An Interstellar Spring (Part 5): Before The Storm

 

By Nick Gibson

UST: May 5^th, 3569, 7:13 PM

Dear Journal: I must have read my friends message at least 3 times now. It’s now to the point where I could recite it from memory.

My Dear Friend Curtis,

News from the protest is hard to come by, even for those who share it’s plight. What has reached me is not good. Word is that all those involved have been jailed and possibly shipped out of town. Probably to that one facility up north that no one talks about but we all know exists. I did take the liberty of reaching out to your girls parents. Your lucky one of her cousins works here on planet with me. He told me she got picked up alongside the rest of them. No one has heard a word since.

Stay safe and please try not to do anything stupid,

Your friend Willie

It wasn’t much to go off of but it was enough. I knew exactly which facility Willie spoke of. It was an old army depot that had been abandoned for years but somehow was still active in the military register. It’s true purpose unknown to anyone but the highest of officials. Until now that is, now it seems to be serving as a make shift prison for political dissidents. That won’t play well at all with the wider public. I thought. Though I doubt they care at this point.

So I had a rough idea of where she could be. But how do I get there? That is the question. I sat there pondering. I had been fruitlessly thinking of a plan for a good 30 minutes, nothing of merit coming to me. My sceaming was interrupted by the sounds of a door closing followed up by the wailing of my mother. “You are not going to an active war zone!”

I gotta listen to this I thought. Opening my door a crack, I peeked my head out and looked downstairs. My mother was still in her dinner attire. My father on the other hand had switched out to a lounge jacket when him and the admiral retired to the study. “He want’s me to personally oversee the factory they are building over there.” My father roared, returning fire. “They knew the miners wouldn’t take getting displaced well. They miscalculated just how much!”

My mother tried to open her mouth to protest but my father threw his jacket at her, effectively shutting her up as he stormed off. “I leave in the morning. It’s all hands on deck now.”

Not wanting to have any of this. Plus she hated being out shown in the drama department. My mother stormed off herself. “I’m staying with my sister!” she screeched, slamming the door as hard as she could muster.

Now’s my chance I realized. Not wanted to let a good martial crisis go to waste, I rushed down stairs towards my fathers room. I barley got within five feet of the door when he said to me. “You heard that didn’t you? Of course you did. Come on in.”

Entering the room, I looked around. My father was already halfway packed. Now that he was away from his wife, I could tell the weight he was under was breaking him. “I want to come with you father.” I said before he had a chance to say anything else.

What I said caused him to stop what he was doing and look at me. He wasn’t expecting that. “Curtis, it’s dangerous.” he said with a sigh.

“You need my help. Now more than ever.” I replied. That would have been a lie before I entered but upon seeing him it became the number 2 reason I was doing this.

Looking me over, he could tell I was serious. “But your schooling…”

“Can wait.” I answered. “Besides, nothing is going to happen with what’s currently going on.”

Now out of reasons to say no he walked up at me. “Is this about her?” He asked me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Please be honest with me, my son.”

“Yes.” I said, putting my head down in shame. I didn’t have it in me to lie to him. “Mostly, anyway but yeah.”

My old man looked me over for a moment. “I never had the chance to fight for love.” He said, a certain warmth filling his eyes. “Everything was chosen for me from birth.” he then then typed out a messaged on his slate. Looking back at me, seemingly more energized than before. “I will not allow my son to be so shackled. We ride at dawn.”

He then shooed me out of his room. We both had a lot of packing to do.

Walking up the stairs, my mind reeling from what had just happened. My father had always been the cool one sure. But I never expected him to be so...human? It was at that moment I realized my parents were no different than I. Full of hopes, dreams, and most importantly...regret. He seems desperate to not repeat the sins of the father. I thought. Smiling, now even more grateful that I had at least one parent who seemed to give a damn. My mother being a lost cause, at least for the moment anyway.

What I did not know at the time. Something that would turn out to be my one big regret is that this would be my last peaceful nights rest for years to come. If I had known what I did now I certainly wouldn’t have stayed up half the night. Long past when I had already finished packing.

The path before me was going to be a rough one. But right now I lived excited, swimming in ignorant bliss. Oh how I yearn to reach back and slap that fool. Not for leaving, that was the smartest call I had ever made. But I wish I could go back and tell my father one thing and one thing only.

“I love you.”

An Interstellar Spring (Part 4): A Dinner For 3

 

By Nick Gibson

UST: May 5^th, 3569, 6:46 PM

Dear Journal: Just got back from dinner, man oh man was it a trip. When I got down there my mother introduced me to Rear Admiral Christopher Khan. A beast of a man who towered over me by a good half meter! When he went to shake my hand he did that thing all secretly insecure men do when they want to establish dominance over someone. Let me tell you, he crushed my hand so hard to was still throbbing 15 minutes later.

“Tell me good sir,” I said to him, giving him the ego fluffing he felt so entitled to, “To what do we owe the grace of your visit?” I knew better than to sass him. This wasn’t my first rodeo and it would be far from my last.

His back stood a little straighter upon hearing my perfectly prosed question. “Well young man.” He said, making sure to place emphasis on the word ‘young’. “With the Miners Uprising going on. The USC will need all the supplies it can get. This is where your father potentially comes in.”

“We are so happy to have someone of your...stature in our home.” My mother said to him. Gazing up lustfully at him before turning to me and shooting me a glare of utter contempt. The message was clear, ‘shut up and be the good boy’. I responded by flicking my eyes upward then silently taking my place at fathers side.

I mostly picked at the appetizer while my parents chatted up Khan. Nothing special was being said and nothing would be until after the deserts arrive. You see this was the pre-show, the time to set the stage with small talk and various pleasantries. The real show would begin once the main course arrived.

My mother wasted no time in putting the charm on the old Spacer. Wonder if she is going to sleep with this one to? I thought. Given the stakes, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised. “...and our son Curtis is currently on break from Sanhurst University. Tell him about your studies honey.”

Looking up in shock, I didn’t know exactly what to say. Certainly wasn’t expecting to be called upon so soon. “It’s going pretty good actually, made the Dean’s List for the 2^nd time in a row.”

This seemed to please our guest. Nodding in approval before turning his attention back to my mother. By this time more noise seemed to be coming from the kitchen. Indicating that the main act was about to begin.

With a flourish, 6 day servants, dressed in the finest threads a member of the Labor Caste could hope to don. Like the well oiled machine my mother trained them to be, they set down the food in front of each of us. Making sure to match the correct plate with the proper person. Last thing any of us wanted was for the Admiral to be Med-Evaced because some idiot put the only plate that did not contain the Halnut glaze onto my lap instead of his.

Just as quickly as they arrived, they were gone. They only had about 10 minutes to rest before beginning prep on the next course. My mother winked at the head day servant. He wasn’t really that good at his job. The only thing he excelled at was lay down his pipe. Something my mother never failed to utilize. Gods, I wish I talk to Molly. Be nice talk to someone who actually cares about me.

As we all dug in, the Admiral made a point to ask my father about the happenings of his company. You see, in this part of the meal, both sides ask gently propping questions about the other. The real negations wouldn’t begin till desert but now was the time to set the stage for the later battle of wits. “...We just completed the expansion of our Europa facility. Increasing out rate of production by a factor of 5!” My father said, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. That is, if he was actually trying to contain it.

Looking pleased, The Admiral took a bite of his duck. His face exploding with excitement. “Whose your chef?” He asked waved around his half eaten wing like it was some sort of trophy. “I might have to snatch them from you.”

Both my parents laughed as if he had told a hilarious joke. “That would be a tragedy but if you insist I can give you her details after the meal.” My mom said with a hand on the mans lap. Clearly not talking about food.

Satisfied they returned to their mutual interrogations. My part in this charade was pretty much done by this point. I finished up the rest of my meal in peace. “Mother, it has been a pleasure but I ask to retire.” I said with every courtesy I could muster.

She looked me up and down, trying to find a reason to keep me in my place. A glance from my father was all took to relinquish her hold on me. “Of course honey, we wouldn’t want to bore you with all the important adult stuff.”

Taking her condescending remarks on the chin, I got up from my seat and walked over to the Admiral. “Thanking you for gracing our home good sir” I said to him with a bow.

He waved me up with the same indifference he gave anyone below his station. “The pleasure is all mine. You were a great dinner guest. I hope we can dine again.” He replied to me. He didn’t really mean any of this, it was just what he was superposed to say.

My performance now finished, I dashed up the stairs as quickly as I could. Food was the last thing I could think about. Something else was on my mind.

That something was thankfully there to greet me when I returned to my room. The tablet alight displaying a notification, that being some new message. This one from my friend. The subject line only containing two words.

Found Molly...

An Interstellar Spring (Part 3): Letters of War

 

By Nick Gibson

UST: May 5^th, 3569, 4:28 PM

Dear Journal: Two days, it has been two days since I last heard from Molly. It took about a day after the uprising started for the news sites to catch on and when they did I was shocked by the larger than normal degree of distortion going on.

What to my own eyes looked like a protest gone horribly wrong, the news reported as a violent insurrection. Perpetuated by extremists who wanted nothing more than to tear down the regime the graciously protected them. Oh and they were bigots to so of course we had to hate them.

I tried to inform my parents of the true story. That went about as well as you would expect. My mother accepted the “official” story without hesitation. Being born into wealth, she never had to want for a thing any day in her life. The hardest task she ever had to do pretend to a “normal person” for the sake of appearances. Like most of her status, this usually meant phoning in support for whatever cause was trendy at the moment. Unfortunately, the plight of the common person was so last century.

Thankfully though, my father was a bit more receptive to my pleas. Having been the victim of a vicious accusation not five years prior. The woman in question claimed my father did unspeakable acts to her. Problem was she had never even been on the same planet as him! It took the press a bit to get a hold of that simple fact. They of course had to run through the initial cycle of finger wagging. Getting all the hits they could before issuing a half hearted apology. That is of course, if they bothered to at all.

Seeing as how their was nothing I could do in the short term but wait, my parents started me on a strict regime of house work. While they did not see eye to eye on my claim, the did agree that the best cure for any stressors is honest hard work.

So that’s how I ended up embarking on a multi day quest to weed the garden. As much as I wanted to think about my girl friend. The task at hand did a remarkable job of pushing it from my mind. It was only after I had showered and picked up my slate, the libelous reports still flooding in. That I had a chance to remember what truly mattered to me.

Checking the time in the corner I saw that I still had roughly a half hour before my mother called me down for dinner. Meals being a big deal in our household, I could not be late. I had time to draft maybe two messages? I knew who the first recipient would be but the second was currently a mystery. Resolving to figure it out later I opened the app and began to write.

Dear Molly,

I have no idea when or even if this will get to you. I’m scared shit less about what may be happening over there. I hope you are safe. I know your Pa is a foreman in those mines and most likely a ring leader in whatever when down. I just hope against hope you were not roped in. If you were please promise you will be careful. I care about you a lot. You still owe me 250 credits and I have every intention on collecting. Well not really I just wanted to sound tough. Guess that fell flat on it’s face huh? Anyway, make sure you don’t fall flat on your face yourself. I’d hate to be the only good looking one in the relationship.

Your Wonderful Man,

Curtis Wright

P.S. I attached a picture in the message. It’s the front of my house. My mom has been having me pull all the weeds out.

Hitting send, I let out a breath I didn’t know I had held. I had no clue when I might get a response. In times such as these the web was the first thing to be pulled. Still, I had to at least try and do something. I owed her that much.

Effort aside, I still had time for one more message. But who could it be? I thought to myself. Then it hit me Willie! That fabulous redneck worked the Hydrogen mines of Europa during break. Not only was he in the same system as my girl he also belonged to the same Union! If anyone could give me some answers it would be him. So, with some trepidation, I found his contact info and began to type.

Hey Willie.

Yeah I know, long time no type. I’m sure you have an idea as to why I am contacting you. I’m going to get straight to the point then. I watched what happened live and I know what’s going on. Further more, Molly is in the thick of it. I don’t want anyone to be hurt, least of all her. I know you are in the same union as the ones who led the protest. If you have any information on what is happening please tell me.

Your Trusted Friend and Ally.

Curtis Wright

No sooner had I hit send then the shrill shriek of my mother burst forth and into my ear drums. Announcing dinner like the event it was. In her mind at least. Realizing I was still in my skivvies, I quickly threw on a nice pair of black pants, a blue button up shirt, black waistcoat, and black tie. Not my finest but it was what I had on hand. What I had on the floor to be more accurate.

Walking down the stairs I could see the table was set up extra fine. Did we have a guest? I wondered. My curiosity being immediately satiated when I turned around the corner to see an older gentleman. His dark skin contrasting nicely with his bright white military uniform. A navel man I concluded So this is to be a dog and pony show. Very well, I know my part.