Bowman

CHAPTER 1

Explorer One had been out for a long time. John didn't pay much attention to time, but the ships clock informed him that it had been three hundred years since they had last visited a populated world.

"Calling me a clock! How rude!" The ships computer exclaimed in disgust at the idea of being considered a mere time piece.

"All right, you temperamental wench, you are the epitome of knowledge. Now, stop griping and find us a period world that will be nice and restful where I can take a little vacation and you can re-fit and re-supply," John scolded.

Many worlds had been settled by groups that wanted to have a culture that represented some period in history, or was devoted to a certain religious order.

"Oh, here we are. Hannibal. Period, 1850's. Steam power technology, horses, some rail transport, river boats. How does that sound for a place to relax?" The computer asked as she automatically altered course. After all, her decisions were usually final.

"OK, you’re going to have it your way anyhow, so why not," John replied with little interest. "Lead on Mcduff."

"Exports are minerals, some native fruits, timber, and poultry products," she droned on without pause.

"Poultry products?" John exclaimed in surprise.

"Yup. Flightless birds it says here. prized for meat and eggs, considered a delicacy on many of the high tech worlds," she replied.

Explorer One's computer voice was that of a sensual, but no nonsense female companion. John had always thought of (it) as (she). As far as decisions were concerned, he saw no reason to argue with an organic computer that contained the total knowledge of more civilizations than he cared to count. So, he did the sensible thing. Took a nap and left the selection to her. Ten days later she was setting snugly in a berth at the Hannibal space port, and John was politely but firmly shipped off to a boarding house in the sleepy little town of Hannibal, some twenty miles up river from the space port. He sat on the porch of the quaint boarding house, owned by a widow lady, rather stout of build, in her middle years, and not a bit bashful. Her name was Molly Goodwin. She had all the latest gossip, and knew which ships would be calling, which women were looking and who they were looking at.

Molly ambled out on the porch, wiped her hands on her ever present apron and sat down on the bench across from John. The look of determination on her face tipped him off to the fact that she was up to something.

"Nice day," she said. "Spacer by your papers, don't say much do you?" She added as she inspected him from head to toe like he was going to be on the menu for the evening meal.

"Not much to say," John replied. "Is a nice day. Peaceful here."

"It is that, Peaceful I mean," Molly replied. "Lived here all my life. My folks built this place. Miners and some tourists like to come down from the highlands to spend the warm season in Hannibal. You plan to stay with us long?" She inquired. "Not being nosy, just neighborly," she added.

"Don't know really. Ship needs re-fit and re-supply, and I just need a change. You can only take so long of only having the ships computer for company." John answered.

"Plenty of young ladies in town. Most of them are quite well to do. Most more than willing. Won't be long before some of them start coming around to check you out," Molly commented as she watched the progress of a carriage along the dirt street.

"They surely have better things to do than go around checking on old spacers," John replied. "There should be plenty of young men in town to keep them occupied," he added.