Now I was the one who was confused.
“What is it then??”
The old man grew quiet, trying to gauge my next reaction in return.
“This errand isn’t any kind of errand that I have you run at every point of the compass here in the Barren Wastelands or in Hallis. Or New Challis for that matter. It’s something more telling than your average, run of the mill request from me.”
I got situated on the bed. “Okay. I’m all ears. What’s so special about this request? Is it personal?”
Calis paused for a moment to consider the information which Tarnek relayed to him back in his workshop.
“It’s not personal, Isis. The request is from a third party affiliate who shall remain nameless who requires me to take a trip up to the Stratos City space complex.”
My face exploded in pure joy and happiness. “That’s great! I’m sure you’ll have a good time there!” I said, bouncing a bit on the bed in response.
Calis gave me a reproving look. One that stopped me in my tracks and made me rethink things in the process.
I got confused then. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“No. No, you didn’t. In fact…I’m sorry, but I am not the one who is going to the space complex on this errand of mine.”
“Who then?”
“Isis…do you really have to ask that question?” My teacher and mentor said with mild annoyance. “You’re the only one here who I am talking about. You’re the only one I am choosing for this heralded task.”
I stared at him in complete shock. At a total loss for words. It was a couple of minutes before I was able to say anything to him.
“I’m not qualified old man.”
Now it was Calis’s turn to be genuinely perplexed. Not too mentioned surprised by my choice of words.
“How can you sit there and say that?” He demanded lightly. “How can you say you’re not qualified?”
“Because I’m not. I don’t have the pass credentials to even begin to make the trip star side. Then there‘s the problem of me. Or rather–a problem of me going period.”
“How so?”
“Come on old man…! How can you sit there and profess ignorance? I’m a surface dweller! We’re not exactly the most welcome people up in the space complex right now. Especially given what happened during the Three Hundred Years War. Need I remind you how pivotal a role my family–my ancestors–played in that conflict? The Praetorial Guard get one whiff of my identity and I can pretty much kiss my individual freedoms goodbye.”
“Isis…they aren’t going to jail you like they did your father those many years ago. Remember?”
I pursed my lips in both fear and frustration.
“That’s not what they said at my father’s trial. My mother told me what happened during the cross examination phase. The Praetorial Senate still holds our family responsible for the loss of Caldara Base a century ago–because of something my ancestors did to turn the tide of war in the settlers’ favor. They viewed what happened then as capital murder. And outright treason.” I recalled in that instant.
“Yes, you’re right. What Michael and Mira McGowan did would be considered state crimes, it doesn’t mean that you–their great grand niece many times removed–would be held responsible for their actions.”
“That’s why I can’t take that chance, Calis. I don’t want to be blamed for something I didn’t do.”
Calis looked at me then. “And you won’t be. I can promise you that.” He said with full assurances.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because…let’s just say that things up there have changed so dramatically in recent years that any past crimes and such committed by one person would not be carried over to future generations of the same family line.”
I breathed out a big sigh of relief. “That’s good to know.”
“And the fact you just handed me an unexpected history lesson–just gave me an idea on how to proceed with this little errand of yours.”
“How so?”
“How much of the planet’s history do you actually know off hand?” Was my mentor and teacher’s personal challenge to me.
“The basics.” I answered automatically. “Why? Do you think my errand has something connected to our past?”
“If what my contact suggests is the truth–then yes. It would have some real definite real world connections.”
“And the chances for failure?”
Calis was quiet for a moment. “Very high. If it fails, it could have some catastrophic repercussions for all of humanity.”
The old man’s words got my curiosity piqued.
“How catastrophic? Are we talking world ending stuff here?” I ventured sagely.
“Pretty much. Though I won’t lie to you. It could very well be that. Which is why I want to you go in my place.”
I took what Calis said into consideration. I’ve done a lot of crazy and dangerous things in my life before, but nothing approaching this level of insanity.
But I nodded anyways–agreeing to his ham-handed proposal.
“Well, I’m not going there unarmed, old man. Last I heard, Stratos City was just coming off some kind of complex wide strike in its Business District and tensions among the shopkeepers are still pretty raw and on edge. Rumors have it that some were killed confronting the Praetorial Guardsmen that were sent to establish peace and order in some of the affected levels.” I told him.
Calis already knew that from watching the past live feeds on his monitors. “I’m aware of what happened during the month long strike.” He told me flatly.
I grinned unexpectedly in turn. “Good. Because I wasn’t going to argue with you anyways.”
“Perish the thought.” He murmured with subtle affection towards me.
I resumed eating what was left of my bean paste, lentils, and curry.
“I’ve heard of stories about the people living there though.” I said slowly.
“Nothing bad, I hope?” Calis intoned.
I shook my head. “Knowing where you came originally, I hope not.”
“Not everyone that lives in the complex is blood-thirsty and terrible.” My mentor and teacher conferred to me in passing. “I know the stories you kids were told were to sometimes scare you into submission or obedience, but it’s rarely like that. These people–sky dancers as they are called–are really just a group of organized pacifists.”
I nodded with some amusement on my face. “Is that why they are being led by a pack of wolves? Is because they are nothing more than sheep?”
Calis gave me one of his patient looks. “Isis…”
I giggled uncontrollably in that moment. “Sorry, old man. I didn’t mean you specifically. You’re not sheep. You’re more like a big cuddle bear at times when I‘m around.” Looking at him intently, I added: “Of course, you were a lot more affectionate when I was little though. That much I can recall.”
“That’s not helping.” He grumbled.
“See?” I said with a wink of my own. “You are a big softie. But that’s what I like about you. Love you for even. You have this big giant heart under that work shirt of yours even though you like to pretend otherwise.”
My teacher and mentor was momentarily touched by my words. But he also knew that this was one of my patented ploys in hindsight as well.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to butter me up for something.” He accused me right then and there.
I gave him what passed for a hurt look in return. “Me? Seriously? I haven’t asked you for anything special in quite awhile–even though I just had my 18th birthday.”
Calis’s suspicions were confirmed in the space of a moment.
“Now, I know you’re buttering me up. What is it, Isis? What do you want from me this time?” He pressed.
I shrugged innocently. “What makes you think I want something?”
“Because I know you all too well?”
I nodded while swallowing what I ha
d on my spoon–which wasn’t much. The canister was almost empty. But now I was still hungry all of a sudden.
Great. Wonderful.
My stomach let out a horrible noise to beat the band–catching me completely off guard.
I paused for a second in surprise. Even Calis looked at me, his own expression mirroring mine.
“I’ll get you something to eat to take care of that hunger of yours.” He announced then, stepping away from the counter and taking leave of me then.
I watched him go of course, wondering what he could possibly find in those vacuum-sealed MREs of his–which he had in storage–that could possibly curb my often times ravenous appetite?
Even mom wondered about that too–since asking me about it a few weeks ago during my last visit here–informing me on no uncertain terms that I needed to eat more to maintain a healthy diet.
Fat chance of that happening! I thought with supreme unhappiness in mind.
I did not even want to start looking like my younger brother right now at this current stage of my life–whom was beginning to get a bit round in the middle–because of all the fattening protein bars he had stashed in his bedroom closet somewhere. But he constantly reminded me that he needed the extra fuel to pass the time with on his numerous projects over–when he wasn’t making a colossal pig of himself at the dinner table.
So I sat there in complete silence and finished what was still in the canister and then looked around for the garbage can so that I could toss the spoon away.
I found it under the small sink next to the countertop and aimed my spent war trophy at the thing in question and managed to make a basket on the first try.
Not that I was trying to win, mind you. But doing it made me feel a lot better.
Then I smelled something heavenly and glorious coming my way in that next second and I started drooling uncontrollably as a result.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand in response, as Calis stepped inside his sleeping alcove at that moment and handed me a small tray that had a plate of something good–complete with a steaming cover on top of it.
“I think in honor of your very first trip up to the space complex, I would feed you something you haven’t had in awhile: Pasta rigatoni with actual meatballs in them for a change.” He announced.
Then he set it down in front of me on the bed.
I looked at the meal in complete astonishment. “Where did you get this, old man? You know this is one of my absolute top ten favorite foods in the whole universe!”
Calis smiled broadly in response to my statement of fact.
“I know. That’s why I made it. I figured that after today‘s events, you deserved a special treat.”
Lifting up the cover, I took in the cloud of smells that enveloped my face and it brought back happier memories as a result. Memories of a time when my family was whole and not torn apart as it was now.
I didn’t even know where to start first: The tender noodles drowned in joyous red sauce or the succulent meatballs themselves?
Meatballs it is! I quickly decided–taking the fork and spearing one with it from the plate that was now balanced onto my lap.
I started blowing on my treat because it had just come out of the food warmer in the workshop’s only kitchenette.
Taking a long overdue bite from the tip of my fork, my mouth exploded with pure pleasure and joy from the experience.
I started chewing quickly to savor the moment and then swallowed soon after.
“My god…!” I breathed in open amazement. “That is so good, Calis!”
“I’m glad you’re liking it. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to feed you it every day since you were here, but the usual food shipments to this part of the region was delayed for a bit over the past couple of months–hence the rations.”
I nodded in gratitude of the old man’s thoughtfulness and generosity–as I picked out a second meatball with a bit of noodle wrapped around my fork. I blew on that as well.
I did not need to burn my mouth! I thought to myself.
“Mom was a little annoyed when her shipment came in last week. Some things she ordered were a bit late than usual. And…we had a few things missing on top of that.” I revealed to Calis at that point. Then I ate what was on my fork in the next second after that.
“What did you get for your birthday?” He asked me then.
“I’ll have to show you. It’s in the pack I brought with me. My own special combat/weapons harness with utility pockets and clips for my mags, power cells, and a couple spots for my father’s utility knife–which I still have–along with that vibe blade that mom bought me from a passing trade caravan coming in from Forks Passage three months ago.” I unloaded on him point blank.
“She said it was better to carry a blade than just a blaster. Blasters usually have a bad habit of overheating from constant use. A vibe blade does not.”
“That’s true.” Calis said in full agreement–while watching me eat more of what was on my plate.
“Do you have any stun caps on you right now?”
“I brought a few with me–like always. But I haven’t any reason–or excuse–to use them lately. Things have been pretty quiet on the homestead. We haven’t had any problems with prairie bandits in about six months time.”
“I remember you telling me that. They usually concentrate their activities about thirty miles northeast of where you during this time of the year. But aside from some stray parties, they seldom come in at full force unless there’s a specific reason.”
I nodded. “I know. I tangled with their leader the last time we had a blowout. Lara was fucking pissed that she got cheated again out of my mom’s store of water rations.”
“Water rations this time?” Calis echoed in surprise. “That’s highly unusual. For them I mean. That particular group of hers is usually after spare parts, weapon caches, and dry food stores.”
“Yeah. But everything turned out okay. I asked mom to share my extra rations with them as compensation for the melee. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t using them anyways–as they were just sitting there in the back pantry collecting dust in their shrink wrapped cartons.”
“That’s mighty generous of you.” My mentor and teacher pointed out with personal pride on his part. “But I’m sure that stunt cost you in the end.”
I shrugged indifferently. “I survived. It wasn’t that hot out anyways–being summer and all.”
“Still, that was taking a serious risk, Isis. Water shipments to your area are usually sporadic because of her attacks on passing caravans and container trucks that go out there to re-supply families like yours living in the Golan Desert.”
“I know.” I answered–eating the last of the three remaining meatballs on my plate. There was still some leftover pasta to eat as well. But my stomach was starting to argue the point–with me–that it had all that it could handle for the time being.
I sighed and picked up the tray and gave it to Calis in return.
“Here. I can’t finish this.” I told him in sudden rejection.
Calis grabbed the tray from me and surveyed what was left. Laughing a bit at what he saw with his own two eyes, he set it down on the counter. Then he grabbed the warming cover off the bed spread in front of me, put it back on top of the plate, then turned around to face me again.
“I’m not that surprised. You always did have a hard time finishing what I fed you on occasion.” He told me up front.
I patted my bloated stomach in return. “Yeah, I know. But it was still good. I just don’t have the extra room to finish it all in one sitting.”
“That’s okay. You did good by yourself. I’ll put the rest in a vacuum sealed container and give it to for you for the trip home–share it with your brother if you want. I did notice there were still a couple of meatballs left in the pasta, so he might enjoy that.”
I giggled in response while leaning back and closing my eyes. “That dear brother mine is fat enough as it is, Calis. He certainly does not need
the extra calories.”
“The thought remains. Now…I need to get you prepared for your trip up to the space complex. If you’re feeling up to it, you can follow me out.”
I nodded tiredly. “What about the bed? It’s a bit of a mess since I slept on it.” I told him, sitting back up and showing him what I meant. The top covers were askew.
“I’ll fix it later.” My mentor and teacher said. Then he started to walk away. Stopping at the entrance way, he glanced back at me in question.
“You coming?”
I nodded.
“Sure.”
~9~
The overlying question of how I was going to get to the space complex was answered in the form of a holographic projection which sat next to me at the computer terminal near the center of the workshop itself.
On it was a recent snapshot of Weasel’s Ride Maze and Transit Terminal 323.
“Now there’s a place I haven’t been to in quite awhile.” I marveled openly with absolute fondness in my voice.
Calis returned with my pack and a small satchel and set both on the work station next to him.
“It hasn’t been that long, Isis.” The old man reminded me at that time–while working on something that had to do with the satchel itself. He managed to get the cover flap open before pulling out a small draw string bag and placed it on the tray in front of me.
“That’s for you.” He said without preamble.
Taking the bag in hand for a moment, I tested its weight. Heavy. My mind analyzed. What’s in it I wonder?
“And this would be…?” I ventured slowly, hearing something plastic clink lightly inside the bag.
“Your recent winnings. There’s more than enough credit chips in their for you in case you run into any serious problems while at Stratos City.”
This time, I did open the bag and did a rough count of what was in there.
“Calis…this is more than a month’s worth. I usually carry around just enough in case I’m in a real jam.” I told him, handing the bag back to him.
“Just not this much.”
“This isn’t a vacation, Isis.” Calis reminded me then–while refusing my offer. “The money is there for you because–believe it or not–you’re going to need every bit. Every last credit–if you plan on having any real success with your trip.”
The Starchild Page 7
