Author's Note: Thanks, Rainbowscape! As for the rest of you… Please let me know what you think. Do you love it, hate it, think I should stick to reading kids bedtime stories…? I like hearing your opinions.
The Child
Chapter Nine: Planetside
By B.L.A. the Mouse
"Come on, Ash, you have to put on a shirt," Rommie said, a little amused but mostly exasperated. She'd spent the last half hour trying to persuade him to put on pants, and they left for the planet in an hour.
He was being stubborn and sat down, crossing his arms to prevent her from putting the shirt on. Instead she seized the advantage and got his shoes on. "Just put your shirt on and we can get breakfast."
"No!"
"No shirt, no breakfast."
"No!" She had put him in a quandary. He wanted food, but he really didn't want the shirt. He was so focused on the problem that she managed to get the shirt halfway on before he realized it. When he did, she just slid the shirt the rest of the way on when he was preoccupied with screaming, and started leading him out the door.
"Now we can go to breakfast."
He pouted, but let it go. Then he thought of something else. "'Lex?" he asked hopefully, as they started down the corridor.
"No, she's not going to be here today, remember?" Rommie slowed as he did, ignoring the curious crewmen who were obviously rubbernecking. "Today we're going down to the planet. Tomorrow you'll be with Alex again. Remember?"
Asher frowned, staring into the middle distance and trying to recall that particular detail. Almost unconsciously, he sped up again. Rather than interrupt him and risk another upset, Rommie walked with him and steered him out of the way of traffic as they went.
As soon as they stepped onto the surface of Poetry, Asher, Dylan, and one of the two security officers started coughing and sneezing. One security guard was a Nietzschean, so he wasn't majorly affected; Rommie was an android; and Trance was, well... her physiology apparently wasn't interrupted in the least. The reactions weren't surprising, though, as Rommie noticed that the dust stirred up by the Maru's landing was around five hundred parts per million. "Trance," Dylan managed, "would your home planet be very dusty, so you've adapted to that?" He wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.
"Just a little," Trance said brightly, "but the sunsets are even better because of it."
The captain rolled his eyes a little- or tried to, anyway. He didn't do it for the very simple reason that his eyes were watering badly as they stepped off the dirt-and-gravel landing pad onto rich grass laced with bleached-white stone walkways.
The president, Roden Stanlor, was there to greet them, flanked by his own security guards, at least one reporter, and a small flock of various attendants and attendees. "Welcome!" he smiled benevolently. "I apologize for the dust, it's been a very dry year. Please," he gestured a valet carrying handkerchiefs forward. Dylan and the security officer took them, and Rommie snagged one for Asher, who was by now looking very distressed. He'd grown up in the filtered air of Andromeda, and really wasn't used to planetary conditions. "Welcome," he repeated, "to Bard Three, or Poetry as we call it. It's such a short distance to the state buildings that I thought we could walk there. If any of you have problems or," now his dazzling smile redirected at Asher, "your legs are too short, please inform Tam here, my assistant, and we'll get you a conveyance." Clapping a hand on the valets back, he turned and started to walk, obviously expecting everyone to follow.
"Well," Dylan said slowly as they started to move, "he seems all right."
"He's friendly enough," Rommie agreed, equally hesitant. He was certainly affable, if seeming a bit vacant, and he was nice enough toward Asher. Most diplomats that they had met with treated the boy clinging to her hand like some sort of maggot.
The group funneled onto one of the paths, three persons wide and smooth enough to run no risk of tripping over a badly placed tile. "Trance, what do you think?"
"He's a good person," she answered, with that faint mystical air.
Up at the head of the party, they could hear Stanlor shouting things back to them. "If you want to take a break from the negotiations, there's a beautiful park just across the street from the main building. Feel free to duck out for a moment, especially with the little one; I've ordered my guards to let you pass without incident. We'll be there in a couple of minutes, and then we can get down to some serious talking!"
Quite literally, they were there in less than five minutes. The room they were ushered into in the main building was fairly small and surprisingly neutral, with a single conference table and chairs. Dylan noted with amusement that one chair had been removed and replaced with a colorful high chair, toys strewn over the table in front of it. He was grateful; since they'd requested bringing Asher along during the negotiations, they'd provided something for him to do as well. Rommie was prepared with some of his normal toys, including Blob- she was good with things like that- but it was easier if they had some new ones to fascinate him with. She saw the arrangement as well, lifting Asher into it as the assemblage sat down. He immediately seized on a miniature model of a hovercraft they'd seen and started playing.
The president resumed speaking, his attendants silently lining the walls. "I asked you here, obviously, to talk about the Bard system joining the Commonwealth. The Commonwealth could help improve our lives, and I believe we could help the Commonwealth. Are you getting all this, Rob?" he asked one of the people at the side. Rob nodded, not even stopping taking notes.
"I'm sorry if we seem presumptuous, President, but how can this system help the Commonwealth?" Dylan questioned. He didn't know of any major good or exports the system had; it was the typical, bland government made by people managing to earn a living. As for the president, he was nice, but ditzy, and he didn't quite trust a system that chose someone this odd as its leader and crème de la crème.
"Simple, my good captain!" Stanlor beamed. "We have materials that can be used for ships and weapons on Tragedy and History. Also, our population is rife with directionless young people that can serve as soldiers."
"Ah."
"Yes, indeed! I've been thinking about this since you first appeared in the news reports, and after the Commonwealth got a firm foothold in the galaxies I decided to risk it.
"Being a peace-loving people, we won't start any wars, so you don't need to worry about that. We will not hesitate, however, to defend ourselves and our allies as quickly and efficiently as possible."
Dylan started to say something as Stanlor took a breath, but the president inhaled and rolled right over him. "Now I realize that we have certain details to hammer out before Bard signs onto the charter, but we can have a friendly drink first, can't we? Please, tell me your poison of choice, and we'll ensure that we get it." The last statement was directed to the attendants, more of a general hint than an order, but they snapped to attention and two started moving around the table, getting into a position to serve. "Captain Hunt, you first. I think you'd be the type to appreciate some nicely aged brandy, or maybe scotch. Yes, that will do."
The assistant by Dylan merely lifted his eyebrow. The captain nodded, and not even a full minute later, a glass of scotch and ice was placed next to him on the table. He took a tentative sip and discovered that it lived up to its advertising.
"Trance Gemini- I believe you would prefer a fruit punch? We have an excellent one here, completely tropical, with fruit from Infinity Atoll. Our chefs concocted it, and it's truly good." Trance had watched Dylan, and now followed his example, with similar results. "And Andromeda, water, with some milk for Asher? The officers- tea, I believe, we have a wonderful selection. And I will have some wine, thank you. Help yourselves, people." Finally the president sat down for the first time yet, accepting a glass of a deep red shade of wine.
Trance observed that he and Harper would either get along famously or drive each other crazy. Rommie was just glad that he had recognized that the best thing for Asher would have been milk, and that he had avoided problems by getting everyone some drinks, including her, with the option of refusing- although, with his attention span, she was sure that he hadn't even noticed that option. What was amazing was that he had accurately pegged everyone's most likely choice. He was definitely a good people person.
Stanlor glance around the table, still smiling vacantly and benevolently. "Isn't this marvelous? You should stay for lunch, and maybe dinner. The state dinners here are really something, believe you me!"
Asher was occupied for quite a while with the toys and the glass of milk, but it was inevitable that sooner or later he would start to wriggle and demand to get down and out. And when he did, Rommie was very, very grateful. The president was charming and amusing, but a littlesuffocating. She made an excuse, or tried to anyway, before being dragged out, but Stanlor dismissed it.
"Oh, please, go out. Young legs need exercise. And didn't I tell you about the park across the street?" He turned to Dylan. "Now what were we discussing? Ah, yes, the local government!" He dived into the topic with glee, missing entirely the looks of pained tolerance and the envious ones aimed at Rommie and Asher, even from his own staff; in short, everyone but him.
The guards stationed along the corridors gave them only cursory glances and let them pass. Stanlor had, indeed, forewarned them. One, a young woman eager to please, went to the lengths of escorting them across the admittedly busy thoroughfare.
And thus they found themselves in the park.
It was everything Stanlor had promised. The trees and bushes were a vibrant green and the flowers multicolored and cheerfully blooming in the bright sunlight. The grass actually felt soft and springy underfoot, the same brilliant shade of jewel green as the rest of the flora. Benches were scattered about tastefully, both in shade and in sun, and a few fountains, different ones for watching, drinking from, and splashing in, were arranged in prime positions. Farther off there was at least one playground area- they could hear children yelling even at this distance away.
Both of them stood and stared for a minute, drinking in the sights. It had been a few months since either of them had set foot on a planet; Asher had been on one maybe five or six times in his whole life. Rommie had often thought that hed grow up to be like Beka, preferring ships over terra firma. She looked down at him now as his eyes widened. Then he figured out that there was enough room for him to run without bumping into people or equipment and took off, clutching Blob.
Rommie smiled and started jogging after him. He let out a shriek of pure delight when he realized she was following him and sped up as much as he could. The run was mostly in a straight line- he was used to ship's decks, after all- but once in a while he swerved, a couple of times nearly into a tree.
Eventually the inevitable happened after a long chase and he tripped over his own two feet, landing facedown in the grass. In the few seconds till she reached him, he started crying into the dirt. He rolled over and pushed himself up, tears streaking slowly down his face. "Hurts!" he wailed, not letting up on the sobs.
"Where?" When she got no answer, she pointed to his knee. "Here?" He shook his head and she repeated the process over again, everywhere she could think of. Finally, stumped, she asked, "Where, then?"
He pointed to his toe. "Hurts!" That said, he flung himself at her, still crying.
"Shall I call for a medic, or will he heal from the grievous injury on his own?"
Rommie glanced up at the unexpected voice. The sun was behind the speaker, obscuring her vision, but after a moment her sensors adjusted. It was a man, fully mature but still young, she guessed about thirty, with sandy hair and pale skin. She hadn't even noticed him coming up until hed spoken. "I think he'll survive." She stood, picking up Asher and Blob, as his arms were still wrapped around her neck. He peeked out from the joint of shoulder and neck where his face was hidden, quieting, then resuming when he saw that he had an audience. "Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine," she decided. After a moment, when her questioner didn't leave, she shifted the boy to a more secure position. "So do you usually stop and talk to people you meet on the street?"
He inclined his head in deference. "Not usually, no, even ignoring the fact that we're not on the street. Spark Hanson, ma'am, at your service. And you would be?" He looked at her expectantly.
She smiled, amused by the rather courtly manners. "Rommie. And this is Asher."
Asher looked up at his name, noticing that the stranger was still there. His sobbing had abated entirely, and now a sunny smile lit his face through the tear streaks, highlighting a dimple. "Hi."
"Hello, sir." Spark smiled back. "And I suppose you are the one escorting this lovely woman?"
Asher just grinned even harder. Rommie said, "It goes both ways."
"Are you here with the Commonwealth representatives?"
"Yes. We're part of the Andromeda crew."
Spark slapped lightly at his leg. "That's where Ive heard your names! The news service has been broadcasting your arrival for a week! So what do you think of our president?" he wondered.
"Well, he's..." Rommie paused, in order to think of a way to best phrase it. The boy in her arms squirmed, and she let him down, keeping a tight grip on his hand as he started moving them both toward the playground. Spark followed. "He's an interesting person."
"You mean he's a complete flake and you have no idea how he got elected?"
"Yes."
He laughed. "Everyone says that. He's not really that dumb, he's acting the part. I think. That's probably a bad thing. Still, as long as we don't have any crises in the next couple of years, we should be all right." He turned mildly serious, though a hint of a smile lurked near the corners of his mouth. "Are you allowed to stay out here long, or is there a time limit?"
"No time limit, since I doubt the president even realizes that we're still out, but we shouldnt be out here too long anyway." Glancing down, she saw Asher light up, and it clicked when she saw the slide and swing set. He had ones aboard Andromeda, where Harper had rigged them on Obs. Deck, so it made sense that he'd want them now. Almost before he started to tug on her hand, she changed direction toward them. "Why do you want to know?"
"Because, if you don't have any overt objections, I'd rather like to make your acquaintance."
Rommie smiled, embarrassed, and looked down at the ground. "Well, you're going to have to do it while I push him." They'd reached the swings and now she helped Asher up into one, whispering, "Hold on." He giggled and pulled on the ropes hard enough to wiggle them. She took up her normal position behind him, giving him a light tap to start off.
Spark dropped into the swing next to them. "I believe I can adapt to a multi-tasking woman." A beat passed while she got Asher up to speed, then he asked, "I was wondering... You're an android, correct?"
She groaned mentally. She made it a rule to anticipate these questions, but they never, ever got easier. "Yes, I'm the ship's avatar."
"So Asher isn't your biological son." His expression was neutral, politely quizzical, like everyone else's who had asked these questions.
She was so close to letting fly with a scathing remark reserved for occasions like this, but stopped. For one thing, Asher usually wasn't with her when the lines of questioning commenced, so she could afford to bite off a remark. For another, the phrasing caught her attention.
The vast majority of curious beings they'd run into had said, "So he isn't yours?" Spark had said, "So he isn't yours biologically?" That little difference made a lot of difference. Instead of snapping, she merely replied, "It's hard to have a biological son if you haven't got biology."
The reaction she got was better than she had expected. He laughed appreciatively at her remark. "I'll take a turn pushing, if you want."
Rommie was startled out of the regular rhythm of the task and missed one. She resumed, briefly, before deciding, "All right. Just be careful." She stepped back and he stepped forward, not even missing a beat.
Her taking up his old place, and vice versa, had Asher confused. "Rommie?"
"Its all right, Ash, I'm just taking a rest. Mister Hanson's pushing now."
"Spark," he said, ignoring the mildly dirty look she gave him.
Asher frowned, but then processed it and let it go, saying "Up!"
Spark transferred his attention back to Rommie, pushing Asher just enough higher to result in a playful screech. "Do you routinely introduce people to him formally?"
"Yes," she answered, swinging her legs to start her own swing moving. "Andromeda meets with a lot of people, most of them dignitaries. However much any of them may be personally disliked- and I can think of several- we have to treat them with respect, including using their titles."
"Training him to be a diplomat already, then. Or was he born to it?" He was trying to be tactful, despite the prying nature of the question, but it didn't quite pass.
"If that's your way of asking who his parents are," Rommie said crisply, "they weren't any diplomats. Beyond that, I don't believe you need to know who his family is or was. In fact, we should probably get back to the negotiations." She halted the swing and half-rose, intending to collect Asher and leave.
What stopped her was Spark himself. "I apologize. I was just curious as to how you came to be taking care of a child. You're right; I shouldn't have asked. Please, sit back down."
She settled back onto the swing, somehow feeling that she shouldn't have given in so easily. "It's a very long story and I'd rather not tell it."
"So you accept my apology?" He endeavored to show a sad-puppy face, the same one Asher was in the habit of using on her. He knew that he really shouldn't have inquired as to the story, and curiosity was still killing him, but he did want to get to know her and the child- they were an intriguing pair, in his opinion.
Rommie smiled, just a little. "I suppose, but- What? What's wrong?"
In the middle of her sentence, Spark had turned, searching for something in the middle distance. He was frowning, only partly listening. After a moment, he answered, hesitantly. "I- it's nothing. It felt like I- we- were being stared at. I just didn't see anybody doing it."
"I can't tell," she tagged. She'd started scanning the area around them with visual, infrared, and any other sensor that she deemed as being helpful, as soon as hed said "being stared at," but there was nothing that she could discern, especially not with the number of people. In one direction alone, there was a small family having a picnic, a redhead stretched out sunning herself, a Wayist monk meditating under a tree, and a group of adults playing some sort of ball game.
"It's probably nothing," he decided, turning back. He noticed that Asher was starting to fret about the notable lack of propulsion and started pushing again. In an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, he started, "So what's it like onboard the Andromeda?"
Rommie took one last glance at the landscape again. Something still felt off, nagging at the edges of her circuit boards, but she dismissed it and went along with the conversation.
"You fell off?" Rommie laughed, falling back against the tree trunk she had been sitting against.
Spark nodded. "Right in front of His Excellency himself." He made a mock bow. "The deal, obviously, went to someone with a little more balance."
She giggled again and looked at Asher, who was busily employed gathering twigs from the ground under the tree and putting them in a pile. At that moment he was coming back with another double handful, dropping them on the top. He decided then that he had enough, sitting and starting to sort them into a different stack. She let him be. "I never did anything like that," she said smugly. "That's the advantage of being a warship. All I have to do is destroy the enemy."
"So what do you do if you have to impress your allies as a person instead of a warship?" He dropped down to his haunches and leaned closer to her.
They hadn't been this close the entire time they'd been out here. Spark could smell a light, almost baby-powder scent surrounding her; Rommie noticed the small freckles scattered over his cheeks and nose. She had opened her mouth, intending to say something, but it seemed very unimportant all of a sudden.
And then Asher dive-bombed them.
He almost jumped into her lap and beamed at her indignant exclamation of "Asher Darrell-!"
He interrupted her before she got any farther. "Dylan! Dylan!" As he repeated the name, he squirmed and twisted and pointed off toward the entrance of the park. When she looked she saw the captain coming their way, and even at this distance she could tell that he was annoyed.
She stood up abruptly and unceremoniously, only barely keeping from dumping Asher on the ground. She hadn't thought of how long they had been outside, and now she checked and realized that it had been well over an hour. "We have to leave," she informed Spark. "Ash, get Blob. Now."
Her companion had shot to his feet beside her. He looked about a shade paler than before, and was nervous. "Is that Captain Hunt?" He'd heard that the captain could be intimidating, and looming was definitely the guy's style.
"Yes, that's Dylan, and he's mad. We should have gone back in ages ago." Rommie turned to face Spark. "I'm sorry to bring the wrath of the captain down on you, but I had fun." She chanced a glance at the approaching figure, now well within shouting distance. "Maybe you should leave before he gets here."
"That sounds like a pretty good idea. Don't apologize, though, I should be the one doing that. Look me up the next time you come to Poetry. Or may I look you up?" He smiled hopefully, a little like Harper but without the lecherous aspect.
"I wouldn't mind." She smiled, self-conscious, as he took her hand and lightly kissed the back before heading off in another direction.
Rommie turned to find Dylan within ten feet. "Hello."
"Dylan!" Asher ran over, dropping Blob, and hugged his leg. He idolized the captain, though he sometimes didn't see him for up to two or three weeks at a time.
"Hi again, Asher. I hope you enjoyed yourself."
"Fun!" he crowed, and held out his arms to be picked up.
Dylan lifted him, then focused on Rommie, ignoring the hands playing with his uniform collar. "Do you realize how long you've been out here? We got a break and I decided to see where you'd gone. What have you been doing out here? And who was it that you were just talking to?" He spoke quickly, not wasting time on such things as politeness. He had been getting more and more annoyed as the time passed and the other two hadn't returned. It had passed into worry after a while- after all, he had let them go out without a security guard, and someone who was resourceful enough could immobilize even Rommie, especially if she was distracted by Asher. He hadn't wanted to risk using the communicator. And then he had come out at the first opportunity, to find them both fine and just standing there talking to someone, especially since it was a someone who hadn't bothered to even stay long enough for Dylan to see who it was. That rankled somewhat, since they had come down here to negotiate and not socialize.
"Dylan," she said, "relax. I lost track of time, and you know Ash. He could have played out here for hours without even noticing. The man I was talking to was just one of the citizens." She waited, hoping that that would pacify him. The last time he'd looked this annoyed, he'd sprained Tyr's wrist in a "friendly" basketball game.
"We could have used you! And we had no way of knowing where you and Asher were."
"Were there any problems?" she asked, figuring that if he had been really worried he could have just contacted her with the subdermal communicator he had.
"No, not yet, but we were here on a diplomatic mission, not shore leave." He pulled Ashers hands away from his uniform. "Stop that."
The boy was starting to get upset, his face screwing up and his entire demeanor looking stormy. The argument was getting to him. "Rommie!"
"Here." She took him back from the captain; he latched onto her with both arms. "You shouldn't play with peoples clothing," she admonished, knowing that it was probably beside the point. Turning her attention back to Dylan, she told him, "We were out here the entire time. You could have contacted me if you really needed us back, and you didn't have any problems."
"Fine. But don't do it again, or we could lose an entire system. And I don't think we should bring him along next time, no matter what." He turned and started off, leaving them behind. His body was still rigid with anger.
Rommie bit her tongue as she set Asher down. Sometimes his single-minded fixation on the Commonwealth really got to her. As soon as Asher had retrieved Blob, they followed Dylan.
The captain had a point in that they shouldn't have stayed out there so long. It really was irresponsible of her and unbefitting her position to do something like that, but it had been an honest mistake. He had overreacted, though, making her defensive attitudes kick in.
For starters, it was hardly Asher's fault that they had been delayed. Yes, he had been the one that they went outside for, but she could have taken them in at anytime just by saying goodbye to Spark. It had been downright mean of him to say some of what he had right in front of the child; he may not have understood all of the words, but he had understood the tone behind them.
Besides, she'd noticed that Dylan's attitude had gotten progressively military since the Commonwealth had been formally established. There was something about answering to the brass that had put the starch back in his uniform and the rod... At any rate, he still had a tendency to blame non-military behavior for disruptions, and that included the irregular behavior of the old Maru crew, Asher, and any quirks in her programming. In Asher's case, he still hadn't quite accepted the fact that he was staying with her, probably permanently. Once in a while, something of this sort was good for him, to jar him into a realization of the fact, albeit temporarily.
She snapped her attention back to the world and away from her thoughts as they came to the street between the park and the government buildings.