Hey, you, he sends, friendly but tired.

Psychologists are freaking out. They're going to send me all the way to Command a year early to jolly you out of - something. I haven't gotten the orders yet, I'll have to pretend to be surprised. What happened, my bird?

The old guy's been acting weirder than usual, says Sue. And I can tell something's up, it is so incredibly fucking obvious that they're hiding something big, but he plays dumb whenever I try to pry it out of him. It's pissing me off, so I stopped playing, and now they don't know what to do with me.

Well, I don't know why they expect me to be any help, then, it's all over my file that I'm only useful when nobody's giving me any bullshit.

Who knows, he sighs.

Aegis's door slides open. She's been bunked alone since Sue left. She's ordered to report to a shuttle leaving for Command. She pretends to be surprised and to protest about her age. She's ignored. She goes. She's the only one on it, besides the pilot. Well, I'm on my way anyway.

Lucky me, says Sue.

Well, at least I'll be company that isn't fucking with you.

He sends a giggle.

I think they're sending Howlett too, though he's not on this shuttle unless he's flying it - I haven't got a look at the pilot so far.

It would not surprise me even a little bit if Howlett knew how to fly a shuttle, says Sue.

Hell, I know how to fly a shuttle. If he keels over from a heart attack I'll be able to get to Command School and dock as long as the destination's in the computer.

It'd take more than a heart attack to kill Howlett, he points out.

Maybe it'd put him out of commission for a minute, fixing the damage, right when we're almost there and I'd get to play collision-stopping hero, suggests Aegis. But it might not even be him, they might be letting him finish up the unit of classes or something first.

Sue laughs. Guess you'll find out when you dock, unless you go up and look before then.

I'm sure I'll encounter him. If nothing else he'll have to come out of the control room to get to the head sometime, there's only one on board.

He giggles.

Aegis calls up the book she's in the middle of from the ship's copy of the standard Battle School-and-its-relatives library, finds her place, and reads.

Sue doesn't cut the link, but he doesn't say anything more, either.

What kind of game do they have you playing, anyway? she asks while she pages through the book. She's pretty good at multitasking.

They've got these training simulators that're pretty gorgeous, and I'm commanding imaginary fleets on 'em, he says cheerfully.

That sounds fun. They've really pissed you off if you're quitting those, huh?

Yep.

I wonder what they care so much about not telling you. Are they denying that there's a secret at all, or just saying they won't tell?

They're kind of doing the 'well if there was a big secret, we wouldn't tell you jack about it' thing.

Assholes.

Tell me about it.

Tell you what? You know more than I do. Have you got guesses?

Not really. Whatever it is, Old Guy is in it big. I think he's mad at me for kicking his ass that one time.

Then why'd he even start the fight?

Well, that's just it, says Sue. I think it was supposed to be some kind of psychological thing, to keep me off balance or something. I think he was supposed to win. But instead I wiped the floor with him. So now he's pissed off.

That's idiotic. If he's supposed to win, they should've made sure he was able to.

I think I was better than they were expecting, he says smugly.

You been getting in unconventional forms of practice they can't track or something?

Nope. So I guess they're just not paying attention.

That's... that's even stupider than I expect from the people we're talking about, here. There has to be some other explanation. Was the guy even particularly good? Was it close? Could they have some reason to think you wouldn't kick his ass when provoked?

Well, he's old? hazards Sue. And he tried to fake me out a couple times, like he was hurt too bad to keep fighting, but man, I know when I've hurt somebody too bad to keep fighting. He was good, I'll give him that. But I think he was expecting me to hold back on him, and I didn't.

Huh. What's he like? Besides old and irritable and cagey?

Old, says Sue. And irritable. And cagey. Well, not really irritable - he tries to act like he's my 'enemy', but that's fucked, he's obviously here to teach me. That's part of what's weird about all this. Why the fuck are they giving me this nasty old fart as a teacher, and why the fuck is he dressing it up like his job is to make my life hell?

Dunno. Maybe he'll be less cagey if I meet him? Am I likely to do that, given they'll have to put you and me in a room since they don't know we can link?

Who even knows, sighs Sue.

Wonder if they'll bunk us again or put me someplace else.

I hope they bunk us again, except then the nasty old fart would be waking you up at all hours too.

He wakes you up? In the middle of the space-night? Why, what for?

Your guess is as good as mine. Probably better.

What does he try to do, though, is he calling you to - read things, do things, talk to people...?

Anything. Sometimes he just stares at me for a while, or says something about how the enemy ever waits, and then lets me go back to sleep. He hasn't done it since I quit, but it hasn't been that long, so I don't know if it's just not time yet in his nasty old fart schedule.

Well, we'll see if I can run interference. Let him read my psych file if he wants it and decide what to do from there, they're less confused about me than they are about you, they have a few years of me reading my own mind and laying it all out in English for them.

You're the best, he says happily.

I am!

You aaaaaaaare.

My orders didn't specify an ETA. I'm gonna ask the pilot. Aegis hops to her feet and knocks on the door to the control room.

"Oh, it's you. Hi, sir. I wanted to know when we expect to arrive at Command School." It's Howlett.

"Classified," he says. "And by that I mean, I don't know either. They're feeding the course into the computer piece by piece."

"Well," says Aegis reasonably, "how much food's listed in the ship manifest?"

"Sure, but we can still tell the difference between a month's supply giving us leeway for a week and a year's supply giving us leeway for eight months."

"We have enough food for two years," he says. "And I know it doesn't take two years to get to Command School."

I don't remember, he says. Do you? I told you when I left and when I got here, right?

You didn't tell me right when you got there, you'd been there a few days before we talked again and I don't know how many, so I only know it was ballpark of a week.

Well, that's more than Howlett knows, he points out cheerfully.

Yeah. "Why's the location so secret, or is that as secret as the location itself?"

Howlett spreads his hands. "Above my pay grade, kid."

"Do you know why they're reassigning you?"

"I could guess."

"Oh, please do, we could be here for as long as two years for all they've told either of us and if we don't chat however shall we pass the time?"

"Sue," says Aegis, and otherwise she waits for Howlett to go on.

"So if the two of us got pulled out of the middle of a term at Tactical to go to Command, I bet something's wrong with him," says Howlett. "And knowing that kid, it could be just about anything."

"But they didn't tell you?"

"Nothin'," he confirms.

"That sucks," she opines.

"I'm used to it."

"Sudden unexplained reassignment? They do that a lot? Maybe I should reconsider the career choices I made at age six."

"I was thinking more 'big organizations shoving me around without telling me why', but yeah, same thing," says Howlett.

"You been in a lot of big organizations besides the IF?" she asks, swaying, turning on the spot, swaying again in her usual absent dance.

"Plenty," he says. "More than I'd like."

"Storytime?"

"Not really," shrugs Howlett.

Nope, says Sue.

Guess you're a surprise, he says cheerfully.

"I didn't get an escort in Tactical, why do I get one here? Do you even know your way around?" she asks Howlett.

"Nope," says Howlett.

She snorts, and weaves her way through the tunnels. She's grown quite a bit, and they're too short to be comfortable for her or Howlett, let alone the tall soldier who gave them their instructions. "Who the hell built this place? The buggers?" she mutters.

"Good question," says Howlett.

Eventually they find their way to Aegis's assigned quarters.

"Bye," says Aegis, and she arranges her login on her desk and waits for her class schedule to appear. Welp, here I am. No sign of you or a nasty old dude.

Yeah, he says. Haven't seen him all week.

If I were them, Aegis said, and all I cared about was trying to get you to play the game again and not letting on about whatever secret, and I were a little stupid, I'd try cutting off your desk privileges, telling everyone not to talk to you, and giving you nothing at all to do but go play the game on the simulator.

Well, they cut me off all right, he says. I still get class shit, but nobody says a word to me.

Are you going to classes? she asks.

Tutors, is his one-word answer. Not in the last week or so, now it just comes through my desk.

They want you to save the world and their idea is solitary confinement. Smart, smart people, says Aegis derisively.

He sends a concurring snort.

I'm going to ask somebody official where you might be located if they haven't put me in a room with you on purpose inside a week, and if they won't tell me, I'll see if I can pry it out of the computer system. Are you allowed out of your room at all?

Yeah, but only to go down the hall and pee. The corridor section doesn't let me out.

There's not even anything else on the section?

My room, a bathroom, and a bunch of doors that don't open.

Wow. They couldn't just own up about being shits and put you in the brig, huh?

Guess not.

When you turn eighteen they have to, legally, allow planetside leave and invite you to re-up, even if you or them determined that the leave at age twelve could go hang - what do they think they're doing? If they want you they shouldn't be antagonizing you when you're two years away from telling them all to fuck themselves and if they don't want you they could ice you now.

Ask them, he suggests. Except don't, 'cause then they'll know we were talking.

Maybe I can steer the conversation around if they don't let me see you for long enough that it makes sense for me to ask. Of course, maybe they'll cut me off, maybe the faction which doesn't think I'll do any good is in charge here and they just plan to put me in classes and not in contact with you at all.

Maybe they're trying to see if we're talking, he hypothesizes.

...I hope not.

Me too.

You probably wanna look up the effects of solitary confinement - it's a more reasonable thing for you to do than me - and fake them? Aegis suggests.

They might be able to tell, he says. And then if I got them for real I could be extra fucked.

I don't... think you should wind up with them for real, since I can keep you company. It shouldn't be that much about people being physically there, should it?

Don't know, he says, with a shorthand shrug.

It'd make sense for you to look it up either way, you don't necessarily have to fake it just because you read about it, she points out.

I think... I wouldn't look it up unless you suggested it, or I was going to fake it. So I shouldn't.

Ooh. Okay. Pause. Even if I couldn't talk to you, I might look up that - well, and a lot of unrelated stuff, like, legal stuff - if I got a suspicious answer after asking for you. So I might do that.

Okay, says Sue.

She receives a message with her core class schedule and a list of electives she qualifies for that don't conflict, and she picks two electives and says, Apparently I have class in ten minutes, and this place is a maze, I'm gonna start looking for it now.

Have fun, he says wryly.

I probably will. And - hey - if I'm literally the only person you can talk to? Don't not-talk-to-me if you need company, I don't want you to actually go nuts, I can be a little scattered in class now and then.

Okay, he says, and pushes you're-such-a-good-friend.

I bet you'll love it.

A few minutes later, Aegis reports, I do. I really, really do.

Told you so.

"I'm sorry," the teacher says politely, "I can't offer you that kind of information."

"At Tactical the system was set up to let us find each other," Aegis says, affecting polite puzzlement. "I'm not going to bother him when he's got other things to do, or anything, but my desk messages aren't going through." (This is true, she sent one and it bounced.)

"This isn't Tactical," says the teacher.

"Yes," says Aegis. "I'm aware of that. But I think there is something wrong with the internal desk messaging system, and the automatic repair request apparently didn't reach anyone either, and so I want to find my friend another way. I know he's here. If you can't help me, can you tell me who can?"

Flatly: "No."

"Why not?"

The xenobio teacher just shakes his head.

Figures.

Nope. Nasty old fart came by once, but he didn't say shit about you, just asked me if I was done having my tantrum yet. I told him to fuck himself.

Goddammit. I'm short on ideas, here. Do you know who your tutors were when they were sending tutors? she tries.

You know I'm shit with names, he says, but he digs up a few faces and passes them along.

If this shit goes on long enough, I'll start asking literally everyone about you so it won't look weird when I home in on these people, she says. I'll make a fuss. They can't do this to you, they could slap you in the brig if they gave you a direct order to play the sim and you wouldn't play but solitary confinement is not on, it's against the law.

It's sweet how you expect them to care.

I don't, at this point. But I expect to learn something from the ways in which they do not care.

Maybe.

Aegis pulls another "backup" of the Battle School psych files to see what they're saying about Sue this week.

Are they gonna find out you're hacking all this shit? he wonders.

They haven't for the last few years. Or if they have they haven't let on. It looks like it's just pushing backups, probably easy to miss if they're not monitoring my desk access too closely.

You're awesome, have I told you that recently?

Not in the last few minutes, so no, says Aegis.

Well. He sends a smile. You are.

I miss you, she says. Having you physically around, I mean. It's been a long time.

Are you holding up okay?

...Not really, he admits.

Can you think of anything else for me to do?

Not really. I mean, even if you could break into my room and give me a hug...

She digs down for the nearest facsimile she can send, squeezing her eyes shut against tears.

He pushes back gratitude and affection and friendship.

I'm glad I can let you in, no matter how freaked I was to start.

I'm glad too, says Sue. I'm glad I'm your bird.

She shares this with Sue. Sounds you-related to me.

What isn't?

The office is occupied by a grumpy bureaucrat. He doesn't seem to want to speak first.

"Hello, sir," says Aegis obligingly. "I was asked to report here at this time."

"I bet you can guess why," he says shortly.

"I guess it has something to do with Sue, sir? No one will tell me where he is, or why they won't tell me."

"What kind of problem, sir?"

"The kind that ignores orders and tries to extort classified information out of his superiors," he says dryly.

"If he's disobeyed legal orders, sir, then there's already a standard array of ways to handle that. What do you need me for?"

"The one thing all our psych people seem to agree on," he sighs, "is that this kid can't be handled in standard ways."

"So... you want me to handle him in a nonstandard way, sir?" asks Aegis. She starts broadcasting the conversation to Sue.

"I want you," he says plainly, "to do whatever it takes to get him back on the simulator."

"What are my resources for doing that with, sir? So far I haven't even been allowed to see him."

"You can be moved to his corridor, if you think that'll help," he says. "You can have free access to his room."

"...But I don't get the information he wants so I can tell him I know it and it's okay even if he himself can't know it, or whatever files you have on him and this situation, or anything about why it's so important that this particular student plays games instead of getting iced?" Aegis asks.

"The file we have on him at this point amounts to a dozen bureaucrats yelling at each other," he snorts. "I might release it to you just for the entertainment value."

"It's not impossible that it could help, sir."

"And I don't know what gave you the idea that I'd reward his bad behaviour by giving you whatever he's prying after," he adds.

"I didn't particularly expect you to, sir, but it could easily be the quickest way to get him to do what you want," Aegis says. "I don't know what the information is or why he wants it, but it sounds like he's willing to have a power struggle about it, and it won't actually make him any more likely to pull this kind of thing in the future if he wins one. It also won't make him less likely to do it if he loses one."

Dryly, "Have you been reading his psych files?"

"I've been his friend for years, sir. Students don't have access to the psych files."

"So I've heard," he mutters. "Well, why don't you go ask him what he wants."

"All right, sir, where can I find him?"

He conjures the appropriate directions on his desk and rotates them so she can read them from her side of the table.

Aegis reads them. "And - just confirming, sir - at present my only resource for convincing Sue to do anything he doesn't want to do is my charming company and the vague threat that I might be taken away?"

"You came up with that vague threat," he says, "not me. You can threaten to take yourself away if you think it'll help. I'm done threatening things."

"Sir, the threat was issued when I arrived on this station and he wasn't there to meet me. Unless you explicitly tell us that we can see each other whenever we want in perpetuity - and Sue believes you - then the threat stands."

"I don't see any profit in arguing that point with you," he says. "Go talk to your friend."

"Hi, Sue," says Aegis softly.

He mumbles something unintelligible into his pillow.

"I was kinda hoping for a warmer welcome than that," says Aegis, closing the door behind her and swaying.

"Oh - oh Sue," she says, and she sits on the bed and leans over him and hugs.

He burrows into her lap as much as he can without uncurling.

"Sue, Sue, my bird, my bird," soothes Aegis, "it's okay, I'm here, they say I can come whenever I want, you don't have to be all cooped up by yourself..."

He wraps his arms around her and cries some more, quietly but steadily.

She holds him and waits. Occasionally she murmurs "my bird" again.

"Hi," she murmurs. bird bird bird what's wrong? I thought you were holding up okay...

Aegis pets his hair. ...You dreamed about other mes and yous before, but that one's... huh.

"I graduated Tactical a couple of weeks ago and they haven't let me see you till now, but now they want me to talk you into going back on the simulator. Somehow. For some reason," says Aegis, dutifully playing for the likely hidden cameras and going on petting his hair. "They moved Howlett too, at the same time, he thought it was probably about you to begin with, I don't suppose you've seen him?"

"Take a guess," he snorts.

"Oh, my bird," she sighs.

"Yeah." He sighs, too. "It's been just me and mysteriously appearing meals for like a month or something."

"Maybe not a month," he admits. "Feels like a month, though. At least a few weeks. And they're completely fucked up, but hey, I knew that already."

"The guy who sent me here said you don't want to play to 'extort information' from the higher-ups," Aegis says, twirling some of his hair around her finger. Giving him the usual haircut would have required more human contact than he's been allowed and he's shaggier than usual.

"They're hiding something," he says. "I don't know what it is, but I'm really fucking tired of it."

"It's apparently really important. I mean, the thing they're hiding isn't necessarily important, they could just be being obnoxious about need-to-know and clearance and stuff, but the getting you on the simulator, if they're pulling illegal not to mention ineffective crap to get you to do it." Pause. "I wonder why. They could just ice you. They iced people in Battle School, in Tactical, I haven't seen it here yet but they must do, they can't just be chasing a sunk cost..."

"I'm some kinda special," Sue agrees. "Pretty sure I'm the only kid in the school with a teacher who wakes him up in the middle of the night to yell at him, too."

"You're good, but there's lots of kids who're good," muses Aegis. "Are they in some kind of hurry...?"

"Maybe the buggers are coming to blast us off the planet," he snorts.

"But why wouldn't they just tell you that? You wouldn't let everyone die."

"Maybe they think I would," he suggests.

"Why would they think that?"

He shrugs.

"I asked the guy if he could tell me what the big secret was, and then even if I wasn't allowed to tell you I could tell you if it was a big deal or not, but he didn't tell me shit," sighs Aegis.

"The fuck do you expect?" he shrugs.

"I expect them to notice when what they're doing isn't working. And if they brought me in as a Sue-expert I expect them to treat me like I might have information on how to deal with Sue. But apparently I'm disappointed today."

"Yep," sighs Sue, nestling his head into her lap.

"But at least supposedly we're not under any particular threat of my being taken away," says Aegis. "I could probably even move in, if you want, although I'm not sure how they'd keep you in when I left the corridor to go to classes - I'm pretty sure you are still under house arrest, here - and we might not like whatever they come up with."

"Move in anyway," he says. "I miss you."

"Okay. I'll get my stuff when you've unclung some. No hurry."

"You're the best," he says, smiling.

"I am, it is true."

He giggles softly.

"I don't suppose there is any way to get you back on the simulator short of telling you whatever-it-is?" Aegis asks.

"Sure," he says. "If you convinced me it'd actually matter to the survival of the human race."

"If it did," Aegis snorts, "that'd probably be the big secret."

He giggles.

"I mean, it could make a difference. You're good, we're training to be soldiers for a reason. I'm just not sure why they think it makes such a huge difference."

"Exactly," he shrugs.

"Have they been having you link any subordinates up when you've been playing? Maybe they think that'll be a gigantic edge and they need to figure out how much of one."

"Nah," he says. "I keep expecting them to, but they don't."

"Then I'm stumped," says Aegis. "They don't even know if you'll be a big deal."

He shrugs expansively.

"Mm? What's wrong?"

"My exo's gone."

"...What the fuck," he says, rolling out of bed and going over to her. "You okay otherwise?"

"I think so." She lies very still; only her eyes move.

Quietly: "What do you want me to do?"

"...I might need you to bring me breakfast. If it doesn't... turn up. I've been wearing it so long, I don't think I remember how to walk without it... But I - have to know where it is, why it's gone -"

"You're..." He frowns suddenly. "I can see you. I mean. You're there. You're—" And he nudges her mind, and there is no wall at all.

"But they - I'm unusable like this - they can't train me to do anything if I'm fucking bedridden -" she exclaims. "...Oh god, they never wanted me to convince you of anything or else they gave up on that awfully fast, I'm here so they can extort you, that's what I'm for -"

She nods. "You probably don't need to outright pick me up - I can probably walk a little -" But her attempts at even getting out from under the blanket are laughable; she moves like an insect trapped in amber that is moments away from hardening through.

Sue scoops her gently out of bed and carries her to the door.

She can move her arms. She's had to be able to do that to wash. She can reach out and clumsily drag a palm across the door panel.

"Wanna go exploring?" he asks, stepping out into the corridor.

"Exploring?"

"I'm thinking," he says brightly, "that we keep walking until we're out of doors you can open or we find somebody to yell at. Or somebody shows up to give your exo back."

"Okay," she says, and she leans her head on his shoulder, because holding it up when it won't stay up just from wanting is exhausting and terrible.

Sue keeps going, down to the end of the corridor, where Aegis can try her hand again.

"You're gonna give her exo back, right?" he says with false cheer.

"You didn't join a social club, you joined a military," says the nasty old fart. "Now. We only need her to link up with you for a short time, you can finish a certain simulator sequence with her and some of her old Battle School friends, and we can give her something to suppress the C24 and she'll be back to normal - with her exoskeleton too - or you can prolong this power struggle."

"Whaddya say?" he asks Aegis.

"If you wanna do it, I'll do it," Sue says to Aegis. "If you don't wanna do it, they can kiss my ass."

Tentatively, Sue nudges her mind.

I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do, she says, turning her face into his shoulder again, and this time sharing is easy, there's no hurdle to clear or circumvent, and she sends a rush of feelings - the sack-of-cement awfulness of her traitor limbs and the terror that it's permanent and she'll never, ever fly, the creeping fear that now her brain's exposed to the elements and someone less friendly than Sue might notice and hurt her where she lives, impotent fury at the IF and their clumsy, stupid, secretive misrule and she could do it better, and she is so glad Sue is on her side but she doesn't know what she wants her side to do, she's defiant and terrified all at once.

If we can get off this rock, he says, and get back to Earth, I guarantee you you can have your exo again. Howlett's a pilot, I bet he'd be in if I tapped him. It'd be risky, but we're fucking geniuses. We could get it done. Or we could knuckle under and do what they want and get it back fast, unless and until they decide to fuck us over again. I'm with you either way.

How would getting back to earth get my exo back? There isn't another one back home. I have the only complete set.

My mom would cry buckets over you, is how. Enough money will get just about anything done.

Yeah, that's what I'm thinking, he says to the latter. And I promise you, if it is physically possible to build you another exo, my family can get it done. The one you've got didn't just appear out of thin air one day; people built it.

If we leave the station now we're fugitives. They don't have to let us go anywhere till we're eighteen. We could get caught, especially if anybody starts doing something obvious like getting exoskeleton specs. It was originally supposed to be military hardware, the IF definitely has people involved in whoever's keeping the plans.

Yeah, and then we let out they gave a minor illegal drugs against her will, he points out. Mutie suppressants are banned by international law.

It's our word against theirs and - I just don't think we'd win - but - I could tell them that I know how to let you in even when I'm in working order, she sends slowly. That I've been doing it for years and it's safe...

You trust them with that?

I don't trust them with shit. But if they want something and they'll do whatever they have to to get it and I can tell them that they can get it without hurting me so bad...

Sure, he says decisively. And we can tell them we're not doing shit until you're back in your bones.

Sue smiles.

Sue carries her thataway.

"You didn't have to drug me. Sue can link me regardless," Aegis tells the bureaucrat flatly. "And we're not doing shit if you cripple me either which way."

Sue laughs and hugs her.

"Maybe," he hazards. "Where are they?"

"The other simulator rooms. You've been to most of them," the old dude says. "Must we take a tour before you can locate them?"

"Sure," he says, hugging her.

Aegis hugs back, then reports to the bureaucrat's office.

"My psychologists are screaming," he says conversationally when Aegis walks in. "And my security people are screaming back, but between the two, I'll take the psychologists. You might want to sit down."

"I'm not going to fall over if I don't intend to fall over," Aegis points out, "now that I'm in my gear."

"You just fought and won a real battle against a bugger fleet," he says evenly. "Feel like falling over now?"

"...Lightspeed delay," says Aegis. She doesn't fall over, but she does stop swaying.

"Not a factor," says the bureaucrat. "We've had faster-than-light communications since shortly after the Second Invasion. These are closely guarded I.F. secrets and I can have you court-martialed if you spread them around, by the way. The only reason you're hearing this is because so many people are so very sure that I need to tell your friend this before he loses a sim battle on purpose, and I think you're best placed to judge when and how."

"A fucking month ago," says Aegis.

"If the I.F. had time machines," he says dryly, "we wouldn't need your friend to win this war."

"So we're an invasion fleet, get them before they come back and get us, we have FTL communications, the simulators are hooked up to actual ships, fuck, how many men died when Qiaochu's ship got dinged?"

"I don't have that report yet," he says. "Communications may be instantaneous, but bureaucracy still takes time."

"Yes sir." Her hand goes to her forehead and massages her temple. "Fuck. I can tell Sue? Can I tell the subordinates?"

"Yes, sir," she says quietly. "- If Sue could also link the admirals commanding those fleets where they are -"

"It's been suggested," he says. "If he has the range, it could be a good idea. Besides, of course, the obvious problem with keeping uninformed students in a mental link with people they aren't supposed to know exist."

"Can we communicate directly with the fleet officers before they appear on the sim?" she asks, her mind racing. "Do they even know who's commanding them? How much risk is there of a ship going rogue and just not responding to our controls in the middle of a battle because its pilot thinks we're being idiots?"

"No more risk than there is in any military operation," he says. "Which is damn little. What would you want to say to the fleet officers before they appear on the sim?"

"It's not zero, sir, this operation in particular has already had a problem with getting orders obeyed. As for what to say - Hey, have any of your ships been slightly damaged by space dust? Are all your FTL communicators working normally? Are any of your crews suffering from morale problems that could make them move slower or contradict orders? Do you know more about the terrain than we do, do you have any bright ideas? Who's been in space for forty years and has a baby on board by now, we can put them in the back!"

"Graduates of the I.F. apparently invite sixteen-year-old boys who have recently thrown hissy fits to command distant fleets without telling him that those fleets are anything more significant than virtual toys until after he's already fought one."

"Unfortunately," he says, "we can't change the schedule of the battles. The fleets arrive when they arrive. Hissy fit included, your friend with you as backup was still our best bet."

"Okay. But - we're not buggers, sir, we can use the brains on those ships if you let us talk to them, we can subdivide more and give them their own missions so we're not spread so thin, Sue can link a lot more than eight people if he can reach that far, and I don't share your opinion of their uniform machinelike adherence to their orders regardless of morale anyway."

"Your simulators can also take direct control of their ships," he says. "You only have to worry about them disobeying verbal orders. And I still don't think you need to worry about them disobeying verbal orders."

"Are you actually unconvinced of the usefulness of communicating with them, sir, or are you just not allowed to let me and you're hoping I'll agree with you before you have to tell me flat no so I don't show up to the next battle disgruntled?"

"I'm unconvinced of the usefulness of communicating with them and not looking forward to arranging it if you somehow convince me," he says. "The simulator system is very well designed, and it's not designed for the kind of communication you're thinking about."

"But when we do issue verbal orders, human beings hear them, it's not a sophisticated natural language processor," she says. "Okay. That's useful."

"Yes," he says. "Sure."

"I'd like it in writing that I solicited permission to talk to the fleet officers, sir, and that you denied it, in case something comes up that could have been mitigated with such communication channels," Aegis says, suddenly bright.

"I'd like you to go away," he says dryly.

"Sir," says Aegis cheerfully, "it's an IF bylaw that you must reproduce any orders that are not urgent on a scale of minutes in writing on request."

"Kid," he says, "if we do something wrong here, the material consequence will be the buggers killing us all. That's enough to keep me up at night already. I'm not interested in your power plays."

"I'm not making a power play, sir. I've stopped arguing with you entirely about the object level. If you're wrong, but not so wrong for the situation to be irrecoverable, and you get fired, I want whoever replaces you to have a paper trail that shows that I have historically not been an idiot and should be listened to in any future matters that may come up, so that we can not die."

"I'm not going to get fired."

"I'm sure you think so, sir. I'd like the refusal in writing anyway, and I am entitled to it anyway."

"And you're not getting it," he says. "Anything else?"

"Sir, it is now abundantly clear to me that you and others who are in miscellaneous positions as my superior officers are willing to break international and military law in order to get me and Sue to do what you want. Why should I believe that fleets of soldiers who have been en route for however many years of subjective time will not decide to do the same thing, if ordered into a position that's not immediately, visibly valuable by someone whose voice clearly signifies that we're half their age?"

"Because you are their superior officer," he suggests. "And the entire premise of the IF school system is that being half their age doesn't make you any worse of a commander."

"There have got to be hundreds of people in some of these fleets, any of whom could throw an operation off if they so chose, and all of them belong to a species that produced, for example, Sue. I am not convinced, sir, that the laws governing following lawful orders will hold up any better than the laws governing requisition of written copies, if we find that we have to order some fraction of a fleet into a suicide mission, or if one of us makes a mistake and is heard to say something inopportune by the survivors, or if someone has, as I suggested earlier, a baby on board - those little birth control chips are very effective, but statistically stranger things have happened. If I am not a worse commander because I am fifteen years old, sir - if I and Sue, and not you, are the correct choice for commanding our actual invasion fleet - then I want every resource I can think of to requisition, before I need it so it's there if and when I do, and if you get in my way, sir, then I want you to take responsibility for that choice, obey the law, and write it the fuck down just so you're clear on what you are doing. I have not been just some fifteen-year-old student who should be denied things by default since I was sat down in front of instruments that controlled real ships against live, unfriendly fire."

"You can't have it in writing because it's not an order," he says tiredly. "I don't need to order you not to establish contact with the fleets outside the simulator, because the only means you have of doing that is your friend Sue, who clearly doesn't give a rat's ass what he's been ordered to do. If I wanted to facilitate that contact through something resembling an official channel, then I'd have to start giving orders. And then you could experience the tedium of ansible communications with a ship in relativistic transit for yourself."

"There is precedent for applying the bylaw to requisition denials, sir."

"You are trying to requisition something that is not available to you," he says. "Your buddy has been known to requisition Mazer Rackham's balls on a plate, and I'm not legally obliged to give that denial in writing, either, although I'm sometimes tempted to."

"...Mazer Rackham? The old guy is Mazer fucking Rackham? What'd you do, put him in a ship and speed him up and turn him around just so he could abuse a new generation of students? He shot the right target one time and this makes him worth dilating into the future for his shit teaching skills?"

"He does understand the buggers better than anyone else alive."

"And instead of having him write his insights down or teach a formal class on the subject you have him pick physical altercations with would-be commanders and interrupt their sleep because that will somehow help."

"He's very attached to this 'learn from your enemy' plan," he sighs. "But it doesn't seem to be working out as expected."

"No shit. Can we be rid of him, sir? I'm sorry he's had to do all this time-travel crap only to be worse than useless, but that doesn't make him not worse than useless to us now."

He waves a hand dismissively. "Fine. He does have useful insights about the buggers, though. I suggest you try to pry them out of him."

"I'd like to assign Ahmed to talk to him about that; I think he'll do a better job than either I or Sue at maximizing useful insights to pointless antagonistic crap, given that Rackham has now positioned himself to personally star in my and Sue's nightmares both."

"Fine," he repeats.

"Permission to go break the news to Sue and discuss possible ways of telling the subordinates and linking up with the fleets, sir?"

"Go ahead."

She goes back to her-and-Sue's room.

"What's up?" says Sue.

"You might wanna sit down," Aegis says.

"...What's up?" he repeats, not sitting down.

"Okay, let's start with the smaller revelations and work our way up and see if you wanna sit down. Nasty old fart is Mazer Rackham. They accelerated him and spun him around and brought him back specifically to teach you or whoever wound up with your job about the buggers."

"Great fucking job he's doing there," Sue snorts.

"I know, right? We're shut of him, I'm going to get Ahmed to talk to him about buggers in case he knows anything actually useful. Second revelation: faster-than-light communication exists."