Molly Fyde and the Parsona Rescue

prison sentence kids endured before they got to do the stuff they wanted to do.

The first week had been particularly torturous. Molly came into the school with the high expectations instilled by the Navy. It was a philosophy that clashed at Avalon, where tardiness and procrastination were the norm. Here, kids celebrated whoever got away with the worst behavior while shunning anyone attempting to do the right thing.

It was an attractive scheme, easy to be lured into if one was soft. Molly decided early on that she would not become like them. At the same time, she didn’t want to ruffle feathers or hurt feelings, so she decided to view Avalon High as just another tactical dilemma. She saw herself surrounded by aliens, and she could either let them defeat her the way the last bunch had, or make the best of it.

She chose the latter, using the slow time to educate herself in the things the Navy had neglected to teach. Once her teachers saw the quality of her work, they stopped asking her to put away the pleasure reading, which is why she could read while her classmates bent over a math test. She watched them scribble furiously, testing the multiple-choice offerings to see which ones created the least ridiculous results. Five months ago, she had been solving integrals in her head while worrying a wrong answer might get her and Cole killed.

Cole.

The smallest things reminded her of him. She found herself constantly wondering what he was doing at that very moment. Last semester it had been an easy game to play, what with the rigidity of the Academy. She could look at the time and know he was sitting in the simulator, or working out in the gym, or falling asleep during Space Strategics 202.

After winter break, she had no sense of what his schedule might be. He was everywhere and nowhere, so the game wasn’t as enjoyable anymore. Eventually Molly realized: she wasn’t having fun with wondering where Cole was, she was just fantasizing about where she should be. As hard as she struggled to accept this new life, some part of her still longed to be back at the Academy. Even as a navigator and Saunders’s “whipping boy,” she still had those hours of performing well in the simulator. And Cole.

“Time’s up, class.” Mrs. Stintson rapped her desk with her moon-rock paperweight, creating a beat for the chorus of groans. Pencils slapped desktops in frustration. Somebody continued to scratch away.

“TIME, Jordan.” One more pencil smacked down.

When the bell rang, everyone filed up to the teacher’s desk with their tests, transforming glum into good cheer. The weekend. And Spring Break was just a week away.

Molly programmed a bookmark in Jim Eats Corn and shoved the reader and her computer into her bag. As she stood and stretched, Mrs. Stintson caught her eye and waved her over.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Someone here to see you. Check in with the office on your way out.”

“Yes, ma’am. Have a nice weekend.”

A visitor? Molly couldn’t think of anyone who knew her outside of the school and the Academy. And nobody from the latter would be caught dead here. Vaguely intrigued, she ambled toward the door thinking of Jim’s problems with the corn harvest, unaware of how profoundly her life was about to change.

Mrs. Stintson watched her prized student file out before sliding Molly’s test out from the bottom of the pile, placing it on top.

••••

As soon as Molly opened the door to the school office, she knew who her visitor was. She knew it before she even saw him. It was in the way that all of the women were holding themselves. Even the Vice Principal was attempting to stand at attention.

Admiral Lucin.

Molly dropped her bag and went over to hug him. It was one of the small joys of being out of the Academy. She didn’t see him as often as she would like, but he was a friend again. The infrequent hugs always helped heal some of the pain that seeing his uniform caused.

“Hello, Wonderful.” He held her tight.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had business this weekend.”

“Well, this is part of my business. I’m here on official duty. They were going to send some flunky to break the news but I told them they were out of their minds.” He looked around the office and then out through the smudged windows. “Let’s go outside so we can talk.”

Now Molly was really confused. What official business could the Navy have with her? Once you were out of the Academy, there was no going back. Ever. If they made an exception, it wouldn’t be for a girl. Would it?

She led Lucin out through two double doors and into the school courtyard. A handful of students were still hurrying off to their weekend, so the two friends sat on a bench off in one corner. A Japanese cherry tree provided some shade and left a carpet of pink blossoms to stir in the breeze.

Lucin took in a deep breath and admired the campus. “It’s beautiful out here,” he said.

“Yeah,” Molly agreed. “I eat lunch over there in the grass. They give us an hour. Beats the old cafeteria with its two-meter ceilings and bare walls.” She compared the two experiences in her mind. She knew this talk was probably not about going back to the Academy, but she still made the comparison. And part of her betrayed the rest in wanting to switch places. “Anyway, what’s orbiting, Lucin?”

“‘What’s orbiting’? Is that the sort of English they’re teaching you here?” He looked at her with mock disapproval.

“Yeah, it’s nebulous.” She said it with a grin and Lucin returned it.

He reached over and tousled her brown hair. “It’s getting long.”

“I’m trying to be normal.”

“And how’s that working out for you, young lady?”

“It’s unique. Being normal.” Molly pursed her lips. She’d never known Lucin to avoid getting straight to the point. Then she understood why he would be the one coming here. Why he was having a hard time bringing it up. Why he would do this at the school. This has nothing to do with the Academy, Molly thought. This is about my father.

Her face must have betrayed it. Lucin’s brows came down in recognition of whatever flashed across her own. He nodded slightly. “We’ve located his ship.” His voice was small and tight.

“Parsona?”

“Yes, Parsona. A Navy operative working undercover on Palan came across it. It was discovered by one of the pirate gangs there and has been impounded. We’re working on getting the paperwork together to get it out of there.”

“On Palan? But that’s on the other side of the galaxy from where Dad was last seen.” Molly leaned back and looked up into the pink blossoms, doing some calculations.

“I’m glad your astralogy hasn’t gone the way of your English,” Lucin joked, a sign he was nervous, or keeping something from her.

“What’re you gonna do with the ship when you get it?”

“That’s why I’m here. Legally, it’s yours. It was all your father had, and he left it to you in his will. The fact it’s been lost for almost ten years doesn’t change that. So eventually, you’ll need to think about what you want to do with it. We’ll need to look over it first, of course. See if there’s a clue in the logs about where he was, signs of struggle, all of that.”

“My father’s dead, Lucin. Don’t give me any hope. I could feel something different in my bones the day he died. It’s hard to explain.”

“There’s no need, I felt it too. Even before I knew he was gone. I’m not saying we’ll be able to find him, or even give him a proper burial. But the Navy needs to know what happened.”

“Why?” Molly felt herself getting a little angry. “He wasn’t in the Navy anymore, remember? Why do you guys care?”

“I care.” Lucin was solemn. “I care, Molly. I want to find out if someone was responsible, and if so, I want to hurt them.” He looked down at the chips of pink color around his feet. “I mean I want to bring them to justice.”