tire.”
Drowning would certainly put an end to the swimming requests , thought Scott. “Night, Galya.”
“ Good night, lieutenant.”
“ Night everyone.”
“ See you tomorrow, Scott!”
Tomorrow. Captain’s permission or not, they weren’t sleeping in. Not on his watch. At least not too much, anyway. Scott waved to those nearby, and slipped out of Room 14.
It was funny how fast he’d adjusted to officer life. It was funny how fast his teammates had adjusted to him as an officer. It had slid into place like a glove.
He was excited about tomorrow. He wasn’t crazy about admitting it, but he liked the pool, too. It was a nice change of pace from outdoor training.
When he crawled into bed, sleep found him right away. He offered it no resistance.
5
Tuesday, August 2 nd , 0011 NE
EDEN Command
The night met Judge Torokin with restlessness. As Monday rolled over to Tuesday, he laid still in the bed of his judge’s suite. Despite he and Grinkov’s earlier enthusiasm for vodka, neither man had left Torokin’s room drunk. They only talked of past battles and future issues, then solemnly retired to their rooms.
It was politics that kept him awake. The banquet had rendered him bitter. This was a war. It was a war in which they had few answers to show for their roles. And they were bringing in more politicians. It made him sick.
Torokin slid out of bed. Throwing on his official judge attire, he gave himself a brief look in the mirror. This was a war—a war in which he felt unproductive. There was only one thing he could think of to do. The one thing he could do anytime.
He could try to get answers.
Torokin rarely visited Alien Confinement, despite the luxury of rank that enabled him to do so. He was more interested in other things such as tactics and movements and guns. But on occasion, he ventured inside—usually in the hours of night.
There was too much that EDEN didn’t know. That upset him. He was a man who lived for the offensive, and an offensive was the one thing they couldn’t mount. They had no way to invade the aliens’ worlds. They had no way to challenge their space-faring fleets. They had almost no way of doing anything—except waiting, reacting, and readjusting in the aftermaths of the incursions. That thought made Torokin feel vulnerable. He hated it.
As he stepped to the first security door, he eyed the camera above. The tired voice of a guard addressed him.
“ Please look into the retinal scanner.”
Torokin did so, then waited patiently as the first set of doors opened. Ahead, two sets of similar doors remained closed. A retinal scanner, a hand sensor, and a voice detector: the three requirements to obtain entry. And if those were compromised, there were six armed guards at the inner doorway. When added to the fact that no one knew exactly where EDEN Command was, it was safe to call Confinement secure.
As soon as Torokin had passed through the final two doors, he found himself inside the corridor. The familiar smell of sterility hit his nose.
“ Good evening, Judge Torokin,” one of the armed guards said in Russian. There was always at least one guard who could greet the judges in their native language. That was designed. “Can I assist you?”
“ No,” Torokin answered. “I know my way.”
The guard resumed his place as Torokin stepped past.
He knew he wouldn’t get answers from any of the aliens. At least, he’d get nothing new. They’d spoken to this same set of prisoners for months. There were only so many ways to ask the same questions. But that didn’t mean that Torokin wouldn’t try. At least he felt useful, even if it was only the false impression of true progress.
A scientist hurried to meet him. “Good evening, Judge Torokin. Will you be speaking to a prisoner today?” The scientist was Puerto Rican, but spoke English.
Torokin paused for a moment. “ic-22.”
“ Right this way.”
The code was actually a designation. An Ithini captured with
Drowning would certainly put an end to the swimming requests , thought Scott. “Night, Galya.”
“ Good night, lieutenant.”
“ Night everyone.”
“ See you tomorrow, Scott!”
Tomorrow. Captain’s permission or not, they weren’t sleeping in. Not on his watch. At least not too much, anyway. Scott waved to those nearby, and slipped out of Room 14.
It was funny how fast he’d adjusted to officer life. It was funny how fast his teammates had adjusted to him as an officer. It had slid into place like a glove.
He was excited about tomorrow. He wasn’t crazy about admitting it, but he liked the pool, too. It was a nice change of pace from outdoor training.
When he crawled into bed, sleep found him right away. He offered it no resistance.
5
Tuesday, August 2 nd , 0011 NE
EDEN Command
The night met Judge Torokin with restlessness. As Monday rolled over to Tuesday, he laid still in the bed of his judge’s suite. Despite he and Grinkov’s earlier enthusiasm for vodka, neither man had left Torokin’s room drunk. They only talked of past battles and future issues, then solemnly retired to their rooms.
It was politics that kept him awake. The banquet had rendered him bitter. This was a war. It was a war in which they had few answers to show for their roles. And they were bringing in more politicians. It made him sick.
Torokin slid out of bed. Throwing on his official judge attire, he gave himself a brief look in the mirror. This was a war—a war in which he felt unproductive. There was only one thing he could think of to do. The one thing he could do anytime.
He could try to get answers.
Torokin rarely visited Alien Confinement, despite the luxury of rank that enabled him to do so. He was more interested in other things such as tactics and movements and guns. But on occasion, he ventured inside—usually in the hours of night.
There was too much that EDEN didn’t know. That upset him. He was a man who lived for the offensive, and an offensive was the one thing they couldn’t mount. They had no way to invade the aliens’ worlds. They had no way to challenge their space-faring fleets. They had almost no way of doing anything—except waiting, reacting, and readjusting in the aftermaths of the incursions. That thought made Torokin feel vulnerable. He hated it.
As he stepped to the first security door, he eyed the camera above. The tired voice of a guard addressed him.
“ Please look into the retinal scanner.”
Torokin did so, then waited patiently as the first set of doors opened. Ahead, two sets of similar doors remained closed. A retinal scanner, a hand sensor, and a voice detector: the three requirements to obtain entry. And if those were compromised, there were six armed guards at the inner doorway. When added to the fact that no one knew exactly where EDEN Command was, it was safe to call Confinement secure.
As soon as Torokin had passed through the final two doors, he found himself inside the corridor. The familiar smell of sterility hit his nose.
“ Good evening, Judge Torokin,” one of the armed guards said in Russian. There was always at least one guard who could greet the judges in their native language. That was designed. “Can I assist you?”
“ No,” Torokin answered. “I know my way.”
The guard resumed his place as Torokin stepped past.
He knew he wouldn’t get answers from any of the aliens. At least, he’d get nothing new. They’d spoken to this same set of prisoners for months. There were only so many ways to ask the same questions. But that didn’t mean that Torokin wouldn’t try. At least he felt useful, even if it was only the false impression of true progress.
A scientist hurried to meet him. “Good evening, Judge Torokin. Will you be speaking to a prisoner today?” The scientist was Puerto Rican, but spoke English.
Torokin paused for a moment. “ic-22.”
“ Right this way.”
The code was actually a designation. An Ithini captured with
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