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he was supposed to wear it on his wrist, where it also served as a watch – and scowled at the tiny screen. REPORT ASAP, it ordered, nothing else. At least they hadn’t used any of the code words that warned of imminent invasion or emergency services under MACA rules. The rules were clear enough; he should take a train from Topsham to the Federation Navy base at RAF Waddington, where transport would be laid on to get the Bootnecks to Luna. Being late would result in anything from a bollocking by his CO to being marked down for dereliction of duty. It might be an exercise – hell, it was   probably   an exercise – but they had to treat it as if it were real.
    “I have to go,” he said, reaching for his socks. They’d rolled under the bed in all the excitement. “Listen… you can enjoy the rest of the…”
    “Don’t be silly,” Cindy said. She was the daughter of a Royal Marine, after all, and knew what happened when duty and personal life conflicted. “Do you think I can stay here while worrying about you? I’ll speak to the owner and get them to take something off the bill before I get back to Portsmouth. Dad will want some help when everyone comes off exercise.”
    Conrad nodded, reluctantly. He’d never understood why some Bootnecks found it hard to come back to base after visiting their wives and families, until now. “Just remember not to flirt with anyone,” he teased. “You’re my wife now.”
    “I have that big poster of you up on the wall to keep them quiet,” Cindy agreed. “Don’t you worry about me. Just get back home safely and I’ll see you when I see you. Email me when you have a moment, all right?”
    “All right,” Conrad said. He leaned forward to kiss her. “I’d better get over to the station now.”
    “I’ll come with you,” Cindy said. “I can kiss you on the platform until the train gets here.”
     
    * * *
     
    Archimedes Penal Colony held ten thousand human criminals, around nine thousand of them serial killers, mass murderers, paedophiles and terrorists. No civilian was sent to the Penal Colony unless they had been sentenced to life imprisonment, without hope of having their sentences cut short. Volunteer convicts performed dangerous tasks on the Luna surface, in exchange for better food and drink, but none of them would ever be allowed to escape. There were no spacesuits or pressurized vehicles in the colony to provide safety from the airless vacuum outside. A convict who opened one of the airlocks would merely be committing suicide.
    The remaining prisoners were military personnel who had committed offenses severe enough to justify incarceration, although most of them weren't sentenced to life imprisonment and were kept separate from the general population. Their crimes tended to range from minor, but persistent misbehaviour to more serious offences, ones that merited more punishment than receiving a Bad Conduct Discharge. The Federation Navy had largely copied the Uniform Code of Military Justice from the United States, although there were some minor additions from other countries.
    From above, there was little to see as the flitter dropped down towards the mounds of lunar rock that had been piled over the dome to provide some protection from solar radiation. Joshua had spent the time reviewing the files Admiral Sampson had given him, looking for military prisoners who might be interested in serving with the small squadron under his command. He had never had any formal military training, but he did have experience with selecting and recruiting crew for his ships. Some of the personnel were beyond redemption, others were clearly unsuited to the mission, but the remainder… most of them might be usable. Their files agreed that they had potential; they’d just never made use of it, or they’d abused it. The Supply Officer who’d gamed the system to ensure that his ship received the latest updates before anyone else was particularly interesting. Someone with that