The Navigator

Bubbala

Bubbala

Dr. Fox's communicator buzzed as it waited for the other party to answer. The quantum entanglement transmitter, or QET, was a marvel of ages long past. Due to the instantaneous nature of quantum entanglement, communication was two-way and real-time. The devices were left over from the war. The Millennium Wars had raged for a thousand years, leaving much of the galaxy in ruins. At last the barbaric Crevak Tribes had been driven back by the Consortium of civilized races.

Most of the infrastructure to build such high technology had been lost during the war, the knowledge long forgotten over the thousand years the wars had raged. The technology was still present, though. Much had remained in use, and yet more was scavenged by relic hunters, or scavs as they were also called. Dr. Fox had seen more than one academic paper with relic hunter co-authors.

His mother had been distraught at him leaving for the academy even though he was only going one planet away, so he had purchased the pair of communicators in hopes of making her feel better. It had been nice while he was away. Then she retired and followed him from their home planet of Hentaru, moving to the space station orbiting the planet Melanor, where the academy was located. Now he couldn't get rid of the damn thing, even though her proximity meant they really didn't need them.

After several seconds of ringing, a hologram bloomed to life in the air in front of him, his mother's face lit by a broad smile. Her hair bounced, the same almost black hair, cut into a bob that hadn't changed in two decades.

"Oh bubbala, I didn't think I'd hear from you until dinner this evening," she said enthusiastically. "I'm so happy to see you."

"Um, well..." he began.

"You're not coming for dinner, are you," she said, looking dejected. Brightening, she asked, "Is it a girl? Do you have a date?"

"No mother, no I don't. I have an assignment, a field assignment."

"What does that mean, bubbala?" she said, sounding slightly confused

"It means I get to work for the most illustrious researcher in my field, Dr. Phillips."

"How's he to work for, this Dr. Phillips?" she interrupted.

"She's fine, I think. I haven't worked with her before."

"Ooh a woman, eh? What's her family like?" his mother replied eagerly.

"Mother! It's a professional relationship and is going to stay so."

"okay, you know I'm just concerned, I want you to find a good woman from a nice family."

"Mother, can we get back on topic, please?"

"Of course, dear, where are you going?"

"We are going to Serath, an alien world on the outskirts of the galaxy in the outer arm, to study a lost civilization. I'll be gone for some time, how long I don't know," he explained.

"But you'll come for dinner tonight, before you go, right?" she said desperately.

"Sorry mother, I have to leave now. This is big for me, for my career. I'll call you later, okay?" he finished, feeling guilty.

"okay, I'm not happy about it, but okay. Love you bubbala, be safe," she said.

"I will," he promised.

"okay let me kiss your forehead."

"Mother, it's a video," he replied, embarrassed.

"Bubbala, it's for luck."

"Mother, please."

"Christopher," she said severely.

"Fine," he said, leaning towards the holoscreen.

His mother's lips puckered and kissed the air in front of him.

"Love you Bubbala," she said, her image disappearing.

He groaned inwardly and continued packing. He wasn't sure what he was going to need, so he brought everything he could carry, resulting in a substantial pile of luggage. He only had a few minutes left before he had to leave for the shuttle that would deliver him to Dr. Phillips' ship, the Falcon. No time to repack, he would just have to bring it all.

Loading up, he stacked the bags on a rolling cart and slung a pack over his shoulder. The autocab took him to the shuttle station and he was directed to bay A-two-seventy-nine. The shuttle pilot took his many bags, giving him a skeptical look, as if questioning his manhood.

Climbing into the seat, he secured his flight harness and tried to look casual, as if he weren't, as Reese had called him, a greenhorn. The shuttle pilot glanced at him and chuckled.

"Relax kid, the flight's not bad, I won't push the g's too far."

Dr. Fox knew he was in for wild ride, based on the pilot's tone. And it was. He nearly blacked out from the g's, and probably would have wet himself had he not used the facilities prior to departure. The pilot laughed when he sent the craft into a wild spin, the high rate of revolutions making his head spin. Equilibrium failing, it sent him into vertigo. He would have flown out of his seat had he not been restrained.

Thirty minutes later they reached Reese's ship, the Falcon. She was long and sleek with broad wings at the aft. Her gray skin appeared almost slick like a shark's. He was slammed against his harness as the pilot applied reverse thrust. Ow, that was gonna leave bruises.

The shuttle docked with the Falcon with a clunk. Detaching from his harness, he began to float free. Following the pilot to the airlock, he pulled himself along strategically positioned handholds. He sailed through into the other ship and immediately hit the floor.

"Ow," he said, wincing painfully as he picked himself up.

"Yeah, you've gotta watch the transition between zero-g and the artificial gravity generated by the deck plate g-panels," the pilot warned sarcastically, delivering the last of his bags into the Falcon's airlock.

"Thanks for getting my ba..." whoosh! The shuttle's airlock door shut in his face.

He turned as the Falcon's airlock began to open. Standing just inside, waiting to greet him, were several people. Dr. Phillips appeared confident as ever. Next to her stood a tall, ebony skinned woman with tight-cropped kinky black hair. She wore an army green jacket with "K. Hubbell" on the name tag. Her face bore a stern look and strapped to her waist was an intimidating looking firearm.

Next to her was a blond woman wearing a dark blue jumpsuit, seeming to be around Dr. Fox's age. Her hair was cut shoulder length and coiled into curls at the ends. She had alabaster skin and rosy cheeks. She smiled warmly at him.

"Hello Chris," Reese said, no heat in her voice now. "Welcome aboard the Falcon. This is Hubbell, she handles security and piloting. This is Emma, my resident computational resource."

Hubbell nodded at him and Emma smiled, turning her head and pointing to the small silver port in her temple.

"Yes, I am an artificial. Pleased to meet you, Chris," Emma said, extending her hand.

He took her hand and shook it, the flesh surprisingly realistic, even warm to the touch.

"Hubbell, can you help with all these bags? Emma, prep the ship for departure, it's time to get out of here," Reese barked.

"Sure, I'll help with the lady's luggage," she said sarcastically, a broad smile playing across her face.

He hustled aboard, dragging as many of his bags as he could handle in one trip.

"Just don't get in my way, okay. Welcome aboard," Hubbell finished.