Free Captain by Phil Geusz

delighted when I gave him the grand tour.
     
    "This is wonderful, David!" he gushed, looking around at all the flowers and greenery and neat, well-maintained little houses. "Simply wonderful! And you say that the entire staff is made up of Rabbits?"
     
    I smiled back and explained about how I'd been unable to hire a human to oversee things. "We still can't find a willing human; my chief-of-staff Nestor is in terrible need of an assistant and we haven't a single qualified applicant. But as you can see, it's mostly worked out well so far. With all the Zombie Station and Richard bunnies building their own places and having families, well… It's turning into a little Rabbit Town, just like back home on Marcus Prime. Plus we're accepting any other manumitted Rabbits who can get here, at least until things start getting crowded." The Professor was an avid abolitionist, I'd been unsurprised to learn after graduating, and since instructing me he'd taken an active interest in the difficulties of introducing Rabbits into society as equals. Every Tuesday and Thursday he ran an off-campus literacy class for the various slave-species.
     
    He shook his head. "It's very nice, David—I'll certainly grant you that. Nor can I imagine how you could've accomplished anything more under the circumstances. Certainly it's better than anything you Rabbits ever had before. But it's still essentially a ghetto, no matter how pleasant. Not true integration."
     
    "One step at a time, Professor," I replied. "That's all anyone can take. One step at a time."
     
    It was also inevitable that the subject of His Majesty's health would come up during the Professor's visit; had it not I'd have made it a point to raise the matter. King Alfred had been an avid reader of my former instructor's books on strategy; indeed, he'd been fond of quoting them at the slightest provocation. "Have you been to his bedside yet?" I asked, after we'd discussed the latest dismal update on his health.
     
    "No," the Professor replied. "They won't allow me in."
     
    I shook my head. It was, we both knew, because he was a commoner. Which His Majesty would've hated. "I'll fix that first thing tomorrow," I promised. "If it's the last thing I do. I know a Herald that I'm sure will see things our way."
     
    "Thank you," he replied, with a slight bow. "It'd mean a lot to me, David."
     
    I nodded and chewed on my lima beans for moment before replying. "Did you ever write each other?" I asked.
     
    His face lit up. "Oh, yes! We corresponded extensively on every single book I ever wrote. Though he had to go back and search out the earlier ones. His observations were very acute. In fact, a lot of them tended to find their way into the next book." He sighed and shook his head. "He'd have made a fine general."
     
    I nodded. "So, you were in regular contact?"
     
    "Fairly," he answered. Then he shifted awkwardly in his seat. "David… Some of our correspondence was of a classified nature. I know that you're a serving officer, but I've sworn to discuss it with no one in detail."
     
    My head tilted. His Majesty had often angered the military professionals, I knew, by ignoring their advice and doing things his own way. My own fencibles were an example of throne-driven defense policy, launched against official opposition. I'd have considered His Highness's behavior in these matters to be both irresponsible and egocentric, save for the indisputable fact that we'd finally started winning wars about the same time he'd grown so notoriously bull-headed. "What was the first book of yours he read?" I finally asked.
     
    He blushed. " No Holds Barred — A Comprehensive Guide to Hitting Your Enemy Where it Hurts . It's still my best-seller."
     
    I blinked. "That was published about fifteen years ago, wasn't it?" Just about the time His Majesty had begun rebelling against his advisors, I didn't say aloud. And the professor's appointment to the Academy to infect future officers with his own version of