It had been two rotations since the meeting I had with father. I could not get past the part where he had to die. In such an advanced culture as ours, there surely had to be a remedy. Another part that troubled me was being authorized. Authorized to do what, exactly? Sure, I believed the Kee deserved better but I was no more legal-minded than I was technical. All I wanted from existence was to work on my Seed Ship. I wanted to grow vegetables and raise animals. Life was my thing.

I spent a lot of my time in the dome observatory. It's not like I was planning, although I knew I needed one. I thought very little; I just sat there and watched the fleet. I was dazed. I was confused. Aside from the rudimentary chores, I did very little. I avoided my Kee to the point where they came looking for me. I made an appointment to inspect the ranch and I ignored Rigil's calls. The weight holding me down was just that great and when I found myself sitting idly before my communication node in my quarters, the door alarm startled me. Rigil's voice soon followed.

“Jeez, let me in. I know you're in there,” he said.

I had been puzzling over the pendant father had given me. I sat still, at first thinking to be quiet. While my errant hope was that Rigil would look elsewhere, I knew I would be wrong to avoid my friend any longer. I exhaled the breath I had been holding, laid the pendant on the node console, and swiveled in my seat to face the door.

“Come,” I said.

Rigil entered. He pulled a loose seat over and seated himself in front of me. He was close and looked earnestly into my eyes. He wore a loose-fitting white trouser of organic composition and a sleeveless white vest of the same material. He studied me in silence for a moment. When he sat back, I sensed that he had read me completely. He had scanned me with his narrowed eyes and came away with all the information he needed.

“You've avoided me,” he said. It was not an accusation, merely a statement.

“Yes,” I replied.

Then he asked, “Is something wrong?”

I answered, “I have had a lot on my mind and I am troubled.”

“That is why you should have sought me. I wish to help.”

“Really,” I asked? “Without knowing the depth of my problem?”

“Your solution sits before you,” he answered with a straight face.

The room was dim. The light from my node screen was reflected in my friend's eyes. I studied his calm features. I had to make a decision whether I would include my friend or attempt to move forward solely upon the authorization of my father. The only thing that I had settled in my heart at that moment was my total ineptitude. I realized at that moment that I needed friends. I needed friends who wanted to help. Rigil's presence, his words, they made perfect sense.

I said quietly, “I have a thing I must do.”

“A thing,” he repeated, leaving it open for me to explain.

“Father has authorized me to take the Kee matter to our court of inquiry.”

“You are the only choice,” replied my friend.

I confessed with a sigh, “I haven't a clue what needs to be done. This is as big as the fleet itself.”

“True,” said Rigil. “I have contacts on nearly every ship of the armada. Let me ask around. Even if you could manage this on your own, what fun would it be without friends?”

Of course, Rigil was absolutely correct to lead me in that direction. It would be a monumental undertaking. I would need support that was just as monumental. I would need a network throughout the fleet. Who better to bring that about than Rigil. He knew more people than I could count. I suppose he saw all that in my eyes. He smiled and I felt better. I could feel myself relax as I sat back and reached idly for the pendant. That piqued his interest.

“Well, now,” said he. “What have we here?”

I let him take it from my hand as I explained, “It is a gift from father. It is a node of some sort that will place us in immediate concert.”

“Interesting,” he said mostly to himself as he turned the pendant over in his hand.

“First,” I said, “I have to solve the puzzle.”

“Puzzle,” asked Rigil, looking up? “I like puzzles.”

“I've tried everything I can think of,” I confessed sadly. “I thought I might activate it with a twist or a turn but I can see no way to make it work.”

“Ah,” said he, peering closely along its edges. “Well, being a pilot, I can tell you no craft flies in only one direction.”

Confused by his reference, I asked, “What do you mean?”

With his eyes still on the pendant, Rigil replied, “When you've pulled to no avail, it is time to push.”

I looked to the pendant in his hands. He held it between thumb and forefinger. He pressed the top and bottom. When he applied pressure to the middle, we both sat back in surprise. The top bar snapped open with an audible click. The bar turned perpendicular to the bottom bar and locked itself in place with another small click.

“There you are,” said Rigil, handing the pendant across to me, a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

I took the pendant from him and studied his face in wonder. It was a little plus sign on a chain but, as I rubbed my thumb across the top bar, the pendant moved in my hand. A portion of the bottom bar extended from the end furthest from the chain. As it locked in place, I no longer held a plus sign but something different. All I could say was that the two bars crossed. As I looked back up into Rigil's smiling face, he spread his hands as if to say, problem solved.

He wanted me to put it on but I decided to set it aside for a time. We engaged in conversation for about a turn. We spoke of the people he might contact. He knew many legals and, of course, all the pilots of the armada. He assured me that the pilots had nothing to do and were bored. He told me that he would gather the pilots around my cause and I believed him. Rigil was a persuasive man. I wondered at times why he was not a legal. We satisfied our friendship and I apologized for having avoided him. One thing he told me before leaving was that my first step would be a formal claim. He briefly explained the term and said he would return with specifics. We hugged and he left me feeling positive about what lay ahead of me.

In his absence, I decided to place the pendant around my neck. Immediately, it was as if I could see two realities. It was spooky but I soon became accustomed to it as my present reality was the dominant of the two. The second reality was the anti-chamber of father's white room. It seemed as though I was seated at his desk reading a handwritten note. Then I saw my father's hand remove the note to a small side drawer of the desk.

“Father,” I asked?

“Hello, son,” was the unspoken reply. “Go about your business. I am here when you need me.”

I did not need to answer. The tone of his reply told me as much. Yet, my heart was glad. I was connected to father in a way no other was. I sat in my quarters until the second reality faded to a dim awareness and I felt I could approach my duties with a sense of assurance. All was good and I was at ease. On the one hand was Rigil, on the other hand, was father. I felt buoyed. I swiveled my seat to face the room. Life called to me – not the life immortal but that single rotation. I had a job to do, I had plans to make.

“Lights,” I called to the GM. My quarters brightened.

I went to my personal storage to decide on the work clothing I would wear. I chose my usual trouser; earth tones were my standard. I wanted to change from the white sleeved shirt I wore and I picked a sleeveless open vest, a raw sienna, as I felt it complimented my pendant. I admit I was proud of it. I put on my sandals and took the lift up. I had to visit the ranch where the animals were raised. That was in the second fourth, adjacent to the first fourth, where the Kee encampment was nestled among the fields and pine. After my assessment of the ranch, I planned to visit Thusa. Word had come to me that he wasn't feeling well.

The overhead lamps warmed me. I walked along the wooden fence that set a line between technology and nature. It was a long and pleasant stroll to the entrance of the second fourth. I filled my lungs with the pungent air. It spoke to me the various odors of plants, trees, flowers, and animals. It was a vibrant language, one I had enjoyed from my first rotation on the Seed Ship. I had apprenticed under Nathlan. Suddenly, my thoughts were flooded with fond memories of former times.

I remembered Nathlan's hand often on my shoulder. Whenever his words rang true and clear, each time I finally understood a lesson, each time I was able to solve a critical problem, Nathlan placed his hand on my shoulder, gave my back a single well-earned pat. He awarded me with the same accolade each time. I recall his words even now.

His words were these, “Every dark problem has its bright solution and you, Five, are a child of the light.”

Many wonderful rotations were spent beside my mentor, our knees in the moist dirt, our hands dark with the rich soil. It was Nathlan who taught me to ride a horse, to chase chickens and pigs, to build and repair pens, to sheer sheep. Nathlan taught me so much. He was my second father. His face always lit up at my approach and if he smiled before he spoke, I could not help but smile as well. It had worried me that Nathlan had left the Seed Ship prematurely. I intended to ask him why when next we met.

The gate and earthen path were before me. The path wandered through fruit trees beyond which I saw oak, ash, and walnut. I knew that behind the wall of trees were fields of grass and hay. The ranch managed all of our livestock. There were horses, cows, and bulls, swine and fowl, sheep and goats. There was also a fishery that provided multiple species. While atomics no longer ate, our current population of moleculars still needed daily nutrition. Blood was required for the many GUFs that powered our fleet.

Even before I took my first step along the earthen path, I could hear the faint din of animals. I could smell the musty mix of animal scents in the artificially circulated air. It smelled like home. I took a deep breath, exhaled, and took that first step. As there had been changes to the Kee encampment, I expected changes at the ranch as well. What those changes would be, I bothered not to wonder. I would soon be there. I would see. For the time, however, I just wanted to walk in the warm light. I wanted to watch the birds fly among the trees. I wanted to sniff a peach.

I came to a peach tree and found ripe fruit on the ground. I stooped to take a peach in hand and lifted it to my nose. I loved the smell of peaches. I loved the soft texture. As I stood there, stoking my senses, I followed the movement of a cardinal as it made its way up the path from limb to limb. I could see beyond the rows of fruit trees and into the ash. I noticed a young Kee perched on a lower branch. He did not move; he just sat and watched me sniff the peach. I waved at him in greeting but got no response. Instead, he scurried down from the tree and ran up the trail toward the ranch. Well, I knew they expected me but I found the presence of a lookout somewhat suspicious.

I dropped the fruit and continued up the trail. The sounds and scents increased. The Kee, normally a happy and vociferous race, I could not yet hear. I did not really find alarm in that. The scout would have warned of my approach so that the ranch hands could make their final preparations for the inspection. I was happy. Moving in among the tall walnut trees gave me a special sense of enclosure as if I walked through a tunnel. The shadow from the trees overhead cooled me and I felt refreshed. As I moved into the oaks, it seemed more like a forest and I recalled my time on the Kee homeworld. The oak trees were the more numerous in that fourth. I would have a bit of a walk left before reaching the ranch.

My thoughts were drawn to the world of the Kee. They called it Dahm which, as I recall, meant red. I remembered the red clay of the valley. I recalled the steep lush mountains that seemed primordial and mysterious. The Kee were a happy accident – at least for me. They did not come from a seeded world; we came across their planet as we exited the previous system. Dahm was one of eight planets that circled a dying sun. I had been allowed to go planet-side with the survey team. I was only a hundred and thirty-three revolutions at the time – newly released from my first AP.

The short version is that I stumbled on to a group of twelve Kee children when I became separated from the survey party. The children were all that remained of their tribe. They were being pursued by the warriors of a warring clan. I led them over a tree that had fallen across a steep ravine. I was inexperienced and found myself boxed in without egress. The warriors stood at the other end of the fallen tree, primitive spears at the ready. What could I do with twelve children huddled behind me? I stood upon the tree and spread my arms in a protective stance. I thought for sure I had reached an untimely end but then, the tree exploded at the far end. I fell back from the tree as it tumbled into the ravine.

On learning that I was lost, LUC came down to lead the search. How he railed on me for putting myself in peril. He hugged me so tightly I thought he might squeeze me in half. He loved me. LUC was my overprotective older brother. The team had hovers with them and so rescued me from my precarious perch above the ravine. The warriors who pursued the children had been driven back and the twelve Kee children were brought down with me. They were scared. They clung to me and, certainly, I felt for them. Our GM gave a rudimentary translation of their sad tale and father made the decision to include them among our peoples.

My reverie ended as I stepped out of oak shadow into the bright light. I was instantly warmed and could see the ranch beyond the open fields. It was a building made from logs. It was rough and unfinished and picturesque. I was happy to see it again. The fences were plain and simple. I touched them with my hands and my memories. Cattle on the right came to the fence in curiosity. Skittish mares on the left danced in close and sprinted away. I came to the fenced fields of the smaller animals. Sheep were on the right, afraid of the stranger, while goats, noisy and uncaring, were kept on the left of the path. As I came close to the main building, I could hear chickens that were kept in coops behind the ranch. I could hear turkeys that roamed freely among the uncut hay. I could hear the distant guineas barking in the resting fields.