Somebody Else's Space Program
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Chapter Three "Why does he live in a world that can't be, And what does he want of me... "
Midmorning on a Saturday, and the autumn winds were whipping up a bit, but not enough to even distract the two young men who were crouched over a model rocket on a launch stand. The rocket would head out over the water, the least danger to any passersby. Curious seagulls hovered nearby -- humans on the beach often meant food.
The final checklist was taken care of. "Okay, all clear. Jesse, get back over here." A sound from down the beach, growing closer. "Hold the launch, Drum. Something's coming." Ross grabbed Jesse's collar while Nat Drummond disconnected the power from the ignition coil. Saving time by leaving it hooked wasn't worth it; having the rocket go off unwanted was downright dangerous.
Someone was driving up the beach, right across their firing range. The low-slung, black car was open topped, and the passenger was sitting on the back of the seat rather than in the seat proper. The car's design was subtly wrong, somehow, or at least alien, built with a foreigner's sense of esthetics.
"Pretty, though," Ross remarked, his attention on the lines of the car. He picked Jesse up and scratched behind her ears.
"She certainly is," Drum answered. But _his_ attention was somewhat above the level of the fenders. The passenger -- Ross recognized her as last year's visitor -- her loose clothing flowing out behind her, waved to the two youngsters. The car pulled up and growled to a soft purr, then silence, only the hiss of the surf beyond it.
The driver didn't bother with opening the door -- he boosted himself up onto the door of the car, swung his legs over and dropped onto the sand. It was another of the hruss, dressed in the same quality of clothing, albeit darker in color, and about ten years older than the woman. His dark hair was longer than the two boys had seen a man wear it except in old paintings, and it was drawn back and tied behind the man's head.
The man moved around the car and helped the woman off onto the sand. Next to each other, it was obvious that the two were close kin. She whispered something to him, and he nodded. "My sister says you live in the area." Drum nodded, Ross, distracted by Jesse struggling in his arms, took a moment to respond.
"Yes." Ross almost waved toward his house with his hand, then remembered the chin-pointing the woman had used at their last meeting. Maybe it was rude to point otherwise, in their culture? Ross used the chin gesture, "Not far from here."
The man nodded, slowly, "You are Ross?" His voice was deeper than his sister's but held the same music, the same liquid warmth.
"Yes. This is Nat Drummond..."
" -- Drum -- "
"... and this is Jesse." When she heard her name, she licked at her master's face. Ross pushed her away gently, smiling, then released her back onto the beach.
"I am Jheraind, and this is my sister Mairyonven." With half a grin, "Jerry, if you prefer, and Ree. That's easier for foreigners to say. Our family is staying some miles down the beach." A sweeping hand gesture, back the way the car had come.
Jesse checkrd out the new arrivals, with their new scents, both the people and the car. Mairyonven crouched down and ruffled Jesse's ears. Then she clapped her hands in dismay, "Oh, I forgot. I promised to bring treats this time. Where is Caitlin? And you said the other one was Brigit?"
She remembered that? After more than a year? "They don't like the fireworks. Jesse doesn't mind, so I bring her out here instead."
"Fireworks?" Jheraind asked. "Is that what you have set up here? A fireworks display?"
Jheraind moved over toward the test stand while Mairyonven turned and looked for something in the backseat of the car.
"It's a rocket, not ornamental. We're testing a new fuel." Ross started in on details of the different fuels they had tried, and how they had been less than adequate. That was _his_ interest in the project - Drum was taking care of the mechanical aspects, the linkages, steering, and the firing mechanisms.
Drum was distracted by Mairyonven -- Ross had to nudge him to get his attention. "And you're ready to fire? Or were, when we interrupted?"
Jheraind nodded, paying close attention. Mairyonven turned around, a small paper-wrapped packet in her hand, and crouched next to the car. "Come here, Jesse. See if you like this."
"That," Jheraind said, "is our lunch, sister. Although... " his eyes travelled down Ross and up again, then over to Drum. "Perhaps the young gentlemen would like to join us. And then, perhaps, we can see a launch?"
"Certainly!"
Jesse made short work of the... sandwich? Drum found a fairly clean blanket with their packing materials and spread it out on the sand to sit on. Ross didn't understand why Jheraind had been concerned by one single sandwich -- the contents of the basket that came out of the back of the car could have kept him and Drum fed for half a week.
There were sandwiches, and small containers of vegetables unlike anything that Ross or Drum had ever tasted on a picnic -- or on the dinner table, for that matter. And there was tea, but cold and very sweet, served out of bulky bottles that were very light for their size. Ross's family seldom had desserts, other than fruit when available -- the sugar in the drink was nearly nauseating, until it hit his bloodstream, then it was intoxicating. Ross gulped it...
Pain. Something was driving a white-hot needle into his eye socket, he choked back a whimper. Mairyonven giggled, then apologized. "It is the cold drink. You drank it too fast." She took the glass out of his hand.
"Here." Jheraind pressed a sun-warmed stone against Ross's temple, holding it there. "Is that any better?"
"Some, yes." The heat helped Ross's headache. Drum sipped his own drink cautiously, expecting himself to be stricken at any instant. Ross's hand came up to adjust where the stone was -- his hand encountered Jheraind's.
"Ree, what _is_ this stuff?"
"Tea, sweetened. Oh, yes. Our people sweeten things much more heavily than your do." She dug into the bottom of the basket and brought out a tin. When opened, the aroma of spices and honey rose from the golden mass inside. She cut the treat into small, crusty pieces, and handed one to Drum.
Drum tasted it cautiously, then stuffed the piece into his mouth greedily. "This is _good_."
Jheraind took a piece and touched it to Ross's lips. "Slowly. It isn't cold, but it has even more sugar than the drink." The spicy aroma wasn't only from the pastry -- some of it was from Jheraind's hand. Ross tasted... Ross's eyes slid half-shut as he savored it, and he was embarassed when he realized he had licked his lips for the last crumbs and encountered Jheraind's fingertips.
"Is the headache gone?" Jheraind asked, softly.
"Yes, thank you." Ross let go of the stone and rubbed his temple with his hand. "I didn't know cold would do that."
Jheraind smiled, "Yes. You just have to be careful."
Drum, "What about doing a launch, Ross?"
Jheraind rose gracefully to his feet, and offered Ross a hand up. His handclasp was firm and warm, a little dry, as Ross came to his feet.
Mairyonven fed one tidbit more to Jesse, who had been behaving herself very well for a dog with countless temptaions on a blanket, and rose. Drum looked at the launch platform, then at the beach. "Jheraind, you have to move the car. If we have a partial burn, you're in the landing area."
Jheraind looked at Ross. "Do you drive?"
"My uncle says I'm too young..." Ross grinned, "but he doesn't know everything. Yes. I can drive."
"I see." This time the chin point at the car. "Move the car to where you think it will be safe."
Ross grinned again, and headed for the car. A moment's investigation to find the ignition, then he got it into gear and headed further down the beach, not quite daring to back it up.
Drum helped Mairyonven collect the remains of the meal, then put the blanket back with the other packing material. The launch trigger was almost reconnected when Ross returned, a bit shortwinded and flushed from running back.
Final checklist, then Ross collected Jesse and held her. "It's noisy -- is everyone ready?" Affirmatives all around. "On three... one. Two. Three!" And Drum flipped the switch.
Fire and smoke and a roar... the rocket rose into the sky, heading toward the ocean. Mairyonven clapped her hands in delight. Ross let Jesse go and shaded his eyes, trying to follow the rocket's path as far as he could. "Your father won't let us bring his binoculars out here, will he."
Drum laughed, "I'm lucky he'll let _me_ come out here." A splash in the distance, on the right bearing, but no way to tell if it was the rocket's impact or a fish leaping out of the water.
Ross and Drum busied themselved for a few moments checking the condition of the launch platform, and took notes on the rocket's performance. "I think we have the holddown delay about right this time.."
"When is your next launch?" Jehraind asked. "I'd like to watch."
Drum shrugged. "We don't have a lot of money. We have to build a new vehicle every time. Call it a couple of months."
"Forgive me. If you had the money, how soon could you launch again?"
"Two months," Ross said. "We have to machine the engine parts -- that takes time."
"And you are working at jobs..."
"No. We're in school. Even though we could probably take the end of year exams and pass them. They won't let us."
Jheraind's eyebrow rose. "Your talents are being wasted. There is nothing I can do about the school, but perhaps I can help you otherwise. How much money do you need? To do it right, not having to cut corners?"
Ross ran figures over in his head, then remembered some unexpected expenses that had nearly scuttled the most recent launch. He took his first figure and doubled it. "One hundred dollars."
From inside his tunic Jheraind drew a fold of bills, and peeled some out of the middle. "I am going to assume that boys" did Ross imagine an odd spin on that word? "would not be expected to spend large denomination bills without question, but I think you should have no problems with these." He took Ross's hand, opened it, and put the bills on Ross's palm, closing Ross's fingers over them."
"Thank you." Ross didn't count the money, but he had seen that they were twenties, and there were certainly more than five of them. "How do we reach you, to tell you when the next launch is?"
"You'll be buying the fuel last, correct? I'll know, then."
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Drum, "How much did he give you?"
Ross took the bills out from where he had stuffed them into his pocket. Counting... "Two hundred and fifty."
Drum's jaw dropped. "Where does he get that kind of money to throw around?"
"Didn't you see that car? He's rich -- at least his family is."
Drum smiled when Ross said "family." "Nice looking sister."
"I guess." Ross thrust the money into Drum's hand. "You've been doing the buying."
"Yes." An evil grin, "But _he_'s buying _you_, not me."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Don't tell me you didn't notice? He was treating you like a _girl_, Ross. He's _courting_ you."
Ross turned bright red. "What are you talking about?"
"You don't know what some of their men do?" Drum started to describe various activities, in an undertone. But what he said was ugly, and could have nothing to do anyone like Jheraind, could it?
It certainly had nothing to do with how much Ross had enjoyed, finally admitting it to himself, Jheraind's attention. The hruss were a graceful people, softspoken... "I'm _not_ a girl. And _I_ don't believe he was treating me like one."
"If you say so, Rosie. Maybe _he_ wants to be the girl. He's a lot prettier than you are."
Drum ducked the wad of packing material Ross threw at him.
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