The Good Ship Bison

Touching a console, I pulled in Pat's thought that if a girl's interests, intelligence, and number of friends diverged too much from mine, there might be problems.

Pat's criteria for raw physical attractiveness wasn't that far off from my perceptions, based on their pictures. Looking at the first one, a college freshman at Stanford, I said, "Call that one, uh... Kara."

Ring. Ring.

"Hello? That's odd. I tried to hang up and it answered. I don't want any."

I turned the video on. "Hey, don't hang up. I'm not ... I'm Kevin Cooper."

"No. You aren't." She seemed sure.

The video resolved and her picture turned on, too. She was in a room with 3 other girls, and the TV was on behind her. Suddenly, the picture on the TV was me, and the sound was me, too. "Kara Nesbit, Yes, I'm Kevin Cooper, and yes, I'm calling you directly."

The girls screamed and turned around, with more than a few 'What-the-fuck's going around.

"Uh, okay, so... you control my TV now?"

"Sorry, my ship's automation makes that pretty easy. Uh, I have a question for you, but first, I want to confirm some things. You're Kara Elisabeth Nesbit, of Coral Gables, Florida?"

"Yes?"

"Obviously, currently at Stanford, good choice. I'm a high school senior this year, I'm 18. I was going to head for UC Davis. Didn't have the grades for Stanford."

"We like it here?" She didn't know how to answer that.

But, I could tell she wanted to know more, like why I was calling.

"Kara, I'm traveling with Madison Charles, and my girlfriend, Alice Peterson, will be joining us tomorrow morning, with a few others. We're going to do some touring, maybe come back to the Moon, maybe look around a little. Bit of a joyride, really. But, there will be some work - keeping track of rock samples we're collecting, asking good questions, translating if we're in other countries, that kind of thing."

She was still confused, "Okay?"

"I had the ship's computer look up people that are smart and athletic and speak another language - you speak... Czech and German? From your parents?"

"A bit of Dutch, too, but, ya, spraekenzie-Deutch, und mluvin chesky, ano, taky."

"Excellent. Can you take a week off of classes to help out as a crewmember on the Bison, here? I can write your professors a note if that helps. I don't know how college works."

The girls in the room screamed and one started jumping up and down.

Kara was more subdued, but obviously floored by this.

I expanded the video so it was both Mads and I, but with only the blank wall behind us, I didn't want to show the control panel or chair.

Just as I did that she asked, "I don't... Uh, I ... what is involved, again?"

"You're qualified. I want you here. I can use your talents. If you're interested."

She squinted at me a little. "What... wait, who is with you?"

Mads spoke up, "I'm Madison. I'm a friend of Kevin's, we ... grew up near each other. Alice will be along, too. She's Kevin's girlfriend. Plus some other girls, probably, maybe 9 of us total?"

"All... girls?"

I shrugged, "I'm a sucker for pretty girls. Plus, there might be some nudity required around here since we might have to put on spacesuits, and I'd rather be staring at girls than guys."

There was laughter in the room behind Kara, and even she smiled. "Thank you for being honest."

"Like I said. It's a medium sized ship, but not a lot of it is living space."

"When would you want to...?"

"Tomorrow morning, we'd pick you up at about 9 am?"

"Wow. Fast. Will this be... paid work?"

I laughed, "I think NASA may pay us something. Not sure. I hope so. I have to pay for college, too."

They laughed at that because we all knew that, based on how famous I was at that point, I'd get free college anywhere just for the college's bragging rights.

"So, Kara, will you join my crew?"

She laughed and said, "Duh! Of course! What should I bring?"

"Clothes for a week, personal items - shampoo or whatever, a few nice cameras, maybe? SD cards so you can take a lot of pictures. Laptop, maybe, for taking notes, and some paper and pens, pencils, whatever. Food, snacks and meals, maybe frozen entrees, big sizes, we'll have like 8 people, so everyone should bring enough for themselves and more. Snacks. Textbooks if you want to study, we won't be busy all the time. Transit time to the moon is like 3 hours one way, at 1 g."

She hesitated, and said, "Oh... I didn't write that down."

Some girl behind her said, "I'm recording this, we can get it later."

Silently asking Pat, I got that girl's name. "Ellen, I would ask that this conversation be private between me and Kara? I don't want this video online. I don't know what kind of money I can make from owning this spaceship, but whatever it is, it's enough to be fair with you."

The girl pressed something on her phone and said, "Oh... Okay."

On the wall behind my phone, Pat put up the rest of Ellen's stats, and her friends' stats, too. They weren't in the same category as Kara's, so that was out.

I said, "Thank you, Ms. Browning. Please show the fact that you're deleting it to Kara? If you do, I'll try to swing it so you don't have to pay for college. Really, any of you in that room. I think NASA will help that much, and if not, I think I can help out."

They screamed, which made sense. Knowing how much Stanford cost, I'd have screamed, too.

Kara said, "Again, where should I be? You need an open area?"

"A parking lot is good, or dirt, or a lawn. Keep your phone with you, and bring a charger or two. Pile your stuff next to you close in, in bags if you can. If it's a big area, we can drop down. If not, we'll lift you in a sphere, it's comfy, Madison did it."

Mads cheerily added, "Oh, yeah, Kara, it's fun! Only a little scary, not bad."

Kara nodded. "9 am. I'll be..."

"We'll find your phone. Leave it on."

She nodded.

I said, "Oh, one more thing. I may have someone else call or text you that they're going to be there, too. I suspect a sample of moon rocks might pay for everyone's tuition, and we have some of those now. If not, we'll do something else."

"Okay."

"See you tomorrow."

We said our goodbyes and I immediately said, "Pat, call Stanford University's chancellor."

Ring.

She answered, we went through a no-you-aren't yes-I-am thing about me really being me.

Kind of funny, I thought.

I had Pat turn on her TV, and then change her smartwatch face to read, "Yes, actually, I am Kevin Cooper".

She finally believed me.

I said, "I'm coming back from the moon right now. I have some moon rocks. I'm willing to give you a sphere, basketball sized, maybe 10 kg, for research purposes. Could I sell it to you, for the cost of, say, twelve student tuitions, four years, so, a total of maybe 200 paid semesters? Existing students?"

She hemmed and hawed a moment, then did the math.

"I can throw in a visit if you like, a low-flyover of campus, maybe? Might be good for getting Stanford in the news."

"I'm afraid that would disrupt classes significantly, Mr. Cooper."

"Very well. Still, I may overfly anyway. I have to pick up some students. What about the tuitions?"

"Yes. I will commit that we will provide tuition for twelve students, four years each, for that material."

"Excellent." I told her Kara's name and the names of her friends. "Have someone at NASA Ames with a heavy pickup truck by tonight about 10 pm. Might want to get there early."

"That soon?"

"Flight time is about 3 hours, we will be leaving the Moon soon."

"Okay?"

We hung up and I told Pat to send a text message to the directors of NASA and NASA-Ames that four of the balls (I was generous) we would be delivering would be, "reserved for Stanford University, they should be sending a truck, ask their Chancellor."

That done, we made some more phone calls.

These went very similar to the first one to Kara, though in order to get the 4 girls I wanted, I had to make six phone calls, two of them were not interested or just thought I was making a prank call.

By this time, the core sample machinery had been made and used, we had it all onboard, everything was loaded, and we took off again.

== CHAPTER: Crew Quarters ==

Looking down (via a video feed), there wasn't much if any dust disturbed by us moving. Whatever the ship used as propulsion, it wasn't a reaction thruster.

We headed out, but just as we took off I remembered we could use the video, so I took out my cellphone to record video from the surface as we flew over.

Arching out, we accelerated away, heading back to Earth and home.

Time computations were tricky, and I didn't have a wall clock, so... we'd left Modesto at 11, 3 hours to the Moon made it 2 pm, 3 hours here, 5 pm... we'd get there at about 8...

I was being stupid. "Pat, from now on, make a display on the top left of each wall in here? Ship's time is Modesto time, plus, say, D.C., London, and Sydney Australia."

Pat did, and I played around until I had a simplified world-map under it with timezones and what part was in sunlight. Part of the data feed showed me Earth's tilt meant Sydney had longer days than anchorage at the moment.

Mads watched this. We talked about how two simple things together were at first jarring but then after a while made more sense. We laughed both about India's on-the-half-hour (really!?) and China's only having one.

Our U.S.-centric ideas had to adjust, the world was complicated.

Standing there being proud of our map, I realized, meant we weren't doing other important things... but... what?

Get ready for guests! That would be useful prep.

I didn't want to always sleep in the control room.

Mads and I sat at the table and made a list of things we'd need if we were going to have a crew of 9. Pat put the list on the wall for us: Beds for everyone, dressers, clothing; 2 bathrooms with showers, a room with instruments to monitor what we were carrying, in case we were hauling something. Desks. Another big conference table for the storeroom, for packing or eating.

Mads asked, smiling, "Condoms?"

"No need for condoms. One of the things the ship's sensors tell me is about health." I remembered what I'd learned about her. "Reminds me, you have a sore spot in your back where... no, shoulder, in back, where you chipped your scapula a long time ago. It hurts when it rains?"

"How did you...?"

"Sensors. I thought it was cool so I looked closer."

She was suddenly nervous. "Anything... else?"

"Nope. Nothing bad. You ovulated two days ago. Either my sperm will fertilize that egg, or not."

She inhaled sharply, her eyes getting big. "And...?"

Her response was designed to be noncommittal, to read me out on what I wanted. I could tell she was super-nervous about the very idea of getting pregnant. I was sure she wanted to go to college. I had no desire to interrupt that, but at the same time, I knew she'd be a great mom. Somehow.

This whole thought process opened up to me, then Very Oddly, in my thought processes, it just closed down again.

It was like, it both was and wasn't part of my priorities.

I kind-of-had a quick intuition that Pat was influencing me. I'd have to watch that. Or, maybe Pat was just letting my inner desires bubble up, so I didn't live with the mentally unhealthy conflict of wanting something and not being able to admit it?

To cap this off, I added, "And, if so, we will celebrate. If not, we may try again, depending on what you want."

"Oh." She just kind of accepted that. I wondered how it was that she was being so calm.

Then, suddenly, other things seemed far more important to think about. In retrospect, YES, of course we were being influenced. At the time, my focus just shifted.

To help planning, I touched a wall and got a mind-dump of how we could reconfigure the interior. Another 2 bathrooms was easy, the ship's top half was volumetrically unfilled. Considering random accelerations, I elected to have the ship build bunk beds with padded walls, handholds, and restraint nets. The mattresses would come from Earth.

Describing this to Mads as I learned it, we learned Pat's custom regenerative-emulsifier toothpaste would also replace scar tissue with healthy young gum tissue. Another instrument, placed in the mouth for a minute, twice daily, would straighten and align teeth over the course of about a week.

Miracle items, I believed. But, Pat informed me, if any of them left the confines of the ship they would dissolve within an hour. Pat was big into ensuring some tech didn't leave the ship.

Preparation done, I head-nodded to the bed, maybe? I was horny!

Mads laughed, but took her clothes off, too, and I got to watch her moving, naked and beautiful.

Her triangle wasn't particularly well trimmed, and she did have some red bumps. I asked out loud, "Pat. Is there a way to keep pubic hair short and only where we want it, easily?"

Pat asked over the loudspeakers, "Please define parameters and growth patterns will be reset."

I said (somewhat more hesitantly than I'm describing here since I was figuring it out), "For me, my pubic hair should be a half-inch long, very thin and soft. It should be sparse or absent on my testicles, off my penis to right near the base, limited on my abdomen and legs to above my penis in a patch half the current area. No visible or long hair, or scratchy hair, in my butt crack or on my back in general."

I'd touched my butt hair, and having it was a hassle and made being clean odd. I had no idea why we had it. I was a little embarrassed to say anything in front of Mads, but then again, we were going to be near each other in close quarters.

Besides, I totally trusted her. It wasn't all logical. I both knew her and didn't know her, but the fact that she'd said she would 'obey', that counted for something?

Pat was influencing my opinion, I was sure of that.

Mads was laying flat on the bed, so I suggested I could help her by specifying her hair pattern, if she wanted to correct me.

She laughed and said, "Go for it."

I started in, clearly defining where the hair should and shouldn't grow. She watched and listened to me narrate with some bemusement.

I said, "Basically for Mads, mostly the same as for me. Above the cleft, a landing strip shape, 4 cm wide, ending 4 cm above the cleft, close-growing hair but very soft to the touch and sensitive. No other long or coarse pubic hair or butt hair. No underarm hair. No visible facial upper lip hair, or hair between the eyebrows as currently defined for standards of beauty. Decrease the growth rate of leg hair to 10% of current growth rate, and when it comes in, make it very light and soft. Make what's there fall out over the next two days or less, as long as there's no pain in that process."

Mads nodded in appreciation. I knew she would have cut in if she disagreed, but I had started to understand Pat's capabilities.

That was enough, and we got back to business. She bent over me, sucked me up to hardness, then lowered herself down to ride me cowgirl. I liked that.

I'd never asked how it was that she wasn't a virgin. I didn't feel a hymen break when I went in the first time, and she seemed to not be obviously inexperienced.

As she did, her breasts dangled again, and I got to play with them, teasing and lightly pull-turning the nipples, setting off all kinds of sensory nerve clusters I was happy to stimulate (Pat gave me insight on what was happening, which was both distracting and wonderful).

I just let her go on riding me, calmly loving the experience. Soon she came, screaming, on me, holding me tightly. I kept moving, pushing UP and IN her, even as she was coming, and that both helped her, and helped me too since I came a minute later.

We both came down from our highs, breathing hard and delighting in each other.

She lay on me until I got soft enough to slip out. As soon as I did, though, she pulled off and sank down my body to get her face over my dripping cock, sucking it into her mouth and licking it all clean.

Apparently, the 'obey' idea just kept going. I had no way of knowing if this was just her deciding to do something, or if she was now compelled to do what I said. I hoped it wasn't too much compulsion, since that might not be healthy if I accidentally said the wrong thing.

== CHAPTER: NASA Ames ==

I took a nap for about 2 hours, until I awoke to the sound of a chime. Pat said, "Please awaken. You might want to get dressed, also. We are entering low Earth orbit, 250 km, aligned to get us to San Francisco in about 20 minutes."

We got up and stretched.

With arms overhead groaning in a tall-stretch, my 'prominence' was stridently at 45-degrees.

Mads giggled and asked if it always did that, and I shrugged, "Morning wood isn't only for mornings."

She filed that away.

It would take us more than 20 minutes to get ready, so I asked for a higher / slower orbit, to give us both time to take showers, and get to Moffett-Ames in an hour instead, and asked Pat to text the NASA administrator, "ETA Moffett, 1 hour. Advise if problems."

Mads and I went in and shared the shower. I'd only tried this once, fast, with Alice, and it didn't work, since we were both rushed and it was nighttime and her shyness got in the way of having the bathroom lights on. We had to maneuver clumsily in the ultra-low light coming in under the bathroom door. With Mads, it was light and happy and I got to soap her boobs. Sweet!!

Thinking back, it was super-odd to take a shower with the lights off. I think the only reason it had worked with Alice was that when I used shampoo, I could navigate with my eyes closed.

Mads didn't have that hang-up. She seemed pretty happy to have some "help" (!yay!).

We got done and dressed again, and I asked Pat to come down over the Pacific and take our time getting to Ames.

Neither of us had clean clothes to put on after the shower, and Mads noted that we'd asked for some so maybe that would include underwear. I laughed and suggested maybe they would include some U.S. Army Official Use Only Government Issue Sexy Lingerie.

We laughed; she said it would just be the Victoria's Secret stuff, but only available in green or khaki and with a Bar-Code clearly screen-printed across the front.

I got into the pilot seat and Mads got to watch me pilot us down, though I was taking a big bunch of clues from Pat showing me thrust-vector and g-loads, along with how well I was doing in an amazing set of graphs and displays.

My big problem was talking with ATC (air traffic control) since I just knew I sounded like an idiot.

I didn't like sounding like an idiot.

I asked Pat, "Can you download big sets of data into my brain, and if you can, what are the side effects?"

Pat said, 'Yes. Small datasets. Pilot's license material will be quick and safe. An entire bachelor's degree would be inadvisable. Most humans only retain a small percentage of what they are taught. Remembering everything would be a burden and possibly damaging."

I asked just for the radio communication rules for pilots, since I was in the pilot's chair. Touching the sensor, the info flowed into me over the course of about a minute. Knowing this stuff was odd, it was a skill, not just knowledge. I couldn't adapt that fast, it was uncomfortable.

Calling up info on the wall-display, I selected the right frequency and keyed the mic. I realized, knowing the rules as, "Section A/7-b, 'pilots shall...'" stuff was NOT the same as having practice using it!

"Oakland Center, this is unlisted Bison-1-experimental, student pilot, over."

"Bison-1, say again? Oakland."

"Oakland Center, this is an unlisted flight, the USS Bison, designate me please as Bison-1, Experimental? I'm a Student Spacecraft pilot. Position 1,3,4 nautical miles due west of San Jose, flight level 995, repeat 9,9,5. Request clearance and approach for VFR to NASA-Ames. Bison-1."