………………………………………………………………………

Excelsior was on a routine debris sweep. This was the bread and butter of Thomas Major’s orbital garbage removal business. On this particular sweep, Major was hired by the major orbital cruise ship operators to clear their orbital lanes of dangerous debris. You would be surprised by the amount of junk that falls off of the tourist cruisers. Most cruise ships have exposed viewing platforms where they allow passengers to suit up and experience the real vacuum of space in the most direct way. People being as they are, obsessed with their own images, always bring various photographic equipment onto these platforms to take selfies with the Earth as a backdrop. Who wouldn’t want such an image displayed in their family room? Well of course it is very difficult to handle photo equipment in space gloves. So invariably phones, camera selfie sticks, and tripods find themselves floating away. There were other objects which seemed to fly off the cruisers with regularity. Stuffed animals were popular. Plates,

glasses, and silverware disappeared into the black. Larger items could be engine housings, oxygen tanks, and communication antennae. Stuffed animals and spoons may not seem dangerous, but when orbital craft travel at high rates of speed, they can easily puncture the hulls of tourist cruisers or any other craft.

Excelsior was sweeping orbital lane B2. Its capture nets were extended to catch the debris. It was a boring operation for the crew as there was not much to do but to watch items fall into the nets.

The entire crew was on the bridge trying to fight the boredom while Major had the easy task of holding the joystick steady so that Excelsior stayed in the lane.

“This is our fourth launch since our incident and we haven’t seen or heard anything from our enemies,” Carlos began. “Do you think we’re safe?”

“These people don’t forget Carlos. We can be sure we’ll encounter them at some point,” Major responded.

“I wonder what they did to Commander Fox?” Rosalind asked.

“I’m sure it was not pleasant,” Major continued. “She’ll be back you know,” Carlos asserted.

“Carlos, she’s probably in some gulag wasting away,” Rosalind stated.

“No. No. No. The villain always comes back. That’s how it always works.” Rosalind and Major were not surprised that Carlos’ view of how the world worked mirrored the plots of movies. “Besides she knows the most about Major. The Communists are not going to pass on all she knows about Major.”

“You have a point Carlos,” Major agreed. Major had foiled Commander Fox’s deception in getting him to retrieve a data module of the Communist Central Committee containing the personal information of every human being. Fox claimed she was with U.S. Space Force Command to get him to retrieve the module. She also used her enticing womanhood to lure Major into the task.

But when a Chinese dissident crossed paths with

the Excelsior crew, it was clear that Fox was working for the Communists. And realizing the pernicious evil use to which the Communists put the data, Major took the only action a principled man could. He destroyed the data. But Major knew that because of his actions, he would now be a marked man, and something that Fox said made it clear that he would have to watch everyone from now on. His simple life as a space garbage hauler was over.

“Boys, I’m going back to my cabin. I’m going to try the radio transmitter again. I’ve got to keep trying. You can keep fantasizing about Commander Fox if you want,” Rosalind said and she got up to leave. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

After Rosalind cleared the bridge Carlos continued, “You know Major, she has something for you.”

“Rosalind?”

“Well, maybe that too. But I’m talking about Commander Fox.” Carlos was not bashful about bringing up such topics. But it made Major very uncomfortable.

“Carlos I don’t really want to talk about this. Can we change the subject?”

“Well all right.” Carlos thought for a moment and then brought up another topic uncomfortable to Major. “So have you thought about my suggestion?”

“I don’t know Carlos, I would feel silly.” “Silly? What do you mean?”

“What the hell would I write in a captain’s log?”

“My gosh, the proceedings of the Excelsior!” Carlos urged.

“Proceedings? We pick up garbage Carlos. Who is going to want to read the ‘proceedings’ of garbage pickup?” Although Major had reluctantly agreed to be referred to as ‘Captain,’ he retained humility that he was just not that important.

“It doesn’t matter if anybody reads it today. Captains throughout history have preserved their actions and thought processes for the sake of posterity. You have a duty to history to record

events that involve this ship. Certainly, the events that happened a few launches ago merit preservation.”

Major gave Carlos a look. What he had just said did strike a nerve with him. The Excelsior’s major role in the capture and destruction of the Chinese Communist Party’s data module would not likely be recorded by history. No one knew of Excelsior’s role except a few and of course the Communists who were not going to make a note to history. But Major’s self-conscious nature was anathema to recording his thoughts and actions.

“Well Carlos, I still don’t know. I am not a writer. I guess I’ll think about it more and if I figure out a form I’ll give it a try.”

“Great.”

All through their conversation, Major kept Excelsior on a slow, steady, straight course. Items continued to fall into her capture nets. Major could feel the drag of the heaviness of the nets.

They needed to be emptied and reset soon. Major was getting uncomfortable and bored in his bridge chair. He turned to Carlos, “Carlos will you

take over for a bit? I want to check on Rosalind and I’ll go empty the nets.”

“Me? I don’t know how to fly this thing.”

“It’s not hard to keep the ship straight. Just hold this stick steady. There’s no traffic around, but keep your eyes on the tracking system screen. If anything shows up, call me.”

Carlos was tremendously excited. He never thought he would get to fly the big ship. He took the pilot’s chair like a kid with a new toy. Major headed off to Rosalind’s cabin. He was always concerned with Rosalind’s plight. He viewed himself as a type of defender or protector of Rosalind. Rosalind’s husband was missing on a supply mission to Mars. His ship had not been heard from. She had been trying to reach his ship with communication equipment she installed on Excelsior. Major felt a great sense of duty to watch over her in her quest.

Before reaching her cabin, Major stopped off near the cargo bay to operate and empty the capture nets. The capture nets emptied directly into the cargo bay. Major dumped the contents of the nets

into the cargo bay operating them remotely from outside the cargo bay. He heard the contents tumble into the bay and he was curious what was picked up. Once the cargo bay doors were closed and the bay pressurized, Major stepped in. The usual debris was there - phones with or without their selfie sticks, a space glove, spoons, a fragment of a solar panel. But Major was looking for one particular type of item. He rummaged through the debris. And sure enough, there was one amongst the pile, there always was. It was perfect for Major’s purposes - the most comforting of creatures. Major grabbed it, dusted it off with a couple of swipes of his hands, and he also gave it a couple of good thwacks to plump it up a bit. He then proceeded to Rosalind’s cabin with a boyish smile on his face.

Outside her cabin Major hesitated momentarily not knowing how Rosalind would be. Major decided to turn off his reserve as he realized that in some way he did not understand he cared for the person inside. He rang her call button and waited.

“Come in,” Rosalind answered.

Major gingerly stepped in and saw Rosalind hunched over a mass of communication gear checking signal strengths and turning dials. Major asked, “Anything yet?”

“No. I’ve been sending out a repeating signal every three hours on the frequencies his ship used and nothing, simply nothing.”

“And anything from Mars Colony One?”

“I did get a message from Colony One. They were tracking my husband’s ship and it was perfectly on course. But then they received a message from the Survivor that they had to divert course into the L5 trojan asteroid field in Mar’s orbit. They don’t know why. The message was garbled.”

“Who is the pilot of the Survivor?” “Pierre Malone.”

“I know Pierre. He’s a good pilot.”

“Why would a supply ship need to divert into a trojan field? That just doesn’t make sense to me,” Rosalind said.

“Well, the only thing that would make sense to me would be if they were being followed or under attack.”

“Attack?” Rosalind stated with alarm. “Who would attack a supply ship out that far out?”

“I don’t know Rosalind. I agree it doesn’t make much sense.”

“Every day that goes by a piece of him slips away. The next ship of any kind heading to Mars is not for another three months. I can’t get there in any sort of time to look or help. Colony One has its drones out to see if maybe they crashed somewhere on Mars. But they have limited coverage; they can’t search all of Mars. I’m dying a little bit each day just like him.”

Major saw and heard the agony Rosalind was going through. There was nothing he valued more than the commitment of a man and a woman to each other through the voyage of life. He had lost his partner years ago, so he knew the torture of adrenaline and cortisol induced emotional and physical collapse. So this is why he valued and

respected Rosalind so much. They shared a most human experience that bound them unspokenly but viscerally. He knew it would be difficult to find words to comfort her. A simple action combined with simple words would be better. Rosalind was in her chair blankly shivering. Major squatted down beside her placing her above him. He took her hand, looked up at her, and said, “Rosalind, I am sure that you are not the only one watching over your husband. He is out there somewhere and is looking back to you. Because of this, you are not getting farther apart. You are getting closer together.”

The words soothed Rosalind. The words had a truth. She did feel a stronger attachment though the distance was immense. She grabbed Major’s hand and squeezed it in thanks. The fallen look on her face lifted a bit. Major thought he could lift it a bit more. He reached behind his back and said, “A new crew member has come on board whom I think can help you.” He brought out from behind his back a stuffed bunny rabbit, presented it to Rosalind, and placed it right next to her listening equipment. “His name is Mr. Fluffs. You see these large eyes. They are very powerful. They can pick up the faintest of transmissions from very far

distances. I’m sure he is eager to assist you in finding your husband.”

A broad smile broke from Rosalind’s face. Even a giggle escaped from the disconsolate Rosalind. “Well, I’ll have to put him right to work.” Rosalind slightly adjusted Mr. Fluffs so that his ears more directly faced her communication speakers.

Carlos’ voice then came over the intercom and said, “Captain can you come to the bridge, we have a transmission coming in.”

“On my way.” And then to Rosalind, “I’ve got to go.”

“Carlos is flying this thing?” Rosalind asked with surprise.

“Yeah, I thought I would give him a chance. He’s been itching for it for a while. But I better get up there before we crash into something.” Major turned and headed toward Rosalind’s cabin door. When he was in the archway, Rosalind spoke, “Thomas,” Major turned back toward her. “Thank you,” Rosalind said with unfeigned appreciation.

Major nodded, turned, and headed off to the bridge.

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