I guess the real reason I signed on the 'Long Haul' was because Captain
Lamont and his crew showed me the first bit of kindness I'd seen in years.
I was ten when my parents died, just old enough to no longer qualify
for child protection. When the old channel tube collapsed, it took away
not only my family, but my only chance of staying on Earth. Under the law,
without a relative to care for me I'd be shipped off to grow up in the
colonies, and even at ten I knew what that meant. I'd lose my citizenship
and without it, Earth would be closed to me forever! It was the government's
way of dealing with Earth's tremendous population pressures. Sure, it kept
the rim expanding, but to me, it didn't seem fair. One minute I was at
school working hard toward a specialty and the next, I didn't know what
would become of me.
Luckily, I did have one living relative, my dad's brother Elwood.
Unluckily, uncle El was an out of work drunk facing the same non-self sufficiency
law I was. I'd only met Elwood once at Grandpa Karl's funeral, but I could
see right away he didn't like kids. I'm sure the only reason he agreed
to take me in was for the insurance settlement, but even that wasn't enough
to save us from the law. As far as the government was concerned either
Uncle El held a job or he was gone! How people ever let Earth get so screwed
up I'll never know, but in one of his soberer moments, El said it had to
do with some old law that for hundred's of years kept every viable zygote
alive, whether anyone wanted the brats or not. Like I said Elwood had little
use for kids.
El spent about half the insurance money to buy a farm on Hayslat
II, then because he could show property ownership there, the government
allowed him to pick a destination when they kicked us out. We arrived
just before my eleventh birthday and found the 'farm' consisted of a few
ramshackle buildings on a rocky chunk of land a good fifty kilometers from
New Devon. New Devon was a 'Far Reach' refit and supply depot and,--- as
we learned,--- the only settlement on the planet. We were on the
extreme outer rim fo the galaxy. There were no families or schools on
Hayslat II and I was years short of an education needed to pick a specialty.
Why Elwood chose that planet was always a mystery to me. Any kind of successful
farming operation requires a fairly large population and on a good day
Hayslat II boasted maybe three thousand people.
Things pretty much went down hill from there. Maybe if it rained,
and uncle El didn't drink like a fish, we could've made a living, but it
didn't, he did, and in a couple of years we were broke. Not only was El
a drunk, he was a mean drunk and I've got the scars to prove it, but at
least he never sold me to Fat Lucy, so maybe in the end he wasn't all
bad.
By the time I was fifteen, he drank up the farm and we were living
in a shanty behind the bar where El worked. He cleaned the 'Blue Goose'
at night for drinks and the use of the shack and I tried to make a little
money doing odd jobs around the place. If it hadn't been for the spacers
thinking up unneeded errands I believed we'd have starved. As it was El
nabbed most of my earnings for booze and lots of times I went hungry. Things
were pretty bad, but they got a whole lot worse after Elwood died.
Call me a wimp if you will, but I was always too scared of El to
ask very many questions and it wasn't until a week after they buried him
I found out the government never sent kids to the rim. Instead, they
were placed in schools on some of the more developed worlds where jobs
were waiting to be filled. There was nothing out here but 'Far Reach' and
without a specialty no chance at all for a decent job. Suddenly, I
realized El must have bribed someone to keep me with him. It was probably
the only way he could stay in control of the insurance money. I never got
along with El, but until that moment I never truely hated him.
Here I was, sixteen years old with no education beyond a few years
of school and what little I'd gleaned from an old encyclopedia chip.
I was broke. Uncle El turned my inheritance into a thousand hangovers,
and now, Fat Lucy was twisting my arm to come to work for her. She even
got Deek the Geek on me. I had nowhere to turn. Then, the 'Long Haul' came
rumbling in for a refit and suddenly I was offered an option I never knew
existed. In some ways that option paralleled Lucy's, but in others,--- in
things that mattered it was a galaxy away.
An hour or so after I heard the ship land, Captain Jack Lamont walked
into the Goose and took a seat at the bar. He was one of the handsomest
men I ever saw,--- tall, green eyed, blond fellow with a warm open smile.
I knew who he was because he wore a jacket with his ship's name, 'The
Long Haul' printed above the pocket and his I.D. tab pinned just below.
He looked at me intently for a second then ordered a beer, but I noticed
he kept watching me as I worked. A few minutes later a freighter crew came
in. I got busy, and when I looked up he was gone, but he left a whole credit
tip under his cup.
After El died, Fred, the owner of the Goose began letting me watch
the bar when he was gone and that day, he was across the street spending
yesterday's take on Lucy's favors. Fat Lucy ran New Devon's only whorehouse
and with customers like Fred she was fast becoming a wealthy woman.
Not only was Lucy fat, she was about as handsome as a baboon's butt. I
often wondered how she could charge so much with so little to offer, but
Fred seemed to like her. In fact, he liked her so much he was nearly broke.
Now Lucy had this crazy idea it would be good for her business if I went
to work for her. She hinted she had a supply of pure Melnik additive, but
even so, why would any spacer pay for something he could get free?
Lucy was all ready a rich old broad, but I guess it galled her to think
about eighty percent of the money in New Devon would never find it's way
to her hands.
Perhaps I'd better explain a little about the outer rim. A lot goes
on here that's not even whispered about back on the inner planets. You
see,--- except for Lucy and her two trollops,--- the entire population of
New Devon is male. We have a few old pensioned off spacers, who, for one
reason or another, enjoy living on the edge of nowhere and of course the
station crew. New Devon was one of the larger 'Far Reach' stations with
almost fifteen hundred guys working here, but again, they were all ex-spacers.
Finally we had a few hundred independents like Fred, who ran the bars, operated
the supply depot, the stores, the cracking plants and generally kept New
Devon running smoothly. The rest were transients,--- short line crews
on layover,--- the 'Far Reach' ships in for refit and of course a few guys
who just hung around waiting for their ships to come back.
'Far Reach' spacers live pretty dangerous lives, but if they survive twenty
years the pension is fabulous. In the mean time they get the best of
everything. Anyone coming in sick or injured off a 'Far Reach' vessel
is sent to the agency hospital on Crozo and if they were there too long
their ships sometimes left without them. Of course, if they wanted
to, they could live for free at the agency quarters on Crozo, but
no one ever did. As soon as they left the hospital they'd come drifting
back to New Devon and just hang around waiting for their ride. Since the
average voyage of a 'Far Reach' ship is somewhere between four and five
years, I got to know several of them fairly well.
Of course, the Rim's biggest secret is the Melnik additive. Oh, not
the additive itself,--- heck, I'd read about it back on Earth when I was
just a kid. No, I'm talking about the side effects. I guess it would
be nearly impossible for a crew to withstand years cooped up together if
it wasn't for the additive. It's been used now for over three hundred
and fifty years with total success.
What the additive does is release certain complex chemicals in the
brain which over a few months time aligns the crew's individual personalities
to mesh like gears in a machine. The net effect is a crew will bond so
strongly they can work together for years without generating animosities,
in fact they stay together as a crew throughout their entire careers and
later spend their retirement together. Some claim Melnik is addictive and
perhaps it is to some extent, but there's no evidence it affects anyone's
judgment or does any physical harm. It works exactly as advertised, but
it has one side effect that will always keep it relegated to the rim. You
see the additive does at least part of its job by changing a person's sexual
orientation. I've seen old agency literature which claimed without the
additive the side effect will fade, but don't you believe it. It's
common knowledge, out here, once exposed you'll remain Melnik oriented for
the rest of your life.
Now you see why I thought Fat Lucy was crazy. I lived on a world
where sex between men was open and freely practiced, so why would anyone
in their right mind pay for the services of a skinny, underfed, sixteen
year old boy? Understand,--- it wasn't the prospect of having sex with
a man that upset me. I'd grown up in New Devon and never thought about it
as anything but a normal fact of life. Hom sex didn't particularly turn
me on, but truthfully, with no other options available I fully expected to
someday meet someone I liked well enough the sex part wouldn't matter. I
had, however, always thought in terms of only one someone,--- not thousands!
I knew 'Far Reach' spacers swapped partners, at least among their
own ship's crew and being young and idealistic that bothered me a bit,
but I still felt that was a lot more wholesome than what Lucy was doing.
At least those men were friends and shipmates who cared about each other
while Lucy only cared about money. To Lucy, sex was the tool that gave
her power over the Het population and she milked it for all it was worth.
She wrongly figured by adding me to her house she could gain the same kind
of influence over the 'Far Reach' spacers. In some ways Lucy was a fool.
I told her, at least a hundred times, no spacer ever made a move on me,
but she wouldn't listen. She had the additive and was convinced it was the
answer to all her dreams of wealth.
Now, it's one thing to freely choose to become a 'Far Reach' spacer
and quite another being Lucy's ten year contract whore. The agency provided
lifetime employment, top wages and crew retirement villas. With Lucy, if
things didn't pan out here, she'd likely send me back with the Geek to finish
out my contract in the streets of Alazar. I'd heard rumors about that place
and it was one planet I had no intention of visiting.
The strangest thing about Lucy was, while she'd do anything for money,
she sometimes acted like a prude. All 'Far Reach' spacers, including
those who now worked at the station, regarded sex as a pleasure to enjoy
when the mood hit them. If it felt right, they did it, and no one
thought anything about it, except Lucy. She'd come back from her evening
walk, stop by the Goose and make nasty little comments about what she saw.
As far as she was concerned sex was immoral and dirty and if she wasn't
making a profit from it, no one should be doing it. If you can figure out
that kind of twisted thinking you're doing better than I ever did. If it
bothered her so much I don't know why she didn't just stay home. After all,
in New Devon, the sight of two guys making out was about as common as seeing
stones on farm.
The Goose lay directly across the street from Lucy's and became a
hang out for the short line freighter crews. They were Lucy's favorite
money makers. Four months in space was nothing when compared to a 'Far Reach'
tour, just long enough to insure a visit or two with Lucy before
heading home. They usually hit the port, the Goose, then Lucy's, in that
order, but for some reason those guys always came in looking more like unwashed
bums than spacers. Maybe because they were Het they were trying to differentiate
themselves from 'Far Reacher's,' but I never could figure out why they
didn't take a bath once in awhile. You can't use up water on a space ship!
No matter how many showers you take or how much laundry you do, you always
end up with the exact amount you started with.
Anyway, about the time the last of the short liner's cleared out
for Lucy's, Captain Lamont returned with his entire crew. They
were clean, courteous, and as good looking a bunch of men as I'd seen
in a long time. They sat around the big table drinking beer and talking
quietly,--- once in awhile they'd glance my way and nod. They all wore the
same blue jackets and I swear, except for the fact they still had their
front teeth, they looked more like a soccer team than anything else. Now,
they weren't all extremely handsome men like Captain Lamont. Actually,
one man's face was badly scarred, probably from a fire, and another
guy I considered downright ugly, but as a group they really did add class
to the old joint. I guess because they dressed so sharp and the fact the
Captain left such a nice tip before, I served them using the antique mugs
Fred kept polished and stacked on the back bar. I knew they were valuable,---
they had the names of old, long forgotten breweries printed on them, like
Millers, Stroh's and A&W, but they were real glass and a lot nicer to
drink from than the flimsy throwaways. The 'Long Haul' crew seemed to appreciate
the gesture and I figured the tip would be well worth any chance I was taking.
Big mistake! Fred surprised me by coming back earlier than usual.
He called me over and was just about to chew me out for using the mugs
when the Geek walked in and plopped his fat ass on a stool beside me. Right
away I knew Lucy cut some sort of deal with Fred because he shut his trap
and slunk off toward the back room. Deek the Geek was Lucy's dimwitted nephew
from Alazar. He'd only been in New Devon for ten days, but was all ready
making my life miserable. He was the kind of guy who turned nice into nasty
just by talking about it and everyone hated his guts.
“Well, Kid,---” the Geek said in his greasy voice, “get your stuff
together, you're moving across the street!”
“Like Hell, I am!”
Jumping up I kicked the stool out from under him, then raced behind
the bar looking for Fred's billy club, but couldn't find it anywhere. In
a second Deek had me. He jerked my arm behind my back, pulling up so hard
something popped. It hurt like hell,--- tears streamed down my face,---
I was moaning in pain and then the bastard shoved me to my knees.
“Since you're down there,” he snickered, “I'll let ya practice on
a REAL man first!” and he unzipped his pants. I told you Deek was a dimwit.
When you live at a 'Far Reach' station you don't go around making comments
like that. He got hit right between the eyes with one of Fred's prized beer
mugs. My arm hurt so bad I couldn't move it. The 'Long Haul' crew picked
me up and carried me to the station doctor then bunked me down in their ship
for the night. Throughout the whole ruckus Fred never stuck his head out
of the back room. I only hope Lucy ends up owning the Goose, it would serve
the bastard right.
The next day I felt a lot better, but was worried sick about what
to do next. Somehow, I had to sneak home and get my stuff, but I knew if
Fred saw me he'd tell Lucy and I'd be right back where I started. I was
thinking about going out to the farm. I didn't own it anymore, but no one
was crazy enough to live there, so I figured I could hide out for awhile
until things settled down. Maybe Lucy would suddenly get smart, or die,
or rich enough to move away and I'd be left in peace. I sat on the edge
of the bunk mulling it over when the door cracked a bit and Captain Lamont
peeked in.
“Ah,--- I see you're awake,” he said as he pushed it wider, “ready
for breakfast?”
We ate at the station restaurant, a place I'd never been before.
All through the meal Captain Jack kept talking about this and that, asking
questions, telling jokes and generally showing more interest in me than
anyone had in years. Among all the banter he also managed to stuff
me so full I could hardly waddle. Later, he gave me a tour of the 'Long
Haul' and introduced the crew, but it was some time before I got all eight
names straight. That day the only one I didn't forget was Wes Portland,
a giant of a man and the one who beaned the Geek. He smiled broadly when
I thanked him, patted my back and then looked concerned when he saw me wince.
My shoulder still hurt like hell, but I'd kept it to myself. After what
those guy's did for me I wouldn't complain if I'd been on fire.
Right away they rushed me back to the medic for another look and
sure enough, the Geek managed to tear something loose. The doctor gave
me a sling and some pain killers. He told me to rest and come back to see
him in a week.
It didn't seem to matter, I was still stuffed from breakfast, the
guys insisted it was now time for something called 'brunch', so off we went
to get some fresh hot rolls and juice. With all the attention Jack and
his crew showered on me that day I got pretty mellow and began babbling
about everything. Over the next hour or so I spilled my guts. Right after
lunch, the whole crew accompanied me to the shack behind the Goose. They
wanted to make sure I got my things without any interference from Fred
or the Geek. While it was a nice gesture, it turned out to be a waste
of time. Everything I owned was gone. Whoever stripped the place did a
thorough job. They even found the fifty credits I'd squirreled away. That
tore it! I might have gotten along without the extra clothing, but without
the money, the farm was out of the question. My disappointment must have
shown clearly because Captain Jack said,
“Don't worry, Kale. You'll get your things back. We'll be dirt side
for at least two months so you'll stay with us for awhile. We'll even help
you get set up at the farm,” he added reassuringly, “if that's what you
really want.”
For the next couple of days we hung around the station, talking,
eating and waiting for my shoulder to heal. I don't know who paid for
all the food I gobbled up, but the bill must have been enormous, I was
gaining weight! The great thing about being at the station was the fact
I was surrounded by spacers. No independents or short line crew's came
there to carry tales back to Lucy. 'Far Reach' Spacers stick together and
word was passed throughout the whole complex I shouldn't be mentioned at
all.
During that time the talk centered mostly around the 'Far Reach'
agency. A lot of it was stuff I all ready knew, but some things really
startled me. For instance, I assumed all 'Far Reach' spacers came from
the agency school, but it wasn't true. The actual requirements for the
job consisted of nothing more than passing a few tests. If the candidate
could find a crew willing to sponsor him for some specific berth, the
agency would put him on the payroll. The guys mentioned it several times,
and I began to get the idea they were trying to tell me something important.
Finally out of curiosity I quizzed Wes on how one went about taking the
tests and he laughed, “My God, Kale, we thought you were never going to
ask!”
It turned out that was exactly what one had to do,--- ask. It had
to be a free and voluntary decision on my part, but after I found the 'Long
Haul' willing to sponsor me, my decision took all of ten seconds. Once
I'd signed something called a 'Writ of Intent,' Captain Jack got
the ball rolling. He booked passage for me, himself, Wes, and Terry Worship
on a short line freighter, and the next day with my arm still in a sling,
we headed for Crozo for the actual testing. On the way the guys let me
in on a little secret. Evidently I did have friends in New Devon. Several
people recommended me when they found Jack was searching for someone without
a specialty.
All through the trip to Crozo I kept worrying about the tests. Now
that I had a chance to leave New Devon, I couldn't bear the thought going
back and I made up my mind if I failed, I'd stay on Crozo even if it meant
hiding out. The guys sensed my doubts and tried to cheer me up.
“You've nothing to worry about, Kale. You'll pass!” Wes told me emphatically.
Both Jack and Terry said the same thing. Then Jack took it up. “Kale,
we wouldn't be here at all if we weren't ninety-nine percent sure. Do you
think we'd do this for a joke?”
“No, of course not,” I replied, “but, you said yourself only one
in a thousand unschooled candidates make the cut and I'm about as unschooled
as they come.”
He shook his head and laughed,
“The agency school is little more than two years of psychological
preconditioning for the additive. You've grown up on the rim and don't
need that. As for the rest, the station doctor all ready told me you'd pass
the physical. He says you're a little skinny, but healthy as a horse. When
I notified the agency I located a candidate they did a background check on
you, and guess what? Your early testing on Earth indicated superior intelligence.
That leaves just one thing and from what any of us can see, you're a shoe
in.”
I knew what he meant, and it's funny; but, I had never given that
part of the test a thought. It set me off again. Technically, I was still
a virgin, if you didn't count a little self abuse. I always tool it
for granted I was Het because the thing that turned me on were the love
stories I'd read, and the images of girls. Yet, the more I thought about
it the less sure I was. I knew for certain I didn't like Lucy so maybe
that meant I was Hom or Bi,--- and if that were the case the agency wouldn't
accept me. The spacers have a saying; “Melnik won't take you Hom unless
you come from Het.” For the rest of the trip I worried more about that than
anything else.
On Crozo I learned that old saying was only partially true. It has
more to do with brain structure than orientation and while I didn't fully
understand all they told me, it seems that some males are born with a
slightly different brain structure than others. I was told that most Bi's
would pass the test as could many Hom's, but a true Het would always pass
that part without exception.
Two weeks later I was back on Hayslat II sporting a fancy new 'Long
Haul' jacket. My arm felt great and the headache was nearly gone. Most
of all, I was proudest of the little scar on my forehead, not the one
Uncle El gave me, but the brand new pink one! At last I had a specialty!
The whole crew came out to meet us. Jack put his arm across my shoulders
and said,
“Okay, Gang, let me introduce you to the newest member of the 'Long
Haul' team, Kale Goodenough.”
Someone,--- I think it was Andy Bridger, said, suggestively, “That
remains to be seen, don't it, Jack?” He got a laugh, but I got
a bigger one when I retorted, “Well,--- it won't be seen for awhile!”
They hosted a little initiation party in my honor complete with gag
gifts, one of which was an inflatable female doll wearing nothing but a
banner that said, 'Poor Lonesome Me.' I guess I got as big a kick out of
the party as the guys did in giving it, but they saved the very best for
last. Tom Price stepped out a minute then came back lugging a big box with
all my stuff in it. On top lay my money, but instead of fifty credits, there
was nearly five hundred. Surprised, I looked at Tom and he grinned, his
scarred face pulling up into a grimace,
“It seems to have earned a bit of interest, Son.” he said warmly.
Kent finally told us about it. Evidently when the Geek woke up, the
first thing he did was steal my stuff, then went looking for me. Like I
said,--- Fred stayed in the back room throughout the entire incident so
he didn't know I'd left with the crew. Since no one else would talk to
the Geek it was several days before he figured out where I'd gone and by
that time we were on our way to Crozo. Still half convinced Fred was holding
out on him, Deek began raising hell at the Goose. He'd come around every
little while to rant and rave and managed to drive away most of the customers,
except for Pete and Abel, a couple of retirees, both, nice old guys whom
I'd known for several years. They overheard Deek tell Fred,
“If the little cocksucker comes looking for his stuff, tell him Lucy
has it nice and safe, over at his new digs.”
Pete and Able were thoroughly fed up with Deek anyhow, they called
the ship, some of their friends, and Lucy got her first contingent
of 'Far Reach' spacers ever to cross her threshold. They mopped up the
floor with the Geek, scared the hell out of Lucy, and then made her pay
for the privilege of it all. After we'd quit laughing, Rance finished up
the story by saying the Geek was gone. He left for parts unknown and Lucy
was now a lot more civil toward everyone, especially 'Far Reach' spacers.
From the time of the party, until we left port six weeks later, I
lived and ate my meals aboard the 'Long Haul.' The crew of course, continued
eating at the station, but I was not allowed outside the ship, nor could
I see or speak to anyone other than the crew. Kent explained,--- while it
took several months for the additive to do all that it would do to me, integration
started at once and it sometimes occurred quite rapidly. If I were to suddenly
be 'enthralled,' ( his word) while in the presence of someone not part of
my future family,--- it could leave me hopelessly confused.
I know this may sound silly considering my decision was all ready
set in stone, but I was truly nervous at first. I kept asking myself; would
I miss what I never knew? Would I someday regret not being a parent?
They were moot questions, at best, considering what Lucy planned for me,
but I couldn't help wondering what other spacers thought at this point
in their lives. Was I the only one who ever felt like running away?
I worked at it for a couple of days, forgoing both food and water until
the answer rose through the chaff of doubt with blinding clarity. I knew
from the very beginning 'Far Reach' was my only hope. It was the kindness
of everyone, especially the long hours Wes spent with me that put my fears
to rest. I figured in forty years I might be able answer my own questions,
but for now this ship and these men were the best thing that ever happened
to me.
The crew had only been together ten months and like any group fresh
out of school, the guys had been riding the rim while going through integration.
All ships did this while waiting for their first assignment, but, unlike
countless others, the 'Long Haul' knew exactly what their assignment would
be. They were all volunteers for a trip that might last ten years or more
and the agency selected only the very best. Although no one in the
crew was older than twenty-one, each had a depth of knowledge that left
me awestruck. I kept thinking if I'd only had the chance to finish school,
I ,too, could know all that.
Our assignment was to investigate a possible alien civilization,
at least that's what the agency thought. For the past fifty years, 'Far
Reach' had been studying an anomaly further out than any of the ships could
travel. At their furthest extent, 'Far Reach' ships would sometimes encounter
a sudden pulse of light, a wave, sweeping through space at an angle that
left it undetectable from the current rim. Over the years, ships recorded
hundreds of pulses, but it was only in the last couple of decades 'Far Reach'
discovered these waves were filled with information.
Finally they found a method of pulling the, seemingly, solid mass
of noise into a linearity comprehensible to the agency's computers. Among
other things, the data stream appeared to contain language elements. No
one truly understood it, but they had enough points of reference to attempt
the fusion between a newly designed specialty implant and a radically different
computer. With years of study and continuous computer linkage, the specialist
would eventually gain an understanding of the data. It would be less than
total immersion, but nonetheless, very similar to the way a baby learns
a language.
They named the new specialty 'Xenoglossolaligist'* and then went
searching for a candidate. It had to be someone without a specialty, of
course, and someone who was psychologically capable of bonding with a
crew. The logical place to look was the agency schools, but they found
no volunteers for the berth. The project was risky at best and no one was
willing to saddled themselves with a specialty that might destroy their
career, or worse. I guess I was in the right place at the right time
because 'Far Reach' was about to send the ship off without anyone to fill
the vacancy. They couldn't delay any longer. The waves were increasing
in number, and they had to know whether humanity faced a potential enemy
or not.
I was told all this on Crozo, and more. I also knew my specialty
might turn out to be worthless, and if that were the case, I'd be stuck
with it for the rest of my life. You can't change a specialty once it's
implanted and this particular field was literally a shot in the dark.
I knew all that; yet, I still said 'yes.' 'Far Reach' assured me no matter
what, I would always have a place with them and I knew from listening to
the spacers in New Devon the agency never abandoned its people.
So, there I was, two months after the Geek mauled me, on a ship heading
into the black reach. I had friends, an income drawing interest like
crazy, a specialty connected to a computer so radically different all
it could do was teach me about itself for the first six months. Then I
had five years or more to prepare for the first human contact with an
alien intelligence. I was scared to death. I kept imagining I'd wake up
one morning and find it all a dream.
Life aboard the 'Long Haul' was far better than anything I could
remember. I spent the required eight hours a day with the implant turned
full on and while it went about opening new pathways in my brain, I was
filling them up by reading from the case of chips in my cabin. It
would be six months before we reached 'Far Reach One,' the unmanned station
the guys called Parvo, and for that six months I'd have to use my implant
just as everyone else used theirs. That meant reading reams of data all
concerning the computer itself. After that, if all went well the computer
would shift to direct link and I'd be freed from the reading, but never
again completely free from the computer.
I shared a cabin with Wes and Terry which lay directly across from
the shower room. Terry said it was the most convenient cabin on the ship,
but he never explained whether he meant convenient to the shower itself
or to the games that went on in there. For an hour each morning the shower
room took on the aspect of an evening stroll in New Devon, only more so.
Not that it bothered me,--- back in New Devon, I'd seen it all a thousand
times, but I was still somewhat shy and if the activity in there got me
the least bit aroused, I'd quickly shower and leave.
Wes and Terry were navigational specialists who maintained the arcane
equipment which guided the 'Long Haul,' but it was Geer Ross who was the
actual Navigator. Kent Ledge, the medical specialist and dietitian was,
also, by his own choice, our fitness coach. On a voyage that takes years
to complete, his was an important job in itself and Kent was very conscientious.
So much so, it was sometimes hard to figure out whether he was trying
to build me up or kill me. Kent was adept at several forms of self
defense, as were Tom Price and Andy Bridger and I loved watching them go
through their exercises. Tom and Andy were the ship's maintenance and defense
specialists but they could also help Rance Deems and Bill Grider in propulsion
if needed. It seemed nearly everyone aboard had at least two jobs and those
of us who didn't spent a few hours each day keeping the ship tidy,--- even
Captain Jack. By that time, Captain Jack was merely 'Jack.' There
was no formality aboard ship, but the ultimate authority, of course, lay
with Jack. His word was law; although, he never spoke it very loudly.
The ship went through so many changes at New Devon I was not the
only one putting in marathon sessions with a computer. A specialist implant
will help you learn, remember and correlate data amazingly fast, but you
still must read the information and that was exhausting. We worked off our
mental fatigue in the gym and it was there Kent started teaching me something
he called 'Karate,' an old discipline from Earth. It was new to me,
so after my first lesson I dug out my old encyclopedia chip and looked it
up. I was amazed to learn just how old Karate was. It went back hundreds
of years. I then looked up related subjects and found there were dozens
of similar disciplines, all slightly different in form and based on varying
philosophies,--- some of them even older than Karate. There was screen after
screen of information and hundreds of cross references just on this one subject,
alone,--- and all of it absolutely new to me.
Suddenly I felt ashamed. I think for the first time in my life I
realized just how ignorant I was. I blamed El for bringing me to a place
with no schools, but whose fault was it I never heard of Karate? It was
right there in my encyclopedia. The chip was given to me seven years ago
and contained a good portion of all human knowledge; yet, I had always
used it as a toy. I scanned some Greek mythology, learned how to fold
paper into intriguing shapes, read half the novels on the chip and looked
at the pictures, but never once did I use the study guides listed on the
menu.
I popped the chip out of the viewer and looked at it and for the
first time saw it for what it really was. A twenty level education
I could hold in the palm of my hand. For days afterward I skulked about
too ashamed to look anyone in the eye,--- but it taught me a great lesson
not available on the chip,--- the knowledge was there all along, a wonderful
source, like a great pool of purest water, an oasis in an arid land of
stupidity, only waiting for me to drink my fill. From that point
on I used my encyclopedia as it was intended and studied from it every
day.
A few weeks out from of New Devon, Kent began preparing me for the
change.
“First, comes your integration with the crew.” he said, “It's a process
that can either be sudden or take some months to complete, but when
it starts happening, you'll know. It's the enthrallment I mentioned.”
Then he told me a little of what was actually going on inside,--- what
the additive was doing to me at that very moment, though I couldn't feel
it. I was going through an irreversible change. My brain was manufacturing
new and unfamiliar chemicals that not only enabled integration but culminated
in a basic sexual reorientation.
“A group of brain cells slowly change, one by one, until a certain
balance is reached. Reorientation normally takes longer than integration
and it sometimes can be quite a harrowing experience. Jack had a difficult
passage, while I, for instance, barely noticed the symptoms. Usually a
person will experience a mild euphoria, followed by a few days of depression
and anxiety and after that a true sexual awakening,--- an excitement that
can last up to a week. Normally, a crew spends their first few months
together safely riding the rim, just coasting while the changes
take place, but since the rest of us have all ready bonded. We can help
you through it as we travel on to Parvo.”
Suddenly I was filled with doubt. “But, Kent, if you've all bonded,
won't I always be an outsider?”
He laughed, “Absolutely not. The additive works in several
ways, but it's most potent aspect is it's ability to integrate, especially
if you've been through a past bonding experience. Because of that
we must all go off the additive for three full months before reaching port,---
and don't start using it again until we leave. Believe me, the crew will
bond to you, Kale, long before it's mutual." Kent paused for a moment,
then as if to make sure he had my full attention, he took hold of my hands,
and said,
“That's the mechanics of it. Now, let me tell you what will happen.
You are about to join with a group of men who will become the truest family
you can ever know. The thing we call bonding, is really love, not just sexual
love; although, that's an expression of it, but a genuine caring and concern
for one another. However, just because this love begins as a byproduct
of a drug doesn't make it any less real. Actually, we should be thankful
to Dr. Melnik because the additive hard wires these emotions into our very
being. It's a love that won't desert you nor fade for as long as you live
and is the one constant in life you can depend on. Why do you suppose an
injured crew member will wait around for years to rejoin his ship? It's
his family he's waiting for.” He put an arm around me. “Don't be afraid.
Have no fear,--- in a few more weeks you'll understand.”
I didn't tell Kent I all ready loved every one of them, albeit like
brothers, nor did I tell him had anyone asked I would've been a willing
sex partner. I'd made that commitment to my myself when I signed aboard
the 'Long Haul,' but they were all, much too ethical to ask me to join
in something I wasn't ready for. How could I not care about people like
that? Over the next few weeks I began noticing the changes Kent told me
about. I'd catch myself standing and watching someone as though trying to
absorb the very essence of his being, every tiny detail became vastly important
and I couldn't take my eyes away. This went on for several weeks and many
times I found myself being scrutinized in the very same way, especially
by Wes.
As large as he was, Wes had a gentleness about him that belied his
strength and ever since he'd beaned the Geek I felt a special affinity
for him. After the evening meal the crew got together in the lounge
for a few hours of relaxation. Not that ship board life was so demanding,
but those hours were filled with a ritual that went back to our primate
beginnings. In apes it's called grooming, in humans it takes many forms.
A quiet card game, the simple sharing of a snack, or in my case lying
curled up on a couch next to Wes. He might be talking to someone else,
but before long his hand would drift my way and start playing with my hair.
His touch invariably brought with it a warm drowsiness that left me sleepily
watching the others through half closed eyes. Those hours were pure bliss.
Never in my life had I experienced anything more relaxing than our evenings
in the ship's lounge.
Some time later Kent ask me how I was feeling and then went further
into the effects of the additive.
“You know, Kale, about four million hours of laboratory work
went into the development of the Melnik additive. The earliest drugs
used didn't attempt to change one's sexual orientation. They were meant
only to keep a crew calm enough to work together. The problem was on most
extended tours, crew members became sexually involved anyway. It was the
drugs, of course, and those long lonely years together, but those early
voyages left many people emotionally disturbed. When the drugs wore
off the crew drifted apart and some couldn't face what happened to them,
or perhaps couldn't face the separation. Whatever the reason, at one time
more spacers were lost to suicide than any other cause.” I never
heard that before but the history of the additive proved to be fascinating.
Kent went on to tell me they originally wanted mixed crews, but for
the last four hundred years the law forbid sterilization or birth control
for either sex, so either was out of the question. Crews made up of natural
Hom's seemed to have the best success rate, but were difficult to recruit,
so 'Far Reach' hired Dr. Sharon Melnik. Melnik was an expert in the field
of human sexuality as well as a pharmacologist of great renown. She developed
drugs that allowed bisexuals to select only one pole of their sexuality
and not be haunted by the other. Her drugs made her rich and famous,
but she accepted the agency's offer for the challenge it involved. Melnik
immediately determined the only way a ship's company could function properly
for years at a time was through a total emotional integration at the most
basic level. They would need to love one another completely, without
reservation and for the sake of their sanity, the emotional attachment must
be permanent.
Over the years Far Reach gathered test results from thousands of
different drugs. Dr. Melnik selected the most promising,
then based on her knowledge, made further changes to them. She added one
of her own patented drugs and came up with the additive. Kent made it
sound simple until he told me it took her nearly twenty years of grueling
research.
“One of the things Melnik added to her formula,” he concluded,
“is something every ship bound spacer is thankful for. During the
time you ingest the additive you are endowed with a dramatically increased
sexual desire as well as prodigious stamina and potency. You will learn,
Kale, space travel is either deadly boring or deadly dangerous, but on
most trips boring wins hands down. Sex can use up a lot of time and time
is what we'll have plenty of these next ten years. You've probably all
ready noticed the crew is much more active here than back at New Devon.
That's Dr. Melnik's little kicker!”
I noticed Wes and Terry seemed a lot friskier than before, but after
Kent mentioned it I realized everyone was,--- including myself.
The activity in the shower room sometimes reached an intensity that sent
me scuttling back to my bunk to find my pictures. I think I was a
little jealous of the men's totally free and unselfconscious enjoyment
of one another,--- my bunk seemed such a cold and lonely place, my pictures
so remote, compared to the vitality across the hall.
One morning, not long after my discussion with Kent, Wes walked in
and caught me in the act. I don't know why I felt embarrassed, but I
did,--- I even tried to hide it. Wes sat down on the edge of the bunk
and picked up one of my holographs.
“She's very pretty,” he said, “but, I saved one you might like even
better.” He reached over to the drawer under his bunk and after a moment's
rummaging extracted an old two dimensional picture of a girl so beautiful
it took my breath away.
“You see, Kale, we've all been where you are now. It's nothing to
be ashamed of and you don't have to hide.” He chuckled as he told me about
his and the crews reorientation, “For several months, this picture hung
in the shower and believe me, at first we spent a lot of quality time
with 'Marilyn.' Naturally, a crew won't all go through the change at the
same instant. In our case it was about forty-five days between the first,---
Bill, --- and the last,--- Andy. You all ready know the additive makes
you so horny you can hardly stand it, so if you feel like masturbating,
go right ahead and do it in the shower. We certainly did. Not only did
we masturbate together, we did it for each other and I can tell you from
experience it's a lot more enjoyable than doing it alone.”
He picked up the picture and said, “Come along, Kale, I think it's
time we put Marilyn back to work!” He was right. It was more fun in the
shower room and I soon found it as enjoyable bringing Wes to climax as
it was having him do it for me. I liked it so much I thought the change
had all ready taken place, but Wes just laughed. “Not yet, my fine lusty
lad. You've just discovered your new endless sex drive. Notice something?
You don't need the picture any more!” He was right, I hadn't looked at it
in days. Wes turned me around and we stood watching the other men.
“You don't have to be Hom to like some things.” he said, “Half of
what goes on in here, Het men have experienced since the dawn of time.
Kale, the truth is Bi is a natural primitive state in humans. Put
twenty or so average guys together with no chance of ever rejoining Het
society and you'll soon find them providing sexual relief for each other.
It's a fact of life.”
As if on cue, Jack walked in and within seconds he was with
Terry, his arms around the man's waist pulling him close, trying to engulf
his hugeness. Terry had perhaps the biggest piece of equipment I ever
saw and the thought of eventually being invaded by it always frightened
me a bit, but Jack was having no trouble whatsoever. Terry leaned back
into the spray, his hands running through Jack's hair while a smile of
pure contentment played across his lips. The sight of them brought me
back to hard rigidity.
“Now, that looks like real fun.” Wes said thickly as he grasped
my hardness and slowly lowered himself in front of me. When I didn't protest,
he slid his warm mouth over me and began running his tongue over the
most sensitive parts. I almost cried out from the sheer intensity of the
feeling. His hand cupped beneath, fingers gently probing and he began sliding
me in and out his mouth, thrusting with his wonderful tongue on each downward
stroke. Unlike Terry, I had no time to lay back and enjoy it. I came in
seconds and with a flood unlike anything I ever experienced from mere masturbation.
It poured forth, one sweet clenching jolt after another and I heard Wes
moan in delight as he tried to keep up with me.
It was an awesome feeling that left me shaking, my legs like rubber.
I had to set down on the nearest bench. More than anything else
I was stunned by the knowledge Wes loved it at least as much as me and
that thought began making me hard again. Kent mentioned the additive produced
an increased potency, but I never imagined anything like this. In seconds
I was feeling a renewed urgency that nearly overwhelmed me. Wes sat beside
me for a moment, then he pulled us down into a reclining position, my
head cradled on his arm. Rolling on his side he brought his huge throbbing
member hard against my belly. I began playing with it picking up the rhythm
he'd shown me and in a minute or so he, too, came. It gushed out warm across
my body in a deluge that covered my chest, but instead of wiping it away
as I'd done so many time with my own, I let it stay,--- reveling in the
warm, silky feel of it.
Wes wasted no time. In a flash he again had me in his mouth and began
his same sweet torment, only this time he let it built by increments,
resting a bit if he felt me about to come. I lasted only minutes longer,
but when I came it was with almost the same flood as before and with
an even greater intensity of feeling. Again Wes moaned in ecstasy
as time after time I clenched forth. I recognized then, half the
pleasure in sex was the giving of pleasure to someone else, but I couldn't
do for Wes what he'd done for me. I loved it, I wanted more, but I had
to tell him.
“Why, Kale, I didn't expect you to, and neither will anyone else,---
until you're ready. You will never be forced nor made to feel guilty.
Bill went through his change a good month before any of us and we all
felt the same as you. We loved what he did, but we just couldn't reciprocate.”
That particular morning it didn't matter anyway because our corner of
the shower room suddenly got crowded.
“We saw you two making out over here.” Bill growled in a voice straight
out of an ancient sea tale, “Keeping young Kale all to yourself, are ye,'
matey? Well,--- it don't work that way and you know what the penalty is!”
Wes was laughing so hard I doubt he could've stood up,--- which made
little difference anyway because by then they had him on the floor. Bill
and Tom held Wes spread-eagled while Jack and the others began doing some
very erotic things to him. It was a rape game the guys were playing, and
from what I could see the rapee loved it.
Terry sat down beside me, ran a finger across my chest and tasted
it. “Yep, that's Wes all right!” As if there was any doubt about it, “Can't
leave any evidence, you know,” He chuckled as he began sliding his
hands over my chest and body thoroughly coating me with the silkiness. His
hands slid down to grasp me for a moment, coating my dick as well before
taking me in his mouth. Again that wonderful feeling of being engulfed
in a warm and violently active place. Terry stretched out along side me,
his huge, hard member squarely in my face. I pulled back a bit to get a better
look at it, then began to play around trying different strokes until I
found one he seemed to like. He began a slow movement with his hips, in
and out, at a half beat to my stroke, and when I came so did he. Again there
seemed little if any diminishment in my flood and I heard Terry making
the same little pleasure sounds that now came from Jack and Wes. Terry
replaced Wes' silkiness with his own and I lay there nicely drenched, waiting
for the next diner.
Twice more it happened, in less than twenty minutes. First stocky,
muscular Bill then dark, lean and potent Andy. For me, both held
nearly the same intensity as the first. It convinced me 'Far Reach' was
prudent in limiting shower time to an hour. Quite honestly, I could've
stayed in there forever. Finally when the ten minute warning sounded,
we actually got around to showering, then went to eat a huge breakfast.
Suddenly I was included in the constant touching, petting and teasing that
went on aboard ship and I no longer felt like an observer. After that day,
I usually slept with Wes, though quite often I'd find myself with someone
else but no matter where I slept, it was always with a huge supply of towels
A short time later my change started and I found Kent had been the
master of understatement. The 'mild euphoria,' was more like a three
day drunk and the depression that followed left me a mindless wreak. Kent
later told me my anxiety was much deeper than it would've been had I grown
up surrounded by people who loved me. I never learned to trust anyone
but myself and the additive left me totally defenseless. He was
probably right, but it was the worst thing I've ever experienced in my
entire life.
I couldn't stand being alone. Someone had to be with me every minute
and still I wept for hours on end. Worst of all were the night horrors.
Whenever I closed my eyes, strange dreams swept over me, terrifying nightmares
with no form or shape I could grasp; yet, they left me petrified.
I didn't sleep soundly for days. I'd lay wrapped in someone's arms, trying
to stay awake, but invariably I'd doze and go spinning down into a nightmare.
How they ever put up with me is a mystery, but for an entire week the
guys took turns caring for me and never once let me face my terrors alone.
No one,--- not one of the men every made me feel bad for my condition nor
were they ever, once, impatient with me.
Wes was with me the night the horrors finally stopped. I crawled
up out of my latest nightmare and lay there next to him, shivering, cold
as ice. Wes bundled me in a warm blanket, held me close, reassuring me,
whispering I was safe, when something remarkable happened. How one can
go from stark terror to sexual excitement in the blink of an eye is something
only a psychologist can explain, but suddenly, terror no longer ruled
me. Instead I became intensely aware of just how good Wes smelled
and of the smooth texture of his skin. Electricity shot through me leaving
me tingling all over! Instantly Wes sensed the change and pulled
me even closer and for the next few minutes I just lay there listening
to the beat of his heart.
For a night that started out so badly it proved to be a memorable
one. I will always remember his gentle kisses that night, his sweet tenderness
as I slid down to discover what he all ready knew. The taste of him,
that great and nearly endless flood and the warmth and wonder of it all.
Kent also badly underestimated my sexual awakening. For ten days I was
insatiable and became an absolute terror in the shower. It's a wonder I
didn't drown in there! No one was safe from me,--- whether on duty or not.
I followed them around demanding satisfaction and totally disrupted the
ship's routine.
For the entire time I was little more than a naked wraith, drifting
about the ship, nearly raping everyone I met. I needed, yearned, demanded
to be the filling in a human sandwich with hard bodies pressed against
me fore and aft and I always seemed to get my way. My family took it all
in stride, but later, kidded me about it. They said if it hadn't been for
Dr. Melnik's little kicker, they wouldn't have survived.
For centuries human kind has written songs, stories and poems about
love, but most speak of loving only one person so how do I describe being
equally in love with eight? I loved each for himself, alone, as a
lover and as a part of my family. All have taken on a special virtue that's
hard to explain. Strangely enough, after going through the change, the
first thing I noticed was body odor. Always before, if I was aware it at
all, it was because it exuded from the unwashed short line crews. Now, I
know everyone has a distinctive smell. I can pick up an article of clothing
and know exactly who it belongs to from the delightful scent it holds and
the way his smell arouses me. Somewhere along this odyssey of discovery individual
defects disappeared; instead, I see only perfection when I look upon these
men. How could I have ever thought Rance ugly? His every move, even the
way he holds his head while concentrating on some task is sheer poetry to
watch. Tom's virtues, for instance, includes the scars on his face and arms.
I love sliding my fingers over his old injury,--- the texture is so excitingly
different. Now, I can no longer visualize him without his marks, nor would
I wish them gone. To me, both are as handsome as Jack, as are all the members
of my family.
Will we always feel this way about each other, will there always
be this tug of sexual excitement among us? Kent say's yes,--- both will
last as long as life and I'm sure he's right. Back in New Devon,
I'd seen it myself without really knowing it. It was all around
me there; in the men on the park benches; in those waiting for their ships
to return, and in Pete and Able the two old retirees, the last of their
crew, living on only for each other. At the time, I never realize the fullness
of their lives, nor could I see the beauty.
It didn't take me forty years to learn if I made the right decision.
I knew the answer well before reaching Parvo. 'Far Reach' became almost
a religion to me, especially the code all 'Far Reach' spacers exalt in,
honor and live by. It's such a simple thing, it can be expressed in two
little words; family first. My family is the crew of the 'Long Haul,'
but there is no denying all of 'Far Reach,' from the retirees to
those at the farthest flung outpost are part of the family as well.
We don't really know how long this voyage will last, or if all or any of
us will return. Since we can't see the future, we strive in every way to
make our loved ones as safe as possible in the present. It's the reason we
work so doggedly, leaving nothing to chance, allowing no errors to creep
in. It's for love we've become our own slave drivers.
While at Parvo we held a ceremony, each speaking a vow as we held
hands. It filled me with joy. I don't know where the pledge originated,
somewhere in Earth's ancient past most likely, but those five little words
are more important to me than any declaration ever made.
“--- until death do us part.”
And so it shall be,--- Ah-men.
* Xenoglossolaligist
= from the Greek 'xeno' meaning alien, and 'glossolialia' meaning
tongue.