The Lost Aria (Earth Song Book 3) Read online

  Minu stayed for a few minutes after Cynthia left, quietly sitting and holding Pip's hand. It might have felt once like he squeezed back, but she knew better. Your imagination sometimes tries to give you what you most hope for. A short time later she was gone.

  The trip to her cabin in the trusty red sports aerocar was a familiar one. Minu was sure she could probably fly it with her eyes closed. She knew the car could. As she climbed out of the car on the ceramic concrete landing pad she breathed the familiar scents of home, but somehow not as home-like as before. She'd become used to the blast furnace heat of the desert, and none of her new family was there. As she carried her bag in she found herself thinking of Mindy, a common thing here, and all the years she spent alone after the last of her children died, her husband long gone. It was the first time she'd really thought about how her own life might end, or what might happen after she retired. She didn't want to spend it alone.

  Once she'd settled into the little cabin, got her dirty clothes into the automated Concordia made washer, and some food cooking, Minu settled back in an ancient easy chair and took up her personal tablet. Over the next few days she fell into a routine. Wake up, take a nude swim in the tepid lake water, bathe, eat breakfast, work out, blind fight, lunch, relax and read for an hour, work out again, a late afternoon dip in the lake again, another bath, and in bed to read until she fell asleep. Intermixed with that were orders and follow up reports for the soldiers.

  Her reading list was massive and dominated by the thousands of pages from her father’s mission logs and the Concordia computer data Pip stole years ago. The later were several orders of magnitude larger than the logs, but also infinitely more boring. The realization from P'ing that they were 'allowed' to steal the data made it all that much more compelling, and frustrating. What data they had purposely not been allowed to take kept her up at nights.

  As her time off was running down Minu loaded her bags and took her car to Plateau. On the east ridge of the huge escarpment sat the overwhelming edifice of the Plateau University. Despite collecting two degrees from there over the years, she'd only rarely set foot on the campus; an occasional test, the rare in person lecture, and two award ceremonies for her degrees. Chosen got special considerations for distance learning, even on classes that were not normally offered as such.

  As she flew over the plateau she was again taken by the volume of flying traffic. Every time she came back the skies were busier. It already sported more flying vehicles than Serengeti; of course the Beezer weren't as big on flying as many species. The car descended towards an automatic landing at the university. Far to the west was Chosen Tower, the old headquarters of the Chosen, now a medium sized building among the ever growing number of skyscrapers.

  “Dean Shinobu, I'm pleased to meet you in person,” Minu said warmly and shook the woman’s hand. The Dean’s assistant bowed slightly after seeing her in and left, closing the office door behind her.

  “And you, Chosen Alma.” Minu smiled and looked around the simply appointed office. The dean was an attractive woman in her forties, obviously of Peninsula ancestry. For some reason Minu never realized the dean of special programs was a woman. “Can I assume your visit is in relation to our offer?”

  “Correct, and thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”

  “Not at all, we would be honored to have you here at the university. Many of us are very proud and impressed with what you have accomplished.”

  “Don't take this wrong, but you're from Peninsula, right? The Chosen aren't exactly liked there, or me either.”

  “We're not all quite that ignorant,” she said with a wry smile. “I and others completely understand the necessity to bring us forward from our cocoon.” She came from around her desk to look out the long window at one side. With her office on the twentieth floor of the ultra-modern university complex you could just glimpse through the haze the far side of the plateau, some five kilometers away. “I heard through the grapevine that they took away your fantastic soldiers.”

  “I’ve been reassigned to the training branch. However I've also been elected by the Tog to by their representative to humanity.”

  “That I hadn't heard. So, are you going to give it up and come teach for us?”

  “I'm sorry, but no. There is too much for me to do still, and I can't do it from outside the Chosen.”

  Shinobu looked obviously disappointed, and resigned at the same time. She turned to Minu and nodded in understanding. “You Chosen are a breed apart. I'm really not shocked. Will you still proceed with your War College at least?”

  “If the university is still willing to host it.”

  “And if I say we aren't?”

  “Well, then it will be my turn to be disappointed.”

  “And I suppose you will just go ahead and do it somewhere else.”

  “Yes, you are right about that.”

  “I see. Just as well that the board of governors has already agreed to sit a chair for you then, even if not as a full time professorship. Congratulations, you're the dean of the new Plateau University War College. So let’s sit down and figure out how this is all going to work out.”

  Minu couldn’t help but smile as she pulled out her tablet and powered it up. “I just happen to have a few ideas.”

  In her months absence from Ft. Jovich construction had been completed. No more open conduits, exposed wiring, or unfinished rooms. She was glad she got to see it finished before losing her place in command. Gregg had met her in the hanger, resplendent in his new Chosen/Soldier hybrid uniform. The camo tiger stripe pattern fatigues she’d chosen for the soldiers was blended with black stripes down the arms and legs representing his branch of Scout. Three black stars now rode his sleeves, just like hers. “If I had to lose the soldiers, I’m glad it was to you.”

  Gregg smiled behind her old desk and looked…in command. “The council wouldn’t let Jacob put anyone in charge except someone who’d worked with you in training the soldiers.”

  “And speaking of soldiers, are you ready for my official last act as commander?”

  “Let’s do this.” He pushed the intercom button. “Ariana, tell the commanders that we are ready.” Then he stood and headed for the door. Minu was glad he’d kept her old assistant, Ariana Beck, on when he took over. She was both capable, and knew the forts operations better than anyone except Minu or Gregg.

  Down on the main floor of the fort she found every man, woman, and Rasa of the service waiting for her. Eighteen hundred men and woman, and almost two thousand Rasa arrayed in order by army, company, platoon and squad. Lines firmly dressed and uniforms crisp as razors. Every one of them had their kits on their backs, and Shock Rifles slung over their shoulders. That too was one of her last acts as commander. She’d seen to the Rasa being issued the weapons. They’d shed the same blood on a battlefield, there was no more need for false pretenses.

  Minu led the way and she and Gregg mounted the address stand to face their men. As she stopped at the podium thousands of arms snapped to heads in salute and back down, hands slapping their thighs and left feet stomping the ground making the air reverberate.

  “At ease,” she said, the invisible microphones catching her voice and sending it out booming over the room. With mechanical precision the host of troops clasped hands between their backs and changed their stance to a slightly more comfortable one with feet spread precisely a half meter apart. “It’s really good to be back in uniform finally.”

  The room exploded into a cheer. “Mi-nu, Mi-nu, Mi-nu!”

  She smiled despite herself and shook her head. “Would you please stop that?”

  “YES BOSS!” roared the soldiers and she laughed despite herself.

  “You honor me, one and all. But as you know, I won’t be your boss anymore.” She bowed her head and recalled the prepared speech, then, in a second she tossed it from her mind and went with her heart. “I’ve personally helped train every one of you. Fought to get you the best equipment, all the skills you need t
o be soldiers, and then went into battle with you.

  “On the fields of Amber we first showed the Tanam what they were facing.” The men all cheered and she waited patiently for it to die down. “Then on Serengeti we taught them the meaning of the word defeat!” More cheers and her name chanted. This time she cut it short. “And we left lives there. We fought, we bled, and we died on that world. Human and Rasa, Chosen and soldier, we are now a family forged in the heat of battle; forever brothers and sisters in arms together.

  “Though you might be soldiers, that is not a name, it is a simply what you are. Like I am Chosen, I am a commander. Others are Scouts, Scientists, Logisticians, or Trainers. To name something is part of the human condition. Present company excluded,” she smiled and nodded to where Var’at stood with his officers. The Rasa had both eyes fixed on her, his undivided attention. He gave her a brief nod of understanding before she continued. “You needed a name.

  “With that decision made I searched through human history to find a suitable title for you. There are many names of honor throughout that history, many with much storied pasts that still ring in our tales. Spartans, Trojans, Special Forces, Spetsnaz, Legionnaires, Vikings, I could go on for hours. But for us I chose something that transcends any one era. I find it first used in the middle ages England, special soldiers who fought in woodlands, able to operate without support and live off the land. It was revived during the Second World War by the Allies for their soldiers trained to go anywhere, anytime, and act behind enemy lines. They continued in use by the United States until Earth was destroyed, one of the most elite fighting forces of the world.”

  “So from this day forth, you are to be known as Rangers, one and all. The tradition is reborn.”

  Minu waited while the soldiers received their Rangers patches from their platoon sergeants who fixed them to the logo adhesive spot on their shoulders. It was a black and red tab, symbolizing their unity with the Chosen scouts, curved slightly, that said in block letters “RANGER”. It was a very minor change to the uniform, but she hoped a major change to the fighting force as a whole. They needed an independent identity, not in the shadow of the Chosen. Then it was ready to finish.

  Gregg came up beside her and saluted. “Chosen Alma, I relieve you.”

  “Chosen Larsen, I stand relieved.” And it was over. There was a short reception afterwards, attended by sergeant and above only. She shook hands (and claws), accepted congratulations on her appointment as ambassador, even though everyone knew it was not a promotion, and good wishes in her career. She also got to speak to Lieutenant Theodore Bodenson, formerly Sgt. Bodenson. He was the sergeant who’d led the charge to capture the highborn at the end of the Serengeti Campaign as it was called in the records. He was the first ever officer promoted from the ranks of the Rangers. Minu shook his hand and congratulated him. “I know you won’t be the last.”

  Chapter 5

  Octember 2nd, 521 AE

  Governing Complex, Capital City, Herdhome, Tog Leasehold

  Living on Herdhome every other month was at first a joy that quickly became a pain. Minu didn't exactly hate it; her apartment was luxurious as was the office and budget provided by P'ing. She also appreciated the grudging respect the Beezer now afforded her in such a prestigious position as Humanity’s representative to the Tog. The open animosity with which she was treated by the elected officials of her home planet was no real surprise. She'd known her position was formerly one of those cozy jobs given to a fat old political hack nearing retirement. P'ing's arbitrary decision to appoint Minu to the post, and thus force the retirement of the old office holder came as a shock to the bureaucrats of Bellatrix, and a sort of wakeup call. The Tog were still in charge, and best you don't forget it.

  Minu's real dislike of living on Herdhome came with the bureaucratic dealings, which made up ninety percent of her job, and the environment. While perfectly suited for the Tog, the perpetually overcast world was like walking around a darkened movie theater, even at high noon. The world’s atmosphere was warmer than Bellatrix, somewhat more humid, and contained more oxygen as well. The whole effect left her feeling like she was always sleepy, but too full of energy to actually sleep. When her friends Cherise and Gregg came to visit during her second month of duty on the dim world, they'd brought her a gift of light intensifying 'sun glasses'. Ted Hurt and Bjorn Ganose, aware of her new situation, personally rigged the common appearing sun glasses with light intensifying technology. They helped keep her from feeling like she was stumbling around inside a closet when she took to the narrow Tog crowded streets.

  “Damn nice office,” Gregg whistled when he saw it. Easily twice the size of Dram's, Second among the Chosen office, and nearly equal to Jacob's, it was well appointed with three walls made from fluid displays allowing her to make them look like anything she wanted. One usually showed a view from the upper floor of the Steven's Pass facility in the spring, or out the window of her little island cabin, the others were often blank or displaying data files.

  “Impressive,” Cherise agreed. Minu snorted and they both took comfortable human configured seats. There were two of them along with three of the low couches the Tog preferred. “Don't be that way, it is a nice office!”

  “I know, but the job is bullshit. All I do is get emails from P'ing and forward them to either the Bellatrix Council, Jacob, or some business man. I mean, really?”

  Gregg was busy studying some of the files displayed on the one wall. “Military doctrine…The ethics of multi-species command…Civilian casualty mitigation?”

  Minu shrugged and waved a hand to wipe the data, replacing it with a second wall matching that of the view from Steven's Pass, creating a huge three wall panorama. “War College stuff,” she admitted.

  “So you are going forward with it?” Cherise asked. Minu tried to avoid blushing. “Damn you! Are you going to quit the Chosen?”

  “No, actually we worked out a compromise.” They both glared at her so she fished into her desk, one of the small writing desks from her cabin that she'd had taken through a Portal, her only memento from home besides digital images, and handed them both a card. On it in nondescript black printing was;

  Minu Alma

  Chosen – 3SC

  Associate Professor - Military Science

  Dean, Plateau University War College

  “I knew you wouldn't resist that offer,” Gregg laughed and pocketed the card.

  “But you're not quitting?” demanded Cherise.

  “No, I'm using most of my spare time working with the university getting the war college off the ground. The first classes start next quarter.”

  “So will you be teaching?” Cherise asked.

  “Yes, I'll be directly teaching some distance learning classes regularly and at least one series of lectures a month.” They both gave her reproachful looks. “Just think of this as life after Chosen. My father told me to go to school; I'm only following his wishes.” She wished she didn't feel dirty now every time she mentioned her father.

  “What does Dram think of your moon lighting?”

  “It's none of his damned business,” she said darkly. “What the hell am I supposed to do here most of the time, stare at the wall until a message comes in?” They both shrugged and she looked at them. “Don't get me wrong, but there has to be a reason you came to this dingy corner of the universe, besides bringing me these cool glasses.” Gregg stared at the ceiling and Cherise stared at him. After a minute she leaned over and punched him hard in the arm.

  “Ouch, damn!”

  “Spill it,” she snapped.

  “Spill what?” Minu demanded.

  Gregg took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. “We’re taking the Rangers into the field next week.”

  Minu sat up straight in her chair. “What! Tanam again?”

  “No, not a squeak from the cats. Intel thinks they’re still licking their wounds.

  “So what’s going on? Trouble with the Tog or Beezer?”

  “Nope.
”

  “Gregg, you might have three stars too but you’re starting to piss me off.”

  “We’ve been hired as a garrison unit for the world Coorson.”

  “That’s not a Tog aligned world.”

  “No, it belongs to the Traaga.”

  “The scary starfish guys who did the structural work on Fort Jovich.”

  “Right,” Gregg said and snapped his fingers. “They’ve been doing a lot of high-steel work all over Bellatrix. They can run up the side of a forty story building and dangle by one arm without blinking an eye. Or several eyes on that periscope head of theirs.”

  Minu suppressed a shudder. Even though the Traaga were actually very meek and the poorest species she’d ever known, they were the most disgusting appearing one as well. “Are they contracting for the other fort construction as well?”

  “Yep,” Cherise confirmed. “We’re still working on the foundation for Ft. Chandler, but they’re putting up the superstructure for Ft. Alma as we speak.”

  Minu made a face and wished they’d go back farther in the list of First among the Chosen before getting to her father when it came to naming the defensive fortresses. “So why do the Traaga want to hire us, and since when are the Rangers for hire?”

  “It’s Jacob’s big idea,” Gregg took up the conversation. “We started getting requests left and right to hire the Rangers within weeks of pasting the Tanam. A surprising number of species from small and obscure to huge and powerful. Initially they were disregarded as cranks or possibly a plot to get even, but as the requests got more credible the Tog came in and told us they had no opinion on the offers. And that lent them credibility. Turns out some of the bigger species were trying to move the offers through the Tog, pressuring us to take the contracts. So we’re accepting our first contract. Carefully picked for the species neutrality, and our relationship. The Traaga say the Tanam are making hostile overtures toward their interests, but no details why.”