Read Online Flight of the Outcast by Brad Strickland - Free Book Online Page B

grumbled.
       "I can't help it!"
       "Wait here."
       Asteria wrapped her arms around herself—the room felt chilly—and waited for a long half hour. Then the door opened again, and Vice Admiral Chen came in together with the greenskinned doctor. "At ease," she said as Asteria hopped off the examination table and brought herself to attention. "Causing trouble already, Cadet Locke?"
       "No, Commandant. At least—I'm not trying to, Commandant!"
       "Leave us," Chen said to the doctor. She glanced at the Cybot. "You too."
       As soon as they were alone, the vice admiral said, "Tell me about that thing. The truth, please."
       Asteria told her how she had found the belt, how she had tried it on, and how it had apparently decided not to leave her.
       Chen nodded. "It may be alien tech," she said. "In the fighting aboard the Adastra, several of the Tetra spiders were disabled and later examined. I've never heard of anything like this—but of course Empyrean policy is not to copy alien tech. Perhaps your father kept this as a souvenir."
       "I don't know about that."
       For some moments, Chen stood in thought. Then she opened the door and called the doctor and the Cybot back in. "Rate this as a third-class medical device," she said to the doctor. "Those are permitted."
       "But—"
       "I'll take responsibility," Chen said. "As you were."
       "Aye, Admiral."
       Once the doctor was alone with Asteria, she shook her head. "I hope we won't get into trouble for this. Cybot, record the belt as a third-class medical device to—oh, say to aid posture."
       The rest of the examination proved nothing except that Asteria was in excellent health. Finally, she was permitted to dress. Next came the records work: forms to complete, surveys to fill out, and even some requests to make. She had "no preference" for permanent barracks assignment, "none" for next of kin, and "remain on campus" for the between-terms leave periods. Finally, with no hesitation at all, she checked that she would "accept" the offer of a third-term experience in space, if her grades permitted. She logged her forms in and was sent back to her barracks—on the double.
       She jogged across the campus, feeling a little disoriented. Dromia spun a little more slowly on its axis than Theron, and its day came to about 26.1 Standard hours, as opposed to 23.4 on her homeworld. She had the feeling that the sun should be lower in the sky.
       The days at the Academy were going to be very long.

six

    O f the 125 girls in Bronze 1, 102 were Aristos. In a way, this
          didn't matter. To upperclassmen, all first-term Midshipmen, whether Aristo or Common, were serfs to be ordered around, belittled, and ridiculed. And they were supposed to take it. Silently.
        Asteria felt like an outsider among all those Aristos, but even so, it wasn't as bad as she had feared. She could almost hide in the crowd, because the school had nearly equal numbers of boys and girls. At least the other girls in her barracks didn't hang an annoying nickname on her. They called her "Aster," which she now claimed as her name.
        That was a relief, because to all the upperclass students who bothered to notice her at all, she was "Disaster." Dai hadn't thought of that variant when he had suggested that she shorten her name. Nor had he thought it necessary to change his own name—so to all the upperclass students who pushed him around, he was now "Die, Scum!"
        Lots of fun.
        "Serf!" an upperclassman might call to her suddenly. "How many rules do you have to obey?"
        "Twelve hundred and twenty-one!" she had to respond immediately.
       With an evil grin, the questioner might then demand, "And what is Rule 1013, subclause A?"
       If Asteria were slow in reciting it—"An off-duty cadet must always maintain an active personal communicator in case of emergency transmissions"—then the upperclassman might give her a