Talking Man

CHAPTER FOUR - MISLEH

Time passed onboard the Aten. It passed both slowly and quickly. With no external reference for days, weeks or months, the passengers had no way to internally judge its passage. Timepieces informed them of the hours and the Aten brightened and dimmed its corridor lights based on a twenty-four hour schedule, but all that wasn't enough to compensate for the lack of a natural cycle. Trapped in the variations of endless dim, the passengers could only wait, and wait, and wait.

Extended isolation between cabins would have been unbearable as the months progressed, so inevitably there came to be mingling between the scientists, doctors and guests. It began with the young scientist Dr. Bjornson making a social call at the doctors' cabin and asking if they'd like to share dinner and a conversation. The gathering must have been a success, for it was repeated the following cycle until it became a regular event. Over the passing weeks, Lance grew friendly with Dr. Bjornson (who shared his passion for communications science) until at last Traver's cabin too received an invitation to join a dinner.

The cabins would take turns hosting all fourteen passengers in a ceremony that was at first cramped, hurried and silent, but with time became something of a party. The conversations grew livelier and louder, the close quarters grew more comfortable, and games and songs were not uncommon.

"This is the closest thing I can compare with a college dormitory experience" remarked an eager young scientist named Huang after a dinner that had become exceptionally rowdy; "Not that I would know. I'm only here at all because my time in academia was spent with face pushed firmly into book." Nods of agreement came from everyone but Traver, who started to think perhaps he was the only person onboard who had spent his younger years thoroughly enjoying himself.

That the scientists were, for the most part, warm and inviting toward Traver came as something of a surprise. The reserved distance maintained by a few of the older members of the team (such as second-lead researcher Dr. Friedrich, who was a bit of a curmudgeon) was a result of naturally cold demeanor rather than personal distaste. Traver had expected to find himself something of an unpleasant legend among them, a figure despised by all for being such a publicized thorn in their sides. If he was either of those things, the scientists did not make their antagonism apparent. Though Traver made no immediate friendships (as did Lance and Karl) and he maintained a quiet composure throughout most of the dinner parties, he was never met with an unfriendly eye or a rough tone. His own career as a space-denouncer was hardly commented upon, and if it was, the context was always limited strictly to his earth-based political views. He wasn't certain whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

Akachi joined the social proceedings from time to time. His presence enlivened the gatherings even more, an unexpected but not unwelcome result of an officer fraternizing with civilians. He was a bottomless well of stories, sometimes holding a captive audience for hours at a time. His years spent in the Nigerian Air Force provided limitless adventures, tragedies and anecdotes. How many of the stories were true and how many were fabricated or had grown with the passing decades, nobody cared. What was certain was that Nelson Akachi was the most interesting person any of the passengers had ever met. A word from him had the ability to arrest the attention of a room full of people like a magnet near shards of iron. Traver knew that his own words could hold the same power, of course, but this was neither the time nor place to use them.

Traver's least favorite moments during the long journey were these, during which he shared space with the first officer. When a dinner was being held in the cabin of the doctors or the scientists, he would find a good moment to excuse himself whenever Akachi appeared to claim all the conversation for himself. But when it was his own cabin's turn to host a dinner and the uniformed African god deigned to make an appearance, Traver could only smile and bear the endless monologuing, disliking Akachi a little more at every perfectly-phrased turn of his tall tales.