“Shouldn’t be a problem. If it has the lost dramas of the twentieth century we’d want to watch them.”
“You can have a copy of all of it. Just don’t leak it to anyone else.”
Pete chuckled. “We’re good at security here.”
They shook on the deal.
***
Arsenic Creek didn’t support any agriculture. The scars of the mines were surrounded by low, twisted forest. Guo pointed out the mine his family owned, then their store in the small town. The house stood on a hill overlooking the town.
Mitchie’s greetings in Mandarin were well received. Her grandmother-in-law even complimented her on her accent. Her practical vocabulary could get a ship cleared to dock, loaded, refueled, and onto a departure vector. After a few minutes of attempting small talk the Kwans switched to English. Sinophones were a minority on Akiak so many of them were fluent in the majority’s language.
In deference to Mitchie’s limited vocabulary the Kwans even conducted dinner table conversation in English. At least the head table did. She could pick up bits of Mandarin from the lower tables. Seating had been rearranged in her favor as well. Some of the more fluent English speakers in the clan carefully minded their manners in front of the matriarch while monolingual elders sat elsewhere.
The younger cousins wanted to hear about Guo’s adventures. “How about the guys you smashed with a hammer?” was vetoed by Grandmother. He wound up waxing eloquent about his role in recovering prisoners from the debris of FNS Terror.
Guo’s mother, Jiao, sat across from Mitchie. “What are your plans for while you’re here?” she asked.
Mitchie hastily swallowed her rice. “We’re visiting my family next. Then I’m going to Space Guard Headquarters to get all my paperwork updated. After that, we haven’t decided. Might go camping. We haven’t had a real honeymoon yet.”
“What paperwork?” asked Jiao.
“My name change.” Mitchie grinned. “I mailed notification of the marriage to them but Security insists on in-person verification for big changes.”
“Really. I’d thought you’d intended to maintain your current name professionally.”
Mitchie shrugged. “It’s not that big a deal. Most of my real work was undercover. I don’t think the people I care about will have trouble with the change.” If it screwed up Admiral Chu’s paperwork, good.
“I see. Have you thought of not changing it?”
“Um . . . no, not really. I know not everyone does but it’s traditional in my family so I always assumed I would.” She used to assume she’d take Derry’s—never mind that.
Jiao pushed some shrimp around with her chopsticks. “Perhaps you would be comfortable remaining Lieutenant Commander Long with practice.”
Mitchie looked to Guo. The cousins were extracting more war stories from him. No help there. “Why does this matter to you?” she asked her mother-in-law.
“The Kwan family has worked hard to establish a reputation for honesty and moral probity. We want to avoid confusing our business partners and customers.”
“And what’s confusing about me?” Keeping her voice level took some effort.
Jiao sipped tea. “Several of us have researched you since you joined the family. Your reputation is extremely good in the areas you are good at. In others . . .” she shrugged.
The anger boiled out. “You don’t want me changing my name because my reputation will hurt the Kwan family name?”
That was loud enough for Guo to hear it. “What? Mother, did you say that?”
“This is not my own idea. It is my role to speak for the family in this.”
“How dare you. She’s family. She’s my wife. How dare you.” Hearing Guo defend her eased Mitchie’s fears.
Jiao glared at her son. “Our employees, our customers, our suppliers all do business with us because they trust us. If that faith breaks we could starve by the banks of our poisoned stream.”
Guo’s answer came in Mandarin, far too fast for Mitchie to try to follow it. An uncle at the end of the table stood up and shouted back at him. Guo answered, then one of the younger cousins came in on Guo’s side. Then everyone at the table was standing and yelling except for Mitchie and her grandmother-in-law.
Mitchie looked at the old woman. She was focused on her tea cup as if the room was silent.
“I need some air.” Mitchie slipped out of the room. She could still hear yelling as the door closed behind her.
Wood fences flanked the driveway. Mitchie leaned on the top rail and traced the carvings. Crossing boards made an X between each pair of fenceposts. The decorations flowed smoothly between the pieces of wood. She tried to tell if they’d been carved in place or if they’d done a masterful job of piecing together decorated boards.
Guo came out the front door. He yelled inside then slammed the stormproof door. Mitchie could feel the vibration through the fence. He walked over to her and kicked an X into kindling. “Let’s get in the flyer,” he said.
Mitchie headed for the passenger side. Guo had flown them to his childhood home.
“No, you fly,” he said. “I’m too damn angry to be safe.”
“Right.” She took off as soon as they were both strapped down. East was a good direction to start with. They could make plans later. “So what was your parting remark?” she asked. “I recognized the words for filial piety.”
“The rest were obscene.” He sounded a little abashed. The adrenaline must be ebbing.
“Teach me them? Could be useful.”
“No. If I teach you any more obscene Mandarin you’ll do all your cussing in Chinese and I don’t think I could handle that.”
She laughed. If they could joke together they’d be all right. Mitchie engaged the autopilot and took his hand.
It was a clear night. The stars passing overhead were almost as clear as space. After a while Guo said, “I was the black sheep anyway. They never liked me being a spacer. I’d send money home but they’d rather have me working the mine or the store.”
“I’m glad. I wouldn’t have found you in the mine.” She leaned against him but kept an eye on the instruments.
“Hey, can you land it?”
Mitchie found a clearing free of livestock and parked the flyer in it. She half turned to face her husband.
He’d pulled something out of his pocket. “Here,” he said, putting a jade ring in her hand.
“Oh, that’s lovely! Doesn’t fit me though. Heirloom?”
“From my great-grandmother.” Guo pointed at the rear-view mirror. “Hold it next to your eye.”
“Wow!” The jade exactly matched her eyes. “How did you know it would match?”
He laughed. “I always knew. It was the very first thing I noticed about you. I almost dropped the wok.”
“Seriously? I didn’t notice you acting goofy. Didn’t think you’d noticed me at all.”
“I had to behave myself. Didn’t want you threatening to drop me out an airlock.”
She answered that with a kiss.
Going to the nearest city and taking a shuttle would have been faster than cruising their flyer halfway around Akiak. But traveling the long way let them relax. A night in a generic hotel in a town neither of them had heard of soothed their nerves.
The Longs lived in ranch country. Patches of forest alternated with meadows. Cattle and sheep wore long fur for the climate. Guo chattered nervously as they approached the house.
“Relax,” said Mitchie. “I’m thirty. She’s not going to be fussy over who I drag home.”
Her husband wasn’t convinced.
The door of the ranch house swung open to reveal a late middle-aged woman a few centimeters taller than Mitchie. Guo stood straight as the steely eyes scanned him.
“He’ll do,” she said. “Son, Michigan’s room is on the right. Put the bags there and wash up. Girl, into the kitchen. I’ll be damned if I’ll serve leftovers with newlyweds in the house.”
***
They liked him. Mitc
hie relaxed a bit. Ma had only invited the nearest cousins for dinner, “so as to not frighten him off.” But four cousins with spouses and a couple of offspring too big for the children’s table made for a noisy meal.
Guo didn’t seem bothered. He answered the cousins’ demands for war stories with vivid descriptions of their less-secret encounters. “When the captain said, ‘Never mind the yellow limits, push it into the red,’ I knew it would get hot in there.”
“Temperature or radiation?” asked Idaho, youngest at the table and an aspiring spacer.
“Heat, mostly. I did have to turn the counter down a notch,” said Guo.
When the tale reached its gory end one of the in-laws turned conversation to a gentler topic. “Has Michigan been showing you her old favorite spots?” she asked Guo.
“Yes, we’re visiting places most days.”
“Where did you go today?” Jerri followed up.
“We visited the cemetery to lay some flowers for Derry.”
Mitchie noticed all the in-laws leaning back. Only the blood relatives were willing to tackle the subject.
Albert looked at Mitchie. “That’s not very honeymoon-like.”
Guo answered before she could. “It’s a lovely memorial. I was glad to honor him. From what I’ve heard we would have been friends.”
Ma spoke directly to Mitchie. “Were you saying goodbye?”
“I said goodbye years ago,” she answered. “This was just . . . remembering.”
“And laying flowers,” added Guo.
“Haven’t you done enough of that?” asked Albert.
“I’ll be done when I lay the severed heads of some stakeholders on his grave.”
Jerri muttered “refills” and scurried into the kitchen. More in-laws followed her.
Cousin Montana shifted to the now-empty seat across from Mitchie. “Michigan. You can’t spend the rest of your life on revenge.”
“Oh?”
“Settle down,” urged Monty. “There’s room for you here.” He waved at Guo. “Or find a home in the Sinophone lands. Don’t waste your years.”
Mitchie sat with her spine straight up. “My years have been well spent. And I intend to keep doing my share for the war.”
Guo murmured, “An assist on a battleship is more than one person’s share.”
All the Longs ignored him.
“The war’s won,” said Albert. “We gave the Fuzies a bloody nose and they ran with their tails between their legs.”
“One battle isn’t a war. The Fusion hasn’t given up. And they won’t.” Mitchie’s voice rose. “They can’t. Our existence proves the entire principle the Fusion is based on is a lie. If they give up on fighting us that’s the same as telling every one of their subjects all those rules about what they do, and all the executions to enforce them, just didn’t matter.”
Mitchie was standing now, leaning forward on the table, eyes level with Monty’s as he sat.
“Derry’s death, and the death of the other men who were working on the Brave’s hull with him, and Noisy Water, and every other Disker the Fusion killed, they killed to scare us into following their rules.” Mitchie had to pause to catch her breath.
Ma Long slowly pushed her chair back as she stood. “We know that. That’s why we elected a legislator who pushes to resist the Fuzies. Why we pay taxes and ask for more to go to the Guard. Why we support those joining the Guard. And why we tend that empty grave.” She locked eyes with her daughter. “But obsession isn’t patriotism. You’re trying to win this war on your own and that will destroy you.”
“I’m fighting it as part of a team,” Mitchie answered.
Guo said, “She’s done more to win it than you’ll ever know.”
Cousin Columbia tried a softer approach. “You must have months of leave saved up. Stay with us. We miss you. We worry about you. You’re tired. I can see it in your eyes. Rest here. The war will be there when you run out of leave.”
Mitchie sat. “I am on leave. We finished the assignment that brought us here. Now it’s just waiting until they give us another one.”
“I hope they don’t hurry that,” said Ma.
The in-laws took advantage of the drop in volume to bring out dessert. Jerri, Monty’s wife, led with an apple pie. Ice cream and more pies soon had everyone too busy tasting to argue.
Mitchie looked over at Idaho. He looked like he missed the children’s table.
Yi Sun-sin Shipyard, Akiak Orbit, acceleration 0 m/s2
Setta watched from the yard superintendent’s dome as the tugs maneuvered a heavy cruiser into the slip. She couldn’t tell how it was going by watching. It looked like a smooth movement to her. The number of curses from the superintendent and his staff said otherwise.
On the radio Hiroshi’s orders to the other tug pilots shifted from calm to exasperated. An objection from one pilot fractured his reserve. “Yes, I know that’s not according to the plan. Fuck the plan. Maneuver as I tell you to.”
The slip shivered as the cruiser came to rest against the stops. The superintendent let out a sigh of relief. Setta pulled herself out the hatch.
She reached the docking bay for the tugs as Hiroshi gathered the other pilots in front of a display board. He noticed Setta and gave her a wary nod.
He drew the outline of a cruiser with his finger. A stab made a dot in the center. “The book says a cruiser’s center of gravity is here.” More stabs, each farther toward the stern. “No weapons installed, no crew, no ammo or propellant. It’s just a torch drive with an empty shell in front.”
The pilots twitched as Hiroshi swept a glare over them. “The maneuvering plan they gave us was shit. It used the book CG. Trying to get back on plan when a pilot makes a mistake is good. Doing it when the plan is shit is bad. You have to recognize when the cargo isn’t matching the plan. Maneuver to reality, not what the guy in the super’s shack pulled out of the database. Got it?”
Nods and “yes, sirs” came back.
“Good. See you at the lounge. First round’s on me.”
Setta floated up to him as the tug pilots scattered. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself.” He hung in place, not trying to close the gap to her.
“You have a tab at the lounge, right?”
“Sure.”
“Come on, we’re having dinner at the O Club.”
“Decurions aren’t officers.”
“I know. I found a replacement stove for them. All they had to trade was free meals.” Setta explained the deal as they flew through the passageways to the rotating portion of the shipyard. Normally she arranged for ships to trade excess equipment for the parts they needed. A behind schedule destroyer had offered its galley stove in exchange for life support gear. The club needed the stove but had no parts. The quartermaster team accepted vouchers in exchange for breaking into their precious stock of spares.
“Sounds like Legal might get cranky about that,” said Hiroshi.
“They eat in the O Club.”
If any Legal staff officers were eating when Hiroshi and Setta arrived they didn’t object to enlisted being seated.
Hiroshi kept looking around for someone. Finally he looked up from his menu and asked, “Is Waja joining us?”
“No. I got fed up with him being such a Fuzie.”
“You didn’t strike me as prejudiced against them.”
“I can work with them. But the Fusion has so many cameras and check-ins that anyone can find someone all the time.”
“Anyone without the money to spoof the system.” Hiroshi made his selections. The menu highlighted them to confirm.
“Yeah. Waja wasn’t at that level. He’s used to peeking at his girlfriend whenever he thinks of her, and getting peeked at himself. That doesn’t work here.” Setta waved at the cameraless ceiling.
“The isolation made him break it off?”
“No, he’d just message me whenever I came to mind. Which was often.” She put her water glass down hard enough to spill some in the low acceleration. “
I left my datasheet on my desk while I went to the loo. Came back to four messages, last one marked emergency.”
Hiroshi tried to stifle his laugh.
“I called him back and told him not to do that. He argued. It was over.”
“Over the datasheet?”
Setta flushed. “I’d’ve waited until a better time if he hadn’t pushed.” She looked Hiroshi in the eye. “I’d never do that to you.”
He nodded. All three of their break-ups had been in person. And loud.
“So—how’s the captain enjoying her vacation?”
Hiroshi shared the gossip from Commander Long’s last weekly check in.
Setta didn’t need to ask about his latest break up. Hiroshi’s rebound fling had been with a clerk in Water Systems Maintenance. Setta had heard all the details in exchange for a case of digital valves.
He focused on the pork chops after updating her on the rest of Joshua Chamberlain’s crew. When he finished one he looked up at her. “The entertainment library had its weekly update yesterday. After dinner want to see what it got in?”
“Maybe. I heard there’s four guys in Contracting who’ve been practicing traditional vocal harmony tunes. Their first public show is tonight.” Hiroshi’s face lit up. “If you’re interested.”
Akiak, gravity 10.3 m/s2
As the oldest cousin Albert had inherited Grandpa’s house. Guo was fascinated. He’d always been told that Anglophones abandoned their family histories. Seeing the relics in the ranch house told him more about the Long family than all their dinner conversations.
The central room had a huge stone fireplace. Seats covered in shaggy cowhides made a rough semicircle facing it. One window faced the lake. The rough-hewn walls bore pictures and other memorable items.
Guo ignored the backpack until he realized it was nailed to the wall, not hanging on a hook for someone to use. When Mitchie noticed him staring at it she explained, “That’s what Grandpa had all his stuff in when he landed on the planet.”
“He went from one bag to all this?”
Mitchie chuckled. “Marrying the heiress to a big chunk of land helped.”
“Oooh. Handsome cowboy impressing her by roping cattle?” I guess using sex to get ahead is a Long family tradition.
Torchship Pilot Page 19