“Wow, that’ll be…”
“Nerve-racking, I imagine, but what’s a simple live TV appearance witnessed by up to 8 billion viewers to an intrepid interplanetary explorer like yourself, Officer Beauchamp? Office Beauchamp, are you okay?”
“I just needed a brief lie down, Captain.”
“Jolly good. Well, the transport is being stocked up with the first batch of provisions as we speak and you’ll be leaving in the next few days. Any questions?”
“No Captain, crystal clear, thank you. Just give me a minute, then I’ll get up.”
“Don’t get up on my account. If you’ll excuse me…”
Captain Watkins gingerly stepped over the prostrate officer and left.
PRODUCT PLACEMENT
Sponsorship deals and product placement have long fulfilled an important role in the exploration of new lands, providing on the one hand much needed financial support for often cash-strapped warmongers, and on the other hand procuring access to potentially huge new markets for international trade.
For example, when Genghis Khan attacked and destroyed the kingdom of Georgia in 1220, it is said he was wearing a ceremonial silk riding cape donated by Mongol merchants keen to expand trade with the Caucasus.
On his return some years later, he presented the bloody remains of the garment back to the merchants, who complained that he was supposed to be opening up a trade corridor, not wiping out entire ethnic groups. A lively debate ensued between Genghis and the merchants, at the culmination of which, perhaps surprisingly, the mighty Mongol emperor did not have the final word.
The final words as spoken by the silk merchants were duly recorded in the Annals of the Mongolian Empire (Volume 17, available for inspection at the British Library), and if translated into polite English can best be rendered, ‘Ouch, that really hurts!’
UK Guide to Space, 2025 Edition
Several months’ frigosleep later. Susan McKenzie’s smiling face filled the vis screen.
“I wanted to send you this message before the announcement. Sorry I didn’t get down to Cornwall before you left, things were just beginning to get hairy in Westminster, as you can well imagine.
“Anyway, I wish you all the best, I know you’ll be fine. My thoughts and prayers will be with you on your big day. I’m profoundly grateful for everything you’ve done for me personally, and for the nation really by your loyalty, your unwaveringly honest approach to your duties, and your friendship actually. Darn it, why do I always sound like a politician? No wait, I think I know the answer to that one. I’ll probably have one or two announcements of my own by the time you come back to Earth. I’ve had a word with Ralph and he’s going to step aside. We thought it was for the best. I’m confident he’ll find a new role. So - expect to see even more of me on your TV screen.
“Speaking of which, I mustn’t keep you too long, you can’t keep your vast and unimaginably numerous audience waiting. Bother, what I meant to say was, imagine it’s just you, standing in front of the bathroom mirror with a hairbrush. Or, if you really want, you could try to imagine all 8 billion viewers. I tried to do that once and had to spend a week in a frightfully expensive spa retreat having my toenails massaged. You wouldn’t believe how much that set the taxpayer back.
“But I digress. Go get ‘em Tiggy. Yours, loyally, Susan.”
Tiggy switched off her portable vis screen and slid it into her attaché with a smile. Loveable old muppet, she thought.
“Officer Beauchamp, we’ll be live in 5 minutes.”
“Thanks, I think.”
Tiggy rummaged around and fished out some scant notes she’d prepared. It wasn’t as if she were giving a whole speech. From the point of view of the colonists, it was just a regular Monday morning news conference. Captain Watkins was right, most of them were probably expecting the worst sort of news.
Tiggy’s nervous thoughts were interrupted by a broad Russian accent. “Comrade Beauchamp, it’s a privilege to have you back at the colony.”
“Sergey, lovely to see you! Keeping busy?”
“Of course, yes. Out of nowhere, we have whole new team of agricultural scientific advisors assisting us with the redesign of the crop programme.”
“Ah yes, hopefully together, it’ll be possible to turn things around.”
“I should think, yes, now we have top researchers from your leading universities. Oxford, Manchester, and… what’s that one in East Anglia?”
“The Polytechnic of East Anglia?”
“Yes, that’s it. Very impressive. I feel this is a new dawn for our collaboration as nations. Friends, moving forward in peace, no?”
“No. I mean, yes!”
“I hear you have some additional announcements from the Minister. Good news I hope.”
“Well, perhaps. I think you’ll like it.”
“Wonderful. Well, I can see the TV cameras are waiting for you. Good luck!”
Sergey gave Tiggy a bear hug and strutted off manfully, followed by his cat Aleksey. Muscly chap, Tiggy found herself thinking. Focus, focus!
“Hey, Tiggy!”
“Oh hello! Are you guys ready?”
“I think so. Not that we have any idea what you’re going to say,” said Aster.
“Rumour has it the plug is being pulled, but that doesn’t explain the atmosphere since you arrived. It’s inexplicably upbeat,” said Freddie.
“You might just be saying that because you’re head over heels. Anyway, you’ll find out in about two minutes.”
“You won’t be leaving again straight away will you Tiggy? I’ve missed you terribly since you’ve been away.”
“Ah, Aster that’s sweet of you to say. I’m sure you’ve had alternative diversions, but no, I’ll be hanging around a bit longer this time.”
“Might you stay on permanently?” asked Freddie.
“Unlikely. That’s not my remit. I come and go, that’s just what I do.”
“But you will always return, won’t you Tiggy?”
“I will Aster. The colony is my second home now.”
“See Freddie, I knew it. Tiggy wouldn’t abandon us.”
“Well, the hero always returns, don’t they? Always survives to fight the next battle.”
“I wonder what the next battle will be Tiggy?”
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
“Officer, the cameras are live in ten seconds.”
“Thanks. Come on you two. Let’s turn the next page together.”
Epilogue: A Tale of Two Mice The following originally appeared on Twitter as a short story in 21 episodes.
Angie and Benji had a big problem.They knew if they stayed on the ISS they would end up playing a lead role in some sick science experiment.
They had to leave, but how? Over a thimble of beer at the officers bar Benji laid bare his grand plan. “We have to take the escape capsule!”
Angie mouse thought Benji was the sick one but she went along. Call it mammalian loyalty, call it foolish courage. Truth was, she loved him.
“Ready?” Ben called from the flight deck. “All systems go!” Ang replied. Together they leaped on the emergency release. Finally, it engaged.
“Wait” yelled Angie “The airlock, you didn’t close it! You’re putting the poor humans at risk!”. Benji couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Now in low orbit around Earth, they must engage the nav computer. “It’s no use Angie, I can’t reach the controls!” Benji yelled frantically.
The two mice sat silently for several minutes. Was this how it was going to end after they’d escaped? “I know, use the PC mouse!” cried Ang.
They were now in complete control. “We’re free Ben! But where shall we go?” said Angie. “Fancy being the first mice on Mars?” replied Benji.
“I’ve done a trajectory calculation,” said Benji, “it doesn’t look like we have enough fuel to reach Mars.” Angie replied, “I have an idea!”
“Pass me that book on Newtonian Gravitational Slingshots” Angie
began flicking through the book. “I thought so. We need to go via Mercury.”
The mice had a long journey ahead of them. They had managed to rig up a miniature stasis unit using the minibar freezer. “Sleep well Benji!”
12 months later, they arrived in orbit around Mars. The ship’s computer had been programmed to rouse them. “I need some cheese!” said Benji.
“You know we can’t land this hunk of trash on Mars, it’ll burn up.” said Ang. “Find the nearest transport” said Benji, “We’ll hitch a lift.”
Using the nav computer, Angie found and approached a nearby ship. Unseen, they performed a perfect dock. “Greetings comrades!” said Aleksey.
It was Anatoly’s brother. “He told me you had escaped,” continued Aleksey. “The humans were pretty upset about airlock. They will find you.”
“Can you help us?” implored Angie. “We Russians take our loyalties very seriously. A friend of my brother, is mine also,” extending his paw.
Benji whispered, “Can we trust this cat? He may be hungry after the long sleep!” Angie replied, “We have no choice. We can’t exactly leave.”
“British mice prepare for reentry”, yelled Aleksey over the din. “This is it!” said Ang. Ben clasped her paw “whatever happens, I love you.”
Reentry was terrifying, but after a few minutes, it was all over. The two mice punched the air with relief. Aleksey watched them, grinning.
Inside base camp, Angie and Benji were safe at last, but now they had a new dilemma. “We’re free Benji. To what end can we put our freedom?”
Benji had been watching the colonists, whom he felt he could trust. “You know what, dear Angie? I’ve a feeling we should make our TV debut.”
About the Author Giles Chanot was educated at a well known University in Oxfordshire and normally makes his living writing iPhone apps, like The Radio and Mr Word.
He has written two other novels, The Gödel Device and The Misadventure of Sherlock Holmes. He lives in Bristol with his wife and three children, patiently anticipating a publisher.
Follow Giles Chanot on Twitter @truncatedtales.
Copyright Copyright © 2016 Giles Chanot Giles Chanot has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
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