The warmth of his greeting was not influenced by his realization that her arrival would probably cause his own lateness to pass with little comment. “Sis! Hey, this is swell I thought you were on Thule.”
“I was . . . until a few hours ago.” Rod tried to shake hands; his sister gathered him in a bear hug and bussed him on the mouth, squeezing him against the raised ornaments of her chrome corselet. She was still in uniform, a fact that caused him to think that she had just arrivedon her rare visits home she usually went slopping around in an old bathrobe and goahead slippers, her hair caught up in a knot. Now she was still in dress armour and kilt and had dumped her side arms, gauntlets, and pluined helmet on the floor.
She looked him over proudly. “My, but you’ve grown! You’re almost as tall as I am.”
“I’m taller.”
“Want to bet? No, don’t try to wiggle away from me; I’ll twist your arm. Slip off your shoes and stand back to back.”
“Sit down, children,” their father said mildly. “Rod, why were you late?”
“Uh . . .” He had worked out a diversion involving telling about the examination coming up, but he did not use it as his sister intervened.
“Don’t heckle him, Pater. Ask for excuses and you’ll get them. I learned that when I was a sublieutenant.”
“Quiet, daughter. I can raise him without your help.” Rod was surprised by his father’s edgy answer, was more surprised by Helen’s answer: “So? Really?” Her tone was odd.
Rod saw his mother raise a hand, seem about to speak, then close her mouth. She looked upset. His sister and father looked at each other; neither spoke. Rod looked from one to the other, said slowly, “Say, what’s all this?”
His father glanced at him. “Nothing. We’ll say no more about it. Dinner is waiting. Coming, dear?” He turned to his wife, handed her up from her chair, offered her his arm.
“Just a minute,” Rod said insistently. “I was late because I was hanging around the Gap.”
“Very well. You know better, but I said we would say no more about it.” He turned toward the lift.
“But I wanted to tell you something else, Dad. I won’t be home for the next week or so.”
“Very well eh? What did you say?”
“I’ll be away for a while, sir. Maybe ten days or a bit longer.”
His father looked perplexed, then shook his head. “Whatever your plans are, you will have to change them. I can’t let you go away at this time.”
“But, Dad”
“I’m sorry, but that is definite.”
“But, Dad, I have to!”
“No.”
Rod looked frustrated. His sister said suddenly, “Pater, wouldn’t it be well to find out why he wants to be away?”
“Now, daughter”
“Dad, I’m taking my solo survival, starting tomorrow morning!”
Mrs. Walker gasped, then began to weep. Her husband said, “There, there, my dear!” then turned to his son and said harshly, “You’ve upset your mother.”
“But, Dad, I. . .” Rod shut up, thinking bitterly that no one seemed to give a hoot about his end of it. Mter all, he was the one who was going to have to sink or swim. A lot they knew or
“You see, Pater,” his sister was saying. “He does have to be away. He has no choice, because”
“I see nothing of the sort! Rod, I meant to speak about this earlier, but I had not realized that your test would take place so soon. When I signed permission for you to take that course, I had, I must admit, a mental reservation. I felt that the experience would be valuable later when and if you took the course in college. But I never intended to let you come up against the final test while still in high school. You are too young.
Rod was shocked speechless. But his sister again spoke for him. “Fiddlesticks!”
“Eh? Now, daughter, please remember that”
“Repeat fiddlesticks! Any girl in my company has been up against things as rough and many of them are not much older than Buddy. What are you trying to do, Pater? Break his nerve?”