us safe.”
Suddenly, the memory of his anonymous sexual encounter in a room down the hall no longer seemed a pleasant distraction. I really should’ve gotten her name.
Nathan immediately felt the need to defend himself. “Since when did you have aspirations to the presidency? I thought you always said that the real governing was done at the congressional level?”
“I’ve said a lot of things over my lifetime, son. Not all of them have been entirely accurate.”
This came as a surprise to Nathan, not ever remembering his father to admit a mistake so easily.
“But things have changed drastically since we learned about the state of the core systems. The Jung are a real threat, and the population in general doesn’t take it seriously because the enemy is over twenty light years away!” The senator stopped pacing and sat against his desk, facing his son. “We’ve advanced so quickly over the last hundred years, that people aren’t ready to think in terms of light years. It’s still an impossibly distant place to them.”
“But if you do see the Jung as a threat, then why are you so against expanding the Fleet? I would’ve thought that you of all people would support us? Hell, you were all for getting us into space when you were my age.”
“As I said, things have changed,” his father repeated. As usual, Nathan was being short-sighted. It was a failing that his father had recognized in his son at an early age. It wasn’t that he couldn’t see the big picture, he just never bothered.
“What’s changed?” Nathan begged. “What has changed so much that it would cause you to do a complete turnaround in such a short time?”
His father took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he rose from his perch and strolled over to stare out the window again. His son was right, the change in his position on the buildup of the Earth Defense Fleet had completely changed over the last four years. And it had caused a tremendous rift to develop between them. The irony of it was that deep down inside, he knew that his true position had never changed. It was only his public position that he had been forced to change. He only wished that he could find a way to make his son understand without exposing the truth. “It’s complicated,” he finally resigned.
Nathan wanted to press, but he knew that ‘it’s complicated’ meant that his father either didn’t want, or couldn’t talk about it further.
“I have no delusions that you and I are ever going to agree on this,” his father admitted. “Just do me a favor, will you son? No more public shots across my bow until after the election?”
As if on cue, his mother entered the room to end the dispute. “There you are,” she said to her husband as she entered. She suddenly noticed Nathan sitting on the sofa. “Oh, Nathan honey, I didn’t see you.” She kissed her husband on the cheek, noticing the tension in the room. “Am I interrupting?” she asked, knowing full well that she was. Over the last few years, she had developed an uncanny knack of entering the room at just the right moment to break the two of them apart. It seemed impossible, but somehow Nathan was sure that she did it on purpose, and for just that reason.
“Don’t worry, sir,” Nathan assured his father as he rose to leave. “I’ll behave.”
“Nathan,” his mother scolded at his attitude.
“It doesn’t matter anyway. I report for duty on the Reliant tomorrow morning. And she’s scheduled to be underway in a few days for border patrol out in the Oort Cloud.” Nathan kissed his mother’s cheek and gave her a polite hug so as not to mess up her outfit, in case there were more pictures to be taken. “After today the press won’t have access to me for at least a few years. That should get you safely through the election,” he promised his father as he reached out to shake his hand. “Good Luck, sir,” Nathan announced in a show of good faith. The strange thing was, he actually meant it this time.
“Thank you, son.” His father took Nathan’s hand, placing his other hand on Nathan’s shoulder. Despite their differences, the senator dearly loved his youngest child, and was prouder of him than Nathan would ever know. And though he hid it well, the news of his son’s impending departure on a relatively dangerous patrol both shocked and worried him deeply. “Smooth sailing, Ensign.”
Now Nathan too was shocked. For it was the first time his father had called him by his rank. It felt as if he had finally accepted Nathan’s decision to enlist, despite his father’s repeated objections. “I’ll try to keep in touch,” he promised as he turned to leave.
“Yes, please do,” the senator mumbled, more to himself than anyone else in the room.
For a good minute after Nathan had left, the senator and his wife said nothing.
“You have to do something, Dayton,” his wife finally insisted. “You can’t let him go out there. We might never see him again.” There was genuine fear in her voice.
“I’ll try, honey,” the senator promised as he put his arms around her. “I’ll try.”
Nathan stood at the edge of the driveway, waiting for the car that would take him to the airport to catch the next shuttle back to the academy. The party was still in full swing, with the orchestra playing even more lively than before. He could’ve stayed longer, maybe even got lucky again. But after his father’s big announcement, he preferred to lay low until he could get back to safe ground.
He had grown up in a politically active family, and he had tired of it years ago. And that had been one of the reasons he joined the fleet. For it would get him about as far away from all of this as humanly possible.
There had been few options that had appealed to him. His degree in pre-plague history could have landed him a decent career as professor, if he had continued on for his doctorate. But then he still would’ve been subject to the constant scrutiny that resulted from his father’s public service. And he simply couldn’t imagine dealing with that for the rest of his life.
His sisters all had their own careers, and later had all married and started popping out kids in an effort to build the Earth’s population back up to true industrial levels. But he had grown tired of school, tired of family, and certainly tired of politics. And if he had hung around much longer, that’s probably where he too would have ended up.
The fact was, he had needed a change, and a drastic one at that. Military service had never even been a consideration in the past. But the idea of joining the fleet and living out in space, only making it back to Earth every few years? Well that was enticing enough that one slightly drunk night with his buddies was all it had taken to get him to sign ten years of his life away. Even if it had meant another four years of school before getting off the planet.
But the Academy had gone by quickly, and it had been far more interesting than college had ever been. The physical and combat training had been fun as well. Nathan had never considered himself to be athletic, but had discovered he was far more adept at such activities than he would have thought possible. He never considered himself a ‘super-soldier’, but he could hold his own with most of his class.
It had been the simulations that had given him the most trouble. At first, they had been more about hands-on training than anything else. And in that he had excelled. But when they started testing his ability to make command decisions, he felt awkward and unsure of himself. In more than one simulation he had failed to act quick enough to avoid abrupt and catastrophic conclusions.
Nevertheless, he had passed his practical exams in the command simulations. His roommate at the Academy often joked that Nathan’s unusually consistent good luck had gotten him through the sims. And Nathan knew that his friend had been at least partially correct.
So he had graduated the Academy and had been rated as both a navigator and a pilot. He was looking forward to his upcoming duty on the Reliant. She was the fleet’s oldest cruiser, and although she had never fired a shot in anger, she had seen several patrols, having been in service for more than a decade. And with a crew of over 300, Nathan would be just another name on the ship’s roster, probably serving on a backup flight crew on the least favored rotation. And that was fine with him.
“Well, well, well,” his brother’s voice came from behind. “If it isn’t Ensign Scott, the prodigal son, returned home to stir up family dissent one more time.” Eli was a good twelve years older, and he and Nathan had never gotten along.
“Hello, Eli.” Nathan was biting his tongue, trying to remember if there was ever a time the two of them had talked that didn’t end poorly. “What have you been up to?” He was trying to make meaningless small talk, hoping to avoid an argument long enough for his ride to arrive and make his escape.
“Funny you should ask that, Nathan. I should be spending time with my wife and kids, enjoying this wonderful Founders Day celebration. But instead, I spent the better part of an hour bribing a photographer to give up his
