"Okay. You're all strapped in. Remember," the researcher said, turning to face the tiny figure in the seat, who was fussing and pulling at the straps on its harness. It stopped fidgeting to watch her hand lifting from her pocket, depositing a cranberry on the dashboard. "You ready to go, Sam?"
As it had been trained, the small monkey flashed his large canine teeth in a gruesome approximation of a human smile, chirping in response. His tiny paws reached for the joysticks, specially calibrated for his diminutive size. His feet gripped onto similar button-laden sticks below."Good," she said. She adjusted the helmet on the primate's face. "Okay, Sam. Test it for me. Open Navigation."
Sam turned his head, and the sensors inside his helmet correctly picked up where his eyes' focus lay, opening the Navigation panel and flicking through nearby destinations. With a brusque movement the researcher snapped open the helmet's visor, deposited a cranberry into Sam's waiting mouth, then snapped it shut again. "There aren't many cops around there," she muttered aloud, brows furrowing. Sam's eyes narrowed, trying to focus on the sounds she was making with her mouth. Ever since he'd fallen asleep one day, he'd woken up being able to understand them, sometimes. Comprehension came and went. The more sounds they made, the harder it was to understand. "Wait for the red marks, Sam."
Red Marks, he thought. It was a remarkable thing, for a monkey to think in words. Red Marks. The panel next to him that showed pictures sometimes -- It had to show some orange marks, and some red ones, too. Then the lightshow could start! Sam looked up, baring his fangs again. He chirped. She sighed.
"Come home safe, OK Sam?"
Fabian City's lights glittered like so many stars, but close and constantly moving. Yellow trucks cut along their paths overhead on giant rings of asphalt. Sam spent a few seconds staring at the trucks and the yellow landing pad's indicator, pulsing bright against the green and silver station walls. He did not know what any of it meant. I like yellow. All at once, he noticed he was alone in the cockpit. A loud clunk reverberated through his head. "Ship released," said The Voice. "Engines engaged." Sam trilled, his little hand flicking several switches and turning dials out of muscle memory. "Landing gear retracted," it stated. Pushing ahead on the throttle was as natural to him as leaping onto a tree -- Not that Sam had ever seen a tree.
First, he aligned himself with the small slot ahead. Sam liked the slot, it made noises and glowed. Passing through, he flashed his teeth before pushing the ship forward. Everything Sam knew was a succession of colours and shapes. First the blue had to go away. Then the yellow had to get big. Then he had to fit the red triangle in the yellow circle. The Voice always said something about a 'Friendship Drive.' Those words did not make sense inside Sam's head, but he looked forward to them anyway. Blue curls filled his vision, and for a second, he tried to reach out and touch them. That never worked, though.
//end pt I
As it had been trained, the small monkey flashed his large canine teeth in a gruesome approximation of a human smile, chirping in response. His tiny paws reached for the joysticks, specially calibrated for his diminutive size. His feet gripped onto similar button-laden sticks below."Good," she said. She adjusted the helmet on the primate's face. "Okay, Sam. Test it for me. Open Navigation."
Sam turned his head, and the sensors inside his helmet correctly picked up where his eyes' focus lay, opening the Navigation panel and flicking through nearby destinations. With a brusque movement the researcher snapped open the helmet's visor, deposited a cranberry into Sam's waiting mouth, then snapped it shut again. "There aren't many cops around there," she muttered aloud, brows furrowing. Sam's eyes narrowed, trying to focus on the sounds she was making with her mouth. Ever since he'd fallen asleep one day, he'd woken up being able to understand them, sometimes. Comprehension came and went. The more sounds they made, the harder it was to understand. "Wait for the red marks, Sam."
Red Marks, he thought. It was a remarkable thing, for a monkey to think in words. Red Marks. The panel next to him that showed pictures sometimes -- It had to show some orange marks, and some red ones, too. Then the lightshow could start! Sam looked up, baring his fangs again. He chirped. She sighed.
"Come home safe, OK Sam?"
Fabian City's lights glittered like so many stars, but close and constantly moving. Yellow trucks cut along their paths overhead on giant rings of asphalt. Sam spent a few seconds staring at the trucks and the yellow landing pad's indicator, pulsing bright against the green and silver station walls. He did not know what any of it meant. I like yellow. All at once, he noticed he was alone in the cockpit. A loud clunk reverberated through his head. "Ship released," said The Voice. "Engines engaged." Sam trilled, his little hand flicking several switches and turning dials out of muscle memory. "Landing gear retracted," it stated. Pushing ahead on the throttle was as natural to him as leaping onto a tree -- Not that Sam had ever seen a tree.
First, he aligned himself with the small slot ahead. Sam liked the slot, it made noises and glowed. Passing through, he flashed his teeth before pushing the ship forward. Everything Sam knew was a succession of colours and shapes. First the blue had to go away. Then the yellow had to get big. Then he had to fit the red triangle in the yellow circle. The Voice always said something about a 'Friendship Drive.' Those words did not make sense inside Sam's head, but he looked forward to them anyway. Blue curls filled his vision, and for a second, he tried to reach out and touch them. That never worked, though.
//end pt I