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“Where did you think you’d travel to?” I ask him.
“Oh it was raining in the UK when I boarded the plane, I had almost no time to prepare, so here I am, but how about we skip the smalltalk?”
We sit down, and he continues.
“On the phone I told you I’m a doctor at the Sheffield Institute of Interspatial Communication. Have you heard of it?”
I shake my head but let the doctor continue.
“Naturally,” he replies. “The institute was founded five years ago, so it makes sense that you haven’t heard of it, I believe you were still travelling back then. At the Institute, we’re concerned with the study of long-distance space travel and communication; and, well, everything related to it. I particularly, am working on a study about possible ways of dealing with time dilation — a concept you’re fairly familiar with, I reckon; given that you’ve made it into your job.”
I nod.
“Now, part of my study involves a practical test, flying to a specific point in space, and back. I’m looking for a pilot.”
I interrupt him. “Look, I just came back from a trip, and plan to stay for a year or two. If you want to, we can schedule a trip two years from now, but I’m sure you’ll find other taxis that are available to leave earlier.”
“Well, here’s the problem. No one wants to take me.”
