Today’s the day. Half of the current team roster is going off on a long-term
mission across Europe while the other half stays home to take care of things
here. Ramses is in the driver’s seat of The Olimpia, while Heath’s regular
car follows them down the road. Cars aren’t fully automated, but they can be
programmed to stay on the exact same route as the vehicle ahead of them.
It’s really just a fancy way of hitching it to the back. Flying cars such as
this one are not commonplace, but they still need laws and regulations to
operate safely. A driver can take it on any standard road, and float it in
any publicly-accessible body of water, but flying is a lot more difficult.
They’ll have to launch from an unpopulated area, and fly at a certain
altitude, though very specific routes called market corridors. The more
rural the area is under the vessel, the wider the corridor. Early versions
had to take off from airstrips, but the more advanced ones are built with
vertical take-off engines. So that wouldn’t be a problem, they mainly need
to get far enough away from the city.
“Don’t we need to play rock, paper scissors?” Marie asks.
Heath stops midway up the steps. “Uh...no.”
“Ramses says he wants to sleep in the control area,” Mateo says, “and I can
just use one of these little cubbies. You take the real bed, this isn’t a
negotiation.”
“I don’t really like it up there,” Marie claims.
Heath just keeps carrying her bags up to the loft as Mateo chuckles. “Yeah,
right.” He approaches her when he sees her frowning at him. “It’s okay for
people to take care of you. I know that that was your job in the afterlife
simulation, but surely you had your own counselor when you first died.”
“Yes, we did,” Angela confirms. “His name was Þorgeir.”
“I know that name,” Leona says, perking up. “Thor Thompson was named after
him.”
“He’s in good company,” Angela decides. She returns her attention to her
alternate self. “Take the loft. You know how much we hate to argue.”
Heath is already hanging her expandable shelf bag on the hook against the
outside of the shower room wall. “Thank you,” she says to the group.
“We’re here!” Ramses shouts all the way from the front. They’re in the
middle of nowhere outside Independence, facing the Missouri River. “It’s a
beautiful day, and this is a beautiful area! Let’s all say our goodbyes
before we lose the daylight!” He comes to a stop, turns the hazards on, and
comes to the back.
“How long is the first leg?” Mateo asks him.
“That depends on exactly where we’re going,” Ramses answers.
Leona projects a map of their itinerary onto the lav door. The first stop on
their fake vacation is Foggy Londontown. It occurs to Mateo that he still
doesn’t really understand how the U.S. works in this reality, but he really
doesn't know how other countries work. What might be waiting for them when
they land? The entire island of the United Kingdom does not exist, for
reasons they still don’t yet know. They’ll be investigating that in the
coming few days. What they discovered is that a few small islands do indeed
exist in the area where Great Britain should be, and they may hold answers.
“Okay, the coordinate system is a little different here, which means it took
some doing to draw from my own memory of main sequence geography, but I
believe I’ve found the approximate location of Stonehenge, or rather the
analog. Perhaps fittingly, if the mysterious rock formation existed here, it
would be found at awaited.passively.landings. That’s my best guess.”
“Await-a-what?” Angela asks.
“The traditional numerical coordinate system was abandoned centuries ago, in
favor of a lexical geocoding algorithm.”
“A-lexa-what?” Angela presses.
“A unique series of three random words are designated for a given square on
the map, which can be shared and pinpointed using proprietary mapping
software,” she says, which is just about as confusing. “For instance, where
the Olimpia happens to be parked right now, we’re located at
clashing.thrill.ultra.”
Ramses shows a nonchalant sort of pouty face. “I did that on purpose,” he
jokes.
Leona rolls her eyes “Well, each square is three meters wide, and the
vehicle is sixteen meters long, so where you were sitting up there is closer
to yawned.nephew.custard.”
“Yeah,” Ramses insists, “I love custard.”
“Where am I?” Mateo asks, stepping towards the seats.
“You’re at telegrams.patch.card.”
“Where’s that tree?” Angela offers, pointing out the window.
“Uh, I believe culprit.triads.enrolling.”
“Where is I.love.you?” Mateo asks, trying to be cute.
Leona tries it. She even substitutes the word eye for I. “Doesn’t exist; not
all word permutations do.”
“Oh,” Mateo is sad. “Well, what about—”
“You heard Ramses,” Heath interrupts. “You three better get going so you’re
not flying too late at night. No more time for games.”
“Well,” Leona goes on, “based on this system, my calculations, and your most
fuel-efficient cruising speed, you should arrive in about eleven hours.”
“Are we landing on an island?” Marie asks her.
“Well, awaited.passively.landings is in the middle of the water, but that’s
probably for the best, and there’s a resort not too far from there, where
Heath has two rooms booked for you. In fact, it will be past sunset by the
time you get there, so you might just wanna check in, and head for the
coordinates in the morning. It’s only a few hours away in boat mode. I
believe that the island is where the city of Bristol should be.”
“Did the island sink?” Heath guesses. “Is your Bristol at a particularly
high elevation?”
“Not that I can remember,” Angela answers. “The higher elevations were in
Scotland. They called them the highlands.”
“Why do we need a resort if we have this?” Ramses asks, indicating the whole
of the Olimpia.
“You’re on vacation,” Heath reminds him. “Try not to stand out. Do normal
things, like hiking, and museuming. I didn’t make reservations for you, but
there’s also a bike tour that goes all around that island, if you’re
interested.”
They discuss a few more details, but it really is time for them to leave, so
they make their farewells, and break in half. The away team uses the road as
a runway, instead of doing a true VTO, to save on fuel, and disappears into
the horizon.
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