by M. D. Cooper
“I would not! You know I like to turn the tables.” Leeroy said loudly, angling his head back so his voice carried into the cabin. “Isn’t that right, Mary?”
“Shut up and fly,” Mary shot back.
Flaherty snorted at his daughter’s response, though he couldn’t help but notice there was a small note of humor in her voice. As though she did not look on her previous romantic time with Leeroy as unfavorably as she so often claimed.
Leeroy grinned to himself, but when he saw Flaherty’s raised eyebrow, his smile faded. “Uh, OK, STC should have missed us coming out of the tunnel, so long as the maglev didn’t report us—but we were going fast, and those things don’t have scan for shit, so hopefully it didn’t identify us.”
“Gotcha. Calling into Watchtower 97’s STC,” Flaherty replied.
“Good luck.”
Flaherty opened a request channel to the Space Traffic Control tower and got an immediate response back from an NSAI.
The NSAI sounded impatient, though Flaherty suspected that all STC NSAIs were programed to sound impatient.
He chose his words carefully. He wasn’t able to lie, but he could state facts in such a way that they supported his fiction while not actually being untruths.
Shit! Flaherty thought to himself. He had hoped the NSAI wouldn’t crosscheck that.
There was no response for a minute, and then a new voice came over the channel.
A short sound of disbelief came into Flaherty’s mind.
Flaherty knew his excuses were weak, but it was the best exfiltration he’d managed to come up with, given that he’d only had a few hours’ notice. He wracked his brain for some explanation, but nothing convincing came to mind.
Not being able to lie was terribly inconvenient sometimes.
No response came from Tower Commander Amelia for a moment, then the woman burst out laughing. After a half minute, she’d calmed herself enough to reply.
Mary barked a laugh.
Commander Amelia was still laughing, and Flaherty thought he could hear other people joining in with her. The tower commander must have switched to an audible conversation on her end to share with her team.
Flaherty swallowed for effect, or maybe because all the talk of ball kicking was a bit unnerving. He noticed that Leeroy had a pained expression on his face, and a hand over his crotch.
The comm line went dead, and a moment later, the backup navigation comp—which Flaherty had activated, to honor his word—registered the incoming lane assignment.
“How’d I do?” Mary called up.
“I have a strange phantom pain,” Leeroy replied. “And I think your father has lost the power of speech, so I’d take that as a compliment.”
Mary laughed. “I’ll take that compliment. I’ll admit, Dad, it was cathartic to yell at you like that.”
Flaherty shook his head. “I’ll bet.”
FATHER KNOWS BEST?
STELLAR DATE: 03.30.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Shuttle Tiberius
REGION: Huygens System, Transcend Interstellar Alliance
Mary sucked in a sharp breath and involuntarily jerked her leg aside.
“Hold still, Mary,” her father said as he clamped his knees on either side of her leg. “Those drones must have had something on their claws, for your leg to be as sore as you say.”
“It’s not that bad,” Mary said through clenched teeth. “You really don’t need to go digging around in my thigh muscle.”
Her father looked up and his dark eyes met hers. “Mary, they could have some sort of neurotoxin that they inject, or it could just be that they stepped in rat shit. I need to clean the wounds.”
Mary considered how dank some corners of those tunnels had been, and bit her lip. “OK, do what you have to.”
Ten minutes later, he pronounced the wounds clean. There had been dirt, some pebbles, and a neurotoxin. Luckily, just a small amount. They assumed she and Figgy had knocked the drone off before it could deliver the full dose.
Even so, he had loaded her up with enough mednano to cure a civilization of the yellow death before sealing up the wounds with nuskin.
Now in the shower, she was determined to enjoy the hot spray for the full five minutes she was allotted, letting the steam seep into her skin and help clear her mind of the day’s events.
A high-speed chase out of Airtha had not been what she’d expected to do when she’d woken up….
Shit…that was yesterday! No wonder I’m so tired.
The shower signaled that her time was almost up, which gave her time to lather up before it triggered the final spray to rinse the soap away.
Mary heaved a sigh when the water flow shut off. A low, warm breeze blew across her body, drying both herself and the shower walls. A minute later, the airflow shut off, and then the and other sanitary amenities emerged from the walls.
Amongst them was the garment bag she’d placed on one of the shelves befor
e taking her shower. The pair of pants she’d worn were ruined; not only were they half blood-soaked, but her father had cut them away from her legs before cleaning her wounds. Her shirt was fine, though, and her jacket could be cleaned.
But spending the next week on a shuttle in the company of three men without pants—especially considering said men were her father, son, and former lover—was entirely out of the question.
Still, whatever shipsuit had been hanging in that cabinet from time immemorial stood a chance of being equally undesirable.
Dad…why do you always have to get mixed up in crazy stuff?
Mary unzipped the garment bag and her breath caught in surprise.
OK, this is not what I expected at all.
Five minutes later, she stepped out of the san unit feeling better than she had since their crazy adventure had begun.
She saw that Drew was asleep in one of the cabin’s reclining chairs, with Figgy draped over from the adjoining seat, his head on her son’s lap.
“Looks good on you,” her father’s voice came in a low whisper, and she turned to see him sitting at the back of the shuttle, cleaning their meager supply of weapons on a table set against the rear bulkhead.
Mary looked down at the bright pink shipsuit. It was an auto-adjusting model, so it had shrunk down to fit her like a glove once she had pulled up the fastener.
Despite the fact that it was not the sort of thing one wore when making a surreptitious escape, she liked the fit and color, not to mention the white flowers which grew up the legs and then bloomed across the top of the outfit, only to fade away and be replaced by new flowers beginning the climb once more.
Mary gave her father a skeptical look. “Are you sure that was just sitting in that dusty old cabinet? Not only is it pretty, but it’s high quality, too. The feature listing said that it’s vacuum rated, and has a tear strength of a thousand kilograms.”
Flaherty shrugged. “I may have seen it on sale at some point and thought it would look good on you.”
Mary raised an eyebrow. “ ‘May have’? And then you just placed it in some hidden shuttle bay?”
Her father turned and looked her up and down, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “OK, I admit, I saw it and it reminded me of how you used to dress when you were a little girl. I had a moment of nostalgia-inspired weakness. And, yeah, I had a few locations like that shuttle bay stocked with supplies.”
“Well, I like it, and I’m glad you’re overprepared. Usually you buy me practical things. And guns—mostly guns. I didn’t even know you paid attention to my fashion choices.”
Flaherty shrugged. “I’ve told you stories of what it was like serving with Sera on Sabrina.”
Mary sat down across the table and shook her head at her father. “Dad, Sabrina was a pirate ship. You weren’t ‘serving’, you were pillaging.”
“Don’t ever let Sabrina hear you say that. She was very sensitive about it. We were a starfreighter, and then later—however briefly—a privateer. We were never pirates.”
“What about the stories you told me, where you attacked other ships and stole their cargo?”
“Part of the cover.”
Mary groaned. “But the ship’s AI and rest of the crew didn’t know that. They thought they were being pirates.”
“Well, maybe a little bit. But we were always attacking bad people—or stupid people, like Cheeky’s old captain. We never preyed on fat, weak targets—which is what real pirates do.”
Mary shook her head in mock disbelief, though she could tell her father was serious.
I guess he’s telling the truth—as he sees it. Gotta admit, I can’t see him stealing from the unwary.
She decided to try and pry a destination from him once more. “I know we’re not in the DL yet, but we’re not far from our jump point. Think we’re far enough from Airtha’s prying eyes that you can tell me where we’re going?”
Her father set down the pulse rifle he was cleaning and leaned back in his chair.
“Honestly, I have a few options. I thought maybe I’d let you pick.”
“Me?” Mary asked, more than a little surprised to be given the choice. “What sort of options do I have?”
“Well, one option would be to get you to New Canaan. I’m divided on that. It’s probably both the safest, and the most dangerous place in the galaxy.”
“What’s New Canaan, and how’s that possible?” Mary asked.
“It’s where the Intrepid’s crew made their colony. They can probably protect their system from all comers, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be collateral damage.”
Mary nodded silently, looking down at the white vines tracing their way up her legs, and momentarily becoming mesmerized by their motion.
“You know you can turn that off,” her father said.
“What? You give me this nice outfit, and then tell me to turn it off?” Mary said in mock anger, then winked as her Father’s eyes widened. “Dad, I’m kidding. Is it bothering you?”
“No, I thought maybe it was bothering you.”
Mary laughed softly. “Don’t worry, I like it. Yes, you’re in the doghouse for ruining my life on Airtha, but knowing you care helps.”
“Of course I care, Mary. It’s why I got you off Airtha.”
For a moment she worried he had some crazy plan in mind. “You’re not going back there, are you?”
Flaherty chuckled. “No, not unless Sera sends me.”
Mary felt a spike of anger in her chest at the statement. “Why is it that Sera commands you so completely? You’ll do anything for her.”
“Mary, I have to.”
“Right, you told her you’d be her guardian that one time. Does that mean forever?”
Flaherty nodded. “It does. But I’m also your guardian forever. And Drew’s. Luckily, you two get in far less trouble than Sera does.”
“Sounds like you have a conflict of interest.”
Her father snorted and shook his head. “Tell me about it.”
Mary had argued with her father many times before about his devotion to Sera. She knew that he struggled with his conflicting priorities, and decided not to push the issue—they’d be spending a lot of time on this shuttle, and being angry at one another wasn’t going to help.
She decided to return to the topic at hand. “Regarding New Canaan. Would they let you drop us off there?”
Her father nodded. “I own land there…or I can claim it, if I wish. You know, their civilization makes Airtha look like it’s behind the times. You could do anything you want there.”
“Anything?”
“I imagine so, yes.”
Mary considered that, slowly tapping her chin. “What other options are there?”
“Three more,” Flaherty replied, holding up three fingers. “I have a place out in the Sagittarius Arm where you two could disappear. But I don’t like that one.”
That surprised Mary. She would have expected her father to try and tuck her and Drew in the safest place he could think of. The Sagittarius Arm certainly fit the bill. “Why not?”
“Too far from me,” Flaherty said. “I’d like to see you from time to time. Plus, if anything happens, I want to be close by.”
“OK, that makes sense. What else is there, then?”
“Well, one option is one of the nations at the edge of the Inner Stars. There are a few I could set you up in.”
“The Inner Stars?” Mary asked, mouth agape. “But they’re so barbaric!”
Her father chuckled softly. “They’re not so bad as you think—some places, at least. They don’t have the infrastructure of the Transcend—still rebuilding after their wars—but they do have some nice systems and worlds. A few are almost as impressive as Airtha.”
Mary wondered if her father was selling her a bill of goods on that one. “OK, what’s the final option?”
“You two come with me.”
“We…what?” Mary stammered, unsure if she’d heard her father correctly. “Wit
h you? Where are you going?”
“Wherever Sera is. I have to get to a drop point she and I set up to find out her location. But when I do, we’ll join her—and the rebellion.”
“Shit, Dad, what are you talking about?”
“Well, if Not-Sera is now running the show at Airtha, you can bet it’s because she and Airtha don’t expect Jeffery Tomlinson to return.”
In their mad escape, she’d barely had time to consider the implications of the imposter Sera being in charge of the Transcend’s government.
“This was a coup…. Somehow that didn’t really register.”
Flaherty crossed his arms, a dark look on his face. “Yes, a very, very silent coup. I imagine it will soon come out that the president died at the hands of the New Canaan colonists, or perhaps some other fiction. I could be wrong about Jeffery being dead, but I think he is. And if he’s dead, and Adrienne is here, then Sera—real Sera—is President now.”
“Two President Seras. This is bizarre.”
“Yes.”
Mary considered her options. She really had no desire to run off to some corner of the galaxy while her father risked his life for Sera. Perhaps it was time to join the adventurous life he led—though maybe from some small distance.
“Think they have room for a legal analyst in Sera’s new government?” Mary asked after a moment.
Flaherty grinned and nodded. “Plus, if you wear that shipsuit when we first meet the new president, you’ll get hired for sure.”
Mary shook her head; Sera’s proclivities were well known amongst the populace on Airtha—but that wasn’t where her interest lay. Mary peered over her shoulder to the cockpit, where Leeroy’s silhouette could be seen against the piloting holodisplays.
“She might have to get in line. I have a suspicion that Leeroy wants to rekindle things between us—what with him agreeing to fly us out and all.”
“He’s a good man; a little odd, but a good man. I trust him with our lives.”
Mary rose from her chair and gave her father a kiss on his forehead. “Maybe I’ll see if there’s any spark left between us. Stars know I’ll need something to do while we’re all stuck on this shuttle.”