THE LESSON has rigorous research

THE POWER OF EMBARRASSMENT

Next is Boise to the Brits Science platform Bed and Breakfast Hotel in low orbit for a good meal and some sleep then a quick stop at a geo sync orbit Power Company relay satellite.

The taxi driver proved difficult, even a bit borderline psychotic. He makes me wonder why it is I prefer a live driver pilot. That’s what I get for not taking a robotic handi-cab.

“I could lose my license!” He has been threatening to not take me to my destination since he picked me up at the New Paddington docking portal and yet we keep getting closer. I consider investigating his ass later, or better commandeering his taxi.

“No! No! No! I don’t want to go to that station it’s quarantined!”

“Yes! It’s not quarantined. Your taking me straight there no detours! You‘ll go or I‘ll have my office get your license yanked!” I should have taken a handicab.

“You’re nuts!”

“I was just there yesterday.” I lied. I ask suit to check and the Michelin Guide says it is not quarantined and open for guests with resort class tube suites for short or long term booking.

“I’ll be stuck on a quarantined can! If I get stuck there I’ll sue! You shoulda took the fucking bus! Get your fucking boss on your comz I’m gonna complain about you!”

“How about a tip this big?” I had a monet transfer ready on vid up. He accepted it by tapping a wallet lami on his sleeve. “And by the way I’m my own fucking boss. What’s your Goddamn complaint?”

It’s been going back and forth with him for couple hours now. Fortunately a sturdy barrier separated us. Space just looked on this typical human economic behavior with canine disdain. He argued till we were well past halfway there. I think he was planning on ditching us elsewhere on the way. He got balky as soon as he saw Space hop into his cab with me. “No dogs policy.” he said “Senior Researcher” I said. I had to slip him extra monets for Space too.

“Just what the hell part of the Government are you from anyway?”

“Not exactly the Government…I can investigate the Government…in fact I do frequently even…right now is like…”

“Nothings bigger than the Government! What could be bigger than the Government?”

“History.”

“Oh Shit! Now you’re talking like one of those militant Librarians! Fuck!”

“I know a few Librarians. I got one assigned to me on this right now.”

“Fuck! Now I’m Fucked! To a quarantined can!”

“Better take me where I want to go!”

“Bastard! You trying to set me up?” More tipping appeased his reservations.

Everybody has their own little chunk of power that they hold onto tightly with both hands. They love to get you by the balls, get you trapped in the little sphere they drive so they can fuck somebody more powerless then they are sometime. Here I am trapped at the hands of a psycho taxi pilot again.

Soon enough loomed the shiny docking orifice of TSI the huge power relay satellite station.

“Hello and Welcome to you travelers of Space.” “Arf!” Space had heard his name. How cutie. A bald headed womyn greeter holo had flashed onto the divider screen. The driver his jaw set said nothing in reply to the docking controllers. The monets drained form my accounts to cover the fare and more tipping. “TSI the power sat now has available for transient accommodation fourteen luxury resort spa power suites.” it’s preprogrammed translator glitch’d, “Please of you to check with the serv-o-mat concierge for confirmed of reservation,” So suit confirmed of. “Check out time is 1200 hours Universal time.” Gotta reset my sleeve lami chrono from Galaxy time.

The orifice opened in the gantry tube for our taxi door. It was like jerky industrial sex, highly mechanically un satisfying.

“Sure you don’t want to stay for a bit?” I teased the taxi jockey as he scowled and sealed the door behind me and Space. I noticed right away they had some gravity on this can. I hummed along with Bolero as we strolled towards the two pale figures that awaited us.

“Golly Space they’re nekkid!”

At first intrigued to see two naked women waiting for me I was soon running through possible explanations in my mind. Quarantine means no clothes? Laundry day? Optional Friday? Kinky sex satellite station? I had so many soundtrack choices I let suit choose and got a wah wah guitar porn vid theme. It was then that the burly men stepped up from out of view and with the wymyn grabbed me and my doggy. As I was lifted off my feet one of the wymyn began to explain.

“Welcome. We are the greeting and decontamination team. I hope you find your visit a pleasant one.” 

I begin to feel this is a bad, bad sign.

“Decontamination! I’m not contaminated! He’s been taking worm pills, he’s better! Just check!” One of the men lifted Space’s tail and checked.

“At TSI all potentially contaminating substances must be controlled.” They removed my very favorite shuttle suit tearing out lots of hair with the telemetry lami's. This shuts down the background muzac.

“OW! Ow! Ouch! Ouch! Don’t do that! Hey! No! Easy! No! Ouch!”

“That little bit of hair won’t matter much you’ll see.” How reassuring.

“Put me down! Give me back my clothes! Ya know you could a just asked.”

Space struggled briefly with the wymyn that captured him only to be subdued with an obviously drugged dog biscuit.

“Hey watch it he’ll bite you guys! He won’t let anybody touch me! Get em Space! Get em! Kill!” 

Another biscuit gobbled and he started to purr like a kitten and went limply along for the ride as they un-strapped his little ETAC suit. “Get em! Get em! All that money for attack school! Let me go!”

“Not before your bath’s and shaves.”

“Huh?” Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

The procession of naked people restraining me and Space proceeded into a large sani-cerami tiled chamber with medical looking loungi-cliners where we were placed gently. I decided not to struggle and save some strength for escape.

“First your shaves.”

“What? Huh? Our shaves? What do you mean by ours?” It was then that I finally fully observed that they were all bald, in fact hairless, everywhere. How could I have not noticed this? No eyebrows! No furry lower triangles. No pit patches!

“Wait no! You can’t shave me! I’m Swiss! I’m a Senior Researcher! I’m from the Government!”

“We know who you are Mr. Dvorak your reservations have been confirmed. Everyone that visits this station must be shaved. We leave only eyelash’s and snout whiskers.” I don’t remember that being mentioned in the Michelin guide.

“And naked? Everyone’s naked?”

“Yes and everyone includes your friend here.”

“Huh?”

Space made his “Huh?’ face and began to look a bit desperate. We made eye contact as they came at him with the vacuum razors.

“He sheds anyway. He’s usually naked. But not me! I’ve got a rash! Everyone will stare! Please no!”

“Your taxi is gone and they won’t come here to pick anybody up for some reason and the bus doesn’t come by for three days so you must stay. You must be decontaminated.”

I struggled until the drugged dog biscuit they forced me to eat kicked in and I joined Space in that soapy happy little cloud land where we floated together me, Mr. Freshly Aerodynamic and my rather large flop eared hairless Chihuahua looking dog.

I felt quite tingly everywhere. Later after a hot bath with a thorough scrubbing by a stiff mesh pad performed by the two wymyn we looked squeaky clean slick. We were rubbed with fragrant decontamination oil as the mickey biscuits wore off.

“This was an invasion of my follicles! I’ll sue for hair loss! I’ll investigate!” They again subdued me with drugs. And as Space watched I was then involuntarily educated at the typical toilet and red door orientation. We all got a good laugh at Space using the vacu-john. I learned that the quarantine was not to keep everyone in but to keep everything out, including my clothes and our hair. There were no poly woven wired fiber garments beyond the orientation areas. My suit would be returned to me when I depart. Everything here including small dogs and people is cleaned by air blast abrasive suction which blasts off any new little hairs. There will be no more water baths at gravity within this station. There is no gravity beyond the orientation area, it would affect the flow of energies in the super conductor power transmitters. The residents work out in hyper body chambers and eat bone strengthening supplements and sleep in gravitized Velcro tubes to keep down the zero G effects.

A Luxury suite meant I got two bisecting tubes. It was a double Holiday Inn size area but hardly Ritz luxurious. Well, who needs more room at Zero G anyway. Not like I need closet space or clothes drawers.

This is the only non-Governmental orbital power station where solar energy is transformed into energetic wave forms and transmitted to the Earth’s surface and elsewhere. While it delivers energy to its customers it records usage levels for billing purposes.

“W24 receives charging bursts from us in the far laser frequencies.” Explained my beautiful bald slick tour guide Myra. Her lovely green eyes flashing brightly in warm flora lami light.

“Lemme see the records for these time periods please.”

“Oh, slight spike there. They got three charges in a row when they usually only get one.”

“It used a lot of juice. Why? Maneuvering?”

“I don’t know. The celestial address stays the same. They didn’t change orbit. Its charge got drained quick somehow.”

“A little burst of power needed here too.”

“Yeah an extra charge up, a double charge burst.”

“Wow.” Myra looked me over slowly.

“Couldn’t you have found all this out remotely. Why did you come here personally to get this data when it’s in the cache at Corp HQ?”

“It’s just not the same as this.” Space gave me that rolling the eyes look that tells me he is sure I am an idiot. We all floated hairless and naked in a room full of power company computer equipment. She leads on to the billing records console screens so we can see where the W24 bill was sent. Following her graceful trajectory makes the full body shave worthwhile.

“Isn’t it amazing how bodies react in space.” I’m sure she can plainly see that gravity is not necessary for some things to rise and fall.