1Between docking at Bromaleon and the first call to board our ship for Castiliste, I had plenty of time to make another parcel call to Gra'am. There were no messages waiting for me, but I tried to anticipate her possible questions.
When would I be back? A while yet, but hopefully not too long, according to my new friend Jones.
Who was this Jones fellow? He's been helping me out since my first shuttle was hijacked.
Was I lying about that girl in the forest? No, we left crazy alone, as it should be. There would not be any grandchildren for a while yet, thank you.
Finishing the call left me with a gentle catharsis. I was still anxious about getting back, but I felt most of my stress melt away, in the meantime. Just knowing that Gra'am would be informed took a load off my shoulders.
"Done with your call?" Jones asked, as I finished my call.
"Yeah. Just sent a parcel to Gra'am, though. Robert will think I'm desperate if I call him right away…"
That got a chuckle out of Jones.
"How long is this next Jaunt going to take?" I asked as we wandered back over to the seating area. We would be allowed to board any time now.
"The Jaunt will take hardly any time at all," Jones said matter of factly.
"Smartass. What about the rest of the trip?"
"Not as long as from Benedicci to here. Other than that, I can't say. Castiliste isn't as far, galactically speaking, as Phaderen is to Galeron VI."
"Ever been?"
"Nope."
The first call to board came not long after. We hefted our bags, weighing maybe all of a quarter of a kilo each, and walked through the last gate.
The ship had a similar construction to the shuttle, except roomier, and without windows, or even the false screens along the walls. Hopefully this indicated the trip out away from the station wouldn't be a long one—who could put up with the cramped conditions and boredom of a blank tube like this?
I didn't think I could.
The ship claimed open seating, so Jones and I found an unoccupied pair toward the back. Seeing as the placed lacked windows, I didn't mind taking the aisle seat, as long as, I told Jones, he didn't have a tiny bladder. He promised he didn't, and we sat down and buckled up.
People trickled in, but there's nothing exciting about that. For the most part we ignored everyone else, and all their sniffling and snuffling and wheezing. I did wonder about the state of galactic quarantines, however. Wouldn't it be just my luck to have the ship halted on account of some exotic virus?
Best not jinx it by saying it aloud.
Instead, I tried passing the time by chatting up Jones. It wasn't like I'd picked up a book on the way out, though I recalled I'd considered it earlier.
"What sort of things have you done in your travels, anyway? I asked. He implied quite often that he led an adventuresome life, but I had yet to be regaled with tales of his exploits.
Jones cracked his knuckles.
"Well, most of the time, it's just going from one station to another, you know, visiting places as I run into them… Most people and places are kind of boring, actually."
I nodded in agreement, thinking of home, and the more public side of Galeron VI. Benedicci probably would have been boring, except for the whole issue of blowing up.
"But," Jones continued, "When you get around as much as I do, eventually interesting stuff happens! Like the time I saved a Ktchinian from choking to death on a slice of apricot."
"A what, how now?"
Jones waved his hand. "Oh, you know, the octopodal xenofolk with the four eyestalks and an insatiable curiosity?"
"You might have forgotten the part where I'm from a backwater world that no one visits, particularly aliens…"
"You haven't met any yet? What! It's a good thing our next stop is in the middle of a crossroads, then. Anyway, so this fellow, I think his name was Rtytrsk, he got a bit overzealous during a buffet we were attending, and inhaled a chunk of fruit—humans aren't the only ones with inefficient air and food ways, after all—but I had been trained in galactic first aid, so I was able to pull it out of his throat…"
"Pull it out—!"
Jones nodded, and held up one hand, forefinger and thumb held together. "Can't really do any compressive maneuvers, because of how they're shaped, but their gullets are wide enough to fit an arm down a ways…"
I must have blanched, because Jones laughed. A few people turned around in the seats to see what the fuss was about, but left us alone otherwise. I tried to shush him, but he just moved an arm around to pat me on the shoulder. I wondered if it was the same one he'd shoved into an alien's mouth at some point in the past.
"Bit squeamish, huh? Training can help with that. Say, want me to enroll you in some training courses sometime? It's really good stuff to know. Especially the galactic version! Never know when you might have to tourniquet a limb or help deliver an egg."
I stuck my tongue out in mock disgust. "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't think they even have those classes back home."
"What about during one of our layovers?"
"I guess I'll think about it," I said. "Though really, I should brush up on human first aid, first. What if I get hurt?"
"Then I'll be there to help!" Jones said, thrusting his chest out as far as his straps would allow him. He jabbed one thumb toward his heart. "If you're with me, you won't have anything to fear."
Except possible baby hungry rapists in the boondocks, but I didn't say as much out loud. I didn't have any doubts that Jones was at least strong enough to tackle any monsters we might encounter, sapient or not. And so long as he wasn't asked to eat creepy crawlies, he had courage enough for the both of us.
"I appreciate it," I told him.
"Now, there was another time on a shuttle not too different from this one that I tackled a would-be hijacker—"
"You mean the time you rode a shuttle from Phaderen to Retirement Station 02 but had to take a detour to Benedicci?"
"How did you know?"
"I was there, you goof."
"So you were!"
"What were you going there for, anyway, Jones?" What reason did a random explorer like him have to visit a retirement community high in the orbit of a nowhere planet like where I was from? That detail had been bothering me for a little while, and I hadn't gotten a good answer yet.
Jones scratched his chin. He still hadn't shaved since I'd met him, and a small goatee was coming into being.
"Well, it was the quickest shuttle off planet. I'd looked, and there was a connecting flight from it to Benedicci after about twelve hours."
That made sense. "You were in that much of a hurry to leave?" I asked, keeping a joking tone.
"Well, it was that, or be stuck there until that massive thunderstorm passed by."
That's right. I was used to delays due to weather, so travel had always seemed risky and subject to change, growing up. So what if we had to wait another two or three days to get anyplace? I guess galactic travel was different, though, considering how tickets were bought so far in advance and schedules were a little tighter than I was used to. I never imaged getting back home would be such a hassle.
About then, one of the pilots announced our immanent take off. I double checked my straps all over again, mostly out of habit, and gave Jones a once over as well. Everything looked to be in order.
Conversation naturally dropped off everywhere in the cabin as the ship cut loose from its moorings, and we were in free fall. The walls had no windows, which seemed to be the norm for interstellar travel, so I wasn't able to watch as we left Bromaleon and Galeron VI behind—probably forever. We did not even have screens, to watch the planet drift further behind as we aimed for empty space. No looking back now, literally and figuratively.
I hoped Robert would be happy there, for as long as he stayed. Or whatever type of emotion androids might feel. Maybe I'd send him a parcel call at the next station, or the next. There were a few between here and home, right? I didn't want to wait until I was back planetside until I tried getting in touch, though I had a sneaking suspicion that it might turn out that way. I thought of my wallet and its vital information tucked inside, safely in my pocket. No way that I would store in it in the overhead with whatever else I owned at the moment.
I must have gone quiet for some time, since Jones poked me in the shoulder. I became aware that conversation had returned to the rest of the cabin, though still mostly kept low.
All of these many dozens of people, packed in here with me—where was their final destinations? Who were they returning to—or fleeing from?
"Oh, hey Jones. What's up?"
"Nothing much. You seemed like you drifted off there for a moment."
"Hm. Guess I did. What were we talking about before?"
"Stories, mostly."
"That's right." I settled back into my seat, pulled a plain grey flannel blanket over myself and around my neck as a pillow of sorts; they came equipped with the seat. "How long's the trip?"
"Oh, not too bad, I don't think. Gonna take a nap?"
"Maybe. If you want to keep telling your stories, though, I'll listen."
I saw Jones shut his eyes and smile in reminiscence. "Have I told you the one about the time I punched an Aldebaran ambassador right in the kisser…?"
I couldn't think of a time I had, and said as much.
"Well, it's a good story, if I do say so myself. So it all started at the bar…"
I stretched and popped several of my vertebrae as we walked through the corridors of Castiliste Station. The trip had taken several hours, and I'd somehow managed to sleep through the Jaunt, mostly. Jones claimed he'd dropped off at some point, too, after I'd fallen asleep. Without any sort of entertainment, he just couldn't stay awake.
For some reason space ships tended not to have movie screens. Maybe there was some explanation for that, but neither of us knew for sure what it might be.
"Are you going to make another parcel call to your grandmother?" Jones asked me, stretching one arm across his chest. There is no good way to take a nap on public transportation, regardless of if it's terrestrial or out in space.
"Nah," I said, massaging my neck. "I just made one back at Bromaleon—nothing new or exciting has happened yet. Maybe before we take off from here… when do you think that will be?"
Jones glanced toward a holo display with lots of numbers and some names. "About a day and a half."
Hm. What sort of trouble could we get into in that short amount of time?
"Are we in orbit around anything interesting?" I asked. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I didn't want Galeron VI to be my only true off world experience.
"A dead world, if I remember right. So no planetside excursions for us this time, Norm."
What a shame.
"What else is there to do here?"
Jones shrugged, and walked over to some windows to look at the wares of the small novelty shop situated there. "We could get a room or two and just sleep it off."
"Maybe. I'm not tired, though. Are you?"
I saw his grin spread across his face, even in profile. "Not the least bit. I haven't been here before—let's so exploring."
I could use the exercise, anyway, so I followed without complaint.
So long as we didn't encounter—or try to disarm—any more explosive devices, there wasn't much to dissuade me.
Castiliste, as it turned out, was a much larger way station than either Benedicci or Bromaleon, or, I suspected, the two of them combined. Most of it was off limits, being reserved or maintenance or services that the public and travelers had no business snooping around in, but a great deal of the place was used for amenities.
Outside of the lobby, which we had just been walking through, was a long, circular corridor reserved for shops and small nook restaurants with cheap food. I hadn't gotten too hungry yet, even though my Galeronian leftovers were five or more hours into digestion, but I started taking notes on possible places to visit. Most of the kitchens we passed by at least had familiar food, with a variety of names proclaiming this exotic origin or that, as well as a smattering of more 'rustic' or home cooked fare, if the signs were to be believed. A sizeable minority, though, were in languages that I didn't recognize (though that was not surprising), or had something readable only in subtitles that still somehow obscured what it was they were even selling. Generally the food smelled good, or at least edible.
"Are you going to want to take a lunch sometime, Jones?" I asked. I wasn't hungry yet, but the smells were beginning to have an effect on me.
"Maybe later," he said, still walking at a good pace. "If this place is anything like all the other way stations I've been through, they'll have the good stuff on another level. This close to the common lobby, they're just trying to cater to tourists or travelers who won't be staying here long."
I glanced at all of the gift shops and decided that perhaps Jones was on to something.
We continued to dodge foot and small motor vehicle traffic for a while, until things started to look familiar. I peered down one of the connecting tubes, and saw a kiosk in the lobby that I definitely remembered having passed by as we began our walk.
"Looks like we've made a complete circuit," I said.
"So we have," Jones said. He stopped and looked around. "Care to check out the next level or two?"
"May as well." I didn't mention that I was starting to get the slightest bit hungry. Oh well, it wasn't as though having an empty stomach was bad for you, in the short term.
We managed to locate another one of the connecting corridors after a bit more walking. I made a note to remind myself to look into purchasing another pair of shoes; my space shoes were getting a touch worn, and weren't especially built for all this travel to begin with. They'd do for now, and anyway, maybe they'd have a shoe store next to all the fancier restaurants that Jones seemed intent on showing me. I kept walking, minding the black carpet that passed underfoot. At first I thought it was just dirty, but realized after a while that the white and yellow and red dots were supposed to be there; the floor was made to look like a starry sky.
I wondered if anyone else besides native Phaderens might use a cloudy sky as a carpet design instead of stars. Maybe, though perhaps not in grey…
Watching my mud-stained shoes flick across the floor bored me after a time, but not much else appeared to relieve me. The corridor did not house any shops or restaurants or anything much at all, really, besides banked lights and the occasional information terminal.
"This hall goes on a ways, doesn't it?" I said.
Jones nodded, hands in his jacket pockets, looking completely casual and at home. "Don't want the rings to be too close to each other, in the event of a meteor strike or something else that can launch debris into space. It's supposed to be flung outward in that sort of situation, but things can happen."
"Is there anything in the middle of the rings? I haven't gotten a chance to take a good look at one of these stations."
Jones waved one hand vaguely toward the floor. "The lower grav areas are mostly machines and maintenance, I think. Maybe some private walkways for the elite. I heard they use moving sidewalks to spirit them to the far side of the station…"
"Only heard?" I hadn't forgotten how rich Jones was, as much as he played the homeless vagabond.
"It's an attitude thing. I'd rather fly coach than first class, not flaunt my living situation so much. People treat you differently if they know you have money."
"I've never had that problem before, but then again I made lower middle class wages back home. I'm comfortable, but that's about it."
Jones smiled. "That's all anyone can reasonably hope to expect, really. Even if you make megabucks."
It also depended on one's definition of comfort, but I did not say as much aloud. My apartment back on Phaderen certainly suited my needs just fine, but who was to say how someone like Jones or one of those mythical elites would settle in. Even some of my friends called me Spartan, for my lack of material goods. An ancient word, but one befitting my lifestyle.
Maybe I could be adventurous and get a cat when I got back.
Eventually, the tunnel or hallway or whatever it was opened into another, wider area. The space was actually an intersection, with the tube bisecting the new ring and going on to what looked like another ring even further down.
"Just how many layers does this place have?" I asked Jones, taking a second to side step a person who looked as though they'd come from discovering a bar.
"Hm, maybe a dozen? Say, let us head this way—" he said, immediately taking off for a destination unknown. I trotted after him, glad for the exercise but wishing I'd gotten in shape prior to my adventures.
The establishments in this ring seemed of a class higher than the one right off the lobby level, and I tried to imagine how much more upscale the next several rings would be. Certainly there were fewer cheap souvenir stands and cheap restaurants; here were proper cafés and real sit-down places, and clothing stores like you might find planetside, in any old city or dome. No crystal glasses or chandeliers yet, but maybe we'd get to see those eventually, too.
Jones and I had just passed a small nook selling electronics when I met my first alien.
Most of the crowd had looked human so far, but this xeno could definitely not be mistaken for Homo sapiens sapiens. It stood on six legs, not two, and had a large, bulbous body balanced atop them. It started to turn in our direction, and I spotted two small, spindly arms curled under its head, which seemed to consist of four stalked eyes above a chitinous beak. It waved it pair of longer antennae idly, as the smaller set stroked its mandibles.
"Oh, what luck!" Jones said, steering us over. "A Ktchinian!"
I flashed back to Jones telling me that he'd stuck an entire arm down the throat of one of these things, and was at least reassured that they couldn't be that scary, if he could do that and still have all of his limbs. I followed him across the way.
Jones waved one arm to get the alien's attention. It turned, moving all of its legs with an eerie grace, and bobbed itself up and down a few times. The Ktchinian walked over to join us, too.
As we approached, I tried not to stare at its round, reddish-brown hide, instead focusing on what appeared to be a tote bag hanging from around what might be its neck. That, at least, looked plain enough, without any designs or colors or anything.
Jones spoke first.
"Greetings! What brings a Ktchin to this side of the galaxy?"
I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but at least the strange buzzing noise didn't take me by surprise. Maybe if it had spoken Eng-Galactic instead. The sound went on for a moment, changing audibly now and again. Jones nodded along.
"Well, good luck with that, my friend."
"Wait," I said, "You could understand all that?"
Jones and the alien looked at me as though I'd asked a very silly question.
"You can't?"
"Bzz brrzzkt rrRRrchk." At least, that's what it sounded like.
"I don't even know any Sino-Galactic," I said, opening my hands in supplication. "I'm from Phaderen, remember?"
For all my lack of linguistic skills, Jones and the alien seemed to make up, and exceed, me.
"Ah, I can translate for you," Jones said, and the Ktchinian made some waving motion with its eyestalks, and then reached one delicate, two-fingered hand into its pouch. It pulled out what looked to be a piece of thick paper or cardboard, and scratched a small mark on one square of a much larger grid.
"What's that?" I said, staring at the paper. "Is that a Bingo square?"
"Actually, it is!" Jones said. "Gchxxt here is a tourist, and he's in a wager with a friend of his to find as many exoplanetary folk as he can. It's a type of business where he's from, very serious…" Gchxxt waved his eyestalks again, and clicked some new message. Jones laughed, then translated.
"Ha! He said he's sure to win, since Phaderens are so uncommon… looks like you're doing him a favor, Norm."
"Oh, uh, you're quite welcome?"
Gchxxt appeared to understand what I was saying perfectly well, since he said another phrase that Jones told me was a very polite and enthusiastic response. It just made sense—I couldn't imagine trying to make the sounds required to speak Ktchinese, nor a Ktchin trying to speak a human tongue.
The two of them launched into another conversation, while I stood aside, feeling awkward. I wasn't used to being unable to communicate… there are not very many languages native to back home, although there were several dialects. I tried listening to Jones' side of the conversation, and heard my name mentioned. Probably he was finally introducing us.
Gchxxt made a motion in my direction, bouncing on those long legs of his, extending them so he reached his full height of no more than fifteen decimeters. I smiled, since that seemed the only proper, politely confused response.
"He wishes you a safe and expedient return home," Jones told me, and Gchxxt bounced again.
"Thanks, you too," I said. "And good luck finding people?"
"Xxcht!" And with that, he maneuvered himself around and walked away.
Jones smiled after him, hands back in his pockets. "Ktchinians are good people. Still on the primitive side, as far as technology goes, but they're an amiable lot."
"He seemed nice enough," I said, deciding against trying my luck in pronouncing his name.
"Too many people think of them like children," Jones continued, walking off again. I followed a few paces behind. "They're really curious, so they'll try anything and everything. And they love humans, since we're their First Contacters. A lot of them have interests in our tech and culture that border on obsession, or philia."
"It's been a while," I said, "But I think I'm starting to remember a few facts now. My last galactic history class was back in school, though, and that's years ago…"
"It's never too late to learn," Jones said, or possibly quoted. "Hopefully we'll run into a few more xenofolk while we're here!"
I tried thinking back to that long-ago class, trying to recall the number and types of races scattered across the galaxy as we knew it. There were a large variety of nonsapient species, but comparatively few sapient ones. Humans were the most common by far.
A lot of people were disappointed upon realizing that humanity was the most technologically and culturally advanced creature in the known universe. I felt rather reassured by it, myself. For the rest, there were other galaxies left to explore. We might as well begin looking at Andromeda, seeing as how we'd be close neighbors in the next billion years or so, once our two galaxies collided.
What would that new system be known as? Maybe some distant descendant of mine would think of something clever that would stick. Now that'd be a thought.
Most of the passerbys were of the human variety, much to Jones' disappointment. After a bit more walking, our stomachs reminded us of other worthy searches, and soon after we settled for a place selling what they claimed was Martian-inspired cuisine. Having never had Martian food before, I couldn't tell if they were quite truthful about their claims; it was filling, though, if only halfway decent.
Jones and I found a cushioned bench outside to rest and digest on. My feet were certainly grateful for the break.
"I've been picking my brain for the last half of a standard hour," I said, having decided to pick up where I left off. "I haven't a clue what the other sapient races are."
"Still mulling over that, are you?" Jones said, and hummed. He turned his head left, and then right, as though scanning the crowd. Finally, he nodded toward a shop window showcasing jewelry. "Well, I see a trio of Tailies looking at something," he said. I squinted, but at this distance everyone was at least humanoid. No Ktchinians in there that I could see.
"What're they?"
"The next most advanced species," he said. "The closest in appearance, too, though that's not saying all that much. Maybe the Lividians are closer, but no one knows much about them yet."
It wasn't much of an explanation, but I took what I got.
"Isn't there also a species of small animal-type ones, too?"
"Hexans? Ha, looks like we're jogging your memory. I doubt we'll see any of those out here, to be honest—no one's really comfortable with that whole group-mind thing they have."
"Or space giraffes, either, I'd guess."
"Govilians, Norm. No, they're half a dozen meters too tall to fit into any way station we have."
"That big?" I tried to visualize half a dozen meters.
"When home is a moon with low gravity…"
"So we'll be lucky to see any aliens at all while we're here?"
"Well, Tailies and Ktchinians are common enough—"
"It doesn't sound like a lot of them get around, though."
Jones shrugged. "If you're interested in sapient species, there are neo-cetaceans and Corvidians, and a few other uplifted Terran species, including some engineered cyborg ones."
"Hey, you're the one who wanted to show me around. It's not like I have an alien Bingo card like your friend the Ktchin."
"Want me to make you one?"
I laughed, but though about it.
"What happens if I don't have it done by the time I get back home?"
"Pick up where we left off?"
That gave me a moment's pause. I was so fixated on getting home that the idea of me leaving it again hadn't crossed my mind.
Would I ever travel again?
The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to.
Eventually. I would just have to enjoy myself in the meantime.
We tarried for a while longer, before staggering to our feet to begin a search for quarters. Neither of us had been tired before our meal, but the supposed Martian-inspired food had made the both of us very sleepy. Fortunately, we did not need to go far to find a suitable hotel.
Compared to the one we'd stayed at on Galeron VI, the way station hotel was smaller and more cheaply furnished. Really, there were no suites, but rather small cubicles stacked three high, all in one largish room. A set of bathrooms at either end were the only amenities.
I was too tired to voice any doubts as to our comfort, and Jones finished business with the auto receptionist quickly. He handed me my ticket and a punch card—very archaic. We walked over to the cubes with our respective numbers on their windowless doors, which happened to be next to each other, and on the top row. A climb up a short ladder took me to a small slot, with printed instructions. Following these, I inserted my card and withdrew it; a light changed to green, and the door creaked open.
A light lit itself automatically, and I climbed inside.
The cubical was almost two meters deep and not quite a meter tall, though at least a meter or eleven decimeters wide. The floor was one giant mattress, which seemed sufficiently clean and soft enough for my needs. I found a blanket and a pillow with a fresh pillowcase resting in some shelf-like indentations in the wall, which also came equipped with some outlets, speakers, and several cabinet doors which led to small nooks.
Surprisingly cozy, all things considered.
I spun around to face the open door, found a place to stash my card and bag, and pulled the blanket over myself. Given five minutes I would have been fast asleep, but Jones appeared in my door before that could happen.
"Hey, how long do you want to sleep for? I think these things come equipped with alarm clocks, so we could set a time to wake up, if you want."
That nap earlier really hadn't done much, or so my body claimed. I really wanted to go to sleep.
"I don't know. I might pass out for a while—at least eight hours, maybe. Nine, if I'm as exhausted as I feel."
"Fair enough," Jones said, stifling a yawn. "Let's rest up."
"Just knock when you wake up," I told him.
"Same to you. Sweet dreams."
I closed the door, and the lights dimmed, but did not turn off right away. I located the alleged alarm clock, which turned out to be a simple seven-segment clock embedded into the wall next to my head. I fiddled with the buttons underneath until I figured I'd set an alarm, and rolled over and went to sleep.