A Penguin's Dream

    “Wake up Mr. Morgan,” Dr. Phelps said.  “We’ve arrived, your flight is scheduled for 17:00, you don’t want to miss it.”
    Sam awoke, foggy minded and bleary eyed, he could see Phelps on the other side of the car talking to him through his open door.  On his side the door was being opened by Phobetor, he looked at the clock in the car; it revealed the time to be 16:48.  Phobetor helped the still dazed Samuel out of the car and onto his shaky feet, every time Sam had a short nap during the day he always felt mildly confused and significantly more than mildly nauseous.
    The fresh air of the chilling night woke him up substantially.  He looked at the sky, the cloud cover had increased and a slight drizzle was falling on the tarmac around him.
Sam liked the smell of wet tarmac; he always associated it with his childhood but could never remember anything more specific about it than that.  Sam could feel that the wind had picked up noticeably as Phobetor ushered him over to where Dr. Phelps was standing.
    Sam took a proper look at his new surroundings, it was dark but he could still see most of the buildings by the dimly coloured lights of this small airport.  On one side of the facility was a control tower and a couple of warehouses.  Taking up the majority of space were about a dozen hangars, each one had armed security personnel guarding them.
There were a few people in green jumpsuits scurrying about and Phelps was currently shouting at one of them over all the background noise of airships taking off and landing.
    “I want the top priority ship ready to go as soon as possible,” Phelps said.  “It needs to take off before the wind gets any stronger!”
    The man in the boiler suit nodded in compliance and rapidly scuttled off to the farthest hangar.  Phelps walked after him and motioned for Sam to follow.
    “Was that guy the pilot?” Sam inquired.
    “What did you say?” Phelps asked.  “Speak up, I can barely hear you.”
    “I just asked if that man is my pilot.” Sam repeated, louder to compensate for the sounds of the airport.
    “No, he was just an engineer,” Phelps stated.  “You’ll meet your pilot when you board.”
    “Do you accompany every technician all the way like this?” Sam wondered.
    “Yes I do,” Phelps said.  “This will be the sixth time I’ve sent a new technician on their way to Celestia.  The very first time I even went up in the ship with him.”
    “Why do you do it, though?” Sam asked.  “You could’ve sent anyone to escort me to this place.”
    “Being the technician at Celestia is a very important position,” Dr. Phelps explained.  “I like to personally make sure that everything goes as planned and I want to minimise the number of people who know where you’re going.”
    “Who here does know where I’m going?” Sam asked.
    “Just the pilot, the chief engineer and the director of this facility.” Phelps said.  “Oh…and our driver as well.”
    When they neared the hangar they were walking to, Sam could see a large yellow 10 was painted on the side of it.  The pair entered through the double door.
    Inside the hangar was what appeared to be a small private airship, it was only considered small when compared to the huge public aircrafts he saw lining the skies everyday.  Up close it was still an impressive vessel to behold, it was painted in neutral colours, there wasn’t any Olympus green to be seen.  It was mostly black and dark grey, written in white on the side was the name of the ship in small capital letters, apparently it was called the ‘Penguin’s Dream.’
    A few engineers were around the ship; one he recognised as the man Phelps talked to outside.  That man was currently speaking with someone else in a similar boiler suit, except that individual had a yellow symbol, which Sam identified as the Olympus logo of the inverted V within a circle.  Sam assumed that person to be the chief engineer.  There were a couple other people making some last minute preparations and a woman waiting at a computer console on a slightly elevated platform.
      Dr. Phelps took his position next to the chief engineer and called up to the woman at the console.  “Lower the access lift,” he ordered.  She pushed a few buttons and then a section of the underbelly of the ship, supported by four struts, lowered itself gradually until it met with the floor of the hangar.  The smoke that Sam had been anticipated wasn’t present but it was still fun to watch.
    He looked back at Dr. Phelps who just smiled and said, “Your pilot’s waiting, Sam.  I will be standing right here when you return.”
    Phelps had obviously said that to calm Sam on his impending voyage traversing the void and it worked.  Sam felt none of the dread he had expected, he was feeling very excited as he cautiously stepped onto the base of the lift.  
    When the lift ascended him into the bowels of the ship he carefully observed his new surroundings.  As much as the exterior resembled a private airship, that was how much it did not resemble one as soon as you went inside.  There was no luxury whatsoever, anything that could be done without had been stripped away, probably to reduce weight, Sam figured.  It reminded him of a submarine with the bulkheads having visible bolts and rivets sticking out of them.
    The room that he found himself in appeared to be the cargo hold; he could see the few meagre possessions he had chosen to bring with him.  He didn’t need to bring much as all things like his favourite music, films; sentimental pictures and other things of that nature had apparently already been uploaded onto his private computer at Celestia.
He could see the trunk full of his clothes and the box with some books that he had liked so much he bought paper copies of them, rather than the more common format of a computer program that didn’t require material from a tree.  They were more expensive but more substantial, which he saw as being worth the price.  Many of Sam’s favourite books were quite old, most were from the 20th century, Sam really liked that time period but he wouldn’t have liked to have lived back then.
    His eyes continued to skim over the items contained inside the ship’s hold, this was all his entire life had amounted to; some mediocre belongings huddled together in a dark room.  Then he spied the plastic container where they were keeping his cat; he approached it, opened it and took out the newly named ‘Philip’.  Philip didn’t make much of a fuss; Sam began to carry the small kitten with his left arm while he used his right arm to feel for an exit.
    The human and feline creatures both left the cargo bay and entered the better-lit corridor.  Now he could see the way he was intended to go, the hallway led him into quite a spacious room for a craft of this size.  There was a table in the centre, two closed doors on the wall to his left, a slightly larger door on the wall to his immediate right and what looked like a kitchen unit in the far left hand corner.  It was at this point Sam looked at the doorway on the other side of the room from him that led to the cockpit.  Sam couldn’t see into the cockpit, however, because there was a woman standing in the doorway.
    “It’s about time,” she said.  “Hurry up and get into your seat, we’ll be taking off soon.”
    “OK,” it was all Sam could think of to say as she turned around and went back to her seat.  Sam quickly followed her into the cockpit; it was a small room with just two chairs and a variety of computer systems.  As Sam made his way to his seat he looked at the face of the figure in the other chair, Sam recognised her from somewhere.
    Then he suddenly remembered.  She was the Nameless-Henchman who had taken him to his first meeting with Dr. Phelps, her hairstyle was different and she wasn’t wearing her uniform but Sam was positive that it was her.
    “It’s you, isn’t it?” Sam made sure as he took his seat.  “You’re the woman who took me to Olympus.”
    “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Morgan,” she said while turning to him and smiling sweetly.  “My name is Angelica.”
    “Call me Sam,” he responded.  “Why are you here?  I mean, as well as that time a fortnight ago.”
    “Eleven days ago,” Angelica clarified as she pushed buttons and flicked switches fervently.  “Dr. Phelps must have told you that he likes to keep the number of people who know about Celestia as low as possible.  He only uses a handful of trusted people for any tasks that involve Celestia, like me, I’ve recently been appointed the new security chief for the Celestia facility.”
    “What happened to the old one?” Sam asked.
    “Killed himself,” she stated bluntly.  “Can you tell me the time, please?”
    Sam apprehensively switched his gaze to the screen in front of him.  “It’s 16:59,” he said eventually, still trying to figure out if that was a joke or not.
    “Excellent,” she said exuberantly.  “I was afraid we’d fallen behind schedule.”  She held down a button in front of her and spoke into an intercom on the dashboard, “Open the roof.”
    Sam could see through the windshield, which partly cut into the ceiling, that the roof of the hangar was slowly retracting.  He then looked down to see Dr. Phelps waving at him, Sam timidly waved back.  A voice came through on the intercom after the hangar had fully relieved itself of its roof.
    “Penguin’s Dream, you may proceed when ready,” it announced.
    “Thanks, ground control,” Angelica said.  Then she took her finger off the intercom button and flipped three switches above her.  Sam knew what those switches did immediately, he could feel everything below him shudder as the engines burst into life.  Angelica gripped the controls and manipulated them in such a way to cause the ship to levitate, slowly at first, until they were out of the hangar.
    Angelica looked over at Sam, well Philip sitting in Sam’s lap and said, “I like your cat, he’s cute.”  Then she immediately pushed hard on the throttle.
    The sudden surge of power caused them to accelerate in a steady gradient going ever upwards and onwards.  Everything around Sam was quaking; he looked at Philip who was resting comfortably.  He looked at his pilot who had an expression of intense concentration and enjoyment on her face, like the look of someone who was in the middle of doing what they believed they were born to do.
    By now Sam was sure they were out of sight of Stucka, he could even spot the sea ahead of them, they were also about to reach the cover of clouds just above them.  Sam half-expected the trajectory of flight to level out at this point, like all the other times he had been in an airship but no matter what the outside of this vessel looked like, this was no airship.  Deep down Sam knew the truth of what was really about to happen but it still felt weird when they kept going above the clouds.
    Sam was staring with wonderment at all the stars, he had never seen them this clearly before, usually the cloud cover was too thick to see any and when it was a clear night, all the pollution made the stars dimmer than they were now.  Even more incredible than the stars was the Moon, Sam had never seen it this big and knew that it would do nothing but get larger for the remainder of the journey, he had never realised how beautiful it was before now.  He was still gazing at it when Angelica pressed a few more buttons, causing both the steepness of their gradient and their acceleration to increase exponentially.
    They were leaving Earth behind; Sam, Angelica and Philip were all leaving their home together.  The stars seemed to get brighter with each passing second; even Philip became alert with that last gush of speed and was now also looking through the window.  Once Sam had gotten used to it, he found this immense speed very exhilarating, he was sure by now that if this thing had a rear view mirror, he would be able to see his home planet becoming progressively smaller in it.
    As soon as he thought that, there was a sudden jolt and everything seemed to calm down, for the time being at least.  He looked over at Angelica who seemed to be plotting their course around the Moon and to Celestia on the computer to her left.  Then she turned to face him and said, “We’re OK now, our velocity is level at about 6.9 km/s and the auto-pilot is now following the course I’ve just set it.  All we have to do is wait till we get to the Moon.”
    “How long is it going to take to get there?” Sam asked.
    “Now that we’re travelling at the allotted speed it should be about a 16 hour journey,” she said.  “You are scheduled to arrive at Celestia at 09:00 tomorrow morning.”
    “Is that the fastest we can get there?” Sam asked.
    “Definitely not,” Angelica snickered.  “It’s just, we’re not in a rush and 9 O’clock tomorrow morning is the time Dr. Phelps told me to arrive at.”
    “What’s the maximum speed of this ship?” Sam asked.  
    “Honestly, I don’t really know,” she answered.  “I’ve never taken this ship up to its top speed, but I have certainly taken it a lot faster than we’re travelling right now.  When it goes very fast it starts to get a little unstable, it becomes quite dangerous.”
    “Are you afraid of finding out the top speed?” Sam attempted to goad her.
    “Of course not,” she made a point of announcing.  “I’d do it right now if the company would let me.”
    “So you’re afraid of the company,” Sam said.
    “I’m afraid of losing my job,” she said.  “This is a very high-priced piece of merchandise and the company definitely don‘t want anything to happen to it.”
    “I understand,” he said.
    “I’m supposed to just go at a steady speed as to not waste fuel unnecessarily and to limit the risk of damaging the ship,” she explained.  “Both the ship and the fuel it runs on are very expensive.”
    “You sound as though you’ve worked at Olympus for a while,” Sam noted.
    “You’re right,” she admitted.  “I’ve worked for the Olympus Corporation most of my adult life, but I only got this new position two years ago.”
    “Do you mean as the Chief of Security of Celestia?” Sam asked.
    “Yes, that’s right,” she said.  Sam looked down at Philip, half-expecting him to be as shocked at hearing this as he was, but he was asleep and purring softly.
    “So that means that you only learned about Celestia two years ago?” Sam pressed.
    “Well, yeah,” Angelica hesitated.  “So what?  It’s a lot longer than you’ve known about it.”
    “Doesn’t that mean that this is your first time flying to Celestia, though?” Sam asked.
    “Oh,” she said.  “Well, technically yes, but I’ve been on dozen’s of space flights.  I know what I’m doing, I’ve been training to be a pilot for most of my life.”
    “Really?” said Sam.  “You knew you wanted to be a pilot even from when you were a child?”
    “Well it wasn’t my first choice,” she said.  “When I was very young I had it in my head that I was going to be a film director.  Then, when I got a bit older, I found I really wanted to be a pilot.  After my training I started out as a co-pilot helping fly commercial airliners for the Panex Company and then I went to work for Olympus who bought my contract and gave me additional training to become one of their space pilots.”
    Sam was gently stroking the napping Philip as he said, “Why did you give up on becoming a film director?”
    “I didn’t give up on it,” she replied.  “It was never a realistic aspiration…”
    “Aspirations never are, that’s the point of them,” Sam interrupted.
    “It was just something I thought would’ve been a nice job when I was young,” she explained.  “It’s not like I had a talent for something and threw an opportunity away, I really believe I was intended to be a pilot.”
    Sam wondered what Angelica had meant by that last remark, intended by whom?  Most people didn’t believe in God anymore now organised religion was no longer a significant presence in society.  Most of the major world religions had disintegrated long before Sam or Angelica were born.  However, people still occasionally said things of a spiritual origin without realising it, just as Angelica had just done.  Even though religion was mostly finished, there were still people out there who believed in ancient spiritual concepts like destiny, an afterlife or even reincarnation.
    Sam didn’t judge these people, they can believe whatever they wanted to believe if it made them happy.  Even though secretly he did think that those who believed in such things were just desperately clinging to anything because they were afraid of their reality.  Sam didn’t blame them, in his final hour he thought that he could probably be persuaded without much effort to believe in the possibility of something more.  
    In all honesty he didn’t think destiny was that unbelievable, because each human is born with different strengths and weaknesses when compared to the next person.  This means that we all have absolutely no control over which inherent abilities we get.  
Angelica has the natural ability to become a great pilot, she was born with it so doesn’t that mean she had a much higher probability than most to be a pilot.  Sam thought that was a type of destiny, maybe not as exact or full of purpose as the destiny that most people think of as destiny.  Sam decided that his was a more contemporary take on the notion, a modern destiny.
    Theoretically, Sam thought, if you knew the abilities and personalities of everyone alive even better than they did, you could very accurately predict the future.
    “That’s amazing,” Sam said.
    “What is?” Angelica asked.
    “That you knew what you wanted to be from such a young age,” Sam said.  “I spent my childhood and even my adolescence having absolutely no idea.”
    “You must have at least thought about it,” she said.  “Well, maybe not, I suppose no one aims to become a computer technician.”
    “I had some dreams,” Sam said.  “I have dreams, I’m not just a tech, I only learned about computers because you can get a lot of jobs with that knowledge.  I needed a job to make most of my money but that’s not what I was meant to do.”
    “What’s your calling?” she inquired.
    “I’m a writer,” he said.
    “Well that makes you more interesting,” she said.  “What sort of writing?”
    “All that’s been published was a book of my short stories a few years back,” he said.  “Since then I’ve been writing a lot of articles for the news.”
    “Maybe I’ll read that book when I get back,” she said.
    “You can tell me what you think of it, when I get back,” he said.  “I really want to get back into writing, that’s why I took this job, I’m hoping to get a lot of work done and then get a lot more published when I return.  I want to write a novel.  That’s my dream…and I like it.  It’s good to have dreams.  I can’t even think of how empty a life would be if it didn’t contain at least one.”
    “It seems your aspirations aren’t unrealistic,” she commented.  “They’re actually happening for you.”
    “I never thought about being a writer when I was young,” Sam confessed.  “In fact, I hated books when I was younger, I always found them boring.”
    “That’s a strange thing for a writer to say,” she said.  “Then you really didn’t have a dream job when you were a child that, as you got older, you admitted to yourself was never going to happen?”
    “I did have the occasional idea that I even knew as a child, were never going to happen,” Sam said.  “One time I remember that I really wanted to own a cinema, I really love films and that seemed like the perfect job for me at the time.”
    “But it would be impossible to privately own any business,” she said.  “They’re all owned by the companies, the only way to get close to that would be to become the manager at one branch of a chain of cinemas.”
    “Yes, I know,” he admitted with a sigh.  “That’s why I said I knew it was impossible even when I was a child, I did have another idea later in my life, though.”
    “Really?” she said.  “What?”
    “After I’d worked freelance for the newspapers for a while, I kept getting offers from individual papers to join their staff,” he said.  “I said that I’d only join if they let me be their film reviewer, but no one wanted me.”
    “That’s two jobs that have involved films now,” she said.  “I’m surprised that both our dream jobs are so close together.  I used to think it would have been nice to make films but why do you want to write a book when it’s so obvious that you prefer films?  Why not write film scripts and get them made?”
    “I considered that,” he said.  “In some ways I believe films have an advantage in being better than books because they can not only obviously use images, but also music to express emotion.  However, even though I like films more than books I still prefer the idea of books because it doesn’t matter how much money you have for special effects or famous actors, whether a book is good or not solely depends on the talent of the writer.  Anyway, if I write a book good enough, that can always be turned into film, most films are based on books after all.”
    “I think I see what you mean,” she said, noticing Philip stirring.  “Do you mind if I hold your cat?  I love animals.”
    Sam had actually forgotten that something was using his lap as a bed.  “Err…sure,” he said while manoeuvring the half-conscious kitten from him to her.  “There you go.”
    “Thanks,” she said.  “I don’t tell many people this but I went through a phase when I thought I wanted to be a vet.  I always did like animals but I’m always embarrassed about telling people because it just seemed like too much of a cliché.  I didn’t want to admit that for a time I was like many other little girls who wanted to look after sick animals.”
    Angelica was playing with the now wide-awake Philip who seemed very interested in the zip of her jacket.  As he watched this Sam wondered why this woman who he barely knew was opening up to him, maybe because he was the only other human here, maybe because he was about to have five years of seclusion, so who would he tell?
    Angelica was holding Philip high on her chest and resting her face against his soft fur, her eyes were closed and Sam wasn’t quite sure which one was making the purring noise.
    “You know, you seem very different than the first time I met you,” Sam remarked.
    “Oh,” she said, remembering their first meeting.  “I suppose you didn’t catch me at my best.  I had been working since early that morning and when my twelve hour shift was over and I was about to go home, they tell me at the last minute that I need to pick you up and escort you to the headquarters in the pouring rain.”
    “Why did they make you do it?” Sam asked.  “You are a pilot after all, they may as well have just used a taxi, it was only a short car ride.”
    “Celestia is one of the most guarded secrets of Olympus,” she said.  “Only the most high up officials in the Corporation and the European Parliament even know it exists.  Phelps is paranoid about something going wrong in his precious system; he makes sure I personally take care of any little jobs that involve Celestia.  Fortunately, the position as Chief of Security doesn’t require that much effort, it’s only intensified recently because of the imminent changeover.  Most of the time I’m just an acting Captain in the Olympus security force.”
    “I find it pretty funny that you can be the security chief of a place you’ve never been to,” he said.
    “I never said I haven’t been to Celestia,” she said.  “I just said this is my first time flying there, I’ve been present on numerous cargo ship ‘deliveries’.  I didn’t pilot any, I was just there to observe and help out, for the experience.  Admittedly, I didn’t see much of the facility, just the loading bay for the prisoners, but at least I can say I’ve set foot in the place that I call myself the security chief of.”
    “Will you be the one to take me home in five years when my employment is over?” Sam asked.
    “Probably,” she said.  “I’m not the only pilot Olympus has that can make this flight so they might send someone else.  Dr. Phelps insisted I make this trip, again for the experience but flying there and back takes a long time, I might not be able to do it if I’m busy taking care of something else.  It’s difficult to predict what will happen in five years, I might not even be on the continent.”
    “Do you know anything about the other technicians of Celestia?” Sam asked.
    “Yes, I have detailed records of the five that have already worked there,” she said.  “Your information was added too when you accepted.”
    “Have they all been English, like me?” Sam said.
    “No,” she said.  “Only one other was born in England, the first technician, Richard Thorpe.  Most have come from Europe; I think only one came from outside Europe, the fourth, Nobu Hattatori.  If you really want to know more about them all you can access the information from that computer terminal over there,” she gestured over to the monitor on the wall to her left.  “If you want a closer analysis of their personalities, you can always just ask Hypnos’ opinion if them, he has spent five years with each of them.”
    Sam couldn’t see why not, it might be helpful to learn about his predecessors and he could see the kind of information they were keeping on him.  He got out of his seat and strolled over to the medium sized computer monitor in the wall.  There weren’t many files in it that didn’t have to do with running the ship, he quickly found the records of the Celestia techs.  There were six of them, so far, in chronological order their names were:
Richard Thorpe
Chloe Deveraux
Maria Vasquez
Nobu Hattatori
Gretchen Bruntz
Samuel Morgan
 
      Sam couldn’t resist investigating his own file first.  Nothing really surprised him to begin with.  Why would it when he was reading about his own life?  It was just as he had expected.  When he delved further, reams of data regarding his own life was available to him.  There was even some information that he either never knew or had forgotten.  The whole experience of reading about yourself, Sam found highly disconcerting and so moved onto the other technicians.
As Sam clicked on each name he was told dates of birth, countries of origin, employment histories, current and previous residences, detailed information on their families and, in the case of Chloe Deveraux, her date of death.  He guessed they really wanted to make sure they knew who they were putting in charge of Olympus’ most precious possession.  The most peculiar thing he read, however, was that under the section of current residence for Richard Thorpe, it was listed as unknown.
    Sam found that strange, you would have thought a huge corporation like Olympus would be able to find out where one of their former employees is.  He decided to ask Angelica about it, “Angelica?”
    “Yes?” she said, turning round in her seat to face him.
    “Why is Richard Thorpe’s current residence listed as unknown?” Sam asked.
    “Yeah, I thought that was weird too when I first did some research on them,” she said.  “I asked Dr. Phelps about it and he told me all about how the company likes to keep tabs on all former caretakers of Celestia, for their own protection, of course.  He said that when Richard Thorpe returned to Earth twenty years ago, he took his payment and said he was going to go back to his home in Newcastle.  All records show that he never occupied his house again or bought anywhere new, he didn’t even open a bank account, he’s presumed dead.”
    Sam didn’t look up from the computer screen, he continued to delve further into the archive, less for anything interesting or useful, more for just killing time during a long journey.  Without turning around, he asked Angelica one more question, “Have you ever met any of the people on this list?”
    “No,” she said.  “I’ve only met you and I’m going to fly the name above yours on the list home tomorrow.  Most of them moved back to their home countries, bought a big house and started a nice life.”
    “What happened to Chloe Deveraux?” he said.
    “She died in that terrorist attack on Paris six years ago,” Angelica said.
    “Yeah,” Sam started.  “I remember seeing that on the news, that was a big explosion, the city looked like such a mess.  Did they ever find out who did it?”
    “It was tied to some terrorist group,” she said.  “I can’t quite remember which one, there’s so many and they’re all so similar it’s hard to even know what each one wants anymore.  I might not recall the reason for the bombing but some people were arrested and sent to Celestia, nevertheless.”
    “It wasn’t Olympus that orchestrated it was it?” Sam asked, half-jokingly but also half-concerned.
    “What?” Angelica said, not fully understanding.  “Of course they didn’t, what would make you suspect them?”
    “Sorry,” he said.  “It was just a passing thought.  I never did understand why the Olympus Corporation would pay so much money to someone for taking care of Hypnos.”
    “It’s what you get for selling five years of your life to the Olympus Corporation,” she explained.
    “Olympus is one of the most powerful companies in the world,” Sam said.  “They just don’t seem to be leading in morals, you know what they do to people in Celestia, the death of Chloe Deveraux and the disappearance of Richard Thorpe just brought out my initial suspicions.  If they wanted to, they could just get rid of the tech after they were finished and easily get away with it, then they wouldn’t have to pay out, that’s the most important thing for a company, isn’t it?  To make a greater profit than any of their competitors.”
    “That would be horrible,” she said.  “Someone devoting five years of their life in a very important service and getting that as a reward.  It’s true Olympus has to look at the bigger picture more times than most but those people in Celestia are horrible criminals, it’s the best solution we have at this time.  Besides, you’re the one going to work there so clearly you don’t have a problem with it.”
    “I suppose you’re right, Angelica,” Sam said.  “I’m starting to sound paranoid already, imagine what I’ll be like after five years with just a computer for company.”
    “I have a feeling you won’t have changed very much,” she said.  “Don’t worry Sam, just like most people you will get exactly what you deserve.”
    At that moment Sam stopped prying into the lives of these people he’d never met and turned off the monitor.  He wondered if, in five years time, there will be someone else standing where he is now, except that they might be rooting through information about him.  He sat back down in his chair and asked, “Is this your ship?”
    “Well, technically it belongs to the company but no one else flies it but me,” she said.  “I was the one who named it, though.  We still have quite a way to go.  Back in the dining room there are two doors that led to bedrooms, if you want to get some rest before we arrive you can use them.”
    “There are beds on this ship?” Sam said.  “I didn’t expect that, this place seems to have been completely stripped of all luxury.  I thought that because this was less than a 24 hour flight, the company just intended us to have a nap in our seats if we needed to sleep.”
    “Well it is going to be more than a 24 hour trip for me because I’m going there and back straight away,” she said.  “In each bedroom there is a bunk bed built into the wall, the intended capacity of these ships are a crew of four.”
    “Why would they put in four beds?” Sam said.  “There’s only ever going to be two people at any one time on board.”
    “The Olympus Corporation has 12 of these Hermes class space ships,” she said.  “It would be a waste if all they were used for was one run every five years, all the ships have the facilities necessary for going to many places other than Celestia.”
    Sam looked over quickly at Angelica, he would’ve pressed more on what she just said if he thought she would tell him anything.  He got the impression that she divulged more than she meant to from how she was now avoiding his gaze and really focussing her attention on Philip.  Apparently, Sam was not meant to know all of Olympus’s secrets and he suspected they had many.
    The necessity of secrets, Sam understood, was very important in modern living.  He had quite a collection of secrets himself, some Olympus might not even know about.  He had always been adept at keeping secrets, especially other people’s, for some reason most people often entrusted secrets to him, just as Angelica had just done about wanting to be a vet and she had only known him for a few hours.  Sam decided to let the Olympus Corporation have their secrets, nothing could be more surprising than Celestia, anyway.
    Anticipation poured over Sam, he was actually looking forward to his new home, a place where secrets didn’t matter.  Angelica had said that he was selling five years of his life.  Five years of solitude, or five years of solace?
    The job description is very relative to the individual.  Sam was fortunate; this suited him ideally.  Shifting his gaze out the main window straight ahead of him, Sam could see that the Moon had become noticeably larger and brighter.  When Sam was a teenager his favourite possession was a computerised telescope, he used to love to point it at the Moon and observe the seas.  Now he was going to get a much better view than ever before when they make their pass around it.
    This could be the best thing that had ever happened to him, Sam hadn’t gotten the chance to appreciate this as much as he should.  He was going to a place where he won’t have to take any orders from bosses he hated, he would be the boss and after he’s finished he’d be rich, which meant no one would ever tell him what to do again.  True freedom was soon going to be his and he would have to go to prison to attain it, he was now grinning wider than he had in years.
    Angelica noticed this and asked him, “Why are you smiling?”
    He answered, “Because I have no reason to frown.”