Glen’s flight arrived at Nostradamus Airport, Paris, to visit his son. It had been over seven years since he had last seen him. John didn’t stop at any of the airport facilities, but instead he immediately went and found the nearest city transit transporter booth. This took him straight to Rue Alcide Vellard, Bobigny where Andromeda du Astra now lived with her mother and his son, Iain. This was John’s first visit to this house and he found that it was located on a narrow street in a leafy district. He walked past a school where Iain was probably studied, and also some rather ugly concrete tower blocks from the 21st century. Andromeda now lived with her mother, Delphine. Glen and Delphine had met briefly before and did not get along, so Glen wondered how he would get through the next day and remain calm.

After a short walk, Glen found the correct address. It was a modern block of apartments that looked out of place among the old brick and stone houses to either side. He opened an ancient metal gate and walked up to the front door. He had to get his PaDD out again because he had forgotten the flat number. He checked and remembered it was flat 5. He found the buzzer and realised that it was actually marked “D. du Astra.” Here goes, he thought as he pressed the button.

There was no answer but the door swished open and John went inside. He walked into a surprisingly well-lit hallway; sunlit from large windows above, and decorated with Tellurian art. The architecture was an odd mix of modern and old. The staircase looked ancient and probably restored from an older building. He began to climb the stairs, wishing he had packed his backpack more lightly.

There were no flats on the ground floor and only two on the first landing. He silently cursed the architects who hadn’t planned an elevator. However, the second flight of steps was shorter and on this landing there were three more doors. John looked around to the door marked with a number 5. Before he even had time, a door opened and he saw Delphine.

“Est-ce que ce sera votre mauvais quart d’heure,” she asked. Glen smiled, but he had no idea what she had said. Something about the time? Was he late? He knew that he would never live up to this woman’s expectations in any case.

“Andromeda out… one moment… soon return! You wait!,” Delphine said and indicated a sofa. Glen took off his backpack and thanked her. He put the backpack on the floor and sat down. He had never though to bring a UT with him. This was Earth after all. Everyone spoke Federation Standard. Everyone except Delphine.

He did have his communicator with him somewhere in the bottom of the backpack. He had no choice about that. If the Merrimack needed him then the ship came first. That had been the story of his life. It was the reason he was here; why Andromeda had left the Merrimack, left him, and taken Iain.

Delphine had left him alone in the room. The time passed slowly as he waited. The room was so quiet after life aboard a starship. A short and distant siren sounded. Also distant, was some kind of engine, and closer in the room was a ticking clock; an actual mechanical clock! He looked around for the first time. The sofa was threadbare with some kind of handmade throw hung across the back. It was dull and grey now, but when new it must have been made in vivid colours. The furniture was antique. Glen thought it was made of real softwood; probably pine. There were some original paintings hung on the walls. They were quite good but amateur, and they showed country scenes with old-fashioned occupations like carpentry and livestock farming. There was even a bookcase with some real hardback books. He couldn’t make out the titles but he had rarely seen real books before.

The apartment did not fit with his memory of Andromeda. She had been young at heart, fun and outgoing. This room was designed by an older person with conservative tastes who rarely went outside.

John Glen, CO