Expendable - James Alan Gardner [14]
Yarrun continued. “A few hours before the Landing on Melaquin, Plebon sent me a message telling me the whole story. He was afraid he wouldn’t come back.”
“Did he?”
“The party went no-comm in less than ten minutes.”
“That’s what ‘expendable’ means.”
It was a phrase we Expendable Crew Members used among ourselves: That’s what “expendable” means. It was better than “I’m sorry to hear that” or “I understand your loss.” Those were things people said to distance themselves. And no Explorer was distant enough.
Melaquin—A Theory
“So,” I said, “your friend was sent to Melaquin with an admiral who was going senile. And here we are, with the same kind of mission. You think the Admiralty might be using Melaquin to get rid of embarrassments?”
Yarrun shrugged. “When YouthBoost fails, mental decline can be rapid. Some admirals may become children overnight…and as children, they may refuse to resign voluntarily.”
“They could be discharged with a competency hearing.”
“The press always has a field day over competency hearings,” Yarrun replied. “So do lawyers. It’s unhealthy for Fleet morale.”
“So to avoid bad publicity, the High Council assigns unwanted admirals to suicide missions? And who cares if they kill a few Explorers at the same time?”
Yarrun gave another shrug and a sigh. “That’s what ‘expendable’ means.”
Part III
PLANS
Planning (Part 1)
After a long while, Yarrun asked, “How do you want to try the Landing?”
I had been pondering the same question—self-pity could only hold my interest so long, and then training took over. “Phylar Tobit claimed Melaquin was more like Earth than Earth,” I said. “If he was right, we won’t need extreme heat or cold equipment.”
“Suppose there’s some natural phenomenon that produces bursts of extreme heat or cold.”
I shook my head. “It’s possible…but the drop-ship would be watching from orbit, and anything like that would be picked up by sensors.”
“Of course. But would they tell us?”
“What?”
Yarrun didn’t look at me. “Even if the High Council knows what is deadly about Melaquin, would they tell us? They don’t want a successful mission. They want the admiral to die.”
“Oh shit.”
“Precisely.”
A Possible Out
Harque and Prope came through a hatch halfway down the hall, saw us, nodded, and dropped their eyes. The captain asked my chest, “Is Admiral Chee still with the doctor?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that a long time for a simple examination?”
“No doubt Dr. Veresian wants to be thorough,” Yarrun answered. “One doesn’t like to misdiagnose an admiral. And this particular admiral is unlikely to be a cooperative patient.”
“True.” Prope looked at her watch. “It would still be nice to get some sleep.”
Harque produced a smarmy expression and an unctuous voice. “Perhaps, captain, you could ask the doctor to hurry things along. The examination is just a formality, after all. Isn’t it?”
He smiled more at us than at Prope, to see if we understood what he meant. We understood indeed. At least Prope had the decency to be uncomfortable that this was all a sham. She muttered, “I’ll speak to the doctor,” and entered the infirmary with Harque on her heels.
“Before the Landing, I’d like to kick Harque’s teeth out,” I said. “What could they do about it?”
Yarrun closed his eyes a moment, searching through the vast fund of regulations stored in his brain. “Maximum penalty for striking a subordinate officer is six months imprisonment, plus demotion.”
“Hmmm.” I tapped my fingers on the bulkhead behind me. “That’s a lot better than landing on Melaquin.”
Yarrun’s eyes narrowed in thought, then he shook his head. “It’s a secondary offense—punishment can be deferred if the offender has duties of overriding importance.”
“Like accompanying an admiral to his execution.”
“Mmm.”
I considered the possibilities a little longer. “Of course, punishment can’t be deferred for a primary offense.”
“No….”
“Primary offenses: treason,