As usual when Benjamin returned to his station in the command center the first thing he did was, look at the baseball that was standing on a wallpanel in the corner of the room. It had belonged to his great grandfather, who had been a passionate player.

“Sir, there is an automated message in the system. It is adressed to the Admiral in charge, to be read two years before arrival on RV-p296.” First officer Csilla Gere handed him a tablet. For some reason she did not like to use glasses, claiming that it disconnected people from their surroundings.

“From the cultural heritage foundation of earth.” He read aloud, raising his eyebrows. Csilla shrugged her shoulders, turned away back to her station.

Rather intrigued by a letter from the past, dated at a time when his great grandfather was still swinging the bat, he read through the lines.

“Gere! Bring up the passenger list of the cryo department. See if you can find a certain gentleman by the name of Alfred Hummington.”

“Positive. He’s in the cryogenic segment here on subalpha.”

“Prepare for revival.” He turned the display on the tablet off and left the room.

From the command center he walked down the hall to the tube, entered a cab after waiting for a moment, pondering the implications of the letter and Mr. Hummington’s tasks. Benjamin’s husband would not like that he was about to spend less time at home with him an their adopted children. On alpha he wandered to the lecture he knew that would be held by George Fuller.

Either the students didn’t notice him, or they didn’t mind that the Admiral was attending the last few minutes of their class.

“Hey sweetie.” George smiled after class was dismissed. “Hey.” Ben smiled back. “I came here because of ill news.” He waved with the tablet. Frowning George sat down behind his desk. “Work?”

Sitting down on the desk Benjamin turned the tablet back on. “Sadly, yes. But unusual work.” Wordless he handed the tablet with the opened letter to his husband.

Reading silently George slowly wrinkled his forehead.

“That will be interesting. You could’ve called.”

“And miss seeing you? No chance.” Winking he took the tablet back into his hands. “No word about this to anyone. In fact you never saw this letter.”

Without words George conveyed to his husband that he didn’t know what he was talking about, then sent him off before the next lecture was due.

“Sir, Mr. Hummington is revived, and ready. Repairs on the reservoir have commenced, but the technicians say damage is more extensive than initially thought.” What a greeting, ‘Good morning’ would’ve sufficed. “Thank you Gere. Join me in the infirmary, will you?” He turned on his heel, a short glance to the baseball.

Alfred Hummington was an elderly man, with a trimmed mustache and greying, receding hair. The way he behaved conveyed that he was british, it became even more apparent when he spoke. Benjamin was astonished, over the last generations aboard the Destiny dialects have watered down, never had he encountered a living breathing human being with such a distinct dialect.

“What will you be doing exactly, now that you are awake?” Benjamin sat down in the uncomfortable chair that was at Hummington’s bedside, Csilla was left to stand.

“Inaugurations mostly, Admiral. My duties also encompass an inventory of a few items in a sealed compartment on the subgamma ring, but the inaugural duties take precedence.” A bit confused Benjamind looked to Csilla, who only shrugged her shoulders. The letter spoke of heritage, history, cultural important work to be done in order to preserve those cultures from oblivion.

“Inaugurations?”

“If the people involved are willing of course. We, well, I, know that the ruling body of the new colony is strictly democratic, yet, several people had approached the heritage foundation with explicit wishes.” What a non-answer. “Whom will you be inaugurating?”

“Heirs to the thrones of england, thailand, norway, japan, belgium. Shall I list them all?” Benjamin felt as if his jaw had dropped.

Uncomfortable with the thought of having royalty back in their society, he exhaled. “To what end? There will be no monarchy. Not even a purely representative one. The heirs you speak of, have no domains. No court. All you would do, is raise them above the others, and then they’d have an uncomfortable clash with reality. That they are just humans, like everyone else. No privileges, no court, no domain. No thrones.”

For a moment Alfred paused. “I see your point. But, don’t they deserve to know about their heritage? Where they came from?”

“They do. But why isn’t that information on their records?”

With a sigh Alfred sat up straight in his bed. “To do exactly what you said. So they will not be pampered royals without courts, domains, rules and thrones, but ordinary humans. Still their grandfathers and grandmothers had been placed here, because they, as much as you may dislike it, are part of our culture.”

It was Benjamin who had to pause for a moment. “Alright! You can get to work with the inventory of the sealed compartment, and you can start talks with the descendants of your heirs, but do not inagurate them. Do not tell them of their secret heritage!”

It would be a long session with the governors. Or several.

One thing he disliked about being the Admiral was the politics involved with that position. But, he had gathered from the journals and logs from other Admirals on Destiny and the other ships, he was not alone in this. They all disliked the political hick hack with the governors.

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