T'aafhal Legacy 1: Ghosts of Orion (17 page)

Their cabin was not nearly as large as the Captain's, but it was still large and luxurious compared with accommodations on a Navy vessel. Intended as a guest suit when the Peggy Sue was fulfilling her original purpose as a wealthy man's yacht, the room had a king sized bed, rich wood paneling and the ultimate shipboard luxury, a private head and shower. Mizuki and Bobby had availed themselves of that luxury and were now relaxing in kimono-like robes prior to crawling into bed.

To Bobby, the silk man's kimono was just what the Japanese word said—a thing (
mono
) to wear (
ki
). For Mizuki, however, it was a link to her heritage and those she had lost forever when Earth was attacked. Simplified significantly for onboard use, her kimono was a far cry from the traditional Japanese formal garment. A typical woman's kimono often had twelve or more separate pieces, worn in prescribed ways. The cut and style of the various parts all carried meaning to traditional Japanese. 

“Well here we are, Mizuki-chan. Just you, me and the kids.”

Bobby's reference to “the kids” meant the flock of blue-green alien butterflies that shared their cabin. Since Billy Ray had jokingly referred to the butterflies as their children, both Bobby and Mizuki had taken to calling them that. Mizuki had become emotionally attached to them several years ago and they to her. Not true insects—the body segmentation was wrong as were the number of limbs—the butterfly like creatures seemed to posses a shared consciousness, each member of the flock linked to the others like a bevy of blue tooth devices. Mizuki had permitted enough testing of her pets to show that they were, collectively, more intelligent than a dog and maybe as smart as a dolphin.

She often sang to them in Japanese when they were alone together and on occasion they even beat their wings in synchrony to say a few word back. Several times in the past she had found dead individual butterflies. These she wept over and performed Buddhist funeral rights before cremating the remains. The flock hovered around her during these ceremonies and seemed to understand their meaning. That they sometimes acted as one being and as individuals on other occasions did not vex Mizuki. As a physicist she accepted the wave particle duality of photons; she accepted the alien butterflies on their own terms. 

Even though a score of the little aliens had perished over the years the flock had not grown smaller. Obviously they were reproducing, though Mizuki had no idea how the new butterflies were conceived, gestated or delivered. If anything, since the flock accepted Bobby as a part of their world, they seem to have grown in number.

“The children did not like it when we left them to go exploring the dead planet. I suspect they will be upset when we travel to the metal moon as well.”

“Yeah, but they get so excited when you return.”

“When we return, Bobby. I have seen them flock around you when you come home after a watch. I think they have adopted you as well.”

“I guess this is as close to a real family we will have until you decide to marry me.”

This last remark caused Mizuki to look away. Bobby had been courting her since the night in Tokyo when he rescued her from the yakuza. They had become a couple and began living together more than two years ago, yet for reasons that Bobby could not understand, Mizuki would not marry him.

“You know I love you, Bobby.”

“So why won't you marry me?” His voice carried an almost pleading tone. The butterflies scattered about the cabin began to display darker colors—indigo and purple—a sign of emotional distress.

“We have been over this before. I want to accomplish something important before I become your wife. Something that people will remember me for, other than just being the mother of your children.”

“What's wrong with being the mother of our children? That's what people do who fall in love, they get married and have children.” 

“I know that, Bobby. And there is nothing wrong with being the mother of your children—someday I want to be the mother of your children. But I feel I must first do something memorable, something noteworthy. For my family, and for Japan.”

“You have already traveled farther across the Galaxy than all but a few Earthlings. You explored the Ring Station, fought many battles and helped to save our home world from total destruction. Isn't that enough?”

“I was a member of the crew, not the leader. It will not be my name remembered in association with those deeds.”

“You want to be famous? Is that it?”

“No! Not like a rock star or an actor. I wish to be remembered for accomplishing something worthwhile. How can I explain? The goal of marriage in Japan is to meet social expectations and raise children. In my culture the woman sacrifices herself for her husband and her children. My family was so disappointed when I didn't come home from college with a husband, and were even more upset when I went to graduate school.”

Mizuki was close to tears and the flock of butterflies was flitting about the cabin in a state of high agitation. Bobby sat down on the bed next to her and hugged her. She buried her face in his shoulder. 

“Oh Mizuki, it's not that way anymore—you can have a career after we're married. I would never do anything to prevent you from being happy or from becoming the most famous sword fighting astrophysicist in the galaxy, if that is what you want.”

“Love and marriage are not the same thing. Most Japanese couples hardly sleep together after they have a child. The men have their careers and the women have their children. For women, their pleasure is supposed to come from raising a family. When they get bored, they just go shopping or do other things that housewives do—or have an affair. I don't want you to stop loving me, Bobby.”

“If you are afraid I will grow tired of you and stop wanting you if we get married that won't happen! I will never stop loving you, Mizuki. I want to grow old with you, and if you won't marry me I will take you this way—any way—as long as we are together.”

“I'm sorry Bobby. I do want to marry you, I just am not ready yet. Please understand.” She looked up with tear streaked cheeks and Bobby's heart broke.

“Hush now, I didn't mean to make you cry. Come, we need to get some sleep; it will be a busy day tomorrow.”

Without speaking further, the couple removed their gowns and climbed into bed. Mizuki snuggled inside Bobby's embrace. The emotional storm past, the butterflies settled down, alighting on perches around the room. They remained ever vigilant, however, protecting their goddess and her consort. 

Armory, Peggy Sue

“Why are we pulling extra duty, cleaning our armor after hours, Gunny?” asked Vinny DeSilva, as he took a wire brush to the overlapping small bands of metal-ceramic in his suit's left armpit. Though the suits had been decontaminated after use on the dead planet's surface there was still the possibility of fine contaminants in the armor's overlapping bands. 

“Because the Chief says we are getting close to rendezvousing with some kind of small moon that the science geeks find interesting. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the Captain will be sending a shuttle to take a closer look, and that means we'll be going along to keep the nerd squad safe.”

“All of us?” asked Dmitry Boskovitch, getting ready to strip and clean his railgun. “Why do we all have to go?”

“Because that's what the Captain wants, Bosco. If you haven't figured it out yet, Capt. Vincent is trying to get us as much training time as possible, just in case we do eventually come across some nastiness. So shut up and keep working.” 

“Ho ho! It looks like the jar heads have the same idea we do, Matt,” Steve Hitch announced as he and Jacobs entered the armory. “Getting everything shipshape so's not to be in a panic tomorrow morning when the Skipper sends us to take a gander at that moon Doc Ogawa is all excited about.”

“The swabbies have arrived,” commented Kato Kwan, “there goes the neighborhood.”

While it has been known for sailors and Marines to not get along, that was really not the case on the Peggy Sue. This was partly because the Chief and the Gunny wouldn't stand for it, but also because Hitch and Jacobs had fought alongside Kwan and Acuna on earlier missions. It didn't matter if you bled Navy blue or Marine green, if you passed the trial by fire you were one of the club.

“Good to know you two are thinking ahead, even if a bit slowly.” The Gunny grinned at the two petty officers as they began working on their own armored suits. “You hear any scuttlebutt about this moon the science types are so ga-ga over?”

“They way I hear it, the whole thing is like a giant sponge made out of metal,” Hitch provided.

“Yeah, Commander Danner thinks that the moon has been mined,” added Jacobs. There were few onboard activities sailors enjoyed more than spreading rumors.

“Cmdr. Danner believes a lot of nutty things,” scoffed Kato.

“That may be, but sometimes he's right,” said the Gunny, “and he's one hell of a pilot. If we are going to take a side trip to a funny moon I want Danner at the controls.”

“No argument there, Gunny. Hey Umky, what do you think?”

The squad's only polar bear was quietly working on his suit, listening to the humans babble. Of course he had a bigger job than the other Marines, since a bear's suit was much larger than a man's. Its ammo load was much bigger as well. 

“I think all you primates believe in kooky stuff,” Umky grunted. “But Danner seems OK to me. After all, Dr. Ogawa seems pretty attached to him, so he can't be totally crazy.”

“Right you are, Bear 2,” said Hitch. “Say, how are things going with your four-legged honey?” 

Umky snorted. “If you are referring to Doctor Ahnah the science bear, let's just say I'm looking forward to floating around an airless metal junk pile for a few days, just to get some peace and quiet.”

“I though you two weren't talking?”

“Not at first, Gunny. Now I'd pay to have her shut up.”

“Maybe she's succumbing to your he-bear charms,” said Hitch, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Keep it up, Hitch. I'm feeling a bit peckish.”

“That ain't gonna work, Umky. You should have heard all the times your Dad threatened to eat Stevie.”

The bear turned to look at Jacobs to see if he was joking. Matt looked back with an innocent expression and Umky made a woofing sound as he went back to cleaning his multi-barreled railgun. “So what's the ammo load for this little outing?”

“I'm thinking some of the DU armor-piercing,” Rosey replied. “Explosive stuff doesn't work so well in vacuum and we got a shitload of the solid stuff.”

“Handling uranium rounds gives me the willies,” said Vinny, “that crap is still radioactive. I heard some guys in Iraq got lung cancer from breathing in dust from expended rounds.”

“That's bullshit, Marine,” said Jacobs. “It's not the radiation, they even use DU shielding to contain dangerous radioactive materials. Most of the problem with DU is that uranium is a toxic metal. There have been reports of an elevated risk of birth defects with long-term exposure.” 

“That ain't a problem with Vinny. The woman ain't been born that would have his children.”

“Funny, Kato, funny.”

“Quit your complaining. After all, you're gonna be inside a space suit. No way to come in contact with any uranium, not unless you shoot yourself in the foot.” The Gunny paused in thought before continuing. “Maybe after we check the place out we can do a little live fire.”

“That would be great, Gunny,” said Umky, hefting his weapon. “I've never seen what full rated fire with DU rounds can do.”

“Just make sure I am behind you before you open up, da?” Bosco didn't care what the others said, the Russian Marine was still not totally comfortable arming polar bears with 15mm multi-barreled railguns firing depleted uranium slugs.

Chapter 11

Bridge, ESS Fortune

As usual, Captain Chakrabarti was alone on the bridge, all other members of the crew either making shuttle runs or off watch. Siddhartha, Sid to his friends, didn't mind the time spent alone. It gave him the opportunity to think about his wife, Amita, and their two children, back at the Farside Moon base. Once this mission was over he would be able to spend six months or more at home. Oh how he missed his wife's cooking—and her company.

Frank Hoenig, one of the shuttle pilots, had just entered Fortune's bridge. He was reporting in after a trip dirtside to deliver supplies and equipment to the settlers, in this case Brother Abraham's presumptively named town of Zion.

“Welcome back, Mr. Hoenig,” said Capt. Chakrabarti, “I trust you had an uneventful trip.” 

“Yeah, Captain, another in a series of uneventful trips. The most exciting thing was offloading the cows—they really didn't want to get off the shuttle.”

“Can you blame them?”

“Hey, I wouldn't want to be off loaded down there. Of the three groups, Brother Abraham's has got to be the strangest. There were no women or children in sight at all when we dropped off the supplies. We had a number of large bales of alfalfa for the animals and they wouldn't let us take it into their 'town' on float palates. Made us dump it just beyond the shuttle's repulsor field zone, saying they would carry it to the settlement. They have to be nuts to want to haul hay bales by hand in that gravity.”

“Perhaps it is best they become use to hard physical labor, they will soon be living like peasants from many centuries ago.”

“Yeah, I guess sleeping with farm animals, bathing once a year, and shitting in a bucket is a part of everyone's cultural heritage. I just wouldn't go back to those days voluntarily.”

The Captain shook his head. “We are not here to judge them, Mr. Hoenig, just to drop them off and get them started. How many more trips will be required?”

Hoenig scratched the back of his head with his right hand and appeared to concentrate on his answer before replying. “I think that was the last of the cattle, we still have to drop off the horses and another load of fodder. That means one more run to each of the settlements.”