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The survival plan was easy enough: find a nice, secluded corner, stand there for an hour and then disappear. Maybe even grab a drink or two and chat with Lieutenant Crank for a while. It wasn’t too complicated or risky, was it? Nothing could go wrong.
Of course everything went wrong.
Why was Ein even supposed to be at the party? No idea. At first it seemed that Chief Conrad wanted to invite only higher ranking officials. It would make sense: it wasn’t an everyday thing to host audit inspectors from Earth, especially those connected to the Seven Stars families. And here they were, two Specialist Majors sent straight from central Gjallarhorn base. If Chief valued his position, they had to be treated like the most important people in the world. He suggested a banquet in their honor, up there in the orbital base. But no, Specialist Majors expressed the desire to descend onto the planet’s surface and throw a party the whole staff of the Mars branch.
Ein didn’t object to it; he just wished to be far away from the whole mess.
“All Gjallarhorn members need to be rewarded for their hard work.” The intercom was buzzing with a happy voice. Ein wondered which one of the Earth officers it was. “We will be honored if you join us tonight in the Mars headquarters for a celebratory party. The start is scheduled around 20:00 standard Outer Sphere time, so be sure to show up on time if you want to grab a drink.”
Ein winced. He wasn’t going to attend, no. Why would he want to spend time in presence of Gjallarhorn nobility? They would certainly treat him like a subhuman freak. A half-Martian like him would be such a disgusting sight for their earthly eyes. Yes, he will just feign illness and stay in his quarters tonight…
His terminal beeped. Ein looked at the screen; there was one new notification. Chief Conrad. Frowning, he opened the message.
If any of you flakes out, I’m cutting your payment for the next three months.
Putting on his least worn-out uniform, Ein just hoped that Specialist Majors won’t retch the very moment they see him.
The party took place in one of the hangars. Normally it housed Mobile Workers, but tonight the whole equipment was removed. Instead, the hangar was filled with tables and chairs. There were all kinds of snacks and beverages prepared, including a surprisingly large selection of beers and spirits. The latter seemed to be the most popular choice.
Poor non-combat staff, they were going to have a lot of cleaning tomorrow.
Nursing a lukewarm beer in his hand – his third that night – Ein stood near the wall and observed. Specialist Majors were swarmed by countless Gjallarhorn staff members. They were tall enough to stand out from the crowd, though. Were all Earth nobles this tall? On the other hand, they didn’t behave like noblemen at all. Ein expected them to be distant and cold; instead they were cordial and polite, chatting with everyone who approached – officers and workers alike. The blond-haired one had a more reserved demeanor; he spoke less and smiled instead of laughing aloud like his companion. He must have been the more important one, Ein concluded. Chief Conrad didn’t leave this Specialist Major for even a moment, laughing at his every joke and remark. Ein downed the beer and poured himself another glass. The things officers do for a promotion…
“Ein!” A familiar voice called him. Ein smiled; at least Lieutenant Crank was here too. “Are you having fun?”
“I don’t think I’m cut for any parties.” Ein confessed, looking away from his mentor. If there was anyone he could talk to, it was Lieutenant Crank. However, speaking with him had a possible drawback…
“You should probably go talk to someone.” Lieutenant Crank patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you go and introduce yourself to one of the Specialist Majors?”
Lieutenant Crank was an idealist. He believed that socializing with other Gjallarhorn staff would help Ein to stop getting bullied. ‘They will like you once they get to know you’, this kind of talk. There was a little flaw in his plan, though. Ein had no intention of sticking around his bullies and enduring their company until they decide that he’s actually an okay person. Instead he took another sip of beer.
“I don’t think they’ve ever seen a Martian in their life. They may not be ready for such a shock, poor Earth-born boys.” He looked at Specialist Majors. It seemed they tried to lose Chief Conrad in the crowd. Good old Chief didn’t take the hint and followed at their heels. “I bet the blond one would throw his wine in my face.”
His mentor’s expression was stern. “Ein, lay off the alcohol for tonight. You’re losing control.”
Ein looked at his glass; somehow it was empty. How could it be? He could have sworn he refilled it just a moment ago.
“Lieutenant Zent!” Ein looked up. Orlis Stenja was waving at them; next to him was one of the Earth officers. “Could you please come here for a moment? Specialist Major Bauduin wants a word with you!”
“No more alcohol, understood?” Ein nodded. Lieutenant Crank glanced at him as he made his way towards the other Specialist Major. With another beer in hand – he was fine, Lieutenant Crank was underestimating him – Ein settled against the wall and observed the situation.
Specialist Major Bauduin was taller than his colleague. He had purple hair – was that color common on Earth? Here, on Mars, nobody had purple hair. Dark, long eyelashes framed beautiful almond-shaped eyes. They formed a stark contrast with white skin, which looked soft and…
Ein slapped himself with his free hand, spilling some beer over his uniform. It was futile and improper, harboring such thoughts for a superior officer. Especially if said officer was from Seven Stars. Taking another gulp, he watched on.
As Ein’s mentor approached, Major Bauduin’s face lit up with a smile. The Earth officer shook Lieutenant Crank’s hand; he seemed sincerely excited to meet him. He talked a lot, but also listened intently; Ein couldn’t hear a word from where he was standing but it seemed as if Major and Lieutenant were equals in this conversation. Ein felt an involuntary surge of liking towards Specialist Major; it was comforting to look at high-rank officials acting like this. Just how different were customs in the Earth division? Officers of the Mars branch always made sure to mark their superiority over subordinates, either with a nasty remark or an unpleasant duty.
After one more vigorous handshake, Lieutenant Crank moved to talk with blond Specialist Major. Ein steadied himself against the wall – damn beer finally started working – and closed his eyes. It was not fair; the officer would never treat Ein like an equal, no matter how kind and handsome he seemed. No Martian was equal to an Earth citizen, even a half-blooded one. Well, it didn’t matter anymore. It was time to grab one last beer and leave the party.
“I think we haven’t spoken yet.” A voice rang to his left; the same that was speaking through the intercom earlier this day. Ein opened one eye and almost dropped his glass.
Specialist Major Bauduin was standing next to him. He was smiling with his whole face, it seemed; especially with those big, blue eyes. From up close his hair looked even more exotic, Ein thought.
“Well, nice to meet you. I’m Gaelio Bauduin.” Specialist Major reached out to him. “I hope you’re having fun tonight.”
Astonished, Ein shook the offered hand. Even through two layers of standard Gjallarhorn gloves he could feel the warmth of Gaelio Bauduin’s skin. He didn’t want to let go – but then it was improper to hold on for too long – and he should probably introduce himself too.
“Second Lieutenant Ein Dalton. It’s an honor to meet you.” Suddenly he was very aware of all the alcohol he indulged in. He braced against the wall, trying to appear sober. Gaelio’s beautiful features shifted into concern.
“Um, are you okay? Do you need any assistance?” Specialist Major touched his shoulder. Ein tried to shake his hand off, but only stumbled. He fell forward, stretching his arms forward to break the fall.
Except that he didn’t fall. Well, he did, but instead of connecting with the floor he fell into something warm and cozy. Something that enveloped him and said in Gaelio Bauduin’s voice:
“I think it’s enough partying for tonight.” The words pleasantly rumbled against Ein’s cheek. He leaned into the sensation, delighted. Mmm, what was this nice smell? “Let me escort you to your quarters…”
Suddenly all ground escaped from under his feet. Ein’s brain and stomach lurched at the same time.
Something was shrilling at him, piercing his eardrums. The more he listened, the less organic the sound became. After few minutes it stabilized to a high-pitched mechanical beeping.
His head felt as if it was full of lead. Fighting the overwhelming urge to go back to sleep, Ein opened his eyes. These were his quarters and his bed. What happened last night? There was a party; he was talking to Lieutenant Crank and one of the Earth officers, Gaelio Bauduin…
Suddenly freed from hangover, Ein sat up. Specialist Major! The last thing he remembered was their conversation. His blood suddenly ran cold. If he did anything stupid it was the end of his military career – and probably his job in Gjallarhorn too.
The beeping didn’t subside. It was the message terminal; Ein reached out for it with a shaking hand.
Fifteen new messages. It didn’t bode well.
Ein swallowed the bile in his throat and opened the first one. It was from Chief Conrad.
Dalton, I’m cutting your pay for the next six months. I was going to fire you but Specialist Major Bauduin insisted otherwise. See me today at 13:20 OS.
Ein sighed. At least he didn’t lose the job. Thank you, Specialist Major Bauduin, for being so forgiving.
He glanced at the clock; it was just after 12:00. Still a bit of time until his meeting with Conrad. He opened the next message.
Ein, what you did was very disappointing. I understand that you were stressed by the occasion, but you shouldn’t have gotten so drunk. However, you were very lucky. If you did this to someone less understanding, I wouldn’t be able to help you out with this.
Ein groaned. “Lieutenant Crank, I’m so sorry for not listening to you, but what did I do?”
The next message was from Orlis.
Haha, you’ve fucked up.
Ein scrolled through the rest of notifications. They were all similar in tone. It would have been more helpful if somebody told him what happened last night. Judging from the reactions, whatever transpired between him and Specialist Major must have been the most scandalous thing in the whole history of Gjallarhorn’s Mars branch. He was about to put the terminal away, but it flashed once more. One new message, this time from an unknown sender. Bracing himself for the worst, Ein tapped the icon.
Second Lieutenant Ein Dalton,
I trust you are feeling better. Yesterday I took the liberty of changing you out of your uniform – the cleaning’s on me, by the way. Don’t worry – you were not the only one to get drunk and vomit all over the place. We must have overestimated the capabilities of the Mars branch. Incidentally, banquets among Seven Stars families have a similar amount of alcohol, but maybe we’re just used to holding our liquor better.
I enjoyed your company last night; it’s a shame we didn’t talk longer. As a possible amendment, would you like to join me today for a dinner at 19:00? I promise there will be excellent food and no alcohol.
Looking forward to meeting you again,
Specialist Major Gaelio Bauduin.
P.S. I am very glad that you find my choice of cologne so alluring.
Ein threw the terminal into the wall.