“Wow!” Young Hylas, across the table, had gone wide-eyed with surprise and a healthy dollop of envy. Most of the men at the table mirrored the exact same expression. Zak Camar’s eyes glowed with justifiable pride. It wasn’t just everyone who earned a Bolo Mark XX’s respect, after all. Kafari’s father clearly understood that he had raised one truly remarkable daughter.
Talk shifted, then, as the younger men asked questions about the Bolo he commanded and Bolos in general and what it was like aboard a naval cruiser and what it took to get into the war college at Brigade headquarters. Evidently somebody had primed them not to mention Etaine, because nobody did, for which Simon was immensely grateful. Once he realized his new family intended to respect his need to keep those memories private, he relaxed and thoroughly enjoyed sharing stories from his admittedly interesting career.
Then some of the older men started discussing the rebuilding effort that was still underway and the talk revolved around what constituted the best designs for barns and equipment sheds, how to jury-rig machinery to do work it had never been designed to do, as a stop-gap until replacement equipment could be obtained, and which livestock bloodlines had survived and could be cross-bred to strengthen the herds and flocks on various farms, come the next spring breeding season.
It was comfortable talk, flowing around Simon in an easy flood as he plowed into his dessert, listening and learning what was important to these people and what problems they would need to solve before they could start operating profitably, again. Laughter from the women’s tables and shrieks from the children, most of whom had finished eating and were now romping in a variety of games and races, served to deepen Simon’s quiet enjoyment of the evening. Running beneath that enjoyment, down in the core of his being, was a fizzing anticipation of their wedding night. Simon could hardly wait to climb into their aircar and fly his wife someplace exceedingly private.
By the time Simon and Kafari finally escaped into their aircar, the night was well advanced. Simon grimaced at the decorations on the car, mostly in washable paint of some sort, but with several yards of fluttering ribbons attached at various points along the airframe, none of them in any position that would create a flight hazard. Kafari was giggling as she tumbled into the passenger seat. Simon ran through his preflight checklist, then sent them aloft, while a sea of upturned faces watched from the yard. People waved until they’d gained enough altitude, they couldn’t see anything but a shapeless blur against the lights blazing from the Soteris homestead.
Both moons were up, little Quincy a thin crescent near the horizon as they climbed vertically up out of the canyon, and the much larger Abigail at full-moon stage, shedding pearlescent light across the tops of the cliffs. Kafari sighed happily. “It sure is beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” Simon agreed. He wasn’t looking at the moonlight.
“Not yet, if you please, sir,” she said primly. “Where are we going, anyway?”
Simon just waggled his eyebrows. She’d been trying for days to pry out of him the destination he’d chosen for their honeymoon. He’d done a lot of legwork, researching Jefferson’s favorite vacation spots. Most of them were rustic cabin-in-the-woods sorts of places, taking advantage of Jefferson’s truly spectacular wild lands. There was an urban resort town in the southern hemisphere, with plenty of nightlife entertainment, but Kafari didn’t strike Simon as a cabaret-and-gambling type of girl. Besides, he hadn’t wanted to travel that far from Sonny, not with another invasion from the other side of the Void still a possibility.
So he steered them north, cruising near the aircar’s upper range for speed, and watched the moonlight fall across Kafari’s face. She reached across and rested one hand on his knee, a burning contact that interfered with his breath control, even as it whispered of domestic comfort and the small, exquisite pleasures that come with the intertwining of two lives lived together. He smiled and curled his fingers around hers, just holding her hand while they sped northward.
“Not much out this way,” Kafari said lazily, at length.
“Nope.”
“There’s some nice fishing, along the northern reaches of the Damisi.”
“Yep. Of course, I’m done with fishing. Already caught what I wanted.”
She smiled. “There is that.” Then she added, “Just a little hint?”
“Nope.”
“Wretch.”
“Bet you say that to all the guys you marry.”
She grinned. “You’ll pay for that one, loverboy…”
“Oh, goodie — can we start now?”
She swatted his thigh. “Just fly the aircar, if you please.”
He sighed. “Yes, dear.”
She reached forward with her other hand and switched on some music, hunting through the collection uploaded to the aircar’s computer system. “Oh, I like that one,” she said at last, programming in her selection.
“Oh, God…” Simon groaned aloud as the music she’d chosen turned his blood to steam. He was fond of the ancient Terran classical composers and Ravel was one of his personal favorites. He’d just never realized just how provocative Bolero really was. “Wife, you haven’t got so much as a shred of pity.”
“I know,” she murmured with a deep chuckle that made Simon consider very seriously landing the aircar on the nearest flat stretch of ground and showing her exactly what she’d wrought. A fragment of advice from his father floated into his mind, giving him the patience he needed: Take it slow, son, and it’ll be worth the wait — for everybody involved. So far, his father’s advice hadn’t steered him wrong, yet.
You’d have loved her, Dad, Simon whispered to the stars, and you’d have been so proud of her. You, too, Mom. He hadn’t talked to his parents like this in years, but it seemed right, somehow, flying through the star-dusted darkness with Kafari at his side.
Thirty minutes later, he swung the aircar around on a new heading, following the instrumentation as the Damisi Mountains swung sharply to the west. His flight computer picked up the signal from the landing field and radioed their approach automatically. Kafari leaned forward, eyes glowing as brightly as the stars above their canopy. “Oh…” It was a soft-voiced sound, reverent and surprised and tinged with overtones of deep amazement. “Oh, Simon, it’s perfect.”
“You’ve been here?” he asked, disappointed.
“Oh, no, never. We couldn’t ever afford to come here. This is where off-world tourists and business tycoons from Mali stay, when they come to Jefferson. And some of our own wealthiest families have cottages here. Senators, trade cartel executives, people like that.”
Simon smiled. “In that case, it just might be good enough for you.”
Kafari’s eyes widened. Then she chuckled. “You are going to spoil me rotten, you know.”
“That’s the general idea.” He squeezed her hand, then concentrated on final approach. He set them down gently and taxied over to the parking area, sliding into the space assigned by the resort’s air-control computer. A moment later, they were on the tarmac, pulling luggage out while a servo-bot came racing up to ferry their bags. A human-operated groundcar arrived to ferry them.