While we are zealously performing the duties of good citizens and soldiers, we certainly ought not to be inattentive to the higher duties of religion. To the distinguished character of Patriot, it should be our highest glory to add the more distinguished character of Christian.
George Washington
Illoia heard the alarm and began moving. She knew Tom wouldn’t take long, and they had sim first thing this morning, again. “Why do we have to be so early?” she groaned, as she reached the closet and stood there so Tom could order the bed to become a couch again.
“We have priority,” he said. “Very few couples get two shifts a day, and it is important they be as far from each other as possible, so I asked for first thing in the morning and then later afternoon. But we can shift our sleep shift around if you wish.”
“What?” she asked, pulling on her undersuit.
“While on ship we are free to choose whatever sleep shift we wish. Many of the rankers and such have already changed to Beta or Gamma shift. Sleeping when others are awake. That’s not too hard in the dorm, the privacy curtains on the bunks are very good. The married couples like to stay on Alpha shift, more socialization.”
“Oh,” Illoia said, thinking through this idea. She knew that some people, on planet, were ‘shift workers’ and had to sleep during the day when everyone else was awake. She supposed it was easier on shipboard.
“Shall we eat in the cabin, again?” she asked. “I’m enjoying our private breakfasts.”
“Sure,” Tom said, interrupting his humming. “Another privilege of being a hero: room service on a military transport. Somehow, no one told me about it before I married you.”
“I still can’t believe you like Lizard!” Ill said, flushing slightly at the compliment. She had done that research herself, more because she hated eating breakfast in public than from any desire to please her husband. Still, a compliment was a compliment. At least… she thought it was a compliment?!
“I don’t limit myself to lizard,” Tom protested. “I will eat anything made of meat. Real meat. Well, after my time in the army I will eat pretty much anything,” he admitted. “But I prefer real meat.”
Illoia had a very odd husband, she decided. What she hadn’t decided was what she thought about his oddities. One thing seemed clear, he was dedicated. She had her father to compare to, although in a different field, and this husband of hers seemed almost more dedicated, which she would have said was impossible.
They were both dressed and Illoia was busy putting their order into her comp when Tom’s comp beeped and he looked at it, and said a word that, while not technically illegal, was not proper. She frowned at him but waited until he had typed in some answer, “What was that about?” She asked.
She had meant it to be a rebuke, but, among his other oddities, her husband was hard to rebuke. Subtly, anyway. “A discipline hearing,” he said.
“Discipline? But who?”
“One of the draftee’s in my dorm.”
“Your dorm? I didn’t realize you had a dorm.”
“Well, I do, sort of. While on shipboard each leader is assigned some particular task. Mostly just for show, and for paperwork. In this case I was assigned a dorm for the purposes of discipline and good order. All I have had to do so far was post ‘good order’ instructions and visit, twice. I was going again today. I… do you mind if I do the interview while we eat?”
“No, no,” Illoia said. He was right to ask, as otherwise it would be an Article 2 violation, but she would really like to see this. She was so ignorant about military affairs.
A few seconds later the door chimed. “Come,” Tom said, and a draftee walked in, red faced and panting.
“Draftee?” Tom said, as the lad came forward and saluted awkwardly. “You have a charge to bring?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Well… what is the nature of the charge?”
“Sir! An Article 1 violation, verbal,” the lad said.
“Oh, and what was said?”
The lad turned beet red. “Sir…? How can I?”
Tom stared at the lad in silence for a minute. “Have you never participated in one of these hearings before, Son?” he asked.
“No, Sir!” the lad said. “We… our town… our fathers…”
“Oh, I see. Informal discipline, eh?”
“Yes, Sir,” the lad said, as if he was hoping that was the right answer.
“Did you try that here?” Tom asked.
“Sir? There are no fathers here… that is… the lad's father…”
“Is back on his planet. Yes. Well, that is what we use Top Rankers and even Middys for, Son. But the sim training doesn’t cover that, I suppose. Very well. So now what you do is use words, all proper words, to tell me what kind of words you are accusing the lad of saying. Did he, for example, call upon the Almighty to curse a neighbor of his because he was displeased?”
Illoia watched the lad parse these words, then brighten up, then stare off into space, “Sir, the lad did as you said, he called upon the almighty to curse… but it wasn’t a neighbor, it was the slippery floor of a fresher.”
“I see. And he performed this action in front of you alone?”
“No, Sir. There were probably twenty of us in the fresher.”
“All draftee’s?”
“I think there was one recruit, Sir.”
“But no officers?”
“No, Sir.”
“Very well. Stand over there and wait.”
The draftee moved to the corner of the room indicated and Tom fiddled again with his comp. While he was doing so the door opened and a ranker came in. This ‘waiter’ he didn’t ask, but gave Illoia her eggs… this time on toast… fruit basket and sauce. And he gave his Tom two lizards, covered with cheese and spices, and a different kind of sauce, then left without speaking. Illoia shuddered at Tom’s meal and, averting her eyes, began to eat.
The door chimed again and at Tom’s “Come” another young lad came in, another draftee. “At ease, Son,” Tom said, between bites. “Do you know why you’re here?”
The lad stood, silently and, after a few seconds, Tom shook his head. “Silence won’t work here, Son. Or, at least, not like you’re thinking. ‘You’re in the army now’, as the saying goes, and you don’t have any kind of right to silence. If I order you to talk, and you don’t, then you are violating my order. And if you don’t testify, those who judge you will have the right, indeed the duty, to take your silence into account.”
The lad frowned, then glanced at the other lad, then looked back at Tom. “Sir, I stand ready to take any punishment you may deem fit, Sir.”
“And who told you to say that, I wonder?” Tom mused. “I imagine some Middy or some Top Ranker, someone who knows the way these things work. Very well, and do you waive your Article 4 rights?”
“Sir?”
“You have offered to let me try you by myself. That is a wise move. It means that the accusation will be off the record, but there will be no trial, and no official punishment. However your punishment, if not administered by a full court, would be an article 4 violation. So in order for me to punish you, you will need to waive your Article 4 rights. Do you understand?”
“I… I think so, Sir.”
“Very well, and do you waive your rights?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Make a formal declaration, for the record,” Tom said, and the lad opened up his comp and declared, for the record, that he waived his Article 4 rights.
“Let my wife and that other draftee witness,” Tom said, and the lad took his comp over to both of them, who duly declared that they were witnesses.
“Now send me the file,” Tom said and, seconds later, that accomplished, Tom continued, “Inform your dorm to stand by to witness punishment at 1000 hours. My wife and I have sim in a few minutes.”
“Yes, Sir,” the lad said.
“You may both go,” Tom said.
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Von