"I don't see why we couldn't have left at a decent hour, that's all." Dan complained, as he muscled his bag out the front door and latched it behind him.   Hearing Ken and Jack snoring in their guest bedroom as they left made it even harder for him to stay awake.

“If we leave any later we'll get stuck in traffic."  

Dan stowed his gear in his trunk of his car, tossed the keys to Bo and collapsed into the passenger seat. “Great. You can drive, then."

“Perfect!" Bo reached inside and pulled the driver's seat all the way back on its tracks before fitting himself carefully into position.  To look at him, it seemed highly improbable that Bo could be comfortable strapped into the human-sized seat, yet he seemed satisfied. “The southern entrance to the jump port has forty kilometers of twisty country road, complete with scenic views and historic markers, and I want to drive it.'

Dan was surprised by this, but he knew better than to question the validity of the information.  He'd done that before and had discovered that Bo was right far more often than not.  He settled for giving Bo a grunt as he stifled a yawn and reclined his seat, making himself comfortable for the four-hour drive.

Three and a half hours later, Dan awakened to the pressure of Bo's hand on his thigh. “Get up, sleepyhead," he said, “we're almost there."

Dan rubbed his eyes clear and caught sight of the enormous silver ship emerging from the clouds. "Whoa."  He couldn't keep the incredulity from his voice as more and more of the ship slid into view.  "That thing's huge!"

"I've heard that before." Bo drawled, grinning smugly.

Dan ignored him and stared as clouds slid away to reveal the nose of the ship.  In letters twenty feet tall, the ship's name, 'Atlantis', was clearly visible even at this distance.  Dan had seen ships before, of course, streaking through the night sky on their way to supply colonies on other worlds, but he'd never had occasion to be this close to one.  Hovering high above the ground, with the trees and nearby mountains to give perspective, the ship seemed impossibly large.  Dan's brain had a difficult time wrapping itself around the fact that something so big could just be floating there absent any kind of visible support.  But there it was, silently suspended in the mid-morning sky, taunting his belief.

"Have you figured out why I insisted on going the long way around?"  Bo asked, obviously satisfied that his surprise had worked.  "It's not so effective when you can see the ship from far away."

"I take back anything bad I said or thought about your being stubborn," Dan conceded, his eyes glued to the graceful, silvery-white shape.  "This is absolutely incredible. Thanks!"

"De nada," Bo said, his boulder-sized shoulders rising and falling in a massive shrug.  

Dan peered out the front windscreen and noticed the car moving past low-hanging clouds while the ship barely moved.

"You've probably seen dozens of ships like this when you were in the military." Dan said, “and even more when you were building the jump rings."

"I've been on my share," Bo agreed, "But nothing even close to this size was rigged for atmosphere so I only saw them from the inside.  I've only seen two ships out in the open like this before, and it was pretty awesome."  He put a hand on Dan's shoulder. “I can't wait until you see the Earth from orbit.  It'll change the way you see things, I guarantee it."

Dan had a feeling he was right and couldn't wait to get aboard. After weeks of not really believing that anything this cool could ever happen to him, the excitement of the trip was finally beginning to set in.  Every morning he opened his computer's mailbox with a sense of dread, expecting to find a notice there warning him that someone had discovered an error and their trip was off.  Now that they were so close, he allowed himself to accept that he was really about to live out one of his lifelong dreams.  In hours he would be in space.

They drove the last few miles in silence, adrenalin pumping through Dan's system as he anticipated boarding the enormous ship.  He stole a glance at Bo, wishing he could be as calm and composed as he seemed to be.  Bo noticed him looking and turned to face him.  Dan tried to hide his eyes, but could do nothing to hide his feelings.

"Dan."  Bo said, and Dan turned back to face him. Bo took Dan's hand in his free handpaw, rubbing it affectionately. "There's only one first time for this sort of thing.  Don't be afraid to enjoy it."

Dan blinked, then grinned shyly.  “Yeah, I know. I just feel like I'm a little kid again."  

Bo turned back to his driving, and soon followed the signs into an underground parking facility. They parked the car and pulled out their bags, then began walking towards the terminal.  Fast moving slidewalks brought them the last half mile to their check-in point, where they passed through several narrow corridors before boarding the ferry that shuttled groups of passengers up into the belly of the ship.  

Not wanting to seem like a country hick, Dan used their bond to pose his question.

?this is all going so fast.  

don't they bother with security

checks any more?"  

Bo thought about what he wanted to say and abandoned their mental communication in favor of old-fashioned tongue-talk.  Some things simply didn't translate well over a mental link.  He leaned closer and explained.  "We've been under constant surveillance ever since we got inside the twenty-kilometer safe zone.  When we drove into the garage the car was scanned for threats, and there's continuous chemical sniffing going on to detect explosives.  Remember the white corridors we just came through?"  

Dan nodded, remembering how cramped those corridors had been.  "Scanners?" he verbalized.

"Yep.  Right down to your DNA.  The station computers compare what they just scanned to what they downloaded earlier from your medical file.  If the two don't match, blast doors automatically close on either side of you and you're politely escorted into the security area, where real people take over."

Again, Dan was impressed. "How do you know all this?"

Bo shrugged. "I was military.  For five years, security was my business."  He winked at Dan, "I know some stuff."  

Thirty minutes later, Bo wasn't nearly so chipper. "You've got to be kidding me," he groused. "Another line?"

Dan couldn't help teasing him. "After five years in the military, you should be used to standing in lines."

Bo merely growled deep in his chest as he continued to look around the room, but Dan could tell that he was merely being his usual, curmudgeonly self. While on the outside he looked as if being grumpy occupied the greatest portion of his thought, Dan knew that deep down he was furiously busy, taking in every sight, every smell, every sensation and new experience that came his way, meticulously cataloging them in that astounding, modified brain of his.

The black varius fell comfortably into the role of the grumpy ex-military meathead, and in so doing disguised his intelligence from all but a very few carefully chosen people.   Less than a dozen close friends outside the military knew that his subspecies had their intelligence genetically enhanced, and fewer still knew the strength of his and Dan's bond.  Among varii, a 'strong bond' meant that the mated pair had the ability to communicate complex thoughts and ideas when separated by as much as a half-kilometer, rather than being restricted to emotions and simple concepts over a span measured in meters. Where some unfortunate pairs who possessed only a weak bond could only communicate when in direct physical contact.  Dan and Bo had no trouble whatsoever communicating with each other across the twenty-five kilometers separating work from home, and even that extraordinary range was increasing with time and experience.

As they emerged from the machines that took their photographs and spat out the plastic chits that served as both identification and credit onboard the ship, they passed an elderly varius holding a dozen string necklaces with clear plastic pouches at one end. "Get your ID lanyards here!" the vendor cried, in an imploring wavering voice. "You'll need them!"

Dan expected Bo to walk by the man, the same way he'd passed by any number of other vendors that day, but Bo surprised him by putting a gentle hand on Dan's shoulder and stopping to investigate the man's wares.  "Let me see one of those," Bo gruffly demanded, imperiously reaching his hand out.

The old man separated one lanyard from the rest and placed it in Bo's hand with a hopeful look.  "Just two credits," he said, uncertainly..

Bo closed his hand around the lanyard and brought it closer to his eyes for examination, and the severe tone of his voice ignored all compassion. "Why do I need one?" he demanded.

"Your ship pass is your room key, your credit card, and your identification for the entire trip," the old man explained. "If you lose it, it's big trouble."

Bo did not seem particularly impressed. "Why can't I just put it in my pocket?"

"You could," the vendor allowed, "but you'll need to show this card a hundred times a day.  Do you really want to fumble around in all your pockets that many times a day?" He brandished the plastic pocket at the end of the string. "This is better.  Always ready!"

Bo pulled the loop between his thick fingers.  "It's not long enough," he dismissed, handing it back to the old man.

"Pinch the ends between your fingers like this," the vendor demonstrated, and as if by magic the meta-material allowed its length to be stretched by at least fifty percent, with no other visible changes. "See?  Now, it fits!"  He handed it back to Bo, who took it with grudging acceptance. "Look," the man motioned to Dan, "it gets shorter, too."  He gathered a second cord into a loose wad between his palms, pinched the ends, and rubbed the mess between his pads.  Sure enough, when he stopped rubbing and released the cord, it had coiled itself into a tidy quarter-meter length, sufficiently short to comfortably wrap around Dan's wrist.

Now obviously interested, Bo ran his fingers over the cord, examining it closely. "This appears cheaply made," he complained, when a section of the flat, centimeter-wide webbing appeared to be almost separating in his hand after he scrubbed it back and forth between his pads

The vendor snatched the cord back from him and pulled its length through his paws a few times, using gentle friction to heat it.  He displayed to them a lanyard that looked good as new, and handed it back to Bo, this time with an attitude that was not entirely supplicating. "How much am I asking for these?"

"Two credits." Bo allowed.

"Then shut up."

Dan couldn't stop the bark of laughter that burst from him.  It was the same line Bo had used on him when he'd complained about the quality of meat in a three-credit cheeseburger a few months back, and it was just as effective in this situation.  A small amount of money for something that would get the job done. He fished in his pockets and pulled out a few bills.  "Two for three credits."

"Three for five," the vendor said, separating a third lanyard from the bundle.

"We don't need three," Bo complained, "And that's more than two of them cost originally!"

"I can use the third lanyard for my comm," Dan justified, as he dug in his pockets for another two credits. "and you can use the extra pouch to hold your varius ID."

Bo honestly hadn't thought about that, and although he wasn't sure he agreed with Dan, his raised eyebrow was acquiescence enough.

Dan thanked the old man, and immediately slipped his ship pass into the protective plastic holder.  As they walked away he rubbed the material between his palms and was gratified to feel it reducing in length between his hands.  "This is cool," he said. "How many times do you think it can change in size before it wears itself out?"

"I dunno, but the army uses the shit out of stuff like this," Bo noted, slipping his own lanyard around his neck. "If it starts to fray or lose its shape, you can just throw it into boiling water and it comes back."

"They should make everything out of this stuff," Dan observed.

Bo's response was typically cynical. "If everything lasted forever, how could they sell you another one when it wore out?"  The image he sent to Dan over their link made his partner laugh again - it was one of a distinguished man in a cane and top hat, standing regally for a moment before his pants fell into a puddle around his ankles.  "How would you like to have to reshape your clothes every time they got washed in hot water?"

Dan shook his head as he worked to release the plastic pouch from the third lanyard. "No, thanks."  He handed the pouch to Bo and fished his comm out of his pocket.  As long as it was out anyway... "Hold on, Boo."  He looked around them, and tapped a passing traveler on the shoulder.  "Would you mind?"  Dan held the comm out to the man, expectantly.

"Sure," the other man said. Although he took the device from Dan readily enough, his tone gave Dan the idea that the man was merely being polite rather than friendly.

Dan didn't care.  He wedged himself underneath Bo's arm and faced the stranger, and the smile plastered across his face was completely genuine.  They were mere seconds from boarding the transport that was going to take him on the vacation of a lifetime, in the company of the man of his dreams to whom he'd just been married.  Why wouldn't he smile?

"Hey!"  Bo's excited voice brought Dan up short. "Hats!"

Dan could feel Bo's enthusiasm through their link, but couldn't discern the cause. "Yeah, tourist hats. So?"

"So, I've always wanted a hat!" Bo said, eagerly digging through the bin. One caught his eye, and he carefully teased it from the pile with the tip of a claw.  He re-shaped it with his huge fingertips and jammed it on his head, overlooking the fact that it was a few sizes too small to fit properly. "I like it!"

Dan felt Bo's growing satisfaction and stepped in before his affection for the hat made owning it a necessity. "I like it," he lied, diplomatically, "but it's a little small."

Bo's ear twitched at the deception.  "You don't like it."

*disappointment*

*guilt*

Dan clamped down on his feelings before they could get him in even deeper trouble.  Although he was a diplomatic man by nature, what went on behind the curtain of his mind was often far less tactful.  

*hurt*

"I don't like it when you do that,"  Bo said, quietly.  No matter why it happened, being shut out of your partner's mind felt like rejection.

"I'll be back in a minute," Dan reassured him. "I just have to get my thoughts in order, is all."  After their bonding, Bo Taylor had used Dan's love to become a stronger man in a hundred different ways.  But he'd also allowed himself to become vulnerable in ways that at times made him seem almost fragile.  Dan had never appreciated how much his opinion meant to Bo until he felt for himself the sting of disapproval.  "You know I'm not as organized as you are."

After a few moments spent watching Bo poke through the bin of hats looking for one he liked better, Dan thought that he'd figured out an answer that was both true and not hurtful.  His open mind caused Bo to stop what he was doing and look up.  "I think that you're a big guy, and if you don't wear a big enough hat, it won't look dignified.  People will think it looks silly and they'll make fun of you, and that's going to make me angry.   Getting angry makes me feel bad and I'd rather not do it, so can we please just nip this in the bud and buy you a hat that fits?"

*mollified*

Bo looked at him for a moment, then put the hats back in the bin.

i'm sorry

He'd been too sensitive again, and had let himself be hurt by an imagined slight.  From the first day he'd known him, Dan had always looked out for his best interests.  It was silly to think he'd stop doing that now.

*love*

don't worry about it

***

“But why?"  The child's voice caught both of them by surprise.  It wasn't a whine like they might have expected from someone so young, but a sincere question.

“Because who knows what this thing might do when it takes off?  You might fall down."

“All those people are standing up, and they don't look afraid," the young boy noted.  He pointed at a matronly woman leaning against the handrail. “That lady is standing up," he said, matter-of-factly, then lowered his voice as he added, “and she's old."

“Besides," he pointed out, logically, “if I stand here I'll have something to do, and I won't be fidgety."

?how old is this kid anyway?

Dan thought.

The boy watched in silent fascination as the ferry disconnected from its umbilicus and began to rise away from the terminal, mouth agape at the spectacle.  

As the ground dropped away with increasing speed Dan felt the excitement thrill through him, much like it used to when he was a child reaching the front of the line at the amusement park.  It was really going to happen.  Nobody had pulled him out of line and told him he didn't belong here.  No one had found a medical condition which would bar him from travel, a criminal record that would restrict him to Earth, or political leanings that would brand him as a dangerous risk.  His favorite childhood dream was coming true!  And what made it all the better, he thought, looking over at Bo, was he had someone in his life to share it with.

“See?" the child said, “It's smooth. Just like the books said."

“Fine," the woman gave in. “Just don't run off anywhere without telling us."  Dan watched quietly as the mother gave up and went back to her seat, where her husband and her book held more interest than her argumentative child

As she walked off, the boy turned to the bank of windows that displayed a steadily receding Earth.  Softly enough that his mother could not hear, he answered, “Where would I go?"

Bo turned away from the window long enough to pull his partner over in front of him.  He felt Dan's momentary unease through their link.  Dan never wanted to offend anyone else, and seeing a display of affection between a gay, mixed-species, married couple was certain to crawl up someone's back.  Wrapping his arms around his lover, he bent down and whispered into his ear. "If they don't like it, they can jump off the damned shuttle."  

Dan chuckled quietly at his mate, then pulled the huge man's arms tighter around himself in agreement.  Looking over the viewing rail, he watched the ground dropping away below them.  Their small shadow raced across the desert floor, coming closer and closer to the elephantine shadow of the ship.   

That reminded Dan to look up at their destination, and he was again surprised how large the ship seemed close-up.  He'd felt much the same way about the boat when he had gone on an oceanic cruise, but to a far lesser extent.  You could have fit ten oceangoing cruise ships into the body of this monster.

“Hey, Mister?"

Dan looked down at the young boy, whose face was riddled with curiosity.  “Yes?"

“Why isn't there anything out there?"  He held out a well-worn map of the spaceport. “See?  It makes a big circle. “ He lowered his voice so his parents couldn't overhear. “They told me it was because of the rocket motors blowing everything up, but I don't think that's right."

“May I answer your question?" Bo asked, as gently as he could manage.  The boy said nothing, but after pushing his glasses up on his nose he looked at Bo expectantly.

Unfurling the boy's plastic-coated map, Bo pointed out the jump port, which was indicated by a red dot in the center surrounded by a barren circle.    Four roads cut the circle into perfect quadrants, but other than that the map was bare.  Even the pine forest directly to the south of the port had a perfect arc cut out of it.  “This is the port, right?"  The boy nodded in agreement.

“The shaded area around the port is called the dead zone," Bo explained, “it's there for a reason. See how the port's at the bottom of this big depression?  Like a bowl? That's so there's no place to hide anywhere inside this 25 kilometer, circle.  If some crazy person tried to hurt the ship, there's plenty of warning so the police can stop them."

The boy looked up to Bo's face, apparently oblivious to the myriad physical differences between them. “They can't stop everything," the boy said, somberly.

Bo looked at the boy for a moment, then allowed, “Sure, it's not absolutely impossible, but nobody's made it through in almost fifty years.  They must know what they're doing, right?"

The boy looked uncertain for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders and accepted Bo's logic.  “I guess."

“The border's closely monitored, and the only people allowed in or out are on one of the four roads.  Anyone else gets either intercepted or blasted, depending on how crazy they're acting."  When the boy didn't look bored, he continued. “From the security station on the roof of the port, they can monitor over three hundred square miles."

“What if they come in from above?"  the child asked.

"Air traffic is prohibited for fifty kilometers," Bo explained. "That's why you had to take one of the four main roads instead of just flying in. Nothing over twenty feet off the ground makes it through."

“Huh."  The boy looked as if he could think of no further questions to ask, so Bo carefully folded his map and handed it back to him.  

The boy looked up as if to thank the varius, but his eyes widened, sliding past Bo's face to something in the glass skylight overhead.  “Whoa..."

Bo and Dan turned to see what had captured his attention, and were equally awestruck by the  sight of the leviathan ship growing closer.  Even at this distance, it took up half the sky.

“Whoa..." Dan echoed, using his hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun.

Bo grinned at his mate's excitement and pulled him close.  “Babe," he said into Dan's ear, “ I think your ride's here."