Jed didn’t know what to say to that. The fact that the normal response to his crime had not been followed gave him hope that he might still avoid permanent exile in the wastelands, where he would be helpless among the society’s worst criminals. He just stared back at Rheems, not wanting to say anything that might make his case worse.
“But…” Conrad said, exhaling heavily, “there are some problems going on in the exile lands right now, and we can’t get any Transport vehicles in or out. So we have to decide what to do with you and Rios short of just casting you into Oklahoma.”
Jed spent the next thirty minutes squirming in his chair. Rheems looked up from his work occasionally and scowled whenever Jed would inadvertently bang his knee against the desk or knock his elbow against the chair next to him. The area where the catheter had been placed itched and irritated him, and he kept imagining the ship leaving for New Pennsylvania without him. Conrad had, according to Rheems, “gone to see the magistrate,” whatever that meant, and Jed was left to cool his heels, hanging perilously between the possibility of being exiled for life to Oklahoma, and some other fate he could not even imagine.
When Conrad returned to the security office, he didn’t waste any time letting Jed know that his fate had been determined.
“Okay, get up. Get your shoes on. Looks like you got really lucky. You’re going on your trip. The magistrate has decided to send you on to New Pennsylvania and remand your case over to the court there. We’re not allowed to hold you here indefinitely, and we can’t get any form of transport into the exile lands, so grab whatever belongs to you and let’s get you on your ship.”
Jed slipped on his shoes, and when he stood up, Hugh Conrad was standing only inches from him. The older man leaned in toward him in a way that seemed threatening. Jed wondered if the man had somehow seen the gold coin in his shoe. No. There’s no way he could have seen it.
“Be glad you’ll be asleep all the way to New PA, pal,” Conrad said. “That way you can’t get yourself into any more trouble.”
The remainder of the boarding process passed in a flash compared to the torture of waiting in the security office to learn of his fate. As Jed walked into the ship, his heart pounded and his palms grew clammy and damp. An attendant, seeing that he was nervous, led him to his pod and helped him to settle in. The pods on this level were aligned not unlike the benches on the airbus that brought him to West Texas. Rather than rudimentary seats, however, the pods themselves were egg-shaped cocoons with heavy lids that could be closed once the passenger was lying inside and the takeoff process was about to begin. Each pod lid had a large glass window embedded in it so that the passengers who chose the active monitoring option could be checked regularly during the duration of the flight. Jed thought it strange that there were Transport employees who would make the flight in Earth time and, other than the regular kind of daily sleep, would remain awake for the entire voyage. This meant that they were giving up almost a decade of their lives to the one interstellar flight that they would ever make. It’s a good thing these flights are subsidized, Jed thought. No one could afford the trip otherwise.
Jed’s ticket had cost him five hundred thousand unis. He expected that he might have to spend another two hundred thousand in transit. Converted back into Amish money, a man couldn’t even build a really good barn for that amount of money.
Before receiving the extra unis from Dawn, Jed had always figured he’d be broke upon arriving in New Pennsylvania, just like his ancestors had been when they first came to America. His land, if he qualified, would eventually be free. He was planning to live and work with his boyhood friend Matthias until he could build his own place. The Plain People took care of their own, so he knew if he could ever get to the AZ on his new planet, he’d be taken care of.
The nurse hooked up his life-support system, attached a tube to his catheter, and typed on some kind of computer screen that was built into the wall of the pod. Jed heard a beep, and then he felt a slight buzz of vibration emanating from the band on his wrist. He looked up at the nurse with a look of concern on his face, and she smiled back at him.
“That’s just to indicate that your account has been charged the additional one hundred thousand unis to pay for active monitoring. You chose this option when you paid for your ticket, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, good. We’ll leave the lid open until we’re just about ready to take off. Whenever you’re set to go under, press the blue button near your right hand and you’ll be out in less than a minute. A lot of people choose to go under immediately. I think it eliminates the short period of worry that people have at the beginning of any journey, and it makes the flight seem shorter to them. So, whenever you’re ready, just hit the button, and when you open your eyes again, you’ll be in New Pennsylvania!”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He looked up at her, and he knew that the worry that he felt was not only his concern about being turned over to the courts when he got to his new home planet. Deep inside of him, perhaps unrecognized and unexamined until now, was a fear that the ship would never get to New Pennsylvania at all.
That’s why he’d paid for active monitoring, even though the Amish colonization agent had advised him against it. He felt safer knowing that someone who was awake would check on him regularly to make sure nothing had gone wrong with his life-support system. Maybe doing it had showed a lack of faith, but it definitely made him feel better about the trip.
“Ma’am… have you or the pilots… well… have any of you done this before?”
The nurse laughed. “No. No one on this flight has ever done this before, sir. It’s a one-way flight, remember?”
“Yes. I suppose.”
“Don’t worry now. It’s as safe a trip as Transport, with all their technology and expertise, can make it. Everything is run by computers anyway. You’ll open your eyes and it’ll feel like you’ve just had a good night’s rest, and we’ll be there.”
“Okay. And thank you.”
“No problem. Get some sleep, and I’ll see you on the other side.”
The nurse walked away, and as she did, Jed tapped his toe and remembered that the gold coin was still in his shoe. He knew he was still going to be in trouble when… if… he ever made it to New Pennsylvania, and he didn’t want to add to his crimes.
Without taking much time to think about it or debate with himself, he leaned forward and removed the coin from his shoe. He looked around to see if anyone was watching him, but everyone he could see was either already unconscious, or was busy preparing for the flight. He felt around under his chair with his right hand, and he found a tight joint between the chair pad and the frame. He pressed the gold coin into the gap and felt around the joint with his finger to make sure the coin didn’t stick out where it might be seen by a nurse checking on him during the long years of flight.
Moments later, he was glad he’d taken the coin out of his shoes. The same attendant came back through the level and asked everyone for their shoes. She took each pair and placed it in a spring-loaded box that was attached to the base of each pod. When she took Jed’s shoes, she smiled at him and said, “There now, you look better already!”
He watched as she finished out the level and then disappeared through a curtain.
Lying there, he couldn’t figure out a reason to stay awake any longer. He was already sick with worry, and he knew if he decided to lie there awhile, he’d fret about what was going to happen to him when the flight was over.