January 5, 2998

London, Kingdom of Great Britain

Captain Cynthia Jean Calbot, master of the vessel HMS Queen Elizabeth IV, was late for her meeting with The Right Honourable Andrew M. Barnsby, adviser to His Majesty King Henry XX of the United Kingdom of Great Britain. Or whatever his bloody name might be. Though a member of the favored cabal of the King's, unlike that most uncouth Governor Smethurst of the Lesser Magellanic Cloud, Calbot had little patience for the trivialities of court. She was simply to be given her assignment to a ship to explore a new section of space, claiming it for King and Country. Ostensibly, it would be a different part of the Lesser Cloud, or even the Greater Cloud. Both way it would be extragalactic, and not something to be shunned. In fact, it would be rather important to be first, ahead of any other rivals, those being of other Nations (the opinion at the time holding that no species other than Human, and no Humans other than Westerners, possessed the technology to traverse the extragalactic distances.) Indeed, the French had entered the Lesser Magellanic Cloud two months before and showed no signs of a difficult or excessively expensive journey. The space race had come and gone a millennium before. The race among the stars had begun, and then slowed as it was found that Humanity was indeed not alone. A new phase had begun: the race to the galaxies was on!

Calbot had wanted to lead the first mission to the Lesser Cloud but had been passed over in favor of Lady Smethurst, never popular with the ladies and gentlemen of Court or Parliament. She had been given the Endeavour, a new class of ship with engines delivering power unknown in all of history, power sufficient to propel a craft out of the galaxy that spawned them. Included was a modified Beagle-class exploration craft, an immense ship ferrying smaller ships, some to orbit planets, others to hover over mountains, forests, oceans... The ten-kilometer craft was extended by one-half of a kilometer for the enhanced engine housing. Together they were a triumph of engineering, a certain statement of British and Human superiority over all others.
Maniacs, all. Who in their right mind would be the first to use an untested design? It was a wonder the ships had not exploded fifty thousand light years from nowhere.

But no, Smethurst had reached the Clouds and found worlds suitable for colonization. The effort was proceeding quite nicely, with supplies leaving once per week (or was it per month?) for the new worlds. If rumors persisted that rather more than just a few habitable planets had been found, then Calbot was not privy to all details.

The new year would be exciting, indeed. The old had seen Smethurst's voyage to the Lesser Cloud, and even Calbot's return from explorations in the Milky Way. Not all expeditions had returned; some perished in the due course of the inherent dangers of space exploration. Not all anomalies of interstellar space could be predicted, and not all facets of higher-dimensional drives were known. The wonder was that any FTL travel was possible. And of course, some expeditions were lost for reasons most political, most Human, despite the alien species encountered. Not all non-Human races were friendly, nor even all Nations of a given kind, nor even all Human Nations. Some said that wars and boundary issues accounted for more deaths than any hazards of the trade. The most intrepid of the pioneers and explorers accepted that which was, and did that which came so naturally.

Be that as it may, Calbot's hover car pulled up to Buckingham Palace, where it settled to the ground and was searched thoroughly by bomb-sniffing drones. "Can't be too careful of fanatical Muslims or the IRA" she thought. Her own person, and that of her driver, were also subject to scans, done in a discrete manner. Her documents were checked in a most old-fashioned way, and she made her way into the palace, confident that her new assignment was to break no serious new ground.

*  *  *

"Andromeda!"

"Indeed." Barnsby seemed most perplexed by Calbot's reaction.

"You mean the galaxy Andromeda, Messier catalog number 31?"

"Why, yes." He pressed an icon on his desk, and a holographic image of the body in question appeared just above them. Barnsby's official chamber had no decorations, save for his diplomas and awards as well as an image of His Majesty on the wall behind the desk. Andromeda's image was a welcome break in the spartan room. "Surely you wouldn't think I mean the constellation? When did we first reach that, about 200 years ago?"

"300. And it was only the nearest star in that constellation, which turned out to be..."

"Indeed. We're offering you the chance of a lifetime, the chance to be the first Milky Way resident to travel to the Andromeda galaxy. Your record of service has been exemplary, you have charted many areas previously unexplored by any race, you have found several worlds which now serve His Majesty quite well, and you have dealt quite diplomatically with several alien species and nations. And, perhaps most important of all, you are in the good graces of His Majesty. What other qualifications do we need?"

"Perhaps not qualifications so much as information. What is the projected time of transport? One may circumnavigate our galaxy in two year's time, but that distance of 300,000 light years translates to nearly fourteen years to reach Andromeda. The time could be reduced when we account for acceleration, but how could we store food and provisions sufficient for that length of time?"

"Why, you would not, of course."

"Ah. And I suppose that we will simply resupply at the nearest supply base between the galaxies. Or, better still, why not simply hold our breaths? Or perhaps throw a line overboard and catch a fish or two? Really, Your Honor, with all due respect..." She made as if to stand.

"The projected time of the journey would be two years."

"...we couldn't possibly... two years?"

"Indeed. Our engineers have worked most diligently on intergalactic propulsion systems. Energy generation and consumption are prodigious, but the design has been tested as most reliable. Some supplies were sent to Lady Smethurst and her merry band last month using the new drive. Another is in the process of ferrying Sir Pitts to the Greater Magellanic Cloud. Other craft are undergoing modification even as we speak and one more is ready for you and your crew."

"Two years to Andromeda."

"That is correct."

Calbot paused, calculating, unable to believe what she was being told. "Two million light-years separate us from the Andromeda galaxy. Simple math would tell us that we would be moving at a relative speed of one million times that of light."

"Your average speed would be that, yes, but keep in mind that for part of your journey you would travel faster. There would be the initial acceleration and final deceleration upon arrival."

Calbot stared ahead, shaking her head. "Has this new drive been taken to that speed?"

It was Barnsby's turn for a silent pause. "Alas, no. Two months are required to attain that speed. As such, the flights to the Clouds did not require it, and did not allow time or distance for the full speed. However, we are confident that the proper velocity can be attained without incident. In fact, it is thought that speeds twice that can be reached."

"But no one has taken it to one million c."

"That is correct, yes."

"Your Honor, I must ask the question: Why is it that we have been chosen as the test pilots for this experiment?"

"Why, it is not an experiment at all. All computer simulations show that the drive will work without incident. Are you perhaps saying to me that you and your crew are not up to the task?"

"No, Your Honor, that is not what I am saying. I am merely concerned for the safety of my crew and the ship to which I am assigned."

"That concern does you credit. I can assure you, however, that the design is most complete and most secure. Now, by when may I expect your decision?"

"What is the desired departure date?"

"The situation being what it is, we had hoped to leave within a month."

"One month? That certainly does not give adequate time for crew selection and training."

"That time period is appropriate. After all, the engineers who designed the system will accompany you, and we had thought that you would use the crew with whom you have already served so nobly."

Calbot thought about that for a moment. "If you would be so kind, please allow me a week to consult with my First Officer and other sources as needed."

"Certainly. But we would request that you give us your decision within a week."

"That I can do. By your leave?"

They both stood. "Of course, Captain. I look forward to meeting with you in one week."

Calbot turned and left. Barnsby turned to look at the mirror, which opened, to reveal the image of Henry XX, King of England.

"She will do it?"

"I would imagine so, Your Majesty. She is quite ambitious, and eager to show up Smethurst and Pitt."

"Indeed. Despite the risks, of course?"

"The potential glory of the voyage will outweigh any danger, in her mind. He paused for a moment, considering whether to go on. The King raised an eyebrow, gestured with his hand. Barnsby seemed to reach a decision and spoke:

"I only hope that her optimism is not misplaced."

*  *  *

Calbot's mind was abuzz with the news. Andromeda! One million times light speed! The first, not only Human, but any Milky Way denizen to visit another galaxy! How could she possibly pass that up? And yet how could she accept? The ship she was to lead had not attained the implied speed, and yet had proven worthy of the journey to closer galactic neighbors. What unforeseen problems could there be at speeds thousands of times faster than any had ever gone?

Then there was the journey itself. Two years was, in and of itself, not a long voyage. Some travels within the galaxy could last five years, and many of the more bold had not set upon Earth for decades at a time. Still, one crucial difference remained: Most voyages within the galaxy maintained a comfortable distance away from the stars, in most cases scant days. The energy given off by a close pass to even a red star dwarfed that needed by any ship. The failure of an FTL drive did not always mean disaster: another ship would surely come, were the first stopped near an established trade route. Even those expeditions which carried Humans far from our Realm could send distress signals, maintaining themselves on starlight for the time being. Death was known in Milky Way exploration and trade, yes, but no greater proportion of ships had been lost in galactic affairs than had been lost on Earth during the Age of Sail.

That caused Calbot to think of Zheng He, Columbus, and Magellan. All had "Boldly gone where no one had gone before" to a certain extent. Zheng He and Magellan at least knew where they were going; Columbus had an idea based on fabricated data, and was warned about certain failure. Calbot decided she would speak to an old friend of hers, a Reptil named Groot Alorzun, with whom she had consulted many times. Alorzun was a historian of explorers of and from many worlds. His words had proven most useful on many occasions.

Alorzun hailed from the Reptil Nation of Ramalenta which, along with Rizzanon, had long been a friend of Great Britain. He was fascinated by British history and long ago moved to London to study it firsthand. He had taken degrees in history from both Cambridge and Harvard, one of an ever-growing number of non-Humans to study on Earth. Fluent in the English and German languages, as well as the Rizzanon and Ramalenta tongues from his own world, he had traveled throughout the Reptil and Human realms. He had spoken to Calbot many times upon her return from missions, always anxious to hear the latest news from around the galaxy direct from one who had experienced it. When asked why he never volunteered to join a scientific mission to an unexplored sector, he spoke of requirements on Earth and of "living vicariously through others."
Calbot asked her driver to let her off next to the building Alorzun called home. She sent him off, planning to take a taxi home. Ringing the door chime, she stood in front of the camera. In front of her, a small holographic image of Alorzun appeared. His face lit up.

"Cynthia! How agreeable to see you again. Are you back so soon? I had not expected you for another week."

"Yes, Groot, we ran into unexpectedly smooth sailing. Scheduling went just right, that sort of thing. I had wondered if I could speak with you. If the timing isn't inconvenient..."

"Of course not, Cynthia, you are always welcome. I had just sat down to a cup of lakavika, if you care to join me."

She smiled. "I would be delighted."

He pressed the button to release the lock, and in she went, climbing to old-fashioned stairs, still so common on Earth.

*  *  *

"And so. So..."

Alorzun sat further back in his chair, cup in hand. Calbot could tell that Alorzun was thoroughly fascinated by the mission proposal.

The flat was typical of the breed; unkempt, yet not squalid; disorganized, but with the sense that the occupant could find whatever was needed in a brief moment. The remnants of today's lunch lay on the heater, with yesterdays on the table. Books and disks of every kind, in several languages and formats, even old-fashioned paper, were strewn about. The computer terminal had some sort of bulletin board displayed. Such an apartment could only be occupied by a scholar, one whose work took precedence over any appearance. Articles from a dozen races, and twice as many worlds, stood in their spots, calmly viewing the place; perhaps they spoke to one another when no one was looking and the hour grew late? The most exotic denizen was, of course, Conthric, the Siamese cat, who now came in the room. There could be no doubt that he not only spoke to the oddities in this room, but that he was lord among them. He jumped on Alorzun's lap, a feline from one world owning a person from another, named for an ancient god of the latter's world.

It was doubtful his cat-ship cared one way or another. He knew who the real gods were.

"So..."

"You've said that a few times now, I think." She grinned, took a sip of her lakavika, a Ramalentan hot drink not unlike coffee with hot chocolate, in which a bag was suspended in water as with tea. She bobbed the bag a few times. "Advisors and Kings may say one thing, but the truth may hide elsewhere. I want to know what you think of such a journey, using such new methods."

"And well you might. But why me? Why not an engineer who designed the thing in the first place?"

"Because of your perspective as an historian and scholar. I can find all I want about multi-D engines, the energy coefficients to break past the 3-D barrier and suchlike. What you can tell me is valuable because these are abstractions to you. Would you trust something new and untested for a journey two years out from the nearest dry dock?"

Alorzun put his cup down and thought for a moment, staring at some heirloom made on another star, collected heaven-only-knew when. His eyes stared ahead, the vertical slits unblinking, so like those of his feline companion.

"I think I may, yes. After all, why are you an explorer? To be safe at all times? To let someone else assume all the risk and take all the glory, the satisfaction of knowing 'I was first?' You know how much you perished the thought of Smethurst being first in the Small Stevanocan Cloud. Oh yes, you Humans call it the Magellanic. But imagine if another were the first to go to the Hivanocan galaxy. Excuse me, the Andromeda galaxy. The wonders he would surely see, the aliens now only theories. The sights that he would be first to lay his eyes upon that you would be, at best second. He would have full control over what to do and what to see while you would look at the pretty pictures."

Conthric stared at Calbot as only his kind could. Go if you must. Report back what you find, that I may rule yet another galaxy. Or not; I care neither way.

Calbot shook her head. "But think of what this entails: two years of absolute nothingness. No stars, no planets, no interstellar mass to sweep up for emergency fuel, to say nothing of recharging antimatter canisters in a star. Interstellar navigation is difficult. One must pass by or through stars, nebula, hostile races and the like. Intergalactic navigation is a snap: nothing but Void. But, any problem, the slightest malfunction, and we would be the largest hunk of dead matter for a million light years. Can you have any idea what that means?"

Alorzun stood, looking at his model of the Santa Mariain a bottle. "It is your choice. Be Columbus. Sail in your rickety, leaky caravel to the New World. Don't be whoever was second. Let another, your children, perhaps, be Magellan and Zheng He; they will have better ships someday, and go further, but they will follow a trail blazed by you."

"Mandrofino already circled the galaxy a few centuries ago."

Alorzun and Conthric stared at her, two sets of eyes unblinking.

Calbot stood as well, putting on her coat. "I don't know. I...." She trailed off, looking at a graphic hanging on the wall. It showed a sunset, with two moons rising to greet the night. Beautiful... and alien. She wondered who was the first to see it, to wonder about it?

Alorzun rummaged through a few disks, found the one he wanted under a pile of yesterday's newsdisks, handed it to Calbot. "Here. Read the last chapter. There is no chapter and verse like the Bible, but look at the closing paragraph to the book. No. Do it at home. You go now. Call or come by any time. But read that first."
She turned, mouthed a quiet thank you, and descended the stairs, out to the noisy London street. Her last sight was of the cat, blue eyes and infinite black within...

The book, written some 1,000 years before, was Cosmos. In the taxi home, she put the disk into her player. She called up the last page. The page next to it showed Earth as holographed; no, photographed, from the moon. How quaint she thought. And yet what a marvel it was in its time. None had ever seen this view, but for paintings. Images such as this changed the world represented within. She read the closing words of the book, which spoke of Humanity being the sole representative of Earth.

How Earth-centric. How arrogant of them.

And yet how relevant to us now. For Earth was all they had then. They stood at the doorstep of where we are now. Their Earth is our Galaxy, and we speak for it. Who shall speak for the Milky Way, to those who surely live in Andromeda? Will it be the Muslims, who would surely kill all not like them? Or the French, the epitome of arrogance? Or any aliens who, with all their technology and millions of years of civilization, could never be bothered to leave the confines of this one meager galaxy? The Leviathans, caring only for those who call the oceans their home? The self-centered Kufoo, wallowing in their own corner of the galaxy? The Agrigentum, who fight one another with a zeal exceeded only by that which they accuse us?

No, only the ways of Western Humanity deserves such a Voice. That includes the Rizzanon and Ramalenta. Alorzun and others of his kind must accompany us.

Anything less would be un-Human, and a mockery to us.

"Driver, please take me to Heathrow. I have some plans that have changed."

A quick turnaround, a short walk from the taxi stand to the ticket counter, another walk from there to a plane, and Calbot was in the air above her home world. Two jaunts around the world would give enough of both speed and altitude to escape the blanket of air which had nourished her race from its infancy. The azure of noon gave way to the blackest night. Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean she began to see points of light in the sky, points that were homes to millions of people. Four of them were part of lines from the equator to geosynchronous orbit. These Bridges to the Heavens were controlled by once poor nations now considered galactic powers. Some Nations, such as Britain, disdained bothering with them in favor of the now efficient spaceplanes. Many, Calbot included, were of the opinion that spaceplanes gave a better view.

Some of those points resolved themselves into the cities they were. One in particular came into view. The destination of this plane, it was a piece of British territory in orbit, a city with the purpose of weigh station to the stars. Millions had stopped here to eat or piss before catching an interstellar flight to a million ports of call. A flight here was an hour's journey from Heathrow, no more than a train ride from London to Cambridge a millennium ago.

That was the time of that Earth-from-moon photograph. They were the brave pioneers, while we are mere commuters.

The craft docked, and the passengers deplaned, going about their business. Calbot's was to speak with an engineer, an old friend whom she knew would be free of meetings at this time. She walked straight to his office, knocked on the door, and was let in.

"Doctor, I have several urgent questions for you about this new trans-drive. I hope I am not intruding, but..."

"Of course not. Please, sit down, have some tea. How may I help you?"

"Thank you. You see, I was wondering about the schematics for this trans-galactic drive..."

Neither of them took any notice of the common, yet spectacular, view of Earth outside the engineer's window.

"As you know, FTL ships travel through a fourth physical dimension, and only appear to be travelling faster than light. They really take shortcuts 'through' space-time. A great deal of energy is required to breach normal 3-D space and enter 4-D space, which is why matter-antimatter reactions are required, though fusion detonations can work in a pinch. Due to twists in spacetime, distances within 4-D space can vary, though they may appear to be similar from the viewpoint of 3-D space.

All FTL travel is accomplished in this way, even the expeditions to the Clouds. Those expeditions merely used a more powerful design. There are more than ten dimensions, however, including the so-called compact dimensions, and communication signals go through these higher realms. The ships sent to Andromeda will go through a fifth physical dimension; thus the reduction in travel time. You will need to carry hydrogen and anti-hydrogen fuel with you, as you will not be able to recharge at a star. There will also be no stars or anything else to use as a gravitational slingshot, as is sometimes used within the galaxy. Thus, your fuel storage will be rather large, and your crew small..."

*  *  *

"And so, you will be ready for departure on February the seventh?" Barnsby was seated as he had been some days ago, in the same chair in the same room of the palace.

"Yes, Your Honor." Calbot was as before, tea in hand, but now less surprised, and less reluctant.

"And your crew selection is complete?"

"Indeed, but for one member. I have not yet approached him, but I thought the choice appropriate. I had wished to ask your blessing first."

"Oh? And who is this mysterious member?"

"He is Groot Alorzun, a subject of His Majesty and scholar is the field of historical explorers."

"Ah. But is he not a member of the Reptil race?"

"He is a British subject, born in the Nation of Ramalenta, on the Reptil homeworld, yes."

"An alien, in every sense of the word. Why would you care to take him along?"

"For his scholarly abilities, and his sheer interest in such subjects. He had some wise words for me day before yesterday. Surely you will not deny him membership for the sake of his ancestry?"

"Indeed not. In fact, we have already contacted him about this matter. He seemed most reluctant, but I daresay that if his words had power over you, perhaps yours will influence him. By all means, invite him along with the blessing of His Majesty."

"That I will, Your Honor. And now, I will take your leave to complete final preparations." She curtsied, they shook hands, and off she went.

Barnsby watched her leave. I hope our mutual trust is not to be betrayed for King and Country.

*  *  *

"No."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said no. I cannot accompany you."

"But...but it would be a great honor, a member of the first expedition to Andromeda!"

"Indeed it would, for you and your kind. I, on the other hand, would be the token alien. You could say to the beings who surely reside there 'Oh look, here is our pet. Well, perhaps not a pet, but certainly not the equal of OUR race, for his kind had to travel with us, in our ships. Tell me, Cynthia, are you planning to bring along a modified chimpanzee, so you can tell the Andromedans just how clever you are?"

"This is so unlike you! You have traveled throughout the galaxy on many ships, often with races other than your own. Why are you so hostile now?"

Alorzun sighed and sat back, taking a sip of his lakavika. "Perhaps because I am tired of being with other races. I live on another world where there are still very few of my kind. You have accepted me here, and consider me a friend, for which I thank you. But not all are so kind. There is still racism, against my kind and even different ones of your kind."

"But that would not be the case on my expedition. You've met my crew before, Alorzun."

"Indeed I have. But remember, when I have gone on other voyages, I have paid my own way, and kept to my quarters. This was easy enough to do because we were never together for longer than a few months. I fear that if I were to go with you on this voyage, I will be like the proverbial 'teacher's pet.' I will be tolerated only for that, and even then, I will not be able to hide in my quarters for two years."

"But you will not have to hide. You will be a welcome member of the crew..."

"Please, Cynthia, I have made up my mind on this. I have much work to do here, and it simply does not behoove me to go on this voyage." He rose, as did Calbot. "And now you must excuse me. I am in the middle of a project right now." They walked to the door.

"Cynthia...if I may." He paused, unsure how, or if, to continue. "I would give you one piece of advice. I beg you, be careful with this new technology. If my own race and others proceed timidly, it is because there is very real danger."

"Of course."

"But if anyone can succeed, it will be you! Bon voyage, Cynthia. I will look forward to your return!"

*  *  * 

March 20, 2998

Straight Up! That is how Captain Cynthia J. Calbot and her crew aboard the Queen Elizabeth IV made their way to a space station not in orbit of any sun, but of the entire galaxy. Officially it had some sort of long name, but all who visited called in the Chandelier. Perhaps one hundred thousand beings called it home, those having come here to do research on new trans-drives or conduct astronomical observations. Ten years since its founding had given the British Crown invaluable data, and provided a base for extragalactic expeditions. It was also a jumping-off point: from here the missions to the Magellanic Clouds had departed, as well as those to other dwarf galaxies: Sagittarius, Ursa Minor, Sculptor, Draco, Sextans, Carina. Claims had been put forth in each of these, and colonies established, in a race to beat out rivals from the Milky Way, all Human. Even now, many ships were in the process of refueling, refurbishing and reloading for their travels to those colonies. Here was a weigh station to the galaxies! If there was a great deal of military hardware present, much of which seemed to be headed for the Lesser Magellanic Cloud, then most visitors were prudent enough not to comment.

Beyond the city were immense cylinders, black against the lights of the stars. Not as flashy or streamlined as most other ships, their strength lay in their cargo capacity and potential speed. Squadrons of lesser ships could fit in the hulk of the cylinders, these Beagle class exploration vessels.

But beyond everything here man made was splendor itself, nearly lost among the hustle and bustle: the Milky Way Galaxy viewed from above, but only just, a hundred billion stars spread into their elegant spirals. The galaxy seemed a living crystal, obviously in motion, but stopped as if by time itself, viewed in but one frame of a hologram. The effect was the same as if one had a room-sized model of the galaxy, and inclined the head a foot above the model. The structure was viewed too closely to discern its entirety, but it was certainly revolutionary to those who had lived within it for the entire lifetime of their species. One could view the whole realm of Humanity as a stretch of stars the width of arms breadth, with the Reptil's area somewhat smaller. Neither homeworld could be seen at this distance without a telescope.

Earth's first astronauts must have felt the same way, as had the first airplane pilots. But just as atmospheric flight had become commonplace, so too had solar system travel. Following in that tradition, would extra-galactic voyages someday become so mundane that this view would never again evoke such wonder?

Calbot was present on her bridge when the QEIV docked with the space station. The usual docking procedures were observed, and the ship was one with the city. The QEIV, along with several hover-explorers, was to travel to Andromeda within the belly of the much larger cylinders. Upon arrival at the very edge of the alien galaxy, the QEIV and the other craft would disembark and establish a base at the nearest TTA world. Sufficient antimatter would be stored to allow a large enough buffer to allow return without recharging. Nevertheless, provisioning would take place as soon as practical.

Andromeda was a galaxy with a similar size and composition to that of the Milky Way. If 11 FTL races were known here, then mathematical probability would dictate a similar number of starfarers there. For this reason, standard protocols would be followed for first contact. Xenobiologists were to be included among the crew, as were diplomats... and soldiers. No one was naive enough to believe that no conflict among strangers meeting would occur. Appropriate weapons systems were included among the Beagle-class ship's compliment.

During the journey from Earth, there had been time to train the crew in simulations. The engineering section had worked on holographs of the reactors used in the new ships, while the pilots had learned to contend with the very different and very flat terrain of 5-D space.

Nothing could compare with the real thing, however, so it was with a feeling of collective relief that the QEIV and her four hovercraft comrades were guided into the hold of the HMS Adventure, the cylinder that would be the transport between the galaxies. Adventure's systems would be controlled from the bridge of the QEIV, but could be controlled from her own bridge as the need arose. Along with the four large ships were smaller transports and single-person craft, as well as food, water, spare parts, machines, medicines, plants, scientific instruments, linens, and the thousand other things needed for an extended voyage of exploration. Nothing could be left behind, as there would be no place to stop to pick up a replacement, though enough know-how was going along to allow a part's fabrication. The personnel ranged from mechanic to medic, from pilot to cosmologist. In all, QEIV's compliment of 150 men and women would be joined by the 50 people in each of the hovercraft, plus another 50 assigned to Adventure herself. Calbot would be the Commodore of this fleet-within-a-ship.

At last, the ships were provisioned, and the crews aboard. These 400 Englishmen would be the first from their galaxy to travel to Andromeda! With shouted and radioed orders, standard engines were fired up, and systems brought on-line. A phalanx of tugs helped Adventure slips pass the Chandelier and other craft in the area. Some aspects of shiphandling had remained constant since the days of ocean-bound craft.

At a distance of several thousand kilometers from the base, the tugs fell away, letting the albatross take flight, as her immense new engines were set aflame, propelling her into the Void.