The Redwood Trilogy Box Set

by Jaxon Reed

  The little girl at their feet was laughing, trying to hug the dog. The dog did not want to be hugged, but seemed to be trying not to hurt the girl at the same time. It had a patient, but slightly exasperated look on its face, if a dog’s face could express emotion.

  We went through several more photos. Mrs. Tussy had over a hundred of them. When we finished, she offered to send the folder over to Dee Dee’s account so she’d have copies of the pictures.

  Dee Dee thanked her profusely. We finished our tea and made ready to leave.

  “Come back anytime, dear. I can share more stories. Your parents were wonderful people.”

  We promised her we’d return, then left and made our way home.

  Holding hands, walking back to Price Faculty Hall, Dee Dee stared off in the distance lost in thought.

  I squeezed her hand. “You okay?”

  She smiled, her eyes coming back to the present.

  “For the first time, I feel like I’ve connected with my birth parents. I feel like I know a little more about myself.”

  “Does it feel good?”

  “Yeah. It definitely feels different. I’m glad Mrs. Tussy found us, and shared everything with us.”

  “I’m glad she and her husband took care of you all those years ago.”

  Chapter Twelve

  On the standard calendar, April 21 is San Jacinto Day, marking the victory of Sam Houston’s army over Santa Anna’s in the final battle for Texas independence.

  It’s also the day for Aggie Muster.

  In keeping with its military origins, Texas A&M honored students who died throughout the year. On April 21, students and alumni gathered to honor the dead. Aggies all over, wherever two or more were present who couldn’t make it back home to the University, also gathered together for the roll call of the absent. Thus anywhere Aggies could be found, on ships at sea, groups of soldiers at war or stationed at far-flung outposts, or simply members of a city’s A&M Club, they would gather to participate in this sacred tradition on that day every year.

  New Texas A&M followed the same tradition. On April 21 standard time, business as usual came to a halt across New Texas while every Aggie who could be there gathered in Lopez Arena. The proceedings were broadcast around the planet.

  As fitting with the recent military actions, this year’s keynote speaker was General LeBlanc. He gave a nice speech about honor, duty, and sacrifice, extolling the character of our fallen students.

  Then the lights dimmed and we each took candles. Ushers walked down the aisles, lighting the candles of those seated on the outside. Each person then held their candles to those seated next to them, and soon thousands of candle lights filled the arena.

  Due to the war, the list of names ran considerably longer than usual. Volunteers took turns reading them. As each name was called out, those who knew the fallen stood and announced, “Here!”

  Dee Dee and I sat with the triplets and their girlfriends. We were the Redwood contingent. We all stood and announced, “Here!” when the names of Professor Kalinowski and the Ngs were called.

  I also called out “Here!” for Alvin Schmidt. He’d been an Agent of the State, and he was dead because of me. I’d killed him in self-defense back on Redwood. Even so, he was still an Aggie, and one that I’d known.

  Finally, once all the names were read, cadets fired off a 21 gun salute outside while the band played a solemn rendition of “Silver Taps.”

  The crowd quietly filed out of Lopez Arena.

  -+-

  The end of the semester approached, and things grew hectic. Dee Dee and I decided scheduling a wedding that close to finals had definitely proven to be a bad idea. The stress from both made life nearly unbearable the last few weeks of the school year.

  Finally we finished our last exams, went to a wedding rehearsal at the All Faiths Chapel, then went out to eat with everybody at a nice restaurant for the rehearsal dinner.

  That night the girls took Dee Dee to Mrs. Tussy’s house for a bachelorette party. Dee Dee and I were told we couldn’t see each other again until the wedding.

  Jacob had borrowed my expense account earlier for a “surprise.” I was mildly apprehensive for what he had planned for my bachelor’s party. Fortunately, it wasn’t too bad, just very expensive.

  The triplets walked me over to a pub called The Minor Prophet. I’d heard of it. Its specialty was a beer brewed by a group of Roman Catholic monks who lived in a monastery outside New Bryan. To support themselves, the monks crafted a very high quality (and thus expensive) ale, and The Minor Prophet had the privilege of being one of the few places serving it on a regular basis.

  I casually noted the increased University Police presence as we walked to the pub. We saw officers on every block.

  “I guess they’re making sure nothing disrupts graduation, huh? Probably been on high alert all through finals to make sure those went off without a hitch, too.”

  Jacob looked at me, a twinkle in his eye.

  “There’s also a couple of VIP parties tonight, and a VIP wedding tomorrow.”

  When I thought about it later, I figured out he was actually being serious. I asked Dee Dee if she noticed a heavy police presence around Mrs. Tussy’s house for the bachelorette party, and she had.

  When we finally got to our destination, a large sign over the door showed a bearded man in a white robe carrying a walking staff in one hand and a scroll in the other. A sign on the door read, “Closed for Private Party.” We walked in to a live band playing on a stage. Everybody turned to see us come through the door, and a cheer erupted. Several students I knew came forward to shake my hand, including some cadets who’d fought with us on the Atkinson Archipelago. Sergeant Sledge was there too, along with Sergeant Aguilar. A couple Professors had been invited. Even Kent, the security guard from our building, showed up.

  Most of them had had a pint or two of monastery ale already. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits. Half an hour later we were, too. I actually forgot, for the moment, how much the open bar and live band were costing me.

  A while later the door opened and President Montoya stepped in.

  “I hear we’re about to lose a famous bachelor tomorrow!”

  The crowd cheered him, and he made his way over to our table. Somebody put a mug of beer in his hand.

  “A toast!”

  The room instantly grew silent as President Montoya waved his mug in my general direction.

  “To this fine Aggie, who despite numerous hardships, including the inconvenience of being hematophagous, has proven to be loyal to his friends and his University through thick and thin.

  “Marcus, girls across New Texas are crying in their pillows tonight . . .”

  Laughter.

  “No, they’re not,” I said, my face reddening.

  “. . . But you could not possibly have picked a finer bride than Diane Fremont.”

  The crowd cheered.

  When they quieted down again, President Montoya raised his glass higher.

  “To Marc and Dee Dee!”

  “Marc and Dee Dee!”

  Everybody gulped down their beer, and cheered again.

  It was late when we slowly made our way to Price Faculty Hall, the triplets singing “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” the whole way back. I didn’t even notice the heavy police presence following until we got to the doors of our building. Turning around, I saw a dozen officers trailing behind us. One of them casually saluted me.

  I burped at him, turned and followed the triplets through the doorway, and headed for the elevator and bed.

  -+-

  We slept late the next morning. Andrea called Jacob to wake him up, and he got the rest of us going. I showered, then pulled on my tuxedo. The triplets did the same. We made our way to the All Faiths Chapel, stopping only at a Coffee Cart to load up on caffeinated beverages.

  Dee Dee and the girls had completed preparations for the wedding. I hadn’t the slightest idea what all went into it. I did agree to help pay for so
me things, like the long distance telepresence call for her family and other guests back on Redwood.

  New Texas was a community property planet, under both the State and University charters. So, once we were legally wed all I owned would be Dee Dee’s. I figured, why not contribute to whatever she asked for. It was all going to be hers soon, anyway.

  Plus, when you’re in love, you’re more open to suggestions, even expensive ones.

  Anyway, the All Faiths Chapel was decked out in beautiful flowers and decorations. We made our way to a side room, and met Pastor Bob who shook our hands.

  Robert Pak pastored our church, a small non-denominational congregation which met every Sunday in the All Faiths Chapel. Three small churches, in fact, met in the chapel every Sunday morning. One at nine o’clock, one at ten-thirty, and another at twelve noon. Ours had the ten-thirty slot.

  We’d felt comfortable with the church on our first visit. Everybody seemed warm and welcoming. It had been our third church to visit, earlier in the school year.

  The first had been a large Methodist congregation that met in a beautiful church building in New Bryan. It was very popular with students, and hundreds of Aggies attended it. But, it seemed too big for our tastes. The triplets and Dee Dee had spent their lives at the Ranger station with only a handful of people. I was used to the small population of Redwood City. The church was just too big for us.

  The second we visited was a smaller Pentecostal church which met in its own modest-sized building in New Bryan. We never really felt comfortable there, either, but not from the size of the church. Members of the congregation and even the Pastor seemed to have an issue with Dee Dee and me being hematophagous.

  When meeting us the first time, the Pastor asked me an odd question.

  He said, “Do you think someone who can’t die has a soul?”

  We never went back. I was certain I both had a soul and that I could die. But I didn’t want to go to a church with a Pastor that doubted either. We just didn’t fit in there.

  They say every church is different, and you have to keep looking until you find one that suits you well. We found ours on the third try.

  “I’m Bob Pak. Welcome!”

  Those were the first words spoken to us when we walked into the All Faiths Chapel that morning. Pastor Bob stood tall and thin, and wore his hair long around his shoulders. In his mid-thirties, his dominant ancestry seemed to be Asian. His full name, we found out later, was Robert Alejandro Gustavus Pak. He always seemed to be smiling, and I never caught him in a bad mood on Sundays.

  “Glad to meet you, Pastor Pak.”

  “Please, call me Bob!”

  Pastor Bob and others in the little congregation welcomed us with open arms. It seemed strange that a church with far fewer people, and certainly fewer resources than the first two we’d visited, would be more open and welcoming toward us. I commented about it to Pastor Bob on our second visit.

  “So long as you have Jesus in your heart,” Pastor Bob said, “your physical, outward self doesn’t matter.”

  Pastor Bob and others in the little congregation didn’t care a bit that Dee Dee and I were different.

  To drive home the point, he preached a series of sermons on “circumcision of the heart,” where the Apostle Paul stressed how a man’s salvation is not dependent on circumcision, but rather his relationship with Christ. Apparently the early Church had a controversy regarding whether men needed to be circumcised in order to be saved. Paul had set them straight, writing that Jesus saved people, not circumcision or circumstances, or good deeds, or anything else.

  We decided we liked the church, and kept going. The triplets joined us in attending.

  I started tithing on Sundays when the offering plate scanner was passed around, donating from my expense account every week. Nobody said anything, but I suspected the church’s financial position strengthened considerably after we joined.

  Pastor Bob agreed to lead our wedding, provided we agreed to go through a series of marriage classes with him. During these classes he focused on rooting out unspoken expectations we each carried into the union. He also spent considerable time on the concept of commitment in marriage.

  “Now, I realize you two might live longer than other people. But, this commitment you are making is for life, no matter how long that life may be.”

  We both nodded in understanding. We assured him we were committed to one another, come what may.

  Back in the present, in the little room off the front of the chapel, Pastor Bob shook my hand then the triplets’.

  “Everybody ready? Don’t be nervous, Marc. Jeremy, Jacob, and Jason, you guys get ready to escort guests in. Friends of the bride sit on the left, friends of the groom on the right. Ask them if you don’t know.

  “Remember, the chapel on Redwood is smaller, so virtual guests will appear at about the middle of the aisle. Somebody needs to always be keeping an eye on that spot to seat them, too.”

  The boys nodded, and as the pianist we’d hired started playing her opening melody, they rushed off to seat guests.

  A corporate communications icon started revolving in the air above the middle of the pews as the telepresence connection established itself.

  Ranger Jones and his wife Leesa were the first guests from Redwood to pop in. They looked around for a few moments before the buffering software activated. Then they saw everybody and smiled. Jeremy offered his arm to Mrs. Jones’ hologram, and led them down the aisle, seating them on the left.

  The pews in the little chapel back on Ranger Station Alpha were not lined up exactly with the All Faiths Chapel pews, so it looked like the Jones and other virtual guests were sitting a little inside the seats. I imagined our physical guests on New Texas looked to them as if their holograms were floating slightly above the pews back on Redwood. Other than that, the telepresence call worked great for the wedding.

  Eventually most of the guests were seated, both those physically present and virtual. Mrs. Cruz and Connie sat on the front pew. I hadn’t seen Connie since we’d left Redwood. She’d been nice to me for only a short while when I first came to the Ranger station. Once she found out I was hematophagous, she’d given me the cold shoulder. Then she seemed to completely disown her sister after Fred bit Dee Dee. She’d refused to leave Redwood with us, even though she was eligible to attend A&M.

  I glanced over at her hologram. She wore a nice dress, but sat with her arms and legs crossed, slunk down on the pew. She looked like she’d rather be anywhere else.

  Finally, the appointed time came, and the pianist stopped playing for a moment, then switched music. Pastor Bob and I moved into position at the altar. The triplets assembled at the entrance.

  The Patel sisters’ holograms popped into existence as they entered the chapel back on Redwood. They slowly walked down the aisle tossing rose petals on the floor, with virtual equivalents showing up on our floor as well. (I had to pay extra for “extraneous matter representation” to the phone company in order to pull that off.)

  The bridesmaids appeared, with Charlie on Jason’s arm walking down the aisle first, then Andrea and Jacob, then Paris and Jeremy. They walked down the aisle, then split at the altar and lined up on either side. The Redwood guests couldn’t see anybody until they passed the halfway mark and entered the space shared by the little chapel on Ranger Station Alpha. I noticed Mr. and Mrs. O’Donnell eyeing the girls. This was the first time they’d seen them up close, and they regarded their sons’ girlfriends with friendly curiosity.

  Then Professor Cruz entered the little chapel on Redwood, and his hologram popped into the center of our aisle.

  The pianist stopped again, and everyone stood up, turning toward the entrance. The pianist started playing “The Bridal Chorus.” Dee Dee walked through the door in a flowing white wedding dress, with a veil over her face. She walked slowly down the aisle to her father’s hologram, stopping when she got there. Back on Redwood, her hologram would be popping into existence next to Professor Cruz in his
chapel. He offered her his virtual arm. She took it, and they proceeded down the aisle together, stopping at the altar.

  Pastor Bob said, “Who gives this woman in marriage?”

  “I do. Her father, Professor Curtis Cruz.”

  Dee Dee’s mother choked up a bit and dabbed tears with a handkerchief. Connie rolled her eyes.

  Pastor Bob offered Dee Dee his hand and helped her up the steps in her high heels. Professor Cruz sat down next to his wife and Connie.

  The ceremony began.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Incoming call.”

  “No incoming call.”

  “Incoming call.”

  “I said no, computer. No incoming calls.”

  I pulled the covers over my head. Sunlight crept through the blinds of our window. I didn’t know what time it was, and I didn’t care. We were on the fifth morning of a wonderful honeymoon.

  After word spread so quickly about our wedding, I decided to make the honeymoon a closely guarded secret. Dee Dee had been in charge of the marriage ceremony and pulled off a beautiful wedding with the help of her friends. I decided to work on the honeymoon all by myself.

  I booked a stay at an expensive and isolated chalet in the mountains about a thousand miles from New Bryan. I had the financial management company make the reservation so my name wouldn’t be attached. After the Morgan issue, the company bent over backwards to accommodate my request for privacy, even booking our transportation through a dummy corporation.

  We had a fully stocked kitchen, and had the place to ourselves except for a trio of maid bots. Stunning scenery. Peaceful hikes. Mountain streams and waterfalls. Glorious isolation.

  The triplets wanted to know the details before we left. Curiosity burned them up.

  I said, “I’ll tell y’all where we stayed when we get back.”

  But I decided one person at the University should probably know, just in case. So, I shared my plans with President Montoya. That idea proved beneficial.