by K A Bledsoe
“Are you sure about this?” asked Mill. “Those are fragile specimens and we should wait for one of our own shi—”
“No!” Bondle took a deep breath. Despite his eager helpfulness and brilliance, Mill wasn’t truly aware of the implications of their latest research. “Sorry, Evan but as I told you, these need to get home as soon as possible. I am just grateful that these people aren’t asking too many questions.” He made shooing motions. “Go. Start prepping the samples. They’ll be here in less than a week.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked, still wringing his hands.
“I’m going to forge some permits.”
***
Diarmin sat on his workbench, staring at the mostly empty cargo bay. He had started to pace it off to be sure of the space available, but he didn’t need to. He knew this cargo bay like the back of his hand as well as the rest of the entire ship. There wasn’t a space he hadn’t crawled into, worked on, or patched up. The measuring had only been an excuse to move, so he forced his feet toward his bench and sat, fighting against the urge to get up and do something.
“Daydreaming?”
He had known Lenore was coming down the ladder but didn’t look at her.
“Trying to figure out which corner to put my worktables in so they aren’t in the way of the cargo.” He knew his tone was surly but didn’t quite know how to fix it.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have any projects down here since it appears someone will be monitoring the cargo.” Lenore’s tone was determinedly light, but it annoyed rather than reassured him.
“I won’t have anything important, just the usual tinkering.”
“Why don’t you use one of the extra rooms? That way it can be locked and—”
“What do you want, Lenore?” Again, he hated himself for his churlishness but the longer they had gone without speaking, the harder it became to talk. He still couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye.
The fingertips of her left hand tapped continuously on the tabletop and he risked a glance. She was looking at the floor and what he could see of her face showed a complete lack of expression. That meant that she was holding all her emotions tightly in check, like she had been trained to do.
She was reverting to her old ways just like he was. This isn’t good. But how…?
“Diarmin, this situation is, well, it’s not good.” She stopped tapping and lightly clasped both hands in front of her body. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her head up and their eyes met. He immediately felt his heart lift and regretted the distance that had grown between them.
“I was thinking the same thing,” he said, feeling a slight smile. But his next words that slipped out stopped both it and the smile that had begun on Lenore’s face. “I am not quite ready to forgive and forget, but I’m willing to try to put it aside for the mission.”
“Okay,” she said. “I suppose that is reasonable. But…” she looked down at her clasped hands and tapped her thumbs together. “How do we go from here? And more importantly, I have been thinking that we need to tell the kids more about our backgrounds. After all, their lives are going to be as much in danger now. Especially after Daviss.”
“I’ve had similar thoughts. But where do we start?”
Lenore shrugged and they both stood quietly.
After only a few breaths of contemplation, both Allison and Quinn entered the cargo bay.
“Latest course change complete. We are out of transwarp and will be at the coordinates for the route to the planet in two hours,” said Quinn as he handed the pad to his father.
“Good job. Thanks, Quinn,” said Diarmin. But when Quinn and Allison remained unmoving, he felt his brow furrow. “Was there something else?”
The siblings looked at each other, and Quinn nodded for Allison to speak.
“We were wondering, Dad, Mom,” she said, voice slightly hesitant. “Since we’ve got a couple of hours and can’t do anything until we hear back from Bondle…how did you two meet?”
“We know you met while working but,” Quinn gestured to his sister. “Alli and I were talking about it, and we realized we’d never heard the full story or any details for that matter.”
Diarmin’s head swiveled to Lenore whose head was doing the same. They smiled as their eyes met. Trust their brilliant children to find what they couldn’t; a way to begin talking about the difficult past. His smile stayed as he looked back at his children.
“We met after your mother kicked my ass!”
Chapter Eight
The family arranged themselves on various seats in the lounge, a more comfortable setting for storytelling.
And maybe a discussion afterward, thought Lenore.
“Did you really kick Dad’s butt?” asked Quinn.
“Sort of. But to be honest, that first time, I think he let me.” Lenore looked at Diarmin who grinned and shrugged, neither confirming nor denying.
“That first time?” asked Allison. “How many times were there?”
“Too many to count over the years,” said Diarmin. “But most did take place when we first met. Your mother didn’t like me very much.” Both kids’ heads turned back to Lenore, mouths open, but she held up her hands.
“Enough. We can do question and answer all day, or I can tell you the story.” Their mouths snapped shut and they settled in.
“Ok.” Lenore gathered her thoughts, taking her time. She had to make sure nothing slipped out that the children weren’t quite ready to know.
“I was still a Xa’ti’al and assigned to protect a prominent politician on Ortab. It was my first solo mission which is an important milestone for newly trained Xa. We had just finished an important voting session and our group, consisting of Senator Gregor, myself undercover as his aide, and two security guards, were walking toward his private transport. After a block, I noticed we were being followed, so I turned the group onto a different street to verify. Sure enough, the man following turned as well.
“I remember thinking that, whoever it was, was doing a poor job of tailing us, and I had no doubts I could take him. So, in order to avoid confrontation, I put my arm through the Senator’s and steered him around another corner, leaning into him, pretending to flirt with him, whisper in his ear, that sort of thing. I placed a protection field on the Senator and ordered the guards to keep him going. They positioned themselves between the Senator and the follower and hurried along, which allowed me to await whomever came around the corner. In a matter of seconds, he appeared. I dropped him with a simple jab to the solar plexus and pulled out my hidden blaster.
“Flat on the pavement, the man held his hands out and spoke, his voice hoarse from my hit. ‘Whoa, there. A simple ‘hello’ would have sufficed. No need for violence.’ Then his fingers moved in a complicated signal that meant he had been sent by the Xa’ti’al. It wasn’t quite right, but most who aren’t actually Xa rarely get it exact.”
Lenore grinned at Diarmin who wrinkled his nose and huffed, but she knew he wasn’t really angry. She continued her story.
“‘Let me see the other proof,’ I told him before I would lower my gun. He nodded and slowly, which was also a sign he knew Xa, moved his left hand and flipped up his jacket collar to show a pin that identified someone as a messenger for the Xa’ti’al. I tucked my weapon away and held out a hand to help the man to his feet.
“He took my hand and pulled himself up, then just stood there grinning at me. ‘Nora Soove? Though with that demonstration, I don’t really have to ask.’
“Needless to say, I was irritated at this man’s casual demeanor. ‘You have a message for me?’ I said, carefully keeping my tone neutral.”
Diarmin snorted and Lenore looked at him. “Ok, maybe some irritation slipped out. Anyway…
“‘Not that you asked, but I’m Kel,’ he told me. He was dressed in loose, comfortable pants and a light shirt that I could barely see through his open jacket. The jacket was a deep blue, with pockets that were both obvious and, by the bulges around his
body, hidden.
“I stood there silently with my arms crossed, waiting for the message. Kel sighed, rolled his eyes and spoke the line he had been paid to tell me.
“‘The bird is to be set free.’
“I would have been less shocked had he pulled a blaster on me. That message was a code for me to abandon my guard duties immediately.
“‘What? Why? Are you sure that was the message?’ I asked.
“He looked annoyed as he answered, ‘Of course.’ He flicked his collar. ‘You don’t earn these by misquoting messages. So, let’s go.’
“‘Wait’, I replied as I started back toward the Senator. ‘I need to warn—’ He stopped me by grabbing my arm and it was a sign how upset I was at his message that I didn’t protest.
“‘You are not supposed to. The message was to be for immediate response.’
“‘You were told that?’
“‘No, but I have done this often enough that I know the procedure.’
“I jerked my arm out of his grasp and went to warn my former charge anyway, feeling that I couldn’t just leave him wide open to attackers. Yes, he had been kind of a slimeball, but it didn’t feel right to simply abandon him. I strode to him and his guards to tell them I had been recalled and that he should be extra careful. I left with him screaming insults and threats of suing the Xa’ti’al. When I returned, Kel was nowhere to be seen. I went immediately to the spaceport as orders are specific with that particular message. I didn’t bother to retrieve anything like clothes or personal items. As a Xa, I had all the important items with me and anything else was simply window dressing for the part.”
Lenore suddenly looked up, aware she had been rambling with too much detail about the Xa and her personal life. The wide eyes of her children and inquisitive tilt of Diarmin’s head told her of her error. As she tried to focus her thoughts, the com beeped with an incoming call.
“Awwwwww,” said Allison. “Just when it was getting good.”
“Let them leave a message,” added Quinn, evidently also wanting to hear more.
“Now, that’s probably our new client, Quinn,” said Diarmin. “More stories later.”
The children grumbled but didn’t argue as Diarmin followed Lenore to the bridge to answer the call. The look he gave her was one of relief and she knew why. The story hadn’t had a happy ending because shortly after Lenore left, the Senator had been killed.
And Diarmin had been the one to do it.
Chapter Nine
Diarmin watched Lenore as she opened communications. He remembered those days when they had met quite vividly. He didn’t talk about it much, but he had an eidetic memory and Lenore’s recitation had brought back all those experiences, including the ones he would like to forget.
“Ah, Mr. Bondle. Do you have what I asked for?”
“Of course. I am transmitting the permit and contract along with our exact location of the landing site.”
“Very well. We will contact you when we are close.”
“How soon do you think that will be? These samples are active for only a short amount of time once stored so timing needs to be as accurate as possible.”
Lenore glanced at Diarmin but didn’t wait for a comment. “I believe we can be there within forty-eight Standard hours. Again, I will contact you an hour out.”
They were only about a day and a half away which caused Diarmin to wonder why Lenore had added a few hours to their arrival time.
“Wonderful, wonderful and thank you. I have already cleared your landing with the spaceport so you can land directly, no need to check in. The last line of the permit shows the needed authorization. Bondle out.”
The line disconnected before Lenore could respond, and Diarmin saw her eyes narrow. She punched the toggle to the intercom, her finger a bit too forceful.
“Allison, come to the bridge please. We need to do some digging.”
“Sure, Mom.”
“I was right. Those narrow eyes mean you aren’t happy about something,” said Diarmin.
She looked directly at Diarmin. “Have you ever known a spaceport to give advance permission?”
“No,” he answered. “Especially not one from a new colony. Any chance to slap fees on a visitor in order to help finance a building economy.”
“Exactly. Ah, Alli,” said Lenore as she tapped a few commands into her console. “I have transferred these documents to your station. First order of business, test the authenticity of the permit.” She tucked her hair behind both ears like she always did when seriously getting down to business, then pulled up a chair to sit next to their daughter.
“I’m heading down to finish prepping the cargo bay,” he said to the ladies. Both gave an absent wave without taking their eyes off the screen. Diarmin hid a grin. Like mother, like daughter. He was going to tell them he’d get Quinn to help, but he knew they wouldn’t answer.
Shaking his head, he headed to find his son. He was relieved that his clever children had found a way to relieve the tension, but they would have to hear the entire story someday.
For now, they had a job to do.
***
“Well, it looks pretty clean to me,” said Quinn as he jumped off the ladder onto the cargo bay floor, then gave an “oof” as he landed. “I keep forgetting that our gravity is back to normal.” He flexed his knees and then walked toward his father who was standing next to his work bench.
“I always keep it clean, you know that,” said Diarmin.
“Except this.” Quinn spread his hands to indicate the area that his father referred to as his work bench even though there was no bench. It consisted of tables forming three sides of a square and a rolling chair that allowed him to push himself from pile to pile of his various projects.
“Hey, disorganization is a sign of an active mind and imagination,” said Diarmin.
“Imagination is right,” said Quinn as he lifted what appeared to be a ball with imbedded metal spikes. “What is this for?”
“I use that to test the personal protection fields.”
“And this?” He reached for a jumble of circuits.
“Don’t touch that!”
Quinn pulled back, startled at the near yell.
“Sorry, Quinn, it’s just that it looks harmless but there’s a charge running through that. You have to handle it with plastic only. Metal or flesh will set it off.” He picked up the object with a pair of plastic tongs and transferred it to a plastic box on another table. “I called you down here not to clean but to help move these tables. Let’s try the corner under the ladder. Keep my little projects out of the way.”
“I don’t think all the tables will fit in that space, Dad, unless you cover the hatch to the engine room.”
“Not all, just one tucked between the wall and hatch. As far from the cargo bay doors as possible to keep away prying eyes. The rest of the tables we can fold up and stack in one of the extra bedrooms along with most of my projects.”
As Quinn helped him box up whatever his father allowed him to handle, he noticed that Diarmin seemed less tense.
Good, Allison’s idea worked. But Quinn still felt guilty.
“Dad?”
“Hmmm?” he answered absently as he lovingly wrapped what looked like an old-fashioned mace sprouting wires.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” He looked at Quinn, a slight frown on his face.
“For overhearing what you said about, you know, about years, months and days.” Quinn looked down, guilt weighing on him. His father said nothing for a long moment so he continued. “And for kind of making Mom tell me about it.”
“Quinn, there is no reason for you to apologize.”
“But I caused the fight between you and Mom.”
Diarmin chuckled softly, but when Quinn looked at him, he still looked sad and the stress lines around his eyes hadn’t gone away.
“You didn’t cause that fight. And you know your mother can’t be made to do anything she doesn’t want to do.
”
“But I—” Quinn stopped himself short before he admitted that he knew of a few ways to emotionally influence his mother, and incidentally his father as well.
“We should have discussed how to tell you and Alli about our backgrounds years ago. I was angry because we were supposed to tell you together but she…” Now it was Diarmin’s turn to interrupt himself. “Anyway, we have worked things out and decided that you two are old enough to know most of our stories. But later,” he said. “We need to get this done before our guest comes aboard.”
Quinn closed his mouth on his many questions and the fact that his father had said 'most' instead of 'all' of their stories.
Chapter Ten
The ship was an hour away from the planet, but Lenore had ordered it to a stop when Allison told her the latest findings.
“You’re sure?” she asked from the command seat.
Allison tried very hard not to roll her eyes. She knew her mother wasn’t questioning her abilities, merely needing to be absolutely certain of the information, especially for something of this magnitude. And that took multiple explanations and confirmations.
“I am positive. The permits have the correct names signed, but when they are placed next to authentic signatures,” she tapped a button, putting up both on the display screen. “You can tell that they don’t match. It’s not even close, definitely an amateur job. And,” she continued as Lenore made a sound in her throat that couldn’t quite be a growl. “And there are no official applications filed with the authorities as you can see by this list I managed to pull.” She put a different display on the screen. “This is from the spaceport and this from the planetary government. Nothing to show that a request has been made for a ship to land away from the port or to haul anything off the planet.”
“They could just be slow in filing official documents,” Diarmin suggested.
“No, look. This shows that they have processed several in the last few hours, and the permit was from two days ago.” She looked directly at her mother who was deep in thought. Allison’s eyes flicked to her father who was sitting in the navigator’s seat, but his attention was also on Lenore. Quinn was at the research console, back to everyone else.