Operation Grendel by Daniel Schwabauer

Author:Daniel Schwabauer [Schwabauer, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9781621841623
Publisher: Enclave Publishing
Published: 2021-03-09T06:00:00+00:00

PART THREE

SLAVE TO A QUANTUM MASTER

BY CPL RAYMIN DAHL

EMBEDDED WITH MADAR TEAM TWO

11

Control

I wasn’t supposed to enlist the way I did: last day of class, alcohol in my blood stream, bleeding from a gash on the top of my head. Dad wanted me in Fleet, and I had agreed. Technically, Command and Control is merit-based. But sons of decorated officers come pre-packaged in merit, and everyone knew if I signed for officer candidate school with Fleet, my ticket to the Office of Strategic Operations would be punched immediately and without question. STRATOP was a plumb launch point, and as near a guarantee of good fortune as any colonial can have.

But it wasn’t a future I wanted, and even though I’d agreed to sign on the dotted line as soon as I earned my degree, I’d also started drifting by the recruiting kiosk at the campus student union whenever my classes ended.

Sergeant Houts was big, friendly, and had a handshake like a hydraulic press. His uniform was immaculate, and though he might have gotten more sign-ups if he’d worn a prosthetic arm, he instead chose to pin the left sleeve to the shoulder in a neatly folded rectangle.

Somehow I’d talked the sergeant into giving me a preview of the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Assessment on the morning of my last day of classes. I’d taken a couple of fake prep tests, but I wanted to see the real thing. I didn’t know if my father would pull strings to make my results fit STRATOP’s criteria, but I wouldn’t put it past him. And I wanted to know what I was actually good at.

Houts knew I wasn’t going to sign with him. He was a ground pounder, not a Fleet recruiter. He knew who my father was and probably understood better than I did the opportunities that connection afforded me. In fact, he told me I was stupid for talking to him, and anyone dumb enough to turn down a ticket to Fleet OCS was actually too stupid for the infantry.

But he sent the test to my comms anyway and witnessed my hour-long ritual completion via his own connection to AFNET.

That afternoon when classes were over I stopped by to talk about the results.

“Says you’re smarter than you look,” Houts said, his face twisted in exaggerated surprise. “High tendencies in predictive behavior, statistical analysis, communications, and contextual manipulation. Son, Fleet is gonna love you.”

“Thanks,” I said. Then, out of curiosity, I asked, “What if I don’t want to go to Fleet OCS?”

“Then you’re an idiot,” he said. “And the test I gave you is wrong. Which would make me wrong. And that is statistically impossible.”

“I mean, where would the Corps, or even the reserves, place me if I didn’t sign with Fleet?”

He gave a shrug and looked left, scanning his grid for options. “Best match is with Public Information Command. Happens to be my bailiwick. Flow of information to and from the public.”

“So it’s marketing?”

“Something like that,” he said, his back stiffening. “Marketing in all its forms is part of PIC.

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