In the excitement of his transfer, it wasn't until that evening in the wardroom that Brim remembered Raddisma's letter. Relaxed in a comfortable recliner, he crossed his legs and broke the elaborate crest that sealed the envelope, extracting an old-fashioned letter written on what felt like authentic parchment paper. Incredible! But then, so was Raddisma....
Dearest Wilf:
A few days ago, I discovered to my utter joy that our splendid evening together had indeed produced much more than merely a night of fleeting pleasure. I do hope you will forgive me, but following our afternoon tour of the infirmary, I decided, precipitously perhaps, that I wanted to bear your child. It was the proper time for me. And so before we departed for the Officers Club, I prepared myself to conceive. Later on, you accomplished the remainder, in a most delightful manner, I might add.
In a few Standard Months, then, you will become the father of a baby girl. Sorry, my Captain: I realize that men normally desire sons. But I desired a girl. And since the task of bearing the child falls to me, it seemed only fair that the choice should be mine as well.
Please understand, Wilf, that you bear no responsibility for this child whatsoever, except for putting me in a rare mood to make love and babies in the same night. And, of course, supplying your own juices, which I carefully, and respectfully, retained. Because the Nabob believes that the baby is his, this letter is one of joyful proclamation only—not one of obligation. All things being equal, including a war that I count on you to win, our daughter will be raised to a life of high privilege, comfort, discipline, and education. It will be as if she were a princess, without the grinding duty that rides with the title. And, of course, I shall insure that she never becomes a courtesan.
Finally, my once-and-future lover, please also know that although you bear no responsibility for this child, you are also most welcome to share as much of her life as you might desire—with the exception, obviously, of a proclaimed fatherhood. The Nabob, bless his heart, is much disposed to male heirs, and although he will love her in his own way, he will rarely remember that she exists. Therefore, at your own discretion, you may take any role with her you wish, from "nonexistent" to "favorite uncle." Over the next years, Wilf Brim, it will be interesting to discover which you choose.
Clearly, I shall be in no shape, either literally or figuratively, to entertain you during the next few months. But please be assured of two things. First: believe that I shall notify you as soon as our child is born, and second: know that we shall have other nights together if you so desire. Aside from being the father of my only child, Wilf Brim, you are a very, very special man to me.
With sincere and respectful love,
Raddisma
As the destroyer thundered out across the galaxy, Brim sat stunned for the second time in a single day, staring blindly at the stars rushing past the small Hyperscreen scuttles. When he finally corraled his galloping thoughts, they resolved themselves into two personal crises that he would need to resolve in the reasonably near future. First, he had to somehow discover if Margot Effer'wyck was still alive, because, in spite of a thousand declarations to the contrary, he still loved her—no matter what had transpired in the last few troubling years. And now, a daughter! He had some pretty unsettling thoughts about his still-unborn child—especially considering the war in which she would start her life, but he vowed he would sidestep those issues until he could at least start to resolve the first.
He shook his head and looked around the Schneider's tiny wardroom, considering such arcana as dull moments. There were times when he wished he might have a few, just so he could catch up on all the moments that weren't. And he hadn't even considered what was happening to him personally: his mysterious new assignment—and the added responsibilities that would come with that territory. Closing his eyes for a moment, he wondered seriously how well Onrad's CIGA-weakened capital would endure the savage attacks that would soon develop in the skies over Avalon.
Then he shrugged. Clearly, he would have little trouble seeing all of it firsthand—so long as he managed to stay alive....
Table of Contents
The Mercenaries
Bill Baldwin
CHAPTER 1, Bromwich, 52009
CHAPTER 2, Intrigue
CHAPTER 3, The Annex
CHAPTER 4, Showing the Flag
CHAPTER 5, The Volunteer
CHAPTER 6, Fluvanna
CHAPTER 7, Command
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9, Strike Force
CHAPTER 10, Zonga'ar
CHAPTER 11, The IVG Passes