Buttons #Project Constellations

Quid pro quo

I'm always up for a challenge, and I had a challenge ahead of me: a nearly impossible deadline, along with finding our founding visionaries and telling Brianna she has seven days to make a decision, well, even I had my work cut out for me.  I also needed to get an extra message to Brianna. Good thing I usually only sleep five hours, and can operate well on three as long as I need to.  I'm also a top notch problem solver, so I can do this.  Except for talking to Brianna, that's a problem.  I can only say two-three words to her at time.  The longest phrase that I have directly addressed to her is, 'Adjusting course, ma'am.'  If my voice was 3 octaves higher than normal, well, she wouldn't know would she?  She's barely ever heard my voice!

Now, you're sitting there thinking, 'yeah right, a fourteen year old girl can't be this capable.  No way, no how.'  First, you will regret the emphasis on girl, girls can do anything.  Second, it's my story, and I can be as humble (or not) as I want to be.  So there.

I sent out my already completed work to the relevant teams, informing Ned that I'd already looked into a few routes, and calculated one with some attention.  That would save us a few hours.  While waiting for the rankings to get to us, so we could calculate the top ranked destinations first, we decided it would be best to get dinner and some shut eye before diving in.  The research team can do the all-nighter this night.

Ned woulda accompanied me to the brass's mess, but I had an errand I needed to complete in a slightly less prestigious eating locale.  Every community has their group of individuals who don't quite fit the mold, and I made sure to visit my people often.  Precocious fourteen year olds can get lonely too, you know.  

Entering the mass, the lights seem a little dimmer.  Because they are, easier to get away with more.  Most of the ship messes have automatic dispensers - you dial, they supply.  Using the supplies here, real live cooks created dishes of great taste and delight.  Each meal you had two options for the main course, and if you didn't like the options, you can go get dialled-junk from somewhere else.  You order your meal from a real-live person, and they gather the meal and hand it to you. 

I wander up to the counter, and I'm in luck, its Tracy at the counter.  'Hey Tracy, what's the word?'

Tracy smirked, androgynous voice twanging with humour, 'I'm thinking you're more up on 'the word' than me.'  
'Could be,' I replied.

Dark eyes assessed me.  'What'll it cost me?'

'Quid pro quo, Trace.  Info for info.  I need to find someone, or someones, and I've got some news people'll want to hear.'

'Who're the people?'

I shrugged, 'The founders.  I have a hunch Elias is hiding out somewhere on this ship, and M might be with the fleet as well.'

Tracy, 'That's a tall order.  News better be top notch.'

An other shrug from me, 'It is what it is.  Pluto's a bust.'

'A three year old could tell me that.'  

'No-one would take that bet, huh?  Well the prez is already on it, top specialists looking into top twenty destinations, to be ranked by how likely humanity is to succeed in reaching and colonising them.'

Tracy eyed me shrewdly, 'That's not enough info to compensate for the work I'll be doing finding founders who don't want to be found.'

'Yeah, yeah.  I can give you a good idea of what the final ranking will be, and so you can play the odds when betting on our final destination.'

'That would be just fine.'

'If I give you the final ranking as soon as it's in my hot little paws, will you throw in this meal and enough purple hair dye for two months?'

'Yeah, yeah, fine.'

'And confirmed locations of at least one founder, not just rumours you leave me to chase down.'

'I'll do what I can.'

'Deal.  What culinary magic did the chef perform today?' It was cheesy, creamy rich beef lasagne.  To die for, and I didn't even have to fork over a food ration.  Get it?  Fork? Ah, it's funny, you just don't see it.