Chapter 6: Learning Curve

Rather than a message torpedo, the Colonel's communications staff sent off a supraluminal message addressed to the ranking Civil Service officer of Demeter, Legate David ap Rhys. Within 24 hours, a high-speed drone was winging its way through the highly theoretical dimension that is supraluminal speed, bearing the requested information about their educational system.

Meanwhile, a request went around the Brigade to permit Optio Redburn to search for and borrow concubines with the desired skills, and for the sergeants to name one of their concubines to function in an advisory capacity to the young cadet. As the request came from the Colonel, not one sergeant felt any pressing need to deny the request.

At the grandly named Concubines' Council, the first issue of the day was where to meet. They decided the school gym would be a dandy location: the building was in the Optio's purview and the location was fairly central in Camp Shackleton.

The first meeting was attended physically by each sergeant's straw boss, and virtually through the AI by every sergeant. It made for a full gym.

"I intend," Samantha boldly announced, "to use all of you who are sergeants' concubines. Keep track of your fellow concubines whose sponsors report to yours. This will accomplish two things: it will reinforce the sense of family and unity within the Brigade, and it will help bring issues to my attention. I'm using my authority as senior Civil Service officer to grant you permission to contact me directly when and if you find a situation that you feel needs to be addressed, like abused concubines or a sponsor's death. You, as your sergeant's representative, will be permitted to access the pod of any deceased sponsor from your sponsor's platoon and lead them to the Unassigned Concubines' Quarters. If a sponsor from your sponsor's platoon dies and has a will conferring transfer of sponsorship, you'll take the concubines to the new sponsor's pod. If you yourself are rendered unassigned, I've ordered that your position remain as your platoon's representative pending further orders from the senior Civil Service officer available or the senior representative if no Civil Service officer is available.

"Now, we've dealt with how we're setting the support up, I need you to go back to your sponsors' platoons and get to know the sponsors, their concubines and dependants. If there are any issues in any of our pods, we need to know about it as soon as possible."

The concubines nodded nervously. This was a higher level of responsibility than they'd anticipated. The sergeants listening in had already heard the presentation the day before and had asked tons of questions. This presentation was refined from that earlier version.

"I suggest that you visit your fellow concubines in their pods. The sergeants will be ordering the privates and corporals to grant access to you as my official representatives. The straw bosses of Lieutenant Colonel Desrocher and Colonel Deschenes will be doing the same with the officers' concubines. If you feel you need to, I'm authorizing you to wear your sponsors' rank on Civil Service duty greys."

At that moment, Colonel Deschenes was being hauled into a controversy involving anti-armour weapons training. A line of recruits in sealed matte-white battle armour lined the firing point, holding onto RH-5 anti-armour rocket launchers, similar in size and shape to the old Panzerfaust rockets of World War II but far more lethal, and with far greater range.

"You have a problem?" the parka-clad Colonel asked, returning Lieutenant-Colonel Stan Waterman's crisp salute. As the CO of the armoured battalion, Waterman was also responsible for the target vehicles used on the anti-tank range.

"Yes, Sir. It's about these target vehicles, the Ford Pinto class. This is the first time anyone's used them in these conditions. Watch what happens first on gravel and then on snow."

The diminutive vehicle was dressed up to look like a typical one-quarter-scale Sa'arm small armoured personnel carrier by affixing lightweight panels to the sides, rear and front. The Lieutenant-Colonel ordered it to cross the range. It skittered across the gravel with only minimal difficulty, but the moment it hit the snow it spun around as one of the wheels dug into the soft snow. The top-heavy target careened onto its right side. As it keeled over ignominiously like a battered brontosaurus, the built-in sensors recorded the motion as being a hit from an anti-armour round and set off the pyrotechnics package mounted to the roof. The little vehicle was soon shooting flame skyward as thick black smoke roiled angrily.

"The Pinto isn't damaged itself," assured Stan. "We just have to attach new panels and a new pyrotechnics pannier. Still, this happens every time we try to use the target on snow."

"Every time?" Deschenes asked, as another explosion from the pyrotechnics package rather spectacularly blew the now-upward-facing left side panel high into the air.

"Every time, Sir. Maybe we get two metres out of it before it ends up on its side or nose. And we can't predict which wheel will suddenly start digging in."

Colonel Deschenes pondered the situation. "Ford Pinto," he mused as the abused left side panel landed in the snow about three metres beyond the disabled device. "Fitting moniker. Well, AI, Lieutenant-Colonel Waterman needs intelligence on the Sa'arm's ground transportation devices. Please see to it that he and his battalion are provided with the latest information."

'Aye aye, Colonel, ' replied the AI through both men's subvocal links.

"Maybe we're going to get lucky and the Swarm can't hit an ice planet." The Colonel marched away to the site of his next potential disaster.

"Do you really think that, Sir?" asked Waterman.

"Not for a Goddamn minute, Sam. Not for a Goddamn minute. If I act on the belief that they can, then when they do we'll be ready for them instead of reacting to their unanticipated presence. It's the safest way to be." He paused to gather his thoughts. "Try to anticipate what the Sa'arm might do if they were to encounter a snowfield. Best guess as to how their machines could be modified for use in arctic conditions." He pondered for another moment. "I can only give you 24 hours to come up with some sort of modification. We need to get these troops qualified on the RH-5."

The first discovery that Samantha had made in her search for staff was of Kenji, the DJ who had provided such expert service during the officers' graduation party. Samantha sat with him and his sponsor Lieutenant Judy Kawamori in their pod that evening.

"So you want him to create song lists, basically," asked Judy.

"Basically. Just do his DJ thing on Friday and Saturday nights."