Author: Douglas A. Taylor
Category: Suspense
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We don't dress up much at HQ. Most of the time we just wear shorts and tee-shirts. It's sort of our unofficial uniform because it's easy to slip into and easy to fight in. The temperature at headquarters, which has no way to get in or out except by teleportation, is kept comfortable year round, and when we're shielded, the temperature of the outside air doesn't really matter.
So, in order to dress up nice for Prime Commander's funeral, I had to retrieve my old suit from home. Of course, I didn't want to just teleport into my room at my parents' house and possibly surprise someone who had come in to dust or something, so I enlisted the help of my younger sister Angela. She knows I'm a Prime, and as Junior Prime Pink, she has even taken part in a couple of our battles.
I told Angie about Prime Commander's death. She had never met him, but she had met Shelley, and when I got the coast-is-clear signal from her and teleported to my room to pick up my suit, she handed me a signed sympathy card and a single red rose for Shelley and family. Angie's thoughtful that way.
Wizzit teleported us Primes out to a pasture at the Windhams' ranch. It wasn't exactly a graveside ceremony because there was no grave -- the ashes would be scattered over the pasture -- but it was a nice service. I was surprised at the number of people who attended. Shelley was there, of course, along with her mother and Francesca, and I saw a large number of people whom I took to be ranch hands or folks from town who knew the Windhams. I guess Prime Commander was a popular guy.
Off to one side stood a group of four well-dressed people, all of whom looked fairly young and athletic, and who seemed decidedly out of place. I had never met any of them, but I knew who they were. I looked at each of them in turn and repeated their names to myself: Mayumi Chikamatsu, Alvaro Boada, Cathy Beals, and Bill Harding. The four living ex-Primes.
No one saw us standing out on the perimeter because we were all in camouflage mode. It wouldn't do, after all, for anyone to suspect that Commander Windham was anything more than just an area rancher who had had the misfortune to break his neck while out riding. Shelley knew we were there, though, acting as a silent, invisible honor guard for her father. And I'd swear that during one part of the ceremony, Mayumi turned her head and looked straight at me.
We teleported back to HQ after the service was over, all except for Mike. Shelley had planned an ox roast at the ranch for the guests, and there was no point in our hanging around for that. Mike, being the only one of us besides Shelley who knew all the ex-Primes personally, was to meet them and invite them back to HQ for our own wake.
They arrived bearing the portion of the feast that Shelley had set aside for us: platters of slow-roasted meat, barbecue sauce, buns, grilled vegetables, and pasta. I know it should have been a somber occasion, but the four newcomers seemed so genuinely happy to be there -- laughing, joking, and smiling -- that it lightened everyone's mood.
I had just filled my plate when I saw Bill beckoning me over to him. "You're Trevor, right? Prime Indigo?" he said, grinning. I nodded. Bill was a tall, good-looking guy with an honest, open face that made you want to get to know him better. "I hear your sister has that Junior Prime badge I made. What does she think of it?"
"Oh, that's right, Shelley told me you were the guy who made it," I said. "She, uh, she likes it just fine, I guess."
"Did Wizzit really modify it so she can use a blaster?" When I confirmed that he had, Bill shook his head in amazement. "I didn't believe it when Shelley told me. At the time I was just making, you know, a toy for her sister, and I copied a lot of the tech from our belts. I had no idea it could do anything useful."
"Well, it's been pretty useful for her," I said with a grin. "And for us, too." He listened raptly as I told him how Angela had helped us destroy the weird monster that I had privately dubbed Mr. Creepy-pants. "Of course, we have to be careful because she doesn't have a real force shield like the rest of us, but we're happy to have the extra help now and then, and Angie's just thrilled with the whole thing."
"Well, good! I'm glad to hear that someone's getting some use out of it." He started to say something else, but was interrupted by a squeal from someone behind me.
"Bill, you big Canuck!" I turned to see Trina practically running in our direction. You know, somehow I had never thought I'd hear Trina utter the word "Canuck". Oh well, live and learn.
She gave Bill a big hug. He beamed down at her. "Trina, my little Russka! How have you been?"
"I have been fine." Her eyes sparkled. "Tell me, is it really true about you and . . . you know?"
I took that as my cue to leave. Scanning the room, I spotted Mayumi sitting in a corner by herself. I walked over to her. "Mayumi Chikamatsu? Hi, I'm Trevor Chiao, the current Prime Indigo. Do you mind if I join you?"
She smiled graciously and motioned me into the chair beside her. "We Asians have to stick together, don't we?"
I laughed. "I suppose we do. That wasn't the reason I came over here, though. I have an ulterior motive."
She made her eyes go wide in mock surprise. "Don't tell me you're trying to chat me up? I have to warn you, I'm a married woman!"
"No, of course not." I thought I saw her frown slightly, so I grinned and winked and added, "Well, at least that's not the only reason. I . . . was sort of hoping you would let me practice my Japanese on you. I don't know any native speakers, and . . ."
She nodded in understanding. "And the only time you get to use it is when you're shouting, 'There's an Enclave monster here! Run away! Run away!'"
"Yeah, something like that," I said, laughing again.
The two of us talked for a while in Japanese. That is, she talked and I struggled. My Japanese was rustier than I had thought, and I eventually gave up. Still, in spite of my limited vocabulary, she told me I spoke the language reasonably well, although I had a decided Chinese accent.
Reverting to English, she told me a few stories about the monsters they had fought in the early days of Enclave's assault on Earth, and also some about Mike and Shelley when they were new Primes. These latter I filed away for future reference, especially the one about the time Mike had tried to smuggle a case of Scotch into HQ.
"Do you ever miss being a Prime?" I asked her.
"Sometimes. I miss the excitement, of course, but not as much as I would have thought. I have developed other interests, primarily in designing clothes, and I have been quite successful." She seemed to grow reflective. "We have all been financially successful, all four of us, since we left the Primes. I think Wizzit might have had something to do with that. And then there's . . ." For a moment she appeared lost in thought. "Trevor," she asked me suddenly, "how old would you say I am?"
I studied her face. She was wearing some makeup, but not much. She didn't need it; her skin was smooth, her complexion was flawless, and there were no signs of wrinkles around her mouth or eyes. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, although to be polite, I shaved a couple years off of that. "You look like you're about twenty-three or twenty-four."
"Flatterer! I wasn't fishing for compliments." The sparkle in her eyes told me I'd scored a few brownie points with her anyway. "What would you say if I told you I was actually . . . thirty-six?"
I hesitated, then decided to gamble by telling her the truth. "With all due respect, Mayumi, I'd say you were lying," I told her with a grin. "I've seen the file we have on you. Prime Commander recruited you to be the first Prime Orange when you were twenty-three, and that was almost sixteen years ago. But I take your point. You haven't aged since you joined the Primes."
"I have aged some," she corrected me, "but not much. It's the same with the others. Well, except for Shelley; I'm sure you would agree she doesn't look thirteen any more. Tell me, did you wear glasses before you were recruited?"
"Contacts, yeah," I admitted. "I don't wear them any more."
"My glasses were a quarter-inch thick when I joined, and that's no exaggeration. Now, I find I
don't need glasses at all, not even for reading. Nor have I been sick, not even a cold. There are some advantages, it appears, to being a Prime. Or a former Prime."
"What about . . .?" I hesitated, wondering how to phrase this delicately. I didn't know Mayumi all that well, but I was curious about one thing. According to Wizzit, using the force shields makes us sterile. The effect supposedly lasts for about thirty days, but that particular timer gets reset every time we power up. Theoretically, if I quit the Primes, then I could father a child just a month later. Theoretically.
"I have two children," she said with a smile. "Does that answer your question?"
"Yeah, it does. Thanks."
The party continued until Wizzit began dimming the lights to tell us that it was time for all good Primes to get ready for bed. He keeps us on a fairly regular schedule, except when Enclave decides to attack in the middle of the night. Mike, Trina, Toby, and I each teleported out with one of our guests while Padma and Nicolai cleaned up and put away the leftovers.
Mayumi's husband did not seemed surprised to see her emerge from an inner room of her house in Japan, nor did he raise his eyebrows when I walked out behind her, still holding her hand. She introduced me as a trusted friend, and I exchanged a few pleasantries with him in my halting Japanese. Ten minutes later, I was back at HQ fast asleep.
Chapter 3