[03] Elite: Docking is Difficult Read Free Page A

again.
    ‘Oh, sweet mother of Belka and Strelka. Look at your stupid plate face.’ Misha Senior cuffed his son round the ear. ‘You want to know why
really
you feel destined for great things? Because you are idiot dreamer just like President. All so many dreams, but no follow-through. Wasting money on expensive notebooks to write big ideas down.’
    Misha scowled. He knew that using
paper
notebooks in the thirty-fourth century was a pretty daft affectation, but he’d seen a show where at the start of each episode Cliff Ganymede, sat behind his sturdy non-synthetic desk, introduced the upcoming space adventure with a real leather-bound journal in his hands. And Misha really liked Cliff Ganymede.
    ‘Nice stationery is important for the creative process,’ he mumbled.
    ‘You never even fill up notebook! I know this because I found one. You write “sit-ups x 100 ”. You write “learn coding language”. Then five pages of drawings of girls in tight tops. You want to know something?’
    ‘Not really.’
    ‘You are much better at drawing boobs than faces. Also, you have no perseverance. You say you will do a thing, then you waste time playing Cliff Ganymede computer game. How are you going be daring intergalactic space-trader when you are never even getting around to doing ship’s health and safety check?’
    Misha Senior started the truck up again and it bobbed on down the road.
    ‘By the way, who is “Phoebe”?’
    ‘Phoebe …?’ Misha pretended to try to recall a Phoebe. ‘I think
maybe
there’s a Phoebe works up on the space station. I don’t remember exactly. Why do you ask?’
    ‘Along with the sketches of girls and ideas for terrible films, you have written down the name Phoebe many times. Sometimes you have drawn flowers next to it.’ Misha Senior shook his head pityingly. ‘Is good your mother is dead in violent threshing machine accident to not see this type of thing.’
    Back at the farm, Misha lay on his bunk and called up his copy of
Are You A Man Or A Thargoid? – Taking Control Of Your Life The Cliff Ganymede Way
. He zoomed through to a random chapter and started to read.
    It’s the easiest thing in the world to give up. I could have given up in episode ten of ‘Galloping Ganymede!’ when I found myself trapped in that asteroid field, a battalion of Thargoids breathing their foul insect breath down my neck. But I did not. I lasered their stupid Thargoid faces in. And by following my Eight Steps To Willpower, you will too! Obviously, because of the current uneasy peace, the Thargoids in your case will be metaphorical Thargoids, but whether it’s preparing for those accountancy exams or impressing a date, the principle still stands. There is an Old Earth expression I like – Carpe diem! It translates as ‘Don’t delay, seize that fish before it rots!’
    Misha switched the book off again and with a resolute firmness of purpose that he was sure would make Cliff Ganymede proud flicked on his personal subspace interface and called up Officer Phoebe Clag’s dating profile.
    He started to type.
    Hello. We’ve never spoken, but I keep noticing you around the docking bays when I’ve been passing through. I have often watched you issuing spot-fines or checking cargo manifests and hoped that someday you might check mine. Does that make me sound like a stalker? I’m not! I don’t want to dress up in a suit fashioned from your skin or anything terrible like that. You do have lovely skin though – it would make for a great skin-suit if I WAS crazy!
    He read it back, shook his head in horror, and tried once more.
    Hello to you, Ms Clag. I happened across your profile, and note that you are interested in meeting new people, as I am myself. A bit about me: I enjoy many kinds of music, unusual wines, laughing with friends, and have read all of Cliff Ganymede’s self-improvement books. I also consider myself a cineaste.
    He clenched his teeth and hit delete.
    Hi! Maybe it would be neat to hang