ANDROMEDA FLIGHT 1203 TO FARGUS

“Flight 1203. Who would have believed it! In the short

time since the colonization of the planet Fargus began,

there have been 1202 flights completed!”

         The reality of my situation was just beginning to

crystallize. As a low ranking member of the United Nations

diplomatic corps, I hadn’t the ability to pick and choose

assignments, yet here I was in route to the choicest plum of

all assignments, the embassy at Fargus.

         I had been assured Ambassador Wentworth was a wonderful

supervisor to work for and I knew his opinions carried a

great deal of weight with the entire U. N. administration. I

had also been assured that, if Ambassador Wentworth liked

the way I worked, I would be promoted with an accompanying

pay increase.

         The posting was only for a year, as was customary with

junior level diplomats. I was almost giddy at my good

fortune. Being posted at the most peaceful embassy in the

galaxy, working for a man of Wentworth’s reputation with a

promise of career advancement. Life was good!

         Flights to Fargus had become so common that this one

included not only female passengers, but two children. The

family directly across the shuttle included a man, his wife,

an adorable year old son and a four year old girl I soon

dubbed the rodent. She was under people’s legs, in every

corner, in and out of the men’s and women’s bathrooms, in

the galley. In short, she was every place there was a place,

receiving no parental guidance.

         I chose to ignore her obnoxious behavior. With the good

fortune I was enjoying, why would I allow myself to be

bothered by anything? I sat back and studied the menu we

had been given shortly after takeoff. One item caught my

attention. I hadn’t eaten a pork chop in years. The more I

thought about it, the better it sounded. And they had

creamed English peas. This was going to be a great meal.

         The flight attendant came along and asked for my dinner

order. I ordered the pork chop, mashed potatoes and creamed

peas, adding that I would not be displeased if there were

extra creamed peas on my meal. She smiled and said “I’ll see

what I can do.” She then moved to the seat in front of mine

and prepared to take the order there.

         The occupant of that seat, a dignified looking lady

with grey and black streaked hair was immediately

antagonistic.

         “I’ll have none of this swill you serve. You will find,

in your refrigerated unit, a box marked with my seat number.

I am going to take a nap now. I expect you to awaken me in

exactly three hours. At that time, I will have a glass of

Brut Sparkling Wine with the chilled lobster from the

refrigerator and a tossed salad. I will also have a two


centimeter slice of fresh whole wheat bread. Do you

understand?”

         Instead of slapping the old biddy as she should have,

the attendant smiled and said “Yes, ma’am’” As she passed my

seat, she rolled her eyes up and I gave her a small nod.

Both of us were fully aware, as no doubt was the passenger

in front of me, that Andromeda served only real food. None

of that processed, reprocessed, dehydrated, re-hydrated

garbage was ever served on any of their flights.

         The attendant rolled a cart down the aisle toward me,

stopping two seats in front of me. She placed a bowl of soup

in front of the man, who was sleeping. The cart then started

in my direction again. I saw the rodent walk by the sleeping

man as she started toward the front of the shuttle.

         Casually, she reached out and grasped his shirt sleeve,

lifted his hand and dropped it into the bowl of soup. She

never even slowed down until she reached the galley. As she

turned into the galley, she looked back to see what had

happened and grinned. The poor man must have thought he

accidentally moved his hand into the soup while he was

asleep and didn’t say anything.

         A few minutes later, I received my tray, a substantial

metal tray, holding the very foods that I had requested. I

smiled at the size of the pile of creamed peas. But first, a

sip of that coffee with the wonderful aroma. I lifted the

cup up to my mouth. When it reached my lower lip, I halted

the progress of the cup. The coffee kept going, splashing

hot liquid on my nose and forehead. Reflexes saved the eyes

from being filled with the burning concoction. I immediately

noticed several things in rapid sequence.

         The coffee now hung suspended at almost eye level. When

I was burned, I instinctively jerked my legs upward, The

tray was now up against the overhead. My pork chop was

floating above my neatly folded suit jacket on my right

side. I saw the mashed potatoes fly over my left shoulder.

Where they went, I still don’t know. My wonderful creamed

peas were suspended over the head of the woman in front of

me.

         “Don’t panic,” I told myself, “Get the tray first, then

gather all the food; put it on the tray and hold it all down

until the problem is corrected.”

         The attendant pulled herself forward and into the

galley. There she found the rodent suspended in air near the

top of the galley. Somehow, she had found a way to climb to

the top of the cabinet and, standing on her tip toes, she

had disengaged the artificial gravity device. The attendant

cradled the child in her left arm and reached over with the

right hand and turned gravity back on.

         I reached for the tray , not daring to loosen my

seat belt. Just as my fingertips touched the tray, it

plummeted onto my lap. The coffee and cup fell onto my shirt

front, though not together. The pork chop fell onto my suit

coat. As I gingerly tried to remove the pork chop without

doing any more damage to my coat, I felt the tray slide from

my lap toward the aisle.

         As I turned my head in that direction, I came eye to

eye with the woman from the seat in front of me. She now had

a eight centimeter crown of creamed peas on her head. She

also had my tray in her hand.

         I really shouldn’t have laughed, but I did. I just

couldn’t help myself. And I paid dearly for it. That was

when she started swinging the tray.

         The attendant heard the commotion and came running. As

she tried to explain to the woman, she at least quit hitting

me, though you could see she didn’t believe the explanation.

The woman apologized for destroying the tray and started

toward the forward bathroom area. She stopped once to

straighten her clothing and glare back at me.

         At that moment, two English peas slid down her forehead

and onto her nose. She stomped off to the bathroom. Not so

much as an “I’m sorry.” No mention of the medical procedures

I would have to endure on Fargus. Nothing! Just a glare.

         Through my left eye, now swollen half shut, I saw the

rodent standing by her mother, grinning. It was probably my

good fortune that there were so many witnesses present.

Otherwise, I might have wound up in prison for child abuse.

In retrospect, it might have been worth it.

         Mentally, I predicted the rodent would one day be

responsible for an intergalactic war that would destroy all

known civilization. And, she would grin while it happened.

         Upon arriving at Fargus Spaceport. I quickly retrieved

my bags and rushed to the Medical Center where x-rays showed

no permanent or life threatening afflictions were present. A

quick trip into the Men’s room, a change of clothing and I

was off to the Embassy, no worse for wear, except for the

swollen left eye.

         In the lobby, I met the young family from the shuttle.

I almost asked “Where is the rodent”, but I caught myself in

time. Instead, I asked “Where is your little girl?” The man

answered “We don’t have a little girl. If you’re referring

to that brat on the shuttle, I don’t know who she belonged

to.”

         His wife chimed in “She kept wanting to hold the baby,

but there was no way we would allow that little imp to touch

him.”

         “Strange,” I thought, but spent no more time worrying

about it. I was overdue at the embassy and had to rush.

Thankfully, the embassy car was still waiting at the curb

when I exited the Spaceport.

         When I presented myself at the front door of the

embassy, a staffer escorted me into Ambassador Wentworth’s

office. The ambassador rose from behind his mahogany desk

and met me halfway across the room. His demeanor was

extremely warm, and the firm handshake gave the impression

he was truly glad to see me.

         I soon realized why he was so well respected in the

diplomatic field. He gave the impression that you were the

most important person in the universe and you had his

undivided attention. He was clad in the traditional blue

pinstripe suit, perfectly manicured hair and bore a dignity

without conveying the idea that he thought he was better

than you.

         He quickly filled me in on the major events since the

discovery of Fargus and its colonization. He didn’t try to

give too much detail, just the basic history I needed to

become a part of the staff. I found my mind wandering,

trying to think of ways I might be able to extend the time

of my posting to two, maybe three years. This was the dream

posting of all postings. I could learn much from this man

         He completed the thumbnail history and then turned to

my duties. “Actually, when I read your resume, I just knew

you would be perfect for my problem. As you know, the life

of an ambassador involves his whole being, family and more.

My wife is getting on in years and could use a hand now and

then with some of the matters she handles for me.

Your job is to assist her whenever she feels she needs help.

You’ll officially be working for me, but she will really be

your supervisor. Excuse me.”

         With that, he picked up the telephone and spoke into

it. “Liticia, your new assistant is here. Do you have time

to come meet him now, darling? Very well, dear.”

         Oh, yes, you guessed it. But I didn’t, until she

entered the room. Even without her creamed pea crown, I

would have recognized her anywhere. And judging by the

immediate scowl that came to her face, she recognized me,

too. Something deep down in my being groaned “It’s going to

be a long, long, long, long year.”

         The ambassador continued “And look. She has the light

of my life with her. This is my great granddaughter

Margaret, who will be staying with us while attending our

excellent pre-school.”

         There, holding her great grandmother‘s hand, looking

straight at  me, stood Margaret.

         The rodent!!

         A cold shiver raced all over my body. As our eyes

locked onto each other, her face broke into a broad grin!!!