robe to check his burned and bruised legs, wondering why he no longer felt pain. His ankles, calves, knees, and thighs, once blackened or bloody, were now unmarked. They were also hairless.
“Holy shit,” Cal said, a hand rising instinctively to the top of his scalp.
Baby-rump bald!
“Well, you guys have certainly been busy, haven’t you?” Cal said, annoyed despite his renewed sense of well-being. “So, are you going to have the decency to come out and play?”
Silence.
Violet light spasmed through layers of creamy translucence that seemed to stretch upward for many meters.
“Okay. The name is Calspar Shemzak, predoc, University of Alpha Ceti.” He grinned. “Correspondence school, mind you. Born under supervised conditions on Terra, serial number A59 Omega Omega Zero 45 Subdivision 12. I want you to know that’s all you’re going to get from Cal Shemzak!”
Unless, of course, Cal thought, you threaten to torture me.
His words reverberated through the chamber, dying off into whispery echoes.
A sudden shaft of bluish light hit the floor two meters from his feet. The base widened, creating a cone of light. Two people—or rather, holograms of people—appeared within the cone, auraed with a ghostly glow.
Cal recognized his sister Laura immediately. It took him a little longer to recognize himself.
The figures were younger versions … perhaps fifteen years old ….
Four years ago!
“ … Do you think they know?” Laura was asking. She wore the red-and-white skip suit of a cadet, complete with epaulets and trim.
“No,” said Cal’s younger image, slouched nonchalantly upon a couch. “But if we keep our promise to each other, they will soon enough. I dare say, knowing these jokers and the kind of important positions we’re being trained for, they’re going to be screening our mail.” He lit his pipe, one of a stream of affectations he used to demonstrate his impending adulthood.
“A code!” Excitement lit her dark eyes, and the older Cal fell in love with her all over again. She looked so much better in long hair.
Wait a minute
, he thought.
How did the Jaxdron get a recording of this conversation?
“We can devise a secret code,” Holo-Laura was saying, “consisting of banal everyday words, so they won’t even know it’s a code. Won’t that be fun?”
“Hold on a second, motor mouth,” Cal said affectionately. “It’s not like we’re going to be doing anything wrong. Just unconventional. Society these days looks upon our sort of relationship like … well, like farting and belching and picking your nose in public … you know, uncivilized, barbaric.”
“But it’s not, Cal. It’s wonderful.” She was all smiles then, an innocent little girl, and Cal hated the Friendhood for what they had done to her in these past four years.
“Yeah, well, just don’t wipe your snot on me, okay?” Cal said, grinning his best mischievous grin.
“Oh, you’re awful!” she said, hitting him playfully. Her blows had been harmless then, but she certainly could pack a wallop these days! These days he watched his mouth around her. “You’re the one who found all those delightful old films, those old books.”
“Yeah, and I’m also the one who peeped into those record spools and found out certain relevant genetic information.” He put his arm around her and hugged her.
“We have had a good time, haven’t we?”
“We’ve been naughty!” she said, her eyes shining as she kissed him on his cheek.
“But we’re going to see each other again, whenever possible. And the only way we’re going to be able to stay in touch is through letters, so I guess we’re just going to have to be a little more obvious about our feelings. There will be a lot of frowns, sure, and if our companions in our respective schools find out, which they most likely will, we will no doubt get oodles of flak.” The holo-image of his younger self stood up. “Now then, all packed?”
“Yes.”
“Just remember