0300 Book 2 - 15. Chapter 15: Senior Chiefs (The Real Power)

Chapter 15: Senior Chiefs (The Real Power)

Will and his team figured out how the veil worked. It was not, as I had once told Admiral Davis, involuntary. It was more subconscious, and automatic, like breathing. But, just as we could control our breathing when we thought about it, we learned to control the veil. As soon as we figured that out, we started revealing ourselves to more people.

I invited the captain of the Honolulu, the second battleship in the task force, and two members of his staff to visit. Danny and George, and Captain Moultrie escorted them to the conference room where I waited with Artie and Corey. Before the Honolulu crew walked in, I shut down the veil. I don’t think they caught on, though until Captain Moultrie made the introductions.

“Gentlemen, this is Captain Fairburn; his XO, Commander Allen; and Ship’s Senior Chief Jones of the Honolulu. This is Captain Corey Long, Colonel Artie Stewart, and Commodore Paul Stewart.” (I was liking Captain Moultrie a lot: he had a twinkle in his eye when he made the introductions, and was as anxious as I was to see what the men’s reaction would be.)

The men’s eyes swept from a 14-year-old to an 18-year-old to a 20-year-old. Commander Allen opened his mouth, but quickly shut it. Captain Fairburn accepted Corey’s handshake, then Artie’s, and then mine.

“Captain Fairburn, I’m glad for this opportunity to meet,” I said.

“Thank you, Commodore.” He then came straight to the point. “You must understand that I’m a little surprised. Your bio and official photo suggest you’re quite a bit older than you appear.”

He’s taking it well, I thought. No need, yet, to push. “The photo and some of the earliest dates in the bio have been altered; everything else is accurate including schools and service.

“You’ve met my son, Artie, the Colonel in Chief of the California Liberation Army; let me introduce two of my other sons, Ensign Danny Stewart and Ensign George Rogers-Stewart.”

I probably shouldn’t have hit Captain Fairburn with quite so much. Danny and George had dropped their veil, and were revealed as 14-year-olds under arms; heavy arms.

It took the captain several moments to get his thoughts together. He was quite diplomatic. “I understand that Colonel Stewart is your son by adoption.”

I answered his unspoken question. “As are Danny and George, and the two boys Artie and Danny took as brothers in the funeral.” We never had to say what funeral we were talking about. Just the funeral without any other qualifier was enough.

Captain Fairburn nodded. He didn’t offer to shake hands with the boys, since they were on duty. “Pleased to meet you, boys. My son, who is also a George, and his boyfriend Ollie are serving on the Adelaide with Ollie’s dad. They’re about your apparent age. I hope you’ll have a chance to meet them.”

Apparent age. Yeah, I caught that. “Danny and George are 14. I’m 20, although Admiral Davis says I look only 18.”

“What can you tell us, sir?” That was the Senior Chief. Gutsy, I thought.

“Quite a bit, Chief, but not without coffee,” I said. I read him correctly. He appreciated a good cup of coffee, and the flag mess had the best.

When coffee had been served, I started answering their questions, including the unspoken ones.

“We . . . Danny, George, a few others, and I . . . have been a secret for some years. Admiral Davis instructed me to let key people in on that secret. And, I stress, secret. What you learn about us is classified Cosmic Top Secret, with a strict need-to-know.

“A lot of people fear things they don’t understand. Whatever genetic change that gave us our talents also gave us a mental screen that made people ignore us entirely, or overlook or forget when we did something unexpected—like being promoted to commodore at age 20.”

“We’re human; it’s just that we’re on the edge of standard normal distribution when it comes to IQ, reflexes, and strength. Some folks have thought we might be aliens, perhaps come through a rift. Danny was born in Seattle, Washington. George is from Waycross, Georgia. I was born in Valentine, Texas.

Valentine, Texas triggered a memory. “Your father, he was Commander Alexander Stewart,” the chief said. “I was a 15-year-old Seaman Apprentice on his ship. He gave me my first real position. He put me on the helm. You look just like him.”

How can I say how I felt at that moment? The chief was the first person I’d ever met who had known my father—a man I’d never met except in an imaginary world once created by Tobor.

“I never knew my father, Chief. He died two months before I was born.”

The chief caught my meaning, and my yearning, and spent fifteen minutes or so telling me stories about my dad, about the chief as a 16-year-old Able Bodied Seaman in the battle of Novosibirsk, and about my father’s death. I had to struggle not to show my tears.

The chief’s stories and his affirmation were enough that I didn’t have to push the captain or his exec. I felt their understanding and acceptance. Danny and George said they’d invite Captain Fairburn’s son and his boyfriend to visit. The meeting was cordial and fruitful.

Revealing ourselves (so far, just Danny, George, and me) got easier after that, especially when the chief put out the word through the Senior-Chief-old-boy network that he’d served with my father, and that I was a chip off the old block.

The Flag Bridge was quiet. Jonathan worked his console, tracking and routing messages, including those to and from George and his “press gang.” Avery was working Fleet supply points for the ever-increasing demand for communicators (with the Tobor chip), weapons, iPads, and pizza. Jonathan hit his enter key, stood, and walked to the fridge. He took out a lemonade and stood for a moment. Avery left his console and walked to the fridge. “That looks good,” he said. “My throat’s dry.”

I felt Jonathan’s nervousness. (Yes, I was monitoring. Being a good commander, I pushed a little reassurance.)

“Uh, yeah,” Jonathan said. He was closer to the fridge, so he reached in and handed a lemonade to Avery.

“Humidity always seems low onboard ship—every ship I’ve been on,” Avery said.

“What ships?” Jonathan asked. “I mean, what ships have you served on?”

“Well, I’d been on the Hope for only a week, so that probably doesn’t count. Before that, on the Zabiskie … ”

“That was the cis-Mercury expedition!” Jonathan said. “You were on that?”

“Yeah. Fleet fooled me, good. I thought I was going to get assigned with my dad to a supply tender running back and forth to the Venus terraforming fleet. The captain of the Zabiskie wasn’t sure what to do with me, so he assigned me to be a runner for the chief scientist. Pretty soon, I was helping him with his studies, and got my name on one of his papers as a principal co-researcher.”

Jonathan radiated wow and cool. I sent, now’s the time to ask. He picked up on it. “Hey, tonight, in the rec center, there’s a virtual-reality shuttle orienteering competition? It takes two. I’ve signed up, but I need a partner? Would you . . . ? You can be the pilot if you want.”

Avery took a moment, perhaps he was just startled by the change of subject. “Sure. What time?”

“1700.”

I sent a don’t quit, now. Jonathan picked up on it, and asked, “Um, maybe, after, um, we could have a pizza or something?”

“Like a date?” Avery asked.

Jonathan blushed. “Um, yeah, kinda, if you don’t think I’m too young or anything.”

Avery smiled. “I’d like that. See you about 1630 in the rec center, to plan strategy?”

Jonathan nodded. “Yeah! Uh, thanks.”

There were 10 teams, and their progress and scores were displayed on screens above the VR simulators. I sat with several of the guys and watched. Besides Jonathan and Avery, there were two other teams from the Flag Team: Kevin and Casey; and Bobby and Alberto, the youngsters. The computer and judges made sure there was real competition. Kevin and Casey were regular shuttle pilots, and were handicapped, for example.

It was a close race. Bobby and Alberto came in fifth, which absolutely thrilled them and the GWGs. Corey and Alex Long were fourth. Kevin and Casey came in third, which was okay with them. George Fairburn and his boyfriend, Oliver from the Adelaide, who were on an “exchange visit,” were second. (I wasn’t entirely sure what was exchanged, but the boys were sharing quarters and duty shifts with George and Danny. Danny told me, after the second day, that I’d have to invite Captain Fairburn and Ollie’s dad back to visit so we could tell them their sons were metas. Yeah, more of Tobor’s manipulation of the personnel system.)

Jonathan and Avery won the race. When they came out of the simulator and saw the scores, Avery put one arm around Jonathan and half-hugged him. I felt a little hesitation, and pushed Jonathan until he put his arm around Avery. I didn’t feel anything sexual, but I did feel acceptance. I figured Jonathan no longer had to worry about the age difference.

Two weeks or so later, Jonathan made an appointment to see me. He didn’t say what it was about, so I guessed it was personal, and, since I had told him that he could talk to me about sex stuff, I guessed that’s what it was about. As soon as the door opened, I knew what had happened. Jonathan was so happy his feet barely touched the floor. (Yes, some of the boys were developing telekinesis, but Jonathan wasn’t one—yet.) No, it was easy to read: he and Avery had done sex stuff and it had been very, very good. Why, then, does he want to talk? Not just to tell me, I wouldn’t think. It didn’t take any encouragement to get him talking.

Jonathan’s Story

We went to Avery’s room and lay on his bed, just cuddling. I figured this was the right time so I asked him, “Avery? Will you do sex stuff with me?” I was so afraid he would laugh, or push me away, or think I was too little. But he didn’t! He hugged me tighter, and told me that he wanted to, but wasn’t sure I wanted to.

I told him I’d never done it, nothing but cuddles and, you know, fooling around in the showers or the locker room, but nothing with anybody.

He asked me if I ever played with myself, and I told him yes, that I knew about masturbation, and did that. He nodded, and then he surprised me. I think he was feeling what I was thinking!

“You’re worried,” he said. “Afraid, I think, of something. Please tell me? I promise, I’ll keep your secrets and not laugh at you. Please?” Avery hugged me, and kissed my cheek.

I took a deep breath. I felt what I felt when I talked to you. I really knew that I could trust him. I knew that he was telling me the truth.

So, I told him. “I’m just 12,” I said. “My penis, it’s awfully little. I can’t make sperms. I’ve never done it, before. I’m afraid I’ll do something stupid and make you hate me . . .

Avery was looking straight at me, and I felt nothing but concern. I’m smart enough to know it wasn’t love, even though it felt really, really good, and I knew it was what Avery was thinking about me.

“Jonathan,” he said, “Every boy’s penis is little when he’s 12 years old! And, besides, size truly isn’t important now. Later on, when you want to . . . uh, maybe we’ll talk about that, later . . . it’s good to be bigger, but not too big.

“You can’t make sperms, yet, because you haven’t gone through puberty. It’s not like it’s because there’s something wrong with you. You’ll make sperms when your body’s ready to.”

Avery hugged me, now, and kissed my cheek. He held me, and looked into my eyes. “Jonathan, I feel really good just holding you. I would feel good making you have an orgasm, and I know a couple of ways to do that. I would feel good if you made me have an orgasm, and I’ll show you ways to do that.”