Planet Pirates Omnibus

by neetha Napew

  Tee picked up her bags and hailed a groundcar. “It shouldn’t be as bad further from the spaceport. Come on.” He hurried her down the concrete ramp and into the sealed car.

  “Where are you going?” Lunzie demanded when she could speak. She blew her nose loudly into the handkerchief.

  “With you. I would not miss your family reunion for the world. I have an invitation from Melanie.”

  “What is your destination?” the robotic voice of the groundcar demanded. “With or without travel guide?” Tee reeled off an address. “What do you think, Lunzie? Do you want it to tell you about the sights we pass?”

  Lunzie peered through the windows at the unending panorama of gray buildings, gray streets, and gray air. The only colour was the clothing of the few pedestrians they passed. “I don’t think so. It all looks the same, for kilometers in every direction, and it’s so gloomy. I just want to get there and meet them. I wonder how they’ve all changed in ten years. Do you suppose there are new babies?”

  “Why not? No travel guide,” Tee ordered.

  “Acknowledged.”

  Tee chatted brightly with her as they sailed along the superhighways toward Melanie’s. Once they had disembarked from the Ban Sidhe, he was his old self, expansive and affectionate. Lunzie decided that it must be the military atmosphere of the Fleet ship which squashed his usually sunny nature. She was relieved that he was feeling better.

  It was twilight when they finally arrived. The groundcar disgorged them in suburban Shaygo, only two hundred kilometers from Alpha City. Lunzie couldn’t tell by watching when one city left off and the second one began. They had obviously grown together over the years. There was no open space, no parks, no havens for vegetation, just intertwining thoroughfares with thousands of similar podlike groundcars hurtling along them. The trail of air transports penned on the gray sky in white between the tall buildings. Lunzie found the sight depressing.

  The house, one of an attached row, sat at the top of a small yard with trees on either side of the walk leading to the door. A twinkling bunch of tiny lights next to the door read “Ingrich.” Except for the gardens, every house was identical. Melanie’s was a riot of colourful flowers and tall herbs spilling out of their beds on the trim lawn, a burst of individuality on a street of bland repetition.

  “Muhlah, I’d hate to come home drunk,” Lunzie said, looking up and down the endless row. The other side of the street was the same. Three floors of curtained windows stared blankly down on them.

  “The robot taxi would get you safely home,” Tee assured her.

  She heard noises coming from inside the house as they approached, and the door irised open suddenly. A plump woman with soft brown hair bustled out and seized each of them by the hand. Lunzie recognized her instantly. It was her granddaughter.

  “You are Lunzie, aren’t you?” The woman beamed. “I’m Melanie. Welcome, welcome, at last! And Citizen Janos. I’m so glad to see you at last.”

  “Tee,” Tee insisted, accepting a hug in his turn.

  “How wonderful to meet you at last,” Lunzie exclaimed. “I’m grateful you wanted to extend the invitation to me, after I stood you up last time.”

  “Oh, of course. We wanted to meet you. Come in. Everyone has been waiting for you.” Melanie wrapped an arm warmly around Lunzie’s waist and led her inside. Tee trailed behind, looking amused. “Mother was so disappointed that you didn’t come to our last reunion. But when we heard about the accident, we were devastated that she had left with the wrong impression. I sent a message to Eridani to let her know what happened and that you’re all right, but it’s so far away she may still be on her way there. I just have no idea! Only the gods of chaos know when the message will reach her. There’s been a lot of service interruptions lately. And no explanation from the company!”

  She led them into a well-lit room with white walls and carpets, decorated with colourful wall hangings in good artistic taste, and set about with cushiony furniture. In the middle of one wall was an electronic hearth, and in the middle of the other was a Tri-D viewing platform, surrounded by teenaged children watching a sports event. Lunzie noticed that the holographic image was purer and sharper than anything she’d ever seen before. There had obviously been strides made in image projection since she went into cold sleep.

  Two slightly built men with dark, curly hair, identical twins, and two women, all of early middle age, who had been chatting when Lunzie entered, rose from their seats and came forward.

  “Oh, what a lovely home you have,” Lunzie said, looking around approvingly. “Is this your mate?”

  The tall man sprawled on a couch set aside his personal reader and stood up to offer them a hand. “Now and forever. Dalton is my name. How do you do, ancestress?”

  “Very well, thank you,” she said, shaking hands. Dalton had a firm, smooth grip, but not at all bonecrushing, as she feared it might be after noticing the prominent tendons on his wrists. “But please, call me Lunzie.”

  “I’ll tell everyone your wishes, but Lars might not comply. He can be very stuffy and proper.”

  “I communicated with them as soon as you let us know you were here. They’ll arrive in a little while,” Melanie said busily, urging them into the middle of the common room. “Now, may I get you anything before I show you where you’re going to stay? Something to drink?”

  “Juice would be welcome. The air is ... rather thick if you’re not used to it,” Lunzie said, diplomatically.

  “Mmm. There was a smog alert today. I should have said something when you communicated with us. But we’re all used to it.” Melanie hurried away.

  “Just like her to forget the rest of the introductions,” Dalton said indulgently as his mate left the room. He embraced Lunzie, and waved a hand at the others in the room. “Everyone! This is Lunzie, here at last!” The children watching the Tri-D stood up to greet her. Lunzie smiled at them in turn, trying to identify them from the ten-year-old holos. She could account for all but two. Dalton explained, “Not all of this crowd is ours, but we get the grandchildren a lot because our house is the largest. Lunzie, please meet my sons Jai and Thad, and their mates, lonia and Chirli.” The women, one with short red tresses and one with shining pale blond hair, smiled at her. “Drew is still at work, but he’ll be joining us for dinner.”

  The twins shook hands gravely. “You look more like a sister to us than what? A great-grandmother?” one of them said.

  “You’ll have to forgive us if we occasionally slip up and don’t show the respect due your age,” the other said playfully.

  “I’ll understand,” Lunzie said, hugging them, and pulling the two women closer to include them in the embrace. The children pressed in to take their turns. There were nine of them, four girls and five boys. Lunzie could see resemblances to herself or Fiona in all of them. She was so overwhelmed with joy, she was nearly bursting inside.

  “How old are you?” asked the youngest child, a boy who seemed to be eleven or twelve Standard years of age.

  “Pedder, that’s not a polite question,” Jai’s red-headed wife said sternly,

  “Drew’s youngest,” Dalton explained in his deep voice over the heads of the throng clustered around her.

  “Sorry, Aunt lonia. I ‘pologize,” the boy muttered in a sulky voice.

  “I’m not offended,” Lunzie insisted, winning the boy’s admiration immediately. “I was born in 2755, if that’s what you mean.” “Wo-ow,” Pedder said, impressed. “That’s old. I mean, you don’t look like it.”

  “Brend and Corrin,” Dalton pointed, “are Pedder’s older brothers, and possessed, I hope, of more tact, or at least less curiosity. The eldest, Evan, isn’t here. He’s at work. Dierdre’s youngest, Anthea, is at school.”

  “Oh, I’m delighted to meet you all,” Lunzie said happily. “I’ve been replaying the holos over and over again.” She squeezed Brend’s hand and ruffled Corrin’s hair. The boys blushed red, and drew back to let the other cousins through.

  “I
’m Capella,” said an attractive girl with black hair styled in fantastic waves and loops all over her head. In Lunzie’s opinion, the girl wore too much makeup, and the LED-studded earrings on her ear-lobes were almost blinding.

  “You’ve changed since the last picture I saw of you,” Lunzie said diplomatically.

  “Oh, really,” Capella giggled. “It has to be ten years, right? I was just a microsquirt then.” Tee, standing behind Capella, smiled widely and raised his eyes heavenward. Lunzie returned his grin.

  Pedder became distracted by the Tri-D program, where it appeared that one team was about to drive a bright scarlet ball into a net past the other team’s defense. “Give it to ‘em good, Centauri! Plasmic!”

  A slim young woman with long hair in a ribbon-bound plait rose from the other side of the viewing field and made her way awkwardly over to Lunzie, holding out a hand. She was several months pregnant. “How do you do, Lunzie? I’m Rudi.”

  Lunzie greeted her warmly. “Lars’s first granddaughter. I’m delighted to meet you. When is the baby due?”

  “Oh, not soon enough,” Rudi smiled. “Two and a half months. Since it’ll be the first great-grandchild, everyone’s helping me count the days. This is Gordon. He’s shy, but he’ll get over it, since you’re family.” Lars’s only grandson was a stocky boy of eighteen whose short, spiky mouse-brown hair stuck straight out all over his fair scalp.

  Lunzie took his hand and drew him toward her to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m pleased to meet you, Gordon.” The boy reddened and withdrew his hand, grinning self-consciously.

  With the last goal, the game appeared to be over. Dalton leaned across the crowd and turned off the Tri-D field under the disappointed noses of the boys. “Enough! No more holovision. We have guests.”

  Cassia and Deram, cousins born within two days of each other, claimed the seats on either side of Lunzie, as she was settled down into the deep couch with a tall glass of fruit juice.

  “It almost makes us twins, you see, just like our fathers,” stated Deram proudly. In fact, he and Cassia did look as remarkably alike as a young man and woman could.

  “We’ve always been best friends, from birth onward,” Cassia added.

  “Ugh!” Lona, Deram’s younger sister, a lanky seventeen, settled at their feet, and shook back her long, straight black hair. “How phony. Lie, why don’t you? You fight like Tokme birds all the time.”

  “Lona, that’s not nice to say,” Cassia chided, looking nervously at Lunzie, but the teenager regarded her with unrepentant scorn.

  Of all the grandchildren, Lona looked the most like Fiona. Lunzie found herself drawn to the girl over the course of the evening feeling as though she was talking to her own long-lost daughter. It became a point of contention among the other cousins, who felt that Lona should fairly share the attention of the prized new relative.

  Lunzie overheard the whispered arguments and realized that she was near to starting off a family war. She neatly changed the subject, directing her conversation to each cousin in turn. Everyone was smiling in satisfaction when the adults arrived.

  Lars greeted her and Tee with great ceremony. “Five generations in the same house!” he exclaimed to the assembled. “Ancestress Lunzie, we are very pleased to have you among us. Welcome!”

  Lars was a stocky man who had inherited Fiona’s jaw and a smaller version of her eyes, which wore a familiar obdurate expression that Lunzie recognized as a family trait. His hair was thinning, and Lunzie estimated that he would enter into his eighth decade completely bald. His wife, Dierdre, was fashionably thin, but with a scrawny neck. She had not changed much since the first holo Lunzie had seen. Drew, Melanie’s third son, was a stockier version of his cheerful older brothers. He greeted Lunzie with a smacking kiss on the cheek.

  “We’ve also got a surprise for you,” Lars added, standing aside from the doorway to let one more man in. “Our brother Dougal arrived home for shore leave only last week.”

  Dougal was handsome. He had inherited all of Fiona’s good looks plus a gene or two from Lunzie’s maternal grandfather, who had also been tall and slim with broad shoulders. His colouring was similar to Lunzie’s: medium brown hair and green-hazel eyes, and he had her short, straight nose. His Fleet uniform was a pristine white, like Tee’s, but it bore more wrist braid, and there was a line of medals on his left breast.

  “Welcome, Lunzie. Fiona told me a lot about you. I hope this is the beginning of a long visit, and the first of many more.”

  Lunzie glanced back at Tee, who shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. There’re a few matters I might have to take care of. But I’ll stay as long as I can.”

  “Good!” Dougal wrapped her up in an embrace that made her squeak. “I’ve been looking forward to exchanging stories with you.”

  Lars started to reproach his brother, when Melanie stepped between them.

  “Dinner, boys.” She gave them a look which Lunzie could only describe as significant, and led the way to the dining room.

  “Melanie, I must say, you’ve inherited my mother’s cooking arm. That was absolutely delicious,” Lunzie said. She and Tee sat across from each other on either side of Dalton at one end of the long table. Lars sat at the other end and nodded paternally over the wine. “What spice was that in the carrot mousse? And the celeriac and herb soup was just delightful.”

  Melanie glowed at Lunzie’s praise. “I usually say the recipes are a family secret but I couldn’t keep them from you, could I?”

  “I hope not. Truly, I’d love to take a look at your recipe file. I can offer some of my inventions in return.”

  “Take her up on the offer,” Tee put in, gesturing with his spoon. “Do not let her change her mind, Melanie. Lunzie is a superb cook. As for me, I have been eating synthetic Fleet food for many years now, and this is like a divine blessing.”

  “I know what you mean, brother,” Dougal said, noisily scraping the last of the spiced cheese and bean dish out onto his plate. “Depending on how long a ship is in space, the crew forget first the love they left behind them, then fresh air, then food. Between crises, I dream about good meals, especially my sister’s cooking.”

  “Thank you, Dougal,” Melanie acknowledged prettily. “It’s always nice to have you home.”

  “I made dessert,” Lona answered, getting up to clear the plates. “Is anyone ready for it yet?”

  Pedder and his brothers chorused, “Yes,” and sat up straight hopefully, but their mother shook her head at them. They sighed deeply, and relaxed back into their seats.

  “We’ll have dessert in the common room, shall we, Lona?” Melanie suggested, getting up to clear away the dishes.

  “All right. Good idea,” Lona agreed. “That way I can display everything artistically.”

  “Aw, who cares?” Corrin said rudely, pushing back. “It all gets chewed up and swallowed anyway.”

  “Fall into a black hole!” Lona swung at him with an empty casserole dish, but he evaded her, and fled into the common room. Lona threw a sneer after him and continued stacking plates. Lunzie automatically got up and began helping to clear away.

  “Oh, no, Lunzie,” Lars reproved her. “Please. You’re a guest. Come with me and sit down. Let the hosts clean up. I’ve been waiting to hear about your adventures.” He tucked Lunzie’s arm under his own and propelled her into the common room.

  “Dessert!” Lona called, pushing a hover-tray into the middle of the room.

  The supports of the cart hung six inches above the carpet until Lona hit a control, when it lowered itself gently to the ground.

  “There.” Melanie hurried around the tray, setting serving utensils and stacks of napkins along the sides. “It’s beautiful, darling.”

  Rescued from Lars’s relentless interrogation, Lunzie immediately stood up to inspect the contents of the tray. Lona had prepared tiny fruit tarts in a rainbow of colours. They were arranged in a spray which was half-curled around three dishes of rich creams. “Good heavens, what gracious bo
unty. It looks like Carmen Miranda’s hat!”

  “Who?” Melanie asked blankly.

  “Why, uh . . .” Lunzie had to stop herself from saying someone your age would surely remember Carmen Miranda. “Oh, ancient history. A woman who became famous for wearing fruit on her head. She was in the old two-D pictures that Fiona and I used to watch together.”

  “That’s dumb,” opined Pedder. “Wearing fruit on your head.”

  “Oh, we don’t watch two-D. Flatscreen pictures don’t have enough life in them,” Melanie explained. “I prefer holovision every time.”

  “There are some great classics in two-D. I always felt it was like reading a book with pictures substituted for words,” Lunzie said. “Especially the very ancient monochrome two-Ds. Easy once you get used to it.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, I don’t read much, either. I don’t have time for it,” Melanie laughed lightly. “I have such a busy schedule. Here, everyone gather around, and I’ll serve. Lunzie, you must try this green fruit. The toppings are sweet apricot, sour cherry, and chocolate. Lona made the pastry cream herself. It is marvellous.”

  The dessert was indeed delicious, and the boys made sure that leftovers wouldn’t be a problem. They were looking for more when the empty cart was driven back to the food preparation room. Lona was given a round of applause by her happily sated cousins.

  “Truly artistic, in every sense of the word,” Dougal praised her. “That will fuel food dreams for me for the entire next tour. You’re getting to be as good a cook as your grandmother.”

  Lona preened, looking pleased. “Thanks, Uncle Dougal.”

  “Oh, don’t call me a grandmother,” Melanie pleaded, brushing at invisible crumbs on her skirt. “It makes me feel so old.”

  “And think of how it would make Lunzie feel,” Lars said, with more truth than tact. Lunzie shot him a sharp look, but he seemed oblivious. “How are things at the factory?” Drew asked Lars, settling back with a glass of wine.