A Spaceman

Chapter 2--Returning

"Lieutenant North," my old master says, startling me from my thoughts. I spin myself around and salute quickly. Even though we are the same rank now, I still feel inferior to him, I find. I feel heat rise to my face, but he smiles a rare, cold smile.

"Lieutenant Starr," I say, nodding. My students stare at me, so I usher them past into the next room. They grab the walls, smiling as they awkwardly work their way down one of the many tunnels. I resist a smile at their efforts. It is their second day in space, and the fun is just starting for our new Spacemen. Their white uniforms are crisp, their hair freshly shaven, and their smiles nervous as they look around the place they will call home for the next year. "I didn't even know you were back in orbit. I thought they'd sent you planet side."

"They did. I got orders yesterday to return. Major Tom said you'd taken an attachment training the new recruits," he says, observing the young spacemen almost disdainfully as they pass us.

"Yes, I enjoy it. I was never as good at flying as you," I say, shrugging.

"That isn't true," he says, in that flat, unemotional way only he can. I like the man. But he never fails to confuse me. He has no decorum, no tact, and almost no emotion. But I like him anyway, and I think he likes me.

"No. The truth is it gets lonely out there," I say, pulling myself down the hall closer to him. I've led my group to their class, my work is done for a few hours. He was always laconic, but today he seems especially so. I want to know just what he is doing back. He has not found me for a social call. He doesn't socialize. He has a purpose, one that he is loathe to reveal immediately, it seems. "But you never minded that. I was surprised when you turned down the promotion to Captain."

"They don't let you fly as much," he says, blinking his blue eyes. The eyes are a bit far apart, but careful and clear.

"Why'd you want to see me?" I ask. I would have been polite if I thought there was a point.

"I wanted to tell you I think you should go back to flying. They need more good men on the Northern Rim. I'd like you to be one of them," Starr says, pausing at a split in the passages.

"You know the answer. Too far from home, too much time out staring at the stars, waiting to be ambushed," I say, shaking my head, "I like doing training."

"You signed up to wait to be ambushed," he says flatly.

"I know," I say. I don't want to tell him the real truth. The real truth is that I feel like I have a bigger, better purpose than that. I am not an adrenaline seeker. I like the thrill of it as much as the next man. But flying isn't everything to me. The game, winning is everything, fighting the good fight is everything. But I can't tell him all that. He wouldn't understand. The only time I had ever seen him truly human, a rush of passion, emotion, and adrenaline, is when he is flying.

"Isylgyns are hardly boring," he says, raising an eyebrow and almost smiling.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not interested," I say.

"Thought I'd ask, here," he hands me a frequency chip, "Major Tom put us on as flight partners, for old time's sake, she said."

"Good, if we are under attack, I'd rather fly with you than Lieutenant Jordan," I say. Lieutenant Jordan is closer to Starr's age, he keeps records. I don't mind him, but I am more comfortable with my old master. We all have flight duty partners, on the off chance we came under attack, we needed to know who we were jumping in a ship with. Jordan is boring and sarcastic, even when we are flying he'll make sarcastic remarks. It is grating. But then most people find Starr who does speak, occasionally even when spoken to, grating.