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Here you'll find
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Mount Robillard
31. A Question of CommandOnly a couple of fluffy, shabby shreds of cloud dotted the sky illuminated by twin suns, doing nothing to lessen the magnificence of the sight as it spread before his eyes. He took in the plains, the hazy blue mountains surrounding them in the distance, the scattered darker clusters consisting of grazing kangaroos, a hell of a lot of them, the faintest glimmer of sea very far away... and the elongated hexagonal shape of the Plains Base straight ahead. It looked wonderful, and once again his throat tightened at the sheer beauty of this planet.The plane sped through one of the clouds, for a fleeting moment his view was dimmed by mist and then cleared again. He heard the sound of the engines change slightly and then felt a pull to the right, looked ahead over the metal nose of the plane and saw as well as felt that they were changing course to fly in a large arc around it. "Looks fantastic, doesn't it?" Osip whispered into his ear, so close that he nearly jumped. "It does," Arria admitted and wished once again that he could see the pilot. He'd wished for it so many times already during this flight, from the moment he'd been pinned to his seat by the force of acceleration as the plane sped through the exit. But now, as they were actually approaching the Plains Base, he forgot his nervousness and leaned to the side to get a good eyeful of the place before landing. He'd never seen it before, only scanner images and maps and blueprints, never the place itself. Now it spread underneath them, looking just like those blueprints they'd studied together in the Common room. Only this was real. Real buildings, fences, runways. Real, live people inside it. But still he'd have felt a lot better if he hadn't been sitting in the front seat of a two-seat training fighter, where he couldn't see even a glimpse of the dark man who'd squeezed himself into the rear seat and was actually piloting the thing. The previous night, after a long, stressful, action-packed day, they had agreed to visit the Plains Base as soon as possible. Somehow it had quickly blown into a long and rather heated exchange that centered on the choice of transportation. Osip's eyes had widened into impossible proportions when Arria had finally yelled that he'd be damned if he got into a fighter plane for the first time in his life for that goddamn journey. Admitting anything of the sort had of course been his big mistake. Osip had firmly declared that it definitely settled the whole matter. If Commander Arria Hamidha didn't care about making an imposing entry to their freshly captured base, Osip sure was going to see to it that he did and give his lover a taste of the rapture of flying in a fighter, even if he had to knock Arria on the head and tether him to the cockpit. Arria had sulked, Osip had thrown back calculating glances, both dead set on not giving in. They had retired to their room in silence, Arria solemnly refusing to so much as look at Osip, who in turn cold-shouldered him quite as stubbornly. They'd both been totally drained. Osip had shed his clothes in silence and stomped into the bathroom, then returned a good while later stark naked, water still running down his skin. That was when Arria had made his second mistake. He'd glanced at Osip, once, when the man had thrown himself on their bed naturally getting the bedclothes wet as well and absently started to run a hand up and down his body, from broad chest to flat stomach and powerful thighs and up again, ghosting close but not touching his crotch. One glance had been enough, because after that Arria found that he couldn't tear his eyes off any more. That had naturally led to other things, including Arria's firm resolve melting into a puddle on the floor. So here he was, in a fighter plane piloted by the Head Pilot of the Robillard base. And, to be quite honest, rather enjoying himself. Osip had been mindful of his inexperience and kept the speed moderate, at least most of the time. He'd also been surprisingly well-behaved and avoided major flying stunts, not wanting to knock Arria out by exposing him to more G's than an untrained person could be expected to endure. A couple of long high-speed dives at a very gentle angle, plus some slow spins, that was all. Behind him, Osip grinned. Unbeknownst to Arria, he had set the volume of his earphones pretty high so that he could hear even the man's breathing, and that told him that the blond was definitely at ease now. Osip debated with himself whether or not he should tell Arria just how sexy his irregular panting had sounded during those long, flowing dives... For Osip, flying a fighter was an ecstasy only topped by sex. Good sex. And sex with Arria invariably was exactly that. Well, Osip promised to himself, I might tell him sometime, now that he might have at least an inkling of what I'm talking about. The plane completed its circle around the Base, slowed down and landed gracefully on the main runway. It glided to a stylish stop in the middle of it, nose pointing towards the sprawling shape of the Command Center and the group of men standing in front of it. One of them was tall, broad, and dark, and the others looked disconcertingly familiar. All of them. "The M-clones," Arria muttered under his breath as he climbed down from the cockpit and felt Osip stepping next to him. "Heavens, now I really understand why all our S-clones are so quick to believe that Baris and Merez are MC's." They walked across the tarmac to meet Orwel, who then proceeded to introduce them to Adam. The M-clone, used to being treated like furniture, was surprised when both Commanders actually greeted him instead of just nodding to acknowledge his presence. "So you're Adam, whom we have to thank for so much," Arria said and gave him a warm smile. "You and your fellow M-clones were indispensable in defeating the Union masters in this base." "I am really proud to get to know you, Adam!" Osip reached out to shake the M-clone's hand. "Proud and honored." This display of respect nearly crumbled the clone's composure. Adam looked from one man to the other, unable to express the strange emotion that welled up inside him but groping for a name for it. Finally his thoughts fell into some kind of order. They are high-ranking degenerates, and they speak to me the same way they speak to each other. They shake my hand. The other degenerates also call us 'people'. If they speak like it and act like it, then that must mean that they really consider us humans. No less humans than they are. "Proud," Adam said haltingly. "We are proud... and glad... to help you. Me and everybody else." "I'm glad to hear that, because we will certainly need your help a lot!" Arria's brown eyes were smiling. "But that's something we'll have to talk about later, when we get to know a little about this place and what's happened here." After the three men had disappeared inside the Command Center, Adam stood for a good while like a statue and looked thoughtfully after them. "Adam?" Seth said tentatively. "They greeted you." "Yes," Adam said and took a deep breath. "Many things will be different from now on, boys. Many things will be very different." The Command Center was impressive, the latest in Union technology, and it was even decorated with some eye for comfort. Arria sank into a cushioned swivel chair, sighed at the sight around him and leaned his elbows on the table. The ground control facilities had been simply mouth-wateringly spacey and well-equipped. "All right, Orwel, now please explain some things to us," Osip said, stretched his legs luxuriously and lifted his feet on the edge of the table. Arria lifted an eyebrow at the spectacle but refrained from commenting. Orwel sat down as well and inhaled deep. "We got your report all right, but thought it still needs some fleshing out. Like, how the hell do you explain Adam?" "Not very well yet," Orwel said. "We definitely need to know more, but I did ask him some questions already. It seems that each and every M-clone has a name, and they are arranged into 'families' according to the dorms they live in. They have their own organization, which to me frankly sounds like a whole culture, among themselves. And this all is headed by Adam the first man." He smiled wryly at the Commanders' astonished expressions. "It's all their own creation, believe me. No one, and I really mean no one outside the M-clones knew anything about this." "But how?" Osip asked. "I can't understand this at all. Where did these ideas come from in the first place?" This time Orwel actually laughed aloud. "Think about it. They have access to every place, they handle all communications, repairs, everything. They are of course fed data and instructions by various means, and are not supposed to even think of wanting anything more. But my guess is that at least from the cloning program point of view, Adam is somehow flawed. Maybe he has slightly more initiative than the rest, or maybe it's curiosity, or something else. As far as I understood, this is all his doing. Now he's the pivot who's aware of everything and who controls everything." "But the families, names, all that from where?" Arria insisted. "Books, Arria. Both educational and entertainment media. Films, series, everything. Don't you think that once the M-clones got wind of something like that, they just might be able to gain access to quite a few sources of information? Excepting, of course, the most highly classified Union data." Osip slumped back in his chair, chuckling. "In other words, basically the same thing that Lancer originally used on Scott, except that they've been self-studying?" "Precisely. Impressive, isn't it?" Orwel smiled to his brother across the table. "From what I heard yesterday, Adam even has a woman of his own, and so do some of his 'boys', too. Those, by the way, are his most trusted minions, his right-hand men. Men, because they all are M1's and those only come in the male variety. But there are some female M2's, and apparently they're in pretty high demand because they aren't that many. In fact," he grinned, "yesterday's spectacle might have given them a whole lot of ideas." "What spectacle?" Arria asked, round-eyed. "I didn't see it myself, but I was told by a rather baffled Adam that when Scott landed, Lancer had been there to wait for him, never mind that he was practically swaying on his feet, and the two had kissed there. Very long and profoundly, and very visibly." Orwel nearly chuckled. "Adam wanted to ask me whether Lancer was actually male or female, and when I told him that Lancer's male, never mind that long hair, and that the two of them are lovers, he went really thoughtful. The fact that Lancer is uhh 'random', as they say, and yet so close with a clone, seemed to astonish him even more." "All right. I think that's enough about the M-clones to digest for a while. But still I couldn't help wondering why the Union bastards didn't start slaughtering the MC's as well?" Osip's legs swung down from the table and he leaned intently forward. "I mean, you said that there was a command to terminate all SC's and baby TC's, and only take those five youngsters along. Why not the MC's?" "No data, sorry, only guesses," Orwel said. "Firstly, there are so incredibly many MC's and they're spread all around the place. Secondly, I think they didn't consider the MC's nearly as critical as the other clones, even if we happened to get our hands on them. Remember, they're supposed to be slow and stupid, only good as servants." Arria snorted resoundingly and crossed his arms on his chest. "For the same reason it hardly occurred to anybody that they might actually be doing anything to help us, so the things that started to happen around the Base were taken to mean that there were a hell of a lot more of us than there really were." For a while Orwel allowed himself to look self-satisfied. "Besides, I'm sure that this evacuation was supposed to be a temporary thing, and how in hell would they get the Base up and running again without MC's? No way." Osip's expression turned grim. "And that brings us neatly to another thing that we need to start discussing right now," he said. "Division of command, and location of operations." "As nicely sheltered as Robillard is, I think this place would be better suited," Orwel said with a nod. "This base has everything, plus all the clones and their fighters are here." "Out of the frying pan, into the fire," Arria sneered. "They'll still have no choice but keep on fighting for something they don't understand or care anything about." "We can't help that, Arria!" Osip said hotly. "The only place that can offer them even relative safety is right here, and we need their help to defend this! If they set a foot outside, they're outlaws. Any Union guy seeing even one of them will consider it his duty to shoot them on spot. At least we can treat them like humans and equals, not like cannon fodder." "You're right, of course." Arria pressed his face into his hands. "I just so fucking hate this all, this whole situation, the Union, having to think about these things... thinking of people as mere pawns..." Orwel stared but Osip just reached a long arm and gently rubbed the blond man's nape. "None of us particularly likes it, love," he said softly. "But we're in this together, and we've just got to give it our best shot. We've got nobody else to rely on but ourselves." "I know!" Arria raised his head and banged both fists on the cushioned armrests of his chair. "I still hate it, though." Orwel shook his head slightly, surprised by Arria's display of temper. He wondered whether it was a rarity or had he just managed to always be somewhere else when such a thing happened. "In that case," he continued, much more warily than he'd intended, "you'll hate what we'll have to talk about now. Osip mentioned the division of command. I have a suggestion." "All ears," Osip said and leveled an expectant look at his brother. Orwel hesitated. Apparently this was an even more delicate topic than he had thought, for it seemed that there was more than Osip's pride to consider. "I was thinking," Orwel started, "that as I know this base better than you, I would assume command of the Base operations. Training the clones and such. Osip would continue as the Commander of Pilots. And you... you'd assume overall command." Arria turned slowly to stare at Orwel, his mouth opening slowly. He didn't say anything, though, and Orwel stole a quick glance at Osip, who to his astonishment was smiling broadly. "Aye, brother, you spoke a true word," Osip intoned. "My thoughts exactly. Precisely what I was going to suggest. So this obviously means that the plan is a good one." "No it is not!" Arria exploded. "What the hell are you talking about, you two? Me, overall commander?" "Yes, you, Supreme Commander Arria Hamidha," Osip said with a smile. "Sounds handsome, doesn't it?" "Excuse me, it sounds absolutely ridiculous!" Arria fumed and jumped on his feet. "I think that you, Osip, have at some point suffered more G's in your fighter than your head could take, but I really can't imagine what your excuse might be!" He pointed a long finger at Orwel. "I mean, that's completely ludicrous. Me, supreme commander? Let me remind you that I've got no military training, none whatsoever, to qualify me for such a post!" "Well, then obviously you're a natural," Orwel retorted. "You've done a magnificent job in Robillard. If that's been done with no military training, then you simply don't need any." "You have this uncanny talent for organization and strategy," Osip joined in. Arria stopped and threw his hands in the air. "Flattery will get you nowhere," he snapped. "I refuse, categorically, you hear me?" "Rather loud, Commander," Osip said. "Well, this is obviously something that will still require some more discussion before we reach a consensus, right?" Orwel nodded and suppressed a snicker at Osip's smug expression. Luckily Arria missed it, as he spun around on his heels once more. Osip pushed himself on his feet and went to hug the blond man close. "Don't blow your top," the pilot murmured. "Orwel, do you think we could go and see the rest of our mighty assault forces now? I really would like to check on them." "Sure!" Orwel got up as well, thankful to observe that the change of topic seemed to smooth Arria's ruffled feathers. "They're in the T-building, it's been converted into a ward for the time being. Come on, I'll take you there now." Arria took a few moments to compose himself once more, then turned around and forced a smile on his narrow face. "Yeah, let's go to see them," he agreed. "But this sure is something we'll come back to, later." "Not too much later, lover," Osip said under his breath and let the blond step ahead of himself into the corridor. Orwel heard him, and the two exchanged a meaningful look before following Arria through the door.
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