Chapter 8

" ... to answer those questions," President Arabella Aquino told the assembled reporters and camera crews, "I'll call upon the man in charge, Commodore of Earth Union Space Forces, Grand Admiral Colin McClintock."

She gestured to where her MI told her he was waiting, and a mutter of confusion ran through the news people when it appeared that the guest of honor was a no-show. Once more, Colin relied on the effect of his c-thru to make his entrance more dramatic, and as he appeared, seemingly out of thin air, the mutter swelled to a storm as questions flew at him from all directions.

Colin held up his hand, and like magic, the noise died. Reporters were still shouting, and photographers were still jockeying for position to get their shots, but it was as if someone had pressed an invisible 'Mute' button. Colin waited for the shock of the silence to take effect as he removed his armor and stood before them in a tailored uniform of steel gray, his chest bare of ribbons or other insignia. The collar of the uniform tunic bore the insignia given him by the President on behalf of the Security Council, and from a pouch in his armor, he drew the ridiculously garish hat with it's load of 'scrambled eggs', and placed it carefully upon his head.

Noting that the crowd had stopped trying to shout all at once, he stepped forward, shunning the podium and its microphone, and said quietly, "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I will try to answer your questions to the best of my ability. Be aware, however, that some parts of our planning are not for public consumption. Just as we prudently gather intelligence about our enemies, we don't want to take the chance that they are doing the same with us. First question..."

Colin pointed at a reporter for a small news outlet that his MI assured him had a reputation for no nonsense investigative journalism that went far deeper than what could be gleaned at news conferences. "Ms. Newton?"

"I have two questions, Commodore," the black woman said. "First: Don't you think these 'Grand Admiral' and 'Commodore of Earth Union Space Forces' labels are somewhat pretentious?"

"Yes, I do," Colin smiled, without elaborating, "and your second question?"

"How long before we can expect to see these 'Gorz' that have been in the news so much lately in our skies?" Ms. Newton returned his smile but decided to move on to more important matter.

"If anyone ever sees the Gorz fleet in the skies above Earth, I will have failed at my job," Colin replied grimly, "but to answer the question I believe you meant to ask, at their current rate of travel through space, if their course and speed remain constant, the mathematics says they will arrive in this system in just under ninety-six years. We expect, however, that they will make at least one stop along the way. Our estimates of the capabilities of the race we expect them to conquer during that stop suggest that it will take the Gorz anywhere from two to five years to conquer them and be on their way again. Calculating necessary acceleration and deceleration times, that will delay them about three to six years. Considering all of these factors, and ignoring our own plans for the Gorz, that would put them in Earth orbit in just over a hundred years."

Colin pointed to another reporter. "Mr. Maliki."

"What plans do you have for dealing with this enemy. We have seen the recordings of their attack on the Chofri. Can we, too, expect to be at war for twenty or thirty years?"

"I won't go into specifics, but we don't expect to require that long to defeat the Gorz," Colin answered. "However, we cannot forget the lesson of Chofri, so we are taking steps to ensure that, if the war should take longer than we anticipate, we will be better prepared than the Chofri. We have already secured other star systems from which to mine materials for keeping our fleet repaired and supplied, and will soon begin colonizing other planets. This will ensure that we have other bases and sources of food and material, and, should we, too, underestimate the enemy, will help to ensure the survival of our race. The Gorz, being restricted to sub-light travel, cannot take advantage of a widely dispersed supply structure. They are restricted to the resources of a single system. This should give us a tremendous advantage, especially if we can deny them even a single system from which to re supply their fleet."

"How do you intend to do that?"

"I won't go into specifics," Colin answered, "but if we engage them in open space, between systems, we should be able to remove at least one of the advantages they had over the Chofri."

Colin pointed to another figure in the crowd, "Ms. diSanto?"

"You mentioned colonizing other planets: Have you discovered other planets suitable for human habitation?"

"There is a ship leaving for Bates' World this week. We are still investigating other possible candidates."

"Bates' World? Where is Bates' world?"

"I could give you the navigation coordinates," Colin answered, smiling, "but then I'd have to shoot you. Seriously, Bates' World is a small, earthlike planet with no indigenous fauna. It's light on metals so the colonists will have to take supplements until the soil where there crops are grown can be enriched with appropriate minerals, but in a few years, with hard work, the colony will become self-sustaining."

"How did this Bates' World get its name?" another reporter asked.

"We have been considering a number of planets discovered by our explorers. This particular one had only a numerical designation which was hard to remember. Since it was discovered by a pilot named Bates, we started calling it Bates' World, and the name stuck."

Phantom one this is Mother Ghost, do you read?

Roger, Mom, Moira answered, happy for the interruption of her introspective thoughts. Read you loud and clear. Phantom Two, look sharp, Mommy's coming.

Roger One, the other pilot answered, sounding relieved. Not that this isn't a very interesting bit of nothing out here, but TV reception is terrible.

We are in close enough proximity to the mothership's mass to use the ID drive, the shuttle's MI told her, shall I commence docking maneuvers?

What do you say, Mom? Moira asked, Can we come home now?

Roger Phantom flight. The key's under the mat. Don't forget to wipe your feet!

What does this mean? Dolores asked, puzzled. I understand the words, but they seem to have no relevance to our current situation.

Moira laughed at the MI's confusion. Let's get lined up and I'll try to explain, Dolores.

Phantom Two, this is One, Mom says we can come home. You go first and I'll follow, she told the other shuttle.

Roger, One. I think I'll just fly this thing to the shower. Man, I don't see how those recon guys do it, drifting around in just their suits for days.

That's why there aren't that many of them, Two, Moira said. It takes a special kind of insanity to be able handle it.

Correction, Dolores told her. Certainly, a particular psychological profile is required, but those who possess that profile are not within the parameters that we consider insane. Will you explain your use of this term in this context when you explain the reference to keys and mats?

I'll try, Moira laughed. Are you familiar with the concept of 'metaphor'?

Of course.

Well, the 'key' and 'mat' references, as well as the admonition to 'wipe our feet' are a metaphorical reference to the practice of entering a house. In the last century, it was common practice to leave a key for the door to the house under the doormat. It was also considered common courtesy to wipe one's feet on that doormat to remove any dirt before entering the house.

Ah! So this is a humorous analogy?

Why, yes it is, Dolores, Moira answered.

But I still don't understand the reference to Reconnaissance personnel as 'insane'. Is this, too, a metaphor?

This is another form of humor employing exaggeration, Moira said. I'm not exactly an expert on the subject. I mean, it's not something we humans are taught. We simply learn it from our experience. We embellish, exaggerate, or distort things to create humor, often out of things or events that are not, inherently, humorous.

I see. I do not think I shall ever understand humor, but thank you for explaining.

"Excuse me sir," a young woman said, tugging at his sleeve. She couldn't have been more than twenty, and was accompanied by an equally young, and even more nervous man. "Aren't you Grand Admiral McClintock?"

Colin grimaced at the use of the ridiculous rank, but decided that he'd better get used to it.

"Please," he replied, "call me Colin. What can I do for you?"

"I understand that you're accompanying us to Bates' World..."

"I am," Colin answered.

"Well, my fiancee and I got so busy getting everything ready for the trip that we didn't have time to get married," the woman continued in an accent that had to be from India or Pakistan. "It is my understanding that a ship's captain can perform weddings. Is this true?"

"Technically," Colin replied, "that particular maritime custom has not yet been tested for space-faring craft, and while I will be the senior officer aboard, I am not, in fact, the ship's captain."

He watched the young lady's face fall, as well as that of her pale-complexioned, yellow-haired lover.

"All of that said, however," he continued, taking pity on them, "you are going to a new planet whose laws have yet to be established, and I'd be willing to bet that they would honor a wedding performed in transit to join a couple of their new citizens. Furthermore, I would guess that they would not be too particular about who performed the service."

"Do you really think so?" the young man asked, his face fairly glowing with renewed hope.

"Yes I do," Colin smiled, "and my MI informs me that the MIs to be implanted in those chosen as planetary leaders will have your marriage recorded as official. Why don't you meet me in the dining room of the transport, shall we say, two hours after leaving orbit?"

Rover, this is Mother Ghost, do you read?

Mother Ghost this is Rover One, Pham replied, relieved to finally hear from the pickup ship. Drifting for days in an endless void, no matter how disciplined your mind, can lead to all kinds of thoughts, including insidious ideas about abandonment. It's about time you showed up!