The first thing Creek and Robin did was sleep. They found their way to their cabin, an economy job on one of the lower decks, by the engine and the crew quarters, and squeezed their way through the door. They collapsed onto their respective single bunks and were out, dreamless, for 12 hours.
The second thing they did was shop. Fixer had graciously provided Creek with a sweatshirt to swap out for his torn and bloody shirt (although not so graciously that he didn't charge Creek a ridiculous amount for it) and gave Robin her promised hat for free, but aside from that the two of them had as their possessions only their fake passports and what they had on their bodies. The Neverland was not one of the high-end cruise liners—it belonged to the Haysbert-American cruise line, which specialized in economy package tours for large groups—but it featured a reasonably nice clothes store on the Galaxy Deck. Robin picked out clothes and shoes for the both of them while Creek made inane conversation with the clerk, describing how their luggage had somehow been routed to Bermuda.
The third thing Robin did was get her hair done. The third thing Creek did was get a massage. Both of them winced through their respective procedures but were pleased with the results. The fourth thing they did was sleep some more, waking up ravenous and just in time for the evening's assigned-seat dinner. They found their seat assignment slipped under the door table 17.
"It says that dress is semi-formal—military dress uniforms preferred," Robin said, reading the assignment.
"I'm afraid we're going to disappoint them," Creek said. "At least I got you a nice suit jacket and tie," Robin said. "Incidentally, don't get used to me shopping for you. This is a once in a lifetime deal. I hope you don't mind me saying I plan never to go into a mall with you again."
"Understood," Creek said. "I hope you don't mind me saying I share the sentiment."
"Good to have that out of the way, then," Robin said, then looked at the invitation again. "But you have a dress uniform, right? Back at home? You're a veteran."
"I am," Creek said. "I do. But I don't think I've put it on since I got out."
Robin smiled and waved airily, signifying the cruise. "You mean you've never done one of these before? Or even just a parade on Veteran's Day?"
"I'm not much for a parade," Creek said.
"I'm getting that from you," Robin said. "That whole loner" vibe."
"It's not that," Creek said. "Well, it is. But it's also that the best thing about my military service is that it's over. I put away the uniform because I was done with it."
"Are you going to be okay with this cruise?" Robin asked. "Because I get the feeling the rest of these guys aren't done with it yet. It's kind of why they're here."
"I'll be fine," Creek said. "I'm a loner by inclination but it doesn't mean I can't fake sociability."
"There's my trooper," Robin said. "I bet you're going to be the only guy there not in uniform, though. Just you wait and see."
"What, no uniform?" asked the bald man at table 17, as Creek and Robin took their seats.
"Our luggage got sent to Bermuda," Creek said, sitting.
"Boy, if I had a dollar for every time I heard that excuse," the bald man said, and held out his hand. "Chuck Grade, and this is my wife Evelyn."
"Hiroki Toshima," Creek said, taking it.
"Come again?" Gracie said.
"Adopted," Creek said.
"Ah," Gracie said.
"And this is my fiancee, Debbie," Creek said, pointing to Robin.
"Well! Congratulations to you two," Evelyn Gracie said.
"Thanks," Robin said. "It was quite sudden."
"Well, you'll have to tell us all about it," Evelyn said. "I love a good engagement story."
"We met in a mall," Robin said, deadpan. "We ran into each other. There were parcels everywhere."
Before she could go on two other couples arrived and introduced themselves: James Grower and his wife Jackie, and Ned and Denice Leff. As handshakes were offered all around, one final couple arrived: Chris Lopez and her companion Eric Woods. This precipitated another wave of handshakes and Creek explaining that he was adopted. A waiter came by and filled wine glasses.
"Now that we're all here," Grade said, "are there any officers at the table?" Everyone shook their heads. "Good!" Grade said. "Then this is a salute-free zone. I say we get drunk and eat like pigs through the entire cruise."
Next to Grade, Evelyn rolled her eyes and smacked her husband on the arm. "Settle down, Chuck," she said. "This is your commanding officer speaking."
"Yes, ma'am," Grade said, and grinned at his tablemates. "You can see who's in charge here."
"I hear the captain of the Neverland is a veteran of Pajmhi," Chris Lopez said. "Does anyone know if that's true?"
"I can answer that," Ned Leff said. "It's true. He was a Marine lander jockey there. It's one of the reasons we picked the Neverland for this cruise."
"That and it's cheap," Grade said.
"That doesn't hurt," Leff admitted. "But there were cheaper. I was on the steering committee for this cruise. Captain Lehane came to us and made the pitch for his ship. It sealed the deal. He was a hell of a pilot at Pajmhi, you know. His lander took a direct hit and he still managed to get it and his squad back to their ship."
"And now he's ferrying around tourists," James Crower said.
"Nothing wrong with that," Lopez said. "He did his tour like all of us."
"I'm not criticizing," Crower said. "Hell, I'm envious. I was a hopper jockey myself. Now I sell carpet. I'd trade."
"I'm in the market for carpet," Grade said.
"Then this is a lucky a day for one of us," Crower said.
"Speak of the devil," Leff said, and pointed toward the front of the room. "It looks like Captain Lehane is going to say something."
Creek craned his head and saw a youngish man in a white dress uniform—the uniform of the Haysbert-American line—standing and banging a fork lightly against a wine goblet. The room, full of chatter, settled down quickly.
"Fellow veterans," Lehane said. "Soldiers, marines, midshipmen, and yes, even officers"—this got a laugh—"I welcome you to the Neverland." This line brought applause; Lehane smiled and let it go on for a few seconds and then held up his hand to settle it back down.
"All of us are here for a reason," he said.
"To drink!" someone yelled from the back. The crowd roared.
Lehane smiled again. "All right, two reasons. The other reason is to honor our friends and comrades who fell on the field at Pajmhi. More than a decade has passed since we—some of us barely out of high school—fought and died in the largest commitment of human armed forces since our planet joined the Common Confederation. In that time, many things have been said about the Battle of Pajmhi. Many things have been said against it. But not once has anyone doubted the courage of the men and women who fought and died there. We above all people know this truth, and of the brotherhood and sisterhood formed between us in that fight, that exists now among those of us who lived, and that calls us to remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice for their planet and their fellow soldier." He raised his goblet. "To our brothers and sisters."
"To our brothers and sisters," came back to him from every table. Everyone drank.
"As you know," Lehane continued, "Chagfun is a special port of call for this journey of the Neverland, and we have arranged for a memorial ceremony on the plain of Pajmhi. I hope to see each of you there. Before and after that, of course, you'll be able to enjoy yourselves at all our usual ports of call, and with the Neverland's onboard activities. Because as my friend at the back of the room noted, while we remember our compatriots, there's nothing wrong with having fun as well. So for the crew of the Neverland, again, welcome, and enjoy yourselves. Thank you." He sat at his table to applause. Waiters came out from the sides of the room to begin delivering salads.