FRENCHY II : Having a Blast

by George Olney

  Back to what Grae was explaining. She remembered telling Dallas people seemed to grow up a little slower out here, but it was an off the cuff remark based experience with a couple of tribal girls, Justa being one of them. She hadn't made the connection to Nos. Apparently, the same situation applied to him. Nos was younger, at an age where growth and development were visible over the course of a relatively few years, and she was looking at him the way her life on Earth led her to think about kids. To her, he was nine or ten, but his real age was two or three years older than that. Back home, those two or three years made a very big difference.

  Frenchy recalled the pictures she'd found when doing computer research on Nos's parents. They were both rather short and slim, given how they looked against some of the other people in what were obviously society event shots.

  Nos was going to be bigger than them. With good food and the constant physical activity that was part of tribal life, he was starting to build muscle. Oh, he'd never be Grae's size, but he wasn't going to be small and wimpy either.

  There was another aspect to Nos, too. Grae mentioned that he was thinking like a twelve year old and dealing with the same hormone surge people got when they reached puberty. Brother! Now there was another problem - and one she was hoping not to face for a couple of years yet. Apparently the longevity treatment didn't slow everything down. Wonderful. Now she was going to have to deal with a kid that was going to discover girls very soon, if he hadn't already. In fact, that was what Grae said. Nos had discovered girls! Again, wonderful.

  Well, those girls had better treat her little boy right or she was going to come all over Mommy on them.

  The thought made her laugh. Seeing Grae's quizzical expression, she grinned at him. " 's okay, big guy. I was just thinking of an ex-stripper trying to be a good mother. I want to raise that kid right."

  Grae gave her a fond smile in return. "You'll do well, girl. You might think of things in terms of being an ex-stripper, but I don't think of you like that. To me, you're a damn fine woman. I don't worry about you doing the right thing."

  Frenchy got smoothly up from her chair, went over to Grae, and planted a big, long kiss on his lips. He was a pretty fine guy, too.

  When she broke off, he gave her that look she liked, the one that made her tingle. Then he picked her up and carried her back to the bedroom. Yep. Pretty fine guy.

  The next morning, the door announced that two people requested entry. The security monitor showed Dallas and Jongular outside, so Frenchy, who'd been worried about her friend, hurriedly gave permission for entrance. After going out for breakfast, both she and Grae had gotten comfortable in the suite again. Neither one was wearing anything because there was nothing formal to do until later that day. Even after a year's exposure to Galactic and tribal attitudes about nudity, she still was a little nervous about skinning down in public, but regarded being bare as comfortable. No reason to dress to let the pair into the suite.

  Besides, Dallas was her best friend and Jongular was... well, Jongular. Also besides, he'd seen her nude when she danced. Also besides again, she and Dallas were very experienced around each other in a state of partial or full undress. No problem either way.

  Frenchy yelled for Grae then went to welcome Dallas with a hug. "How'd the contract negotiations go, babe?" she asked.

  Dallas grinned. "Those characters didn't know what hit them. An ironclad seventy five percent to us on music and we define the terms on what else they can take a cut on. There were a few minor problems, but I solved them. After they signed, I grabbed the contract and we took off to celebrate before they woke up."

  "Dallas is formidable as well as beautiful and a great dancer," Jongular spoke up with a slightly wide eyed look.

  Frenchy gave him a piercing study. Besides his wide eyes, the guy looked a little tired and a bit bemused. Slightly stunned, in fact. Glancing at her friend's smug expression, it wasn't hard to figure out how they'd celebrated.

  "So no more bondage taking?" Grae asked in his best dry tones.

  Jongular shot Frenchy a glance that was still a bit nervous. "Uh, no. No. I like your customs better."

  "Damn right he does," Dallas said smugly. "Especially when he found out about the benefits."

  Frenchy grinned. It looked like Dallas had caught herself the big barbarian she was hunting.

  Chapter 9

  After several more days at the Arm office, consisting of meetings, plans, assignments, etc., Frenchy and Grae returned to the Hold, leaving Dallas and Jongular to record their first commercial entertainment chip. Jongular and his group provided the music and Dallas was the dancer, something she enjoyed. Jongular certainly enjoyed having her dance for him.

  However, Frenchy no sooner dumped her traveling bag on the bed when another situation popped up. Said situation, presaged by a vid-tex call from Grete, concerned her ward. "My daughter, we have some things we needs must discuss concerning young Nos," was how Grete began, after at least telling her hello and welcome back. " 'Tis nothing of a troublesome nature, but his schoolmaster has raised questions to me I feel unqualified to answer. Should you agree, I feel all of us - you, me, and Grae - must meet with the man and discuss this matter. 'Tis important, but nothing of a negative matter, so be reassured on that point. The schoolmaster awaits such discussion even now in your mother's apartment, as I summoned him as soon as I was given intelligence of your arrival. We shall arrive at your location momentarily should you agree."

  Frenchy was conflicted. She wanted to know what was up with Nos, but at the same time, being stuck squarely in the path of one of Grete's headlong campaigns was something like standing in front of an avalanche. "Uh... yeah, Mother, but-"

  Grete didn't let her get any farther. "Wonderful! Once again, you've shown that both you and I have wisdom to accompany our beauty. I and the headmaster shall arrive anon."

  Grete hung up and there was only one thing Frenchy could do. "Grae..."

  Frenchy had met Pit, the school headmaster, several times but it still tickled her to see that a Tribal school principal looked like... a tribesman. Big guy, leather pants, boots with knife sheath, vest over bare muscular chest, full head of brown hair pulled back in a ponytail like Grae, matched with a big mustache like Weykhaz's, made the picture. Not even the slightly uneasy air of a school principal meeting parents. No educrat here. More like a pro wrestler. After a short assessment, she decided Pit was a pretty good guy, all in all.

  Once the four of them were seated in the apartment's living room, Pit came right to the point. "From our experience with Nos over the last week or so, there are good and bad things we have to discuss. The bad is simple. Nos needs a lot more survival training than he's getting before he comes up to his age group. Because he wasn't born to us, he's about at preschool level. His classmates already know that, but nobody's teasing him about it."

  Pit grinned. "Apparently he's a lot better in a fight and has demonstrated his ability at some point in the recent past."

  Hearing Pit talk about Nos's ability to fight someone, Frenchy's brow grew thunderous and she shot a glare at Grae. The glare bounced off.

  Utterly unconcerned with Frenchy's "motherly worries", Grae commented, "I've been training him. The boy soaks up that kind of thing like a sponge. I could work with him on his survival training like I did Frenchy, but we both have an important project that's going to be taking up most of our time in the near future."

  Grete began, "Weykhaz..."

  Grae interrupted, "Would be fine, mother, but I think Pit has a different plan." He looked at the schoolmaster. "Don't you?"

  Pit nodded. "I'd like to do more than home school him. I'd like to send him to the survival school the Craggy Rock people run. It's a good course and open to all age groups. Nos is still a little undertrained for it, but he's intelligent and motivated. He'll get individual instruction and exposure to literally every challenge Lycanth has to offer. Expert sword and pistol training, too. Much more in depth training than we are giving him."

>   Frenchy's mother instincts kicked in and the thought of Nos in survival training at his age got her a little upset. Then her practical side took over and she shook off the feeling. As long as the boy was behind the curve in survival skills, he was in danger every moment he was out of the Hold. She knew all about the dangers of Lycanth, and knew she couldn't protect him from everything. "How long is the course? And just how did the Tribes develop that kind of thing, anyhow?"

  Pit answered her. "Two months. The Craggy Rock Tribe began running it for youngsters just like Nos. There's always a few, for whatever reason, that aren't quite up to snuff even with family or Tribe training. Most of them are a few years older than Nos, but he won't feel out of place."

  Grae looked at Frenchy. "Nos needs it. I know that school. It's hard, but he'll love it."

  Frenchy thought for a moment. "He'll have a ball."

  Then she turned to Pit. "Okay, so that's the bad. What about the good?"

  Pit smiled. "A lot of good and only a little bad actually. We gave him some aptitude tests. Besides the fact that Nos is highly intelligent and a good learner, we got a surprise. Our education is primarily technical, because that's the Yellow Knife's main focus. He'd make a good electronics engineer but he just about went off the chart in business aptitude. I don't know where you found this boy, but he's a business genius. Leaving him with us would be a huge waste of his potential."

  Given Nos's family, Frenchy thought, that figured. She also realized that Nos, still a boy or not, was the heir to a huge business empire. He needed to be prepared for that future if that was what he wanted. Looking at some other aspects of the situation she'd been told, he might not have a choice, either.

  Frenchy was a free spirit and didn't like the idea of molding the boy, her boy, into a career he might not want, but he did have the aptitude and she hated to see it wasted. There was no telling how far he could rise if he applied himself the way Pit said he could. Sure, right now the boy was living a kid's dream and didn't want to lose it, but he had to be prepared for the adult world, too. That was her responsibility as a mother.

  Then something struck her. "Nos is still over at Grete's right now. We're talking about a big decision in his life. Let's get him in here. He needs to know what's happening."

  Grete, true to the fact that she thought like Frenchy, had come to the same decision. She was already up and headed for the door. "Bide here," she said over her shoulder. "The lad and I will return anon."

  It wasn't long before Grete returned, Nos in tow. It wasn't much of a surprise that Weykhaz was also with them. Grete, in Grandmom mode, wanted Grandpop there as well. Grandpop's expression said he was pretty well planning to just sit down, shut up and let Grandmom and the younger generation work things out.

  Nos's face betrayed his feelings when he discovered his headmaster sitting with the folks acting as his new parents. His glum expression advertised his thought that Something Bad was coming.

  For her part, Frenchy was in charge of the meeting by unspoken consent. She was trying to figure out how to approach the subject of business school to a boy that wanted nothing more than to wear leather clothes, ride a gort, and maybe get to bash a monster or two eventually. She finally decided to approach the topic indirectly. "Nos, honey, did you know what your father did?"

  Nos shrugged. "No, just that he was in business. I was always at school or somebody that worked for Dad was taking care of me. The only time I spent much time with Mama and Dad was when we went somewhere, like on their ship. I guess I never really knew what he and Mama did."

  He took on the pained faraway look that told her he was thinking about his parents again and fiercely trying to control himself.

  That rocked Frenchy back in her chair. She'd had a rough life growing up, but this boy was growing up alone, no matter how much money he had, and that was just as bad. A glance at the other adults told her everyone else was just as upset about that little declaration as she was. Tribal families were warm and close. In a Hold, children were always cared for, no matter who was available to do it. What Nos's few sentences described was nothing that could - or would be allowed to - happen here. No wonder Nos had adopted them so readily. This was the first time in his life he'd had people treat him as just a plain boy!

  She thought fast. Sending him off to school, something they thought of as being for his benefit, was something he'd take as being returned to the old arm's-length treatment he'd lived with all his short life. Time to remedy that. "Come here, son." She held out her arms.

  Nos flew into them without a trace of reluctance and started to weep as his self-control evaporated. Just that one question about his father had reopened a recently closed wound about the death of his parents. He needed reassurance. Badly.

  Two strong arms pulled the both of them to their feet as Grae enveloped the pair in a hug of just plain human closeness. Frenchy looked up into Grae's eye with silent thanks then looked down into Nos's tear streaked face and said softly, "You have another family now, Nos, and we're taking care of you from here on in. You're our son. Don't forget it."

  Nos sobbed a little louder and clung tightly to Frenchy, happy and reassured that the two people who now mattered most to him were hugging him.

  The three of them stayed like that until Nos settled down, then Frenchy resumed her chair, but this time she shared it with Nos. She looked down at him again. "Grae and I are your father and mother now, Nos. I don't give a damn what anybody else thinks, it's permanent as far as Grae and I are concerned. But we have to talk about some things in this room, some things that are very important to your life. I just want you to remember that this is your home."

  Nos wasn't slow on the uptake. "That sounds like you're going to send me away."

  "Only for a couple of months this time," Grae said, "and I think you'll enjoy it. You need to go to survival school as soon as we can get you into it. That means learning to live on Lycanth. You'll be doing a lot of gort riding, camping, and living out in the Barrens. You need more than just an occasional trip to help you learn how to live on Lycanth, and we don't have that kind of school here."

  Nos, one arm around Frenchy and her arm around him, looked over at Grae. "Did you do that?"

  Grae solemnly nodded. "Yes." He didn't mention that his survival school was a military one for special operations soldiers - or that he was one of the instructors from time to time. "Everyone has to learn. Even me. I think you'll do well and enjoy it."

  Nos's smile slowly emerged, then developed into a grin. "That sounds like fun."

  Grae grinned back. "Most of the time, it is. It's a challenge, but you'll be up to it. You're enough of a man to handle it."

  Grae had phrased things just right. Nos nodded enthusiastically. "Okay," he said, "I'll do it."

  He looked up at Frenchy. "But I come back here?" he asked with worry in his voice.

  She smiled at him. "You certainly will, honey. Grae and I have jobs and we won't always be around, but Grandmom and Grandpop will be."

  Nos considered that for a moment, then made a decision. "Great!"

  He hugged her again. "Mama," he said softly.

  Frenchy hugged him tightly yet again, thrilled at the word. No tears, she told herself, she still had the Big One to discuss.

  Pit made it easier for her. "Nos, I already know you're a good student. What was your favorite subject at the school you attended?"

  Nos looked a little puzzled, since nothing so far was going according to the script he feared. "The Academy? Business law or economics. I got an A in both of them."

  Pit looked a little surprised. "Would that be the Toshman Academy on Hacken?"

  When Nos nodded, Pit sat back in his chair and slowly surveyed the other four adults. "The Toshman Academy is the premiere business school in the Federation."

  Even Frenchy was impressed. The place sounded like Harvard Business School to her. Her little boy was right up there at the top. Helluva thing for a stripper's kid! She immediately decided that he needed to co
ntinue his business education, but it wasn't going to be in some place half a galaxy away from her!

  Pit looked a little glum. "He's wasting his time with us."

  Grae shook his head decisively. "No he isn't. It won't hurt him in the least to learn a little about microelectronics and robotics."

  Grae turned to Frenchy. "Speaking from experience, we also have some very good schools. Some of the best. We just don't advertise it."

  Frenchy nodded, but she reminded herself that the boy in her arms needed to learn how to run that business empire he was one day going to inherit. "I have no problem with that, but he needs a good education in business, too."

  Nos looked up at her with a little shocked apprehension. "Why do I need that? I like what I'm doing right now!"

  Frenchy's Mommy persona took over. "I'm sure you do, young man. Survival school will be good for you, but you are one of these days going to run some of the biggest corporations in the Federation. I think you need to learn how to do it."

  Once again, Nos recognized a superior force. Still, honor had to be served. "But I can always do something else! I don't care about big corporations!"

  "Business is important, Nos," Frenchy sad firmly. "Dallas is starting one of her own and she was already a very good business woman on Earth."

  That surprised Nos. Dallas was the Beautiful And Sexy Aunt. Beautiful And Sexy Aunts didn't run businesses.

  "More to the point," Frenchy continued firmly, "millions of people depend on your father's corporations. One day, you're going to inherit them. You owe it to them to be as good as you can be when you take over.

  "Besides," she continued as an impish thought returned, "think about all of those corporate types in their offices. Think about how they'll react when you show up in leathers and they discover you're the boss."

  Nos thought about it. The idea was appealing and he admitted to himself he liked what he was studying at the Academy, but he didn't want to give up this great new life he'd found. "But I don't want to go back to Hacken! I like it here."