protected. Not with the social services set up by our enemy, but by the UNSC and the US government.”
I sat there quietly for what felt like ten minutes; it was probably only a few seconds outside of my head. I looked at him firmly, my mind already made up. “Okay, I get it,” I said, relaxing my tensed shoulders.
“Glad to hear it. Still want to sign up?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
He sighed, which felt like a victory to me. He said, “Fine. And, it goes without saying, of course, but I must say it anyway: If you serve your country and the world by impregnating a willing and eager partner—then any fraud, any gaming the system, will result in loss of all benefits and a dishonorable discharge.”
I grimaced while signing the contract. Ortega stamped his own notary, signed it, and then slipped the paper into a folder with my name on it. Seemed a strange contrast to the digital way of things. Usually, only a thumbprint was required.
“This will remain in the secure section of your service record, by presidential order. It will never be digitally transmitted or duplicated, because technically—”
“—the law doesn’t exist?” I interrupted.
“Not exactly. The XO is legal but some portions of it are top secret.”
Ortega slid a notebook-sized padd across the desk to me. On it was the outline of a hand. I pressed my hand over the padd. It beeped. “That’s it, you’re good to go.”
He retrieved the padd, tapped the screen once, then and held out his hand. “Welcome to the UNSC Defense Force, son. Or, as we prefer to call it, the Navy .”
I stood and took his hand. His grip was like a vice! Having finally completed the task, I didn’t think Ortega would mind, so I glanced at my watch: 16 missed calls and dozens of texts.
“Whoa! Something’s up,” I said, pulling out the phone and calling back. Most of the calls were from my buddy, Brad. My weekend wingman.
He answered immediately. I said, “Dude, what’s the freakin emergen—”
“You watching the news?” he said, deadpan. This gave me a cold chill, coming from him.
“Uh, no, I’m . . . doing something,” I said, lamely.
Brad didn’t reply for a few seconds, then, “Man, something’s going on. My dad was just called in. They’re calling in the reserves and guard.”
“Wait, where are you?” I asked.
“Stanford. Tech conference, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. What? They’re calling in the guard too? Why?”
“Oh, no! Shit, no, no, no!” Brad yelled.
I held the phone away from my face and gave Ortega a bewildered look. He was on his phone too, his brows furrowed. Something was terribly wrong .
“Brad? Calm down. What’s going on?”
“ Shiiit! What the fuck is—”
I heard static for a second before we were cut off.
Ortega ran to the office door and threw it open, then sprinted out, leaving me behind. I followed him out of the recruitment office. Everyone in the lobby was shouting and running, most using their phones and watches. There was no public video screen in this building, so I headed outside. As I walked toward the doors, I flipped open a news channel and saw an unbelievable sight on the screen.
A mushroom cloud billowing into the air.
A cold sweat came over me and I began to hyperventilate.
Where was it?
Chapter 2
Farmer In The Sky
“ I’ve got the derelict on the scope now. Just coming up on the horizon,” Jazdie said.
Jazdie was a second-generation Lunie with an uncanny knack for cooking up good meals with limited supplies. At age eighteen, she had few social skills after growing up on a farm where she had worked since she could walk. The farm sat under a dome on the Moon, bathed in ultraviolet light and watered from locally mined water-ice. Her parents were engineers with their own water purification plant to manage and crops to tend.
Jazdie was born in Kepler crater at the colony now known as Luna City, along with her three brothers. She was delivering a shipment of food to a
I sat there quietly for what felt like ten minutes; it was probably only a few seconds outside of my head. I looked at him firmly, my mind already made up. “Okay, I get it,” I said, relaxing my tensed shoulders.
“Glad to hear it. Still want to sign up?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
He sighed, which felt like a victory to me. He said, “Fine. And, it goes without saying, of course, but I must say it anyway: If you serve your country and the world by impregnating a willing and eager partner—then any fraud, any gaming the system, will result in loss of all benefits and a dishonorable discharge.”
I grimaced while signing the contract. Ortega stamped his own notary, signed it, and then slipped the paper into a folder with my name on it. Seemed a strange contrast to the digital way of things. Usually, only a thumbprint was required.
“This will remain in the secure section of your service record, by presidential order. It will never be digitally transmitted or duplicated, because technically—”
“—the law doesn’t exist?” I interrupted.
“Not exactly. The XO is legal but some portions of it are top secret.”
Ortega slid a notebook-sized padd across the desk to me. On it was the outline of a hand. I pressed my hand over the padd. It beeped. “That’s it, you’re good to go.”
He retrieved the padd, tapped the screen once, then and held out his hand. “Welcome to the UNSC Defense Force, son. Or, as we prefer to call it, the Navy .”
I stood and took his hand. His grip was like a vice! Having finally completed the task, I didn’t think Ortega would mind, so I glanced at my watch: 16 missed calls and dozens of texts.
“Whoa! Something’s up,” I said, pulling out the phone and calling back. Most of the calls were from my buddy, Brad. My weekend wingman.
He answered immediately. I said, “Dude, what’s the freakin emergen—”
“You watching the news?” he said, deadpan. This gave me a cold chill, coming from him.
“Uh, no, I’m . . . doing something,” I said, lamely.
Brad didn’t reply for a few seconds, then, “Man, something’s going on. My dad was just called in. They’re calling in the reserves and guard.”
“Wait, where are you?” I asked.
“Stanford. Tech conference, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. What? They’re calling in the guard too? Why?”
“Oh, no! Shit, no, no, no!” Brad yelled.
I held the phone away from my face and gave Ortega a bewildered look. He was on his phone too, his brows furrowed. Something was terribly wrong .
“Brad? Calm down. What’s going on?”
“ Shiiit! What the fuck is—”
I heard static for a second before we were cut off.
Ortega ran to the office door and threw it open, then sprinted out, leaving me behind. I followed him out of the recruitment office. Everyone in the lobby was shouting and running, most using their phones and watches. There was no public video screen in this building, so I headed outside. As I walked toward the doors, I flipped open a news channel and saw an unbelievable sight on the screen.
A mushroom cloud billowing into the air.
A cold sweat came over me and I began to hyperventilate.
Where was it?
Chapter 2
Farmer In The Sky
“ I’ve got the derelict on the scope now. Just coming up on the horizon,” Jazdie said.
Jazdie was a second-generation Lunie with an uncanny knack for cooking up good meals with limited supplies. At age eighteen, she had few social skills after growing up on a farm where she had worked since she could walk. The farm sat under a dome on the Moon, bathed in ultraviolet light and watered from locally mined water-ice. Her parents were engineers with their own water purification plant to manage and crops to tend.
Jazdie was born in Kepler crater at the colony now known as Luna City, along with her three brothers. She was delivering a shipment of food to a
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