by Martin Tays
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Forever Endeavour, Amen: The Endeavour Trilogy
Trying Endeavour
Chapter 1
“Life is a long lesson in humility.”
James M. Barrie
Moses always hated this part.
It wasn’t the long drive in from the Oort cloud...
Well, alright, it was the long drive in from the Oort cloud.
Being the birthplace, cradle and parking lot of humanity, the Solar System was crowded. Very crowded.Enough so that Moses felt compelled to dump the warp drive out about two parsecs past where God dropped his overshoes and crank up the antimatter drive for the final run in to Earth.
And that took a long time.
☼
“Now, we are eventually going to reach Earth, right?”
“Whiner.” Moses sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, then turned to the speaker. “You know what, Sher? No. No, we’re not. Cath upgraded the drive to Xeno’s Engine; now we’re only going to be able to go halfway home at a time and therefore never reach it.”
Rafe glanced over from his hand of cards. “Wasn’t Xeno the one killed by a eagle borne turtle?”
“No, that was... Asch... Aesc...”Moses scratched his chin, looked off into the distance, then shrugged. “Yeah, sure, let’s go with Xeno. Xeno, I can pronounce.”
Doug, dummy for this round, drummed his fingers on the table, then spoke up. “Wait. What’s wrong with going halfway, then halfway again? Then you’re done. I mean...” He paused, then shrugged as punctuation.
Rafe looked back over. “No, Xeno was a philosopher who postulated that a arrow, when shot, only went halfway to its target. Then it goes halfway again, then halfway again... and therefore it never actually reaches its target at all.”
“Really? Huh.” Doug spread his hands and looked back toward Rafe. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing.”
“What?”
“I’ll bet you dollars to doughnuts he never actually went down to the range and stood in front of an archery target to test his theory.”
Rafe paused, then nodded in surprised agreement. “You know, that’s probably not an invalid bet.”
“I still don’t get it.” Sher said.
Moses glanced over at her and gestured Yiddishly. “Nu?”
“How could an eagle bear a turtle? Don’t eagles lay eggs?”
“Sher...” Moses paused, blinking noisily. He started to reply, then just gave up, turned and stared. Finally, he asked “Okay. Am I having you on, or or you having me on?”
Sher just grinned, Grouchoed her eyebrows, and went back to reading.
“Bridge to mess deck.” A vid window popped up in the middle of the cluster of tables, Mad’s beaming features evident.
“Mad! Thank God. Up to no good, I hope?” Moses set his cards down and replied cheerily to the image.
She grinned. “You’re that bored?”
“Let me put it this way: we’re discussing philosophy.”
“Oh. Oh, you poor, poor bastards. Have you gotten to ‘how many pinheads can dance on an angel?’”
He grinned. “Nope. But we have decided that Doug is in charge of the sheep dip.”
“I am? Oh, okay.” Doug glanced over from where he was sneaking a peek at Moses’ hand of cards. “Question: do sheep go better with ranch or french onion?”
“Talk to Mad. She’s the one whose uncle had the questionable relations with ‘em.”
Mad laughed. “Oh, no, there was no question involved. Unless you count ‘how did you manage to keep her hind legs in your wellies?’”
“Her?”
“Of course ‘her’. He wasn’t weird, or anything.”
“And just when I thought you’d couldn’t piss off Cath any more. As a side note... your family tree never actually branched, did it?”
“Straight as a pool cue. And perhaps we could stop with the obligatory banter and actually talk shop?”
Moses nodded amiably. “If we must. What’s up?”
Mad jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “They’ve finally noticed us.”
“Yes! And... “ Moses smacked the table, then winced and rubbed his hand absently while replying. “And about damn time, too. I assume we’ve received a transmission?”
“Well... technically, yes. We received a transmission like the Spartans received an arrow.”
“Ouch.” Moses replied. “So we’re to fight in the shade, I take it?” He paused a moment, then continued. “Okay, communicate in the shade?”
She waggled a hand in the air. “Eh. Metaphorically speaking, yeah. I suppose. I have...” Madeline glanced off to her right, “... two thousand, three hundred and forty seven discrete messages for you. A couple sound a mite urgent.”
“That’s Earth for you... nag, nag, nag. They’re aware, I suppose, that we’re still over four light minutes out?” Mad just cocked an eyebrow at him. “Sorry. I know. Duh. Any actual content to them?”
“Well, let’s see.” She glanced back to the list. “You’re under arrest. We’re under arrest. THEY’RE under arrest. Random people on the streets of Des Moines are under arrest, if I’ve read this correctly. Your dog’s under arrest, and possibly his fleas. You’re to be shot, hung, drawn, quartered, given a fair trial and then shot again. Oh, and you’re apparently somewhat funny looking.”
Ami floated into the vid window beside... well, technically, above Mad. “That one I argued about. You’re not somewhat funny looking. You’re...”
Moses held up his hand. “I know, I know. I’m quite funny looking.”
She made a disappointed face. “I need newer lines.”
He pointed toward Madeline. “Or to hang out with a better class of people.”
Ami smiled. “Better yet ― a better class of people with newer lines!”
Moses grinned. “That’d about cover it, I suppose. Now, do you think we could restore the conversation to its original tracks, or would you prefer to move it over to, say, Meso-American pot shard collecting?”
“Pot shards! Yay!!!”
“Shush.” Moses turned back to the amused Mad. “I suppose we’ve been given instructions?”
She nodded. “Quite explicit ones. First, amusingly enough after that ‘shush’, is to shut up. I mean completely. We’re ordered to communicate with no one other than approved United Earth officials under pain of... um, well, pain, I think.”
Moses winced. “The U.E. Oy. Fine. Whatever. Have we sent the ‘don’t shoot us, we’re pathetic’ transmission, yet?”
Madeline snorted. “Yes, John Crichton.”
“Wait.” In the vid screen and on the mess decks, Moses and Mad both looked over toward Ami. “Wasn’t John Crichton the Warlord of Mars?” She asked, confused.
“No. That was...” He paused to look at Mad, who just shrugged. “Well...”He finally said. “Okay. The show never gave us all of his back story, after all... but I’m gonna go with ‘no’, here. Pity. He would have been all over Dejah Thoris.”
“But we digress.” Mad interjected.
“But we digress.” Moses agreed, amiably. “Mess deck to maneuvering. Dude?” A new vid window popped up, out of which stared what could only be described as a two meter long weasel, with six legs, who builds starships.
“Yes, friend D’hude?” The weasel replied.
“It’s showtime.”
“Ah. I see.” S’Nhu-gli looked around in engineering. “Friend L’Heo is already down here, installing a... I think the word he used was ‘frammis.’” He looked puzzled. “What, exactly, is a frammis?”
“It’s... it’s a doohicky that was built by the lowest bidder.”
“I see. Perhaps I should arrange differe
nt transport home?”
Moses smiled. “What?And miss movie night?”
“Excellent point, friend M’Hoses.” S’Nhu-gli replied. “But I digress. I should be able to turn the watch over to him as soon as he emerges from the bilge. I will be...” He paused, looking at Moses inquiringly.
“Bridge.” Moses replied to the unspoken question.
“On the bridge shortly, then. Maneuvering out.” The window vanished.
Rafe looked over from behind his cards. “Moses, are you sure about this?”
“Yes. No. Maybe.” Moses paused, then shrugged. “I don’t know.”
All present, virtual or physical, spoke up in response. “Third base!”
“Everybody’s a comedian.” Moses looked over at Rafe and shrugged. “Seems the safest way to handle it, though. Once the toothpaste is out of the tube...”
“Then dental hygiene becomes much more problematic.”
“Shush.” Moses glared at Rafe. “And, as a side note, why do I have to use that word so often around here?” He paused, then looked at the others in the compartment. “Oh. Right. Because I’m surrounded by smart-asses.”
“That didn’t take you long to figure out.”
“Years of practice. Shut up.” He glanced over toward Rafe. “Better?”
“Shows you’re broadening your vocabulary, anyway.”
Moses shook his head. “Why is it I put up with you, again?”
Rafe smiled. “Chinese obligation.”
“Damn. Remind me to not save your life, next time.”
Moses’ former boss nodded in a show of seriousness. “I’ll make a note of it.”
“Good. Okay. The answer to your question, then, is that if we report solely to the U.E., then they will do everything possible to keep this quiet and contained and, well, manageable. Do we really want that?”
“No. No, we don’t.”
“Exactly. So what does that leave us?”
Sam, Rafe’s girlfriend and occasional jailer, spoke up for the first time. “With the communications equivalent of a fire-hose?”
Moses looked over at the last member of the card game quartet, nodding. “I, personally, would have gone with shotgun. But yeah, bingo. We need to make sure that nothing short of a nova would keep this information out of general circulation. Capisch?”
“Capisch? Thank you, Don Dorko. You gonna make ‘em an offer they can’t comprehend?”
“I know where you live, Rafe.”
“Yep. Three compartments over from you, and thank God. I’ll never have to listen to you snore again.”
“Go ahead.” Ami said from the bridge. “Rub it in.”
“I get no respect.”
“Nonsense.” Rafe replied, smiling, “You get all the respect you deserve.”
Moses mimed taking a shot to the heart, cracking up just as S’Nhu-gli appeared in the vid-window from the bridge. He looked over Ami’s shoulder, cocking his head in a surprisingly human way as he spoke. “So, friend M’Hoses, are we doing this -– how did you refer to it? Ah, yes -- this ‘thing’ now?”
He nodded. “Yep.We’re doing this ‘thing’, now. Be there is a second. Mess deck out.” The vid window vanished. Moses turned to his friends.
“Okay. Imma be up on the bridge. Thoughts, prayers, good intentions, whatever. Wish me ― wish us ― luck.”
“The last time I did that,” Rafe replied, dryly, “you stole my ship.”
“True. Your point?”
Rafe shrugged. “Making conversation.”
“And doing an excellent job of it, too. I’m gone.” Putting form to word, Moses went out of the hatch and half ran down the hab ring corridor toward the ladder up to the hub. He realized he was grinning, actually glad that the long wait was finally over.
Reaching the bridge, Moses took in the group waiting for him. Ami was in the overhead, clutching a hand-hold and grinning manically while her bright red ponytail drifted behind her. He grinned back at her. “I’ve finally figured it out. You’re either Lapis Lazuli or Lorelei Lee!”
“Yay! Wait. Yay?” She looked over at Cath, who was manning the helm. “Is that good?”
Cath shrugged. “Depends. Are you the type who would want to have group sex at twelve years old with the person you were cloned from?”
“What? No! Ew!”
Moses nodded. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Oh! Don’t forget that the person they were cloned from was just leaving on a trip through time in order to have sex with his own Mother. While, I might add, his quite juvenile self lay in a crib in the next room, where he was probably taking the opportunity to sleep, poop or both. He was a baby Lazarus 'Hole and a Heartbeat' Long, after all.”
“Oh. Oh, dear, God, no... EW.”
While Ami shuddered, S’Nhu-gli glided over and placed a forepaw on Moses’ shoulder. “There is a phrase you’ve used, before, that seems appropriate here.”
Moses glanced over. “And that would be... ?”
“’Stop poking the bear’.”
“Fair enough. We’ve got a phone call to make, anyway.”
“Indeed. Let us be about this.”
“Yeah.” Moses glanced around. “Captain’s chair? Makes the most sense.”
“Makes perfect sense.” Mad replied. “You’re the captain.”
He glanced over at her. “Did you mean that unironically?”
She nodded. “Surprisingly, yes.”
“Huh.”
“Don’t worry. I still think you’re a dork.”
“Thanks. That’s one thing off my mind.” He drifted over, put his feet under the catches and strapped himself into the central chair. S’Nhu-gli did the same, in the chair rigged for him just to one side.
Moses looked around at the crew present, took a deep breath, and spoke. “Okay. 3V, live broadcast plus record, embed Greenwich signal, all spectrum, max strength, tight zoom, two shot on hand signal, begin... now.”
He smiled and looked out into where a camera would be, had something so primitive still existed on board. “Howdy. My name is Moses Dunn, and I am broadcasting to you from the bridge of the stolen starship U.E.S.S. Endeavour. Attached to this stream is the mirrored feed from the Greenwich geostationary satellite, to prove that this is a real time broadcast.”
“Mankind was... we were...” He paused, then pointed at the unseen audience. “You were... meant to explore. It’s who we are. It’s what we are. And since the powers that be haven’t seen fit to do so, it was necessary to take drastic and somewhat dramatic measures to ensure that that occurred. We’ve been pathetically introspective too long. It was frankly getting kinda creepy. So we set out to see what we could find.”
Moses paused again, then gestured. The vid window showing the live outgoing feed zoomed back to display a two shot of Moses and S’Nhu-gli.Moses gestured grandly at the alien.
“What we found were friends, and the wonderfully comforting fact that we are not alone.” Moses smiled. “Welcome to the Universe. Enjoy it while it lasts.” He nodded to Mad, who killed the transmission, then sighed. “Well, the cat’s out of that bag.”
“No.” Replied S’Nhu-gli, reasonably. “The weasel is.”
“Good point. Mad? Are we still getting that live transmission? Who is it?”
“Yep, and it appears to be...” Mad glanced over at a data window, floating beside her. “From L1. Got the U.E.’s Director of Intrasystems Ops, himself, on the line.”
Moses smiled wickedly. “Is that still Thaddeus Biggs?”
Mad nodded. “Yep. Thad the Thud. He always was a horse’s patoot.”
“Yes. Yes, he was. Oh, this ought to be fun. How long before they get the reveal shot?”
“At this point, no more than about three minutes.”
“And me without my popcorn.” In the live feed from the mess deck, Doug quietly shuddered. “Let’s see what they look like... and put up a side window with estimated real time feed for their location.”
On the mess deck, the observers cleared the tables and leaned back, snacks and drinks in hand, to observe the upcoming festivities.
In the vid window, Director Biggs continued to attempt to remonstrate Moses, growing more apoplectic with each passing, pointed and pointless comment. Finally, in the little side window, the recorded Moses gestured grandly. On the main image, Biggs watched as the closeup zoomed back and the two shot of Moses and S’Nhu-gli was displayed. There was a two beat pause, then Bigg’s eyes rolled back in his head and he fainted.
“Okay. Who had fainted?”
“That’s just not fair. I picked fainting first.” Doug supplied whiningly from the galley.
“Of course you did, Doug. Everyone would have done so, had they the opportunity. And that is why we had a pool, and that is why I ran it.” Moses grinned. “Sucker.”
“You?!?” Interjected Cath, from engineering.
“Cath? Seriously?” Moses smiled. “How long have you known me, exactly?”
“You fuck fucking fucker.”
“Exactly.” Moses grinned. “And your hula girl dancing bet default to the contrary...” In the vid window behind Cath, Leo shuddered... “We need to figure out where we’re going to park. They’re going to want a quarantine, and I don’t blame them, but they’ll want it someplace where no one can see us. Ain’t gonna happen. So... any suggestions?”
Ami looked over. “I still say L-1. It’s hard to be ignored when you’re sitting there halfway in between the Earth and the Moon.”
“Well, it’s not halfway but yeah, I see your point.” Moses looked over to Mad. “What do you think?”
She shrugged. “I’m still kind of an L-3 fan. Almost no one is out there save some comm satellites.”
