Chapter 17
**
I crack my knuckles nervously, and one of the instructors looks up from his holoscreen. "d’Ingolfsson, what have I told you about that habit of yours? Three demerits."
"Yes, Overlord." I duck my head, and curse, silently, as I try to cram more astronavigation theory into my already-tired head. Two more demerits, and I’ll be stuck here the entire Midwinter break, working them off in the exercise rooms. That definitely doesn’t sound fun, I think. The problems seem to flow into each other as the hours-long class progresses, and when the instructors finally stand, I heave a sigh of relief.
The other students, mostly servus but with me and three kawtuh mixed among them, react similarly. I give the mental command to shut the holoscreen down that hovers in front of me, and stuff my hastily-scribbled notes into my leather satchel. Uhmis Gwen gave this to me, I remember; she gave a matching one to Alexandra. I wonder how she’s doing, I think; Alexandra’s in a staff and command college not two blocks from here in Archona.
"Got time for dinner, d’Ingolfsson?" The pure-white kawtuh purrs next to my ear, and I startle, much to Geerowl’s enjoyment. "Jumpy little human, aren’t ya?"
"Geerowl, I’ve told you before, no fair sneaking up on me. That’s no way to treat a friend. Who got the gum out of your whiskers? Who helped you redo your room three minutes before inspection, after it was totally trashed by the Seniors? Who helped you memorize the transducer schematics…"
"Okay, okay, Patrick… sorry. You’ve helped me out a lot, and I appreciate it. Now are you coming for dinner or not?" Geerowl grins, displaying rows of sharp, white teeth and a red, lolling tongue. "Steak and lobster tonight, since we’ve passed our midterms."
"Hey, that sounds pretty damn good. Okay, count me in. Save me a place at the table; I’m going to go change clothes first. I’m still all sweaty from the gymnastics this afternoon." I stand up, and run a hand through my short, short hair. It feels funny, still; I remember the awful shock of seeing myself with a shaved head after Inductions. I looked like Frankenstein, really gorpy, I think, but now maybe, just maybe, I look a little better. Wonder what Alexa looks like? She had to have the same haircut, she said, the last time I talked with her. Bet she looked hot, even with no hair. Damn, I’m horny for her.
"Yeah, you need to wash. Although I certainly don’t mind the way you smell, most of the time. Especially in the last couple of seconds…" Geerowl purrs, her ears perking hopefully. These kawtuh are hornier than Draka, if that’s possible, I think to myself, and smile demurely back.
"Why, whatever do you mean?" I give Geerowl’s hand a squeeze, and whisper, "Raincheck, okay?"
"Okay," she whispers back. She picks up her notepad and waves her tail saucily at me as she walks out of the room. I’m alone, now; the other students have stampeded toward the dining room, the instructors have disappeared to wherever they lurk, and it’s just me. I sit back down, enjoying the silence, the privacy. There’s not much of that here, either one. The windows are open, and the summery smell of crepe myrtle wafts inside; I can hear the little kids of the UnderSchool playing in the green, grassy park across the avenue from our school. Looking out, I watch a huge hot air balloon drift over the rooftops of Archona, and the white-washed houses seem to glow in the orange of the setting sun.
It hasn’t been too bad, old boy, I think. It was awful lonesome there at first, with Alexandra at the other school and all the restrictions we had about using our transducers to call each other. They meant business about that, I remember, wincing. The one time we tried to sneak past the security setup, they caught us, and both of us had to do calisthenics until we dropped. I dropped a hell of a lot sooner than Alexandra did, but even she got worn out after about a day or so. At least they didn’t call her mom on us. That would’ve been really grody. As nice as Uhmis Gwen seems to be, I’d hate to be on her bad side.
I miss having Mama around, and even mean ole Alice. I never thought I’d say I missed her, but I do. I miss Tom and Andri, and Yannan and Rosta. I even miss May and Ariadne, which is astounding. They had just reached that stage of peskiness that makes a body want to strangle them, I think. But they’re good kids. I’m actually looking forward to seeing them again. And that girl in the kitchen, Betty Lou, man… I miss her, too, in the most obvious of ways…
Lost in my revery, I don’t hear Instructor Coriolis come in. She sits down in the desk next to mine, and I jump almost out of my skin. Instantly, I leap to attention, standing stiff with eyes to the ground, hands to the side, thumbs along the seam of my trousers. Feet at a forty-five degree angle…
"Relax, Cadet d’Ingolfsson, relax… I’m off duty, so you don’t have to brace so severely. Sit down."
I sit, still maintaining my stiff posture, and keep my eyes on the floor in front of me. "Yes, Overlord Instructor?"
"I just saw you in here, lost in your thoughts, and wondered what they were. You’re usually quite the chow-hound. You and the three kawtuh tend to knock everyone else in your class out of the way when it comes to food, younglin’…" she chuckles. Her gold thumb-ring, massive with the shape of a mailed fist on it, glints in the dying sunlight.
"I…uh… well, um…" I don’t know what to say. Is that an indirect criticism, I wonder? My group dynamics scores have always been high, in the top ten percent, and my leadership scores have been in the top two percent… is there something I’m missing? "Ma’am?"
"Oh, it’s not a criticism. I was that way way back hundreds of years ago, when I was your age. Yes," she says to my surprised look, "I actually was an adolescent, long ago. I remember. What were you thinking about? Plans for fun back home?"
Well, of course she’s scented you, you big gorilla, I say to myself, silently. I blush, and nod, too embarassed to say anything. She laughs again, her voice husky-strong in the large study room. I look up out of the corners of my eyes at her, and watch her amused face for a moment. I grin, then, and try to relax a little. Her hair’s white-blonde, and cut short; it reminds me of someone, but I can’t… oh, yeah, that holovid Alexandra has, that her mother made for her; it’s got Yolande Ingolfsson in it, and that’s who Instructor Coriolis reminds me of. That’s it…
"Ah… it’s actually worked out well. You know?"
"Um, Overlord Instructor, please forgive this lowly cadet’s ignorance…"
She chuckles again, and then ruffles my short hair. "I’m talking about the experiment we ran, having you and the kawtuh attend these cadet training classes. It’s worked out quite well. I thought we should tell you in person, too. We’ve already sent our recommendations to your Muhmis, and to her mother. I think next year, when you return from Midwinter break, you’ll find lots more humans and kawtuh attending these classes as Juniors."
"Really? I mean… oh, thank you, Overlord Instructor. It’s been an honor," I manage, thinking, yeah, it’s been so hard I thought a few times I’d like to jump out a window and run naked through the streets, too… "Thanks."
"You’ve earned it. The other Instructors and I, well… we have a little present for you, in your quarters. You might want to stop there before going to dinner. Which, I hear, is very good tonight, so you may not want to miss much more of it." Instructor Coriolis stands, tall and beautiful and deadly. I stand, too, assuming the position of attention again. She moves to stand in front of me, and I hear her clear her throat.
"Never thought I’d do this with an archaic, of all things, but… look up at me, cadet."
I look up into her darkly tanned face, above the high black collar of her walking blacks. The draka glint, ruby red, on her collar tabs, and I feel nervous inside. "Overlord Instructor?"
Her hand reaches out and clasps mine, on the forearm, in a steel-tight grasp. "This is a little early, but congratulations on passing from Junior to Senior. I’ll look forward to having you in my classes next term, d’Ingolfsson, but you better study those patterns I tried to pound into your head. I’ll be less merciful in the dojo next session…"
"Yes, Overlord Instructor, I will. Thank you, really, thanks…" I blush again, knowing the honor she’s showing me, and how rare it is. It’s been a long, hard few months, but it’s definitely worth it. I wonder what’s in my quarters??
"Go on, now… enjoy tonight, and don’t have too much of a hangover tomorrow, for your transit back to Earth/2. Oh, and give this to your Muhmis, with instructions to give it to her mother, would you?" She hands me a tiny data disk, no larger than my thumbnail, and I immediately put it in my diskholder, attached to my uniform belt.
"Your will, Overlord Instructor Coriolis," I reply, adding her name in a fit of daring. Normally, that would call for three or four hours of calisthenics, but she just smiles, and releases my other arm. I stand back at attention as she turns and leaves the room, as cat-silent leaving as she was entering. Once I’m sure she’s down the hall a bit, I race out of the study room towards my quarters, mind going a mile a minute…
**
I look around the compartment, checking for any last stray items… Rosta’s missed one of Alois’ toys, a tiny giraffe, and I pick it up, dropping it into my leather shoulder bag. "All ready, Muhmis?"
"Yes…" Gwendolyn says, coming out of the other part of the large room, twisting her long red hair into a club for travelling. A gold pendant at the end finishes the job, and she smiles at me. "Are you?"
"Yes, Muhmis, just checking last minute things. Rosta, Andri and Alois are already aboard the shuttle, and we’re waiting on you." I grin at her. "As usual."
Gwen chuckles. She walks over to a table and begins sifting through some hand-written notes, packing them deftly into her briefcase. A few Draka have openly boggled at the ‘ancient’ device, but Gwen says it helps her organize things, and she likes it. Good enough reasons for me, I think, joining her at the table.
"I’ll be so glad to get home, Gwen…"
"You and me both. Glad this stage of the negotiations is over, actually. Now we can get down to brass tacks next time. Smythe’s no fool, even if one of his so-called assistants is." Her voice rasps into a growl at the mention of the Samothracian idiot who tried to stomp me into the hydroponics deck a few days ago, and I shudder briefly.
Muhmis pats my back companionably, and goes back to quickly sorting and storing her papers, discarding some into a growing pile. "Want me to put these in the recycler, Muhmis?"
"Yes, honey. Here, these too. Thanks." Gwen checks by the bunk, and comes back with a small, bound notebook, which she lays down next to the briefcase. The door chimes softly; Gwen says, "Come."
A uniformed, very nervous Space Force second lieutenant snaps to attention, his fist to his shoulder, and waits to be spoken to. "Yes?" Muhmis goes on, slipping into her thin black leather boots, and cocking her head curiously at him.
"Overloard the Archon, greetings. I, uh, the commander of the dome wishes to send you her best regards, and, um, a token of her esteem." He beckons minutely, but frantically, with one hand, and someone brings forth a bouquet of roses. "She, uh, the commander of the dome, um, hopes your stay has been a positive one, and that, ah, all your needs have been, mmh, met."
"Relax, Lieutenant, before you pass out. That’s an order," Gwen smiles, accepting the roses and nodding at the equally nervous rating standing behind the officer. "You, too. Tell your commander I said thank you, and that I was extremely pleased for the most part. Security could have been a bit tighter, in regards to the regrettable little incident we had, but that’s in the past, and I believe the problem’s been, ah, corrected. True?"
"Oh, yes, ma’am… it’s been corrected permanently." His face pales, though, remembering the solution to the lax security personnel, and I swallow, remembering the incident, as well as the ‘correction’. Having airlocks on domes makes for handy executions, but messy ones. God…
I look down to the table, and notice that the bound book has fallen open as Gwen laid it down. In it, on one page, is a sketch, done in ink, of a scene, and I look more closely at it, thankful for the distraction from memory as well as just being plain old curious. Must be a plan for another of Gwen’s paintings, I think, and pick up the book, looking at the finely-detailed drawing closely. I hear Gwen thank the young officer and his assistant again, and close the hatch after they bow deeply and leave.
There’s a small child, clad in tattered, filthy rags, standing along a street. It, since I can’t tell gender from the sketch, is holding a ragged, torn teddy bear by one arm, and stands looking up at a group of heavily-armed Draka soldiers with huge, frightened eyes. The town around the child has been reduced to smoking rubble, and a ghouloon squats nearby, gnawing on something. I don’t look too closely to see what. Bodies are scattered about, human ones, men and women both, and some children, too. A matte-black, smoothly metaled vehicle stands in the roadway, behind the Draka, and the sun seems to glint from its body in a dull haze.
I note with a small start of surprise that one of the Draka, one that’s kneeling on one knee, near the child, bears a striking resemblance to Gwen. I feel her hand on my shoulder, and the scent of the roses fills my nose, as she moves to stand next to me, looking down at the sketch with a smile on her face. "Is this you, Gwen, the one kneeling?"
"Yes. I was offering that little waif a chocolate bar."
"When was this?"
"It’s a bit of a long story. Killsweep, one of the later ones. Near what you’d call Pittsburg. I’ll tell you about it on the way home. Sound like a plan?"
"Yes, sure…" I grin up at her, and look down again at the disturbing picture. "Drawn from memory, of course?"
"Mm-hmm." Muhmis plucks the book from my unresisting fingers, drops it into her briefcase, and then jokingly semi-bows, offering me the roses. "Madam? You do enjoy these, don’t you?"
"Of course I do, Madam mine," I answer with a blush. "You knew that from those first ones you sent me, back many moons ago on Andros!"
"Ah, yes… you were such a sweet pony to seduce. Better, though, now…" She hands me the flowers and then kisses me, firmly, her hands stroking, cupping, caressing. "Ahh… yes. Much better."
"Gwen…" Another kiss stops me for a moment. "Muhmis…"
"I’m Planetary Archon. They can wait for a moment, or two, or three…"
"But your son won’t wait. He’s hungry," I whisper, kissing her back delicately. She glances down at my bust, grinning, and then gives me a gentle slap on the fanny.
"Of course he is; he’s a Draka!" Gwen says, laughing out loud, and her voice thrills me as it always has. I jump a little at her hand’s impact on my behind, and squeak, but she kisses me one more time, and, moving to be next to my left ear, she whispers, "Thanks, Erin, for your help. You are invaluable. As well as a truly lovely pony to mount."
"You’re welcome, Muhmis…" I blush to the tips of my toes, and she enjoys every bit of it. "Now can we please go to the shuttle, so I can feed your hungry little Draka son?"
"Yes, of course. Bring the flowers, too. They’re lovely, really, and it was a nice gesture on the part of the dome commander. Considering that she just assumed the title, after her predecessor and his security chief were, ah, corrected." Gwen’s grin is wide, but there’s a flash of steel-hard resolve in her voice. It reminds me of how different my nonhuman Muhmis is from me, and somehow I feel a sense of loss, of paths never to be chosen, when I glance up at her.
I pick up the bouquet of ruby-red roses and my shoulder bag, the head of the giraffe poking rakishly out of the top. "I’m ready if you are, Muhmis mine…"
"Let’s go then, before I change my mind and decide to make my son wait for a bit…" Gwen says, giving me a hungry look of her own. The trip back should be interesting, I think, and follow my Muhmis out the hatch, down the corridors, to the waiting shuttle. Very interesting, indeed. Have to get her focused on telling the story behind the drawing, so I can have some time to rest up before the festivities she’s got on her mind begin…
**
"Alexandra?!"
She turns from my bookcase, a smile lighting up her face. "Who were you expecting?"
"But, I, uh…mmmpphh!"
When she finally releases me from the kiss, and I get my breath back, I grin at her. "It’s just that I didn’t know who or what was in my room. This is the best present, really! Makes all the hours studying navigation theory worthwhile!" I kiss her, linking my hands around the back of her neck, holding her close. She can certainly tell how happy I am from this distance, Draka smelling capabilities or no, I think, and hug her even closer.
"Mmhhh… my sweet stallion-boy," Alexandra purrs, one hand flashing down to cup me. "Ready for a ride?"
**
I lay on the bunk, staring up at the overhead, breathing deeply. Alexa emerges from the shower and tosses her damp towel down onto my chest. "Your turn, stud. You’re right, your showers wouldn’t hold the two of us."
Shivering slightly at the touch of the cool towel, I sit up. I’m still, well, visibly happy she’s here, and part of it’s her pheromones, and part of it’s just me, I think. Whoah, boy, whoah, now… "Yeah, found that out awhile back. No," I continue at her look of mock-surprise, "not me, personally. A couple tried it down on the second floor, and it took four of us to pull them out. They got wedged but good. It was pretty funny, too."
"Must’ve been!" Alexa laughs delightedly, accessing the memory from my transducer. "Gods, they really were stuck, weren’t they? That must’ve hurt! Go get in the shower, and then we’ll go down for dinner."
"Go down?" I smirk, and duck to miss her boot. I know she only tossed it at me for show, cause if it had been for real, it would’ve hit. I remember one night back home, and a snowball fight. Damn, when Draka make snowballs, and throw them, it hurts. I finally found a trash can lid that I used as a shield, but the next day a lot of us, even Mama Erin, I chuckle, had bruises…
"Almost done?"
"Almost," I sing out, rinsing the shampoo from my hair. Now that’s an easy thing to do, I muse, scratching my hands through the stubble, when you ain’t hardly got any hair left… it’ll grow back. I hope. I finish, and step quickly out of the shower, and towel down. I pause for a moment to look in the mirror, and see a happy-looking guy staring back at me. Not much hair, to be sure, but it’s longer than it was after that cutting session, I think, but I’m looking damn buffed. Not overdone, but, well, impressive. I flex an arm, checking out the muscle, and hear a sigh behind me.
"If you’ll quit primping and adoring yourself, we could go eat, darlin’," Alexandra says, with a gentle smile on her face.
"Uh, sorry. Okay. Let me get dressed…" I jog into my room, and start picking up my clothes from the deck. "Um, well… let me get a new uniform out. This one’s kinda sweaty."
"Yeah, it is." Chuckling, Alexandra sits down at my desk, and flips open my diskcase. "What’s this?"
"Um, something I’m supposed to give to you, and you’re supposed to give to your mother. From one of the Instructors here."
"Huh. Wonder what it is. Have you looked?"
I shrug into a tunic, and tuck it into my pants. "No way! And risk a session with the Security folks? Not me."
"Ah, it’s probably just a mash note, or something. Someone has a crush on Ma, and wants to visit Earth/2, or wants some humans to own, or a landholding…" Alexandra tosses the chip into her belt, sealing it shut with a thumb. "I’ll deliver it, though. Who gave it to you?"
"Overlord Instructor Coriolis." I slide my feet into my boots, and stand up, straightening my uniform. "Ready to go?"
"Hmmm…I remember her; she’s not too bad looking. Teaches unarmed and armed combat, doesn’t she?" Alexa looks me over. "You look fine, pretty-buck. Just fine. Maybe we should just order in?"
"Not after you fussed at me to get ready. Come on, Geerowl’s saving us a place at a table, too. You’ll like her." I take Alexa’s hand in mine and she stands. We’re equal, now, in height, and she looks at me with an amused expression on her face. Leaf-green eyes meet hazel ones, and I return her grin. "Please, Muhmis?"
"Okay… let’s go eat dinner with your friends. Then back here for a bit, eh?"
"No dancing?"
"Well…" she squeezes my hand. "We’ll have lots of time for dancing at home. Won’t we?"
**