The Stars Came Back

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The Stars Came Back Page 17

by Rolf Nelson


  INSET - The bowl in front of Bipasha is wide and shallow, with a wonderful layout of rice and brilliantly colored meat and veggies and a trio of round balls, all covered with a thick sauce, with steam rising. It looks both elegantly presented and delicious.

  Bipasha looks at it in surprise, then at Helton. She leans forward and inhales carefully, eyes closed, and a smile grows on her face. She takes the proffered fork and takes a bite, savoring it.

  Bipasha: Oh, this is excellent!

  Harbin: Kwon is good, he figured you’d like the lamb etouffee with matzo balls. We have that going for us.

  Bipasha: That’s one thing. Just one. (Takes another bite) Wow. He should open a restaurant.

  Helton: Surely there is-

  Bipasha shakes her head, cutting him off.

  Bipasha: Uncle Harbin said you needed help with your business, and I can see why.

  Helton: I didn’t know I was running a business.

  Bipasha: Exactly! You have lots of ideas-

  Helton: Hey, my ideas are good!

  Bipasha: The ideas are OK, but the numbers aren’t. Just running some estimates in my head, looking at what you have shown me so far, it won’t work.

  Helton: (Defensively) What do you mean, won’t work?

  Bipasha: Your passenger accommodations are fit only for troops or indigent refugees. Your cargo space is limited and you have no automated cargo handling, it doesn’t fit standard container sizes, and it’s not set up for bulk cargo. Your engines are old and inefficient, even if you can get them working. You are carting around more extra mass than any other ship with ten times the cubes. The numbers don’t work.

  Helton: But there must be some way-

  Bipasha: For cargo, you’d have to charge much more than the going tonnage rate just for fuel, and you’d need handlers. For passengers, they’d have to be pretty desperate to want to space on this beast-

  Helton: (Defensively) HEY!

  Bipasha: -even if the food is great… Can Kwon do this in deep space?

  Helton: I don’t know. I assume so. Why, what difference does space make in cooking?

  Bipasha:… Of course it makes a difference! There isn’t fresh stuff from the corner market when you are two weeks out on the three week trip.

  Helton: Oh. Yeah. Right.

  Bipasha: Is the galley set up for fresh only, prep-packs, T-rats, dry bulk scratch, or what?

  Helton: (Frowning, looking thoughtful) I… don’t know, exactly.

  Bipasha: (Suspiciously) Is your water system tankage, full recycle, hybrid, or shore supply only?

  Helton: I, uh, well…

  Harbin walks in with a mug of coffee and sits down as they talk.

  Bipasha: How much fuel will this take for daily space operations, and what kinds?

  Helton: Stenson said that he’d have a better handle on that once the main generators are online.

  Bipasha: Laundry? Detergent or recoverable enzyme?

  Helton: Ah, I…

  Bipasha: Carbon Recovery Unit? Full regenerative scrubbing, TDP and manufacture, or just a simple chem-scrubbing system?

  Helton looks at her in mute admission of lack of any detailed knowledge on the topic.

  Bipasha: Good God! Not only do you not know what you need, you really don’t even know what you have. And how, exactly, do you expect to make money, with no idea of costs or services you can provide?

  Helton looks back at her stare with an apologetic expression and a shrug.

  Harbin: You said you wanted excitement and decision making.

  Helton and Bipasha both glare at him.

  Helton: If all you are going to do is talk down my ship, I’m not so sure I want to hire you.

  Bipasha: If all you can see is light and roses, I’m going to prove you wrong.

  Harbin: Well. I’m glad to see you two getting along so well. I think I’ll go check on something urgent while you two hash out the details.

  Harbin stands up and heads for the hatchway. Arms crossed and body language defensive, they glare at his back, then at each other.

  FADE TO BLACK

  Four Rules

  FADE IN

  INT - DAY - Cargo bay

  CPL Kaminski sits on the cargo deck cleaning his rifle with a dozen recruits around him doing the same. Quinn watches from the side with fascination.

  Quinn: Can you teach me to shoot, Mr. Ski?

  Kaminski: Sure. When you are a little bit older.

  Quinn: But I can pick up a gun now.

  Kaminski: There’s more to shooting than just picking it up, you know.

  Quinn: I know. You have to aim, too.

  Kaminski: That is important, but you have to know what not to do as well.

  Quinn: Like when you yell at them to not point it at you on accident?

  Kaminski: Yes! Exactly like that.

  Quinn: Please?

  Kaminski: Tell you what. If Allonia says OK and is willing to join us, I’ll see if I can find a good time for a little one-on-two training, and let you take a few shots if you prove you’re safe. How ‘bout that?

  Quinn: SHINY!

  Quinn jumps up, and runs off.

  Darch: That’s one way to get some one-on-one time with the cutest bed-warmer on board! I’d let her handle my gun any time!

  Kaminski: Put a sock in it, recruit.

  Darch: Besides, girls don’t need to know how to fight like real men.

  Horkle: How would you know?

  Kaminski: You have a lot to learn about people. And you’d best watch what you say about her.

  Darch: Even if you’re pulling rank for off-duty fun?

  Kaminski: Unless you want a lot of pushups…

  Darch: OK, OK, shutting up already.

  DISSOLVE TO

  EXT - EVENING - Target range

  Two silhouette targets 3 meters apart stand at the foot of the berm. CPL Kaminski faces Allonia, who is standing casually dressed in comfy, layered, protective clothes, and Quinn, in Allonia’s homemade uniform, standing at his version of parade rest.

  Kaminski: OK. Rules again?

  Allonia: Finger off the trigger-

  Quinn: (Making a gun shape with his hands) Until you are ready to shoot! Pew-pew!

  Allonia: Point it in a safe direction-

  Quinn: Like a bad guy! Pew-pew-pew!

  Allonia: Unloaded until you are ready to use it-

  Kaminski: (Cutting off Quinn, firmly) This is serious. Play it straight or you don’t get to shoot. Clear?

  Quinn: …What if you don’t know you are going to need it all of a sudden, Mr. Ski?

  Kaminski: …Great question! For you, because you won’t be carrying for self defense or going on patrol for a few more years yet, the answer is only on the range firing line when a Range Officer is present; that’ll be me for now. It’s a little more complicated for me, but I have the practice. So I usually carry mine with a magazine in, but no round in the chamber, at least around here; it’s a low threat environment. So, straight up, together, like on the drive over.

  Together, with Kaminski counting on his fingers, they chant:

  Allonia and Quinn: Keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot. Keep it pointed in a safe direction. Keep it unloaded until you are ready to shoot. Know your target, and what is behind your target.

  Kaminski: Perfect. Now, you’ll need practice so you truly understand what those really mean, but that’s a good start. We don’t have a lot of time before the sun goes down, so just the basics. Do you want the 6.5mm rifle first, the carbine, or the 10mm pistol?

  DISSOLVE TO

  Series of scenes

  ● Allonia wearing eye protection, aiming a suppressed carbine. Kaminski adjusts her grip and points to her trigger finger, gently reminding her to keep it off the trigger.

  ● Kaminski getting Allonia aiming the pistol in a proper isosceles-stance shooting position, bent knees, slightly crouching. He gently pushes an elbow here, a knee there, taps her foot a bit with his to get it in just the ri
ght spot, models getting her head down low over the sights.

  ● Quinn, wearing eye protection and ear plugs awkwardly holds the carbine with Kaminski supporting it, squeezing off a single shot. Quinn looking up at Allonia with a great big smile on his face.

  ● Camera angle from slightly above and behind a target, the three people blurry in the background, with a rapid series of holes appear in a group, centered on the target, about an two inches across, then focus shifts to the people and Kaminski is seen aiming the pistol, demonstrating proper technique.

  ● Same behind target angle as another group of holes appear, somewhat slower and larger than Kaminski’s group, and the focus shifts to reveal Allonia shooting the pistol.

  ● Same behind target angle, three widely spaced but on target holes slowly appear, and when focus shifts Quinn is barely holding the carbine by himself, with Kaminski beside him, and Allonia behind with a grin. Quinn turns a bit with a huge smile to Allonia, and Kaminski gently corrects the resulting muzzle swing back onto the target.

  ● Fresh target in the stand. A pattern of a dozen buckshot-sized holes appears in it, accompanied by a deep boom, then the sound of a shotgun slide being racked, another dozen close-spaced holes appear with another boom, the slide is worked again, and then a third set of a dozen holes. Focus returns to the firing line, and Allonia is aiming a pump shotgun on the target, slightly crouching in a stance for good balance. She racks the slide to the rear, lowers it, holds it up appreciatively, and looks at the gun and target with a nod and expression of satisfaction and appreciation. Kaminski has a good laugh and claps her on the shoulder, pleased with her performance.

  DISSOLVE TO

  INT - NIGHT - Quinn’s cubby aboard the Tajemnica

  He is mounting a target with five holes (widely spaced, but one in the 10 ring) on the wall of his cubbyhole, then sitting back and looking at it proudly.

  Ship AI: (OC, friendly female voice) Very good! With practice, you’ll be doing better than most of the recruits. Now, how about you tell me the story of the Battle of Marathon, so I know you have the story right?

  Quinn: OK. A really long time ago, the Athenians and the Persians…

  FADE TO BLACK

  Mail

  FADE IN

  DAY - INT - Cargo bay

  Helton at work, leaning into a panel on the bulkhead. He stands up straight as Allonia walks up, hands him a package. In her other hand she’s got a strap around a bundle of boxes to make carrying them easier.

  Allonia: Mail call.

  Helton looks the package over, sees the Possenti Cross next to the simple return address of “Monastery, Eridani IIA.” He unseals it. Inside is a simple but elegant wooden box and a plain handwritten note. On the box top is carved, in neat calligraphic lettering, “Lost Soul.”

  INSET - Note reads “Was informed you needed these more than I - Father L”

  Allonia looks curiously as he slides the top back. Inside, nestled into a form fitted, cloth-lined spaced, are three reddish crystals that look like those from Father Libra’s desk.

  Allonia: What are those?

  Helton: Huh… crystals of some sort, I think. Odd…

  Allonia: (Indicating the note) What’s it mean?

  Helton: Dunno. (Shrug) Just one more mystery of the Monks, I guess. Must think I’m a lost soul.

  Allonia: (Joking) Kind of late to the party, but they’re welcome to join.

  Helton: Now there’s a picture.

  Allonia: Inviting Monks to a party? Not normally my first choice, but if they can dance to the tune being played, I doubt God would frown too hard.

  DISSOLVE TO

  DAY - INT - Tajemnica Galley

  Kwon and his wife, Seraphina, are discussing menus while working on sandwiches.

  Kwon: Sar, we can’t make the posole because we don’t have the red chilies, and-

  Sar: But we do have the jalapenos, so if we-

  Allonia walks in on the disagreement, carrying the boxes.

  Allonia: (With a joking smile) Meal Salvation delivery!

  Allonia hands the bundle of packages to Kwon casually.

  Kwon: Ah, my spices at last! Thank you! Now we can- UGH!

  He nearly drops them, looks at Allonia briefly in surprise. They are much heavier than they look.

  Kwon: -can make the posole properly! Hard to believe I only sent Helton out to get them a month ago.

  Sar: Ah, thanks dear. Would you be so kind as to get John for me? We have to finish this and that nice Mr. Kaminski said he was busy and couldn’t help get the washer working again.

  Allonia: It’s CORPORAL Kaminski, Sar. Sure, I’d be happy to find John. Smells good. I’ll be back later if you need a hand. A few more things to deliver.

  DISSOLVE TO

  DAY - INT - Allonia’s cabin

  She holds up a piece of dark blue fabric. Then she holds up a piece of dark red, black, and gold brocade cloth to look at the rich material in the light.

  Allonia: (Talking to herself) So, how shall we do this? Hmmmm…

  She turns it this way and that in the light for a moment, looking thoughtful.

  FADE TO BLACK

  Family

  FADE IN

  INT - NIGHT - Officers’ Mess

  Helton, Lag, Harbin, Allonia, and Sar sit around the table, chatting, having just sat down to dinner.

  Lag: The limits on the zone got extended past New Ranchi. Lots of people moving around down there.

  Sar: I heard some of the ladies in town saying that they are having a hard time contacting relatives in Korba. Something about jamming?

  Helton: I’d think a bigger worry is hacking. Losing touch with a cousin is less of a problem than crashing air traffic, or losing electronic medical support at a hospital.

  Harbin: Maybe a crashed flier makes the news, but a large number of refugees pose problems for everyone: government, military, even safe civilians in the path of refugee movement.

  Ship AI: (OC, brisk male military sounding voice) Your statements are not exclusive. Deliberate large civilian population displacement is potentially very serious.

  Lag looks up sharply at a screen. No ship avatar of any sort is present. He cocks his head slightly, looking thoughtful. There is a pause.

  Lag: Indeed. Tajemnica, whom were you responding too?

  Ship AI: (OC) Confirming their statements, based on current news and available information.

  Helton: Not being able to call Aunt Nellie isn’t likely to kill anyone, but it is worth watching. Noncombatants wandering the war zone would complicate things for you.

  Ship AI: (OC, similar brisk tone) In the third Chi-Stan war, coordinated propaganda and communications disruptions and personalized misinformation messages were used to herd masses of civilians into cities and areas along rivers, and limit lines of movement. When thirteen dams were broken in coordination and near simultaneously with conventional and kinetic strikes, the floods killed more than 125 million directly. The ensuing infrastructure and communications disruption, paranoia, famine, looting, disease, winter weather, and general disorder created a billion refugees and killed an estimated 750 million in the following three months.

  There is a long silence as the words are digested.

  Lag: Where did you get that information? That is not what most history books say.

  Another pause.

  Ship AI: (OC, flatly) That is what the accurate sources say.

  Helton: Isn’t there a dam and reservoir near Korba?

  Nothing but the clink of silverware and the sound of chewing as they variously consider the information, looking at each other trying to divine what the rest are thinking.

  Quinn comes in with his own tray, a complete place setting with a brightly colored selection of food. He sets the tray on the table next to Allonia, climbs into the seat, sits down on his heels, and starts eating like it’s the most normal thing in the world. The table conversation, already at a pause, sinks into deeper silence as they watch him.

  Helton: Yo
u’ve been spending an awful lot of time around here lately, Quinn. Doesn’t your mom wonder where you are?

  Quinn shrugs.

  Allonia: Does she know you are here?

  Quinn gives the same vacant non-answer.

  Lag: (With a sudden flash of insight) Do you know where your mom is?

  Quinn shakes his head very slightly.

  The silence is deep.

  Allonia: How long has it been since you saw her?

  Quinn gives another small shrug and head shake.

  Helton: (To the ship AI) Where are Quinn’s parents?

  Ship AI: (OC, quiet female voice) Father believed deceased. Mother’s last known location was boarding the Mockingbird on pad C6 three days ago.

  Aside from Allonia’s gasp, the silence gets deeper.

  Helton: (Very quietly and carefully) Do you have any grandparents, aunts, or uncles around here?

  Quinn shakes his head.

  Allonia: (Faltering, choking back a sudden flood of tears) Do you have any family?

  Quinn nods.

  They look at him questioningly. He looks back.

  Quinn makes a small motion indicating the room around him and the people in it.

  Allonia loses it and starts crying and while mumbling choking words of support and care, and gives him a huge hug. Sar comes over to join in having a good cry, and the others look like they are trying to avoid such a display, as they try to not look like parents with a lost puppy, themselves.

  Helton: You can stay here until we get it all sorted out, of course.

  Quinn: (Starts to become more animated) It’s OK. Ship already said I can stay!

  Lag: I know war and unrest creates orphans, but I didn’t expect any quite like this.

  Quinn: I’m not an orphan. Orphans don’t have families!

  Allonia and Sar start bawling all over again.

  Helton: Kids are tough. You’re tough. You’ll be OK.

  Harbin: (Inscrutably) He’s a little younger than normal, but I’ll see if I can work a powder monkey into the training rotation.

 

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