THIS STORY IS PART OF THE
FOR SEPTEMBER, 2012
VISIT THEM AND READ SOME OF THE OTHER ENTRIES!
As relief from the serious tone of the last few posts, I thought I would introduce everybody to my unfinished novel, "The Man Who Found Birds among the Stars." It's a fictionalized biography of Capt. Robbin Nikalishin, the starship Captain who made the first contact with extraterrestrials in the 28th century (some 2.5 centuries before the time of "The Termite Queen"). I already posted the Prologue to that book, which you can read here. I've had almost 50 pageviews on that post, and I hope some of you enjoyed it.
You will find that the style of this book is entirely different from any of my previous books. I attempted to make it much more colloquial and profane. "The Termite Queen" deals with highly educated characters who speak good English and so the tone is fairly literary (with Shakespearean overtones when the termites are on scene), and in "The Labors of Ki'shto'ba Huge-Head" series, my termites tend to be speak with great formality (it's just the way they are). But MWFB lends itself to a more informal treatment.
I present here the first chapter of the book. Bear in mind that it's a WIP and I reserve the right to change anything about it if I want to! Next month I'll post Chapter 2
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| I decided to risk posting one of my character drawings. Wonder why I left off his left ear? |
Chapter 1: The Captain Eats Crow
(20 July 2766, Old Heathero Flight Port,
Islands of Britan)
Minie was heading into the bathroom with an armload of clothes when her
companion exclaimed, “Here, you forgot this!”
Something flopped against her back.
Turning around, she surveyed at the man who stood beside the bed, then
stooped to pick up her breastie off the floor.
“Gaw, Robbie, you’re such a whizzer.”
Grinning playfully, her companion hitched up his pants and secured the
fly. “Aw, Minie, you ought to know by
now what a perfect British gentleman Capt. Nikalishin is.”
She rolled a humorous
eye. “Is that what your consort thought,
duck?”
“Hell, I’ve decided I never really knew what she thought.”
Minie giggled and vanished into the bathroom. Whisking an undershirt out of a drawer, the
Captain pulled it over his head, then moved to the mirror to begin
shaving. With the shaver humming in his
ear, he inspected his beardless face with the usual pang of regret. His beard had been getting grizzled and
Fedaylia hadn’t liked that … Why would a
man’s beard begin to turn gray before he was 35, while his hair stayed as black
as when he was 20?
But the truth of the matter was, it was the beard itself, grizzled or
not, that Fedaylia hadn’t liked.
Tricking him into shaving it had only been another way to dominate him …
Robbie preferred the mask of a beard because he hated his chin. It was contoured wrong – too soft, too short –
and that damn dimple … And while his
nose had a decent bridge – he had never objected to his nose – it was
proportionately too large to fit with that chin …
… although women seemed to like the dimple … Minie would twist a fingertip in it and make
baby noises – and Fedaylia had done something like that, too, although she
tended to jab with a fingernail …
Hostel rooms didn’t include direct com links, so after finishing his
shave, Robbie rang up the central desk.
“Capt. Nikalishin here, Ellen. Any
messages for me?”
“Just one … ” For a moment his gut
lurched. Maybe it was Fedaylia – she
could certainly find out where he was if she wanted to…
As usual, he was disappointed. “ …
from the Assignment Office. No orders
for you today, Robbie, but you’re to pay a visit to Maj. Nwinn at 1100h
tomorrow.”
Annoyed with himself, Robbin Nikalishin thanked the hostel manager and
deactivated the com. Why could he never
stop expecting Feddie to contact him?
Dammit, that was over, had been over for almost five months, and he had
been forced to find solace with a girl like Minie – not that he wanted to
belittle Minie – that wouldn’t be fair.
She had a kind heart and, after all, in his present state of disgrace,
he himself was no prize …
But still no flight orders – that was odd. He had finally made stand-by shuttle
commander a couple of weeks before and he had flown the maximum six missions
during that time without any problems, but now for the last three days, nothing. He couldn’t think of anything he had done to
mess up his status again …
Minie emerged from the bathroom, threading the ribbons of her tunic
blouse. Coincidentally reflecting his
thoughts, she said, “Are they sending you to the moon today?”
“It seems not – I’ve got orders to report in tomorrow. Want to get some breakfast, or are you too
hung over?”
“Come on, all I had last night was a couple of beers. … It’s
hot as a laser today. Why don’t you just
leave your jacket here and go down in your shirtsleeves?”
“Because an officer in Earth Space Command needs to look the part.”
“Clothes won’t turn you back into a hero, Robbie Red-Breast.”
“No, but they can help a man remember who he is, or who he should be.”
Sloe Hostel’s dining room was crowded with the Provisional Ensigns and
non-coms who denned within Old Heathero Flight Port’s transitional
residences. The food was displayed on a
counter along the back, dished up by youthful attendants. Mother-henning them was a plumpish woman
about forty years of age.
“Well, there’s my black-eyed Capt. Robbie!” she said as Nikalishin and
his companion slapped down their trays.
“I swear, you look good enough to kiss!”
He leaned over to peck the woman on the lips as Minie said, “Don’t you be
trying to steal him away from me, Wilda!
He’s mine, at least for a while.”
“Don’t worry, Minie – Capt. Robbie‘s heart is his own, to do with as he
will.”
Nikalishin laughed and touched Wilda’s cheek with a fingertip. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye,
he turned to an open-mouthed attendant.
“Are you just going to stand there gawking at me flirting with your
boss, or can I get a scoop of that scramble?
Uh-h-h – looks nastier than usual … ”
Wilda watched the Captain and Minie head for the only available seating,
at a table already occupied by a couple of callow-looking Prov-Ens. At the sight of the pair of gold bars on
Nikalishin’s collar, they jumped hastily to their feet.
“At ease, Cadets,” said Robbie.
“This is breakfast, not a dress parade.”
They all sat down, but the youths were staring at the name on the
Captain’s pocket flap. “Uh … uh … ” one
of them spluttered, and the other croaked, “Blimey! Capt. Nikalishin! I’d heard he – you – was based here at Old
Heathero, but … ”
“You better swallow some of that coffee, Mister,” said Robbie. “You look like you’d seen a ghost, and here I
thought I was still alive. And by the
way, it’s Nik-a-LEESH-in, not Ni-KAHL-ish-in.
That way, it sounds like a drunken man trying to say ‘colic.’”
The Cadet had turned as red as the trim on his uniform, then when Robbie
said, “What wing are you assigned to, Ensign?” he went white.
“Holy grief, man, don’t faint on me!
You think I’m going to put you on report for pronouncing my name a bit
off? Believe me, there’s nobody on the
Board of Discipline who would care! I
only asked about your assignment out of curiosity about why young chaps like
you get into the space game these days.
Besides, breakfast goes better with conversation. Takes the mind off the plasti-scramble.”
Back at the counter, Wilda said, “Watch it, clumsy!” as the gawking
attendant let a spoonful of egg drop on the floor.
“Ms. Murchy, is that really Robbin Nikalishin? The
Capt. Nikalishin?”
“Kinda surprised you, huh? Earth’s
most famous hero … Yes, he’s lived here
in Sloe about three months now.”
“What was it they called those first interstellar flyers? Starpiercers?”
“No, Starchasers. The Seven
Starchasers. SkyPiercer was the name of
the project.”
”Yeah, that was it … But why would
a famous man like that be living here among all these bottom-feeders?”
“Ravi, I know your family just moved to Britan, but I thought the whole
world knew about what happened. There
certainly was enough publicity.”
“Oh, I think I’m remembering – something really scandalous – like, he was
drunk on the Bridge of his ship and punched an Admiral in the nose.”
“It was a Commodore. But there’s a
good deal more meat to it than that, of course.”
“How come he kissed you, Ms. Murchy?”
Wilda chuckled. “Oh, Capt. Robbie
and I go way back. I’ve been working in
Food Service here on this Base since he
was a Cadet. We had a bit of a fling
once.” She heaved a humorously
exaggerated sigh. “We’re just really
old, good friends now. That can be nicer
than lovers, you know. But you may be
too young to understand that.”
“Well, there’s something else I don’t understand – how come he’s still
got his Captain’s bars? They must have
court-martialed him, so was he acquitted?”
“Actually, it never got to the point of a real trial, because he pleaded
guilty.”
“Then why wasn’t he demoted or discharged or something?”
“Well, just think who he is, Ravi!
One of the original Seven Starchasers, like I said! And how many people exist who have ever commanded
one of those sausage-casing ships that can fly beyond the solar system? It’s four, that’s what it is, including Capt.
Robbie. And how many of those understand
the technology – all that time/light/pod/fold/quanty gobbledygook – as well as
he does? I think maybe one, and she’s
retired! So that makes him too
valuable to just kick back into civilian life.”
“But he must have gotten some kind of punishment.”
“That’s why he’s living in Sloe.
They sentenced him to a year of confinement within the perimeter of Old
Heathero, on a Prov-En’s pay, with no officer’s privileges. He lost his Mars command and was put to serving
on Lunar cargo shuttles. It could have
been worse by a long shot, but still it was a pretty deep humiliation … Ravi, will you pay attention to your job? Here this P. O.’s waiting, and the scramble
pan’s empty, and you’re just standing there!”
“Your fault, Ms. Murchy,” the young Inden dared to say, grinning as he
disappeared into the kitchen.
NEXT TIME:
A FLASHBACK TO THE BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD OF CAPT. ROBBIE
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