Page 13 of Proslo

“Kunnarskyn?”

Proslo held up his arm, showing me his implant. “Ah. That’s like a mini tablet in your arm huh?”

“Among other things,” he said, nodding.

I blew out an excited breath. This was happening! I was getting married and going to Guam, which was exciting all by itself. I’d never been outside of my home state and look at me now. My life truly had changed on a dime.

8

PROSLO

Was I pushing for too much, too fast? Perhaps, but then if we had not been a match, she’d already have set into motion these very same things, apart from our wedding and honeymoon. All I’d done was help set her on a path alongside me that put us six weeks or so ahead. Thanks to the treaty and our program’s in-depth screening process, anyone applying jumped the line. Of course, there were those who didn’t get a match and had a flag placed on their file but those were exceedingly few and far between. In fact, when someone went to book an appointment, they immediately had a thorough background check run by Xeranos for criminal history and such. Depending on what their troubled history revealed, they might not even get as far as getting said appointment.

“I need to find a dress!” she suddenly said, her eyes wide with worry. “Do I even want a white poofy dress? Or, since it’s on the beach, wear a sarong?”

She turned beseeching eyes towards me.

“Whatever you choose, you will be radiant.”

She snorted and pointed a finger at me. “Nice try, mister, but you aren’t side-stepping me like that.”

“Perhaps if you come up with a few ideas and show them to me?” I suggested helpfully.

“You have no idea about fashion, do you?”

I shook my head mutely. “I’m usually in uniform,” I reminded her.

She shook her head in dismay. “That’s a cop out, but valid so I’ll give it to you.”

“You are giving me something for my response?” I replied, wrinkling my brow.

“Um, no. That means I’ll concede your point.”

Ah. An idiom, rather like the Commander’s ‘doohickey’, ‘dumaflache’, and ‘thing gummy’. I’d thought he was making a huge joke until I heard Barney Fife use ‘doohickey’ in an episode of Andy Griffith at the suggestion of one of my junior medics. The show was full of useful tips, such as bringing chocolates and candy for your mate.

“I’m going to go sit down on the sofa and see what’s available in that Fleet store place.”

Thank the stars. I really had zero ideas as to what would be appropriate for the occasion. I hoped she found me something suitable as well.

I left Pumpkin to his explorations of my study and our bedroom to go take stock of what we were lacking. The aforementioned sofa was a standard bachelor’s quarters issue which we could return if she had something more suitable, unless she wanted two. A quick look in the kitchen revealed no dishes or cookware, but that was fine. The replicator served the food on individual plates and provided appropriate cutlery if you asked it to when choosing your meal. We could also dine out or order food delivery and again, everything we needed would be included. We’d never have to cook if we didn’t want to.

A chiming sound broke the silence and I held a hand up to let her know that I’d get it. As I’d expected, a crew of casual workers stood there with Pumpkin’s supplies. I ushered them in and they made quick work putting it where Betty told them to.

“Your household goods are en-route and will be here in three hours,” one of them said before saluting me and ducking back out the door.

“Guess it’s not an express,” she said wryly.

I shook my head. “It’ll be a cargo transport, so not as slow as a regular mixed transport but not as fast as an express.”

“Ah, well, I guess tomorrow we’ll be unpacking stuff,” she sighed.

“They do that for us,” I told her. “We just have to tell them where to put it.”

Her cheeks pinkened. “I’ll unpack my own clothes, thank you!”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

“Good. I hope Mrs. Titchmarsh was the one who packed my undies.”