The Less Interesting TimesTemper Your Enthusiasm

2009/01/27 Parents: The Close Aliens

Outside the crystalline window, the spindles of the refit port were visible, like thin metal claws waiting to prey on any incoming ship that dare brave their path. A cargo ship and a science vessel were already docked and being tended by the station’s staff. A blast of light from the port side signaled another incoming craft, this one a long range scout, taking a typical hands-on approach for the dock. Beneath the gnarled structure was a blue orb that took up almost all of the starboard side view, a giant of nitrogen and ammonia, imperceptively spinning from dark to light and from light to dark.
“Which one are they on?” Velorum asked, leaning on the edge of the window, where opacity encountered transparency.
“I don’t know,” Vitalis said, warily, from the side of the window.
“Can’t you do your thing here? Feel them out?”
“Can’t you? I don’t know what to feel for. I can tell you, roughly, how many people there are here, where are they grouping and the general mood. Other than that, you know as much as I do.”
“Ah, it’s the V twins!” Someone said from behind them and put hands on their shoulders. Velorum’s reaction was instantaneous and only Vitalis’ connection to his brother allowed him to move fast enough to catch his arm before the elbow connected with the bridge of the nose. The interloper swayed back and looked at them suspiciously. “Relax, Vel. You’re back home.”
“It’s a tense time, Div,” Said Velorum and turned back to the window. “We decided to meet the parents.”
“Truly?” Div asked, still mildly shocked, and looked at Vitalis as if he was used to Velorum not giving up the truth so easily. Vitalis nodded gently and also stared out the window.
“Do you have any idea?” Div crossed his arms over his chest and looked from one twin to the other.
“None,” Velorum said. “We were on Explorer status between the wars and just continued after the last one.”
“Last time I saw you…”
“Gamma Velpeculae, the Orz Diversionary,” Vitalis interrupted.
“Yes. That is a long time. You’re 350, right?”
“358, next quarter.”
“Wow. At this section, if you haven’t met your parents, most just don’t.”
“We know,” Velorum said promptly.
The air hung silent but for the recyclers’ endless whining on the down and out of their auditory perception. The twins stared out the window at the white fingers of the space station enveloping, caressing the newly arrived scout ship. Div was struggling with words, trying to think of something to say, when a voice sounded, as clear as the speaker was in the room with them.
“Velorum and Vitalis of the independent Tiger’s Claw, please refer to rest hall 9.”
Velorum picked himself off the wall and straightened his clothes. Vitalis took a step forward and cracked his knuckles. “Line,” He said and, a second later, an illuminated stripe appeared, starting at his feet and heading straight down the corridor before taking to the left.
“Good luck,” Div said as the twins followed the shortening line, leading them towards their inevitable destination.
The room at the end was like any other. It started with a double iris door in the middle of the corridor which opened into a medium sized room filled with chairs and tables, several plants, screens, cupboards and the likes. In the middle of the room, near a round table, two people stood up from what appeared to be a hushed conversation only seconds prior. While every Maldir on assignment wore the standard one piece coverall suit, lined with many pockets, loops and rungs, Velorum and Vitalis’ were a dark shade of brown, probably darker than when they started out due to the nature of their field work. The other two, older and with a more solid stance, wore faded mother of pearl colored uniform that the twins recognized as the standard-issue scientist’s garb. The man was as tall as Vitalis, wider at the shoulders, with short, uncombed brown hair, even some wrinkles around his eyes and mouth and a default position of holding his stomach with one hand and rubbing his chin with the other. The woman was slightly shorter than Velorum but with Vitalis’ build: thin, slender, and slightly athletic. She had platinum blond hair to her shoulders, carefully held back and out of the way of a face that could melt a granite block.
“Mother?” Vitalis asked.
“Dad?” Velorum added.
They both nodded. Their mother clamped her hands together and crinkled her nose. Their father gestured to the chairs.

To Be Continued… Some day.

Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with 5 comments.