A Spaceman

Chapter 11--A Marvelous Girl

"It looks nice."

"Mum, you saw it yesterday you don't have to act so pleased," I say, pretending not to lean against the counter because I can't balance as well on my replacement legs as I like to pretend I can.

"It is nice, nicer than I've ever lived in," she says, taking my hands because she knows I'm unsteady.

"Would you like it?" I ask. I would rather live under a bridge. Because there are eighteen flight of STAIRS up to this flat and I am too damn proud to take the elevator but I also can't walk up stairs well with these horrible not-my-legs.

"Quentin, you are living here, at least till you find someplace that better suits you," she says, petting my cheek like I'm eight and just lost a football game. Except I never played football. And when she was comforting me it was always more of a clinging and not letting go sort of thing.

"Yeah, looks that way---is this really all the things I have?" I ask, looking at the few duffel bags of stuff she brought yesterday from my barracks.

"That was all they gave me---is there anything missing?" she asks, worriedly.

"No, no, I'm sure there's not, it's fine---sorry you only took a half day at work, probably, we should eat something," I say, looking around.

"It got you some food yesterday, I wasn't sure what you would want," she says, nervously. She feels like she has to take care of me now but she knows the last thing I want is that.

"Anything not shrink wrapped in tin is fine," I say, smiling for her, "Preferably no milk."

"Why not?"

"Longish story I don't want to go into."

**

"Are you nice to your cadet?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't think you have an operating definition of nice," Tess says, knowingly.

"Oh, define it for me?" I ask, with a grin. It's early morning still, and she hasn't got classes till later and I gave Starr lots of things to do to keep him occupied. So I'm still at my flat with Tess. Even as much as we communicate when I'm in space she's still starved for my attention.

"To be nice: to perform acts which lead only to reinforcement through witnessing the pleasure of another sentient being," she says, slowly, as I lift her into the air. She's helping me exercise, I typically make her do morning stretches with me but because of the pressurization sickness I have to do more than usual. Right now I'm doing leg lifts with her balanced on my legs. Which is not as impressive as it sounds, my offspring is rather small.

"Very good, why would you care if I did these things?" I ask.

"I think that it would be good practice. I practice being nice," she says.

"Do you gain reinforcement from witnessing brief pleasures of others?" I ask.

"No, but I am aware I should and it may lead to reinforcement in other areas if people believe I'm nice, they will in turn provide more tangible reinforcement," she says, "Do you gain reinforcement from being nice to me?"

"What makes you say I'm nice to you?" I ask, pushing her off my legs and onto the other exercise mat. She giggles as I let her roll off, shaking her dark hair out of her face. her smile. Her smile isn't like mine that bothers me.

"You appear to gain reinforcement from my happiness," she says, flopping across my legs.

"I don't. I gain reinforcement from you, simply existing," I say, untangling her hair with my fingers.