Chapter 6

-Brad & Patricia-

"Well there you are," Pat said happily when she opened the door. "We were wondering when you'd show up. You're a day late and we started worrying."

"Sorry," Brad said looking embarrassed. "One of my other families was having a little problem and it took me longer than I expected. Hopefully you haven't run out of anything because of my screw-up."

"It wasn't a screw-up if you were helping someone," Pat admonished. "We have plenty; we just worried about you is all."

"Well, I appreciate that but I suppose I should have called," he replied.

"You don't have to check in with me," she laughed. "I'm not your wife or your girlfriend. Would you like some coffee? And if you have a minute there is someone who would like to say something to you."

"Ah, sure, coffee sounds great," he said. "But calling would be the considerate thing to do. I could only be so lucky to have a woman like you as a girlfriend but you know the captain's rules..."

"Of course, we must abide by the captain's rules," she agreed and smiled as she sipped her coffee. She was wearing a short summer dress that hugged her curves and had crossed her legs but was rocking the top one up and down drawing Brad's attention and driving him to distraction.

"Ah, yes, we must," he mumbled as he took a big gulp of coffee and practically spit it out as it burned his mouth.

"Like I said," she continued, "somebody has something she would like to say to you if you have time."

"Sure," he agreed welcoming the interruption.

"Charlene, come out here please," Patricia called towards the back rooms. Pretty soon a slim young girl, obviously Patricia's daughter, came out. Although still young, Brad could see she was going to be a heartbreaker just like her mom when she grew up.

"Mr. Miller is here, honey," Pat prompted. "You had something you wanted to say to him?"

"Yes, Momma," Charlene nodded seriously and then she broke into one of the biggest smiles Brad had even seen and suddenly he was being smothered by the young girl doing her best to squeeze the life out of him and threatening to topple both of them out of the chair.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she gushed into his neck.

"You're welcome," he chuckled as he gently pried her off his neck and held her arms so he could look up at her. "Although I'm not sure just what I'm being thanked for. I'm just doing my job."

"Those men," she bubbled. "The one's downstairs. The one's that were bothering me; they're gone!"

"Oh, them," Brad smiled. "Good. I'm glad they aren't bothering you anymore."

"My friends said two really big men came to talk to them last week," she informed him.

"I thought they might," Brad nodded.

"Lisa said the assholes started shouting at them and then one of the idiots pulled a knife," Charlene continued talking so rapidly Brad could hardly keep up.

"That was a mistake," Brad mused then looked sternly at the young woman. "You shouldn't use that kind of language in front of your mother," he admonished. "Or anytime, for that matter. After all you are a young lady."

"Sorry, sir," she blushed and then continued. "Lisa said one of the big guys laughed, picked him up and threw him through the window!"

"That would leave a mark," Brad muttered glancing over at the plastisteel window. Plastisteel can look like glass but it was virtually indestructible; the frame would have broken before the window did.

"The whole thing caved in," Charlene gushed in agreement. "She said the big men pushed the other ass ... guys into the apartment and there was a lot of crashing and screaming. The next day they were gone!"

"Sometimes subtlety is lost on some people," Brad said glancing over at Patricia who returned his look with an amused smile. Returning his attention to Charlene he continued, "I'm glad they won't be bothering you anymore, Charlene, and if you ever have that problem again let your mother or me know right away. Now that doesn't mean just because someone calls you a name we're going to have somebody over here to talk to them. You're getting to be an adult now and I leave it up to your judgment as to whether or not you really need help."

"I know that, sir," she said standing upright trying to look as grown up as possible.

"I know you do, Charlene," he chuckled. "And you don't have to call me sir. I work for a living."

"Mr. Miller will do just fine," Patricia told her daughter reaching out cut off his protest by patting his hand. Realizing this was a family matter he choked back what he was going to say as she squeezed his hand in thanks. "You did very well, Charlene. You can go finish you homework now or does Mr. Miller need to talk to you about that?"

"No, Momma. I'm almost finished; although if he wants I can show it to him," she added coyly.

"Not now, dear," Patricia said shooing her daughter off. "I'd like to talk to Mr. Miller privately for a few minutes."

"Sure, Momma," Charlene answered raising her eyebrows expectantly. "Again, thanks, Mr. Miller." With a skip and only one backwards glance she left them.

"Looks like you've made a conquest there," Patricia laughed. She'd almost slipped and said "another conquest."

"I didn't do anything," Brad protested. "But I'll pass along her thanks to Sam and Stan. I'm pretty sure they're the ones who came by for the little talk."

"Please do that, from all of us," she said peering at him over her coffee cup as she took another sip. "And if they're in the neighborhood sometime ask them to stop by. We'd like to thank them in person."

"I'll pass that along," he promised. "But neither one of them is particularly big on personal thanks. Besides, they'd probably thank you for giving them a chance to have some fun."

"Be that as it may," she said waving it off, "you were the one who made it happen and don't you dare try to say you had nothing to do with it," she continued, cutting off his protest. "But what I really wanted to ask is how can I help? I mean all of us, the girls and me."

"We don't need you to do anything," Brad replied uncomfortably. "I'm not really sure if we're set up yet to accept too much help, although thank you for offering."

"I know that," she said. "I've been down to the VBS a couple of times already. They seem to have more help down there than they know what to do with. Maybe you need some help making deliveries to your other families? I'd like to meet them." And size up my competition, she added silently.

"Well, I'd have to ask them," he said finally. "Privacy is pretty important to us, you know. Some people don't like having other people know they need help and I respect that."

"Of course you do," she answered quickly. "And so should you; but if they're interested and agreeable I know I'd like to meet them. Also you can tell anybody you want anything about us you want; I trust you."

"Okay, I will," he grinned.

"Good. We wouldn't want it to seem like you're trying to keep all your women away from each other, now would it?" she teased.

"It's nothing like that," he protested. "Shoot, I wouldn't be telling anything if I said two of them aren't widows; they're widowers. Women with families gave their lives the same as men did. I'm sorry, Patricia. I didn't mean to bring that up."

"It's all right, Brad," she smiled. It's been eight years. I still miss him but I know I have to move on with my life and you've given me that chance."

"The VBS is giving you that chance," he corrected gently. "But it's no more than you deserve."

"Of course," she agreed still peering over her cup at him. "The VBS."

-Daniel-

I spent the next hour or so trying to find Sumalee without success. The first place I looked was the ship's sickbay but all four girls had been there and left with the exception of the one with the twisted ankle. Naturally, the resident quack wouldn't give me shit about Sumalee's condition but luckily Jeena had no such silly compulsion to be overly ethical and told me Sumalee and the other two were fine and already released although she didn't know where she had gone.

Next I tried the crew quarters but there were two problems with that: first, I didn't know where her cabin was and second, nobody was letting me in there without me causing some major damage. Since I wasn't about to bust a crew member up for doing his job and keeping me out of somewhere I wasn't suppose to be I did the next best thing and called Weird.

"Weird, you think you could find out which cabin is Sumalee Nakpredith's?" I asked through Sara.

"Yes, Captain," he answered tolerantly. "It's cabin N256, but have you tried to call her through the ships ID yet?" Shit, how did he guess I hadn't even thought of that?

"Ah, no." Not for the first time I wondered if "sheepishly" came through over the net.

"Then might I suggest you try that first?"

"Mmm, I suppose that would be one idea," I answered. "Right. Mayhem, out."

"Xanadu?" I tried tentatively as I raised my arm and spoke into the ID strip.

"How may I help you, Mr. Mayhem?" came the immediate response.

"Ah, should I call you, Xanadu or Olivia?"

"I will answer to either, Mr. Mayhem," the ship answered. "Of course I am part of the ship but I will also answer to the designation Mr. Willis has given me."

"Which do you prefer?" There was a slight hesitation which at AI speeds was akin to hours for us protoplasm types.

"Olivia, Mr. Mayhem," came the answer at last.

"Then I will call you Olivia," I said and shook my head. "But only if you will call me Dan or Daniel."

"Very well, Daniel," she answered. You can say anything you want about it still being only a machine but the voice sounded pleased to me. "Of what service may I be this evening?"

"I'd like to contact a crew member, Sumalee Nakpradith. Can you put me in touch with her?"

"Crewmember Nakpradith is scheduled for duty presently," she answered. "It is against ships policy for crewmembers to contact passengers outside their assigned duties during their scheduled work periods. I am sorry for the inconvenience."

"I'm pretty sure she's not on duty now," I pushed.

"I am sorry, Daniel," came the soft reply. "The duty roster indicates she is scheduled for duty at this time and that has not been modified. May I forward a message to her for you? That would not violate ship's policy."

"Ah, sure," I said. I wasn't about to argue with an AI. Okay, so I've done it a few times with Sara but that's different. "Just tell her I'd like to hear from her and make sure she's okay."

"Your message will be delivered as soon as possible, Daniel," Olivia said immediately. "Will there be anything else?"

"Ah, no, I don't suppose so." I guessed if Sumalee wanted to contact me she would and if she didn't then she didn't need some bozo following her around and bothering her all the time. Besides, after having time to cool down after all the excitement she may not be all that fired up about spending time with a man she had just witnessed killing another one. Not everybody has positive reactions to seeing bodies lying around on tables with knives sticking out of their chests. "Thanks."

"You are welcome, Daniel, and have a pleasant evening." With that I decided to head back up to my cabin and change before I set out to hunt some grub.

I'm not saying I was actually feeling sorry for myself; after all I'd only met the girl twice. The first time I was only another passenger and the second ... Well, I'm not going to say it was as a cold-blooded killer; he was shooting at me after all. That should count for something. Then there was the whole thing about her being only a couple of years older than my daughter which for some reason didn't seem bother me quite as much anymore as it did just a few months ago. But maybe that's just an old man trying to convince himself he wasn't too old for the girl and not the lady being too young for him.

Whatever, the fact was she would undoubtedly be much better off if she never saw me again. I think I tried to convince myself I would be better off too but I'm not good enough at lying to myself to make that sound even remotely plausible. But it is what it is, as they say, and I figured even if Mike and Brian were already off, I could at least drag Weird away from his electronic lover long enough for a bite to eat.

The door sensed the proximity of my ID band and opened for me and I stepped in expecting the lights to come on automatically as normal; they didn't. It wasn't dark though. In fact there was plenty of light coming from the fifteen or twenty candles scattered around the room and standing in the center of that flickering glow was Sumalee. At least I think it was Sumalee. Either that or someone had snuck a life-sized doll into my room. She stood there still as a statue in one of the most beautiful dresses I think I have ever seen. Oyster pearl in color, it covered her from just below her shoulders and hugged every curve right down to the knees where it flared out slightly forming a fan down to her ankles. One shoulder was bare while the other had some kind of sash pinned and flowing back over and down almost to the deck. It was beaded — accented really — with what my untrained eyes could have sworn were actually tiny pearls. It was simply gorgeous. The only thing prettier than that dress was the girl inside it. Her hair was done up on the top of her head in one of those intricate hairdos only women or hairdressers seem able to accomplish leaving her neck bare except for a small string of pearls looking more like a choker than a necklace. She stood there looking at me with those huge dark eyes and just the hint of a nervous smile.

"Sumalee," I finally gasped. "You're okay?" Ever the suave and sophisticated one, that's me. At least I did try to salvage the moment a little. "You look absolutely beautiful!"

"Thank you," she replied softly. The smile remained but the nervousness seemed to disappear. "I wanted to thank you for saving my life today so I thought I would prepare dinner for you if that is acceptable." I'd been spending so much time staring at her I hadn't noticed there was a low table set up with two large pillows and it was covered with a multiplicity of small porcelain bowls.

"Ah, that would be wonderful," I finally forced out. "But you didn't have to go to this trouble; I wanted to take you out for dinner anyway."

"This is a tradition with my people," she said walking — no, gliding — slowly towards me. "But if you would rather go out..."

"Absolutely not!" I exclaimed. "This is wonderful. But how could you possibly have had the time to do all this? By the way, how did you get it into my room?"

"I am ship's crew," she said as she approached. "I can go anywhere I need to to service a passenger. I must admit I did not cook the meal. I can cook but I did not have the time tonight. I hope it will be satisfactory."

"Sumalee," I answered truthfully, "as long as you are with me looking like this, I could be eating sand and think it's caviar."

"I think we can do a little better than sand, Daniel," her smile widening slightly as she came to a stop about half a meter in front of me. She reached up and caressed the front of my shirt as if smoothing wrinkles. "But I think you will need a nice bath before dinner, do you not agree?"

"Ah, sure. I'll step into the 'fresher and be right out," I gulped. The slight caress of her small, soft hand was doing nasty things to my male libido. If I didn't get into the 'fresher quick I was going to embarrass her rather pointedly.

"I've taken the liberty of laying out your dinner attire, if that is acceptable," she said as she tugged on my shirt pulling and then pushing me gently towards the bathroom. "It would please me if you would wear our traditional dress."

"Yeah, sure. I'll be right out."

I stumbled into the bathroom doing my damnedest not to be rude and stare at her as I did. I closed the door and noticed there was a pile of neatly folded clothing on the vanity next to the sink. Rubbing my chin I felt the first hint of stubble so I dabbed on some depilatory and brushed my teeth before stepping into the 'fresher. I set it for cold since I was already much too heated up. I had no idea where this was all leading, but I have to admit I sure hoped it was going to be more than just dinner and conversation. Not that I expected it or anything; but a guy can hope, can't he? I mean if I wasn't at least thinking about it, I'd be a eunuch or something, right?