After the funeral, John’s mood was sombre, but strangely light – and he followed the others to their common room to discuss what happened next. 

 

                Hortencia looked at the schematics of the Hyperion on a data slate – a kind of tablet computer – and sighed.  “We’re going to need a Tug, Bear.”

 

                “Da.  I figured as much.  Will take three to four hours to get one here, probably another seven to get ship to wreckers.  Long day.”  Bear replied.  “I’ll go to bridge and make call.”

 

                Drago nodded.  “Anything for us to do, big guy?”

 

                “No…  I’ll fly us to Traltha downport and park.  We wait a while, and when ship gets to wreckers, they wire us the money.”

 

                “Okay.”  Drago looked tired.  “I’ll probably get some sleep.  I need to find Herc, too – he’s been gone all day.”

 

                Hortencia smiled.  “Like you said earlier, he’s probably in the engine room.”

 

                “I’ll look there first.”  Drago laughed.  “Good night all.”

 

                “Goodnight.”  John replied.

 

                Bear nodded and got up to head to the bridge, to make the call, and fly them into Traltha, leaving Hortencia and John alone for the moment.

 

                Hortencia looked John up and down – for a moment he was wondering if she was checking him out – and then smiled.  “You’re more than a little out of your depth, aren’t you.”

 

                John smiled at the joke.  “What gave you that idea?”

 

                She smiled back.  “You’re not a civilian, are you?  They trained you for your mission well, right?”

 

                “It might be fairer to say I trained me for my mission, so that I could capture a slot on board, and then they finished my training.”  John replied. 

 

                Hortencia nodded.  “Good – you’re motivated.  That will help.  I wanted to talk to you, to try and figure out what level your skills are at, so I know what to recommend to get you up to speed.”

 

                “What do you mean?”  John wasn’t sure what she meant by the level of his skills.

 

                “Well, since the Empire is made up of thousands of lost colonies, and all these different colonies have different levels of technology, we rank them – big shock – by ‘Tech Level’.  Tech level six is when radio and antibiotics are developed, when combustion engines come into their full use, and so on.  Tech level eight is when a world wide datanet is often developed, in tandem with computers and other technologies like cellular communicators.  Space flight in system is possible but not easy at that point.

Tech level nine is when some colonies developed gravitic drives for use in system, and ‘air cars’ replace ground cars, and computers are so advanced that they begin to mimic AI.  Tech level ten is when basic Biosculpt becomes available, and the first Jump Drives begin appearing in use.  At Tech Levels 11 and higher the technology just gets smaller, faster, and better refined.  The highest Tech level in the Empire is fifteen – and some of the things people can do with tech at that point are just amazing, but ninety percent of the Empire is somewhere between Tech Level 6 and Tech Level 12, which means once I can place where your skills are at, I can determine what we’ll have to teach you in sims to ‘get up to speed’.”

 

                John thought a moment over the huge amount of information Hortencia had just shared.  If what she said was true, his skills might just still be useful – especially if a huge chunk of the empire had a 1950’s to 2010’s level of technology.  “I think from what you said, my umm… Tech Level might be somewhere around eight or nine.  Earth was experimenting with Gravitics at the time, but the technology was unproven.  We had very advanced computers, a planetary datanet and more.  We were probably closer to Tech level nine.  We didn’t have Jump drives or biosculpt.  What is biosculpt anyway?”

 

                “It’s a different way of doing plastic surgery, via genetics rather than implants, surgery and so forth.  I’ve never had any, but apparently how it works is that it alters your genetics so that you look the way you want to, without needing to cut into your body or have toxic implants placed in you.  It was a revolution in medicine that ended a lot of illnesses, and allowed doctors to regenerate severed limbs and spinal cords, and so forth.  It was around that time that a lot of diseases were cured via genetic sciences too.  The ultimate example so far of how far genetic science has come is Prolong – an age retardant treatment that pretty much doubles or triples the human lifespan.  It’s not available everywhere, and where it is available it isn’t cheap – but it is within reach of many middle class families that are lucky enough to live on a high tech world.”

 

                Oh my god!  John thought.  This biosculpt sounds perfect!  It probably costs a fortune, though.  Something must have crossed his face, because Hortencia was watching him intently.

 

                “You seem interested in Biosculpt.  Not happy with your appearance, John?”  Hortencia looked curious.

 

                John looked down at the table.  “Yeah, I guess I am, Hortencia.  Back on Earth, I was trans – it means I was born one gender, and felt like I should have been the opposite gender.  I had to hide it to qualify for the Hyperion flight.  It would have disqualified me due to physical and mental disability.”

 

                “Disability?  What kind of primitive morons were they?”  She replied, rather incensed!  “Just get the appropriate treatment and move on.  What’s the big deal?”  Hortencia honestly didn’t seem to understand why it was a big deal for John, or the Hyperion Project.

 

                “I guess the big deal at the time was part religion, part bigotry.  A lot of people felt being trans was against god’s will – and a lot of people thought it was a mental illness and just weird and would rather pretend it didn’t exist.  I would have been disqualified from Hyperion because close to fifty percent of trans people who are untreated had major psychological issues, and even tried to commit suicide.”

 

                “Eww.  Dark Forces save me from religious people!”  Hortencia swore.  “Seriously, religion is crazy.  I think you’ll find its just as insane now as it was then, but in different ways.  Trust me, unless religion or planetary customs get in the way, most people don’t even find this trans to be an issue – they just make sure those affected get treatment and move on with their lives.  I don’t think it’s even all that well known anymore.”

 

                John smiled.  “That’s comforting.  Any idea on how much it costs?”

 

                “Not really, John – but if you like, you could look it up on the ships computers.  Your terminal in your cabin is linked to the ships library, which has information on most of this sector.  Feel free to browse around.”

 

                “Um, Hortencia – I don’t mean to pry, but do people swear to the Dark Forces much?”

 

                Now it was Hortencia’s turn to look down at the table.  “Um, not really.  My family has different traditions than most.  We’re not like most other people, and we like it that way.  It’s sort of a cultural thing from when we emigrated from old Earth.”

 

                “Could you tell me about it?”  John asked, a bit curious.

 

                “I guess.  It began when my ancestors realized the Earth was dying.  Some of them wanted to stay and revel in the death throes, feeding off the misery of others – but some wanted to see what the stars had to offer – you know, spread the light of darkness across the stars, so that the rest of humanity would remember to be scared?  That sort of thing.”  Hortencia paused.  John was listening intently, so she continued.  “We went to space, and travelled the stars – and eventually we settled down in the Glisten Subsector, on the planet Caledonia.  That was eight hundred and forty years ago, and we’ve been living there ever since.”

               

                “Your family sounds a little strange compared to most.”  John said after a moment.

 

                “Yeah, well I’m an Addams.  It comes with the territory.”

 

                “Addams – as in the Addams Family?  With Morticia and Gomez and Lurch?” 

               

                Hortencia started a bit.  “You knew of my family?”

 

                “Well, most of us thought it was a movie – a vid, and not real.  They thought it was made up.”

 

                Hortencia grinned – and it looked more than a bit feral. Her voice took on a darker tone, too.  “That’s the best way to hide, John.  Right in plain sight.  That way if anyone ever found one of us, they would write it off as a made up fantasy.  After all, monsters aren’t real – right John?” 

 

                John shuddered, and realized Hortencia wasn’t kidding.  She actually thought she was descended from the Addam’s family from Earths old vids and movies.  He wondered for a moment if it was truly possible – what she said, hiding in plain sight?  He wasn’t sure – but from the feral look on Hortencia’s face, he knew she believed it. 

 

                “Are your family monsters, Hortencia?”  he asked nervously. 

 

                “Compared to humans?”  She asked.  “Hardly.  We just want to live and be left alone.  The rest of humanity is capable of far more evil than any of us could consider.  Seriously, we’re small potatoes compared to what wars and bureaucracy combined with apathy can accomplish.  Addams are survivors, John – we survive anything.  Just remember that, John.”

 

                “Uh… yeah.”  John felt more than a bit intimidated by Hortencia.  This intensity she was showing was unusual for her, at least with what he’d seen of her so far.  “So…  If you’re family is so private, why do you fly with Drago and Bear?”

 

                Hortencia’s demeanor shifted, and she got perky and happy again.  “Well, in my family, we have a tradition of Naval Service – most of the kids eventually apply for the Imperial Navy and see how long it takes for us to wash out.  I lasted all the way to graduation day and beyond.  I actually received a rank and was placed on a destroyer – ‘The Elusive’ – and served there for two years before I was dishonourably discharged.”

 

                “That’s a good thing?”  John asked, surprised.

 

                “It is in my family.”  Hortencia replied.  “I got kicked out of the navy for repeatedly disobeying orders and replacing the plants in hydroponics with toxic ones.  I wasn’t trying to poison anyone – but they actually process CO2 like 50% better than many normal plants.  It just so happens I’d still be on the Elusive, I think, if the captain’s son hadn’t eaten the Hemlock berries.  So he had some kidney problems and nearly died?  It was his own fault – he shouldn’t be eating poison!”

 

                John had to admit, it did sound like an Addams family problem.  “So you were discharged?” 

 

                “Yup!”  She replied with pride. “Dishonorably!”

 

                John shook his head.  This was one strange crew.  “So now you’re with Bear and Drago why?”

 

                Hortencia looked bashful and shy for a moment, and blushed a bit.  “I met Drago on the Elusive.  He was a marine, and I was a wet behind the ears navy puke.  He was kind to me, and didn’t run like most others.  I uh… I like Drago.  I was hoping he might join the family one day.”

 

                “Does he know?  About the Addams family customs?”

 

                She looked upset.  “No. I’m worried he’ll get scared and freak out, honestly.”  She looked at John.  “Please don’t tell him, whatever you think you know.”

 

                “I won’t, Hortencia.  Just be aware that if your family is for real, it will be an acquired taste for many normal people.  Give him time to adjust to you.”  Now I’m giving relationship advice to a young Addams – what the hell is going on? He thought.  I should be scared witless – and she does make me nervous – but she also seems like any other young woman with a crush.  She can’t be that bad.

 

                “I am.  I have.   It’s complicated.”  Hortencia sighed.  “I’m just afraid I guess.  Thanks for having some girl chat with me, John.”

 

                “Girl chat?”

 

                “Well, I’m a girl.  You want to be a girl.  We had a talk, some of it about a boy – you know, girl chat.”

 

                John couldn’t help but grin.  “I guess we did.  I guess we did.  Huh.  So, do you need anything more about my skill levels?”

 

                “Nah.”  Hortencia replied.  “I figure you’re like you said – somewhere between Tech level eight and nine.  I’ll spend a few hours and put together a few teaching sims on a chip for you, so you can get your skills up to speed as quickly as possible, and we’ll see how that goes.  I’ll have it for you sometime tomorrow.”

 

                “Okay.  Thanks, Hortencia.”

 

                “No problem, John.  Can I ask you a question now?”

 

                “Sure. Go ahead.”

 

                “You want to be a girl, right?  Have you picked out a name?  John doesn’t sound very feminine.”  Hortencia now seemed like the talk had shifted to gossip and chatter, and was enjoying their exchange.

 

                “I’m partial to Sarah – which was my grandmothers name, and what my mom would have named me if I was a girl – but I also like Heather and Samantha.  I haven’t decided yet.”

 

                “Well if you want any help, I’d love to help out!”

 

                “Thanks Hortencia.  I’ll think about it.  It’s a really personal thing for me.”

 

                “I understand.  Hey!  Did you know that the avatar creator for the Sims we use can be used to design rough templates for biosculpt?  You should totally try designing what you want to look like for when you can afford bioscuplt.  It’ll be fun!  If you want, I’ll help get you set up!”

 

                John didn’t know what to say to that, except agree.  “Sure – I’ll probably need a little help figuring out your computer system and its interface for a while anyway.  We could do that.  Um, Hortencia.  Could I borrow a couple of hair ties to keep my hair out of my face?”

 

                “Sure John.  Come to my room, and I’ll grab you a few.”

 

                John followed Hortencia to her room, and took the proffered hair tie, putting it in his hair.  Suddenly, the long brown locks were tied back in a decent approximation of a pony tail, and John could see again.  Hortencia’s room was nicely decorated – with pictures of some friends from the navy, some pictures of family that looked eerily like they might really be Addams, and a few pots of plants that looked like flowering weeds. 

 

                “Stay away from those plants, John.  They have a phototoxin on their leaves.  You’d get burned.”  Hortencia warned.

 

                John pulled back from the strange plants.  “Then why have them here?  Aren’t you afraid you’ll get burned too?”

 

                “Not really, John.  Most of my family is immune to the effects of poisons, and most diseases.  They’re just pretty flowers to me.  I was just worried about you.”

 

                “Thanks, Hortencia.  I appreciate that.  Are you really immune to toxins?”

 

                “Yeah – and let me tell you, keeping that out of my medical records in the naval academy was no easy task.”

 

                John thought about that a bit, and realized it probably would be pretty damn hard to hide.  “Is it weird, not being like everyone else?”

 

                “No.  Most people spend their whole lives trying to not be one of the crowd, trying to be different.  An Addams is born different.  We just embrace it and run with it, instead of hiding it like some people.”

 

                John didn’t know how to reply to that.  In a way it was true – but it was equally twisted in a strange way.  “Still want to help me figure out my avatar?”

 

                “Yeah!  That would be awesome, John!”  Hortencia looked pleased, and eager.  “Let’s go – I’ll get you set up at the computer in your room.  Just remember one thing, missy.”

 

                “What’s that?”  John asked.

 

                “Drago is mine.”  Hortencia didn’t look like she was joking – she looked deadly serious.

 

                “Understood.  Drago is yours.”  John replied.  “I wouldn’t get between you and him, I promise.”

 

                “Good. Thanks, John.”

 

                With that, John and Hortencia headed to John’s cabin, and fired up the computer.

 

                The program appeared to be similar to many avatar creators back on old Terra – but it was far more advanced with hundreds of options and abilities to modify the final image.  The graphics of the terminal were photo-realistic too, so it looked indistinguishable from a picture of a real human being.  John could tell this was going to take a long time – maybe days – to tweak to ‘just right’. 

 

                “The computer looks really advanced.” He said to Hortencia, who was hovering over his shoulder while he was seated at the terminal.

 

                “It is, compared to what you’re used to.  You’ll love the sims too, when you get a chance to explore them – they’re really cool.”  She spent several minutes explaining the interface, and how to interact with the computer.

 

                “Good to know. Thanks for the help, Hortencia.”  John knew broadly what he wanted for an appearance, but he couldn’t think with Hortencia staring over his shoulder.  He was too self conscious and embarrassed. “Um, Hortencia?  I really appreciate your enthusiasm, but I’m a little embarrassed about doing this with you here.  I guess in some way I’m still ashamed I’m like this.  Would you mind letting me work on this alone for now?  I promise, if I show it to anyone, I’ll show it to you first.”

 

                Hortencia looked at John, and took his shoulders in her hands.  “Never be ashamed for who you are, John.  Never.”  The conviction in her voice was absolute, like it was learned from years of self doubt.  “Whatever creator exists made you this way – you have nothing to be ashamed of.  Be you.”  With that said, she let go, and headed to the door of John’s room.  “I would like to see the new you, John – when you’re ready.”

 

                John turned to see Hortencia go.  “Thanks – I appreciate the advice.”

 

                “No worries, John.”  Hortencia left, leaving John along in the room.

 

                He turned back towards the computer, and sat for a moment.  I shouldn’t be ashamed, should I?  he thought.  It’s not my fault I’m this way.  All I want is to be happy and not feel like a freak in my own body.  Is that so wrong?  He turned from his musings and looked at the avatar program.   Maybe I should make what I see in my minds eye?  The real me?  John realized there was no reason not to, and a dozen reasons to do so.  He began.