Fire Eagles and Swan

By Sharon L Reddy

Who looks for someone in hiding among those creating a legend?

Captain Angel carries the one who was always outside looking in into the future on her bright wings. Sweetie adds to her big sister programming and the Fire Eagles and Swan, the Beaus, lift the Lady Sigh from her chrysalis. Cerebus Guardian is known. The amulet of Zobrist is created. The change has begun and those who walk the Bright Path and those who follow the North Wind prepare.

Sharon Reddy:
"Jestin Warn is one of the best elders I've written. Creating bum stories was a lot of fun. Writing Sweetie was great. You have no doubt that computer will make Drake or Tal blush. A lot of laughter in this one. Some great romantic scenes. Lots of design sketches for your imagination to play with and lots of great food, of course. That's how bums get rides."

About books by Sharon L Reddy, reviewers said:

recluse:
"The author is a fine wordsmith who possesses a marvelous imagination."

Raven's Reviews:
"...unique, fast-paced style ...allows one to read almost as fast as one can think."
"...romantic brain-candy... If you like almost any kind of men at all, you'll like hers..."

Mistress of the Dark Path:
"...you will also notice your mind is stimulated."
"...designed for a more educated and worldly crowd."

R. Cagle:
"I got hooked immediately."

Marji Holt:
"The characters came out of the books and into my dreams."

Twenty-four titles. Start your collection today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sharon L Reddy
• Release date: Jun 6, 2011
• ISBN: 9781583385654

Sharon L Reddy

I write science fiction romance, but it's the literary definition of romance. Swashbuckle, Baby, in "white tie and tails." High romantic fantasies, million word mysteries, family sagas, statesmen, gurus and wise immortals. Loving dads, sons and brothers, and of course, the women who understand and appreciate them. High fashion and landscape design. Materials and art, the books are built to be read very fast, specifically for the way women visualize. Research on the soap operas of the fifties, trends in international populist (fan) fiction, technological development, and above all, long-term entertainment value. It has to be good in reruns. The intent is create a body of work that's just fun to read, in spurts or bursts over decades. Ethics, responsibility, nobless oblige, the power of money, the use of prestige. I write good guys win. Period. They're fantasies for women. Men with lots of muscle say, "I love you," a lot.Most of what is currently published was written in the first decade, 1991-1999, before Mother Nature changed my personal definition of "mature audience." I hope you'll remain with me as I and my work mature and enjoy the second decade of my work now being published, as well.I've lived many places and visited far more. My current residence is on a high mesa in New Mexico, in the United States, where I am engaged in a habitat restoration project.Explanation of the Pilots Group:Some of these works have been sitting on my hard drive close to twenty years and they're no fun for anyone just sitting there. They're exactly what they've been titled, pilots, like for a TV series. It is my intent and hope that other writers will choose to continue the adventures of the characters. There are only three restrictions. Don't kill off my heroes, don't make good guys bad guys and give my story credit if you publish. Yes, you may publish and make money on your stories. I loved reading and writing fan fiction, but the limitations on it could be frustrating, so... Have fun with these works that specifically don't have them.

Book preview

Sharon L Reddy

Fire Eagles and Swan

©2011

Target Yonder

Smashwords Edition

ISBN 978-1-58338-566-1

Cover background: NASA, ESA, STScI

Chapter One

Loadman Frain was a bum. He was good at it. He'd bummed his way across most of human space. His secret was a recipe for apple pie he'd picked up in a museum. He'd hunted it down. A nine-year-old girl had given him a piece of the pie she'd made for a project in her history class and he'd gone to the museum to find the recipe right after he ate it.

He liked people and he liked to cook. It was amazing how many people operating one to three-person ships would suddenly arrange for the pantry to be stocked with very nice food for one extra for a twelve to twenty-day journey. Loadman Frain was considered the best bum by the other bums, who sought adventure and travel and exchanged company and someone else's cooking for passage to somewhere.

Loadman Frain was twenty-seven. He'd been a bum since he was a very mature-appearing fourteen. He was the only one who knew his age. He was also the only one who knew where he'd spent the first fourteen years of his life, but some people knew someone had spent fourteen years there. They were still hunting the one who had. They were sure that one had answers they wanted. Only he knew he didn't. All he had ever had were questions, but those who still hunted wouldn't believe it.

Mirist looked at the man walking toward her and smiled. It was very easy to do. His wide, friendly smile invited it. His long light-brown hair, wide shoulders and narrow hips made it a bit warmer than she intended. His smile widened into a grin and he changed heading a bit to intercept her, as they walked opposite directions through the shuttle departure concourse.

The fellow was obviously a bum, but she'd met only one she didn't like and she was also the only one she'd met she didn't trust. His ship suit was worn and so was the bum kit that hung from his left shoulder. He had a bundle jacket draped over his right. He was clean and neat and very attractive, but something about him disturbed her. She examined her feelings, decided the disturb was a warning he was going to bring trouble. She was delighted. She hadn't been in any good trouble for years.

Hi, I'm Loadman Frain. The star on your collar says you're a ship captain. I'm a bum and a terrific cook. Going somewhere?

I've heard of you. I'm about to make a long run. My ship is Yonder Girl. She's big and fast and runs a crew of three, currently me and my twin little brothers. I can feed four for thirty-eight days.

I can cook for four for thirty-eight days.

You won't be doing all of it. Talon likes to cook if he doesn't have to do it daily. Taval and I just like to eat. Captain Mirist Warn. Yonder Girl is headed for Beryl Banks Station with a load of scientific instruments. After that, she's headed for Yuma. It's unlikely you'd find a lift off Beryl Banks, so that's why I gave you the thirty-eight.

Thank you, Captain, I doubt I'd find a ride off a science station very easily either. I've never been to the Arizona Cluster.

Neither have I. I never had an excuse before. I'm interested in seeing the worlds whose people decided they didn't like their official name and found a way to change it and make it stick.

Arizona Cluster is more pleasant to say and easier for most to remember than Arridi Zone A Cluster. I read that emigration to the worlds in it increased by nearly fifty percent after it became known as 'Arizona.' There should be some interesting people to meet there.

A bunch of raving romantics. I expect to feel right at home. I don't plan to come back.

I beg your pardon?

I'm going to pick a world and a port and open a business. My little brothers are using their inheritance from their mother to buy the ship. Different mothers, same dad. Mine had stars in her eyes and a contract with a colonial development corp. I was seventeen when she didn't come back. Daddy didn't find another love for a long time. My little brothers are not quite eighteen. I'll need help to bake them a cake for their birthday.

I would be delighted. Since you said, 'inheritance,' may I assume you are guardian until they are eighteen?

Yes. Their mother was killed in the Harver strato-commuter/shuttle collision.

That was recent. About eighty days?

Yes. I just happened to be close to Costella at the time. Tarim was on the shuttle. It was just a little business trip and Dad hadn't wanted her to go. He waited for me to get there, made sure I got custody and left Costella. He's going back to Earth. He was born there. He's well over a hundred now and wants to go home. He has a good retirement income and can support himself there. He told Tav and Tal they'd hate being minors until they were twenty-five and paying for eight years of education they don't need, to get jobs they wouldn't like, was a foolish way to use what their mother had worked to give them. They knew part of the reason he was going was so they would get it. Even though the house and land were in her name and she left a will, Costella law says resident surviving spouse gets half. He made himself non-resident so the properties could be sold. You're being warned they're looking for a Daddy substitute.

I'll see if I can steer it to big brother to talk to. I'm a great deal more comfortable with that role. May I ask what business you are planning on entering?

I have a hobby. I design ship living space. Arizona Cluster because Canyon Stars Transfer is based there and they want me to design the crew areas of forty-two, two-to-six person, ships. I have a fat retainer to use to get started. Just amazing what inviting another woman home to kick off shoes and indulge in girl talk can do. I had no idea she was senior captain for Canyon Stars. I just knew we'd spent two hours giggling together in the captain's lounge and I wanted to show her Yonder Girl. I got the contract offer to do the ships two days before I was full thrust for Costella. Canyon Stars was very nice about the delay in starting until I got three lives in order.

Oh, what have I done right? Or perhaps I should run. The captain is beautiful and very interesting. The boys make me feel needed. The ship is a starfarer's dream home.

The last thing Daddy told me to do before he left was teach Tal and Tav to have a good time. I knew you were going to get me into trouble as soon as I saw you. I'm sure we can find some to get into some place along the way. Daddy knows what I think of as fun.

I will need carrots and cream cheese for the cake and apples for pie. All the other ingredients are usually found in a nicely stocked pantry.

I filled it out of the house. Talon stuck a couple items on the supply list, so he's evidently keeping it stocked. I keep the auto-chef stocked. I have a large file on what not to buy again.

If the quality of auto-chef meals was consistent, bums would have a great deal more difficulty bumming passage, Captain. I protest none of us have the assets necessary to bribe the producers to assure it is not.

No wonder I've heard of you. You're going to be interesting company on the journey.

As are you, Captain. We're going to a shuttle to a cargo dock?

No, we're going to a shuttle to Crandall Synthesis loading dock seven. Talon is supervising the loading. Taval is assuring it's done exactly as Talon planned it. This is their load of delicate equipment to deliver. I checked the plan. It'll take a head-on with an asteroid to damage any of it when they get done.

How big is Yonder Girl?

She's a Castor-Raine supercargo.

She's bigger than Beryl Banks.

No, but it'll look like they've increased the size of the station by about half when she docks.

May I ask how you manage a ship her size with a crew of three?

I make sure they're good. Her systems are custom designed to be operated by one person, but three is more comfortable. She's a large home with a huge cargo capacity. I chose her because I could have the systems set up that way. She's the only ship built with engineering below the bridge. I also had an 'in' with the company.

She's the only ship built that can drop her cargo holds. The only other one I've been on was used nearly like a tug. Her captain picked up and dropped off entire hold sections each trip between two worlds.

Annim Mastroshiler, the Blue Worlds Fairy.

He did have a sense of humor about it.

Grain to Sapphire and metals to Turquoise for over fifteen years. It would have driven me crazy, but he likes it. Of course, his family is on Turquoise.

We probably have many acquaintances in common, Captain. I've been bumming around this cluster for six years. One can't come to know nineteen worlds in that time, but one can visit every major shuttle port and space dock and meet a great many people, whose business it is to travel between them. I'm quite ready to travel to another area. In fact, I'm rather excited about it.

Should be fun. I'm going to look around some for the right place for me. If we're not tired of each other's company, you can look around with me.

Captain, what do you want from me besides dinner? You're dropping bread crumbs and leading me down the path like a park pigeon.

Someone to keep an eye on my little brothers their first journey without me. How tall are you?

I'm not. I'm one hundred sixty-nine and one-quarter centimeters short. I have met a few men shorter. I have also met a few women shorter. There were not many of either.

Tal and Tav would gladly trade you cens of height for cens of shoulder.

Good exercise adds width of shoulder. It doesn't do a thing for being short. Private shuttle?

I've got the only ship around with hold space configured the right way for their cargo and I gave them a very good deal. They're being very nice to me. The load is for the joint university project being set up. The shuttle belongs to an alumnus. She told me the price I contracted for shipping was a relief to every alumnus of the nine universities. It seems they were all anticipating a request for more donations and she was sure a couple shuttle trips were going to be much less damaging to her budget.

You're taking the load because only you can take it. By pleasant coincidence, it's also going the direction you wish to travel. Contracted for expenses?

Plus point seven percent. Tal and Tav should be paid for their first job.

At eighteen, one is a captain?

Their mommy built ship systems. Their daddy tested them. They've been engineer's assistants since they learned to talk. They both have the logged ship hours and they passed the tests. Taval is the pilot and Talon is the planner. Captain is a license. Everyone in their family had one, but only their big sister captained a ship. They think co-captains is reasonable and expect people to get over the shock after awhile.

He laughed and nodded and Mirist forgave the Project Board for holding one last silly meeting. She wouldn't have met him if the comma and decimal watchers hadn't needed one more insurance document signed physically, not digitally, just in case anything happened and the lawyers said that policy applied too. She, personally, doubted a policy designed to cover losses due to floods and high winds had much probability of being applicable, considering the cargo was moving form space dock to space dock, but someone had discovered it covered shipping damage and she'd signed the statement she would release the ship logs to the company if a claim was made.

She decided a mental apology for all the mental grousing she had done was going a bit far, though. She said a mental thank-you to 'whatever' had heard her mental worry sessions and put just who her little brothers needed in her path, instead. She had no doubts Loadman Frain was the right person. Excellent people judgment and pretty good timing had made her very rich.

Frain examined his feelings about the captain and what she'd told him. She was healthy middle-age and looked about fifty, not about seventy as his mental tally of ages and years said she was. She was also either a superb trader or she'd gotten a very large inheritance from her mother. He wondered why he'd never heard of the owner/captain of the Yonder Girl, then realized he had.

Yo Girly and Captain Miss.

Baslowe Youri started that and every other traffic controller in the cluster picked it up. Since yelling I need a place big enough for Girly gets me one big enough without a lot of questions about her, I'm not difficult about the nicknames. Talon and Taval are much less pleased with the nickname the Flare Twins, but they've had it since they toddled. They have bright red hair and their surname is Warn. Both our mothers insisted we have Dad's. Both spent a lot of time spelling their surnames for people. Mine requested a change to Dad's. Theirs had built a professional reputation on hers. Surname Loadman or Frain?

I go by Frain. Loadman has too many interesting possibilities for play.

I can see that.

Carrots, cream cheese and apples?

I'll comm Talon from the shuttle. There's our pilot and right on time. Tonna, did you get them?!

No problem at all, Captain Mirist. The port bakery had them. They also have good Danish and coffee and a nice place to enjoy them. There are thirty-six in a package, but I got two packages, different colors.

Perfect! Thank you. I did well for spending four hours blinking in boredom in a boardroom. I got candles for a cake and someone who knows how to bake one. I really do appreciate it.

No problem at all, except I found a place with great pastry and will probably get too fat for my uniforms.

Frain sat behind the two women and listened as they chatted on the shuttle ride. He was sure an inheritance was not how Captain Mirist Warn had gotten her ship before the shuttle docked at Crandall Synthesis. The captain was very good with people. He considered what she'd told him again and how she'd done it and smiled. He'd been a bum looking for a ride. Now he was a man with plans to journey with two very young men until he was sure they were ready to journey alone.

A sturdy kit bag, a bundle jacket and a smile were all the identification a bum needed. She'd decided he was the right one to be more than a companion on a journey and given him a place for a time. She was a superb judge of people and had decided he wanted more. It worried him a bit how much he wanted that more.

The captain requested they dock at Crandall, not the ship. She told the shuttle pilot it was an excuse to check on how her little brothers were doing without seeming like she was checking on how they were doing. The pilot laughed and arranged it.

Frain walked with the captain through the huge shipping prep area to the extendible dock sealed to the side of the huge ship. They got there just in time to find trouble.

Frain shed his kit and jacket and ran. A man had just slugged one of his boys and was running. He brought him down and put him out when he began to fight. The other boy and the captain had run for the boy on the deck. He dragged the man to them.

He slugged me when I told him to put that container down and asked who his supervisor was, Mir. The container on that loader doesn't go on yet and all the supers have the schedule. Talon, what's in that container?

Let me think, Tav. Container two-seven-nine is in loading group four. Mirist! It has six pure platinum rods in it! More probably, did have.

I agree, Talon. You panicked him when you asked who his supervisor was, Tav. The plan was load the container and no one would know the rods were missing, until it was unloaded. Loadman Frain, my brothers Talon and Taval. Taval's the one on the deck. Frain is going with us, boys. He has a reputation I really hope he lives up to. Captains say they liked his company and rhapsodize about his cooking.

What happened here?!

Frain smiled when the captain stopped the obvious person-in-charge from asking questions with a fast brief on the planned theft that Taval and Talon had uncovered. Mirist thanked him for his quick action in stopping the running man on general principle and the man dismissed him as unimportant to the investigation. A well-dressed woman strode up and took over. She was obviously more in-charge than the man. She ordered the container opened and called for security. Frain moved in front of the nervous boys while a search for the bars that weren't in the container took place.

Relax. You exposed the thief and, most likely, prevented the theft. They'll locate the missing rods if they're still on the industrial platform. It's most probable they are. You're heroes, not suspects, and your sister will make sure security treats you as such. Let's get a bit out of the center of activity. I've got a medi-kit in my kit. Let's go sit on the deck beside it and I'll treat Taval's split lip and bruised jaw.

Thank you. A few days short of eighteen makes us kids where adults are working. Mir made sure the loading crew didn't see us that way, but the others will.

No, Talon, she told them you knew what you were doing and a few minutes of working with you convinced them she was right. The ones who have been working with you will convince the others, but it'll take a bit. Some loading crew super will tell them your insistence everything be loaded in a specific way and specific order was driving them a bit crazy, but it paid off and they're all retracting their grousing about it. You'll discover actual age doesn't have anything to do with it. You'll be treated like kids, until you show them you're not, wherever you go, until you look at least as old as I do.

How old are you?

What year is it, Taval? Have I been bumming around for twelve, fifteen or more? I don't keep track of that, let alone my age. As long as I don't, I don't think about the fact I'm just a bum with no future plans and most people my age are doing something with their lives.

But you are doing something. You're learning a great deal about people and worlds that can't be found in texts. It's a worthwhile endeavor.

Thank you, Talon, for myself and all the other bums who just bum around.

Frain treated Taval's minor injury and they were, basically, ignored until the rods were found, the man taken into custody, the container repacked and sealed and loading recommenced. At that point, Captain Mirist joined them, looked Taval over and pronounced him fit for duty. She told them to get the ship loaded and that she would be on Yonder Girl introducing Frain to the galley and exploring the pantry.

Talon suddenly bolted for the other side of the loading area. He returned with a ship corridor cart loaded with apples, carrots, cream cheese and a large case labeled Jolly's Spices. He told them he'd forgotten he'd been told they'd been delivered, just before the thief had slugged Tav.

Frain put his kit and jacket on top of the load on the cart and followed Captain Mirist through the long tube to a personnel hatch on Yonder Girl with it. The hatch was still a long way from the front of the ship, but there would be a railer near it to take them the approximately half-kilometer to it. He grinned and unloaded the cart onto the platform, with seats and place for cargo, right across from the hatch.

The captain told him to leave the cart where it was. She didn't know if it was theirs or Crandall's and Talon would see to it that it was off the ship or stored properly, depending on which. Frain climbed on the cart that ran on rails along the corridor wall and the captain ordered the computer to move them.

This won't take long. The computer extends the cross-corridor rails before the cart gets to them so we don't have to wait for them at each intersection.

You don't have large numbers of people moving through them so warning signals and time to clear aren't necessary. You programmed the automated system?

I had to. The manual system is considered a safety feature. This is the only ship her size where it's more of an inconvenience than an asset.

A question. I noticed Taval is usually called Tav, but Talon is usually called Talon. Is it their preference?

Now, that's a very good question and one I really hadn't considered. It's situational. Talon is Tal when he's relaxed and sans immediate responsibilities. When he has them, he's Talon, and always has been, I think. He's just too precise to be 'casually' Tal when he's working on something. Tav is always the same. I don't know if it's a preference, but I think you'll see why within a couple days.

I see it now. I also see why Tal hovered over Tav while I treated his lip, but Tav asked Talon what was in the container. He's decided Talon is going to be captain. I doubt Talon will even realize it.

Yes, he'll cheerfully accept the title co-captain and steer others to think of Talon as captain and him as first officer. Talon won't really notice he's doing it for awhile because he'll be busy dealing with the responsibilities. By the time he does, Tav will have 'proof' it reduces confusion and makes dealing with people simpler and things run more smoothly. The only time he'll take over is if there's some type of threat. Talon is his little brother when that happens. He's seven minutes older. Their mother intended them to be called Val and Lon, but couldn't break other people of 'doing the twin thing' with their names. The T A at the beginning was Dad's insistence they have part of her name. She once told me she'd have stuck it on the end if she'd been thinking clearly at the time.

I've wondered if birth clinic personnel find the results of asking an exhausted woman to name a child immediately after birth humorous. Loadman is not the only name I've heard that sounds like it was read off a sign or label on something, by a woman who was too tired to remember what she'd planned to name a child.

Then Frain is your surname.

It's the one I consider as such.

That answer begs a question, Frain.

I never met my mother. I was fostered by one who also never met her. I would like to think that one did not have answers to my questions, rather than refused to answer them or was instructed not to do so. I don't look for short people named Loadman or Frain and haven't in a long time. My childhood was not untypical in many respects.

I think you would prefer I let that carefully phrased explanation go unquestioned, but I do have one. Fostered not adopted?

There are many children to be adopted, whose mother's signed documents allowing it. Getting a court to approve an adoption without those documents is a long and expensive process. I've now told you more about my early past than I've told anyone else in years.

It didn't damage you, but it set you apart as different and you prefer to leave it in the past.

Precisely. I wonder how Talon got these items so quickly. He must have gotten word they'd been delivered as we docked.

I imagine he checked to see if Crandall had what he wanted in stores and ordered replacements for them. Tav probably made sure Crandall's people saw it as more logical to do it that way than for Yonder Girl to sit and wait until the supplies were delivered.

They're going to be a very good trading team and you're extremely proud of them.

I really didn't have anything to do with the way they turned out, but I excuse myself for glowing by telling myself I'm being proud of them for Tarim and Dad.

That hair is amazing.

I've never seen any redder. Their mother's was reddish, but not as bright. She told me she'd expected theirs to darken a bit as hers had, but decided it wasn't going to by the time they were about eight. I told her Daddy liked it the way it was and it wouldn't dare change. She said she had a suspicion his had been red before it was silver.

Mirist explained supplies were usually taken aboard Yonder Girl through a different hatch and they'd have to carry them to the pantry. She said they'd take comfortable loads to carry the 'width' of the ship and not worry if they didn't get it all moved before the cargo was loaded. Frain hung his kit on her shoulder, handed her the container labeled spices, laid his jacket on top of it, stacked the rest of the supplies and picked them up. He could see over the stack, so it was comfortable. She grinned and instructed the computer to open the hatch between the cargo section and the personnel section.

Frain followed the captain through the hatch and stopped moving. He'd walked into a formal garden. He stared around him in amazement at the flowers that lined the path past fountains and statuary. He sort of stumbled along behind the captain, trying to take in the beauty of his surroundings and convince himself he was still on a ship. Mirist glanced back at him and grinned.

It's a lot simpler than it looks. None of the plants require any care except water, light and nutrients. The computer does the work. The grass is a strain developed for golf courses and grows to a nice even height of just under five cens. The fountains are like the ones you see in hotels and such. A panel opens once daily and a wand with a brush on the end does a programmed thorough scrub so there's never an algae problem. That pool over there is a spa for a dozen in disguise. I wanted one that big and the garden seemed like a nice idea for a setting for it. It doesn't get a great deal of use, but it certainly has come in handy when I was getting nowhere in a trade negotiation. I stretch, say I think we all need a break and invite people to the garden bar for refreshments. I open the cabinet under the bar and offer the assorted swimwear in it to anyone who thinks a spa would be relaxing and point out the toilet and changing booth, that little white structure. Fifteen minutes later I have a very relaxed group of negotiators and the contract I want.

Always, because you know just who wouldn't be comfortable getting comfortable. This is amazing and I'm very interested in why the pool isn't often used.

There's a smaller one in every bath in my quarters and one half that size in the gym.

The gym?

Ball court, exercise room and swimming pool. That whole section is a shameless copy of a very nicely done area of a small luxury liner. Remember, I had space expected to be quarters for about twenty people plus twenty to forty passengers to work with.

It's a palace!

Frain really hadn't been prepared. Nothing she'd said, or the garden, had made him ready for what he was seeing. He couldn't 'take it all in.' Tiered balconies on one side of the large 'living room' held beautifully decorated rooms designed for various purposes. He saw there were conference rooms and studies where two to six could comfortably do business on the level above them and beautiful bedrooms and 'dens' on the one above that. He recognized the shimmer of an opacity field in front of two of the bedrooms and decided those were the ones being used by Talon and Taval. That led his eyes to the section at the front of the ship and a wall two decks high 'covered' with paintings. Beneath it was a stage large enough for an orchestra, a dance floor and a bar on each side of a number of conversation groupings of chairs, couches, and tables.

Actual living space is behind the wall. I've got four bedrooms in it, but the boys decided they wouldn't move into them until they were owners and not crew. I don't expect you to be as difficult about it. Those are guest rooms and I put guests and occasional passengers in them. There's an auto-chef and small bar in each two-room grouping and I tell them up front I don't cook and they're basically on their own as far as meals are concerned. They can use the banquet galley if they want to actually cook something, as long as they clean up after themselves.

I see why you said take a 'comfortable' load. You knew I was going to keep stopping to stare around me.

Actually, I knew how far it was to the galley lift. Shortest distance is up that staircase, left and through the doors into the private area. The gym and pool are just beyond the doors and I extend use of them to passengers as long as they don't use them alone. The lift on the opposite side won't take them up to the galley unless the computer has instructions to allow it. Yonder Girl! This is Loadman Frain, called Frain. He is a personal guest and allowed access to all areas, no restrictions. He has sense enough to knock on a closed door and not swim without company.

Thank you, Captain. I'm looking forward to seeing the galley and cooking in it. You may not cook, but I'm sure it's designed to be pleasurable for anyone who does.

Definitely. I copied Dad's kitchen arrangement as closely as I could. My design is basically modifying what I remembered to fit into the shape of the space I had allocated for it. Talon says I did very well. He hasn't had to hunt for anything so far. Which is a good thing because I doubt I'd remember where I put it. Frankly, I've made some salads and grilled some fish I caught in it in the eleven years since I had the ship built. Basically, I've rearranged the furniture in my quarters, added artwork and planted the garden since I took her out of her construction bay.

Captain, this is a billion credit ship and then some.

I've been a trader for about fifty years, Frain. I'm a very good one. Now I'm ready to do something else and want a home with a yard big enough I have to hire three people to take care of it. I want fruit trees, berry bushes and fresh vegetables. I want a staff to take care of the house and prepare for lots of guests on the spur of the moment. I want sunshine and rain and the rich green smell of a living world, and regular work hours. The only thing I'm taking from the ship are the contents of my closet and some of the art. I'm looking for a place near a port with a nice climate and walls and courtyards where the art will look appropriate.

You're shopping for a mansion.

I'd prefer not to have to build one, but I will if I can't find what I want where I want it. I'm ready to join society when I find the society I want to join.

And you're starting with Yuma because?

My cargo is hybrid seed from Greening Farms on Glenfair. Yuma Agra yelled yes when I said I was coming their way with a load of it.

The scientific equipment is the boys' cargo and the seed is yours?

Correct. Point seven percent profit on a load for a ship this size is a large chunk and what I consider the least acceptable amount. I have gotten both more and less, but I've been disappointed when it was the latter. Point seven will give them enough to shop for a small trade cargo and a basic cost-plus to quote for delivery of a big one. Frain, they have everything they and their parents loved from their home. It's all stored. When you think they're ready, get them to take it out and put at least some of it in their new home. I think they'll be ready after they've made a journey on their own. That's when Yonder Girl will really begin to feel like their ship.

They understand that as well, Captain. It's why they chose not to share your quarters.

I agree. I also think living in this area for awhile will keep them from thinking of it as separate, like the public areas of a residential hotel. This is the part of their home designed for entertaining large numbers of guests. These doors and the ones on the deck above are open unless there are large numbers of guests or paying passengers.

It's huge!

It's fifty meters. That's about average for swimming pools. That hatch on the other side leads to the bottom deck of engineering. It's emergency only and the computer opens it if there is one and someone is running for it. It operates manually if the computer is disabled. The ball court and such are that way. This lift takes us up to the galley. There's one that goes up to the living room near the bedrooms and another to it near the bridge. Both bridge lifts go directly to engineering. There are fore and aft personnel hatches on decks one and three on the port side and decks one, four and seven on starboard, in this section. Engineering and galley supply hatches are on deck eight. That puts them at ground level if the ship is landed.

Say what?!

This section can be landed. The whole ship can be if the cargo section is empty. No one does it because docking is so much simpler and port fees for something the size of just this section are quite large, but Miriman Castor said no ship she put her name on would be incapable of landing on a world, period. Since the power required to do that with a ship this size is immense, this model ship is faster than any other her size and most smaller ships. She's got a couple other features I've never used too. There's a docking bay for a small ship below the hatches on the port side and an area beneath engineering designed for the installation of a large weapons system.

Ship, not shuttle?

There's a shuttle bay in the cargo section. I use it for cargo space if I need it. Frankly, I've thought of getting a small ship and weapons, but never considered a shuttle. A ship designed to operate in space and emulate a flyer in atmosphere would be handy at times. I'd have to pay a crew to load a shuttle or lease loading equipment. It's actually about the same price to employ a cargo shuttle service, a lot less work and they take care of the shuttles and replace anything that gets damaged between the shipper and ship.

Beautiful! Oh, I will love working in this galley.

I like it, but that nook is about all I use of it. Note the coffee brewing system is next to the comp screen right beside it. This is where I talked things over with my crew.

Ow?

Jenni and Rostrin were with me for seven years. I booted them onto their own ship not long before Tarim was killed. I realized they wanted children and weren't going to have them as long as they were crew on my ship. I'm going to put you in the two-room suite they shared. I designed it for them so they had a private place besides their bedroom. Don't think that means you're expected to live in just those two rooms and the galley. I'll be disappointed if you don't fall asleep on a couch in the living room some time during the trip. I'm giving you the suite so it's not hallowed ground. I haven't been able to come up with a way to do that with my bedroom yet, but I will.

I'm sure of it and have a suspicion I'm going to be involved somehow. Captain, you're making plans for me and changing my life. I'm just accepting both the plans and the change and I don't know why.

Fate put you in my path, Frain. You're as ready for a change as I am. You've got a past you've been leaving behind for years. You were surprised when you talked about it. I'll make a guess you're from Donner and being a bum doesn't require you show anyone identification that states you were an abandoned child and requests the state be notified if you exhibit aberrant behavior, so they can determine if the cause was your foster care or genetic.

I never applied for identification.

I wouldn't have. Do you want some?

Huh?!

Frain, you've made a great many friends. So have I. Between our two groups of friends, I think I can get you identification that doesn't have all that denigrating junk on it. Would you like me to try?

Uh, I don't know. I think I need to sit down.

Oh, boy, I rubbed a spot of dirt and took off a scab. Sit. I'll punch for coffee. You've been carrying that pain too long, kid. You built a reputation as the one bum a captain would be a fool not to offer a ride, Frain, and not just for your cooking. I've heard captains talk about you for years. You've got at least the hours and experience to be a ship tech three and probably to be an officer. Every captain in this cluster knows it. I quote an old friend, 'That young man can do anything that needs doing on a ship and you'll find it out the first time he's aboard and something goes haywire, like a drive system failure.' She had one.

Captain Vandra. Some idiot didn't tighten the mounting bolts on one side of the ignition unit, when she had the drive serviced. Three days from anywhere, the ones on the other side sheared due to stress and the computer did an emergency shut-down of the drive. All I did was find something that would work to replace the mounting bolts and help get the ignition unit remounted.

Anyone who knows Vandra knows exactly what you did. Those fourteen hours of the two of you scrambling to stay alive are etched in her memory. When she talks about them, other captains add bits about things you did on their ships besides cook and provide pleasant company. Frain, I'm sure you're going to stick with my little brothers until you're sure they don't need you. This offer doesn't have anything to do with that and there's no type of obligation involved. Let me, as representative of all the ship captains and crews you've helped, do something for you. Let me get you what you need to change your life when you're ready. Let those who you have helped say thank you in a way that's a lot more than handing you a few credits.

I still don't know what to say. Or think.

Think about baking a special birthday cake in eight days and figure out what you want to fix for dinner in about four hours. Drink your coffee and get acquainted with the galley. Put the supplies in the pantry and find the huge bedroom that I made into two large rooms. Put your clothes in the drawers and closet and your bum kit and bundle jacket away. If you decide you want to bum around Arizona Cluster, you can. I'm going to see if I can arrange it so you can choose to do something else, if you decide you're ready to stop bumming.

Frain stared at the entry to the galley for some time after she'd gone through it. He suddenly yelled, Comm! Captain, change my damn name if you can! I dislike it intensely. Out. He jumped up, whooped, danced around the galley a bit, then began peeling apples with the tool he carried in his kit. Even if the captain couldn't do what she was attempting, he wanted to bake a pie for her for wanting to try. He put his desperate hope she would succeed 'on the back of the stove' and pie firmly in front of it.

Mirist took a deep breath and crossed her fingers. She doubted Donner had anything to do with Frain's past, but it was a plausible and that was all she needed to start. She burst into laughter when she got his comm message and was still grinning when Alvina Larasky came on comm.

Mir! I thought you were dashing off to Arizona Cluster today.

There was a slight delay. The project board found one more insurance document I could sign and we caught a thief on the Crandall loading dock. He slugged my little brother and ran when he asked him who his supervisor was. Loadman Frain thinks and moves as fast as Vandra said. Thief was down and out before the rest of us stopped blinking. Then Frain very carefully got off to the side and kept quiet. You know me. I carefully worked more about him out of him than he's evidently ever told anyone else. Alvi, bums don't need identification. How many of them, do you suppose, grew up in foster care on Donner and are bums because no one asks for it?

Oh, hell! Damn that world and their crusading 'social conscience' stupidity. I've got the incident at Crandall on screen. Quote, 'Loadman Frain. I'm a space bum. The captain just told me I could bum with her. He hit her brother and ran for a hatch. I just got to him before he got to it.' The report says the investigator didn't ask for identification because she knew him by reputation and doubted he'd have any. What do you want to do?

I want the traders' association and the court to get together and give him some and a tech three rating. I had to steer him to a chair after I suggested I try to get him any identification, Alvi. I've got an idea. He hates his name. Say we got him identification pursuant to legal name change. We could convince the court to accept several thousand respectable people who know and respect him as initial identification?

Ooh, you're going to get me in trouble, Mir. I'll probably get a pat on the back. So, what name does Loadman Frain want? I have to put something on this line.

Anything that doesn't sound like his mother read it off a piece of hospital equipment.

Oh, ouch. Hang on a sec. I've got the comp doing a random sampling. Ugh. Try again. That's one. No, not that. Not that one either. Oh, it's too good. Mir, how does Drake Baker sound to you?

A lot more like broad shoulders, long brown hair and big, beautiful blue eyes than Loadman Frain.

Date of birth?

Two ninety-seven, twenty-two.

Mir, how did you get him to give you that?

You just asked for a date of birth, Alvi. I gave you one. I'm sure there were people born that day. It's my little brothers' birthday plus twelve years.

I'm sure he's older than thirty.

Probably, but that's a reasonable age for a tech three and this close gives me an excuse to give him a birthday present. I'm sure he's wearing his best ship suit because he was looking for a ride to somewhere. He sews well. Even the patches on the patches are neat.

That's it! Donner gets told off!

Alvi, don't mention him.

Of course not. I'll get twenty university professors and medical professionals to write long papers on the emotional trauma caused by the shit they add onto standard identification and drop the stack of hard copy on old Judge Willert's desk. She'll love it. You're about to get a copy of the court action on the petition and a standard identification form. Mir, I need a retinal scan for this to be marginally legal. Tell him no one is going to check it against existing records and it will come up as Drake Baker after this.

Hold on, Alvi. Comm to galley. Frain, the court approved your name change. Trust me and the judge to make sure the only place it goes is in a nice clean file and look into a screen for a ret scan. The judge has to have one on record, but she doesn't have to do a search on it.

Frain stared at the slice he'd just put in his thumb, laid down the peeler and apple and looked into the cam. The light flash of the ret scan was too fast to see, but he had afterimages. He told himself there couldn't be any previous records of his retinal pattern. There'd been nothing left of the place he'd spent fourteen years, when the iso-bubble had dumped him, naked and shivering, onto a pile of rubble, when its power source failed.

Mirist ran for the galley. The computer had called for aid for the person there. She grabbed the aid kit off the rack by the door and dropped to her knees beside 'Drake.' The bloody cut wasn't why he was unconscious and she knew it, but it needed treatment. She was bandaging it when he opened his big blue eyes and blinked at her.

You did it then fainted?

There really is a first time for everything. I was going to sit down. I don't seem to have made it.

I won't tell, Drake.

Drake who?

Drake you. I didn't ask a random selection of what when she said she was doing one. Your identification, Drake Baker, courtesy of the Cluster Superior Court. Now, if you promise to slice apples and not yourself, I'm going to get Drake Baker a tech three rating based on Loadman Frain's known skills and work on ships.

Drake Baker. I like it. It may take me a half-year to remember to answer to it, but I do like it. Identification, legal and mine. I walked up to a ship captain and she was an angel in disguise. Or maybe a genie. I'll be careful not to make any more wishes. I'm sure I've gotten my three.

You earned the good wishes of a great many people. I just figured a way to grant theirs for you. Whatever the reason you need a separation from the past, I know it's not because you hurt someone, in any fashion. So do my old party buddies, the superior court judge and the Traders' Association credentialing officer. We haven't been bad girls together in years. See? I knew you were going to get me in trouble I'd like.

Do you lock your bedroom door, Captain?

What?!

I've wanted to make love with you since I first saw your smile. I'm very sure you're the most beautiful woman I ever met and it's going to break my heart when you pat me on the ass, call me 'kid' and tell me to go watch out for your little brothers. Can I come visit? If I leave the door to the rooms you gave me open, will you know it's an invitation?

You're cute, kid. I just might take you up on the invitation. What am I saying? Of course I'll take you up on it. And hope you leave a door open when you come to visit and you do it often. I need to go to the portal station for a couple hours. I can do this by comm, but it'll be easier if I go there. Besides, I finally got an idea for a birthday present for my brothers.

Kiss me before you go, Captain Angel.

Mirist kissed him and was stunned. His kiss was passionate and sincere. It was also quite inexpert. His wry smile said he knew it.

A bum is just a bum. A guest or a tech may make love to a beautiful captain. A bum must not. It's the one type of companionship on a journey a bum must not offer. We both know that doesn't mean it never happens. I know when it does, the bum never bums again. It would hurt too much if the bum learned the captain had told friends to offer a ride for a good roll. Loadman Frain would have never kissed you. Drake Baker isn't going to be a bum. He's riding with a captain friend, and two very young men who are about to become captains, to a new cluster. The ride is a mutual favor between friends. He's not needed as crew, but the captain thinks the very young men need a man a bit older to lean on just for moral support for their first journey. Please, Captain Mirist. Let me not be a bum this journey.

Yonder Girl! Replace the name Loadman Frain with Drake Baker in all files. Drake Baker is a personal guest and a good friend. He is also a terrific cook and an excellent ship tech. I will enter his license number in record in case I decide to impose on his good nature and yell for him to fix something besides dinner. Log his hours on anything he does while aboard that is applicable to second officer's license qualification. Comm to loading dock for Taval.

Taval. Yes, Mir?

I need to make a fast run to the portal, Tav. A couple hours should do it.

Crandall runs a shuttle every two. One leaves in about ten.

Tell them I'm running for it and beg them to wait for me. Get me a guide through that monster to wherever it's boarding.

Personnel dock two is just beyond the inner hatch and a fifty meter dash down the corridor. I'll tell them you're coming, Mir, but do dash. They run a tight schedule on portal docking.

I'm in the galley and about to find out how good I've stayed in shape. Done by dinner?

No, but we're going to take a break in three, then get back to it. About five more after that. Move it, Mir.

I'm moving.

He watched his own personal angel run out of the galley and went back to work. He suddenly started to giggle and sat down at the table. He was practicing saying, Hi, I'm Drake Baker. in his mind, over and over, and over. Then he remembered the kiss and shivered. Patience wouldn't be easy, but he'd manage. He didn't plan to tell her, but she would probably know he'd never made love.

He smiled and read his legal identification again, and began to giggle again. He hadn't even noticed there was a birth date on it before. She'd probably had to think fast and it was the one she'd been thinking about. He noticed he was about to turn thirty and giggled some more.

Mir yelled for both her brothers as she ran across the dock. They 'chased' her to the personnel shuttle boarding area. She was almost too out of breath to talk, but managed a very fast brief on the mischief she was getting into. She got a double hug and promise they'd make sure Drake was sure they'd like to have him along their first journey. They watched her board the shuttle, then grinned at each other.

She decided we needed a big brother and he needed a family, Tal.

She decided he's been through Hell and it was time he got out of purgatory too.

And having a very good time making sure he does.

Definitely. Probably always wanted to pull a few strings and this is the first good reason she's ever had. It's a great memory to leave her two best girlfriends with as their last of Captain Miss. One more bit of mischief for a good reason for the three of them to giggle over and tell no one else about.

Except us. Nice she included us in it.

Yes, Tav, it is. Let's get back in there. Very young about-to-be trader captains are expected to hover over their first delicate cargo.

Besides which, there's only one way to fit it in the hold and assure nothing can shift and we're the ones who spent six days on a comp figuring it out. I'd hate to waste all that work because one of the loading crew got tired and read a number wrong.

I'm getting tired too.

That's why there are two of us, Tal. When we get really tired, we're still one really alert person. Plans?

A mention Loadman Frain isn't bumming with us after all and a wide grin?

Yonder Girl is designed to operate best with a crew of three and the current captain is retiring. Tal, you know what she plans to do on this journey.

Pack. Ow.

This is very different than what we had to do. She's passing this dream to us and beginning a new one. Shit!

MALLON! Other end up!

Mirist ran through the main transshipment station for the world of Camaire and stuck her head in the captain's lounge. She yelled, Every captain who's sure Loadman Frain has the hours and skills to be a tech three to the Traders' Association office with me now! The lounge emptied behind her.

A brand-new lowly tech six spun and hit a comm panel. She called her new captain and told her a dozen people with stars on their collars had just run by her and into the Trader's Association. She giggled when the ship computer told her the captain had left the ship and asked if she wanted to speak to someone else. She wasn't the only member of a crew who commed a captain. Mirist grinned at her friend Juna Trailan, while her office filled.

Juna, we're here to offer personal knowledge, in lieu of ship logs, that Loadman Frain has the hours and skills to qualify for a tech three rating.

Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four. Everyone hear why you're here? Now does everyone know why you're here? All right. All who agree say yes.

Juna smiled when she got a loudly shouted chorus of affirmation and held up a licensing form for Ship Tech Three. It was the highest tech rating. Officially, a tech two was Engineer and a one was Chief Engineer. Tech three was where one decided to become an engineering officer or a bridge officer. She was as sure as the captains that Loadman Frain deserved the choice. The captains cheered and began to file out. They knew Captain Miss and Juna were old friends and the captain was leaving. They'd give them time together.

You made it just under the wire, Mirist. The main licensing office closes in ten.

I know, Juna. Wait. The name is Drake Baker.

What?

He just got a legal name change courtesy of a particular judge who plans on doing something about the shit Donner puts on standard identification.

I like it. It certainly suits that pretty man more than Loadman Frain.

Very quiet, Juna. He's going to Arizona Cluster with us and will be crew for the boys. He really wants to leave the past behind. He told me Drake Baker wasn't going to be a bum and asked me for a kiss. He may have kissed someone before.

Bums don't play with ship crews and he's been one since he looked old enough to get on a ship.

My opinion exactly. Birthday eight days from today and he'll be thirty.

Ten year renewal date and he got it just before his birthday, which is what Interstellar Licensing asks. You, me and Alvi, up to mischief once more.

Makes me feel great. I'll send a message when I know where, Juna. Grab Alvi and take a quarter-year. Come see me.

We're both due a sabbatical. We'll come. That's it. It's in and here's his ident plate. I'm off in ten?

Find me at Lomar's. I'm shopping for a birthday present or six.

Be there.

Mirist looked at ship suits and sighed. Nothing that fit his shoulders would fit the rest of him. A call to the comm surprised her. Juna told her she'd been about to walk out the door, then realized she had one more piece of information she needed for the records. She asked Mirist for an estimate and she burst into laughter. She knew the answer, exactly. Juna laughed when she told her how many cens short Drake Baker was and how he'd put it when she had asked. Less than three minutes later, Juna walked into the store and looked at the ship suits Mirist was sorting through.

Are you buying the store?

Currently, I'm just making a mess of their neat racks. Our friend Drake has shoulders about this wide and ship suit makers are sure that wide only come on men two meters tall. He could hem them, I'm sure, but that wouldn't do a thing for the fact the waistline would be at his hips. Another ident plate?

Word spread fast. I got four comm messages in the first five after you left my office. Vandra, Camir, Loslo and Grentris dumped hours of logs in my comp.

Engineer!

Yes, and he can convert to second with thirty-two hours of bridge duty, if it includes five of port procedure.

You look smug. You've done something that you're sure I'll like and have an idea.

"I entered legal name change and replaced the old one in all the logs they downloaded. The idea is that one is his birthday present. I figured it out carefully, Mir. He can pull down enough hours on the trip you're making to make Chief Engineer or First Officer. That's not going to work. None of them are. Tralan! We're leaving