“There’s Got to be a Morning After” or Does There? Rock Crazy The Morning After With a Bi-Polar Wife
The next morning, they reported for
their flight to Rockton. They approached security for MSC, the Moon Shuttle
Corporation, and Scott set Katie’s bag on the scale first. They had argued when
she wanted to pack their wedding holo-cube. It would have put her over the
weight limit, and she doubted that would make any difference. Well, okay, half
a kilo. She thought fifty kilos was probably a ball-park figure. Scott didn’t
know that she was over the weight limit. She’d snuck the holo-cube in after
they weighed their luggage. She also snuck a holo-cube of each of their families into
his bag.
“Welcome to MSC
Flight 270.”
The attendant was a
real person, not just a computer terminal. Katie supposed people traveling to
Rockton got first-class treatment. The attendant looked at their Katie’s ticket
and then at the weight read-out.
“You’re half a kilo
over your weight limit,” she said.
Scott glared at
Katie.
“Yes, well I’m sure
the fine can’t be that large for half a kilo,” Katie replied. “We can afford
it.”
“Katie…” Scott said.
“Anything over fifty
kilos must be shipped as cargo, not luggage. We’ve already calculated the mass/weight
for this flight. If you want to ship this as cargo, it’ll cost fifteen hundred
credits, and we’ll hold it for…” She checked a schedule. “Friday, the
fifteenth’s flight. All of our flights this week are at capacity.”
“Fifteen hundred
credits for half a kilo!” Katie’s voice rose. “That’s a rip-off! It’s because
you have a monopoly on the Moon run. I demand to see your supervisor.”
“Katie!” Scott’s
voice echoed across the terminal. He lowered his voice to a deadly whisper. “I
warned you not to over-pack.”
“If you want to
lighten your luggage and ship something home, we have a kiosk right over
there.”
The attendant
indicated a repacking station. Scott grabbed their suitcases, and they left the
line. When they got to the repacking station, he opened her suitcase and pulled
out the offending holo-cube, his cheeks flushing.
“I am not giving up
our wedding holo,” Katie said.
“No, but you’re
giving up something.” He pulled out one of her vacuum bags—the one with the
sweaters—and hesitated. For a minute, she thought he was going to toss the
entire bag. She was fuming as Scott opened her carefully packed vac-bag and
extracted a sweater. He left the holo-cube out, as well. She opened her mouth
to say something, but his eyes were hard. The protest died before she even
formed it.
He put the bag on the
scale, and it was light enough. He sealed the vac-bag, then closed her suitcase
and weighed his own. It was over by a kilo. He opened it and pulled out the
holo-cubes of their parents. He didn’t say a word as he packed the offending
items into a shipping box. She stood there mute as he addressed a label to his
parents, paid the postage, and re-closed his bag. They went back to the counter
and stood at the back of the line. It was quite long, and no-one joined the
line behind them. They would be the last to board the shuttle.
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