STATION CHRONICLES III.
MARTIN ADVANCE
By
Mary Brick
Timeline: Before "First contact"
Author's E-Mail: maryb@mitretek.org
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
"The Station Chronicles: Martin Advance" is a short story based on the Amblin/Universal television production "Earth 2". All characters, names, and trademarks are the copyrighted property of Amblin/Universal. This story, copyright 1997, is my own creation and is not affiliated with Amblin/Universal.Any and all feedback is welcome. Send to maryb@mitretek.org.
Please do not post, publish, or include this story on a website without my permission. Thank you.
The Station Chronicles: Martin Advance (1/6)
by Mary Brick
CHAPTER 1
(Present)
Morgan Martin couldn't sleep and he only had himself to blame.
"Am I crazy?' he thought. "I must be. That's the only explanation I can think of. I have absolutely taken full leave of my senses.'
With a groan of frustration, Morgan pulled the covers up around his neck and closed his eyes. Noises he had never been aware of before taunted him...the hum of the heating unit, footsteps waxing and waning as unknown people walked up and down the hall, even the steady breathing of his wife lying beside him. Morgan's eyes popped open. "This is ridiculous. I don't know why I'm even trying.' Throwing off his covers, Morgan eased himself out of bed. With a soft, melodic sigh, Bess rolled over and fell back into a deep sleep. Morgan watched her for a moment, a look of envy briefly crossing his face. Then his features softened into a look of pure love and wonderment that most people who knew him would be surprised to see. But then, most people didn't know the Morgan that Bess Martin knew. Morgan reached down and moved a soft curl away from his wife's face. "I'm doing this for us, Bess. I hope it's worth it," he whispered into the darkness.
Stealing a final glance at his beautiful wife, Morgan put on his robe and walked into the living room. Turning on the overhead light, the stark emptiness of the room once again reminded him of why he couldn't sleep. The walls were bare; the tabletops devoid of any personal belongings. A few traveling bags were stacked neatly by the front door. Morgan wearily eased himself into a chair. His mind started to wander, back in time, trying to place the exact moment where his journey began. The journey that had led him to this night of unrest.
(20 years ago)
"Morgan Martin, I did not raise my son to become some two-bit hustler without an ounce of self-respect."
From the depths of the chair in which he sat, 14-year-old Morgan dared to look up at the stern face of the man towering over him. "But, Dad, Mr. Landing says I have a gift. That I could really make a success of this."
"Don't take that tone of voice with me, boy!" Preston Martin bellowed. "I'll be the one who tells you what will and will not make you successful. And I am telling you right now, the frustrated pipe-dreams of some washed up, has-been music teacher won't make you successful."
Morgan lowered his head into his hands to hide the tears of frustration that threatened to spill over. He knew it would never do for his father to see him cry.
Preston Martin was a self-made man. Having successfully worked off the last of his family's passage-up debt, he was firm in his belief that only hard, common sense work made a man successful. He once had great hopes for his only son, a son who did nothing but disappoint him. Where Preston was a powerfully-built man with muscles that told of his early years of manual labor, Morgan was a slight boy with an almost delicate constitution that never ceased to irritate his father. Where Preston had no time for what he considered frivolous pursuits, Morgan seemed only to take his music, especially his drums, seriously. Only Morgan's interest in computers gave Preston any hope about his son's future. A future he was determined would lead to riches and power Preston Martin saw everyone else receiving. Riches and power that he felt the Martin family deserved. And there was only one way a third-generation immigrant's son could get those riches and power—by becoming a high-ranking official in the service of station government.
"Morgan, after you graduate, you are going to enter the Center for Civil Service Training."
Morgan's head shot up and he stared at his father with eyes full of dismay. "But, Dad..."
"And I will tolerate no arguments. This discussion is closed." With a final glare of disgust at his defeated son, Preston turned and left the room.
"But, Dad..." Morgan said to the empty space where his father's presence still lingered. Getting up from his chair, Morgan looked around the room where he had endured many such "discussions'. His eyes rested on a holopic of his parents taken five years ago. "Why aren't you here to help me?" he wailed. With tears of frustration streaming down his face, Morgan fled to his bedroom, the only place that offered any sanctuary from his father's disappointment and demands. In the quiet of his hide-away, Morgan loudly and violently took out his frustrations on the only drums he owned, the ones he created in virtual reality.
(Present)
Morgan shook his head to clear away the painful memory. He wished he had his VR gear now, but it was packed away. His hands tapped out a rhythm on the arms of the chair, but it didn't help. His mind started wandering again. Images of his childhood raced through his head. Try as he might, he couldn't get rid of them. He never liked to think about the childhood he lived. It always made him think about the childhood that might have been. The childhood where his mother had never left him.
(24 years ago)
Sylvia Martin had been Morgan's greatest ally, defending him against his tyrannical father. She was a strong woman, much like his father. But she was never hard; she understood her quiet, dreamy son in a way his father never could. She understood that Morgan never knew the reality of being poor, never knew the reality of working two or three jobs at a time in order to put food on the table and keep a roof over their heads. She felt that with their inherited debt paid and their new home outside of the quadrants, Morgan would be allowed to live the life he dreamed of. But that dream was shattered, suddenly and without warning...
Sylvia quietly opened the door and entered her son's bedroom. Switching on the light, she looked around the sparsely furnished room. The bed was neatly made. The desk was cleared of the schoolbooks that were scattered about each night as Morgan struggled with his homework. The walls were barren of the usual evidence of youth; posters of favorite sports teams or pictures of the holovid heroes that 10-year-olds so worshipped. The dresser top held only a few items and those were of a predominately utilitarian nature. But in the center, in a place of honor, was a holopic of their family. It was taken during one of the few family outings Preston Martin agreed to take. Standing at the entrance of the Station 8 Holographic Zoo was the Martin family; father in the background standing ramrod straight and stern-faced, son in the foreground smiling shyly, and mother between them, smiling for the camera yet with a protective hand on her son's shoulder. Sylvia looked at that picture for a long time, her gaze alternating between her husband's face and her son's.
She remembered that day well. Such family outings were unusual, and Morgan had been especially excited about this one. He could scarcely contain his exuberance as they toured the zoo. Racing from one exhibit to the next, Morgan barely listened as his father tried to lecture him about the extinct animals they were seeing. Finally, Morgan's inattention took its toll on his father. Preston grabbed him by the arm and shook him hard.
"If you're not going to listen to me and learn something, there's no point in us staying any longer!" he hollered at his son. Morgan froze instantly, his eyes wide with fear.
Sylvia placed a restraining hand on her husband's arm. "Preston," she said calmly. "Not in public."
Morgan's father released him immediately but the rebuke had served its purpose. They completed the tour, but it was more like a school lesson than a family outing. Sylvia tried to make the rest of the day more fun, but she knew that Morgan's heart wasn't in it anymore. As they reached the end of the exhibition hall, they ran into the family of one of Morgan's schoolmates. Stopping to say hello, Sylvia watched her son. His looked of envy was apparent as he watched how easily the other boy interacted with his father. His friend's mother offered to take their picture. The day had been less than perfect and Sylvia couldn't understand why Morgan valued the picture so much to put it in such a prominent place in his room. What she didn't know was that the picture represented the sum total of his life, the stern father he tried so desperately to please and the patient mother he found so easy to love.
"Oh, Morgan," Sylvia whispered into the silence of the dreary room. "How can I tell you what you need to know? And how will you get along when I'm gone?"
"Mom, I'm home!" Morgan's greeting came from the front hall. "Can I have something to eat? I'm starved!"
Sylvia composed herself and went to join her son in the kitchen. "Hi, sweetie, how was your day?" she said as she fixed him his favorite after-school snack.
"Oh, you know, same ol' thing," was Morgan's reply as he seated himself at the kitchen table. Sylvia placed a plate of cookies and a glass of juice in front of Morgan and sat across from him, listening to her son ramble on about his day. Her mind wandered as she listened, barely conscious of his words as she tried to figure out how to tell him that the world he knew was about to end.
"Mom? Aren't you listening? What's wrong?"
Sylvia turned to look at Morgan. Her eyes welled up with tears as she reached across the table and gently stroked his face.
"Honey, we need to talk." Sylvia took Morgan's hands in hers. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she looked at her son. Quickly and candidly, yet as gently as she could, she told Morgan the secret she'd been keeping for the past six months.
"NO!" Morgan cried out. "No, you can't die!" He leapt from his chair and wrapped his arms in a vise-like grip around his mother. Burying his head in her shoulder, great sobs burst forth from deep within him. Sylvia wrapped her arms around her son and gently rocked him until the worst of his crying had subsided.
They talked for hours that afternoon and were virtually inseparable for the remaining three months of Sylvia's life. Enduring his own grief as stoically as he did everything else, Preston Martin never offered his son any public displays of comfort or solace. Without his mother's gentle guidance and quiet intervention, Morgan's life soon became an uphill battle to make his father proud of him. It was a battle he would never win.
(Present)
Morgan wiped a tear from his cheek. He didn't want to think about his parents anymore. He tried to turn his thoughts to something more pleasant, but certain other memories kept getting in the way. Memories of his school years. Memories of how he tried to please his father while trying to please himself, too. Memories of how he finally gave up his personal dreams and worked only to please his father.
(14 years ago)
While his mother was alive, Morgan's life was bearable. But her sudden illness and death left Morgan bereft of the one person that stood between his dreams and his father's expectations. With no-one to stand in his way, Preston Martin was determined to mold his son into the man he felt he should be. A driven man with only one goal to achieve great wealth and even greater power.
And so, upon graduation, Morgan found himself enrolled in the Center for Civil Service Training. Determined to make his father proud and unwilling to taint his mother's memory, Morgan drove himself hard. He studied constantly, rarely taking time for personal pursuits. He all but alienated everyone in his class, but it didn't matter. He was determined to become a rich and powerful man. A man his father would be proud of...
The man standing behind the lectern tapped the stack of data tapes in front of him slowly and repeatedly with his index finger.
"These reports are the most pathetic renderings of logical thought and argument I have ever seen in my 20 years of teaching," he announced.
The faces of the 35 students sitting before the teacher showed varying degrees of resignation. "Station Law in the 22nd Century" was one of the most difficult and complex courses offered at the Center. It was the make or break course for any student wishing a serious career in government service. And Oscar Hansen was the one instructor you didn't want to get for this class. He was a stickler for detail and nothing escaped his notice.
"Except for one."
One student's face lit up while the remaining 34 silently wished him dead.
The instructor took the top tape from the pile and handed it to the student sitting front row center.
"Mr. Martin," he said, "This report is the one shining example of what I've been trying to teach all semester. Well done."
Taking the tape, Morgan fairly beamed. "Thank you, Mr. Hansen, sir, thank you very much."
"As for the rest of you, I suggest you reread the assignment and try again. Now, on to Chapter 17."
When class was over, Morgan packed up his belongings and watched his fellow students leave the room. They left in groups of three or four, talking about the lesson they just had or commiserating over their failed reports. No-one waited for him. He walked out alone.
Morgan headed for the library. His head was down as he intently read the readout from the data recorder he always carried with him. He didn't see the group of students stopped at the door until he literally ran into them.
"Hey, Martin, watch where you're going," Anthony Harris complained. He was in Morgan's law class.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you." Morgan moved to go into the building.
Harris blocked the entrance. "Yeah? And just where do you think you're going?"
Morgan sighed. This wasn't the first time this had happened. He had lived through this kind of treatment since his first day of school. He had hoped the taunting would stop when he got to the Center. He'd hoped that the students would be more mature and leave him alone. But they didn't. Bullies wanted to get into government service, too, it seemed.
"I just want to get into the library so I can study," Morgan said.
"So you can write some more of those, uh, *shining* reports of *logical thought*?" Harris taunted, punctuating each word with a shove to Morgan's shoulder, forcing him back down the walkway.
"Yeah, I suppose so. Can I go in now?" Morgan glanced around at the other students, his eyes pleading for some help. He got nothing but glares of animosity in return.
"Nah, I don't think so," Harris replied.
Morgan looked at the faces of his fellow students. He suddenly understood that he would never get any help from them. He was on his own and always would be.
"Okay, fine. Don't let me in. But you know what? It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter where I study. And do you know why it doesn't matter? I'll tell you why. It doesn't matter because I can write my *shining* reports of *logical thought* anywhere. And do you know what else? You never will. You will always be all brawn and no brains struggling to survive at Level One when I'm sitting fat and sassy at Level Six probably trying to decide whether you should keep your puny, little job or not. So I'd have a little more respect if I were you. Now, get out of my way!"
With that, Morgan pushed past the stunned group of students and entered the library. He quickly entered the elevator and went to the sixth floor study center. Entering a private study room, he fell into the nearest chair and started shaking all over.
"Morgan Martin, I don't believe you just did that," he mumbled to himself. "But, damn, it felt good!"
Morgan's life started anew that day. He put aside the dreams he had had as a child and focused only on the career path chosen for him by his father. It may not have been his first choice, but he rationalized it in his mind until he believed it was. He worked hard in every class and studied until the early morning hours. It was a constant struggle. He wasn't studious by nature and many of the classes bored him. But he persevered and when he graduated, he was in the top 10 percent of his class. Therefore, it came as a bitter blow to Morgan when he received his first government assignment. Station Law was his field of choice, but the government had decreed that he could better serve as a Level One Computer Associate.
Morgan Martin was at the bottom again.
(Present)
Morgan stood and turned off the light. Determined to get some sleep, he headed back to the bedroom. In the darkness, he stumbled over the packed suitcases in the hallway. "Damn it, that hurts!" he swore. The bags reminded him of what was going to happen tomorrow. Realizing that sleep was still beyond his grasp, he headed for the kitchen to get something to eat. He got halfway there before he remembered that it was empty. Everything he and Bess couldn't take with them was either sold or given away. "Oh, great. Now what do I do?' he thought. He considered waking Bess so they could talk, but decided against it. "At least one of us should get a good night's sleep. Besides, I'll be getting plenty of sleep soon enough.' He wandered back into the living room. A sudden feeling of claustrophobia struck him and he knew he had to get out of the unit for a while. After quickly changing into street clothes, Morgan quietly walked out the front door.
END OF CHAPTER 1
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The Station Chronicles: Martin Advance (2/6)
by Mary BrickCHAPTER 2
(Present)
Bess listened as the door closed and she knew that Morgan had gone. She knew their journey tomorrow was the cause of his restlessness and when he got that way, he frequently left to take walks around the station. Her own restlessness stemmed not from fear of what was coming but from sadness at what she was leaving behind.
Bess Martin didn't fear the unknown. She had lived with worse than that and survived. But she didn't like change, though that never seemed to stop change from happening. Only the great love she had for her husband allowed her to take the recent drastic changes in her recent life in stride. She was a pragmatic woman and learned from her father that one had to look life in the eye and take it as it came. She always hoped that the good would outweigh the bad. Sometimes it did. More frequently it did not.
Just as Morgan did earlier, Bess realized that sleep would elude her this night. She threw off the covers, put on the robe Morgan had discarded when he changed, and walked out into the living room. Siting on the couch, she curled up near the end. She let her mind wander, back in time, trying to place the exact moment where her journey began. The journey that led her to this night of unrest.
(16 years ago)
"Bess Amelia Klempt. Get over here now, child!"
But the little girl with the shaggy golden curls didn't seem to hear. Her eyes were glued to the large monitor where a blond woman was sitting behind a desk reading the latest news from the stations.
"And in Business News today, Adair Consolidated has been awarded the most recent Government contract to build the largest station ever built. Designed to house 5,000 families, this latest station will also feature..." Bess' attention was diverted by a sharp tug on her hand.
"Bess, didn't you hear me? I said we have to go."
Bess turned her head to see her mother looking down at her, a look of impatience on her face. With a quick shake of her head, Bess remembered the job at hand and proceeded to follow her mother through the market center. But as they finished making their purchases and headed home, Bess couldn't get the name "Adair' out of her head nor the stories she heard about them on the satellites from which all Earth Residents got their news of the life on the stations.
"Mom, are we ever going to be rich like the Adairs?" Bess asked, causing her mother to stop in her tracks.
"Why do you ask, honey?" Helen Klempt looked at her daughter, a small trace of fear on her face.
"I don't know. Just wondering," Bess replied with a small shrug as they resumed walking.
"Would it make much of a difference to you?"
Bess noticed the tone of her mother's voice. It always seemed to get like that when Bess asked questions about the stations and the people who lived there. She didn't know why, but she knew instinctively that she shouldn't ask. But sometimes, like now, she couldn't help herself.
"I don't know. Maybe," was her vague reply.
Bess and her mother reached their home and entered the front door. Their unit was like all the others in the zone, a leftover from the days of the biodomes. A time after the Earth became uninhabitable but before the majority of people left for the stations. It was old and worn out, but still moderately habitable; not that there was anywhere else to live. Boasting two bedrooms, a living room, and kitchen, Helen Klempt did the best she could with the meager salary she and her husband made working in the mines. But it was clean and as happy a home as she could provide for her growing daughter.
Placing their purchases on the kitchen table, Helen followed Bess as the child wandered down the hall into her room. Standing in the doorway, she watched as Bess took out her most prize possession, the only doll she ever had. Bess sat on the edge of her bed and rocked the doll in her arms. Feeling she was being watched, Bess looked to her left and gave her mother a smile.
Picking up a brush, Helen sat next to Bess and started to comb the unruly mess her daughter's hair became at the end of every day.
"Bess," her mother whispered, "are you happy?"
Bess knew what her mother meant. They lived on the ravages of what was the remains of a once beautiful planet with no hopes of ever leaving. Their existence was hand to mouth, jobs scarce; comforts scarcer. A four-room housing unit was a palace. Three meals a day was a feast.
But what other answer could she give?
"Of course I am, Mom."
(Present)
Bess let out a sigh. "Ah, Mom, would you look at me now?" she whispered into the darkness. "Your little Earth Res has moved up to the stations and is about to go further than your wildest dreams." Thoughts of the next day brought another face into her mind. A face with a more stern countenance and yet no less loving.
(9 years ago)
"Daddy, I'd like you to meet Billy."
Maynard Klempt looked up from the report he was studying to see his 17-year old daughter hovering around the latest boy she had brought home. "This one's no better than the rest,' was his first thought. But he suppressed any expressions from crossing his face as he saw the hopeful look in Bess' eyes, pleading with him to be nice. Putting the report to one side, he stood and shook hands with the young man.
"And where are you taking my daughter tonight?"
Billy quickly cleared his throat. He'd heard the tales about Bess' father. That he was strict and demanding when it came to the boys who dared ask his beloved daughter out on a date.
"To, uh, just out to the arcade, uh, with a bunch of friends," was the stuttered response.
"The arcade," Maynard said. He continued to stare at Billy, causing the boy to squirm under the intent gaze. Just when he knew the boy could take it no longer, Maynard spoke again. "And what time will you be returning my daughter?"
Relieved that he wasn't to be denied his date with Bess, he blurted out, "Any time you want!"
With a gleam in his eye that only Bess recognized, he taunted, "2100 then."
The boy's face fell. He swallowed hard as he worked up the courage to argue. "But, sir, that's only an hour from now."
Maynard smiled. "You can tell time; that's very good." His smiled disappeared. "So when I say that you are to bring my daughter home at midnight sharp you will do so. There will be no coming in late with a lame excuse that you lost track of time, will there?"
The boy shook his head emphatically. "No, sir. Midnight on the dot. Yes, sir!" Billy fled for the door.
Bess stood in front of her father and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Thanks, Daddy," she said ruefully. "We'll try to have a good time." She followed Billy out the door.
Maynard looked at the closed door for a moment before returning to his seat. He tried to work but found his thoughts were miles away from the report in his hands. His gaze wandered to the closed door. It was a long time before he could concentrate on his work again.
Several hours later, Maynard looked up at the sound of the key in the door. He watched with no small pride as his daughter entered the shabby living room, noticing once again how she always managed to brighten up any room she was in.
Humming a little tune, Bess walked across the room and sat next to her father. Giving him a kiss on the cheek she smiled at him.
"Still up?" she asked.
"Of course," came the abrupt reply. "Did you think I'd not wait until you got home?"
"Ah, Daddy. I'm a big girl now," Bess replied. "You don't have to wait up for me."
Knowing all to well that his little girl was no longer little didn't do much for Maynard's disposition. But Bess was his cherished daughter, all he had left. Never risking to alienate her with harsh words, he took his resentment out on the boys she dated.
"So, what does this one do?"
"The same as the others...works in the mines." Bess never whitewashed the truth. No boy would ever be good enough for her at least that's what her father thought so there was no point. And what did it matter? Who did he think she would end up with anyway? A Station Res with a sterling pedigree?
"Works in the mines. Did he finish school or is he so industrious that he went to work right away."
Bess sighed. "No, Daddy, he didn't finish school."
"An uneducated mineworker with probably very little ambition." Maynard looked at his daughter sadly. "Bess, you can do better than that," he said brusquely.
Bess looped her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. "No, I can't, Daddy. But it's nice that you think I can."
(Present)
Bess smiled to herself as she thought of her overprotective father. He wasn't a highly demonstrative man, but he knew he loved her deeply. He was her foundation and unwavering champion as she ventured from childhood into womanhood. She knew she would miss his gruff affection and keen advice as she ventured forth into her unpredictable future.
END OF CHAPTER 2
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The Station Chronicles: Martin Advance (3/6)
by Mary BrickCHAPTER 3
(Present)
Wandering aimlessly, Morgan came across an all-night restaurant. Deciding a hot cup of tea might be what he needed to get to sleep, he entered the dimly lit cafe. Due to the lateness of the hour, most of the tables were empty. A tired-looking waitress led him to a small table and took his order. Morgan watched her walk into the kitchen. His mind wandered back to another dimly lit restaurant with a waitress who was altogether different. Back to the day his life took a totally unexpected, yet eminently agreeable, turn for the better.
(3 years ago)
(Morgan)The day didn't start out so agreeable, though. Morgan had spent a very trying morning with his supervisor. He felt he wasn't advancing fast enough and that his talents weren't being used to their full potential. His supervisor said that he just needed to be patient. Morgan argued that he had *been* patient. That he had given nine years to the department and was still only a Level Three.
"Look, I come to work every day. I work 6-7 days a week, as many as 15 hours a day," Morgan argued. "I encode and decode your reports all day long and maybe get to write a few measly, nearly useless programs. I've put in my time. When am I going to get some real responsibility?"
Unfortunately for Morgan, he had picked a day when his supervisor's ulcer was acting up, his wife was nagging him to take some time off, and his kids were choosing this day to exert their independence. He was in no mood for some low-level computer hack to start making demands.
"Okay, Martin, you want some responsibility? I'll give you some responsibility. There's been another accident at the Zone 3 Copper Mine in the southeast quadrant, United States. Why don't you get your butt down there and get an incident report from the operations manager. That responsibility enough for you?"
Morgan's eyes opened wide and for a moment he had trouble breathing. "Mine? United States?" he gasped. "You mean, on *Earth*?"
The supervisor rolled his eyes. "Yes, I mean on *Earth*. You want to advance? Then I suggest that you take a few more assignments planetside. And I suggest you hurry. There's a shuttle leaving in a few minutes. Unless, of course, you want to stay overnight?"
"Uh, no. A day trip will be fine." Morgan hurried for the door before his assignment got any worse.
Getting in an autocab, Morgan slouched low in the seat. "Shuttle Bay 9 and make it quick." He was not about to miss this shuttle. If he did, he would not be able to complete his assignment and get out before the last shuttle left Earth. Spending the night in one of those hell-holes they called a hotel was not how he wanted to spend his evening.
(Bess)
"So, what are you going to do today?" Maynard Klempt asked his daughter as she cleared the table of the remains of their breakfast.
"Oh, I don't know," Bess sighed. "I thought I'd do a little shopping, have lunch with the girls, and then go out dancing all night."
"Okay, okay, you cheeky thing. Stupid question." With a heavy sigh, he took one last look at the report he'd been reading during breakfast and tossed it into his satchel. "What a day this is going to be," he muttered, walking to the door.
"Got your meeting with the Government Rep today?" Bess asked.
"Yeah. And I'm not looking forward to it at all. These guys think they can come down, ask their questions, make their reports, and everything will be all right. What do they know about what it's like to live and work down here, tucked away on their cushy stations with their cushy jobs?"
Bess gave her father a reassuring hug. "Don't worry, Daddy. Remember what you always told me? Remember who you are and where you come from and don't take any nonsense from anyone. If I know you, you'll handle him just fine."
(Morgan)
Sitting in the cramped seat of the shuttle, Morgan took out his data recorder. He started composing a list of questions he needed to ask the mine supervisor. He was determined to be as prepared as possible in order to get out and back to the stations as quickly as he could. Entering Earth's atmosphere, sudden turbulence rocked the shuttle and Morgan let out a yelp of surprise. His data recorder slipped from his hands and landed on the floor. When he picked it up, Morgan noticed that the detailed questions he had written were gone. With a curse of frustration, Morgan checked the recorder. It had accidentally shut off when it hit the floor.
"Damn it,' he thought. "This is just my luck.' He felt the shuttle slow as it completed its landing. "And I don't have time to retype them. This is going to slow things down plenty.' With a frustrated shake of his head, Morgan repacked his briefcase and exited the shuttle.
The shuttle terminal was bustling with activity. Loudspeakers announced departures and arrivals in a tinny, mechanical voice that was barely understandable. Poorly-dressed Earth Residents mingled with well-dressed Station Residents as each made their way in and out of the terminal. Morgan had been to Earth only once in his life. It was early in his career and he did his best to blot out the memory. Apparently he did a good job because he had no idea where to go now.
Spotting what he assumed was a terminal employee, Morgan walked up to a bored-looking man in an ill-fitting uniform.
"Uh, excuse me," Morgan said, trying to get the man's attention. "Could you tell me how to get to Zone 3 Copper Mine Operations Office?"
The man spared Morgan a disinterested glance before pointing to his right. "Autocabs over there," he grunted and walked off.
"Thank you," Morgan said sarcastically. With a heavy sigh, he walked over to the line of waiting vehicles. They were dirty and in poor condition, a far cry from the clean, sleek autocabs on the stations. Barely masking his disgust, Morgan entered the first autocab and gave his destination. With a loud rumble, the vehicle moved on its way.
Morgan took out his data recorder and attempted to retype the questions he needed to ask. However, the vehicle was shaking so badly on the track that typing was impossible. Getting angrier by the minute, Morgan shoved the recorder back in his briefcase and waited out the ride.
The autocab traveled through dimly lit tunnels that oozed slime whose origin Morgan didn't want to consider. He began to fear that he would actually have to exit the comparatively safe haven of the biodomes and venture out into the horror that was now Earth.
Morgan knew the stories all too well. It was a source of pride for those on the stations to compare their safe, sterile environment with the ruin that was Earth. He knew that decades of abuse had slowly rendered Earth all but uninhabitable and forced the majority of people to escape skyward to the steel and glass structures he proudly called home.
The autocab stopped and Morgan stepped out into an open area devoid of activity. He looked around and spotted a door on the far side. Walking up to it, he saw a sign that read "Operations Office.' With a murmur of relief, he opened the door.
A woman sat behind a decrepit desk. Typing frantically on the keyboard in front of her, she didn't even look up before greeting Morgan with a surly "What do you want?"
"Earth Res,' Morgan thought with distaste, but bit back the words before they could come out. He certainly didn't want to antagonize anyone who could stand in the way of his getting his job done. "My name is Morgan Martin, government liaison from Department 4. I'm here to see the operations manager."
Flicking a switch on an ancient intercom box, the woman announced him. Garbled words issued from the box in reply. Morgan didn't understand them, but the woman apparently did. "Third door on the left," she said, motioning with her head as she resumed her assault on the keyboard.
Without a word, Morgan headed down the short hallway. Coming to the third door on the left, Morgan took note of the name on the sign next to the door: "Maynard Klempt, Operations Manager'. Smoothing his jacket and adjusting his tie, Morgan took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
"Come in." The voice was deep and authoritative. Morgan started to sweat.
Entering the office, Morgan took quick note of his surroundings. The room was bright with a harsh light that did nothing to improve the decor, if one could call it "decor." Holopics of various mining operations covered the walls. The furnishings were sparse; a work table piled high with assorted paperwork, a few chairs, and a desk. Morgan stepped up to the desk and sized up the man sitting behind it. He didn't like what he saw. Maynard Klempt was not a large man, but his demeanor gave the impression that he was man's man. He was an Earth Resident and a miner, a man used to hard work. The combination made Morgan uncomfortable. To hide his unease, Morgan drew upon his status as a Station Resident which had the unfortunate effect of making him sound pompous.
"Good afternoon. My name is Morgan Martin and I'm..."
"I know who you are," Klempt interrupted. "Sit down."
Morgan was taken aback by the man's brusqueness. The term "Earth Res' popped into his mind again. "Yes, well, I'm here to talk to you about..."
Again he was interrupted. "I know why you're here. Let's dispense with the pleasantries and get down to business." Maynard Klempt leaned forward on his desk, his arms crossed in front of him. "The disaster in my mine yesterday was the direct result of station bureaucracy and negligence. This situation is going to have to change or you're going to have a full-scale strike on your hands. I'm sure you remember the Uprising of 2180."
Morgan's mind frantically searched for any memory of such an event. He drew a total blank. "Uh, I'm sorry, Mr. Klempt. I can't say that I do. However, if you would just give me the details of yesterday's incident?"
"Details? Do you mean to tell me that you haven't read the report?" Klempt rolled his eyes in exasperation as Morgan shook his head.
"No, that's why I'm here. To take an incident report," Morgan replied, slumping down in his chair. This was not going well at all.
Klempt's eyes bored into Morgan's. "Incident? Incident! Is that what you station bureaucrats are calling this? Nine lives lost and scores injured and you're calling this an *incident*?"
"Look, why don't you just tell me what happened and we can go from there," Morgan said, his voice shaking with frustration.
Grabbing a data tape from the pile on his desk, Klempt threw it at Morgan. "Why don't you just take that with you and read it. Come back tomorrow and we can finish this then."
Morgan's mind reeled with the thought of having to stay on Earth one minute longer than necessary. He certainly had no intention of coming back tomorrow to finish anything.
"Mr. Klempt. I, uh, I don't think that will be necessary. Why don't you just tell me *now* what happened?"
"Mr. Martin. I don't think you understand the gravity of this situation. Read the report and come back tomorrow." That said, Klempt stood and gestured toward the door. Morgan had no choice but to leave and come back tomorrow.
Exiting the office, Morgan jammed the tape in his pocket. "Great. An Earth Res with attitude and a night in hell. No job is worth this,' he thought.
(Bess)
"C'mon, Bess, let's get out of here! We only have 30 minutes for our break." Jane grabbed Bess' arm and nearly dragged her to the door.
Leaving the restaurant where they both worked, the two women quickly walked down the corridor and put as much space between them and "that hell-hole" as Jane referred to it as they could.
"I thought Frank would never give us a break!" Jane exclaimed and they found an empty bench and sat down.
"Oh, it's not so bad," Bess replied.
"What?! How can you say that?"
"Well, I suppose we can get a job in the mines..." Bess teased her friend.
"Stop right there! Okay, maybe it's not so bad. Forget I said anything. So," Jane said, turning to Bess, "how was your date with Joey last night? C'mon, give me the dirt!"
Bess sighed. "It didn't go very well. Oh, I don't know. He's nice and all that, but he's so...ordinary, I guess. He's just like every other boy I've ever dated."
"What are you talking about? He's gorgeous! He already owns his own place. You'll have it made!"
"I don't know, Jane. He just doesn't do it for me."
"Oh, please!" Jane said, disgustedly. "Your father has messed up your head with ideas of the "Knight in Shining Armor', the perfect man. Trust me, you're not going to find any of that type down here."
Bess stared at her friend in indignation. "He has not. He just doesn't want me to settle for...ordinary." She sighed in despair. "Jane, I don't know. Sometimes I think that the right guy will come in, sweep me off my feet, and life will be wonderful. Then I think that guys like Joey are all I can expect. Not that he's a bad guy. He's not. But, there's no spark, no imagination, no...." Bess' voice trailed off.
""Knight in Shining Armor'?" Jane asked softly.
Bess stared off into the distance. "Jane, do you ever dream? Do you ever dare hope that one day, things will work out...differently, somehow, than they're supposed to? That by some twist of fate, the life you know you are destined to lead will somehow be altogether different, better than it's supposed to be? Do you, Jane? Do you ever dare dream?"
"Every day, kiddo. Every day."
(Morgan)
Morgan managed to find his way to a nearby hotel. He checked in and took a precarious elevator ride to the fourth floor. Opening the door, he groaned in dismay. The room was as spartan as he had feared. A bed, a dresser, a table, and a chair. That was it. No holovid terminal, no computer array, no room service machine, nothing. Just the bare minimum. Tossing his briefcase on the desk, Morgan flopped down on the bed. It shook unsteadily under his weight. "Great, now I won't even get a decent night's sleep,' he thought.
With nothing else to do, Morgan took out his data recorder and the data tape the operations manager had given him. Powering up the machine, he inserted the tape and pressed the play button. Reading the report, Morgan couldn't comprehend Klempt's anger. It was just a simple equipment failure that happened all to often but was to be expected. Unfortunately, this particular failure occurred during peak production hours, hence the heavy casualties. However, Morgan didn't see anything that pointed to station negligence. He doubted, however, that he would be able to convince Maynard Klempt of that.
Suddenly, Morgan heard a low, grumbling sound. Startled, he sat upright on the bed and look around the room for the source of the sound. Hearing it again, he shook his head, chagrined. The sound was coming from himself. It was his empty stomach growling. "This place is making me way too jumpy,' he thought ruefully. Realizing that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, he left his room in search of a place to eat.
Remembering that he'd seen a restaurant nearby, he started walking. Reaching the main thoroughfare, he looked around until he found what he was looking for. He was surprised at the lack of activity since the hour wasn't all that late. He reached the entrance just as a woman closed the door.
"Wait a minute!" Morgan said. "I want to get something to eat."
The woman looked at Morgan and shrugged her shoulders. "I'm sorry. We're closed."
The woman's image was hard to see through the dirty glass, but Morgan pleaded with her anyway. "It's only 2100. How come you're closing so early?"
"Not much business tonight so there's no point in staying open late," came the reply.
Morgan threw his hands up in dismay. "But I'm starving!" he whined.
The woman opened the door and took a long look at Morgan. Taking in his clean, if rumpled suit, his neatly combed hair, and his soft, Station Res' hands, she shook her head. "I hardly think you have a clue what starving is. But, okay, come on in. I'll see what I can do."
Morgan hardly noticed her rebuke because he thought he had died. That had to be the reason there was an angel standing there before him. He just stood there like a man who had found paradise, lost in her large, beautiful blue eyes.
Smiling a smile that sealed Morgan's fate, she stood back and opened the door wider. "Well, aren't you going to come in?"
The spell broken, Morgan shook his head as if to clear it. "Uh, yeah, sure. I'm coming in."
The woman led him to a table and Morgan sat down. Looking down at Morgan, she said, "There's no point in looking at the menu. The cook has already left. I'll see what I can find leftover in the kitchen. I'll be right back."
Morgan watched her walk across the room. Her abundant, curly hair was pulled into a ponytail. Her legs were long and her arms slender and smooth. Her walk was the stuff dreams were made of. He didn't see her worn clothes or her neatly mended shoes. This time the term "Earth Res' never entered his head.
A few minutes later, though it seemed an eternity to Morgan, the woman returned. She was carrying a plate of non-descript food which she placed in front of him. "Can I get you something to drink?" she asked. Her voice was soft and melodic, washing over Morgan like a cool breeze.
"Uh, yeah, sure uh coffee would be uh fine." Morgan cringed inwardly. "Smooth, Morgan, very smooth. What is wrong with you?' he thought. He wasn't sure, but he knew this woman was the cause of it.
Returning with his coffee, the woman placed it on the table next to the plate of untouched food. With a soft laugh, the woman gestured to the plate. "I thought you said you were starving?"
Morgan looked at his plate. "Uh, yeah, I am. Uh, would you care to join me?" He looked up at the woman, his eyes begging for her to say yes.
The woman glanced back toward the kitchen where a man Morgan assumed was her boss was glaring at her. "I can't. I have work to finish. Enjoy your meal." She turned and walked away.
(Bess)
After clearing away the dirty dishes from the tables and tidying up the dining room, Bess quickly retreated into the kitchen. Leaning against the refrigerator, she shook her head in disbelief, amazement, and mirth. "Where did this guy come from?' she thought to herself. "He's from the stations, that much is obvious. But what else? What does he do? What is he like? Why is he here and how long will he be around? And why am I so worried about it?' With a mental shake of her head, Bess started washing the dishes she'd brought in with her. But her mind kept wandering back to the man in the dining room. She was well aware of the way he looked at her, as if he'd had a revelation of some sort. Men didn't look at her that way. Frequently it was a look of admiration, but more often than not it was a look of lust. But this was totally different, and Bess was more than a little intrigued. Something Jane had said, what was it? A "Knight in Shining Armor'? Bess let out a little laugh. "No, hardly that,' she thought. "But definitely not...ordinary.'
(Morgan and Bess)
Morgan sat back in his chair and let out a long sigh. Turning his attention to his dinner, he realized that he wasn't hungry anymore. He drank his coffee and ate little while he watched the woman give her attention to her duties. She was quick and efficient, wasting neither time nor energy. Morgan watched her as if cleaning a dining room was the most fascinating phenomenon he had ever seen. She disappeared into the kitchen and was gone for a long time. Morgan assumed she was cleaning in there and wished he could watch. Suddenly feeling foolish and not a little voyeuristic, he gave himself a mental shake and turned his full attention to his plate. The food was bland and unappetizing but he determined to eat every bite, if only not to disappoint the woman who had gone out of her way to get it for him. That, more than anything else, impressed Morgan. In his experience, people didn't go out of their way for anybody. They were friendly to your face yet plotted against you. Or they were openly hostile and plotted against you. All for the sake of level advancement. That was the only thing of importance…what level you were. For the higher the level, the greater the riches and power. Yet this woman had shown him a kindness for no reason other than to just be kind to another human being. Morgan was deeply impressed.
Getting the feeling that he was being watched, Morgan turned and looked behind him. The man and woman were watching him, the man with impatience and the woman with interest. Realizing that they must be ready to leave, Morgan quickly stood and motioned to his now empty plate and cup. "Finished," he said.
The woman walked over and took the dishes back to the kitchen. Morgan went to the counter to pay, stalling until the woman came back out and headed for the door. Quickly pocketing his wallet, Morgan hurried after her.
"Uh, Miss," he called after her. The woman stopped and turned, looking at Morgan expectantly.
Not knowing what to say, but certain that he couldn't let this woman just walk out of his life, Morgan fidgeted with his jacket buttons. "Stop it,' he scolded himself silently. "You're acting like a schoolboy.' With that, he straightened up and became Morgan Martin, Level Three Government Liaison, Station Resident.
"Miss, would you care to accompany me for an evening out on the town?"
The woman threw her head back and laughed. "You don't get to Earth much, do you?" she asked.
That shattered Morgan's pretensions. "No, as a matter of fact I don't. Why do you ask?"
"Because there is no "evening out on the town' stuff here. Not like what I'm sure you're used to. And I don't think you'd like the places we do have."
Morgan's heart pounded in his chest. She was saying no. She was going to walk out of his life forever. He had to stop her but he didn't know how. Then came the reprieve.
"However, we can go for a walk if you'd like."
With a sigh that he hoped didn't sound too relieved, Morgan hurried to open the door for her. They exited the restaurant and looked around. Turning to the woman, Morgan said, "Well, this is your neighborhood. Which direction do you suggest?"
Before she could answer, the man came out of the restaurant. "Bess, don't forget you're working for Jane tomorrow. I expect you in at 0700 sharp."
"Okay, Frank, I won't forget. See ya tomorrow," Bess replied.
With a final hostile glare at Morgan, Frank turned and walked away. Morgan looked at the woman next to him. "So your name is Bess. That's a very pretty name. Is it short for Elizabeth?"
Bess laughed as she steered them in the opposite direction from the one Frank had taken. "No, nothing as fancy as that. It's just plain Bess."
"No," Morgan disagreed. "Not plain."
Bess blushed at the compliment. "And what is your name?"
"Morgan."
"Morgan," Bess softly said to herself. Hearing her say his name, Morgan knew that he had to make this woman his own.
They slowly wandered the walkways. At first their conversation consisted of insignificant smalltalk. But as their initial reserve fell away, they found themselves telling each other things that were of the most personal nature. Though Bess was eager to hear all about his life on the stations, Morgan kept steering the conversation back to her. Her soft voice was music to Morgan's ears, and he found himself wanting to know everything about her.
Despite their vastly different positions in life, they found they had much in common. They were both their parents' only children. They were both basically shy around people, though for Morgan it stemmed from insecurity and with Bess it stemmed from an overprotective father. They both struggled with academics despite their natural intelligence. And they both had lost their mothers at a young age. Morgan's heart went out to her as she told him the story of her mother's tragic death.
"My family has been miners for generations. When the stations were built, my great-grandparents felt that staying here and working the mines would ensure prosperity for their family. With no natural resources, the stations were dependent on the mines for building materials and energy. However, the conditions on Earth got worse and worse, and station scientists soon developed synthetic materials for many of their needs. The land was practically useless for farming. Enormous biodomes were built, but they were inadequate for the needs of the many who stayed. My grandparents looked into moving to the stations, but they couldn't afford the passage-up fee and didn't want to leave their children with inherited debt. So they stayed on Earth. The mines were being stripped. Work conditions continued to deteriorate and jobs were scarce. You took any job available, regardless of the danger. But, it paid the best money, so my parents continued to work the mines."
Bess stopped talking and sat on a nearby bench. She looked off into the distance and Morgan could see that her mind was far away. He waited for her to continue.
"I came home from school one day and found my father sitting at the kitchen table. I was very surprised to see him because he usually worked late; y'know, for the extra money. In his hands was a satchel that belonged to my mother. He looked at me as I entered the room. I could tell he'd been crying and that frightened me. "Daddy, what's wrong?' I asked. He just kept looking at me, clutching that satchel as if it were a lifeline. "Daddy,' I said, "you're scaring me. What's wrong? Where's Mom?' He came over to me and knelt in front of me. He took me in his arms and held me tight, dropping the satchel on the floor. "Oh, Bess,' was all he said as he started to cry. I had never seen my father cry, and I knew something terrible had happened. And I knew what it was. My friends had lost parents to the mines. I tried to prepare myself for his next words, but they were a shock all the same. "Bess, honey, your mother is dead.' He said it so gently as if he could make it easier to hear. Of course, it didn't. We cried all night, mourning her. After that, my father refused to let me work in the mines. He said the world was dangerous enough as it was without looking for trouble. He became very protective of me. He always tells me how much I remind him of my mother. I know it would kill him if he lost me, too."
Tears were streaming down Bess' face. Morgan did the only thing he knew to do. He put his arm around her shoulder, drew her close, and let her cry.
As Bess' tears subsided, she moved away from Morgan. He wanted to close the gap again, but knew now wasn't the time. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped her face clear of her tears. Smiling shyly at Morgan, Bess took the handkerchief from him.
"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her face. "I usually don't get this emotional. It's just that I haven't talked about that day for such a long time."
Morgan patted her hand. "Don't be sorry. I know exactly how you feel." And he told her the story of his own mother. He told her of his estranged relationship with his father and how he envied her relationship with hers. They continued to talk about everything and nothing, their hopes, dreams, and even the silly escapades they had had as children. They held nothing back, well, almost nothing. For all her experiences surviving on Earth, Morgan realized Bess was not a worldly person. There was one thing he felt he could never tell her.
"So you mean to tell me that a girl as pretty as you doesn't even have a boyfriend? I imagined you'd be swamped with suitors."
Bess laughed and blushed again. Morgan loved how easily she blushed. The women that he knew were well beyond that.
"No, no boyfriends. Oh, I have boys who are friends, but, no no boyfriends."
"Why not?"
Bess shook her head with a laugh. "You haven't met my father yet. Believe me, once he gets done with them, they are afraid to even remain my friends!" Bess grew serious again. "But it's more than that. It's very hard for a woman down here. It's not like the stations where there's equality between the sexes, where a person can advance due to the quality of their work and not their gender. Here, it's totally different. It's not the brain that matters, it's the brawn. And the men have the brawn so they have the power. And they frequently exploit it. A woman has to be very careful of the man she chooses because he can toss her away just like yesterday's garbage. We don't have marriage contracts that protect the woman's interests as well as the man's. Half the time people don't even bother to get married. Why should they when divorce means nothing more than getting tossed out of your home with nothing, except the kids. And then where are you? Poor and homeless with a passel full of kids." Bess shook her head emphatically. "Well, that's not what I want. I want a good man who will take care of me no matter what. I deserve that much."
Morgan resolved then and there that this woman would find him to be the man she deserved. With that thought in mind, he also knew there would be one secret he would take to his grave.
Bess suddenly grasped Morgan by the arm. "Oh, my goodness! What time is it?"
Morgan looked at his watch. "Oh dear. It's 0300."
Bess looked dumbfounded. "Oh no, I had no idea it was so late. I have to get home. My father will be frantic, not to mention the fact that I have to be at work in four hours!"
Morgan stood and went to hail an autocab. "Well, let me take you home."
"No, that's okay. Your hotel is right nearby, and I live rather far from here."
Morgan started to argue but caught the look of pleading in Bess' eyes. He suddenly understood. If she came home with a man in tow, things could get pretty messy with her father.
"When can I see you again?"
Bess hesitated. This man was a Station Res and a member of the station government. She knew that in spite of his obvious attraction to her, he would never want a serious relationship with an Earth Res. The "Knight in Shining Armor' thing was truly a myth. But she liked him nonetheless. He was kind and sweet and had a good heart. Foolish though she knew it was, she knew she had to see him again. "I get off work at 1700. Why don't you meet me at the restaurant then?"
"I'll be there," Morgan said, a smile lighting his face. The autocab pulled up and Morgan motioned for Bess to get in.
Bess panicked. She didn't have the money for an autocab. "It's okay. I can walk."
"Don't be silly," Morgan said, and he helped her into the autocab. "The ride is on me." He watched the autocab disappear down the tunnel and continued watching for a long while after.
END OF CHAPTER 3
Feedback to maryb@mitretek.org
The Station Chronicles: Martin Advance (4/6)
by Mary BrickCHAPTER 4
(Morgan)
Morgan woke early the next morning, surprisingly refreshed despite only having had five hours sleep in a shabby hotel bed. The name "Bess' sang through his head as he prepared for his meeting with Maynard Klempt. He knew this meeting wouldn't be pleasant, but knowing that he was seeing Bess afterwards kept Morgan's spirits high.
Reviewing the incident report, Morgan was reminded of Bess' mother and how she died. His heart went out to Bess for the tragic way she lost her mother, but his pragmatic side told him that these things happened. He reminded himself that he was an agent of the station government and had to conduct himself as such. And in this case, the station government was not at fault. He considered checking into Bess' mother's death when he got home but quickly rejected the idea. It would serve no good purpose and might even lead him to a conflict of interest. Best to keep his personal and business lives separate.
That thought led him to another, more troubling thought. He would be going home tomorrow. His work would be finished today and only seeing Bess tonight kept him from leaving right after his meeting. How was he going to continue seeing Bess? He knew that he could take more planetside assignments. That would not only ensure his ability to see Bess, but it would also help him advance to Level Four faster. But the thought of spending that much time on Earth appalled him. He could take Bess stationside and set her up in a nice place. Then he could see her all he wanted. But Morgan knew that Bess wouldn't go for that. She had too much pride. Though most women living in this hell-hole would jump at the chance of being the mistress of a well-established Station Resident, Morgan knew that Bess deserved more. She deserved marriage.
"Am I really considering this?' Morgan thought. "I've known this girl for six hours and I'm ready to take planetside assignments and am thinking about marriage?' But he knew that not only was he considering it, he would do whatever it took to make it happen. For he knew that this girl had touched something in him, something that he had thought he had buried with his mother; his ability to love another human being totally and completely without regard for himself.
(Bess)
Maynard Klempt watched his daughter as she fixed breakfast. Humming softly to herself, she had a look about her he'd never seen before. He also knew she didn't get in until after 0300 this morning. Those two pieces of information weighed heavily on his mind.
"Bess, honey, anything on your mind?" he asked hesitantly.
Placing his plate in front of him, Bess quickly turned her head to hide the blush that had suddenly come over her. "Not really," she replied. "Why do you ask?"
"You seem in a particularly happy mood this morning, that's all," he said.
"Well..." Bess hesitated, but decided to go for it. "A man came into the restaurant last night."
"Ah, that explains the blush,' Maynard thought sullenly.
Bess hurried on. "And he's really nice, and he's from the stations, and we're going out to dinner tonight."
Maynard choked on his food. "From the stations! And you're going out with him tonight! Bess, what are you thinking?"
"Now, Daddy, don't get all upset." Bess mentally scolded herself for mentioning the stations, but it was too late now. "He's a nice man, and I see no reason not to go out with him if I want to."
Maynard put his fork down and stared at his daughter. "You don't see any reason not to go out with him, do you? Well, I see plenty of reasons. This is only going to cause you trouble, my girl. Don't you see that?"
"What kind of trouble can a harmless date cause?"
"You must be joking! You know the reputation these Station Res' have! They pick up innocent Earth girls like you, take advantage of them, and then head back to where they came from. Never coming back and leaving a trail of broken hearts and shattered reputations behind them!"
Bess nearly laughed but quickly realized her father was totally serious. She looked at his distraught face with tenderness and understanding.
"Daddy, he's not like that." Seeing the look of disbelief on her father's face, Bess quickly continued. "Honest! He's quiet, almost shy." Bess smiled as she all but spoke to herself. "Very considerate, kind, gentle, funny...and even a little goofy!" She laughed. "It's obvious that he's never been to Earth before. But he's not slick and polished, trying to impress me with fancy words and flashing his money around."
Maynard shook his head. "That's just another ploy they use to try and lure you in. Don't be fooled by it, Bess."
Bess placed a reassuring hand on her father's arm. "Daddy, this is me you're talking to. The child you taught to look life squarely in the eye and take as it came...and give as good as she gets. Now I've got to get to work." Bess got up from her chair and gave her father a hug. "Don't worry, Daddy, I know what I'm doing."
As Maynard watched his daughter walk out the door, he had one last thought. "I hope you do, my girl, I truly do hope you do.'
(Morgan)
Morgan walked down to the restaurant where Bess worked. His rationalization was that he needed to eat breakfast anyway. But, of course, it was just so he could see Bess. Unfortunately for Morgan's plans, the restaurant was amazingly busy. Every table was taken, but Morgan managed to find a seat at the counter. He waved to Bess as she walked by, and her smile of pleasure at seeing him made Morgan warm all over. He hoped that she would be working behind the counter, but it was Frank who came up to take his order.
"Oh, you're back," was Frank's surly greeting. "What do you want?"
"Coffee and toast will be fine," Morgan replied, watching Bess go into the kitchen.
Frank poured the coffee and put two pieces of bread in to toast. Returning with the food, Frank watched Morgan watch Bess. "Look, buddy, a piece of advice. Stay away from her. She's a good kid and doesn't need to get her heart broken by the likes of you."
Morgan was startled by Frank's comments. He was aware that Frank didn't like him. However, he thought it was because Frank had designs on Bess himself, not because he felt protective of her.
Morgan looked at Frank steadily. "I'm not going to break her heart, okay?"
"Yeah, well, see that you don't." With that, Frank went back to his work.
Morgan tried in vain to get a moment to talk with Bess, but she was too busy. So he contented himself with watching her work. She performed her duties like a pro, carrying heavy trays of food from the kitchen to the tables and returning with heavy dishpans filled with dirty dishes. Morgan's resolve to take her away from this drudgery strengthened with each passing minute.
Morgan knew he could watch her all day, but he wanted to get his meeting with Maynard Klempt over with as soon as possible. So forcing himself off the seat, Morgan turned to leave and came face to face with Bess.
"Hi," he whispered.
"Hi, yourself," she answered.
"Busy this morning, huh?"
"Yeah. Real busy."
"I had a great time last night."
"Me too."
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
"So, I'll see you tonight, then."
"Right. 1700 sharp."
"1700 sharp."
"Bye, Morgan."
"Bye, Bess."
Morgan floated out of the restaurant.
And crash landed in the Zone 3 Copper Mine Operations Office.
"Mr. Klempt, you cannot hold the station government responsible for using equipment you knew was old and in disrepair."
"I can and I will, Mr. Martin. That piece of equipment was vital to our mining operations. Without it, we'd have to shut down. I was told over and over that a replacement piece would be delivered. Until then, we were to carry on as usual. Those were their exact words. *Carry on as usual.* What was I supposed to do?"
They had been at it for two hours. For every argument Maynard Klempt offered, Morgan countered with the company line. Neither was going to give an inch.
"Look, Mr. Klempt. There's really nothing I, personally, can do about this," Morgan said for what felt like the thousandth time. "All I can do is report back to my supervisor with the details. It will be up to him to decide if a full-scale investigation is warranted."
"Okay, fine," Klempt relented. "But will you do me one thing?"
Morgan looked warily at the man seated across from him. This sudden acquiescence after hours of arguing the same points over and over put Morgan on his guard.
"Perhaps. What is the favor?"
Maynard Klempt leaned forward as if to confide in Morgan. "Your report will be the determining factor on whether or not the horrid conditions down here ever get investigated. You can word that report in just the right manner so as to ensure that such an investigation will take place. Will you do that?"
Morgan knew that rocking the boat was a sure way of ending up on the receiving end of a pink slip. Morgan couldn't jeopardize his career. So he answered the man before him the only way he knew how, still keep his job, and manage to get out of this office.
"I'll do the best I can."
Klempt looked down at his hands and then back up at Morgan. "Yeah, I'm sure you will."
Dismissed, Morgan left the office and went back to his hotel.
(Morgan and Bess)
The time was 1700, and Morgan was standing outside of "Bess' Restaurant' as he had come to think of it. Actually, he'd been there for quite a while just so he could be closer to her. He was wondering if he was becoming obsessed. He supposed he was, but it was such a pleasant obsession. A few minutes later, Bess walked out the door, took one look at him, and laughed right out loud.
"Morgan, what are you wearing?" she exclaimed.
Morgan shrugged his shoulders and looked down at his clothes. "Well, I hadn't expected an overnight visit, let alone two. I had been wearing the same suit for two days. I decided I had better find something else to wear."
Morgan had spent the afternoon getting ready for this night out with Bess. He scouted around until he found what passed for a fairly decent place to eat. Then he found a nightclub that promised entertainment of a higher caliber than one would normally expect to find on Earth. Deciding a change of clothes would be in order, he searched the stores until he found something bordering on passable. However new the clothes might be, it was obvious they were below the standard he was used to judging from the suit he came here in.
"Am I presentable?" Morgan asked worriedly.
"You look fine," Bess assured him. She looked expectantly at Morgan who looked at her in return. It suddenly occurred to him that Bess had given special consideration to her own wardrobe. The dress she wore was substantially nicer than the clothes she had been working in the night before. Though it, too, was of an inferior quality to station fashions, Morgan didn't care. She looked beautiful. And he told her so. Bess rewarded him with a radiant smile.
"Shall we be off?" Morgan asked and he extended his arm to Bess. She took it and they headed down the walkway.
Bess' eyes widened in delight as they entered the restaurant Morgan chose making it obvious to him that he had chosen well. The hostess showed them to their table and presented them with menus.
They enjoyed a surprisingly good meal and picked up their conversation right where they left off. When dinner was over, Morgan suggested that they head over to the nightclub he found, but Bess demurred.
"That place will be so crowded and noisy," she explained. "Why don't we just take a walk like we did last night. Then we can talk some more."
That idea was eminently agreeable to Morgan and so they found themselves, once again, wandering the walkways with particular destination in mind. They again talked of everything and nothing, seeming desperate to fill a lifetime into a few short hours. Morgan reached out and took her hand in his as they walked. Bess looked up at him and smiled as her hand relaxed in his. Morgan had never been happier.
Without warning, Morgan heard the question he'd be fearing all night and his heart froze in his chest.
"When are you going back home?"
She said it casually, but the expression on her face belied that casualness. Morgan saw a bench up ahead and he guided her towards it. Sitting down, he took both of her hands in his and looked deep into her eyes.
"Bess, we have to talk."
In rapid succession, expressions of sadness, expectation, and acceptance replaced the look of happiness on Bess' face. Taking a deep breath, she quickly said, "That's okay, Morgan. I understand. Hey, it's been a fun two days, though, huh?"
"No, Bess, you don't understand," Morgan began but she interrupted him.
"Don't, Morgan. Don't spoil it." She withdrew her hands from his. "Look, I didn't go into this with any expectations and I don't..."
"I love you."
"...want you to feel that you...what?"
"I love you."
"You love me?"
"Yes, I do."
Bess' hand flew to cover her mouth. "Oh, my." she murmured quietly.
Morgan took her hands in his again as he leaned his face close to hers. "I love you," he whispered. Bess reached a hand up to caress his face. "I love you, too," she whispered back.
Morgan leaned closer and gently pressed his lips to hers. Bess softly returned his kiss and time stood still.
A million years later, or so it seemed, they separated and looked at each other. Their worlds had changed but their circumstances hadn't.
"So, where do we go from here?" Bess asked.
"I'm not sure, Bess," Morgan admitted. "I just know that I can't let you walk out of my life now."
Bess smiled playfully. "Planning on moving to Earth?"
Morgan couldn't stop a look of horror from crossing his face. "No!" came his all too quick reply. Managing to look chagrined, Morgan quickly got himself back under control. "I mean, no, that isn't what I had in mind."
Bess laughed. "That's okay. So, what did you have in mind?"
Morgan sighed. He had to do what he had to do. This was his life he was talking about after all. He knew he couldn't live without her.
"Bess, will you marry me?"
"Yes," she said quickly with her heart before her mind could say no.
Morgan managed to look dazed, relieved, and ecstatic all at the same time. Taking her in his arms, he buried his face in her hair. "Oh, Bess, I promise to make you the happiest woman in the world." he said.
Bess leaned back and looked him straight in the eye. "You already have."
END OF CHAPTER 4
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The Station Chronicles: Martin Advance (5/6)
by Mary BrickCHAPTER 5
(Bess)
"He what!" Jane screamed out loud.
"Shhhhh," Bess said frantically. She ran out of her room and glanced around the small unit. No-one was there. Racing back to her room, she closed the door and returned to her place on the bed. "If my father comes home and hears you, we'll both be dead!"
"Tell me, tell me, tell me. Everything! Don't leave anything out!" Jane whispered.
"Jane, I've told you everything! How we met, what we did, and that he proposed to me!" Bess looked at her friend, still in shock at the events that occurred only 12 hours before.
Jane looked in awe at her friend. "Bess, are you sure?"
"No, yes...oh, I don't know!" Bess moaned. "It's all so crazy! But I do know one thing. I do love him. That I know."
Jane's eyes welled up with tears. For all the dreams that Earth women had of a better life, they were a realistic group and not easily taken in by flights of fancy. If Bess said she loved this guy, then it must be true.
"Oh, Bess!" Jane reached over and hugged Bess tightly as they both started to cry. "I'm so happy for you!"
Bess leaned back and looked at Jane's tear-streaked face and started to laugh. "What's so funny?" Jane asked indignantly.
"Both of us! Carrying on like a couple of fools. Jane, I can't marry Morgan!"
"What!"
"Think about it. I've known him for two days and I'm going to marry him? Get serious. He's sure as hell not going to move down here. So, what am I supposed to do? Pack everything up and move to the stations? Leave my father?" Bess' eyes widened in shock. "My father! What am I supposed to tell him? "Daddy, I've met a wonderful man and fell in love in two days and I'm marrying him and moving to the stations'? Oh, he warned me this would happen." Bess fell prostrate on her bed, totally drained from the seesawing emotions of the past two days.
Jane couldn't believe her ears. "But, Bess, this is what you've dreamed about!"
"That's just it, Jane. Dreamed. It's all a dream. It isn't real. It's a fantasy. A wonderful, sublime fantasy that I'll cherish all the days of my life, but that I can't possibly hope will come true."
Jane's heart broke at the look of sheer anguish on her friend's face. "Bess, I'm the last one to tell you what to do. Only yesterday I was telling you to grab onto Joey. But this is different. I can see it in your eyes."
Bess' face softened as she thought of Morgan. His crooked grin, his soulful blue-black eyes, his look of adoration when he thought she didn't notice. He loved her, of that she was certain. But would it be enough?
(Morgan and Bess)
Morgan stunned his supervisor with a request for another planetside assignment. "The sooner the better," he had said. The report Morgan had given was pretty much as expected. The accident was due to basic equipment failure and no further investigation would be necessary. So, why not? If the man wanted to go, who was he to stop him?
And so, two weeks later, Morgan found himself at the restaurant with his heart pounding and his palms sweaty. He couldn't wait to see Bess again. He walked in and went to the counter. A strange woman was clearing away some dirty dishes. Morgan looked around. Bess was nowhere to be seen.
"Can I help you?" the woman asked.
"I'm looking for Bess. Is she here?" Morgan asked.
"No, today's her day off," was the response.
Morgan was momentarily stunned. It never occurred to him that she wouldn't be here. Frantically, he realized that he didn't know where she lived. For that matter, he didn't even know her full name. "I can't believe it,' he thought. "I asked this woman to marry me and I don't even know her last name!'
"Could you tell me where she lives?" Morgan asked. "It's important."
Jane looked Morgan over. She knew who he was. She even thought about torturing him for a while, but he looked so pathetic. Taking pity on him, she wrote Bess' address on a piece of paper, gave it to Morgan, and watched in amusement as he bolted out the door. "Bess has nothing to worry about,' she thought. "That man has it bad!'
Morgan hailed an autocab and gave the address. Mentally urging the vehicle to go faster, Morgan took no notice this time of its shabbiness nor the bumpiness of the ride. Seeing Bess again was the only thing on his mind.
The autocab stopped at a residential area. Morgan jumped out and checked the address. Finding the right building, Morgan entered what passed for a lobby. Not willing to wait for the elevator, he walked up the three flights of stairs and found the right unit. He knocked on the door and began anticipating the look of surprise on Bess' face when she saw him. However, the look of surprise was on Morgan's face as the door opened. For standing in the doorway was Maynard Klempt.
It was obvious from the expression on Klempt's face that he remembered Morgan all too well. "Mr. Martin," he said with contempt. "What are you doing here?"
"I, uh, I must have the wrong address," Morgan stammered. He prayed he had the wrong address.
Then he heard her voice.
"Daddy, who is it?"
Daddy?!
Bess came up behind her father and saw Morgan standing in the doorway. "Morgan!" she cried in surprise, her eyes shining with happiness.
Morgan put his hands up to cover his face. "Oh no," he groaned. "This can't be happening."
Maynard Klempt stepped back and looked at his daughter. "Bess," he said dangerously. "Do you know this man?"
"Yes, Daddy, I do. He's the one I was telling you about."
Klempt looked at his daughter's happy face and remembered the glowing way she talked about him for the past two weeks. He also remembered telling her about the man who apparently refused to help them get the mining conditions investigated. She had agreed with him that such a man must be totally worthless. He considered telling her that they were one and the same, but he couldn't. At least not yet, not until he had a chance to talk to Morgan first.
Morgan stood in the doorway, his life hanging in the balance. He was afraid to say anything until Mr. Klempt did. He held his breath and prayed, but the man said nothing. Finally, Klempt opened the door wider and motioned for Morgan to come in. Morgan started to breath again as he crossed the threshold. Bess wrapped him in a bear hug, and Morgan held on to her as if for dear life.
Klempt watched them for a moment. He recognized love when he saw it, and he knew that these two were in it deep. He knew then that he would never say anything to Bess about Morgan. He could never hurt her that way. But, he determined that he would make sure that this man never hurt his daughter, either.
"I suppose you two would like to be alone," Klempt said. "I'll be in the other room."
Bess leaned over and kissed her father on the cheek. "Thanks, Daddy," she said as she watched him walk down the hall and disappear into the other room. Bess then led Morgan to the living room. She stopped and turned to face Morgan.
The two weeks Morgan was stationside were torture for Bess. Her feelings changed with the hour. She knew she loved Morgan and that he loved her. But her fear of it not being enough kept her in turmoil. She determined to tell him that maybe they had better not talk about marriage just yet.
Until she saw him at the front door facing her father. Something passed between them. What it was she didn't know. But her father seemed to pass immediate judgment on Morgan and that judgment was not in his favor. Bess knew in that moment that she would defy even her father to marry Morgan. It wasn't a child's wish to oppose a parent, but a woman's desire to be with the man she loved. It was at that moment that Bess knew that no matter what happened in the future, she would have enough love to sustain them both.
"I've missed you," she said, hugging him again.
"I've missed you, too," he replied as he leaned in for a kiss. It was as wonderful as the first time, and Morgan didn't want it to end. But he was extremely conscious of Bess' father in the next room and that had a dampening effect on his exuberance.
They sat close on the sofa and caught each other up on the events of the past two weeks. It didn't take long and they fell into a comfortable silence, just enjoying being together again. Morgan suddenly remembered something and reached into his pocket. He brought out a long, flat box which he placed in Bess' hands.
"Oh, Morgan, you shouldn't have," Bess exclaimed in delight. "What is it?"
Morgan smiled shyly. "It's sort of an engagement present. Open it."
Bess opened the box and peeled back the tissue paper. Nestled on a bed of cotton was a bracelet made of onyx set in silver. Actually, it was simulated onyx set in simulated silver, sitting on a bed of simulated cotton for that matter. But to Bess it was perfect all same.
"Oh, Morgan, it's beautiful! Here, help me put it on."
Morgan clasped the bracelet to her wrist. "I'm glad you like it," he said, taking her hand in his.
"I do. I promise I'll never take it off." She hugged him tightly. "But I didn't get anything for you," she said in dismay.
"That's okay. This is all I need," he whispered as he kissed her again and again.
Morgan and Bess spent the following weeks planning their life together. As certain as they were in their love for each other and their decision to marry, there was hesitancy in finalizing their plans. When Morgan finally admitted that he was afraid of telling his father that he wanted to marry a girl he'd known for such a short time, especially an Earth girl, Bess sighed in relief. She had been afraid that he had changed his mind after all. She admitted that she was having similar feelings about telling her own father. They laughed at the absurdity of their feelings. They were adults, and it wasn't like they were doing anything wrong. After all, they were only getting married.
The day finally came when Morgan took Bess to meet his father and announce their impending marriage. Though he had warned her that Preston Martin would be rigorously opposed to their marriage, Morgan hoped that when his father actually met Bess, he would see how wonderful she was. Preston had been coolly polite while in Bess' presence, but once he had Morgan alone, he let him know how displeased he was.
"I cannot believe that you would actually jeopardize your already shaky career by marrying this woman," was Preston Martin's angry assessment of his son's choice of a marriage partner.
Morgan wasn't surprised and, had the situation been about anything else, Morgan would have taken the criticism without comment. But this was Bess he was maligning, and Morgan actually stood up to his father for the first time in his life.
"Bess is a wonderful woman and the best thing that has ever happened to me," Morgan said firmly. "She may not be what you consider a suitable wife. But you know what? I'm not marrying her for her suitability. I'm marrying her because I love her."
"Is that right?" Preston said derisively. "I don't seem to recall love being such an important factor the first time you married."
Morgan froze and prayed that Bess couldn't hear them in the other room. He had never told Bess about his first, disastrous marriage. It had been a youthful folly that only lasted three months. Nevertheless, even in that short a period of time, Morgan had cheated on his wife. The affair had had no bearing on their decision to divorce. However, Morgan feared Bess wouldn't see it that way after she told him of the appalling way that men treated women on Earth. Within days of meeting Bess, Morgan had managed to get all traces of the marriage removed from the station records in the hopes that she would never find out. It was the one secret he would always keep from Bess.
"I knew you wouldn't understand," Morgan said sadly.
Preston rolled his eyes. "What's to understand? You've got the hots for some gold-digging Earth Res and have convinced yourself it's love."
"I don't have to sit here and listen to this," Morgan said, amazed at the fearlessness in his voice. "Frankly, I don't even know why I'm here. I don't need your permission and I don't want your blessing. Bess and I are getting married. I just thought you'd like to know."
Preston Martin was stunned into silence. Knowing this was his only chance at keeping the advantage, Morgan left the room. Grabbing Bess by the hand, he left his father's house forever.
Morgan knew that telling Bess' father of their decision to marry would be equally as difficult. At first, Morgan felt that if he could stand up to his own father, he'd have no problem with Bess'. However, the longer they put it off, the longer Morgan had to think about it. And the more he thought about it, the more agitated he became. Morgan had had very little contact with Bess' father when he saw her on Earth. The worst time was when he first asked to take Bess stationside for a visit. The meeting started off badly when Klempt asked him "What is it about my daughter, Mr. Martin, that makes you want to take her stationside?" and got progressively worse as Morgan tried to find an answer that would satisfy him. He never did, but he did manage to get his permission. Morgan was certain that it was more his desire for his daughter's happiness than anything Morgan had said that made him agree.
Apparently, Bess' happiness meant a great deal to Maynard Klempt for he offered no argument as Bess calmly told him that she was going to marry Morgan Martin. He was even civil to Morgan at the simple, Catholic ceremony that Morgan had agreed to have on Earth just so he could attend. Afterwards, he went with them to the shuttle terminal to say good-bye as Bess left Earth to start her new life on the stations. While they waited, he took Bess aside. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small pendant on a string. It was a lucite disk with a tiny flower inside.
Pressing it into her hand, he said, "I'm not a sentimental man, but when I saw this it reminded me of you. The last wildflower on Earth. I want you to have it so you'll always remember who you are and where you come from."
He hugged Bess tightly for a long time. Releasing her, he placed the pendant around her neck. Over the loudspeaker, they heard the announcement that the shuttle was ready for boarding. Joining Morgan, Maynard Klempt took Bess' hand and placed it in Morgan's.
"Make sure you take care of my daughter, Mr. Martin," he said solemnly.
Morgan looked from Bess to her father. "You have my word."
Bess hugged her father one last time. "Don't worry, Daddy. I'll be all right," she said, her voice cracking with emotion. "I love you, Daddy."
"I love you, too, little girl." Giving her one last squeeze, he released her and watched her board the shuttle. It was a long time before Maynard Klempt could bring himself to leave and return to his now empty home.
Morgan and Bess quickly adjusted to the routine of married life. Not needing to work, Bess filled her days turning Morgan's bachelor unit into a cozy home. Each day was a new adventure for Bess as she searched the stores for new treasures. She was continually amazed at the abundance of items available, for the stores on Earth were never so well stocked. At first she was shocked at the prices, but soon realized that Morgan's salary would allow her to more than satisfy her needs. Bess was quite adept at making something from nothing, so she was able to decorate their home without causing undue anguish to her frugal nature.
Selfish with each other as only newlyweds can be, Morgan and Bess were quite content to spend most of their evenings alone. This suited Bess just fine. Though she would never admit it to Morgan, Bess was uncomfortable with most of the people Morgan introduced her to. They were all born on the stations and, therefore, had a superior attitude towards her. Morgan seemed unaware of this, and Bess didn't tell him for fear of coming between him and his friends, especially since most of his friends were people he worked with. Bess was highly conscious of presenting herself well to them. Though she knew Morgan loved her, she also knew that if he could hide the fact that she was born and raised on Earth, he would. But since that truth would eventually come out in even the most casual of conversations, Bess was always on guard to make sure she gave them nothing to gossip about. Class distinctions were rigid on the stations. The slightest hint of taint would ruin a career or cause one's place in the social pecking order to slip.
Eager to be with his new wife, Morgan didn't spend as much time at work as he had before. He also stopped volunteering for planetside assignments now that Bess was permanently stationside. This troubled Bess because she had hoped she could accompany Morgan on those trips to visit her father and the friends she had left behind. It eventually became a source of consternation between them as Morgan constantly found excuses not to go to Earth. He told her she was a Station Resident now and should forget about her former life. This Bess refused to do. Though her trips never lasted more than a few days, Morgan holocalled her frequently, begging her to come home. And when she did get home, he would sulk for hours. In due time, his good spirits would return, and he would again be her sweet, loving Morgan. So Bess' trips to Earth became more and more infrequent. She eventually convinced herself it was a small price to pay to keep her husband happy.
END OF CHAPTER 5
Send feedback to maryb@mitretek.org
The Station Chronicles: Martin Advance (6/6)
by Mary BrickCHAPTER 6
Bess was standing at the kitchen counter getting ready to start dinner when Morgan burst through the front door.
"Bess!" he shouted excitedly. "Bess, where are you?"
She ran out of the kitchen and met him in the living room. "Morgan, honey, I'm right here. What's the matter?"
Morgan threw his briefcase on the coffee table. Taking Bess in his arms, he waltzed her around the room. "Put on your best party dress, sweetie. We are going out celebrating!" he said, laughing and dancing and basically carrying on like a lunatic.
Bess laughed with him though she was thoroughly confused at his outrageous behavior. "Morgan Martin, what has gotten into you?" she exclaimed.
Stopping in mid-dance step, Morgan released Bess with a flourish and bowed gracefully to her. "You, my dear," he said with great aplomb, "are looking at the new Government Liaison to the Eden Project."
"Eden...?" Bess began but Morgan interrupted her.
"Excuse me, let me rephrase that. You are looking at the new *Level Four* Government Liaison to the Eden Project." He struck a pose as he saw Bess' eyes widen with excitement.
"You got a promotion!" she exclaimed. "Oh, Morgan, I'm so proud of you!" She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
"Yes, I did and we are going out to Paley's to celebrate," he announced.
"Paley's!" Bess repeated. "That's the most expensive restaurant on the station. We can't afford that!"
"Oh, yes, we can," Morgan contradicted. "With the raise I got, we can afford to eat there every night of the week if we want." He grabbed Bess up in a bear hug and swung her around the room.
"Morgan, put me down before you drop me," she said, laughing and out of breath. While he did as instructed, she continued, "Now, tell me all about this promotion."
Morgan gave her a gentle push towards their bedroom. "All in due time, my wonderful wife, all in due time. Now, go get dressed. We have reservations for 1900 and we can't be late."
As the maitre d' led them to their table, Morgan was reminded of their first dinner together in the shabby restaurant on Earth. He realized how far they'd come since then. And how far they were going to go, figuratively and literally.
After they were served their meal, Morgan proposed a toast. "Here's to new beginnings." He sipped appreciatively of his wine. "I could get used to this," he said with a smile.
Bess set her glass down. "So, tell me all about this promotion," she said eagerly. "It must be a good one to afford all this."
The first hint of uncertainty crossed Morgan's face. Recovering quickly, he took a deep breath and smiled.
"Okay. It's like this. As I said, I've been promoted to Level Four, in fact, a deputy secretary's position," Morgan said proudly. "The promotion includes a transfer to the Department for Interstellar Development."
Bess looked impressed. "Deputy Secretary for Interstellar Development. Sounds important."
"Well, now that you mention it, I have been given a very important assignment." Morgan hesitated. "Have you heard of the Eden Project?"
Bess thought for a moment. "Eden Project? Sounds familiar. Eden Proj..." Bess' eyes grew wide with sudden comprehension. "Morgan, isn't that the project Devon Adair is working on? The one to cure the Syndrome children?"
Morgan nodded. "The one and the same."
"But, Morgan, isn't she taking a shipful of people to another planet?" Morgan nodded, slower this time. "What exactly do you have to do with this?"
"Bess, honey, I'm going with them."
Bess stared at Morgan, dumfounded. "You can't be serious! You can't possibly."
Morgan put up a hand to stop her. "Let me explain. Devon Adair has this son with the Syndrome. Her theory is that it's caused by some lack of nature or the sterile station environment or some such thing. Anyway, she's found a planet that is very much like Earth." Seeing a look of confusion cross Bess' face, Morgan corrected himself. "No, not like Earth is now. Like it was years and years ago. Clean and all that. Anyway, she's got this idea that if the Syndrome children were on a planet that was clean and natural, they would get better. She's got a group of families that wants to go. So she's going to take them there and set up a colony for them."
"And where do you fit in?"
"The department is very interested in what she is doing. So I'm the government liaison for the project. I'm to go with Adair on the advance ship and monitor the set-up for the colony."
"The advance ship?"
"Yeah. The advance ship will get to G889 first, giving her time to check out the planet and get New Pacifica set up." Morgan shrugged. "New Pacifica, that's what she's calling it. Don't ask me where she got the name. Anyway, when the colony ship arrives, they'll drop off the families who are staying and return to the stations."
"And how long will this whole trip take?"
Morgan fidgeted with his wineglass, not daring to look at Bess. "Well, counting the time it takes to get there and back and the time on the planet waiting for the colony ship…," Morgan stopped and at looked at Bess. "Forty-six years."
Bess sat back in her chair, stunned. "Forty-six years,' she whispered. She looked at Morgan steadily, tears welling in her eyes. "I can't believe you took it."
Morgan sighed. "Bess, they assigned me to it. I had no choice. It was either take it or lose my job."
A tear rolled down Bess' cheek. "I can't believe that your job is so important to you that you would leave me for 46 years."
It was Morgan's turn to be stunned. "Bess, no!" he said quickly. "Bess, honey, how could you think such a thing? I'm not leaving you." He took Bess' hand in his. "You're going with me," he said with a smile.
"What!?!" Bess couldn't believe her ears. "Morgan, I can't go with you!"
Morgan's smile faltered. "Bess, honey, you don't understand. You have to go with me!"
"Oh, no I don't." Bess shook her head emphatically. "I can't go that far away from home."
Morgan sat back in his chair, totally stunned. This was not going the way he planned at all. "Bess..." he began.
"Morgan, please. Let's not talk about it here. I want to go home." Bess rose from her chair and walked to the door.
Morgan quickly paid the check and followed her out. The ride home was made in total silence, Bess too stunned to speak because of Morgan's news and Morgan too stunned to speak because of her reaction.
Arriving home, Bess immediately turned on Morgan. "Just what were you thinking when you took that assignment without consulting me?" she demanded.
Morgan was at a total loss for words. He just looked at his wife as if he didn't know her. "Bess, I don't think you understand."
"Oh, yes, I do." Bess was livid. "You were so busy climbing the Government ladder that you didn't think for one minute how a change like this might affect me! You just made a decision that will affect our lives forever." Tears welled up in her eyes as she continued. "If I go with you, I'll never see my father again! Did you think about that?"
Morgan placed a hand on her arm. "Bess, calm down. Let's...."
"Don't tell me to calm down," she retorted, shaking off his hand. "Answer my question."
Morgan couldn't look his wife in the eye. "Yes," he said quietly. "I thought about that."
"And you took the job anyway?" Bess looked at Morgan in amazement. "I never knew my feelings meant so little to you."
"Bess, how can you say that? You are my whole world. You are everything to me. Why else would I insist that you go with me?"
"Morgan, did it ever occur to you to not take the job?"
"I never thought you'd react this way," Morgan replied.
"How else was I supposed to react? You uprooted my life once, but I accepted that. And now that I'm finally comfortable here, you want to uproot my life again. Tell me, how was I supposed to react?" Bess shook her head. "I just don't understand you sometimes, Morgan Martin. I just don't understand you at all." With that, she ran into their bedroom and closed the door.
Morgan moved to follow her, but knew it was futile. He looked around the living room where just a few short hours ago they'd been so happy about his news. Now it had all fallen apart. Needing time to think, he walked out of the unit and started wandering aimlessly down the corridor.
Bess heard the door shut as Morgan left. She wasn't concerned. He needed time to think. They both needed time to think. Bess thought about her life since she met Morgan. All in all it was a good life. Leaving Earth hadn't been so bad. Station life certainly had its advantages. And Morgan was a good husband. Oh, sure, he had his moments of selfishness, but never about anything serious. And she was always able to make him see the error of his ways. He always came around. The only problem was Morgan's relationship with her father. Sure he didn't like visiting Earth, but he did when he was courting her. Why he never would go back to see her father always bewildered Bess. He usually did what she asked, but on this he was adamant. It was as if he was afraid of her father. Why that should be Bess couldn't fathom. It's not like there was some deep, dark secret that her father held over Morgan's head. But she eventually got over that and visited him on her own. She was sorry that they never got along, but there didn't seem to be anything she could do about it.
Now Morgan wanted to take her away again; this time forever. Oh, it wouldn't really be forever, but she'd never see her father again. And all for what? Morgan's job! Really. Didn't he see that no job was worth her not seeing her father again?
"But you did marry him...for better or worse...forsaking all others,' Bess told herself. Didn't that include her father? She did seem to make a great many sacrifices where Morgan was concerned. But in spite of all that, her love for him was stronger than ever. So was her need for him. She always said she would follow him to the ends of the earth. And now it looked like she would have that chance.
(Present)
"The ends of the earth," Bess whispered into the darkness. She thought of her last meeting with her father just yesterday afternoon. Bess tried to be strong. But as she held her father in one last embrace, she felt him trembling and she broke down and wept. He gently stroked her hair as he tried to hold back his own tears. This wasn't like when she left for the stations. This time they knew they'd never see each other again. "Bess, honey, it will be all right," he whispered. "But, Daddy," she protested. "No," he cut her off, looking her straight in the eye. "You have to do what you must. Haven't I always taught you that?" Bess nodded. "I love you, Daddy." Taking Bess' hand in his, Maynard Klempt took one long last look at his little girl. "I love you, too, Bess." Over the loud speaker they heard the final boarding call for Bess' shuttle to the stations. Her father released her hand. "Now, go and make me proud."
Bess wiped away a stray tear that ran down her cheek. She would miss her father terribly. It was the one regret she had about leaving for G889. She heard the front door open and watched as Morgan quietly entered the room. Her heart surged with love for her husband. She understood that he needed her to be with him on this trip, and she knew that she would not fail him.
"Morgan, honey, are you all right?" she asked.
Morgan sat down beside her and gave her a hug. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about leaving tomorrow. I didn't want to wake you, so I decided to take a walk. I ended up at this cafe. I kept thinking about things. The past, mostly. My parents. School. Work. You." Morgan smiled. "A lot about you."
Bess smiled back at Morgan. "I know what you mean. I've been doing the same thing."
Morgan looked at his wife. "No regrets?"
Bess smiled and shook her head. "None. I have a feeling it's going to be all right." Morgan looked a her skeptically. "As long as we're together, nothing bad can happen. Trust me."
-The End-
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This text file was ran through PERL script made by Andy. Original text file is available in Andy's Earth 2 Fan Fiction Archive.