The first part of 'Eighth Contact'
“You are here because you are supposedly Earth’s finest,” the drill sergeant said. “That is shit. You are here because you think you can …”
Martin stopped listening. He wasn’t here because of any misapprehension about being one of Earth’s finest. He was here because he had been told that it would be worth applying to be a Space Marine and to be fair, he had more experience with aliens and alien planets than nearly everyone else on Earth.
“I don’t care what you were in a former life. Now you’re just raw recruits and it is my job to ensure that you have the basic training to survive in space. Because I’ll wager a month’s salary that none of you have been beyond the orbit of Mars. You will be going beyond Mars, you will be learning how to survive …”
“A month’s wages?” Eve said. “If any of us have been beyond the orbit of Mars?”
The drill sergeant walked over to her.
Full marks for bravery, Martin thought. Perhaps she’d get away with it because she was a woman.
The drill sergeant’s nose was almost touching hers. “And how many alien planet’s have you been on deary?”
No, the drill sergeant was an equal opportunity abuser.
“The Chipmunk home planet, the Centaur home planet, the Emu home planet, the Über-slug home planet, you have to wear a breathing mask there and where else? Oh yes I remember, the Bastards’ home planet. You have to wear some heavy shit there if you want to have your head remain attached to your body.”
“And can you prove any of this?” he growled at her after a few moments.
“What would you accept as proof?” Eve asked. “And your salary or mine?”
The drill sergeant stared at her. “Mine.”
“Okay,” she said calmly. “So what would you accept as proof?”
There was some nervous shuffling of feet from the fifty assembled prospective marines. None of them had anticipated that someone would actually take the sergeant up on his offer.
“How about a sworn affidavit from an alien?” she asked.
He said nothing but just continued to stare at her.
“Okay then, I’ll organise that then,” she said calmly. “I take it we will be getting some training from some Emus?”
“And do you speak Emu?”
“No, that would be silly, we can’t make the noises. Oh one more question? Was the offer of a month’s wages for one just person or more than one? Two people, two months?”
Oh shit, she was going to involve him.
“Just one.”
“Just as well for you then, because I wasn’t alone. And someone else might want to claim the bounty.”
There was a giggle from one of the Brits and the sergeant was straight over cursing at the unfortunate woman.
Space Marine, the governments of the Earth were setting aside their differences at the prospect of getting some their citizens out into the wider galaxy as troops and the chance to find out what was really going on out there. And who knows what they might find. They would fit into the existing structure, but as their numbers grew, a human branch of the Federation forces would evolve.
Subtle hints had been dropped to Martin that if he did manage to get some alien tech back to the right people, then he would be rewarded. Eve had indicated she had been made the same offer.
The drill sergeant trained them particularly hard that afternoon and well into the evening, long after they were due to stop.
“I hope for your sake, you have been to all those planets,” Pavel said as they staggered into the mess hall.
It wasn’t the same Pavel who had been on the Gagarin mission. Apparently a lot of people assumed he was, which annoyed him.
“She has,” Martin said.
“And how do you know?”
“Because I was there as well. When she was angling for a two months wager, I was the person she was talking about.”
“And how did the two of you get to go to all these planets?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Well your friend does.”
Martin shrugged his shoulders. “Then ask her.” He hadn’t wanted to speak much about his previous trips out into the wider galaxy. He and Eve had to get along with the other forty-eight potential marines, so he didn’t want to come over as a know-it-all.
“When I collect my winnings, I’m going to take all of you out for a night on the town with it,” Eve said. “Well the ones of you who are left when I collect. I can’t think of a better way of rubbing his nose in it. No strippers though.”
“Can we hire our own strippers?” Frank asked.
Martin slept through the lecture the next day. About half of what was being said was misleading at best. He could see Eve turning in her seat getting annoyed. He’d warned her not to attract too much attention to herself.
“How many intelligent species are there in Federation space,” the lecturer asked.
Martin looked up and she was staring at him. “You don’t look you’ve been paying attention. I suppose you know it all already?”
“Eight.”
“Eight? And how do you get eight?”
“Humans, Chipmunks, Centaurs, there are two different species of Centaurs, Emus, Bastards, Über-slugs and … and the aborigines on one of the Centaur planets,” Martin replied, counting the number on his fingers. “He’d messed up, he hadn’t been paying attention but at least he had given the correct answer.
“Two Centaur species?”
“The Lilacs, so-called as they have a lilac mane as opposed to the normal orange mane. Nobody knows if they are truly separate species as they don’t interbreed due to cultural reasons.” Now that he had given the correct answer, Martin had to justify it. “So you could say seven. I suppose it depends on how you count them.” He had given the lecturer an out just in case she had been saying seven.
It was only after the lecture that he discovered the correct answer was six. The aborigines didn’t count either.
Martin stopped listening. He wasn’t here because of any misapprehension about being one of Earth’s finest. He was here because he had been told that it would be worth applying to be a Space Marine and to be fair, he had more experience with aliens and alien planets than nearly everyone else on Earth.
“I don’t care what you were in a former life. Now you’re just raw recruits and it is my job to ensure that you have the basic training to survive in space. Because I’ll wager a month’s salary that none of you have been beyond the orbit of Mars. You will be going beyond Mars, you will be learning how to survive …”
“A month’s wages?” Eve said. “If any of us have been beyond the orbit of Mars?”
The drill sergeant walked over to her.
Full marks for bravery, Martin thought. Perhaps she’d get away with it because she was a woman.
The drill sergeant’s nose was almost touching hers. “And how many alien planet’s have you been on deary?”
No, the drill sergeant was an equal opportunity abuser.
“The Chipmunk home planet, the Centaur home planet, the Emu home planet, the Über-slug home planet, you have to wear a breathing mask there and where else? Oh yes I remember, the Bastards’ home planet. You have to wear some heavy shit there if you want to have your head remain attached to your body.”
“And can you prove any of this?” he growled at her after a few moments.
“What would you accept as proof?” Eve asked. “And your salary or mine?”
The drill sergeant stared at her. “Mine.”
“Okay,” she said calmly. “So what would you accept as proof?”
There was some nervous shuffling of feet from the fifty assembled prospective marines. None of them had anticipated that someone would actually take the sergeant up on his offer.
“How about a sworn affidavit from an alien?” she asked.
He said nothing but just continued to stare at her.
“Okay then, I’ll organise that then,” she said calmly. “I take it we will be getting some training from some Emus?”
“And do you speak Emu?”
“No, that would be silly, we can’t make the noises. Oh one more question? Was the offer of a month’s wages for one just person or more than one? Two people, two months?”
Oh shit, she was going to involve him.
“Just one.”
“Just as well for you then, because I wasn’t alone. And someone else might want to claim the bounty.”
There was a giggle from one of the Brits and the sergeant was straight over cursing at the unfortunate woman.
Space Marine, the governments of the Earth were setting aside their differences at the prospect of getting some their citizens out into the wider galaxy as troops and the chance to find out what was really going on out there. And who knows what they might find. They would fit into the existing structure, but as their numbers grew, a human branch of the Federation forces would evolve.
Subtle hints had been dropped to Martin that if he did manage to get some alien tech back to the right people, then he would be rewarded. Eve had indicated she had been made the same offer.
The drill sergeant trained them particularly hard that afternoon and well into the evening, long after they were due to stop.
“I hope for your sake, you have been to all those planets,” Pavel said as they staggered into the mess hall.
It wasn’t the same Pavel who had been on the Gagarin mission. Apparently a lot of people assumed he was, which annoyed him.
“She has,” Martin said.
“And how do you know?”
“Because I was there as well. When she was angling for a two months wager, I was the person she was talking about.”
“And how did the two of you get to go to all these planets?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Well your friend does.”
Martin shrugged his shoulders. “Then ask her.” He hadn’t wanted to speak much about his previous trips out into the wider galaxy. He and Eve had to get along with the other forty-eight potential marines, so he didn’t want to come over as a know-it-all.
“When I collect my winnings, I’m going to take all of you out for a night on the town with it,” Eve said. “Well the ones of you who are left when I collect. I can’t think of a better way of rubbing his nose in it. No strippers though.”
“Can we hire our own strippers?” Frank asked.
Martin slept through the lecture the next day. About half of what was being said was misleading at best. He could see Eve turning in her seat getting annoyed. He’d warned her not to attract too much attention to herself.
“How many intelligent species are there in Federation space,” the lecturer asked.
Martin looked up and she was staring at him. “You don’t look you’ve been paying attention. I suppose you know it all already?”
“Eight.”
“Eight? And how do you get eight?”
“Humans, Chipmunks, Centaurs, there are two different species of Centaurs, Emus, Bastards, Über-slugs and … and the aborigines on one of the Centaur planets,” Martin replied, counting the number on his fingers. “He’d messed up, he hadn’t been paying attention but at least he had given the correct answer.
“Two Centaur species?”
“The Lilacs, so-called as they have a lilac mane as opposed to the normal orange mane. Nobody knows if they are truly separate species as they don’t interbreed due to cultural reasons.” Now that he had given the correct answer, Martin had to justify it. “So you could say seven. I suppose it depends on how you count them.” He had given the lecturer an out just in case she had been saying seven.
It was only after the lecture that he discovered the correct answer was six. The aborigines didn’t count either.