Stranger Times

Why I Built This Pool (Smackdown Entry 3)

"Heading Forward? Rising Prowess? Shaft?" Admiral Nelson asked irritably.

"Christine Richard seems fond of expressing a ship's uh, virility. I guess," Melinda said, not able to see what had the chief engineer doubling over, in a laughing fit.

"I'd drive this ship straight into that orbiting pleasure-palace of hers, but I suspect that's how she'd like to go out," Admiral Nelson muttered. He started down the hall to the airlock leading to the ship and gestured for them to follow. "Let's get this over with."

"Lie back and think of England, sir?" Scotty asked, just before doubling-over with laugher again.

"I might be tossing you out an airlock, Scotty," Nelson warned.

"It'd be my first time, sir, so please be gentle," Scotty managed to sputter, between sputtering gales of laughter.

Nelson marched ahead, muttering irritably, leaving Melinda behind with the Morning Glory's chief engineer. She scratched her head, utterly bewildered, and asked, "why did you say the shape was the fault of its design?"

Scotty took a few deep breaths, and said, "Oh, it's not just this ship. Every spaceship looks like a penis. They're basically skyscrapers with fusion rockets on the bottom. Spaceship design 101 is to put the entire ship in front of the engines. That way things aren't ripped apart when the engine punches forward at 6Gs. It's just more pronounced on this ship, because of the ice-breaking wedge and the engines."

Melinda looked back to the Morning Glory, with the protruding wedge of nano-reactive graphene, and the twin, round, massive engines at the end of the ship.

Melinda noticed the engine's casings were a faint blue colour.

"I don't see it," Melinda said, feeling a little silly for being so confused.

"Are you really a reporter?" Scotty asked her, her eyes wide and her lips pursed in a soft whistle.

Melinda chose to ignore the dig at her reporting credentials. "Any idea why the Admiral is so dismissive about this project? We're gathering seven billion tonnes-"

"Trillion. Seven trillion cubic metres of water. Mind your significant figures," Scotty corrected her.

"Trillion tonnes of water. That's a game changer for the water-starved Jovian colonies. And the idea of leaving it in a bubble to make a Phobos-sized moon for easy access? It's brilliant. Why is the admiral so surly about being a part of this project?" Melinda finished asking.

"Because the Admiral lives in the real world," Scotty said. Melinda couldn't help but notice the humour had left her face. "Real life tends to disappoint idealists. First times are like that."

Scotty laughed again and shook her head. "Dang-it, now even I'm doing it. Although how you've missed the symbolism of that phallic idiom over there, I'll never know. Let's go, before the Admiral takes the Morning Glory's maidenhood without us."

Confused, Melinda followed Scotty through the airlock and onto the ship.

"Red lines lead to the CIC. Blue lines lead to engineering, if the Admiral gets sick of having you around. Good luck, kid," Scotty said, waving as they parted ways.

Melinda followed her path for a few minutes until she came to an open blast-door that lead to a large, circular room in the heart of the ship, where Admiral Nelson seemed to have returned to his element.

"That's all systems green. Once Scotty checks-in, we'll cast-off and move ourselves a quarter million kilometres from the instillation," Admiral Nelson said, watched the display on the nearby wall.