“Priming the engines,” Michael called out.
Conor’s seat began to vibrate. He took several deep breaths and tried to relax, but he could feel panic building up from inside. Realizing that he was about to lose control, he focused on the viewing monitor positioned near the center of the blue-gray console in front of his seat. It provided a wide-angled view of the spaceship’s three engines, each now spurting out a trail of blue-green flame. Focusing on the flames, he blocked everything else out. The monitor flickered, as if signaling that something was about to happen.
“Are you okay?” Michael asked. “You look a bit pale.”
“I’m fine,” Conor lied.
“I remember my first interstellar flight,” Michael answered. “I threw up. If you do feel ill, there is a bag in the compartment just below your monitor.”
Conor made a mental note of the bag’s location, just in case. Then, a low, rumbling noise filled the bridge and the lights dimmed. Grabbing the armrests on his seat, he squeezed hard as the rumbling noise grew louder and louder. The monitor flashed bright yellow and the ship jerked upward, sending his head snapping back into his cushioned headrest. His heart raced as the pressure on his chest began to build. At that very moment, Kristi’s voice filled his mind, “Everything is going to be fine. We have done this many, many times before. There is absolutely nothing to fear, nothing at all.”
Conor closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts. The panic dissipated. Then, just as Michael had promised, the pressure on his chest was gone.
“That’s that,” Michael announced nonchalantly. Releasing the buckle on his restraining belt, he leaned over to Conor and asked, “Are you hungry? I am. Let’s go down to the galley and see what we can get to eat.”
Michael headed toward a doorway at the back of the bridge. Conor started to unbuckle himself, but paused as a blur of starlight shot past the rear engines on the monitor in front of him. The stars blended together into a single, luminous band stretching far into the distance. He could only guess at how fast they were moving. Kristi had tried to explain star shooting. She said that they were using the gravitational pull of nearby stars to catapult through space. She said that it was like skipping a stone across the surface of water. He didn’t fully understand the analogy, but it really didn’t matter. He knew that they were moving very, very fast. Faster than he could ever imagine. As the stars stretched out behind the ship, his thoughts drifted back to the island and to Baer, Marle-Marja, and Ulric. He wondered if he would ever see them again.
“Are you coming?” Michael asked impatiently from the back of the bridge.
“Yes,” Conor answered, unbuckling his restraining belt.
Conor followed Michael into a long, narrow corridor with wooden handrails. Kristi had explained that if the artificial gravity stopped working the handrails would be essential for moving from room-to-room. Although he knew that the odds of the gravity failing was very small, the presence of the handrails meant that it was possible and that accidents happened. The thought of floating down the corridor had a strange appeal, but he dismissed that thought, knowing that if the artificial gravity failed the odds of a larger, potentially catastrophic problem increased exponentially.
“You worry too much,” Kristi’s voice filled his mind.
“Hey, a little privacy, please,” Conor pleaded.
“I told you that you have nothing to worry about,” Kristi continued, taking a somewhat tender, motherly tone. “This is a routine trip, one that we have taken numerous times.”
Michael stepped into the galley and noticed that Conor was not following him. He turned around, stuck his head into the corridor, and called out, “What are you waiting for?”
The galley was much larger than Conor had expected. There were five glass-topped tables, each with four cushioned seats, aligned in a circle near the middle of the room. The flooring was soft and spongy and looked like green moss. A large off-white, metallic machine with several numbered windows and a moving conveyor belt filled one wall from the floor to the ceiling. But the galley’s most interesting feature was a light blue pedestal at the back of the room. It projected a life-size, three-dimensional hologram of a ferocious-looking beast with thick brown tusks, a broad snout, and a huge head. The beast rotated slowly, allowing the viewer to fully appreciate its size. The hologram slowly dissolved into nothingness and was replaced by a giant red bird with sharp yellow claws on each of its outstretched wings. Conor instinctively took a step back as the bird appeared to reach out at him.
“It’s called an onx,” Michael stated, taking a seat and motioning for Conor to join him. “Each of the animals on display is native to one of the planets that I have discovered. The hologram is programmed to display the more interesting ones. Take the onx, for example. It is obviously a bird, but it does not lay eggs. It has live offspring, which is very rare for birds.”
Conor watched as the onx finished its full rotation and slowly disappeared. It was replaced by a much smaller, far less threatening speckled seabird.
“Have a seat,” Michael stated, motioning again to the chair directly across from him. “I guarantee that this will be one of your favorite rooms in the entire ship.”
Conor grabbed the chair Michael pointed at and sat down. The chair’s cushion felt surprisingly soft and warm. It quickly adjusted to his form. Several sweet-smelling orange orbs were arranged invitingly on a platter at the table’s center. Picking up one of the smaller orbs, he inspected it carefully. It was soft and inviting to the touch and seemed to grow just a shade darker in color the longer he looked at it.
“What is this?” Conor asked.
Michael picked out a large, invitingly plump orb from the platter, pulled out an old-fashioned, metal carving knife from a pocket, cut a slice from the orb, and handed it to Conor.
“It’s called Paradise,” Michael said with a smile. “It’s named after Marie Holly Paradise, the genetic engineer who created it. She has created some of the most delicious foods ever in the history of the Consortium. Go ahead. Take a bite. It’s delicious.”
Conor placed the orb he was inspecting back onto the table and took the slice from Michael’s outstretched hand. He bit into it and announced with a wide grin, “Wow, this is good. Very sweet!”
“I am glad that you like it,” Michael stated. “Nearly everyone does.”
Michael sliced up the rest of the orb and then another. He passed the slices out like he was dealing cards, one for him, one for Conor, one for him, and so forth. As they finished eating the last slices, Conor asked, “I could eat these all day, but what else do you have?”
Michael walked over to a rectangular, gray computer screen embedded into the wall. He tapped the screen, which beeped and turned light blue.
“The ship’s computers can be activated by touch,” Michael explained. “You can tell if the computer screen is working if it beeps and turns blue, like this one just did.”
Turning to the computer screen Michael said, “Lunch menu, please.”
Several lunch items appeared on the screen, listed in alphabetical order. Each item on the list was accompanied by a picture showing the food’s likeness and a short message indicating its planet of origin, serving temperature, and sweetness, ranging from 0% to 100%, and if it was natural or enhanced. The percentage of users recommending the item was also displayed, with a thumb up icon signaling items registering an approval rating of 85% or higher.
“It will show a menu for breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, and dessert,” Michael continued. “And before I forget, if you don’t say please after every request the computer will not respond. Star travelers are purposively required to use the word please when interacting with their ship’s computer to remind them to be polite when interacting with new species. Personally, I think it’s just the programmers’ weird sense of humor. But it is what it is. So, don’t forget to say please. It won’t work if you don’t. Now, let’s see if we can get something special for you since this is your first time.”
Michael leaned toward the computer screen and stated, “I have changed my mind. Instead of lunch, I want the dessert menu, please.”
A new list of foods appeared on the screen. Scanning through the list, a sly grin filled his face as he announced, “Two strawberry sundaes with extra whipped cream, please.”
The computer screen beeped twice and announced in a soft, almost childlike voice, “Thank you for your order of two strawberry sundaes with extra whipped cream. Your order is now ready at window number four.”
Michael walked across the galley to the large off-white machine, opened an opaque window marked with the numeral 4, picked up the two bowls waiting inside, each containing a large strawberry sundae, and walked back to his table.
Handing one of the bowls to Conor, he sat down and continued, “One of the benefits of being in the Consortium is that you get to sample food from throughout the galaxies. This particular prize came from a small planet that we admitted as a Junior Member not too long ago. Try it. Believe me, you will like it.”
Conor stared at the ice cream for a moment, and then at the six pieces of silverware aligned on the table in front of him. He had little use for utensils on the island. He had eaten almost everything with his hands. But it was pretty easy to figure out that the larger of the two spoons on the table was the right choice for a strawberry sundae. Conor lifted up the spoon and playfully poked several holes into the ice cream.
“Go ahead,” Michael stated with a grin. “Trust me. It is very good. You will like it. It has a 97% approval rating. One the highest ever registered.”
Conor took a small spoonful of the ice cream and gingerly placed it into his mouth.
“It is good!” he announced.
“I told you that you would like it,” Michael stated. “Everyone likes ice cream. Now that that is settled, as soon as we are finished I have some things that I need to attend to in my cabin so you will be on your own for a little while until Kristi is ready to start your lessons.”
“Any suggestions?” Conor asked, not sure what to do with himself.
“There’s always the game room,” Michael answered.
“A game room!” Conor stated, excitedly. “Kristi didn’t tell me about a game room. I had no idea that this trip was going to be fun.”
“Fun?” Michael answered with a laugh. “Of course, the trip is going to be fun. Wait until you see the games that are stored in the computer’s memory banks.”
Pausing, Michael continued with an evil grin, “Well, maybe you are a little young for some of the games, but I think that I can make a few recommendations that you will like.”
“Michael,” Kristi’s voice filled their minds. “Don’t you think that Conor should take full advantage of the limited time that we have while in transit to study Rylyn’s norms and customs? He has a lot to learn in a very short period of time.”
Michael frowned and answered out loud, “Okay, you win. But the boy needs some downtime too.”
Leaning over to Conor, Michael whispered, “She’s the best, but sometimes she’s a bit bossy, you know what I mean?”
“I heard that,” Kristi answered in a huff. “Please remember our earlier conversation concerning who is in charge of Conor’s education.”
“Alright!” Michael announced. “I surrender. You are in charge of his education.”
Looking over to Conor, Michael continued, “Sorry kid, but a deal is a deal. I promised her that I would not interfere.”
“Conor, after you finish eating meet me in cargo bay three,” Kristi continued. “We have a lot of work to do.”
After finishing their ice cream, Michael placed their now empty bowls and utensils onto a conveyor belt and headed for the corridor. As the bowls and utensils rolled away and disappeared into a wall, Michael stepped into the corridor, turned left, and headed for his cabin. Conor hesitated as he stepped into the corridor, not sure which way to turn.
“Intergalactic starships are required to have an easy-to-read directory at each corridor intersection to help visitors find their way around,” Kristi stated. “In this case, the nearest intersection is to your right.”
Conor quickly found the directory and was on his way to cargo bay three when he came upon a small opening off to the side of the corridor with a padded chair facing a very large computer screen. He sensed that there was something different about this particular screen, something that set it apart from the others that he had seen on the ship. He took a step toward the screen, but remembered that he was supposed to go straight to cargo bay three.
“Go ahead,” Kristi’s voice whispered in his mind. “Take a seat. There is a lesson to be learned here. This particular computer screen is one of only three on the ship that is connected to the long-range telescopes. There is another one on the bridge and another in Michael’s cabin. I am impressed that you noticed the subtle difference between this screen and the others. This one is wider because it is used primarily for panoramic, wide-angle viewing.”
Conor tapped the screen and sat down. The screen beeped and turned light blue.
“Show me the outside,” Conor said.
Nothing happened.
“You forgot to be polite,” Kristi’s voice whispered.
“Oh,” Conor stated with a smile. “Show me the outside, please.”
Conor shielded his eyes as a bright ocean of starlight filled the screen.
“Wow!” Conor exclaimed. “There must be a million of them!”
“Actually, there are more than 100 million stars in this particular view,” Kristi explained. “And many more than that in the known universe.”
“Focus on the Home Galaxy, please,” Kristi’s voice announced out loud.
The screen showed a blue spiral galaxy with a large, white globular cluster of stars at its center. Three very large, bright orange stars stood out in direct contrast to the thousands of white stars packed together at the cluster’s center.
“It’s beautiful!” Conor exclaimed.
“Yes it is,” Kristi answered. “The spiral’s blue color is produced by blue giants, relatively young, hot stars. The galaxy’s nucleus was formed first and its stars are typically older than, and not as hot as, the stars in the spirals. Most of the central cluster’s stars are white or yellow, with a few oranges and reds mixed in. That is why the center looks white.”
“Wow!” Conor gasped in awe.
“Rylyn revolves around the second orange star from the left in the central cluster,” Kristi explained. “That is where we are going.”
As Kristi continued, Conor stared intently at the millions of stars filling the screen.
“For a very long time, before the Consortium was formed, the various planets and solar systems were called different things by different people, and each planet had its own dominant language and mapping, monetary, and legal system,” Kristi continued. “At first, this diversity did not cause too many problems, but as interstellar commerce increased the need for uniformity became increasingly evident. For many years, the single, most important issue in the entire galaxy was which language, mapping, monetary, and legal system would prevail. Personally, I think that ending interplanetary slavery should have taken precedence, but, as usual, economics trumps everything and the resolution of the slavery issue had to wait. The two most advanced planets at that time, Rylyn and Aquator, each declared war on the other to ensure that their language and economic system prevailed. The less advanced planets tried to remain neutral, but neither Rylyn nor Aquator recognized neutrality. In their view, you were either with them or against them. There was no middle ground. The Great War lasted for nearly 40 years. Billions were killed, and billions more were made homeless as entire planets were ravaged and others sustained significant damage. At any given time there were billions of political refugees drifting from planet-to-planet seeking asylum. Unfortunately, few planets had the resources to take them in. Facing starvation, many refugees turned to a life of crime to survive. Local security forces looked the oth
er way as the strong preyed upon the weak. A thriving black market ensued where millions of refugees were kidnapped by profiteers and sold into slavery. But, as bad as all that was, there were also many inspiring stories of heroism and self-sacrifice. Donations to charity, especially charities targeting the needs of displaced and orphaned children, skyrocketed. Adoption services were deluged with offers to adopt war orphans. So, as you can see, the Great War brought out both the best and the worst in us. It finally ended when Patricia Harper Agu, a computer programmer from Rylyn, infected Aquator’s computer array with a killer virus that knocked out Aquator’s planetary defense grid. As Rylyn’s space fleet closed in, Aquator surrendered. Agu became an interstellar superstar, earning millions of credits endorsing products. She retired a very wealthy lady. A new, interstellar government, called the Consortium of Allied Planets, was established. Initially, the Assembly of Representatives, housed on Rylyn, issued the rules and regulations governing interstellar commerce. The Interstellar Court of Justice adjudicated disputes and served as the Assembly’s implementing body. But, over time, as new planets joined the Consortium, the Assembly grew larger and more cumbersome. As a result, the Court’s powers were slowly increased over time, primarily out of necessity as the Assembly proved increasingly incapable of reaching decisions in a timely fashion. The Assembly is now largely a ceremonial body, providing a platform for various interests to publicize their concerns. The real power resides in the Court.”
Kristi paused, making sure that Conor was paying attention. She knew how important it was that he understood how the political system operated, given the difficult and dangerous task ahead.
“One of the Assembly’s first acts was to create the Interstellar Reconnaissance Service, commonly known as the IR,” she continued. “Michael is an IR ranger. His job is to explore the universe, looking for planets that have minerals or other natural resources of interest to the Consortium. In addition to a base salary, rangers receive a discovery bonus for finding planets that add economic value to the Consortium. The bonus varies depending on the planet’s economic value and, if populated, how long it will take the inhabitants to become viable trading partners. If the inhabitants have not yet achieved space travel, the Court decides if it wants to give them additional time to become a viable trading partner or to reboot the planet.”
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