by Neal Jones
"Oh really? Which team is your favorite?"
"The Blue Haven Eagles. It's my alma mater."
"Congratulations! Blue Haven's a good school. What's your degree?"
"Just an associate's in journalism. I dropped out instead of going after my bachelor's and, of course, mom was pissed. I wouldn't have gone to college at all, but it was either that or live on my own, and I couldn't pass up free rent and food. So I did the two year thing, but I didn't tell her that was all I was doing. I managed to stretch it over three years, and after the graduation ceremony was when I told her the truth."
The waiter returned just then, and Jeanette looked chagrined. "There I go babbling again. I guess I'll have the trout. With steamed vegetables and the garlic toast."
"And you, sir?"
"The filet mignon. Medium well, with the mushroom sauce and rice. And a baked potato."
"Very good. I'll be back shortly with your stuffed mushrooms."
Once they were alone, Marc sipped his water, and Jeanette took a gulp of her Pepsi. She was fidgeting again, not sure what to do with her hands once she put her glass down, but her father was feeling much more relaxed than he'd been an hour ago.
"So how long ago was it that you graduated?"
"What? Um, seven – no, eight months. I convinced mom to let me stay with her until I could track you down. She didn't want to help me at first, but I think she warmed to the idea when I told her that I might be interested in joining EarthCorps. A civilian capacity, of course. No enlisting or anything like that. Just watching somebody else do push-ups makes me sweat."
"And why did you? Track me down, I mean. Not that I'm disappointed. I'm very glad you did." Now he was the one babbling.
Jeanette laughed. "It's okay. I'm relieved – well, glad, I guess – that you're not disappointed by me. I had all these –" She suddenly realized that she wasn't answering his question. "I wanted to find you because..." She hesitated. "Ever since I was a kid, I've always wondered about you. Mom told me once that you were in the military, so I instantly got this image of you in a uniform, on a starship somewhere, and for a long time I just wondered what it was you do on a ship. That sounds kind of silly now, but for a long time that was cool. And then, as I got older, I started to ask more questions. Mom always got really defensive, and she tried to change the subject most of the time, but I persisted. When I was in high school, a friend of mine who had really good tech skills showed me how to hack into the school's computer, and but all that was in my file was your name, which I already knew. I was hoping there'd be more about you, like where you were stationed, but there wasn't.
"After that, I just kept quiet and I waited for other opportunities. Like when my mom would be at work, and I could search her room or her computer. I was really careful about doing that - searching her computer I mean – but I had learned a few tricks from her about computers and from my friend at school. But still nothing. I thought that was really weird, so I just waited till after I graduated high school, cause I figured that mom would come around sooner or later once I was on my own." Jeanette became sheepish once more as she reached for her Pepsi. "There I go again."
Marc just smiled. "It's okay. That doesn't surprise me about Laura – your mother – being defensive. Or keeping secrets for that matter. That was one thing that I never understood about her. Even when I felt like we were close, there always seemed to be a part of her that she kept hidden, like she was afraid of being too vulnerable, or too intimate." He blinked, suddenly realizing that he might have said more than was necessary or appropriate. To his relief, the waiter arrived with the plate of stuffed mushrooms, and he refilled Marc's water glass as well.
Father and daughter ate in silence for a little bit, each digesting more than just the appetizer. Jeanette started to say something, but then it looked like Marc was going to talk, and they both motioned for the other to continue.
"Go ahead," the commodore said.
Jeanette swallowed her bite of mushroom and sipped her Pepsi. She was reluctant to ask this particular question, but the conversation had gone well thus far – better than she'd expected, in fact – so now was as good a time as any. "Tell me what really happened between you and mom. All she gave me was that old line that you two just weren't meant for each other. But, obviously, there's way more to it than that."
Now it was Marc who hesitated, and this caused his daughter to add quickly, "But if you don't want, I understand. We should just take this one step at a time –"
"No, Jeanette, it's okay. That's a fair question. A pretty damn good one, actually, and to tell you the truth, I've been going over and over that for a long time." He scooped up some herb and cheese sauce from the appetizer plate and drizzled it on his pair of mushrooms. "You're right in that there's more to it, and I suppose that you could say that both of us share equal blame in the end." He chewed slowly, thoughtfully, as he sorted through his memories. "When I met your mother, she was... vibrant. That's the only way I can think to describe her. Our first few dates were limited because I couldn't go far from the academy campus, but it didn't matter where we went or what we had for dinner because your mother was – and probably still is – an experienced conversationalist. She could make any subject exciting, and I loved just sitting back and listening to her babble about a tech assignment or her family or her classmates."
Jeanette nodded. "That's definitely mom. She's always been the life of the party."
"Yes, exactly. But I never was, and maybe that was one of the differences that eventually got in the way of our relationship. Your mother never stayed home. She was always in class, or at the bar, or at the park, or out shopping, or at a party – but never home except to sleep and change clothes. And that's not an exaggeration. I didn't mind it at first, but after awhile it got to be exhausting, and even when I tried to arrange romantic evenings at my apartment, just the two of us, she still seemed...anxious. As if being alone, one on one, was too overwhelming." He pushed away his plate and reached for his water. "Not that she didn't enjoy our alone time, but..." He shook his head. "I don't know. There were times I felt like I knew Laura, knew who she was, knew everything about her. And then other times when..." He frowned, not sure if what he was saying was making sense.
"When she'd cut you out, or make you feel like you were intruding on her world."
Marc nodded. "Yes, that sounds about right."
Jeanette's expression turned rueful. "There were times when I wondered if mom was dating somebody she didn't want me to meet, or if she was suffering from some kind of mental disorder. Turns out that when she gets focused on her work, that's all she has time for. Even to the point of neglecting friends and family. I finally decided that was just her way."
"Yes, that's probably true," Marc echoed. He was lost in thought, staring at the bread basket, remembering an argument that had erupted over Laura's last minute cancellation of a date because she'd almost failed one of her semester finals. That was about the time Marc had decided she was cheating on him with one of her fellow students. She wasn't – not at that time - but her persistent unwillingness to open up to him, to share something as simple as her frustration and anger at having nearly failed an exam, was enough to drive Marc away.
But not for long. They could never remain apart for too long.
"Commodore?"
Jeanette's voice cut through his reverie, and Marc blinked. "Sorry. Memory lane can be very...distracting. And call me Marc."
His daughter smiled and nodded, and the waiter approached their table with their entrées. There was another few minutes of silence after he left, as Marc and Jeanette started eating. The commodore used the natural lull in the conversation kick himself for that cheesy line about memory lane. He felt as if he was on stage, trying to remember his lines and not fuck up his performance. The last time he'd been like this was when he'd sat before a review board prior to his promotion to captain.
Jeanette was wondering what would happen after dinner, after tonight. She only had e
nough money to stay on Exxar-One for a month, and her mother had made it clear that she wouldn't support Jeanette any longer if she wasn't going to stay in school. There was a couple job openings back home, but from the little she'd seen of the station earlier today, she wanted to stay here for more than a month. She'd never lived on a starbase before, and on Exxar-One's promenade alone there was enough nooks and corners to occupy her for weeks. Jeanette loved to shop for the exotic and the unusual, and starbases on the frontier like this one were rife with trinkets and souvenirs brought back by explorers from the outer rim.
And now that she'd met her father, Jeanette wanted to get to know him more. So far, he was everything she'd expected, and she wanted to hear more about his career, maybe even a few war stories if he was willing to tell them. Sitting across the table from her was piece of her life that had been missing from the beginning, a part of her past that she'd been ruminating about for several years now. She had twenty-three years to get caught up on, and she needed more than a month to do that.
"So why did you pick journalism as a major?"
Jeanette quickly swallowed her bite of trout, caught off guard by the interruption. "I like to write, mainly non-fiction, and I thought journalism would open the door to jobs that would let me write people profiles and stuff like that. Or about places like Exxar-One."
"That sounds exciting. And there's plenty that could be said about this place."
"I know! I took the official tour yesterday morning, and I spent all day today on the promenade. I spent way more than I should have. But there's one thing that's really driving me crazy, and it took me a long time to fall asleep last night because of it."
"What's that?"
"The hum. That humming in the walls, or the floor or the ceiling - I can't tell which. Maybe I just have hypersensitive hearing, but it's like...buzzing. I finally pulled up some light jazz from the computer's library to help me fall asleep."
It took a minute for Marc to figure out what Jeanette was talking about. He chuckled and nodded. "It's the power relay conduits. It took me a few months on my first starship assignment before I learned to tune it out. There is a setting on your computer terminal for white noise. It'll block out that humming. Look under the Accessories menu on the primary screen."
"Thanks. I'll do that." Jeanette motioned to the waiter to refill her Pepsi. "Tell me about your first assignment."
For the rest of dinner and through the dessert course, the conversation moved easily, meandering and weaving like stardust drifting through the anyon particle wake of a passing ship. Marc regaled his daughter with the mundane adventures of charting new systems, making first contact with lifeforms that were only slightly exotic, and a couple stories from his service during the war.
Jeanette told her father about school, about growing up on Mars, and her last serious boyfriend. "Mom didn't like him, and that was good enough for me. He was the star forward of the Eagles and three years older than me. It was my freshman year, and I was trying to rebel. Thank god that phase didn't last very long. Mom was right about him, of course, but don't tell her I said that."
Marc smiled and nodded as he scooped up the last bite of his cheesecake. "It sounds like she's very protective."
"Yeah, she is." Jeanette glanced around the restaurant and noticed that almost all the other tables were empty. A trio of busboys were removing the tablecloths and centerpieces from the tables that had already been cleaned. "I think it's time to go."
Marc glanced at his commlink and was stunned by how late it was. He and Jeanette had been having dinner for almost four hours. "Yes, you're right. Do you want a to-go box for your cake?"
"No thanks. It's not as good as I expected. How was your cheesecake?"
"It was good." Marc slid is credit card into the compad's slot to pay for the bill and then stood. "Have you been to the observation dome?"
Jeanette shook her head.
"Then let's take a walk."
Just as he'd expected, his daughter was made speechless by the view from the dome. She stood at the glass for several minutes, her hands pressed against it, her eyes wide with wonder and rapture.
"This is astounding," Jeanette said at last. "How can you not come here every day?"
Marc snickered. "I try. But usually I'm so exhausted from work that I just want to get home. Plus, you kind of get used to the view after awhile so it loses its novelty."
"Oh, I would never get tired of this!"
While Jeanette watched a cargo frigate complete its docking procedure, Marc stood back and observed her youthful enthusiasm. He still felt as he had at the beginning of the evening: not quite able to believe that he had a daughter. This was his daughter.
He had a family.
When Marc had first been reunited with Mariah five months ago, he'd been desperate to spark a romantic relationship with her, but one of the unspoken issues between them was his unwillingness to be a father figure to Josh. He wasn't a family man, and they both knew it.
But now, standing in front of him, was his daughter. And after the long, enlightening, and pleasant conversation he'd just had with her, he was wondering about what might have been. What if he'd given up his career in EarthCorps to follow Laura to Mars? What if she'd never rejected his proposal? Would civilian life with a family have been better instead of the military career he'd chosen?
Suddenly Marc felt more uncomfortable than he had all night. He coughed, cleared his throat, and stepped forward to interrupt his daughter's moment of awe. "It's late, Jeanette, and I have an early staff briefing in the morning."
"Yes. Of course. I'm sorry. I've monopolized your whole evening."
"Not at all. I've had a very pleasant time, and I'm glad that we met."
She smiled, and she looked so much like her mother that it made Marc's chest ache.
He forced a smile of his own. "Stay as long as you want. You're right about this view."
"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow? Or sometime in the next few days?"
"Sure. Maybe on our next dinner we include your mother."
Jeanette laughed. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea."
"Goodnight, Jeanette."
"Goodnight...dad."
Marc's smile became even more forced, and he nodded before turning to enter the PTL. Once the doors were closed, he sighed and leaned against the wall. The collar of his shirt was itching, and he desperately needed a scotch on the rocks.
He wasn't going to be getting a lot of sleep tonight.
( 3 )
Erengaar Valayne, fourth of his name and lord emperor of the Jha'Drok Emperium, rested his elbows on his desk, placed his head in his hands, and sighed. It was almost an hour after midnight, and while he refused to give in to exhaustion, his appearance was looking more and more haggard with each passing day. The last several weeks had been nothing but stressful, starting with the ongoing investigation of the Drigald by the Talik'Jhor. Multiple arrests followed by public trials and executions had succeeded in restoring a healthy fear of the State in the hearts and minds of the Emperium's general population, but it was just a stopgap measure. The Drigald had only been driven deeper underground, and they were rapidly spreading their cancerous roots to every corner of the empire. For every five arrests, there was ten more that got away, slithering and scurrying into the shadows like poisonous fire snakes.
All of that had been started, of course, by the destruction of the assault legion three standard months ago. Despite all of the arrests and the prolonged, torturous interrogations, Senator Nejra and his wife were still missing, and the Drigald were proudly taking responsibility for the largest act of military sabotage in the Emperium's modern history. One of Erengaar's first actions had been to contact Mister Vuil'SN, the Ko'Mar Collective's humanoid representative, but in those three months there had been no response to the lord emperor's summons. Erengaar had sent a "request" every two weeks, and that was as far as he dared to go. Aside from the fact that there was no other way to contact the Collective except for
a coded message on a specific channel, Erengaar was more than a little fearful to press his luck where the Ko'Mar were concerned. (He didn't dare admit that to anyone but himself, of course.)
But after three months with nothing but silence for reply, the lord emperor was getting more and more impatient. Rebuilding the assault legion was out of the question, primarily due to a lack of funds and manpower. The loss of life in that disaster had been catastrophic, and there was barely enough left in the empire's treasury to sustain the civilian industries, much less the military. The immediate solution was to raise taxes, an act that Erengaar and the Senate had passed in their first session after his ascension to the throne. For all of their propaganda, the Drigald had been unable to compete with the power of the Talik'Jhor's PR machine, and most of the Jha'Drok people had willingly accepted the new tax rate.
But the need for a long term solution remained. One way or another, the conquering of the Federation and its non-aligned neighbors was going to happen within Erengaar's reign, and the lord emperor had ordered First Lovar Ryomekk, head of the Talik'Jhor, to seek out alternative options to the Senate's meager proposals. The Emperium was caught in a very weak position, and it had no alliances with other galactic powers. That was the option that Ryomekk was exploring, while the Senate contented itself with trying to solve the empire's problems without outside aid.
As if all of that weren't headache enough, Erengaar still wasn't a father, and it wasn't for lack of trying. He and Larewyn made love almost every night, and Doctor Rimshar had assured the royal couple that both of them were quite fertile. The strange and incurable disease that had struck a third of the Emperium's female population several years ago had not been inflicted upon Larewyn, or any of the ladies of House Tannit for that matter. Yet, after three months of fucking one another in every position imaginable, the lord emperor and lady empress had yet to conceive an heir to the throne. Erengaar was growing angry and restless, and Larewyn was turning more fearful and anxious.
The lord emperor stood and paced to his liquor cabinet, which was hidden behind a wall panel next to a holo-painting of his grandfather. A stiff drink and then a tryst with one of the servant girls might finally silence his agitated mind. But just as he was about to pour the amber liquid into a crystal tumbler, a cold breath of air kissed the nape of his neck, and he was so startled that he almost dropped the glass and pitcher. Erengaar turned slowly, so as not to appear too alarmed, and he wasn't surprised to see Vuil'SN standing in the center of the office. A transfield was disappearing behind him.