Chapter 4.
Later that evening in the privacy of her room, Zuri considered the events of the day. She had known from the start that not much would come from the meeting. There simply wasn’t much to go on. The object had simply appeared out of nowhere and had just sat there directly in their path. They could speculate forever if they so chose. But unless something changed between now and the time they arrived. . . .
Well, something was going to change. They were going to compose and transmit a message, probably tomorrow. What would they say? She needed to review the data that her team was compiling. Maybe then she would have a better idea what needed to be said. But that could wait until morning.
Evander had volunteered to get a team together to begin going over the ancient message he had found. How was it that he always seemed to be a step ahead of everyone? How had he managed to find just the right information . . . in just the right place . . . at just the right time? Was it coincidence? No; she didn’t think so. For as long as she could remember, Evander had been a part of her life; sometimes a distant part; but more often much closer.
As a child, she remembered him as that man her father was always talking to. Later, in her teens, he was the other man in her life besides her father. He had always been there when she needed someone to talk to. She felt comfortable going to him with any question. Seldom had he given her a direct answer; but he had always steered her in the proper direction so she could find the answer herself.
Once, when she had had a crush on him, he had seemed to recognize it almost before she did. He had been so very gentle when he told her how he felt. He had sat quietly with her that day in his study. He had told her how much he loved her; how she reminded him of his daughter who had been gone for so many years. She wanted to know what had happened to her. But somehow she sensed that to ask would cause him pain. He had said he felt she and he were kindred spirits and that he so very much appreciated her love for him. He had told her they would be friends forever. She had cried, but she had understood.
She remembered the musty smell and the dim light in his study. She remembered the shelves filed with books; some were ancient and leather-bound. Through her tears, she had asked him why he kept them when all of their contents were stored in computer files. It would be so much easier for him to find what he wanted to read. There wouldn’t be so much clutter. His response had touched her deeply. He had said that the books contained knowledge passed down through generations, and by holding them in his hands he felt more a part of that past, that the knowledge was more intimately a part of him. When he said this, she had cried; not out of sorrow or regret, but out of heart-felt respect for the depth of feeling this man possessed. She had discovered that she loved him even more.
But now she was an adult. She commanded a fleet of ships filled with representatives of five planets. Reminiscing was a luxury she could seldom indulge.
Now, in this position of leadership and responsibility, she felt it even more vital to maintain a clear mind. She rarely had time for self-indulgence. The welfare of five races, five cultures and fifty thousand individuals rested squarely on her shoulders. She understood all too well what was required of her. She was humbled by the magnitude of her calling.
In her youth she had always believed that she was destined to do great things. She had always pushed herself to excel, and only rarely had she failed.
Once when she was eight years old she and her classmates were taking a supervised ‘field trip’ outside the ship. It wasn’t a long excursion, just a few hundred yards along the ship’s ventral axis so the kids could experience first hand what it was like to be weightless. Their instructor had tethered each of them individually to the handrail.
Zuri had been told it was her job to make sure all the kids stayed in line so their tethers didn’t get tangled. The instructor led the way along the rail, each suited child following in single file. Dutifully, Zuri took up position at the end of the line so she could see everyone clearly.
The class hadn’t gone too far when two boys midway up the line started horsing around, letting go of the handrail and pushing off with their feet. When they reached the end of their tethers they’d bounce back as though they were on elastic bands. Zuri saw this but didn’t think much of it. Her job was to make sure everyone stayed in line. No one was getting tangled up, so, no problem.
The boys were getting rambunctious, pushing off harder and harder so they’d bounce back more quickly. All the kids were chattering away happily. This was normal for them, so the instructor didn’t pay much attention. He continued leading the group forward, not bothering to look back.
The two boys started to push off again, this time holding hands. One of them got off just a split second before the other. This caused him to twist at an odd angle, making his tether wrap around the other boy’s wrist. That threw them both off balance, so when they reached the end of their tethers, one of them broke loose and started to float away.
Zuri saw what happened and yelled as loud as she could for the instructor. Above the noise of the other kids she couldn’t be heard. The boy was drifting farther out, waving frantically, his screams going unheard. His com link was broken when the tether parted. He was now several yards beyond anyone’s reach.
Not knowing what else to do, Zuri grabbed the rail with both hands. Bracing her feet against one of the handrail brackets, she slammed her weight against the child in front of her. The result was a domino effect. Each child fell into the one in front until finally the last one bumped into the instructor. He turned around to berate the child, and saw the boy drifting, now ten or more yards above the group. He flipped the switch on his instructor com-pack to ‘emergency’ and called for help. It took several minutes for security to arrive. By then the boy was almost out of sight. The officer fired up his propulsion pack and quickly got to the boy.
The incident was quickly resolved. The class was reprimanded and from that day forward all instructors were required to wear a serviceable propulsion pack whenever they took their classes outside.
Zuri was commended for her quick thinking. But she believed that if she had been more diligent, the incident would never have happened. From that day forward she tolerated no nonsense, from herself or others. She got a lot of ribbing from her friends. They always called her a detail freak. She took the teasing well, and over time she earned her friends’ respect.
Zuri completed her formal education at age 16. She specialized in sociology during the last two years of her schooling. Following completion of 13 years of formal schooling, all citizens were required to dedicate the next four years to ‘operations’ (the equivalent of military service). But because she had excelled in her chosen field, she was selected to participate in a five-year advanced course of study. During that five-year period she showed exceptional skill in diplomatic and interpersonal relations, and was therefore invited to join the ‘operations officer’ ranks where she would be groomed for leadership within the fleet.
Four years later, at age 26, she was made captain of the Brighid, where again she excelled.
The Brighid was the first inter-system spacecraft built by Zuri’s home world. When the people of her planet decided to venture out beyond their system, they determined to make the spacecraft totally self-sufficient. They knew that the length of the voyage would be so incredibly long that, in all likelihood, several generations would pass before the ship returned (if it ever did).