The admiral nodded. “I can understand your desire to become better, Captain. Be sure to stay close to your comms; I’m sure there will be many questions for you in the coming days.”
Sara stood, making a quick hand motion for Boon to do the same, and they both saluted. “Yes, sir. I’ll be at your disposal, sir. Thank you.”
She turned and started down the aisle of empty seats, toward the back of the room and the double doors that led to freedom. Alister was on her shoulder before she’d gone two steps, Boon right behind them.
Before she could open the door and step out, Admiral Smith called out for her. “Captain?”
Sara cringed slightly, but turned and smiled at the elderly lady. “Yes, ma’am?”
Smith narrowed her eyes slightly in consideration before asking, “Could you really pull this entire building down?”
Her question caught Sara, and the other admirals, off-guard. The surprise on their faces was replaced with questioning stares, and Sara realized they wanted to know the answer as well.
“Easily,” she said without hesitation.
8
Two days of endless talks and debriefings awaited Sara and Boon when they landed at the capitol building in Hawaii. For two days, they watched footage and explained decisions, and—while never actually having to—justified Sara’s new powers. At the end of the two days, the only thing the captain was sure of was that the UHFC was very nervous.
Having someone who could literally take out an army under the command of someone who could not was a dynamic they had no experience with. While Sara tried to convince them that she would follow orders, she knew there would eventually be someone who would not.
Sara had talked with Cora right before getting on the tram. After a day and a half of scientists who had no clue what was happening trying to tell them what was happening, Cora said the tests were finally getting started. The Raven was making its first test warp with the core in a few hours. Sara wished her luck.
Boon shaded her eyes from the bright afternoon sun, as she and Sara stepped out of the tram that had brought them down the mountain from the capitol complex on the side of Mauna Kea.
Sara handed her a spare pair of sunglasses. “Here, I figured you’d forget to bring some,” she said, putting on her own pair of silver-rimmed aviators. Boon quickly followed suit, and Sara had to smile at the too big glasses on her small face.
“Come on, let’s find you some that fit properly. I have a feeling we’re going to need them over the next few days.” Sara tightened the straps of her backpack and headed for a line of shops on the edge of the square outside the tram station.
They were both dressed as civilians: tee shirts, blue jeans, and, in Sara's case, a white knit hat that she could stuff her fire-engine-red hair into to make herself a little less conspicuous. Boon had opted for a ballcap, with the adjustable snaps in what Sara thought of as the ‘child-sized’ position. She had pulled her ponytail through the hole so that it bounced around her shoulders as she walked. Each of them carried a backpack containing a few changes of clothes, their arm tablets, and some metal water bottles strapped to the side. A few weeks ago, Sara would have wanted to bring a gun, just to be safe; now she brought a cat instead, and felt much more comfortable about it.
They stepped up to a kiosk where a young woman sat inside, playing on her tablet. The entire cart was covered in sunglasses. Boon took off the too large pair and began trying on various styles—none of which, Sara noted, were aviators.
Sara loved her aviators, but she knew they weren’t for everybody. She crossed her arms as Boon tried on pair after pair and checked herself in the mirror. Alister poked his head out of Sara's backpack and rested his paws on her shoulder, watching Boon with interest.
“So, how do we know where to look?” Boon asked, trying on her fourth pair of glasses, then going back to the previous ones and checking them again.
“Right now, we don’t. I’ll find out tonight, after I go to bed,” Sara said, reaching up to scratch Alister's chin. They had finally made plans to meet in the Aether for the second time. “First I want to get us a hotel, then we can go to the beach. This will probably be the last opportunity either of us has to relax for a long while.”
“Okay.” Finally choosing the pair she liked best, Boon reached over the counter and pressed her thumb to the payment pad. It scanned her identity, and the price was deducted from her account.
The economy of Earth had changed quite a bit, if Sara was to believe her dad. In the old days, people had to work for basic survival; now they only worked for luxuries. Everyone’s housing and food and medical care was provided for free, and Earth was no longer in the resource game. With the molecular printers, an asteroid could be towed in and broken down to its elements, then reassembled into anything—food, clothing, buildings, starships. Now people only worked if they wanted something more. The population used to be divided into ‘haves’ and ‘have nots’… now there were just ‘haves,’ and nobody suffered for it; there was plenty to go around.
“What do you think?” Boon asked, tilting her head to the side slightly as she looked up at Sara, showing off her choice. She had picked out a pair of black plastic frames with oversized black lenses. She looked like a fabulous bug.
Sara smiled. “Marvelous, darling. Simply marvelous,” she complimented, rasping her voice a little to sound like she was from the golden age of cinema.
Boon flashed a smile then turned to look down the street that headed toward the beach. “Where did you want to get a room?”
“Come on, Baxter told me about a little place he stayed the last time he was on leave,” Sara said, starting down the wide avenue that was full of tourists on day trips.
“Baxter, huh?” Boon asked playfully, but Sara acted like she didn't hear.
Am I that obvious?
They passed many glass-windowed storefronts, lining the main road. Boon had to scoot out of the way of several people when something caught her eye and she stopped watching where she was going. Eventually, Sara noticed that Boon had disappeared completely, and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, looking around for her. She spotted the small woman standing in front of a boutique shop, her thumbs tucked into the straps of her backpack and her mouth hanging open as she stared into the window.
Sara backtracked, fighting the current of people, until she was beside the girl. “See something you like?” she asked sarcastically, then looked in the window.
It was a dress shop. ‘Handmade, classic dresses! Made to order’ the graphic on the window read. Sara leaned back and saw the name of the shop. ‘Mr. Green Jeans’—despite a total lack of jeans on display in the front window.
“It’s beautiful,” Boon murmured, leaning in so close to the window that her nose nearly touched the glass.
Sara looked past the graphic to see what had grabbed Boon’s attention, and wondered how sheltered the poor girl had to have been, raised on that compound with her family. She was looking at a dress. A simple, sleeveless, skater dress.
“The color is amazing,” Alicia said, nearly drooling.
Sara had to look around to be sure she wasn’t the butt of some elaborate prank. “It’s blue,” she noted, cocking an eyebrow.
“I know, isn’t it pretty?”
“You know your uniform is blue, right?” Sara asked, still not sure this wasn’t a setup.
“I know, but it’s not the same,” she almost whined.
“Don't you own a dress? I mean, you have to own a dress; every girl has at least one dress,” Sara pressed, cocking her head to the side. Alister bumped his forehead against her ear and purred at her closeness. She reached up and scratched his chin in acknowledgment.
“No. Where I grew up, everyone wore white pants and shirts. Divinity’s Light preached that no one should stand out, so they took away everyone’s individuality,” she explained, not looking away from the dress in the window. “When I left, I immediately joined the Navy, and they provided all my clothes. These jeans
and a few pairs of shoes are the only clothing I’ve ever bought. Even this tee shirt is Navy-issued.”
Sara rolled her eyes, grabbed the shoulder of Boon’s tee shirt, and dragged her through the store’s open door. Boon was stumbling along behind her until she got her feet under herself and was able to pull out of Sara's grasp.
“What are you doing?” Boon hissed, half-hiding behind Sara.
“Making you try on the dress,” she said, waving to the young woman working a handheld stitching machine behind the counter.
The boutique was filled with bolts of cloth of all different patterns, and had that smell that lingers when there’s just a little too much dust in the air. Three mirrors stood around a low platform where, Sara guessed, a customer would have her measurements taken.
“I can't afford that,” she argued, glancing at the dress on display.
The woman waved back to Sara and set down her work in progress, then came around the counter and headed their way.
“What do you mean you can't afford it? You’re a fucking officer in the Navy. I mean, a low-ranking one, but still. How do you not have money? Everything is provided for you, we don't sell anything on the ship, and you just told me the only things you’ve ever bought were some shoes and a pair of jeans,” Sara recounted, looking down at Boon’s red face.
“I bought a hover bike,” she said out of the corner of her mouth as she smiled blankly at the approaching woman.
“A hover bike? Seriously?” Sara marveled at this whole new side of the normally-reserved woman.
“Yeah. I’ve always wanted one, and I found a shop that does them up custom. I’m too small for one off the salesroom floor.”
“A hover bike?” Sara asked again. She couldn't picture Boon racing around on one of the death traps. Now she was sure this was an elaborate prank. “Why?”
Boon gave her a puzzled look. “Because they’re awesome.”
“Hi, what can I do for you?” the saleswoman asked in the overly polite, customer service manner.
Sara smiled and pointed at the blue dress in the window. “Is that for sale?”
“Oh, yes,” the young woman said, brushing back some mousy brown hair that had escaped her ponytail. “I normally make dresses to order, but I do have a few in stock.”
She led them around a stand full of rolls of cloth to a rack on the wall filled with dresses of various designs. It looked like she just made whatever struck her fancy, because no two garments were alike—or from the same decade, it seemed. She slid a section to the side, revealing a copy of the blue dress from the window.
“It’s one of my most popular designs, so I always have a few on-hand in different colors,” she explained, showing both a red and a yellow version. “Would you like to try it on? It may be a little short on you, but you look like you have the legs to pull it off.”
Sara reddened slightly at the compliment. “Actually, it would be for my friend, here,” she said, pushing Boon out in front.
The woman’s eyebrows rose, and she said, “Oh, well then, I may have to take the hem in just a bit. Come with me, dear,” she said, guiding the stunned Boon to a curtain and pulling it back to reveal a changing room. “Slip it on and come out so I can see about adjustments.”
Boon stumbled into the changing room, and the woman slid the curtain closed.
This woman knows how to get a sale. Sara smiled. “So, are you Mr. Green Jeans?”
The sales associate laughed. “Oh, that. Well, I started out making designer jeans, but got bored with it and switched to dresses. I kept the name because it was such a hassle getting the sign up on the building in the first place. Oh, I think she’s ready. Are you decent?” she asked the curtain.
“Um, I can’t reach the zipper.”
The woman whipped back the curtain and revealed a barebacked Boon, who yelped and clutched the front of the dress to her chest. “Let me help you out with that, darling,” she offered, deftly zipping the dress before Boon could even move. “Come out and take a look at yourself in the mirror.”
Sara had to smile. Boon looked great; the dress was the perfect cut for her small frame, and the blue color made her blonde hair seem richer, and complemented her blue eyes perfectly.
The look on the girl’s face when she saw herself in the mirror was worth making her put the thing on. Her jaw dropped as she took in the halter style top that ended in a high waist, and the layered skirt that flared out around her just slightly.
Sara stepped up, making a ‘not bad’ face as she nodded her approval. “Damn, Boon. You look great in that,” she said admiringly.
“Thanks, but you know I can’t—”
“My treat,” Sara cut her off. “Think of it as a training gift, if there is such a thing. Fuck it, we’ll call it a thing. It’s your training gift.”
The woman began to fuss with the cut and fit of the dress with practiced hands, making marks with a small piece of chalk. The last thing she did was pin the hem of the dress four centimeters shorter, revealing more of Boon’s legs. The effect was that she now looked six centimeters taller.
“Do you like it?” the woman asked, smiling at Boon’s overwhelmed expression.
“I love it,” she breathed, smoothing down the skirts with both hands.
“Good! Take it off, and I can make the adjustments while you wait. It shouldn't take more than ten minutes,” she said, shooing Boon back into the changing room and closing the curtain.
Sara saw a rack of bathing suits to her left, and, realizing they didn't have any swimwear, picked out two string bikinis with a nice crocheted design along the edges. She figured if they only had to tie them, they wouldn't have to try them on. She grabbed a white one that matched her knit cap and a red one for Boon, just to mix it up a little, then wandered back over toward the changing room.
She and Mr. Green Jeans stood in silence for a minute, until Sara said, “You’re really good, you know that?”
“At what, making dresses?” the woman asked, a half-grin on her face.
“That too,” Sara grinned back.
9
They checked into the little hotel that Baxter had mentioned, after wandering down two wrong side streets looking for the place. “The Quiet Hideaway” only had ten rooms, but it seemed all ten had been built with meticulous care. Their room’s floor plan was open, with the two king-sized beds in small, private rooms on either side of a shared living space that opened out onto a furnished balcony. While the entrance to the hotel had been down a tight alley, the rooms were on the top floor, so that the view was uninterrupted all the way to the water.
Baxter has some good taste, Sara noted as she threw her bag on her bed.
“We’re really just going to go hang out at the beach for the rest of the day?” Boon asked, yelling from the other bedroom to be heard.
“It’s not like we have a lead just yet. I’m going to see if there’s anything on Cora's core that can help, but I can do that anywhere, so why not take advantage of the beach while we’re here?” Sara answered, pulling the two bikinis from the shopping bag.
“I don't have a suit,” Boon said, turning just in time to have both the top and bottom of the red bikini hit her in the face. She quickly snatched them from the air, taking a second to recognize what they were. “Oh, wow. I’ve never worn so little in public before.”
Sara laughed from the doorway, “That’s a pretty conservative suit compared to what I’m sure we’ll be seeing. Get changed. We’re burning daylight, Blondie.”
Sara leaned back on the wooden beach chair. She was still wearing the white knit hat, but it matched the crocheted bikini perfectly, and she rather liked not having people stare at her unusual hair color. The bikini fit just right and complemented her pale skin. She knew she would be a little burned that night, but her burns usually tanned by the next day, and she could really use the vitamin D.
She closed her eyes and let the sun warm her skin, making up for the last few weeks she had spent under artificial light. The dron
e of people speaking and kids playing and the ever-present sound of the crashing waves became a white noise she could clear her mind to.
Until she heard Boon cursing under her breath and rummaging in their bag. The hotel had provided a woven bag, along with some beach towels and flip flops, and Alicia was in the process of dumping the contents of the bag out on the sand.
Alister had been curled up under Sara's chair, out of the sun, but when the towels hit the ground, he climbed out from under the seat and burrowed his way into the heap, his tail sticking out and slowly flicking back and forth.
“What the hell, Boon? Don't get sand all over everything,” Sara scolded, reaching into the pile of towels and personal items to grab her arm tablet. “I don't want to be picking sand out of the ports on this thing.” She banged the side of the tablet on her palm to dislodge a few granules.
“Sorry, I can't find my sunglasses. I think I left them in the room,” she said, looking inland toward the hotel, as if she could escape.
“They’re right there.” Sara pointed at the neck of the tee shirt Boon had insisted on wearing over her suit.
Boon looked down and saw the black glasses hanging from her collar. “Oh. Right.”
She sheepishly pulled them out and slipped them on her face. She then looked around to see if anyone was looking her way. When she was satisfied that there was not a crowd forming to stare at her, she pulled off her tee shirt and laid back, feigning comfort.
Sara just watched her for a while, paying special attention to the tendon that stood out more and more prominently from her neck the longer she ‘relaxed’.
Wow, how can she be this shy?
“Boon,” Sara said, still staring at her sideways from her beach chair.
Boon didn't move, but Sara could see she was staring up into the sky like an animal frozen with fear.
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