Cantilever Jones Swings Low, Part 1
I didn’t see the female, being absorbed in readying the Jones for takeoff and making sure the local vassal
government won’t be levying some kind of fee or surcharge like they sometimes do. But Norl did, and he said she
was a youngish female, older than the youngest, but not fully. Something about how she’s still in the hiding phase.
Lizards don’t fully understand human development, so I ignored this.
We pulled out of hyperspace near the polar zone of Senel-6, a big gas giant about half a astronomical unit away
from our destination. This was by design. Sure, the most convenient thing is to pop into real space in the equatorial
zone of the planet, then slide right down on rocket power. There’s even a certain style to it. Newbie pilots
especially love that maneuver: in their heads everyone drops whatever they’re doing to see the magic spaceship
hop into their orbit. But I don’t like the risk. Orbit is the most dangerous place in space, precisely because of the
concentration of other beings and other spaceships. Two ships coming out of hyperspace in the same spot is rare,
even infinitesimally rare, but it’s not impossible, and it’s not something you ever want to see. Two things
colliding their realities together, being punished by the laws of thermodynamics for existing is…well, it’s gross.
I’d rather hang out with gorks.
Besides, it’s handy to approach your planet on regular power and scout it for signs of trouble. Every time you pop
into hyperspace, you change the universe around you. You have to be sure you’re arriving into the scenario you
thought you were.
Senel-4 is a decent-sized Terran-class planet, with a rather high population density. Most of it is huddled around
the equatorial zone. Which on the one hand is normal, but the manner of it here is extreme. Once you get past the
tropics on either side, the human population falls to almost nothing, and quickly. Something to do with local
wildlife being dangerously inhospitable. I never quite understood it, but then I never quite paid too close attention
to it. The few odd jobs I’ve had out here were for mining and agricultural equipment - typical settler needs. I don’t
think I’ve ever actually taken anyone there, until this trip.
We made landing at Asport, which is pretty common. Spaceports are spaceports not because you specifically need
to take off an land from a specific place - that’s the beauty of space travel - but because of the convenience of
logistical support. Spaceports are where space equipment is easy to locate and where the locals know what you
need and how to use it. Despite the ubiquity of space travel, most people don’t leave their home planets, and most
that do tend to settle in wherever they arrive, and sit under new stars and forget everything about how they got
there. Most humans travel when they have to, and prefer to build their lives where they are if they can.
All of which made me wonder the more about our passengers: obviously not setting up missionary shop, since they
were leaving, but obviously not bringing any proselytizing materials to dump and leave either. In fact, as I watched
them descend from the ramp of the Jones, it was really quite clear that they didn’t figure the local population into
their plans in any way. During the entire time, I don’t think they asked for anyone’s name once. In fact, barely
half-an-hour after leaving the Jones, they came back aboard, in exactly the same formation: Pale-Face in front,
Dark-Face in rear, and in between them, in a pale blue and orange robe, a girl who couldn’t be older than 14
Standard. She peeped bright green eyes out at me and then averted them. I narrowed my eyes in thought.
“Norl, what did you mean by ‘hiding phase’?”
{What?}