Trans Solar, Book 2

Epiphany's End

The quest of Laura Baddest, to find purpose beyond achieving her personal epiphany, was common to all the peoples. The universe, or merely this galaxy, was far too enormous for any branch of humanity to find self-satisfaction with grubbing around in the dirt, moons, asteroids, or clouds of debris. A strange calling intruded by design, heard by many, responded to by few, and achieved by rare and oft misunderstood people of inimitable character. 

Answering the call did not raise the individual above their former self, but could elevate the species and kin all along the way. It was a call equated with goddess motherhood singing for children to grow towards her embrace. For this reason it was logical that aberrant species whose choice of destiny was hatefulness got spanked. Pride had its place, as a warning to prepare for a large dose of humility.

Laura Baddest strained to resist the urge to seek vengeance where no wrong had been done. She did not want to become the killjoy and depressive person whose presence sucked the light of life away from people around her. The pain rooted within her soul gnawed and snarled for attention, but Laura had not yet suffered a loss to justify such errant feelings. Even had the loss or event occurred, forgiveness could rectify many a situation, but there was yet no person at fault to forgive.

Sainthood had never been Laura’s aspiration, nor pretension in that direction. Such a charade would be impossible, regardless of willing self-sacrifice for others. Laura far preferred to be honest that helping less fortunate people was a thrill, especially if she got to interact with other odd characters upon strange adventures. Just looking around at her present and recent life proved that being zany and daring paid off and was a thrill-ride along the way.

Baddie idly glanced at the balance sheets which the MU accountant had prepared. She was burdened with purpose but becoming cheapened by investing wildly in helping so many people. The Lunar credits in her accounts balanced against current and committed expenditures added up to zero.

“Darn.” Laura stated. “Darn. Darn. Darn! Darnitty, darn, darn!”

It was a quote from an ancient movie which Laura had watched, as a little girl. Baddie did not recall the movie’s title, or the main character, but the quote stuck around.

“Why?!” she demanded of herself. “Why did I spend so much just to discover that I am stupid, and have been a dupe, all along?!”

“Perhaps because society rewards the dupes for staying in line.” Darcy replied without looking away from her communications console. “We hauled you in, from that place, by the little village genie porn shops? You were a mess, Miss Baddest. Not anymore, but we are all waiting for you to get back in.”

Laura blushed inwardly. She did not even recall where she had fallen off the grid, or the surroundings. Several days had passed without much to remember. Doctors said that she had a seizure, a complication associated with some combination of deteriorating health and failure to adjust physiologically to being deep underground. 

“Ambergris.”

Baddie looked around quickly, seeking the unknown person who had spoken. A rugged individual in standard space gear held a helmet by a strap, letting it bump against his leg while he stepped into the offices.

“Pardon my eavesdropping, but your assistant is correct, Miss Baddest.” Doctor Randall found a place to stand away from seeming too close or intruding. “I am Frederick Randall.”

Baddie felt like standing up, to offer something. She stayed sitting down, because the rectal fitting for her suit was just doing its business at the moment. It was an art to get that thing to function while sitting, since space gear was not designed to sit well.