Chapter Two

Juniper

Priya turned the water off and dragged the towel from across the door of her cubicle. She wanted to stand under the showerhead a little longer, let the drops catch on her face mindlessly. Showering was one of Junpier’s few delights, one of those rare instances when her every action was not at the mercy of a superior. She held her hand out and watched beads of water spear off the end of her fingernails into tiny vortices.

But then she remembered she had some place else to be. Even today, when she had no duties, her time was strictly prescribed. She sighed, and ducked the frame of her cubicle, parcelled into her towel, mopping herself down with a second one as she did.

She stopped at a coat rack, stuffed herself into a vest and trousers, standard issue of course. Personal expression, like showers lasting more than five minutes, was a luxury her masters could ill afford them. She caught herself staring in the mirror. Tired eyes stared back; green rings nested in heavy bags. Priya was well-built, with bulging arms and a strong neck.

She headed down the corridor toward the mess hall, her hair pegged into a ponytail under a cap. She straightened her back, lest a passing officer bark at her for slouching.

‘All Juniper residents, sections violet through amber, please certify at your earliest convenience,’ a speaker ordered above her.

‘Sure, sure,’ Priya muttered.

She passed left, then right along lines of uniform lining up to collect packs of protein and vitamins, bottled into capsules. There was a choice of carbs. They all had the same offish cardboard taste. Flatpack furniture sprung up along the edges of the hall, glaring under rows of piercing lights. Juniper wasn’t unlike the Earth-class colony ships- sterile, nondescript, as if assembled from the same instructions.

‘Hey, Peshk,’ she called at one of the tables. A girl was hunched across it, strong and shaven headed, egged on by sniggering uniform as she regaled them with some story.

‘A minute,’ the girl called Peshk said to them. ‘Priya.’

‘You telling them about Askhavet?’

Peshk laughed. ‘Ha, yeah. You good?’

‘I wondered if you wanted to catch something tonight, go on a walk or something.’

The girl stooped to tighten her boot laces. ‘No Jase?’

‘He’s on activities. I got a rec. I just thought with you shipping out—’

‘And you, Earthie.’

‘I just thought with us shipping out,’ she said, laughing, ‘we could catch up, for the last time for fucking forever.’

‘I mean, I have exercises in the San, but after sure. General Molt is moving up the deployments a day for most of us because of unrest on the Farms. There was another bombing on Valdern.’

‘Anti-war?’

‘Anti-war, independence, I can never tell. I wasn’t meant to rotate out for another month.’ Peshk thought. ‘But thanks to some asshat pirate Molt has me loading boxes all day onto a carrier instead.’

Priya smiled. ‘I can think of worse jobs, Peshk. And as rotations go, peacekeeping anti-colonists is one of the better ones.’

At that, Peshk laughed loudly. ‘Think of it this way. You get the motherland, and I get eighteen months on Valliant trapped in a human cesspool of sweat and shit and horny privates in a submarine.’

‘You’d fit in.’

She scowled a little. ‘Shouldn’t you be knee-deep in books right now. Reading ‘bout plants or some such.’

‘Since when have I been a botanist?’

‘Since I just decided. They’re all the same.’

‘My doctorate is in microbiology.’

‘Sorry, they’re all the same, Doctor.’

‘You know, ‘cos of that I do technically outrank you.’

Peshk smiled falsely. ‘Don’t think you ever told me that before.’

‘Coldhill,’ a strong voice rasped behind Priya. She turned, and Peshk beat a hasty farewell, back to her gaggle of cronies.

‘Sir?’ Priya said.

Lieutenannt Shapp stood over her, with a smug look that made it seem he delighted in startling his subordinates. He was a wiry man, white as stone and peered through the glare of rounded spectacles.

‘You busy?’ he said, looking past her to where Peshk was now sat.

‘No, Sir. I have a rec day.’

‘Drop it.’

‘Sir?’ Her heart sank.

‘I have business for you. I’ll see that your tasks tomorrow get reassigned.’

He turned on his heel, and she promptly followed, careful to tighten her shoulders, to stand as if hoisted by some imaginary string. It hurt more than it should. Her joints throbbed with the deadened aches of her workouts. They were prescribed. Hundred-twenty push-ups. Sixty sit-ups. Sixty back-lifts, hundred squats, eighty lunges. Then the hour of free time she got in the gym. Sandwiched the other side of rec was a five-klick run round campus.

They filtered from the mess hall, and into the rec area outside a pair of yawning glass doors. A ball court was tucked in the shade of overhang from amber block behind them, and a canal passed opposite, a patrol cantering by its far bank. Flowing fountains and blossomed trees scattered the quad. They hid the military-ness of it all.

‘What’s this about, Sir?’ Priya summoned the courage to ask.

‘If I knew,’ Shapp said.

Priya glanced sideways. Between amber and mauve block, the campus opened up on a long stretch towards the Monument. And behind, she could see the haze of Atlas across the West San River, a shroud of grey stacks and smog. Peaking above were the shining spires of New Central. They basked in an orange sky, painted in crested slithers of white cloud.

‘You’ll get your three weeks’ vacation after your next rotation,’ Shapp said, noting her longing look at the Capital.

‘Respectfully, Sir, I’m on rotation for the next three years.’

‘So you are.’ Shapp forced an unapologetic smile. He led her on, past the ball court where two men were exchanging blows in a boxing match, egged on by ring of onlookers. Shapp seemed to pay them no mind.

‘You’re privileged, Coldhill.’

‘How’s that, Sir?’

‘No human of the Confederacy has set foot on Earth for near eight centuries. You carry a great honour, and a great burden, to be amongst the first to return. War draws closer daily, yet this mission offers the public some hope that things can be better.’

‘Three years is a long time for a publicity stunt, Sir. War could be with us by then.’ She was briefly distracted by a line of uniform running along the quad, in the direction of the airfield. Heavy crates sagged between their arms.

‘Perhaps that’s why it’s needed. A mission to the homeland is extremely public and will suffer the full scrutiny of Parliament were it to fail. We can’t rush these things. As a scientist, I’m sure you understand that.’

‘Politics and PR isn’t my area of expertise, Sir. I wouldn’t know.’ She kept her deeper doubts hidden. A long-term mission to Earth was sure to have ulterior motive.

‘A sly answer. You heard nothing from me, but the Minister for Colonial Affairs wants an Earth colony within a decade. I’m reliably told, whispers and suchlike, that it’s on their manifesto for the local elections.’

And there it is.

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‘That’s a big risk, Sir.’

Earth was a memory, a dark and dangerous memory.

‘A popular risk. People like to reminisce, to reconcile. Humanity’s affinity for Earth is no more tenuous than it was when we left. And we live in an age of populism.’

‘I don’t have the luxury of following politics, Lieutenant. I mean no offence,’ Priya hastened to add.

Shapp smiled from the corner of her eye. ‘None taken. Left here.’ He gestured down an alley that sloped down from one of the blocks, bordered by a brickwork flowerbed. ‘There’s a local population on Earth. It’s a tricky situation.’

‘Sir?’

‘Artefacts of the Departure. Prisoners and refugees once upon a time. I wouldn’t dare pretend they would be friendly. We would be settling their home after all.’

‘It’s a severe complication,’ Priya agreed.

‘If you ask me, the whole thing is best avoided. The legal status of the land is disputed.’

‘It would make sense. They are still technically citizens of the Confederacy. Without reasonable grounds, any occupation would be illegal, wouldn’t it?’

Shapp hummed. ‘Unlawful, yes. Illegal, hard to say. There is no restraint to stop the Confederacy occupying any of the colonies. And what are ‘reasonable grounds’? The whole thing is a quagmire of interpretation.’

Priya thought. ‘One would imagine the indigenous’ ignorance of that, and of their legal rights, makes a practical solution… well, impractical.’

‘Well said. Some pro bono legal advisors have wind of it, much like the press. They’re threatening Parliament with legal action if they go ahead with an occupation, on behalf of the indigenous. Consider it friendly advice, but I would impress upon you the seriousness of the matter.’

Priya had never presumed Shapp to be one to take a liking to her. Why else would he talk so freely?

‘Then why go to the hassle of going?’ Priya said.

‘No doubt there’s profit in it.’ Shapp sighed. ‘The Minister is most insistent, and his leadership campaign is backed by some extremely powerful PACs.’

‘The… war lobby?’ Priya hesitated to ask. Even speaking the question implied opinion she was forbidden from having.

‘The sorts who benefit from it, yes,’ Shapp said. ‘Consider an Earth colony and the war go hand in hand. War is the bitter pill.’

‘And Earth is the glass of water you swallow it with.’

‘Something like that.’ He looked at Priya. ‘You’re a good soldier, Coldhill. One of the sharper ones.’

She smiled, but given her education, that was scarce a compliment.

Shapp then paused at a glass door that fed into the foyer of an office tower, for Juniper’s more senior residents. For a moment, he looked wounded, then held a hand to the side and the door slid open with a beep. He pointed Priya up to the main desk wordlessly.

‘Is everything okay, Sir?’ she asked.

‘Quite alright. It’s as you say, we don’t have the luxury of following politics. State your name and they’ll direct you to General Cholin.’

She nodded but didn’t recognise the name. Shapp held a hand to her shoulder then turned to leave.

Most of the Confederacy’s senior commanders were based at Juniper. It was the premier facility of its kind in the capital worlds. Many of the men and women in this block reported directly to the Cabinet Office. For now, the Ministry of Defence commanded more of the government’s time and money than its other twenty-three departments combined.

It showed in this place.

The glare of the screens wrapped around the walls like some giant mosaic, casting patterns across the floor the way light shimmered through clear water. From here, the walls reached up into a twirling cylinder of glass. The oranged sky cut into the building from all angles, from every floor and window, in one side, and out the other. Layers of glass, on glass, on glass.

At her approach, a giant face appeared to span the screen behind the welcome desk. It was automated, like most things. Priya paused for a plane of light to cut through her then stated her business.

‘Dr Coldhill, P. Corporal, for General Cholin,’ she said, and the face’s placid eyes buzzed green.

‘Room 7AA,’ the face replied blankly.

Priya nodded in gratitude, even if it was a machine, and took to the spiralled walkway that split the welcome hall from the cascade of offices up the building. Giant numerals told her each time she had completed another lap of the block. She stopped at 7, and began to count the offices off from A, to a second ringed corridor. She scurried past 7X and 7Y, then 7Z and at last AA.

She knocked, but the door fell open under the weight of her hand anyway.

‘Doctor,’ a woman she presumed to be General Cholin said.

Priya stumbled for a word. She was captive momentarily. Cholin was not human. The sight was still uncommon in the Confederacy. In such militarised institutions anyway. The General merely smiled and gestured Priya sit.

‘I’m used to that look,’ Cholin said.

She was a moon, a beautiful people from the colony world of Azuus. They had blacker than black skin, and clear, pupilless eyes, beads of white. Their hair was a glossy silver. Once mere farmers, to whom humanity had opened its Pandora’s Box. Now, centuries hence, they sat amongst mankind not quite as equals, but as others.

‘Forgive me, General.’ Priya glanced to her boots and sat across an arching desk.

‘General Cholin,’ came another voice.

Priya turned, startled in her chair. Jase’s head poked through the angle of the door. He looked sheepish. ‘Pree,’ he added, with a not unprofessional smile. They were used to skirting around each other during the day.

‘Sergeant Anders,’ Cholin acknowledged. ‘Sit’. She kicked out a second chair beside Priya.

Jase said nothing but looked from one to the other confusedly.

‘What’s this about, General?’ he asked.

Cholin stooped to pluck a slither of paper from a drawer and flattened them against the desk. ‘I offer my congratulations for your placement in the Fourth Battalion. Whilst I don’t perhaps appreciate its significance as much as… well, a human, you are immensely privileged, and should be proud.’

The more people told Priya she ought to be grateful, the less she thought she was.

Jase leaned forwards, clasped his hands under his chin. ‘Respectfully, General, there’s over four thousand personnel on this mission. You didn’t meet with us to congratulate us.’

Priya stifled a laugh. She reached a hand to his under the desk, unseen by Cholin. He turned her little finger through his thumb.

As Shapp had seemed to, Cholin sank. Her shoulders drooped and her head dipped a fraction. ‘As a married couple, the two of you are in a unique situation.’

‘We’re professional,’ Priya said, insulted at the tone of Cholin’s voice, as if it was a veiled insult. ‘We’ve never spoken outside of rec hours. We both receive Outstanding quarterly papers.’

‘That may be,’ the moon said, ‘but the Disciplinary Board have deemed it inappropriate, given the circumstances and magnitude of the operation to Earth. There is no room for unprofessionalism.’

‘There isn’t a blemish on our records,’ Priya repeated.

Cholin sighed. She pushed forward one of the papers. ‘It’s best I am blunt. This is a court order annulling your marriage.’

Priya felt the weight lift in Jase’s legs. Her hand squeezed his in warning. They could give the Confederacy no excuse, she thought then, to act further. She could not react. She could not argue in emotional terms, she knew that. Her protestations must be reasoned, considered. A fire swirled through her but even in the moment she could not surrender to it.

Instead, she swallowed.

‘I see. Why weren’t we informed in advance?’

Cholin raised her hands cluelessly.

‘Your signature is on the court order with the judge,’ Jase said, snatching the paper. He kept his voice in check enough.

Cholin should be grateful they were surrounded by hundreds of officers of the Confederacy. Were this conversation anymore private, Priya would let the strength of her feeling be known.

‘If I hadn’t signed it, another General would, and look at me. Do you think I’m in any more of a position to argue than you? I’m under no illusions, just as you shouldn’t be about this.’

‘Is this technically legal?’

Cholin gave a stiff nod. ‘Do you think I’d have signed it if it wasn’t?’

Priya took the letter and scanned it, but the words passed over her. ‘Why?’

‘Married couples aren’t technically allowed to serve together on active duty. In any case, the Department of Defence wants to minimise the risk of any public failings.’

‘Our marriage is a threat to PR?’

‘It gives the media, the tabloids, an angle. It looks unprofessional. Childish.’

‘You’ve never been in love have you, General?’

‘I’m a hermaphrodite. We self-partner, and don’t mate for life. No, I haven’t been in love.’

Jase scowled a little. ‘Marriage isn’t unprofessional. It’s a fact of life.’

‘That may be, but your love for each other affects the way you work, whether you believe that or not. And on a three-year rotation, one would forgive a slip-up, but tabloids wouldn’t. Removing your marriage changes the optics on the situation.’

Priya wrestled to bottle her feelings. ‘I enlisted after my doctorate. I’ve served eight years now and been married for seven. I’ve received no warnings from Discipline for inappropriate behaviour and have never scored less than Excellent on twenty-nine quarterly reports. So…’

‘So?’

The temptation to say ‘bullshit’ was strong.

‘So, I strongly disagree with the court’s decision to condone this.’

‘If it tempers your feeling, you may consider yourselves lucky you are still on the same rotation at all. I had to fight for that. The Disciplinary Board originally wanted you on separate shipments. This was a compromise. At the very least, you are still able to have a physical relationship.’

‘What is the point of annulling the marriage in the first place if not to discourage a relationship?’

‘I said: optics. Married, you’re a source of gossip, or resentment. It affects morale. Either of you make a mistake, we will be called careless. You: unprofessional. Your colleagues would feel aggrieved, think you might be treated differently, or worse, exploit you. Annulled, you’re just another lousy army fling.’

Jase swallowed.

‘Consider this meeting a courtesy, rather than a letter through your barracks.’ With a weighty sigh, Cholin reached for one of her other sheets of paper and passed it across to Priya directly.

‘What’s that?’ Jase said, peering across.

More bad news, no doubt, Priya thought.

‘Doctor Coldhill, you are by court-order mandated to the use of birth control throughout the course of your deployment.’

A chilled rage ran down Priya’s spine.

Jase leaned across the desk. ‘Is this a joke?’

‘I’ll forgive your tone, Sergeant. No, all female personnel are required to do so.’

‘I have a vasectomy,’ Jase blurted.

‘That may be, but her sexual fidelity can’t be guaranteed in the timescale of the mission.’

‘Tell me you’re not serious, General.’

‘I said I am extremely serious.’

Jase reached a hand to Priya’s leg, but her mind was captive. She stared blankly at the paper and the words punctured her. Each one was a violation, of her, her body. Of the future. She had no doubt she could fulfil her duties and raise a child. It wasn’t something her and Jase had discussed, but nor was it something they had ruled out, to have theirs a child of planet Earth.

But if that had been even half a dream, it was nothing now.

She just felt cold. Like someone had reached inside her soul and crushed it under their fingers.

For the first time since he sat down, she looked at Jase. Properly looked. Her eyes fed on his handsome features, and the weight on her soul lifted a little.

‘Doctor Coldhill?’

‘Pree… Say something.’

‘It’s okay,’ she told Jase. It wasn’t, of course. But what use was the truth. ‘I’ll do it.’

They took her freedom and walked over it. They took her body and contorted it. Forced it into something unnatural. That wasn’t her choice. Even then, the IUD could make her hurt. Her body ache and bleed.

For his sake, she accepted it. But she didn’t have to like it. She took his hand again.

‘We’re at war,’ Cholin said then, strained, as if that somehow excused the entire conversation.

Priya looked at her. It was a week until the most important mission of her life and they had uprooted everything in it that mattered. How dare they.

‘But we’re not yet,’ she said.