Gestures, part 1
Oct. 16th, 2012 03:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
frogs_of_warThis is what has kept me busy for a while. Well this and three short story that aren't quite what I want them to be. Whoever said that writing is the hard part must never have needed to edit.
Title: Gestures
Status: Part 1 of 10
Genre: science fiction, romance, slash
Rating: PG (13?)
Content: fresh air, bright sun, Gage, Miss Prim, food, exercise, sleep, a brush with the past, and a quick exit.
Length: about 3,500 words
Summary: Colton, interplanetary courier, gets a new assignment close to his heart.
Masterlist
Colt pulled off his helmet and gloves and ran his hand through his hair. Space was wonderful, but planet-side fresh air was always welcome. He waved a stevedore away. “I’ve got this.”
Colt popped opened the trunk that lay in the small hold of his planet skipper and fished out the messenger bag. The fist sized box inside was his cargo. His job was to carry it from the home office on Deresla III to the offices on Caberon IV. Colt was mostly an interplanetary courier. No matter how fast communication could travel, some things had to be shipped by hand. His interstellar trip was costing the clients big-time, but not as much as sending one of their own people aboard a cruise liner to get the package. With this trip Colt would pay off his little skipper.
Colt closed up his skipper and headed toward the port authority. Here, like everywhere he touched down, papers had to be signed. This part of Caberon IV was hot and dry but a nice wind blew through his hair. It smelled like cut grass and exhaust and a tad like the ocean which was over a hundred miles away. Salt maybe. Colt took another deep breath. Non-recycled air.
Colt had never been to Caberon IV, or Esteroth as the welcome signs called it, but this port layout was much like the ones on Caberon II and VII. He waited in line to show his paper and then headed for town. Some planets allowed him to park his skipper in the office lot, but Caberon IV had rules against vehicles flying under a thousand feet. He was lucky that they didn’t make everyone ride in horses and buggies. He’d been to a planet like that. Never again.
“Colton Nash?”
Colt turned around. A well dressed couple hurried toward him.
“That’s for us,” the woman said in careful Trade. She held her arm out to the bag.
“Sorry.” Colt pulled the bag closer to his side. “Items only exchange hands at the office. This is for your protection as well as mine.”
“But,” the woman teared up. The man put his hand on her shoulder and murmured soothing words in the local dialect. Colt pretended he couldn’t understand. The man took the woman’s hand and said that it wouldn’t be long. He looked up at Colt. “May we offer you a ride?”
“Sorry, sir, but that’s against policy.”
The man nodded and led the woman away. Colt sighed. His flight suit marked him as a skipper pilot and the badge on his shoulder said who he worked for, but the agency had better stop giving out his name and arrival time. This was getting ridiculous. He slowed down as he reached the doors. Now where was the company car? He spotted it in the nearest parking spot.
The sun was blinding after the dim building and he stopped to let his eyes adjust. A bus load of tourists pulled up in front of him and tourists poured out. By the time he got to the car he was sweating. He recognized the man inside. “Gage? I didn’t know you were here.”
Gage turned up the air conditioning. He was a pilot too, but his craft was for items bigger than two square meters. Sometimes he even carried people. Colt had carried a coffin once and plants and an animal or two, but no living, breathing people.
“I’m between jobs,” said Gage. “And I’m courting Miss Prissy.”
Colt laughed. “Don’t let Amaryllis hear you call her that.”
“Oh, she knows what I think of her. I’m going to hang around for a while and wear her down.”
Better Gage than Colt. “She’ll just find you another job.”
“Yeah,” Gage grinned. “A good job, worth my tremendous skills.”
Colt looked out the side window so Gage couldn’t see his smile. The Agency office building here took up an entire city block. Gage pulled into the parking garage beneath it. “It’s nice to be out of the sun.”
“I kind of like the sun,” said Colt.
“Good,” said Gage. “That will make your next assignment easier.”
“You know what it is?” That wasn’t fair.
“I know what it might be. The Ice Princess let something slip.”
Colt pressed his lips together. He wasn’t going to ask. He didn’t want to owe Gage a favor. Gage jumped out of the car as soon as he parked and ran toward someone Colt didn’t know. Gage knew everyone.
—
The elevator took Colt right to the top floor offices. The secretary waved him through. Amaryllis Robertson looked up from her computer. She was on the phone, soothing someone. Colt didn’t know how she did it. He was glad dealing with clients wasn’t part of his job. He sat down in one of her super cushioned chairs, dug the box out of his bag, and set it on her desk.
Amaryllis said her goodbyes and hung up the phone. “Any troubles? Besides the clients at the port?”
“They knew my name.”
“Of course they did.” Amaryllis lived up to her nicknames. “They asked for you.”
Colt closed his eyes and leaned back in his comfortable chair. The Agency took a lot of cases that were more than just moving people or things around, but Colt hadn’t become a courier for notoriety. This job gave him freedom to travel and enough money to keep a roof over his mother’s head and his little sister in clothes she’d just die without. He didn’t want his name splashed everywhere. He’d had enough of that the first time.
“Colt, you’re tired. Go rest.”
He got up and left without correcting her. Staff dorms were on the second floor. He found an empty one, changed into the sport clothes provided, and sent his flight suit to be cleaned. Forced immobility during his four day trip had made him antsy. He needed to stretch his muscles and then eat a meal of real food. Skippers were quick and dirty, which meant that although he could travel at almost twice the speed of crafts that carry passengers, he was pretty much strapped in with meals of mash and only a tube to relieve himself. Most of his trips were short enough that he didn’t have to bother with either.
Colt joined a game in the gym. His side lost, but only by one point. He showered and followed the group to the cafeteria for dinner. He didn’t know anyone, but his talent with languages bridged any gap. Once his belly was full all he wanted to do was stretch out on a flat surface and sleep. He made his excuses and headed back to his room, where he fell asleep as soon as he lay down.
The sky was still dark when he woke up. The clock by the bed said three in the morning, local time. He had slept for ten hours. His body was stiff and empty. The cafeteria wasn’t officially opened yet, but one of the bakers gave Colt some coffee and a pastry. After he ate, he went to the empty gym. He worked out on some of the machines and then found the way outside and ran though the city streets. What was the point in going to a new place if he never saw it?
Most of the blocks were filled with two and three story buildings. None of the building precisely matched, but they went well together. The streets were numbered one way and letter the other. He took a wrong turn on his way back when he forgot the order of the local alphabet, but the extra exercise was good for him. The city smelled different before dawn and the birds called out their presence. Once the sun appeared so did the cars.
Colt went back to his room. His flight suit was clean and ready for him. He showered before heading down to a huge breakfast. He would be lifting off as soon as he spoke to Amaryllis again whether she had a new job for him or not.
Gage sat down beside him. “She tell you where you’re going?”
Colt shook his head. “What are you doing up so early?”
Gage laughed. “You have to get up pretty early to get one up on the Ice Princess.”
“And have you?”
Gage grinned. “Ever hear of Orion Santiago?”
Colt’s heart stopped beating. He took a deep breath to get a hold of himself.
“You have, haven’t you?” Gage looked at him expectantly.
Colt shook his head. “Not in the last few years.”
“But who is he?”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“I look over her shoulder when I stopped by to bug her last night. Tell me and I’ll owe you one.”
Gage could simply look Orion up at the nearest terminal, but that might give away that he knew. Amaryllis wouldn’t like that.
“Orion Santiago is... was one of the brightest young inventors of our age. He won the Asher prize at fifteen, the Gable prize at sixteen, and the Goudenhimer prize for Young Minds at seventeen.”
“Famous?”
Colt shrugged. “Among scientists.”
“And at eighteen?”
“At eighteen he disappeared.”
“Oh, sounds like a story.”
“It was.”
Gage looked toward the door. “I’ve got to go. Don’t tell her I told you.”
Colt nodded and closed his eyes.
“Mr. Nash?”
Colt looked behind him. A man dressed like office staff held out a note. Colt hated when people older than him called him mister. The guy was at least twenty-five. Colt took the note, but the man didn’t leave. Colt tried not to roll his eyes. The note said Amaryllis expected him in her office at nine local time. “I’ll be there.”
“Very good, sir.”
Colt leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Maybe he had time for a nap. But maybe he didn’t. He wouldn’t sleep with Orion on his mind.
—
Orion. Orion Santiago. Back when Colt’s father was alive and the family had money for such things, Colt had owned a chemistry set and followed all the latest news about science and scientists. Colt, like every young scientist, had a picture of Albert Einstein and one of Phillip W Goudenhimer, but his walls had been covered with posters of Orion Santiago. Some people were smart and some were beautiful, but Colt had never heard of any other person who was both to Orion’s degree.
Colt had lived and breathed Orion all his thirteenth year. He’d woken up at two am to watch the Goudenhimer awards streamed live. Colt had been very happy to watch Orion, his still pictures didn’t do him justice, but the host of the award show kept leaving his hand on Orion’s hand or shoulder too long or touching Orion’s hip. At first Colt had been angry. He’d yelled at the TV as loud as he’d dared, but then Colt had noticed that Orion was not upset at the old man’s attention. Maybe Orion had looked up to that scientist, maybe he liked to be touched. Colt had finished watching the program though tear-stained eyes. His heart was broken. Orion wasn’t his and would never be.
As the sun rose, he’d sobbed into his pillow. He would take down all the posters and give his chemistry set away. They were too painful to even look at. But when he’d opened his eyes he found he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
A few months later Colt’s father died and his mother moved back to the planet she was born on. Furniture was too expensive to ship, so they’d sold all their belongings before they left. Colt’s mother promised him new posters, but he hadn’t held her to it. He was the man of the house. He wanted to get a job to help out, but his mother insisted he concentrate on school.
In his new school he turned from science to languages and found he had a gift. He tried to forget Orion and the Goudenhimer Awards and every scientist that ever existed, especially that dirty old man awards’ host.
And it might have worked except his uncle remembered Colt’s old crush on Orion and took him off planet to see an artist that worked in porcelain. Orion had ordered a tea pot from him with special cut outs that didn’t show until pushed on. The product had already been shipped, but the artist gave Colt a tour and showed him pictures of the finished item.
The Awards show came around again, this time early morning local time, and Colt tossed and turned in his bed. Finally he got up. He was just going to watch for a moment. He needed to see Orion’s face one last time, but Orion was nowhere in sight. That host was pawing at a different boy, who won for a fusion reactor in a tea pot.
…In a tea pot that looked just like the one Colt’s uncle’s artist friend had made. The on and off switch was even in the same spot. Colt couldn’t go back to sleep. His stomach ached and his head was fuzzy. That other boy won Orion’s prize. That was just not right.
Colt’s mother felt his head when he got home from school and sent him straight to bed, so it wasn’t until the next evening that he found out Orion had disappeared. Orion’s family offered a huge reward and every night the news was filled with rumors and purported sightings. Colt read, watched, and listened to everything he could but not one of them mentioned that Orion’s prize was stolen from him.
The next awards day came and went with no news about Orion. Colt wanted to help, but his mother didn’t want him involved. Orion was out there somewhere hurt and alone. He wouldn’t return until the universe knew that that teapot was his.
When Colt’s uncle came back from his business trip, Colt showed him the awards program. He agreed that the tea pot looked similar and he called his artist friend. No, the artist hadn’t made a tea pot for the other boy. He told Colt that the artist signature was always on the bottom. Colt’s uncle said it was up to Colt to decide what to do with the information.
—
A group of noisy people came into the cafeteria. Colt looked at the clock. He had five minutes. He took a swig of cold coffee and got to his feet. He was on time, barely, but that didn’t keep the guy in the office from frowning at him as Colt was ushered into Amaryllis’s office. She wasn’t alone. A familiar, well dressed man held out his hand to Colt. “Colton Nash? Duncan Duevet. I represent the Santiago family.”
Colton nodded, side stepped the man, and sank into one of the chairs. He didn’t feel comfortable shaking hands. People from places where hand shaking was the norm could never understand why people from places where it wasn’t didn’t like to do it. The man dropped his hand and took the other chair. Colt wouldn’t have wanted to shake his particular man’s hand anyway.
“As you might recall,” said Mr. Duevet. He cleared his throat. “Mr. Santiago has been missing for five years.”
“Five years, eight months, and three days Universal Time,” said Colton before Amaryllis could. She always liked things precise.
“Yes,” said Mr. Duevet slowly. This meeting was going to take all day.
“Mr. Duevet has brought us some new information.” Amaryllis took over. “The family now thinks that Orion Santiago might be on Deresla II.”
Colt leaned back in his chair. “And why hasn’t the family gone and got him?”
“As you might recall Deresla II,” Mr. Duevet cleared his throat again, “is a very primitive planet.”
That was an understatement. When the first colonist had arrived, they had gone native: as in caveman. “Yes, and?”
“Mr. Duevet has hired us to get Orion.”
Colt closed his eyes. “And?”
“And the Santiagos wants you to do it,” Amaryllis said in a tone that conveyed that looking bored was not allowed while entertaining a client.
Colt propped an eye open. “Why?”
“The family feels,” Mr. Duevet said, “that you are their best hope.”
“Why?”
Amaryllis straightened her desk in a way that said her temper was shortening. Gage would have recommended slipping out before the meeting was over. Would Colt get the chance?
“The family feels,” Mr. Duevet cleared his throat.
“Well, what if I don’t feel like it?”
“We can make it,” Mr. Duevet gulped, “worth your while.”
Colt sat up. “Like you did last time?”
“Colton!”
“The family is very sorry—”
“I’m sure they are,” said Colt.
“... to have treated you like that. But this time—”
“There will be no this time.”
“...you will be paid for your work.”
“You aren’t listening.” Colt turned to Amaryllis. “He isn’t listening. I feel like I’m talking to a wall. Why am I even here?”
Colt got to his feet and strode out. His went to his room to get his bag. A note from the port said his skipper was ready for takeoff whenever he was. Perfect timing. He went out the front door. He could wave a cab down or better yet... Gage was driving by. Gage pulled over at his wave. “Need a ride?”
“Are you sure you want to? Amaryllis is mad at me.”
Gage grinned and waved Colt into the car. “Spill.”
Colt did. Gage laughed. “Miss Prissy, poor girl.”
“You feel sorry for her?”
“No,” said Gage, “but she’s too easy on super rich clients. They’ll take advantage of her.”
“As long as they aren’t taking advantage of me.”
“That happened?”
“The first time I met the Santiagos, they were offering a huge reward for information about their son.”
“You had it and they didn’t pay you?”
“I didn’t know where he was, but I knew that he wasn’t kidnapped. He’d left on his own. I even knew why. I didn’t expect to get paid. I didn’t even want to get paid.” Colt had just wanted Orion returned safe and sound.
“Although you won’t have turned it down.”
“True, but I didn’t expect to be sworn at, by an old lady in pearls no less. I was just a kid.”
“You still are a kid.”
Colt rolled his eyes. “Just because I’m not an old man...”
“Who you calling old? I’ve got what? Five years on you?”
“Old, old, old.”
Gage laughed. He pulled up in front of the port and leaned on the steering wheel. “See you soon, my friend.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because Little Miss Prim is going to follow you home and dog you until you take this job and I’m going to follow and hound her until she goes out with me. Maybe I can convince her to let me fly her over.”
“You wish.” Colt laughed and waved good bye.
The port authority tried to stop Colt, but he pulled out his get out of jail free card in the form of a letter from Mr. Robertson saying that Colton Nash was not to be detained for any reason. A company car pulled up as Colt’s skipper took to the air. Amaryllis was probably mad at him. She said she thought of him like a little brother.
Well, he did much worse things to his real sister.
—
Colt washed his skipper with the garden hose. His mother was in the house baking bread. He could hear her slightly off-key singing over the radio. Ava sat in the skipper’s seat with her fingers in her ears. “Does she really have to do that?”
Colt glanced toward the house. “She’s not trying to embarrass you.”
“She might not be trying, but she is succeeding.” Ava closed her eyes. “That was my favorite song.”
Colt laughed. Ava glared at him. “You are supposed to be on my side. Dad would have been on my side.”
“Dad,” said Colt, “would have been singing right along with her.”
“No, he wouldn’t.”
“You just don’t remember him.”
Ava crawled out of the skipper and turned to the house. “Mom, Colt being mean to me.”
“She can’t hear you.”
But the music in the house got quieter.
Ava flounced toward the door. “You’ll see.”
Colt’s mother step outside. “Colton, it’s work, dear. And I thought you were getting the whole week off.”
Colt turned off the water at the facet and went inside. He picked up the phone. It was Gage. “Just a heads up. She’s back and she’s on a war path.”
“And I’m off until Monday with Mr. Roberts’s permission.”
“Ooh, you went over her head.”
“My mother did. She told him it was time I took a vacation.”
“Can I have you mother? Please, just for a week.”
“Sorry. No.”
Gage laughed. “See you Monday.”
“See you.” Between now and then Colt needed to finish the refresher course on basic Deresla. The inhabitants of Deresla III spoke a dialect that was so simple it was complex. Colt had always planned on taking the job, but he’d wanted the Santiagos—and Amaryllis—to sweat for a while.
Title: Gestures
Status: Part 1 of 10
Genre: science fiction, romance, slash
Rating: PG (13?)
Content: fresh air, bright sun, Gage, Miss Prim, food, exercise, sleep, a brush with the past, and a quick exit.
Length: about 3,500 words
Summary: Colton, interplanetary courier, gets a new assignment close to his heart.
Masterlist
Colt pulled off his helmet and gloves and ran his hand through his hair. Space was wonderful, but planet-side fresh air was always welcome. He waved a stevedore away. “I’ve got this.”
Colt popped opened the trunk that lay in the small hold of his planet skipper and fished out the messenger bag. The fist sized box inside was his cargo. His job was to carry it from the home office on Deresla III to the offices on Caberon IV. Colt was mostly an interplanetary courier. No matter how fast communication could travel, some things had to be shipped by hand. His interstellar trip was costing the clients big-time, but not as much as sending one of their own people aboard a cruise liner to get the package. With this trip Colt would pay off his little skipper.
Colt closed up his skipper and headed toward the port authority. Here, like everywhere he touched down, papers had to be signed. This part of Caberon IV was hot and dry but a nice wind blew through his hair. It smelled like cut grass and exhaust and a tad like the ocean which was over a hundred miles away. Salt maybe. Colt took another deep breath. Non-recycled air.
Colt had never been to Caberon IV, or Esteroth as the welcome signs called it, but this port layout was much like the ones on Caberon II and VII. He waited in line to show his paper and then headed for town. Some planets allowed him to park his skipper in the office lot, but Caberon IV had rules against vehicles flying under a thousand feet. He was lucky that they didn’t make everyone ride in horses and buggies. He’d been to a planet like that. Never again.
“Colton Nash?”
Colt turned around. A well dressed couple hurried toward him.
“That’s for us,” the woman said in careful Trade. She held her arm out to the bag.
“Sorry.” Colt pulled the bag closer to his side. “Items only exchange hands at the office. This is for your protection as well as mine.”
“But,” the woman teared up. The man put his hand on her shoulder and murmured soothing words in the local dialect. Colt pretended he couldn’t understand. The man took the woman’s hand and said that it wouldn’t be long. He looked up at Colt. “May we offer you a ride?”
“Sorry, sir, but that’s against policy.”
The man nodded and led the woman away. Colt sighed. His flight suit marked him as a skipper pilot and the badge on his shoulder said who he worked for, but the agency had better stop giving out his name and arrival time. This was getting ridiculous. He slowed down as he reached the doors. Now where was the company car? He spotted it in the nearest parking spot.
The sun was blinding after the dim building and he stopped to let his eyes adjust. A bus load of tourists pulled up in front of him and tourists poured out. By the time he got to the car he was sweating. He recognized the man inside. “Gage? I didn’t know you were here.”
Gage turned up the air conditioning. He was a pilot too, but his craft was for items bigger than two square meters. Sometimes he even carried people. Colt had carried a coffin once and plants and an animal or two, but no living, breathing people.
“I’m between jobs,” said Gage. “And I’m courting Miss Prissy.”
Colt laughed. “Don’t let Amaryllis hear you call her that.”
“Oh, she knows what I think of her. I’m going to hang around for a while and wear her down.”
Better Gage than Colt. “She’ll just find you another job.”
“Yeah,” Gage grinned. “A good job, worth my tremendous skills.”
Colt looked out the side window so Gage couldn’t see his smile. The Agency office building here took up an entire city block. Gage pulled into the parking garage beneath it. “It’s nice to be out of the sun.”
“I kind of like the sun,” said Colt.
“Good,” said Gage. “That will make your next assignment easier.”
“You know what it is?” That wasn’t fair.
“I know what it might be. The Ice Princess let something slip.”
Colt pressed his lips together. He wasn’t going to ask. He didn’t want to owe Gage a favor. Gage jumped out of the car as soon as he parked and ran toward someone Colt didn’t know. Gage knew everyone.
—
The elevator took Colt right to the top floor offices. The secretary waved him through. Amaryllis Robertson looked up from her computer. She was on the phone, soothing someone. Colt didn’t know how she did it. He was glad dealing with clients wasn’t part of his job. He sat down in one of her super cushioned chairs, dug the box out of his bag, and set it on her desk.
Amaryllis said her goodbyes and hung up the phone. “Any troubles? Besides the clients at the port?”
“They knew my name.”
“Of course they did.” Amaryllis lived up to her nicknames. “They asked for you.”
Colt closed his eyes and leaned back in his comfortable chair. The Agency took a lot of cases that were more than just moving people or things around, but Colt hadn’t become a courier for notoriety. This job gave him freedom to travel and enough money to keep a roof over his mother’s head and his little sister in clothes she’d just die without. He didn’t want his name splashed everywhere. He’d had enough of that the first time.
“Colt, you’re tired. Go rest.”
He got up and left without correcting her. Staff dorms were on the second floor. He found an empty one, changed into the sport clothes provided, and sent his flight suit to be cleaned. Forced immobility during his four day trip had made him antsy. He needed to stretch his muscles and then eat a meal of real food. Skippers were quick and dirty, which meant that although he could travel at almost twice the speed of crafts that carry passengers, he was pretty much strapped in with meals of mash and only a tube to relieve himself. Most of his trips were short enough that he didn’t have to bother with either.
Colt joined a game in the gym. His side lost, but only by one point. He showered and followed the group to the cafeteria for dinner. He didn’t know anyone, but his talent with languages bridged any gap. Once his belly was full all he wanted to do was stretch out on a flat surface and sleep. He made his excuses and headed back to his room, where he fell asleep as soon as he lay down.
The sky was still dark when he woke up. The clock by the bed said three in the morning, local time. He had slept for ten hours. His body was stiff and empty. The cafeteria wasn’t officially opened yet, but one of the bakers gave Colt some coffee and a pastry. After he ate, he went to the empty gym. He worked out on some of the machines and then found the way outside and ran though the city streets. What was the point in going to a new place if he never saw it?
Most of the blocks were filled with two and three story buildings. None of the building precisely matched, but they went well together. The streets were numbered one way and letter the other. He took a wrong turn on his way back when he forgot the order of the local alphabet, but the extra exercise was good for him. The city smelled different before dawn and the birds called out their presence. Once the sun appeared so did the cars.
Colt went back to his room. His flight suit was clean and ready for him. He showered before heading down to a huge breakfast. He would be lifting off as soon as he spoke to Amaryllis again whether she had a new job for him or not.
Gage sat down beside him. “She tell you where you’re going?”
Colt shook his head. “What are you doing up so early?”
Gage laughed. “You have to get up pretty early to get one up on the Ice Princess.”
“And have you?”
Gage grinned. “Ever hear of Orion Santiago?”
Colt’s heart stopped beating. He took a deep breath to get a hold of himself.
“You have, haven’t you?” Gage looked at him expectantly.
Colt shook his head. “Not in the last few years.”
“But who is he?”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“I look over her shoulder when I stopped by to bug her last night. Tell me and I’ll owe you one.”
Gage could simply look Orion up at the nearest terminal, but that might give away that he knew. Amaryllis wouldn’t like that.
“Orion Santiago is... was one of the brightest young inventors of our age. He won the Asher prize at fifteen, the Gable prize at sixteen, and the Goudenhimer prize for Young Minds at seventeen.”
“Famous?”
Colt shrugged. “Among scientists.”
“And at eighteen?”
“At eighteen he disappeared.”
“Oh, sounds like a story.”
“It was.”
Gage looked toward the door. “I’ve got to go. Don’t tell her I told you.”
Colt nodded and closed his eyes.
“Mr. Nash?”
Colt looked behind him. A man dressed like office staff held out a note. Colt hated when people older than him called him mister. The guy was at least twenty-five. Colt took the note, but the man didn’t leave. Colt tried not to roll his eyes. The note said Amaryllis expected him in her office at nine local time. “I’ll be there.”
“Very good, sir.”
Colt leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Maybe he had time for a nap. But maybe he didn’t. He wouldn’t sleep with Orion on his mind.
—
Orion. Orion Santiago. Back when Colt’s father was alive and the family had money for such things, Colt had owned a chemistry set and followed all the latest news about science and scientists. Colt, like every young scientist, had a picture of Albert Einstein and one of Phillip W Goudenhimer, but his walls had been covered with posters of Orion Santiago. Some people were smart and some were beautiful, but Colt had never heard of any other person who was both to Orion’s degree.
Colt had lived and breathed Orion all his thirteenth year. He’d woken up at two am to watch the Goudenhimer awards streamed live. Colt had been very happy to watch Orion, his still pictures didn’t do him justice, but the host of the award show kept leaving his hand on Orion’s hand or shoulder too long or touching Orion’s hip. At first Colt had been angry. He’d yelled at the TV as loud as he’d dared, but then Colt had noticed that Orion was not upset at the old man’s attention. Maybe Orion had looked up to that scientist, maybe he liked to be touched. Colt had finished watching the program though tear-stained eyes. His heart was broken. Orion wasn’t his and would never be.
As the sun rose, he’d sobbed into his pillow. He would take down all the posters and give his chemistry set away. They were too painful to even look at. But when he’d opened his eyes he found he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
A few months later Colt’s father died and his mother moved back to the planet she was born on. Furniture was too expensive to ship, so they’d sold all their belongings before they left. Colt’s mother promised him new posters, but he hadn’t held her to it. He was the man of the house. He wanted to get a job to help out, but his mother insisted he concentrate on school.
In his new school he turned from science to languages and found he had a gift. He tried to forget Orion and the Goudenhimer Awards and every scientist that ever existed, especially that dirty old man awards’ host.
And it might have worked except his uncle remembered Colt’s old crush on Orion and took him off planet to see an artist that worked in porcelain. Orion had ordered a tea pot from him with special cut outs that didn’t show until pushed on. The product had already been shipped, but the artist gave Colt a tour and showed him pictures of the finished item.
The Awards show came around again, this time early morning local time, and Colt tossed and turned in his bed. Finally he got up. He was just going to watch for a moment. He needed to see Orion’s face one last time, but Orion was nowhere in sight. That host was pawing at a different boy, who won for a fusion reactor in a tea pot.
…In a tea pot that looked just like the one Colt’s uncle’s artist friend had made. The on and off switch was even in the same spot. Colt couldn’t go back to sleep. His stomach ached and his head was fuzzy. That other boy won Orion’s prize. That was just not right.
Colt’s mother felt his head when he got home from school and sent him straight to bed, so it wasn’t until the next evening that he found out Orion had disappeared. Orion’s family offered a huge reward and every night the news was filled with rumors and purported sightings. Colt read, watched, and listened to everything he could but not one of them mentioned that Orion’s prize was stolen from him.
The next awards day came and went with no news about Orion. Colt wanted to help, but his mother didn’t want him involved. Orion was out there somewhere hurt and alone. He wouldn’t return until the universe knew that that teapot was his.
When Colt’s uncle came back from his business trip, Colt showed him the awards program. He agreed that the tea pot looked similar and he called his artist friend. No, the artist hadn’t made a tea pot for the other boy. He told Colt that the artist signature was always on the bottom. Colt’s uncle said it was up to Colt to decide what to do with the information.
—
A group of noisy people came into the cafeteria. Colt looked at the clock. He had five minutes. He took a swig of cold coffee and got to his feet. He was on time, barely, but that didn’t keep the guy in the office from frowning at him as Colt was ushered into Amaryllis’s office. She wasn’t alone. A familiar, well dressed man held out his hand to Colt. “Colton Nash? Duncan Duevet. I represent the Santiago family.”
Colton nodded, side stepped the man, and sank into one of the chairs. He didn’t feel comfortable shaking hands. People from places where hand shaking was the norm could never understand why people from places where it wasn’t didn’t like to do it. The man dropped his hand and took the other chair. Colt wouldn’t have wanted to shake his particular man’s hand anyway.
“As you might recall,” said Mr. Duevet. He cleared his throat. “Mr. Santiago has been missing for five years.”
“Five years, eight months, and three days Universal Time,” said Colton before Amaryllis could. She always liked things precise.
“Yes,” said Mr. Duevet slowly. This meeting was going to take all day.
“Mr. Duevet has brought us some new information.” Amaryllis took over. “The family now thinks that Orion Santiago might be on Deresla II.”
Colt leaned back in his chair. “And why hasn’t the family gone and got him?”
“As you might recall Deresla II,” Mr. Duevet cleared his throat again, “is a very primitive planet.”
That was an understatement. When the first colonist had arrived, they had gone native: as in caveman. “Yes, and?”
“Mr. Duevet has hired us to get Orion.”
Colt closed his eyes. “And?”
“And the Santiagos wants you to do it,” Amaryllis said in a tone that conveyed that looking bored was not allowed while entertaining a client.
Colt propped an eye open. “Why?”
“The family feels,” Mr. Duevet said, “that you are their best hope.”
“Why?”
Amaryllis straightened her desk in a way that said her temper was shortening. Gage would have recommended slipping out before the meeting was over. Would Colt get the chance?
“The family feels,” Mr. Duevet cleared his throat.
“Well, what if I don’t feel like it?”
“We can make it,” Mr. Duevet gulped, “worth your while.”
Colt sat up. “Like you did last time?”
“Colton!”
“The family is very sorry—”
“I’m sure they are,” said Colt.
“... to have treated you like that. But this time—”
“There will be no this time.”
“...you will be paid for your work.”
“You aren’t listening.” Colt turned to Amaryllis. “He isn’t listening. I feel like I’m talking to a wall. Why am I even here?”
Colt got to his feet and strode out. His went to his room to get his bag. A note from the port said his skipper was ready for takeoff whenever he was. Perfect timing. He went out the front door. He could wave a cab down or better yet... Gage was driving by. Gage pulled over at his wave. “Need a ride?”
“Are you sure you want to? Amaryllis is mad at me.”
Gage grinned and waved Colt into the car. “Spill.”
Colt did. Gage laughed. “Miss Prissy, poor girl.”
“You feel sorry for her?”
“No,” said Gage, “but she’s too easy on super rich clients. They’ll take advantage of her.”
“As long as they aren’t taking advantage of me.”
“That happened?”
“The first time I met the Santiagos, they were offering a huge reward for information about their son.”
“You had it and they didn’t pay you?”
“I didn’t know where he was, but I knew that he wasn’t kidnapped. He’d left on his own. I even knew why. I didn’t expect to get paid. I didn’t even want to get paid.” Colt had just wanted Orion returned safe and sound.
“Although you won’t have turned it down.”
“True, but I didn’t expect to be sworn at, by an old lady in pearls no less. I was just a kid.”
“You still are a kid.”
Colt rolled his eyes. “Just because I’m not an old man...”
“Who you calling old? I’ve got what? Five years on you?”
“Old, old, old.”
Gage laughed. He pulled up in front of the port and leaned on the steering wheel. “See you soon, my friend.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because Little Miss Prim is going to follow you home and dog you until you take this job and I’m going to follow and hound her until she goes out with me. Maybe I can convince her to let me fly her over.”
“You wish.” Colt laughed and waved good bye.
The port authority tried to stop Colt, but he pulled out his get out of jail free card in the form of a letter from Mr. Robertson saying that Colton Nash was not to be detained for any reason. A company car pulled up as Colt’s skipper took to the air. Amaryllis was probably mad at him. She said she thought of him like a little brother.
Well, he did much worse things to his real sister.
—
Colt washed his skipper with the garden hose. His mother was in the house baking bread. He could hear her slightly off-key singing over the radio. Ava sat in the skipper’s seat with her fingers in her ears. “Does she really have to do that?”
Colt glanced toward the house. “She’s not trying to embarrass you.”
“She might not be trying, but she is succeeding.” Ava closed her eyes. “That was my favorite song.”
Colt laughed. Ava glared at him. “You are supposed to be on my side. Dad would have been on my side.”
“Dad,” said Colt, “would have been singing right along with her.”
“No, he wouldn’t.”
“You just don’t remember him.”
Ava crawled out of the skipper and turned to the house. “Mom, Colt being mean to me.”
“She can’t hear you.”
But the music in the house got quieter.
Ava flounced toward the door. “You’ll see.”
Colt’s mother step outside. “Colton, it’s work, dear. And I thought you were getting the whole week off.”
Colt turned off the water at the facet and went inside. He picked up the phone. It was Gage. “Just a heads up. She’s back and she’s on a war path.”
“And I’m off until Monday with Mr. Roberts’s permission.”
“Ooh, you went over her head.”
“My mother did. She told him it was time I took a vacation.”
“Can I have you mother? Please, just for a week.”
“Sorry. No.”
Gage laughed. “See you Monday.”
“See you.” Between now and then Colt needed to finish the refresher course on basic Deresla. The inhabitants of Deresla III spoke a dialect that was so simple it was complex. Colt had always planned on taking the job, but he’d wanted the Santiagos—and Amaryllis—to sweat for a while.
