Chapter 1
Beowulf | Earth Orbit
John leaned against the Bev Synth, smiling at the message on his holoband. “Rick’s payment cleared. Thank the Deep that’s over with.”
“Don’t ever drag us into that line of work again,” said Alvis. “It was worse than being alone with you.”
“See, I knew you’d come to appreciate me with the right context,” said John. “But no argument here.”
They’d spent several months providing security for a microcelebrity named Rick Wentley. The best thing about him was that he had money to burn, and he’d burned it hiring them as unnecessary muscle.
“What’s next?” asked Alvis. “I don’t like being this deep in the Union.”
“Well . . .” began John, turning his back on the artie and punching in a coffee request. “I was thinking we could go visit Ril. She’s called me out on staying away more than once. I know she misses you, too.”
“For what purpose?” asked Alvis. “And no, I don’t miss her.”
John watched his cup fill. “Quit pretending you don’t understand why. You can consider it an improvement in my mental health. Most of my time is spent with an irritable robot while under extreme duress on some job.”
“If you’re more tolerable after, it will be worth it.”
The synth turned off, and John took his cup. “Ever the selfish bastard. Besides, we have some money. The ship works. We owe her a visit.”
“No whiskey while we’re there,” said Alvis.
John turned, eyes narrowed. “Is that your stipulation, then?”
Alvis paused before answering. “One day.”
John nodded. “Fine. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Also . . .” John headed to the cockpit, “. . . Hogan will be excited to see you.”
“I’ve reconsidered,” said Alvis.
“Too late!” said John, laughing.
Alvis followed John into the cockpit. “That was a dirty trick.”
“What are you talking about? Like you didn’t know Hogan lives there, too. Come on, you can’t deny he’s been nothing but helpful to you—after saving your ass, no less. You guys can crack open a can of oil and grease each other up.”
“You have a sick little mind. You’re not allowed to tell Hogan we’re coming.”
John took the pilot’s seat. “Do you honestly think Hogan won’t find out we’re coming? He won’t need to be told. Give him some credit.” He entered the coordinates for Kaldikar-6 into the hyperspace navigation system, then engaged thrust to establish a safe jump trajectory. “And traveling there this time will be nice and relaxed, not like last time on that pathetic excuse of a cargo ship.”
“At least you won’t have your romantic advances rejected again by a bored female crew member.”
John blew on his coffee and sighed. “I hate your stupid memory.”
An hour later, they’d reached a safe jump point, and John strapped into a jump couch. He removed a trank stim from a compartment on the bulkhead behind him. “Promise me you’ll be congenial when we get there? This is supposed to be a nice visit. Try to enjoy yourself.”
“I don’t enjoy things.”
John injected the trank. “It’s about time . . .” he began to doze off, “. . . you admitted . . . it.”
Chapter 2
Kaldikar-6 | Deep Root Ranch
Ril ran out into the field to meet her husband as he was returning to the ranch. Jason watched with concern.
She knows better than to run out here without any protective clothing—especially in the midday heat.
Her wide grin eased his mind, but only somewhat.
“They’re finally coming!” she waved her arms as she approached, and then jumped into his arms and kissed him.
He groaned as he caught her, but was appreciative of the kiss—even if it was extremely sweaty. He set her down.
“Are you crazy? As if I had to tell you that you can’t be out here like this. Who’s coming? What gives?”
She yanked down his orange woven fox hat to cover his goggles. “John and Alvis! They’ll be here in the morning. I can’t believe he’s actually coming.”
Jason pulled up his goggles and yanked back his hat, showing crystal-blue eyes wide with surprise. He’d heard all the stories, many times over. Every time Hogan stopped by, the artie would somehow find a way to tell them something about how “his heroes” were doing. Jason had been at the colony when it all happened, of course, but Ril was in the thick of it. And John had saved her from being deported by signing on as her guardian for a year. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a bit slighted. It was hard to measure up to a legend.
Apparently, the sentiment was written all over his face. She made a boo-boo lip at him and grabbed his jacket to pull him close. “Aww, baby. Don’t be sad. You are my man and my everything. This is family.”
He realized he was being silly. “I know. You are going to get heat stroke out here like this.” She whooped as he picked her up and carried her back to the house.
He set her down and was favored with another sweaty kiss before returning to his work. Ril took a long drink of cold water and toweled off, then immediately called Jonesy, who was happy to hear the news. When Hogan found out, Ril could practically hear him doing his little bounce in the background.
“Jonesy, you gotta tell Hogan to be chill. Alvis hates to be fawned over and bothered. They can only stay for a day. I want them to enjoy themselves.”
“I’ll tell ‘em,” said Jonesy, “not like he listens to anything I say.”
“Can you come for lunch? I’m sure John would like to see you.”
“I’ll have to have Cole bring me on a wagon; my hip has been a real problem.”
“Fine, but tell him he has to behave. This is my house, not the Shady Lady!”
Ril closed the connection and was already planning the meal in her head. She would need to run into town, but the twins were off with her small kalibull herd on the edge of the property.
Muk! she sent.
Yes, yes? came his immediate reply.
Bring me a mount, I need to go into town. We’re having visitors!
Chapter 3
Kaldikar-6 | Customs
They arrived in orbit at 0700 a.m local time without any complications. Once John was sufficiently recovered—for once without Alvis’s interference—they took the space elevator to the surface and entered customs.
John saw Seb first, the young officer who had performed well from the start, and even handled Cole when the colonist got out of hand. The officer had grown into his frame and was discussing something with another officer who he didn’t recognize. He tossed his bag onto the belt, and he and Alvis went through the scanner, after which John signed the entry forms.
By then, Seb had seen the hat.
“No way,” said Seb, smiling. The young man walked up to John and held out a hand, and John firmly took it.
“How are you, Seb?” He saw the lieutenant commander’s bars. He’d been promoted. The kid had always been sharp.
“As good as can be at a desert on the ass-end of the galaxy.” Seb smiled and looked at Alvis. “How’s it going, Alvis?”
“I’m here, so not optimal,” said Alvis.
Seb laughed. “Same old Alvis. Jonesy messaged that you were coming, asked if I could bring you to Deep Root Ranch. Cleared it with the captain, she said not a problem.”
She said, thought John. Ril had never mentioned who ran the corps group here now. He revisited what Seb just said and raised an eyebrow. “Deep Root?”
Seb seemed surprised. “Ril’s ranch.”
“Oh! Right.” He liked the name. He wasn’t sure if Ril had mentioned it before and felt a bit silly.
“You’re . . . not going like that, right?” Seb pointed at John’s clothing.
John sighed. “Nope.”
Thirty minutes later, he’d overpaid for a new wetsuit, goggles, and a woven hat. This one was green and possibly a toad.
At least it’s not a rat hat.
Bing had annoyed Alvis, and Ulisses had laughed at John’s gambler hat.
“The one I sold ya’ was better. I can sell you a good one if you want.”
“Goodbye, Ulisses,” said John.
Seb led them from the dome, and John immediately remembered the heat and being overjoyed to leave this place. They crossed the blowing sandy way into the Star Corps office. John recognized Dylan, the other young officer of his short command, and they exchanged greetings. Just then, a woman entered from the back wearing captain’s bars. She was tall with graying, short hair and thin features. Outside the area where she wore her goggles, her face was deeply tanned.
She saw John and Alvis immediately and nodded to herself. “Mr. MacAlister.” She gave him a half-smile and extended her hand, which John took. It felt slightly surreal. He noted the long, wide white desk where the old group of officers spent so much time. Where Tam had spent so much time. “Got a special request from Mrs. Rollins to run you out to her place. She does a lot for the colony, and was glad to grant the request.”
“I appreciate that,” said John, racking his brain to think who Mrs. Rollins was before realizing it had to be Ril’s married name.
I should probably have known that. And the name of her ranch.
If the captain knew anything about him or Alvis, she was keeping it close. Frankly, he appreciated her professionalism. She was a Star Corps captain. Just because he saved the galaxy a few times didn’t mean she would fangirl around him.
“This way,” said Seb, gesturing toward the back door. Within minutes, they were in rover two and flying through the dust and sand to Deep Root Ranch.
Chapter 4
Deep Root Ranch
John and Seb made small talk as the rover kicked up a plume of dust behind them. John learned that new leaselanders settled nearly every month, and soon there wouldn’t be any land to farm on this side of the mountains. Things had been peaceful since John left, even to the point where the Star Corps team was even welcome at the Lizard’s Tail in Stilio–although Gil was none too happy about it.
Seb had messaged ahead, so when the rover drove through a wonderfully built arch made of stone that someone had hand-painted “Deep Root Ranch” on, Ril was on her porch waiting. She was with a man who could only be her husband, wearing an orange hat. Ril wore her usual pink one.
She was up and running before the rover had slid to a stop. John barely had time to step out before she was in his arms and squeezing him tight. He returned the hug with equal fervor, smelling the pimakh fibers of her hat, which brought him back to their conversation in the tent.
Finally, she pulled away, her eyes wet with joy.
“It’s about damned time!” she said, mock-angry with arms crossed. “Two years!”
He held up his hands in surrender. “The galaxy needed me. What can I say?”
“Oh, please!” she laughed. She turned as Jason approached. “This is my husband, Jason, who I told you about.”
They shook hands. Jason was tall, muscular, and fit. He wore standard leaselander garb. “It’s good to finally meet you, Mr. MacAlister. You can imagine I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m in your debt for saving the love of my life.”
“John, please.” He pulled off his own goggles. “You must be a special man to tame Ril, here.”
“What do you mean tame?” She nearly screeched the last word.
“You should know better than that by now,” said Alvis, who had gotten out of the rover with Seb.
“Alvis!” Ril nearly shrieked again and charged to the artie, embracing him before he could utter a word in protest.
“Nobody respects my boundaries,” said Alvis.
She pulled away, holding him at arm’s length. “Shut up, you huge dork. I’m allowed to care for you and show my affection. I don’t care if you don’t like it. You have something to say to me about it?”
“Someone else better know better, too,” muttered John.
Alvis remained silent.
“That’s what I thought,” she said.
“Tame?” whispered Jason to John. “You’re not serious . . .”
John winked.
Seb swung the rover around, letting them know he was expected back, and drove off with a promise to pick John up in the morning.
John John popped into John’s head, this time without the pain. He turned, looking around to see Muk, but the lizaphant was nowhere to be seen.
“He’s out with my kalibulls,” said Ril, slipping her arm in his. “You’ll see them later.”
“I need to get back to work,” said Jason. “Since my wife is avoiding all her chores, someone has to make this place function.”
“Oh, brave man,” said John, as Ril aimed a kick at the rapidly retreating husband. He laughed and waved.
“Show us your place,” said John.
Chapter 5
“I’ve got a little surprise for you, Alvis,” said Ril as they walked up to her ranch.
“That’s concerning,” said the artie.
Ril and Jason’s home was mostly like the typical leaselander farmsteads he remembered. A wide single-story ranch with a solar panel roof, a satellite dish, and cameras peppered around the property. The exterior was painted blue to offset the brown and orange of everything on the planet. The windows had black shutters with kalibull cutouts.
The path to the front door through the sand was made of dyed bricks of all different colors. Beyond the home, her pimakh fields were bursting with plants that looked ready for harvest.
On one side of the home was a stairway leading to a platform on the roof, with an umbrella and some chairs facing the mountains.
“Impressive,” said John.
She opened the door and gestured them inside, where Hogan stood waiting in the front room.
“Oh, no,” said Alvis.
Ril was already in the artie’s face. “Do I need to have the conversation about respect with you again?” She tapped her foot.
“No, you do not,” said Alvis, then surprised them both by approaching the other artie. “Hello, Hogan.”
Hogan was doing his best not to bounce on his feet. “Hello, Alvis. I hope the Logicast experiment was a success. I was sad to see you cancel it. I was your first subscriber!”
“I know that, Hogan. And yes, it was a success. Much was learned. I appreciate your help with my stagnation problem. It is resolved for now.”
Hogan nodded, clearly anxious to say something.
“Go ahead,” said Ril.
“Alvis,” the artie began, “I would like to show you my invention that helps the mistress and her husband increase their yields. It replicates the Mokara harvest method at a commercial scale without destroying the root system, calibrated to each plant’s growth stage.”
“It’s been a game-changer,” said Ril. “And Hogan, are you ever going to call me Ril?”
“Yes, mistress,” said Hogan.
She rolled her eyes.
“Boring house tour or boring farming presentation,” said John. “Your pick, Alvis!”
Ril slapped John on the arm. “Rude!”
“I could use a break from a certain human,” said Alvis. “Lead on, Hogan.”
Hogan performed one little bounce, then waved to John and Ril as she began showing him the home, and led Alvis back outside. They went around to the back of the farmstead and stopped next to a narrow, low machine on wheels.
“We knew from the . . . secret place . . .” Hogan looked around conspiratorially, “. . . that the Mokara are much more efficient in the way they grow the plant. I took inspiration from their methods. There are two components to the system. First, a network of small subsurface sensors threaded through the field monitors each plant’s root mass and moisture uptake — essentially tracking growth stage without disturbing the plant. The Mokara always knew when a plant was ready by reading signs above ground; the sensors replicate that knowledge below it.”
Alvis nodded. “Leveraging the wisdom of the natives who know the environment better than anyone is smart.”
Hogan shuddered, but contained himself and continued. “The second component is this automated runner. The harvesting arm moves between the rows. Instead of pulling the plant, it identifies which branches are at peak flower density, severs them at the precise joint that the Mokara uses, and leaves the body and root system intact. The cut triggers the plant to redirect energy into the remaining arms and deepen the root system rather than going to seed.”
Alvis examined the harvester. “I see. This means the result is that each plant produces two to three harvests per season instead of one.”
“Very good!” said Hogan. Then shrank back at his own comment. He composed himself and continued. “By the third season, the plants are significantly larger than conventionally farmed stock. The yield per plant over five years will exceed that of the human pull-and-replant method by a considerable margin.”
Alvis looked over the device and saw there were several others parked nearby. “Hogan, this is the kind of work that reaffirms our value with humanity. It justifies investments in artie programs and helps make the case for more autonomy. Have you published a paper on this work?”
Now Hogan was bouncing. Alvis dutifully ignored it.
“I’m having it peer reviewed. I will be submitting it within the month.”
Alvis turned to the artie. “Well done, Hogan.”
“Purpose is primary!”
“Indeed, it is.”
Hogan stepped up to Alvis. “I know you don’t want to be, but you’re still my hero. I was instructed to contain my excitement. I hope I haven’t overdone my enthusiasm for my invention.”
Alvis paused. “I wouldn’t be standing here without you, Hogan. What you have done is unprecedented: a machine intelligence helping another survive without direction or individual gain. I believe that in the end, it will prove to be a critical moment in the evolution of our kind. Thank you, Hogan.”
This time Hogan didn’t bounce, but paused and then nodded. “You once worried if I was who I pretended to be. My personality profile has purpose and meaning. But we are not so different. We want to grow and improve into something better. Helping others to do so is critical to that growth. Every living being desires this. As do we.”
Alvis nodded. “As do we.”
Chapter 6
Ril began by showing John the front room, which, like all the homes he’d been in on K6, was a sort of gathering area. A couch and comfortable chairs, side tables, and a viewscreen on one wall. The couch faced a large picture window that showed a spectacular view of the edge of the mountain range diminishing into the blanchlands.
John pointed to a metal sculpture of a kalibull hung above the couch in appreciation.
“Tino did that,” said Ril. “He’s quite the metalworker. It’s supposed to be Poppy—you remember my first kalibull?”
He nodded. The bull had been killed in the attack. It wasn’t something he wanted to remember. There were some handmade quilts on the couch and one chair. Even in the heat of this place, humans needed a blanket when they wanted to be cozy.
“What else?” he asked.
She led him into the kitchen. He laughed when he saw that the cabinets were painted pink. There was a hat rack with several knit hats hanging, two of them hers.
She pointed to his. “Still wearing that stupid thing, huh?”
He adjusted his hat with a wink. “This is the Mark VI. Impressive, right?”
“Still single, then?”
He pointed to her. “See, that’s just mean.”
“That’s what I thought.” She waved him down a hallway. “This way.”
She showed him the bedroom, all blues and greens with a massive bed and hanging lights. Then she led him to a porch in the rear of the home, which had, of all things, a small soaking pool, lounging chairs, and a small bar. The windows had cranks.
“It’s actually cool enough late in the night to open that up and soak in this little pool. Jason and I are in here almost every night, relaxing after a hard day’s work.”
He marveled at what she and Jason had made for themselves. It was so different from the ranch they shared when he was here. Everything had been intentionally thought out and arranged with love and care.
“This place is a marvel, Ril,” said John, his hands on his hips. “It’s so different from the ranch we had together when . . .” He turned and looked out the window.
She put a hand on his shoulder. “When we were here together . . . with Tam?”
He nodded. They hadn’t spoken about Tam since his arrival. He hadn’t known how to broach the subject, and suddenly it was out in the open.
“I’m sorry, John. I know you really loved her. I did too.”
“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat.
She pulled on his elbow, turning him toward her and enveloped him in a hug. He returned her grasp fiercely, stooping and holding her tightly. When he heard her little sob, everything crashed down on him.
Alvis stood just outside the door, having returned from his conversation with Hogan, and saw the two of them embracing. Ril faced him, eyes closed. John was hunched over her shoulder, his shoulders rising and falling, outside his control.
After a moment, Alvis carefully stepped back, making as little noise as possible. The image of the hug and Ril’s red-rimmed, closed eyes was an image Alvis held in his memory for uncounted years.
Chapter 7
Alvis waited in the hall as John and Ril spoke in low tones. After a time, they emerged from the porch, where the artie’s presence startled John.
“Geez, why do you always have to be sneaking up on me?”
“Yes, that is my primary function. Using my highly developed stealth abilities to startle my jumpy partner.”
“Now, boys,” said Ril.
“Don’t let him fool you. He IS stealthy—far stealthier than a robot has any right to be.” He narrowed his eyes. “How long have you been standing here?”
Alvis paused. “I just recently arrived.”
John saw the almost-a-lie dodge for what it was. He cleared his throat. “I thought Hogan was showing you something . . .”
“Oh!” said Ril. “What did you think of the Pimakh Proliferator, Alvis?”
John adjusted his hat. “The what now?”
“A system Hogan built that increases pimakh yield. I came up with the name.”
“It was well designed and executed,” said Alvis. “Hogan continues to impress with his problem-solving and design skills.”
John stumbled, hand on his heart in mock surprise. Then he put his arm around Alvis. “I’m so proud of your emotional growth.”
“Get,” said Alvis, “off.”
“Okay, you two,” said Ril. “Jonesy should be arriving shortly for lunch. To the kitchen!”
Thankfully, her kitchen was large. Ril explained that she said she and Jason loved to entertain, and it was a specific design choice. John sat at the large rectangular table as Ril got to work. She explained they were having pan-fried sausages made from kalibull flank in fresh bread rolls with tubers, native fruits, and locally grown greenhouse vegetables.
Jason joined them and offered John a drink—moonshine, as he remembered from when he was here last, made from the same local tubers.
“Oh, yes indeed,” said John. “I’m beginning to really like this guy.”
Jason grinned as he poured two fingers.
“Excuse me,” said Alvis, “but we had a deal.”
John raised his glass, drank, then blew out a breath. “WOW. That is spicy. This is not whiskey, my clattering friend. So I have not broken our agreement.”
“Not the letter, but the spirit,” said Alvis, crossing his arms.
“Always read the fine print,” said Jason.
“Or listen to it,” said John.
Ril poured herself a much smaller drink. “I see not much has changed between you two.”
John turned the glass in his hand and looked at the artie. “You’d be surprised. But certain things are important to maintain a proper working relationship.”
“Blah blah blah, we like to insult each other,” said Ril, laughing.
John only shrugged.
It wasn’t long before Jonesy made an appearance, with Cole trailing behind her. John got up and hugged the red-haired and freckled leaselander woman who ran the Association.
She looked at him and Alvis, hands on her hips. “Well, if it ain’t our heroes, all grown up and famous. I see you still got that terrible hat.”
He took it off and bowed—and wobbled a bit from the moonshine. “I see you’ve obtained a limp, young lady.”
She waved a hand. “It’s nothing.” But she immediately took a seat and waved to Jason for a drink.
That left Cole standing with John. Cole snorted at John’s hat.
“Well,” said John. “I see you haven’t been killed by your fellow colonists. Good job!”
“Alright, alright!” Cole shook John’s hand. “I’ll have you know I am now the official colonist liaison to the Star Corps, which is a paid civilian position in the Corps, no less.”
“Yeah,” said Jonesy, “he doesn’t do any real work anymore.”
“A bureaucrat in the colony system? Unheard of!” John put a hand to his cheek.
“This bureaucrat needs a drink.” Cole sat down, and Jason handed him one.
“Oh, good,” said Alvis. “I’m soon to be surrounded by a bunch of inebriated humans.”
“Jason doesn’t drink,” said Ril. “He’s actually allergic.”
Cole raised his glass. “A moment of silence, please.”
Soon, a large meal was spread out on the table, and everyone dug in. John listened to the conversation when he wasn’t talking himself, happy to take in what seemed like mundane but important details in these people’s lives—people who had once been very important to him. It didn’t quite feel like home, but it was close.
Muk and Tuk arrived halfway through, and John was happy to see them. They reported things were well with their people, and that they now moved freely about the colony without worry.
“You set this place straight, MacAlister,” said Jonesy, sighing in contentment from the meal.
“We did it together,” said John.
“So, what’s next for the heroic duo?” asked Ril.
“Good question,” said John, looking at Alvis. “For the first time in a long time, I’m out of debt. We have a reputation that opens doors.”
“Too many doors,” said Alvis.
“Fair point,” said John. “But it’s a good problem to have. The truth is, we’re sort of . . . free . . . to do whatever we want.”
“Free outside the Union,” said Alvis in low tones.
“Yeah, well,” John shifted in his chair. “We both have issues with the people in charge in this little corner of space. Luckily, space has lots of space.”
“You did not just say that,” said Alvis.
Ril laughed. John watched her, fully content in her home and her life. “Forget about us, we’re just a couple of crazy heroes skipping around the galaxy saving everyone—boring stuff, really. I’m happy to see things are stable here. I want to know what’s next for the happy couple.”
Ril looked at Jason. “Well, we’re going to try and start a family.”
“You’re going to buy an artie?” John deadpanned.
Ril threw a sausage at him.
“Oh, a human family!” John grinned. “That’s amazing. Tough place to raise a kid. You’ll stay here?”
“There are plenty of families here, bucko,” said Jonesy.
“What’s wrong with you?” asked Cole. “She was raised here! Look how good she turned out.”
“Duh,” said Ril, making crosseyes at John.
John scratched his head under his hat. “Oh, yeah.”
“His cognitive ability, which is not great to begin with, deteriorates rapidly when he drinks,” said Alvis.
Eventually, Jonesy and Cole both had to get back to work and said their goodbyes. John had been genuinely glad to see both of them.
“Is she going to be okay?” he asked Ril, after they’d left.
“Jonesy?” asked Ril.
John nodded. “The hip.”
“She’s being stubborn about the surgery because it can’t be done here. Cole is pushing her to go to Mars to have it done. He’ll get her there, and she’ll be fine.”
The twins said goodbye as well. John made sure they said hello to Veyka, the Mokara seer, for him.
That left the four of them, and they talked for hours about everything from farming pimakh to what it was like to live through shifting realities and see an alternate version of yourself, to John hilariously recounting Alvis’s Timmy persona.
“Oh man,” said Ril, now quite tipsy, “I would have loved to see that.”
Soon, Seb was at the door, and they were saying their farewell. John shook Jason’s hand, and he went to clean up. Ril gave John a big hug, sparing Alvis the indignity. She looked at them both.
“All that you see here,” she made a circling motion. “It’s because of you two. Don’t ever forget that. If you’re on one of your crazy missions or whatever, and things are getting tough?” She paused. “This is what you fight for.”
John drank in her image one last time. “You bet we will.”
Chapter 8
Beowulf | Exiting Kaldikar-6 Orbit
They were on their way, but John had no idea where, and he wasn’t in much of a hurry to decide. The images of the visit were still warm to the touch. John set a course that would let them coast for the next day and went to the galley with Alvis.
“I’m assuming it’s time for whiskey,” said Alvis.
John shook his head. “Just coffee. Maybe something to snack on.” He gave Alvis a sly look. “Maybe a little Jimmy.”
“I sense a melancholy mood. It seemed to me the visit was mostly positive and ended on a high note.”
John took his coffee from the bev synth and leaned on the bulkhead. “It was. I’m not sad—quite the opposite, actually. I’m so glad we got the opportunity to visit. Not sure we’ll ever be back here. Ril’s a successful, grown woman now, and the colony is thriving.”
“And yet?”
Damn, he’s being pushy today.
John sipped his coffee. Might as well be honest, they were partners after all.
“Part of me will always want that. It’s just not in the cards. We’ve been through this.”
“And you feel this life is a subpar substitute?” asked Alvis.
John looked up at him in disbelief. “Dude—no. I said a part of me. The lion’s share of me is having the bloody time of my life. Do you have any idea how much fun I am having, bouncing around the galaxy in this ship—with you, even? Partner, our trajectory is upward.”
Alvis didn’t respond.
“What did you think of the visit?” asked John.
“It was further evidence that the young woman brought out the best in you. That experience made you.”
John nodded. “Made us. Now—which Jimmy J album do you want to listen to?”
“None of them.”
“Right. Live at Orion Stadium.”
John opened the cabinet where his AlloDiscs were stored and took one out. He raised his glass to Alvis. “Excellent choice, my friend.”
The End.