Chapter 11

Enedelia returned to work and proved to be more productive than before, suggesting the expenditure on her health had been worth it. She was indeed grateful, but the bigger part of it was that she actually felt happy because there was hope that something else was possible. She was enjoying work and her meals with Jeden and Drie. Even Moa was becoming less scary with time. It wasn’t like working with a trained lion or tiger. She would probably feel more affection towards a big cat, but it was definitely less scary. She was no less vigilant about safety. She never forgot that she nearly cost her friend his life with her slip up. Nearly cost her her own life, but she was less worried about the loss of her own than her friend’s. Still work was work, and she always went home physically exhausted. The best part of her day was returning to her “coffin” as she called it, to find her two little companions waiting for her. The moment she opened the door, they were there waiting for her, and would start dancing a little dance, their mouths open, and barking a little wheezed cough like sound. Their dance consisted of locking their legs at the knees, hunching their back, tail straight up, and bouncing around in a circle, baring teeth and looking all menacing. It was the funniest, hyper looking thing she ever saw, but there was no way to mistake their enthusiasm at seeing her for anything than pure joy. It was like releasing bottled sunlight! This was called their “war dance.”

She loved her little room mates so much that she didn’t mind the fact that they nipped her toes whenever she was asleep. Of course, she couldn’t have that. She needed her rest so that she wouldn’t make mistakes at work, and so she had to train them not to bite. It took two weeks of patience and vigilance to do this, and she did it by shouting when they bit her, grabbing them by the scruff of the neck, and telling them in a stern voice, “no.” When this failed, she gave them a time out in the tiny, cloth, carrying case that they had come in. She didn’t once hit them or thump their nose, because that would only make them more aggressive. When they slept, they slept curled up on either side of her head. It wasn’t hard for them to establish a routine. Breakfast and dinner together, going for work and coming home, it was all clock-work. There was only one day that they hadn’t greeted her, and her first thought was that they had escaped. She climbed in to see if they were curled up in the small food cubby hole, nearly putting all the weight on her new pillow as she did so. As soon she touched the pillow, she knew they were sleeping inside the pillow case. They came out to greet her as soon as she touched it.

The ferrets were the most unique animals she had ever met. They were not like a cat or a dog by any means. They very curious little animals, always inspecting her backpack, and pulling trinkets out. They enjoyed taking her ear ring and her watch when she removed them for the night. They also started hiding food pellets in her pillow case, which prompted her to reduce the food portions to only enough for them to eat at one meal. They had accepted her as if she were just another ferret, never questioning her place in their world. She named the male Taz, and the female Minuet.

In addition to the ferrets and her friendship with the Grays, another thing that kept her going was the dream of having her own spaceship. It was a whole month of dreaming before she acted on the impulse to go inquire about rates, and what kind of ships were available. She knew it was a month because she had been keeping track of time by her watch and had made marks in a diary she had begun. If she hadn’t done this, she would have lost all track of time, since everyday was the same on Indigo Station. Owning a spaceship was a goal, and since she was managing to save most of her pay, which wasn’t difficult seeing how she really had no wants, other than occasional snacks and pet food, but even if she did want something, there was nowhere to keep stuff if she bought it; but still, she needed to know how much a spaceship cost so that she could know exactly how long she would have to save. Or slave? Was there a reason why saving was only one letter off from being slaving? Her curiosity got the better of her, and so one day after work, after feeding the little varmints, she decided to head to the mall on her own and do just that.

The spaceship store was neatly arranged with desks for customers and clerks to work together, with images of various types of ships flashing on various screens strategically placed around the room. The screens revealed data, such as ship numbers, technical drawings, dynamic views, and the like. There was also a display case with various models of ships, and what she assumed to be models of various types of engine technologies. One display seemed to offer a whole series of potential upgrades. She hardly had time to inspect one of the models before a clerk greeted her eagerly just past the door.

“Hello, my name is Bindler,” the man said. “I am your friendly BioCorp representative. How might I assist you today?”

“Well, I’m interested in getting my own spaceship. I was wondering if you could educate me about such things,” Enedelia said.

He smiled, took her by the arm, and led her over to a chair. He took his chair opposite of her, the desk between them. “If you’ll look here,” he said, indicating his desk top, “I can show you several models. Of course, everything is dependent on the sort of traveling you will be doing.”

“Oh, I don’t want anything fancy,” Enedelia assured him. “I would like to live on the ship, though.”

“Good choice,” Bindler agreed.

“I just want to travel and see the Universe,” Enedelia said. “And maybe go home occasionally.”

“Yes, yes,” Bindler said. “And how would you be paying today?”

“Oh, I won’t be buying today,” Enedelia said. “I was just curious, and I thought I might ask about your financing plan.”

“Sure. May I access your credit history?” Bindler asked.

“I guess,” Enedelia said, placing her hand on the desk.

“Um, uh,” Bindler said. “Excellent. You have a history. You’re buying pet food, bought a pillow, and some clothing, but have never extended yourself into debt. Very fiscally responsible. I could put you in our starter model today.”

“Really?” Enedelia almost screamed

“You bet,” Bindler said. “It’s a Scout Class ship, but it exceeds the parameters that you’ve shared with me so far. Could you make payments of ten thousand credits a month?”

“Ten thousand?!” Enedelia said, and then lowered her voice. She was only making sixty credits a week. “No. I guess not. Sorry to waste your time.”

“Wait, not so fast. If you would prefer doing odd jobs for BioCorp, in lieu of making payments, we can still make an arrangement,” Bindler said. “We’re always in need of new pilots willing to expedite merchandise from station to station, deliver cargo or special passengers to various destinations, or, more excitingly, for those seriously daring pilots that are willing to map out new sectors of space to bring us back good Jump Coordinates, we have even a better package deal. Does any of this sound like something you would be willing to do?”

“You mean, in exchange for a ship, I would work for BioCorp?” Enedelia said.

“Yes, and with the successful completion of a standard number of missions, you can buy out your contract, and then you will own your ship clear and free,” Bindler said.

“So, how many missions are we talking about?” Enedelia asked, a weary voice in her head saying forget about this. Run away!

“If you were to successfully map out one new system a month, for four years, you would have enough credit to buy your contract out from BioCorp,” Bindler said.

Enedelia thought about that. Her mother had bought a car on credit, with a five year contract. One mission a month didn’t sound too bad.

“So, are you interested?” Bindler asked. “It is easier work than the Moa Pits, that’s for sure. You just fly the ship and your on-board computer takes sensor readings for the surveys, mapping out the areas you’ve discovered. Then you return, give us the maps and surveys, and you’re free to go anywhere you want. You’ll have the rest of the month free.”

“What if the map isn’t good or I don’t find a new system?” Endelia asked.

“We’ll just extend the contract terms until the ship is paid for,” Bindler said. “You don’t have to worry that we’ll repossess the ship. All Bio ships are imprinted on their pilot, so no one else can fly the ship. It can’t even be stolen. This ship is yours for the rest of your life. We can offer upgrades as your needs expand and we will help maintain the health of your BioShip.”

“What is this BioShip?” Enedelia asked.

“A BioShip is a living entity…” Bindler began.

“You mean, I’d be flying around in a living thing?” Enedelia asked.

“Well, yes. It’s much more efficient and safer than say flying around in a metal construct. We can grow a dozen ships in the same time they can build one metal ship. Our ships have no stability issues, because their naturally conceived, which makes them easier to upgrade. If they take on minor damage, they have healing capacities that save you the trouble of reporting back to a space dock every time you turn around. They’re more maneuverable, they’re quicker, more energy efficient… They beat metal constructs hands down. And they’re extremely safe. Did I say that already? I can’t express how important safety is in space travel. So what do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Enedelia was still hesitant. She had never heard of living inside of a living creature. Well, there was the Jonah story, but… “I should really think this over.”

“I agree. It’s a big step,” Bindler agreed, ever pleasant, his smile never waning. “The thing is, if you were to decide this instant, I can get you into a ship just under the wire. If I can’t get you into a ship in the next hour, you’ll have to wait till next season, a year from now.”

“Next year?” Enedelia asked.

“It takes time to grow ships,” Bindler said. “No, don’t look all fraught. I get no commission from the sale of these ships, so I’m not pressuring you to buy now. I just want to give you as much data as necessary for you to make an informed decision.”

“They’re safe?” Enedelia asked.

“Very, very safe,” Bindler said.

“There’s no dangers at all?” Enedelia asked.

“Well,” Bindler said. “As with any endeavor, there is always some risk. Comparing it to something you know, well, it is statistically safer than say driving in a car on the highways of your home planet. The most dangerous activity you will engage in is the maneuver known as a Blind Jump.”

“I don’t understand,” Enedelia said.

“The Quantum Drive is what makes interstellar travel possible. Without it, there is no interstellar travel. Activating the device releases a certain amount of energy, sufficient enough that it will push you out of space time into another dimension. It will feel like an up down experience, but it is really none of that. Because all matter wants to stay in space/time, as soon as the QD energy has dissipated, you will return to space/time. If you have good coordinates, you return to normal space in the general vicinity you were aiming for. No coordinates, there’s no telling where you will end up. You could end up inside a star, inside a planet, or in interstellar space, light years from anything.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Enedelia said.

“It can be scary. It is probably the most uncertain thing you will ever have to face as a pilot. I say probably because the most terrifying thing is probably encountering an un-known species. That would frighten me more than the blind jump, but, some people like first contacts. But if you consider the vastness of empty space, you’re statistically most likely to end up in interstellar space. In that case, you wait for your Quantum Drive to recharge and head home. Anyway, where-ever your ship is, it will instantly determine a radius of one light year’s worth of “Live Coordinates.” Live Coordinates are any coordinates that are viable this very instant. “Good coordinates” are anything under three months old, but can’t be considered one hundred percent viable. Anything older than three months are considered expired. Expired coordinates are as bad as jumping blind. You could jump one light year at a time, but it takes an average of three days for your QD to charge. So, let’s say your destination is 90 light years away, it will take you 270 days to travel that distance, plus or minus other variables. Still, 270 days is a far cry better than what it would take using standard propulsion. So if you come out of a blind jump within one light year of an unmapped solar system, you pretty much just met your monthly quota for BioCorp.”

“I don’t understand. Why do coordinates expire?” Enedelia asked.

“Because the Universe is continually unfolding, expanding, changing,” Bindler said. “The other dimensions do not correspond to any predictable, coordinate system that can be applied to a three dimensional map of our Universe. For example, even though theoretically we could jump anywhere in the Universe, all recorded jumps on file are within the Milky Way Galaxy, with one exception. There was one person who managed to return with viable coordinates to the Andromeda Galaxy. He retired a wealthy man. Without those coordinates, an expedition to reach the Andromeda Galaxy would take tens of thousands of years. Look, this technology is older than the Universe itself. We didn’t create it. We just use it. It has been very consistent and reliable. Very safe.”

“How can a technology be older than the Universe itself,” Enedelia asked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Bindler laughed. “No, it doesn’t. But if you find the answer to that, not only could you pay off your contract, you would become rich enough to buy an entire fleet of ships. Even metal ships!”