“I haven’t killed anyone directly,” Janelle said. “But I was on the Old Lady from before we were sent out to war. I have probably contributed to thousands of alien deaths, even if I didn’t push the trigger.”
She paused, significantly. “But I don’t let it bother me,” she added. “Because, in the end, the aliens themselves have decided that there can be only one.”
Henry nodded, slowly. Before he’d gone to the Academy, his father — in an attempt to dissuade him — had told him about the several attempts to send diplomats to talk to the aliens face-to-face. They’d all failed; the aliens had waited until the human ships entered firing range, then blown them away. Later attempts to broadcast signals from a safe distance had been completely pointless. The aliens had simply not bothered to respond.
If they can respond, Henry thought, sourly. The human race had devised countless means for opening communications with an alien race, but they’d never been tested until now. Maybe even the simplest signal was too human-centric to be of interest to the aliens. Or maybe they just wanted to establish their superiority before opening communications and dictating terms.
“I know that,” he said, petulantly. “But why doesn’t it make me feel better?”
“Because you’re not a sociopath,” Janelle said. “You have a heart; you can think and feel and be empathic, even towards aliens. But you also have to understand that the aliens are bent on our destruction, at least as far as we can tell.”
Henry looked down at her. “Are you always this serious?”
“I’ve been known to crack a bad joke or two,” Janelle said. She smiled, suddenly. It was like looking right into the sun. “But right now I don’t feel like being funny.”
Henry swallowed as she stood and paced over to the transparent canopy. “My grandfather was born on an asteroid,” she said. “He used to say that it was just a matter of time before we encountered another intelligent race, because he believed that life in space was just better than life on Earth. But he went back to Earth and never returned to space.”
“People have been saying that for years,” Henry said. “But there’s just something about a planet which is truly reassuring.”
Janelle smiled. “True enough,” she agreed. “But space does offer more room for expansion.”
She looked serious for a long moment. “They made me study the tramlines in the Academy,” she said. “I believe they wanted me to become a survey officer.”
Henry felt a sudden stab of envy. Survey officers not only had an autonomy that even a Royal Navy Captain couldn’t enjoy, they also spent years away from Earth at a time. He’d seriously considered applying to join the Survey Corps, only to be told that Prince Henry, even in disguise, would not be considered a suitable candidate for political reasons. And Janelle had simply rejected the honour of expanding humanity’s borders?
“We’re still in a relatively tiny area of space,” Janelle said, “and we have already encountered one other alien race. For all we know, there might be many more intelligent races within only a few hundred light years of our worlds.”
“Or trapped in a system without tramlines,” Henry said. But there had been at least one attempt to launch an STL colony ship. Rumour had it that several more had been dispatched without any form of official notification. “Or unable to develop technology of their own.”
“True,” Janelle agreed. She turned and motioned for him to come and join her. “This is the dawning of a whole new age of humanity.”
“And we’re at war with the first alien race we encountered,” Henry said, dryly. He stood next to her, suddenly very aware of her perfume. It was so light that he wondered, for a long moment, if he was simply imagining it. “I don’t think that’s a good start.”
“No, it isn’t,” Janelle said. “But you never know what else might be up there.”
She looked at him and smiled. Henry hesitated, then opened his mouth. “Would you… would you like to catch a movie sometime?”
Janelle looked at him for a long moment. It dawned on Henry in a moment of complete and total mortification that he’d made a complete fool of himself. There were entertainment complexes on the ship, true, but most of them were for more than two people. The remainder were intended for more intimate activities than watching a movie. He cringed inwardly, praying silently for the deck to swallow him whole or for his heart to stop beating. He’d screwed up badly.
“I think I’d like that,” she said. “But it might have to wait until after we reach our destination.”
Henry almost sagged in relief. He knew what some of the cruder pilots would say — their advice on getting into female panties had been bragging, rather than anything practical — but he didn’t just want to get into bed with her. He’d be lying if he told himself he wasn’t attracted to her, yet she was clearly intelligent and capable. She could be much more than just another fling, not that he’d been allowed many of them. Even his casual encounters while he’d been Prince Henry had been carefully planned. And many of the details had ended up in the media anyway.
“I understand,” he said. “I can wait.”
She smiled at him. “So can I,” she said. It took Henry a moment to realise he was being teased. “But maybe not for very long.”
Henry had to laugh. Being a prince made it hard to meet girls. He’d met girls who wanted to brag they’d slept with a prince, girls who were reluctant to even talk with him for fear the media would notice, girls who thought he had a reputation and refused to even look at him… and he hadn’t met many girls as Charles Augustus. The women at Sin City had wanted to strip him of his funds, not develop an intimate relationship. Some of the conversation from the older pilots, afterwards, had been very illuminating.
“Thank you,” he said, and meant it.
Janelle gave him an odd look, then turned back to the canopy and stared out into the stars.
“That could hardly have gone better,” Rose said.
Kurt smiled as she rolled off him and lay down on the deck. She’d come to his office as soon as she’d put her pilots to bed, then practically dragged him down and climbed on top of him, her fingers hastily unbuttoning his uniform. Kurt hadn’t had any time for foreplay, but judging from the noises she’d made it hadn’t mattered. Like so many others, Rose found being in combat and surviving exciting.
“It did have its moments,” he agreed. He would have loved to stay beside her for hours, perhaps gently rubbing and kissing her breasts in preparation for a second round, but time wasn’t on their side. Maybe, when they returned to Earth, they could take a holiday somewhere away from everyone else. “Or did you mean the sex?”
Rose poked him as he sat upright and stumbled towards the shower. “I meant the battle,” she said. “We had the advantage and never let go of it.”
“True,” Kurt agreed. He stepped into the shower and turned the tap, allowing warm water to cascade down into the basin. Behind him, Rose stepped into the shower too and hugged him, her bare breasts pushing against his back. “But we also lost the advantage of surprise.”
Rose snickered. “I believe it’s your job to worry about it,” she said. “I merely care for my pilots.”
Kurt sobered. Ark Royal had taken serious losses in pilots during their first mission, but this promised to be worse. They were jumping right into the heart of enemy territory, after all, and the enemy had already managed to damage the carrier. Who knew what else they could do, given a few days to prepare a warm reception? There were just too many possibilities.