Rain May and Captain Daniel Read Online Free Page A
Author: Catherine Bateson
than more tenants. The Ferengi at the supermarket told her. They know everything. I suspect young Mr Stewart has a link to the police computer equipment. He probably has his mobile phone tuned to their frequency. Not that I think the alien activity will be closely observed by our security officers.
I canât actually remember the old woman dying â well, thatâs not so surprising, is it? She died there â let me just check with Mum â yep, about four years ago. Planet 7 wasnât under surveillance by the USS Endeavour then. In fact, that was the year I collected stamps. Or was it the year I panned for gold? Anyway, sometime later the first aliens arrived. They didnât stay long. Too cold, they said, atmosphere hostile, nutrients expensive, company dismal, and they moved up the highway. Pity, they had a son who played chess, like me, and, like me, hated sport.
The next colonisers were a dead loss, too. A couple of girls, practically teenagers. All they did was sit out in the sun all day and paint their toenails and dry their hair. They were living away from the mother ship for the first time. Males of their species kept arriving in hotted-up starships and driving recklessly away long after my bedtime.
Then there was the strange alien, the one we simply had to place under surveillance because he was so unreadable. Thatâs when Planet 7 got its name and thatâs when I started this Log. Despite all my efforts, I could find no reason why he shouldnât stay on Planet 7 and do his work. It turned out, after months of close watching, that he was an artist, that was all. Of course this rather shocked the larger population of Cosmos, but Iâm afraid thatâs what Cosmos is like â a system occupied by the mediocre, the plain stupid, the incurious and the aged. Present company excepted, of course.
The Captainâs Log, Stardate 140901
The aliens arrived. Both females. One is Counsellor Dianaâs age, the other is more my age. I climbed the observation tower knowing that the smaller female would eventually check out the back territory. I was not disappointed. First contact was friendly.
Her nameâs Rain, not after the astronomer in Futureâs End, Star Trek, Voyager, Season 3, but after a poem. Sheâs heavily into poetry. She writes fridge poetry. I donât know anyone who writes poetry. They tried to make us do it at school but the Klingons wrote obscene limericks instead.
Counsellor Diana thought about taking them soup. The Doctor said they might think that strange, though. She should have gone ahead â Rain thought they could get home-delivered pizza! Boy, she will take some acclimatising to Cosmos.
I wonder if she plays chess? I wonder if sheâll want to be friends, even though Iâm a boy and younger?
Counsellor Diana said not to expect too much from the aliens. She said their ways may be different. She said they may not even stay. People do rather tend to leave Cosmos. I have noticed this. It could be the hostile environment, the lack of sufficient entertainment pods and employment for young colonisers.
I hope they do stay. Iâd be friends with any kid next door within a reasonable age range. Their gender wouldnât worry me. Anyway, if sheâs as old as she said, why isnât she taller? And why hasnât she got female signs developing? She looked just like a boy. And sheâs not much taller than I am.
I think the alien lied about her age.
I hope the alien lied about her age. I hope sheâs not a snobby city girly girl. There are lots of things I could show her that might interest her â the platypus in the river, the best yabbying place, the McMaster alpacas and where Dad and I saw the echidna last month.
Two minutes until lights extinguished and sleep pod activated. Lights still burning on Ship 7. I wonder if sheâs up writing on the fridge? Poets work at night, I believe. One minute and Counsellor Diana is
I canât actually remember the old woman dying â well, thatâs not so surprising, is it? She died there â let me just check with Mum â yep, about four years ago. Planet 7 wasnât under surveillance by the USS Endeavour then. In fact, that was the year I collected stamps. Or was it the year I panned for gold? Anyway, sometime later the first aliens arrived. They didnât stay long. Too cold, they said, atmosphere hostile, nutrients expensive, company dismal, and they moved up the highway. Pity, they had a son who played chess, like me, and, like me, hated sport.
The next colonisers were a dead loss, too. A couple of girls, practically teenagers. All they did was sit out in the sun all day and paint their toenails and dry their hair. They were living away from the mother ship for the first time. Males of their species kept arriving in hotted-up starships and driving recklessly away long after my bedtime.
Then there was the strange alien, the one we simply had to place under surveillance because he was so unreadable. Thatâs when Planet 7 got its name and thatâs when I started this Log. Despite all my efforts, I could find no reason why he shouldnât stay on Planet 7 and do his work. It turned out, after months of close watching, that he was an artist, that was all. Of course this rather shocked the larger population of Cosmos, but Iâm afraid thatâs what Cosmos is like â a system occupied by the mediocre, the plain stupid, the incurious and the aged. Present company excepted, of course.
The Captainâs Log, Stardate 140901
The aliens arrived. Both females. One is Counsellor Dianaâs age, the other is more my age. I climbed the observation tower knowing that the smaller female would eventually check out the back territory. I was not disappointed. First contact was friendly.
Her nameâs Rain, not after the astronomer in Futureâs End, Star Trek, Voyager, Season 3, but after a poem. Sheâs heavily into poetry. She writes fridge poetry. I donât know anyone who writes poetry. They tried to make us do it at school but the Klingons wrote obscene limericks instead.
Counsellor Diana thought about taking them soup. The Doctor said they might think that strange, though. She should have gone ahead â Rain thought they could get home-delivered pizza! Boy, she will take some acclimatising to Cosmos.
I wonder if she plays chess? I wonder if sheâll want to be friends, even though Iâm a boy and younger?
Counsellor Diana said not to expect too much from the aliens. She said their ways may be different. She said they may not even stay. People do rather tend to leave Cosmos. I have noticed this. It could be the hostile environment, the lack of sufficient entertainment pods and employment for young colonisers.
I hope they do stay. Iâd be friends with any kid next door within a reasonable age range. Their gender wouldnât worry me. Anyway, if sheâs as old as she said, why isnât she taller? And why hasnât she got female signs developing? She looked just like a boy. And sheâs not much taller than I am.
I think the alien lied about her age.
I hope the alien lied about her age. I hope sheâs not a snobby city girly girl. There are lots of things I could show her that might interest her â the platypus in the river, the best yabbying place, the McMaster alpacas and where Dad and I saw the echidna last month.
Two minutes until lights extinguished and sleep pod activated. Lights still burning on Ship 7. I wonder if sheâs up writing on the fridge? Poets work at night, I believe. One minute and Counsellor Diana is
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