On one particular run ashore, a while back, Nia overheard this spoken in or near the markets. She happened to be on crutches that time (as the previous coffee run didn’t go so well) and had a lot to carry, so her hands were full and yet she took notes as she always does so carefully:
“As in a voyage, when the ship is at anchor, if you go on shore to get water you may amuse yourself with picking up a shellfish, or an onion, in your way, but your thoughts ought to be bent towards the ship, and perpetually attentive lest the captain should call, and then you must leave all these things, that you may not be thrown into the vessel, bound neck and heels like a sheep: thus likewise in life, if, instead of an onion or a shellfish, such a thing as a wife or a child be granted you, there is no objection; but if the captain calls, run to the ship, leave all these things, regard none of them. But if you are old, never go far from the ship: lest, when you are called, you should be unable to come in time.”
I was only on an errand, a quick run ashore. I’m the crew’s errand-runner when we must go to ground. That is what I do. I run for kitty litter, coffee, and knowledge. And sometimes directions.
I’m only here to return some library books and pay whatever late fines may have accrued but I cannot find the library. So I guess I’m looking for directions now too.
The librarian herself ever so kindly recommended them — these scrolls — and I should like to thank her if she’s still there. I was looking for directions then too. She was extremely helpful and knowledgeable. I don’t know if we would have found our way without her assistance, especially since we were short on time and I couldn’t get too far from our vessel. I barely had time to wander in the streets and the markets when we came ashore that time. The library was magnificent though, as was the librarian who helped me. I would like to repay her kindness and knowledge and also augment it. We’ve filled in some gaps during our travels as our navigator keeps excellent notes. I probably wouldn’t even be here to return these if she didn’t. You’ve drifted some since then but Nia, our navigator, knows how to compensate. This place has gone around your local star some 1607 times or so since I borrowed these and so your star itself has drifted just a bit — from here to here. See? — Nia’s provided the relevant notes and formulae here as well as the subsequent new position of your local star on the charts, relative, of course, to the center of this particular galaxy, not necessarily relative to everything else out there we know to be spinning.
We didn’t leave the neighborhood, really, galactically speaking. In the first… — Oh, what do you call it here? — A thousand laps of your beautiful planet around its sun? — ah, millennium; In the first millennium after our last visit we only meandered about this far out but we high-tailed it back this way in a little more than 600 revs — Or, what do you say here? — six centuries. We’d planned to come back this way sooner actually. I told the kind and helpful librarian, — Oh, I wrote her name down here somewhere on the card… — Hypatia, that we’d be back in about 900 revs, or nine of your centuries, but then we went here and there and got pulled off our course and added to our itinerary a bit and… well, that’s kind of what we do. It’s our forté you could say. We explore. We fill beautiful libraries like hers with new knowledge and maps. We expand.
I gladly promised Hypatia that we’d share all that we could gather for her and her library when I returned your scrolls. They were very helpful. Plus of course pay any late fees we may owe for the extra 700 revs or so. What should I expect to trade Hypatia, or her library if she’s no longer there, for the extra seven centuries of borrowed time? We have lots of data to share.
Oh, and could you tell me where I could get coffee, preferably by the ton if I may? I promised the crew I’d do my best to track down some of the good stuff. We’re heading out on a longer voyage this time.
Visit Nia’s Chart Table.