To The Airport

[NS]

Lieutenant Faraday made it to the airport in plenty of time to catch his sub-orbital flight, and although he felt bad about the departing tears in his wife’s eyes, he really was not sorry to leave. Not that he did not love her and their son. He did. Very much. But the excitement of a new deployment crowded out his sense of “sweet sorrow” at parting. Although Celestial Command wanted twelve of the EX’s, so far only six had been built and the United Planet’s Council was debating whether to provide funding for the other six.

That meant that out of all the hundreds of Solar Guard Officers and a near equal number of Officers in the Stellar Patrol of Alpha-Centauri, Lieutenant Faraday was one of only twenty-four Officers serving on Faster Than Light Vessels. If one factored in the thousands of Mates and Licensed Engineers in the Merchant Service, one would readily have to admit that Lieutenant Faraday was truly part of the crème-de-la-crème of Spacers.

The flight, which would have taken four hours in a conventional foil-wing craft, was over in slightly less than thirty-five. Going to the baggage claim area, he heard a familiar Southern drawl calling to him.

“Lieutenant? Lieutenant Faraday?” a young man dressed in the enlisted uniform of the Solar Guard, but wearing the distinctive badge of the FTL on his chest, rushed forward, elbowing his way through the crowd.

“Cookie!” the Lieutenant Faraday quickly returned the salute the man rendered when they got close and extended his hand to shake his fellow shipmate’s. “How was your Leave?”

“Ah! It was great, Sir! Ya wouldn’t believe what happened.”

From the way the Enlisted Man’s face was beaming with a wide, stupid smile, Faraday would have been willing to bet Credits to Navy Beans that their was a woman involved.

“You heading to base?” Lieutenant Faraday asked, gesturing to the duffle bag the Cook of the 5-EX, Specialist Second Class, James Earl Callahan, was carrying. “If you are we can share a cab and you can tell me all about it on the ride over.”

“Yes, Sir!” the Cook agreed happily. Then his smile faded somewhat. “Uh, on second thought, maybe I oughtn’t to.”

His smile quickly returned as he added, “But I had a good time, Sir. A real good time.”

By then Lieutenant Faraday had found his own bags and the two men headed for the exit to the street to grab a cab.

“Several of them, in fact!” the Cook remarked as he waved his arm in the air, flagging down a taxi.

The ride to the Base was nearly as long as the Lieutenant’s Faraday’s flight had been; almost thirty minutes. But the normally garrulous Cookie was silent most of the way. His thoughts were still back in the mountains of Appalachia.