by DRK
Mr. and Mrs. McCleer boarded the Space Dart, a short space ship lying on its belly on the launching pad. George carried his own bag as well as his wife Nina's while she checked the row numbers looking for their seats. On these short trip rockets there was no such thing as first class, business, or regular coach. All seats were equally uncomfortable in the small cabin. "There, George, I found 'em!"
She hurried to the seats, her greying husband following right behind, struggling with both their bags, trying not to bop with a cumbersome bag any passenger's head. While he loaded their carry-ons into the overhead compartment, Nina confided in a whisper, "George, I'm still a little uneasy about this flying through a wormhole stuff."
He sat beside her and took her hand. "Hon, you know flying is safe."
"And you know very well that's not what bothers me," she answered in a scolding tone. "I don't trust going into a wormhole to get to the World of Hope. Sparkle City should be all it's cracked up to be, to compensate me for all this anxiety."
George gave her hand a small pat. "It's just the newness of the thing, you know. After all, at first people were afraid to travel by ship and later by car and by plane. I bet our forefathers at one time were even afraid of traveling on horses."
"Yeah, but in a way they, too, were justified. Look at all the travel accidents that have happened throughout history."
Rather than argue logically, George just kissed her. Sometimes that assured her more than all the reasoning his mind could produce. Nina seemed to relax some. "It'll be nice to see my old friend Xavier again. Oh, I mean Gov. Bright. You aren't worried about me seeing him again after all these years, are you?"
"No, not at all. Should I be?"
She chuckled. "Of course not. It's as you say, since I am with the best, I forgot about the rest."
George admitted, "I do have some concern, however, about Xavier. I hear he's getting more narcissistic these days. Who would've supposed that to be even possible? What if I have to give a bad report about him back to Earth, and I recommend they replace him? How will he take that, I wonder."
Somebody calling loudly for some booze from the back rows distracted George from his worries. He and Nina turned to see who wanted to be the center of attention. A young man had just found his assigned chair and sat in it. He had some traveling companions with him- or at least they all appeared to be part of the same group of young adults. The young man with a noisy mouth demanded a drink- "Bourbon, preferably."
George and Nina turned away from watching the gang of youths, with George shaking his head. "That guy looks familiar. Is that who I think it is?"
"Yes, dear, that's Osmo Martin, the big jerk who is always in the news for his antics, heir of Martinology. Because his father is a rich and influential man, he leads a somewhat carefree lifestyle. You'd think, however, considering where we are going, he'd be on better behavior, out of respect for his mother's memory."
"You'd think that," agreed George. "I sometimes cross paths as the Steering Committee's cost and systems analyst with Gunther Martin. He seems okay, but his son-"
"I guess he's going our way, to get away from Earth and wait for the heat to die down after his last news-making event. It was also in the news for awhile that he had an open invitation from Xavier himself to vacation on the World of Hope."
"Just our luck- He takes up Xavier on the offer and is on the same flight we are! I personally think he should've been tossed in jail for a bit to teach him a lesson."
"Now, dear," Nina chided, "anyone can accidentally burn down a house. Had it not been one owned by Leader Bigges, he probably would be in a cell right now, in fact. But Leader Bigges and Mr. Martin are something like friends, since Martinology managed to save Bigges' life years ago. So Bigges looked the other way, but was still plenty mad enough so that Osmo decided to leave for awhile. A wise move on his part, I'm sure."
Gazelle, the head stewardess, hurried over to the yammering Osmo Martin. "Is there something I can get for you, Mr. Martin? Something besides matches, I mean."
"Haha, funny. I would like a stiff shot, if you please, my good lady," he asked. “And be quick about it. I am thirsty.”
I'd like to give you a stiff shot to your face, you jackass, Gazelle thought silently. No way I am giving booze to a jerk like you. Smiling sweetly, she offered, "I can get you a nice ginger ale. It's not our policy to serve alcohol to young people."
"Wha-aat?" Osmo gasped, feigning confusion. "You know, the governor of the World of Hope specifically invited me and my friends to come to Sparkle City to relax after all our grueling years of toil at school. He even paid my fare and the fares of my friends! How can I relax if you don't get me a drink?"
Gazelle nodded. "I read about how grueling your days of schooling were. All those parties you had to attend must have been draining for you. No booze on this flight for you, period."
Osmo now found it a battle of wills. "You do know who my father is, right? And the governor of Hope wants to be my friend, too. Like I said, he invited us. Right, Al? Tell her I'm right."
Albert told his pal, "Osmo, you know we were invited mostly as a PR move, with an aim to get Hope in the limelight and increase tourism. You know the governor's not really interested in being friends. He's too busy running the planet. Try not to give the lady a hard time."
Jane, holding onto Albert's arm, rolled up her eyes over Osmo's antics. "I hope you won't act like this all the time we are on vacation, Osmo. I only came along because Albert came. You will behave, okay?"
Another young woman spoke up from a nearby chair. "Hey, you leave Osmo alone. He just wants to have a drink. What's wrong with that?"
Jane turned to Mita. "Hi, Mita. It sure is coincidental that you happened to also be planning a vacation to the World of Hope and then took the same flight that Osmo is taking."
"So, what about it, Jane? Coincidences happen all the time."
Jane talked in lower tones. "Mita, don't waste your time chasing this Osmo. We are out of school now. Get over him. Look at all the other handsome men around you who like you. Osmo can barely take his eyes off himself; how is he going to see you?"
Mita's cheeks flushed. "He will, one day. He will notice and appreciate me eventually. It's only a matter of time. So mind your own business. If I want advice, I'll call my grandfather."
Gazelle brought Osmo a Coke without the rum and checked on other arrivals.
When everybody was seated, she went to the front of the passenger cabin, and four other flight attendants also took their places, each choosing one of the four corners of the cabin, to make sure everybody could see the safety demonstrations they were about to perform to prepare the passengers in case there was an emergency. Gazelle gave the standard safety speech and showed what to do with the seat cushion and how to convert it into an oxygen mask.
Capt. Shatner's voice interrupted them, announcing over the PA speakers that in ten minutes the Dart would blast-off, and "so please buckle up. Be prepared for some uncomfortable g-force. Our floor gravity automatically activates and reduces the effects, but until the rumored g-force dampers are perfected and made standard equipment, all space travelers must still experience the mild unpleasantness."
The stewardesses secured all their things and did a final check before strapping themselves in ahead of the final minute. The screen on the wall in front displayed giant numbers as the countdown for the last ten seconds began. A giant ten, a giant nine... Osmo counted aloud with the screen's display. "...8...7...6..." Soon, the rest of the passengers joined in, counting down to zero.
"Lift-off!" Capt. Shatner shouted over the speakers from the cockpit, and the mighty engines of the Space Dart roared to life. The space ship zoomed forward on its launch pad, and its fins caught the air, lifting it into an upright position. In the next moment, it shot almost straight up, the g-forces making one and all grunt, even the flight attendants, who should have been used to it by this time (as if one could get used to such a thing). Up, up the Space Dart soared, past the clouds, past the atmosph
ere... and into outer space.
"Wow, I sure could use some booze right now," Osmo called out.
In a few moments the rocket adjusted course and headed toward the blinking blue light in the distance. It resembled a blinking star. Through some trick of using the gravity of the wormhole, satellites were set up to orbit the mouth of the wormhole, marking its place with the flashing signal. A few security ships patrolled nearby, clearing Capt. Shatner for passage. When the Dart got closer and closer, the screen in the flight cabin focused its view on what lay ahead of the ship. Folks also craned to see out the portholes where they sat, still belted in their chairs. A colossal hole in the blackness of space yawned in front of them, directly in their flight path. It was huge. No stars were visible behind it. The opening of the hole in the void of space stretched a football field's length in diameter.
Nina gripped George's hand tighter and tighter the nearer they got to the mouth of the wormhole. The kiss must have worn off. George, too, gripped back a little harder than comfortable. A silence filled the ship, except for the thrusters that pushed the Dart over the threshold and into the tunnel. Even Osmo became quiet.
Good, finally, thought Gazelle in her seat. That always shuts them up.
The Tunnel