Paul Kater - Bactine

Daniel nodded. That was an indisputable fact.

“Good. We have found a request for security from a rather remote star system in NGC6637. I doubt you ever heard of that.”

“No, I haven’t.” Daniel knew a lot about the New General Catalogue of space objects, but most of the numbers and designations were lost on him.

“Thought so, yes.” The captain nodded and punched his keyboard for a while. “Tell me. Do you suffer from sea sickness?”

“I beg your pardon?” Daniel was stumped by that question.

“Sea sickness. You know, when you start throwing up when the floor waves under your feet.”

“No, I don’t think so, sir.”

“Right. You will be going there then. NGC6637. Don’t forget. Your cabin terminal will be granted access to everything we have on that place, you will be sent a memo on what is asked of us so you can prepare for this place.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The captain dismissed Daniel, but called his name as he was at the door. “Zacharias… I’m sorry about what happened. Really.”

Daniel just nodded. Then he left the office and was escorted back to his cabin which was closed and locked behind him. He hated that little part of the deal, it wasn’t that there was a place to run off to here.

He flipped on the terminal, took the screen from the wall and lay on the bed with it. “Let’s see where they want to ship me off to…” A small blinking symbol attracted his attention. He tapped it and was asked if he wanted to open a personal message. “Huh… who would… Hmm. Yes.”

“Note that this message has been checked. No modifications have been made to the original content,” the tablet told him.

“Hello, little soldier brother,” Malcolm’s voice said.

Daniel stabbed at the tablet, making the voice stop. All bloody Qurgon pirates on a deadman’s chest, he thought, what’s this? Almost feverishly he tried to think of a reason why Malcolm of all people would send him a message. A spoken one for that. He couldn’t think of one, so he punched the tablet to listen to the message.

“As usual it is difficult to get in touch with you. That is probably why nobody ever tries.” Malcolm had this uncanny ability to make people feel guilty by just saying things in a certain way. The bloody prick. “Things here are going well, of course. Belinda is doing well, and the children are growing up to be good and reliable people.”

“Damn you, dear brother.” Daniel’s mood dropped below zero with ease and practice.

“We got them a poodle. They work so well at their schools that Belinda told me we should get them a pet, and they wanted a poodle. I am not sending you a picture of the pooch. That costs too much.”

“Of course. You sit on your money, that is how you get your wealth.” Daniel snorted.

“I do want to praise you, soldier. You stayed on your post. Really, amazing. Not even a small note on our father’s fifth dying day.”

Daniel closed his eyes, groaning. He could kick himself. The family had agreed that each year, on father’s dying day, they would send notes to each other. He had totally missed it this year, as he had been on the mission that got interrupted by the Qurgon pirate ship. The fact that he had not been able to, even if he had thought about it, did not matter to him. He had forgotten it.

“I hope this little reminder is enough of an incentive for you, big brother,” Malcolm sneered. “Cynthia of course came to your defence, as she always does. Just thought you’d like to know.”

It took all of Daniel’s willpower not to fling the tablet against a wall.

Daniel’s confinement had been ended. He was relatively free to move about on the star base, as long as he did not wear the uniform. He felt odd walking around in civilian clothes. He had to buy something more appropriate than his old vacation stuff. Colourful shorts and bright shirts were not helpful in keeping a low profile.

He spent a lot of time in the library where the big Spacenet hookups were. He put in an effort to learn as much about NGC6637 as he could. The heart of NGC6637 was a class V sun, in what on Earth was known as the Sagittarius zodiac sign. It was part of a binary star system, and the planet where he was going to be stationed was named: NGC 6637 — VIII. It was the 8th planet in system, and the people that lived there had not taken the trouble to actually name their planet something. They referred to it as ‘the planet’, if at all the subject came up.

The atmosphere of the planet was quite breathable, no problem for enhanced lungs, Daniel read. That was good. The people were very humanoid, slightly smaller on average than people from Earth. Also good. Something that surprised him was the fact that there was no air traffic on the planet. All transport was done by either ground carriages or boats and ships.

Daniel rubbed his forehead. “No air traffic? What on earth do they need security for then? Wonder if I can find something about border patrol. If that’s there, I’m quitting before I get on the job.” Then he recalled the remark of Captain Chambers, about sea sickness. Boats and ships. Right. That had to be the connection.

Spacenet provided no information, as usual. Daniel knew that there was too much information around, and cataloguing all that took a lot of time. And this was not something important for the majority of people searching stuff. He selected the last bit of information that was there about NGC6637-VIII: “Visitors to NGC6637-VIII are advised to observe the dress code.”

Daniel wondered if he should be worried.

Later that day, a package was delivered to his cabin. In it were microblots with more information about the planet. Someone, he thought, is going through a lot of trouble to prepare me for that place. It looks as if they are doing all they can to get rid of me.

They, whoever they were, also made it that Daniel did not get in touch with the other Rebuilts on the base. All, that was, except Rhonda Flower. Rhonda had too much leverage on high command, because of her work and skills. She could do everything she wanted, within certain limits.

They often sat in the Glass Dome, talking or reading about the things on NGC6637-VIII. There were bits and pieces about the language, the culture, social events that needed attention, the works..

“You are going to have a ball, Daniel,” Rhonda said as she reread a paragraph about formal dinner parties. “That is so you. Formal dinner parties.” She laughed and almost rolled from the low bench they sat on.

“Yeah, sure,” said Daniel, “I have figured out I will be doing something with boats there, so no formal stuff for me. And I will keep it that way.”

“If you have to dress up, you must send me a picture,” Rhonda grinned. “And I will come and have a look for myself then!”

Daniel grinned. “Oh yes. We can go out to a gala or the opera or so.”

“Hey, stop there. No opera, okay? I like light and funny stuff. It is still beyond me how someone on a stage can sing for half an hour after being stabbed in the gut by someone, before keeling over.”

Daniel stared at her, then grinned. He had never looked at opera that way.

“And then the next guy comes around,” Rhonda continued, “and sings for another half hour, instead of calling for a medic. No. Opera’s wasted on me.”

“That’s hard to miss,” Daniel said. “Okay. No opera for you.”

“Good,” Rhonda nodded.

Daniel put the reading tablet aside. “I’m going to miss you, Rhonda.”

“No. You’re not.”

The soldier looked at her. “What?”

Rhonda shook her head. “You are not allowed to miss me. Yes, we had a good time. Yes, we connected a few times and that was amazing. But I have my place here, and you have your place… out there on some planet in the black. Don’t miss me, Daniel. Be smart. Remain my friend. That’s best.”