Retirement Plan by Blinkypoet (best way to read books .txt) 📕

He watched as the gray haired woman looked up at the ancient, rusting rockets. Sea birds squalled and wheeled overhead. The Saturn V that lay in sections on its side was better preserved than most of the others and she spent some time examining that. The light wind blew her small gray braids about, but she didn’t bother to rearrange them, walking as though Earth’s gravity was almost too much for her. She braced herself on two ancient arm canes and he wondered idly why she didn’t use a mech-suit or a float-chair. Even the older ones that Johnson Space Center rented were better than nothing.
Four black and white-clad Neo Christians followed her and a brilliant red-suited Space Marine was seemingly glued to her elbow. She must be some high-ranking dignitary to rate that kind of security, he mused.
A crowd of garishly suited Japanese flowed off of the carefully preserved and repaired ground tramcars and the woman hobbled to one side, lowering herself to a bench. Two of the NC’s sat to either side, backs ramrod straight. The other two stood at attention behind her with the Space Marine, whose hair gleamed white in the sun. They ignored him as him as he checked his holo-setup carefully. Only the Space-Marine watched, sky-blue eyes intent on him.
He began his lecture about the great rockets of Earth’s fledgling aero-spaceflight program, but kept one eye on the woman and her guards. Disappointingly, they left half way through his speech and he doubted he would see them again.
The rest of the day was slow, even though there were several trainloads of tourists, even a small group from the non-secular Atealachaan. He addressed their quaint questions in as much detail as he could, ignoring the sneers of the other tourists. After they left, he sighed and shook his head. He remembered how the ancient history books had spoken of the peoples of the South American continent and grimaced. Hopefully they would catch up soon. Opening their borders had helped.
The next day, he was assigned to the main Space Center museum. This was not his favorite, but it had to be taken care of. Before he could begin his early rounds, a knock came at his door. Finishing his coffee in a few quick gulps, he stood.
“Come in,” he called, rubbing his back ruefully. No-matter what the doctors said, he knew he was getting old beyond the touch of any technology he could afford. It was probably Lark, come to chide him about not wanting to retire again. His eyes widened as a Space Marine pushed the door open and nodded to him. The white-haired man stepped aside and the woman walked slowly into the room, her canes making soft plinking noises on the floor. Her face was white under a spacer’s tan and her lips were pinched as if she were in pain. He smiled as she examined his office curiously. Refusing the hand that the Space Marine offered her with a shake of the head, she braced herself on both canes in front of his desk and half-bowed to him regally.
“Frederick Sekady, I was told you will be retiring from this position soon, is this not so?”
His grayed eyebrows rose. He’d heard that voice before. “Yes, ma’am. I’m trying to get at least a three month extension, but my chances of that are pretty slim. The odds for someone my age are almost nil.” He smiled crookedly. “A hundred and ninety-five. Who’d have thought it.”
“You are a military historian, specifically space flight.”
“Correct, ma’am.” He frowned as the questions piled up in his head. Her face looked hauntingly familiar, even though it was deeply lined under the spacers’ tan. But still he could not remember and this bothered him.
“I would ask you to consider an offer, then.” She reached into a pocket of her coat, bracing carefully with the other arm and pulled out a piece of glittery intelligent plastic. Dropping it on the desk, she pushed it towards him “You are cordially invited to the Moonbase, sir. In either an advisory post or as our historian or both, if you are so inclined. We have need of people like you.”
He gaped. A shuttle ticket. She was giving him a shuttle ticket. The Moonbase Embargoes were just barely over and regular tourist shuttle traffic was not back to normal yet. The Neo Christian vessels went where they would of course, but were not open to civilians. To give him an insystem ticket and require nothing in return-?
“Why-? Who-?” He shook his head. “Who are you, ma’am? I should know you, but my memory fails me-” He looked at her questioningly, trembling fingers resting on the freedom she’d offered.
“You knew me as Anna Lerien Yahriel, sir.”
He grinned suddenly. “I’ll be damned! I never thought-! Well!” The old man looked down at the gleaming shuttle ticket in his grizzled hand then back up to her. “But what’s happened to you? You look-” He shook his head, at a loss for words. “And where is that husband of yours, who’s been causing such trouble? Surely he’d not let you loose without him at your side-?”
“I look like a wasting case, I know.” Her smile was infinitely sad. “Space is my home now. This is the price I’ve paid for peace.” She shrugged sadly, indicating the canes with a jerk of her chin. “Jon is dead, sir. He paid for this peace with his life.” Biting her lip, she looked away quickly and he looked down, oddly saddened.
“We should go, ma’am,” the Space Marine said quietly, nodding to the clock-display on the wall. He opened the door and watched her, a slight frown on his deeply tanned face. Those old-young eyes were worried below short-cropped white hair.
“Yes, my friend, we shall go.” She looked back at the old man fondly. “Think on my offer, sir. As I said, we need people like you.” Turning, she hobbled out slowly. Two of the NC’s followed her, one turning to close the door behind them with a wide-eyed nod.
He tucked the ticket carefully into his pocket and dialed his supervisor, barely suppressing a wide grin. “Lark? Yes. I’ve decided to forgo the extension. No, I’ve gotten a better offer. Ah- I’m afraid I can’t say. No. No, I won’t be in for work tomorrow and am leaving early today. Goodbye sir.” He began to whistle brightly as he sorted through his desk drawers and tossed things into a box that had somehow made its way to his desk.

Publication Date: 08-27-2009

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