In Ashes Born (A Seeker's Tale From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1) Read Free Page A

compliments and would you join her for lunch mess at the Officers Club at 1200 hours?”
    “I’d be pleased to, Mr. Udan.”
    “Thank you, sar. I’ll let her know.”
    “Carry on, Mr. Udan.”
    As he marched away in proper cadet form, I marveled that I had ever been that young. I wondered what happened to that boy, then snorted and resumed my stroll toward the shower. It hadn’t even been twenty stanyers since I’d been a cadet. It seemed like much longer.
    As I strolled, the images from the Chernyakova came back to me. I hadn’t thought of that for a long time, but it had only been—what? I couldn’t remember. When I counted back on my fingers, I realized it had only been three stanyers since we’d jumped into Breakall and found the ship adrift. Less than that, really. Closer to two and a half. A year on the Agamemnon and a year on the Iris . Only a few months since I left my last ship to the tender care of Christine Maloney.
    As far as I knew, the Chernyakova still waited for auction in Breakall. The first two auctions had failed. I wondered what would happen with the next one. Docking fees added up over time.
    The roses around the door looked fully recovered from my ministrations. The white double blooms seemed to shine in their own light against the rich green foliage. The pile of clippings had disappeared from beside the path.
    I stripped off the soggy workout clothes and dropped them into the refresher and rummaged in my grav-trunks for clean shorts and my dress uniform. I could have gotten away with a set of utilities, but lunch at the O Club meant I’d be on display. I owed it to Alys Giggone to put on a good face.
    As I sorted through the trunks, Sifu Newmar’s words came back to me. I’d left Neris with less than twenty kilos of worldly possessions. I’d arrived on Port Newmar with thirty. Looking at the two trunks, I knew they tipped in at nearly two hundred. With that thought, I grabbed my shower gear and headed for the bathroom.
    I was pretty sure Sifu Newmar had not been talking about just the physical baggage. Seeing the physical manifestation got me wondering how I’d measure the psychic baggage. With roses, you could learn where to clip. A branch out of place here. A stem gone wrong there. Clipping that to open the center and this to foster bushiness. Physical baggage can be measured in mass or volume or both.
    How did one measure psychological baggage? Where—and what—would one clip?

    Alys Giggone hadn’t changed much. I hadn’t seen her since I left the Lois McKendrick but the image in my mind matched the smile that greeted me when I stepped into the O Club at 1145. “Captain Wang!” She waved me over to the bar. Her pristine undress whites showed off her tan and sported a commandant’s fleet arrow on the collar.
    I dropped my hat on a hook by the door and crossed the uncrowded bar. I could feel myself grinning back at her. Heads turned to watch me. Faces showed curiosity more than anything. It looked like a slow lunchtime. I suspected most of the permanent party had their own quarters and transients didn’t spend lunch hours there. Perhaps I was just unfashionably early.
    “Commandant, thank you for the invitation.”
    She snorted and held a hand for me to shake. “You’re allowed to call me Alys. At least at the bar. What’ll you have?”
    I shook her hand. “Coffee any good here?”
    “Better be.” She turned to the bartender. “Mike, coffee for the captain, if you please?”
    “Of course, sar.” He found a heavy china mug embossed with the academy logo in gold and filled it from a thermal carafe behind the bar. He slipped it onto the polished wood in front of me. “Cream? Sugar?”
    I shook my head and reached for the handle. After a tentative sip I nodded my thanks. “She’s right. This is good.”
    He beamed and took his polishing cloth down the bar.
    I perched my rump on the tall stool and settled in beside her. “I’ll admit, it’s a bit surreal.”
    She