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  Lieutenant

  The David Birkenhead Series

  Book 3

  Phil Geusz

  First Printing September 2012

  Published by Legion Printing, Birmingham, AL

  Copyright Phil Geusz, 2012

  Cover Art by Octavius Cook, Copyright 2012

  ISBN: 978-0-9829866-8-4

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without explicit permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  1

  “…setting the course of a lifetime,” Captain Withers declared from the podium. “Choosing which star will guide your destinies…”

  I wriggled my nose as the elderly navigator droned on, tapping a seemingly inexhaustible store of map-related references. The captain had been the fleet’s Chief Navigation Officer for four years before taking over the Bureau of Personnel. Lord Robert, seated just on the other side of James from me, claimed that the navy had never known a more conservative, insular, backstabbing politician in all its years. “That’s where your enemies will always be, David,” he’d counseled me over lunch just two hours ago. “Institutional bureaucracy draws limited minds just as powerfully as rotten meat draws flies. And limited souls as well. The fighting navy—and the fighting army as well, for that matter—tends to judge a man by what he can do. They at least give him a chance. But elsewhere…” He sighed and shook his head. “It’s all about titles, status, and butt-kissing. Especially for this… individual. We’ve crossed swords before.”

  Well, I told myself as I sat and pretended to pay attention to the rambling, poorly-structured and unoriginal speech, at least I didn’t have to worry about my assignment. The others were all sweating like pigs, or at least most of them. The navy required a thousand different sorts of specialists in order to function; fleets were in some ways cities in space. Keeping them operational required everything from bakers to lawyers and astrogators to sanitation engineers. That was why we midshipman received only the most generic training at the Academy; our real skills would be learned on the job, as per ancient naval tradition. Our initial assignment, however, was the key to everything. Once we were trained as navigators, for example, it’d be extremely unlikely for us to ever specialize in anything else. Some fields—such as engineering—even had their own independent chains of command because the technology was so difficult to master. That was why I wasn’t worried. It was practically unheard-of for anyone as young as me to be qualified to stand watches as a ship’s engineer. It took most people years to earn their certification. But I already had, or close enough as made no difference. Another twenty-seven and a half hours of supervised duty was all I needed. So there was no doubt as to where I was headed. Everyone else in the room, however, was on pins and needles.

  The Academy did almost everything in alphabetical order, which had benefitted me greatly during my time there. Being a ‘B’ had its advantages. But now I was a commissioned officer in the real navy, so things were done strictly by seniority. Oddly enough, the tradition was for the highest-ranked to go last, as was the case in entering a ship’s boat. Both James and I therefore had long waits ahead of us; he’d ranked number one, and I number two in our class. “Midshipman Heinrich von Schtolen!” the reverse roll-call began, and my good friend and fellow wargamer stood at rigid attention. “You’re assigned to the Royal Marine Corps,” Captain Withers announced.

  Heinrich smiled despite himself—though he’d started out as the purest of rebels and graduated at the bottom of his class as a result, I knew that after meeting his Imperial opposites he craved a combat-arms assignment. And now he’d gotten it. “Sir!” he replied as an orderly-bunny handed him a stout canvas envelope containing his orders. “Thank you, sir!”

  And so it went on and on. The Yans were assigned to Fleet Logistics, which raised a laugh even in this disciplined crowd. Everyone knew they’d been born to serve in Intelligence, and that was where they’d really gone. You could read it in their smiles. Jean Le Vorsage, who’d befriended me when few others would, was assigned to the Administrative Corps as an aide-in-training. This surprised me until I remembered that he was a superb natural politician, and highborn as well. Perhaps at least one of the bureaucrats might end up not being a total prig? And so it went as we new officers were assigned to all the various branches, every one of which required a flow of new professionals to keep things running for the good of all.

  Then Captain Withers finally came to me. He paused and smiled—all the top graduates were given special attention in one form or another. “And now for our most special officer,” he said as I stood and waited to be named an engineer at last. “A past hero whose special talents and abilities everyone wishes to see utilized in the most effective manner possible for the navy.” His smile widened. “Midshipman David Birkenhead, you’re assigned to the most honorable Department of Graves Registration. Nothing is more important than honoring our dead heroes. And no branch of the service employs more Rabbits. Therefore, you’re a natural fit.”

  2

  The Marcus clan held a formal reception after the ceremony; since James and I had been absent for graduation the family had decided to celebrate assignment-day instead. So I had to smile and pretend that all was well even though I was seething with rage inside. No one from the Academy was ever assigned to Graves Registration, not ever! This wasn’t an exaggeration; while we didn’t quite have time to examine the entire database, James and I ran a quick search of previous graduates in the limo on the way to the penthouse. Meanwhile Lord Robert sat across from us and seethed. At least James was kind enough not to wear his new HMS Javelin lapel-emblems, so that in turn I was free not to put on the tombstones-and-shovels that marked my new career. My friend had been assigned to the brand new battlecruiser as a deck officer. It was a dream assignment for someone like James, and for that matter almost anyone else. Unless the Imperials had something up their sleeve that we didn’t know about, she was the fastest and best-armed ship in the sky. In the event of war Javelin would be detached as an independent raider to operate far behind Imperial lines and cause five thousand kinds of mayhem. Only the most capable and bluest-blooded officers need even apply for such a desirable billet; the competition was enormous. Once upon a time I’d dreamed that I might be lucky enough to serve in her beautiful, state-of-the-art engine room. But now…

  We didn’t see much of Sir Robert at the reception; this was because he spent most of the affair down in his office, screaming obscenities into a telephone. In theory the guests were blissfully unaware of this; their ears weren’t nearly as sensitive as my own. But they knew. You could tell by the way that no one asked about him. It was rather touching, really, to hear Sir Robert throw one of his rare tantrums on my behalf. At first the Marcus family had taken me in at least partly because they saw it as an honorable duty. Since then, however, my relationship with them had grown into something more. It wasn’t just James, though we loved each other like brothers. Lord Robert could only be cursing on my account, not that of the family scion. After all, the Heir to the House of Marcus couldn’t have asked for a better outcome on his own account. Lord Robert’s anger was over my mistreatment, and there could be no better proof of my standing in his heart. Once, when no one was looking and his cursing hit a crescendo, I actually shed a tear of gratitude. At least someone was on my side!

  More than one someone, to be completely honest, though sometimes it was hard to tell. Despite my for-a
ll-practical-purposes full adoption, I still didn’t fit in as well with the extended Marcus clan as I might’ve. This wasn’t deliberate on anyone’s part—if it had been, Lord Robert would’ve dealt with it instantly. Nor was it closed-mindedness. But I remained a Rabbit in a human world no matter how hard everyone worked at ignoring the fact. Even after all these years it was still a bit awkward, and l was an introvert by nature anyway. So it was natural that I spent most of my time sipping fruit juice alone in a quiet corner, while everyone else surrounded James in a happy, glowing circle.

  “Congratulations, David!” a familiar voice declared from behind me as I stood and moped. “I’m so proud of you!”

  “Mr. Banes!” I declared, spinning around so fast that I spilled half my juice. And just like that, I wasn’t moping anymore. “It’s so good to—“

  But I didn’t get any further before my tutor cut me off with a long, tight hug. “I’m so proud of you!” he declared. “Of all my students, and all they’ve gone on to accomplish…” But the words died in his throat.

  “Thank you for getting me ready!” I answered back. “I was ahead of almost everyone! Except James, of course.”

  “You did all the work,” he replied. When he pulled out of the hug and looked down at me I was surprised to see that he was crying. “And… Son, I think I’m the only one around here who knew your father at all well. So it’s up to me to tell you that, well… I think he’d have been mighty proud today too.”

  And that was all it took; suddenly we were both weeping. Mr. Banes was a bit more experienced with this sort of thing than I was—he eased me down the nearest hallway and into an empty guest bedroom where we could both recover. “Well!” he said at last, putting away his handkerchief and straightening his tuxedo. “What ship were you assigned to, David? So that I can follow your adventures in the news, of course.”

  Suddenly my ear-linings were bright red. “I…”

  “He’s not assigned to any ship,” Lord Robert declared from behind my tutor—clearly he’d been waiting in the hall for a polite moment to interrupt.

  Mr. Banes turned around and smiled. “Really? Perhaps they kept him on at the Academy as a mathematics instructor, then? He’d make a fine one.”

  “No,” the family’s head replied, crossing his arms and scowling. “They’ve torpedoed him, Izzy! Despite the Sword, despite his proven capabilities… Even despite our influence!” His scowl intensified. “Or perhaps because of it.”

  Mr. Bane’s smile faded. “What… I mean…”

  “Graves Registration,” I explained. “The most appropriate place possible for a career to die.”

  The elderly tutor turned first red, then white. “I… I mean…”

  “My sentiments exactly,” Sir Robert replied. “And what’s worse…” Then he sighed and shook his head. “At least James got a prime opportunity—he’s for the Javelin.”

  “They should both have been!” Mr. Banes declared, waving a fist in emphasis. “If David’s not top-notch, I don’t know who is!” Then his eyes narrowed. “I presume that you…”

  Lord Robert shook his head and sighed. “No, I’m afraid not. There’s not enough leverage to go around right now.” He nodded out towards the main room, where James was still surrounded by happy family members. “And our heir simply must take first priority just now.”

  My tutor’s mouth formed a thin, hard line. “I see,” he replied. “Or at least I think I do,” Then his expression softened and he squeezed my shoulder. “But David’s earned better treatment than this, Robert! I have friends of my own in academic circles, you know. I’ve followed matters from afar.”

  “Of course, old friend,” James’s uncle replied. “There was never any doubt.” He lowered his eyes to the floor. “I was just on my way to find him and explain.”

  Mr. Banes nodded. “You were a good boy, Robert. And now you’re a great man. But I don’t ever make the mistake of envying you.” Then he turned back to me. “You’ve made me proud, David!” he reassured me. “And I’ve no doubt in my mind that you’ll keep right on doing so. Be strong, lad, as you’ve been so many times before. Give it your best, and you’ll find that excellence can be its own reward.” Then he bowed to Lord Robert, smiled at me one last time, and left.

  For a long, long moment the room was filled with silence, as both of us stared at the floor. Then Lord Robert sighed and clapped me on the shoulder. “We need to talk, son. Might as well get it out of the way right now, if you’re up to it.”

  “Of course,” I agreed. “The sooner the better. For both of us, I expect.”

  3

  Lord Robert’s office wasn’t half the size that his elder brother’s had been. Partly that was because this wasn’t Marcus Prime, where Milord had been in effect the head of the planetary government as well as a private empire. But it was even more because of Lord Robert himself and who he was. He’d hoped never find to himself head of the Marcus clan, people said. And I believed it was true. He still wept sometimes at the mention of his dead sibling, and looked forward to the day when he could retreat to his own private estate high in the beautiful mountains of Marcus III. But like every other Marcus I’d ever met Lord Robert took his duty seriously whether it was to his own family, his monarch, or the best interests of humanity as a whole. The desk I was looking at him across had witnessed the makings of decisions that affected billions of lives and trillions of credits. Even though the office was smaller and Milord was dead, this was still the nerve-center of all things Marcus. Although my uniform breast-pocket was adorned with a fire-lily, it was still a humbling place to be.

  “First, David,” Lord Robert explained as we settled ourselves in, “I want to echo what Mr. Banes just told you. You’ve done extraordinarily well under impossible conditions, again and again and again. I’m extremely proud of you, and couldn’t possibly be more pleased with what you’ve accomplished and who you’ve become. You’ve exceeded all our highest aspirations. I speak for the entire family in this.”

  There wasn’t much I could say, so I just bowed my head and felt my ear-linings turn red.

  He smiled, for the first time since the ceremony. “In some ways, I suppose, it’s a measure of how successful you’ve been that so much effort was put into ensuring that you’ll rise no further. Captain Withers is retiring in a few weeks. So are his deputy and his chief-of-staff. In fact, practically everyone responsible for your assignment will soon be re-entering private life. That’s no coincidence, David. It’s the mark of a carefully thought-out plan woven together over a period of many months. Someone went to a lot of trouble to make sure you wouldn’t get a good assignment. Consider it flattery. Because it actually is, you see.”

  I nodded. “But… Who? And why?”

  Lord Robert sighed. “It’s all terribly complicated, and I won’t ever have enough information to know everything for certain. But it’s a combination of factors. One of them you’re already familiar with- the fact that you’re a Rabbit, one that’s proven he can excel in the most difficult of human environments.”

  I nodded. “Some people would rather die than accept that.”

  “That’s sadly true,” the Marcus family head agreed. “And it’s a factor that should never be underestimated. But in this case there are even larger forces at work.”

  My brow wrinkled. “How so?”

  Lord Robert sighed and leaned back in his expensive leather chair. “It’s an open secret that James has a good claim to the Throne. You already knew that, I expect?”

  I nodded.

  “Our current king is from the House of Kandoro. Back in the day when the monarchy was established, Kandoro was riding high. Its power and influence was rooted in the mineral wealth of Africa, back on Old Earth itself. But Kandoro’s power peaked long ago. Today it controls only three worlds, two of which are economic basket cases. And the third is this one, which serves as the capitol. It’ll go to the new ruling House. Should the crown leave the House of Kandoro, so does most of its wealth and prac
tically all its influence.”

  “I see,” I said slowly.

  “Kandoro’s been vulnerable for decades,” Lord Robert continued. “It almost makes one believe in destiny, David, the way their fecundity has faded with their wealth. Even with modern techniques… Well, the Queen was sterile, you see. Save for a single youthful indiscretion which produced my brother, His Majesty is childless. But it’s not just him. James and his brother aside, the next-nearest heir is a fifth cousin.”

  “But…” No one ever mentioned Stephan anymore—he was a vegetable, after being mistreated by the Imperials.

  “Ah!” Lord Roberts replied. “You begin to see! If Stephan ascends to the throne, a lifetime Regency will be required. And who knows what House the Regent might be from? While if James is chosen, well…” He shook his head. “It’s already clear that he’s intelligent, able, and disposed to make his own decisions. Plus, the House of Marcus has been on a long, slow rise for a very long time now. We’re easily the richest and most influential of all the Dukedoms—and we’ll be a Dukedom within two years, I assure you! It would’ve happened long ago, but Milord felt it was wiser to keep a low profile. This proved to be one of his few tactical errors.”

  I nodded again. “So… You need all your influence right now to put James on the throne.”

  Lord Robert’s face fell. “Baldy put, I suppose that’s accurate enough. But there’s more involved—far more! For example, the Empire was born due to a similar schism between the Houses. What a tragedy it’d be if we were to split up humanity yet again! And that’s exactly what I foresee if Stephan is crowned. A Regency isn’t a lifetime position, you see. There’d be endless infighting and squabbling—we might go through a dozen Regents a year! Even if it doesn’t split us, it’d leave us terribly vulnerable to the Empire.” He sighed and looked down again. “So…”

  “So,” I replied. “I must go to Graves Registration, for the good of the entire Kingdom.”