The Carescrian grinned happily as they shook hands. He'd seen very little of Valerian since driving the designer's M-6B to victory in the final race for the Mitchell Trophy nearly a year previously.
The hiatus was no reflection on their friendship; it was purely the times. Both men had all they could do simply keeping up with responsibilities. "Don't blame me for the weather," he quipped, casting a sidelong glance at Ursis. "I certainly didn't opt for this wretched stuff. We do, however, have associates who are known for their affinity to nippy climates."
"Who can deny the benefits of bracing wintery weather," Ursis sighed theatrically, his fang jewels glinting opulently. "Look how well preserved it keeps us Bears."
Valerian grimaced. "Nik's got a point, Brim," he declared—just as they were joined by a bantam Commodore with gray-blond hair, high cheekbones, piercing gray eyes, and a most sober bearing.
Beneath an open Fleet Cloak, his perfectly fashioned formal uniform looked as if it had been tailored only moments previously.
"Wilf, may I present Commodore Zorfrew Tor from the Fleet Design Bureau?" Ursis interjected quickly, "In command of this operation."
Brim extended a hand. "A pleasure, Commodore," he said.
Tor nodded and smiled a little. "Yes, I'm certain it is," he said without so much as raising an eyebrow.
"Er, yes," Brim allowed.
Suddenly Tor chuckled, the quick change in his aspect like sunrise after a particularly dark night.
"Ah," he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "You were listening."
"Well, ah..." Brim stumbled, "yes, I was."
"Nearly a lost art," Tor commented with raised eyebrows.
"What?" Brim asked.
" Listening," Tor replied with a little grin as he glanced through the windows in the front door.
"Watch...."
A moment later two civilians entered the foyer in a blast of cold air and snow. One immediately glanced over at the Commodore and smiled while he stomped snow from his boots.'' How goes it today, Doctor?" he asked.
Tor nodded his head affably. "Horrible," he said with a pleasant smile.
"Good—glad to hear it, Doctor,'' the civilian replied, opening his parka with cold-reddened hands. Then, with a friendly nod to Brim and the others, he opened the door for his partner, and the two of them hurried off along an inner corridor, deep in conversation.
The moment the door swung closed, Ursis and Valerian broke into gales of laughter. "Happens damn near every time," the designer gasped, wiping tears from his eyes. "He got me twice before Nik here finally let me in on the big joke."
Ursis's soulful eyes rolled toward the ceiling. " 'Night and green moonlight scarcely bother miners of small emeralds,' as they say," he recited with a wry smile. "It was only after I fell victim myself—three times yesterday—that I discovered the joke. Three times!"
"Unfortunately," Tor said with a culpable look on his face, "people do catch on." He extended his hand a second time. "Wilf Brim," he said, "I've heard a lot about you—I followed your every move in the Mitchell races."
"Thank you, Commodore," Brim said, "but it was Mark's ships that actually won. I just sat back and drove."
"I see," Tor said with a chuckle. "Easy as that, eh?" He smiled. "Well, I shall endeavor to make you a great deal busier, Commander, during the coming space trials. And since everyone has finally arrived, I suppose it is fitting that we launch our efforts with a get-together—on board my headquarters ship, I.F.S. Refit Enterprise." He nodded to himself. "How does that seem, everyone?"
"Horrible," Brim quipped with a straight face
"Splendid, glad to hear it." Tor chuckled with a wink. "At Evening:two, then." He closed his Fleet Cloak. "Oh, bye the bye, Brim," he added, opening the door to a blast of arctic air, "plan to have a similar affair aboard Starfury, if you please. The night we complete the trials."
"I shall look forward to both events, Commodore," Brim called, winking at Ursis. They both knew from experience that before the second party took place, everyone connected with Starfury's space trials would be quite ready for any kind of deliverance.
Later that evening, Brim found the business of simply getting away from his Captain's workstation was—in itself—no easy task. It seemed that as soon as he had battled one lengthy chore to a finish, a dozen others took its place. Because of it, the party aboard Refit Enterprise was well under way before he straightened the area around his workstation, donned his cold-weather gear, and set off for the main hatch. "Looks perfectly awful out there, Gromnik," he commented to the Duty Officer, a tall Sodeskayan Drive Lieutenant.
Gromnik grinned as he came to attention and saluted. "Aye, Captain," he answered. "It surely must be for those without a natural fur coat."
Brim nodded agreement, pulling the Fleet Cloak tight around his neck while he turned up the heat. Through a nearby viewport, he could see that at least only a gentle snow was falling—a far cry from earlier in the evening when full blizzard seemed to be the sole weather mode. He was about to open the outer hatch when Tissaurd appeared around the corner.
"Skipper," she exclaimed with raised eyebrows. "I thought you'd be long gone to the party."
"I might say the same about you, too, Number One," Brim grinned, suddenly happy to see her.
She had the sort of face that was charming even when mostly covered by the great collars of a Fleet Cape and a beaked officer's cap. "You're going to the party, I hope."
"With the kind of day I've put in"—Tissaurd chuckled—"I wouldn't miss Tor's get-together for a whole Universe—especially the free drinks. Local scuttlebutt has it the Commodore stocks his ship with good Logish Meem."
"I never refute scuttlebutt," Brim said, holding the hatch while she stepped onto the brow, "too often it's nearly truth." Outside, Brim could feel the crisp air bite his nostrils as he breathed. Almost without thinking, he offered his arm to her as they negotiated the slippery steel grating.
She took it with a little squeeze. "You don't think anyone at home would mind, do you?" she asked.
Brim smiled. "There is no one at home,'' he answered simply, thinking back over the many women who had drifted in and out of his life since he'd joined the Fleet; some suddenly, some over a long period of time. Even his first and dearest love, the Princess Margot Effer'wyck, not only had married someone else, she had become... He closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't even want to continue that thought.
"Caught you daydreaming, Skipper," Tissaurd said at the rim of the gravity pool.
Brim nodded and pursed his lips. "Yeah," he said, experiencing a definite visceral thrill at feeling her small, soft bulk close beside him. Shipmate or not, he laughed to himself, Tissaurd was a mighty attractive package—in any middle-aged man's book.
"That was awfully nice," she murmured as they stepped onto a heated walkway. After a moment, she released his arm. "I'll remember to keep my eyes peeled for slippery spots every time we walk someplace together," she said with a little smile.
Brim felt himself blush. "Me, too," he said awkwardly, then quickly peered up at Starfury's huge snow-cloaked silhouette standing out against the darkened sky. Docking beacons swung long beams of blue light through the falling snow while dim battle lanterns bobbed and hovered over her entrance hatches. Multicolored points of light glowed and blinked through the bridge Hyperscreens, and from the high mast, KA'PPA rings radiated lazily out to the far corners of the Universe as someone in the COMM center kept touch with the reality of everyday business.