Fate of Frailty Chapter 12
By Karen Hart
"It's a good idea," Helmer commented a half hour later.
Rubedo peered at him through the screen. "You can't be serious. I mean, me—his kid? I'm his brother for crying out loud!"
"Well, saying the two of you are brothers would work for now," Shelley began. "But let's face it: you don't age," Mary finished.
The redhead glowered at the two sisters, and hopped down from the edge of the table he'd been sitting on. "You know, I'm really damned sick of that. But—the hell—make Gaignun of all people my dad? Are you insane?"
"They're right, you know," Gaignun spoke up a moment later. "We can just say you're adopted. I'm sure that'd take care of the current age difference."
Mary nodded quietly, head turning between Gaignun and Rubedo. "He's got a point."
Rubedo sighed. "Fine, fine. Like I've got much of a choice here anyway." He grumbled a bit longer.
"Now that that's decided, what should we call you now?" Helmer inquired a moment later.
There was silence throughout the room as the group pondered the question. Then: "What about just…Gaignun, Jr.? Jr. for short, I guess."
Everyone turned to face Mary, who'd posed the answer. Slowly they began to nod in agreement—after all the simplest solutions were often best, though Rubedo was initially hesitant.
"Yeah. I guess that'll do."
---
"Well, he took the idea pretty well, all things considered," Mary commented as she laid in bed that night, and stared up at the hotel ceiling. Aside from all his outbursts, he didn't put up much resistance, she noted inwardly. Actually, they were sort of cute. Now, where had that little opinion come from, she wondered.
Shelley tore her eyes away from the UMN screen, and turned half about to face her younger sister. "Hm?"
The blonde rolled over. "You know…Rubedo. Or, I guess we should start calling him Jr. now, huh?"
Shelley nodded, a smile gracing her face. "That'd probably be a good idea."
A moment later Mary pushed herself upright, her eyes falling on a small, white object. It was maybe three or so inches across and slightly oblong, and there was a small series of buttons along one edge. "Hey, is that what I think it is?"
Again, Shelley nodded, this time without the smile. "I know I said I gave up on looking, but…"
"I know," Mary assured her. "After all, it'd be nice to know just where the two of us come from, right? Have you found anything lately?"
Shelley shook her head. "Not really. Just more dead ends. I swear, three-fourths of the information I find is either useless or can no longer be accessed. I'll probably search around tonight for a little while."
"I hope you find something soon," Mary murmured as she rested her chin on her knees.
"Me too."
---
Rubedo—no, he was Jr. now, it was time to discard the old name—leaned back in the softly upholstered chair in the suite's study. "So, just what's involved in changing identities anyway? Anything I should worry about?"
Gaignun looked back at him from where he stood. "I doubt it. There'll be some forging of documents, of course, and you'll have to be…let's call it properly introduced to the public. But nothing to really bother worrying over, as it were."
Jr. breathed a sigh of relief at that. "Good to hear." He'd been dreading forms and stamped documents and all the trappings of a bureaucracy. "And now that that's cleared up, aren't we supposed to do something about the U-TIC?"
A smirk flashed across Gaignun's features. "You're awfully eager to help with the Foundation now."
The youthful redhead matched the expression. "Hey, I'm a Kukai now, right? Besides, it's not like I haven't had a hand in this place before."
"True enough," Gaignun replied.
"So. Foundation. U-TIC. Need for defenses. Wasn't there something about this place already having those?"
Gaignun nodded. "I'll call up the specs. You have something in mind?"
Jr. shook his head. "Nothing concrete. I have to see them before I can come up with any real ideas."
"That's fair, I guess."
A few minutes later they were both huddled in front of another UMN terminal, blueprints of the Kukai Foundation cluttering the screen, though plans describing security measures were at the top of the list. For a while they stared at the images, pondering their next action.
"Hey," Jr. said slowly, as if trying to give his thoughts time to form properly, "do you think any of this stuff is detachable?"
Gaignun looked at his brother in surprise. "I suppose so. But why?"
"Because I think I might have an idea."
---
Fifteen minutes later they were once again speaking with Helmer, who regarded them with no small amount of surprise.
"So, that's about it," Jr. concluded at the end of his explanation. "We won't need to build as much since we can just use the Foundation's propulsion systems, and some of the weaponry."
"But won't that put the Foundation at risk?" the politician inquired.
"Ah, but the Foundation's a peaceful station," Jr. pointed out. "It shouldn't need to run, and it doesn't need the level of weaponry that's currently gathering dust. A ship though—we'd just need one, if we build it right, and we'd still have the option of defense."
Helmer spent a moment thinking that over. "All right. We'll need to get started on it quickly, though. By the way, I don't figure you have any schematics, yet, but any ideas on what we should call it—at least for now?"
The air grew still as the two Kukais pondered the question. A minute later Jr. spoke up.
"This is just temporary, but what about…the Durandal?"