Rowing machines.
In the corner, a young woman with brunette hair held her fists up at a mannequin. She bounced around on the spot, ready to attack it.
A holograph of a man’s face appeared on the silver head of the mannequin. The woman squinted at it and clenched her right fist.
"Stop looking at me," she screamed at the mannequin’s face. Her body lifted into the air and roundhouse-kicked the mannequins head. The piece of plastic exploded and bounced off the wall, leaving fine debris remnants to float to the ground.
"Bonnie?" Tripp shouted across the room. "Are you fit?"
She lowered her head and slowed her breathing. "I’m fine," she said, socking the headless mannequin in the gut with anger.
"Whoa," Jamie stopped in his tracks, afraid to go anywhere near her. "Who’s she?"
Bonnie twisted her head to the young boy and flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Who are you?"
"This is Jamie Anderson and his mother, Emily," Tripp said.
‘Hi,’ Jamie offered, innocently.
Bonnie took a towel from the wall holder and wiped the sweat from her brow. "So?"
"Their cat won the Star Cat Project." Tripp took the carry case from Emily and presented it to Bonnie. "Here she is. Jelly."
Bonnie looked through the bars with a blatant nonchalance. "Oh, cool."
Jelly meowed at her from inside the case. Bonnie’s demeanor changed the moment she clapped eyes on the animal.
"Can I hold her?" she asked.
"Sure."
Bonnie opened the cage. Jelly relished the opportunity to jump out into her hands. She nestled quite comfortably in her arms and clawed at the woman’s fingers. "Cute cat. What’s her name?"
"Jelly," Jamie said. "I’m her human."
"Cool."
Jelly’s purring was so loud that it could be heard from the other end of the room.
"I’m Dr. Bonnie Whitaker," she smiled. "Opera Beta’s physicist."
"Why were you punching that plastic thing?" Jamie asked, to the amusement of Tripp and Bonnie.
"Oh, just getting some exercise. Do you know Jitsaku?”
“No? What is it?”
“It’s a fusion of Jijitsu and Kung Fu. You use your enemy’s power against them.” She looked for a reaction from Tripp. "We have to stay fit and exercise otherwise we’ll slow down. Shame we can’t do the same for our mental state, isn’t it?"
Tripp grinned at Jamie. "Bonnie, why don’t you show young Jamie, here, your special feature?"
"Sure."
She passed Jelly to Jamie and unbuckled her inner-suit pants. Emily widened her eyes, expecting the worst.
"Actually, it’s better if you don’t—"
"—No, it’s not what you think."
Bonnie stepped out of her pants. Metal bolts and wires adorned her right leg. She lifted her thigh and showed off the unusual amalgam of joints and connectors.
"Oh wow," Jamie said with awe, "What happened to you?"
"I don’t remember, exactly. When I was a girl I got an infection. It started in my foot and spread to my joints, here." She pointed at her hip.
Her left leg was perfectly fine, and perfectly formed. Jamie’s attention was drawn to what lay between them behind her underwear.
"Hey, kid. Look at my leg, not my crotch."
“Sorry.”
“I think you may have a new admirer, Bonnie,’ Tripp joked and threw her a wink.
“Shut up.’ Bonnie lifted her right knee and wiggled it around. The mechanics whirred away under her fingertip. "Jamie, you see that?"
"Yes?"
She removed the lower half of her false leg. "I can take it off and replace it with various things. It’s made of titanium, a bit like the claws we’ll be putting on Jelly, here."
"What?"
"Ah," Tripp tried to hush his colleague, "Yes, we haven’t quite gotten around to discussing that just yet."
"I’m sorry," Emily butted in, full of confusion. "Did you say you’re going to be putting Titanium on Jelly?"
"Oh," Bonnie reattached her leg and pulled up her pants. "Do they not know?"
"They do now," Tripp shook his head, angry at having been put on the spot.
"What’s this about?" Emily took Jelly from Jamie’s arms and cradled her, "You’re not going to interfere with her, are you?"
"It’s a small procedure, but a necessary one," Tripp explained. "When we’ve reached our destination, Wool will perform what’s known as a cuticle restructure."
"What’s that?"
Bonnie buckled her belt and pressed a button on the wall. "Her claws will be removed and replaced with a set of Titanium ones, along with a thumb attachment."
Jelly looked at the humans in the room, understanding very little of the surgical proposition.
"What?" Emily grew nervous. "No, I don’t think so."
"It’s a perfectly straightforward operation. Of course, it’ll be reversed when she returns to Earth."
"No," Emily turned around and made for the door. "Come on, Jamie. We’re leaving. I knew this was too good to be true."
"I’m afraid you’ve already agreed to it," Tripp said. "In the contract, the stipulation under enhanced modification."
Emily had heard enough. "No, I’m afraid not. We’re going. Come on, Jamie."
"But, mom—"
"—No buts." Emily stormed out of the Fit Room, looking for the ship’s exit. "This is terriful. No way to treat a cat. They should be locked up."
Jamie chased after his mother as she left the room, leaving Bonnie looking a little worse for wear.
"Sorry."
"Great," Tripp said, sarcastically. "Thanks for that, Bonnie. If it weren’t for your big mouth, they’d have never known."
"I’m sorry," Bonnie said. "I forgot."
Tripp ran after the Andersons with his voice lowered. "Yeah, that’s your whole problem."
"Excuse me," Emily asked a technician in the hub corridor. "Where is the way out, please?"
He pointed at the far end of the walkway. "About a quarter of a mile down there, to section Z."
"Thanks."
She grabbed Jamie’s hand and sprinted down the corridor with Tripp in pursuit.
"Emily, listen—"
"—No, leave us alone. The whole thing is off."
"No, you don’t understand," Tripp pushed past the technician. "Please, stop. Let me set your mind at rest."
Emily halted in her tracks, intending to make a point in full view of the technicians. "No. Let me set your mind at rest, okay?"
Tripp slowed down and nodded, "Okay?"
"There is no way on Earth I am going to allow you to interfere with or modify my cat."
"It won’t happen on Earth, in fact," Tripp hoped his clever joke might change her mind.
It didn’t. It had the very opposite effect.
"Are you taking me seriously?"
"Of course," Tripp said. "It’s a procedure we must put in place. Please allow me to explain."
"You’ve got thirty seconds."
A crowd of technicians couldn’t help but listen in as they pretended to work.
"Jelly is the first cat on a manned mission to Saturn. She can’t defend herself or perform basic procedural commands as she is. The infinity claws are a basic insurance policy for us and for her."
"What utter lessense—"
"—No, Emily, please. Stop talking and listen to me to me very carefully. We take Jelly’s safety and well-being extremely seriously. I know it sounds strange. Bizarre, even. The whole removal of her claws sounds painful. I can assure you it isn’t."
"You guys are sick."
Tripp sighed, nevertheless determined to make his point. "You saw what happened to Bisoubisou, yesterday? An allergic reaction?"
"Yes, it was terriful."
"Exactly. The primary reason why we couldn’t take her on. Jelly responded well to the temporary set yesterday during the finals. There’s no danger. She’ll be absolutely fine."
"Mom?" Jamie looked up
at her, "She’ll be okay."
Emily considered her position on the matter. The look in her little boy’s eye was reassuring - to a point. There was simply no way Jamie would agree to the whole venture if he thought Jelly would come to any harm.
Then again, he was only five-years-old.
Emily looked Tripp dead in the eyes, wanting her arm twisted once and for all.
"No pain?" she reaffirmed.
"No. None whatsoever. I can have Wool walk you through the procedure—"
"—And she returns to normal once she’s back, right?"
"That’s right."
Emily huffed and took a final look at Jelly. In a strangely ironic twist she dug her claws into Emily’s arm, offering her approval.
Chapter 7
"Welcome to the Control Deck," Tripp said. "This is where we operate Opera Beta. All the communications are conducted from this area, here."
Tripp walked Jamie over to a huge bank of screens and buttons. An impressive sight for such young eyes. It resembled a video game console with ample opportunity for fun.
"Wow, can I sit in the seat?" Jamie ran over to the swivel chair parked in the middle of the unit.
"Sure. Please don’t touch anything, though."
Tripp offered Emily a smile of contrition. He hoped that the debate they’d had in the corridor hadn’t shown USARIC in too bad a light.
His attention was drawn to the flight deck. Dimitri Vasilov talked to two men Tripp didn’t recognize.
"Jamie?"
"Yes, Tripp?"
"Over there, where those three men are. That’s the flight deck."
"Wow."
Jamie stood up and jumped on the spot. "That’s where you fly the spaceship?"
"Yes," Tripp whistled at the three men. "Hey, Dimitri."
The elderly man turned around, surprised to see that he and his colleagues had company. "Oh, yes. Of course. Hello, Tripp."
Dimitri walked with the two men over to the communications deck. "Tripp, your timing is impeccable. I’d like you to meet our new intake. Communications Officer Tor Klyce and Engineer Baldron Landaker."
"Ah, yes," Tripp shook their hands in turn. "I thought you were due to arrive tomorrow?"
"Good to meet you, finally." Tor Klyce, a thin man in his early thirties, spoke with a clear mid-western American accent. "Yes, we left Minneapolis Two a day early to run a few diagnostics on The Manuel."
"You know what USARIC is like. Always ahead of schedule," Baldron clocked Jamie and his mother - and the cat in the carry case. He seemed perturbed by their presence. "What’s this? Are we allowing civilians aboard our vessels, now?"
"Oh, no. Not quite," Tripp explained. "Jamie and Emily are the owners of Jelly, here. The winner of the Star Cat Project."
"Okay," Baldron made eyes at the cat as it sniffed around the plastic bars. "One in a million, right?"
"Something like that," Tripp smiled. "She’s a very special addition to Opera Beta."
"It’s ridiculous," Baldron cleared his throat and looked at Dimitri. "Sending a cat into space. I’m sorry, Jamie, but it’s ridiculous. Please excuse me."
Baldron walked off, leaving Tripp, Jamie, Emily, and Tor lost for words, "I’ll be with Wool if you need me."
"I’m sorry about my colleague," Tor walked over to the communications deck, "He’s a bit jet-lagged from the flight. He’s very concerned about the logistics of the whole cat thing."
"How’s Manuel doing? Retained all his faculties?"
"He’s fine," Tor punched a few buttons on the panel, "Fifteen brontobytes of data need to be reconciled. He booted up about an hour and seems bright and perky, which is a good sign. You want to meet him?"
"What is a… man-well?" Jamie asked.
"The autopilot. A veritable data bank of knowledge," Tor explained, pointing at the screen in front of him. "To activate him, all you need to do is click your fingers and say his name."
"Okay."
"Did you ever see Fawlty Towers?" Tripp smirked. "That old TV show from the twentieth century?"
"What is a TV show?" Jamie asked. "Is it like a screen?"
"Never mind," Tor chuckled. "Just click your fingers and say his name."
Jamie held up his hand and snapped his fingers. "Manuel?"
Snap.
A holograph of a book appeared in the middle of the room, floating on the spot, flapping its pages from end to end. "Good pre-afternoon. How may I assist you?"
Jamie blinked at the transparent object floating in the air. "What do I—"
"—Ask it anything you like. It has all the answers."
Jamie looked around, taking the sheer wonder of the deck into his mind. He drew a blank for the first time in his inquisitive, young life.
"Uh, why are you called Manuel?"
Manuel sped over to Jamie and opened up its pages, displaying a black and white image of Pascal D’Souza.
"My full name is The Manuel. I was put together by my creator, the late Pascal D’Souza. Originally, I was referred to as The Manual, however, when they loaded me into USARIC’s mainframe the first time, an error was made. As you can see."
The picture of Pascal D’Souza moved like a recorded video. He bopped his fellow scientist on the back in anger.
"Why isn’t The Manual responding to my commands?"
His colleague hit a button on his computer and pointed to the erroneous letter in the manual’s name. "There’s been a slip up. Someone must have pressed E when they meant to press A."
Pascal shook his head in incredulity. "So we’ve christened our hyper-intelligent autopilot and data bank as… The Manuel? What is this, some kind of joke?"
"I’m sorry, Dr D’Souza—"
The image paused, allowing Manuel the flip over by one page.
Manuel’s holograph turned to Jamie. "I am able to process close to one billion commands at any given time."
"Wow, that’s a lot."
Tor chuckled to himself. "We were just completing Manuel’s assessment. Would you like to see it?"
"Yes, please," Jamie said.
"Manuel?" Tor asked. "What does USARIC stand for?"
"It won’t stand for anything," Manuel said. "They are a very stern company."
Emily and Tripp smirked at the crude joke.
"That’s not that I meant and you know it," Tor said. "Please, give me the correct answer."
"It was just a joke."
"I know, give me the correct answer."
"USARIC stands for the United States and Russian Intergalactic Confederation."
"Correct," Tor pressed a button on the communications panel. Manuel’s holograph lit up. "Tell me the genesis of the company, please?"
"Certainly. USARIC was formed in the year 2100, shortly after the disbanding of NASA."
"Correct." Tor winked at Jamie. "Good, isn’t he?
"Yes. I want one when we get back home.”
"Ha," Tor punched in some data on the comms panel. "Manuel?"
"Yes, Tor?"
"Can you explain to our guest why USARIC was formed?"
"Certainly," Manuel opened his pages and whizzed to the end of his book. Footage of a space shuttle launching from its pad played out.
The Manuel
A Brief History Of USARIC
Pg 808,107
(exposition dump #157/b)
The United States and Russian Intergalactic Confederation (USARIC) is the result of a convergence of two states - the US state of Alaska, and the north-eastern territory of Chukotka in Russia. The Bering Strait lies in the middle, separating the two nations, which lent its name to the treaty drawn between the two nations.
The two states amalgamated to form Chukaska, across the start and end point of the international time zone.
In order to allay a second cold war, the presidents of both countries agreed that the two states merge jurisdictions, thereby forming an alliance.
The switch took place in 2087, two years after the Bering Treaty was formed. In 2088, it was decided that the
two nations conform to a confederacy.
The result was the free movement of people from both the US and Russia into both jurisdictions.
In five years, both economies saw a surge in productivity. As a result, wages kept in line with inflation. Companies set up shop globally, at various points in both countries to quell the cost of distribution.
The most remarkable effect was the formation of USARIC. NASA was summarily disbanded. Its protocols and legislature was reconfigured to merge both the US and Russia’s efforts to explore outer space as one entity. In effect, any discoveries that were made would be shared equally. A combined space race, with certain caveats, if you will.
Two months after this formation, tragedy struck. Cape Canaveral in Florida disappeared, along with the rest of the state due to The Great Southern Flood of 2092. Four million people lost their lives and the nation lost its sunshine state. It proved to be an avoidable event. For the previous one hundred years, scientists had speculated that global warming would have this effect. The government chose not to listen.
Floridians fled to Texas, contributing to the density of that state’s populace.
On the recommendation of the governor at the time, the United States opted to split the state into North and South.
Despite the loss of Florida, The United States gained three states in the amalgamation of Chukaska and the division of Texas. Of course, the flag was redesigned to represent the fifty-two states and its convergence with Russia, hence the addition of the hammer (but not the familiar sickle, as it was deemed to be an outmoded tool.)
USARIC relocated their base to Cape Claudius in the state of South Texas.
Located on the southeast peninsula, it is the closest point to the equator that can launch vessels into space. One of the protocols in the Infinity Clause stipulates that no Russians may take part in any manned exploration. It was a stipend that caused no end of frustration to that particular nation—
"—Okay, that’s enough, Manuel," Tor clicked his fingers. "We don’t want to bore the poor boy, do we?"
Jamie blinked rapidly, his little mind going into overdrive. "Wow."
"Funny you should mention that, Tor," Manuel flipped his pages and landed toward the middle of the book. "In conjunction with Pure Genius, I have been conducting research on evolution since my reboot. My findings have been quite curious. Would you like to see them?"
Star Cat The Complete Series Page 10
