Dr. Richter munched on his cheese and pickle sandwich as he watched his television. There wasn’t a lot on at ten in the morning, but he watched it nevertheless. The content of the show didn’t really engage his interest - he was just watching to try and take his mind off the quite unbelievably stupid thing he was just one hour away from doing.
Looking back on that conversation with Eradani the day before, he couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d been too rash. It’s very easy to get caught up in the electricity of the instant, especially when Eradani was giving one of her impassionate speeches. And with those imploring eyes. Humph. Still, he’d made his decision, no point going back on it now.
He leant over to the small table he’d popped his lunch tray on and opened a packet of crisps. There was now a completely pointless quiz show on the television. He watched fascinated as the contestants tried to complete a perfectly simple geometric puzzle against the clock. For some reason they were completely baffled by it, despite the fact that your average ten year old could solve it given a quiet room and five minutes to himself. Funny the effect a couple of cameras and an audience can have on people.
Dr. Richter’s thoughts began to stray elsewhere as he lost interest in the programme. He began to chomp mindlessly on his crisps while he delved into a little daydreaming. Whatever he was thinking about, it brought a sunny smile to his face for the first time that day.
Eradani chose that moment to ring the doorbell.
His imaginings lost, the physicist stood up, finished his crisps, tripped over the little table, picked it up in annoyance and shoved it against the wall, then went and answered the door.
‘Morning,’ said his ex-student, cheerfully as always.
‘That’s right,’ replied Dr. Richter, brushing some crisp splinters from his pullover. ‘I suppose you’d better come in.’
‘Well, only if I must,’ joked Eradani, and she entered Dr. Richter’s needlessly large house. He closed the door behind her and followed her into his lounge (well, the downstairs lounge; he felt he didn’t need four bedrooms, so had installed a secondary living room upstairs).
He found her seated neatly in exactly the same place he had been moments before. How and why did she always do that? Was it a natural talent, or just something she’d learned specifically to annoy him?
‘What’s on the box?’ said Eradani.
‘I don’t know. Wasn’t really watching it.’
‘Ah. And why is there a tray on the floor?’
‘Is there? Oh, yes. I must have knocked it off the table when I answered the door.’ He stooped over and picked up the tray. And the mug that had fallen beneath it. They were both summarily relocated to the kitchen.
When he returned, the Doctor sat in the spare armchair. He fiddled with his thumbs for a while, then turned and spoke.
‘Do you still want to go through with this?’ he asked.
Eradani twisted in her seat so she was leaning side-on to the back of the settee. She rested her elbow on the back and fiddled with her hair. ‘Yes,’ she responded simply.
‘So you don’t, for instance, want to chicken out completely and put the whole thing down to a moment of wild fantasy?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Do you?’
‘Me? No,’ laughed Dr. Richter. ‘Of course I don’t.’
‘So why did you ask, then?’
‘Just making conversation,’ replied Richter. He suddenly remembered he was supposed to be playing the part of host. He stood up and started to make his way towards the kitchen
‘Would you like a drink or something to eat?’ he asked.
‘Oh, no thanks, I’ve just eaten,’ said Eradani infuriatingly. Dr. Richter sat back down again. He’d never been very good at entertaining.
‘Did you come by car?’ he asked.
‘No, I walked,’ she replied. ‘Look, for Heaven’s sake, let’s just go to Tompkins’ place. There’s no point sitting around here for half the day.’
Dr. Richter relaxed noticeably. He’d been hoping she would say that. Tompkins was far more used to dealing with guests than he was.
Without further ado, they faffed around for twenty minutes or so, then eventually left the house.
Dr. Richter’s feet struck the pavement with a satisfying click. Ah, there was nothing like a good, quality pair of shoes. Made by the finest craftsmen, specifically tailored to his individual fit. He’d go to Moss Bros again, he thought.
‘So, why are we walking, then?’ he asked his companion.
‘Because it’s good for you,’ replied Eradani. ‘And also because it’s quicker. Look at the traffic.’ Dr. Richter looked at the solid lines of traffic on both carriageways and had to agree that she might be right.
‘Maybe so, but it still seems a waste. I bought my Zonda at a huge price. I’ve got to use it now and again.’
Eradani stopped walking and stared at him in amazement. She was sometimes baffled at the way other people lived their lives. ‘You want to use your car simply to justify your buying it?’ she questioned.
‘Well, yes?’ he replied carefully.
‘God. That’s so conceited.’
Dr. Richter was impressed. That was quite a good word.
‘You use a car when it’s necessary,’ she continued, ‘not when you want to go round the corner for a paper. It’s no wonder the roads are so packed these days.’
‘I’m not going to get a paper...’ he started to say.
‘I think the whole world’s gone completely mad,’ Eradani suddenly continued. ‘Everybody’s become driven by comfort and idleness. Anything that involves even a little bit of exercise is suddenly completely unacceptable. It’s just so typical of today’s society.’
Dr. Richter concentrated on staring at the ground. He didn’t dare look her in the eyes. It was obviously going to be one of those days when he could do no right, so he figured he’d be best off just going with the flow.
‘I bet if we find an alien planet you won’t see such laziness. I reckon the aliens would have developed the perfect society, where everybody works for everybody else, regardless of personal gain. You won’t get any selfishness or greed. There won’t be any crime. I mean, why do people in such a ‘civilised’ society as ours have to steal and kill and defraud and whatever? Surely everyone can see that if we all worked together and co-operated, there would be no need for the rich and the poor, we could share everything out equally and all live happy, comfortable lives. Don’t you agree?’
‘Erm, yes, I suppose.’
‘So why isn’t it happening, then?’
This was probably the most difficult question Dr. Richter had ever been asked. He wished she’d just asked him to explain quantum chromodynamics or something equally as simple. He settled in the end for a vague, non-committed mutter.
They carried on walking to Tompkins’ place, chatting idly about television, music, pigeons, why small dogs always seem to do the exact opposite thing to what you want them to, and what the Captain’s first name might be.
<=> <=> <=>
‘This is a most unexpected pleasure,’ said Tompkins when they turned up at his door. ‘What brings you round here out of office hours?’
‘We need to talk to you about something important,’ explained Eradani.
‘Oh, well you’d better go and make yourselves comfortable in the lounge. I’ll just go and fetch some refreshments.’
‘Er, where’s your butler?’ asked Richter as Tompkins turned towards the kitchen.
‘Oh, he’s away for a few days,’ the old man answered as he walked. Eradani and Richter went into the lounge and sat down carefully on the extra-soft suite. They waited a few minutes while Tompkins clattered away in the kitchen.
‘Do you think he’s got an infinite supply of biscuits?’ Richter asked.
‘No. He just gets them shipped in by the manufacturers. I’ve seen the vans come here,’ said Eradani.
‘Oh, right.’
Tompkins scampered into the living room carrying a typically large tray of tea and biscuits. ‘Nothing better than a mid-morning snack, is there?’
Despite being able to think of at least three things, Richter replied, ‘No, there isn’t.’ Smiling a smiley smile, he grabbed a custard cream and promptly dropped it down the side of the cushion.
Tompkins relaxed into his armchair and began to pour the tea.
‘So, what is this important business you wish to discuss?’ he asked, clanking the spout against the rim of a cup. ‘It’s nothing serious, I hope.’
Eradani accepted the cup-and-saucer he offered her and placed it on the side table next to her chair. ‘It is serious,’ she said earnestly. Tompkins’ smile faded slightly and he leaned back in his chair.
‘Continue,’ he said.
‘Well, it’s just that we’ve been thinking about the crew,’ she said.
‘Do you refer to those we’ve hired, or those we haven’t?’
‘The ones we haven’t,’ replied Eradani. ‘We’ve found, or at least think we’ve identified, a couple of... suitable candidates for the posts. Just as a proposal, you understand.’
Tompkins looked at her, concerned. Obviously, this was not news he particularly wanted to hear. ‘But my dear girl, I thought I made it perfectly clear that I am to appoint the crew for our project. A lot rests on the choice of personnel.’
‘Of course it does,’ agreed Dr. Richter. ‘But surely it wouldn’t hurt just to offer a suggestion. The sign of a good manager is that he listens to his employees’ advice.’
‘But he doesn’t necessarily have to accept that advice,’ said Tompkins. ‘No, I’m sorry, but I must choose the crew myself.’
‘But can’t we...’ started Eradani.
‘No,’ ordered Tompkins. ‘That is the end of the discussion. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to carry on with my work. You can show yourselves out when you are ready.’ He got up to leave.
‘Please, listen to us,’ persisted Eradani, ‘you don’t even know who we’re going to recommend.’
‘That is immaterial,’ said Tompkins.
‘But it’s not,’ she said, agitated. ‘It’s us.’
Tompkins hesitated slightly. ‘How do you mean?’ he asked, his interest suddenly aroused.
‘We feel that we would, erm, how shall I put it, like to have a more involved position within the concluding stages of the Garden Wall project, albeit in a non-advisory, hands-on capacity. If you see what I mean,’ said Dr. Richter in cryptic fashion.
‘I’m not sure I do,’ replied Tompkins, returning to his seat.
‘We want to go into space,’ said Eradani bluntly.
‘You? You wish to become crew members?’
‘That’s what I said, wasn’t it?’ muttered Richter.
‘Yes. Both of us,’ Eradani explained. ‘We’ve discussed it thoroughly. We understand the risks and we know that we might not ever come back, and even if we do it won’t be for many years, and this is all assuming the ship works in the first place, but we both still feel that, well, this is what we want.’
Amazingly, she thought she could detect Tompkins trying to hide a smile. He coughed briefly, as though he could hardly believe what he was hearing.
‘But my dear friends,’ he said, ‘whatever makes you think you are suitable candidates?’
‘Because we know this project inside and out,’ said Richter, ‘and we’re both astrophysicists. We’re as qualified as anyone.’
‘But what do you know of space travel? You have no experience, no training. It is a very, very serious undertaking. It’s not like catching a train, you know. You can’t just hop on board just because you feel like it.’
‘Well what about Denise?’ Eradani pointed out. ‘She’s hardly an experienced astronaut, is she?’
‘That’s very true,’ admitted Tompkins. ‘Which is why we have negotiated a series of intensive training courses with a top space agency.’
‘Then train us, too. Come on, you know we can do it.’
Tompkins thought about this for a while. He looked up at the grandfather clock and examined the ticking of the second hand yet again. He thought back to the telephone calls he made at eight o’clock every Thursday, and how he had been instructed to undertake tasks he had thought impossible...
‘I tell you what,’ he said eventually, ‘I’ll make enquiries with the space agency and see if it is possible to squeeze you onto the planned training courses. If, and this is a big if, it proves feasible to train you sufficiently at such short notice, then I will consider your proposal seriously. I can’t be fairer than that.’
‘Well, that sounds reasonable enough,’ said Richter. He turned to Eradani. ‘What do you think?’
‘Yes, yes I guess that’s fair. Thank you very much.’
‘Don’t mention it,’ said Tompkins, waving his hand modestly.
‘So when might we know? About the training?’ asked Richter.
‘Oh, soon. I shall start my enquiries immediately.’
<=> <=> <=>
Richter and Eradani made their way down the crunchy gravel drive of Tompkins’ house. They’d been in there little over half an hour.
‘Well, what do you think?’ Dr. Richter asked.
‘I think we’re going into space,’ replied Eradani. ‘He must have arranged training for all four crew members. He wouldn’t be sending Denise on her own.’
‘I think you’re absolutely right. This time next year, we might well be on our way to Barnard’s Star.’
Smiling, they ambled gently down the driveway. Tompkins watched them from his study window. When he was sure they were gone, he grabbed the Gnome Phone and relayed the good news to his employer.