"I'm sorry that didn't go so well," Specialist McComb apologized, "I knew there would be issues as soon as I saw the computer generated service call."
"Did I bust it?" Junior had worried since the computer had shut itself off.
"No," McComb said, "It shut off the interface as a security measure. I re-calibrated it and put your information in the database. After I bring the interface back online it should work normally."
He started the restart sequence as Junior explored the cabin. It was larger than The Rusty Tankard and incredibly clean. There was a bed on one side and a desk sitting below the long window on the other. Between the window and the door to the hallway was a bathroom. Junior wandered around it and noticed that the shower had no drain. While he could think of easier pranks to play on the "hick" from EcoHope 11, he had to admire the trouble someone had gone to.
He stepped out and mentioned it to McComb, partly to see if McComb was responsible, but mostly as a lead in question to the question of how to get that fixed.
McComb stared at him for a second, unsure of how to respond.
"It isn't a water shower, Sir," seemed to be what he eventually settled on.
Junior nodded, but didn't speak.
"For long distance space vessels, water is too heavy and difficult to purify to waste on hygiene. All personal cleaning is done by nanite. Step in and press the button," McComb gestured at the clear plastic box with no drain, "The same nanites are used to clean laundry, so there is no need to disrobe."
He nodded reassuringly, and gestured again.
Junior, still mostly certain he was about to be the victim of a practical joke of historic proportions, stepped into the box and pulled the door closed behind him.
"Just press the button," McComb called, "Or, if you'd rather, address the computer and tell it to turn on the shower."
McComb stepped back out into the main cabin again, preoccupied with something on his data terminal.
Junior had no intention of addressing the computer again, especially so soon after his last experience, so he just pressed the button.
At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then, he was suddenly surrounded by a dark cloud of something which seemed to cling to his clothes and hair. While junior found that he could breathe, he definitely didn't want to until the cloud dissipated. Still, it clung and swirled about him. The faster he moved to get out of the way, the more intensely it seemed to grasp at him.
Finally, the cloud spun into a tight vortex and spiraled up and out a tiny hole in the top of the box.
Junior pushed open the door and tumbled onto the bathroom floor, inhaling deeply.
He heard McComb call out, "Sir, is everything alright?"
"Fine. I'm fine," Junior replied, getting up slowly, "What the hell was that?"
"Nanites," McComb answered, "Tiny robots that carry dirt and dead skin away from a person. It isn't as satisfying as a hot water shower, but it is more effective."
"Nanites," Junior repeated, making a mental note to ask Dank later.
"I've had the computer request a uniform in your size and rank," McComb patted a dark bundle on the bed, "I suggest you wear it. I'll be running safety checks on the shuttle for the next fifteen minutes. I can take you back down to Impact after that. Just meet me in the hangar."
"Thanks, McComb," Junior unfolded his new clothes, "How do I find the hangar?"
As the door closed behind him, McComb replied, "Just ask the computer."
Chapter Twenty Eight Interlude
File: Datanet Core Server Gamma Alpha ninety six, Galactic Technologies, Era: Modern -0, Index Earth Prime Protection Force, Computing, Data Supplied by Datanet Tech Officer's Manual
Your shipboard Datanet connected computerized assistants can save time and ensure that strict Earth Prime Protection Force procedures are followed to the letter, for the good of the Faithful.
The artificial intelligence is programmed to comply with the literal commands of the user. This helps to maintain a professional working environment aboard BSU vessels for the safety and financial responsibility of the crew and other Faithful citizens.
Junior didn't want to risk offending the computer again, so he pulled on his uniform (which was more comfortable than it looked) and opened the door to his quarters and turned left.
He knew the hangar was on the right side of that hallway, and he trusted the activity around that area to point him in the right direction.
As he passed other uniformed figures in the corridor, they seemed to melt sideways into the wall and reform into an "at attention" pose. They had obviously had a lot of practice with that particular move.
Junior took the opportunity to try out his most authoritative, "As you were," as often as possible.
He quickly found the entrance for the hangar. Upon entering, he noticed that McComb had had the crates full of rocks stacked near the entrance in identical metallic bins. He ran his hand along the row of boxes and walked towards the shuttle, which was humming contentedly in anticipation of the launch.
Around him, men and women worked at systems monitoring stations and moved freight. They were repairing the various shuttles and launches and prepping the G5496 for its return flight to Earth Prime.
Junior paused at the top of the ramp into the shuttle and knocked before entering the open hatch.
McComb sat in the pilots seat, but it was turned to the side. Instead of working at the controls arranged under the windscreen, he had deployed the glowing red virtual keyboard around himself and was entering command after command while watching the display projected a few inches in front of his face."Good afternoon, Sir," He continued typing, "There will be a slight delay. I apologize, but it is unavoidable."
"What delay?" Junior asked, concerned and still half expecting to be kidnapped or killed.
"We can't process your employment with the Earth Prime Protection Force without a baseline physical," a small man had followed Junior into the shuttle and keyed the hatch closed, "I'm Dr. Marcus Jackson. I'll be evaluating your general health and checking for drugs, performance enhncing drugs and implants."
"Now?" Junior unconsciously took a step backwards.
"It needs to be done as soon as possible," he replied, "And we can't clear you for flight from the G5496 until we have your DNA on file."
"But I flew here!" Junior objected.
"There was no medical officer on the mission," Dr. Jackson explained, "But the G5496 has several. Any of us could be reassigned were we to let you fly without a physical after we could have performed one."
Resigned, Junior sat down on the bench and tried to mentally prepare himself.
"Please remove your uniform jacket," Dr. Jackson started to unpack some equipment, "and roll up your sleeves."
Junior did as he was told and extended both arms, palms up. There were healers on EcoHope 11. He'd been through this before.
"I'm going to attach some electrodes to your forearms to get some readings on . . ." He stopped, running a finger along the thick scar that crossed Junior's left arm, "What happened here?"
"Accident in the crater when I was a kid," Junior almost sounded proud, "pile of sheet metal took a slide. I think the healers did a pretty good job patchin' me up don't you?"
Dr. Jackson continued applying electrodes and calibrating his equipment, "What did they sew you up with? A needle and thread?"
"Sure," Junior affirmed, "You can hardly see the scars from that."
"Is this a bone graft?"
"Yes," Junior nodded, "Hurt like hell but it works alright." He flexed his arm to demonstrate.
"Stitches and bone grafts?" Dr. Jackson seemed genuinely offended, "Did they also use leeches?"
Junior told the doctor he didn't know.
After some prodding, a few punctures, a scan and some measurements, Junior was deemed healthy enough to fly.
"That it?" Junior asked.
"For now," explained the doctor, "There will be other tests later, but for now you can go."
And so Junior went.
