Reunion

by Greg Mutton

‘Seems we both have the same problem.’

  ‘What’s that?’ she asked.

  ‘No date,’ Aaron confessed. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear the end of your call. Mine came just as I reached the door.’

  ‘Ah well, I believe that things happen for a reason. Maybe we were destined to meet? Two sad cases… both stood up.’ Her eyes seemed to sparkle, almost challenging him as she spoke.

  ‘Well, the evening doesn’t have to be a complete bust. I don’t get here as often as I would like but, believe me, their carnivore plate is something else. Maybe we could have dinner together; no point in wasting a reservation.’ Aaron tried desperately to sound suave and casual, but inwardly he felt like a silly school boy trying desperately to impress some young girl.

  ‘Well, as I’m a real meat lover, I can’t refuse. Thank you; but I must admit it’s been a long time,’ she said.

  ‘A long time? I don’t understand.’

  She laughed — the sound at once being both lilting and subtly sexy. ‘Since I’ve been picked up in a bar.’

  Aaron shook his head, having absolutely no come back. Fortunately, the waiter came over to tell him his table was ready.

  The rest of the evening went much smoother as Aaron’s nervousness finally vanished. They talked about things he never talked about, small talk, mostly, and nothing in depth; as if they were sounding each other out. The meal, though, was another matter — the Flame Grill Carnivore Plate lived up to its reputation. Slow cooked ribs, pork and beef coupled with sixteen hour smoked Brisket, all old school and done to perfection. Thankfully neither had dressed formally. This was a meal that must be eaten by hand, and could be messy.

  Aaron recounted a story of when he brought some friends here and one of the women had, only that day, spent a huge amount on a new dress. Unfortunately for her, she couldn’t bring herself to wear one of the bibs the waiter offered and ended up with a large sauce stain down the front of the very expensive outfit. Petra had no such problem — she readily donned the protective offering and attacked the meal with gusto. By this time, the second bottle of wine was gone and a third was ordered. Aaron didn’t want the evening to finish — he couldn’t remember when he had enjoyed someone’s company as much.

  Petra solved this dilemma: she had an important meeting the next day and didn’t want to be at anything but her best for it. At a little after midnight, she asked if they could call it a night. Aaron reluctantly agreed, but asked for her details so he could call her next time he was in the city; Petra agreed and they synced their communicators. He watched as she left the restaurant, a feeling in his stomach that he hadn’t experienced before. At that moment he made himself a promise to call her the next day.

  His thoughts ended and he remembered where he was now: in his hotel room standing, naked, at the huge picture window gazing out over the city with breakfast diners on the roof opposite gazing back. He left the window and consulted the room service menu, called the concierge, placed his order and went to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and let the water reach the correct temperature while he relieved the pressure in his bladder.

  The shower was exactly what he needed, he groaned in perverse pleasure as the hot, needle-like spray danced off his body, awakening his senses and clearing his sluggish mind. He changed the shower setting and stood under the large, flood-type outlet in the centre of the cubicle. This was like being in a tropical downpour and it reminded him of earlier times when, as a boy, he and his brother, Jeff, had accompanied their grandfather on an annual pilgrimage to Northern Australia to fish, catch mud crabs, hunt and live very simply for two weeks. He also remembered the fight he had had with Jeff more than thirty years ago. A touch of sadness accompanied the memory of the argument that had descended into violence and resulted in Aaron leaving, swearing he would never set foot on Earth again. To this day he had kept his vow — in over thirty years he had never returned. But lately, different thoughts had begun to insinuate themselves into his mind, and he found himself reviewing that decision.

  He had kept himself informed on some things. Being so successful, the family company, Abracorp, was easy to track. He had also kept up to date with the adventures of his favourite nephew, Johnathon Thomas Abraham4th, now a Captain in the Earth Coalition of Planets Space Corps. There had even been some contact with his sister-in-law, Sonia, after she had finally tracked him down twenty years ago. Sonia always sent him invitations to family events, but he never attended. Now, his thoughts were heading in a different direction; maybe he should give family a second chance?

  The sound of the door-bell interrupted his thoughts — breakfast had arrived.

  Bacon and eggs accompanied by sautéed mushrooms and fresh toast, Aaron was surprised how hungry he was, considering the size of the meal the previous evening. He finished eating, cleaned his teeth and left for the foyer, with scant minutes to spare. He was being collected for a meeting with Allen Grainger, friend and business partner, but also the leader of Freebooters. His position, Freebooter Prime, was equivalent of President and held the responsibility of governing Argos. The elevator deposited him in the foyer and a young, official looking man approached him.

  ‘Captain Abraham?’ the official enquired.

  ‘Yes, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,’ Aaron replied.

  ‘No, you are right on time. I have a shuttle waiting; if you would follow me,’ he said, moving toward the elevators. ‘My name is James by the way.’

  ‘James… thanks,’ Aaron followed the official into the lift, it delivered them to the roof and they boarded the blue and silver shuttle.

  ‘We will be going to the residence for the meeting; about a ten minute flight.’ James took the pilot’s seat and began the lift-off procedure.

  Aaron sank down into one of the large plush leather seats and gazed vacantly out the window. He reflected on the last thirty odd years since he had come to Argos. After leaving Earth he had just floated around for a couple of years, taking temporary jobs as flight crew on any vessel he could. The last one had gone south in a huge way, the Captain of the vessel had tried to smuggle contraband but was caught. The vessel had been impounded and Aaron — with the rest of the crew — was left stranded on Varga, a small M tenng in the near future, highly improbable.

  As happened, fate had stepped in, in the form of Allen Grainger, Freebooter Trader. They had met in a small bar behind the space port, had a few drinks and soon realised they had mutual needs — Aaron needed a way off the planet, and Grainger needed a flight officer. A deal was struck and the next day Aaron joined his first Freebooter ship.

  Freebooter society is unlike any other branch of the Human race, being the only one where all people, regardless of race, religion or colour, lived in harmony, each respecting and accepting all others. The main reason — the total absence of politics. Unlike every other human colony, Freebooters had shunned all forms of politics and this had appealed to Aaron.

  For the next ten years he had worked with Grainger, first as a flight officer, then as a partner in, and Captain of, one of Grainger’s trade ships. Eventually, he had purchased his own ship and started his own trading operation. The friendship and business connection with Grainger remained and, to this day, they were still partners in a number of ventures. Things had changed, however, a few years previously, when Grainger was elected Prime; a post that carried a 50 year term of office.

  Captain Abraham, we are about to land. James’s voice emanated from the lounge speakers, breaking Aaron’s train of thought. James brought the shuttle down towards the landing field and with a great flourish, flared at the last moment to execute a perfect touchdown.

  ‘Nice landing,’ Aaron remarked as James came through the flight deck door.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ he replied, accepting the praise without further comment. ‘Follow me please’.

  Built into the hillside overlooking Freedom Park in Central City, the capital of Argos, the Prime’s residence boasted some of the best views of the city and the p
ark. The landing pad was on top of the underground hangar complex and, except for times when shuttles were operating, was hidden from the residence and offices. The complex was only accessed from the hangar via a subterranean walkway and transport pod, with security stations at both ends.

  Aaron and James exited the walkway through a security portal in the west wall, and continued down the tree-fringed path to the main building. There were ten buildings that made up the complex with the central one the private quarters—totally off limits except to those who the Prime personally invited. As they walked up the front steps to the wide veranda, two of the Prime’s security officers approached them and moved them through another security scan into the front reception vestibule.

  ‘Thank you gentlemen,’ one of the officers said. ‘Please wait in the next room.’

  The entry was through dark, wooden doors to a wide room with a marble mosaic floor. Tapestries hung from the very high walls and the ceiling was domed with an oculus in the centre, creating a spotlight effect on the centre of the floor enhancing the mosaics.

  ‘Please take a seat and I’ll announce you,’ James said and went through the next pair of doors.

  Aaron allowed his gaze to wander round the room. He had always admired fine art and the tapestries on display were some of the best he had ever seen. He was so engrossed with them he didn’t hear the doors behind him open.

  ‘Beautiful, aren’t they,’ the voice of Allen Grainger, Freebooter Prime echoed round the room. ‘That one you are looking at actually came on the Drake with Joseph Jones himself. It’s supposed to be from an ancient Scottish castle the Jones family had once owned—well, that’s the story anyway.’

  The voice dragged Aaron back to the present. ‘Sorry, Allen, I was totally engrossed in your tapestries.’

  ‘No need to apologise, it’s always gratifying to see someone appreciating them, unfortunately we don’t get many visitors to the house, so they aren’t appreciated like they should be. Come through here and we can relax and have a chat.’ They headed through a small door to the right of the main entrance and into a well-appointed office. ‘I thought this might be a good place, better than the hustle in the main office. Would you like some coffee? James makes an excellent brew.’ Without waiting for an answer he started to pour two mugs of the steaming coffee, before continuing. ‘How is the new Eldoran jump drive conversion coming? Is it ready for service yet?’

  Aaron had converted his newest ship, Condor, to the newly acquired technology, something only known to a select few, Grainger being one.

  ‘We have concluded trials of the drive, and are giving Condor a final inspection, so she should be ready later today.’ Aaron was puzzled; surely Grainger didn’t need a meeting to learn this? After all, he was an equal partner in the drive project.

  ‘And the maximum duration issue?’ Allen Grainger seemed to be angling towards something that Aaron could not quite get a handle on.

  ‘So far no problems; we have limited the maximum time we spend under drive conditions to forty minutes, with no side effects. I firmly believe we’ll be able to increase this as we progress the trial, but you know this already… I sent you a full report and specification three days ago.’

  ‘You’re right, I do know,’ the Prime admitted.

  Aaron studied Grainger’s face. His hair was greyer and his face had a few more wrinkles, but those eyes were still the same. Behind them was a mind that had taught Aaron so well and had enabled him to start his own trading company, to become one of the most successful Freebooters in existence.

  ‘I have a favour to ask!’ Grainger looked intently at Aaron and took a sip from his mug. ‘But before you say anything, hear me out; you may not want to grant it.’

  ‘Ask away.’ Aaron replied, with a quizzical frown, it was a rare occurrence for the Prime to ask a favour.

  ‘You are aware of the incident near Zyralin Four just over a year ago?’ Grainger asked.

  ‘Yes, my nephew was involved. There were some deaths and he faced a court martial which I believe exonerated him.’ Aaron was intrigued, and he gave Allen his full attention.

  ‘Yes, a huge loss of life, and your nephew was fully exonerated… in fact he is somewhat of a hero… even if Space Corps hasn’t admitted it yet. The rumour of a Krell attack was false. And, there have been, shall we say, developments?’ Grainger always loved a bit of drama. ‘What I need is for you to transport someone to Space Corps Headquarters on Earth. This person has vital information and has already been targeted with one attempt on his life. Problem is, we don’t know for sure who made the attempt. It could even be his own people, so this may not be a simple job… And, there may be complications.’

  Aaron gave the Prime a long, hard look of concern.

  ‘Sounds like we’re getting involved in politics,’ Aaron said, his voice showing his concern. ‘If so, it goes against everything we stand for. We have always been neutral and kept out of any political issues; it’s even enshrined in our constitution. Hell, we deal with all sides of any conflict equally! So why the change?’

  ‘I have wrestled with this issue for the last three days, and I know every argument for, and against,’ Grainger replied. ‘When Joseph Jones and his group settled our world and drew up the constitution one main theme was the lack of politics—the very reason they left Earth and the new coalition was the politics.’

  ‘The petty clawing for power and the intrigue, all led to a total lack of progress and massive restrictions on the freedom of individuals. Jones was determined that Freebooters would always be free of these machinations; but even he could foresee the day when we may need to take sides. You’ve read his books, you know his ideas, his vision; I think that the day may have come, the day where we need to take a stand may be at hand.’

  Grainger sank into his chair. ‘I don’t ask this lightly, Aaron. The risks to you are grave and if you agree, this must be totally off the books. The less you know the better, for you and your crew. All I ask is that you meet him… and then we can talk further.’

  Aaron thought for a few moments. He had known this man for over a third of his life and he had never seen him do anything against the society he now presided over. ‘OK, I’ll meet with him,’ Aaron’s said.

  Grainger activated the intercom, ‘James, will you please bring our guest in,’ Grainger asked.

  The door opened and James ushered in the mystery guest. Aaron rose and turned toward the door and stopped suddenly; his jaw dropped as he saw the guest.

  ‘Admiral Dokad?’ His voice was almost a whisper.

  Aaron hadn’t seen the man standing before him for a number of years. Admiral Kratc Dokad, Senior Commander of the Krell Imperial Navy; a man Aaron held in very high regard.

  After Freebooters had brokered the peace between the Empire and the Coalition that ended the most destructive war in human history, they were granted an exchange program with the Empire. Every year for centuries now, five Freebooter flight officers were chosen to be trained at the Krell Space Academy; Aaron was one of the lucky ones. He had spent three years studying, and achieving, his Captain qualification. It was also where he had met, the then Captain Dokad. The two had become firm friends and Aaron had been billeted with Dokad’s family for part of his stay.

  After he left the Krell home world, they had kept in touch, often meeting in far flung places of the galaxy. As Aaron’s business and Dokad’s career had flourished however, this contact became less and less.

  Aaron looked at his old mentor and noted the sling on his left arm, the Nano skin across half of his face and the left eye-patch he wore. ‘What happened?’ he asked concern etched in his voice.

  ‘Someone took a shot at me,’ the reply was accompanied by a slight chuckle. ‘Knocked me down, it did. But when he came to finish me off, Golac got to him, almost took a leg off. Sadly Golac was killed and the assassin fled.’

  The sadness in his voice was strong. Golac was a Jardoc, a creature similar to a very large canine and Dokad’s constant co
mpanion. Aaron remembered the animal and the history of their association with Krell warriors.

  Throughout all Krell’s recorded history, the Jardoc had been companion animals and were often mentioned in ancient literature. They were long-lived and loyal to the end; usually if the master died so too did the Jardoc. Saving the life of their master was something also mentioned in the texts.

  Aaron could see this had been a terrible blow for Dokad. ‘I’m sorry, Admiral.’

  Dokad straightened and looked at Aaron. ‘If he had not defended me, I would surely be dead. He did me, and many others, a great service; but he will be missed.’ True to Krell form the old Admiral quickly shrugged off his grief. ‘But now to business,’ he announced. ‘Allen has explained my request?’

  ‘Yes he has. But you’re a fleet admiral — why not just use one of your own ships? Why all this cloak and dagger stuff?’ Aaron asked.

  Dokad explained, ‘In reality, my rank is now more honorary; I have very little connection with the navy. For the last five years I have been acting as ambassador to the Coalition and, as this attack on me was probably an internal operation, using a navy ship could be suicidal.’

  He paused for a few seconds, ‘You two are the only ones I can trust; so my fate is in your hands. This information could have far reaching effects on both human and Krell futures.… All I ask is that you consider it.’

  ‘When do you need to be there?’ Aaron questioned.

  ‘Next Tuesday—Earth time—at the latest,’ the admiral replied.

  Aaron thought for a few moments, and then smiled as he remembered something. ‘There is a family celebration this weekend on Earth. My sister in law has been trying to get me back there for a number of years and always sends me invitations to any family events. It might be time for me to go to one and, as you are well known to my brother, perhaps I should bring a friend?’

  ‘Are you wanting to end the feud with your brother?’ Dokad asked.

  ‘Feuds must end sometime and I suppose this is as good a time as any.’ Aaron shrugged.