The Silver Liner: Takes Flight!

by Daniel Sullivan

  “Ken, before we go to the platform, what am I to you? Am I a professional singer or am I supposed to pose as a girlfriend or something?”

  “Singer officially,” he replied. “Friendly and just close enough to make people wonder if anything is going on. We get back to the ship later, maybe we’ll get closer.”

  “Tell me again why I am going with you and not staying on the ship.” Fiona tried not to think about his intimation that they might get physical later, or that part of her hoped that things would.

  “’Cause I don’t know you, I don’t know why yer bein’ chased, so I’m keepin’ an eye on you. Leavin’ a stowaway who don’t wanna disembark alone aboard my ship ain’t gonna happen,” he admonished. “Also, they can scan the ship. The scanners here are a lot more powerful than the ones on the O.S.P. They detect anyone aboard, and they’ll know it’s you. Then they’ll come after you and probably make a mess o’ my ship in the process. I don’t want ’em tearin’ her apart lookin’ for you.” He visibly shuddered at the mere thought of his ship being ransacked by Alliance agents.

  “If you’re with me, you’re less likely to be noticed; I get a lotta moms an’ middle-aged women at my shows an’ they like to get as close to me as they can. You won’t stand out; just blend in and stay by my side.” He paused for a moment, and then added, “And since you’re a backup vocalist, you don’t pay the cover charge to get in. Seein’ as how yer broke an’ all, it works out.”

  “Rock star logic,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Too bad you aren’t a rock star.”

  He just smiled that crooked smile in response.

  They disembarked and walking in lunar gravity, she felt lighter and had to be careful of her step. As soon as they got to the platform, she saw the train coming, so she pulled herself together. Fiona shot him a look of displeasure as the train doors opened. Suddenly from inside the car, she heard several women shouting.

  “Ken!”

  As soon as Kendrick and Fiona stepped inside the car, the captain’s fans mobbed them. Kendrick was not kidding when he said he had fans. Suddenly, he was shaking hands, joking, posing for pictures and doing all the things that, well, rock stars did. She noticed that most of the women were in their late thirties to early fifties. He had male fans too and he shook their hands, talked shop with them and signed autographs. One of the men asked him to sing to his wife who was eagerly trying to get closer to Kendrick. She was a plump, matronly girl with thick glasses that made her eyes look huge as she stared at him.

  “Sure thing, man,” Kendrick said casually, causing the woman to jiggle with excitement.

  As soon as the words left his mouth, a hush fell over the car in anticipation of his singing. Oh brother, Fiona thought. He unslung his guitar and looked at the man’s wife with a ‘come hither’ look, the kind a celebrity might give to a teenage girl. Fiona figured he would sound bluesy or have a country twang, given his southern accent, but the voice that came out was anything but.

  “It’s now or never …,” he sang.

  The song had a more European sound; Italian, though the words were English. His powerful voice was rich and full, like the finest cantor she had ever heard in church. No, she thought, it’s better; much better! His precise playing was tasteful, just enough to enrich the song, but not so much as to make it busy. The girl was swooning as he sang, crying out occasionally, along with several other women in the car. One near her in particular squealed with delight. When he finally ended the song, his voice got low and soft.

  “It’s now or never…” With his voice hanging on the last syllable, he suddenly hit a crescendo with, “… my love won’t wait!”

  The car erupted with cheers and women screaming, and she soon realized that she was screaming herself. She blushed brightly at the realization, knowing that she had probably tipped her emotional hand to him.

  “Thank y’all,” he said in that ‘aw shucks’ drawl that he had.

  My goodness, she thought, no wonder they love him. That was not the voice of a troubadour or bar musician. His was a polished operatic voice, naturally gifted with years, possibly decades of training to hone it. And to think, he basically drives a space truck and sings in pubs and bars! He had such charisma and a complete command of the audience. Of course, if the gig was anything like this, Fiona had to admit that he was right; nobody would notice her.

  Kendrick motioned for everyone either to take a seat or to quiet down. Then, he put his arm around her, pulled her close, and started telling stories, occasionally singing brief little numbers to punctuate the narrative. By the time the train arrived at their destination, some people had gotten off and new people had gotten on, and word of his gig was definitely being spread.

  Once they arrived at the club, The Lunar Module, he got to work setting up. It was not much of a chore, given how little equipment he had; just an acoustic guitar, a cable and a microphone. He plugged the guitar and his microphone into the house PA and did a sound check. After he and the sound engineer made their adjustments, that was it until eight. Certainly, his voice was warmed up.

  The club itself was filled with space memorabilia from the pioneer days of space travel, including an actual lunar module behind the bar. The bar itself was built out around the antique spacecraft, and was a semi-circular affair. The stage mirrored the bar, but behind it was a giant photo of the lunar module on the barren surface of the moon. Fiona really liked it and wondered how, after several visits to Tranquility Base, she had missed it. Putting it from her mind, the doctor sat down with Kendrick and opened up a conversation.

  “Where did you learn to do that?”

  “Well, I grew up singin’ in the church choir,” he replied. Fiona brightened up when he said that; not many people grew up in church in these days. “Then I got into doin’ plays and singin’ in a rhythm and blues band. They did a lotta old rock n roll tunes; Elvis, Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, so they needed a guy who could sing it and look the part. Bein’ a Mississippi boy, I even had the accent. I made good money, so I bought me some voice lessons. Landed the lead role of the Phantom in that Broadway play and that pretty much cemented my rep. I got a recording contract, had a couple of number one hits and earned a fortune.”

  “Number one hits?” Suddenly it came to her. Fiona had not made the connection, but she remembered a rocker named Ken “The Voice” Royce. He had been very popular for about three years, but faded from the scene about fifteen years back. She did not listen to popular music, but she did remember his name.

  “Yeah.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “All tunes about space travel and alien chicks. Silly stuff, but the colonies were the big thing an’ they’d just built the O.S.P. Shallow tunes, but they were fun, an’ they made a lotta people happy.”

  Wow! I’m travelling with an aging rock star. Fiona noticed that he was now very talkative, a stark contrast to his cold shoulder treatment of her on the trip to Tranquility Base. Now that he had warmed up, she supposed he was in a more social mood. To her surprise and delight, he continued.

  “Everyone thought I should buy a mansion, but I don’t want no big house or fancy place to take care of; just ain’t me. I had all this money, but nothin’ to spend it on. My childhood karate instructor hit hard times, so I paid him to travel with me and train me. I made sure he was well compensated.” Then he leaned back, a wistful expression on his face. “Then I met this gal, she was just the sweetest thing I’d ever seen. Turned out she was some kind of programmer and engineer for some big Alliance contractor an’ she designed AIs an’ spaceships. Anyway, she had this big project to design a premium star-liner for deep space exploration and to rapidly move dignitaries and such from Earth to the colonies. The double duty was intended to make funding more enticing.”

  “Was that the Selene?”

  He nodded. “We had this dream that once she had done designing this ship and her company got the contract, we was gonna retire an’ just travel around in a space cruiser or something and see all the colonies. Seemed kinda s
illy, but that was our dream. I bought a plane and got me some flyin’ lessons. Got pretty darned good too. Even bought us a weekend in space bein’ weightless an’ all. It was a lot of fun.” He stopped speaking, looking as though he were reliving old memories in his mind.

  “So, what happened?” Fiona waited a few moments to ask, but now she was curious, hoping that he would not simply sidestep the question. He was good at that.

  “Well, she inspired me to go into the academy.”

  “The academy?”

  “Yeah; A.A.E.A. I was still young, so I figured it’d be a good thing to do. I could get top-flight training. Thought maybe, I’d get to test fly some of her designs.”

  The academy, Fiona marveled. The Aeronautic Astronautic Exploration Academy had been established when space travel became more regular, back in the late twenty-first century and they wanted non-military personnel for deep space exploration. Pilots tested to get in, and only the top one percent of applicants was even accepted. Once they graduated, they were the most highly trained pilots in existence outside of elite military. No wonder he’s so good.

  “I graduated an’ did okay. Had several jobs lined up. She an’ I were havin’ a great time just bein’ in love, but life had other plans. She started havin’ fainting spells and black outs. They couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her. Finally, they referred her to a neurologist, who diagnosed her with an inoperable brain tumor. I turned down all my jobs in order to stay with her. Had plenty of money from makin’ records.”

  Fiona’ heart sunk at the words. She felt her eyes tear up. It reminded her of one of those bittersweet romance novels, the kind that seemed to be heading for a happy ending, only to have the author throw in some tragic twist at the end.

  “We got married,” he continued, “’cause that was another one of her dreams. Big weddin’, white dress. She was goin’ through all sorts of treatments, an’ none of ’em worked. She weighed like eighty pounds on our wedding day. Gotta say, that honeymoon was the happiest week of my life, especially the wedding day and night. Anyway, she died a week after we got back.”

  “I am so, so sorry,” Fiona said softly, imagining the attractive woman from the picture having wasted away to a mere shadow. Fiona reached over and held his hand tightly, then pulled him close and hugged him. She did not say any more. What could she say? The pain was still evident in his eyes.

  “Well, I know that I’ll see her again one day,” he said wistfully. “She had very strong faith that she wasn’t dying; just movin’ to Heaven to get things ready for us when I get there.” Kendrick paused for a moment. She thought he might tear up and cry, but he did not. “Anyway, they built the ship an’ she flew like a dream, but the funding was cut. They was gonna scrap her, but her project head didn’t wanna see that happen. He worked out some closed-door deal, pulled some strings, an’ made it possible for me to buy the ship. They was havin’ budget trouble, so I’m sure that played into the deal.” He rolled his eyes, then continued. “I spent most of my money to get it, and had to have the mild cybernetics installed just to fly her.” He tapped the back of his head to indicate the port she had seen him use earlier.

  “After that, I had one more song chart, but no number ones. I did a couple of movies and a stint on Broadway, but my songs just wasn’t cuttin’ it no more. I finally packed it in, paid my bills and got into the transport business. I splurged one last time and bought my karate sensei a brand-new dojo.” Kendrick beamed with pride as he spoke of this.

  Fiona felt that it was very telling of Kendrick that he was more proud of having bought a man a house than he was of his own career and accomplishments.

  “I bought me a vintage Telecaster, a Fender Twin Reverb amp, an’ this vintage Gibson SJ200 guitar here, and that was my last music investment. I threw myself into my new business venture an’ never looked back. Still had a lotta cash from those movies an’ all, so it was a smooth transition. Still get royalties too, which helps.” He sat back, a wistful look in his eyes.

  Fiona remained silent, letting him tell the story. This was the most he had spoken at one time since they had met. He was quiet most of the time, but now that she had gotten him talking, he had a lot to tell.

  “This ship is all I got left of her,” he lamented. “The computer AI was even patterned after her. Kinda weird, but they actually got funding for the AI she had designed for the ship. Somewhere out there, they’re usin’ her personality to make computers o’ some kind more friendly.” He chuckled at the thought. “Anyway, she’s kinda like the baby we never had.”

  That explained the women’s clothing on hand. Lucky for her, Kendrick’s wife was about the same height and build before her illness. She must have been a beautiful person, Fiona thought. And to think that Kendrick and his wife were believers.

  “What was her name?”

  “Selene.”

  4

  Eight o’clock arrived and the club was packed. Kendrick played what Fiona assumed were his hits along with numerous standards and even some gospel music. The gospel was her favorite; not only was it praise to God, but she actually knew many of the gospel songs in his set list. Fiona surprised herself, harmonizing quite well with the captain and she picked up the songs more easily than she had thought she would. When singing at Ken’s side, her stage fright had diminished to mild unease. Somehow, his presence eased her phobia, something that only made her more attracted to him in spite of herself.

  The show ended by ten-thirty and Kendrick collected a nice fee along with a night of free food and drink. As soon as he packed up, they left for the train to return to the ship. He put his arm around her waist and walked her out, with the remaining patrons cheering him on as they left, assuming that Kendrick and she were romantically involved.

  Leaning in and kissing her cheek, he whispered, “Now to get back to the ship without any Alliance trouble.”

  Fiona simply nodded, her voice worn out from all of the screaming and singing. It surprised her how well sang with him, having been years since she had improvised harmonization. However, she was pleased with the result; they sounded nice together. The doctor found the younger man’s company to be easy, natural. It just felt right, like they were meant to be together, even though they had only just met. I must be crazy, she thought. Things like that only happen in the movies and in romance novels, not in real life … and not for women like me.

  When they sat down on the tram, Kendrick still had his arm around her waist. Doctor Kinsale snuggled up against him and rested her head on his shoulder, while he entertained questions from some of his fans who were on the train. They were not actually involved, but being held by a man was something she had not experienced in quite some time. Occasionally, he would give her a gentle squeeze as he spoke, something she found quite pleasant. Enjoy the moment, she thought. It will be precious to you one day. With that thought, she dozed off in his arms, worn out from their duet.

  Fiona gradually awoke, becoming aware of Kendrick gently stroking her hair. As sleep retreated, she realized that the train was coming to a stop. She looked around slowly, seeing a diminished number of fans still on the train with them and the car now at less than half capacity.

  “Hey, baby,” he said softly, smiling at her. “We’re at our stop.”

  Fiona nodded dazedly, moaning a ragged, “Uh huh.” Still groggy from her nap, she was thankful as he helped her to her feet. Once she was steady, she adjusted her glasses and stood on her own, absently saying, “Thanks, babe.”

  Kendrick slung his guitar over his shoulder and picked up his amp, waving to his fans.

  “Y’all take care now!” Then, he took her hand and led her onto the platform. Having disembarked from the train, they had only to make it back to the ship.

  Surprisingly, they did make it back to the ship without any incident whatsoever. Heather was just wrapping up the repairs and was about to go inside when they arrived, still holding hands. Noticing them, the mechanic deftly slid down the ladder from a good height and
greeted them.

  “Welcome back, Captain.” The girl’s soft-spoken voice was friendly and had a touch of a southern United States accent, though nothing so pronounced as the Captain’s. Heather wore gray coveralls covered in grease spots and fairly worn-looking. Goggles and a hat that looked like a train engineer’s from a storybook rounded out the ensemble. Her dark, brown hair was straight with bangs and went past her shoulders, framing a round face with dimples and a delicate chin. Heather’s high cheekbones made her brown eyes narrower on the bottom, giving the impression that she was smiling, even when she was not. She looked to be in her late teens or early twenties at most, far too young for a professional star ship tech. She wore boots, standing even with Fiona, who imagined that in flats, the mechanic would be slightly shorter.

  “Hey, Captain Royce,” she said cheerily, and then turned to Fiona. “And you must be the doctor.”

  “Yes, I’m Fiona Kinsale; nice to meet you.”

  “Heather, Heather Dalrymple,” the engineer said, introducing herself. “Now, who cooks?”

  Kendrick and Fiona looked at each other and laughed.

  “Lots of dry goods on board, fruits and veggies, and uh, Jameson, Jim Beam, Guinness and coffee,” said Kendrick. “I gotta delivery comin’ before we go, so we should be stocked up to survive for at least a year. Not gourmet, but edible. Quarters are comfy though.”

  The three of them boarded the ship and Kendrick showed Heather to her quarters, a cabin in the officer’s section.

  “Thanks, Captain,” the engineer said cheerfully, before disappearing into her room.