"Debs, we have to go!" said Errol. He hated being late for anything. He always made sure that he was two hours early just to make sure in the even that he got lost, which was all the time, he would still be able to make it to there destination without missing anything.
Debs hated arriving on time. She had things to do, and even if these things were simply sitting on the couch wondering what her next emotion should be, she still needed the freedom of that time.
"We still have five hours! We don't need to be to the docking port until 9pm!"
"But we're in the middle of rush hour. You know what the trains will be like. It will be impossible just to make it to the station on time."
"We will be fine, just give me a few minutes to compose yourself," said Debs.
"Compose yourself? What are you doing that you need to compose yourself? What did you do all morning?" asked Errol.
"I had a bad night!"
"I can't help it if you were out late gallivanting!"
"I was home, watching TV, with you!" said Debs.
"Oh yea. Well, what time did you go to bed then?" asked Errol.
"I was in bed at… uh… "
"You didn't go to bed until 4 again, did you," said Errol.
"I had some stuff to get done," said Debs.
"Whatever. Look, you've had many hours for composing yourself. You packed last night. I heard you, banging about in your room, trying to keep everyone else in this apartment up. Now let's go!"
"But six months is a long time!'
"NOW you are worrying about this? Look, we had a good three days to worry about how long six months is, and it was you who had this idea in the first place! You were the one bouncing all over the walls that we were going to go on a space cruise and it was you saying, 'oh! I've never left this planet before' and calling all your friends and updating your status and whatnot. There is no point in getting cold feet now," said Errol.
"But, what happens if something happens during the six months that we are gone?" asked Debs.
"I'm sure that whatever happens, they'll be able to survive without our constant nagging. Come, let's go. Did you bring stuff to keep you entertained," said Errol.
Debs brought out a large suitcase and put it in front of her. Errol grabbed a hold and tried to lift it.
"What do you have in there?" asked Errol.
"Books," said Debs.
"Real ones?" asked Errol.
"ya," said Debs.
"Good grief, Debs! You can't bring real books! That alone will put our whole budget through the roof trying to get it on the ship! Remember how strict they are with the whole weight restriction… you know… trying to escape the gravity of a planet and all. We are going to be on a cruise ship with bookstores. They don't have access to the internet, but man, they have a lot of bookstores."
"And alcohol," said Debs.
"Yes, expensive alcohol. Watches and jewels too, from what I can remember. Anyway, I'm sure that you can get books when there!"
"I don't want to rebuy the books! I found these all at used bookstores! And they all smell really good too. Have you ever taken time to smell books, Errol? There is a whole history in their smell."
"Then read them when we come back! We have enough luggage with our instruments!"
"Oh, right. I forgot about those," said Debs.
"Good. So, minus the books, are you good to go?"
Debs nodded.
"Good, I asked Joseph to pick us up," said Errol.
"Oh, when is he arriving?" asked Debs.
"Well, in about five minutes," said Errol.
"Where's all your stuff?" asked Debs, looking confused. Errol turned around so she could see the backpack he was wearing. "That's it? How can that be it? Aren't you bringing clothes?"
"Sure I am." Errol shrugged. "I have a second pair of jeans in there. Besides, if we're playing every night I'll be wearing our T-Shirt all the time anyway. Why shouldn't I wear it all the time? It's good for marketing."
"You're way too obsessed with that T-Shirt," replied Debs, exasperated. "Well, I am bringing some normal clothes. And some of them might be sparkley."
"Okay Debs, you do that…just leave the books."
"Fine. She deftly unzipped the bag and rummaged through it, pulling out a battered copy of Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. "I've got to have at least one though. It's kind of…a comfort thing." She sighed and bit her lip. "Look, have I ever told you that I'm kinda of scared of space travel?"
"Yes, many times. In fact, in the last three days, you've been sending me articles on the hazards of interstellar space travel. Radiation poisoning, vaccuum death stories, conspiracy sites, you name it. Next time, I'm just cutting our internet."
The phone rang. Errol picked it up and then said, "We'll be down in a second."
Debs shoved the book into her coat pocket, picked up her bags and opened the door.
"You sure know how to comfort a gal," said Debs.
"If I wanted to be sensitive, we'd never get anywhere," said Errol.
"This is why you're single," said Debs.
"You come up with a different excuse every time," said Errol.
Twenty minutes later, Debs and Errol walked out of the apartment into a bright and sunny November day. Joseph was leaning casually against his black Volkswagen which was parked right at the entrance.
"Elevator problems?" asked Joseph, smirking at them.
"She lost her keys," Errol said, gesturing to Debs who was frantically thumbing through her passport for the thousantth time to make sure she had grabbed her current one and not the one that had expired.
"Say no more". Joseph had been friends with Debs for years; they had met while in their wild teens in line for the Star Wars prequels. He knew full well of her tendency to be late. He popped the trunk and grabbed bags out of Debs's hands.
"Luckily, I planned for this," Errol said, once they were settled and on their way. "The train actually leaves at 14:00, not 12:00. We have another two hours."
"You know sometimes, you're really mean," Debs said. "I could have used another hour or two to get packed."
"Weeeeeeeeeeeee," Joseph cried, juking quickly around an elderly couple crossing the street. "JOSEPH, WE HAVE TIME, YOU CAN SLOW DOWN!" Joseph had a thing for fast cars and a thing for driving them quickly. Joseph pouted, but slowed down. "Thanks," said Debs.
"Besides," said Errol, "you want to have one last bowl of pho downtown before we go, don't you?"
Debs brightened considerably.
***
Stuffed and staggering under the weight of Debs's bags, Debs and Errol walked into Union Station. Not only had they had pho, but Debs had insisted that they have a last scoop of Greg's Icecream before heading to the station. This was a considerable walk from their usual pho place, but Debs had insisted.
"After all, they won't have Greg's icecream in space. It's run by an American company."
In line, Debs examined the large shief of tickets while Errol looked up at the huge inflated horses hanging from the ceiling in the main hall of Union Station. The art piece, nicknamed "The Horses of the Apocalypse" had been commissioned for one of the creativity in the city deals sponsered by the banks. They were surprisingly popular and hadn't been taken down after the event was over.
"Errol!" Debs was tugging at his sleeve. "Time to go!"
***
"What now?" Errol asked after they disembarked in Sudbury a few hours later.
"Oh, he said he'd meet us," Debs said, scanning the crowd.
"Do you know what he looks like?"
"No, but he should know what we look like. After all, he's read the comics."
"The comics." Errol smacked his forehead "How are our fans going to survive without our daily comics?"
"You can draw comics as we go, and we'll post them five times a day when we get back, okay? Oh there he is!" Debs waved at a man across the room who tucked the sign he was holding over his arm and skipped gleefully over to them. He was darker skinned and dressed flamboyantly in the style of frequent space travelers, in a spangled orange jumpsuit with a mop of dark curls streaked with red.
"Hi, I'm Debs!"
"Of courz I know who you are," he said, kissing her deftly on both cheeks. "You look exactly like you do in your cartoon."
"Well thanks," said Debs, with a rueful smile. "But actually, it's Errol here who draws the comics. He's a great artist."
After shaking Errol's hand enthusiastically, their contact stepped back, a perplexed expression on his face. "You are quite an unexpected shape. From the comics, I thought you would be…well…taller? Rounder?"
Debs looked at Errol and shrugged. He looked pretty much normal to her - tallish with black, square glasses that he sometimes switched out for steampunk ones. His most noticeable feature was a characteristic grin that never left his face - Errol was perpetually happy and joyful.
"I dunno, Errol, you still look pretty Asian to me," Debs said.
"We're glad to meet you," Errol said. "Mr…"
"Bahjat. Call me It's Arabic".
"Bahjat. Sorry, Debs never tells me anything," Errol said, shooting Debs a dirty look.
"You can call me Merle though. Or whatever you want really. Anyway, shall we," he said, picking up a couple of bags.
Debs and Errol followed him. "Merle?" Errol mouthed to Debs, raising his eyebrows.
"No idea," Debs mouthed back.
***
"So, how did you start as a duo?" Merle asked. They were packed into his little two-door hybrid - Errol was in the front seat because Debs wanted to check through her bags to make sure that she didn't forget anything for the millionth time.
"Well, we'd been friends for a while and had written together before but we only really started performing together when a mutual friend asked us to. He owns a theatre company —"
"A geeky theatre company," Errol interjected.
"Yes, a geeky one," said Debs, "and he asked us to perform at his shows. So we took a whole bunch of Errol's geeky songs —"
"I'm a geek," said Errol.
"Yes, we know that. Anyway, we performed Errol's songs, along with some covers, and loved it so much that we kept writing and performing together."
"Sometimes the crowds can be kind of tough though, because they tend not to understand anything we say," said Errol, trying to resist playing with the buttons on the dashboard.
"—but we do normal songs too," Debs said quickly. "You know…for the normals."
"Yeah, depressing songs."
"They're not all depressing," Debs laughed awkwardly. "Merle, can you tell us a little bit about the itinerary?"
"Well, it's an intergalactic cruise, as you know. Mars, then a quick stopover on Io, above Jupiter, a tour or Saturn's rings, and then we jump on to the Andromeda and Triangulum galaxies."
"Do we have any time to go topside?" Errol asked eagerly.
"Yes, absolutely."
"What about the passengers?"
"Well, it's a very exclusive line, as you know." Merle explained, glancing at Debs. "Although most middle class people can afford space travel on occasion, intergalactic space travel is still extremely expensive. And time consuming. Most of those on board are those who can actually afford to take 6 months off. Generally, people with old money. Sometimes students, if they're eating out of their parents' pockets. Rich retired folks. Some CEOs, and celebrities. English is the primary language, though it is an international cruise and people from many different countries will be there. The guests are generally Earth residents though some of our staff do hail from other planets."
Merle turned the car into the Sudbury space station. It was the closest one to Toronto; as it was deemed necessary to build somewhere that wasn't vastly populated. Since the space station was built, Sudbury had changed and a number of seedy cantinas had popped up where pilots looking for work lurked.
"We take a small shuttle up to the International Space station," explained Merle, as they unloaded the bags after parking, and board the Orion Express from there. I hope you have everything with you, but if you forgot something, don't worry. It's a huge ship, over a kilometer long, and it has everything you could possibly need."
"Oh," he added. "Remember that you are not allowed any food on board the shuttle. Horrible mess, you know. On the last trip some spoiled rich child brought on a bag of chips, and opened them once we were already in anti-grav. The mess was absolutely terrible. Nearly short circuited the equipment."
"Oh no," said Debs in dismay. "Does this mean they're going to take away my take-out pho?"