Robert Fenaday looked through rain-streaked windows at the field where the sleek shape of his wife’s ship lay in its launch cradle and thought…this can’t be happening. But it was. Ground crews were clearing the last connections holding Blackbird to Brendara base. The small scoutship was bound for war—a war that made no sense, against the Conchirri, a species out of a child’s nightmare.
“Hey, spaceman,” a voice called softly. He turned away from the concourse windows to see Lisa. She’d slipped up on him, her footsteps covered by the dull roar of the refugees and military filling the halls behind her. Her long, auburn hair was tied back, under a white naval cap that seemed too large for her delicate features.
Robert strode over and embraced her. Her face lay against his neck for a few seconds and he felt a tremble run through her. Then she stepped back, all cool dignity again, for all that no one had paid them any mind.
“What’s this?” she said. “Somebody might think you were afraid you wouldn’t see me again.”
“I love you, Lisa,”
“I love you too. Always will.”
“Then let me use my influence—”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I know you’d do anything to protect me, but not that. I’m Blackbird’s captain and where she goes—I go. Darling, there are some things that can’t be fixed with money and even if they could, they shouldn’t be.”
“What good is my family’s wealth if it can’t protect you?” he said, twisting his hands. “I’d trade every credit if only it could.”
Lisa’s gray eyes were bright. “It’s bought us more than most get. You’ve been able to meet me every time Blackbird’s put in. Even if it meant diverting one of your family’s freighters, something I shouldn’t have let you do. Few others have had that luxury.
“The universe is on fire, darling, and I’m one of the firemen. My family has been Confed Navy since there’s been one. I have to do this.”
“This time I can’t even follow you.”
“No, not where I’m bound. You and your father have a shipping line to run. One that’s vital to the Confederacy, and Robert, he’s old now. So that’s your post. Mine’s with the fleet.”
He looked at his wife and was filled with foreboding. “I wasn’t much before we met, you know, a spoiled brat of a rich kid, partying like a fool.”
She smiled through the tears in her eyes. “We’ve been good for each other Robert. We will be again when this damn thing is over.”
A claxon sounded overhead and he jumped, fighting back a curse. A voice read out a string of numbers.
Lisa’s smile faded into a grim line. “That’s my ship’s launch clearance.”
Now that the moment was here, it seemed unreal. How could she be leaving? They stepped toward each other again and this time didn’t care about military discipline or onlookers.
“Now,” she said finally. “I want you to stay here. So that this will be my memory of you, until I see you again.”
“When will that be?” he said, fighting down his anguish and trying to smile. I can’t make this harder on her.
“I don’t know, Love, and I couldn’t tell you if I did. But I think it will be a long time.”
He kissed her again. “Return to me, Lisa. Return to New Eire, the house above the cliffs. It will all be waiting for you.”
She touched his face. “I’m counting on it. Now, Robert you have to let me go.” She kissed him, then turned and walked quickly into the throng.
He watched her until her slender form in navy dress whites could no longer be seen. “I’ll never let you go, Lisa,” he whispered. “Never. Not if all of time and space were arrayed against me. I swear it.”
Eleven months later:
To Robert Fenaday- New Erie
The Secretary of State wishes to express the Confederacy’s sincerest condolences in the loss of the C.S.S. Blackbird. The vessel having been missing long past its life-support capacity, the crew must regretfully also be considered lost.
C.S.S Blackbird was operating alone in a classified operation far beyond the front and was last reported in the Fringe Star sector. We deeply regret…
*****
December 14, 2809-Enshar Star System: same year
Telisan stretched his arm over his head, as he had every day since his release from the hospital ship. The injury had kept him from joining his fleet carrier on the final attack on the Conchirri homeworld.
“Gad, it makes me queasy just watching,” said one of the human pilots draped