CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The next morning there was a general call of officers and crew chiefs. At the meeting, I announced my decision to stay on Cresperia to Captain Becker and his officers, Gordon beside me. Jeri and Kyle were there, too. They all nodded, pleased, then JFK stepped forward from his place beside Doc Honeywell.
"I'll be staying, too,” he noted. “We figured you might need some medical support, and frankly, I find it an interesting challenge."
"One of the nurses has volunteered, as well,” Honeywell added. “You'll have a small, but effective, sickbay although I doubt it will be used much with Crispies around."
"Sounds good, anyway,” I decided. “Who's in charge of the place?"
"Before we discuss that, we should probably fill the two of you in on what happened during your sleep shift,” Becker noted with a grim face, and my heart sank.
"That doesn't sound good,” Gordon said with some trepidation.
"It's not,” Jeri said, and the anger in her voice was evident. “The Snappers got impatient. They attacked one of our cities."
Gordon and I both gasped. “Which one?” he asked anxiously.
"Xxtrflm,” Jeri responded. “Evidently they have sensors that can detect underground population centers."
"How bad?” Gordon groaned, and I remembered something he'd said about friends there.
"Not bad,” Kyle grinned wolfishly. “Jeri's friends listened to her and convinced the elders it was better to be safe than sorry. So they constructed some force screens, similar to what your starships use, around the main cities. And it wasn't the big ship that attacked, it was another of the smaller scouts."
"So Xxtrflm wasn't harmed?” Gordon asked, face lightening.
"Not a bit,” Jeri smiled. “The Snappers, on the other hand..."
"Let's just say that a force screen wasn't the only thing they adapted,” Prescott said in satisfaction. “Those disintegrator beams of yours scale up really nicely even if they don't have much range."
I decorously refrained from punching a fist into the air.
"Gordon, our friends have agreed that the Galactic needs force shielding and at least one disintegrator cannon, too,” Jeri noted. “They're constructing them right now."
"So, in answer to your question, Mai,” Becker resumed, “there will be three colony leaders. A triumvirate, of sorts. Major Bennett, the ranking marine who's volunteered, will head up the military. Gordon will lead the Crispies, human or indigenous. And you will head up the civilian Earth humans."
"Shit,” popped out of my mouth before I thought. I hadn't expected that. “Er, sorry, sir."
This time a grin did appear on Becker's face, and damn but it looked good. His face didn't show any signs of breaking, after all. In fact, he was downright handsome with that smile. “You've performed in an exemplary fashion. Both as a scientist and a warrior. I think you're up to it, and so is Gordon."
"Thank you, sir,” Gordon said, and I'll be damned if he didn't execute a perfect salute.
Grin broadening, Becker returned it with respect.
* * * *
It took two more weeks to properly outfit the Galactic and get all the necessary supplies for the colony offloaded to planet. During that time, the Snapper ship faded from our scanners completely, and we had hopes the Crispies had driven them off. Certainly the unmanned freighters now plied their lanes unmolested.
And Gordon and I only grew closer. It wasn't long before I realized that Gordon and I were developing what Jeri and Kyle had, and we were both happy and content in that. I didn't know if Crispies had anything like a marriage ceremony, and strongly suspected they didn't, but that was okay. We knew who and what we were to each other. After the first week, we moved planetside to the colony, only needing one housing unit.
"Everything's almost ready, Cherry,” Gordon told me enthusiastically as the date for the Galactic's departure drew near. “We have enough prepackaged food to last until we can ... gene-gineer ... enough food that Crispies and humans can both eat, and we've got defensive and offensive weapons ready. And so does the Galactic."
"I know,” I agreed. “But I still have a feeling ... it may be a long time before we see our friends from the Galactic, Gordon."
"Yes,” he said, sobering. “But we'll manage, Cherry. We have each other."
"We do, Gordon,” I said, kissing his cheek. “We do."
* * * *
We had a ceremony the evening before they left orbit. The big amphitheater where Kyle had beaten the Indian “god” had been totally gutted and refitted to eliminate all reminders of the fight, and now the auditorium on board ship was visible on a big viewscreen there. Captain Becker declared the Cresperian faction that favored interstellar exploration to be allies of Great Britain and the United States of America of Earth, Sol system. The Crispy elders, while declining to become involved in anything except minimal defense, at least agreed to stay neutral. Gordon thinks they will come around eventually. It just takes a long time for the older ones to do things. They did thank us for the enlightenment of intelligent interspecies contact and cooperation, and acknowledged gain on both sides. That was more than he and Jeri expected so I have great hopes.
Then it was time for the goodbyes. That was hard. None of us knew when, or even if, we'd be seeing each other again. There were a few tears shed, and I'm not ashamed to admit I was one of ‘em doing the shedding.
But not because I wanted to go back to Earth, only because I'd miss my friends. I had what I truly needed. And all of that was in one package standing right beside me. And his name—the one I could readily pronounce, anyway—was Gordon Stuart.
When the com link finally ended, we all went outside and looked up, watching as the bright star in the night sky began to move. Gradually it shrank and dimmed. We knew as soon as the Galactic had gone into unreality drive, because the star just disappeared. A collective sigh went through the colonists, and our faces turned back to Cresperia.
Gordon caught my arm in a gentle grasp, and drew me along as he moved through the crowd. “Cherry, come here. There's someone important I want you to meet."
I followed him through the crowd until we reached a group of three indigenous Cresperians, bright green fur and all. I wondered if these were Crispies interested in becoming human.
"Cherry,” Gordon announced proudly, “these are my parents. You can call them George, Emily, and Casey. Mmrd, Ddrd, and Iird, this is my Earth mate, Mai Li Trung."
Three sets of bifurcated eyes lit up, and three slits of mouths formed into something that I'd come to recognize as Crispy approval. I smiled back, warmth filling me as I met my husband's parents for the first time. “Hi,” I said happily. “I'm pleased to meet you. You have a wonderful son..."
"Please excuses the Englishes, we is learning,” the Crispy called George said. “But we is pleased is meeting you, too. Is ... brave...?” He glanced at Gordon, who nodded affirmation of the word choice. “Is brave hyuman, is you. Is we proud havink you in famiry."
I couldn't help myself. I opened my arms and did my best to envelop them in a group hug. Having more arms than I did, they were a lot better at it, of course. “I'm proud to be in the family, too,” I told them.
It wasn't like having Earth in-laws, of course. I learned that many Crispies together form perceptive groups to nurture their young since they have so few of them. But what the hell. Maybe his parents would eventually convert to human. Then we really would be a family.
End
[Back to Table of Contents]
Darrell Bain
Darrell is the author of more than three dozen books, in many genres, running the gamut from humor to mystery and science fiction to humorous non-fiction. For the last several years he has concentrated on humor and science fiction, both short fiction and suspense/thrillers.
Darrell served thirteen years in the military as a medic and his two years in Vietnam formed the basis for his first published novel, Medics Wild. Darrell has been writing off and on a
ll his life but really got serious about it only after the advent of computers. He purchased his first one in 1989 and has been writing furiously ever since.
While Darrell was working as a lab manager at a hospital in Texas, he met his wife Betty. He trapped her under a mistletoe sprig and they were married a year later. Darrell and Betty owned and operated a Christmas tree farm in East Texas for many years. It became the subject and backdrop for some of his humorous stories and books.
Visit Darrell's web site: www.darrellbain.com
Stephanie Osborn
Stephanie Osborn is a former payload flight controller, a veteran of over twenty years of working in the civilian space program, as well as various military space defense programs. She has worked on numerous Space Shuttle flights and the International Space Station, and counts the training of astronauts on her resumé. Of those astronauts she trained, one was Kalpana Chawla, a member of the crew lost in the Columbia disaster.
She holds graduate and undergraduate degrees in four sciences: Astronomy, Physics, Chemistry, and Mathematics, and she is “fluent” in several more, including Geology and Anatomy. She obtained her various degrees from Austin Peay State University in Clarksville, TN and Vanderbilt University in Nashville, TN.
Stephanie is currently retired from space work. She now happily “passes it forward,” tutoring math and science to students in the Huntsville area, elementary through college, while writing science fiction mysteries based on her knowledge, experience, and travels.
Stephanie's web site: www.stephanie-osborn.com
* * *
Visit twilighttimesbooks.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.
Darrell Bain Page 29
