The delivery was a small collection of dataspools, all of them concerning basic and advanced fact theory. Puzzled - he didn't order them - he dumped them in his kit bag for later.
Morris had just settled down when his 'comm beeped.
"It's about time," said Keyson, "I turn my back for five seconds and you vanish. You staying a while?"
"Yes. Unless there's another emergency."
"Slib. Would you like to have dinner with me this evening? I'm talking a non-synthetic, hearty and guaranteed bad-for-your-health hand-cooked meal."
"Your place or mine?"
She laughed. "That's lame, Morris. In town and I'll be there at eighteen hundred."
***
By the time six o'clock arrived Morris had showered and changed into his gray cloak and trousers, serviced his toolbelt and digested two journal articles. By the end of the second he could barely stand the wait. Oddly, he rather enjoyed it. Finally the door beeped.
"Welcome to my den of ini..."
Morris swept the door open, dialog fully planned only to completely lose the power of speech. Keyson stood in the doorway but a Keyson Morris had never seen!
Her hair, normally tightly braided and pinned out of the way, cascaded down her shoulders in soft brown waves. She wore a cream-colored creation that managed to both flow evocatively and cling tightly exactly where a tight cling did the most good. She wore makeup so subtle Morris couldn't see it, only the results of it and her perfume, rich and musky, rooted him where he stood.
"Hello," she said innocently, "What's wrong?"
"N-n... You're... beautiful!"
"Why thank you. I'll log that under 'compliments.' C'mon, Morris," here she winked, "I'm still Chief Engineer Keyson. This is just shore-leave Lydia and not the 'where is my wrench?' model."
"Model," said Morris, "Good word."
She laughed lightly and took his arm. "I have a hover waiting, dear, and I'm hungry."
On their way out several Techs looked at them with amazement. Rather, they looked at Keyson and then Morris. He felt his face heat up but she didn't notice.
"I do believe I'm a hit," she said, sitting against him in the back of the hover.
So much for not noticing!
"You really are beautiful."
"My ego thanks you, Morris. It is nice to know I'm good for something that doesn't involve a toolkit."
Morris thoroughly enjoyed their meal, of which he remembered nothing. Keyson occupied his complete attention. They talked about circuit strip repair, which Morris knew was not appropriate but she controlled the conversation. Somehow they ended up in a small park, overlooking a lake and sitting on a bench put there, no doubt, for just such occasions.
"Civilian clothes are nice," she said opaquely, "but they can be chilly at night." After a moment she nudged him. "I'm cold."
Though it felt like moving an arm made of hull armor Morris placed his over her shoulder. She snuggled in. After a while she spoke softly.
"Would you like to kiss me?"
Morris' heart began racing and he started to tremble. She turned toward him, tilted her head back and parted her lips. Shaking, he leaned closer, closer...
Morris' lips tingled when they met hers and it spread instantly throughout his body. It washed through him like fire and warmed his soul. He felt... Stars! He saw the stars in her eyes, hot bright points of ecstasy that fluttered around him. Time stretched to infinity...
"Nice," she whispered, laying her head against him, "Very, very, very nice."
After a long, pleasant time Morris felt tension creep into Lydia's body.
"I swore I wouldn't seduce you," she said, almost inaudible, "When we started, I swore not to."
"Why," he asked, though the word should have stuck.
"Because you deserve... more. You deserve to find things out... I mean..."
"On my own," he asked softly when she didn't speak.
"Yes. Something like that."
Morris reached up and stroked her hair.
"But I wouldn't have," he said, "I don't regret this. Not one milli! Don't you either."
Now he felt a smile.
"You're so sweet," she said, "Promise me you won't change."
"I promise."
Morris worked his hand to her neck and began massaging it.
"You have five hundred years to stop that," she said, "I'll do whatever you want."
"Why did you do... All of this?"
"For truth? You reminded me of me. You reminded me of me after I failed the placement. Being a Tech was all I wanted. It was my dream and the focus of my life."
"Dreams are good," he said.
"Yes, they are. But they shouldn't be everything. No one single thing should ever be the only thing in your life. Ever. I learned that the hard way."
"Well... Thank you again."
"Welcome."
After a time they took a hover back to the 'port. Morris walked Lydia to her quarters and himself back to the Guildhall. He stepped lightly and savored every nuance of everything he felt.
***
Departure from Spigot went much as from Dracos. Morris didn't have to draw a sidearm and Blakeschiff gave no briefing but Morris regretted neither. As Morris suspected Blakeschiff linked much deeper than before, though still well below the RFP threshold. After they unstrapped the routine returned to normal.
"Not a lot to do here," said Lydia, when Morris came to engineering, "The locals serviced her well."
More for practice than necessity Morris verified this. The drives still had a barely-detectable variance but he initialed over Lydia's signature, so no problem there.
"So what are our plans, Signor Tech?"
"Salad oil and grav pads?"
"Seriously," chuckled Lydia, "We're still on plus time."
"I thought I'd fix Jared's model and Jena's box. The Commander hinted that he had a briefing but also that he'd not release it until we cross into Halcyon space."
She nodded. "He does hold his silence well."
Morris and Lydia found Lace, Harkin and Delroy in the lounge. At his request Lace fetched her box. Morris spread a lightpad on a table and set out his tools. Woven of tough yet flexible thick optical fibers the pad provided a soft glow which, when combined with overhead light and his holospecs, gave full illumination from all sides.
As with most late Imperium artifacts this one was simple, durable and elegant to the point of decadence. At a half-heard request from Lydia Morris jacked an image feed into his 'specs. As he worked Morris talked through what he did, thoroughly enjoying himself in the process. Idly he commented on the symmetry present in places that needed none: the optical fibers, wires and circuits formed patterns and macro-patterns that had no effect on their function whatsoever. Before Morris began reconditioning the crystals themselves he felt a light touch on his shoulder.
"Lunch," said Lace softly, "I won't have you miss it on my account."
During the meal Lace seemed subdued, less willing than usual by far to participate in conversation. Lydia recounted to Kody and Jackson exactly what Morris had done. She only exaggerated a little and he didn't call her on it; both of the others enjoyed the tale. He did stop her once or twice for important details she omitted. During one of these he caught sight of Delroy paying rapt attention.
After lunch Lace sat beside him, visibly troubled. When he donned his 'specs and attached the feed she stopped him.
"Morris, don't," she almost pleaded, "I had no idea this would be so much work. I don't want you wasting your time on something that just isn't important. I don't want to take you away from the things you have to do."
"It's no problem," he assured, "For truth."
"But... No. I love it and I love my uncle whether it does anything or not. Please don't waste your time, Morris."
How Lydia managed to poke his ribs so hard without Lace noticing Morris did not know.
"Sig... Jena. It really is no problem. If I didn't really want to do this I wouldn't. I love restoring old
artifacts and I really enjoy working on things that don't have peoples lives or fortunes depending on them. Six-sigmas no blather."
Lace looked at Lydia, who nodded, then back to Morris.
"Now I know why the Guild prices are so high," she smiled.
Morris smiled back and started working. He finished just before dinner, noticing that his audience grew by Jackson, Kody and Blakeschiff. The commander nodded slightly and gave Morris a tight smile. When Morris closed the box and opened it again the crystals flickered and flashed and a pair of indistinct yet graceful holographic dancers frolicked above the box, to Lace's great delight.
Morris sensed a vague undercurrent in the strangely subdued dinner conversation. Blakeschiff brought it to a head when he announced he'd release information the next day. He said nothing of its nature but none expected that.
Lace sat across from Morris, strangely quiet. Lydia noticed and Morris could tell she intended to do something about it. When the others broke up after the meal Lydia moved toward Lace.
Alone for a moment, Morris approached Delroy. She had just started on a twisted diagram he couldn't fathom.
"Did you send me those spools," he asked without preamble.
"Yes." Still cold and distant. "Have you started them yet?"
"No."
She looked up, started to say something then decided against it. "Start them," she finally said, "After you do we'll talk."
Lydia called Morris over to where she and Lace sat.
"Technician Taylor," she said, "You have a job tomorrow."
"Yes?"
"I wonder if you might help me service the drives tomorrow."
"Of course," he said. She well knew he would!
"Polar. We'll have an observer."
***
"Good morning, Morris."
Lace met him in engineering the next morning. She wore a standard protective coverall, not comfortably, and had her hair pinned back.
"I hope you don't mind me watching," she said.
"Of course not. May I ask why?"
Lace thought a moment. "My company has two Techs on permanent assignment. I know that's expensive but I can't tell you a thing about them past their names. They're always there, though, and when something breaks they fix it. After yesterday I decided maybe I need to know something more about you. And them."
Morris smiled.
"Fair enough," he said, "If you're that interested I have a friend back on Dracos. I promise you he will be happy to tell you all you want to know."
She smiled warmly at this. "Deal! I think I'd like that."
Morris kept his smug smile to himself. Let Kelven see what it was like to have the tables turned on him!
With Lace's assistance the work moved slowly but help she did. Under Lydia's watchful eye and with Morris' careful instruction she accomplished a lot. She lacked the intuitive spark of a true Tech but she brought eagerness and a wonderfully open mind to every task she tried.
"I enjoyed that," said Lace when they finished, "Thank you Lydia and thank you Morris."
"You're quite welcome," said Lydia.
"Actuators next," asked Morris.
"No. The Commander's releasing information after lunch. That, I think, takes priority."
***
"I have the information you've been wanting," said Blakeschiff after lunch, "We will be engaged in a training mission at the University of Halcyon on Helene. They have assembled a group of faculty, graduate students and specialists in relevant fields. We have prepared both group and individual data for each of you."
With that he handed out dataspools. Upon receiving them everyone headed for their quarters.
Morris worked hard forcing himself to stay awake. Blakeschiff, he thought irreverently, desperately needed to take the Tech Academy communication courses. Although the information was there it was hard to glean through sheer monotony. Also, though the spool was terse and factual Morris could smell the politics behind it.
For himself Morris would have five students. Ted Jones and Vicki Teek were Halcyon technicians with an interest in League technique. He specialized in robotics as well as light and heavy mechanics, she in electronics, photonics and computer tech. Morris grinned at this: he made no distinction between disciplines. In addition to those two Morris had three graduate students: Tina Eisley, Ron Garrett and Gregory Polov. Morris felt a twinge of sympathy for the grad students; they would study under all five of the League team.
After he finished his students' bios Morris turned his attention to his curriculum and how he planned to teach it. Most of it comprised standard first- and second-year Academy information with nothing remotely approaching a security classification. After a while he began feeling confident about his assignment.
***
Mid-afternoon Morris started feeling restive. He worked up the best plans he could but he simply could not take any more of Blakeschiff's poorly-written data. Lydia had engineering hard-sealed so he wandered toward the lounge. Jackson and Harkin were already there and when Morris walked in the big man broke out in a huge grin.
"That's ten million halcies you owe me, Culle," said Jackson.
"Do I want to know," asked Morris, pulling a glass of chog.
"We had a small wager as to who would succumb next," explained Harkin, "I bet on Jena. You disappointed me, Morris. I was counting on your disciplined study habits."
"What disciplined study habits," asked Morris, face totally straight, "That stuff was boring."
Harkin barked an uncharacteristically loud laugh.
"For truth," continued Morris, "if a Tech had written it I'd still be there. We take classes in how to mix information-dense and not boring."
"Double-plus," said Jackson, "I do believe my spools would terraform Eauvert."
Now Morris chuckled. One of the gems of the Windy sector, Eauvert was a paradise world: perfect temperature, climate and atmosphere. Unfortunately all of its land but its polar icecaps sat under at least a meter of water.
"Jared," said Morris, "if you bring me your statue I'll start on it."
"I appreciate that Moe but you don't have to..."
"I want something to do," interrupted Morris, "I absolutely cannot finish my spools until I do something."
Jackson nodded and left. Lace walked in before he returned. She pulled a glass of double-strength chog, sat and lit a strong drugstick.
"Heaven's flames," she said, "Those spools are bo-ring. Someone needs to teach that man how to write."
"So, Culle," said Morris, "ten million halcies, was it?"
Lace speared Morris with a sharp look then turned it to Harkin.
"You and Jared. Flames!"
Delroy walked into the room, sat at the holocad and powered it up, all without speaking a word. Morris caught a quick swap of glances between them but he couldn't interpret it.
"Ahh! Company," said Jackson. He handed Morris the bundle containing the figure.
Morris spread out his tools and hooked in the feed. Jackson and Lace marveled at the collection of small and intricate gears when Morris dissembled it. Morris carefully cleaned and lubricated them and sealed them with a thin coat of protection. He found both light and sound sensors along with a host of burned-out micro-actuators and impellers. Morris repaired and replaced them carefully, marveling again at the decadent workmanship that went into it. When he finished he replaced the long-depleted power block with an induction-charge cell. He was almost ready to reassemble it when Lace stopped him for dinner.
"Amazing," said Jackson with none of his usual banter, "And you call that relaxing."
***
Dinner conversation revolved around Blakeschiff's information. He gave out a few more details but not many. Naturally. Though boring his spools were fairly complete. Lydia sat beside Morris and ate in silence.
"I must say, Signor Taylor," said Lydia, after dessert, "you are contagious. I finished this afternoon most of what takes me a day, ordinarily."
Jackson grinned suddenly at this
. Morris could tell by his expression that he thought of something, probably dirty, dealing with speed. Unfortunately for the big man Lydia caught it as well.
"Don't even think it," said Lydia, "You don't have the right tools for the job."
That took Jackson aback; his eyebrows shot up.
"And if you want to take my temperature you'd best wear a thermanull suit!"
Revenge! Jackson emitted a strangled laugh and blushed a brilliant crimson. Before long, though, he was laughing as hard as the rest. Lydia caught Morris' eye and winked at him.
Finishing Jackson's figure took Morris a while but he enjoyed it. After he reassembled and polished it it moved, bent and danced in response to the variable strobe Morris shone on it.
"Incredible," said Jackson, "I had no idea. Thank you, Morris."
"You're quite welcome. There's a standard induction cell in there now and I added a manual cutoff if you don't want it active."
Jackson nodded, wrapped it gently and took it away. Blakeschiff approached Morris.
"Fine work, Technician," he said.
It seemed to Morris that Blakeschiff's voice held less coolness. "Thank you, sir."
"May I borrow your restoration tools? I know some Techs are touchy about that."
"Certainly, sir," said Morris, "but if you have something you want restored I'll do it."
Blakeschiff actually smiled. "Thank you, Technician, but no. I have taken five Guild restoration courses and I am quite qualified. I also enjoy doing it. I do have a small diorama I've been working on."
Morris packed the tools carefully and handed them over. "If you run into trouble I'll gladly help."
"Thank you, Technician, I appreciate that. I will also lock these tools in the ship's safe when I am not using them."
"Thank you, sir."
When Blakeschiff walked out Lace motioned Morris to the table where she, Jackson and Harkin were setting up a game of something.
"That was interesting," she said, "Our commander does have a vice. What he said about your new tools. Are they rare and valuable."
Morris squirmed mentally a moment. "Well... Considering we're in link between Halcyon and the League, I suppose they're quite rare and..."
"Morris," she interrupted, "if I asked you how much they cost would it bother me?"
He shrugged. "It might, but it wasn't more than they're worth and I can get that back if I sell them."
She didn't particularly like that answer but Morris simply looked back evenly. He spoke nothing but the truth.
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