Randoms by David Liss Page A

interested in spaceships.”
    â€œI would be delighted to show you around,” she said. “Just promise that if I go into too much detail, you’ll stop me.”
    â€œThat won’t be a problem,” I said. “I’d love to see how things work, what your crew does, and how you travel through space. As much as you or your crew have time to show me.”
    She jabbed in my direction with her trunk. “You I’m going to like. I can see that already. After your breakfast tomorrow morning, come up to the bridge, and we’ll start your tour there. We operate on a Confederation-standard twenty-six-hour day here, so meet me at about 0800. You can check the time on your data bracelet.”
    â€œI’ll be there!” I said, maybe a little too enthusiastically, but I decided I deserved an honest nerd-out. I was going to see the real functioning bridge of an alien spaceship.
    She stopped in front of a door. Unlike on science-fiction shows, this wasn’t an electric door that opened with a satisfying and futuristic hiss. It had a grip handle and folded open like an airplane bathroom door. “These are your quarters, room four-twenty-one. The door has already been biometrically matched to you, so only you can gain access.”
    I opened the door and looked inside. It was small but serviceable with a cot, a desk built into the wall, and a swivel chair bolted to the floor. On the wall above the desk sat a viewscreen—clearly not an actual porthole—which provided a view of the Earth below.
    â€œI’ve made sure you all have quarters with species-appropriate latrines,” she said, gesturing to a small door in the corner.
    â€œThat’s the way I like it.”
    â€œAcross the hall,” the captain said, “is a common room. We like to provide a space where each species can bond, though of course you can also invite the Ganari to join you once they are on board. Additionally, you may socialize with any of the crew who are off duty. Your data bracelet is automatically linked to the ship’s communication network, so it can provide you with a map or directions if you get lost. It is not possible to gain access to any sections that are off-limits, so feel free to explore.”
    â€œThat sounds great,” I said. I looked at her weird, alien features and felt a strange affection for this creature who did not know me at all and who was making such a concerted effort to make me feel comfortable. “You clearly like your job,” I said.
    She snorted. “Captaining an interstellar ship is about thebest thing I could imagine doing with my life, but some tasks are better than others.” She patted me on the shoulder. “This is one of the good ones. Now, I must return to the bridge. There’s a visitor’s mess at the end of the hall that will accommodate your species, and you’ll find mealtimes via your data bracelet.”
    â€œGot it. Thanks.” I was secretly hoping she would invite me to dinner, but instead she clumsily shook my hand, perhaps having read about the custom, and left me in my room.
    I set down my bag and sat on the bed for a moment. Then I began to go through the tutorial for the data bracelet, which I figured I’d need to understand to survive. I opened up the HUD, found the tutorial, and started it. There was no voice and no instructions; a kind of understanding washed over me. It was like getting kung fu uploaded into your head in The Matrix . I didn’t know how to use the data bracelet, and then I did.
    I was so overwhelmed by it all, I didn’t really feel social. I wanted to lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling or look at the Earth through my fake porthole. On the other hand, I didn’t want to seem unfriendly. My fellow humans were across the hall, and getting to know them seemed like the smart move. They had already been hanging out together for days, and that made me a little uneasy. Moving