The Stars Came Back (4 page)

Plataean1: (
Blurting out, sticking up for #3) He earned an extra two points by shutting it down correctly
after
he lost the arm and saving another guy injured in the blowup, and it really wasn’t his fault. He was just on duty at the time. (Plataean3 looks at #1 appreciatively)

Plataean3: (
Bitterly) Trying to get a drive tech job scoring an 8 isn’t going to happen.

Lag: You followed procedure and got things shut down safely,
after
losing an arm, hmmm? That’s not nothing.

Plataean4: (
Also sticking up for #3)
And
getting the senior drive tech out of the room.
He
was knocked out by the blast. And he was really the one responsible.

Lag: Hmmm… Well, the situation isn’t always as bad as you might think. An 8
is passing, if only just. I know someone that scored an 8 and is doing quite well. Good friend of mine, in fact. You still earned full rights of adulthood, and that’s worthy. But… (leans conspiratorially forward and lowers his voice), I do have to tell you… (they all lean in to hear, as he speaks almost apologetically) now that you are adults, you are representing Plataea and can be held fully accountable for your actions. There are some people at my table who have the ear of the Captain, and
they
don’t want to be bothered by your honestly deserved celebration. A more private place might be better. You should keep it down a bit… (looks pointedly at one of the young men, Plataean5) if word gets back of any brig time to your aunt Elen, Argo, she would not be amused. (Lag holds up his hands in mock surrender to forestall argument)
I
won’t tell. Komenagen deserves celebration. Just a word to the wise.

The table group suddenly realizes his point, and Argo sits back a little wide
eyed at the implications, while also wondering who Lag is and how he knows his name. They fall silent.

Lag pushes his chair back and gets up, raises his glass in salute.

Lag: Again, congratulations!

Lag turns and heads back for his table.

As he walks back he passes a young lady in clothes similar to those worn by the Plataeans at the table. She sees him and stops with a deer-in-the-headlights expression, as if she can’t believe who she’s seeing right in front of her. She watches him return to his seat, then hurries over to her table to join her friends. There is a rapid chatter of energetic whispers and gesturing, with some unclear louder voices, quickly dying down in the background.

CUT TO

Helton’s dinner table

Lag returns to the table and sits. Looking around at them, he nods and smiles cheerily.

Lag: They did well, and deserve a good celebration
. I think they understand things now and will be quieting down soon.

Senator: I should h
ope so, the rowdies. Kids today, no respect. What in a kid’s life is worth that kind of noise?

Lag: Komenagen. They are now legally adults. By the way,
Senator, did you know that the Plataean way to reply to an apology you accept is to say “proper”, meaning it was a proper apology, and no further action is needed?

Senator: (
Densely) Huh? I don’t get your point.

Doc
: (Almost simultaneous with the Senator) Them? Adults? But they look like kids!

Doc
’s Wife: What’s
Komen-
whatever?

Lag: Komenagen.
Plataean coming-of-age trial. Legal adulthood and voting rights are earned there and have no specific age. Some earn it by military service-

Senator’s
Wife: I’ve heard Plataean soldiers are bloodthirsty butchers!

Lag: -
some by earning a living on their own for a decade, but most go through a trial between the ages of 15 and 21 standard years to demonstrate adult capabilities.

Doc
’s Wife: How barbaric!

Lag: Not at all. “Things not earned are not valued.” The individual picks the challenge, with advice from adults close to them. It can be something relatively easy, like planning and catering a full dinner for 20 people, including childcare and entertainment, for someone with more limited abilities and modest aspirations, to apprenticeships like one of those young men went for, or even some very difficult, perhaps life
threatening, challenges, that may take a year or more to complete. Military service in battle often passes on its own merit.

Trask: (
Sounding unconvinced) So why doesn’t everyone just do something simple and be done with it?

Lag
shrugs and serves himself from a some dishes set in front of his place.

Lag:
True, all who pass legally become adults, regardless of score… but that score becomes the first point on their resume. A high score can help one’s prospects a great deal.

Doc
: So, how
is
it scored, if everyone is doing different things?

Lag: It is based on three simple scores from 1 to 5
, overall difficulty, difficulty for the chosen challenge relative to that person’s particular abilities, and actual performance. Those three numbers are multiplied together, and any extra points they earn are added in.

Senator: They… hey, the big drunk one is coming over. I hope you didn’t just make him angry!

The Senator glares at Lag, who smiles and applies himself to his food while Plataean3 approaches.

Plataean3 walks unsteadily up to their table, and the dining room buzz quiets down to watch.

Plataean3: (Looking straight ahead, sort of at attention, but turned toward Lag) I apologize if we-

Lag quietly
cuts him off with a sound, then nods toward the rest of the table, and speaking very quietly and pointedly.

Lag: Ah. Not me. Them.

Plataean3 slurs his words slightly, seemingly thinking about it hard to make sure he speaks correctly, and he turns towards the Senator.

Plataean3: We are sorry if we disturbed you Sir, that was not our intent. It won’t happen again.

He then stands there, awaiting a reply from the surprised table.

Senator: (
Confirming with Lag) Uh, proper? (Lag nods) Proper!

Plataean3 nods assent, does an about
face, returns to his table briefly, then heads out the door with three others.

The people at Lag’s table look between themselves, at the departing Plataeans, then at Lag.

Senator: (Eyebrows raised in surprise) What did you say to them?

Lag: (
Seemingly preoccupied by eating then looking up from his dish) Hmmm? Oh, I just wished them well and explained the situation clearly.

Lag
takes another bite of his food, as if he’d explained everything, and it was trivial.

Senator: How did you know he’d apologize?

Lag: (Swallow) Wasn’t
sure
, but it was a likely outcome. With clear understanding a best course is usually obvious.

Penger Trask: (
Curiously) I’m sorry, I didn’t catch if you said what you do.

Lag: Ah. Didn’t. Dispute resolution and troubleshooting. Mostly corporate or intergovernmental. (
Smiling) Occasionally interpersonal.

Trask: It seems you know your business.

Lucretia Trask: (Ingratiatingly) Perhaps you could settle a small dispute at the table?

Lag: Maybe. No guarantees, unless… (
joking grin) you get a contract and a bill.

There is general laughter around the table.

Lucretia Trask: Well, before you arrived there was a question as to which occupation was more important, a senator, or a doctor?

Everyone at the table
becomes either silent and interested or slightly embarrassed at the obvious attempt to liven things up at someone else’s expense.

Lag: Ah, I see. So, if I may interpret your question more
precisely, you are asking me to say who is the most important person at this table?

There is some half
hearted protesting by the Doc and Senator and their spouses that that isn’t really what was being questioned, but also some hearty “that’s a great way to put it” by the rest of the passengers at the table and a few nearby who have been listening in. Lag looks around at everyone seated.

Lag: Well
… (chews thoughtfully while looking around the table) Obviously I don’t know everyone perfectly, so there is always a chance I’m wrong, but… a senator passes laws that affect
everyone…
but if he makes a mistake, he doesn’t know who died, there are lawsuits, money changes hands, and he passes another law while blaming the opposition.

There are general gasps of agreement at the baldness and accuracy of his words
.

Lag: A surgeon holds life in
his hands. If he makes a mistake, someone dies on
his
table…

The Senator and
his Wife look flustered, the Doctor smiles but says nothing.

Lag: But it’s only that one person.

The Doc frowns, and the Senator’s Wife smiles.

Lag: However
… judging by the flaming cogwheel of a drive tech, the number of stripes on his sleeve and bags under his eyes, the chief engineer down there (everyone swivels to look at the somewhat disheveled older man in an ill-fitting and rumpled ship uniform, with a badge on one shoulder and many service and rank stripes), has been putting in long hours keeping this old bird flying. If he makes a mistake, we all die. I’d say he is the most important person on this ship right now.

There is a general acclamation of his answer at the table, muted protests by both the Senator and Doc and their wives, and the
Chief Engineer’s surprised expression slowly turns into a grin.

DISSOLVE TO

Same table. The evening
passes, dinner eaten, conversation moved on, seating shuffled a bit, and now Lag and the Chief sit next to each other.

Lag: (
Quietly, and directly towards the Chief) Seriously, how are things?

Chief: Holding together. We’re down a few
key guys so we do a few extra shifts. Keeps us busy. No real problems, though.

Lag nods in understanding and leans back in his chair.

DISSOLVE TO

Same table, later. The view is from behind and between Trask and Lag as they sit leaning slightly together and half facing the table, Bipasha and Helton are chatting in the background.

Trask: Well, that
is
a way to end an argument, though I think you made an enemy or two.

Lag: (
Chuckling) I said I
settle
disputes, not that I make people happy… Besides, bending a third rate snollygoster that will get voted out next election and a man with delusions of importance and a lot of blustery arrogance but no power outside his hospital is a small price for truth.

Trask: Well, you certainly made everyone
else
at the table happy.

Lag: It
is
amazing how a little perspective makes things clear, isn’t it?

Trask: (
Somewhat more seriously) Yes, indeed. You know, I was wondering…

Lag: (
Knowingly) If I’m available for some intractable problem you have?

Trask nods the affirmative and looks inquiringly at Lag.

Lag: Things are a little busy at the moment, but I may have some openings. What and where?

Trask: I was heading to Throwdart II to deal with a series of dispute
s at a local mine. It seemed to finally be settled after an explosion killed some people, but now the accounting is looking very… odd. And I’m not getting any straight answers from anyone.

Lag: Hmmm… I don’t usually do accounting issues, but… Throwdart II is interesting. Rough place a while back, with a very ugly mine strike. Quiet now, I hear.

Penger Trask: (Nodding) Ah, good, you know of it. So… any chance you’ll be out that way?

Lag: Not planning on it, but it’s not too far off course. If we catch a swirl that forces us over that way, I might be able to drop in. Are you going directly there?

Penger Trask: Not quite. I’ve another couple of stops. I should land there in a month or so.

Lag: Well, we can talk more as we get closer to transfer, and I’ll see what looks possible.

FADE TO BLACK

FADE IN

EXT - NIGHT - Dimly lit space station, black of space in background

Several ships are attached to a large
transfer point space station in orbit four or five AUs from the star, well out to the edge of its gravity well. One liner is approaching, a freighter is leaving. Both are glowing faintly. Serene and quiet, looking as if everything is going according to a computer-regulated plan. On one of the docked liners there is a small flash of an explosion, and debris sprays away from it into space.