I Won A Spaceship

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I Won A Spaceship Page 5

by Harrision Park


  I nodded.

  “Now the other weird thing is that sometimes the quickest way between two places is not the direct route. If you were to go from your city to another one, you’d get out the map and plan the most direct route, wouldn’t you?”

  I grinned. “Not necessarily. I’d have to take traffic volume, the weather and roadworks into account. If, say, the Motorway had roadworks, I might be better to take a longer route. In the end it might get me to my destination quicker.”

  He gave me an odd look. “I that case, I won’t need to belabour the next bit which is that the quickest way between two points might not be the most direct one.”

  “I understand that.”

  “Good. Well, that about sums up what you need to know about space travel.”

  I laughed. “Here we are, whizzing through space at speeds my species can only dream of and you sum it up in three sentences.”

  “Well, of course, it’s a tad more complicated than that, but that’s why we have ibics. Their main purpose is to navigate space. All the other things they do are side issues.”

  “Amazing.”

  “They are. We wouldn’t have space travel without them.”

  “And they’re just machines?”

  “Oh, yes. The nearest equivalent in English is ‘computer’ or, perhaps, ‘artificial intelligence’ but these words are pale shadows of what ibics really are.”

  “I understand. I mean I don’t understand, but I understand that I don’t understand, if that makes sense.”

  He looked at me over the rim of his cup. “You know, and I hope you won’t mind my saying so, but you’re the strangest being I’ve encountered.”

  “I’m going to assume that’s not an insult.”

  “Far from it. I shouldn’t tell tales out of school, but I’ve escorted thirty winners to the presentation ceremony. Over the years I’ve become inured to some of the antics they get up to and some of the attitudes they’ve displayed. I’ve learned to appear neutral and keep a wary distance. But you’re different.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You can’t stop there. I’m a man from a backward little planet. How can I be different?”

  “That’s partly it. You’re a man from a backward little planet. You’ve been catapulted out of that and into an environment that is totally alien and beyond anything you’ve ever experienced. Not only that, you’re the winner of the most spectacular lottery in the universe. Now, there are many reactions to this. Some cower with fear, some bluster and posture, some become arrogant and aggressive. None, until now, have shrugged their shoulders and accepted it. Despite the fact you are a most aggravating being, you have a sort of cynical innocence that I find unique and intriguing. Why do I say this?” He ticked the points off on his fingers. “First, you dismiss me from your doorstep. Second, you haggle with me. Third, you insist we bring your pets. Fourth, you sit here quite calmly surrounded by this, to you, magical technology without turning a hair. Fifth, you understand the idea behind space travel. I’ve run out of fingers.”

  I laughed a trifle hysterically. “Hermes, let me assure you that I’m far from sanguine. You suggested earlier that I should take things as they come or I would be overwhelmed. I can assure you I’m working very, very hard to maintain that. I feel that, if I let it slip, even for a second, I’ll go stark staring mad. I’m completely out of my depth. I don’t know where we’re going. I don’t know what’s going to happen when we get there. I don’t…” I stopped and took a deep breath. I could feel the hysteria creeping up on me. “The only way I can survive is to take things one step at a time and pray you’ll keep me from accidentally killing myself and possibly you too.”

  He put his cup down carefully. “I will do that,” he said seriously. “I think I just had a glimpse of what you’re going through. To be honest, my other guests must have been going through much the same thing, but it’s hard to be sympathetic when they’re cursing you or threatening you or ordering you around like a menial. You can depend on me for as long as I’m responsible for you.

  “Now, talking of accidents, I’d better speak of the ship. You really can’t kill yourself or me here. Do not, under any circumstances, try to leave this module without me. Please don’t barge in to my quarters… that’s out of politeness, not safety. If you need anything or want to know anything, ask Dear in the first instance. If you want company, seek me out. I may not respond, but I’ll be polite. Stay off the bridge unless I’m there and definitely do not touch anything on it. Other than that you can go where you want and do what you want.” He gave an ironic grin. “Not that there are many places to go or much to do. You don’t play prostit, do you? Never mind. If this was a longer trip I’d teach you. Oh, and please don’t wreck the joint. It’s my home away from home and I’m rather attached to it, old-fashioned and tatty as it is.”

  “Aye, aye, Cap’n,” I said, giving a mock salute.

  He gave me a quizzical look. “Sea-going ships,” I explained. “The man in charge is the Captain. His word is law. The correct response is not ‘yes’ but ‘aye, aye’. I was saying that I understood you, agreed with you and would do as you say.”

  “That’s a lot of meaning in three words.”

  “English can sometimes be quite succinct,” I grinned.

  “Finally, I suggest you confine your pets to your room. I don’t think they’d cause any damage, but you gave the impression they were likely to roam and I don’t want to spend hours searching for them.”

  “Not only do they roam, they’re infinitely inquisitive and have the strangest ideas about what constitutes a cosy nook. I agree. I’ll keep them confined.” I had a sudden nasty thought. “Shit, I forgot to bring cat food.”

  “You said they were predators. They eat raw meat?”

  “Yes, they eat small rodents and birds in the wild, but they’ll eat almost any meat, particularly chicken and rabbit. They also eat fish.”

  “I will have Dear add some programming to the kitchen. We can sort something out when we get to Geretimal.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks.”

  “No problem. Now, although we’ve just eaten, by your clock it is something like ten in the morning. I shall retire.”

  “10am? Good God, in all the excitement, I’d lost track of the time.” I looked at my watch. It was 10.22. I’d been up all night. I was suddenly exhausted.

  The cats, being cats, had decided that they were done sleeping. Not being able to roam, they had chosen to torment the plastic bottle. I fell asleep to the sound of it bouncing off the walls and furniture and the scrabble of claws as they chased it.

  When I awoke they were curled up on the bed fast asleep. My watch said it was 6.30pm., but it could have been any time. The shower was… odd. There was water, but not much. There was also an odd almost-inaudible humming noise which made my skin tingle and was strangely refreshing. The hand basin produced hot water so I was able to shave, albeit by touch as there was no mirror. I dressed and went to the kitchen. I saw no sign of Hermes. I discovered that Dear could talk to me without disturbing him. I explained about labels and the problem with food for the cats.

  “You don’t need labels. Just ask me and I’ll tell you which buttons to press. As for food for your pets, again there’s no problem. What sort of meat do you want?”

  “Chicken would be fine… lightly boiled.”

  I pressed the appropriate buttons and, lo and behold, a plate of chicken pieces duly appeared. I left it standing to cool as I ate my breakfast in the rec room. The cats were very pleased with the chicken and wolfed it down in no time. Now I was at a loss. I had nothing to do and nowhere to go. I stretched out on the bed with my hands behind my head.

  “Dear, can I talk to you?”

  “Of course.”

  “What’s it like... space?”

  “I don’t know how to answer that. From the perspective of a sentient being, it’s very large and empty. However, it’s full of radiation of which light and, indeed, the entire electro-magnetic spectrum
only form a small part. If you could perceive gravity, it would appear a busy place, too. The dimension immediately below the one you perceive gives an entirely different picture…”

  “Whoa. Stop. I think that comes under the heading, ‘too much information’,” I said with a shaky laugh. “Tell me about Capella and this Theocracy.”

  For the next several hours I quizzed Dear on everything I could think of that might help me cope with the environment I was heading for. Some of it made sense, some of it mystified me and, the more I asked, the less I understood. I was about to give up and go and get some food when it suddenly said.

  “I think I understand the general thrust of your questions. You are concerned that the situation you will find on Geretimal will be potentially dangerous to your person and you believe that, to counter that, you must gather as much information as possible. I believe your species has a saying, ‘know your enemy’. I agree. Winning the Lottery is a big thing and there’s much at stake for many beings. The politics of the situation are complex and subtle and beyond your understanding. There will be some who will not be content that the prize has been awarded to a being from a species that barely has space travel. However, if I may make a suggestion, please bear one thing in mind at all times… sentient beings are sentient beings the galaxy over. They may appear to be different and they may attempt to over-awe you with threats, power or money but, underneath, they are driven by the same forces that drive your species. I have noted that hominids share certain characteristics. They may have evolved from different species, but the paths of their evolution are roughly the same and the qualities that drove them from their origins to climb the evolutionary ladder have much in common. Do not let their differences blind you to their similarities.”

  I was silent for a moment as I digested this. “Thank you, Dear,” I said humbly. “I think you’ve just given me the most valuable piece of advice I’ve ever had. I appreciate it and I’ll remember it. Funnily enough one of our poets summed it up by the phrase, ‘A man’s a man for a’ that.” I think he was making much the same point.”

  I was in thoughtful mood as I went to find some food. So much so that Hermes had to speak to me twice.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Hmm? Yes, fine, thanks. Sorry, I was deep in thought.”

  “I could see that. Is something worrying you?”

  “No. I’ve been talking to Dear and it said something that made me think.”

  “Ibics are very clever machines.”

  “They certainly are.”

  “I was wondering if it would be possible to borrow one of your cats for a while.”

  “Borrow?”

  He looked sheepish. “Well, the experience in your house was very pleasant and I was thinking of listening to some music. The idea of doing that while stroking a cat seemed… interesting.”

  I smiled. “I could bring them up, but whether they’d sit on your knee would be entirely up to them.”

  “I don’t understand. It sat on my knee quite happily the other night.”

  “That was because it felt like it.”

  “But aren’t they trained?”

  “You can’t train a cat. When they’re young you can set a pattern… for example, you can persuade them to use a litter tray rather than pee on the carpet… but you can’t train them to do tricks or come when they’re called or anything like that. They’re not like dogs.”

  “Dear, are you listening to this?”

  “I am.”

  “I find it hard to believe. You say cats are domesticated but cannot be trained?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Why don’t you bring them up and we’ll see.”

  They weren’t happy about being put in the basket and leapt out the instant it was opened. Ziggy, being a tom, immediately started exploring. Stardust decided grooming was the order of the day and began to wash her face.

  “What is it doing?”

  “It is a she and she’s washing her face. Cats are very clean animals. They spend quite a lot of time grooming themselves.”

  “Can’t you bathe them?”

  “I would hate to try. First of all cats are not fond of water and secondly, how would you get all that fur dry?”

  We sat and watched the cats get up to their usual antics and I gave a running commentary on what they were doing. Hermes was fascinated. He seemed to have forgotten all about his plan to listen to music. He tried to induce them to sit on his lap several times without success. Stardust, having again spurned his advances strolled across to the trivee mat curled up and promptly went to sleep.

  “Will you look at that,” he said indignantly. “She rejects a perfectly good lap and sleeps over there.”

  I laughed. “That’s cats for you. I told you they weren't biddable.”

  “But why there. It’s hardly the most comfortable spot.”

  “It’s black, she’s black. Cats tend to choose things that match the colour of their fur. Not every time, but they do show a preference.”

  He shook his head in amazement. “They really are very strange creatures, but fascinating. You know, you could have a lucrative business here. Dear, do you know of any other creatures like cats?”

  There was a moment’s silence. “No. Several worlds have equivalent species of small, predatory, carnivores and several have the equivalents of pets, but I know of nowhere where the combination of predator and pet. Your cats, Crawford, would appear to be unique in the known universe.”

  “There you have it,” Hermes said excitedly. “Your fortune is made. Can you breed them?”

  I shook my head. “Not these two, they’ve been neutered… made unable to breed.”

  He looked shocked. I explained the breeding habits of cats.

  “On my world the general rule is that, the tougher life is for an animal, the more it breeds, and life in the wild is hard for a cat. They can only eat small creatures like mice so they need to hunt continuously. Most kittens in a litter will die of starvation. Even if they survive, they can be prey to larger animals like foxes, stoats and weasels. If all domestic cats were allowed to breed and every litter survived, a pair of cats would produce perhaps ten kittens a year. Ten kittens makes five breeding pairs and cats become fertile in a year. So the following year… you do the maths.”

  “I see what you mean.”

  “One of our continents is a large island that became separated from the main landmass a long time ago. When Westerners settled there, they thought it would be a good idea to introduce rabbits… a rabbit is a rodent… the rabbits had no natural predators and the climate suited them so they bred… and bred and bred and bred. They ate everything; vegetables, grass, cereal crops, the lot. In the end the Government was forced to introduce mass poisoning to control them. There are other examples of the same thing, too. If I was to introduce un-neutered cats, there’d be some worlds where they wouldn’t survive and some like Australia where they’d over-run the whole world. Not a good idea, I think.”

  “I agree,” Dear said suddenly. “There are records of similar situations on other worlds.”

  “Oh, well, it seemed like a good idea.”

  “Actually, we may have a problem as it is. You’ve said I’m going to be in the spotlight.”

  “Very much so.”

  “Would it be possible to keep the cats hidden?”

  “Hmm. Unlikely. Every part of your existence will be scrutinised and some of our investigators are very persistent. The pressure for a unique story is immense.”

  “Tell me about it. Okay, so what’s to prevent some enterprising entrepreneur with a spaceship from heading off to Earth and kidnapping some cats? They’re not exactly rare.”

  “I take your point. Dear, we need a good story to cover the cats. Damn, why did I let you persuade me to let you bring them?”

  “As I recall you offered voluntarily. ‘We’ll find a solution’ were the words you used, I believe.”

  “Helpful as usual,” he grumbled.

&nb
sp; “I’ll think about it, too. There must be something we can come up with that would deflect attention from them. Perhaps we could say they’re very rare.”

  He shook his head. “Why would someone ordinary like you have rare animals?”

  “Okay, they’re experimental animals and I’m taking the opportunity to find out how they react to space travel.”

  “That’s better, although the fact that you don’t have space travel might be a problem.”

  “Oh, we do… after a fashion. We’ve sent men to the Moon and we have an orbiting laboratory. The cats were being bred for that.”

  “Might work. Why do you have them?”

  “Because my brother works on the breeding programme and I persuaded him to let me have them.”

  He grinned. “Ah, the sweet smell of corruption. That’ll sound believable.”

  “Don’t tell me your civilisation has corruption?” I said in mock horror.

  “Corruption is what keeps the wheels of government turning. Dear, will Crawford’s story work?”

  “There’s about a 65% chance it will be accepted.”

  “Not really good enough. We need to think some more. I’m hungry. How about some food?”

  When we returned from the kitchen, Ziggy had curled up on Hermes’ chair.

  “Cats,” he exclaimed, evicting him.

  “Exactly.”

  As we appeared to be settled in the rec room, I fetched the litter tray and made some more chicken. Stardust was delighted at the appearance of the litter tray and scrabbled away frantically for several minutes before doing her business with a blissful expression on her face.

  “How strange,” Hermes said.

  “Cat’s are very clean animals. They have a bathroom area and will go to great lengths to use it. They get upset if they get locked in somewhere and are caught short.”

  “Fascinating.” He actually sounded like he meant it.

  We talked the rest of the evening. I found out he was from a planet very similar to mine. His species were older than man and had developed quite sophisticated space travel within their solar system when they were discovered by a star-faring species about seven hundred years ago. They didn’t have anything particularly valuable to trade so they were unable to purchase interstellar drive technology themselves. They did, however, possess a very attractive planet. A number of agencies, both educational and governmental, opened facilities there and tourism was an important industry. Hermes had been a bit of an odd-ball as a youth, preferring his own company and learning to the hurly-burly pursuits of his peers. His studies inspired in him a desire to see the galaxy and when the opportunity of becoming a Lottery representative arose, he jumped at it. Although technically a bureaucrat, he had a healthy suspicion of bureaucracies and the sort of people who worked in them. I found him refreshingly cynical despite, or perhaps because of his three centuries of experience.

 

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