Chapter 3

Andrea looks from Tvir then back to me, then shakes her head. We need to make a decision, soon, and I realize she has the more difficult task.

"What are these worlds like?" she asks. "Where do you come from?"

Tvir has managed to learn some of their language, but I'm much more fluent, so I explain to Andrea.

"There are twenty, at last count," I tell her. "At least, twenty that are permanently inhabited. There are others, just rocks, really, where the Mining Company may set up operations for a short time. Others, such as asteroids, can be mined, also, with spacial machines."

"Huh," Andrea scoffs. "You're telling me you're as destructive of your planets, as we are of ours?"

"More, so. There are more of them, and fewer populations to get in the way. You might say, it is often wreathed in, ah, controversy. The Mining Company is, in effect, a monopoly that has fingers in many pies. At times in our history it controlled the Government. Its influence swings back and forth, depending on present circumstances."

"So, this Psschev? You tell me you're a spacer, but you ended up Governor of a planet? How did that happen?"

"Let me go right back," I tell her. "I will give you a brief, expurgated history. We evolved on a planet called 'Centre' in your language. It's called that because..."

"It's the centre?" Andrea interrupts.

"Well, yes. It's where our Government operates from."

"Just one government?" Andrea asks. "What, a democracy?"

"Um," I look at Tvir, wondering how to answer that. "Well, it depends where you live how much democracy there is. Shall I put it that way? The government in Centre has 13 affiliated worlds - the nature of that affiliation, and the level of rule, differs from world to world."

"Okay!" Andrea nods, slowly. "I get that it's complicated, right?"

"You must understand, that, these planets are nothing like your Earth. Perhaps Centre would come close. Psschev, for instance, has a corrosive atmosphere and we have to live in habitats. It was built many Intervals ago when the Mining Company set up. We call it The Colony. Altogether, the populations of all our worlds would barely top 2.5 billion. Some planets, you see, have very small populations, like our Psschev. The importance of the planet to the government is not its riches." I flash a wry smile to Tvir. "Psschev is the traffic control hub of the most remote sector in government space. It borders what we call 'The Void' - a vast expanse of mainly, unexplored nothingness."

"So, you're this commercial pilot, okay? Then you run a planet? How did that leap, happen?"

"That's a long story," I sigh.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Seven of the worlds are Independents. That is, they choose not to be associated with the Government. In the past, there has been, ah, friction between the Independents and the Government. They were complicated questions, you must understand, concerning terms of trade, divisions or resources, mining rights, commercial monopolies, freight costs. There have been periods of open conflict..."

"Wars? And you sneer at our violence?"

"Neither the Government, nor the Independents have the resources or manpower to invade each others worlds and hold them. Therefore, when a war is fought, it takes the form of blockades enforced by private warships we call 'Privateers'."

"Huh, so that's you? You were a mercenary?"

"I suppose. But, it's a career that doesn't quite have the stink about it that it does on Earth. I was very successful in my profession, and gained a good reputation. I made enough to to buy myself that K-75. Not many could claim that success."

"So, because you were good at blockading, they made you a Governor?"

"I didn't blockade, I was a hunter," I bristled. "There is a difference. Any fool can cruise around turning back cargo ships. I hunted them in open space and I chased down Independent Privateers and killed them. That, is where I gained my reputation."

"Sor ree!"

"Um," I collected myself. "Psschev had a very corrupt Governor. Plundered the treasury - many of his staff were tainted. When he left, he took my Governor's gig with him - sold it to the Independents. It was Government property - the only interplanetary craft on the planet. I had to use my Privateer. The people were discontented - it was important strategically to hold the Psschev sector in the Government. The Government reasoned I could bring a good force of Privateers in the event of, ah, trouble."

"Okay, I think," she shook her head in confusion. "So, why are you here, exactly, and how did you know Earth existed? Or did you always know and hadn't got around to visiting? Have you been watching us all this time?"

"No, we had no idea, although polytechs through the years have always claimed there were others out there," I tell her. "No. We had a message from Sbel, an old spacer, ex-Privateer who accepted a commission from the Independents in the 3rd Trade War. Served in the Cascade Sector, solid fellow, good hunter. He is now a jockey for the Mining Company, chasing rocks out into The Void with a scooper. He believed there was an asteroid cluster way out in The Void, only, we couldn't detect it."

"Yeah, and? The message?"

"The message. He reports he has detected what he thought was a piece of space junk. What it was doing way out there we'd no idea. Was it in a remote, eccentric orbit around something? One of our probes sent out a long time ago?"

"You're great at building tension," she tells me. "Only, could you get on with it? This junk, wasn't junk, right?"

"It was an old probe, but not one of ours. Sbel brings it in and leaves it at our old orbital station - left behind my the Miners when they left Psschev. It looked like nothing I'd ever seen. It was obvious it had been in space a long time. Its surface was pitted when many collisions with micro-debris. I took Tvir up to inspect it. He said it was a very simple device, powered by solar energy, however, it had long run out of juice. It took him weeks to dismantle it. Then, he calls me up excited. He'd found something."

"What?"

"Inside a panel was a box containing photographic images on some kind of plastic film. When you shine a lamp through them and project it onto a screen..."

"Slides? You're talking about old slides?"

"Slides, yes. These slides showed star maps from where the probe came from. It also showed cities, landscapes, people..."

"Earth?"

"Your Earth. It showed a very beautiful world full of people who looked like us. It was an electronic calling card from a civilization 20 light years away. It was saying 'hi, we are here, if you want to come visit?' There were pictures of children and adults. Men and women with and without clothes. I thought, '20 light years away, a civilization is sending us soft porn'."

Andrea gives a very throaty laugh. "You, would!"

"There was a picture of a woman. Very beautiful, very sexy..."

"She would be too old for you, now," she says. "That thing was probably sent out in the sixties. It did pretty well to travel 20 light years."

"Impulse memory. A body will continue to accelerate providing it is not affected by gravity, atmosphere. We call it 'impulse memory'."

"Whatever, so you decided to come visit?"

"Tvir and I hit on a plan to boost the economy of the Psschev Sector. We thought this civilization must have advanced very much since that probe was sent out. We imagined, space travel, a system much like ours. Maybe interstellar travel and a people spread out over many worlds? We interested some big Centre investors in financing a commercial operation - tourism, regular travel between your system and ours. We purchased this old striker to make first contact - find some local partners, perhaps, to set up things this end. This old ship cost us over a million credits - very little of it our money. I'm afraid we're going to lose our shirts."

"Oh, you're kidding," she breaks out in laughter. "You travel all this way to set up a tourism business?"

"We had no idea you people were so socially and technologically backward. Your warplanes escorted my Privateer to that base. I thought I was to be welcomed by some of your political and business leaders. I came to talk terms, meet some investors ... Tvir and I were naive and foolish. If only we'd known - maybe spent some time in orbit observing and monitoring your communications? I was so excited, I couldn't wait."

"I'm sorry we were such a disappointment," Andrea tells me, a little disingenuously. "Maybe next time, after we get over the shock?"

"Probably someone else will give it a try. Unfortunately, our investors will probably insist this vessel gets sold to retrieve our losses."

"So?" Andrea, thinks, "if I was to go back with you, I might not be able to come back?"

"Maybe not - couldn't say."

"I wish you'd told me that before I jumped on your ship."

"There was no time."

"So, what am I going to do? If I go back, I'll be arrested. If I go with you I may be stranded. What if things don't work out? What if my immune system can't handle your environment? Shit, what have I done?"

"I will look after you, don't worry."

"The hell, Governor!" she bristles with anger. "Look, I'm not that adventurous - no really. I'm a language teacher living a quiet life in suburban Tucson. I pay my taxes, watch television at night, talk to my room mate and hope my husband gets the clap. I don't even go clubbing. Jumping on the first alien space craft I see is so not like me at all. Shit, I don't even have a change of underwear."

"You want a change of undergarments? You wish to go back and pick up a few things?"

"Don't be silly. The Feds will be all over my apartment."

"You have a trusted friend, maybe, who would be able to purchase the things you need on your behalf? We could meet them, perhaps, in some remote place? Or else, if you decide to go back, they could pick you up and help you start a new life away from the authorities?"

"Maybe?" she looks lost in thought. "This is too fast. I need space to think this through. I have an old college buddy - you have a mobile phone? Crap, will it work all the way out here?"

"Tvir might be able to rig up something. He has studied your networks."

"Okay, but, for now, I need to rest. Can I use your quarters?"

"Sure." With that, she walks slowly out through the back hatch.

On our S-7, there is no laundry. In fact, none of our light ships would have such a device, which is a necessary part of all long distance Earth travel. Our enviro-suits process body waste and dirt. On Earth, they have to change their clothes frequently, and Andrea is still in her military coverings. When I go to my quarters some time later, after discussing our options with Tvir, Andrea has washed her clothes in the shower - which is generally for emergency use and, well, I find it a refreshing experience - and draped her garments around my quarters to dry. She is sleeping in my bunk in just her underclothes. It is a sight that stirs my interest.

She wears the most briefest of panties. Her bottom is beautiful and, somehow the stretched fabric that vainly tries to cover it, makes it appear even more sexy, but I resist the temptation to caress it. Instead, I go to the shower myself to ease the aftereffects of this most erotic sight. Some moments later, the door opens and she is standing there, still in her underwear.

"Oh!" she says, startled, as if she didn't expect me to be naked in my own shower. "Sorry," she says, uncertainly. She thinks about closing the door, again, but stands there seemingly conflicted. She licks her lips, "Huh, is that the usual way you greet a lady?" she grins, her eyes flicker down towards my erection.

"You wish to mate?" I ask, not thinking of anything more appropriate.

She laughs again, then covers her eyes with her hands, her face reddening. "Suddenly, I've gone all shy," she says. She sighs, deeply, and absently covers her crotch with her hand. "I, I, don't think I could do this. On the base, when we couldn't do it, it was fun. Um, you, see? After I learned about my husband and that bitch he ... After all that, I felt, um ... Well, Ron and I were childhood friends. We use to hang out as kids. He lived a few doors down. It kind of felt natural to become boyfriend and girlfriend. We made these silly pacts. I never really dated anyone else. We got married at the local church. It was okay for a while. I spent most of my time studying. Maybe he felt neglected, I don't know. My friends used to tell me how wonderful their marriages were, how the sex was great and stuff, but Ron and I ... It didn't really work, y'know? I mean the two of us in bed. He was unhappy, I know he was. I just thought, well, 'is this it?'"

"He wasn't skilled at mating?" I suggest.

Andrea gives a little laugh. "Neither of us were getting much out of it. I dunno, maybe sometimes it doesn't work? I tried sexy underwear, some stuff. I even watched some porn, just to get some ideas," she laughs, wryly. "Then, he started staying out at bars, picking up girls and screwing them in our van. I knew a few of them."

"You felt ugly, unwanted, rejected?" I suggest.

"Yes, yes, all of those things. I concentrated on my work. Alone I would dream of how it could be with the right guy. I would think of these situations and, ah, use my hand. My hand gave me more satisfaction than my husband. It shouldn't be that way. My friend Carol used to say 'the hand was for emergency use, only, '" she chuckles.

"Of that we have a lot in common," I tell her.

"Yes," she laughs, "I suppose we do. Then this alien comes along, Tall, slim, with eyes that always seem to be undressing me. You wanted me, and that felt very, very good, after ... We touched and teased - played under the table and it was the best fun. I would scoot back to my quarters after and finish myself. I was happy, I felt desired. But, at the same time, safe, because I knew it wouldn't go any further. Now, with that thing pointing at me, it's now real and I'm scared. I'm not ready to take it to the next level. I don't think I was ever prepared to go that far, but the thought of it was exciting. Does that makes sense to you?"