Emerald Flight: Homecoming: The Worst of Both Worlds (continued)

The morning progressed into early afternoon. More tales were told, and much more drinking was done. Even as she sat among them, Elizabeth felt the distance between herself and those around her increase.

Nearly everyone there was either still attending school or held down some form of employment. The stories they told, even about people she knew, felt transitory, as if they would no longer matter past the telling. These people felt so adrift, unfocused, so . . . undisciplined. Not that it was a new realization for her. During college, she had often felt like way, of being among the few who had a specific goal and drove herself toward it. She imagined that Captain Devereux had been same.

When the alcoholic beverages had run out, those not asleep decided to journey back into town for food and more drinks. Although they invited her along, Elizabeth declined, claiming that she needed to be back for some family function. It was only partly a lie, as she knew that her parents were expecting her to attend supper, even if her mother had done little more than hint obliquely at the fact.

Now she sat on the porch, staring upward as dusk absorbed the sky. The shift to silvery-gray was a fitting accompaniment to her growing melancholy. On a continent of more than forty million people, she felt very alone.

Her inward reverie was interrupted by a medium-pitched, pulsing sound. It took her a moment to realize that it was her phone signaling an important call.

She fumbled for her wrap, nearly falling out of the chair, as she tried to grab it and also dig the phone out of one of its pockets. She found it, nearly dropped it, and flipped it over just as the display went dark. Swearing vaguely under her breath, she turned it back on and checked her messages. What she found there pushed away all other thoughts of her day so far.

Blinking hard, she read over the message again. Its contents hit her like a sharp strike to the chest: Captain Devereux had resigned her commission.

For personal reasons, it said. That could mean anything, Elizabeth told herself. Could something have gone wrong during the routine inquiry? Should I have stayed there to help her?

With a blossoming wave of despair, Elizabeth read the rest of the message. With Captain Devereux’s resignation, the status of her crew had been changed from “On Leave”, while they waited for repairs to their ship to be completed, to “Pending New Assignment”. That meant, Elizabeth recognized, that in all likelihood she and her fellow crewmates would be scattered across the Fleet, to different ships and stations.

The realization struck her with more force than she ever would have imagined. Her eyes burned and she fought to swallow against the immense lump that threatened to choke her. It wasn’t fair. She knew that there were things about serving in the Fleet that were not fair, but still . . .

Elizabeth heard the porch door open behind her and tried to regain her composure. Wiping savagely at her eyes with the heel of her hands failed to stop the tears. She managed one deep, shuddering breath, recovering only the slightest measure of control. She heard light footsteps in the grass, but refused to turn around—not yet.

“Elizabeth?”

It was her mother’s voice, but curious and yet somehow disapproving.

“What’s wrong, dear?”

There was something in her mother’s tone that caused Elizabeth to grit her teeth. She turned, not bothering to hide her tears, and thrust her phone out toward her mother.

Her mother eyed it suspiciously for a moment, as if Elizabeth had offered her the head of a venomous serpent, before taking it and looking down at its display.

Elizabeth did not know what to make of her mother’s expression as she read the announcement. Tiny muscles in her jaw spasmed occasionally. Her eyebrows also moved with subtle motions, but nothing that Elizabeth could interpret as real emotion.

“We’ll discuss this with your father,” she finally said.

She held out her hand toward Elizabeth, but Elizabeth refused to accept it. Elizabeth knew it was more a command to follow her than any gesture of sympathy.

Her mother started back toward the house. Elizabeth followed after only a moment, leaving her beach wrap forgotten on the chair behind her.

It was not until she reached the house that she realized that her mother had not returned the phone.