and the Kypris— ” he thumped on his armrest affectionately, “—is very old.” Her eyes widened, and he hastened to reassure her. “You don’t need to worry. She’s in great shape. I just had a excellent payday, and she’s had the best servicing of her life.” Too late, he realized what he’d said, as she turned away to loosen the restraints.
“I’m glad you’re being well paid, though I’m surprised my uncle even spent that much on me.”
“Your uncle?”
She didn’t reply but stepped out of the restraints and moved around the cockpit, running her hands over the instruments. “How long will this journey take?”
“Approximately three months—in fits and starts. We can’t jump to FTL when we’re in the solar systems. The risk of hitting asteroids or space junk makes it too dangerous, so it’s the travel within the systems that takes the longest.”
“And it’s just you? No other crew?” Her gaze still wandered over the hardware.
“I can’t afford crew. The puter does most of the work. I’m needed for launch and landing, for docking and undocking at space stations, to enter and change navigation or jump coordinates and for troubleshooting if something goes wrong. One person can do all that on a ship this small.”
“Troubleshooting? What could go wrong?”
“Oh, lots of things. Like the time the puter went down while I was bringing the ship in to dock at Luna. And the time…” He paused, struck by her excitement and animation. She had the space bug; that was clear.
“I want to hear all your stories. Every single one.”
“No problem. It’ll help pass the time. Loneliness is the worst part of being a one-man crew. It’ll be nice to have company. You sure you’re not a spacer? You certainly sound like one.”
“I think I was born to be one, but…other events got in the way.” Her voice was slow and sad as she continued to explore the cockpit with avid curiosity.
“The puter in your cabin isn’t part of the mainframe. It’s well stocked with reading material, music, art. I’ve some files you might be interested in reading—”
“Files?”
“I…um…write a lot on long journeys, descriptions of places I’ve been—planets, stations, quadrants, that sort of thing. You might find it interesting.”
He let out a sigh of relief when she eagerly agreed. He hadn’t ever asked anyone to read his accounts. The more personal entries were deeply encrypted. There were things he definitely didn’t want her to read.
“But don’t spend all your time reading. There’s an exercise area. It’s important to maintain your strength while on long space jaunts. The ship is gravitized, but not at one hundred percent. Your muscles will atrophy if you don’t use them, and it’s a rough transition when you get back to terra firma. The hold is full of crates right now, but when it isn’t, I use it to run laps. You can use it too when I’ve unloaded the brandy.”
She hung on his every word. “What else?”
“Well, the galley is stocked with nutripacks. Help yourself whenever you’re hungry. They’re a bit of an acquired taste, but they contain every nutrient you’ll need to stay healthy. Drink as much water as you can, but don’t waste any. It’s expensive, and I have a limited supply. Make sure you use the vitalight in your cabin. Sleep with it on. You’ll need the vitamin D. Space travel isn’t too easy on the body…” He trailed off, suddenly focused on her body. “Um…let me know if you’re not warm enough.”
“The temperature is perfect. If I feel cold, I’ll put on extra clothes.”
Javan made a mental note to turn the temperature up.
She returned to examining the screens and keyboards. “And there’s here—the cockpit, the control center.”
Javan had an idea. “Hell, I could teach you how to fly the ship if it’ll help fill the time.”
She whirled around, her mouth a perfect O. She approached him and, touching his arm, stared into his face.