Copyright statement: This story is an original work by the two authors and is copyrighted to Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick. Any resemblance of any character to any other person, living, dead or fictional is coincidental and unintentional.
Revolt!
By Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
Copyright 1992
Chris Powers groaned, pulling the pillow over his head. Something was tugging at his blanket, but he clutched it to him, too sleepy to investigate.
Cold liquid trickled across his bare chest and he sat up with a yell of protest, hurling the pillow away. "Hey!"
Roddy Atkins skipped back, laughing, and set the cup of water on Chris's dresser. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!"
"Blast you, Roddy!" Chris wiped water from his chest and neck.
"Sorry. Your Mom's been calling us. She says breakfast's ready."
"You're about to die, buddy ..." Chris leaped from the bed, making a dive at Roddy.. Roddy dodged, ducked under his outstretched arm and made a run for the bathroom.
Chris laughed, abandoning the chase, and stripped off his pajama top. He could smell coffee and frying bacon, and was suddenly aware of how hungry he was.
Roddy emerged from the bathroom again, a broad grin on his face. He was a short, slim boy, with a shock of auburn hair and blue eyes, only a fraction taller than Chris's 166 centimeters. Roddy and Chris had been close friends ever since they had met in the freshman class of Terran Space Academy, nearly four years ago. Chris could not imagine life without Roddy. Roddy was his best friend. He was also an orphan. His father had been dead for many years and his mother had been killed two years ago. Chris was the only person besides Roddy who knew the reason for her execution -- for execution it had been. Roddy's sweet, pretty little mother had been a Terran psychic -- a born criminal and degenerate, according to the Jilectan Autonomy, the giant empire of psychic beings who dominated the known galaxy to the cost of the lesser species. Roddy hadn't known his mother's secret until six months before her death, and never spoke of it even now.
Roddy turned on the shower for him "Hurry up. Your mom's getting impatient and your little sis won't leave me alone. I think she's got a crush on me."
"She does." Chris went past him, shedding his pajama bottoms as he did so. "Put those away for me, will you?"
"Sure." Roddy picked up the garment. "Seriously, though, she's driving me nuts. Maybe you ought to say something to her. It's getting kind of embarrassing."
Chris stuck his head out of the shower. "You're the one with the fatal charm, pal. You should know how to handle it."
Roddy's freckled face turned red. "Yeah, but it's different with the girls at the Academy, for the luvamike! Laura's only nine!"
"Ten next week." Chris began to soap his torso. Roddy's voice reached him clearly even over the rushing water.
"Big deal -- ten! She looks about seven!"
"Don't remind her of that." Chris laughed and poured shampoo onto his hair. The water temperature was perfect -- exactly the way he liked it.
"Chris!" It was his mother's voice, calling from the foot of the stairs. "Hurry up! Breakfast is ready!"
Chris quickly washed the soap from his hair and turned off the water. Roddy threw him a towel.
"See you downstairs," he said, and headed for the door.
Angelica Powers looked around as Chris entered the kitchen, a plate in one hand. "There you are! About time, too."
Chris ran a hand through his dark, still damp hair and smiled as disarmingly as he could. "Good morning, Mom."
"Good morning, Christopher." She gave him a smile and a pat on the head as he went by. It was a matter of great irritation to Chris that his mother was still taller than he was. He feared that she always would be, too, for although Chris was nineteen years old his mother, at 183 centimeters, dwarfed him. His growth spurt, if you could call it that, had occurred six years ago. He and Roddy were the two shortest males in their graduating class at the Academy.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. Roddy, seated across from him, looked more than a little uncomfortable. Chris's younger sister, Laura, was sitting beside him and huddling closer than necessary, considering the size of the table. She smiled up at him, managing, in spite of her age, to look very feminine and coy.
"I always did like red hair," she confessed in a stage whisper that could be heard all over the kitchen. "Wish mine was like yours."
Roddy squirmed unhappily. "Aw, I like yours just like it is, sweetie."
Sweetie, Chris thought with amusement. That was Roddy's problem. He couldn't bear to hurt her feelings. It got him in trouble.
"Easy on him, Laurie," he said. "Roddy has a girlfriend -- several of them, in fact."
"Sure, I know." Laura moved closer. "I got a boyfriend, too. There's nothing romantic between us. You've got a nasty mind, Chris."
"Eat your breakfast, Laura," said Mrs. Powers, mildly. "You too, Christopher."
"Salt Lake City's having a snowstorm," Chris's father remarked, his nose buried in the daily newsstrip.
"Oh, yeah?" Roddy was clearly ready for a change of subject. "How much have they had?"
"Fifty centimeters, and it was still falling as of midnight. Have you looked outside?" He nodded at the window. "All we've had is a few flurries. The lawn's hardly covered. Bet the resort's doing good, though. There'll be skiers galore today." Aaron Powers worked at a ski resort, to which he commuted daily by aircar.
"Maybe it'll hit us today," said Laura, hopefully.
Mrs. Powers chuckled and set a plate of bacon and eggs before her son. "Haven't you had enough snow this winter?"
"Nope," Laura said. "Is there any more toast?"
Mrs. Powers set the platter on the table and sat down. Her husband tossed the newsstrip aside and picked up his coffee cup. "Well, have you two boys had a good vacation?"
"It's been great," Roddy assured him. "I really want to thank you folks for having me."
"It was our pleasure," Mrs. Powers assured him. "We want you back this summer, too -- unless, of course, you've made other plans."
"Yeah!" Laura said, enthusiastically.
Roddy glanced uncomfortably at the little girl. "I'd like that a lot."
"What time should we leave for the port?" Chris asked, to save his friend any more embarrassment.
"Probably around seven." Roddy met his eyes across the table.
Mrs. Powers poured more coffee. "What else is in the news, dear?"
"I don't know." Aaron Powers grinned lazily. "I only glanced at the first page. Turn on the video and let that cute little newslady on channel 47 tell us about it."
His wife made a face at him, but switched on the set. "Channel 47, please."
The video flicked over several channels and stopped, but no picture rewarded them. Tiny spots roved frantically across the screen and the sound of static permeated the dining room. Mr. Powers grimaced. "Must be the storm."
Mrs. Powers considered a moment. "Channel 22, then."
"Aw, Mom!" Laura protested. "Brother *Dominic*?"
"It's Sunday, Laura," Mrs. Powers said, reprovingly.
Mr. Powers grimaced, but made no comment. Chris glanced at the familiar, portly figure of Brother Dominic framed by the videoscreen. The program was aptly named "Brother Dominic's Hour of Redemption Through Confession", and people often got very excited on it. He wished his mother had chosen a different evangelist. Brother Dominic made him a little nervous.
Brother Dominic, clad in his immaculate, white robes, smiled angelically from the videoscreen. He was a large, earnest, slightly plump young man, with a habit of rolling his eyes ceilingward as if seeking heavenly inspiration. Deep, soulful organ music filled the room.
Roddy leaned forward, coffee mug in hand. "Gosh, who's he? I've never seen him before!"
"You've never seen Brother Dominic?" Laura piped. "Oh, boy! He's a real --"
"Laura!" Mrs. Powers said. "I won't have you talking that way about a man of God!"
"Sorry, Mama," Laura mumbled.
"And now," the disembodied voice of the announcer intoned solemnly, "we present Brother Dominic's Hour of Redemption Through Confession, broadcast from the Temple of Joy in Western Europe. And now, Brother Dominic..."
A choir appeared in white and blue robes, and sang sweetly and tunefully. Roddy sighed, sipping his coffee. "They sing nice."
The choir concluded on a stirring note, and Brother Dominic appeared. He never changed, Chris thought, resignedly, and neither did his sermons. He would have much preferred to head into town to the family's church. Pastor Williams was an older man with white hair, but his sermons were interesting and full of humor. Chris liked him. He listened with half an ear as Brother Dominic's oration continued. Laura sighed with boredom, obviously remaining at the table only because Roddy was there. Mr. Powers stood up and began to carry the dishes to the processor. "I'll clean up, dear. You relax and watch the Brother."
The audience was getting excited now. They always did when Brother Dominic spoke, although Chris totally failed to understand why. Someone shouted, "Hallelujah!", and someone else, "Amen!" Roddy began to look a little uneasy, but said nothing. Chris started to stand up, then decided not to. If he offered to help his father with the dishes, Roddy and Laura would certainly offer, too. That would leave his mother watching Brother Dominic alone, and that, of course, wouldn't be right.
He sat still and endured. Brother Dominic raved on; the audience grew more excited, and Chris's mind began to drift. Today was the end of his and Roddy's two-week vacation from the Terran Space Academy. They were both senior cadets and would graduate in June. By September they would receive their first military assignments and Chris hoped they would be assigned together wherever that might be, although the chances weren't good.
Deliberately he turned his thoughts from that. Classes would be starting again tomorrow. Chris enjoyed it -- had since he had started almost four years ago. And he'd done well. He and Roddy both had, in fact. They were top honor students, and Chris was captain of the Academy null-grav polo team, and a Company Commander. He was also the president of the school chess club. Chris loved to play chess. It was an easy game for him. In fact, he had never lost a game yet at the Academy -- except one played in the privacy of their quarters against Roddy.
Roddy, however, was not that interested in the game. His talents ran to other areas. He was president of the debating team and the school fencing team, a star swimmer, and was also a Company Commander...
His thoughts were brought back to the present by Roddy's voice.
"Holy Space! Look at this guy, Chris!"
Chris looked at the videoscreen. The sermon had ended, and the time for Redemption Through Confession had begun. A little bald man with wild eyes was jabbering into the close-up camera, confessing that he and his secretary had been having an illicit affair for over a year now.
"And she's a married woman!" the man sobbed brokenly. "With seven children!"
"Laura," Mrs. Powers said, sharply, "go help your father with the dishes."
"Aw, Mama, do I have to?" Laura's eyes were fixed with fascination on the viewscreen.
"Yes, you do! Go!"
Laura backed toward the kitchen, her eyes still glued to the screen. Brother Dominic appeared, patting the little man on the shoulder and assuring him that his sins were now forgiven.
"Wonder what she sees in him?" Roddy whispered to Chris. Laura paused in the doorway, still watching. Mrs. Powers didn't notice.
An older woman stood up and began a long, tedious confession about the ninth grade class she taught, and how impatient she became with her students. The audience began to fidget and Roddy looked bored. "Bet he cuts her off quick. Nobody's going to want to listen to that for long."
Roddy was right. Brother Dominic ended the woman's confession swiftly, assured her of her forgiveness, and dismissed her.
Before she had resumed her seat another man was standing, shouting something rather incoherently. The camera focused on him, bringing his face up close on the screen. Laura spoke.
"Hey, Dad, look! It's Mr. Grayson!"
Mr. Powers' voice spoke from the small utility room. "Who?"
"Mr. Grayson! Remember the guy we had to dinner that day? He's confessing something!"
Aaron Powers appeared in the doorway. He stared at the videoscreen, his mouth at half cock.
The man on the screen was speaking more coherently now. "It's driving me mad with guilt! I can't stand it anymore!"
"Tell us about it, Brother Grayson," Brother Dominic urged. "Sins confessed are sins forgiven."
"I know! I know!" Grayson seemed overcome by emotion for a moment. "I can't stand it!" he repeated at last. "I've been working on a secret government project for months now! It's research on a weapon..." He choked, but managed to regain control of himself. "A terrible weapon! It'll kill Jilectans! Massacre them! They say they won't use it -- not unless there's a war -- but, my God! What if..."
Aaron Powers said something under his breath and sprinted across the room to vanish into his den. The door closed smartly behind him.
Brother Dominic was staring at the man in confusion. Someone beside the speaker jerked him down, and clear over the videoscreen Chris heard a voice telling the man in a most irreverent fashion to shut up.
Brother Dominic regained control of the situation, soothing the man and assuring him that his sins were forgiven. Mr. Grayson vanished into the mob, and another sinner stood up, beginning to confess. Roddy turned in his chair to look at Chris.
"Gosh! Do you suppose there's anything to it?"
"I don't know! What a damn fool stunt!"
"Chris!" Mrs. Powers objected.
"Sorry, Mom."
Aaron Powers emerged from the den. "I'm expecting an important call, dear. Nobody's to use the phone until it comes through."
"Yes, dear," Mrs. Powers replied absently.
"Daddy," Laura asked. "*Was* that Mr. Grayson?"
"No," Mr. Powers said, shortly.
"But Brother Dominic called him Brother Grayson --"
"Harold has a twin brother," her father told her. "I hear he's something of a fruitcake." His voice trailed off and he vanished abruptly into his den once more.
Chris and Roddy looked at each other again. Roddy raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "That's for sure. He could get in a lot of trouble over this, though. The Jils are going to want him for questioning, at least."
"I'll bet Brother Dominic's sweating blood, too."
"Chris!" Mrs. Powers sounded really shocked. "What *has* happened to your language?"
"Sorry, Mom," Chris said automatically.
The videophone chimed once, and faintly, through the closed door, Chris heard his father answer.
Brother Dominic's program was concluding. The choir appeared again and sang sweetly and stirringly. Brother Dominic's small son showed up, looking like a cherub in a snow-white gown, almost identical to his father's, and said a prayer in a sweet, emotionless little voice. The screen faded out to the sound of soft music.
"Man!" Roddy observed. "I'll bet that raises the ratings!"
"That, or gets him off the air completely. I'll bet the big shots are having a fit."
"If there's anything to it," Roddy said, skeptically. "Sounds a bit far-fetched."
"Yeah, it does." Chris glanced toward the den. "Dad seems sort of upset about it, though."
Mrs. Powers began to gather up the coffee cups. Chris got quickly to his feet. "Roddy and I will do that for you, Mom."
"Thank you, Chris, but I'll finish up here." Mrs. Powers smiled, her pretty face serene. She looked, thought Chris, more like a college student than a mother of two. "You two go get your things packed."
Roddy helped her gather up the rest of the dishes. "Are you sure, Mrs. Powers? I'll do it. I don't mind."
Mrs. Powers ruffled his red curls. "Thank you, Roddy. I'll be fine."
The door the den opened abruptly and Mr. Powers emerged. "I have to go, honey. There's trouble at the lodge." He opened the door to hall closet and removed his coat and hat. Mrs. Powers stepped into the hall. "Dear -- it's your day *off*! And this is the boys' last day of vacation!"
"Can't be helped. I'll be back as soon as I can." Aaron Powers pecked his wife on the cheek and vanished out the front door.
"Gosh," Chris said. "He looked kind of upset. What's it about?"
"I don't know." Chris' mother was looking worried. "We'll find out when he gets back."
Roddy accompanied Chris from the room, and together they went up to pack. Outside it was snowing again, the flakes sticking to the window. Roddy pressed the window controls and the pane slid silently upward. He sighed with rapture at the rush of cold air on his face. "I like snow." he said.
"That's because you're from California," Chris told him, opening the suitcases. "You get pretty tired of it around here -- especially after you've shoveled a small mountain of it off the front porch. Brr! Close the window!"
Roddy obeyed and began to help pack their belongings in the suitcases. "Hope everything's all right with your dad. By the way, I've been meaning to ask -- when's you mom's baby due?"
Chris goggled at him. "What?"
"Well --" Roddy looked embarrassed at Chris's astonished stare. "Isn't she pregnant?"
"Not that I know of."
"Oh. Sorry." Roddy's voice trailed off in confusion. "I just thought--" He shrugged. "Look, don't say anything to her, okay? If you do she'll think she's getting fat and go on a diet or something."
Chris frowned. "If she is, she hasn't said anything to me. Why did you think she was?"
Roddy was looking more embarrassed than ever. "I don't know. I guess she looked a little bulgy around the middle."
"Middle-aged spread," said Chris, lightly. "When you're forty-six you'll have some, too."
Roddy whacked himself solidly in the chest. "Not me. I'm never going to get old."
"Beats the alternative," Chris said.
"Yeah, I guess it does." Roddy stuffed a pair of pants into his suitcase. "Besides, forty-six isn't so old. Dr. Levin's a hundred and seventy, or so I hear, and he doesn't look fat."
"He's a hundred and seventy? Who told you that?"
"I don't know. I heard it somewhere. Maybe he isn't." Roddy glanced at Chris's neatly arranged suitcase and grinned. "Who taught you to pack, anyway?"
"Dad did. He used to do a lot of traveling when he was young."
Roddy laughed. "He can't be over fifty. He's not exactly ancient, yet. I heard on the news that the average lifespan's being revised upward again. Two ten, now, they say."
"Oh, yeah?" Chris wasn't really listening. He found himself wondering suddenly what kind of emergency at the ski lodge could be so important to drag his father away from home on his day off.
**********
tbc
