“I’m being silly, aren’t I?” The ship’s thrusters were still in shutdown cycle and her voice was almost lost in the receiving bay.
“No. You’re not being silly.” Javas stood behind her and put his hands on her tiny shoulders, turning her around to face him. “I understand how scared you are right now, but you needn’t be afraid of taking him by surprise.” Javas smiled, and the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes seemed to make them sparkle. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” he confessed, nodding at the shuttle, “but he was hoping you’d be here to greet him.”
Adela hugged Javas, partly for the warmth and moral support she needed right now, partly in gratitude for his admission that he’d anticipated her concern and had spoken to Eric before the transport shuttle left the starship. Was there nothing about her that he did not know, could not anticipate?
“My entire life has been one of waiting,” she said at last. “But this last year…” She let her voice trail off without finishing the thought.
He said nothing in reply, but she knew that he understood.
Adela had spoken to Eric frequently since her return a year earlier and the two of them had grown close, or as close as a separation of millions of kilometers would allow. The tachyon dish aboard his starship had made their communications instantaneous, and the transmitted images were frequently crystalline in their clarity, but they were a poor substitute for the warmth of his touch, the feel of his fingertips, the scent of his hair.
Javas held her, silent and unmoving. After forty years’ separation from her with only recorded holographic messages and images to give them some small semblance of closeness, he understood only too well the emotions going through her right now. She tightened her embrace, thankful for his insight, and closed her eyes as she thought, But this is even more difficult, my love, than you can know. The two of us have shared each other in so many ways… but I have not shared even a day of my life with my son. And it frightens me.
There was a sudden loud hissing as the holding tanks on the shuttle were purged. The two of them turned in time to see the noxious gasses, contained in an air shield, form a hazy sphere around the shuttle’s nose before being swirled away into the bay’s recycling system. It was the last technical function that needed to be performed before the air shield was lowered and the passengers disembarked.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to stay?” Javas asked, taking one of her hands in his. “Just until you’ve had a chance to greet him?”
“No.” She shook her head firmly, a determined smile coming to her lips. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”
“Until dinner, then.” He kissed her softly, and with a quick squeeze of her hand turned to go.
The two Imperial escorts that had been standing unobtrusively behind them now snapped smartly to attention, and one of them formally fell into step at the Emperor’s side as he headed toward the guarded corridor that would take him back to the Imperial section. The other man remained at attention behind her, but discreetly made a show of observing the activity of the bay technicians.
She heard the sound of laughter ring out over the constant background noise of the bay and returned her attention to the shuttle. A group of nine, in obvious good spirits to be back home, trundled down a narrow ramp that had appeared just behind the nose of the craft. Eric was in the center of the group, his uniform jacket slung casually over one shoulder. Most of the others still had their jackets on, and even from this distance Adela could see the colors of rank on their collars. The fact that the group was of mixed rank pleased her, as Eric seemed to show as much friendship and respect for the lowest ranking members of his bridge crew as he did for his closest officers. She could tell, in the way they shared a sense of comradeship with one another, that the respect and admiration were mutual. They gathered in a tight knot at the end of the ramp as he bid them farewell one at a time, shaking the hand of each in turn.
Adela caught the eye of one of the crew, a young woman whose collar indicated that she was First Officer. The woman whispered something into Eric’s ear, and he turned quickly in her direction, easily picking Adela out in the nearly empty bay. He stood straighter then and slipped on his jacket, hastily fastening the gold buttons.
Eric smiled at her and raised his hand in an eager wave, then politely excused himself from the group. The others seemed to sense the importance of this meeting and quietly dispersed, heading for the crew exit hallways on the opposite side of the bay.
Adela felt her heart pounding in her chest as Eric approached, and clasped her hands in front of her to hide their shaking. She prayed that he wouldn’t notice how nervous she was.
It’s just not the same, she reflected as he neared. After a full year of realtime communications with him, in holographic settings that gave the superficial appearance of someone being in the same room, she came to realize everything they had said to each other had been a poor preparation for this moment.
“Hello, Mother,” he said in the powerful tenor she had come to know so well these last months. He took both of her hands in his and kissed her on the cheek, and as he pulled back and looked into her face, it suddenly struck her that he was as anxious about this meeting as she was.
“Eric.”
She studied his face, and saw herself in his features as surely as if she’d peered into a mirror: the dark hair and deep brown eyes; the wide mouth which, like her mother’s, was quick to turn up into a smile; the fair complexion that ran in her family. But it was also as if a part of Javas was standing before her as well. Eric had grown tall, and while he did not reach his father’s height he had Javas’ strength in his broad shoulders. The structure of his face, the high cheekbones, the waviness of his thick hair as it touched the collar of his gray-blue commander’s jacket, all spoke of the Emperor. But above all else, behind his eyes lay the same fire she knew to be in Javas’ eyes.
Adela opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by a loud, steady whine from the shuttle receiving tube as the lifters engaged to rotate the craft for later departure.
Eric nodded sharply to the escort, dismissing him. “Walk with me, somewhere quieter,” he said over the noise, indicating the guarded hallway that Javas had taken a few minutes earlier. He released her hands, then fidgeted for a moment as if he didn’t know what to do with his own, and finally clasped them behind his back as they walked toward the exit.
Neither spoke as they walked across the noisy bay. The guards snapped to attention when they passed, then resumed their position once the soundproof doors closed behind them.
In silence at last, Adela wondered if her son could hear her heart as easily as she could.
“You look well…”
“I’m glad that you…” they said at the same time, then stopped and faced each other in the corridor. Both of them burst into laughter, the spontaneous pleasure of the sound reverberating in the corridor relieving the tension she felt. There was another set of double doors several dozen meters down the hallway, with another set of armed guards stationed on the other side, but here they were alone, mother and son.
For the first time.
“I’m sorry,” he said, still chuckling nervously. “You first.”
“Eric, I…” Adela began. Even though she had rehearsed this meeting a hundred times in her imagination, she still wasn’t sure where to begin.
He seemed to sense what she was trying to say, and again took both of her hands in his. “There’s no sense in trying to rush things,” he said, smiling.
As he spoke, Adela heard both the strength and tenderness to which she had grown accustomed in Javas’ voice. He was so much like his father.