by E J Randolph
I smiled at him. “This is my first day here. Tomorrow I check in with the embassy, but today I’m sightseeing with the crew. Dan and I are waiting for Ricardo, our pilot, and Nick, our techie. They’re riding the roller coaster again while we wait for them here. It was a great ride, but once was enough for me.” I was talking too fast. How silly I must sound. He’s going to think I’m a blithering idiot.
He flashed me a smile that lit up his face.
I gripped my glass as another electric jolt hit me. Dan leaned back with an enigmatic smile on his face.
Pierre shifted his weight forward and cleared his throat.
I tensed with expectation and perhaps a little trepidation.
“If you have no other plans, would you like to spend some time with a lonely sailor out on the town?”
Whoa, this was going too fast. We’d hardly exchanged pleasantries let alone gotten to know one another, even a bit. I should refuse. I searched his face looking for a hint of his inner nature and bit my lower lip in indecision.
A muscle in his cheek quivered.
He was nervous. Vulnerable. “I’d be delighted.”
He smiled with pleasure... and relief.
Ricardo and Nick walked toward us. Nick waved his arms. “That’s what Central needs, a good roller coaster.”
Ricardo nodded. “A real tension reliever, don't you agree, Doc?” He caught sight of Pierre. “What’s this? Did someone send the real navy to bust the place?”
Pierre laughed. “We’re not the fun police. It’s well known that liberty for the navy is the time for all good people of a town to lock up their daughters.”
Ricardo laughed and winked at me.
I put on a demure smile. “I assure you, he’s been a perfect gentleman.”
Pierre slapped the table. “That’s right. I’m an officer and a gentleman by act of the Grand Council.”
I stood and held out my hand to Pierre. “He’s taking me out tonight.”
He smiled at me and took my extended hand.
I waved at the guys. “See ya.” I took two steps and stopped. “Oh, no! I forgot the cat. Ricardo, will you feed Shebang?”
“Go on.” He shooed me with his hands. “Whoever is on watch will get cat duty. As you know, that imperious, large feline will insist.”
~ ~ ~
I walked fast to keep up with Pierre's long strides.
He slowed and smiled at me, his eyes crinkling. “Do you think you can stand something more sedate than a roller coaster?”
I swung his hand. “Sure, what do you have in mind?”
“A replica of the world's first Ferris wheel from the Chicago Exposition of 1893.”
We passed through the throngs of people until we reached the line for the Ferris wheel. The ornately decorated cars rose and fell with an old-world majesty. I glanced at Pierre, and a glint of light on a medal on his chest caught my attention. I peered at it. The October Disturbance.
Pierre tilted his head to the top of the Ferris wheel. “I love this Ferris wheel. Sure, it’s a little kid's ride, but it’s connected to family history. Supposedly a forebear worked on the original.” He shrugged. “You know how family stories can be handed down from generation to generation. My mom told me this one, and I like the story. I hope it’s true. Working with one's hands, being a craftsman, making something real, it all sounds attractive to me. The originals were made out of wood, cast iron, and steel. Synthetics make it a lot easier to build one today.”
Our turn came, and we entered the large viewing car with forty other people. Seats perched below the windows, but like most people we stood to see the view. The wheel turned, and we glided up and over several times. At the top we had a great overview of the amusement park and the city beyond.
Pierre pointed to the modern side. “You have to try my next most favorite ride.”
The ride drew to a graceful stop, and we hopped on one of the moving sidewalks leading to the modern side. We headed to the Fun Tube, a long, two meters tall, clear plastic tube that rose, twisted, and turned with people flying about in it. When our turn came, we strapped on magnetic belts and flew down the tube with seeming weightlessness. We rose and dove as the silent electromagnetic fields pulled us up and down before flinging us along a horizontal axis.
“Whee!” I laughed hard and waggled my arms. The air currents pushed my hair back, rippled my clothes, and tickled my skin. The ride ended, and I drifted to the ground landing on my feet. “I want to do it again.”
Pierre pointed to the long line that had formed in the previous few minutes. My shoulders sagged. Students on a class outing had arrived en masse to this ride.
Pierre shrugged. “Cheer up. This is a great time to eat. I know just the place in another part of town, sort of a restaurant and night spot area.”
“Lead on. You obviously know more about Bella than I. This is my first time here.”
“My fourth time, but my second time with the whole crew. We voted this our favorite liberty port, and the commander worked it out. I’m taking you to a place with a casual atmosphere, old fashioned bands, and burgers and munchies with beer.”
“My kind of place. I’m into retro.”
~ ~ ~
We left the park though a simple gateway leading to the street and headed to the nearest underground station. Several minutes later we exited at one of the entertainment centers.
Pierre grabbed my hand, and we strode to the outdoor venue he had in mind. We stood outside the place for a few moments. The band played retro rock and roll, high energy songs. In front of the bandstand, people danced the polka, shimmy, twist, or make-up-your-own. People laughed and talked. My kind of place. I turned to Pierre and smiled. He slipped his arm around my waist, and we entered.
The bar tender waved a beefy arm at the shelves behind him. “We have bottles and cans from nearly everywhere and a beer fabricator for the rest.” He rested his large, square hands on the counter. “What will you have?”
“Newfeldt.”
He handed me one, slightly dusty from sitting a long time on his shelf.
I stared at the bottle. “It’s the real thing.” My voice was an awed whisper. I wiped the dust from the bottle. “I’ve only drunk these from a beer fabricator. This is a real treat.”
Pierre flashed me a wide smile, white teeth sparkling. He got a dark English ale, and we found an empty, outdoor table under some trees.
I pulled the top off my beer. “It won't take long on an empty stomach for me to get pleasantly tipsy.”
He smiled and stood. “Wait one.” He disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later he returned with two dishes containing fresh-baked, sliced-open bread covered with a spicy sauce of cheese, local vegetables, and sausage.
The delicious aroma swamped my nose. “Where did you get this?” I bit into the mixture before he could answer.
“I came here on my last leave. The folks in the kitchen keep a hot pot going all day and night and get in fresh bread. But it seems you have to know about it. You knock at the back kitchen door and pay with local currency. I think only the locals frequent the sub-rosa business.”
“How do you know about it?”
“A local, of course. Came with one last time.”
We ate the hot concoction with gusto and drank the beer to cool our throats. For twenty minutes, we listened to the band.
He leaned over. “Interested in an after dinner walk? See the rest of the area?”
“Sure.”
We walked around looking at the other outdoor venues and restaurant exteriors. I’d have to come back and check some of them out. We entered a park and walked down a winding path.
At a simple, wood bench, he stopped. “Want to sit a while?”
“Yes.” A tingle swept across my skin, and a couple questions zoomed across my mind like comets leaving trails of flickering lights. Would he kiss me? Did I want him to? Yes. I shivered.
We sat on the bench and looked at the stars. He took my hand, dwarfing mine in his
. Every nerve awoke and shot little tingles up my arm. We sat for a few minutes in silence.
He turned to me. “I have always enjoyed looking at the stars. I have ever since I was a kid in Canada. My family moved a lot, and the changes were hard on me. At night I would go out and look at the stars because they always stayed the same.”
I gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I understand. The first eighteen years of my life I lived cooped in a North American Midwestern Monad. To see the stars, I would go to the rooftop garden. I would dream about going to the stars someday.”
He smiled at me, the glint on his white teeth visible in the ground level lights from the path. “And you got to the stars.”
“Yeah. Didn’t know I’d have little choice.”
“Oh?”
“It’s a short story. I was too restive for Old Earth.” The stern faces of the reviewing board flashed across my mind. “Too nonconformist.”
“Encouraged to leave?”
My throat tightened. “If being chucked out is called encouraged, yeah, they encouraged me.” My voice shook. “Those that don't fit in are forced to emigrate. The powers that be on Old Earth don't want any political unrest. If you don't conform in every facet of your life, you have no choice but to leave. The hard part is Old Earth makes it impossible to come back.” My voice broke. “Even to visit family.” I blinked back tears.
He put an arm around my shoulders, and pulled me close. “The Canadian area has a lower population, so it has a little different attitude.”
“But it is Old Earth world government policy.”
He tossed an errant curl that had fallen across his eyes. “The dictates of world policy get applied with more or less enthusiasm in different places.”
“Do you ever want to go back?”
“Go back to that static, paranoid atmosphere? No way!”
“But Old Earth is still premier in science and the new technologies, especially the mental sciences. Some of the Federation colonies are so backward.”
“But progress is fast. The colonials have people like us with energy and new ideas.”
“I must admit Bellasport and the other first rank colonies do very well.”
He grabbed my hands and swung me to my feet. “Come on, I must get you back to your ship.”
We walked to the underground hand in hand, and he accompanied me all the way to Miss A. “May I see you tomorrow?”
“Certainly, but I have to go to the embassy in the morning.”
“Call me when you’re done.” He kissed me, a soft pressure on my lips. “See you tomorrow.” He brushed my ear with his lips, giving me goosebumps, and left.
The darkness swallowed him, and the sound of his footsteps faded leaving the rustle of the wind and the chirping of night insects in the woods alongside the spaceport.
I climbed the gangway into Miss A and walked down the soft, glowing passageway to my quarters. I leaned my back against the inside of my hatch and closed my eyes. My lips tingled from Pierre’s lips on mine.
“You’re home late tonight, deary.” The arch, feminine voice interrupted my musings.
“Mmm.” I kept my eyes closed.
“Begging your permission, did that kiss make you tingle all over?”
“Mmm, yes.”
“I wondered. I have watched the movies and read the books, but I wasn’t sure I understood.”
I snapped my eyes open. Of course the ship had watched us. And here she was asking me how it felt. “Miss A, you’re not supposed to watch. It’s private.”
She was silent for a moment. “You’re right of course.” Her tone was contrite.
She couldn’t turn off her sensors, but still… she didn’t have to rub my nose in it.
I lay down. Where was Shebang? I was too tired to look for her. Probably sleeping with someone else.
~ ~ ~
The next morning, I woke late and stretched. My consciousness flooded with memories of last night. I smiled, dressed, and did my usual sleepy stagger to the commons.
Something soft and warm twined around my legs. “Good morning, Shebang. It has to be sardines. I cannot take the smell of oysters, not again.”
A minute later she had her head in her bowl, and I had my hands around a strong cup of tea. I took a sip and glanced at her. “Today I check in with the embassy. Third protocol officer. That’s me. Should mean I don't have show up on a daily basis. That’s the theory.” I stirred my tea and dropped the spoon with a clatter. “But it’s me. And I’m beginning to believe that nothing goes according to plan where I’m involved.” I closed my eyes, and Meredith’s voice sounded in my head. Most of the time this kind of posting works out. Ellen’s reassuring words popped up. Who told you that ol' story? I shook my head, but my worries lingered like wisps of mist rising in warm air after a summer shower.
John walked in for breakfast. “I hear you’ve got a romance going.”
I nodded and smiled.
“Is it a secret?”
“Not much to say – yet. Had a nice time last night.”
He took a deep breath. “Hey, Kate. How to say this.” He put his hands on his hips. “I care about you. Keep in touch. Let me know your plans. Like, um, how to put this.” He raised his hands and dropped them. “Um, say you decide to spend the night somewhere.” He scratched his head. “Commo and let me know. We’re on a strange planet, and, you know, things can happen.”
“Thank you, I will.”
I walked to the food fabricator and punched in yogurt and a banana. Had to stay healthy for all the fun I was going to have. I returned to my quarters, dressed in my diplomat's uniform, and scrutinized my appearance in my mirror.
“Don't worry, honey, you look great.” The voice was soft and feminine.
I grinned. “Thank you.” Though I knew Miss A was a computer, I felt better.
“Who but a computer could be such an exacting judge?”
How’d she know what I was thinking? “Should I take your word for it?”
“Of course, you should.” Her voice purred.
~ ~ ~
I took the train downtown and walked a couple blocks to the embassy. This outpost of the Federation was located in an upscale retail and office area. No matter where located, the Federation embassy was built to the same modest plan – two stories high, relatively small building fronted by an imposing Greek revival portico complete with two fluted columns and a couple marine guards. Its building materials might vary with local conditions, but its basic appearance remained the same, and the interior conformed to a standard layout. I could always find the ambassador's office on the back wall of the lobby.
The Federation planetary members decided how much to spend on embassies. It was a good thing Old Earth also kicked in money. Its monetary contribution was part of the conflicted relationship Mother Earth had with her daughter colonies. Although solicitous of their welfare, she kept them at a long arm's length.
I presented myself to the marines and watched their eyes flick to their screens.
The one on the right greeted me. “Nice to see you, Ms Stevens.”
The front doors slid open, and I walked inside.
The receptionist smiled in a friendly way. “The ambassador is expecting you. Go ahead into his office.”
I walked to the rear office and its door slid open.
A well-dressed assistant sitting behind a desk looked up. “I’ll tell the ambassador you’re here.”
She disappeared into the rear office, and I sat. Hope this didn’t a long time. Pierre was waiting for my call. A tingle swept my body.
A few minutes later the rear office door opened, and a small group filed out. The two farmers I speculated about yesterday at the cafe led the way. Today they weren’t accompanied by a child. Two hunched, elderly gentlemen with flowing, white, patriarchal beards followed them.
The assistant came to the door and nodded toward the ambassador.
“Come in.” His loud voice boomed.
I walked in and stood in
front of a shiny, synthetic-wood desk.
“Moseley.” The large man behind the desk spoke in a full-bodied baritone and took my hand, engulfing mine.
“Stevens.”
“Sit.” His round, full cheeks quivered under tiny eyes flanking a small, beak-shaped nose sited above full lips. White hair puffed on either side of a middle part and a pointed chin completed the image of a heart-shaped valentine. Was he a good valentine or an evil one?
He studied me. A predatory gleam entered his eyes, and a self-satisfied smile spread across his face.
My stomach fell. Uh-oh! He was a bad valentine.
“Ms Stevens, I know this is supposed to be R&R for you.”
I clutched the armrests of my chair. No! I had plans for the day, He couldn’t ruin them. This was my vacation. Meredith couldn’t be right!
“You have been assigned here as third protocol officer, which normally is a superfluous position.”
My stomach sank. There went my plans for the day. Why did this sort of thing always happen to me? The next thing I’d be cleaning toilets.
He cleared his throat. “As you know, protocol officers normally deal with trade delegations.”
I nodded. This was what he wanted. Not good, but a big step above cleaning toilets.
“We’re in a little bit of a jam–”
“But of course.”
“The second protocol officer has a group that decided to stay three extra days, so there is no one to handle the most recently arrived delegation.”
I stared at him in disbelief. Handle a delegation all by myself for three days? Here? “But I’m totally ignorant of the local emporium.”
“No problem. All they need is a Federation representative to sign their contracts because they are one of our development clients. They’ve been here before, and they know where they need to go.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. I wouldn’t be asked to do something I didn’t know how to do, and, more importantly, I wouldn’t be responsible for wining and dining the group. “I can handle that.”
He clasped his hands in front of him, and his face took on a serious expression. “Their planet was settled by a generation ship.”
I understood. Their colony was settled by people who started out a couple hundred years before faster-than-light ships were developed.