Childhood's End

February 795 U.C.

Reinhard visited his mother the next day, borrowing Annerose’s car to drive to Wrightsville while Annerose carpooled to work with Cazerne. He wasn’t sure if he should knock on the door to his own family home for a second, and ended up just trying to open the door loudly. To his surprise, he found not just his mother waiting for him inside, but also a man he had never seen before. His mother stood from her position on the couch as soon as he came in.

“Reinhard!” she said, wrapping him in a hug for a long second. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

He stiffly accepted the hug. “I’m glad to be back, mom,” he said. “Are you doing all right?”

“Much better, now,” she said. “I won’t lecture you about it. I’m sure Annerose has already given you an earful.”

“Of course,” Reinhard said. “Have you met the kid she has in her house?”

“Julian? Sweet boy,” she said.

“I’m the last one to know everything, it seems.”

“Not everything,” his mother said. “Come here, there’s someone I’d love for you to meet.” She smiled at him. Reinhard allowed himself to be pulled further into the living room, where the man had been standing, watching him speak with his mother.

“Reinhard, this is Bishop Martine. Bishop, this is my son, Reinhard.”

“Pleasure,” Reinhard said, extending his hand. He didn’t actually think it was a pleasure to meet the bishop. He was probably in his late forties or early fifties, but his face was unusually drawn, and his black curls were streaked with grey. Martine wore a neutral expression, polite but cool, and he shook Reinhard’s hand firmly.

“I’m honored to meet our local hero,” the bishop said. His tone wasn’t quite derogatory, but he didn’t sound very honored, either.

“Please, have a seat,” Caribelle said, gesturing to the couch. Reinhard decided that he would rather sit in the armchair, rather than next to the bishop, so that was what he did, leaving him feeling very much like he was facing off against the man. His mother sat next to the bishop.

Reinhard crossed his legs and leaned his elbow on the side of the armchair, the very image of nonchalance. Still, despite his relaxed posture, he felt he had been backed into a corner here. He had no desire to lend his measure of fame to the Earth Church, and he had no idea what they could want from him aside from that. He had thought, prior to this moment, that he could trust his mother not to try to drag him into things, but it seemed clear that he could not.

“Is there a particular reason you’re here, Bishop?” Reinhard asked. “It seems like church officials often have very busy schedules.”

Martine laughed, a hollow kind of sound. Caribelle cut in before he could answer. “The bishop was a great comfort to me while you were missing, and he asked to meet you.”

“I see,” Reinhard said. “I suppose I should thank you for being there for my mother.”

“Your mother has been a great service to the church,” Martine said. “It is, of course, the nature of the church to help her members in any way possible.”

Reinhard glanced, almost involuntarily, to his side, at the large banner on the wall. “I see.”

“Just like the Earth is mother to us all, the church strives to reflect the image of our true mother, and be a mother to each of its members,” the bishop continued. “And mothers help their children.”

“I don’t disagree with that,” Reinhard said. “Though it must be difficult to be the mother to millions of children.”

“We do our best.”

“It’s true that just my two have given me no end of trouble,” Caribelle said with a smile.

“I’m not trouble,” Reinhard protested, hating feeling like his mother thought of him as young.

“Of course not,” Martine said. “In fact, I’m sure you will be of great benefit to the Alliance, once you start your real career.”

Reinhard studied him. “But doesn’t your church operate out of the Empire, as well? Isn’t it a detriment to you for the Alliance to have competent officers?”

“Earth is the mother to the entire human race,” Martine said. “The divisions of Alliance and Empire are arbitrary.”

“Something may be both arbitrary and real at the same time,” Reinhard said.

“This is true.” The bishop looked at him for a moment. “Your mother tells me that you have an interest in economics?”

“I’m not sure why that would be a subject of conversation between the two of you,” Reinhard said. “But it’s true, I do.”

“The church is not unconcerned with the world of men,” Martine said with a wan smile. “Since most of our pilgrims from the Alliance traffic through Phezzan, it would be a mistake to ignore economic realities.”

Reinhard nodded. “And what are these realities?”

“The universe has been going on in the way that it is for generations, but I think all of us know that it’s not going to keep going like this forever.”

“What do you mean?” Reinhard asked, narrowing his eyes.

“You’d be blind not to see change on the wind, Mr. von Müsel,” Martine said. “And your mother assures me that you are not.”

“You’re saying that the war is going to end?”

“One can hope that.”

“And then what are you hoping for?”

“It would be a blessing for all of humanity to once again be united under a common banner.”

“I thought that you said that the divisions between nations were arbitrary?” He was being petulant on purpose, because he didn’t like this man. He got a bad impression from him, and he resented that his mother had tricked him into having this conversation.

“Division is arbitrary, but unity is very real.”

“And what way do you want humanity to be united?” Reinhard asked.

“We are already united by so much,” Martine said. “After all, everyone who is hungry must eat.”

“It seems strange to me that you’re making such odd statements,” Reinhard said. “I could interpret this conversation badly, if I was an uncharitable man.”

“Your mother tells me that you are charitable to your friends and hard to your enemies. I would like for us to be friends.”

“I’m afraid I have no interest in religion.”

“But you have an interest in the shared destiny of humanity?”

“Anyone who does not is a fool.”

“I agree with you,” Martine said. “At its core, that is what religion is.”

“I have no idea what you want from me,” Reinhard said.

“Your mother is a capable, intelligent woman,” Martine said, which made Caribelle smile. “It is clear that her children are the same. If you were to go into politics after getting your citizenship, you would be an immediate success, I think.”

“I have no interest in trying to get elected. The idea of making promises in order to trick people into liking me is revolting.” This was perhaps the first genuine thing he had said in the conversation.

Martine smiled a little. “Of course, Mr. von Müsel. I understand that completely.”

“Then what is it that you want?”

“Want? I’m merely making an introduction to you. I think, though, that you are a rising star, and in the future it might be expedient for us to work together.”

“On what?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Martine said, voice overly nonchalant. “But I don’t think that we’re at cross purposes, you and I. If we both have our eyes on a future in which humanity is united under one banner, and we understand that the reality of that will be more challenging than the dream.”

“The problem with dreams, Bishop Martine,” Reinhard said, “is that nothing in them takes any time or effort whatsoever. And they are, by necessity, things that one wakes up from when the night is over.”

“Indeed.” Martine stood, and Reinhard and his mother both followed him up. “Your mother was right that I would like you, Mr. von Müsel. This has been a very interesting talk.” He reached inside his pocket and handed Reinhard a business card, which Reinhard glanced at, then slipped into his own pocket. “Should you ever need anything, feel free to call me.”

“I take it that would not be a favor, but a loan,” Reinhard said.

“Take it as you may,” Martine said. “But I am a capable man, and I can get many things done. I would like for us to be friends, Mr. von Müsel.”

“It’s too bad my sister isn’t here. She would tell you that I’ve always been particularly bad at making friends.”

“I would like to meet the young Ms. von Müsel as well, someday, but perhaps some other time,” the bishop said. He shook hands with Reinhard again, staring into his eyes. Reinhard was perfectly capable of staring back, though, and he was not intimidated in the least. “I’m sure I will see you again. Good afternoon.” He nodded politely, and Caribelle escorted him to the door.

When he was gone, Reinhard paced back and forth in the living room for a second, trying to stifle his anger at his mother. He didn’t want to yell at her, but he would if he couldn’t get himself under control.

“Why did you make me talk to him?” Reinhard demanded after a second. His tone was harsh, but his volume was reasonable, at least. His fists were clenched at his sides.

“Reinhard, please don’t think that I’m trying to use you for my church,” Caribelle said, passing a hand over her eyes. “I think it’s valuable for you to understand some of the forces in play, here.”

“Admiral Greenhill specifically warned me not to allow my image to be used by politicians. And you trap me here with the leader of your church.”

“You may notice that we met in my living room, rather than in his office,” Caribelle pointed out gently. “That was for your sake.”

“And because you knew I never would have gone somewhere else.”

Caribelle sighed and sat back down on the couch, clearly exhausted. Reinhard continued to pace for a second.

“What did he want from me?” Reinhard asked.

“He thinks that you’re going to be a powerful person here soon enough,” Caribelle said. “The church likes to hedge its bets, make friends with lots of people.”

“And then what do those people do for them?”

“That’s above my head.”

“And you think that I’m about to become their servant?”

“Reinhard, I think that you could make use of them, if you’re smart about it. The church itself is a tool. Everyone who’s high enough knows that. You could--”

“I have no desire to tie myself to anyone else,” Reinhard said dismissively. “I’m not the kind of person that trades favors in the dark.”

“I know,” she said. “But you should know that the opportunity is available to you. That’s all I wanted to make the introduction for.”

“What a cold-hearted reason.”

“I’m sorry that you’re angry at me.”

“I thought you wanted to see me again, not involve me in some sort of scheme.”

“I did want to see you. And I’m glad you came.”

“Yeah.” He was, unfortunately, still angry. “Have you looked at yourself, recently?” he demanded. “This is crazy.” He was staring at the banner.

“You may not believe it,” she said. “But that doesn’t make it wrong for me to believe it.”

“Fine. Let yourself be manipulated by them,” he said. “You’re an adult. I don’t care.”

“Reinhard…”

“What? You think they’re not manipulating you?”

“I participate in the church out of my own free will. And I know enough to see how it works.”

“Sure.” Reinhard looked at her. She seemed calm but tired, pale face drawn. There was an echo of Annerose in the way she looked, but there was something else there, too, something more, something different, that Reinhard had never paid attention to before. Perhaps he believed her, a little, that she had been trying to have him speak with the bishop for his sake. Still, he didn’t like being pushed around, not by anyone, not even his mother. “You might let yourself be used, but I’m not going to be.”

“We’re all tools for some higher purpose,” she said. “And I don’t think yours is at cross purposes with the church.”

Reinhard looked at her. “You’re straining the bonds of affection between us.”

She chuckled a little bit and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“You might not, but I think your bishop has his eyes on me.”

“He would have whether or not I let him in here. Perhaps-- well, no, never mind.” She shook her head.

“What?”

“I can tell you who you should really avoid. Bishop Martine isn’t a bad man, all things considered.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He was annoyed again. “I should go before one of us says something that we’ll both regret.”

“Of course,” she said. “I do love you, Reinhard.”

“I know.” He headed for the door.

September 795 U.C.

Before the summer, Reinhard had been looking forward to his last year at school. Now, though, the whole place felt stifling, worse even than high school had. People looked at him with either awe or open jealousy. Under better circumstances, he might have liked the former, but now he emphatically preferred people who felt the latter. These people were supposed to be his peers-- theoretically his equals-- and it grated to imagine that they thought themselves incapable of doing what he had done. Those who were jealous at least continued to see themselves in competition with Reinhard.

Even his professors seemed to have developed odd ways of treating him. Maybe they were expecting that Reinhard would let the whole thing go to his head and that he would expect to not do schoolwork. That wasn’t the case, though. Reinhard would have done his work well anyway, as a matter of personal pride (and desire to retain his number one spot), but he had also taken Admiral Greenhill’s warnings to heart and had no desire to misstep in his last year at the academy and lose his promised posting.

So the year began lonelier and stranger than any year had before it. The only people who still treated him normally were Fredrica, of course, and Jessica (who wasn’t even a student, but whom he saw socially fairly often).

He was looking forward to at least one thing, the practical course, where he would get to go into space again. For many of the students, it would be their first time in space, but Reinhard was intimately familiar with it, at this point.

Reinhard and Fredrica had been assigned to the same practical course, and, indeed, the same ship during the practical course-- a somewhat battered old destroyer that had been retired from active service and turned into a training vessel called the Brazil.

Before they left to begin the course, Reinhard had asked Fredrica what she thought of them being placed together, and she had given him a look. They were sitting across from each other in the dining hall, eating a late lunch after class.

“I asked for it,” she said.

“Really? I thought you didn’t want any favors.”

“I didn’t want any in my father’s name. I think I’ve earned this favor under my own merit.”

Reinhard laughed a little. “I see. And why did you want us to be put together?”

“Why do you think?”

“I have no idea.”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Obviously. But it would be more fun for you if you were commanding your own ship, wouldn’t it?”

“You’ve seen the way people treat me.”

“You would be in command, though. That's--”

“I’m just hoping that there won’t be any trouble,” Fredrica said. “And if there is trouble, I’d rather be with you.”

“You think that there will be?”

“Usually you’re the paranoid one. Maybe not. I don’t know.”

“I’m sure you could handle any problems that arise on your own.”

“Jealousy makes people do unexpected things,” Fredrica said. “And people’s opinion of me is that I’ve been just hanging on to your achievements.”

“They’re idiots, then. You should have proved them wrong by staying away from me.”

She frowned down at her plate. “Maybe.”

Reinhard backpedaled a little bit. “Not that I’m not happy that we’ll be together, of course. I’ll be glad to have you.”

She laughed a little. “I know.”

“Do you think we’ll get real postings together?” Reinhard asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m sure that we could ask for it and probably get it.”

Reinhard nodded. Although he wasn’t sure he wanted that, he wasn’t sure that he didn’t want that, either. It seemed somewhat unlikely that they would have the same post, unless they were both staff officers on some flagship, because they were going to have the same rank. It was far more likely that they would both end up as executive officers on different ships. But that was still some time away.

Because of the intense nature of the practical course, the whole senior class took it in shifts, the first three weeks devoted entirely to a crash course training in every aspect of life aboard a spaceship. The last week was devoted to playing a war game, with the students in control of a tiny group of about twenty ships, while school staff members operated a fleet of drones against them, to simulate a battle.

The first few weeks passed in an exhausting blur. The instructors did not waste a single second of time drilling the students. Even Reinhard and Fredrica, who had already been suit trained and were intimately familiar with many ship operations, found themselves working hard. It was so exhausting that the other students didn’t have energy to complain, let alone cause trouble. Everyone passed out as soon as they returned to their bunks on board their ship. Fredrica got her own room (being the only woman on board, she was put into the XO’s suite), but all the other students stayed in the bunks for the enlisted men, down in the bottom of the ship.

The intensity of it reminded Reinhard a little of what Hell Week had been like as a freshman, but he had coped with that easily, and he coped with this better. It was for the best that everyone was so exhausted, because if they hadn’t been, it would have been unpleasant to be in such close quarters. Fredrica was right that there was an undercurrent of jealousy in every interaction that he had with the other students. Reinhard double checked the seals on his spacesuit and the oxygen levels in his tanks every time they suited up, out of an abundance of caution. He didn’t think that people like his freshman year roommate Gabriel, who was also on the ship, would try to actively hurt him, but young men in close proximity with emotions running high could be almost guaranteed to behave erratically.

The last week of the course, the war games, began well. The students were split into four watch groups, with shift changes every six hours. The highest-ranked students were split across different groups to give them each a chance to take an important position. This meant that Reinhard and Fredrica were given schedules opposite each other, each acting as the ship’s captain during their six hour command shift.

After working as crew for six hours, each watch group would spend the next shift working in small groups or individually to develop tactical plans for the war games, based on information that they were given by the proctors. The proctors would then grade their plans, select a few of the best options, and present them to the next shift to execute. Fredrica and Reinhard each took command following the other’s tactical session. It pleased Reinhard when Fredrica reported that his plan was being used, which happened several times. (“Of course I could tell it was yours; it was the only one that looked like it had a reasonable chance of working.”) He also ended up putting several of Fredrica’s plans into action during his work shift, which pleased him as well.

The other two six-hour shifts were downtime. Although theoretically, those who were off duty were supposed to be in either the meeting rooms, the dining hall, the sleeping quarters, or the rec rooms, in reality the barriers were permeable. Reinhard had already spent some time during the previous week becoming familiar with the nooks and crannies of the ship, and he wandered now, careful not to get caught. He liked the feeling of not being observed.

It was during one of these wanderings, on the penultimate day of their practical course, that Reinhard noticed that something was wrong. He had slipped out of the rec room and made his way down the hallway towards the sleeping quarters, but had then turned down one of the cross-hallways of the ship, the one that would take him towards the engine room, his intention being there to use the computers there to watch what was happening on the bridge, whatever Fredrica was up to. He had thought that no one had seen him go, but perhaps people had been watching where he went, because after some quiet walking, he heard footsteps behind him. They weren’t being obvious, which made it even less likely that this was someone going about their routine business.

Reinhard tried to not make it apparent that he knew he was being followed, but he turned away from where he had been intending to go and instead made a wide loop, moving towards the front of the ship. This had apparently been the wrong thing to do, because his pursuers sped up and became slightly more obvious. Reinhard had no desire to get caught, so he consulted his mental map of the ship, turned the next corner, walked as quickly as he could without running down the hall, then found a closet with a symbol of a ladder underneath its door label, one of the emergency access passageways. He got in the closet and jumped upwards, grabbing the ladder that began slightly out of reach, then hauled himself upwards in the narrow closet, kicking against the side of the wall when he needed to grab the next rung. At the top of the ladder, he shoved the hatch open hard with his shoulder, ending up in a closet one floor above. He shut the hatch and exited the closet, finding himself in an empty hallway on the ship’s fourth platform.

Still not wanting to be caught by whoever was chasing him, and now definitely out of bounds, Reinhard jogged back down the ship, headed now towards the shuttle bay near the rear. He made it there without incident, but then he heard something that surprised and alarmed him, the ship’s PA system crackled to life, Fredrica’s voice saying, “This is acting captain Greenhill-- the ship is entering a restricted movement alert level one. Remain where you are until the alert has been lifted. I repeat, we are under a restricted movement alert level one. Remain where you are.”

Reinhard mentally apologized to Fredrica as he disobeyed the order and finished his jog towards the shuttle bay. He wouldn’t be able to launch a shuttle (only the academy staff overseeing the exercize had the ability to allow shuttles to launch), but he could certainly climb inside one and flip on the radio to hear the chatter. Perhaps this was part of the simulation.

Reinhard climbed into one of the open shuttles and sat in the pilot’s seat, leaving the door open. He flipped on the interior lights and fiddled with the radio, tuning to the standard frequency that was being used during the simulation. He heard the other ships talking to each other, though not the familiar voice of Fredrica’s watch’s communications officer.

From what he could hear over the radio, the battle situation was proceeding normally, which was good.

Reinhard heard the sound of someone running outside the shuttle bay. So, there was someone else disobeying the restricted movement order. The shuttle bay door opened.

Reinhard thought about turning off the radio and hiding for a second, but then immediately dismissed that thought as cowardly. Instead, he exited the shuttle, leaning nonchalantly against the side of it, looking down the boarding stairs at the intruder.

He recognized the man who had come in, a surly young man with shaved black hair whose name was Maynard Barton, and who had been friends with Reinhard’s roommate Gabriel during their freshman year. Reinhard had always disregarded him as somewhat incompetent, at the very least for his poor choice of friends. He was aware, however, that Barton was in Fredrica’s watchgroup, so it was quite unusual that he was running around in the shuttle room, rather than manning one of the stations.

“What are you doing out here, Barton?” Reinhard called down to him.

Barton was surprised, and looked up at him. “I could ask the same thing of you.”

“I thought I’d have a nice evening trying to pick up some music from Radio Heinessen,” Reinhard said. “It’s as good of an excuse as any.”

“Doesn’t sound like music.”

“And this doesn’t look like your watch assignment.”

“I was actually looking for you.”

“On whose account?”

“I don’t think that matters.”

“It doesn’t?” Reinhard asked.

“No, I don’t think it does.”

“Well, you’ve found me.” Reinhard said. He spread his arms a little, as if inviting the boy below him to come up and grab him. “What do you intend to do with me?”

“I intend to keep you here.”

“It certainly is a good thing I was intending to obey the restricted movement order anyway, isn’t it?” Reinhard said. “But it makes me curious: why would you need to stop me from going anywhere?” He knew he wasn’t going to like the answer, but he wanted to get it out of Barton anyway before he rid himself of the problem. Reinhard had already been looking around the shuttle bay, eyes scanning for anything that could be used as a weapon in a fight, though he thought that he could take the other boy bare-handed if he had to.

“I was just told to keep you away from the bridge.”

“And what’s happening on the bridge?”

“Nothing of your concern.”

“I feel like, since you’ve gone to such special efforts to make it my concern, I have a right to know.”

“And what would you do with that information?”

“That entirely depends on what the information is, isn’t it?” Reinhard felt the other boy was stalling for time. “I mean, really, you telling me to stay away from the bridge makes me want to go there even more.”

Barton stiffened. “I won’t let you.”

“You really want to try to stop me?” Reinhard asked.

“You think you’re special,” Barton said. “You’re not.”

“Oh? You think you could do what Greenhill and I did? I’d like to see you try.”

Barton laughed. “That’s exactly what we’re doing, genius.”

“Mutiny, then,” Reinhard said. “Not particularly honorable of you.”

“It’s not mutiny, it’s--” But Barton didn’t have time to finish his sentence before Reinhard leapt off the shuttle boarding stairs in one acrobatic movement and landed down in front of Barton, already swinging a punch at the other boy’s face. He hit, and Barton’s head snapped sideways as he stumbled backwards.

Reinhard advanced, backing Barton towards the wall, not allowing him a chance to fully recover before he punched him again, this time in the stomach. Barton doubled over, but then he kept his head down and charged at Reinhard, who stepped out of the way and slammed his hands down on Barton’s spine as he ran forward. Barton toppled to the ground, putting out his hands to break his fall. Reinhard aimed a kick at his elbow, and when it connected, Barton’s left arm twisted in a completely unnatural way and he yelled out in pain.

Reinhard was in the process of grabbing the emergency fire hose from the wall when the PA system came to life once again. “Attention: this ship is now under restricted movement level three. Clear all firebreaks.” Fredrica’s voice sounded slightly tense, now, but since she still had control of the ship enough to activate the order to seal all of the emergency doors, Reinhard wasn’t that worried about her physical safety.

Reinhard grabbed the fire hose, ignoring the sound of the emergency doors slamming shut throughout the ship, an odd, echoing metal-on-metal sound. He turned to Barton, who was laying on the ground. “Are you done?”

Barton scrambled to his feet, clutching his arm to his chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked.

“I’m not the one attempting to take over the ship,” Reinhard said. “I’ll ask again: are you done?”

“Yeah. Fuck. I’m done.” Barton scowled at him.

“Get in the shuttle,” Reinhard said.

“What? Why?”

“I’m going to tie you to the seat.” When Barton didn’t move, Reinhard stared him down for a long second, and then finally the other boy winced and broke and walked up the clattering metal stairs to get into the shuttle.

Reinhard tied the sullen boy to the chair. “I don’t advise you attempt to leave the shuttle,” Reinhard said.

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll find yourself in a vacuum,” Reinhard said. “You’ll be perfectly safe in there, but I don’t want you to come out and bother me.”

Biting remarks clearly were dancing on the tip of Barton’s tongue, but he held them in, which was for the best. Reinhard didn’t have the patience for him. He left the shuttle and shut it, making sure that it was fully sealed. He didn’t want to accidentally kill Barton, after all. That would be far more trouble than it was worth. Then Reinhard retrieved a space suit from the supply closet and suited up as quickly as possible. He made sure to pick one with a functioning suit radio.

Once that was done, Reinhard stepped into the shuttle bay control room airlock, then into the control room, and began the procedure to evacuate the air from the large room, so that the shuttles could launch.

There was a radio set in there, too, and he flipped it on, listening for the chatter. There was no talk over the radio, but there wasn’t any of the static hiss characteristic of EM jamming, either. Reinhard listened for a while as the shuttle room cleared out. When he hadn’t heard anything after a long time, he decided that it was time to find out what was going on himself. He could at least ask. He flipped the communications mode to the ship’s internal communication system and hailed the bridge.

“Acting Captain Greenhill,” Reinhard said, trying to keep his voice somewhere between professional and mildly amused. He didn’t think that Fredrica was actually in danger, so he was less worried than he could be. “This is off-duty Cadet von Müsel. I’ve become aware that you may be experiencing some difficulties up on the bridge. Do you require any assistance?”

There was a long moment of silence, then Fredrica’s voice came over the radio. “The situation is under control, Cadet,” she said, though her voice sounded strained. “And I’m not sure what assistance you could provide.”

“I could make my way to the bridge.”

“With all the doors shut?”

“I’m suited up and near an airlock.”

“Reminder, Cadet, that we are under a restricted movement level three. Remain where you are.” But through the strain in Fredrica’s voice, she sounded both grateful and amused, which was enough for Reinhard.

“Acknowledged. Let me know if you need anything, or if the situation changes. Oh, and, by the way, when the restricted movement ends-- Cadet Barton, who is with me, will require treatment in the infirmary. This is not a medical emergency.”

“Thank you for the notice,” she said, though she was mildly grumpy, now.

Reinhard stopped talking and let the radio return to silence. He was tempted to go out anyway, find out what the actual situation was, try to help, but Fredrica did seem to have everything under control, and he didn’t want to cause any more trouble for her.

It was a tedious wait inside the control room. When the radio silence broke, Reinhard learned that their ship was about to be boarded by the academy staff who had been overseeing the exercise from the other ships. The “mutiny” was over quite quickly, without Fredrica ever losing control of the ship. The whole thing was beyond stupid, though if he admitted it to himself, Reinhard felt more annoyed at not getting to do anything to help than he had been about the situation happening in the first place.

Before the overseeing staff made their way through the whole ship, Reinhard somewhat reluctantly re-flooded the shuttle bay with air so that someone would be able to take Barton to the infirmary. He looked through the control room window at Barton sitting in the shuttle sullenly. There wasn’t any satisfaction in looking at him.

Announcements were made over the ship’s PA system, first by Fredrica, then by one of the staff members who had apparently made it to the bridge, explaining that the ship was going to be searched room by room and that all students would remain confined to quarters until they arrived back on Heinessen.

When a pair of staff members finally came to find Reinhard and Barton in the shuttle bay, one of them quickly escorted Reinhard away while they untied the other boy. To his surprise, they did not return to the bunks where he had been staying, and was instead brought up to the second platform, where he was let into the quarters where the security officer usually lived. Conveniently, they were right next door to Fredrica’s quarters. Reinhard raised an eyebrow at this.

“Cadet Greenhill rightfully pointed out that it would be a security risk to have you return to the same quarters as the other cadets,” the staff member said. “Please remain here.”

“A security risk to whom?” Reinhard asked. “I have no intention of making trouble.”

“Please remain here, regardless.”

Reinhard did, laying on the bed after divesting himself of the spacesuit that he had still been wearing. He was very bored, and he was annoyed at the attempted mutineers for ruining the last few days of the practical course, which he had been enjoying more than he had his regular classes.

After some time, there was a knock on the door. Reinhard sat up. “Come in.”

It was Fredrica, who looked tired but generally happy. She sat down at his desk chair.

“I thought we were all being confined to quarters,” Reinhard said. “You have permission to walk around?”

“They don’t have enough guards to post one outside our doors,” Fredrica said.

“Poor planning.”

“I don’t think anyone expected to need to treat the entire student population of the ship like prisoners.”

“It is an extremely stupid thing. I’m sorry that you turned out to be right.”

“I’m very prescient,” Fredrica said. “It is what it is.”

“I see you dealt with the mutiny in short order.”

“It was a bit of trouble, but it didn’t actually get very far.”

“What happened?”

“They cut the radio and ansible transmit first, but they didn’t cut the receive, so at first I didn’t realize anything was wrong. Then they tried to take the bridge.”

“How many?”

“Five, at first, and we dealt with that. That was when I went to restricted movement one.”

“What made you go to three?”

“Finding out the radio was cut, and then I saw on the security cameras that about fifteen of them were still disobeying the restricted movement order, so I shut the doors. I thought it was going to be a bigger problem than it was.”

“Did anyone else get onto the bridge?”

“No,” she said, laughing a little. “Since they didn’t have control of engineering where they could force the doors open again, closing the doors was very effective. And then I just used the light signal to send an emergency message to the other ships. It was very stupid.”

“I’m glad you were able to take care of it.”

“I’m glad you didn’t get hurt, either.”

“Of course I didn’t.”

“What were you up to?”

“I was taking a walk,” Reinhard said. He leaned on the wall, crossing his legs. “People were apparently under the impression that I would be an obstacle to their mutiny.”

“And were you?”

“You said you were handling it, so I only had to deal with my personal problem.”

“Thank you for believing me. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”

“I might still,” Reinhard said. “I think I broke Barton’s arm.”

Fredrica winced. “It was his fault.”

“I technically swung first.”

“Extenuating circumstances.”

“And I was already out of bounds.”

“If they punish you for this, I’ll yell at somebody on your behalf.”

Reinhard smiled. “Thanks.”

She sort of sighed and looked away. “This whole thing feels so pointless.”

“Were you enjoying the practical course?”

“Yeah, I was, honestly. I’m angry that people had to go and ruin it over nothing.”

“You should think of this as being good for you,” Reinhard pointed out. “This proves that you are capable by yourself.”

This made Fredrica scowl. “For one thing, I didn’t feel like I needed to prove that to anyone.”

“But people clearly needed it proved to them. Maybe it’s better that this happened, rather than something else, later.”

“I guess.” She was still frowning. “But this doesn’t even prove anything. They were just being stupid, and they accomplished nothing. Ugh.”

“Maybe you should just accept that you come off looking good in this situation, and make the best of it that way.”

“Fine.”

“Are you really that upset about it?”

“It feels dirty to benefit from other people’s stupidity, and it feels like a waste.”

Reinhard shrugged.

“You don’t think so?” Fredrica asked.

“There’s always going to be people like that,” Reinhard said. “You don’t need to feel guilty about them. It’s good to add to your own reputation. It will help you with your goals in the future.”

“What goals?” Fredrica asked.

Reinhard gave her a hard look. “You told me you wanted to follow in your father’s footsteps.”

“That’s not a goal.”

“What is then? You don’t think that you could be an admiral someday?”

“There are no women who become admirals,” she said. “The best I could hope is to leave the fleet and become a politician.”

Reinhard scowled. “Don’t do that. You could be the first. Or Annerose could be the first, and you could be the second.”

“What makes you think that I could?”

“I wouldn’t be your friend if you didn’t have talent.”

“Talent isn’t everything.”

“It should be.” He paused. “It will be.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to lie and say that I don’t have goals.”

“What are they, then?”

“I want to destroy the Goldenbaum dynasty,” Reinhard said. “That means that I first have to gain power here. I’m going to climb as fast and as high as possible. And when I get to the top, I will make sure that talent is the only thing that matters. Not name or anything else.”

“Why?”

“Because if you aren’t the one making decisions, then you’re subject to the decisions of others. And I think you just had a very good example of what other people can be like. The whole system is full of rotten people. People who don’t deserve respect.”

“You’re saying it’s not your personal pride that makes you want to climb?” she asked, half laughing at him.

“It’s rude of you to make fun of me.” He was used to Fredrica pushing his buttons, but she did know exactly which of his buttons to push.

“I’m not!” But she was smiling. “I think it’s fine. It’s true that-- no, I shouldn’t say that because it’ll go to your head.”

“Say it,” he insisted.

“You’d do a better job as a leader than most other people, so it’s to everyone’s benefit if you do climb.”

“Obviously.”

“Oh, I see it’s already gone to your head, even if I didn’t say anything.”

“You are lucky that I put up with you.”

“I don’t know what you’d do without me.”

Reinhard shook his head. “I guess we’re going to find out, soon enough.”

“I hate the idea of going someplace separate.”

“You want to stay with me?”

“We trust each other. I think that’s more than you could say for most other people.”

Reinhard nodded. “Am I wrong on that count?”

“It’s a matter of opinion. But I think you will have a harder time accomplishing what you want if you don’t have allies.”

“So you support my goals?”

She thought about it for a long second. “Yeah. I do.”

“Good.” He had assumed that she did, but it was nice to have confirmation. “We’ll work together, then.”

“That’s no different than what we have been doing.”

“You don’t want to make it official?”

“What, you want me to swear loyalty to you?” Fredrica asked.

Reinhard offered her his hand. “Will you?”

“I will not.”

He was surprised, and his hand wavered in the air. “Why not?”

“Because we’re friends, not…” She waved her hand vaguely. “Whatever that is. You don’t need me to say that I swear my loyalty to you. You should already…” Fredrica sighed a little when she saw the confusion written on Reinhard’s face. She grabbed his hand anyway. “Don’t be stupid,” she said.

He didn’t know how to feel about that. Perhaps he should have been unhappy, perhaps he should stop trusting her, perhaps he should tell her to leave his room. “Are you saying this because you don’t want to make promises that you can’t keep?”

“I’m saying it because it’s not a thing that needs to be promised. You don’t have to atomize people into what they can do for you.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

“No?” She squeezed his hand, then let go. Reinhard let it drop to his lap. He frowned at her for a second, but she was smiling. “We’re friends. There’s no way to say what friendship will demand in the future, so there’s no sense in putting it into words now.”

Reinhard bit his finger for a second. “‘It’s an impoverished love that makes such demands,’” he said finally.

“What?”

“Something I said to Annerose, a long time ago. You’re right.”

She nodded. “I’m always right.”

“Now you’re the one who’s letting things go to your head.” He smiled, then, when she laughed at him.

December 795 U.C.

“You shouldn’t have flown all the way down here for this,” Reinhard said to Annerose as they sat across from each other in a restaurant near the academy. The place was filled to the brim with kitschy neon lights that buzzed and hummed on the walls. Reinhard had never been here before, but Annerose said she liked it, so he had agreed. “I’m sure Julian misses you.”

“He can handle staying with mom for a few days,” Annerose said. “I wanted to see you graduate. Is that illegal?”

“No, of course not,” Reinhard said. “I’m glad you’re here. It just seems unnecessary.”

“I’ll decide what is necessary for myself, thank you,” Annerose said. “Besides, I wasn’t sure if I would get another chance to see you before you went off on your assignment. Who knows when we’ll be in the same place at the same time again.”

“I’m sure we will find some way to meet up.”

“Maybe,” Annerose said. She looked at him contemplatively. “I can’t believe you’re done with school.”

“I can.”

“You’ll have to forgive me for not wanting you to be completely grown up.”

“I’m afraid that I can’t stop the passage of time,” Reinhard said. “Not even for you.”

She laughed. “Would you stay a baby for me, if you could and I asked you to?”

“I don’t think you really want that. You’re just consumed by nostalgia.”

“You’re right,” she said with a sigh. “It’s good that you’re done with school.”

“You aren’t happy, though.”

“How could I want you to grow up and go somewhere where I can’t protect you?”

“You know I can protect myself. And I could say the same thing to you.”

“About that,” Annerose said.

“What about it?”

“My transfer is going through.”

Reinhard tried to stop the frown that crossed his face, but he didn’t quite succeed. “To the Rosen Ritter?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m being assigned as a staff officer to the regiment.”

“With Schenkopp as the regimental commander?”

“Yes, it’s official.”

“Isn’t there a conflict of interest there?”

“No,” Annerose said, flushing hotly and completely failing to look sincere. “There’s nothing between us anymore.”

Reinhard frowned. “Do what you want.”

Their conversation was interrupted as the waitress came over to take their order. When she left, Reinhard said, “There’s something that I’ve been thinking about a lot.”

“What?”

His hand found his locket underneath his shirt, twisted the end of it around a little. “Maybe I shouldn’t even mention it to you.”

“You already have, so I don’t know what the delay is.”

“When I was on Condor Base, I overheard the commodore talking to someone.”

“Oh?”

“He was on an ansible call with someone on Odin, a teacher, probably at their military academy.”

“Is this military information that you should have told someone else earlier?” Annerose asked.

“No. Will you just listen?”

“You’re the one drawing this out.”

“He was talking to someone named Leigh something-- I didn’t get a first name. While they were talking-- not about anything useful, just gossiping about members of the imperial admiralty-- someone came into the room on the other side of the call.”

Annerose narrowed her eyes. “And?”

“Leigh introduced him as one of his students, Kircheis.”

“Reinhard…” Annerose said, and for the first time that they had ever discussed the matter of Kircheis, there was pity in her voice rather than blatant discomfort. “It’s not likely that it was him.”

“I heard his voice.”

“Over an ansible-- the sound isn’t very clear.”

“Can you just trust me? I know him.”

“After almost ten years?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“Because Leigh said that he was going to send Kircheis to one of two commanders, either Reuenthal, who was on Condor Base, or Mittermeyer, who I don’t know anything about. So all I’m saying is--”

“You want me to keep an eye out?”

Reinhard’s fingers clenched on his locket. “I don’t know. I’m just giving you all the information I have.” He paused. “I’d want you to be careful if you meet Commodore Reuenthal, anyway. He seems dangerous.”

“My goal is to be careful around all imperial soldiers,” Annerose said. “But I will keep that in mind.”

Reinhard nodded. “Thank you.”

“I don’t know what you’re thanking me for.”

“You’re less upset with me than you have been.”

“Maybe I’ve grown up, too.”

“You’ve always been two steps ahead of me, in that respect.”

“You’ve put me on a pedestal that feels very easy to fall off of,” Annerose said. “It worries me that you think I’m something to live up to, because I’ve spent my whole life looking forward to the day that you run past me.” When she saw Reinhard frown, she added, “You will.”

The waitress returned with their food, again interrupting the conversation. They ate in silence for a few minutes, each occasionally looking across at the other, trying to discern what their sibling was thinking. It was harder, now that they had spent so much of the last few years apart, but there would always be a connection between them, Reinhard thought, one that was stronger than almost anything else in the world.

“Are you worried about the future?” Reinhard asked, after a while. “Do you think that you’re not going to succeed in it?”

“My goal has always been to help you succeed,” Annerose said. “And I think you’re well on your way to that. I can’t help but be nervous for your safety, but I’m not worried about the future, no.”

“You know something funny?” Reinhard asked, his tone not really amused, and more melancholy.

“What?” Annerose asked.

“A while ago, I wanted Fredrica to swear that we would help each other, and I was unhappy when she refused. Now, when you’re telling me that all you do, you do for me with no preconditions, that also doesn’t seem right.”

Annerose laughed. “Reinhard…”

“Don’t laugh at me,” he huffed.

“Fredrica and I are both very different people, and I don’t know if there’s anybody in this universe who could say something to completely satisfy you.” She glanced at Reinhard’s hand, still fiddling with his locket. “Well, maybe.” She sighed a little, and took a sip of her milkshake.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know.” She looked over at him. He met her eyes, feeling very odd. “You know, Reinhard, I love you regardless of what you do or accomplish. You don’t need to earn it.”

“I know,” he said, scowling. He thought it was an odd thing for her to say, and he couldn’t help but reject it. He would earn it, regardless.

“I hope you do know it.”

“Are you afraid that I’ll stop loving you if you don’t do things for me?” Reinhard asked suddenly, leaning forward over the table. “I won’t, I promise I won’t.”

“Of course not!” Annerose was startled by his intensity and leaned back a little. “You might be annoyed at me, but that’s not the same.”

“Then why do you say that your goal is only to help me succeed?” Reinhard asked.

“Because I want you to be happy,” she said. “And that’s the way I can help you to be.”

“But what about you?”

“You’re concerned with my personal wants all of a sudden?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “You were just scowling when I mentioned Walter a minute ago.”

Reinhard sat up straight again. “I can’t win.”

“It’s not a battle.” She smiled. “Besides, I think you’d like him better now than you did years ago.”

“Maybe.” He was noncommittal.

“I think you have to trust me when I say that I know what I want, and I know what will make me happy. I try to trust you in the same way.”

“I can’t help feeling like I want to protect you,” Reinhard said.

“I can understand. It’s not as though I don’t feel the same. But protecting me from what I want or don’t want isn’t going to solve anything.”

“Is there something that needs to be solved?”

“No, I don’t think so.” She laughed a little. “You’re being unusually thoughtful today.”

“The nostalgia has me in its grip as well, I think.”

“You are something of the nostalgic type,” she said, glancing at his locket, which had migrated outside his shirt with the force of his fiddling.

He frowned again. “Do you permit me my weaknesses?”

“In terms of weaknesses, that one is very small,” Annerose said. “It’s unlikely to get you hurt.”

“Perhaps.”

Annerose sighed again as she looked at him, wiping her hands delicately on her napkin. “I should give this back to you,” she said, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out the box that contained the pin that Admiral Greenhill had given him. “Since it will be official very soon.”

“Thanks for holding it for me,” he said. “Shall we go?”

“Sure.” She paid for their food, and then the two of them headed out, into the bright afternoon sunlight.

They stood there in front of the restaurant for a moment, not quite a matching pair any longer. “Every time I see you I’m surprised at how tall you are,” she said. “I can forget while you’re sitting down, but when you stand up, it’s a whole different matter.”

“I’d tell you I tried to stay short for your sake, but it would be a lie,” Reinhard said.

“Will you be mad if I cry during your graduation speech?” she asked.

“Why would I be mad at that?”

“Because I’d be making a fool of myself in public.”

“Since you allow me my weaknesses, I’ll allow you yours,” Reinhard said with a smile. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and they headed off down the street. “We can waste our time feeling nostalgic and sentimental now. Get it out of our systems, since we won’t have time later.”

“No room for nostalgia when you’re on a ship on the front lines?” Annerose asked.

“Seems like a dangerous distraction.”

“I’m afraid it’s unlikely that I’ll be able to put you entirely from my mind when I’m out and about,” Annerose said.

Although that was a worrying thought, Reinhard couldn’t help but feel slightly pleased. “I’ll admit that I spent quite a lot of time thinking about you while I was trapped on the Falke with Fredrica.”

Annerose smiled. “We spent a lot of time thinking about each other then, that’s for sure.”

“Hah. I don't want you to have to worry about me.”

“I can’t help it. It’s my job.” They arrived in front of the academy’s gates, where they both stopped. “I’ll see you at graduation tomorrow,” Annerose said.

“Say hi to Jessica for me,” Reinhard said. Annerose was staying at her house during her visit.

“I will.” She paused for a moment and looked him over one last time, his hair catching in the sun, almost blinding in its intensity. “It’s like I’m looking at you now, and you’re just my brother, but tomorrow you’ll be something else entirely.”

He smiled. “You’re being silly now.”

“I’m just trying to keep you somewhere where I can still reach. But I know that’s impossible.” She ran her hand down his arm, as though reassuring herself that he was there and real. Reinhard smiled, trying to cheer her up, though her voice and the corners of her eyes indicated that she was close to tears. “There’s nothing that will stand in your way.”

“I’ll still be me, and you’ll still be you. No matter what, that won’t change.”

“Not even when you have everything you want?”

“What I want involves making you happy, too,” Reinhard reassured her.

Annerose hugged him again. “I know. I know.”