Chameleon Ch 39

Jackson swallowed his heart.

“I’ve been to your ship! It's me, Jaakub, Kellaam and Quinaal’s son. Remember?” He did. He remembered as if it were yesterday. “I’m a little taller now,” the man joked. Tom couldn’t find the words he wanted to say. He didn’t know what words he wanted to say. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

He took a couple steps back and shoved his hand through his hair before slapping it to his mouth. A huge, invisible claw reached around his chest and squeezed his lungs so tight he couldn’t breathe.

“Jake? Jaakub?”

“Mother said you’d come back one day, and here you are! You seemed familiar but we get so many aliens here now, a lot of humans, so I’d given up looking for you.”

“You were looking…for… for me?”

“Not exactly, but when a human ship would come the last couple years, I kept an eye on the people who got off. Come in,” Jake said, smiling and rushing to the antique, wooden door of the cottage. “I didn’t change much,” he said, waving at the personal effects on the shelves and walls. “Sit down, sit down,” he insisted with wide eyes and an even wider smile.

As Tom sat, he nearly missed the small divan, and stumbled backwards against a table, knocking a lantern onto the floor. He picked it up quickly, thankful it was not lit, and placed it back on the table.

“It’s just as I remember,” he said with vague wonder. On the shelves of one wall, glass jars stood at attention in straight rows, each with its hoard of precious metals, minerals, crystals, and powders sealed against the elements with a tight stopper.

“It was when the nuclear plant was bombed by the Pegasi! That was the day my father was killed,” Jake said, suddenly sorrowful, a wistful gaze on his face.

“Girls, why don’t you go out back,” he told them. They stood fidgeting, anticipating instructions since they didn’t understand any language besides English. “Through the cook room. Don’t go too far.” Zalara skipped out with her tall, blonde shadow nipping her heels.

“I’m sorry to hear your mother died.”

“After you left, and accepted that my father was dead, things got harder. She never really recovered, and I took good care of her, like you told me to, but it wasn’t enough. She was sad a lot, and she wore herself out.” Jake sat next to Tom and they stared at each other for a few moments. His face brightened in the light of new memory. “She talked about you sometimes, about the stars, and life around other stars.”

“Aliens were unheard of back then.”

“Can I go up to your ship again? I would love to see it.”

“It’s a different ship, but, sure, that’d be okay.” Tom kept staring at the young man, a boy approaching nineteen or twenty by now. He was tall, and lean, a carbon copy of his mother with dark, wavy hair to his shoulders, and the same pale shade of cinnamon on his round face, arms, and long-fingered hands.

“The radio, you wanted to talk about my radio. Let me get you something,” he popped up and darted into the kitchen chamber; Tom followed. The same hand-crafted table, made of hard wood and iron fasteners, stood in the far corner, covered by several containers of electronic parts and assorted tools used by an electrical engineer.

“Looks like you have enough parts to make a radar right here,” Tom said. He was surprised to find a smile on his own face.

“I have cider, and spring water, or silver bark tea. I live alone so I don’t have much on hand for visitors. Sorry about my lack of everything.”

“Cider sounds great. Um, so, you work at the power plant, like your dad?”

“I’m not a chemist. I monitor the power needs and open and close buses to meet demand or conserve kilowatts. Not much need at night when everyone’s asleep.”

“What made you build a radar?”

“I remember when you took me to see the Pegasi.”

“That was a long time ago. You’d never seen green people before.”

“They come and go a lot, collecting stray gamma rays to harden their stupid junk crystals. I started to learn more about the whole process, and wondered what they were doing with the contaminated coolant.”

“They were putting it in orbit.”

“Yes, in special containers with tiny thrusters. They run on the energy from the decaying radioactive material.”

“They took it up on a shuttle or sent it up by rocket?” Tom asked. Jake set a copper drinking vessel on the table and uncorked a bottle of orange, fizzy liquid. He filled Tom’s cup and then made one for himself.

“Much less money to take it on a shuttle, and less attention.”

“Cheap bastards,” Tom muttered. “They don’t care about risk or harm, only about making money.”

“No one was paying any attention, so I thought I’d track them with ultra-long radio waves.” Tom nodded, remembering the boy had an unnatural attraction to the technology in the Linus Pauling’s shuttle craft.

“Two of them hit my ship. Seems there’s a magnetic attraction to our engine emissions.”

“That’s what I found on my radar. An explosion, and then another one, smaller, at least that’s what I think it is; thought it was. I have my tracker on it still. It must be hitting your ship, my radio waves.”

The two of them drank together, silent in private thoughts. Tom couldn’t help but think of Quinaal, despite Rianya and her condition. The cottage vibrated with her essence still, a warm affection for life, nature, and for him.

“It’s dangerous,” Tom said, crafting his words separate from his thoughts. “Those things should be sent into the star. I don’t know why there’s any waste to begin with. There shouldn’t be with a thorium, neutron bombardment system.”

“I don’t know how, or where it comes from, but they call it low-level contaminants.”

“What hit my ship wasn’t low level. Two of my men were killed, three more terrorized, my ship lost its dock and airlock, the mess hall. Two decks were compromised.”

“That’s a tragedy,” Jake said. He looked into his cup of cider and took another drink. Tom had pushed thoughts of Jules and Clayton aside, not for lack of respect or honor, but because when his plate was full, he had of offload anything he had no control over. He’d deal with it after they had left orbit, after Mills had taken care of the details and submitted paperwork to Stone.

“As soon as repairs are done, we’re leaving orbit. I still need to file a report with the Terra Ceti authority. I wish I could visit longer.”

“Tonight is the last night of the festival, so I will need to be at my station when the power comes on at dawn.” Jake yawned. “I’d like to visit now but I’m usually asleep this time of day.”

“I’d like to take you to the ship, but I just realized that the next flight up is the last,” Tom said. The man’s shoulders fell several centimeters. “I’m sorry. We don’t have time and energy for another three trips.”

“Can you come by at dusk, and we can spend the last night of the festival, here, before I take my shift?”

“That’s very generous. I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s the least I can do for you after what happened to your ship. And I know if my mother were here she’d want me to offer hospitality.”

“We’ve already left the rooming house.”

“If you aren’t opposed you can stay here. I told you, I live alone. It would be nice to have company.”

“I think we can stay through dinner.” Tom didn’t want to break this fragile thread that connected him with Quinaal, the end of a twenty-year love affair with an angel.

“Excellent.” Jake’s face lit up with delight. “Come at sundown,” he told Tom. Calling the girls in from the rear yard, he set his cup gently on the table. “I wish I wasn’t as tired as I am. I’m thrilled to see you. I wish I’d known. I would have made arrangements.”

“This was a wonderful surprise, Jake. I never expected to run into you.” The two girls bounded in, Zalara’s chestnut mop like her mother’s mane of hair, and Honey’s golden locks bouncing like springs. “We’ll come back for dinner,” he told them. After a couple delighted squeals Zalara skipped to the main room, but Honey remained just a moment longer, smiling at Jake with a flicker in her eyes that Tom had seen in Rianya’s eyes now and then.

“I’m glad,” Jake said. The girl danced off in a fit of sudden shyness. Tom chuckled and shook his head. Before they left the cottage, Tom reached around Jake and pulled him into a hug. The Cetians were touchy-feely, friendly people, and for Tom this boy was his last connection to a more carefree time in his life, before a crippled ship changed his fate with Rianya, Zalara, and the Maria Mitchell. He broke off quickly and herded the girls back toward the town center.

“Bye!” The girls waved and shouted, in English of course, communicating in a way only elementary school aged girls could understand. Tom smiled and turned to give offer Jake an apologetic grin. And at that moment, he could have sworn that the person in the doorway was Quinaal.