“It’s not that…” Linda said, her face tightening and then a look of horror even worse than the last crossing her face. “Oh, God, Countess Travante isn’t here, is she?”
“Yes,” June said, raising an eyebrow.
“I need to leave,” Linda snapped, looking around wildly and panting in panic. “I don’t care what this is all about. I need to leave right now!”
“Two things,” June said, glancing at one of the Blood Lord guards in the corridor. “The first is, you cannot leave. Period. You can try to run, but the camp is guarded and you will not be permitted to leave after entering the camp. So… just calm down. The second is, we need to talk about why you were brought here. But not in the corridor,” June said, gesturing down the hall. “Come on, find out why you’re here, then make decisions.”
“Crap,” Linda said, glancing at the Blood Lord and shaking her head. “Let’s go. I’ll listen. But Megan is… crap. I’m gonna die…”
“I think we need to talk, dear,” June said, patting her on the shoulder.
June’s office was comfortably appointed and she gestured Linda into a chair, then collapsed behind her desk.
“I didn’t ask for this job.” June sighed, opening up a file and shaking her head. “But I got it for my sins. Miss Donohue, the reason you were brought here is that when you applied for your job with the government you listed a background in quantum engineering. That was your hobby, pre-Fall?”
“Yes,” Linda said, shrugging. “I tinkered at it. Particle field generation theory, ionization theory and fusion mechanics.”
“A mission group is being formed that needs persons with your background,” June said. “Whether you agree to go on the mission or not, you will be confined to this camp until the completion of the mission. Even the fact that we are gathering such persons cannot come to the attention of New Destiny. Therefore, for reasons of security, we can do that under the War Powers Act. Your employer, which is the government after all, will be informed that you will be ‘away’ for a period of time and that you must be given your previous job back. You may send a note to one person,” June said, pulling out a printed card and slipping it across the desk. “That is the only communication that you will be permitted.”
Linda looked at that card and blanched. It was preprinted with a trite message about being unavailable for at least two months and helping out “the War Effort.”
“This is bullshit,” Linda snapped. “Damnit, I work for Duke Dehnavi! You can’t do this to me!”
“That is as it may be,” June said, sighing. “As I said, I hope that people won’t take this out on me. At a later time you’ll have people to shout at that are much more responsible for your predicament than I. And they’re better at being shouted at.”
“Herrick,” Linda spat.
“He is one, yes,” June said. “Can I ask you your… background with Commander Herrick. It won’t affect your being here; that is set in stone. But it may affect your participation in the mission.”
“No, you may not,” Linda answered, shaking her head. “What a nightmare!”
“Yes,” June said, shaking her head. “That is one adjective used for it. Insanity. Power-mad-myrmidons. Idiocy. Stupidity. Shanghaied, a very old term which I fortunately recognized. Insanity, again. Nightmare. One gentleman, who was a student of ancient literature along with being a qualified pilot, used ‘Kafkaesque’ for which I needed an explanation. But you haven’t gotten to the good part, yet.”
“And what is the good part?” Linda said angrily.
“The mission for which you are being asked to volunteer,” June said, smiling humorously.
“I’m not going to like this, am I?” Linda said.
“Probably not,” June replied, shaking her head but still smiling. “But let me get most of my spiel out before you start screaming, okay?”
“Ooo-kay,” Linda said cautiously.
“You’ve been brought here to join a mission to retake the returning helium three refueling ship,” June said. “My bet is that your response will be: ‘You are joking.’ Possibly followed by either: ‘Right?’ or ‘Tell me you’re joking.’ That’s as opposed to more stereotypically male responses such as: ‘No fisking way.’ ”
Linda opened her mouth and then closed it.
“You’re not joking,” was what she finally said.
“No, I am not,” June replied. “New Destiny intends to capture the ship so that they can monopolize the fuel. So are we. We hope that you will be willing to participate. In your case, you have background in the engineering tech used on the ship. Whether you participate or not, you will be kept at this facility. If you chose not to participate in the mission, we’ll still ask that you accept a support position. However, the mission positions are far better paid. Far better.”
“How much?” Linda asked.
“You are classified as a Level One Engineering tech,” June answered. “That is nineteen hundred credits per month and a twenty thousand credit bonus upon mission completion, based upon mission performance.”
“That’s a lot,” Lind said, frowning. “But explain the mission performance thing.”
“The credits are banked,” June said. “There’s nothing to spend them on, anyway, and you’re given full support here. If you agree to perform the mission and then refuse at the last minute your salary is recalculated at minimum maintenance, which is thirty credits per month.”
“That’s less than what a day laborer makes!” Linda snapped.
“You’re being supported, unlike a day laborer,” June pointed out. “That is also the rate at which you will be paid if you refuse to support in any fashion. If you agree to do the mission, go on the mission and then are unable to perform under the conditions, you get the training money but not the bonus. That is the ‘mission performance’ clause. If you are unable to complete the training or drop out, you get the full pay up until that time, up to two weeks before the mission. Backing out in final training reverts you to maintenance pay. Now, I’ve talked about the pay, but there’s more to this mission than money. It’s a very important…”
“Can it,” Linda said. “Appealing to my patriotic side is like appealing to my male side; it doesn’t exist.”
“Very well,” June said primly. “Then I’ll point out that the monthly pay is nearly twenty times what you make as an IS-6 and the bonus is enough to make you mildly independently wealthy. The pay rates are gauged with your point in mind. You get the money in lump at the completion of mission or it goes to your designated beneficiary. I suppose I don’t have to add that risk of loss of life on the mission is high?”
“No, that’s pretty obvious,” Linda said. “I’d guess I get to think about it.”
“Yes,” June said. “Most of the interviewees do. I’ll have you escorted to Security where you’ll be issued your initial badge, then to the transient single female quarters. There’s really nobody that you can talk to who is in support or on the mission team about the mission until you perform it, however.”
“That’s fine,” Linda said. “I just want to think about it for a bit. Where’s Mr. Keating going to be?”
“That depends on whether he agrees to perform the mission or not,” June replied. “If he does, he’ll go to permanent quarters. If not, he’ll be in the transient male quarters, which is on the top floor of the same building you’ll be in.”
“I’d like to talk to him again, whatever I decide,” Linda requested.