Chapter 10: Liner Notes

The lovely young lady in the livery of an officer of the Ursa Major Shipping Line bowed at them. "Lucas-sama, I am Natsumi Kobayashi, Chief Purser of the Ursa Major Shipping Line vessel Diane Webber. Welcome aboard."

Both Tom and Barbara stared in disbelief at the first uniformed Spican they'd ever seen: brown leather sandals on her feet, a shiny chrome band around her wrist, a light-blue collar with two stars, a light-blue kepi-style hat bearing the Ursa Major Shipping logo, an ID card dangling by a lanyard, and a small purse hanging from her left shoulder. A subtle touch of makeup completed the attractive young Oriental woman's ensemble. Mind-numbing shock prevented either from reacting as the hatches of the skiff's airlock shut behind them and the ramp tunnel disconnected them from the safety and security of the departure lounge.

"If you'll have a seat, you can get undressed once we've cleared the spaceport." With a disarmingly cute but professional smile, the Chief Purser indicated a couple of the acceleration couches lining the cabin's sides.

"Ah, right." Tom gathered what few of his wits remained and led his wife by the hand to the seats, allowing Purser Kobayashi to buckle them in. Barbara allowed their caretaker to take her bag of body care products and place it in a small overhead bin.

"We'll be on our way shortly," Natsumi reassured her passengers, strapping herself in opposite to them as she did so.

Barbara was far from reassured, but was beginning to come out of her shock. "What, or why, or ... ah ... how come you're ... ah ... nude?"

Natsumi frowned in puzzlement. "I thought you knew. SS Diane Webber is a Spican ship. This is the dress code," she added, pointing to her unclad form.

"Oh." Barbara paused, taking in the astonishing information. "Um, thank you." What a ridiculous thing to say, she thought to herself. Still, what else could you say to a naked ship's purser?

Suddenly the import of what Purser Kobayashi had just uttered sank into her shock-befogged brain. "Dress code?"

"Honey," Tom whispered, not having let go of Barbara's hand since they left the departure lounge about a million years ago, "I think she means we're expected to wear the same thing."

Natsumi nodded in confirmation, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Well, Tom realized, on her world, it was normal.

"I can't do this," Barbara whispered, still staring at Natsumi, shock and horror commingled in her brain.

"Your daughter can, your son can, I think that you can. You don't want your children to be braver than you?" Tom tried to keep his voice calm and soothing.

Barbara's grip on Tom's hand was vice-like. "Barbara," he whispered, as comfortingly as he could, "look at me."

Reluctantly she shifted her stare into her husband's hazel eyes. She saw concern, but she also saw his love.

Tom kept his voice almost hypnotically soft, encouraging and reasonable. "You can do this. It's just like wearing a fancy dress to a rubber-chicken fund raising dinner. You've done this before."

Barbara was not hypnotized. "When have I done this before?" she challenged.

Tom thought quickly. "Last night. When we went to bed. All our clothes were in the washing machine at the hotel. Remember?"

Barbara had regained her scepticism. "I also remember we were the only two people in the room."

"And it'll be just like that," Tom informed

"Yeah, right," Barbara snorted in derision.

"All those other people? Just mannequins. Dress dummies. They're not real – not like you and me. Not at all."

She tilted her head forward and looked at him through her eyebrows. "Promise?"

In the background, the sound of the belly thrusters reached their peak. The skiff was hovering over the landing pad, ready to engage the primary thrusters.

"I promise. Have I ever lied to you?"

She looked at him mischievously, and tilted her head in a faux child-like pout. "There was that ice cream you promised me when I was seven."

Tom grinned. His wife had her sense of humour back – everything was somehow going to be all right. "I'll get you a dish when we get aboard," he agreed, using his free hand to pat her forearm. "Your favourite, chocolate."

"With sprinkles?" Barbara asked, curling her arms around his, snuggling close.

"With sprinkles. And caramel syrup. And fudge."

"You're so good to me."

"You're worth it, babe."

Another, louder roar indicated that the skiff's pilot had engaged the primary thrusters. The vessel began arcing through the air toward its date with the Diane Webber, high in orbit above Titan.

As the "fasten restraints" light flicked off, Natsumi stood and addressed her charges. "You need to be nude by the time we reach orbit. You can put your clothes in that box, for storage during flight."

Barbara looked at Tom in fear as he stood and started to undress.

"You can do this," he repeated. "Remember, just mannequins. She's just a mannequin."

"She's a mannequin that talks," Barbara protested, but she gratefully accepted his hand as he helped her to her feet.

The skiff's airlock opened to a luxuriously panelled compartment that was obviously the main point of access to the ship. Opposite was a second airlock hatch, large enough for a family to enter walking abreast. Corridors extended fore and aft, and in the corner was the counter for the purser's office. Part of the forward bulkhead was taken up by a larger-than-life-size painting of the woman whose name graced the ship's bow: Diane Webber, nudist and photographer's model from the middle years of the 20^th Century.

A purser's mate was standing just beside the hatch leading to the skiff. He bowed to the couple respectfully, announcing, "Welcome aboard the SS Diane Webber, Lucas-sama. We hope that your voyage aboard our vessel is a pleasant one. If you come this way, we'll get you your room keys."

He led the way to the purser's office, a counter set into the aft wall of the compartment. There, a device about the same size as a small watch was affixed to first Barbara and then Tom's right wrist. "This is both a key to your room and to anywhere else you are entitled to go, a health monitor for the ship's surgeon, and effectively a credit card. We'll charge any purchases you make to your cabin."

"Thank you, Henry," Natsumi told the man, handing him the paper bag that was the closest to "luggage" that the Lucases possessed at that point. "I need to take it from here. Can you leave this in their cabin? Oh, and there's a box in the skiff for storage in their account."

"Very good, Ma'am." Henry accepted the strange "luggage" and disappeared through the forward hatch.

Natsumi turned to her charges. "I understand that your previous transportation, the SS Icarus, departed unexpectedly, leaving you without anything?"

"That's right," Barbara confirmed, frowning at the memory.

"In that case, let's start by taking you to our shopping arcade? You can get some more practical ship's footwear. We will be at least two days getting to the Lunar Lagrange station." Natsumi led the two through the after hatch to the ship's shopping centre.