Devoted-Acolyte shook his head in disbelief.
“At the risk of belabouring the point, Sir Devoted-Acolyte,” Cherevine said. “Isn’t it time you started treating us a partners instead of puppets?”
“What do you recommend?”
“I’ve no idea. As you’ve said, you can’t re-organise the whole schedule now. So why don’t you discuss it with Crawford and with us. Explain the situation and ask for suggestions. You don’t have to follow them but at least everyone’ll feel happier that they’ve been consulted.”
“I have a thought,” Hlawch said. “The original schedule had Sir MacAdam unavailable for ten days when he was on the tour of Geretimal. As that’s off, we have these to play with.”
“You’re right. What is his itinerary for tomorrow?”
“A visit to the Merciful Blessings Hospital.”
“So, what do we do?”
“Why don’t you contact Crawford and ask him?” Honesty-in-Trust said.
“I suppose we could do that.”
“It wouldn’t hurt.”
“Hlawch, will you please try to contact Sir MacAdam and explain the situation.”
I was en route to the orbiting Zofi-Brennan complex when his call came.
I’d been met at reception by a chauffeur resplendent in a blue, gold and pink uniform. Say what you like about Capellans, they weren't afraid to be colourful. He drove me to the port… air or space as you prefer… in one of the ubiquitous box cars. We didn’t go to the main terminal but to a complex on the edge of the port which proudly proclaimed, in large blue and gold and pink letters, ‘Zofi-Brennan – We Connect the Galaxy’. The car drew up beside a steegee painted, naturally, in blue and gold and pink. I was ushered aboard and we took off.
It was then Hlawch called.
“Flabbergasted, I think is the word,” I said, as he explained the situation. “How did… never mind, I don’t have much time. How can I help?”
He explained about the hospital visit.
“Hmm, will I be touring the hospital and talking to patients?”
“Yes.”
“Then how about inviting some of the girls along? Just think of the boost the patients will get from a group of attractive young ladies as well as the Lottery Winner.”
“I like it.”
“Ask for volunteers. Some people don’t like hospitals. Oh, I assume I’ll need to make a speech?”
“Yes. Definitely one for the opening ceremony and one at lunch would be appreciated. Lunch will be semi-formal.”
“Fine. I know nothing about the hospital so could someone draft me suitable speeches? And could someone brief me, and the girls if they’re going to be involved, about what we’re likely to see. What sort of things we should say and who the key people are?” This would test whether this new spirit of co-operation was genuine or not.
“Speeches… briefing… yes, that should be possible.”
“Good. Thanks. What’s the scene tonight? Another restaurant?”
“Yes. Zealous Gastronomy… where do they get these names from?
“The gods know. Is it going to be as formal as last night?”
“No. The media will be there but there’s no press conference and no yellow carpet.”
“For that I’m grateful. Look, could you do me a favour and contact the restaurant and stress that it’s not a competition.”
“I can, but why?”
“Because, if your restaurateurs are anything like ours, this lot will be desperate to outdo the Kitchen of the Gods. We’ll end up with the War of the Chefs. Say something like I want to experience the specialities of their fine cuisine. I want my visit to be a unique experience… you know the sort of thing. Last night’s meal was superb but I don’t want to eat it every night.”
He laughed. “I’ll do that. Anything else?”
“No. And, Sir Hlawch… thanks. I don’t know what happened but I’m grateful.”
“You’re welcome.”
I looked at the communicator in disbelief as he rang off. The pilot was looking amused.
“Are you always like that?”
“Like what?”
“Well I don’t know who you were speaking to but I do know who you are. According to the media you’re from a system so far out you haven’t even heard of the Galaxy yet you were talking to that being as if you were the one in charge.”
“Yes. Quite a novel experience,” I said with a grin. “Is that where we’re going?”
Ahead of us was the most amazing assembly of vast tin cans, tubes, girders, spheres, lozenges and all shapes in between, pipes and cables. Odd-shaped vehicles floated or hovered in between the structures. Spaceships of all sizes and in various stages of construction were suspended in cradles at the end of gantries. Completed ones were connected to the tin cans and spheres by tubes. All around were swarms of flies. It took a bit of mental adjustment to realise that they weren't flies but beings in spacesuits. It was only then I realised the scale of the operation I was seeing.
“Bloody hell!” I exclaimed. “It’s huge.”
The pilot was looking amused. “It is. It’s the largest construction site in the Galaxy. Here we make the largest and the best spaceships known to sentient beings.” There was pride in his voice.
“I could ask about a thousand questions but I’ll bet there’s a brochure somewhere and, no doubt, I’ll be fed facts and figures by the bucketload today.”
He laughed. “Of that there’s no doubt.”
We drifted towards one end of the assembly. It grew and grew in the viewscreen until it filled it and blotted out the stars. A large sphere swelled in front of us. A pinprick appeared towards which we floated. The pinprick became a door to a vast hold. We drifted through it and into a parking bay similar to the one on Hermes’ ship but much flashier. When the clumps and bumps had finished, the pilot led me to an open lift. We ascended half way up the wall and stopped at an iris door which swished open. I stepped through into an opulent reception area filled with beings who immediately started to applaud. I smiled and waved. Homer Simpission stepped out of the crowd and formally welcomed me. I was becoming accustomed to these little impromptu speeches and commented I was awestruck by the size and complexity of the shipyard, I hoped my translator would translate that correctly, and was excited about seeing more of it. To my surprise, Sir Simpission bowed. I managed to retain enough composure return the bow, making sure mine was deeper than his.
To the applause of the assembled employees, he led me to a smaller room. We were joined by seven other beings to whom I was introduced but promptly forgot their names and titles. I had enough trouble when beings were introduced one or two at a time but seven at the same time complete with, to me, meaningless titles, was more than my brain could cope with.
“I’m afraid I must desert you,” Sir Simpission said. “But Madam Wispwilliss will look after you.”
“I am honoured that you spared the time to meet me personally,” I said.
“I’ve been following your progress, my boy,” he boomed and strode out.
Madam Wispwilliss was the strangest being I had met so far. She was very tall, taller even than Barbita, very thin and very willowy. Her skin was off-white and looked slightly scaly, her hair was a deep purple, so deep it was almost black, and her eyes were huge, luminous pale violet pools. She definitely should not have been dressed in blue and gold and pink. However, she smiled pleasantly.
“We’ve a short presentation about Zofi-Brennan,” she said in a sibilant voice. “Followed by a tour of the complex. After that we’ll have some lunch. Then Sir Simpission will formally present you with your ship and then, finally, the moment you’ve probably been waiting for… we’ll let you actually see it. As you’re probably aware, it’s not quite ready yet. There are some options we need you to select before we complete the finishing touches. And Sir Simpission would like a quick word before you go.”
There was a touch of… respect… awe in her voice. I wondered if it was becaus
e the big boss man wanted to see me again.
“That sounds great,” I said. “Options. Oh, yes, they were mentioned.”
“There is a problem?”
“Well, yes and no. You see I was hoping to get some advice from my pilot about them but haven’t had the opportunity.”
“Pilot?”
I made a deprecating gesture. “Yes. Well, I’d never seen a spaceship until last week. I assume there’s more to flying one than a big button that says ‘go’ and another that says ‘stop’…” there was a polite ripple of laughter, “…so a friend has offered to assist me.”
“Could you contact him?”
“I could try.”
“If he was available, he could come out here,” another being said. I think he was head of construction or configuration or something like that. “It would be much better if he was able to talk directly, would it not?”
“That could be arranged,” Madam Wispwilliss agreed. “Could you contact your friend?”
“I can try?”
Hermes was available and he would be only too happy to come out to the shipyard. I let Madam Wispwilliss make the arrangements with him.
The presentation was pretty standard; a promotional video showing the marvels of Zofi-Brennan. I sat, enthralled. Having seen only one spaceship in my life, everything was new and marvellous, from the huge bulk freighters, essentially an immense tin can ringed with engines; through the passenger ships, the same as the freighters but styled to look more attractive, to small personal ships like Hermes’ and planet-hoppers. The basic design was the same; a tin can for the payload, one or more egg-shaped engines and additional tin cans or lozenges for other facilities like storing steegees, but the number of combinations of these basic components was staggering.
The tour was mind-boggling, too. It wasn't worth pressurising miles and miles of tubing just so workers could move from one area to another so they used an ibic-controlled ski-lift system with cabs magnetically clamped to wires. At one point we were dangling in empty space with Geretimal, blue and white and ochre, looming above as we waited at a junction. It’s an image I was sure would stay in my mind for the rest of my days. I wondered if we’d don spacesuits but was told that they were made to fit each being personally and you required training to operate one. I was goggle-eyed, my brain swirling with images and impressions by the time we returned to our starting point.
“You look a bit stunned,” Madam Wispwilliss said not unkindly.
“Absolutely and completely,” I said.
Lunch was an informal buffet. I talked to various people who did mysterious but vital things. I struggled to make conversation as I didn’t know enough to ask intelligent questions. Fortunately, most of them were used to that and, besides, they seemed as interested in me as I was in them. We were just finishing when Hermes arrived.
“Hermes,” Madam Wispwilliss cried in surprise.
“Vissassa,” Hermes said with a grin. “How are you?”
“I’m just fine. What are you doing here?”
“I heard there was a new ship to see.”
“New ship? Don’t tell me you’re Sir MacAdam’s pilot?”
“All right, I won’t.”
“Hermes, stop kidding. Are you really his pilot?”
“I am. Well, I will be when you’ve finished playing with the ship.”
“But… why?”
He shrugged. “The Commission and I are not on the best of terms just now and Crawford offered me a job, so….”
She looked at him shrewdly. “There’s a lot more to it than that.”
“That’s the official story.”
“One day…”
“Possibly. But you will have to ply me with fine wine and good food.”
“You might just have yourself a deal. However, now you’re here we’d better proceed with the grand unveiling.”
We trooped along to an office with a large picture window. Only it wasn’t a picture window it was a huge viewscreen. Against a backdrop of the edge of the shipyard and framed by Geretimal was my spaceship. Even to my untrained eye, it looked special and Hermes whistled in appreciation. Sir Simpission came in along with some media people who fussed around setting up their equipment and getting us to stand here and there while they checked whatever it is media people check.
“Do you like it?” Sir Simpission asked.
“It looks very impressive,” I said. “It gives the impression of being both powerful and sleek.”
“Good,” he beamed. “That’s what it’s supposed to do. Just wait till you see inside.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
The media people were ready. With the ship behind us, Sir Simpission gave a short introductory speech then, with a dramatic flourish, indicated the ship and formally presented it to me. I was a bit taken aback as I, stupidly, hadn’t anticipated having to say anything. However I managed to stumble out my thanks and comment on how I appreciated their generosity and how impressed I was with the set-up. It seemed to be enough for everyone was smiling. Then it was off to the ship itself in a company steegee.
From inside the complex I hadn’t appreciated how big my ship was. There were three engines in a triangle. Tubes ran from them to one end of a large tin can. That does it an injustice. It resembled a tin can only in that it was roughly cylindrical. It’s resemblance to an actual can was more that of a racing bike to a boneshaker; they were both bicycles but… Bracing struts connected the engines together and the tin can to the engines. At the opposite end to the engines a much smaller tin can was attached to the larger one like a cap on a plastic bottle. Six lozenge-shaped units circled the large tin can and were connected to each other by struts and the central unit by tubes.
Madam Wispwilliss explained what they were. “In the centre is the main living quarters; master suite, bedrooms, living areas, recreation and so on. The module at the rear is the command module and weapons control. Three of the six modules in the rear ring are for steegees and storage. You will be able to take fresh food and drinks with you. The other three are the weapons modules. As you can see there is access from the main module to any of the others.
“The engines are Phromiad 9s with full planar phasing and over-dimensional stabilisation. Each provides 400lth giving a maximum speed of 8.7ppn. For intra-system manoeuvring there are three Phromiad ‘Sunbenders’ which can be run both synchronously or asynchronously.”
“Asynchronously?” Hermes asked. He was listening avidly but that was why I was employing him.
“Yes. Gives 22% better manoeuvrability.”
“Impressive.”
She rabbited on about a host other technical features. I’d stopped listening and was watching with increasing awe as the incredible device that was now mine swelled in the viewscreen. Mine! This piece of technology so advanced that I didn’t even understand how the doors worked was mine. A surge of elation swept through me. I wanted to sing and dance and shout.I suppressed my instinct with difficulty.
We glided towards one of the smaller modules around the main habitation area. A door opened and we coasted through to settle gently on the docking cradle. Like the bay on Hermes’ ship this one was functional but, unlike his, mine was smoothly panelled in shades of off-white and cream. Even the arms of the docking cradle were elegantly curved and painted. We stepped down onto a padded floor and ascended some steps. The door swished open… even the swish sounded elegant… and walked down a slight slope along the connecting tunnel. The tunnel was wider that on Hermes’ ship. It had a padded walkway, elegant handrails and two could walk abreast.
“You can have these working areas decorated to your own taste,” Madam Wispwilliss said.
“They’re fine as they are,” I said.
At the end of the tunnel, the door swished elegantly open and we emerged into a large hall. It ran the full breadth of the ship and was wide enough to hold a dance. Next to the door, stairs ran gracefully up and down. There was a matching door on the other side. In the midd
le a smooth curve led to the corridor to the main part of the module and, opposite, a smaller corridor allowed access to the command module.
“This is the main hall. There are four levels. Below is the trivee lounge, exercise room, recreation room, kitchen and other rooms that can be fitted out to your requirements, for example as servants’ quarters. On this level are the public rooms: lounge, dining room and so on. These can be configured to your requirements. Above are, at present, eight rooms designed as sleeping accommodation. They can be adapted to suit. For example, you could have four large and eight smaller sleeping areas or you could make two or three of them into suites or you could have a lounge, kitchen and dining area along with several bedrooms. We can’t remove any of the existing structure but, other than that, you may configure them as you wish. I apologise for the rather stark décor. Usually the customer has expressed his wishes before construction but in this case we’ve simply installed temporary panelling which can be easily replaced. The top level is the master suite. Where would you like to begin?”
“We might as well start at the bottom and work our way up,” I suggested.
We trooped down the stairs.
“No lifts?” I enquired semi-facetiously.
“We can install a lift if you wish but we don’t recommend it,” one of the anonymous aides’s said in a tone that brooked no argument.
“It isn’t important.”
The trivee room had a state-of-the-art trivee system and room to put settees, divans, reclining chairs or whatever I felt would be comfortable and relaxing. The kitchen was, similarly, state-of-the-art and could cope with fresh food as well as reconstituted. It lacked the familiar buttons.
“This is possibly a silly question, but where are the kitchen controls?” I said.
Madam Wispwillis laughed. “Everything’s fully integrated. That is the master panel. Tell the ibic what you want and your options are displayed there. Then you can either touch the screen or instruct the ibic. There are control panels in every room so all domestic functions are available from anywhere on the ship.”
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