by Zach Hughes
"Pack as if you were going to spend a year in the house with all the doors and windows permanently locked. That means you won't need too much clothing. The ship's stores will have all of the toilet articles. She's state-of-the-art, a rich man's toy, so there's even a good selection of cosmetics and perfumes and a supply of one-piece disposable jumpsuits ina variety of colors."
"Like the women wear on X&A ships?"
"Yep."
"A bit too revealing for me."
"Comfortable, though." He grinned. "Actually, bring along whatever you want to bring. There's lots of room. Ship's laundry will handle washing and ironing."
"Some books? A few films?"
"You won't need any entertainment material unless it's something so esoteric it isn't found in the Library of the Confederation."
She nodded. "Yes. I forgot the capacity of the new computers. Yes, I suppose that will be enough."
He laughed. A person would have to live multiples of the average six-score life span to read and view the millions of volumes and films that were stored in the Fran Webster's entertainment banks.
"Tomorrow morning too soon?" he asked.
She paled, bit her lip. "I guess I can call my superintendent tonight."
"Take more time if you need it."
"Thank you," she said. "Perhaps another day?"
CHAPTER THREE
Commander Joshua Webster was out of uniform when the door chimes began to demand that he divert his attention away from the sleek, feminine curves of the lovely young lieutenant who was also in a total state of undress. His first thought was to ignore the musical clamor.
"Josh," the lieutenant complained, "I really can't concentrate with all that noise."
"They'll give up in a few seconds," Josh said, as he let his lips scale a luscious, small, darkly pointed mountain.
"Josh," she protested, pushing at him.
"All right, damn it," he said. He stood beside the bed for a moment, smiling down at her. He was a tautly built man, lean of waist, with the long, smooth muscles that spoke of good but not fanatic physical conditioning. "Don't go away."
She let her eyes fall to his narrow hips, his manhood. "Not a chance."
Josh slipped into a silk-smooth dressing gown, brushed his blond hair back with his fingers as he glanced into a mirror, and padded barefoot to the entrance.
"Oh, no," he said, as he looked into the matched faces of his twin siblings.
"I do like these loving, enthusiastic, familial greetings," David Webster said.
"I think that we may have come at a bad time," Ruth said, smiling ingenuously at Joshua. "Did we interrupt something, Brother Joshua?"
"You could say that," Josh admitted sheepishly.
"Well, we could come back later," David said.
"Fine, thanks, David," Josh said.
"But we won't." He pushed past Josh. He was the taller, and he was more powerfully built.
"Look," Josh said, "you know I'm pleased to see you, both of you, but—"
"We were hoping that you could put us up for the night," Ruth said.
"You do still have a guest room?"
"Yes." Josh ran his hand through his hair. The golden hue of it madeboth real and simulated blonde ladies envious. He looked more like the younger sister, Sheba, than like Ruth and David. There were those who, looking at the five biblically named Webster offspring and not knowing the strictly conventional morality of the parents, speculated as to whether Dan and Fran were at home on the same nights when Josh and Sheba were conceived.
Josh spread his hands. "You wouldn't like to go out and have a bite to eat? On me? There's a good restaurant just around the corner."
"Thank you, we ate at the Port," David said.
"You're doing this deliberately," Josh said.
Ruth raised her eyebrows. "Doing what, little brother? Are you trying to tell me that, heaven forbid, you have a—" She gasped in mock shock,
"—girl in your bedroom?"
"Not any more," the lieutenant said as she came out of the room and slammed the door behind her. Her sprucely simple Service blue skirt was just a bit awry, her blouse not quite tucked in properly.
"Angela—" Josh pleaded as he watched the lieutenant's stiff, straight back disappear toward the entry.
The lieutenant turned. Her smile showed that she was aptly named, for it was angelic. "Family matters first," she said. "Call me when you're free, Josh." She closed the door quietly behind her.
"Nice girl," Ruth said.
"Old Josh could always pick 'em," David said.
"I'm thinking of marrying this one," Josh said.
Ruth clutched at her heart. "Easy," she said. "I'm sensitive to shock."
Josh pouted for a moment, then beamed. "Well, hell, aside from the fact that you've ruined my evening, it's great to see you."
"I guess you'll have to sleep on the couch," Ruth said to David.
"Unless little brother wants to be a good host and give me his bed,"
David said.
"You're here about Dad and Mother," Josh said.
Ruth's face softened. "Any word?"
"None. I've been doing my best to change the schedule, but it's going to be at least another four months before a patrol vessel is in that sector."
He sat down, pulled his dressing gown tight around him. "There's really no need to worry, Ruth. You know the old man. He's thorough. He's a nut for detail. My guess is that once he found himself in an unexplored sector with a few million likely stars to check out he started with the nearest one and began methodically to work his way in toward the core. David can tell you how time consuming that can be. They're out there somewhere having the time of their lives, a second honeymoon. You know how we all used to be just a little jealous of their closeness. If ever a couple made a completion, just the two of them together, it's Dad and Mom. They've just sorta lost track of time, I'd guess. When they have to start eating space rations, they'll come out a lot faster than they went in."
"I want you to be right," David said.
"Yes," Ruth said, nodding.
"But?" Josh asked.
"I've got a new Zede Starliner that needs a shakedown cruise," David said, "and good company for the trip."
"You must be concerned, to leave your job and your precious kiddies,"
Josh said to Ruth.
She nodded again.
"We'll need the coordinates for the point where they left the extragalactic route," David said.
Josh nodded. "A Zede Starliner? C or D series?"
"E," David said.
Josh whistled. "Is what you do legal?"
"Why?" David asked. "Thinking of coming in with me?"
"Actually," Josh said, "the Service would suffer greatly if I left." But, he was thinking, even if he made admiral some day, even if he made fleet admiral, which was highly unlikely since the last three had been Far Seers from Old Earth, he'd never be able to afford an E series Starliner.
"I'm a little bit tired," Ruth said.
Josh showed her the guest room and the facilities. David poured himself a glass of Selbelese wine, the finest in the U.P. Josh came back into the room and sat down.
"Where did Dad take his orientation?" David asked.
"He took night courses at the academy in T-Town before he retired and then he spent three months in flight training."
"Three months."
"He's good," Josh said. "I checked him out when he and Mom came through here to get their permits. I wouldn't want to put him into a mock battle against young hotshots, but he's fully capable of taking that old Mule star-hopping out in the big empty."
David was feeling the warmth of the wine. The tension began to leave him. He liked his younger brother, enjoyed being with him. Josh's reassurances had the ring of truth.
"Wouldn't care to take leave and go with us?" David asked, after a comfortable silence.
"Dave, the promotion list comes up next month. I've been breaking my ass to make it." He spread his hands. "If I
felt there was some real danger to Mom and Dad, I'd go in a heartbeat, but I want to get back into space, and I want to go back out there as H.M.F.I.C. of my own ship. I want those captain's stripes."
"Well, I think this family needs one genuine Service M.F.," David said.
Josh laughed. "The Webster kids haven't done too badly, have they?"
"One Service captain-to-be on the way up, a famous holostar, adedicated education professional—"
"A businessman rich enough to own a Starliner and—"
David made a face. "One social lioness."
"Not bad," Josh grinned. "Not even the lioness. I know that Mom and Dad are proud. They told me so when they were here. Got right mushy about it. Mom acted as if she was leaving forever instead of—"
He paused, his face going pale. He had forgotten how sentimental his mother had been on that last night.
David asked, "Mother had a bad feeling about the trip?"
Josh told himself that he was being foolish. "You know Mom. She cries when Sarah and her kids leave to go home—all the way across town."
David laughed. He always told his mother goodbye in the house and hurried away lest she follow him out to the aircar and make his own eyes misty by her weeping.
"Show me that couch," he said. "We're scheduled for an early lift-off."
"I'll wake you at five."
"Not that early," David said.
"There's something I need to arrange before you leave," Josh said. "It might take some time."
True to his word, Josh was up before sunrise. A blast of music so accurately reproduced that one could almost reach out and touch the musicians brought Ruth out of a dreamless sleep instantly. David was not far behind. They had breakfast at Josh's favorite neighborhood restaurant and joined a stream of centrally directed air-car traffic in Josh's little runabout. At the huge X&A headquarters complex Josh left the aircar in the care of an attendant who would file it somewhere in a cavernous underground park with a few thousand other vehicles and escorted his brother and sister to his office. The lovely young lieutenant who had left Josh's apartment with her uniform in some disarray looked up from her desk and smiled brightly.
"Morning, sir," she said.
"Lieutenant," Josh said. "Meet my brother and sister, Ruth and David.
Kids, this is my executive assistant, Lieutenant Angela."
"A pleasure," David said.
"We've met," Ruth said with evident disapproval in her voice.
Angela's smile did not change. "Coffee for all?"
"Thank you," Josh said. "And see if you can get us in to see the admiral first thing."
"Yes, sir."
As Angela left the room, her uniform not at all in disarray, David looked at Ruth and raised an eyebrow. "Meow," he said.
"I do not believe in double standards," Ruth said.
"I'm going to marry this one," Josh said.
The coffee was Selbelese. It seemed that most things that were good to drink came from one of the Selbel planets. The admiral would see Commander Webster and his guests in twenty minutes. That left time to have a second cup and for Josh to run over the day's schedule with his assistant.
Flux cars, moving at daunting speeds along rails through narrow corridors, carried them to the admiral's office. David was surprised and pleased when he saw the lettering on the door: Admiral Julie Roberts.
Everyone knew of the woman who had followed Dean Richards as captain of the Rimfire.
Service discipline and an iron will had kept Julie Roberts slim and vital.
Age had touched her gently, with silver in her hair, and by accentuating the spacer's lines at the corners of her eyes.
"Admiral," David said, taking Julie's outstretched hand, "believe me when I say this is an unexpected but very real pleasure."
Julie's smile was genuine. "You're not exactly unknown around X&A, Mr. Webster."
David glanced quickly at Josh, who shrugged.
"We keep track of certain cargoes, Mr. Webster," Julie said. "Precious stones among them. In that field you stand out."
Julie turned to take Ruth's hand as Josh completed the introductions.
There was more coffee. Julie was more than willing to talk briefly about Rimfire's circumnavigation of the galaxy. Then she questioned Ruth about her profession, expressed the opinion that the work Ruth was doing was of vital importance, looked at her watch.
"Admiral, you've been more than hospitable," Josh said, taking the cue.
"We won't take up any more of your time, but there is one thing."
Julie was all Service again. "Yes, Commander?"
"David and Ruth are going to find my—our mother and father. Perhaps you recall that their ship has not been in contact—"
"Yes, I'm familiar with the case, Commander." Julie turned to David. "I envy you, going into deep space in a Starliner."
"I would like your authorization, Admiral," Josh said, "to have a Seeker installed on David's ship."
Julie touched her cheek with slim, well manicured fingers. "Yes, all right," she said.
Josh sighed, rose. "Thank you very much, Admiral."
"I shall remember meeting you with great pride," Ruth said.
"And I," said David.
"My pleasure," Julie answered.
In the flux car David took his eyes off the walls flashing past to look at Josh. "What was all that? What's a Seeker?"
"Ever look inside a ship's computer?"
"Yes, of course."
"See a little black box somewhere down at the heart of it?"
"The X&A bug," David said.
"A prejudiced term," Josh said.
"Yes, I know," David said.
"I don't," Ruth said.
"The bug," David said, "is required equipment for every vessel going into space. It monitors the computer, records every order, every move, every transaction, and, through the computer, keeps a record of generator operation, life-support systems, everything that goes on in a ship in space.
Some people don't like it, say that it invades privacy."
"But accidents do happen," Josh said. "When they do, there's a complete record of what preceded almost any incident short of a ship falling into a sun. The bug is also motivation to keep spacers on the straight and narrow. There are some strict laws governing space travel, laws that are easy to break when a ship is light-years from nowhere alone in space. So the bug keeps an eye out for infractions, such as changing computer logs, blinking inside a planet's gravity well, things like that.
Information recorded in the bug's uni-chamber can be and has been used as valid evidence in court. In short, it's a monitor of everything that goes on from the time a ship lifts off to the time it shuts down power to the computer, and when you shut down power to the computer you'd better be hard and safe on a pad."
"I've read about it," Ruth said.
"The bug does one other thing that isn't so well known," Josh said. "It sends out low frequency radio waves that can be detected by the gadget the admiral authorized for your ship, David. The Seeker. The transmitter is activated by any unusual event such as accident or loss of power."
"I can see that it would be useful, but quite limited. For example, if Dad's ship had lost power, say, six months ago, the signal would have traveled only half a light-year. We'd have to be damned close in order to be able to pick it up."
"True," Josh said. "It'll be up to you to get within range. If—and I don't accept the premise that something has happened to Dad's ship."
"If there hasn't been a problem, the bug doesn't transmit?" Ruth asked.
Josh nodded. "So you're probably going out there for nothing. You're going to have to guess at the route Dad took once he left the Rimfire's beacons. The odds are millions to one that he'll come back to the blink beacons by a different route and you'll miss him entirely."
"It's a case of no news is good news, then," Ruth said. "If we don't hear a signal from the bug on Old Folks, we can assume that they're out there joyriding, that t
hey're all right, happy as kids at dessert time."
In a matter of hours the Seeker was installed in the Fran Webster's communications bank. The influence of a certain Space Service commander, exerted through his executive assistant, got the Starliner lift-off clearance ahead of others who had been waiting longer. The Zede-built liner attracted a lot of attention as she rose slowly and smoothly on flux, went into her assigned orbit, and then disappeared as David punched in the first blink.
Xanthos, the administration planet, was located near the center of the volume of space occupied by the worlds that composed the United Planets Confederation. Although not nearly as congested as the zones inward toward the core, past the Dead Worlds, Xanthosian space offered no long blinks until a ship had traveled several parsecs toward the rim. Time became an element in space travel when the blink generator was depleted of power and had to rest while gathering energy from the nearest star.
During those charging periods Ruth familiarized herself with the Fran Webster and was duly impressed by the luxurious fittings. She swam in the small pool in the gym, although she had to rationalize the fact that she was swimming in the ship's main supply of water. It seemed rather odd to think of drinking one's bathwater, and, to one not accustomed to shipboard life, even odder to realize that the water in which she swam, the water she splashed into her face each morning, the water she drank, had been recycled only God knew how many times.
She spent considerable time with her library monitor in her cabin, sampling the ship's inexhaustible supply of books and films. By giving the monitor an order she could bring up every film in which her sister Shebahad appeared. She discovered that David had programmed the computer to isolate Sheba's parts, which was helpful in the early films where Sheba's appearances were mere bits. It was fun to watch her little sister as she developed her acting skills. Sheba had always been strikingly beautiful with her long blonde hair, her emerald eyes, her perfect little nose, but it was glaringly evident that she had not always been a good actress.
There were long, comfortable hours of talk between brother and sister, too. Good wine. Good food. Good music. First, they did the remember-when thing, reliving their childhood, laughing about tricks they had played on Josh or Sarah decades before. It had always been Ruth and David allied against Josh and Sarah, with Sheba standing aside in neutral territory, immune to the sibling rivalry because of her beauty and her gentle, loving nature. No one played tricks on Sheba. Everyone protected Sheba.
