Crossroads with Half the Information

by Topaz Hauyn

  Timotey waited for Lisbeth to check out the other customers who finished shopping in the starship shop. He liked this shop the most and came here every time he was woken up. The last clerk had been an old man without children who always talked about a niece who would inherit the shop. He was one of the unlucky crew members that hadn’t found himself a woman to form a partnership, like those working here called it. In all the time he had been here, visiting one generation being followed by the next he had felt a bit like a God. Appearing once every decade, watch how the humans grew up, aged, vanished, and got replaced by their children in an endless cycle. They were serving him. Filling the store to his pleasure, searching a habitable planet for him and his comrades of today’s batch of settlers to settle down and make it into their new world. However long that might take.

  He had followed the news closely. A few batches were already delivered successful, like they said. His would be the next. In a few weeks of awake days. He didn’t count the years he slept in that artificial state of neither living nor being dead. He knew the machines moved his body around, so he was as muscled as he was the day he boarded this generation space ship. But he had no memory and no feeling during that time. He could wait a few more weeks. Assumed, the planet they flew to did live up to the promise the scientists saw in it on the astronomy pictures from far away.

  Aside from that, today he would enjoy the day with the new clerk. She was beautiful despite the blue suite everyone working aboard wore. Her brown hair was bound back into a braid and her brown eyes had seemed to sparkle while she had looked at him.

  One strand of hair had escaped the braid and hung freely forward, caressing her chin in a slight curl.

  He wanted to caress that chin too. With his fingers first and later with a trace of kisses.

  Instead, he stood back and waited for her to have time searching a present with him. His mother would be happy getting a gift.

  He let his gaze drift through the store. No book. He had already checked those. His mother preferred romances. Neither fantasy nor science fiction nor biographies would make her happy and there had been no romances on the shelves. They were probably still with their readers and mostly circulated among the batch and not through any of the shops on the starship. She didn’t need new clothes. All of them wore suits with hooks for the robot arms to grab and move their bodies around during their not-awake period.

  Somebody moved.

  Timotey caught a sparkle from the other room. Maybe jewelry? Somehow he didn’t think a sparkling ring or bracelet might make his mother happy. She would like to know more if he finally found himself a wife he wanted to marry. Some younger girls had grown up during the last two years of awake time. Some of his age had shown interest in him. Remarking on his muscles that promised to be helpful building the first houses and creating a new home on the new planet.

  A planet he didn’t think too much about.

  First he had to arrive. Second he couldn’t change his new home and would do whatever was necessary to make it habitable. But forming plans ahead? He stopped doing that after realizing how long the travel would take. Who knew if any of the earlier batches still lived? The ship now traveled about as long as there had been traces of intelligent human life on Earth. Maybe they could just turn around, fly back and find Earth perfectly livable again?

  Lisbeth walked over with her fake smile getting softer, turning into a real smile.

  Timotey pushed the thoughts away.

  “Who shall get the present? What’s the occasion to celebrate?”, asked Lisbeth cocking her head a bit to the side. Showing more of the side of her neck.

  The loose strand fell to the side. She pushed it back behind her ear, raising her eyebrows in a silent repeat of her question. He could look into her brown eyes all day.

  “A gift for my future wife”, said Timotey.

  He didn’t have a fiancée, less a future wife. No concrete one anyway.

  Maybe Lisbeth could be the one?

  No, never. He knew the rules. No connections between passengers and crew. It had been in all the contracts they had set up on Earth so long ago, before they hired the first crew. Contracts which were still in place. Children who didn’t agree to sign them as successors of their parents were killed.

  A brutal method but necessary to keep the starship on its course. He remembered the heated discussions on the Internet, the newspapers and on television back on the planet before the first nail for the first of seven generation ships was even manufactured.

  But today he wanted to change those contracts. Find a loophole to get a chance at getting to know Lisbeth better. Her smile, her true smile, touched something deep inside him. The memory of fun and the positive prospect in a colorful, beautiful future. One filled with joy besides all the work, that was obviously waiting for him.

  “Does she have something she likes a lot?”, asked Lisbeth.

  “Like what?”, asked Timotey.

  Lisbeth cocked her head the other way, as if she was thinking.

  “Jewelry, clothes, books, sweets for example?”, said Lisbeth.

  Another group of customers walked over. Lisbeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

  “Be back in a moment. Look around yourself in the meanwhile. Will you?”

  With that she put her artificial face back on and returned to the other customers, checking out things and answering questions about what she offered, what she couldn’t offer and what might be found in one of the other shops around the starship.

  Timotey didn’t look around the other rooms of the shop. All were filled with people by now. Instead, he watched Lisbeth work, talk and smile. She was nice to everybody and even wrapped some items into paper, adding a bit of decoration here and there. Not as much as a clerk on Earth would have, but more than the previous clerk would do. She genuinely seemed to like her work and her customers.

  Lisbeth didn’t realize how fast time flew by. She checked out customers and answered questions. People came and went. Business as usual. The later the morning, the more changed the smell of unwashed bodies to cleaned and perfumed people who valued showering higher than getting rare books. Priorities varied. In the late afternoon she would need to refill the shelves with the alcohol for those who used it to fall asleep easier.

  No one really needed it. The methods used to let them sleep worked on all humans the same way. But there was a hard core group in each batch that preferred to get drunk before. A habit they held dear.

  Something was different though today.

  A pair of brown eyes followed every move of her. Timotey didn’t look around for the present, he always waited for her to find another minute to question him about his future connection partner to find out what kind of present might be the right one.

  Slowly but inevitably she got the hunch that he didn’t have a person in mind. Or rather, he had one in his mind and that this person mostly resembled herself.

  An idea she liked a lot. At the same time the thought frightened her. They would never be able to form a connection. Ever.

  Every question she asked was answered with another question: “What would you recommend?” or “What would you prefer?”.

  The people left slowly. It was nearly time for lunch and the outside of the shop would show the closed sign.

  Finally, only Timotey was left. Standing a few steps to the side, looking at her with his deep brown eyes.

  “Shall we have lunch or keep searching the perfect present for your future connection partner?”, asked Lisbeth.

  Timotey came closer. He smelled clean and a bit sweaty at the same time and something different. More like a man and living human than all the other men she had met for dinner. A scent that intrigued her. She drew in a deep breath and tried to store the scent safely in her memory.

  “Can we have lunch delivered to your shop? So we can eat and look for the perfect gift?”, asked Timotey.

  Lisbeth thought about the idea. More time alone with Timotey would help her memorize him better. M
aybe she would see him again every ten years for a day. Maybe not. The starship was big. Even she herself hadn’t been everywhere.

  “There is no delivery service on the ship. We might have to go and buy something”, said Lisbeth. “Or rather, you should do that.”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Will you wait for me and let me in before opening hours start again?”, asked Timotey and took her hand.

  His skin was soft and warm. There was no rough spot, only softness and firm muscles underneath the skin, that held her hand lightly.

  She could pull back, but wondered what might happen, if she took his hand into hers as well. She had to stop such thoughts.

  With a sorrow ache in her chest, one she didn’t know like the fluttering feeling in her belly earlier, she stepped back.

  “I’ll let you in”, said Lisbeth.

  She watched Timotey stride out of the shop. The door opened silently. A scent of fried food from the customer restaurants came in and got filtered away by the air conditioning system. One of the many background sounds she usually didn’t hear anymore. Now she heard the low humming machine all the louder. To the humming background sound she listened to her fast beating heart.

  Could there be a way to form a connection with him? She had to find out. He’ll need a bit of time. Enough for her to call Marimbe. She knew everything about research and maps and decision-making. More important: She calculated risks on a daily basis. Maybe she could help her.

  Lisbeth set the door on auto-open for Timotey and walked into the little storage room, where she had a place to sit and a communication panel. She called Marimbe.

  Her sister answered immediately.

  “How is the shop going?”, asked Marimbe.

  Lisbeth smiled at the laughing face of her sister.

  “Great, as always. How’s risk calculation?”, asked Lisbeth.

  “Ugly, demotivating and boring. Did you expect to hear good news?”, asked Marimbe.

  They laughed together. It was a family joke, that the shop was running well, while the planning committee didn’t find a new habitable planet. The moment a possible planet was found everyone only watched the latest news, no matter how little they changed during the day, leaving the shop deserted.

  After some more joking around, Lisbeth gulped and asked directly: “Did you ever learn about a connection between a passenger and a crew member?”

  Marimbe didn’t answer. She stared at Lisbeth without blinking.

  Lisbeth felt herself shrink. She shouldn’t have asked.

  “You didn’t mingle with the customers. Tell me you did not”, said Marimbe in a low voice.

  Lisbeth hung her head.

  “No. Not yet.”

  Marimbe sighted.

  “Great. So many years of dating, finding no one, and now you want to connect with a customer.”

  Lisbeth knew her sister was disappointed. She not only hadn’t fulfilled her duty of producing the next generation of crew members, she also thought about the forbidden.

  “Sorry”, Lisbeth whispered and ended the call without waiting for more moral speeches and questions.

  She ran from the room and directly against a warm wall.

  Timotey.

  Feeling his chest against hers made her feel safe. Somehow things seemed to be more changeable in his presence. A stupid feeling, because she knew, nothing had changed by running into him.

  Lisbeth looked up into his smiling face.

  Timotey heard the door swoosh close behind him. He had hoped for that, but he hadn’t been perfectly sure the door would open again for him. It had been a bold move to ask Lisbeth to have lunch with him. He knew perfectly well she couldn’t go to the restaurants with him. Crew members had their own, separate lunchrooms.

  He was happy to still get fresh salad. The greenhouse section on the starship worked as did the contracts and the education of the successor generations. Something, some had doubted, when first talking about the generation star ships long ago. This doubt was the reason they were woken up every ten years in batches. As a result there were always customers awake at every day. Walking around, talking, asking, checking. It was reassuring to see the system worked. In general.

  At the moment he hated it. He wanted to meet Lisbeth more often. Get to know her better and convince her to become his wife, or connection as the crew members renamed it through the time.

  He looked around the first room. Lisbeth wasn’t in sight. But he heard her voice and followed her through the second room. There was a half open door. Probably the storage room or something similar.

  He walked closer and overheard how another voice insulted Lisbeth of not fulfilling her duty and now breaking the rules.

  Timotey’s heart beat faster. She had feelings similar to his.

  Maybe they didn’t need that much time to get to know each other better?

  She ran from the room straight into his chest.

  Timotey fought for his balance and grabbed the two boxes in his hands tighter.

  He managed barely not to stumble back.

  Then, she looked up.

  Her eyes were swollen from tears and she looked so forlorn he didn’t know what to say. So he turned to the most obvious. Food.

  “I got you a salad and some mashed potatoes”, said Timotey. “Let’s eat and talk. Whoever that person was, it’s not your fault, we have feelings for each other, and I’d like to find a gift that suits you perfectly.”

  He gulped. Being straightforward was more to his nature than lurking around in the shop the whole morning trying to hold back and testing the water. But how would she feel about it?

  Lisbeth still looked up to him. She had grabbed his suit with both hands. The fabric stretched at his back. Not the best feeling, but if it helped her, he wouldn’t complain.

  “Shall we eat and talk?”, asked Timotey again.

  He was awfully aware of time flying by. Her lunch break closing time would soon be over, and he would have to return to his sleeping box shortly after her closing time.

  Lisbeth nodded and slowly let got of the front of his suit. The fabric relaxed in his back, but his chest felt cold and empty. He wanted to put the two boxes away, pull her back into an embrace and close his arms around her. Instead, when she made no step, he sat on the floor, put the boxes in front of him and opened the first.

  The mashed potatoes smelled of hot potatoes mixed with pepper and nutmeg. The salad was a mixture of green leaves, small red tomatoes and diced pepper bells.

  “Here”, said Timotey and held out a spoon and a fork to Lisbeth. “Hurry or the potatoes will be cold.”

  Lisbeth took the spoon and fork from his hand, kneeled down and took a bite from the yellow mush. She licked it from the spoon like she never tasted it before, closed her eyes and focused only on that single bite. Her face looked concentrated. Somehow her pleasure and total focus on that spoon of mashed potatoes made watching her more erotic than anything he had ever seen before.

  “May I kiss you”, whispered Timotey.

  Lisbeth opened her eyes. Huge brown eyes. She nodded slowly as if she was coming back from a far away place.

  Timotey leaned forward until he could scent her perfume. Light enough to not overwrite her own, female scent. He touched her lips with his. Soft skin tasting a bit of potatoes.

  The food was great and totally different to the tastes she was used to form the staff kitchen. Mostly she ate some soups with added vitamins and minerals for staying healthy. The salad that sat in front of them was something she only knew by sight from the menus of the customer restaurants.

  She gulped the yellow thing, that was thicker and with a lot more flavors than any soup she ever had. Should she try the salad next, or rather take another bite from the hot mush? Would it taste ugly when cold? It seemed important to eat it hot. The soups she usually ate were mostly lukewarm. No way she could burn herself eating them.

  He had asked her something. A kiss?

  Lisbeth blinked and nodded.


  The spoon still in her hand, she watched Timotey lean over and close the distance between them. When his lips touched hers, that was a warm feeling. Softer than her fingers and different at the same time. She felt how he opened his lips a bit and touched hers with the wet tip of his tongue.

  “Mhm. Eating from your lips tastes a lot better, than using the spoon”, said Timotey and smiled.

  Lisbeth laughed.

  Nobody every said something similar to her. She knew, from reproduction class what was expected from her in a connection. And technology would tell her which days were best to connect. But there had been a few pages in the back about history, about kisses and fun during the connection. Something she couldn’t ever imagine being true. Not with the sterile suits and the distant, respectful way every man had treated her. Her parents had been the same. She couldn’t remember a single occasion where they had touched each other, let alone kiss.

  Quickly, to avoid a sight and get rid of such thoughts, she took another spoon full of mashed potatoes.

  “Do you know a way to form a valid connection? One that doesn’t break the contracts?”, asked Lisbeth.

  Usually it was the best way to be direct. Asking straight questions led to the best results. Well, if she ignored the reaction of Marimbe, but, alas, she should have known better. She should not eat with Timotey or spend more time with him than was necessary as the clerk and owner of the shop.

  “No. The contracts were made to prevent such things”, said Timotey. “I wish I did know about a way.”

  They finished their lunch silently, eating with one hand, holding each others free hand, like some ancient anchor on an ancient water ship.

  The boxes emptied, and they packed up everything just in time, so Lisbeth could welcome the first customers of the afternoon.

  “I’ll search for a way”, said Timotey and left with the garbage.

  Lisbeth felt alone, standing among the customers, helping here and there. Suddenly, without Timotey, her job felt useless. Her only task was to entertain the customers. A life laid out for her by the fact that she was the daughter of her parents. The third daughter. The spare child. Just in case and to grow the crew back to a size that was deemed healthy. As a matter of fact, she could be a robot. Nobody needed a human being in the shop. They could pay by presenting their id cards to the scanner. Every item was listed in the computer with a price. Prices that never changed. Everything was predefined and her life consisted of rules she couldn’t change.