by Jim Rudnick
The stove chimed at him. It was time for the final baste as he checked his PDA and saw Nancy would be out of aural therapy in just a few minutes and arrive at his apartment soon after. He opened the oven door and basted his roast crown of pork. He was careful to ensure the center stuffed area was well covered with those cooking fats too. The stuffing was a combination of apricots and figs. He'd stolen a taste or two, and he loved how it complimented the pork taste.
Table done. Roast on final approach. His steamer of complimentary rice was coming up to boil, and the fresh sourdough bread he'd gotten earlier in the day was ready to be sliced and served too.
He had also been able to get, at no small cost, two bottles of superb Quaran Chardonnays. Both were chilling right now and he was set.
He sat for a moment at the table and didn't want to think about it, but the call earlier in the day to his brother came to mind.
He'd not lied to him, and his plaint for help financially was as honest as he could have made it.
He told Taylor he was a gambler who was more than 70,000 dollars in credits behind with the Caliphate Casino, but he was getting help even though he hadn't as yet gone to anyone about that. He also told his brother he had a girl—really that he was going to ask her to marry him and could Taylor help a bit with just enough credits so he could buy a ring and cook her a hell of a meal.
Taylor had been reticent at first, but then blood took over, and he congratulated his little brother and reminded him that he'd have to come clean with his fiancée before he asked her to marry him. That was the fair thing to do. It had been good advice, Nathan thought, and he'd both listened and followed. With the credits sent by Ansible service, he'd also shopped this morning down in Neres City. He had been able to find a wonderful engagement ring—a Faraway azure diamond of almost a whole carat on a band of Eon gold, which was in the small box in his pocket, and he toyed with the corner of the box through his khakis.
Taylor had also been very firm as he ended his conversation—Nathan was on his own for the repayment of the debt. He and his new wife would have to worry about it, as Taylor would not help a bit.
"Love Taylor," he said to himself again, and he'd already decided to follow through on his honor with all of the various items on his list.
Nancy breezed into his quarters a few minutes later, and she was excited, as her latest aural scores from rehab had been excellent.
"So good," she said, "that I'm going to be a superb Ansible navy officer. I can hear items that many others can't in the testing, and the docs are looking into that too. I'm so, so happy," she said and she leaned down to hug him as he slowly rose from his chair.
Guess this is the time, he thought and slowly turned to place her in the chair.
Walking to the counter over on the left, he opened up the small fridge and grinned at her. He twisted the cap off the Chardonnay, poured her a glass, walked it back to her, and put it on the table at her side.
She was about to say something when he shook his head and held up his forefinger in front of her lips to tell her not to say anything.
She looked at him somewhat oddly but nodded and instead picked up the wine and had a sip. A short glance over at the lit-up oven told her dinner was in the oven. She saw a pot on the stove that was simmering too. She looked back at him with nothing but love in her green eyes.
As he dragged up the other chair from the table to sit right in front of her, his face was solemn and she noticed too.
There was no other way, so he just told her.
He was a gambler. He won—but more than that, he lost. He'd been on a bad streak—in fact, as he tried to be honest, his streak was now years old.
He owed the Caliphate Casino more than 70,000 dollars in credits. He missed payments too at times. And as yet, he had no repayment plan.
But he loved her, he said, and noticed as her face changed as he confessed. She was incredulous at first, then sad, then resigned, and finally as he had worried, she looked mad at him.
He saw that and said he knew weeks ago that he had to come clean. He knew if he wanted to make his life with her—he had to. And that's what this was all about.
For a reason he never would understand, it was at this point—before she made a single comment—he pushed his chair back and knelt in front of her. Nancy's eyes changed from what he thought had been anger to worry, but he was already pulling the box from his pants pocket.
"I know this is a lot. But I wanted to do this—to ask you to marry me tonight too. I wanted you to know that no matter what happens—whether we end up together or not, that I love you, now and forever. And I have laid my whole unvarnished life at your feet. Will you marry me, my Nancy?" he said and he held his breath as he opened up the box and that blue, blue diamond sparkled under the bright kitchen lighting.
She looked at him and her eyes never left his.
She looked worried, but there was something else there too.
She stared at him for a moment, as though lost in thought, and then the corners of her mouth slowly curled upward and a smile, hesitant at first, dawned on her face.
She nodded. She said only a single word. “Yes.”
She threw her arms around him and hugged him.
He sobbed and hugged her back, the box crumpled on her back, and a moment later they were fumbling it back open to have him slide the diamond onto her finger. It fit—it was a bit big and they'd need to get it sized, but nevertheless, she had said yes.
And then she lit into him. She yelled and screamed about being honest from the very start. She barked at him and asked how he could have gotten so damn far in the hole with the casino. She shouted loudly about what kind of repayment plan they'd both have to come up with, and how they'd eat macaroni and cheese for a year, but they'd both work on repaying the debt. And no more debt to come. Ever. She looked at him and waited—and he nodded emphatically.
She finally stopped venting on him, and then the ring caught her eye and the tears started again.
He beamed. He felt as if he was on top of the world, and they both had tears in their eyes. They hugged, smiled, and cried while the pot on the stove simmered away.
####
The Provost security guard checked his tablet one more time and shook his head again.
"Not here, Sergeant—there is no one by that name that I'm gonna allow on the Hospital Ship cause the name is not here. It's that simple, Sergeant," the guard said at the intake access point up on the top landing port deck. The Caliphate ship had come in on time with its small group of four new patients, and yet there were five of them. One was extra and that was obvious. This extra patient was dressed in warm outer clothing, seated in a wheelchair, and every once in a while, he leaned forward to cough into his sleeve.
Doesn't look too healthy, the guard thought, as he looked at the sergeant once again.
The Caliphate Ramat sergeant nodded and said once more, even more slowly and succinctly, "As I said for the third time now, guard—the extra one has no early admittance papers—he's a special case for quarantine level four—and the electronic paperwork just hasn't caught up with him. I have real paperwork though as I said." Once again, he tried to hand the Provost guard a sheaf of papers.
The Provost guard once again refused to accept the hard copy paperwork, and he tapped on his tablet to call for a security guard supervisor to come and handle the problem. Until then, he simply leaned back and stared at the Ramat sergeant and the Caliphate citizen. The sergeant was big, at least six feet six inches tall, and a full three hundred pounds of rough and ready soldier. No doubt that this man could hold his own—totally different from the patient transfer who at the same height and half the weight looked like he needed help. If he needed quarantine, then the guard hoped the kitchen would at least get to feed him something big and often. Too thin, the guard thought, as he felt a sudden touch on his left shoulder and turned to see his Provost Captain, who had raised an eyebrow.
"Having some issues, Corporal?" the captain said an
d he reached for the tablet.
The Ramat sergeant thrust the sheaf of papers on top of the tablet and said, "Not really, Captain O'Malley—just that the files are behind, but the original paperwork is right here. Sir," he said and waited while the captain leafed through the pages of paperwork and then nodded.
He nodded once more. "Right, Corporal, I'll sign off on this—this guy needs quarantine over on the Caliphate module and promptly. While I take care of the admit and okay the verifications, you walk the sergeant and his patient over to the module. Dismissed," he said and one could only slightly hear his frustration with the workings of the ship.
The corporal nodded and took the lead as the Ramat sergeant took the handles of the wheelchair to push the patient toward their destination.
The captain made some more entries on the corporal's tablet and then stopped suddenly and called out, "Wait, Sergeant?"
The sergeant stopped.
"I was at the VacJump Games a few years back—weren't you the favorite say what, three years ago or so?" he said to the patient.
Jocko just nodded and then coughed into his sleeve once again, the cough barky and wet sounding.
He grinned at the patient. "You cost me almost a hundred credits, damn you!" he said and remembered losing his bet on this Caliphate entry. He wondered whatever happened to the guy who did win and he waved them off.
An hour later, Dr. Kahil Bassem closed down his console after the EYES ONLY with his Caliph and reached for a now warm soda in front of him.
The addition of Jocko to his available tactics to gain the vaccine was only a worst-case scenario, he believed.
If he could turn the gambler from a research associate into a debt-free man for a simple sample of the vaccine, that was his big play.
But, in case that didn't work, his Caliph had sent him a fall-back player too ... Jocko could help perhaps, and the fact he'd failed the last time he'd vacjumped might help instill in him a winning motivation.
####
"Lemme see your boarding pass, Mam" the boarding agent said as she made the front of the passenger line. She nodded and twisted her tablet so he could see same, tapped his console and the information was passed to his screen. He looked down, read and then nodded and pointed off to his left to a walkway down an downward slanting hallway. This Seenra sleeper ship was huge and at two lights a day it was the quickest way outwards. It ranged from well within the galaxy outwards to the RIM Confederacy and was the most expensive of the various sleeper ships she'd been on as she moved outwards.
"Sleepers down to deck four, Mam. This is going to be a long trip for you" he said and he winked at her.
She nodded at his attempt at levity and then hauling her small carry-on bag with her, she went over to the hallway and slowly walked down a long long way. Once she stepped over the threshold of the ship itself, she was waved on by a distant crewman and she like a few others before her, slowly made their way to the tanks stacked up ahead.
More paperwork from her tablet had to be shown and then she got in line to see the doctor. Quick set of vitals were taken and it was noted on her file that she had slight elevations of blood pressure and her heart-rate was high too . . .but that the doctor said was to be expected. Anyone facing a long cryo-sleep would be amped up, he said and that got a small smile from her.
"Gia Scott, right?" the crew woman said as she led the way down the row of tanks to the one that was to be hers and she nodded to her.
"This one is yours for the next few years" she said as they got to the tank. She took the bag first and held it to one side as Gia stripped naked and stood in front of her tank. She crammed her shift into the top of the bag and as she did the crew woman caught her breath.
Scars. There were scars all across the sleepers back and down across her upper legs too.
Someone had hurt this young woman big time, but there was nothing she could say.
Gia did the bag back up and handed it to the crew woman and faced her squarely. A couple of inches shorter than six feet in height; strong muscles in the arms and her thighs were as big as a professional dancers. There were ridges of callus along both of the outside edges of her feet and her posture was balanced and light on those feet. She nodded to the crew woman who then tucked her bag into the space down at the bottom of the tank, pressed a button or two on the front and the cover slid up in the air. She was about to give instructions to the sleeper but instead she was stopped by a hand shake.
"Just got off the AN Monarch—we were asleep for more than five years on that one—and I started this trip more than a thousand lights inwards. So yeah, I know the drill . . ." she said and she placed both feet into the cuffs, her elbows set back and engaged the tank AI and the crew woman nodded. It was all she could do at this point as she punched one more set of buttons and the top slid down to seal the sleeper in her tank.
From inside the elbow cuffs, needles were slowly inserted into veins; slowly the interior was filled with the special mixture of gas and the sleeper closed her eyes.
Three years to Juno. Three more years is all it would take. Three years on this final sleeper ship to the RIM . . .
CHAPTER SEVEN
Maddie was on the other side of his door when Tanner opened it after hearing a firm knocking. It was supposed to be his free time, where he could walk most of the areas of the ship as leisure time. But he'd simply been sitting at his small desk within his room up on E Deck and playing solitaire on his console, wishing he had access to more than simple games when the knock had come.
She smiled at him and then handed him an envelope, turned on her heel, and walked away down the ward hallway.
He looked down at the envelope, and as his door slid closed, he walked back to the desk and had a seat.
Wonder what this is, he thought—and suddenly he had the thought that before all of this time up on the Hospital Ship, he'd have had to have a Scotch to accompany this kind of an event. Guess those days are done ... He shrugged.
He still wore his patient scrub blue outfit. His feet today were in his sandals, and he wore socks too.
"So much for style," he said to himself as he ripped off the end of the envelope, blew in it to pop it open, and then reached in for the small note inside.
A simple note to him from the Baroness whose seal was up at the top to let him know she would like him to meet with Captain Eleanor Vennamo of the Gibraltar today. In fact, in less than an hour, it appeared, and he looked down at his socks in his sandals and sighed.
"Gotta look better," he said to himself, as this must be important news if Vennamo was delivering it. He went over to his dresser to see what else he could find to wear, and the pickings were certainly slim. As he put on a new real shirt and pair of khakis, he decided bare feet in sandals gave a better image than with socks in sandals, and in a few minutes, he was ready.
Popping down the escalator ramp by ramp, he soon was down on the main deck and eying the Juice Bar. He didn't have time for that, and he jumped on the moving walkway, rode halfway around the ship, and popped off when he got to the Visitors area. He nodded to the Provost guard at the doorway, walked in, and got only a few feet inside when a "Captain?" stopped him, and he turned back to the guard.
"Sir, you're to not be in the general room at all—there has been a change for you, so please go directly across the room and present yourself at the door numbered forty-two, Sir," he said looking up from his tablet.
That surprised Tanner a bit, as those rooms along the far side were normally offices not meeting rooms, but in any event, he walked over to the proper room and knocked. A moment later, an EliteGuard opened the door, stared at him, and then opened the door fully to let him in.
Walking by, he noted the Gibraltar captain was already present and sitting over on a couch in the seating area of the office.
She nodded to him and then simply said, "Leave us" to the EliteGuard who nodded back and left them alone and closed the door behind him.
Probably standing picket duty just on
the other side, Tanner thought, and he sat in the love seat in front of the captain and nodded.
Silence for a moment, which grew a bit more awkward as the seconds counted off in his brain. But he knew not to say anything, as he was the guest here.
She finally looked away for a moment and then back at him.
"Captain, this is most unusual for me—acting like a messenger for the Baroness. But that's what needs to be done, and as long as you are 'here,' then I suppose someone like me sits in for her. Royals ..." she added and the frustration was palpable.
He nodded and then smiled. "Captain, my apologies for putting you in this kind of a situation. But you have some news, yes?" he said and then leaned back.
She nodded and then pressed some buttons on the PDA on her wrist. Above her arm, a hologram appeared of the Baroness. Someone had chosen a magenta monotone for the coloration, and that almost made him smile but he didn't do that. News. Important news was a second or two away.
The hologram smiled at no one in particular and said slowly and competently, "Hello, Captain Scott. I bring some interesting news, and I wanted to give it to you personally—well, via hologram actually, but still directly to you. This will also be news for Captain Vennamo as well—so it's good for you two to be here together.
"I have news about our finding of those 'ancient relics' that you found over on Ghayth. We have scoured about half the planet from stem to stern, and we have been able to harvest more than four thousand of those matching plates. And while, yes, that is good news, it's the finding of a, well, what we're calling a warehouse hidden under the polar icecap, which is the real news. There we found more of same—almost twenty thousand more matched units—but we also found more of the purple bio gel too. Frozen, but it thaws out very easily, and the thing is, it appears to be almost a thousand times stronger than the gel that we found in the Ghayth trees. So powerful that a simple smear of same on the top plate worked perfectly too. And the cache of gel that we found is huge too—more than at this point we can measure."
