This is not going where I originally thought. You would think that making trouble with people who are predisposed to like you is a stupid move, but there have been times when demis have acted, to me, erratically. I’m beginning to wonder if there is some kind of mental stress Fusions suffer from, as a new, genetically mixed race.

This will be a tough one to write my way through. Was is especially disturbing is that I saw what Luce does when I was at church on Sunday. It’s an important enough plot point to be gifted to me, but I am at a loss, right now. Hope to start figuring it out tomorrow for a Friday post.

Enjoy my content? Buy me a beer!

The kids thought being in the forward observation room of Caper, and with Pai’s 4G accelerations and decelerations, was the most fun thing, ever, and even quiet Tér was laughing.  They went first back to Wilmington, in the middle of the night, so now the little ones were sleeping, for more clothes and other items.  And most importantly…

“Boof!” Snow said, after he was coaxed up into the ship, and not at all happy about it.  From somewhere, Pai found some blankets and made a bed for the white furball, already shedding into their ship.

Another quick stop at the ten acre spread of Istvan Hartmann, grandson of Empress Aurelia, and his wife, Llaura, with their infant son, butted up next to the very old Chickamauga Battlefield Park, then had Graf and Pai tearing west.

“Over the pole to Japan?” he asked, a bit tired at oh two-hundred in the morning.

“One stop first.  Your possible next wife, you lecher, you!” she said, snuggling as close as she could in the uncomfortable seats.

“My…what?” Awake now.

“Luce.  She leads of faction of Fusions and could make trouble,” Pai said, after a small kiss to calm him down.  “I want her to know you are still interested enough to drop by.”

“Am I interested?” he said, tired.  I have to sleep…

“Diplomacy is seduction in another guise, dearest Graf…” She stopped when she realized he was asleep.  “I’ll do some checks and maintenance.  And, so you can rest, I’ll slow us down.  We’ll get there at dawn rather than thirty minutes from now.”

Pai paused in the doorway.  Her new eyes flared gold.  “I love you.  I love all of you.  Let us stop this.  Any way we can.”

She let me sleep, although now I can barely move, and said she wanted a word with Prefect Simmons while I wash my face and brush my teeth.  Not much water on Caper, so I might need to help top it off, later.  This was an unexpected stop, and I wonder how many more she has planned.

Walking around the small ship’s central core, Graf made for the storage room for a new set of clothes.  The door to the outside slid open and his wife in her new body came in.

“Getting dressed?  Good.  We might have some hiking ahead of us, so plan accordingly,” she told him.

“Hiking?  Hopefully not up the huge mountain, Shasta, just north of here.”

“Please!  It’s only fourteen thousand feet,” she laughed.  “My old body did worse in the Caucasus’s.”

“We’re not all androids, wife,” he grumbled, selecting warmer clothes and hiking boots.

“It hopefully won’t wear you out too much.  Simmons said that he thought Luce was to the west, along the coast,” Pai said, pushing past him and taking her jacket off for another.  When she saw the question in his eyes, she said, “That one has the patch of the Imperial Russian Space Navy.  Don’t want anyone the DMZ to think I’m a scout.”

He felt motion and steadied himself against a bulkhead.

“Due west of here is a place called Arcata Bay,” she said, changing into a third jacket, as the one she tried was suited for her old body and wouldn’t close over her chest.  “Not a deep water harbor or anything large, but they have a goodly-sized commercial fishing fleet.  If Luce really is planning on taking control around here, she’ll need access to the ocean.  About the only other town would be Crescent City, about a hundred miles north.”

“So, she must have a ship of some kind stashed around here?” Graf mused.  “Can’t you just radio that and ask to meet up?”

“Look at you!” she laughed, kissing his cheek.  “Mister ‘I’m in the twenty-third century, now!’  Oh.”

Her change in demeanor was instant.  “Problem?” Graf asked.

“No, not to us.  Luce has agreed to meet with us and we should be there in about five minutes.  My love?  Never, ever, be alone with her.”

“Hey,” not happy with the out of the blue accusation, “that is insulting, wife…”

“I’m not talking sex,” she said over him.  “Luce has just killed someone.  A human in law enforcement.  We must be cautious.”