Chapter 17

To our delight, this time our accommodation was on level D. We had three adjacent apartments, one of which, we were delighted to discover, was one of only three on that level that had an external window looking out onto the surface. Everyone crowded around it, looking out, the airless lunar surface just feet away from us. To protect our eyes, the window was permanently shaded from the sun's rays, but the upside of that was that we would always be able to see the stars. They were brighter and sharper than we had ever seen them from the Black Mountains. And even in just the small strip of sky we could see, there were many more of them. So many in fact, it was impossible to identify any constellations, even when we knew we were looking in the right direction. It was a stunningly beautiful and amazing view. We already knew sex in a one sixth G was not that exciting, but we soon found that sex in front of that window, looking out onto the lunar surface just feet from us, really was very special.

I quickly identified our main accommodation on Daedalus, but since that was below ground, this time most of my concubines actually wanted to stay at Lipskiy when they could. Roger's own work as a CS officer was split between Lipskiy and Daedalus, and occasionally even some of the other moon bases.

To my delight, when I reported to personnel, room A2W again, I found Percy Meers, now a major.

"Welcome home. Bad news first. You are directly reporting to Lieutenant Colonel Wilkerson."

"Oh shit." Even though I knew what Percy had told me about Wilkerson being a good guy really, someone you wanted on your side, I was still nervous about the guy. "Do you know what for?"

"Yes," he gave me a funny looking smile, "and I'm a bit envious 'cos I wanted that job." I knew instantly he was just teasing me.

"Oh, sorry," I gave a half laugh.

"Oh don't worry, it's a gonna be a flamin' hard job. You're gonna be workin' your nuts off, and you are not gonna be safe too often. Potentially it could be quite dangerous."

"Oh?"

"I only know the overview. Wilkerson will give you the project details, and tell you your role."

"If Wilkerson was the bad news, what's the good?"

"You get a promotion." He stuck out his hand. "Congratulations. You are now Major Carter."

I was too surprised to do anything but shake his hand. "Uh. Why? What have I done to deserve that?" I asked once I had gathered my scattered thoughts.

"Well, first off you had glowing reports from Major Thornby on Mars."

"I did?" I was even more surprised now. In the time I'd been on Mars, I think I'd spoken to Thornby maybe half a dozen times.

He nodded. "That 'little' extraction project from Buckingham palace helped us both, helped to get me this job as well. Second, Andres Zucher put in a good word for you, he was impressed with the way you came across on that little fracas with The King Of Clubs conspiricy."

"But I didn't do anything. Just went to that one meeting, and kept an eye open for any signs. I think that young lad of his did at least as much." Meers frowned. I shook my head. "I fell into it accidentally. I was looking into that new add-on for the replicators."

Meer's face cleared. "Ah yes." He grinned. "That was fun. Tweaking the nose of DARPA. Anyway, that, didn't hurt your cause at all. And third, Wilkerson now reports, indirectly, to General Maggor, and Maggor wanted you back. He and I and Wilkerson all think you did a good job on the Buckingham Palace extraction, even though you were rather late to the party." He grinned at my startled look.

I frowned, thinking back to what Steven Harper had said to me on our first meeting back on Mars. "Did Wilkerson know about the extraction?"

"Of course. He was one of only about six non-Brits who knew about it almost from the start."

"Ah right." I gave a little shake of my head. "Somehow my boss on Mars knew about it when I got there."

"Well of course he would. That was after the event, and as your new CO, he would know the basic details of everything you have done, even if he didn't know anything more."

"Yeah, but he assumed Wilkerson didn't know."

"Wilkerson had to know. As head of personnel on Lipskiy, he would know the outline of every such project running. In any case, he found you for us, and he helped us to get the troops for the actual extraction itself."

"I thought you did that bit?"

"Nah, I just planned it. Worked out the numbers and the disposition. Wilkerson found the people, arranged with extraction to get the number of teams we needed. Today, I would do what Wilkerson did."

I nodded. "Okay."

He laughed. "Anyway. This new role of yours is far more suited to you than to me, I'm not a field person. I'm very much a desk jockey. Because of what you might be doing, and who you might be talking to, you know: politicians, you're gonna need the extra rank, just to help smooth the way. But I'll let Wilkerson tell you what you need to know. Initially you'll have three people reporting directly to you, but that will increase as you get yourself sorted."

"Does that include my sister?"

Percy looked confused for a moment, then looked at his notes again. "Is Lance-Corporal S. Carter your sister?"

"Yeah."

"Ahhhh. That explains ... I hadn't spotted ... hadn't realised she was a 'she' not a 'he'. I don't think I actually met her when she was on the moon, but she was working briefly for Priscilla," I frowned in thought, trying to think who he meant, before remembering Priscilla Percy. "She mentioned her once or twice. I never connected you though. I should have done. In that case, yes, in addition to. She's your adjutant stroke secretary stroke personal assistant. So yes, she reports to you. You have three other direct reports, plus you have a marine platoon attached to you, plus your assistant. However," he paused and grinned. "I like giving people this sort of news: you both now get three days leave."

I laughed and he looked at me with a pleased smile. "Go to Earth. Not Britain though. You'll understand why if you can get hold of any newspapers that are covering Britain from the outside. Go to New York or somewhere like that. In fact, treat the getting of news about Britain as research for your next role. You have to report to Wilkerson at nine AM in three days time. That's a little over sixty hours. Corporal Carter is to report to me at that time and I'll direct her straight to you about an hour later.

I nodded. "Thank you sir."

He gave soft chuckle. "Not any more. We're both of equal rank now."

"Oh yeah." I laughed briefly, "I'm looking forwards to the increase in salary," I added with a sardonic laugh.

It was his turn to smile. We both knew we didn't get paid. Almost everything we could possibly need was available through a replicator, and a lot more besides.

"Okay, off you go. Have fun." He sobered. "Is your sister also your, er, partner?"

My smile vanished as fast as his had. "If you mean what I think you mean, then yes."

"In that case, while you're on Earth, either refrain, or introduce her as your wife. Better still, do both. And go in civvies. As neither of you are combat troops, you've not had that physical size bulking, so you shouldn't be recognised as Confederacy. But just be careful. Don't let anyone who doesn't need to, find out who you are."

I nodded. It was what Lieutenant Percy had told me a couple of years earlier. "Okay, thanks." I would have gone in civvies anyway. "Can you authorise us some money please?"

He tapped something into his PDA. "You've been authorised to take one thousand dollars each. Just take it from the replicator when you get back to your room. If you want a different currency, just change it on Earth. Anything left over, just put it back into the replicator when you get home."

I nodded my understanding. "Thank you." The AI, through the replicators, acted as our bank. Except that money couldn't just be withdraw without explicit authorisation.

"Oh and souvenirs are always welcome," he called after me as I left the room.

I laughed. I liked Percy. He'd jokingly complained a couple of times during the extraction project about the distinct dearth of decent beers. I would see what I could do for him.

Siân was definitely up for a trip to New York. We were working on GMT, five hours ahead of New York, so it was still the early hours of the morning there. We had just over three hours to kill before we left. There was not much point in arriving before or during the morning rush hour, so Siân spent some of that time in the sleep trainer learning about the place: where to go, where to eat, what to see, where even to avoid. I just got a city map from the replicator, and a list of hotels and restaurants from the AI. I half wished I could talk to Hank, who would have been able to point me to things only a local could.

Instead, I called Matt Harding.

"Oh. Hello," he said we I finally got in touch with him via the internal comms system. "What are you doing back here?"

"Bad behaviour?" I laughed.

His forced answering smile showed no amusement.

"I've got to shoot off again shortly, fancy a quick coffee in the mess hall?"

He agreed, and five minutes later we were sitting comfortably, looking out of the window, cups of very good coffee in our hands.

"Slightly different to the view from my apartment," I said idly.

Matt looked startled. "You have a room on C?"

I shook my head. "D. D5S."

The look he gave me made me shiver, yet I couldn't identify the emotion behind it. He didn't like that I had one of the few apartments with an outside view. I wondered why, but didn't say anything. He was based permanently in Daedalus, where there were no external views, so it shouldn't have affected him at all.

"You still in the same pool office?" I asked casually.

"Yes. I'm still in charge." Indirectly that told me he was still a commander.

"How often do you get out into a project?"

"I don't. You can't have the person in charge of a pool being posted away from it, even temporarily."

"Oh no, oh I'm sorry."

He shrugged, but I could see he was hiding something. "I've only just heard about a role that came up a week or so ago. I've applied for it, and when I get it, it'll mean a promotion."

"Oh brill. Doing what?"

"Not sure exactly. Not the details anyway. It will mean I'd get to go to Earth quite regularly though."

"When will you find out?"

"Next day or two I expect."

"Well I hope you get it. Be a move up for you."

He nodded. "Oh I'll get it. There's no one on Lipskiy who could do it. Percival Meers might, but he's not long moved to personnel, and in any case, for lots of reasons, he's not suitable." I heard spite in his words and was surprised.

"Oh?" I looked at Matt. I was just starting to wonder about him now.

Matt just shook his head. "So what are you doing now?"

"Haven't found out yet. Got a couple of days leave, then got to report for work. Guess I'll find out then."

"Uh huh. Well when I get this role, I'll give you a call. I don't mind you working for me."

"Oh, okay, thank you." I was slightly startled and taken aback at his words. In one sense the sentiment seemed fine: that he liked my work and wanted me on his team; but in another it almost sounded like he wanted me to be reporting to him. To be below him. It was that second meaning that came across to me most strongly. I just nodded neutrally.

I told him some of the things I'd got up to on Mars. Not much of course because, like on Lipskiy, the work was all sensitive. I told him about Melissa, not that he'd ever met her of course, but all he did was shrug unconcernedly. "If she was stupid enough not to get pregnant when she could," he added, but didn't finish the sentence. He showed no sympathy, indeed, seemed to think it surprising that I did.

When I told him about Huw 'graduating', he just nodded, he even managed to look a little irritated, almost as if he didn't approve of slaves graduating into sponsors. To my surprise, I found myself not telling him about my promotion, and I didn't tell him where I was going for my leave, nor who I would be working for. And I certainly didn't tell him about my brief trip to Earth and the Moon nearly two years earlier. Some of the repercussions from the attack on Sir Samuel, were still rumbling round the system; and lots of rumours, half-truths, and just plain, good old fashioned myths, falsehoods and lies were still doing the rounds. I strongly felt I didn't want too many people, including Matt, to know I had played even a tiny part in it, nor that my sister had played a marginally bigger part.

Eventually Matt looked at his watch. "Got to get back. Don't trust those muppets to do their work unsupervised for long."

I nodded and headed back to my apartment, deep in thought. I needed to talk to Percy again, but there was no time now.

Back on Earth, Siân and I didn't refrain, but we were discreet. Somehow, to both of us, it felt different making love on Earth. After so long away from here we were desperate to see what the changes were. Oh we had got news from Earth, but that wasn't the same as seeing it with our own eyes. We were shocked, but managed not to show it. We stayed two nights in a very nice hotel not that far from Broadway, not too cheap, but not so expensive that we couldn't afford to do anything else.

We spent a lot of the first two days sightseeing. Siân, of course, wanted to go shopping in some of the well-known stores: after Macy's, Bloomingdale's and Saks I sort of lost track. We went to good restaurants on both evenings and then briefly onto a nightclub before finally heading back to our hotel, and some wonderful loving. I didn't know whether it would be allowed, but if it was, I knew that at some point I was going to have to do this for Branny and Stacy at very least and maybe even for Imogen and some of the others. Siân even made a point of telling me so.

The final morning was spent souvenir hunting, before making our way back to the heavily protected Confederacy offices not far from the headquarters of the New York Police Department. We had spent a lot of both evenings, after we had eaten out, making love. Siân was a little bit sad that she was already pregnant, and couldn't have got pregnant there. I made her a promise that if I could in the future, I would bring her somewhere special like this, just to get her pregnant.

I'd picked up copies of every newspaper I could find, and between us we'd bought a number of souvenirs for the rest of the family, plus a few bottles of good wine to share between us all. Spirits were absolutely not allowed on Lipskiy, but small quantities of beer and wine now and again was overlooked, so we took advantage of it. There wasn't much left out of the money we'd been authorised. I'd got Percy half a dozen bottles of different micro brew beers. I'd found them a bit light when I'd tried them, more like lager than a proper British bitter. I hoped he might like them as he'd told me he preferred IPA's to the dark bitters. He did, and was properly grateful.

"Percy?" I asked after he had taken his first deep swig of beer.

"Uh huh? Oooh that's good," he added with a grin. "That's as good as any proper British India Pale Ale."

I laughed. "Er, have you come across Matt Harding? Commander Matt Harding?"

The pleasure on his face dimmed noticeably. "I have. I know you were in his pool office when you were first posted here. That was pure chance. There was no malicious intent in it."

"Huh?"

Percy gave a wry smile. "Matt Harding is not nearly as good as he thinks he is. Half the little turf wars around here are caused, or at least exacerbated by him." He looked at me speculatively. "Are you friends with him?"

"Well," I said slowly. "I thought so at one point. I was talking to him just before I went on leave. Did he apply for the job I'll be doing?"

Percy's eyebrows crawled rapidly up his forehead. "Wow. That was a leap. Yes. He never had any chance, and he was probably the only person who didn't know that. As soon as that job came up, everyone who had a say knew it was yours."

"Who had a say?"

"I did. In a way I would have liked the job, but I knew I couldn't do it."

"And you can't tell me what the job is?"

Percy gave a soft smile, looking at his bottle of beer. "Jobsworth," he said.

I laughed. "Okay." It was his way of saying he would get into a lot of trouble if he told me. "So who else had a say?"

"John Maggor. He's a Major-General now, and he's going places. The extraction put him, and me and you and all the team, on the map. He was noticed. We all were. Someone gave him this new task, and he devolved it down to this base. He had Wilkerson promoted and put in overall charge, and then suggested you to actually run ... the important part." He grinned, and I knew he had almost told me too much.

I chuckled. "Oh wow. And Wilkerson agreed?"

"Yep." His smile was as broad as ever. "Even Andres Zucher agreed you'd be good for the job."

"Wow."

Percy stuck out his hand. "You will thoroughly enjoy your new job, I think, and I think you'll do it well. Don't let us down."

"Thank you sir, I won't." I shook his hand firmly.

He laughed again, took another deep swig of his beer, and headed back to his apartment carrying the remaining five bottles tenderly. It was only as I got onto the transporter that I realised Percy had laughed because I'd called him 'sir' again. I chuckled gently to myself, remembering when I'd done it to Priscilla Percy as well. That made me laugh even more. What was it with the name Percy?

Lieutenant Colonel Wilkerson, when he saw me the following morning, just stared for a moment.

"Major Carter reporting for duty sir."

"Oh yes. Lootenant Carter. I remember you. I don't want you. I don't need you. You are a waste of space and of my valuable time. But General Maggor seems to think you are the bees knees, and Andres Zucher seems to have the hots for you, so I have to use you."

"Sir."

He gave me a malicious grin that for the first time in my experience contained genuine humour in it. I was a bit startled at the seeming contradiction. "Your job," he paused and waved at a chair. "Fuck's sake, sit. You're makin' the place look untidy." He waited until I'd sat in the indicated chair, and then continued. "Your job, Major, is to interdict, disrupt, and generally make life a nuisance for any and all Earth Firsters. Particularly those that are goin' to make trouble for the Confederacy. Understand?"

"Er. I think so, sir." I wasn't sure I totally understood, but I was damned sure I could find out, and quick enough for Wilkerson not to know I was, at this stage, bluffing. "Where? What limitations?"

"Limitations? You have to work with the locals. You have to ensure that under no circumstances does the Confederacy get dragged into a war, even a silly little firefight. We are to be kept out, and kept clear. Anonymous. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now. Your beat as it were. Stay out of North America. Stay away from anywhere Panama and north. You go there and I'll have your guts. That's the important bit, I don't want you queering it up. The rest is up to you. Except. Stay away from Russia. For the moment anyway. South America, Africa and much of South East Asia are pretty much a waste of space, but you might get lucky. You can try Japan though, if you like your fish raw. The Middle-East is just so much radioactive fallout, so stay away from there unless you fancy your face melting off. Otherwise, I don't much care where you go. Just stay away from the important bits. Panama and anywhere north. Got that?"

"Yes sir." I would later discover that officially my remit covered the whole world. In practice however, I stuck to Wilkerson's guidelines where it concerned North America, and elsewhere concentrated initially on the old British Commonwealth, and on Europe. Eventually, as I got more staff and more experience and understanding, I did allow myself to include most of the rest of the world as well. I even poked my nose into the US and Canada when it became necessary, and since I never had that particular appendage chopped off, I was obviously doing something right.

"Good. For now you have three people working for you, plus you have call on a Confederacy Marine platoon if you need it. If you do need it though, and it's to extract you from a sticky situation, don't bother them or me; just die and save us both the trouble of me kicking you out through the airlock. Got that?"

"Yes sir."

"You need to do something about Britain and Australia: they've banned us, so you need to be discreet."

He spent nearly ten minutes giving me a surprisingly complete picture of what was happening on Earth, and where the particular hot-spots were that the Confederacy were interested in, or were keeping away from.

Eventually he wound up the short briefing. "I want weekly summaries of your work. Summaries, not essays. Your team is waiting for you in A14S, your new researcher will be joining you shortly." He turned to his papers and waved my dismissal.

"Yes sir. Thank you sir. And congratulations on your promotion sir."

"Don't ass-lick," was his only comment, but I heard amusement in his voice, and I was sure I saw a hint of a smile on his face as I turned away.

14S was an outside project room, so we had external windows facing Daedalus base. Unlike from the mess hall on level C, or my own room on level D, here the view was much clearer, though it was still only comms antennae that could be seen.

I was introduced to my team. Ensign Simon Pierra, a forty-year-old Londoner whose grandfather had been Portuguese; Private Sharon Taylor, a ninteen-year-old beauty from Gary, Indiana and Private Theodore Ung, thirty-one, originally from rural Kenya, but actually collected in Stratford-Upon-Avon where he had been performing with the Royal Shakespeare Theatre Company.

Theo, always the actor and comedian, kept us laughing for years, his jet black skin and brilliant white teeth could look both fearsome and cuddly. The youngsters, when they met him, adored him; and more than one of my concubines wanted his baby. He was definitely the morale leader in the team.

Sharon had had the nickname Professor, later shortened to Prof, from the time she was about seven years old. She had a mind chock full of mostly useless trivia, and an amazing ability to connect seemingly unrelated trivia. It was this trivia, she told us, that had got her her nickname, and her linking ability, I found out, that had got her onto the team.