Read Online In the Valley by Jason Lambright - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jason Lambright
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first receiving his orders were the words “153 light-years distant.” The words seemed to slam a door shut in his head. Paul had signed a contract with the forces; this was the result.
A staggering distance: 153 light-years. Secretly, while at Sill, he had hoped he would go to some training billet in Brazilia or something. That would be far enough away to satisfy his wanderlust, close enough that his whole life near a distant star called
Sol
wouldn’t be hard to find in the night sky of some distant world.
Well, that wish just hadn’t worked out. As his father was fond of saying, “Wish in one hand, and shit in the other: see which one fills up first.” In Paul’s mind, the shit hand had been filled, and the wish hand was woefully empty. He would be going to work in some way faraway place with algal mats for bedfellows and some freaky yellow sky or something. Oh yeah, and chances were some dissident asshole would be trying to blow him up.
His orders, as many times as he had looked at him, had given no hint. They simply said:
SM (service member) to report on 28MAR15 for transportation to near space at Force Installation Gutierrez, Cuba. SM will be shipped outbound on the FSS
Merton R. Johnson
. Journey will take approx. 270 +/–30 days Earth relative.
SM will serve in the Hyades AO for three (3) years. First world of service is Pan-American Federation World Ottawa 6.
SM will be met at Hope shuttle port by unit representatives upon landfall.
SM is assigned as Grenadier, Det 2, H Co. 2/18 IN (Armored).
After that was a bunch of gobbledygook about pay and allowances and how he was authorized thirty-five kilos of gear and ten kilos of “personal effects,” excluding “unauthorized items”—followed by a long list of such items.
One item had caught his eye: “Artificial Intelligence Sexual Services Device, Humanoid Shape.” Really? They had thought of that too? Paul thought for a second. With some of the guys he had known so far, he could see it. So someone had surely tried it. Paul would have died of embarrassment to be caught with something like that, let alone using one.
Besides, now that he was wearing a regulations-compliant civilian halo (must be black or brown plastic in appearance, with no ornamentation) and not that piece-of-shit recruit one, he had access to all his good stuff again, including his recordings of Rhoda. Life was good.
He had pinged his father from Oklahoma City, letting him know that he was coming in. His father answered right back, saying that he’d meet him outside of security in Pittsburgh. His family had rented a ground-car to pick him up.
Paul cruised out of the gangway leading from the shuttle in Pittsburgh. The weather outside was sunny but cold, at minus two degrees Celsius.
He had just spent his flight making out with the woman in the seat next to him. He made his distance from her now, though, because apparently her boyfriend was waiting on her. It was an odd situation but, he thought, a very nice way to start his leave.
His randiness and ready-to-party mood was quenched a bit, however, by the thought of the orders lurking on his halo. What was he going to tell hisparents? Paul remembered how upset Father had been years ago when he got that message from Uncle Jack.
Well, he rationalized, it was not like he had to make a career of the forces. After all, one of the big selling points the recruiter had given him (he finally had spoken with him) was that every separating force member would be guaranteed a berth back to Earth on the next available transport. Of course, they only had one shot at that offer.
Paul didn’t quite get the ramifications of that offer at the time. He was young, and life was offering him a bountiful bouquet of delicious foods and new friends. Also, every young woman seemed to him at that time to be a garden of fresh delights, and he was a bunny. Paul was a typical young man, straight out of over half of a year’s worth of the military
A staggering distance: 153 light-years. Secretly, while at Sill, he had hoped he would go to some training billet in Brazilia or something. That would be far enough away to satisfy his wanderlust, close enough that his whole life near a distant star called
Sol
wouldn’t be hard to find in the night sky of some distant world.
Well, that wish just hadn’t worked out. As his father was fond of saying, “Wish in one hand, and shit in the other: see which one fills up first.” In Paul’s mind, the shit hand had been filled, and the wish hand was woefully empty. He would be going to work in some way faraway place with algal mats for bedfellows and some freaky yellow sky or something. Oh yeah, and chances were some dissident asshole would be trying to blow him up.
His orders, as many times as he had looked at him, had given no hint. They simply said:
SM (service member) to report on 28MAR15 for transportation to near space at Force Installation Gutierrez, Cuba. SM will be shipped outbound on the FSS
Merton R. Johnson
. Journey will take approx. 270 +/–30 days Earth relative.
SM will serve in the Hyades AO for three (3) years. First world of service is Pan-American Federation World Ottawa 6.
SM will be met at Hope shuttle port by unit representatives upon landfall.
SM is assigned as Grenadier, Det 2, H Co. 2/18 IN (Armored).
After that was a bunch of gobbledygook about pay and allowances and how he was authorized thirty-five kilos of gear and ten kilos of “personal effects,” excluding “unauthorized items”—followed by a long list of such items.
One item had caught his eye: “Artificial Intelligence Sexual Services Device, Humanoid Shape.” Really? They had thought of that too? Paul thought for a second. With some of the guys he had known so far, he could see it. So someone had surely tried it. Paul would have died of embarrassment to be caught with something like that, let alone using one.
Besides, now that he was wearing a regulations-compliant civilian halo (must be black or brown plastic in appearance, with no ornamentation) and not that piece-of-shit recruit one, he had access to all his good stuff again, including his recordings of Rhoda. Life was good.
He had pinged his father from Oklahoma City, letting him know that he was coming in. His father answered right back, saying that he’d meet him outside of security in Pittsburgh. His family had rented a ground-car to pick him up.
Paul cruised out of the gangway leading from the shuttle in Pittsburgh. The weather outside was sunny but cold, at minus two degrees Celsius.
He had just spent his flight making out with the woman in the seat next to him. He made his distance from her now, though, because apparently her boyfriend was waiting on her. It was an odd situation but, he thought, a very nice way to start his leave.
His randiness and ready-to-party mood was quenched a bit, however, by the thought of the orders lurking on his halo. What was he going to tell hisparents? Paul remembered how upset Father had been years ago when he got that message from Uncle Jack.
Well, he rationalized, it was not like he had to make a career of the forces. After all, one of the big selling points the recruiter had given him (he finally had spoken with him) was that every separating force member would be guaranteed a berth back to Earth on the next available transport. Of course, they only had one shot at that offer.
Paul didn’t quite get the ramifications of that offer at the time. He was young, and life was offering him a bountiful bouquet of delicious foods and new friends. Also, every young woman seemed to him at that time to be a garden of fresh delights, and he was a bunny. Paul was a typical young man, straight out of over half of a year’s worth of the military
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