Relics - Michael Jan Friedman [2]
“Aye, sir?”
“Have ye ever been hang glidin’, Mister Franklin?”
The younger man shook his head-a little sadly, Scott thought. “No, sir, I haven’t.” And then “Have you?”
Scott sat back in his chair. “Since ye ask, yes. Not lately, mind ye. I’m talking forty years ago or more, before I even got accepted at the Academy.”
He gestured at a chair not more than a meter away. For a moment, Franklin hesitated, and Scott scowled inwardly.
Ye’re a crazy coot, Montgomery Scott. This lad’s got things to do on this ship-important things. An’ no time to listen to an old man spin his yarns.
But the ensign surprised him. Crossing the room, he grabbed the proffered chair, turned it around and straddled it.
If the lad wasn’t genuinely interested, Scott mused, he sure didn’t let on to it. Either way, Scott was grateful.
“Ye see,” he began, “I was born and reared in Scotland-as if ye couldnae tell. And my uncle-on my mother’s side, that is-was a hang glider from way back…”
Twenty minutes later, Scott was still regaling the younger man with tales of his airborne exploits. But he didn’t realize it until he happened to glance at the digital timekeeper at the bottom left of his monitor.
“Damn,” he breathed. “I’ve kept ye a mite longer than I meant to.”
Franklin grinned. “That’s all right. I’m off-duty.”
Ah. Well, that explained why he hadn’t made tracks yet.
“And besides,” said the ensign, “I’m really enjoying myself.” He leaned forward over the backrest of his chair. “But what I’d really like to hear about is the Enterprise. You know-what it was like to be on the most famous vessel in the fleet.”
Scott grinned back. “What it was like?” He shook his head. “It’s hard to describe, actually . I mean, what we did is in the computer records-the missions we carried out, the civilizations we visited. But what it was like … that had more to do with the men and women who served alongside me. And o’ course, the ship herself.”
“Captain Kirk?” Franklin prodded.
“Finest man I ever met, bar none. The finest commanding officer, the finest friend. And a fair hand with the ladies, to boot.”
“Commander Spock?”
Scott chuckled. “Like any other Vulcan-but more so. If ye’re in the jaws o’ hell, and ye can only choose one man to pull ye out… Spock’s that man.”
“Dr. McCoy?”
“A real crabapple … until ye get to know him, and then ye’d walk through fire for him. Saved my life more times than I’ve got fingers and toes.”
Scott took a breath of memory, savored it and let it out. Those were the days, all right. There were adventures before and since that time and some fond remembrances from those times as well. But the Enterprise…
“Captain Scott?”
He’d almost forgotten that Franklin was sitting in front of him. “Aye, lad?”
“This is going to sound funny, but…”
“Spit it out, Ensign. No need to mince words with me.”
Franklin straightened, a little surprised by the sudden authority in Scott’s voice. “Well, sir, pardon me for saying so, but-“
“Ye’re mincin’ words again, laddie.”
Finally, it came out “You don’t seem like the type to be headed for the Norpin Five colony, sir. I mean, I’ve served on this transport for more than a year now, and I’ve seen my share of retirees. And somehow, you just don’t fit the bill.”
“Ahh.” Scott dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. “It’s nice o’ ye to say so, Mr. Franklin. But ye’re wrong-dead wrong. I’ve worked my fingers to the bone on Starfleet’s behalf for four decades and more. No one’s earned a peaceful retirement more than Montgomery Scott has. And no one’s looking forward to it more, either. In fact-“
Suddenly, he felt a shudder in the deck plates below his feet. “We’re droppin’ out o’ warp,” he judged.
The ensign nodded. “Probably not for long, though.”
Scott looked at him. “Because Lieutenant Sachs has everything under control.”
Franklin nodded again. “That’s what he said, sir.”
The older man tapped his fingers on his armrest And then, unable to contain himself any longer, he got to his feet.
“I dinnae care what Lieutenant Sachs said. I was tinkerin’