A Planned Improvisation (2 page)

The Diet, however, failed to respect the surrender and, instead, sent a negotiator who had no intention of negotiating in good faith. After an attempt to browbeat the Humans and Mer into giving up all they had gained, this new negotiator had ordered an attack on Van Winkle Base, nearly destroying the small spaceport. Park had been prepared for the man’s duplicity, however, and had weapons ready to shoot down the attacking ships.

But Earth was not without friends in the Diet. Chief among them was Lord Rebbert Nrenth of Dennsee, whose son Dannet had been rescued in space by Park’s ship. Finally, after fending off various attacks and official investigations, Earth had at last won the right to own the Solar System, have a representative on the Diet and, if they could learn how to build a starship, travel throughout the Alliance. To date they had yet to perfect a stardrive, however. It was one of the only two failures by Veronica Sheetz and even she had to admit that the other might truly be impossible.

Since acceptance as provisional members of the Alliance, Earth had enjoyed three peaceful and prosperous years. Mer and Atackack students had come to Van Winkle Town to learn from the Humans and, in turn, teach what they knew. Tack had delivered a troop of young Atackack, whom Marisea had taken under her wing. As members of a Stone Age culture they had the most to learn but they could already serve on a space ship and this past year the first of them had attended University-level classes. Among the Atackack, all people were classified into castes of a sort determined by their occupations. These were the first Atackack Academics.

While working hard to learn from and to understand the Humans and Mer, the Atackack were surprised to discover that they too had something to teach. Few Mer and Humans knew much about the Atackack and while their technology was relatively primitive, their philosophy and logic was not. Together, the three species were becoming Earthlings, members of a single culture.

Following Marisea’s speech, the small group of graduates lined up as the dean of the local campus walked along their line and distributed diplomas. It struck Park as odd, having been used to seeing graduates file past their deans instead, but this was a smaller class – less than two dozen – and having the dean go from student to student made the process seem more personalized and sincere.

And then came the reception. “Park, Iris!” Marisea exclaimed when she finally saw them through the crowd. Excitedly the young Mer hop-ran toward them. Her suspensor belt kept her upright over the ground and allowed her to employ her tail for locomotion in the peculiar hopping manner the Mer adopted when out of the water. She threw herself into Park’s arms and kissed him soundly.

The young Mer’s familiarity had shocked Park when she first behaved that way, but it was a part of Mer culture that the man who escorts a Mer female to her first formal event shares a special relationship. He was called her
tamovir
and it was not uncommon for young Mer females to cuddle and kiss their
tamovirs
. It was a socially acceptable way to practice in preparation for their first boyfriends. Normally, such behavior slackened off once a Mer female started dating, but some continued their close relationships to their
tamovirs
throughout their lives.

A
tamovir
was also traditionally consulted before a Mer female could date or marry. It was an old custom that was starting to fade, but Marisea was a traditional girl at heart even if she was absolutely
avant garde
in her career choice. As one of the most famous people on Earth, Park thought he intimidated most of Marisea’s young men, but so far as Marisea was concerned, if they couldn’t stand up to Park, they probably weren’t good enough for her as well.

Iris also had a special place in Marisea’s life. She had presented the young Mer with her first piece of jewelry, a small gold charm in the form of the Hebrew letters Ches and Yod
, pronounced
Chai
it was the word for “Life” and Marisea wore it constantly. By doing so, Iris had stood in for Marisea’s mother who, sadly, had died years earlier.

“Congratulations,” Iris told her warmly. She, too, had grown used to Marisea’s spontaneous acts of affection with Park. The Mer was a part of their family and she lived with them more than she did with her own father. Iris had been holding Cousin during the ceremony, but now handed her over to Marisea.

“Thanks,” Marisea laughed. “So where are we going this year? Australis?”

“One of these years we should send an expedition there,” Park admitted. “But I think it’s going to have to be a heavily armed one. You’ve seen the pictures.”

“Taken from satellites,” Marisea pointed out. “Those big, moving creatures might be herbivores. Huh! They might be trees for all we know. We have motile plants on Pangaea, you know. They’re interesting but hardly dangerous.”

“Whatever we see in those shots, they are larger than any of the motile trees on Pangaea,” Park pointed out. “They could be carnivorous. They might even move faster than we can. I don’t think we want to take undue chances on our first look at Australis.”

“You took one heck of a chance going out in a boat with just Iris the time we first met,” Marisea laughed.

“I was young and foolish,” Park retorted. “I also did not have a lot of choice in the matter, but it was not that great a chance. We already had a notion about the wildlife from what we saw around here.”

“Around here, we never saw landsquids, flying octopi or neo-crocs,” Iris pointed out, “but someone had to explore and that boat was all Arn was likely to let us use.”

“So then, where to this year?” Marisea pressed. Each summer she had gone with Park and Iris to explore some new region on Pangaea. The first two years they had been accompanied by Dannet of Dennsee and Sartena from the planet Tzantza, but their duties as ambassadors had more recently cut into their leisure time. This time it would just be Park, Iris and Marisea.

“I decided it should be someplace special, considering this is sort of a graduation present,” Park told her.

“So?” Marisea asked excitedly.

“Yellowstone,” Park told her.

“Where?” Marisea asked.

“Are you sure it’s still there?” Iris asked at the same time.

“Well, so far as I can tell, it’s where it always was, but the continental plate has shifted back and forth over it,” Park explained. “If I’m right, the volcano we knew as Yellowstone National Park is now in Alaska. At least there’s a caldera about where it ought to be.”

“Should I pack cold weather gear?” Iris wondered out loud.

“Warm clothing for use at night, perhaps,” Park considered, “but Alaska is currently enjoying a temperate climate. Pangaea’s climate, in general, is much warmer than anything we knew back in the Twenty-first century, even with global warming. It should be nice and warm during the day.”

Park had intended to leave the next morning, but Colonel Arnsley Theoday had other ideas when they met that morning at their usual spot on top of the hill over the old subterranean base. “Park, I was hoping you could supervise the port runway inspections. It’s that time of year again, you know.”

Park looked down on the large settlement that was Van Winkle Town and took a slow sip of his coffee. They had long since run out of the genuine
Coffea arabica
that had been in stasis along with the colonists, but the Mer had long imbibed a similar beverage, While slightly lower in caffeine and made from a different species of bean, it had a similar taste and some of the humans preferred it. All had pretty much grown used to it. They all called this new stuff coffee and the original bean no longer existed.

“I can look at the reports when I return, Arn,” Park replied. “My people at the spaceport know their jobs; I don’t have to breathe down their necks to get results.”

“Nothing beats the personal touch, Park,” Arn insisted.

“I prefer to delegate,” Park parried. “Somehow I thought you did too.”

“Funny,” Arn shot back, “your usual style is to do it yourself.”

“Within reason, Arn,” Park shook his head. He took another sip and continued, “Yes, I use a hands-on approach most of the time. I lead our Exploration Corps by example. I go out on at least one or two expeditions each year, but I also know enough to assign jobs to those who are best suited for them. I can do a visual inspection of a runway and if I see cracks in the pavement I can report them, but I am not the best person to determine whether those cracks are superficial or something more dangerous to the planes and ships that must roll over then. I do have several men and women who can do that, so I leave the job to them.”

“When was the last time you checked the runways for yourself?” Arn asked.

“I do every time I fly into the port,” Park replied.

“That’s not what I meant,” Arn shook his head, “and you know it. Don’t you think you should walk the length of the runways and see their conditions for yourself? The jets that land here don’t need a lot of support, but our spacecraft are a heck of a lot heavier. The runways need regular inspections. Even small cracks could turn into major problems especially when the wet season begins.”

“I know that Arn,” Park replied tiredly, “but the wet season is half a year away.” They were both silent for a while. “Do you really think there’s a problem with the runways?” Park asked at last.

“I think I would feel better if you had a look for yourself,” Arn replied.

“I’ll give you one day,” Park capitulated.

“That’s all I ask,” Arn replied.

“That’s all you ask today,” Park told him sourly, “but I’ve been through this dance with you before. Tomorrow I will be on vacation if I have to hold a town meeting to do it.”

“Who are you kidding,” Arn scoffed. “You never take a day off.”

“I may quote you on that,” Park warned him.

Two hours later, Marisea tracked Park down as he and two others were walking along one of the runways. “Park,” she complained and she drove up in the Mer equivalent of a jeep. The vehicle had rounder lines than the Humvees and ATVs of Van Winkle Base, and had controls only a Mer tail could work, but the resemblance was still strong. “I thought we were leaving this morning.”

“So did I,” Park admitted.

“Did Colonel Theoday ask you to stay?” Marisea inquired.

“He did,” Park admitted. “He wasn’t wrong, however. We do have to inspect the runways on a regular basis.”

“We already do,” Marisea pointed out. “He’s just trying to keep you in town again. He does it every year, You know that.”

“It’s just one day,” Park replied.

“And tomorrow he’ll ask you to inspect the sewers, no doubt or the water treatment plant or the power station,” Marisea predicted sternly. Park noticed a strong resemblance between the Mer and his wife just then. “I’m going to give that man a piece of my mind!”

“Wait!” Park tried to call her back, but she had already driven off back down the runway.

“I don’t much envy the colonel,” one of the men commented.

“It’s going to rebound on me, Terry,” Park shook his head. “The problem is, Marisea is right. Arn hates it when I go on these explorations and am out of radio range.”

“Are you kidding?” Terry laughed. “With those satellites there is no place truly out of radio range anywhere on Pangaea.”

“Arn doesn’t know that because I turn off the radio as soon as I’m a hundred miles away or so,” Park chuckled. “If I left it on he would be calling me back to base every time we caught a neomouse in one of the buildings. Oh well, no help for that now. Let’s get back to work. Is that a crack over there?”

“That’s the same seam you spotted on the way out, Park,” Terry laughed. “Tell you what though.” He took out a can of fluorescent orange paint and sprayed a small circle on the pavement. “We’ll do a test bore here, just in case.”

“You don’t have to humor me, Terry,” Park told him. “I’m not Arn.”

“No, sir,” Terry shook his head. “But we have to check somewhere and that’s as good a place as any.”

They continued on, but half an hour later, the torc around Park’s neck chimed to indicate an incoming call. “Hello?” he asked automatically. A holographic imaged formed in front of him, but it was barely visible in the bright sunlight. It could have been anyone.

“Park, what are you doing out there?” a familiar voice asked him. Park had been expecting an aggrieved call from Arn, but instead the voice on the other side was that of Ambassador Dannet of Dennsee. “You’re supposed to be on vacation.”

“No fooling,” Park laughed mirthlessly. He looked at the pale holograph and decided that maybe the image had green skin. It was hard to tell. “Well, since I’m still in town, what can I do for you today?”

“I have just been informed I have an urgent mission in some place called Alaska,” Dannet replied “And was hoping I could… um… is the expression ‘hitch up a lift?’”

“Close enough,” Park admitted. “I thought Marisea was going to shout at Arn for a bit. She changed her mind?”

“She changed mine,” Dennet laughed. “As ambassadorial posts go, this one is fairly quiet. Not only can I take a vacation every once in a while, but it is not a bad idea to tour the planet now and then.”

“That sort of tour generally implies you are out meeting native dignitaries,” Park shot back, “but you’re certainly welcome to join us.”

“Great!” Dannet told him. “I can be packed in an hour or so.”

“I have to finish this spaceport inspection,” Park warned him.

“And the ambassador of Dennsee absolutely must be on his way before dinner,” Dannet retorted.

Park’s torc chimed again. “Hold on,” he told Dannet. “Hello?” A second holograph appeared. Park was certain the predominant color was orange. “Hello, Sartena,” he greeted the only other ambassador in Van Winkle Town.

“Park, why are you still in town?” the orange woman asked seriously. Sartena had been the navigator on one of the Alliance ships stations on Luna. It had been the first victim of a visible light phaser, but Sartena had been one of the survivors rescued by the humans and Mer following the battle. Subsequently she had been appointed as the ambassador from her home world, Tzantza. “You’re supposed to be on vacation.”