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.Excelsior	By : keithcompany Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Gulliver's Travels Views: 2164 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on Gullivers Travels by Jonathan Swift.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
I popped my restraints and stepped to the view port. I always had to stop for the view. It was the Gilbert Islands space elevator, and the view faced east. We were dropping into the sunrise and the ocean was inky darkness with a line of color marching across.
The admiral, however, had long ago sated that explorer’s urge to look out view ports. He cleared his throat shortly after we cleared Top Station 4. Duty turned me around, but curiosity forced me to try to catch a glimpse of Excelsior as I did. Unsuccessful, but undaunted, I sat down across the lounge from my superior.
For all that he’d hurried me up, he was slow to start. I’d know Admiral Mendez for 15 years, and hesitation on his part was not a good sign.
Still without talking, he took a magazine from his brief-net and handed it to me. On the cover a man in a Space Corps uniform stood in front of a giant boot. Strings from above, presumably in the hands of the Brobdingragian wearing the boot, controlled his hands and feet. Two Lilliputians stood on his shoulders with their own strings, controlling his head and mouth. I checked inside for the cover story, “Who’s driving us where?” and recognized the byline as my dad’s. The spaceman bore a passing resemblance to me.
I tossed the ‘zine back to Mendez. I waited for him to start talking. The elevator ride was four hours, there was no hurry. He sighed and started.
“Did you write that?”
“What? No, sir.”
“But that is your name, isn’t it?”
“Oh.” I realized what was happening here. “Sir, my dad really, really liked the name Paul. From the Bible. He liked it so much, he named five dogs Paul. After getting married, he named four of our cats Paul. I think I even remember Paul the Goldfish. He wanted to name me Paul. It’s the only fight they ever had that I know for a fact my mom won. I’m named after my grandfather, Benjamin, Paul’s my middle name.” I sighed.
“When Dad started writing for the Valley of Elah Homesteaders, he decided he needed a pseudonym. He had the incredible originality of picking ‘Paul.’ And his own last name.”
“So…” he asked, after a moment, “you have no problem with this mission?”
“Not a chance, sir.” He didn’t look completely convinced. “My dad didn’t join the Elah Valley until after I left home. I was already in the Corps by then. My understanding of the Alliance, and Alliance history, is a little different from Dad’s.” He made a ‘go ahead’ gesture, with a curious expression on his face.
“Okay. You know that the discovery of Brobdingrag was, at first, really popular with the Biblical literalists. They said it proved all the references to giants in the Old Testament were true.”
“Yes, I remember. But now they don’t?”
“Yes and no.” I got more than a few lectures on the history of the Alliance. Two gigantic fishermen waded ashore in San Francisco, sparking a search for the islands of Brobdingrag and Lilliput.
PETA was still looking for the Houyhnhnms. A talking horse would make a better spokes…person than models that wore leather pants.
“The literalists embraced the existence of giants, but never embraced any of them as individuals. If they are the biblical giants, then they’re the children of fallen angels.
“The pope made a big speech about the diversity of life in God’s plan, but pointed out that the Giants were clearly beyond the hope of Jesus’ salvation. Then the LDS church baptized their first Giant convert.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember the mega-bass singer in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.”
“Yes, sir. Argelliolius. He was baptized in the Lorbrulgrud Temple. When the other religious organizations saw what was spent on the new ward, and the way the press lapped up the new missionaries, they started getting revelations about the salvation of the multi-scaled.
“But the Valley of Elah Homesteaders kept to a more fundamentalist approach. They maintain that any dealing with the Giants is certainly dealing with Satan. And it seems clear, to them, that the Lilliputians are Satan-breathed as well.
“Then, the space explorations started finding life.   The creationists see all life on other planets as a trick of Satan. People who see our planet as a little bit less unique are starting to see their side as more appealing.”
Especially considering the ramifications of that life. On 9 out of the 10 planets that supported life, it was built on the same scale as the giants. Scientists were scrambling to become expert in the last Ice Age, where the fossil record showed the last giant sloths, giant tortoises, giant armadillos… And wondering if our planet was rare or unique in going to a smaller scale overall.
The tenth planet, of course, was the one I discovered. The only life form was a carpet of cotton candy looking stuff. It covered Whazzat from pole to pole. I guess you could call it ‘giant’ cotton candy.
“The people that want to stick to a ‘God made us special’ outlook are getting very outnumbered and very desperate.” I pointed to the magazine. “And now, they’re expanding from a purely theological platform to a political one.” Admiral Mendez sat back to consider for a minute. I pressed my point.
“Sir, I haven’t spoken with my Father since my Academy commencement. I haven’t agreed with him since he grounded me for escorting a Blefuscu foreign exchange student to the prom.
“I have worked with Alliance personnel in the corps for my entire career. For the last two years I’ve been building Excelsior with my crew: 30 standard humans, 20 elves and one giant. Most of them I’ve worked with before.” I leaned across the table towards him.
“I understand the connections: Human space mining gathered the resources for the Brobdingragian industry to build the space elevators. Elf computer tech helped giant energy researchers master the Hyper drive. Human operators manage the elf systems that make hyperspace navigation possible.
“The Excelsior is the first three-scale ship. I helped design it, I helped build it, it…it’s mine, sir. Don’t…don’t punish me for what my dad does.” He watched, a strange look in his eyes. Finally he leaned in towards me.
“I know how you’ve worked for this, Ben, and it’s just as much a dream for me, too. But you understand there’s a lot of scrutiny on this. It’s not just another command.” He started to fidget and turned to look out the view port.
I about freaked. This man once sentenced a man to death and never flinched. He didn’t look away at sentencing, or as the man was escorted into the airlock or as the outer door was open. I was the one the bastard shot, and I looked away at the end. Then-Captain Mendez felt his duty owed it to the uniform, if not the man. What the hell was going on?
“Understand that this isn’t my decision. It isn’t a Corps decision. But there are…issues in your engineer’s past. Things that will look bad if they come to light in the media fest of a launch or on a successful return.” Oh, crap. “The Council has decided to replace him.”
“With who, sir? Eggafederesh is the one Brobdingragian with anything resembling space experience. He was the best choice for the ship, the mission, hell, for the program! Unless he was one of the original Flyswatters, nothing he could have done…” I shut up when I saw his reaction to the Flyswatter remark. Oh, crappity crap crap. And I’d gotten drunk in that man’s jumper pocket…
“So…who is the replacement, sir?” There was little to look forward to. I had gone through all the personnel files when we picked Eggy and his backup.
“The King has graciously granted permission for his cousin to leave the planet.” I had a sinking feeling about this. “In fact, she was one of the physicists who helped develop the Version Delta Hyper drive. That’s the selling point we’ll give the press, the best choice to baby-sit the first deep space use of the VDH.”
“Cousin….?”
“Her Lady Albalureindis, Duchess of the Reaches of Lellegunch, and about 13th in line to the throne. She should be quite the asset to you on this mission.”
“Sir, I happen to know almost every giant that’s been in orbit. And Brobdingrag has no women in the military…”
“Well, that’s why you’re going down. She’s asked for a little, well, handholding on the trip up. And there’s still something you need to do.”
-------
The door screen warned that I was about to enter an occupied macro-scale room. I paused to check that my throat mike and earplugs were in place. Inside, I was on a catwalk ringing a two-seat capsule. Albalureindis occupied one, trying to get comfortable, a large satchel strapped in the other. I cleared my throat to let her know she wasn’t alone.
Her earplugs conveyed the sound to her, and actually gave hints as to the direction I was speaking from. But it was an acquired skill.
“Over to your left.” I stayed by the door, waving my arms. Surviving around 50-foot tall people was another acquired skill. She finally saw me.
“Oh. Hi!” She leaned over to offer one finger. “Are you Benjaminlewis? Please to meet you.”
“Actually, it’s two names,” I said, grasping her finger to shake, “Benjamin and Lewis. And more importantly, it’s traditional to refer to me as Captain Lewis.” She unconsciously touched her shoulder epaulets. The very new looking epaulets on her very new uniform.
I’m absolutely no good at guessing ages outside my own species. She looked, to me, to be about 20. That’d make her anything from 50 to 150, I’d guess. She was blonde, trim, and very nervous.
“Yes, sorry. Captain. I’m not used to military courtesies.” My reply was interrupted by the warning buzzer. She looked around in confusion. “Is there a problem?”
“No, Lady, that’s just a 15-minute warning before the elevator lifts.” I circled the catwalk over to the me-sized seat across from her and strapped in. My strapping in reminded her to do her own. I offered coaching where necessary and we were all secure by the second buzzer. As we waited, I noticed she looked worried.
“Is there a problem?” I asked. She looked closely at me for a second.
“I suppose I should tell you. Sir. I’m afraid of heights.” I nodded at that. Lots of people found that out only after the elevator started to rise. I reached over to blank the view port. That usually helped.
“Well, Albalureindis, a lot of people are uncomfortable on this thing, but they adapt quickly in space. Let’s hope you’re one of those.” Her eyebrows rose. “What?”
“Aren’t you going to comment? About a ‘giant’ that’s afraid of heights? Isn’t that silly? Everyone else thinks it’s silly. Especially any Englishman that finds out.” I nodded again.
“You ever see those fry-kids in the McDonald Land commercials? I had a dream once where a dozen of them were chasing me. Been terrified of them ever since. What scares us scares us, I’m in no position to call any of it silly. The only thing I’m interested in is if you can do your job despite the fear.” That gave her something to think about until about 2 minutes after lift-off. She never even noticed.
“I was starting to say, I am aware of your lack of military experience. How are you at personnel?”
“What, taking orders? I guess I’m alright. If they make sense.” Wonderful. Nothing an officer likes more than a subordinate weighing orders before obeying.
“No, I meant giving them. You’re going to be in charge of the engineering department.”
“What?!” Her voice rose to where I could feel it reverberate in my bones. “Hilly told me I was only responsible for my engine!” ‘Hilly’ would be King Esthillioguburb. She was in for a shock.
“Okay, first off, you’re a Duchess. That’s supposed to be a position of leadership.” I overrode her protests of only being interested in tech, not nobility. Well, overrode generally implies excess volume which was beyond me. I just kept talking until she shut up.
“Two, your King ‘Hilly’ has been trying to get women into his military for 80 years. You’re in a position to help him with that.”
“But I’m just…”
“Just in the Space Corps, right. You’ve received an honorary rank which will be made permanent on successful completion of your first tour. That’ll give his highness a wedge to open your other branches to women. IF you do well.” I undid my restraints and started walking around the catwalk under her surprised gaze.
“Three, the Excelsior was built around your hyper-drive. No one else really knows enough to give you orders on it.
“And finally, my Engineering department head hates the position. But she loves the work. If you delegate everything to her, she’ll leave you alone and keep the ship running. Without you. If you’re smart, though, you’ll get involved and accept her input. Then you’ll learn how run a department.” I got the thoughtful look out of her for a while, then she suddenly focused me again.
“Shouldn’t you be in your chair?”
“The restraints are only required when the car starts moving. We’ve been underway for, what, ten minutes?” I cleared the view port and the sunset over Indonesia took both our attention away. We were still in the atmosphere and got the effects of the sunset colors. It was so shockingly beautiful she forgot to be scared.
After a few minutes, we returned to our conversation. She undid her restraints, racked the belts, then sat on the edge of her seat and unzipped her jumper. She mumbled something about the bra driving her crazy, and removed it. I was familiar enough with the basic design of the zero-gravity bra to see that she had it on wrong. I wasn’t able to force out a single word to help her, though. I stood stunned at the sight of her secondary reproductive characteristics waving back and forth before me.
Finally she donned the thing again and pulled her jumper back on. She stretched and twisted, checking the fit. I swallowed a few times, until I was able to talk again.
“You had a splacnuck as a pet when you were a kid, didn’t you?” She nodded, one eyebrow raised curiously. “I know because I had a crewman from Australia once.” She blinked at the non-sequitor.
“Tracey was from a nudist colony. Every time we blinked, there was Tracey, naked as a j-bird, insisting WE were the ones with modesty issues. I finally had to actually enforce the uniform regulations on ship between orbits.
“Now, I’m not one to suggest that beautiful women should never undress in front of me. I always enjoy a good view of…of a good view. But you did just treat me like an insignificant pet, there.” Albalureindis’ hands covered her bosom as she realized what she’d done. “Alone in your room, with no one watching but the things in the cage, that’s alright. But in company, you might want to pretend that others matter, no matter what size they are.” Her blush was all a captain could desire from a subordinate who’d made a mistake. Meanwhile I was mentally wiping my brow that she hadn’t done it in front of the media.
“I’m sorry, Lady, I came here to make you less uncomfortable on the trip up, not more.” I gestured towards the exit. “If you’d be more comfortable, I can leave you alone until we get to the station.” She nodded and I stepped to the hatch. I turned before leaving. “One more thing, as long as we’re alone and embarrassed. It’s a tradition that you drink a lot of water before transferring to the Excelsior. Somewhere between superstition and etiquette. So, drink up before we get in the shuttle.” I left before she could ask where that tradition came from. It’d keep her mind occupied for a while. She was a smart one, though, and I had no doubts she’d figure it out, and the rather off-color implications, before long.
-------------
I spent the rest of the lift on the screen, cleaning up loose ends. I affirmed that my Engineer, Katya Antonov, was okay with being Assistant Engineer, my Surgeon was prepared for a female giant, the elves knew not to hide cameras in her stateroom, and that Eggy was the hell off my ship. I also arranged for a woman from Weapons to train the Duchess on the use of the zero-gravity brassiere and the plumbing connections on the spacesuit.
That inspired another phone call to what turned out to be a rather frantic foreman of the crafting shop. He’d had about as much heads up as I had and was scouring the orbits for suitably-scaled spacesuit parts. I gave him permission to cannibalize my former engineer’s suit and gained a lifelong friend. I called back to tell Antonov that a work crew would be collecting the suit.
As the lift arrived at Top Station, the press were at the door in full force. Albalureindis was pretty, poised and wonderfully non-committal. She handled the questions well, or referred the questioner to Space Corps HQ, the royal embassy or her tailor’s URL as needed. The hounds lapped up her every word, and her smile dazzled the cameras. She hadn’t even seen Excelsior yet, and the program was making a media profit off of her. The black cloud of impending doom started to fade to an angry gray in my mind.
Admirals of all three scales of the Alliance made a production of welcoming her to the station, to the Corps and to my ship. I’d gotten my 10 minutes of fame with Whazzat? so I just stayed near, unnoticed. They had photo ops of her against view ports, meeting the other giants on the station, drinking a few barrels of water and holding an entire field trip of Taiwanese Space Scouts in her hands.
Finally we were alone again, in the cargo bay of a station shuttle. She lay flat on the deck in the cramped space, with her bag on top of her legs. I sat in a jump seat near her head.
“I figured it out.” She announced as we drifted towards our ship. “I wondered if the drink-water thing was a trick to play on the new girl? Having me nearly burst looking for a restroom in this shuttle? But it didn’t seem that the skipper would get involved in such a jape. So then I thought about where water comes from on the ship.
“I know that it’s recycled. And the Doc and Engineering go to great lengths to keep the freshwater tanks full before we leave. So any chance to get new water is a good thing.” She turned to see me nodding approval to her. “So…a full bladder of water is my contribution, a way of bringing water aboard without having to arrange a tanker call.”
“Yes. It’s usually a rather meaningless superstition, but it’s considered polite. Like saying ‘gesundheit’ even though no one really thinks that your soul is vulnerable to demons when you sneeze.
“The amount of free…um, water that a crewman can bring aboard is negligible. Probably doesn’t even make up for the unavoidable losses in system inefficiency. But it is expected. And in your case…” She blushed again, but only lightly. Then she squirmed around to reach into her bag.
“That,” she noted, “would explain my commissioning gift. When Admiral Dynackatchik swore me in and made me a commander, he said this would bring me luck on patrol.” She pulled out a bottle of water. The tank-sized container was crystal clear, with an understated label on the side. “He gave me six, is that okay?”
“Is that...?” She smiled. The bottle was from a spring under the Castle in Lorbrulgrud. The king’s private spring, used for his personal family and very, very close friends. His royal stock of whiskey used this water. Those that were in a position to know claimed it was the best tasting water on the planet, bar none.
The one bottle she was showing me was worth about as much as the shuttle we were in. And that was assuming you could buy one without incurring a charge of treason and trespassing against the giant king.
“I’d…um, yeah, that’s okay. I wouldn’t show anyone else, if I were you. Wouldn’t promote good order and discipline, if the crew was green with envy.”
“Oh. No, sir, I was intending to share these. Two for me, three for the English and one for the Lilliputians?”
“That’s…that’s incredibly generous, Albalureindis. But really, you have to stop calling us ‘the English.’ I know it’s been the custom since Gulliver was among you, but we’re not all from England. And even though Lilliput conquered Blefuscu and Ooopatel ages ago, it’s kind of insulting to call every little person a Lilliputian.”
“So, what do I call you all?”
“Crew, usually. Shipmates, department personnel, whatever. If you have to make distinctions by size, it’s giants, humans, and elves. But the water sharing is a great idea. I’d wait until our one-month-out party. It’ll be a big hit.” She smiled agreement. Just then a ship came into view out of the port on my side of the shuttle.
“Is that the Excelsior?”
“No, that’s one of the colonization ships:   The Sundering of the Silent Spaces by Science and Spirit. It’ll deliver a crew of 20 giants to a planet to start building a base. Its sister ship, the Big Can, will follow on with 2000 human and elf colonists to support the base and build the first city.” Albalureindis grimaced.
“You know, it took Hilly about four days to come up with that name. I hear it took your president about 5 minutes for hers.”
“She always was rather…abrupt, for a politician.” I agreed. I pointed out the view port on her side of the craft. “Now that…that’s Excelsior.”
Sunlight shadowed the hull, dramatically displaying the curve of Excelsior’s form. She was a large egg. The ‘bigend’ was engineering, with the in-system drive wrapped around the hyper drive components. Above them were Albalureindis’ spaces, a small apartment all to herself. Four decks above that were given to human crew spaces, and the top littleend section was the sensor suite. Elf spaces were crammed in wherever they fit.
The shuttle finished turning and braked for docking. I was up and walking towards the door when it fell away from the commander’s feet. She scooted out awkwardly, then stood in her level. It reminded me of the old blimp hangar at the Academy. Consoles soared over my head, the deck stretched out and away, and the sliding partitions seemed like an impossibly steep cliff. She looked left, right, and blew a puff of air through her lips.
“A bit cramped, isn’t it?” I think every giant that steps into a room built, or largely built by humans absolutely has to say that. I suspect that it’s a running gag in the giant part of the Space Corps.
“Cozy. Cozy is the official word the designers used. Know it, live it, love it.” The cargo door closed behind us. I saw by the screen that someone was coordinating the shuttle release from the Bridge.   Freed of that chore, I turned back to the Engineer and waved. “Pick me up, I’ll give you the tour.”
She scooped me up and held me about shoulder height. I directed her through her living quarters. Her work space took up half of her single level, a head that configured as either a toilet or a shower stood in one corner, and there was a bedroom where she had a choice of a desk or a bed at any given time. Yeah, maybe cramped was a better word.
In the center of the level was a steel tube about half again as wide as she was at her shoulders.
“That’s the access tube for all levels. The door there opens manually or hydraulically, and allows the movement of big pieces of equipment from your cargo door to any level necessary.”
“Why not just a big empty shaft?” she asked. “Wouldn’t that be more convenient?”
“We don’t need constant access through the ship. The design uses the metal of the tube for structural support. There are doors and baffles to improve atmospheric isolations in case of emergency.”
“Oh. Could I fit through it?” It was an innocent enough question, but I had a tiny little anxiety attack right then and there in her hands. Eggy could have climbed up any time, and reached any of us. I shivered, then tried to shake it off.
“Um, yeah. Yeah, I think you could. All the way up to the sensor suite. It’d speed up repairs and rework, if you could move what it’d take a 20 man working party to haul along that thing. Um, back to work.” I pointed to the covered catwalk that ringed the room and she lowered me to a ledge that always reminded me of the scenic overlooks at Niagara Falls.
At a console there I took control of her primary display. She sat at her own board and observed. I showed her how NAVSHIP implemented her engine interface designs into the control console, the various databases attached, and the mimicking of the controls in Maneuvering. Then we covered how she could tour the rest of the ship by accessing the screens and cameras throughout the spaces.
As I conducted the virtual tour, crew started congregating at the lookout. She seemed surprised as I finished, when she turned to me and found thirty people looking back at her.
“Oh. That’s why all the spaces are empty. Everyone’s here.”
“As a matter of fact, everyone is.” I waved her closer. On the back wall of the catwalk a small subway car waited with the elf complement. She squinted until she realized what I was pointing at, then turned back to the console. Quick as a wink, she found and called up the cameras that showed the car and the overlook. Everyone turned to the cameras and waved, cheering her rapid adaptation to the situation.
I introduced, through the cameras, our crew: my elf Executive Officer Ruspahar; the elf techies of Computers, and Communications; Doc and his four nurses –male and female, elf and human; the ten Weaponeers; the Supply officer and his loyal minion; and saved Engineering for last.
I dismissed the others to their various tasks and took a bit more time introducing her to her department. The fifteen of them all seemed eager to welcome Albalureindis, if intensely curious about why Eggafederesh had been so summarily replaced. I followed her station performance and referred all such questions to the Royal Embassy in San Francisco. They took the hint and shut up.
I took Antonov aside and told her to make sure her new boss was up to speed on space operations. I told her about the difficulties with the bra (skipping over the topless scene). I said it was up to her whether or not a woman from weapons would be a better choice in demonstrating the necessaries. Whether being in or out of the chain of command would be more appropriate for such subjects. She muttered ‘men’ under her breath and turned away. So, I guess I’d worried for nothing. After six patrols with Katya, I should just figure she can handle anything I give her and get out of her way.
I turned to the subway station, where my XO remained. I picked him up and put him in my pocket. “Let’s discuss the new watchbill,” I said, walking towards the up shaft. “And a shorter nickname for Albalureindis.”
------
“A lot of people are counting on this, Lewis.” I smiled stiffly towards the honored guests crowding my bridge and replied to the Commodore.
“Yes, ma’am. I understand that, ma’am. Four, ma’am.”
“Four what?”
“Hmm? Oh. Sorry, never mind that. Rest assured that my crew is doing their absolute best for the ship, the mission, the entire Three-Scale space program, Commodore. One hundred and ten percent, and all that.” She gave me a lowered eyebrow as she walked away, but she did walk away. She gathered her gaggle of reporters and moved on to the crew quarters.
So far, the darlings of the media attention were Reins, down in Engineering, and the elves in the RealBridge. The RealBridge was the domed small-scale room in the center of the Conn. Every work station on the ship could be operated from there. Today the elves were conducting the major parts of the countdown while the humans conducted tours and kept reporters out of sensitive areas. Everyone watched them running the final tests, coordinating and sending off status reports.
The big thing for my security officer posted at the RB was to prohibit flash photography. I’d expected Weps to pick her biggest, meanest SO to intimidate. Instead, she’s stationed SO Foster there. The small but dangerously clever man was perfect for the task. He kept a man-overboard searchlight aimed at the reporters at all times, with his thumb on the switch. Designed to sweep the deep darkness to find disconnected space workers, it had enough candle watts to turn an orca into an X-ray fish.
The threat of poetic justice kept the media compliant, and no flashes disrupted my crew.
My satisfaction at that was marred by my VIP visitors. They constantly suggested that I might not be aware of the honor of my billet. I was just getting into a good teeth grinding about the next wave of tours when I felt a weight on my left shoulder.
“How’s it going, handsome?” I recognized the voice, and manner, of Lissisi. My Software Officer wasn’t really in Space Corps. She was a civilian working for the MicroMicrosoft company that made our operational networks, posted as part of the contract to keep everything running. As such, she was less formal in her dealings with me. I turned slightly to the little woman and spoke out of the side of my mouth.
“I suppose it’s appropriate that you’re on my left shoulder. That’s where the devil part of a conscience is supposed to stand, on the ‘sinister’ side.” She whipped the side of my head with the line she’d used to lower herself down from the cable runs in the overhead.
“Are you calling me evil?!”
“Aren’t you here to stir up trouble?”
“Not so much,” she replied, “more to take a measure of. What’s the count? And what are we counting?”
“Today, I decided that if twenty more people reminded me of ‘what’s riding on this,’ I am going to start screaming until security is forced to wrestle me to the deck. The count is down to four.” I eyed a lieutenant commander coming over towards me and whispered a quick, “Maybe three.”
I never knew if the LtCdr. was intending to advance my countdown. About half way through making sure I knew who he was and what office he represented, he noticed my little shoulder angel. I refused to look at her, but it felt like she was doing fan kicks. His voice petered out and his jaw dropped a bit. I tolerated being ignored for a moment while, then tapped his shoulder. I pointed behind him where his tour group was leaving. He ran off without even a thank you. The performer on my shoulder ran down and started laughing.
“You’re an evil, evil woman, you know that don’t you?”
“Why do you think I’m on your sinister side?” I picked Lissisi up and set her next to the RealBridge entry, gesturing her back to work. I gave Foster a thumbs up and started working my way through the spaces.
Down in Reins’ room, tiers of temporary seats were installed for our passengers on her worktable. The first plan was to bolt them to the floor, but the Engineer complained that viewing from that from down there, they couldn’t see her screens, they wouldn’t feel involved, and there was a safety hazard if she had to take emergency measures with the engines.
Besides, she finished, views from that angle made her ass look big. I’m still not sure if she was joking.
Anyway, the view stands were aimed over her shoulder at her engine displays and the repeaters from the bridge screens. Crew reports, system screens, ship status and observer commentary (read: translations for the civilians) were available to each reporter depending on their readership interest.
I gave a very short pre-launch speech, reflected on specific efforts by elf, human and giant crew to get us to this point, then left Admiral Mendez to run the pony show. The path back to the Conn took me across Reins’ console.
The day before, I’d told her that she’d come a long way since she boarded. I was perfectly confident in her ability to conduct the launch as Engineer. But if she wasn’t, I was willing to be there for her.
“More handholding, sir?”
“Well, look how well it worked last time. You made it to orbit without any anxiety attacks.”
“Does Corps HQ want you by me, to keep me from blundering?”
“Corps,” I admitted, “wants me to leave you alone, as if you were a trusted professional, there to do a job for reasons of merit, not politics. I’m not asking what that Admiralty wants, I’m asking what you want.
“Antonov will be at the other end of your headset to support you. Hell, the whole department exists to support you, and you already know the script for tomorrow. You can do it. But it’s a new ship, a new engine, and your first time out of the Solar System. It’d be perfectly natural to want a little moral support.” She’d thought it over, but declined my offer.
So today, I gave her a nod as I passed, she winked with the eye the reporters couldn’t see.
On the Conn, I gave the command and we left orbit. The ship responded nicely, even better than the simulations and test runs had indicated. It felt like Excelsior was as ready to get out into deep space as her crew. We ramped up slowly to Departure Speed, making it about halfway to Mars before we reached Threshhold. We took a bit longer than usual to make final checks, then I gave everything over to Albalureindis. She activated hyper drive and took us out.
In the blink of an eye, we were in the back of beyond. For ease of location, the rendezvous with The Jonathan Swift was alongside the mass of Haley’s Comet. I’m sure the mission planners had imagined the dramatic impact of pictures with the comet in the background. Unfortunately, comets out in the Oort cloud are just dirty ice until they get close enough to the sun to flare.
We transferred all visitors to the Swift for return to Earth, and carried on. Once we were back in hyperspace, the crew started totaling all the ‘firsts’ we’d achieved that day.
“First giant beyond Lunar Orbit.”
“First use of the Delta drive.”
“First three-scale crew to enter hyper space.”
“First press conference Captain Lewis didn’t punch anyone.” Silence followed that one as everyone tried to figure out the speaker. I just reminded everyone that the day was still young and turned the ship over to the daywatch.
That evening, Reins screened me in my stateroom to talk. Before she mentioned the topic, though, she noted something on the bulkhead behind my head.
“What’s that on your wall?” I turned and let her direct my attention to a spot of discoloration and chipped paint about the size of my hand. I acted surprised by the discovery.
“Well, beyond this bulkhead are the living quarters of the elves. This spot is…” I paused as if calculating. “I think this exact spot is the part of the bulkhead I share with the XO’s stateroom.”
“Oh. Why does it look that way?”
“Ask me about Whazzat.” She blinked for a second, shrugged, and complied.
“Why did you name the planet you discovered ‘Whazzat?’”
“Excellent question.” I opened a desk drawer and took out a steel mallet, laid it on the desk. “As you know, Whazzat is covered by a large pink life form. Whether it’s one organism or a colony hasn’t been decided. But the consistency in most places is that of cotton candy. There’s an outer shell that appears in places above 3500 feet altitude, that looks like nothing so much as pink dirt.” I leaned back in my chair, eyes on the horizon of a few years before.
“When the Foresight explorer craft landed, we were on a mesa covered by that shell, about three inches thick. It compressed slightly but didn’t crack under the landing struts.” I glanced back at the screen to find my audience leaning into the screen, eager for the story.
“As is customary on new worlds, it was for me, the CO, to step onto it first, giving it the official name. I climbed down, stepped off, and found there was a ravine under the mesa. The three-inch shell cracked where I stepped down and I fell through.
“Took me exactly 33 seconds to fall through the strands and fibers of pink crap all the way down to the bottom. It was dreamlike, a slow motion avalanche.” The Duchess tried not to crack a smile but it was an effort doomed to failure. “I was swearing like a sailor the entire time.”
“Let me guess. Someone recorded it? Came back to haunt you?”
“I was already on mike for my landing announcement. It came out ‘and in the tradition of the Space Corps I name this planet AAAAAAAAAAAAH! what the frelling crap is…’ Thirty three seconds. Never repeated myself.” I picked up the mallet. “And when I stopped, my never-to-be-sufficiently-damned Communicator at the time, Lieutenant Ruspahar,” I turned and whaled on the XO’s wall, “marked the entire tirade as my official name for the planet and sent it off as a Pulse.
“Every command with Pulse capability read it. Spent the next month discussing it. And me.” She covered her mouth but the giggles came through loud and clear.
“So, the official registry of the seventh planet discovered to have indigent life is actually 33 seconds of profanity?”
“Profanity, scatology, obscenity, vulgarity and some interesting gerunds.” I shook my head. “No. Our ‘abrupt’ president was the Secretary of the Space Corps at the time. She was the one with the actual authority to name planets, it was just a tradition to rubberstamp the CO’s transmission. She ordered the registrar to delete all the profanity, and name the planet what was left.” That was when my XO keyed into the conversation. As always, he merely laughed loudly, then keyed out. I clobbered the wall again.
“If you ask him, I’m sure he has a copy of the original recording aboard. Along with photos of me slugging the first three reporters that asked me to comment on some rumors they heard about Whazzat.”

Finally I put the mallet away and waited to find out what she wanted to talk about. She finished laughing and got serious.
“I got a Pulse from the Royal Publicist about today’s coverage. He was quite pleased that about 60% of the coverage was about me, or included me in a shot, or mentioned me.”
“I would guess he’d be pleased. Everything went well. No gaffes, no outbreaks of socialism, no nudity.” She blushed. I had a feeling I’d be able to make her blush for the next 50 years. But at least it came with a rueful grin.
“The thing is, Captain….should I be? Pleased, that is? I mean, I didn’t develop the Drive so I could be famous. I didn’t seek this job, or press coverage. Would I be getting as much attention if I were an old hag doing the same work? Or a man?” I understood her concern. And I was really glad that she WAS concerned.
“After I participated in the rescue of the crew of the Vanguard, we were all media darlings for a while. Everyone cheered the sixteen heroes of Starshine. The Corps awarded medals and everyone congratulated us on our bravery.” She was watching me closely, her eyes never leaving mine. I reflected that just like dealing with the elves, it was easier to be intimate with her through the screen than in person.
“And I’ll tell you one thing, Reins. For me, getting an atta boy from someone who knows what you really do for a living… That’s a lot better than anything a politician will pin to your jacket.” I saw her nod. If she understood that, she was more than halfway to being the sort of officer I expected. The last wisps of the doom clouds faded in my imagination.
“Then, after Whazzat, I was still presented to the media as a hero. ‘Another planet with life found…’ and so on. The true details would have reflected poorly on the Corps, so they hushed it up. Meanwhile, everyone in the fleet knew those details. I got frosted out of a few places.
“So at the same time, for the same mission, I was a hero and a moron, in the eyes of people who weren’t there at the time. Finally I decided it didn’t matter what they thought of me.
“My crew were still loyal. And those CO’s that’d made planetary landings still bought me drinks. If you have to pick a yardstick to measure your self worth, you can do a lot worse than the opinion of your peers. And in your case, Duchess, your peers are not the nobility in Brobdingrag. Or at least not right now.
“Antonov has stated that you’re not a complete waste of her time. It took me two patrols to earn that level of confidence from her.” She seemed surprised at that. Katya was a rough customer until she felt you met a minimum level of competence. And she wasn’t the type to care about a mere 50-foot height advantage from someone she considered a junior officer. I reached up to break the connection when she raised her hand to stop me.
“Captain, what was the name you’d picked out for the planet?”
“I… Albalureindis, in all the years I’ve told that story, no one’s ever, ever asked me that. Thank you. I’m deeply touched.” A smile shone on her face for a second, fading in shock as I reached up and keyed out. Maybe a little too touched.
-------
After our maneuvering, speed and handling tests were done, the final part of our shakedown cruise was to survey a new star system.
We had found seven planets, and were orbiting the second planet from the sun. It was our best bet for life. But it was a cloudy hell. Much like Venus, the hot gasses obscured the skies.
The central screen of the conference room display showed Planet Two. Nothing in the view provided a sense of scale, but it still felt big. Side screens highlighted the profile, estimating size and identifying various readings.
I turned around to face my crew. Human officers circled the conference table, other scales attended by screen. Smaller screens connected us to the personnel on watch, or personnel hanging out at a watchstation. Right now, that was everyone with a pulse.
“What do we know?” I looked around the faces. “Sensors?”
“Temperatures tend to indicated that it’s outside the range for any life form we know about,” Chuffump replied quickly, “or the inhabitants like boiling metals.”, He passed the buck to his partner, Oooslili.
“Radar images of the surface,” she reported, “are blurry but it seems to be mostly desert. Big empty spaces. No chemical traces to indicate life or even complicated self-replicating chemical chains.”
“So,” I asked, “Everyone agree that there’s no reason to land on it?”
Ruspahar looked around the screens for dissent. “Looks like it, Captain.”
“Okay.” I found the screen for the Conn. “Officer of the Deck, prepare to depart orbit, and depart the system. Give ‘er a four-hour acceleration to Threshold.” Turned to Chuffump, “Which means be ready to transmit a Pulse with all recordings, observations and analysis in three hours.” I spun back to the data screens. I assigned planets to the departments to name, and gave them two hours to submit for my approval.
Doc hit his own name on the dartboard, his name for planet One was ‘Bolero.’ Weapons cast lots and Corporal Yost named the second planet “Bullseye.” Everyone in Communication submitted names and they voted for Lt. Assakarr’s. She had suggested the Lilliputian National Bird, and Three became ‘Chuckukkawhal.’
Computers used a complicated system of nomination, discussion and voting on department members, advancing the top ranked to another round of voting, and so on. It took one hour and fifty eight minutes to come up with Ensign Quikkahump. Then, as the kid does so poorly under pressure, he ended up wanting to call the planet ‘Alpha.’ Because it was the first planet he’d ever named. I suggested changing it to the name of his father.
Reins, I found out later, asked her assistant what the tradition was in Engineering for such things. Katya informed her commander that the tradition is that the CO names every planet. I was unique in the fleet for offering my crew the privilege for planet we didn’t land on, and had done so every since Whazzat. Then she had to caution Albalureindis not to try naming it after me. It’d look like bootlicking (or, knowing Katya, something more graphic). So Reins suggested ‘Esprit de Corps.’ and the department approved.
I signed approval to the list and transmitted it at the top of the Pulse index.
-------
“So, one day, our king decided to end religious persecution. Opened the doors of government to big-endians, allowed their books to be published, and so. That day, my dad told me: ‘Son. Time that the truth you were learning. We a little-end family are not. We a big-endian in secret have been raising you.’
“’Well, father, a secret well kept that is. You certainly from me it secret kept!’” Shiggurtah was giving the lead in our Firstmonth Talent Show. Religious freedom was a new thing for the people of Lilliput and conquered states thereof. Religious humor was a bold step that Shiggurtah wanted to take. I’d directed him to George Carlin and a few other classics, to hone his act.
He was also capitalizing on a stand-up standard: Yiddish, Cockney or Fuscan accents always draw a laugh.
My whole crew sat on or around a table on Albalureindis’ worktable. While I could conduct briefings through the screens, I demanded physical proximity for Firstmonth celebrations. We’d dropped out of hyperspace between stellar systems, set the sensors on Way Paranoid, and assembled in Engineering.
Everyone enjoyed Shig’s descriptions of the efforts to complete his inter-faith marriage. The climax, a friend killing the lights with perfect timing so Shig broke the egg for the wedding omelet in the dark, had us all paralyzed. Elves of all faiths found something amusing in the antics, and the rest of us enjoyed the farce even if it wasn’t so personal.
Doc and his medics followed with a wonderful rendition of the ‘liberal little Lilliputians’ sketch. They telegraphed the punch line so the whole crew could shout along with ‘Oh, hell, Dell, let’s call ‘em all Ellllllllllllllllllllllllllllves.’
Reins lead a group from engineering in acting out a trivia game show.   Every single question was about Whazzat. The joke, though, was that instead of the official name of the planet, they referred to it with the entire 33 second rant. Then after that build up the answers were one or two words.
“Question three: how many life forms are there on planet AAAAAAAAAAAAH! what the frelling crap is OW! Son of a OOF Goddammed...” and so on.
“Uh, one.”
Then at the lightning round, by the time they ask the first question, the round is over and done, no points scored. Some of the junior personnel watched me out of the corner of their eye, to see if it was okay to laugh. Everyone I’d made more than two patrols with just guffawed naturally.
Lissisi and Foster were setting up to sing a duet when the proximity alarms went off on the RealBridge.
Everyone turned to their pocket screens to investigate. Albalureindis hesitated to put her hand out on the table. I grabbed or gestured to department heads and climbed aboard. She took us over to her console and called up bridge screens.
We had detected a ship.
----------
Déjà vu all over again, except it was different. All the times I’d been in conference rooms like this one, coordinating an exploration, it was the first time I’d ever had a ship on the screen.
The ship was about 4 times as long as the Excelsior. The proportions were sleeker, though. In fact, the profile reminded me of a shark more than anything else.
Oooslili and Chuffump couldn’t find any evidence of life or power. “No radiation, sir. No heat, nothing like an engine or power source we’d recognize. Either it’s dead in space or they’re very, very good at insulation.”
“No transmissions we can identify, either. If they’re hearing us, they’re ignoring us.” I nodded. Speeds were really hard to estimate this far from a reference point, but it appeared dead in space.
We’d matched speeds half an hour ago and we were exactly as far away from it as we’d been then. Either it wasn’t moving a whole lot, or we’d made pretty close to miraculously perfect matching velocities on the first try.
“Interiors?”
“Big empty spaces,” Ruspahar reported. “I mean, Brobdingragian big. Radar indicates continuous tubes running up and down the length.” I looked to my sensor staff.
“If radar is coming back out, then their shielding isn’t that perfect, is it?” They shook their heads ruefully. “Okay, then. Are we all feeling that the big scale of room indicates a big scale crew? That whoever they are, they’re built on the same scale as the rest of the galaxy seems to be?”
“Not necessarily,” Lissisi answered. “Maybe they’re human sized avian, and just like to have lots of room to fly around in.”
“Or…” Reins interjected, “They’re dolphin sized, and the spaces are full of water.”
“Good points. We can’t jump to conclusions.” I turned back to the shot of the alien vessel. “We have to go over there.” I could feel the excitement behind me.   No one joins the Corps hoping they’ll never find aliens. But I couldn’t just take volunteers. I turned to my officers.
“Weps, six of your most paranoid officers will be going.” Cheryl nodded, and started ticking off her fingers as she mentally selected personnel. I turned to Reins, who had Antonov on her shoulder. “Eng, Pick one systems tech. Whoever’s the best at thinking outside the box.” I addressed the rest of the group more generally. “I don’t want too many people on the first trip that aren’t security. If there’s danger, that’s fewer people to look out for, if there isn’t any then we can send more people later.
“But we’ll take an elf each. They ride in the big peoples’ suits, so security won’t have to shoot around them.” Back to my XO: “Prepare to send a pulse. Everything we’ve got so far, and mention our intent to board and explore.
“Send a pulse very half hour. If anything changes, send a pulse. If I order you to depart, leave immediately. If we stop transmitting, wait an hour, run home. If we say ‘Oh, SHIT!’ and stop transmitting, run home immediately.
“We leave in half an hour. Launch some remote probes and search for an entry.”
I spent about ten of the next thirty minutes prepping my suit for the exploration. The other twenty was devoted to denying urgent and logical arguments for why certain individuals needed to be on the team. I turned them all down in favor of my original list.
I didn’t want Doc or medics because they’d hesitate to move injured personnel when the situation demanded evacuation.
I turned down most prospective xenotechnologists because reverse engineering could wait to the second trip.
I turned down Albalureindis because she’d never even explored another planet. Her arguments about our needing someone her size for a ship that scale didn’t overcome her inexperience.
I ordered everyone without a formal invitation from me to remain on the ship and ready for immediate departure.
Cheryl picked herself, Foster, Lupos, M’ota, Sung and Faith. It was a nice balance between seasoned vets and selfless psychopaths. I always enjoy facing the unknown with backup that could make Patton cry for mommy.
Chuffump himself would ride in my suit. I plugged his module into my chest armor and cross checked his support. The others would carry elves with a wide selection of specialties, each supported by direct screen to the Excelsior.
Reins provided a diagnostic technician named Ramirez. She wasn’t much for social concepts like conversation, friendship, or eye contact, but her ability to grasp big picture operations of multiple systems might come in handy.
-------
The entry port was big enough for the entire shuttle. We parked outside, though. In the background conversations I heard discussion about whether the hatch was an indication of size or just efficient for cargo. I ignored it, watching Ramirez and her elf rider suss out the controls.
There didn’t turn out to be an airlock beyond the door, so we didn’t have a maximum size estimate for the crew. It also argued for it being an in-port-only cargo port.
The inside was like the outside. Dark, cold and already airless. Somehow, some when, the interior had been open to vacuum. There was a gravity field about half Earth normal. We kept together and started to explore.
All we found was space. One continuous space wound around inside the hull. A matte black rubbery surface covered everything without any relief or details. We found no furniture, no controls, no displays.   Not even anything we recognized as a bed or nest. But there was a hazy sense of familiarity to it. I noticed it and after a while others remarked on it.
Foster’s ride-along, a Lilliputian of noble heritage named Sooseff, was the first to actually figure out what the space reminded us of.
“Anyone ever go diving?” he asked.
“Sure!” M’ota agreed. “That’s it! The spaces between coral reefs, that’s what this reminds me of. Like we’re walking along a shallow sea floor.” Everyone with dive time suddenly looked enlightened. The backchatter filled with speculation on Reins’ dolphin speculation.
Suddenly, Foster turned a curving corner and signaled for a halt. Security personnel spread out to cover front and back while the rest of us slaved our wrist screens to Foster’s view.
A small hump in the middle of the floor was covered with little holes. Small and little being rather relative terms in the Corps, of course. The hump was about the size of our bridge or my first apartment. The holes were about my arm’s length apart. The openings were as big as my space-suited fist.
“Anyone bring a probe that size?” Chuffump popped out of his riding module waving his hand camera around.
“Right away, sir!” Lacking any better leads, I handed him over to my Weps. She clipped a lanyard to his back and let him down at one opening. Other elves surrounded him and set up scanners and monitors. Ramirez started examining the hump exterior. Security spread out to cover the group.
I set my screen to Chuff’s point of view and glanced at it from time to time. The tube had the same finish as the walls for about a foot, then shifted to something silvery. There was a pattern of oddly discolored patches.
“Sir, there are wear spots on the patches. In fact some are significantly more worn than others. They look like some sort of control surfaces, like a keyboard.”
“So, who buries a keyboard deep in…”
“Sir!” Cheryl drew my attention to her lanyard. The tunnel sides were swelling to constrict around it. It was already too small for her to yank Chuffump out and it closed solid as we looked.
“Chuff, you okay in there?”
“Huh? What happened? HEY! Where’s the exit?”
“Sit tight. Okay, people, let’s figure out how to get him out. He’s got four hours of air left, so no panic.”
“SIR!” Sung disagreed with me. She was looking to our rear. The curve we rounded to enter this space was swelling shut like the tunnel had.
Lupos poised to start grabbing elves and running. “Captain, if we run now-“
“You mean if we abandon Chuff. Not just yet. Ramirez?”
“I make better time if I don’t have to explain.”
“Fine. Just gimme a go or no-go.”
“Uh…No-go, for now. I’ll let you know if I, um, go.”
“Captain?” Foster waved for my attention. He had two elves on his shoulders gesturing with their screens. “Request permission to inflict fairly permanent damage on alien technology of possibly great value to the Alliance?”
“Unless Ramirez is a go?”
“No go.”
“Very well. Everyone get clear.” Foster placed charges at elvish direction. Everyone else started moving clear except Weps.
We arranged ourselves near the door, or at least the spot the walls had shut closed, and waited. Four spaced blasts did indeed deflate the tunnel seal. Chuff was yanked free and we turned out attention to the exit.
“Okay, Foster, do it again.”
“Uh…actually, I think I’d have to be on the outside to do that, sir.”
“Oh. Okay. XO, send someone-“
“CAPTAIN!” the XO interrupted me. “We’re detecting movement. I think the alien ship’s starting to get underway.” Wonderful. And I hadn’t packed a spare set of undies. Could this get any worse?
“SIR!” someone supplied, pointing to the door. At the center, something started to poke out towards us.
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