Family Matters.
Lord and Lady Wroxham sat in front of Admiral
Croft's desk, while he read the report on them. To make it fully
clear to the admiral that they were civilians, James wore his suit
and Cynthia her dress. Captain Woods sat behind him and alternated
between a stoic indifference and baleful glare as he thought about
Cynthia.
Finally, the admiral looked up from the report and
said, “This does make it difficult.”
“What?”
He held up the top secret communication, printed
on paper and thus only available for limited distribution, and
continued, “The Cataxi have specifically asked for you,
lieutenant.”
Cynthia ignored him until he said, “My Lady. The
Cataxi have asked for you. Only you.”
“For what? I returned their stone and my husband
paid the fines.” She squeezed James' hand.
“They want you to be the Terran ambassador. It's
a several years posting.”
Cynthia looked at James and said, “I promised
Alice a ride to Mars after our honeymoon flight. I’d like to keep
that promise.” She turned back to the admiral and said, “As much
as I'm honored, and it is a real honor, I have family commitments
that must take precedence over your request. If you'll just rel-”
The admiral brought his fist down on the desk.
“You gave up your rights to any family when you enlisted as a
cadet.”
“No, my family sent me away. They were glad to
be rid of a useless girl. James, well,” she paused, “I love him
and he loves me. We're family now. His family is all the family I've
got, and I intend to keep it.”
Captain Woods smirked and said, “Sir, I think I
had best show her.”
“Show me what?”
He pressed a few commands on his controller and
the wall behind them lit up. It showed a woman facing the camera and
ready to speak. Behind her was a bright sunlit scene. Except for the
sky being a little too purple and the plants a little too green, it
could have been Earth. It was Zeta Cyngi 8, and the woman was
Cynthia's mother.
Captain Woods said, “This is a recording, of
course. It was.”
“Press play, show it!”
The woman in the picture began to speak.
“Happy 15th birthday Cynthia. I can't
believe it's been five years since you left for the academy. We miss
you and are so proud.”
Cynthia started crying. “I thought they didn't
care.” The captain stopped the message.
“That's what you were conditioned to think.”
“Are there more messages?”
“Every year. Until, well, she died. She, they,
followed your career.”
Cynthia's crying transformed into uncontrolled
weeping. James hugged her and tried to comfort her as best he could.
Captain Woods bluntly stated, “You gave that up, willingly when you
joined.” He smirked as he added, “Shall I show you the contract?”
“No. I couldn't have. You must have tricked me.
I have no.” Cynthia ran out of words, but not tears.
Both the admiral and the captain laughed. Captain
Woods smirked, “I guess you're not so invincible now are you?”
Lord Wroxham gently untangled himself from
Cynthia. He whispered to her, “This is more than enough.” Then he
rose and grabbed the captain by the front of his uniform. Pulling him
up so that the captain's face was only inches from his, he spat out,
“This is ungentlemanly behavior. I'm calling you out. That is if
you have the courage to face me.”
Cynthia stopped
weeping and looked up at James. She said, “James, No. Don't.”
“Listen my love.
There's damn all I can do in this world. You showed me enough that I
can pilot your ship, in a straight line with you by my side making
sure I don't blow it up. At least I can still defend your honor.”
Captain Woods was
speechless. So James continued, “What do you say, or are you really
a coward?”
He released the man,
who crumpled back into his seat and added, “Swords or pistols?”
Captain Woods caught
his breath and said, “Racerships, single seaters around the Orts.
We'll see who is fastest.”
“You’re on.”
Cynthia looked at
her husband, and said, “James, you can’t fly.”
“You’ll just
have to show me. I presume there’s one of those blasted AR units on
this craft.”
Captain Woods
gasped, “Surely, Lord Wroxham, you don’t, won’t do this. It’s
extremely difficult.”
“Cynthia, love,”
James continued, “How does it compare to riding a horse?”
“Once you
understand the controls, it’s easier, if anything. They won’t
balk and dump you in a stream.”
“Just make sure I
hold onto the reins?”
She laughed, “I’ll
show you.”
Captain Woods looked
askance. “What's this about reins?”
Cynthia replied,
“The first time I tried riding a horse, I dropped the reins.” She
noticed a puzzled look from both the admiral and the captain, “Those
long bits of leather that go to the bit,” she paused some more,
“Almost control the horse. Tell her what to do. She ran off with me
on her. It was dashed embarrassing.”
An hour later, James
was strapped into the AR unit and his tuition in racers started.
Cynthia watched his progress on a monitor, nervous that he should
learn, and worried that he wouldn't. It wasn't going well.
James sat, or felt
like he sat, astride a warm metal tube. In the real racer, that was
the engine. He held a stick in front of him and several gauges where
in front of his eyes as was a cross to instruct him on where he was
headed. He would push the stick forward and it would take off with a
jolt, then he'd reflexively pull back and stop. It didn't help his
confidence that he had crashed into a virtual planet almost as
quickly as he started the first several times he tried to take off.
“James, can you
hear me?”
“Cynthia?”
“I've patched into
the unit. It's going to feel weird for a second, but I'm going to
teach you directly.” He could feel the ghostly sensation of her
hands gripping his. She continued, “Put your feet in the stirrups.
Toes down. Grasp the engine with your knees.”
“What?”
The ghostly hands
pulled his legs into position. Cynthia continued, “It really is
just like riding a horse, except you use your feet on the controls.”
“I think not.”
“Yes it is. Now
let’s start. Push the bar forward.” He timidly pushed it and
jumped as the ship lurched. He wanted to pull it back, but the
ghostly hands pushed it farther ahead.
“Too fast!”
“No. Too slow.
Can’t maneuver well if you’re not moving”
“We're going to
hit that thing.”
“Push your right
foot back and pull the stick over.”
“What?”
The hands made him
do what she said, and the ship spun. He instinctively pulled the
stick to the center and returned his feet to normal. The object was
gone.
“Good. Now let's
hump this bugger. Push the stick.”
He didn't need the
hands this time. Another rock appeared in front, and Cynthia said,
“Left.”
He tried, and just
grazed the object.
Cynthia said, “Don’t
worry, a miss is as good as a mile.”
They practiced until
he was relaxed enough at the controls that he could enjoy it.
“Cynthia, love?”
“What?”
“This is fun.”
“I told you it
was. Now for some real action. Full speed ahead.”
“There's a rock.”
“Do it.”
He did.
Cynthia's voice
said, “Watch the proximity bar. When it starts to get orange, pull
back as hard as you can on the stick and put your feet forward.”
“What's going to
happen?”
She was quiet. He
followed her instructions, and the ship tumbled backward until it was
pointing away from the rock. He automatically pushed forward and the
ship accelerated.
“What now?”
Cynthia said in a
quiet voice, “Time to try for real. Take the ship back and land.
I'll meet you in the ready room.”
“Can't I just stop
now?”
“You need the
practice.”
Lord Wroxham flew
the virtual ship back into its hanger, popped the catch and stood up.
The world around him cracked apart and he was back in the AR unit.
The attendant unhooked him and said, “What now,” he gave an
exaggerated bow “My Lord?”
“Where's the ready
room?”
“Are you serious?
You can't be.”
“Of course. Can
you show me?”
“No. Next level
down, three lefts, a right and then back up.”
“Ah, right.”
James was dubious about the directions.
“Can't miss it.”
When Lord Wroxham
finally found the ready room, Cynthia was waiting for him. She was
wearing a pressure suit, it fit her body snuggly, but that was not
what he noticed. “You've cut your hair short.”
“Yes.”
“I liked it the
way it was.”
“I can grow it
back later, but short like this is what I need for the pressure
suit.” She pointed to a rack on the side of the room. “The men's
are there. Get it on.”
“Over these?”
“Take them off
first. No one but me is watching, and” she blushed, “I've seen
you. Besides, you'll need to be hooked up. It's rather personal,
intimate as it were, and I think you'd rather I showed you how to do
it than some tech you don't know.”
A quarter of an hour
later, with various catheters, tubes and bags attached, James stood
there. He was ready to put on his helmet. He said, “That was
unusual, to say the least.”
Cynthia replied,
“Once I seal you in, you'll be self-sustaining. It'll pong like all
heck after a couple of days, but you won't notice.”
“Oh.” He paused,
“Have you?” then stopped unsure of how to ask.
“Have I used one
of these for that long?”
He nodded to her.
She paused, “I
told you, or was it Alice? About fleeing Xyluberth.”
“I think so, you
said you built a ship.”
“I was in one of
these for a year. Not pleasant, but I made it.”
James looked a bit
worried. She pulled his face into hers and kissed him. “For luck,
and don't worry about it. You'll only be a couple of hours. Just
drink from the tube and try not to think about where it came from.”
“The future is
thoroughly disgusting.”
She put his helmet
on and sealed it, then hers. “Radio check.”
James jumped, “I
can hear you.”
“Excellent. Now
for a pressure check. Make sure you're sealed.”
After the checks,
they walked to the dock and boarded two racers. The dockmaster
reminded them, “You don't have enough fuel or shielding to make
planet, and the weapons are disabled. So don't try anything daft.”
“We won't.”
He gave them
clearance and they shot into the dark void of the Ort belt. The sun
was just a slightly brighter star than the rest of them. If you
didn’t look in the right place, you’d miss it.
James cautiously
pushed the stick forward, with his feet in the stirrups the way
Cynthia had shown him. He saw her waiting beside him, and heard,
“Move it, slowpoke.”
He pushed harder and
shot ahead. The real sensations weren't as jerky as the AR and he
found he reacted better in real life than he had in the simulator.
That is until the other ship bolted past him with what seemed
centimeters to spare and Cynthia laughed at him in the radio. “Come
on.”
She surged toward
one of the rocks in the cloud, then pivoted and shot back at him. It
looked like she was going to hit him dead on, then she did something
and her ship danced around his in a corkscrew. She pivoted again and
came up beside him. Waving, she said, “That was a blast. Want to
try?”
“No.”
“Yes you do.
Flying slowly in a straight line is boring. Follow me.”
She accelerated
smoothly away, slowed down to wait for him to catch up, and then
wiggled the back of her racer in his face.
He muttered under
his breath, “Bloody woman.” Then he pushed the stick to catch up.
She kept just ahead, veering in, out, up and down around the rocks
that littered their path. Then, suddenly, she was gone and there was
a large rock straight ahead of him. The proximity bar went orange,
then red, and finally he pulled back on the stick and controls to
flip direction, then pushed hard forward to get away.
“Blimey you left
that close, James.” There, ahead of him, was Cynthia.
“You're right,
love,” he said, “This is fun.” He pushed the stick and caught
up with her. “How did you do that corkscrew?”
“Right hand is
stick all the way right, pedals the other way. Left the reverse.
Shall we?”
They danced together
through the darkness until their ship's fuel monitors told them it
was time to return.
Admiral Croft and
Captain Woods had watched them practice on the scanners. As they
returned to the ship, the admiral turned to Captain Woods and said,
“Silas, are you sure you want to race him? That was damned good
flying. He'd easily rate first class as a pilot.”
Captain Woods
remembered that it took him several embarrassing tries before he
'rated' and first class rating still eluded him. “Sir, what should
I do?”
“You should
apologize. It is the gentlemanly thing to do.”
“What about
Cynthia and the Cataxi?”
“Persuasion, not
force is called for. I may boot up her companion and talk to him.”
“That program?”
“He knows her as
well as anyone who will talk to us.”
“If it's willing
to talk to you, sir. They tend to get a little stroppy and loyal to
their people.”
“We'll see. In the
meantime, Captain, please try not to get into any fights with either
her or that man.”
Captain Woods stood
and started to salute his admiral when the Cataxi engineer called the
admiral.
Admiral Croft
gulped, the Cataxi being decidedly non-humanoid, and asked what was
the trouble.
“Have you
retrieved Cynthia?”
“Yes.”
“What was going on
with those racers? We should not stay in this time long.”
“Nothing.”
The Cataxi's
carapace turned bright orange, which should have alerted Admiral
Croft to his displeasure, but didn't. The creature said, “Do not
tell me tales. There were two humans on that ship. Who is the second
human and why were they racing around outside just now?”
“Ah.” Admiral
Croft was stuck for words, but Captain Woods was able to answer.
He said, “It is
somewhat my fault. Cynthia has attached herself to a male human and”
“And you argued
with them. I fail to understand you humans.”
“It's just that we
understood you wanted only her as an ambassador.”
“They are both on
board?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” The
engineer turned away from the screen and said something in an
incomprehensible series of clicks, whistles and grunts.
The ship jerked and
a few moments later reappeared at the border of neutral interstellar
space at the correct time.
While the admiral
and his captain cleared their heads, the engineer continued. “The
council specified Cynthia. I have exchanged messages with them and we
agree to her mate accompanying her. Indeed, we insist on it. It seems
that the Xree worked on her, as we expected. When you say 'attached'
does your species physically attach like the Archex?”
“No. It's a figure
of speech.”
“Figure of speech.
I shall have to remember that.” The engineer clicked his mandibles
together, chuckling at the thought. Then he rudely shut off the
communication.
Admiral Croft glared
at his captain and said, “Insufferable creatures. The sooner we're
rid of them the better.”
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