10 Lawrence - Beam me up Scotty (1/2)

I was packed and had presented myself to the transport department by five that afternoon.

”Hi Scotty,” I said, as I approached our interstellar transport facility. Scotty only handled the interstellar Ports as the local transport booths required little in the way of finesse to use, as all local Ports maintained continuous communication to keep their coordinates locked on. Interstellar jumps were another story. To maintain continuous communication was prohibitively expensive, not in terms of energy, as very little power was required, but in processor time.

Scotty was a friend who shared my delight with some old classic flat videos. The rest of the staff thought we were crazy. Every time I'd leave on an assignment I'd quip, ”Beam me up, Scotty,” and we would go into a paroxysm of laughter.

”Hi Larry,” he said, ”What are you doing here?”

”I have a new assignment,” I said, handing him my ID card.

With a question mark on his face, he placed my ID into the slot on his console. His jaw dropped as he looked at the display. ”You're kidding . . .” He glanced back at the display, ”Sir!”

”Scotty it's me, Larry, remember?”

”Sorry, Si—uh . . . Larry. It was a shock.”

”If you think it's a shock to you. You should see it from my side!” I laughed, ”Do me a favor—expedite the connection?”

”What's your hurry? You don't have to leave till tomorrow morning.”

Scotty was a friend, and we had enjoyed many hours viewing old flat anime and similar videos together—he would understand, ”You know Miss Lushbt?”

”. . . You mean Pauline?” He queried, stars in his eyes.

”Yes, well the rumors are true. She's after me!”

”Diana is a bit puritanical, isn't she?” Scotty reflected.

”She sure is!” I said, thinking of my fiancée's probable reaction to Pauline nibbling on my ear.

”OK, for a friend,” Scotty said. Checking the setup, he switched into his lecture mode.

I didn't interrupt although it was old hat to me. Besides, it gave Scotty something to think about besides losing a good friend. ”Now there is no difference between an interstellar jump and a local jump,” Scotty said, in a soothing tone, ”in spite of the distances involved. Once we have communication with the transponder to verify the coordinates, the computers will sync. Then it's just a matter of convincing all the strings that make up the atoms of your body that they really would be more comfortable at the new location and there you are.”