Chapter 2
Starliner Athos Nexus Main Chat
Chattykaffi: Good Sunday morning, cruisers! It’s a beautiful day in the galaxy. Please check your activities tab to see everything that’s happening. If you’re craving coffee, stop by Rocket Roasters on Deck 30 to get your fix! Today’s special is the Blue Moon Latte.
Guest12993: The latte sounds great. How do I change my username?
Nexus_Mod11: Guest12993, I’m private messaging you now.
Starliner Athos Nexus Chat 2
HappyTraveler: Any other cruisers interested in a game of pickleball? Looking for a fourth to join us. SimDeck 4 at 15:00. Message me here if interested!
JanuaryGirl: Shout out to Ragesh at the Cloud 9 Spa. Best massage ever!
Starliner Athos Nexus Chat 3
KelinHK: If you’re on Deck 13 and are missing an earring, call housekeeping to describe and claim.
MaintenanceMark: Vuums at it again, huh?
KelinHK: Always
T hree pleasant chimes announced the start of my day. Much better than the computer voice. The lights in my bedroom slowly brightened, erasing the dark with the warm glow of artificial sunlight. The window, which was smaller than the one in the living area, went from opaque to clear.
Was it weird to still want privacy in the middle of deep space? Maybe. But humans were designed that way, I supposed.
Harry was asleep by my feet. He was there every morning. Not sure if that was a choice he’d made or his programming, but either way, seeing his chubby self half upside down, one paw in the air, was a great way to start the day.
I eased up to a sitting position, already smelling the coffee the computer began brewing upon my scheduled wake-up. Proof, I supposed, that the computer wasn’t completely annoying.
I sighed. Sunday was supposed to be my day off, but Miriam had called last evening to say she’d had an allergic reaction to some Trillon wine and was in no shape to come in. I agreed and told her to get herself to sick bay for some relief.
That was the downside to visiting new planets. Our human systems didn’t always react well to new things.
Anyway, here I was, headed to the library on what should have been my day off. Again. Such was the life of the head librarian.
I glanced down at Harry’s furry perfection. His white bits were snowy, but his orange sections had soft stripes. Was there anything cuter? I doubted it. “Morning, Harry.”
At the sound of my voice, he chirped, rolled over further onto his back, and kneaded his paws in the air. I smiled at his sweetness. “I know. I’d much rather stay in bed, too, but work awaits.” I reached down and gave him a quick belly rub. His tummy jiggled just like a real cat’s. “Come on, now. Up and at ’em.”
I drank my first cup of coffee while watching the Morning News Report . The feed from the Nexus Main Chat scrolled across the bottom of the screen. Mostly cruisers with questions. Those of us who called the Athos home generally stuck to Nexus Chat 3. Cruisers didn’t have access to that chat space.
Harry had settled into his charging station at the end of the couch. It was conveniently disguised as a cat bed and stayed in that spot. He had another one at the library, since he usually went to work with me. Most people who had android companions took them along, if their jobs allowed. A small minority of people didn’t like it, but I thought it made the starliner seem that much friendlier. What was there not to like? Android companions weren’t noisy, didn’t make messes, and didn’t shed.
Honestly, some people didn’t know how to be happy unless they were raining on someone else’s parade.
I sipped my coffee and sighed at the news report. Most days it was the same old thing. An update on the starliner’s position, what interesting planets or star formations could be seen from what decks, how long before we reached the next starport and what could be expected there, a crop and livestock report, a check-in with the various activities happening, what movies would be shown at the cineplex, and, on really slow days, a mention of birthdays and anniversaries.
News on a starliner was surprisingly boring, but Claire Weatherall and Andrew Woolsey did their best to keep things lively and entertaining. For the first few months of the trip, they’d done interviews with various people on the starliner, but it seemed they’d exhausted everyone they thought interesting enough.
Even I’d been interviewed, although my daughter, Hazel “Haze” Perry, had been one of the very first. Made sense, as she was the vice-admiral. I was extraordinarily proud of my daughter. I wished her father had lived to see her success.
Coffee gone, I took a quick vapor shower, brushed my teeth, dried my hair, moisturized, slipped on my wristband, then put on the dreaded jumpsuit and my boots. Sometimes I added a belt or a cardigan, but I also kept a cardigan in my office in the library. The ship could occasionally get chilly, and hot flashes never happened when you wanted them to.
Today I went with a red tank top underneath so I could leave the jumpsuit unzipped a little, then tied a red patterned scarf in my hair. I almost always wore a scarf in my hair. It was kind of my signature.
My once-black hair showed more gray every year. The scarf was my way of distracting from that. Okay, I knew it didn’t cover the gray at all, or actually distract from it, but let me have my fantasy, all right?
If there was ever anything that desperately needed jazzing up, it was this gray jumpsuit. My earrings were the ones I usually wore, my half-carat-each diamond studs. Those had been a gift from Ned on my fortieth, and they had great sentimental value. My engagement and wedding rings sat in a little drawer in my jewelry box. Ned and I hadn’t been a passionate love match, but we’d been great friends and had shared a real affection for one another.
He’d also given me Hazel. Ned would have been just as proud of her as I was if he’d lived long enough to see our daughter’s success. He’d probably have cried a little. Ned had been sweetly sensitive like that.
Wasn’t Ned’s fault he’d passed too soon, and just because he was gone didn’t mean my affection for him had disappeared. It never would, either. We’d had a good life together.
I went out to the kitchenette, put my coffee cup and spoon into the sterilizer, then closed the door. “Harry, time to go. I know it’s not our usual workday, but I’m probably going to be there all day. You coming?”
Harry lifted his head to look at me, gave a little chirp, then jumped down and met me at the door, the little spaceship charm on his collar swinging. I tapped the panel to open the door, and off we went.
My first assistant librarian, Itzak Bazran, would have normally come in, too, but I’d messaged him about Miriam and told him to come in a few hours later, in case I needed him to fill in for her again this week. He ran the library with either Miriam or Laura on Saturdays and Sundays—shortened hours those two days and no schoolchildren to worry about, except for those who might be working on a project.
Itzak was a nice fellow, and I liked him very much. As I should, considering I’d had a hand in his hiring, the same as I had with my second and third assistants, Laura and Miriam. All three of them were lovely people who knew their library sciences back to front.
The library wasn’t far from my quarters. Three ancillary corridors, then straight down the main one. It was positioned near the center of the ship, so it was easily accessible to all, including the cruisers. Not that it was so hard to get anywhere on the starliner. But some places, like the agricultural decks, were farther away on purpose.
The tourists could visit just about any working area of the ship if they signed up for one of the guided tours. I’d taken the tours myself for the information and to get to know my new home.
At the library’s entrance, I held my wristband up to the scanner. A quick blip of recognition and the doors opened. The doors would remain unlocked until the library closed at seven.
Harry trotted in along with me. I went through my usual routine of turning the lights on in the workstations and firing up the main computer banks. There were twenty single-occupancy workstations, ten that could hold up to three people, and five classroom-size stations that were often used for meetings of the various groups on board: crafters, collectors, star enthusiasts, gamers, and a whole host of others. If you wanted to get involved in something or find people with similar interests, it wasn’t hard.
Classes were popular, too. Anyone who had the time and desire could take courses in just about anything, earning themselves additional degrees or just learning something new. It was a twenty-year round trip. Continuing education was never a bad idea.
At the moment, there were seven full-time students working on bachelor’s degrees and three working on doctoral degrees, but there was a whole handful of folks who came in regularly to take classes just for the sake of acquiring knowledge.
I scanned the day’s schedule on the main desk terminal. Classrooms one and three had been reserved by teachers for special presentations. I double-checked that those reservations were still in place and the times accurate. They were.
Next, I walked the stacks to be sure everything was in order. Harry went with me, making the rounds.
There weren’t many physical books. Yet. Books were heavy. They took up payload weight that could be used for more vital things, like food and water. However, the library had the capacity to print as many as three thousand books during our journey.
In order to be printed, a book had to meet several criteria, but mainly it had to be something of reasonable general interest. In other words, not something only one person would ever use. There were rare exceptions, but so far that meant all of the books printed to date had been nonfiction reference material. That would probably remain true.
Fiction was widely available in the form of digital books. No one had any complaints about reading for pleasure that way. It was just the academics who wanted physical books when they were studying something.
I understood. It was hard to have several reference texts open at once when you were reliant on screens. Even using a screen table, which could hold up to ten different texts at a time, wasn’t the same as having physical books before you.
Two of the books I’d printed had been for Andrew Woolsey, and I expected him to ask for a third any day now. He just had that kind of entitled air about him. Although he anchored the Morning News Report , his main work was as a scientist in cellular biology and molecular botany with an occasional drift into theoretical botany. I knew because that’s how he was listed on the starliner’s staff page.
And ever since the Athos had left its orbital docking station, he’d been vocal about working on a big project. Secret but not so secret he didn’t like to bring it up every chance he could. He loved to talk about how revolutionary it would be without ever sharing a single detail.
I didn’t know exactly what the project was—no one did—just that it required him to occasionally spend time in the library poring over old texts.
Andrew wasn’t my favorite person. He looked nice enough on the Morning News Report , but in person he had a big feeling about himself. Like he genuinely thought being part of the news team made him better than the rest of us. Or maybe it was because of the project he was working on. Hard to tell. Maybe it was a combination of the two.
I longed to remind him that his news report went out to a grand total of about three thousand on board, give or take a few, depending on the cruiser numbers. He wasn’t famous. He wasn’t even internet famous. He was just Andrew Woolsey, one half of the morning show and, basically, the plant guy.
That’s how I saw him anyway.
But he was still a patron of the library, so when he came in, I tried not to let my feelings show. I saw the way he flirted with the younger women on board, though. He definitely thought he was some kind of gift to civilization.
I wished I knew what he was working on. If it was some new form of plant-based Viagra… Shaking my head, I returned to the big circular main desk and glanced at the schedule again, then checked webmail. There was a request for any information I could provide on the first moon colony for Mr. Ahnmer’s class.
Harry settled into his usual spot, his charging bed. It was strategically placed on the back part of the desk, giving him a view of everything. I loved having him close. He was good company, android or not, and the kids that came in loved him.
I did a quick search for the information on the moon colony and sent it directly to Mr. Ahnmer’s inbox, being sure to include the short, animated film SpaceX had made about it. Hopefully, that would give him what he needed for Monday morning.
I reached back to give Harry a quick scratch on the head. He purred with contentment. I moved my fingers to under his chin, and he closed his eyes. “You sweet boy. You’re the best unpaid worker this library has.”
Behind me, someone sniffled loudly . “Ellis, you know I’m allergic to cats. That’s why I came in today. I thought you’d be off.”
I knew Andrew Woolsey’s voice. I rolled my eyes before turning around. “I’m filling in for an unwell colleague. Also, it’s generally understood that android cats, just like all android companions, are hypoallergenic by design.” I gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Good morning to you, too, Andrew.”
“Dr. Woolsey, please.”
I stopped smiling. “You referred to me by my first name. Is that not what we’re doing now?”
“Did I?” He acted puzzled. “Well, anyway, if you could just get my print request started, that would be great.” He gave me a quick smile that vanished almost as soon as it appeared.
What a phony baloney. I turned and gave Harry one more pet before responding. “I don’t have a print request from you.”
“Did you check your inbox? I sent it as soon as I finished the morning show.”
He loved to mention the morning show. Like anyone needed reminding that he was on it. “I just looked through my inbox. No request. Also, you know requests have to be vetted. Not only that, but you’ve already had two printings approved in the nine months we’ve been on this tin can.”
He made a face. “Are you saying there’s a limit?”
There was and there wasn’t. It was pretty much up to my discretion as head librarian. “I’m saying print requests have to be vetted. Resend your request, and I’ll review it as soon as it comes up in the queue.” There was no queue, but he didn’t know that.
He heaved out a sigh and nearly rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He tapped away at his wristband. “There. Can you please let me know that you’ve gotten it?”
I hit Refresh on my inbox. His request popped up. “It’s arrived. I’ll put it in the queue.”
“Fantastic. It’s of utmost urgency, so once it’s printed, can you have it delivered to the molecular botany lab? Or my quarters, whichever is most convenient. Thanks.” Another short, disingenuous smile and he was out the door.
I pursed my lips. Neither was convenient. “Now he expects delivery? My stars, that man is insufferable.”
I ignored his new request to greet a few of the bachelor and doctorate students who’d begun to roll in. They all went straight to their usual study rooms to begin their classes. I hadn’t realized so many of them came in on the weekend, but it made sense if they were working other jobs.
The library began to hum with the gentle vibrations of knowledge and learning. It was marvelous. That quiet, academic thrum brought me a great deal of joy.
Unlike Andrew.
An hour before lunch, Twinnie Nguyen strolled into the library with a bright smile. She was dressed in a multicolor, flowy tunic with voluminous navy pants. “Afternoon, Ellis.”
“Hi, Twinnie. How are you?”
“In search of a new tune.” Twinnie spread her hands wide. “I feel like inspiration is right in front of me. What have you got?”
Twinnie worked on the cruise side as the starliner’s music director, and as such, she had no uniform. She was also an accomplished composer and a true vocal talent. She was in the midst of writing new music to celebrate the starliner’s one-year anniversary. She was one of my favorite people. “Why don’t you take study room eighteen and let me send you a few things?”
“Exactly what I was hoping you’d say.” Twinnie came over to pet Harry. He curled up tighter in response to her affection. “Look at this handsome creature. I should write an opera about him.”
“I’m afraid it wouldn’t be very interesting. All he really does is sleep.”
Twinnie laughed, her blue-black braids swaying as she tossed her head back. “What a life! We should all be so lucky.”
“Right?” I called up a few things on my screen. I’d been keeping a file of any interesting pieces I’d run across, knowing she’d come looking sooner or later. “I’ll have some files to you in three seconds.”
With a wave of her hand, rings sparkling on her fingers, Twinnie headed for her assigned room. “On my way.”
I sent an eclectic group of musical selections to SR18, confident that Twinnie would find something there to stir the creative juices.
Then, reluctantly, I took a look at Andrew’s request, already anticipating how I’d turn it down.
The book he’d requested was The Nine Climes of Practical Plant Alchemy and was an original text dating to the thirteenth century. That was one of the most marvelous things about the library’s database. If a book existed in the known world, it was somewhere in the library’s bubble.
All the same, I arched a brow at the screen in disbelief. Was he serious? Alchemy wasn’t science. It was the ancient belief that certain materials could be transmogrified into other materials. It belonged in the realms of fairy tales and make-believe. It was a kind of magic, really. And not one that had ever been substantiated.
As best I knew, it dated back to the ancient Egyptians. The very idea that lead could be made into gold or eternal life granted through the use of a mythical sorcerer’s stone was preposterous. I snorted. Great reading but still generally dismissed as hogwash and poppycock. Not botany.
What was Andrew up to?