Redshirts

Dahl said. “There have been some changes to a few systems on board and I think it’ll be useful to have the original blueprints for compare and contrast.”
    “Okay,” Casey said. “I’ll do it when I get back to the archives. A couple of hours at least.”
    “That’s fine,” Dahl said. “Also, do me a favor and send it to this address, not my Dub U address.” He recited an alternate address, which he had created anonymously on a public provider while he was at the Academy.
    “You know I have to record the information request,” Casey said. “That includes the address to which I’m sending the information.”
    “I’m not trying to hide from the Dub U,” Dahl said. “No spy stuff, I swear.”
    “Says the man using an anonymous public hyperwave terminal to call one of his best friends, rather than routing it through his own phone,” Casey said.
    “I’m not asking you to commit treason,” Dahl said. “Cross my heart.”
    “All right,” Casey said. “We’re pals and all, but espionage isn’t in my job description.”
    “I owe you one,” Dahl said.
    “You owe me dinner,” Casey said. “The next time you’re in town. The life of an archive librarian isn’t that horribly exciting, you know. I need to live vicariously.”
    “Trust me, at this point I’m seriously considering taking up the life of a librarian myself,” Dahl said.
    “Now you’re just pandering,” Casey said. “I’ll wave you the stuff when I get in the office. Now get off the line before you don’t have any money left.”
    Dahl grinned again. “Later, Casey,” he said.
    “Later, Andy,” she said, and disconnected.
    *   *   *
    There was a guest in the suite when Dahl got there.
    “Andy, you know Lieutenant Kerensky,” Duvall said, in a curiously neutral tone of voice. She and Hester were on either side of Kerensky, who had an arm around each of them. They seemed to be propping him up.
    “Sir,” Dahl said.
    “Andy!” Kerensky said, slurringly. He disengaged from Duvall and Hester, took two stumbling steps and clapped Dahl on the shoulder with the hand that was not holding his drink. “We are on shore leave! We leave rank behind us. To you, right now, I am just Anatoly. Go on, say it.”
    “Anatoly,” Dahl said.
    “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Kerensky said. He drained his drink. “I appear to be out of a drink,” he said, and wandered off. Dahl raised an eyebrow at Duvall and Hester.
    “He spotted us just before we entered the hotel and attached himself like a leech,” Duvall said.
    “A drunken leech,” Hester said. “He was blasted before we got here.”
    “A drunken horny leech,” Duvall said. “The reason he has his arm around my shoulder is so he can grope my tit. Lieutenant or not, I’m about to kick his ass.”
    “Right now the plan is to get him drunk enough to pass out before he attempts to molest Duvall,” Hester said. “Then we dump him down a laundry chute.”
    “Shit, here he comes again,” Duvall said. Kerensky was indeed stumbling back toward the trio. His progress was more lateral than forward. He stopped to get his bearings.
    “Why don’t you leave him to me,” Dahl said.
    “Seriously?” Duvall said.
    “Sure, I’ll baby-sit him until he passes out,” Dahl said.
    “Man, I owe you a blowjob,” Duvall said.
    “What?” Dahl said.
    “What?” Hester said.
    “Sorry,” Duvall said. “In ground forces, when someone does you a favor you tell them you owe them a sex act. If it’s a little thing, it’s a handjob. Medium, blowjob. Big favor, you owe them a fuck. Force of habit. It’s just an expression.”
    “Got it,” Dahl said.
    “No actual blowjob forthcoming,” Duvall said. “To be clear.”
    “It’s the thought that counts,” Dahl said, and turned to Hester. “What about you? You want to owe me a blowjob, too?”
    “I’m thinking about it,” Hester said.
    “What’s this I hear about blowjobs ?” Kerensky said, finally wobbling up.
    “Okay, yes, one owed,” Hester said.
    “Excellent,” Dahl said. “See the two of you later, then.” Hester and Duvall backed away precipitately.
    “Where are they going?” Kerensky asked, blinking slowly.
    “They’re planning a birthday party,” Dahl said. “Why don’t you have a seat, sir.” He motioned to one of the couches in the suite.
    “Anatoly,” Kerensky said. “God, I hate it when people use rank on shore leave.” He fell heavily onto the couch, miraculously not spilling