The Problem With Immortality Ch. 08

Chapter 8

By Gary LM Martin

Chapter 8: To Boldly Go Where Many Men Have Gone Before

"Spacefleet Command? I've never heard of it," said Anson.

"There are a lot of articles about it on the network," said Jessica, lying on the hotel room bed with her legs up in the air as she idly thumbed through the datapad. "Here, I just send some to your pad."

Anson started reading one of them. "Spacefleet Command is recruiting civilians for trips to other planets, to make first contact with alien species and explore unusual spacial phenomena." He stopped reading. "There's already an organization that does this. It's called the Survey Service."

"Well, now there's another organization that does it as well," said Jessica.

"Why would they take untrained civilians on these flight?" Anson asked.

"Because they charge 200,000 credits per flight."

"Now I understand," said Anson. Things were starting to make sense.

They went to the offices of Spacefleet Command in San Francisco, and met with a recruiter named Captain Terrell, a big, heavyset bearded black man who was friendly. But he had some kind of weird birth defect, some kind of finger or worm shaped flesh sticking out of his right ear. Why didn't he get that surgically corrected? Anson tried not to look at it.

"I'm not familiar with Spacefleet Command," said Anson.

"We're relatively new," said Terrell, smoothing out his crisp maroon uniform. "Four ships and growing. We were recently chartered by the World Government."

"To what end? I thought space exploration was handled exclusively by the Survey Service," said Anson.

"Well, yes, but now we have overlapping jurisdiction," said Terrell. "As you know, we face a crisis in the human spirit. With all human needs fully met, people are looking for purpose in life. That's why we started Spacefleet Command."

"To get people interested in space exploration?"

"Exactly."

"For 200,000 credits a trip."

"Space exploration isn't cheap, Mr. Ford."

"And I see your trips are two weeks in length. In two weeks, you can barely get to a handful of stars, all of which are already explored."

"By conventional FTL drives, Mr. Ford. We have enhanced drives on our ships that can go eight times faster than Survey Service vessels."

"Eight times? How come I haven't heard about that?"

"The technology is proprietary, Mr. Ford," Terrell smiled.

"But still... I knew some Survey Service officers in my time," said Anson. "The process of exploration is slow and tedious. You have to explore 40 or 50 prospects to find even one with a habitable atmosphere, much less intelligent life."

"We have some very promising leads, Mr. Ford," said Terrell. He paused. "I sense your skepticism. To be honest, we would love to have someone of Mr. Odour's reputation on one of our missions. It would be a great public relations boon. So I'm prepared to give you and Miss Dhomes free passage on the USS Yorktown, which is leaving two days hence. You will not only get passage, but training to enable you to be active members of the crew."

"Active members of the crew," said Anson with a gleam in his eye. He turned to Jessica, who nodded. "All right, Captain Terrell. We accept your offer."

********

"Why don't you believe him?" Jessica asked.

"Because nothing about this makes sense at all," said Anson.

"If you think this is a big fraud, why are we wasting our time here?" Jessica asked.

"Because there's a chance, a small chance, that it might not be fake, and we've been searching for months, and so far haven't come up with a single option for Francisco Odour."

"In other words, we're desperate."

"Right," Anson smiled. "Also, even if this is a fraud, it still might contain the germ of a real idea that we could use to help our client," said Anson.

********

Anson's doubts were only magnified two days later when they showed up at Spacefleet Command to head to the Yorktown. First they were given uniforms. Anson was given a gaudy gold shirt, black pants, and tall wrinkled boots. Jessica was given a red miniskirt that was so short you could almost see her vagina, if it weren't for her panties (also in red). She was also given sheer pantyhose and tall black space boots.

"This is how women dress in space?" Anson asked doubtfully.

"I like it," said Jessica, spinning around by a holographic mirror.

They thought they were going to transport to the Yorktown in a shuttle. Instead, they went by energy/matter Conveyor.

"Energy/matter conveyence? Since when did that become possible?" Anson asked Captain Terrell, who had made himself available to answer last minute questions.

"It's another proprietary technology we've recently developed," said Terrell. "We can convert matter into energy and back into matter again, at great distances."

"Have you ever done this... successfully?" Anson asked, staring at the Conveyor pad worriedly.

"Thousands of times, without a single fatality," Terrell assured him.

"No fatalities? But how many injuries or mutilations?"

"Mr. Ford, they're waiting to depart on the Yorktown. Are you going, or not?"

Anson, reluctantly, decided that he was. He and Jessica got on the Conveyor pad.

Terrell said, "Good luck!" He turned to the Conveyor Chief, a man wearing what looked like baggy red pajamas over a black T shirt. "Electronize, Mr. Kyle."

"Aye sir."

Anson saw a shimmering light in front of his eyes... and the room disappeared.

Suddenly, he and Jessica were in a different room. It was another Conveyor room, but shaped differently, and there were different people in the room.

Had it really worked? Suddenly, they were in a different place!

"Welcome aboard," said the man in front of the console. He was handsome, to say the least, with blonde-brown hair, and piercing brown eyes. He was standing with his chest arched out in an alpha male position, his chin up, and his eyes firm. He wore a gold uniform with two solid stripes and one dotted one in between them on his wrist sleeves. This, obviously, was the man in charge.

"My name is Captain Jason K. Tiberius, of the USS Yorktown," said the Captain, welcoming them aboard.

Jessica exhaled.

Captain Tiberius introduced them to his aides. "And this is my First Officer, Mr. Sammock, and my Chief Medical Officer, Julian McCallister."

Doctor McCallister looked like a middle aged man with a lot of experience under his brow. Mr. Sammock was something else entirely. His hair and his narrow eyes said Chinese. But there was something... something different about his ears....

Anson started to introduce himself. "I, ah, am-"

"Anson Ford, and Jessica Dhomes," said Captain Tiberius smoothly. "We've been expecting you." He extended his hand. Anson reached out and shook it. He had a firm grip. Then he turned to Jessica, and gave her a million credit smile. "So nice to meet you, Jessica."

Jessica blushed and tittered. Anson stared. He had never seen her react that way before to anyone.

"There is a getting-to-know-you session underway in the mess hall," said Captain Tiberius. "Everyone else is aboard. You're the last arrivals. Why don't you go there and meet the rest of the crew? Mr. Sammock, would you show our new guests the way?"

"I'd be delighted, Captain," said Sammock. He looked anything but delighted; his tone was cold and calm.

As they walked the corridors of the ship, both Anson and Jessica could see that Mr. Sammock was... different. It was his ears. They were... oval shaped. Not round. Sammock caught them looking at his ears, and his eyebrow lifted.

"Are you from Earth?" Anson asked, as they walked.

"Obviously not," said Sammock. "I am from the planet Valtrex."

"I don't think I've heard of it," said Anson.

"We are a race of beings who was once very much like your own. But we have evolved to reject our warlike, emotional past."

"You have no emotions?"

The eyebrow lifted again. "They are suppressed. We embrace the doctrine of seriousness."

"Seriousness?" Jessica looked at Sammock's impassive face. "But... no love? No humor? No happiness? What must life be like on Valtrex?" Jessica asked.

"Eminently satisfying," said Sammock, arching an eyebrow, as he lead them into the mess hall.

The entire crew was there, along with the newcomers. Sammock introduced them to the rest of the crew. There was Patrick Edinburg, the Chief Engineer. "Call me Paddy. Everyone else does," he said, with a strong Irish accent.

There was Anton Gorsky, the deputy science officer. His accent was Russian. "Verwe nice to meet you. You are verwy welcome to this wessel," he said.

There was Mako Zulu, the Navigator. Despite his name, he was not African, but looked to be either Chinese or Japanese. "Mr. Ford," he said, grabbing Anson's hand. "It's so nice to meet you." Mr. Zulu gave Anson a shit eating grin.

"Yes," said Anson, not sure what to make of Zulu's predatory smile.

Then there was Lieutenant Dinka Uahu, the communications officer. Unlike Zulu, she really was from Africa, but spoke flawless English. Her hair was set up in a big black bun.

And then a man in a red shirt introduce himself. Patrick Jioto, head of security. He was big, and tall, and immediately caught Jessica's eye.

"I once dated a Survey Service officer who looked a little like him," said Jessica, watching Jioto's firm ass as he walked away.

"I sense a story coming. Red alert," said Anson dismissively, nibbling on a green and red food cube.

"This one was special. He was a dashing Lieutenant in the Survey Service Reserve. Very handsome. And a great personality! We hit it off immediately."

"What happened?" Anson asked.

Jessica sighed. "His penis was too small."

"Too small? Not wide enough, or not long enough?"

"Anson, you should know that penis length never matters to a girl. That's so shallow!"

"So it was his penis width?"

"Exactly," said Jessica. She sighed again. "It still could have worked. I asked him to get it enlarged. It would have been a simple procedure. I even offered to pay for it. He refused."

"I'm so sad his penis didn't work out for you," said Anson.

"Well, there's always other torpedoes in the sea," said Jessica, her eyes now landing on Captain Tiberius. He was so handsome!

They met some of the newcomers to the crew. There was a couple named Walter and Janet Moore. Walter was an enormous science fiction fan. He loved all the science fiction holodramas. To Walter, the line between real space exploration and scifi holodramas was a blurred one at best; he fully expected this mission to play out like one of his favorite holoshows, with space battles and wondrous aliens and tremendous discoveries. He was bound to be disappointed.

His wife, Marsha, was a very attractive brunette with all the right curves in all the right places. If Anson were married to her, he would pay more attention to exploring her inner space than any kind of outer space.

The other couple on the trip was an astrophysicist named Leonard King and his wife Janet. Leonard had much more realistic expectations. He hoped to see nebula, stars, and other astral phenomena. Anson guessed Leonard would end up enjoying the trip more than Walter Moore.

And then Anson thought he had met everyone on the crew, when all of a sudden the door swished open, and in came a brown haired beauty dressed in a blue miniskirt every bit as short as Jessica's. Anson spent a whole moment admiring her legs. This was one sexy woman. And then his gaze moved upwards, to her bosom, and then her face.

Oh. My. God.

It was Jennifer.

They saw each other at the exact same moment, and both their faces fell.

She stomped over to him. "No!' She yelled. "No! No! No!" she kept repeating.

"Lower your voice," said Anson. "People are staring."

"Not again, Anson! Not again!" she cried. "Did Judy tell you? Did she tell you I would be here, is that how you found out?"

"I haven't spoken to Judy in weeks," said Anson.

"What are you doing here, Anson? Tell me, please, why are you here?" said Jennifer, sounding genuinely distressed.

"I'm doing research, for a client," said Anson.

"The same research, for the same client?" said Jennifer, disbelief strong in her voice.

"It's true, Miss Spaulding," said Jessica.

"How do you know my name?" Jennifer snapped. "Who are you again? You're the girlfriend, right?"

"No, Jennifer. She's my apprentice," said Anson.

"Your appreeeentice," said Jennifer, stretching out the word sarcastically. "Of course! And tell me, Anson, have you slept with your appreeentice yet?"

Anson started to answer, then stopped.

"How many times, Anson? Five times? Ten times? Twenty? More?" The answer was written on his face. "How many times do you have to sleep with her before she stops being your apprentice and starts being your whore, Anson?"

"Jennifer... you and I are not together anymore," said Anson.

"That's right. Thank you for reminding me! You left me! You left me, Anson, after 311 years! I gave you three of the best centuries of my life, Anson, and you tossed them in the garbage! Do you know what that does to a woman?"

"I'm so sorry-"

"Save it, Anson, I don't want to hear it," said Jennifer. "You followed me here, that much is obvious. But I want you to stay out of my way, do you hear? Stay away from me!"

"Jennifer-"

"Is there a problem here?" said Captain Tiberius, coming forward with a smile.

"Not anymore," said Jennifer, intertwining her arm into his, and letting him lead her away.

Anson could only watch, open-mouthed and horrified.

********

It had been Carl's idea.

Carl was Jennifer's childhood friend, who she had gotten separated from as an adult, and reconnected with a hundred or so years later. He was an actor by training. When Jennifer returned from the Schlong Aus Monastery feeling confused and bewildered, she had poured out her angst to Carl.

He had listened sympathetically. He suggested a change of scenery. Jennifer had snickered at that. She had traveled all over the world ten times over. What could possibly be a change of scenery for her?

And then Carl had told her about Spacefleet Command. Space exploration. Jennifer had never shown the slightest interest in it before. But it was new. It was different. Perhaps it would get her out of her rut. Perhaps it would get her to stop thinking about Anson.

And now Anson had spoiled things. Again. He had enormous resources as a Fixer. He was obviously tracking her, following her. He clearly wanted the best of both worlds--to be free to fuck other women, but also to have her on the side.

Well, he was going to be disappointed. Jennifer resolved to enjoy herself to the maximum, with Captain Tiberius, or any other officer she found attractive. And she would not only ignore Anson, she would actually enjoy it if he became jealous. It would serve him right.

********

Something was very wrong with the USS Yorktown.

Anson couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the more he saw of the ship, the more he became convinced that something wasn't quite right here.

They were given a tour of the ship. They saw engineering. They saw sickbay. They were shown their crew quarters. And then they were taken to the bridge, where they would spend most of their time. Anson looked at the consoles, with their brightly lit buttons, and the bright colors of the displays, and the Captain's command chair, and the whole layout and color scheme, and more and more got the uneasy feeling that something was wrong.

No, not merely wrong.

Familiar.

He had seen this ship before. Or something quite like it. He combed his memory, but couldn't come up with it. With over 330 years of memories, there was a lot that got left behind.

"Take us out of orbit, Mr. Zulu," said Captain Tiberius authoritatively. Ever word, every gesture from this man, dripped of alpha-male status.

"Aye, Captain," said Zulu, speaking with a slight lisp. They felt/heard a hum as the ship accelerated, and the Earth shrank to a tiny dot.

"And now begins your training," said Captain Tiberius. "Each of you will be assigned a crewmember to train under. Once you are reasonably proficient, we will begin our first mission."

"A question, Captain," said Anson.

"Yes?"

"How long will our training take?"

"A few hours, Mr. Ford." He noted Anson's expression. "Is there a problem, Mr. Ford?"

"No, sir," said Anson.

The training began. Anson was assigned to train under Ensign Gorsky. He learned how to use Science Station 2. Despite his deep skepticism, Anson found learning how to use the scanner interesting. There was a blue light display that one looked into, and buttons to the side which could be used to expand or contract the scanner view, as well as other ways to adjust the scanning parameters--by heat, light, EM energy, or a whole host of other options.

But he wasn't too busy to notice Jennifer being trained by Captain Tiberius. Somehow he didn't think it was an accident that Captain Tiberius had chosen Jennifer for his trainee. Anson watched as Tiberius smiled at Jennifer, a smile radiating confidence and sex appeal. Anson watched as Tiberius asked Jennifer to lean over a control panel and then took a step back, looking at her legs, encased in creamy pantyhose, and no doubt admiring her well formed ass as it poked out of her miniskirt.

Anson watched as Tiberius touched her arm, in the pretence of showing her how to use a control, or touched her hand, as if to demonstrate how to press a button. He watched helplessly as Tiberius moved close to her, as if he were mounting her from behind. He saw how Tiberius breathed deeply as he smelled Jennifer's hair. He saw how the Captain looked into her eyes as he explained some aspect of shipboard operations, how whatever he was saying had no meaning, how it was all about his eyes, and his smile, as he tried to drill his stare into hers.

And the worst part was that Jennifer was responding. She smiled shyly as the Captain rained attention down on her. She seemed to be aware of what he was doing, at least on an unconscious level. As he demonstrated shipboard operations to her, she self consciously stroked her own hair, or smoothed down the sides of her tiny skirt, rubbing the outer edges of her pantyhose encrusted thighs, and grinned shyly whenever he made a small joke with her.

Although Anson mostly had eyes for Jennifer, he could see this happening all over the bridge. Dr. Julian McCallister was demonstrating what looked like a whirring pepper shaker to Janet King, holding it over her belly and then saying something witty to her that made her laugh. Lieutenant Uahu was teaching Janet's husband Leonard how to use the comm panel, but Anson noticed that she was doing it by leaning far forward over the console, giving Leonard an unobstructed view of her bright red panties.

Mr. Edinburg, the Chief Engineer who everyone called "Paddy", was showing Marsha Moore the engineering controls on the bridge, but Anson saw his hands gently playing over hers as he said, "Nae, not like that, lass, like this," and he gently moved her hands up and down, over a series of three parallel levers, as if he were teaching her how to caress a penis.

Even the helmsman Mr. Zulu was getting into the acts, giving Marsha's husband Walter very seductive looks, batting his eyelashes and speaking in a very soft tone that forced Walter to lean in close so he could hear what Zulu was saying.

And finally Mr. Jioto, the redshirted security man, didn't have to do much to seduce Jessica. She was totally into him, smiling and laughing as Jioto show her his blaster. Jessica was touching and petting it and telling him how big it was. Maybe Jessica thought his blaster size was a good omen of things to come.