I felt like an idiot once again, and Nastya could see it. She reached out her hands and raised mine to her lips. She kissed my fingers lightly and said, “My husband, do not think that you have failed at anything. It is for the woman to think of these things. At least, it is in my world, in Lubya. It is your job to leave our home and kill the bugs, to protect your wife, your family, your people. You are the best man I know – with the possible exception of dear Elian – and I believe in my heart that we make a great team, you and I. I believe that with our friends to help us, we will make a secure future for us all.
I had never heard Nastya speak at such length, and I realized in this moment that my future with her was going to be challenging. I looked at Elian and asked, “Did you know any of this?” He grinned and looked smug, but Carolyn poked him in the side, causing him to grin. She said, “Elian is every bit as knowledgeable as you are, Robert.”
We all laughed but I wanted to continue to discuss the subject. I asked, “Nastya, I have never thought for even a moment about any of this. Now that you have opened the subject, I suddenly feel unprepared. Do you have any prospects, or, well, thoughts to share with us?”
It appeared that she did. She spent an intense thirty minutes discussing a variety of possibilities, potentialities, guesses and intuitions. Her family was large, not wealthy, but no longer poor either. Nastya was the third generation to have been born on Lubya, and her family was just now beginning to climb up into a position of comfortable security, although not wealth.
She talked about her family’s struggle to survive on a new world where there was no fall back position, no security net. Her family found in the Fleet an opportunity to gain education and experience, and now her father was an admiral, one brother a lieutenant commander and she herself a lieutenant with a very good future ahead of her.
I realized that the amount of knowledge that I didn’t know was much larger than I had, well, known, but Nastya didn’t seem disillusioned by my own discoveries. Perhaps, she already knew.
I hazarded a guess, “Since all of us here at the table, and apparently, every single member of your family are involved in travel between planets, there might be something that we can do that can turn all that experience into financial security.”
Elian and I had never talked about the future all that much – we’re guys remember, but I had come to think of my future as being intertwined with his. We were that close. In that moment, Elian looked at me and I saw in his eyes the same thought. Carolyn and Nastya were looking intently at the two of us, and once again it came to me that these two women were going to have to slow down and wait for Elian and I to catch up.
Elian came to pretty much the same conclusion because he asked, “Have you already picked out the color scheme for the head office of this future company we’re going to create out of, well, in our case, pretty much nothing?” The girls looked at each other and smiled and Elian stopped laughing and with widening eyes asked, “You have?”
Now, the girls laughed.
After lunch we walked around some more and at an open-air market Carolyn came upon a small vase. It had been hand made by a local artist, and was quite beautiful. Carolyn picked it up almost reverently and held it in her hands, looking at it. She looked at Elian and he raised his eyebrows. She leaned over and whispered in his ear. I can’t be certain, but I feel that Elian enjoyed it when Carolyn’s lips came anywhere near. He nodded his head and they turned to a young woman who was tending the table upon which the vase had been sitting. A small amount of haggling took place, surprising me. I had not grown up in a society in which posted prices were anything other than the price. Here, as in a few other societies, posted prices were like starting lines of some obscure race. There ensued a certain amount of gracious yet firm head shaking back and forth, along with a small amount of disappointment at the lack of culture displayed by the four well dressed people, matched by an equal amount of delicate surprise at the lack of capitalistic restraint exhibited by the petite and casually dressed young woman, who, it turned out, was the creator of the vase in question.
Once this bit of information was exchanged, at a tactically well-timed moment, the dickering came to a conclusion. My guess? Carolyn knew how to squeeze every last cent, but she had a soft spot or two tucked away in her heart. She got even by hugging the artist, who then threw in a tiny piece of delicate and beautiful cloth. A hanky? I didn’t know, but it was very pretty.
I’d ask my wife, later.
We walked around another bit, and then it was time for Carolyn to return to uniform. Too bad, that. She looked quite, um, healthy and perky and all that, in her pretty summer dress, and sandals. Before she left, she turned to Nastya and I. She said, a little formally, “Nastya and Robert, Elian and I wish to present to you this small vase. It holds in it our hopes for a long and happy marriage between two people we have come to love so very much.” Hugs and kisses followed, although not between Elian and I. We shook hands.
We invited Elian to spend the rest of the afternoon with us but he refused politely, mentioning in passing certain unspecified duties that had yet to be performed. As we worked for the same boss, it was my guess he was not anxious to spend the afternoon with a couple, newly introduced to the joys of sex. Elian waved, received one of Nastya’s formal hugs, heartfelt all the same, and left.
Finding ourselves alone, we returned to our hotel. Her dress didn’t manage to stay attached to her person much beyond the abrupt closing of the door. Youthful enthusiasm trumps a beautiful dress every time.
That evening we dressed in our uniforms – I had only the one set of civilian clothes, and went out for a family gathering at a small, local family owned restaurant. This was to be my introduction to Nastya’s family, and she thought a uniform, with shiny new medals attached, would be putting my best foot forward.
We took a people mover across town and walked a few blocks to reach the restaurant. The owners greeted Nastya warmly as soon as we walked in. They made a fuss over her, the husband kissed me on both cheeks, and then we were escorted into the one small dining room. My first impression was of a military briefing. Uniforms were abundant, and I learned that the term ‘family’ might consist of more than one or two parents and one or two siblings. The admiral and then the admiral’s wife, who at first glance seemed to be the more formidable of the two, hugged me. Additional glances didn’t promise to change that opinion. Then, I was greeted warmly by a bewildering variety of cousins, aunts and uncles, plus the odd brother or sister, and perhaps a few people not exactly family, but you know, I’m not certain.
We all stood, with Nastya standing in approximately the geographic center of the crowd, answering a bewildering series of questions that intermingled her so far largely unknown family history, recent military events, and a baby or two. I stood, my hand held firmly by Nastya, and smiled and nodded, as the occasion required.
After a very long period of time, perhaps fifteen minutes, Nastya’s mother called everyone to order, terminating the confusing ordeal. I grinned, inside of course, at the demonstration of power wielded by the admiral’s wife. It struck me in that moment – she was my mother-in-law! My tiny and coldly distant family had just been replaced by a horde of jovial and rather loud Russians, who loved to kiss and hug and stand too close.
Nastya and I were ushered like well-loved but dim children to our seats, which were near the head of the table. Now, I’m guessing here, but the admiral would constitute the ‘head’ in most families. Here, I couldn’t say. The admiral’s wife sat at the other end, and seemed to me to be in charge. She was the one who stood by her chair, pointing imperiously, exclaiming with verve, and in general pushing everyone around.
As soon as she arranged everyone to her satisfaction, she turned and waved her hands around a bit and the two proprietors appeared carrying steaming platters. Loud discussion ensued concerning the unsuitability of the food, mixed in with equally loud protestations that seemed to indicate that the meal was unrivaled in the entir
e universe.
The food was placed on the tables, and then, finally, the admiral took over. He stood and everyone quieted. Much to my surprise, he bowed his head and offered a short but eloquent prayer in which God was beseeched to guide the steps and protect the lives of this family. I had heard about this – I mean, prayers before food, but truth to tell, it was my first experience with the actual thing. My own religious beliefs were arrived at without the benefit of help or assistance of any of my family, which didn’t even consider itself to be atheist.- that would have meant they thought about the subject.
My first reaction was to feel embarrassment for this obviously unworldly man. By the time he concluded however, I realized that I might have been mistaken. His words were heartfelt, humble and oddly eloquent. I added another item to the growing list of things I needed to discuss with my wife. I realized, quite belatedly, that his first question to me concerned my religious beliefs. This was important to him, and as a result, to me.
The admiral sat down and nodded his head. That signaled the beginning of food dispensing, which was accomplished with more loud discussion. With this many outspoken and outgoing people, I could understand the need for being a little loud, and I was a fish out of water. I watched Nastya for clues, took a bite in those few moments when I wasn’t answering a question, and generally smiled my face into exhaustion. I admit to a surprising amount of stress.
On Lubya, they don’t have food, they have courses of food. I know this now, I learned this then. Lucky for me I didn’t have an opportunity to stuff myself with what was to become the first of many courses.
To tell the truth, I felt alien and awkward in this very comfortable gathering of people who seemed to fit so exuberantly well together. However, this does not mean I wasn’t enjoying myself. First, my casual gaze took in all the females in the room, winnowed out the too old and the ‘not yets’, and came to the smug conclusion that I had married the pick of the crop. Second, despite being barely able to understand the thickly accented English mixed up with Russian, I felt the warmth and affection for Nastya that radiated from everyone in the room, and by extension, for her husband. They accepted me.
It took a bit to understand just why they would so warmly welcome a total stranger into their family, but a moments’ reflection yielded the fact that I was wearing the uniform of the Fleet, in a family where the Fleet was of crucial importance, both on a personal level as well as on the level of a planet that had possibly been saved from extinction by that same Fleet.
It didn’t hurt that I was wearing several brand new medals, earned in battle against a fearsome enemy. I had faced death and been found not wanting. At least, as far as this family knew.
The last course passed around the table and finally returned from whence it came. Despite being cautious, I had eaten a lot, and was relieved to find I did not have to exclaim over yet another unfamiliar dish of food. The admiral called for more tea, and a fresh setting of glasses was passed around. Tea was a big deal here, although it was a mystery to me how a culture could produce such marvels as I’d seen on Lubya, yet drink tea out of a scalding hot glass container.
The admiral waited until everyone had a full glass, many of which had received generous portions of oddly formed lumps of hard sugar. I’d hadn’t known what it was, and had therefore been drinking very strong, bitter tea. Then, he smiled and said, “Lieutenant Padilla, Robert; if you don’t mind, would you please tell us a little about yourself?”
I had expected something like this, and was more or less prepared. I smiled at my father-in-law, and spoke fairly briefly about my upbringing. I edited out the sharp edges of my family, in particular its dismay over my entrance into Fleet, and zipped past any mention of my own participation in the bug war.
Upon my conclusion, the admiral spoke knowledgeably about the discovery of the Hawk, how Elian and I had originated the initial idea and the subsequent plans to transform that ancient craft into the single most important weapon the Fleet possessed in the opening stages of the war, when we came so close to being blown out of space.
He continued, talking about our development of the Dresdens, our leadership in developing the winning tactics, and on and on. I wanted to be anywhere but there, smiling humbly while he recounted the gigantic steps taken by his new son-in-law. It was horrible. Thankfully, I had Nastya at my side, crushing my hand.
Finally, that discourse ended and I once again received requests for opinions that were so many grades above my level of expertise that I was astounded that the admiral didn’t just throw his glass at me. I tried saying polite nothings to the admiral, who was in a far better position to know the answers to questions such as what Fleet’s plans were for developing new ships, weapons and tactics, and so on.
To my great surprise, however, the first time I tried to avoid answering a question, the admiral kindly said, “Son, if I may be permitted to call you that? Your pivotal role in the events of the last six months or so gives you a perspective few other people, if any, have. I too am interested, very interested, to hear what you have to say.”
His faintly quaint and formal manner of speech did not hide either the genuine interest in his voice, or his being accustomed to people taking his requests as commands.
I did not lose my own perspective. I did speak my mind, but I never forgot that I was in the company of an admiral of the Fleet, and a man I was learning to admire for his subtle mind and quiet-spoken manner, and whose good opinion I valued intensely.
The evening passed by, and came to an end. It had been very intense, strange, and so very different from any family gathering I had ever participated in that I found myself feeling reluctant to part from these people whose names were blurred in my mind, but all of whom were to be remembered from that moment on as smiling upon me, and for the outpouring of love they gave to Anastasia, their beloved Nastya.
As we walked through the quiet side streets toward the intersection where we would pick up the people mover, I asked Nastya, “Now that we are married, what do you wish to do about, um, your last name?”
Nastya turned her head to look at me and said, “What is your custom?” I replied, “On earth, in my society, the woman assumes the man’s last name. Is that what you do here?” She leaned over and kissed me quickly on the cheek and said with a grin, “Do you not want me to take your lovely last name?” This was one of the easiest questions of the evening to answer. “Yes, my beautiful and highly trained martial artist wife, I do.”
She giggled and tightened her grip on my hand. I took that to be a ‘yes’.
We arrived at the hotel and within moments we were in bed. I was once again a very hungry man, but not quite as hungry as my wife. When we married, I wasn’t merely inexperienced, I was unexperienced. However, I possessed what I was coming to think of as a crucial piece of information: please your wife first and only then take your own pleasure.
This was a situation where theory and practice happily coincided. I approached love making with the same focus as I approached the killing of bugs. It seemed to me at times that it took about as long for the former as for the latter; however, either I was getting better at it or she was learning to like it because her pleasure came more often, more quickly and more better.
Nastya was seemingly without any preconceptions about sex, and was open and able to discuss what she liked and didn’t like. I was smart enough to avoid her dislikes, which seemed to coincide with anything ‘ungraceful’. For her part, Nastya was very eager to learn how to please me, and asked lots of exceedingly direct questions. Since I had no prior experience, we, um, practiced as much as possible, on the theory that practice makes perfect. In point of fact, practice also makes tired.
One aspect of our love that added to that intensity was the nature of our jobs. We could die tomorrow, and I had come close to that fate more than once. We also had no idea how much time we would have together, although we knew it would be somewhere between limited and nearly non-existent.
Late the next
day we shuttled back up to fleet base. We were back in uniform and sat quietly together. Of course, my near hand was unobtrusively occupied.
At one point she leaned over and whispered, “Robert, would you like to make love to your wife in zero gravity?” Without looking at her I asked, “Right now?” She giggled quietly and it was with some difficulty that I didn’t act out her request. Her love for me, the sheer reality of her presence next to me was a continuing miracle.
Back aboard base we parted company and I watched as she walked lithely away from me. I noticed that her walk was different, and at first assumed the difference was due to the low gravity. On reflection however, I came to the conclusion that when we walked back to our hotel the previous evening, she walked the same way. I thought about it as I walked toward my quarters and it hit me suddenly: her walk was now more sensual. Not suggestive, just, the walk of a sexually satisfied woman. I was grinning when I entered our common area.
As soon as I reached my tiny quarters, my pad beeped, alerting me to a meeting very early the next morning. I groaned. It was now already very early the next morning. I’d shut off the messaging feature when I went down planet, but when the system decided I was back on duty, it over rode my shut down and alerted me. Good thing it did.
Hawk Seven (Flight of the Hawk) Page 50