Fly Away
You walk past them every day, but you've never taken the time before, to stop and look at a charter listings console. Today, clearly, is different. You stop outside the charter booths. Small, diamond shaped panes of colourful glass separate each small chamber, some more opaque than others. Just enough to afford some privacy while still letting anyone outside know that a booth is occupied.
Hesitantly, you step inside, into the multicoloured light. Immediately, a light in the ceiling illuminates, slowly increasing in brightness from ambient to bright enough to read by.
“いらっしゃいませ！” An automated voice makes you jump as the screen illuminates with listings in a language you can't read. “どんな御用でしょうか？”
You try to calm your heart rate. You're not sure why you feel like you're being caught doing something wrong. You're just checking the travel listings. There's nothing wrong with that. Right?
“English, please,” you say. A small, spinning clock icon appears on the screen.
“Welcome,” the voice says, “How can I assist you?” Alabaster dialect. The standard form of English here on Luna.
“I'd like to see travel listings please,” you say, a little nervously.
“Which destination do you require?”
“Neptune.”
The spinning clock appears on the screen again for a moment. “I have found 27 ships departing soon, with Neptune on their itinerary. 3 ships travelling directly. 108 ships scheduled to depart within one week.”
“Can you show me the ones departing soon?”
The screen fills with text listings of ships. Couriers. Passenger transports. Trade vessels. A couple of salvagers. You look at the list of ship names. Ultraviolet Catastrophe. Ishtar's Tear. Whispering Nautilus. Zenobia. A few others, written in languages you can't read. Your eye settles on a name you like.
“Tell me about the Banshee's Wail,” you say.
“Banshee's Wail. Wyvern class light freight vessel. 10 crew members. 4 listed passengers. Space for up to 20 additional passengers. Captained by Rachida Okafor.”
“How do I reserve a space?”
“Reserving a space on vessel, Banshee's Wail.”
“Wait, no!” you splutter.
“One cabin space reserved on Banshee's Wail. Destination: Neptune. Departure scheduled for 17 hours from now. Space will be reserved until departure from Luna.”
“Wait,” you say, “I made a mistake. Cancel the reservation.”
“I'm sorry,” the voice says in calm an unnaturally cheerful tone, “cancellations must be made directly with ship personnel. The Banshee's Wail is docked to hangar D-27.” Well. Now you've done it.
You stumble out of the charter booth. Did you really just reserve a place on a ship going to Neptune? You look up, to see a sign in the corridor, amongst some Jacaranda trees. It points towards the hangars.
No, this is ridiculous. You can't go to Neptune. You have... You stop and think about it. You work remotely, doing freelance work. You could do that anywhere.
You've always wanted to visit Neptune. You've heard that the geyser plains on Triton are beautiful, and the Neptunian cloud cities in those swirling blue clouds are some of the most newly constructed in the entire System. The accommodation there is said to be extremely luxurious.
But what about your friends here on Luna? You think about it. Torin has barely spoken to you since he got a boyfriend. Yelena left last month to go to one of the Venusian cloud cities. Your other friends here on Luna live in different cities anyway, so you're already long distance friends. Your family have been telling you for years that you should travel more. And they all live on Ganymede anyway.
The more you think about it, the more you realise that there's nothing keeping you here. And it's possible for you to travel anywhere you want to. So why not?
You head home to your apartment to pack a suitcase. A large one.