2206 : Window Onto A New World
I. Homeworld
I. Homeworld
B
ernard Sturn generally enjoyed travelling back to Ovel , and the present visit was
no exception. The prospects of meeting dear distant friends in the flesh and taking an extended stroll in non-virtually-simulated nature compensated more than enough for the long days aboard the not so comfortable shuttle. Indeed, the chance of temporarily leaving the sanitized living quarters and equally bland scientific facilities of the near desert Veshtar represented a welcome source of relief. The opportunity of again tasting the delightfully luxuriant chaos of urbanized life on the motherland was a rare treat. All that combined made him forget about the official motivations for the journey. Or rather, under normal circumstances, he would not have minded them much. A puzzling finding had made it necessary to advance the spaceflight by a few days, and the researcher had thus hastened to depart, with very little preparation time. The trips between the third and fourth planets usually coincided with their conjunctions, when the orbs approached their closest alignments, but even though the voyage had been a few days longer than usual, his enthusiasm was greater than usual too. This was a unique occasion. He was invited to comment on a discovery that was not as much singular as utterly unprecedented. And considering the promising changes looming on the political horizon, this was anything but routine business for the tall, dark haired, bespectacled man in his late forties. These were extraordinary times, and even possibly extraordinarily rewarding times, when he would at last witness the fruits of so many years of dedicated efforts bloom into full maturity. As an additional bonus, the rush had meant reaching Ovel just at the start of the weekend, enabling him to dine alongside some of his favourite people. Carrying a travel bag over his shoulder, and closely followed by his automated suitcase, the minimal, strictly essential baggage he had brought over with him, the famous scholar kept walking in the direction of the doors which led to the main parking lot. The driver who was supposed to have been sent to greet him typically waited for him there. The casually clothed expert scanned the busy terminal of the immense spaceport in the hopes of locating the employee of the Global Research and Development Administration. But his gaze was irresistibly attracted to the darkening sky he couldn't miss through the huge transparent dome covering the vast open space. Sunsets were definitely to be counted among the small pleasures of being on the homeland. And though he could only distinguish a few of the brightest stars that heralded the nightfall, the sight easily rivalled those common to the world he had escaped for a too brief while. As he again looked in front of him, amidst the many passengers who crowded the noisy area, the space engineer finally saw the person he was searching for. Standing by the entrance, dressed in the habitual black three-piece suit and wearing shades, the athletic, bearded, bald man was devouring one of his customary between meals collations, this time a gargantuan sandwich, which allowed the The Threshold
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Christopher Stewart