Authors: James Cox
“All our love;
“Dad
***
“Micah, what is it?”
Micah realized he had the printout crumpled in his hand.
“Invitation, Ted. My younger brother's graduating.”
Micah handed Ionoski the letter. He read it quickly and handed it back.
“You could be there in three hops, Micah. Four at the most. Plenty of time.”
“Thanks, Ted. Sadly, there's this thing I have called a job. Boss probably wouldn't appreciate things if I abandoned it. Modulo the fact that Caustik doesn't like me. I think they'd welcome me entirely too well.”
Ionoski pondered a moment before answering.
“Well, as to the first you never took much leave when you were in the Marines. It's also been accumulating since you started school and duty. As to the second, well, if you can't give those soggy doofs the ghost treatment I will send you back for more training! You've also been mostly neglecting your paychits. They're just piling up, too. A short vacation would not be frowned upon by those in higher officialdoms.”
Micah tried to marshal a rebuttal, realized what he was doing and grinned at Ionoski.
“Truth all and no blather. Did you buy me a ticket, too?”
***
Lawrence Stone rattled through the door to his billet absently tossing his coat and cap at the rack in the corner. And missing. He restored them to their proper pegs, absently unbuttoning his work shirt.
“Ma. Ma, you home, sweetie?”
“In here, Pa,” came Dora's voice. She sounded strained but she'd been on shift all day.
Whistling tunelessly, and nowhere near in key, Lawrence headed for the kitchen. When he walked through the door he saw his wife and the reason for her distress.
The tall man stood as Lawrence entered. Fancy dress meant a highcarder which meant nothing good... It could only be...
“Father? Father!”
Lawrence finally recognized his son as Micah's arms went around him.
“Micah! Son! What... How...”
After a time Lawrence pushed Micah to arm's length and examined him. Difficult, considering the dampness in his eyes.
“Heaven's flames, son! What have they been feeding you?”
Micah laughed, wiping his own eyes. “We call 'em greased rats. You don't want to know.”
Lawrence returned his son's laugh. With interest. Then they all sat.
“Son, I don't know where to start. It's so wonderful to see you..." A cold thought chilled Lawrence, “Micah, the constables...”
Lawrence fell silent when Micah burst out laughing.
“That is not a problem, Father. I am a soldier in good standing with the League Marines. Officer and gentleman, high and honorable standing, et cetera and at length. The locals can't do a thing to me unless I commit a violation of the League Unified Military Code of Conduct.” Micah grinned wolfishly. “I've been learning, Father. The League can't do much to actually help the people here but I'm as safe as soya in a shed.”
Lawrence considered Micah, the casual confidence with which he spoke and the lack of concern he expressed toward anything Caustik.
“You have been learning, son. And growing.” Lawrence smiled. “So I'll try not to worry about it. Now tell us what you've been up to, boy! Your letters aren't that long!”
Micah had just finished his third ersatz assignment after graduating Protocol when Derek arrived. He and Micah came together in a laughing, back-pounding bear hug that ended with a sore hand for Deke when he tried one of his old tricks.
“Flames, Micah,” laughed Derek, “You're hard!”
“Two rocks in a bag, brother.” Micah smiled at the shorter and stringier near-copy of himself... How long ago?
“So. You here for my graduation?”
“Double-plus, little brother. You did send me an invitation.”
Derek smiled at this.
“That plus something else...”
***
“I want to take you back with me,” said Micah, "All of you." The words didn't come out easily despite the number of times Micah had rehearsed them. But he did get them out.
Lawrence and Dora exchanged looks, which formed a cold spot in Micah's gut.
“I thought that might come up,” said Lawrence, “Deke?”
“Father, you know I don't want to leave you and Mom. You really should do it.”
“I know, son.”
Those words confirmed the ice inside Micah.
“Father...”
“Micah,” said Lawrence, “your mother and I want you to take Deke with you. He deserves a better chance than I can give him here. And if there really aren't highcarders out there, well, he deserves that, too. I know you wrote you've been saving a lot but it's bound to cost a lot to get him into college.”
“Father, it's not as bad as you think.” Micah fought the desire to tell them all about his real job. And the flexible perks he could request. Scholarships for Deke were a given! “Father, there's so much you don't know about the League.”
“Son, with what your mother and I figured, what you save on us can at least get Deke a good start.”
“But Father...”
Lawrence held up his hand. “Son, just get Deke through school. When he gets a job too we'll come with you.” He looked at his sons. “Your mother and me, we swore we'd do the best for the both of you that we could. We made it this far so another couple of years shouldn't hurt.”
“Father, I really do have enough saved. It absolutely will not be a burden!”
Lawrence smiled proudly. “Then that's all the better you can do for Deke. Son, your ma and I don't plan to die in this dirt! We'll leave. Both of us. But only after you and Deke are settled in and solid.”
Micah looked deep into his father's eyes. He didn't want to accept his words but he really didn't have a choice.
“Fair enough, Father. Just don't forget this when Deke and I both have good, solid, high-paying jobs.”
Smiles. Then Derek's stomach growled.
“Which reminds me,” said Micah, “I'm staying at a very nice and very League hotel at the 'port. We're eating there tonight, my treat, no arguments!”
Micah's family slowed as they approached the plaza around the spaceport. A mean-faced constable stepped up to bar their entry.
“I am a League citizen,” said Micah, voice totally devoid of warmth, “These people are also League citizens. This is a League world and that,” Micah indicated the plaza, “is League territory. Stand aside or you'll be on a prison asteroid so far away from here they think Caustik is a myth.”
The man scowled hard with hatred and defiance. His knuckles whitened with his grip on his stunstick. Micah offered a thin, sharp smile as he settled into a combat stance. The constable took several steps back, finally, still snarling.
“Remember this,” said Micah, over his shoulder, “If anyone tries to impede your visits to the Plaza report them to the soldiers here. They will... handle things.”
“Son,” said Lawrence softly, once they crossed into the Plaza, “you have grown.”
“Tell your friends, too,” said Micah, “Despite what the highcarders think everyone here is a League citizen. And the League doesn't have highcarders!”
Despite Deke's rumbling belly Micah took a longer route through the Plaza.
“Remember what's here, Father, Mother. If you won't come with me at least you can go shopping here.”
Lawrence started to say something but didn't get a chance to finish it.
“Micah Stone!!”
Micah turned sharply. Five Marines in full dress approached. After a moment Micah recognized Jack Collins in the lead. Collins had another stripe and a few more grey hairs but the same grin Micah remembered. He embraced Micah, laughing, and Micah returned both.
“Good to see you, Micah Stone,” said Collins, “Rumor says you've been doing the League proud out there.”
“Some truth to that,” said Micah.
“Blather that some, soldier.” Collins winked. “Your family?”
Micah introduced Collins, who in turned introduced the other Marines. When Collins greeted and spoke to Lawrence he and the others stiffened almost to attention.
“It's a genuine pleasure, Mr. Stone. Mrs. Stone. Young sirra. I doubt this recycled rat jock told you anything at all but he's a bona fide hero and a credit to the League. Most of what he did will be under wraps for a long time but the facts are indisputable.”
Micah felt a blush starting but Collins hadn't finished.
“But I'm not just here to truth your family, Sergeant Stone. Security reported a near-altercation at the West Plaza entrance. That was you?”
“It was,” said Micah.
Collins grinned. “Thought so. Here lately the soggies have been pretty pucko about things. We were just wondering if they needed deflating a bit.”
“Not tonight,” said Micah.
“Pity that.” Collins handed Lawrence a small device. “Mr. Stone, this is a League communicator. Next time you or some friends want to visit, give us a call. We'll meet you at the Plaza entrance.”
Lawrence started to object but Micah silenced him.
“Do it, Father. I owe this man and his partners a lot.”
Collins' grin widened at this. “And on that subject, Micah Stone, how 'bout you look us up when we're off duty?”
“Polarity!”
After a good meal made better by a good visit Micah walked with his family back to their billet. The Caustik constables scowled, of course, but made no move to stop them.
“Don't forget,” said Micah, “Whether Caustik likes it or not you are all League citizens. If they harass you in the least, lodge a protest. Don't even give it a second thought. The people here enjoy making life uncomfortable for the local power structure.”
Before Micah left for his hotel his mother stopped him.
“Have you seen Jennifer yet?”
“No, Mother. I will, though. Umm... Please don't tell her I'm here. I want to surprise her.”
Dora smiled. “Of course, son.”
***
Out of sight of his parents' billet Micah stopped only long enough to change faces. Though Lawrence and Dora might call the hour late Micah's evening had barely started. He had a lot to accomplish before the sun rose!
Micah suppressed a twinge of guilt. He'd been onplanet two days before meeting his parents. Preparations took precedence, though, and Micah executed them with the consummate artistry of all the skills he'd learned.
Chapter 18. Old Friends and New Problems
Francis Adamson shook as the waves of euphoria coursed through him. Off to the side Lom Michaels and Fred Karris also sprawled and shook. The cheap chairs came courtesy of a prollie picnic they'd broken up. Before long they'd need replacements but the prollies never really learned. Michaels and Karris twitched feebly as the pandream wore off.
“Holy hades!” Michaels shook himself and wiped his eyes. “That was a prime score, Francis!”
“Prime!” agreed Karris.
The three rose shakily, tidied their uniforms, folded the chairs and placed them in their cruiser's trunk.
“Where'd you score it?”
“You remember that necklace we confiscated last week?”
“Confiscated!” affirmed Karris.
“Yeah.”
“I swapped it for the best.”
Adamson relished the memory as he spoke. As duly appointed Constables courtesy of his father's Status, the sad duty of spaceport patrol fell to him. Since no lowcarder could possibly have afforded such a necklace Adamson knew it as his duty to relieve the lady of it. After they had taken it, and her, they decided not to bother with the paperwork and just gave her the big boot. Apparently she learned her lesson. They didn't see her again. Another prollie back on the side of the law.
“Got any more?”
“Nah. That stuff's almost as hard to score as turbo. Besides, I'm kinda flat at the moment.”
“Flat,” contributed Karris.
Adamson winced. Fred hadn't been the same since the night he mixed turbo and hyperex.
“One way to fix that,” grinned Michaels, “Sweep for stolen goods?”
“Polar to orbit!”
Adamson whistled as he drove the hover around the lowcarder end of the 'port. Of late the prollies were cautious and aware of them. Their scores kept shrinking. Still, prollies weren't bright. Besides, Adamson had a good feeling about tonight.
In the distance ahead Adamson spied a prollie couple walking arm in arm. He killed the lights, switched on night vision and pulled the hover as close to the couple as he dared. They weren't walking fast so Adamson managed to get Michaels and Karris into ambush position ahead of them. This trail he knew well. Every spot where they could hide, seek and prey.
The lowcarders strolled into the ambush with eyes fixed on each other. Adamson smiled. She was a pretty piece and he didn't look tough at all.
“FREEZE, ZILCHIES!” bellowed Adamson, switching his light to full wide.
The two might have thought to run but Karris, always present for such duties, and Michaels stepped forward, stunsticks at the ready.
“Wh... what...” the male prollie tried to speak. The female just made a small terror-sound.
“What? What have we here, now,” asked Adamson, “Prowlers, is it? Prollies looking for trouble?”
“N-no, sir. We... We...”
“I said SHADDUP, zilchie. You want trouble?”
“N-n...”
“Well you GOT it! ON THE GROUND, prollie. NOW!”
Fear oozed from the two, tangible and oh, so pleasant. She fell to the ground instantly but he went to his knees first. Excellent! Adamson and Karris could have some more fun.
“Ground! Now!” echoed Karris.
Before Adamson could club the kneeling prollie a chunk of shadow detached from the night around them. Karris grunted to the sound of a meaty thunk and collapsed to the ground. Before Michaels could act the darkness hit him. It resolved itself into the shape of a man, a demon-thing that avoided every punch or kick Michaels threw. It stepped in and struck. Once. Michaels gasped and folded to the ground.
That bought Adamson time to act! He flashed his light at the thing's eyes and swung his club low and hard. The club slipped right past the shadow as it advanced. Its arms moved and Adamson's light fell to the ground, his arm too numb to hold it. He tried to reverse his club into an arm breaker but still the shadow avoided him. He felt the club wrenched from his grasp, his other arm a solid bar of pain, then he saw the end of the club sink just under his ribs. Adamson felt himself fall as a simple breath of air became his only concern.