The Eirene Initiatives: Mind Fusion Book 5

By M. Bradley Davis

"Oh, bo-oys, have we got a vacation for you!"

Jerry and Kelvin return to Caris for two tasks. One is deadly serious; the other might be tremendous fun-as well as

• Language: English
• Publisher: URLink Print & Media, LLC
• Release date: Jul 29, 2025
• ISBN: 9798896902188

M. Bradley Davis

M. Bradley Davis’ sixth grade English teacher made a mistake. She introduced him to poetry (Thank you, Mrs. Foster!). Since then, Mr. Davis discovered he isn’t a poet. However, he loves telling stories. Mr. Davis wrote short stories during high school. Novels appeared toward the end of college. Mr. Davis became a teacher and taught fourth grade for thirteen years. He taught all the usual subjects, including courtesy, honesty, respect, and truthfulness, too. Mr. Davis was listed in Who’s Who Among America’s Teachers, and twice listed in Who’s Who Among Young American Professionals. He recently retired from the school district’s technology department. His former students inspire Mr. Davis’ characters. He enjoys spending time with young people, and finds tidbits for his stories in the people around him. Mr. Davis is active in his church. His hobbies include reading, writing, amateur astronomy, and photography. This is Mr. Davis’ tenth book published through AuthorHOUSE. Tunnel Of Dreams is a short fantasy novel. The Hand in the Mirror, The Canopus Conundrum, and Encounter at Lalor are the volumes in the MindFusion series. A Spark of Magic, The Broken Violin, and Arianne’s Waltz are the volumes in the Musica Con Fuoco series about gifted musicians. I’ll Be Seeing You is the fourth book in this series. The Enchanted Rapiers and The Reluctant Prince are historical fantasies leading cousins into their family’s past, and are the first books in the Swords Through Time series. The Hand in the Mirror was a Fiction-SciFi finalist in the 2003 ForeWord Magazine Book of the Year competition and an Honorable Mention entry in the 2012 Hollywood Book Festival; Encounter at Lalor was an Award Finalist in the National Best Book Awards 2008 Competition. Mr. Davis lives in Houston, Texas.

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CONTENTS

Pronunciation Guide

Prologue

1. Dilemma

Part One: Shaphatim

2. Spring Fever

3. Taking Leave

4. Concerns

5. Arrivals

6. Revelations

7. Procedures

8. Challenges

9. Quiet Time

10. Learning

11. Beauty

12. Arbiters

13. Discontent

14. Nature Center

15. Precedents

16. Final Arbitration

17. Defenders

18. Consequences

Part Two: Torah

19. Mission Brief

20. Galactica

21. Organizing Chaos

22. Unexpected Neighbors

23. The Stromboli System

24. Survey Camp Life

25. Floral Non-scents

26. Catching a Breath

27. Going Tubing

28. Weather

29. Eclipse

30. Rescue

31. Departures

32. The Eirene Initiatives

Epilogue 

33. Changing Roles

Afterword

Pronunciation Guide

This list tells how to say special words and alien names used in the story. I added a pronunciation in parentheses the first time each word appears in the story; this is a handy repeat reference.

Prologue

1. Dilemma

Mr. President, Chief Magistrate Hern is here.

Darid Laskay, President of Caris, looked up from the complex budget proposal on his desk. His senior assistant stood in the doorway. He felt at home in his office for the first time in several years. The fact that he’d been there for more than six months in a row this time—instead of on some other planet—probably had something to do with that. Even dealing with the planetary budget hadn’t dulled his enjoyment over being home.

Darid’s blue eyes widened. The supreme court’s chief magistrate is here? He wondered what was going on; the budget might suddenly be much more appealing. Arran Hern didn’t come visiting very often… Please show him in. With those words, Darid laid aside his stylus and rose from his desk to greet his visitor.

The assistant stepped aside and guided Hern into the office. Darid’s assistant nodded to the president before departing and closing the door. Supreme Court Chief Magistrate Arran Hern was a muscular man, large of arm and leg, and slightly taller than Darid. His white hair, creased face, and snapping blue eyes gave him a commanding presence, especially on the judicial bench. As Chief Magistrate, he was the head of the planet’s judicial branch of government, Darid’s co-equal, though the president was named as actual head of state for the planetary government. Arran Hern was highly respected throughout Carisian legal circles and by the public at large. Darid was also pleased to call him a friend upon whose sober judgment he could depend.

Welcome, Chief Magistrate, Darid said warmly and extended his hand in greeting. He and the chief magistrate exchanged a brief handclasp.

Thank you, Mr. President. Arran’s smooth voice returned the greeting. He examined the president’s face carefully. Darid’s blue eyes sparkled, his leonine black hair remained dark and without a trace of gray, despite the stressful job he occupied. Darid looked healthy and content.

Please, Arran, have a seat, Darid requested, gesturing toward a seating area with large, comfortable chairs facing each other across a small table. The arrangement sat in a corner niche where windows provided a magnificent view of Andisa, the Carisian capital city. The two men settled into chairs and relaxed.

I expect you’ve been enjoying an extended time on planet lately, Hern observed wryly. You’ve had a busy couple of years.

Darid chuckled and nodded. After the months-long sessions on Canopus V, the weeks-long excursion to Lalor, and the extended rescue and First Contact at Morea, Rita and the kids almost don’t notice when I must make a day trip or two to one of our facilities in the system, he admitted. They’re just glad to have me here for so much of the time.

Rita was Darid’s wife of many years. The kids were Barrett and Lauren. Barrett was Darid’s and Rita’s fourteen year old son; Lauren was Barrett’s complement, also fourteen. Barrett found her almost four years previously, just after he’d turned eleven; a middle-of-the-night residence complex fire from which few escaped orphaned her. Barrett sensed her presence nearby three days later and led his mother straight to her. Barrett and his mom were out shopping when he felt the mental—psionic—tugging, pulling him toward someone he didn’t know. She was covered in soot, hungry, and embarrassed to be seen in such a state; she’d not eaten for more than a day. An air of sadness, loss, and infinite loneliness surrounded her. Barrett promised that her sadness was past, that she’d never be alone again, and that he would stay beside her no matter what. He kept his word, staying with her through the horror of their Ritual Ordeal that went terribly wrong—until Barrett’s childhood best friend, Kelvin, and his complement, Jerry, saved all of them.

Darid briefly reflected on the changes since. He and Rita accepted Lauren as their ward until she and Barrett were of an age to marry. Lauren was a totally different person now—bright, cheerful, energetic, and utterly devoted to her complement. She brought much joy to their family.

How are the Moreans? Hern wanted to know. After we ratified the treaty, they didn’t get to stay on-planet long.

Darid nodded agreement. Now that we have a local food source they can use, Ambassador Zutabe (zoo-TAH-bay) has returned from Morea and taken up residence in their new embassy. The Moreans’ biology was just different enough from the Carisians’ that they couldn’t get nourishment from Carisian foods; they could eat them, but the Moreans needed a source from their home’s biology. Caris built and protected a special reserve for them to raise that food. He and his family seem to be settling in well. They are very popular with every part of the government and with much of our industry, Darid admitted. Their children seem at home in our education system, too. They’ve joined classes and appear to be excelling in their studies. Adorea (AH-dor-AY-ah) and Fede (FAY-day) are just as popular as their parents.

Crested heads and purple-toned skin set the Moreans completely apart from the natives of Caris; it didn’t seem to matter. They were welcomed almost as if they were royalty, though neither planet was organized that way any longer.

Good, Hern approved. I wish them much success.

Thank you. Darid shifted slightly in his chair. You don’t usually come by just to make small talk, he noted with a smile.

No, Arran agreed, although the small talk is pleasant, you’re right; I don’t. We have a…situation…coming up that will affect both of us. I’d like to avoid a constitutional crisis, if I can. I wanted to chat with you about it.

Please do, Darid encouraged. Avoiding a constitutional crisis sounds like a very good idea.

Three years ago, a force of very motivated young people thwarted an overthrow attempt on the government. Darid nodded. We tried the terrorists responsible for a pile of charges in addition to the attempted coup, including murder of the two young people who died, interference with the Ninth Continent Ritual Ordeal, and the torture of over a hundred candidates. Again, Darid nodded agreement. The attempted coup is the only charge that actually bears a death sentence.

Yes, Darid agreed. Treason, which is what they were convicted of, is the only crime on Caris that still bears an automatic sentence of death. That penalty is written into our Constitution, and cannot be changed by simple legislation.

Exactly so, Hern nodded. The other charges, heinous though they may be, usually result in long-term commitment to rehabilitation for the offenders—except under special circumstances. The prosecutors invoked those special circumstances on the torture charges because there are thirty-four pairs of young people whose lives have been ruined beyond repair by the terrorists. None of them will ever recover enough to become either independent or contributing members of our society. They require assistive care for the rest of their lives.

I know. My heart, like everyone else’s, hurts for them.

Torture, when charged as a special circumstance, can also possess a death sentence.

Yes, it can, Darid agreed. It did.

The magisterial panel convicted the terrorists on all charges. We’ve worked through the appeals since then.

Sounds like a normal major case, Darid offered.

Pretty much, Hern agreed. The appeals filed over procedural matters found no irregularities or errors in the trial.

Good.

Appeals to overturn on evidentiary items have also been denied.

Again, Darid nodded his approval.

The appeal filed over the elevation of charges against the terrorists was rejected after additional consideration on the nature of the offenses and the actual charges brought. The ruling upheld the charges and hinted that even stiffer charges would have been supported by the case’s evidence.

Darid raised an eyebrow. What’s left?

Only the final, independent review required by our constitution, Hern replied. That’s what brings me to you today. Throughout the appeals process, the various magistrates involved, especially those on the highest court, have faced enormous behind-the-scenes pressure to commute the death sentences to life in rehabilitation and reduce the other charges to a more customary level. So far, everyone has resisted. They’ve left that choice for the final arbiter.

Darid let out a long breath, citing a part of the constitution from memory. The final arbiter cannot be a member of the judiciary. Hern nodded. That arbiter may not be a member of any government agency.

Nor may it be a member of the legislature or of any local or regional government, Hern added. Lastly, the person chosen as final arbiter cannot have any knowledge of the trial proceedings. He or she must be able to rule only on the records and testimony presented at the final hearing, and may determine only one of two choices: death or life in rehab.

So, we’re basically looking for a private citizen who didn’t read about or watch the publicly broadcast trial.

And, because of the pressures already exerted on behalf of the convicted, we need to find someone who is as close to incorruptible as we can. Hern shook his head. "Our magistrates have avoided temptation because there’s safety in numbers. The final arbiter must act alone. That aloneness will make the arbiter vulnerable to outside influence. I don’t know of anyone who fits those criteria." He looked at Darid hopefully.

What? Darid asked almost querulously, you expect me to pull a rabbit out of my hat?

Well, Mr. President, you’ve been known to accomplish that feat in the past, Hern told him with a smile.

"I hate command performances," Darid muttered.

I know, Darid, Hern soberly agreed, but somehow you manage to pull it off every time.

Thanks, Arran…I think.

"Do you know of someone?"

Darid thought for a long moment. You know, I just might, he finally said. The question is how much time we have.

Completion of the appeals process hasn’t been announced yet, Hern told him. "Once that happens, the arbiter has six months to present the review. If he cannot complete the process in that time, the sentence is automatically commuted to life in rehabilitation. That’s written into the constitution."

Darid pulled a tablet from a nearby table. His fingers flew across its surface, running a complex calculation. It required several minutes because he had to do it manually; the formula involved the use of ephemerides (lists of objects and motions in the night sky) from different catalogs…some of which weren’t available to anyone else. Finally, he looked up. That should be plenty of time, he told the Chief Magistrate. When do you plan to announce?

First of next week, Arran told him. "Assuming we can…pardon the expression…execute the arbitration process within the next six months, that is."

We should be able to do so, Darid assured him. I can have an arbiter for you within three months.

Briefed on the legal requirements and ready to arbitrate?

Darid nodded. Yes—if you can have a legal expert ready when I need him.

I’ll do it myself, Arran promised.

Darid nodded his acceptance. That actually might be the best choice available to us. He knew how good Hern was!

Then, with your approval, Mr. President, Hern said quietly, I’ll announce the completion of appeals on first day next week.

Please do, Darid encouraged. I’ll be just as glad as you to finish this distasteful task.

Hern rose from his chair, along with Darid. The men shook hands, and the chief magistrate strode from the office with a lighter step than he’d used upon entering it.

Darid had just finished adjusting his budget proposal when the communications console chimed again. It identified the caller as Marshall Anset, his vice-president.

Yes, Marshall?

I saw the Chief Magistrate exiting your office. Are you free?

Sure. Come on over.

Since their offices were side by side, Marshall didn’t have to go through the outer office. He simply opened the connecting door and strode in.

How’d the meeting with Hern go?

Fine, Darid told him. He’s announcing completion of appeals on the coup trial first of next week.

Arbiter time?

Yes, Darid nodded. I promised to find an arbiter for him. Darid’s eyes twinkled.

Marshall Anset, brown-haired, dark-eyed, appearing tanned but somewhat weather-beaten, stood slightly shorter than Darid’s height. He was a very few years younger than his close friend, the president; neither of them was bowed down by the weight of their offices. Marshall’s dry personality, with a biting sense of humor, could strike at unexpected moments—like now.

Ah! The magician returns!

Not you, too! Darid moaned playfully.

No, Marshall sympathized. I just couldn’t resist.

Figures. Darid sighed. What brings you over?

We’ve watched The Youth Academy for some time now.

Darid nodded. They’ve been producing some remarkably bright recruits for our Navy, he agreed.

Well, this year’s crop has produced a very unusual yield, Marshall told him. They have a group of more than a dozen young people who’ve excelled in some widely varied fields. They’re a year short of graduation, but they’re already outstripping the senior class. They’ve done well enough to warrant a chance to use what they’ve learned before they must undergo more training.

Oh? What fields?

Geology, Botany, Biology, Physics, Astrophysics, Cartography—many of those with the prefix Exo, too— Field Medicine, and even a couple of more-than-budding Engineers.

Interesting. Darid knew that his son Barrett, and Lauren, his complement, both attended The Youth Academy.

The only major areas the group lacks are Command, Piloting, and Navigation.

Those are skills taught only by the Naval Academy…or through private instruction.

Marshall nodded.

Darid grinned. I know what you have in mind, my friend. Let’s find out if it’s possible.

The pair sat down in comfortable chairs. Darid called up the holographic communications system and entered an address. A moment later, a man in a Fleet Admiral’s black undress uniform appeared to sit across the table from them.

Good afternoon, Kolya, Darid said warmly. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.

No, Mr. President; I was just—trying—to finish some paperwork. Darid didn’t miss the chuckle buried deeply in Admiral Baran’s voice.

An administrator’s paperwork is never done, Darid agreed, especially mine. My desk is buried, and I have no hope of ever seeing its surface again.

I’m overcome with sorrow, Sir.

Darid laughed.

What may I do for you, Mr. President?

"Marshall and I were wondering if you might know the current status and location of Galactica."

As a matter of fact, I do, Baran told them. "Galactica is currently in the yard undergoing refit and upgrade. Refit trials are set to begin in less than three weeks. She’ll be ready for service shortly thereafter—assuming no major glitches."

Darid and Marshall both knew that Galactica was a KELLAR-class ship, toward the high end of that class’s mass range, intended for training purposes. Galactica had three decks, was slightly more than two hundred meters long, and had a shuttle bay complex on the top deck that could support three research shuttles. She was designed to be operated by a command crew of three: a pilot, navigator, and engineer. Her original design could accommodate up to fourteen additional crewmembers; this refit expanded the crew capacity, in varying fields to twenty-four, with room for an additional three command-qualified staff, for a maximum of thirty personnel.

Are there any immediate plans for her after refit is complete?

No, Mr. President, Baran told him. "Galactica will sit idle for roughly half a year before the first Academy training crew comes aboard. We allowed that much time in case problems appeared in the refit process; they’re integrating some new systems that are ready for testing in the field, in addition to recovering space for the additional crew through modernization of older systems. The yard thought they might have issues, but so far, they haven’t."

I may want to borrow her for a special short-duration training mission during that free time, Darid informed him.

She’ll be at your disposal if you need her, Sir.

Thank you, Kolya. Let me chase down all the pieces and see if I can get it organized. I’ll let you know in the next few days.

Yes, Sir. Thank you, Mr. President.

"Thank you, Admiral Baran." Darid nodded, as also did Marshall, and they severed the connection from their end.

Do you think The Youth Academy will jump at it? Darid asked, straight-faced.

Marshall pursed his lips. They might even trip over their feet in their haste—if you provide them with a command crew.

I think so, too, Darid agreed. I was just about to call them, anyway.

Why would you call…? Marshall’s voice trailed off as suspicion dawned. "They’ll kill you, you know," he said with an evil grin.

That’s why I want to offer them a fun and different vacation when they’re done, Darid smiled. I’d like to keep my life, if possible.

Marshall sobered. What about the engineer they’ll need?

You said that The Youth Academy had several ‘more than budding’ engineering candidates, Darid reminded him. I’ll bet Barrett is one of them; he’s been studying privately with several of our chief engineers while they’re overseeing yard refits on their ships, in addition to his classes. He’s advancing rapidly and should be more than capable enough for what they’ll be doing, especially with an AI to oversee him. Lauren’s shown an aptitude for systems protocols. She could manage computer networks and communications without difficulty, I think. We can put additional command-qualified staff aboard to provide mutual support for all of them. That will include a fully qualified physician and engineer.

Okay, Marshall accepted reluctantly, but you’d better make the reward exceptionally tempting for them because of the first job they’ll have to tackle for you.

Oh, I will, Darid promised. I will.

Marshall watched as Darid began setting up a specially encrypted interstellar call. Marshall knew Jerry had infected Darid with earth’s science fiction movies; NORMAN had even provided a limited collection with some of Jerry’s favorites. Darid had recently shown him a film from earth titled Westworld. It had fascinated him, and Marshall remembered something that brought a smile to his face. He just couldn’t resist using something he recalled, so he did. "Oh, boooyys!" he stretched out the noun in a sing-song tone. "Have we got a vacation for you!" The last two words seemed to echo away into infinity.

Darid couldn’t complete the connection due to his sudden fit of laughter.

PART

ONE

PART ONE: SHAPHATIM

2. Spring Fever

Jerry Saunders and Kelvin Merritt sat in their eighth grade physical science class listening patiently to their teacher. None of their classmates realized how remarkable a situation this was. Jerry came from this rural town in the middle of the United States, but Kelvin didn’t. Kelvin was born on the planet Caris, 40 light-years across space. He and Jerry were best friends who shared some truly unusual gifts: They could manipulate the world around them with their minds. They discovered their relationship three years before, at age eleven; since then, they’d shared in many adventures and become even closer than twin brothers might be. Their minds were so closely matched that they could literally combine into a fused personality capable of incredible acts.

No one around them realized they depended on their fusion for that patience; what the teacher presented was very basic mathematical formulae for calculating acceleration and force in the presence of gravity. Both boys mastered those equations—and considerably more complex ones—two years before when they learned to fly their Raptor-class shuttle, Orion. This wasn’t even review for them; they could do these simple problems without giving them any concentration—and provide correct answers every time. The mind-brothers knew they’d be covering this topic today, so last night they’d done a bit of preparation…in hopes of livening the class’s somewhat pedantic pace. Their teacher saw their bland expressions; he had no idea what they had in mind for him, but was about to find out.

Mr. Saunders, he called. I’ve started the calculation needed to lift an object from the Earth and overcome Earth’s gravity. Please complete it for me.

Jerry rose from his seat. Yes, Sir, he agreed, and approached the chalkboard. Jerry was almost as tall as his teacher this year; he and Kelvin had both sprouted several inches in height during the past few months. His brown hair and eyes gave him a very likeable appearance; some of the girls in their class were trying to notice. Trying was as far as they managed though; none of them knew that Jerry and Kelvin were already claimed by a vivacious pair nearly their age. Eleene and Maryse, whom the boys had met on Caris years before, had made it clear at the end of last summer that they expected to resume developing the relationship they’d started with the mind-brothers the next time they returned to Caris.

Jerry picked up a piece of chalk, studied the formula for a few seconds Kelvin knew he didn’t need, and then swiftly wrote the rest of it, showing his work. When he finished, Jerry turned toward his teacher.

Behind them, the classroom door opened and someone entered. No one looked; they were too interested in Jerry’s quick work. He’d done it faster than anyone in the room thought possible.

As you can see, he explained, the amount of force required to lift that mass to orbital altitude is prohibitively high. You left something out, Sir. He quickly drew a diagram showing two partial circles, one inside the other. A dotted line on a curving path went from the inner circle to the outer. He labeled the inner circle EARTH and the outer circle orbit (100 mi.). He quickly followed the diagram with additional equations calculating the needed force to lift the mass into orbit along the curved path, using the Earth’s gravity for help. These were orbital mechanics equations they’d also learned two years previously. As he worked, Jerry added another curved line above the initial orbital circle and extended his dotted line until it intercepted that new line. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, glanced at it, added some data to his calculations, and finished the problem by adding a time reference at the flight’s endpoint.

Launching our proposed rocket in the direction of Earth’s rotation lets us use the Earth’s gravity to assist the launch. I can put the same mass into the orbit occupied by the International Space Station using the same amount of force needed to lift it straight up 100 miles. If anyone’s interested, the ISS will pass overhead tonight at 10:23PM. He circled the end time he’d written at the higher orbit and then labeled the orbit ISS - 230 mi.

The teacher studied his student’s work. You’ve been holding out on me, Mr. Saunders. Your work is correct—and more advanced than anything in our textbook.

I like to read, Sir, Jerry said with a smile.

Some of that reading wouldn’t be advanced mathematics, would it? his teacher asked.

Sometimes, Jerry admitted, although I read other things, too.

The teacher looked at the students. Mr. Merritt, he called.

I wouldn’t, a deep male voice suggested. Everyone recognized it as Mr. Woodley’s voice. Mr. Woodley was the school’s principal. "I suspect they’ll both startle you even more."

Kelvin grinned. What were you going to ask, Sir? Kelvin’s appearance differed slightly from Jerry’s. He was blond-haired and blue-eyed, and less than an inch taller than Jerry. That slight height difference had been there as long as the boys knew each other. He, like Jerry, had girls urging him to take notice; but he, too, knew better than to risk Maryse’s ire when they returned to his homeworld—probably in little more than two months, now.

Only if you had something to contribute, the teacher said, waving toward the board.

A bit, Sir, Kelvin agreed as he stood. Jerry’s shown you the flight path needed to place our mass directly into orbit at the altitude and inclination used by the ISS, he said. In order to do that successfully, the rocket would have to launch in a window tonight between 9:45 and 9:53PM local time. Neither of us has weather data, so we can’t tell you the likelihood of an actual launch. Also, NASA doesn’t do it that way, even though this calculation is simpler. They prefer to place anything destined for the ISS into low earth orbit, roughly a hundred or so miles above the surface, and then use a secondary engine burn to change the new satellite’s speed and move it to the higher orbit. I believe part of that has something to do with dodging all the junk orbiting between those altitudes. Jerry’s calculations would put the mass at the proper altitude in about thirty minutes. NASA tends to take a few hours to do that more slowly. It uses a smaller energy budget and is more efficient.

The teacher shook his head. You did that calculation in your head?

Kelvin nodded. Yes, Sir. It required several formulas.

Yes, it did, the teacher agreed with a sigh. Kelvin is also correct, he told the class. Then, he turned to the principal.

What may I do for you, Mr. Woodley? he asked hopefully.

Mr. Woodley chuckled. "Actually, I suspect I can do something for you, he said. May I have Jerry and Kelvin? They won’t be back today."

Certainly, Mr. Woodley, their teacher agreed so quickly the rest of the class snickered.

Jerry and Kelvin returned to their seats and gathered their things. As they walked from the room with the principal, they heard their teacher continue the lesson.

Jerry and Kelvin gave us something more advanced than what I had planned, but it’s a great real-world example. Let’s build on this problem. Instead of going to orbit, let’s move something on the ground. What would you have to do to…

The door closed behind them.

Orbital mechanics? Mr. Woodley asked with a sigh. Depending on the school, that could be high school math and physics, but it’s more likely you’d find it at college level. You’re showing off…again.

No, Sir, Kelvin responded respectfully.

We weren’t showing off, Jerry confirmed. We read stuff like that to keep our minds occupied and us out of trouble.

Actually, today we only wanted a way to liven up class, Kelvin told him. I’m sure he can take that example and turn it into the very un-pretty real-world example of what happens if you make a mistake while driving a car at high speed.

Mr. Woodley nodded. He probably can, he agreed.

What’s called us out of class, Sir? Jerry asked.

Your father is here to pick up both of you, Mr. Woodley answered Jerry. He said something about an appointment.

Oh, the boys chorused. We forgot about that, Kelvin added. Both boys were grateful Mr. Woodley couldn’t watch their auras because the wavering colors would reveal the lie they’d just told.

We don’t have an appointment, Jerry sent to his brother. Something’s up.

Yeah, Kelvin agreed silently. They wouldn’t pull us out otherwise.

We’ll find out what it is soon enough, Jerry observed.

True, Kelvin agreed, and the pair stopped sending telepathy.

Collect what you need from your lockers and meet me in the office, Mr. Woodley told them. I’ll do the paperwork with your father.

Yes, Sir, the pair agreed, turning toward their lockers while Mr. Woodley continued toward the office.

The boys heard Mr. Woodley and Jerry’s dad talking well before they reached the office door.

"…were explaining why NASA uses Earth’s gravity to assist launches when I entered the room. Their science teacher was looking at the pair of them with an expression like ‘what booby left the pair of you in my nest’?"

Mr. Saunders laughed as they entered.

Ah, there you are! Mr. Woodley noted. You’re all checked out. See you tomorrow.

Thanks, Mr. Woodley, the boys chorused and followed Jerry’s dad toward the parking lot. Mr. Saunders looked the pair of them up and down as they walked.

Isn’t school difficult enough? he finally asked as they neared the car.

There are some things we learn here that we can’t get anywhere else, Kelvin told him in a serious tone.

But we learn much more with the other tools we use, Jerry finished, careful to keep his wording to something that wouldn’t make anyone else pay attention if they were overheard.

Try to be more serious, please.

That’s the problem, Dad, Jerry agreed. "At times, things are just too serious, so we…liven them up."

Mr. Saunders snorted as he unlocked the car. He knew he wouldn’t win the argument; he just didn’t want to appear to give up, either. Try to let me keep my sanity, okay?

Jerry grinned as the boys climbed into the back seat from either side of the car. Sure Dad, he agreed cheerfully.

What’s this ‘appointment’ we have? Kelvin asked as they closed the doors and Mr. Saunders turned the ignition. He dodged the question.

Has Spring Fever bitten the pair of you?

Probably, Jerry admitted. It’s late April, and school ends when we run out of May.

Try not to let it get out of hand, okay, guys?

They looked at each other, and exhaled sharply. Okay, they said together.

The appointment? Kelvin prodded again.

Darid called earlier, Mr. Saunders said as they drove through town on the way to the farm where Kelvin lived next door to Jerry. He wants to talk to you two.

That’s exciting! Jerry exclaimed.

Don’t get your hopes up, Mr. Saunders cautioned. "He said something about having a safe job for you and a fun task to go with it once school finishes here."

They traded a quick glance. I suppose we’ll have to see what he’s offering, Kelvin allowed. "If it’s good enough, I guess we can wait that long." His long-suffering tone made Mr. Saunders laugh so hard he almost drove into the opposite lane.

Mr. Saunders dropped the boys at the farm gate so he could return to work in town; as the franchise owner and manager of a store, he could occasionally slip away like he had today, but couldn’t be away long. As he drove away, the boys headed for the bright red barn while ignoring the farmhouse where Kelvin and his family lived. Kelvin’s father, Shea Merritt, wore several important hats. He was the leader of the Carisian Pre-Contact team on Earth. He was also captain of the starship that carried them between Earth and Caris—as well as the training officer for Kelvin and Jerry as they matured and their psionic abilities expanded exponentially.

The boys closed the barn door behind them. Jerry lifted a manger box lid near the door, Kelvin extracted a remote control, and the pair strode to a hardly noticeable square in the barn’s flooring. Once they were clearly inside its boundaries, Kelvin pressed a key on the remote and the floor slid downward, carrying them with it.

At the shaft’s base, the boys arrived in a large chamber comfortably filled with machinery. Computers and other intelligence-gathering equipment brought by the Carisian pre-contact team surrounded them. Jerry smiled; he was the only person from Earth in the room now—and his parents were the only other Earth people who knew this room existed!

The boys saw a familiar man, one of Startreader’s engineers, seated at the main console. Hello, Mr. Odd, they greeted him. It’s good to see you again, Jerry added.

Hi, boys, Odd returned warmly. I brought the part the captain asked me to fabricate for the main shuttle. We’ve spent the day removing the broken one and replacing it.

Where is he? Kelvin asked.

Testing the system to make sure we fixed it.

Just then, Kelvin’s dad came through the door from the adjoining underground hangar. He held an oddly-shaped mechanism in his hands. It had several places on its exterior that clearly showed burns and pitting from a malfunction of some kind. It works perfectly, he reported as he placed the ruined unit on the desk. This one’s totally gone. He looked at Odd’s satisfied expression. You did an outstanding job fabricating the replacement, Gomda, he praised. "I brought all kinds of spare parts for that older shuttle, but never thought this one would fail. You had to build it from scratch, and the system doesn’t even recognize the replacement as not coming from the original manufacturer. I’m glad you’re with us."

I’m pleased it works, Captain, Odd replied. "This is exactly the kind of thing that made me want to be a part of Startreader’s crew in the first place—the chance to truly fix things when they break."

Well, you and the others did a super job on short notice. Next time we leave Earth, we can take both shuttles with us.

Good, Sir, Mr. Odd agreed. Has Commander Lavi spoken with you?

Both Mr. Odd and Cmdr. Lavi were lieutenant commanders but were entitled to be called by the simple title ‘Commander’ because they were senior to the rest of the engineers. Both were also eligible for promotion another step.

He has, Shea replied. I’m very pleased to hear that the rest of the team—including him—recommends that you be named Chief Engineer. You and Mr. Lavi are practically tied for time in grade and range of experiences in your qualifications. I’d have had a very hard time deciding on my own.

I’m pleased they want me, too, Odd allowed.

I’ve promised Mr. Lavi that I’ll recommend him for promotion and give him a recommendation for higher position along with his required efficiency report when we return to Caris, Shea told them. I expect he’ll leave us then.

Probably, Odd agreed. I can recommend a pool of possible candidates who might fit into our group if you want the input, Captain.

I’d like that, Mr. Odd, Shea accepted. We want a happy family that can do everything we need it to do. We’ll probably be returning to Caris in another month or so—as soon as these guys get out of school for the summer.

That was his first acknowledgment of the boys standing beside them.

Kelvin dropped his voice as low as he could reach. You rang? he asked, stretching the words out with a slight moan.

Shea laughed. You two and old television shows! he exclaimed while shaking his head. Not I, he denied.

Old television shows? Mr. Odd asked.

Shea glanced his way. "Actually, I think you’d probably like The Addams Family," he commented. Stick around tonight and I’m sure the boys will show you some of it.

Thank you, Sir, I believe I will. I can go back up early tomorrow morning.

Shea nodded, and then returned his attention to the boys. Darid called earlier; he wants to talk with you at your convenience.

They recognized that phrase—which cleared up why Jerry’s dad pulled them from school before the day was done. They were grateful it didn’t contain the qualifier earliest. Neither of them wanted to face an emergency just now…

Mr. Odd rose from the control console. I’ll get out of your way, he told the boys. I want to examine the older shuttle some more; the captain has promised to train me to fly it. He shook his head. I’ve seen other examples of it in the past…in exhibits of retired craft, Odd admitted. I never thought I’d get to service one—much less fly on or learn to pilot it!

"When you return to Startreader, Shea told him, you’ll find all the manuals and training materials in your workspace. Start studying, Gomda. Since it’s cloaked like Orion, I’ll fly it to orbit soon so we can start hands-on training. I can’t wait to have another qualified pilot to help me. The boys know some of it, but they aren’t certified for that model shuttle."

Will do, Captain, Odd agreed as he strode toward the door into the hangar. It closed behind him, leaving them privacy for the call to the president.

When the scrambler finished synchronizing, Darid saw Shea seated at the console with Jerry standing behind his right shoulder and Kelvin behind his left.

Hello, boys, Darid greeted them cheerfully. Thanks for returning my call.

It’s our pleasure, Mr. President, Kelvin replied with courtesy.

Why so formal, Kelvin? Darid asked. I thought that went away long ago between us.

I wouldn’t want to make a slip and use your first name in public, Darid, Kelvin replied with a grin.

Our mothers would tan our hides for our rudeness, Jerry added.

Well, this is a private call…

"I should hope so, Shea added dryly, the way the thing’s encrypted and all!"

Darid laughed.

What can we do for you, Darid? Jerry asked.

First, finish school for the year, Darid replied. "Then, as soon as you can, get yourselves to Caris. I have a job…two jobs…for you."

Two? Kelvin asked, his eyes widening.

Yes, Darid told the group on Earth. The first is very serious in nature; the second will be somewhat serious, but more up your ‘fun’ alley than not.

Go on, Darid, Shea encouraged his complement.

Several years ago, you two, with the help of others, broke up a coup attempt for me. The boys nodded. "Well, the trials are now over. Those who wouldn’t plead guilty and accept punishment have faced the court and been found guilty based on the evidence. All appeals have also been completed—and the guilty verdict remains in place. Because the punishment phase for treason requires a death sentence, we have one more step mandated by our constitution."

The Final Arbiter, Shea stated.

Yes, Darid agreed. Those found guilty of treason must face a final arbiter. It is their last chance to convince someone to commute their sentences.

The final arbiter must be a private citizen who has no knowledge or experience of the actual trial, Shea explained for the boys’ benefit. Persons serving in the government, legal system, city and regional management positions or elected office of any kind, or employed by the government in any capacity are ineligible to serve.

That’s right, Darid confirmed.

Kelvin blinked. "You’re saying Dad couldn’t do it?"

Darid nodded. No, Kelvin, he cannot. He’s detached from military service but still in the military, which makes him a government employee.

What happens if you can’t select a final arbiter? Kelvin probed.

The constitution mandates Final Arbitration must take place within six months after declaration that the trials and appeals are complete. If that doesn’t happen, the sentence is automatically commuted to life in a rehabilitation facility.

I have a feeling you’re going to have a very difficult time finding someone who meets those qualifiers, Shea noted, especially since the trial was broadcast planet-wide on Caris.

Normally, I’d agree with you, Darid nodded. But this time, I think I’ve already found my Arbiter.

Oh? Shea’s eyebrows rose at his complement’s words.

Jerry and Kelvin, Darid’s eyes cut upward toward their faces, "I’d like you to serve as the Final Arbiters in this case, if you’re willing."

Shea sat up straight. They’re under age, Darid, he cautioned.

Actually, there is no age minimum, Darid told him. The constitution requires ‘a mature individual of sober mind not affiliated with the government, the judiciary, or local office with no knowledge of the trial or appeals.’ Darid’s recitation of the constitution caused Shea to nod as he, too, remembered what he’d once read. "In addition, I need someone to serve who can be considered incorruptible; there’s apparently been… pressure… applied to commute or outright vacate the sentence because of several of the guilty parties’ identities."

Oh? How many did you end up trying? Shea asked while the boys listened, shocked by the unexpected request of them.

An even dozen, Darid told them. One of the terrorists you caught, he glanced at the boys, "decided to plead guilty and avoid the trial. I think he hoped his hacking skills would get him a light sentence and future employment; it didn’t work out that way. That left eight terrorists, plus four more high profile people from the government who would have benefited from my death. Their families and associates have been the source of the…pressure."

What about all those who caused such havoc at the Pageant Pavilion? Jerry asked.

They were prosecuted under lesser charges and have been punished or are currently serving their sentences, Darid informed them.

Shea sat back and considered. Problems?

Not yet, but I think we’ll likely have some once final arbitration begins.

Shea nodded. I can see that, he agreed.

What would we have to do? Kelvin finally asked.

Read a great deal, Darid told them. You must review the summations of all court proceedings and determine if they followed all the rules. That’s a yes or no question for you, once you’ve read. You’ll have to listen to verbal presentations from anyone involved in the trial that wishes to speak concerning the sentence. Ultimately, you’ll have to decide if the sentence given to each defendant is legal and appropriate. Your only choices will be death or life confined to rehabilitation. Once you rule, sentence will be carried out, either way—without delay.

We don’t know all the rules, Jerry said.

If you agree, I’ll send materials about the process for you to read. I also have a legal mentor for you; he’s already preparing for the task. He’ll be ready by the time you get here.

The boys nodded. Give us a minute to talk about it. They stepped across the room, out of the camera’s range.

Do you think they’re mature enough for this, Shea?

Kelvin’s dad thought for a long moment while the boys talked across the room.

They’ve grown a lot over the past three years, Shea replied, working his way through his thoughts. The night before their first mission, they nearly fell apart.

I remember.

They sucked it up, pulled together, and powered through that task in magnificent style, Shea shared. All of it. The Pageant Pavilion, The Atrium afterward, and then facing the magistrate to start the whole trial and prosecution process.

Darid nodded.

They conquered the Canopus V problem and saved all of us…again. Then, last summer, they did a super job at Lalor and another one at Morea. They’ve made hard decisions, ones that cost lives, without flinching in that time. As much as I hate to admit it, he finally told his complement, "I think they are mature enough for this—if they want to do it."

Let’s hope they’re willing, Darid replied, because I have no other ideas who I could select. There just aren’t qualified candidates available.

"Can we do this?" Kelvin asked quietly.

I don’t see why not, Jerry told his complement. We had to do something similar last summer; it just wasn’t called by this name.

You mean the Oyam?

"Yeah. Ship-Commander Kroc and his antimatter torpedo. To use an Earth expression, we were judge, jury, and executioner for him…and those who stayed with him."

Yes, we were, Kelvin agreed grimly. "That was more direct than this will be, he observed. We’ll just be the final check on an already completed process."

Maybe, Jerry acknowledged, if we agree.

Should we?

I think so.

Me, too, Kelvin added, "but I’d sure like to know what the other job is!"

Jerry chuckled. Let’s find out. They moved back behind Shea.

We’ll serve, if you’ll have us, Mr. President, Kelvin said in formal acceptance, and we’d like to know what you have planned for us afterward!

I appreciate it, Darid told them. You’ll serve as Final Arbiter under your alphanumeric identifier.

"We can manage that," Jerry returned with a smile.

"Once that issue is resolved, I have a little mission for you. I’d like the pair of you to serve as the command crew for a Youth Academy training mission. Shea can familiarize you, if he wants. You’ll be serving as the command crew of the KELLAR-class training ship Galactica. You’ll have a couple of command-trainees to work with, some engineers-in-training, and a crew of a dozen other trainees in various specialties. You’ll also have a fully qualified engineer and physician to assist you. I don’t yet know where the mission will take you, but it will be no more than a month in duration. I think you’ll find it a fun and challenging diversion from what you’ve done for me in the past."

The boys’ eyes widened as he described that task. Command…of their own starship? A crew to train? They looked at each other in stunned disbelief, neither able to speak.

Darid laughed. "If I’d known you’d have that kind of reaction, I’d have offered something like this long ago!" he chortled.

Not too long ago, Shea countered. I think they can probably handle it, now, but before last summer probably not.

Kelvin and Jerry looked at each other for a moment and then nodded. Yeah, they agreed, that’s what we think, too.

Okay. I’ll send the material you’ll need, Darid promised. Shea will have it for you tomorrow afternoon.

We’ll get started, the boys promised.

Get ready to learn about the Carisian Constitution, Shea warned them as Darid waved goodbye and shut down the call. The system registered the background transmission of a large file currently in progress. School starts again as soon as you come home tomorrow.

The mind-brothers groaned in unison before heading for the lift and a way out of the chamber. They wanted a peaceful evening before they had to crack open a new subject. At least, with a little luck, they could introduce Commander Odd to the word ooky before they had to learn Carisian legalese…

3. Taking Leave

The end of the final day of school saw the eighth grade class sitting in the cafeteria. The last practice for tonight’s promotion ceremony was over; now, only fifteen minutes of the school day remained. Jerry and Kelvin sat with several of their friends, chatting to pass the time.

What are you guys going to do this summer? Kelvin asked Danny, Zach, Alex, and Jorge.

I’m working with my dad this summer, Jorge told them. He’s paying me to help out on the job sites. Jorge’s dad was a contractor who built homes.

I’m going to be a lifeguard at the town pool, Zack announced. I already started last weekend.

I’m planning on doing odd jobs around town to earn money, Alex told them. I want to put it back so I can get a car in a couple of years.

I’m taking it easy, doing chores around the house, helping my mom with the Cub Scouts when they go camping, and swimming, Danny said with a grin.

Yeah, Zach replied sourly. I’ll probably have to rescue you.

That’s likely, Jerry quipped. He nearly empties the pool when he flops every time he tries to dive!

One of these days, Danny shot back, I’ll actually learn to dive, and then you won’t be able to tease me anymore!

Jerry put his hand on Danny’s shoulder. "Actually, Dan, the day you learn, I will be very happy for you—I’ll even cheer for you. It’s a great skill and a fun way to stay in shape."

The plump boy managed a smile. Thanks, Jerry.

I’ll be happy for you, too, Kelvin said with a grin, because it will mean there’s more water in the pool for me to swim in!

The others laughed.

Cub Scouts? Alex asked, surprised.

Yeah, Danny replied. My younger brother is in the troop. Hey—those kids can be fun! I have a blast camping with them because I get to teach them how to do things.

We understand, Jerry told him. Kelvin and I have worked with younger kids before; there’s nothing that makes you feel quite as good as the thanks they give when you help them.

Danny nodded, pleased that his friends understood.

What are you guys planning this year? Zach wanted to know.

We’re traveling again this summer, Jerry told them. We’re leaving tomorrow, I think, and probably won’t be back until the end of the summer.

That’s a shame, Jorge cut in. We’ll miss having you around for fun. You two really liven up things for us!

Thanks! Jerry and Kelvin accepted with grins plastered on their faces.

Where are you going? they wanted to know.

We don’t know, the boys replied. Our parents haven’t told us. They want it to be a surprise, and we’re happy with that. Traveling for the last couple of summers has really been fun and we’ve learned a lot in all the places we’ve been.

Boy, is that an understatement! Kelvin sent to Jerry.

Yeah! Jerry replied.

Just then, the final bell rang and everyone stood.

We’ll see you at Promotion tonight, the mind-brothers promised their friends as they gathered their things and headed for the door.

Let’s walk home today, Kelvin suggested as they cleared the school’s front door.

That will take a while, Jerry noted.

Not if we take the back way, Kelvin suggested slyly.

We haven’t gone that way in three years, Jerry objected. "Our parents said not to so we won’t draw attention to what happened the first time."

"We’re not supposed to get caught, Kelvin corrected. Let’s do it, he urged. We can keep from being seen, now. I have very blurred memories of that day. I want to see what you saw."

Jerry surrendered. Come on, he agreed. They started walking down the street. Moments later, they strode down Main Street on their way to the cross street that would take them toward the road to their farms on the town’s outskirts. Jerry caught Kelvin’s eye with his as they approached Mr. James’s Drug Store and the Corner Grocery.

It all started here, Jerry murmured. We were on the way home from the swimming pool.

Yeah, Kelvin agreed. I turned green before your eyes and knocked some guy’s groceries all over the sidewalk.

Jerry nodded. Then, the chase began.

We never made it to our regular turn, did we?

No.

The boys continued down the street until they passed a house on a large lot. The house sat on the front lot but the owner held the lot behind it, too, all the way to the next street over. They stopped at the alley’s entry between lots and leaned on the fence.

Take the old route? Kelvin asked.

Their fusion scanned the area. No one was watching them. Come on, then, Jerry agreed with a grin.

They dashed down the alley to the next street, turned right, jogged another block, and then ducked down yet another alleyway. Their fusion kept vigil so their passage would go unnoticed. Halfway down, they stopped and looked across a low fence into a large backyard.

I miss the old toolshed, Jerry said sadly.

It was so rickety they had to tear it down, Kelvin agreed. "They replaced it with that." He pointed to a new small metal building in the shape of a miniature barn.

It may have been rickety, Jerry said soberly, but it saved us that day.

Yeah. It gave me time to touch your mind for the first time and teach you enough to get us home.

A moment’s memory surrounded them with light, shadows, broken boards, and musty tools in a cramped space. They blinked back to bright daylight.

Kelvin chuckled. It was so rickety that I’m surprised it didn’t fall down as we scrambled out the back wall!

Jerry laughed with him. I think the guys chasing us were just as surprised—especially when they became tangled up in all those long-handled tools!

Kelvin nodded. You turned all the sharp points away from them, too, he noted with pride. Even as they chased us, you kept them safe.

Jerry blushed, but didn’t speak. Another quick scan assured they were alone and unnoticed. Let’s go, Jerry encouraged, and led off, striding away from the lot and down an almost-hidden but well-remembered trail into the nearby trees. A memory of dancing rakes and other tools hovered in the air behind them.

The barrier was still there. The dead tree Jerry had knocked over with his thoughts and a gentle nudge of his hands was still wedged in stacked pieces between boulders and younger trees, just the way they’d fallen at Jerry’s command. The improvised fence was an effective barrier across the path. The pair scurried through the underbrush to get around the blockage and back onto the trail, which led them along a twisting route to the brink of a ravine. The town’s creek flowed swiftly through a narrow channel perhaps fifteen feet below. A pair of wooden posts remained sunk into the ground a few feet back from the edge on this side, and on the far side of the stream. No sign of the rope bridge that once stood here remained. Even the few pieces they’d discovered years before had fallen away and disappeared. The mind-brothers linked their minds into fusion and scanned the area around them. They found no one who might see.

Would you mind? Kelvin requested.

My pleasure, Jerry told him, and with a grand gesture, a row of wide planks, invisibly strung together, spanned the creek between the posts on either side. The planks glowed gold with red sparkles flashing through them, the colors of Jerry’s aura. He’d created a thought-formed bridge, just as he did three years earlier. The glowing planks formed a ruler-straight line, hanging there without visible support. Laughing, the pair strode across the insubstantial path which was invisibly supported as if an engineer had built it.

Once they reached the far side, they turned and looked back at the bridge.

When I finally learned what you did for me, Kelvin said quietly, I was very proud that you were my friend and cared so much.

I was really confused for a while, but I came to understand how much you mean to me, Jerry replied softly. I couldn’t ask for a better brother, mind-brother, or complement. I wouldn’t trade you for anything or anyone, Jerry told Kelvin seriously. Then, his face split into a grin Not even a puppy!

Gee, thanks, Kelvin accepted with a laugh.

Jerry waved behind them and the unnatural bridge disappeared. Come on, brother. It’s time we made it home.

Clapping each other on the shoulder, the pair followed the path downward from the ravine’s rim onto the farmland below…which just happened to back onto Jerry’s grandparents’ farm, where Kelvin now lived.

The boys had given their parents grief over what they would wear for the Promotion Program that night; they’d threatened to come out dressed in their Carisian Dress Uniforms — medals and all. Shea and Malcolm firmly told them No. Still, the boys were in such a whimsical mood that the adults didn’t know what to expect. They’d seen the boys polishing their uniform boots in the late afternoon…

All four of them let out sighs of relief when Jerry and Kelvin came out of Jerry’s room wearing regular suits and ties with white shirts.

You look nice, their mothers told them.

Thanks, the boys accepted. They were surprised to see Mr. Odd dressed in civilian clothing, along with Ms. Minerva, waiting with their parents. Good evening, the boys chorused.

Hi, guys, Ms. Minerva replied with a smile. Gomda came down to help your dad fly the shuttle up tomorrow. I’m ending my R&R leave and ready to go back to the ship. The other house is set up to be closed while we’re gone. We’ll shut off the power when we leave early tomorrow. The boys nodded.

Are we ready? Malcolm asked. When everyone agreed, he led the way outside for the short drive to the school.

Jerry and Kelvin were pleased that their parents as well as Mr. Odd and Ms. Minerva were with them. They walked across the stage and received their Certificates of Promotion from Eighth Grade from Mr. Woodley.

As he shook hands with each of them, providing time for a photograph or two, he quietly said, I’m going to miss you two next year. You made school more fun for me.

Thanks, Mr. Woodley, they each replied with a smile. Jerry and Kelvin both knew that, though he said similar words to everyone, he really meant it for them. They also knew he’d be watching them as they entered ninth grade next fall; he expected great things of them.

Everyone gathered in the underground hangar before dawn the next morning. There was no cargo to carry to orbit; all that required loading was personal belongings. Jerry and Kelvin each carried a duffel and clothes bag, but that was it. They wore their undress uniforms without ribbons. When Shea saw them arrive, he raised an eyebrow.

Dress and Undress Uniforms, along with all our Medal Kits, Kelvin said before he could speak.

Good. You’ll probably need them before the summer is out.

That doesn’t bode well for us, Jerry said in an aside to his brother. I’d hoped we could go one summer without earning some new decoration.

You might, Shea agreed, but we won’t know until we get there.

The rest of their group held belongings they’d either brought down from Startreader or were taking with them on the trip. The various packages were sorted and organized before loading aboard either shuttle.

Mr. Odd, Ms. Minerva, Diane, and I will take the main shuttle up, Shea announced as he opened the cargo hatch in the older model shuttle’s side. "The rest of you will go up in Orion."

The boys loaded their things, along with Jerry’s parents’ belongings, into Orion while Shea and Mr. Odd took care of loading for the main shuttle. When they finished, the pilots met between the ships while the others boarded.

Jerry and Kelvin hadn’t flown in some months, but they were still up to speed on their skills. Shea drilled them quite regularly, with STELLA’s help, to keep them sharp. They always found his training sessions…challenging…and attacked them with a will to conquer.

Shea eyed them briefly; he was confident they’d have no problems this trip. We’ll fly up separately, Shea announced. Mr. Odd and I will depart first, boys. Leave a nice break for us to clear the area before you start your trip.

Aye, Sir, Kelvin acknowledged. We’ll set things up for our return before we leave and meet you aboard ship.

Shea nodded. Do the setup in there, he gestured toward the communications room, "while I prep the shuttle for flight. Once you’re done, go to Orion and begin your preflight checks. He paused, and then added, I’d appreciate it if, on the way up, you’d touch Mr. Lavi and ask him to have Startreader ready to receive us."