by A. C. Ellas
“Food,” Nick replied and winked. When the inner airlock hatch opened, Nick told the ladies, “He named the other shuttle Menander, but at least I talked him out of naming it Lysistrata.”
“If I were the Horny Owl instead of the Laughing Owl, you would not have won that argument.” Cai watched as the two women settled into their seats and Nick stowed the cargo.
“Don’t you mean Horned Owl?” Evie asked, clearly attempting to repress her giggles and not having much luck.
“I meant what I said. I went through training with Pol.”
“That’s the Gator of the Horned Owl,” Nick told them, sparking off another round of giggles. He slid into the co-pilot’s seat and strapped in. “We’re ready for lift-off, Cai.”
“You’re not flying it?” the older woman asked abruptly, her eyes on Nick and concern evident in her voice.
Privately, Cai sent to Nick, If it would make her more comfortable, I’ll let you fly the shuttle.
I think it’ll be okay, Nick replied the same way. Just try to make it a smooth flight. Aloud, he said mildly, “Cai is a fantastic pilot. This shuttle can be thought of as an extension of Laughing Owl; it has the same network of neurologics as our ship does, and Cai can control the shuttle with the same ease and skill as he flies our ship.”
Cai lifted the shuttle as gently and as smoothly as he could. He’d already sought and received clearances on a separate channel while Nick had praised his abilities. His passengers didn’t seem to notice that they’d taken off.
“I just get nervous if there isn’t a real pilot sitting in the chair,” Gilly was saying.
“Cai is very real, Mom.” Nick grinned at her.
“That wasn’t what I meant,” she replied, flushing. “But if something went wrong, how fast could he react?”
“I would be reacting before you even realized that something had gone wrong,” Cai said, growing exasperated. Didn’t this woman understand? “The shuttle is part of me. Part of my body, my ship-self. I am aware of everything—I can feel the molecules of air scraping over my hull. The vibration of Evie’s toes, tapping the deck. The smooth flows of the electromagnetic currents providing my lift. Trust that I will avoid hurting myself and try to enjoy the flight.”
“He feels damage as actual pain,” Nick added dryly. “I’ve given him more than one massage just to soothe away phantom aches from damage sustained in battle.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize, sorry.” Gilly settled back in her seat. “I’m ready.”
“Mom, Cai lifted us off a couple of minutes ago.” Nick checked their position. “We’ll be passing the Karman line in about a minute. We’re already at eighty kilometers.” He touched a button to route the view from the sensors to the screen built in to the bulkhead behind the empty pilot’s seat.
“Oh, my,” Gilly exclaimed. “I never even noticed! That’s a first.”
“Cai’s really good,” Evie said with a low chuckle. “Smooth and fast.”
Passing through a hundred klicks, Cai added additional boost to the shuttle and double checked his heading—it was perfect, despite the atmospheric turbulence he’d had to deal with. He only kept a fraction of his attention on his passengers, most of his mind was occupied with flying the shuttle, and what wasn’t busy with that was busy with the sensor feeds from Laughing Owl. Adjuncts made it possible for him to divide his attention, sort of the ultimate in multitasking.
“He doesn’t talk much, does he,” Gilly was saying.
“Not while he’s flying remote like this.” Nick shrugged. “He’s also tied to Laughing Owl—I never have his undivided attention. Part of his mind is always attuned to his ship.”
Cai wanted to protest that, to tell them that Nick could indeed demand his total attention, but he knew Nick was right. He was attuned to Laughing Owl because he was Laughing Owl, waking and sleeping, in Chamber or out. He was the ship and the ship was him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“He can divide his attention like that?”
“Of course. He’s Chambered right now, Mom, he has to be, to fly a shuttle remotely. When he’s in the Chamber, he is Laughing Owl in every way that matters. And this shuttle is also him, in every way that matters.”
“Well said, Captain,” Cai couldn’t resist saying. As he spoke, he flicked on Laughing Owl’s external lights and lit the road, the slang term the pilots used for turning on the landing guide path. Evie and Gilly reacted with the appropriate awe to the sight of him, while Nick just smiled fondly. Cai didn’t need the guide path, he’d turned it on merely for the visual display. A series of red lights flicked on and off in a pattern that led inexorably in toward the landing bay.
He brought the shuttle in with the same smoothness as he’d taken off with and set it precisely in its cradle with nary a thump to give him away. He’d already closed the landing-bay doors by then, and air was cycling back into the large space. He wondered if it would be possible to hold air in the bay, perhaps by gravitational containment, so that he wouldn’t be forced to pump the air in and out every time he needed to recover a smaller ship. But that was the problem—any field strong enough to keep air in was also strong enough to keep the smaller craft out.
“Too bad this isn’t a sci-fi holo. Then, we could just ignore physics.” Laughter from the shuttle made him realize he’d spoken aloud, so he added, “The time I waste pumping air into and out of this hangar is annoying.”
“Cai, I think you do a fine job of ignoring physics—every time you jump,” Evie said.
“The jump doesn’t ignore physics so much as disrespect it,” Cai countered. “Everything I do is well within the known laws of physics, up to and until I use psi to force a wormhole to open where I want it to.” The atmospheric pressure within the landing bay was now at an acceptable level. He allowed both airlock hatches to cycle open. “Welcome aboard.”
“Thank you, Cai,” Gilly said, undoing her harness. “That was definitely the smoothest shuttle ride I’ve ever been on.”
“My pleasure,” Cai told her. “Nick, I’m exiting the Chamber now. Are you bringing them directly?”
“I’d like to show them to their guest quarters first, if you don’t mind,” Nick said.
“That’d be better,” Cai agreed. He relaxed and collapsed the linkage holding him and his adjuncts to the ship. The crystal array retracted as his eyes opened. He hadn’t been in the Chamber for an extended stay, but he was still ravenous. He slipped out of the couch and headed for the kitchen. A little snack was in order.
Chapter Three: Dinner
Nick opened the hatch to the first of the two spare officer’s spaces. It wasn’t large, consisting of a room barely big enough for the bunk and wardrobe, a private bathroom and a small, barely functional sitting room that opened onto the corridor. None of the crew spaces on this ship were all that large, but this would do for an overnight visit. “You can leave your things in here,” he said. “It isn’t much...”
“It’s more than I expected for a warship,” Gilly said, smiling. “I imagine the regular crew is packed in like sardines.”
“Not quite,” Nick laughed. “But close.”
She stepped into the space and set her bag down. “Do I have time to freshen up?”
“Yes, of course. Cai won’t be ready for us for at least another hour,” Nick said easily. He knew his husband—Cai was not at his best fresh from the Chamber. The Gator needed time to recover, to unwind and to accept being merely human again. “Evie, you’re in the room directly across from this one.”
Evie touched the pad by the hatch. It opened silently for her. “Thanks, Nicky. These are larger than the guest rooms you had us in for the Brahe mission.”
“Well, there’s only two of you this time.” Nick waved her on. “Go on. You need time to freshen up, and so do I. I’ll be back in an hour.” He turned on a heel and walked up the corridor before they could stop him. He wasn’t going far; his own quarters were at the end of that very corr
idor. He ducked through his hatch with a feeling like he’d finally come home. He paused. No, this isn’t home. Not really. Cai’s chambers—that’s my real home.
He headed through his front room, into his bedroom, dropped his duffel on the bed and made a beeline for the bathroom. Why on earth did we decide to go hiking this morning? He stripped out of his sweat-soaked, dirt-streaked uniform. Oh, yeah, I wanted to see the unicorns one last time. He stepped into the shower and turned the water on. One nice thing about spaceships, he never had to wait for the water to heat—it poured out at exactly the temperature he’d set it for and would continue to do so until he was done.
Once he was clean, toweled and lotion had been applied to various spots—bruises mostly—he dressed in a clean uniform, ran a comb through his short hair just to make sure it wasn’t sticking out oddly, and headed back into his sitting room.
“I took the liberty of unloading the produce you brought back,” Cai told him the moment he logged into the shipnet. “I had it placed in my kitchen since you do seem to prefer cooking here.”
“Your kitchen has more space to cook in,” Nick pointed out, “and thank you. I was going to ask you, but I got distracted.”
“I thought as much.” Cai sounded amused. “I didn’t figure your mother for the nervous type.”
“She was in a shuttle accident some years back. She hides it well, but flying terrifies her. I think it’s entirely to her credit that she doesn’t let her fear stop her.” Nick checked his queue. Nothing was pending for a change. Everything was on schedule and no crises had developed anywhere. He wasn’t sure he trusted this seeming peace and quiet, it couldn’t possibly last, but he’d enjoy it while he could.
“I concur,” Cai said at length.
Nick wondered what his Gator was agreeing with—his mother’s bravery or the peace and quiet not lasting. With Cai, either was likely.
“Both,” Cai admitted.
The thought that Cai was reading his thoughts didn’t bother him in the least. It was just a side effect of being married to a powerful telepath. It certainly made things convenient at times, since he didn’t have to explain what Cai had already heard directly from his mind. He thought that was becoming more common as time went by. So, just to tease his spouse, he daydreamed about slowly stripping the clothes off Cai’s body, running his hands over Cai’s smooth, pale skin, pushing Cai down over the arm of his couch and... Nick broke off with a groan. It was time to collect Gilly and Evie and here he was with a raging hard-on.
Finish it, Cai whispered in his mind. Damn it, Nick, don’t leave me dangled over the arm of a couch!
“But it’s time for dinner.” Nick grinned as he replied via the shipnet. “And it wouldn’t be as satisfying in a dream as it will be in person.” Power cracked over his balls, slid up his erection from base to head. He groaned again, his hips lifting in spite of his intentions to wait. Invisible fingers slid up into his ass and pumped him, stretching him open and teasing him, making him want more. It stopped as abruptly as it started and Nick moaned aloud, “Caaaiii... not fair.”
Now we’re even, Cai said tartly. See you in a few.
Nick cursed softly under his breath as he reached down and felt his aching pole. He was so hot, so close, it was tempting to just finish himself by hand. He wondered what Cai would do to him if he did. Cai could be very creative. Thinking about the various ways Cai could punish him wasn’t helping the situation, he realized. He sighed and stroked himself quickly, picturing Cai over him, himself in chains, Cai in him, taking his due... it worked. He caught the discharge in the hand towel he always kept at his desk then went back into his bathroom. He cleaned himself, washed his hands, checked his uniform, and finding nothing amiss, he headed out to pick up his family.
Gilly and Evie were both ready—he was the one running late, not they, and so Nick was able to lead them to Cai’s chambers without delay. He touched the doorplate to inform Cai of their arrival. Usually, one of Cai’s adjuncts would open the door for him, but this time, the door just opened as if he were keyed into it. Nick gestured to the opening, “Please, ladies first.”
“First into the lion’s den?” Gilly teased, but she walked through with Evie following her a moment later.
“He’s not a lion,” Nick said, grinning as he followed them into Cai’s parlor and immediately found his spouse casually sitting before his console. He wondered if his family had noticed him yet, but Cai didn’t leave them waiting.
“I would certainly hope not. All that hair, what a bother that would be.” Cai turned toward them and stood, abandoning his comfortable swivel seat. The Astrogator was tall and slender, pale as milk, with tousled platinum hair kept manageable only because it was so short. His intensely blue eyes were set in a sharply slanted face, and laugh lines lurked around his mouth and eyes.
No, he isn’t a lion, he’s a fox, Nick silently said and not for the first time. An arctic fox.
“Ms. Gillespie, I am pleased to meet you,” Cai was saying pleasantly. “Evie, it’s good to see you again.”
“Call me Gilly,” she said firmly. “Or Mom, since rumor has it that you’re married to Nick.”
“Hi, Cai,” Evie said. “I’m glad to be back, and I’m so happy for you, but how could you two run off and get married without inviting us?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Cai said, smiling slightly. “If we could have invited you, we would have. As it was, the entire crew invited themselves... the party afterward has reached legendary proportions, according to the space-bar flotsam.” Cai walked across the parlor, motioning for everyone to follow him. Nick fell in beside him as they reached what Cai called the socializing spot—the left side of Cai’s parlor, from the door, was set up with a couple of comfortable couches, chairs, low tables and dim lighting, perfect for a casual chat or rough sex over furniture.
The adjuncts were already bearing platters of snacks and beverages, setting their burdens on the low tables before vanishing once more. Gilly watched them with great interest then glanced at Cai. “Are they all male?”
“Yes, though I’m told that isn’t usually the case.” Cai shrugged. “Four of them are still original, selected while I was still in training. The newer pair... the Guild didn’t even bring female models for my consideration; they had a limit on how many bodies they could bring for me to choose from so didn’t waste any space on something I’d never shown an interest in before. Please, help yourselves.” He gestured to the offerings spread over the tables. “That’s tea in the pitcher, from the last batch Nick made. It has Synde in it. If you prefer something without Synde, or something else to drink, just tell me, please. My adjuncts can get you anything you’d like.”
Nick picked up a plate after Gilly and Evie were done making their selections. He filled it with what he knew were Cai’s favorites and handed it to his husband. Cai accepted it with a wry smile then retaliated by handing Nick a plate filled with his own favorites.
Evie caught the byplay and grinned. “You’re such a cute couple. So, done anything fun lately that you’re allowed to talk about?”
“We were tasked with hunting pirates. Not exactly fun,” Cai said.
“I don’t know, it had its moments,” Nick countered. “We were a bait ship, rigged out as a tramp freighter—down to fake patches on the hull and dirt in the corridors. Drove Cai nuts to have to keep things so messy... but it worked.”
Cai was scowling at the memory. Nick reached over and casually massaged Cai’s left leg, right above the knee, where he knew it often hurt.
“You look familiar,” Gilly said abruptly. “But I can’t place you... where did you grow up?”
“I have no idea.” Cai laid a hand atop Nick’s. “I don’t know if it is just memory suppression or a full wipe and resynapsing like they do with the adjuncts. No Astrogator I know of has ever regained any memory of their childhood. My earliest memory is of sitting up in a bed, staring at the crystal in my palm and wondering wh
y my head hurt so much.”
Nick added his own thoughts on the matter. “But there are traces of things that have to be from before the Guild, so I think it’s probably just suppression.”
“Traces? Like what?” Evie cocked her head.
“Cai can play the violin; he’s actually really good at it. He can also read Attic Greek as easily as he reads standard English.”
“I see your point.” Gilly smiled at Cai. “The Guild wouldn’t resynapse you with an interest in history or the ability to play an instrument. Besides, if they had resynapsed you, they’d have lost whatever it was about you that made you a person—nobody has ever regained what we term higher-level cognition after a resynapsing, no matter how meticulously the brain was patterned. I’ve read some studies on the subject. I’ll send them to you, if you’d like.”
“Please,” Cai said quickly. “I’d like to read them. It’s a personal goal of mine to undo whatever the Guild did to me in that regard. I like being an Astrogator, and I’m okay with all their rules and restrictions, but they had no right to steal my past from me.” He studied Gilly for a moment, his expression intent. “So you are the head of Child Protective for Noram East?”
“Actually, I’ve moved up to all of Noram. The directors for each region report to me. It’s challenging at times, rewarding at others.” Gilly shrugged.
“But you were the director for the region Nick lived in as a child?” Cai’s question was pointed, his gaze more closely resembling a laser glare. Nick wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of a glare like that from the Gator, but Gilly handled it well.
“Is this about what happened to Nick and Evie?”
Nick stiffened, his stomach clenching. He shot Gilly a pleading glance. Don’t, he thought. Please don’t.
Cai squeezed his hand, but he didn’t back off. “Yes. It is. Nick was horribly abused. He nearly died... where was Child Protective when all that was going on?”
Gilly sighed, her eyes dark and expression mournful. “Yes, Cai, they were in my region—nobody knew. They were homeschooled, and so long as they passed their courses and didn’t get into trouble, no flags were raised in the system. That’s a loophole I’ve since closed—empaths and other monitors check on all students regularly, especially the ones who learn from home.”