Next morning, Keelic drifted around in his room unable to leave, and daydreamed about the blonde. He created names for her, stole starships for her, and named them in her honor. The Ship-Ann announced lunch, and he longed to go out and search the ship for a way into the forward quarters. His mother brought food, but she wasn’t angry any more, only smiling and quiet. He wondered at her lack of anger, but was afraid to break her mood by asking about it.
His console was locked out of all the entertainment systems, and after trying to break the locks, he called up history education and spent the afternoon watching battles from the Galactic War on the walls of his room.
His mother brought dinner. Though he tried to make her stay, she seemed disinclined and left, telling him not to stay up too late.
Lonely, and filled with thoughts of blonde hair, he ignored the food. Aloneness turned to anger and he hated his parents for keeping him away from her, hated the Ship-Ann for keeping the door locked, and most of all hated where he was and where he was going. His thoughts turned to Tamarin, and the adventures they’d had. Tears were drawn away by the ventilation system, but not the pain.
In the morning of his second day of confinement, the Ship-Ann announced imminent arrival at the Ermol system. Deceleration would commence in six hours. The lights were out and he was still in his bed. Something hard formed in his throat, and he tried to go back to sleep to make it go away. His parents appeared on the console and cheerfully asked him to breakfast to end his punishment. Keelic declined.
Shutting off the bed, he let himself drift around the room in darkness and silence. There was no direction, no light, no sound to give bearings, only the universal tone of the translight engines. In the darkness the ship hummed about faraway places. Places a ship could call home. Other ships to talk to and fight with. Ships with a sense of adventure like Tamarin had.
The door opened, and he squinted against the light.
His father, talking and beaming at Mother, stopped with a frown. His parents floated for a moment in the doorway, light from the hall streaming around them. Their son was upside down to them, drifting away.
"What are you doing?" Father asked.
Mother squeezed Father’s arm and said, "We’re going to pack our things and then go forward to the observation deck for deceleration. The approach to the system will be at slomatter, and we’re sure to have a wonderful view. We’ve reserved observation deck seats. Front row."
Father seemed to remember something and smiled encouragement. Keelic almost said he knew how ships approached, and it was called nominal not slomatter, but he kept silent. He was remembering watching his home, Pesfor 3, receding into nothing.
Despite his misery, the thought of watching an approach from the observation deck was thrilling. They had never watched the other planetfalls from there because of the expense.
Father said, "Mary-Ann, raise the lights two hundred lumens." The walls began to brighten, and Mother poked him in the ribs. He said in mock exasperation, "Okay, okay. Lights, faint glow."
Keelic blinked, not from the light, but in surprise. Mother never played with Father that way.
"Pack your things, and we’ll go get those seats," she said.