by Laura Kaighn
Coty grabbed her by both arms. “Dorinda, relax. This is a briefing, not a trial. The Alliance is at peace with the Vesar. You make it sound like we’re still in the twentieth century.”
Dorinda’s voice was steady when she countered his convictions. “Emotionally, yes. We still are. That’s what scares me. I saw it in Tlenck. I saw it in Vesarius. I even saw it in you. We’re still so eager to hate ... eager to kill.”
Coty reacted in a way that surprised her. Smiling broadly, Coty kissed Dorinda square on the lips. “You’re an idealist, Dori,” he exclaimed. “A right, old-fashioned idealist. And I do love you.”
Dorinda allowed a resigned sigh to escape her tensed body. In sudden defeat she relaxed within his grip. What could she say to that? “You better get in there before they decide to court-martial you.”
Coty sulked, his impassioned gaze falling. The captain’s voice was thick when he asked, “You’ll head on up to the park then?”
Dori nodded solemnly. “I’ll be in Old Forge. I’ll leave a message with the owner of the general store or the old motel.”
Michael’s jasper gaze was as soft as molding clay when he kissed her forehead tenderly. “Then I’ll catch up with you later. Go find your peace, my love.” With a somber nod Dori returned the sentiment with an ardent hug then pivoted toward the lift doors. As she walked away, Dorinda could feel Coty’s calm eyes on her back. She glanced his way, gave him a small wave then stepped into the lift. Commanding it to take her to the parking garage, Dori thought of Noah and Tundra investigating the big city alone. Silently she recalled them. It was time to leave.
* * *
A little over two hours later, Dorinda slowed the hover and pulled into a highway rest stop outside of Malden-on-Hudson, New York. Her companions needed to stretch their legs. “You two’re awfully quiet,” she observed as Tundra and Noah wandered around the small wooded area sniffing at the foliage and investigating the scents left by previous visitors. When neither of them answered her, Dorinda nodded thoughtfully. “You don’t want to disturb me while I’m driving … and thinking.” Her two Kin Companions, though unable to understand complex concepts, nonetheless comprehended Dorinda’s brooding silence. She was driving the hovercraft north, along Route 87 – a road she had taken many times before when visiting her parents in North Carolina.
When they’d finished their reconnaissance, the malamute and otter cantered back to her. Dorinda knelt to hug them both. “I’m glad you’re with me. I don’t feel lonely because of you.” Dori cradled Noah’s round head in her hands. “You’re my sense of humor, Slink. And you, Tundra,” she said ruffling the dog’s thick mane. “You’re my strength. Vesarius was wise to give us each other.” Dorinda stood again. “Come on. We can just make the park before twilight. I hope there’s a motel still standing that’ll give us a room for the night. The hover’s a little cramped for camping.”
The trio strolled to the rented vehicle, climbed in, and Dori veered it back onto the roadway amidst so far light ground traffic. “I’m glad Michael deterred me from trying the higher traffic lanes. Look up there, Noah. Not enough room for an otter to fly in.” Hovers wove in and out of six lanes, speeding along at better than one hundred twenty kilometers per hour at an altitude of thirty meters. “You’d think some of them would come down here where it’s not so crowded.” Dorinda returned her eyes to the roadway. Her hover hummed along at a more modest ninety-six KPH.
As the day progressed, Dorinda became more confident of her driving skills. She relaxed and found herself enjoying the scenery and the company of her two Kin. By four o’clock, they had reached Guy Park outside Amsterdam. Dorinda stopped at a drive-thru diner for a well-deserved meal. With boxed dinner in lap, she drove back to the Mohawk River. Together the trio settled down on the cool grass, and Dorinda shared a picnic with her friends.
“Sorry, guys. You’ll have to settle for roast chicken and carrot sticks. I don’t want to rack up too big a bill on Michael’s debit account.” Dorinda opened the warm cardboard box and pulled out a steaming leg for Tundra and a half breast for Noah. After she’d divided up her fresh salad, she nibbled the remainder of the half chicken herself. “He’s already paid for the hover, and I don’t know how much the motel room will be for tonight.” Dorinda next poured hot vegetable soup into a deep, pressed paper plate and bowl. “I’m glad the cook understood we were sharing this.” She sipped her own portion from the plasticene container.
Finishing, Dorinda sat cross-legged against a tree content to watch Noah frolic in the chilly river nearby. After thirty minutes, she called an end to the swim-and-splash tag Tundra was playing with the otter along the bank. “That’s enough excitement, boys. We still have over two hours of driving ahead, and it’ll be dark before then. Let’s go.”
Dorinda strolled back up the grassy knoll to her rented hover but turned to consider the scene behind. She was glad to see the Mohawk River had been well maintained. In her time it had been almost too polluted from agricultural runoff to swim in. Dorinda glanced around at the surrounding trees and park benches; it was still a pretty place. “Hope my woods are as secure,” she murmured to herself. Tundra barked his hopeful wishes too, and Dorinda smiled. “Tomorrow we’ll rent a cottage, and I’ll show you those woods.” Settling into the hover, Dorinda shoved the door closed and hit the ignition button. The starter clicked several times before turning over. “That sounded different. Hope we don’t run into trouble with it.” But after Dorinda maneuvered out of the parking area and into the heavier traffic of the afternoon rush hour, she’d already dismissed the hover’s slow start.
By sunset, Dorinda’s adventurous mood had changed. The surrounding hills, farms, and small towns had within miles melted into the heavy woodland that was the Adirondack Park. Memories of autumns past surfaced like bubbles in a stream, popping into her consciousness with sudden clarity before dispersing in rings of faded images. A century had transformed the landscape but not the feel of the land. Where quaint cottages had once stood, more modern versions had been built to take their places. Where the Woodgate Firehouse had sat, a larger facility now hunkered, equipped with an extravagant array of forest firefighting machinery, including what looked like two massive hovercraft dumpers for aerial assaults.
“Boy, to see one of those in action,” Dorinda heard herself say. Then they were gone, and the sun bid its farewell leaving the way suddenly dark and obscured by the towering evergreens that lined the road – silent sentinels to an ancient world. Flipping on the hover’s headlights, Dorinda beamed. “It’s still the same. Oh, Noah, it’s still beautiful and mysterious. You two’re going to love it here. Maybe we can persuade Michael to take his retirement here instead of on Drianara Four. This is Earth, after all. Our home.”
Twenty-five minutes later, as Dorinda slowed the hover through Thendara and past the restored Adirondack Centennial Railroad Station, a deep ache assaulted her heart. “I can’t believe I’m feeling homesick.”
Noah, sensing her distress, sauntered forward to rest his chin on her lap.
“In the morning, we’ll see if my cottage is still there. We’ll walk in the woods. And you can take a dip in the lake, Noah.” Dorinda patted the otter’s round skull. “The water’s cold this time of year, but there’ll be ducks and herons about. There used to be a pair of marsh hawks too. They nested across the point from my house.” Remembering them she explained, “The male was a regal gray. She was speckled brown, with a long striped tail. I never saw them fishing. They must’ve caught rodents along the marsh on the northwest end by Black Bear.” Dorinda recalled more images of her cottage home: the blue spruce her husband had planted, the blueberries she had gathered. Dorinda imagined her screened porch with Casey standing inside the door. The collie’s white-tipped tail wagged in greeting.
Dorinda’s milk-washed kitchen cabinets were next in her walk-through memory, as was the dark-paneled bedroom with its white pine bed and six-drawer dresser. She recollected the bed last she’d seen it – rumpled a
nd vacant. Someone had not slept soundly. Dorinda’s mind retraced her steps through the house, out the side door to the porch. There, two bodies lay curled against the morning chill. Casey’s furry breathing seemed uninterrupted by the heavier Vesar sprawled asleep, his arm flumped across the collie’s shoulder.
“Oh, Vesarius,” Dorinda murmured to herself. “If ... If only you were still here. My new life began when I met you.” Tundra whimpered in shared despair. Blinking her glassy eyes at the streetlight lined road leading into Old Forge, Dorinda flipped off the hover’s high beams. “Sorry, boy. I didn’t mean to let my mind drift like that. Guess I’m tired.” She checked Michael Coty’s chronometer strapped to her wrist as they cruised along the main street. “Well, it’s seven-thirty. We made good time. Let’s get a room and sack out.”
As Dorinda slowed the hover through downtown Old Forge, she marveled at the rustic buildings and tree-lined sidewalks of her old town. “Look, Noah. There’s Dan Hawthorne’s old house. It looks exactly the same! And Old Forge Hardware’s still in business. Now that’s a landmark! Oh, no, the old pizza parlor’s gone. It’s ... I can’t tell.” Coasting around the bend, Dorinda padded the brakes and pulled into the parking lot of the colonial styled, single-story motel across the street from what was once the Tourist Information Center. “It seems different somehow. Lonely.” She glanced into the hover’s rear-view mirror. “Old Forge feels deserted, even this late in the season.” She poked the auto-park button and shut off the engine. Then, climbing from the hover, Dorinda tugged free her nylon duffle bag. She let Tundra and Noah out before locking the vehicle with her thumbprint. The dark security pad beside the door latch glowed to life. “Come on.”
The Kinpanions followed Dorinda up the two steps to the motel’s full length open porch. “We can sit out here tomorrow and watch the sunrise over Mt. McCauley,” she promised noting the Adirondack chairs and benches lining the inner wall. Then, holding the lighted entry hall door wide for her companions, Dorinda entered and guided Tundra and Noah to the front desk. There a middle-aged woman of American Indian descent glared at the two animals in her lobby.
“May I help you, Miss?” the woman asked flatly.
“Yes, Ma’am. I’d like a room for the night, perhaps longer. Can you tell me? Are there any cottages for rent up at Eighth Lake? I’m interested in staying at least a month.”
“The rental office is closed now. You’ll have to try in the morning.” The woman pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders. “And I don’t know about any vacancies. You’ll have to talk with Danny Hawthorne. His dad owns some cottages north of here. Think he’s got a couple on Eighth.”
“Dan - ?” Dorinda was surprised and suddenly pleased. “Is his an old family to this area? I used to know a Dan Hawthorne.”
The dark haired woman shrugged noncommittally. “I been here only seven months. New owner. I’m from Oklahoma. Tom Hawthorne’s a park ranger, wildlife warden for the county. Only Dan I know is his boy.” The woman thought for a moment. “Tomorrow’s a school day. You’ll have to get up early, by seven, to catch him before he leaves for high school.”
Dorinda nodded. “Thank you. Now, may I have a room? If I can get a cottage, I’ll only need one night.”
“I’ve got vacancies. But you’ve got them.” The older woman pointed to the two attendant creatures seated at Dorinda’s feet.
“Oh, they’re not pets,” Dorinda defended. “They’re Kin Companions.”
“Don’t matter. They’re animals. None allowed in the motel ... not even in the lobby.”
Dorinda’s congenial attitude soured. “Forgive me. I guess I misunderstood. I’ve been told Kin Companions were as welcome as people in public establishments.”
“Maybe on outpost worlds or in the city. But up here,” the motel owner explained, “we’re a bit more old-fashioned. There’s a woodshed out back if they need shelter from the frost.”
“No, thank you. I guess we can all sleep in the car.” Spreading an arm to herd her Kin toward the exit, Dorinda turned to leave.
Her peripheral vision caught the woman shaking her head. “Against the law to live out of your hover. Either you get a room or leave town, Miss. Sorry.” The owner’s tone was anything but apologetic.
“I don’t suppose there’s a hotel in town that allows Kin?” Dorinda asked regarding the motel owner’s tilted head. “Or the KOA?”
The woman smiled toothily. “Ain’t no hotel in town. Used to be, but we just don’t get the tourists anymore. We’re a little out of the way. And the KOA camp’s closed for the season.”
Dorinda sighed considering her options. Glancing down at her two companions, she apologized. “Well, it’s only for one night. What do you two think?” Tundra imaged a curled Noah atop Dorinda’s pillowed head. “I know,” she answered understandingly. “But what about you, boy?” Tundra snorted and imaged the motel’s verandah. “You’re a real trooper.” Dorinda patted the malamute on the shoulder, then reconsidered the expectant owner. “I guess I’ll need a bed. These two’ll take the porch if that’s OK.”
The woman grinned with genuine humor. “Very good.” She plucked the motel registry from under the counter. Before turning the book for Dorinda to sign, the motel owner scrawled in a room number. “You know, it’s near unlikely for anyone to have a Kin Companion around here, much less two of them. Where you from?”
Dorinda shrugged signing her first name. “Originally North Carolina, but recently I’ve taken up residence on the Alliance vessel Pompeii.”
The older woman’s dark, oval eyes grew in interest. “You’re an explorer then. Or a trader? That explains the Kin. Are you three here on leave?”
Dorinda started to sign a last name to the registry. “Yes. I’ve been surrounded by steel walls lately. I need open air, trees. A change of scenery.” Dorinda glanced around the motel lobby and half smiled in anticipation. “I used to live here, outside of town, that is.” When the motel owner’s eyes shined with sudden interest, Dori gulped an uneasy breath. Had she been recognized?
“Wait a minute. I recall your ship’s name now. It was in the periodical.” Dorinda sighed in partial relief as the woman rustled down under the counter for a moment. She tugged out a disheveled magazine-sized publication. “Here. Here, young lady. Read this. It’s last month’s Times. I hold onto the interesting ones. News around here’s kind of dull, so your story caught my eye. Top secret, I read.”
Dorinda took the proffered publication and considered the second headline on the front cover with interest. “Alliance Peace Mission Ends in Stalemate.”
The woman behind the counter was beaming. “The Alliance spokesperson didn’t say much, except that the government was grateful for the Pompeii’s efforts to initiate negotiations with the Orthops. Shame the peace talks didn’t get any further than a first meeting. I hope the Alliance plans to try again. If we can’t kill them, that is. They’re damn ugly, and more dangerous than a Vesar.” Dorinda’s gaze snapped up from her scanning of the New York Times. The woman must have interpreted her creased brow as a sign of disapproval for she added, “In my opinion.”
Dorinda’s stern reaction melted from her face. “I’ll read this, thank you, uh?”
“Jonny-Jean Boudinot. And you’re ...” Ms. Boudinot read the registry. “Dorinda J-.”
Dorinda chuckled. “I’m sorry. Let me finish that.” She took up the tethered stylus again and completed her task. “Jade. Dorinda Jade.”
“Well, Ms. Jade, I’ll need your account number for payment.”
“Yes, the room’ll be charged to Captain Michael Bear Coty of the Pompeii. His account number is XT4217 -95N39R. I have his access code for confirmation.” Dorinda watched the woman type in the number on her computer key pad, then flip the pad around.
When Dori hesitated, Jonny-Jean Boudinot explained. “You type in the access code.”
“Of course.” Dorinda flushed. She entered Coty’s two digit, three word code and saw the screen confirm it as correct. When th
e ‘X’s disappeared, she handed the pad back to its owner.
“Your room’s number twelve, just down the left wing here.” Jonny-Jean swept her arm out past the door in illustration. “If you’re hungry, I can heat you up some stew from dinner.”
Dorinda nodded graciously. “Thank you.” Then with a sheepish glance toward her Kin she asked, “Might my companions have some? They can use paper bowls, and they’ll eat outside.”
The woman’s brown eyes softened. “Follow me. I’ll give you the big, old dish the previous owner used to feed her dogs.” As Dorinda walked with her into the main building’s interior, Jonny-Jean explained. “You must forgive my policy about animals, but the old owner had five long-haired dogs. I was months cleaning fur out of every vent and closet throughout the entire complex. I really have nothing against Kin Companions.”
“Thanks for your kindness,” Dorinda said. “I understand your predicament. I used to have a collie that shed everywhere, especially under the refrigerator.”
“Refrigerator?” Ms. Boudinot glanced over her shoulder at Dorinda in puzzlement. “You mean a food preserver.” When Dorinda balked ever-so-slightly but nodded, the woman smirked at her strangely. “Haven’t heard it called a refrigerator since I was a child.” Obviously dismissing the discrepancy with her next stride, Jonny-Jean piloted the younger woman and her Kin past the motel’s meager eatery and into the stainless steel kitchen.
Taking an offered stool, Dorinda watched while Ms. Boudinot heated their meal. They soon shared stew from separate bowls and conversation from different worlds. It seemed Jonny-Jean Boudinot was thirsty as well: for information.
Dorinda, watching what she said, told the woman of the Orthop invasion, the attempt at a peaceful resolution, and its apparent failure. She said nothing of the time machine since Coty had already briefed her not to mention it.
The conversation then drifted to herself and her Kin. “They’ve only been with me about two months,” Dorinda explained sipping at the mug of coffee Jonny-Jean set before her. “Noah first, then Tundra after his Bondmate was killed during the peace talks.”
