Chapter Text
There were a lot of things Rod Allbright only put together years later.
Admittedly, he'd grown up pretty quickly there for a while, what with the being press-ganged into an intergalactic police force, and being crammed full of mental and martial arts training in a short space of time, not to mention saving the universe -- yeah. In short, seventh grade had held no terrors for Rod.
But during those weeks with the crew of the Ferkel he'd almost always been living at his maximum rate. Later, as he settled back down to suburbia, he was surprised to find that instead of forgetting details from his adventures, he began to remember more things, things he hadn't had time to dwell on. No doubt Snout's training helped, but since he still had read no farther than the first chapter -- "Stay calm" -- in Secrets of the Mental Masters, he had no confidence that his improved retention would continue indefinitely. He wrote everything down. Seymour added his observations, from time to time.
It wasn't until high school that he realized that a lot of moments that had been inexplicable as he lived them--Grakker shedding tears over Snout after the disastrous training transfer, Snout's license to criticize or even tease the captain without even a retort--had a simple explanation. The shared room he'd never seen; the mental bond. Rod was just glad he'd never asked any stupid questions about it.
Doing his homework in front of CNN, two pundits arguing fiercely about gay marriage and family values, Rod felt the profound squirm of inadequacy he was used to feeling by now when contemplating his modern human heritage. He could hear Madame Pong now: "Earth's reluctance to allow marriage rights to all its citizens is another perplexing aspect of its culture, and one certain to keep it from admission to the League of Worlds..." She wouldn't want to make him feel like shit about it; it was just the obvious reaction.
It made sense, he admitted. After all, one of his shipmates had been a plant. If sentient plants existed on Earth, and if for some reason they wanted to marry the meat population -- Rod grinned, thinking of Phil's distaste -- it would tend to normalize any relationships between two humans, even if they were of the same sex.
--
Rod was twenty-one when he left Earth. He'd wanted to activate Madame Pong's ring many, many times before that. The first time was in eighth grade when Rod was getting picked on by yet another school bully. After a couple token attempts to walk away, Rod used what the Tar had taught him and took the bastard apart. When he saw the crying boy on the ground in front of him, bleeding, he remembered that not all bullies are alien supervillains.
Mr. and Mrs. Allbright were called in. The supervising teachers who witnessed the event knew that Rod hadn't started it, but were alarmed by his almost supernatural calm. No one said it, but Rod was reasonably sure they thought he was a sociopath, and when they got home he went crazy, threw things, started yelling about not belonging on Earth and how he was calling the aliens immediately.
Jean told Art, who was still unused to crises in parenting, to take the twins out for ice cream. She didn't match Rod volume for volume, or argue, but she watched him rage and eventually held him until he calmed down. Later she made him promise that he wouldn't contact the Ferkel until they both agreed it was for the best. Rod said he wouldn't, and he didn't want to lie to his mother. He had just about learned to lie to evil masterminds when the fate of a loved one was at stake, but his mother was another story. In any case, he wasn't ready to abandon his mother in the night. His father was home for good now, but that couldn't erase the memories of Jean's pain.
Every couple of years, maybe less, something would happen to make Rod sit Jean down and make his case for joining the Galactic Patrol. But Jean was firm about going to college. "You don't want to get on that spaceship and be an ignoramus," she said. "It was fine when you were a kid, but when you go back I want my Rod to be on an equal footing with all those captains and mental men and tars." Art didn't really agree, having a more realistic idea than Jean of what one of Earth's college educations might actually be worth to the GP, but he was also not anxious to lose his son to a lengthy mission, not yet.
In the end, Rod studied physics at the University of Syracuse for three years. He stayed at home, partly because Seymour and Edgar might stick out in a dormitory setting, but also so Art could continue to train him, as he had ever since the end of the BKR adventure, in the mental arts. Rod wasn't really sure he wanted to be a Mental Master -- the Ferkel already had one, after all, and Snout wasn't ever going to be replaceable on a ship Grakker was the captain of -- but it was his father's passion, and it was useful stuff. The day he was finally able to pull off a temporal disruption was one of the finest of his life, not least because he made it to class on time.
The plan was to resume active duty after graduation. But circumstances intervened.
The summer before Rod's senior year, he was tramping around Seldom Seen with Bonehead (now an elderly dog, but still cheerful), Edgar, and Seymour when he heard a voice in his head.
Rod? Rod, can you hear me?
Rod's entire body tensed, and his face split into the widest smile it had on offer. Oh no! he thought. The hallucinations are back. What will Dr. Brown say? I thought I was better, I want to be better!
Wait until I tell everyone you're pursuing a career as the worst actor in the known galaxy, Snout thought drily.
Rod ignored Seymour's mental cackles and focused on thinking, with all the warmth he could muster, It's good to hear you again, old friend.
And you, Rod, Snout answered. There were many times I was tempted to resume contact, you know, but we thought it would be best to let you forget about us if you decided you preferred civilian life.
Seymour, who was feeling left out, jumped in. Don't worry, Snout. Uncle Rod is still completely unequipped to handle normal life.
What Seymour means, Rod added, is that I was planning on contacting you next summer after finishing college. I do want to come back.
I'm glad to hear it. A...situation has arisen here. Rod, would you have any objection to joining us early? I would not ask if it were not a matter of profound importance.
Of course. Of course! Come get me now! What is it? Rod demanded. Is everyone all right? How soon can you get here?
Seymour interjected: Is this one of those end-of-the-universe things again? I knew I should have transferred my bond to Little Thing One.
Snout said, It will take us a little over three days to arrive. As for the situation, it will be best to explain in person. It is a delicate matter. He paused. I won't forget this, Rod. Suddenly Rod felt the warmth of Snout's presence slide from his brain, as if someone had opened the drain. As he left, Rod felt the edges of Snout's anxiety, fresh and prickling. He went back to the house to tell his parents.
--
Elspeth was roused out of the sleep of the righteous by the sound of her phone singing, "I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me, pa-pa, paparazzi..."
She squinched up her face and answered it without looking at the screen. "Hello?"
"It's one in the afternoon, don't tell me I woke you up."
"Roddie, just because some of us are spending our college years with mommy and daddy doesn't mean the rest of us have to go to bed at nine."
Elspeth had just finished her freshman year at Bryn Mawr and it agreed with her. There was something reassuring and noncompetitive about a bunch of women living in close quarters without men around making them act all crazy. She had friends; she played rugby. She studied international relations; she thought she might pull a Madame Pong and work for the State Department one day. She was taking summer classes because she couldn't bear being under her mother's roof for a whole three months. In high school she had always stuck with tradition and stayed with Aunt Jean and Uncle Art.
Rod said, "I keep forgetting how you girls like to party."
"Women. Not girls. What's up?"
Pause. "I heard from Snout."
Elspeth sat up and ignored the lurch her dorm room gave in silent protest. "Well, it's about time! I knew that mental bond crap didn't just lapse. Jesus, how are they?"
"It wasn't a very long conversation. I think something's wrong. They're coming for me."
She sat in her bed, fingers twisting the comforter, waiting to be able to speak. She cleared her throat. "Fuck! That's great, Rod. It's totally time. Oh God, I'm so jealous of you!"
"I think it sucks you can't come. We still have to change that law."
She laughed; it felt like crying. "Oh man, growing up. If I was still an awful little shit I could just sneak on board, hide in your closet again. Not sure I'd get away with it now. They'd jettison me for sure." Rod chuckles.
A silence hung between them, for a second, full of the things they couldn't say. Then Rod said, "I wanted to see if you could come see me off. Or if you had any messages for them."
Elspeth said, "I'm not -- how long do you have?"
"Three days. More like two and a half, now."
Elspeth wasn't sure she could handle seeing the aliens. In her personal mythology, they were the turning point, the first ones to actually accept her and expect more from her than the usual histrionics and bullshit. Elspeth had fought through it all and had become a person. She was proud of it. She wasn't sure, of course, whether her improvement would be as noticeable to the aliens. It would hurt if it wasn't. It was easier to be around people who didn't know her back then, women who just knew she was capable and witty and able to take a hit on the field.
"You can think about it," Rod said. Roddie was still a prince. She'd needed him a lot when they came back to Earth; he'd gotten it. It had taken her a while to realize that he'd needed her too.
"I will," she said. "I'll call you later. I have to hurry if I want to use my lunch swipe. Oh, and hi, Seymour."
She could feel Rod smile. "He says hi and goodbye. Have a good afternoon, cousin."
--
Jean wanted to pack things, fold shirts, form slabs of cardboard into boxes. There was no need, as usual. She liked having Rod live at home, but she'd been robbed of the opportunity to send him off into the world that time, possessions at his back in a reassuring bulk, prepared for any weather, any situation.
Now he was flying off again, and as usual he'd only take the book and the ring. She flipped, once again, to the first chapter of Secrets of the Mental Masters. Stay calm.
She was calm. She'd had ten years now to come to terms with her accidental slide into a less-than-ordinary life. (Art being back made a difference. All the difference.) And after what she'd seen, it would be stupid to think Rod couldn't handle himself.
She snapped Snout's book shut and opened another, a blank photo album she found in the den, and started methodically transferring photos of her and Art and Linda and Eric and Bonehead into it. He could handle one more possession.
--
Madame Pong usually spent little time on the bridge of the Ferkel. Her considerable skills weren't technical ones and, among all the crew, her relationship with Phil was probably the most professional, the least inclined to bouts of chit-chat. But she found herself there as Phil navigated the ship towards Earth, peering through the viewscreen at the lovely blue-and-white of her pet planet.
Earth was a hobby of hers, and she'd kept up with the last ten years of history and culture. Plenty of tragedy, and no marked improvement in their entertainment, she'd noted to her sorrow. Still. An African-American president was nice to hear about. A slightly larger drop in the bucket, one felt.
"Excited?" Phil burped as he wrapped a tendril around a lever and tugged down.
Madame Pong smiled slightly, smoothing her lavender shift over her hips. "I am. Time will not have stood still for the Allbrights, and I'm anxious to see how they've changed."
"You don't think Little Thing Two still eats paste?"
Madame Pong took too much time deciding whether a chuckle would be appropriate at that remark before the moment passed. "Okay, here we go," Phil said. They were entering the atmosphere.
"ETA, Phil?"
"I'd say twenty minutes if we don't get attacked by a hawk on the way," he burped.
"I'd better prepare," she said.
Preparing meant finding Grakker; she found him in the exercise room, bench pressing without a spotter, she noted with a trace of annoyance. She stood in his eyeline, and he grunted in acknowledgement of her presence. She had to admit it: she did miss, a little bit, the early days when he'd treated her with cold formality. Politeness didn't come easily to the captain but he was certainly capable of it. Now they knew each other too well and she got grunted at like a farmhand.
"Good afternoon, Captain," she said anyway. He grunted again. "Phil believes we will arrive at Seldom Seen in twenty minutes."
Grakker replaced the weight on the rack and sat up, huffing a bit. "Is the crew set for language implants?"
"Yes, Captain, updated for slang, though I couldn't obtain data on speech patterns later than 2007. We will have to live with being slightly unfashionable." The side of his mouth quirked up a bit at that. "As for your personal module..."
"Ah, yes." Grakker toweled at his face, digging into the deep furrows in his green brow. "What do you recommend, Madame Pong?"
She held her breath. "Jovial module, sir?"
The captain wrinkled his face at her. "You know my feelings on the matter, Madame Pong. My least favorite modules are the ones that take me farthest from myself."
Yes, she thought. That's why berserk is your favorite.
She stifled a tiny sigh and said instead, "I expect we can make do with diplomatic, Captain."
"I expect so." He rose and let her withdraw his recreational module and insert the new one. "I'm going to change, madame. Alert the rest of the crew to our ETA. I will inform Snout." They went their separate ways.
--
The good ship Ferkel touched down lightly in Seldom Seen. It would have been dwarfed by the humans that stood waiting for it, had they rushed forward as they all wanted to. Rod had told them the aliens would no doubt prefer to enlarge the ship before exiting, and he was keeping his family at a safe distance.
He stole a glance at Elspeth, who had turned up early that morning just in time for Jean's waffles. Her dirt-blonde hair was cut short around her face, somewhat asymmetrically; that was new. She wore a white tank top, jeans and a complicated facial expression.
I'm not sure I would have come, Seymour thought.
Really? How could you miss the opportunity to see them again? Rod thought back.
Seems like a lot of self-torture to me, coming here to emo-gaze at what you can't have. Probably if I was Elspeth, I'd pretend I'd had an overactive imagination as a kid and say there's no such thing as aliens, thought Seymour.
Bit rich coming from an alien, Rod replied.
Agreed.
The ship seemed to shudder, and then it grew, filling the clearing. Rod couldn't help but notice that it looked a little smaller now than it had when he was eleven.
Elspeth exhaled: "Oh, fuck." Rod took her hand and tried to smile in an encouraging manner. They walked forward together, and the ship's door opened. A gangway extended, and out walked Captain Grakker.
Rod felt a brief surge of annoyance at himself for being human. The captain, a monumental figure in his memories and dreams, no longer came up to just above his waist, but rather his pelvis. He squelched the desire to drop to his knees before Grakker and instead saluted. "Deputy Allbright, reporting for duty, sir."
Grakker surveyed him for a moment, critically, Rod thought, and then smiled, reached out, and took Rod's other hand. "Rod," he said.
Then things got a little crazy. The other aliens piled off the ship en masse; the twins surged forward, anxious not to be forgotten. Madame Pong immediately embraced Elspeth, who in turn promptly burst into tears. Tar Gibbons stretched his neck up to put his head affectionately on Rod's shoulder, but seemed too excited to keep it there long; he seemed in danger of spontaneous dancing, Rod observed with a dangerous amusement.
Art, who hung back, determined to not make this about him, was sought out by Phil almost immediately for shop talk. Linda monopolized Grakker, who seemed completely nonplussed by her immediate attempts to network.
"I am now two years older than my brother Rod was when he saved the universe," she informed the captain gravely, "and in addition to our bloodlines, I share many of the qualities that allowed him to do so. Namely..."
Eric smiled weakly, and wondered what module Grakker was wearing. Clearly he was chafing under it, since he seemed unable to interrupt. Jean picked up Edgar, who was in serious danger of getting underfoot. Edgar eeped cheerfully at her.
"Rod!" Madame Pong cried, finally detaching herself from a pulled-together Elspeth to put her arms around him. "Look at you. You're a fully mature being!"
He smiled down into her kind yellow face, heart full. "I know. And to think of all the responsibilities you put on me when I was just a punk kid."
"It doesn't seem to have done you any harm." She smiled at him, and he felt suddenly shy of her. Ten years was a long time, and he tried to ask her how the crew had spent them.
"Oh dear," she said. "Where to begin? A year of desk service, as a rather token punishment for our rebellion, especially since we were all highly decorated -- and BKR's trial took up quite some time -- he's in Sus-An for life. After that, various long-term missions, tracking various high-level lawbreakers. If we have nothing else to be grateful for from the BKR case, it certainly afforded us more interesting assignments than we might have expected otherwise."
"Any supervillains?"
"Oh, Rod," she said, smiling affectionately at him, "it doesn't do to mythologize criminals, make them larger than life. I'm still watching Earth television when I get a chance, and you're far too prone to that sort of thing."
"I think saying 'millions have wept' all the time might have mythologized BKR a little bit," Rod said.
"Well, BKR was..."
"A supervillain."
"If you insist, Rod." Madame Pong beamed.
Don't want to interrupt, Uncle R., said Seymour directly into Rod's mind, but where's Snout? I was hoping there'd be one person at this shindig I could talk to.
Rod spoke Seymour's thought aloud, and Grakker turned away from Linda at last in the middle of her oral resume ("...two years' experience as manager of the girls' basketball team, which entailed...") to answer. "He's coming," Grakker rumbled. "He had to -- "
Grakker was interrupted by the appearance of a long-nosed, purple-skinned being in a flowing blue cape in the doorway to the Ferkel. Rod's heart, already light, rose another few inches at the sight. He loved Snout, who had been his teacher just as the Tar had been, and he was anxious to --
Rod's thoughts were broken off as he craned his neck to see better. Something -- someone -- was following Snout off the ship.
The humans fell silent, as Snout led from the Ferkel a small being. She was clearly new to walking, and found the experience awkward. Her face was long and lizard-like, her skin purple. But while Snout's brow was smooth and serene, the child's was deeply furrowed. And sported two tiny, stubby antennae.
She approached the gangway with obvious trepidation, and Snout laughed and swept her into his arms. Rod felt Elspeth's hand on his arm, nails digging in. "Rod," she breathed. "Oh my God." But Rod didn't get it. Not until Snout brought her down the gangway and straight to him.
"Rod, it's good to see you," Snout said simply. "This is Susan."
Grakker's voice came from behind him. "Our daughter."