SWEET HOME ALLE BAMMA (SOLBIDYUM WARS SAGA) (13 page)

After showering I looked through my closet and picked a gray shirt made of a fabric that felt like a cross between silk and velvet and a pair of slightly darker gray slacks.  I’ve never been one for light or bright colors and I prefer rather plain fabrics without patterns or elaborate weaves.  Before long I was dressed and ready to go to the lounge.

Kala had decided not to wear her usual military uniform, opting instead for a lovely form-fitting, knee-length dress in a deep tangerine color.  She looked absolutely stunning; and my pulse quickened when she walked into the room.

When we reached the lounge, I was surprised at the enormity of the room.  I expected a small cozy area that maybe housed 120 people at most; but this room was five times that size.  There were many similar features to some of the night clubs of Earth.  A raised stage was positioned in the center of one wall.  Tables surrounded an already busy dance floor.  Opposite the stage was a bar with an honest-to-goodness bartender who, oddly enough, retrieved the drinks from a dispenser instead of mixing them by hand.  Glowing bands of colored lights alternated in the walls and thousands of needle-thin beams of light shot around the room from the ceiling, but the lights never seemed to hit anyone on the face.  I mentioned this to Kala and she explained that the computer used to control the lights was programmed with a sort of facial recognition so the lights would not be directed toward anyone’s eyes, as the beams were intense enough to cause temporary blindness.

Although some of the people in the lounge were still in uniform, the vast majority wore civilian clothing.  Since my arrival in the Federation, I hadn’t had the opportunity to meet or see may people outside of the military or government; so I was a bit surprised to see some of the fashions.  Actually,
fashion
is probably not the right word, as that would imply prevailing styles.  These were more like costumes.

“Is this a costume party?” I asked Kala.

“A what?” she asked.

“Costume party… you know, where people dress according to a theme that represents a particular period, certain historical figures, story characters or something similar,” I said as I gaped around the room.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” said Kala as she looked at me in amazement.  “None of these people are in costumes.  This is their normal civilian clothing.”  As she spoke, a man in a purple velvety suit with a fluffy lace collar passed in front of us.  His garb reminded me of a popular singer back on Earth that dressed in purple velvet outfits.  With him was a woman wearing a dress that fully exposed her left breast.  My momentary shock was followed by the realization that I was still not totally over my taboos of Earth.  Nudity was a part of life the Federation.  The citizens simply accepted it without any thought; and this same attitude extended into the clothing they wore.

In reality the taboos associated with nudity had not always existed on Earth either.  In several historical periods and cultures attitudes and fashions similar to what I was seeing in the lounge had been common.  The Minoans, Romans and Egyptians all achieved quite advanced cultures and technologies for their times; and nudity or partial nudity was a quite common feature of clothing styles in all levels of society.  In a country called Japan multiple families gathered at community bath houses to bathe nude; and in Europe women wore dresses during one period that left their breasts exposed.  There were also what most of Earth’s society like to think of as ‘primitive’ tribes that survived into present times.  These people wore little or no clothing
; and outside of ceremonial garb or items worn by royalty or shamans of the tribe, wearing clothing was considered superfluous and pointless.  Regardless of the truths or realities of the issue, nudity was a non-issue throughout most of the Federation planets.  Kala did tell me once in the past that there were a few worlds within the alliance that held strong to their own cultural perspectives or religions that included bans on nudity in varying degrees, but they tended to be few and far between.

The first time I heard Federation music was on the
TRITYTE
, when Kala and I found Lunnie and Reidecor dancing to music reminiscent of Earth’s disco music.  At the time I more or less assumed that it was the music of the day; however, as we entered the lounge on the
NEW ORLEANS
,
the music I heard was more like tango and milonga rhythms.  Without realizing it I had begun to move to the music.

“Ah, so you have
dance steps for this music, as well,” Kala said to me.  “Want to teach me a few?”

When teaching both martial arts and dancing to Kala in recent months, I discovered that she needed to be shown a step or movement only once before it became a permanent and easily recalled skill.  In just a few minutes we were doing a tango as finely and smoothly as I had ever danced with any partner.  We kept our eyes glued on each other as the rhythm carried us
; and when the music came to an abrupt end, we were shocked to hear cheering and applause all around the dance floor.  Everyone had stopped dancing to watch us.  Within seconds we were surrounded by people wanting to learn this “new” dance.  Unfortunately, few of them were as fast as Kala at learning the steps.

After a few more tangos the music stopped.  The lounge’s presiding host announced that we would be entertained by Kerabac while we caught a breath and refreshed ourselves with some beverages. 
It was obvious that Kerabac was quite popular, as I could barely hear the remainder of the introduction over the huge applause and roar from the audience.  A device stood in the middle of the stage that looked a little like a semi-circular table top mounted on a pedestal with a mushroomed base.  Kerabac emerged in a spotlight and walked to center stage as the applause grew even louder.  He wore an ivory short-sleeved shirt with a Nehru-like collar that contrasted sharply with his very dark skin.  He took a seat at the small stool and placed his hands on the semi-circle and it immediately became clear that this was some kind of keyboard that could mimic almost any sound.

The audience immediately hushed and stared in awe as he played a long and most moving piece that was classical in nature.  He finished
to loud applause and cheering and he turned his head with a smile and a nod to the audience.  From every recess of the lounge people began calling out song titles and other music requests.  He glanced at Kala and me with a slight smile as he began to play a prelude for a melody; and then, in a voice that sounded astoundingly like a famous performer of Earth named Nat King Cole, he began to sing.

For a moment I was struck still and
became filled with melancholy.  Nat King Cole had been one of my mother’s favorite singers.  I was flooded with memories of learning my first dances with her to Nat’s songs.  I noted that no one was dancing, but that didn’t matter to me.  I took Kala by the hand and said, “Come on.  I have some more dance steps to teach you.”

“But, Tibby,” Kala whispered, “no one dances to this type of music.”

“Humph… my ship, my rules.  If we want to dance to it, we can dance to it.”  Reluctantly, Kala got to her feet and followed me to the dance floor.  I pulled her close to me and began to lead her through a few of the basic steps.  In no time at all we were dancing gracefully about the dance floor as Kerabac sang one of the most beautiful ballads I had ever heard.  Slowly, a few couples entered the dance floor to copy the steps by watching Kala and me.  As we turned across the dance floor I looked toward the stage to see Kerabac gazing back at us with a broad smile of approval.  I looked again at Kala, whose delight could barely be contained as she let the dance and the music fill her.  For the first time since my grandparents died I felt like I was part of a family again.

When the song ended, applause and cheers once again filled the room.  This time I think I was cheering and applauding the loudest of all.  Kerabac beamed.  Once again voices called out with requests and he picked another ballad.  This time the floor was crowded, as everyone wanted to try out the new dance steps.  I glanced around the room to see if I could recognize anyone.  I saw Cantolla dancing with an attractive woman; and I was quite surprised to see Marranalis dancing with Major Sokaia.  All of them seemed to be having a good time.  I held Kala close and she laid her head on my shoulder, as we danced slowly past the front of the stage; and I felt like I
did indeed
own the universe.

The next morning a shuttle arrived from the surface of Nibaria.  Senator Tonclin wasn’t aboard, but there were ten Nibarians with instructions to seek me out for training as FSO agents.  Trooper guards accompanied the admiral and me to the solbidyum container where, once again, the admiral punched in the code that rele
ased a capsule containing a single grain of solbidyum.  The capsule was placed in a small metal case and sealed by the admiral, after which several Federation trooper guards and an equal contingent of Nibarian guards boarded the shuttle and returned to the surface with the solbidyum and reactor.  Once on the surface, the Federation troopers would return to the
NEW ORLEANS
in the shuttle and the Nibarians guards would be responsible for completing the delivery, as humans could not breathe the atmosphere without wearing cumbersome gear.  The entire round trip would take a little over three hours, after which we would be on our way back to Megelleon to pick up the FSO trainees we had left on the surface.

In the meantime, I had the day to get the Nibarian FSO trainees indoctrinated and settled into quarters.  I hoped that Piesew would have enough time
during this brief visit to bring some organic foods aboard and store them in stasis lockers.  Once everything was loaded and the additional recruits were aboard, we would begin our journey to the Aburn System to deliver their solbidyum and reactor and to meet up with the
PURFIRE
.

Indoctrination of the Nibarians didn’t go quite as easily as expected.  I had difficulty explaining to them why spying on their friends, allies, and their own government is as much in everyone’s best interest as spying on their enemies.  I think the greater part of what made it so difficult was that I personally don’t like it either; so trying to define the boundaries for others
, as to how far one can and should go in their efforts to ascertain and intercept subversive elements in one’s own government, was especially challenging.  In the end, they all agreed to go through the training, taking an oath to serve and protect the Federation in their special duties and to execute all spying activities to that end alone.  Some of their training would be different from that of the human recruits; physical constraints unique to the Nibarians would preclude them from serving on some planets, just as humans could not serve effectively on Nibaria.  Just as humans had no real understanding of the unique culture that defined the peoples of Nibaria, there would likewise be practices and traditions on some worlds that would be too far outside the abilities of Nibarians to manage as agents.

As the session with the Nibarians came to an end, I asked if there were any questions.  One Nibarian named Wonnuk asked, “Vice Admiral Renwalt, is it possible to have the nitrogen level raised in our quarters?  While we can breathe your atmosphere without difficulty, foods do not taste right nor do things smell right;
and it can be most distracting.  The modified levels need not include the nitrogen compounds fatal to humans, of course.”

“I think that can be arranged.  However it may be valuable for you to breathe the atmosphere of humans for at least part of your training.  Likewise, we may place the humans in a more nitrogen rich atmosphere for the same reason, minus the compounds fatal to them, of course.  You must understand that we are establishing something new that has not been done before within the Federation, at least not in the remembered or recorded history of the Federation.  There are no charts or lesson plans for us to follow;
so we will be creating this program as we go along.  For that reason, I encourage all of you to provide feedback so that we can continue to improve the parameters of your training and instruction.”

After the night of dancing at the lounge I noted a distinct difference in the crew’s attitude and behavior toward me.  They had always been polite and pleasant, but somewhat more reserved and formal than was comfortable for me.  Now they were more open, greeting me with warm smiles when they saw me approach.  A few would even stop me on occasion to ask for a comment or two on what they were doing right or wrong with their dance steps.  I suppose that some people may not like that degree of familiarity with their employees; but it gave me a real feeling of kinship with them.  They were no longer just a crew that reported to me as their boss; we were becoming a family and the ship was our home.  It was a feeling I really liked.

Early the next morning, shortly before sunrise passed over the capital city, the
NEW ORLEANS
took up an orbit above my estate on Megelleon.  I rode down in one of four patrol ships that we were going to use to pick up the FSO trainees from their wilderness survival exercise.  By the time I arrived, the last of them had made it into the resort.  Some had fared relatively well and appeared no worse for the experience; but several were heavily compromised as a result of near starvation, exposure, or illness from drinking tainted water.  These individuals were loaded onto a patrol ship equipped as a medical evacuation unit and treated en route to the
NEW ORLEANS
.  Most suffered primarily from severe dehydration.  One sustained a broken arm from a fall that occurred while trying to scale a rock face; and one had a rather bad infection that was contracted when he scratched his leg on the spine of a barb-a-sar, a plant that secretes a toxic sap known to break down the immune factors in humans and some animals.  Fortunately, this very serious condition could be fixed with transfusions and a program that involved ultraviolet light exposure and treatment of the original wound with a salve that the Federation used to accelerate healing.  It was strange to see the reactions of the recruits, which were easily differentiated into three distinct groups.  The first and, by far, the happiest group was made up of those who had practically thrived in the wilderness.  Finding shelter and food as they navigated to the pick-up point had been almost a delight for them.  The second group consisted of those who had not fared as well, but were able to figure out how to stay alive.  Some of these individuals managed to find a few food sources mostly by trial and error.  The last group, of course, encompassed those who had not fared well at all.  They huddled together in relative silence, looking dejected and ready to quit after their harrowing experience.  If they performed well during the remainder of the program, these were the individuals who would most likely become office staff and technicians, processing the data that the other two groups brought in from the field and providing the much needed support behind the scenes that would sustain and integrate all of the FSO operations.  Every one of them was needed.  However, I ultimately understood that not all would offer the same strengths or fill the same types of positions.  I soon realized that I was going to have to find someone in the admiral’s staff to take charge of the FSO, as I had no intention of spending my life running this operation and the admiral had thus far not communicated a plan to appoint someone for the task.  I had the perfect candidate in mind for the job.