“It’s just,” he said as he shifted in his seat, “things have changed a little bit.”
“Changed how? Are you being a fool on me? What’s this about?”
“Rebbi’s changed,” he said, unable to look at her, knowing that once she started to glare it took her a long time to relax. “Her mind, I mean. She’s changed it. She wants to go to Ancia.”
Chera shrieked. Her hand grabbed her mouth and she almost fainted.
“Nothing to be done about it,” Rolondo said as he studied his teacup.
“You promised I was going,” Chera gasped. She quickly stood up, as if to intimidate him. She waved her arms around, becoming more upset. “Ro, you don’t know what it means to me. I have to go. Make her stay here. She made up her mind, she can’t go changing it back. Make her stay. You can just make her stay. She said she wanted to stay. It was her idea.”
“Can’t do that,” he said and he still couldn’t look her in the eye.
“You make her stay here or she’s knowing everything about you and me. You hear me?”
“You know she knows a fair bit already.”
“Does she know about this here? Does she know how you went straight over here and begged me to take her place? Moment she said she’s out, you offered me her place. Didn’t leave any time to waste, coming here with your begging eyes. Does she know that? Well, does she?”
Rolondo knew that he should tell her the rest of his story, but her demeanour wasn’t exactly what he was hoping. He realised that he had forgotten her sudden mood-swings; the main reason that he had cheated on her with Rebbi.
“I’m still going to Ancia,” Chera said, both hands on hips now, standing over him like she was about to hit him. “You said I was, and that’s what’s going to happen.”
“I agree.”
“You do what?”
“I’m agreeing with you. I said you’re going, that’s what’s going to happen. Trouble is, it’s a little complicated now.”
“Complicated how?”
Rolondo drank the last of his tea and sat back, content with his plan and knowing that she would agree to it. How could she not? He didn’t want to hurt Rebbi’s feelings, or cause problems with her family, so she had to go. But if Chera still wanted to go then she would have to engage in a bit of a charade. As he spoke, her face lost life and she sat numbly on the edge of her seat. All she could think about was the images and remarks about how great a world Ancia was, and how going there would be the greatest thing any human could do.
“Who’s he, this guy?” she asked vaguely.
“Just some guy. Don’t worry about him. You just have to pretend for a little while, and then it’s Ancia, all around us, for the rest of our lives.”
“Pretend? Like I’m his girl?”
“Just for a bit.”
“Don’t expect me to love on him. He knows that, right? It’s just for show?”
“Chera, I want you to do the best acting you can. This is no small thing here. We can’t get Rebbi suspicious.”
Now Chera had enough of him. She gave him a punch on his leg, the hardest she could do. “That’s for getting my hopes up. And you are the one who’s going to control her, not me. Get her to Ancia, then she can do what she wants. But there, it’s us together and we won’t need to see her again.”
Rolondo agreed and didn’t add that he would be happy to live with either one, or even both.
* * * *
For the first time in a long time, TC had clearly not been drinking. Dawn-Star was relieved to see him sober and busy in the work of preparing his ship. He was sitting at his worn pilot chair, following his checklist, all serious concentration. He displayed the very image of the reason for his legendary status amongst his fellow deep space pilots; an unmatched determination that sometimes bordered on rage. To fly a ship for years, so far into deep space that it was beyond the help of any rescue, called for someone of incredibly strong will. It was the sort of heart that a pilot only knew they had when they found themselves in that situation. And there he was, getting ready to go out again.
When he first noticed her presence he gave a barely audible greeting. It was clear to her that while he loved her as a daughter, he did not enjoy her presence on the flight deck. She knew not to take such a reaction personally, since he was always very moody when going through pre-flight checks. Anything wrong would be greeted with loud cursing, and then worried fretting until the problem was solved. The worst thing that anyone could do was distract him, but Dawn knew she needed to see him.
It was the first time that she had been up to the flight deck since she was fifteen, and it brought back old memories. Back in those days, she hated everything about the place, and instead found out all she could about Earth. Unlike most young people her age, Dawn dreamed of having a normal life on Earth and far away from any space ports, or boasting explorers, or alien planets. Like her brother, she was born at T Station out at Alpha Centauri. Once a UDE base, it was then privately owned by DSE, Deep Space Exploration, to train crews for dangerous missions to find life planets far distant into the galaxy. Her mother Candice did not share TC’s sense of adventure and left the two children at the station and returned to Earth. It took Dawn two years, when she was fifteen, until TC let her return to Earth, where she attended Liggins, a pricey private girl’s school. Three years later, she found herself at UDE’s cadet school, not understanding that she was living TC’s life instead of her own. It was there that she met Roberto Canatro, soon to become her husband. It was Robbie who made her realise that she should pursue her own life.
The Burning Star was much like she remembered from nine years ago. The only differences were the added equipment; all upgrades upon upgrades, and no doubt faster in every way. It was all TC seemed to talk about when she had lived on the ship, that one day he could afford better machines with faster speeds; all the more reason to conquer the galaxy. At the time, she viewed such boasts as fantasy, as she never saw the ship go very far. Now she realised that the reason TC had not actually sailed out into the uncharted galaxy, never expecting to return, was because of her and her brother.
“Don’t pin any hopes to seeing Jupe,” Dawn-Star said to TC as she sat in the first seat. From the doorway it looked small and uncomfortable, but once inside it was roomy and somewhat exciting.
“Why would I do that?” he asked irritably, not looking at her.
“You asked me too.”
“Remind me.”
“See Jupe before the launch?”
“Jupe? I don’t want him anywhere near my launch.”
With that he went back to his checklist and did not notice Dawn-Star leaving and wiping a tear from her face. She knew he was doing as he should, making sure his ship was flight-worthy, all the more necessary due to the passengers—children included—and the fact he was doing it sober was heartening. But for that moment she wished he had indeed been drinking, when he would at least look at her with something other than an annoyance. And with bad news that he wouldn’t even admit was bad news. She decided that was the last time she would try to help TC’s relationship with his son.
* * * *
Morgan Calp had been wandering around the flight compound for a good half-hour, concerned over everything he saw, that it all indicated a cancelled flight. He noted the empty storage areas and lack of prep-crew. It was two days since he had seen Rolondo Rees and Real Munro loading their crates, and he had expected more to follow. His own equipment had been loaded first, and in the safest parts of the ship’s hold. When he saw that the other passengers were not rich men, and even a little scruffy, he needed to know who they were. After a few discreet contacts to people he knew in government communications, he had his answer.
Rolondo Rees was twenty-eight and worked as a flybike tester for Hurrel, a small but influential company. He was married to Rebbi Rees and they had no children. They were good candidates to become legal colonists, one of millions, and Morgan guessed they were taking the shortcut with Beggs because
they couldn’t wait. As far as Morgan could see, they led a boring life, and that told him that they shouldn’t be a threat to him.
Real Munro, on the other hand, was full of mystery. At thirty-four, he had been unemployed for six months. His work history was sporadic, with his previous work being a kitchen hand. He served two years in prison for fraud and perjury, and that fact alone made him ineligible to become an Ancian colonist. The murder charge he faced had been dropped and someone else was convicted. It was a nasty case, with a young woman beaten and raped, and although none of the charges had stuck to Real, Morgan could not help thinking that he could have done it. If Morgan had more influence on the flight, and if he had not wanted to keep a low profile, he would have tried to convince TC to have Real removed from the ship. He still needed to know where Real got his money to afford the flight fee and the new machinery.
He heard a vehicle approaching the ship and tried to hide from the headlights, but was too late and he was engulfed in light. The car’s horn sounded twice, and then with a flurry. The occupants were celebrating that they had seen him, and they drove closer. Dust kicked up by the hovering vehicle caused Morgan to shield his eyes. When he opened them he saw the car stationary and one of the back door’s wide open, as if inviting him to come inside. He knew who it must be.
* * * *
More than anything, it was what Jupe heard in The Rad One’s tone of voice than in what he said, that motivated him. Knowing how most of the members of the surfing group liked to gossip, it would not be long before everyone thought that he hated his father. While most of the group had little time for their parents, Jupe’s father happened to be a hero for the masses, someone who came from nothing and made a name for himself. TC had been an orphan and never felt like anywhere was his real home. For someone with no family money or formal education to have become a star pilot, was seen as remarkable. He pulled off a great space rescue and his name became world famous, and if Jupe told anyone that he really wasn’t that great, no one would take him seriously. It was not a matter of trying to prove them wrong for his own peace of mind, since he had long ago stopped caring what his father thought of him. He just wanted to be able tell the surfers that he had gone to see TC before his last great voyage. Then they would see that he was still worthy to be considered the best surfer, both through his own ability and the very fact of who he was related to. As much as he hated the idea, he would rather have his mates think of him as great because of his father, than as someone who hated a hero.
“I’m not like you. Don’t think I am,” he mumbled as he drove to the port, rehearsing his meeting.
To his surprise, the bored guard let him through without making him stop, and he parked in the first vacant spot he saw. It was a long walk to the ship, but it gave him a chance to take a good look at the famous Burning Star. His home for most of his childhood, the only lingering memories was of running down the corridors pretending to chase aliens. TC always laughed at him for doing that, saying that if any real aliens turned up then he would be running from them, not the other way around.
The sharp white of the hull that he saw in his childhood, was dull now, and littered with replaced panels of various shades. The engines looked different too, and he couldn’t help but divert his course to try to see what name was on them. He knew they would be one of the best available, as TC would not be flying it if it didn’t. Perhaps the only thing he did admire about his father was that he demanded the best and usually got it.
The corridors and rooms looked the same, except a lot smaller. He thought that he could still remember the course he liked to run, that would take him down to the big hold and back up to the flight deck in under five minutes. He was surprised that it all came back to him and he remembered the way to the flight deck. Not wanting to admit to himself that he was eager to see it again, he was assuming it would be the best place to find TC. When he got there his heart jumped. The endless controls, the worn seats, the view outside, was the way he still saw it in his dreams. His favourite chair, the pilot’s, was empty, and he almost jumped in it to relive those days. He would sit there, barely able to see out the narrow viewscreen, and pretend to be zipping through nebulae cloud and asteroid clusters, shooting down the aliens with blasts of coloured laser, just as they would in the movies. The reality was that the ship’s guns were disguised and gave no image or sound when they were fired.
His father was lying on the floor, reaching down a service hatch, checking for any failed circuitry, and cleaning out all the dust that had accumulated since the ship’s last flight. Jupe said nothing in greeting and just waited for him to come up. He fought his desire to sit in that main seat again. He did not want to give TC the satisfaction of thinking that he had any desire to go back into space.
TC gave a small smile when he looked up and saw him. He stood up and dusted himself, looking unsure of what to say, and knowing that Jupe wasn’t going to be the first.
“Not long till we leave,” TC said, seeing that Jupe wasn’t wanting to stay for long. “Go ahead and sit there,” he gestured to the pilot chair.
“That’s yours. I’m no pilot.”
“Why say that? You’re as good a pilot as me. I know that’s a fact. I’ve seen you. What are you piloting these days? A surfboard? Come on, you’re better than that. I’ll show you waves—solar waves you won’t believe. Try navigating around something you can’t see, that’ll kill you if you look at it wrong. Can water do that?”
“I only came here to tell you goodbye,” Jupe said, his voice confident. There was no sentimentality left regarding his father. If his father had been the Burning Star itself, that would have been another matter. “Now you can go do whatever it is you want to do. Fly off wherever you want. Have a nice time, but I prefer water, thanks.”
TC was actually friendly to him, and that put Jupe off guard. “I want you to see the controls. You’d be impressed. It’s changed since you saw it last. You won’t believe how powerful it is now. When were you here last, anyway? You were this high, not much more. We’ve increased the thrust beyond that of a thousandfold from those days. What they can do now, I wish we had this when I was your age. Wouldn’t have messed around with DSE all those years. All those empty suits and family connections, getting promotions ahead of me and Willie. Wasted so much time filling out forms and completing repetitive tests. When the galaxy sat there untouched and laughing at us.”
Jupe was not expecting this from TC, but he was still unimpressed by him. “The whole world’s changed since I saw it last, so why would the ship be any different?”
“When you were a boy you loved sitting at those controls, pretending to be some deep-space ranger, or something, I don’t know. I did try to ask, you know, but I could never get much sense out of you in those days. All ‘zap-zap’ and laser-targeting monsters.”
“Yeah, well, I am no longer a boy, and I’m going now.”
“You still do little boy things, like surf.”
That made him stop in his tracks. TC was still much the same, saying hard things out of the blue. Things that cut deep and really hurt. “You don’t know anything about me,” he answered defensively.
“Which is why I need to spend some time with you. After today, we’re going, and after I drop these passengers off at Ancia, I’m heading back to T Station, where I’m to live out the rest of my natural existence. I know you’re a man now, but all I know of you is you as a boy. Give me a chance. Just spend some time here, take this one visit, see the controls, patronise me this little bit. Can you do that for me? It’s all I’m asking. I’m never coming back, Jupe. After this day, that’s it. No more Earth days for TC.”
“I can’t stay, so no. Goodbye, and for what it’s worth, enjoy the T.”
“You know it’s yours? You do know that, don’t you?”
“I know what’s mine?”
“The ship. The Burning Star. Left it to you. It’s all legal, you can check it if you want. My new will. You can have the ship, the storage area, the
prep machines, the whole company. Even the wasted Wilsons, if you want them. If I were you, I’d find some younger ones. They’re getting a little long in the tooth. Actually, that’s how they were when I first met them. They weren’t the worst out there, either.”
“Why would you do that? The ship?”
“You’re my son. This is the only way I have of …” He stopped, searching for the right word, then said, “showing you …” and stopped again. This kind of emotional conversation was foreign for him.
“If you do that, leave me the ship, it’s not going to stop me hating your guts. You know I hate your guts, right?”
“I’ve put my heart and soul into this ship,” TC said with grit, ignoring Jupe’s confrontation.
“Then I hate it as much as I hate you,” Jupe said, choosing his words, knowing how hard they’ll hurt him. So many times he had rehearsed those words, and now he had the confidence to actually speak them to his face.
TC didn’t seem affected. “One day you won’t hate me so much. You’ll be old and I’ll be long gone. I know you’ll still hate me, just not so much. Can you take a look at the new controls, at least?”
Jupe wondered why TC gave no reaction to his last words, and thought it was a case of him not listening, or not caring. TC was so insistent that Jupe follow him to main controls that he could not fight himself agreeing. Perhaps in doing so he was humouring him, or perhaps he really did want to see it again. The sight of the pilot seat made him linger, wishing he could experience that again.
Thax Wilson seemed to come from nowhere, and with no word he put his heavy hands on Jupe’s shoulders and roughly pushed him into a small side room. Jupe protested as loudly and as violently as he could, but no words were given in reply. He saw TC just staring at him without emotion, his mouth fixed shut like he was uninterested in saying anything. Thax’s eyes were cold and robotic, and he was far too strong for Jupe to resist. The door was quickly locked. No matter how much he yelled and kicked over the next few hours, no one came to let him out.