A firm knock rapped on the hotel door. He barely noticed. Three and then five knocks rapped in a rhythmic tune.
"I'm coming!" Adam said. Bolting up out of bed. He was in small clothes so he scrambled, one leg and then another to get his trousers on. He pulled out the suit coat without buttoning it and went to the door.
Opening it, he found the man from the SIT building.
The man came rushing into the room, bagging up his stuff.
"You've been preliminarily approved. This is part of the process. Take off all your clothes."
Adam was embarrassed and didn't want to. He headed to the bathroom.
Another man entered.
"Now. You don't have time for the bathroom."
In a panicked way, he blushed and stripped, and then the 2nd man handed him a large sleek one piece outfit. It was completely smooth and flat, but he didn't have time to think about it as he rushed to put it on.
Another black, tight form fitting bodysuit went on after it, and then big bulky metallic oversuit made him unable to move at all without the metallic rim of arms slashing into the man.
He was overcome, as they placed a clear bubble of some kind over top his head and added several hoses which clicked and clacked.
His face felt pulled taut as a sort of suction took away his breathing, and then an odd sort of gas entered the bubble. It was almost slimy, which was a weird feeling for gas. He felt an undefinable tugging on him that wasn't physical in any way.
The second man had his hand pressing down on the top of the bubble so he could see nothing. Though he couldn't feel breathable air, he seemed to be breathing the weird gross viscous air anyway.
He calmed down, gradually feeling the pounding in his ears calm down, and his stress and anxiety faded slowly. The two men shifted something on the machinery powering the bubble, and the sickly weird air left, bringing into a flood of cool fresh oxygen.
The slimy air wasn't oxygen. It went into his lungs with a sliding liquidlike feeling.
Once his air was completely oxygen again, the 2nd man twisted and lifted the bubble out of his socket in the suit and then pulled off each layer of clothing.
Instead of putting back on his other clothes, they gave him pants and a white collared shirt with a monogram that said: "Ryan - SIT Candidate".
Finally they talked.
"We had to catch you by surprise, to see if you could breathe aether in an emergency. It's mostly up to accident of birth, but 6% of people are able to immediately start breathing aether, and you passed."
The 2nd man said, "When you leave Earth, the transition from air to aether will be sudden. Plus, when the air gets thin, we have aether-suits that will pump aether into your spacesuit like you just experienced. But here in the high pressure air, we have to use all of these suits and equipment to make sure the regular air isn't seeping in."
"I don't like to talk with those who haven't passed the 6% test. Because only 6% will make it," said the first man.
The 2nd man continued, "I'm Jenkins, and this is Wallaby. You'll be going by your last name and designation. So it's nice to welcome you to Stage 2, Candidate Ryan."
"Thanks Sir Jenkins," Adam said tentatively, still catching up to the crazy.
"It's Coordinator Jenkins and President Wallaby," said Jenkins.
"Thanks Coordinator Jenkins."
"We're taking you to our evaluation center, at the International Space Center," said Jenkins.
"I'll be staying here to evaluate more candidates, but you're the only one from this week to make it," said Wallaby.
"Where is that at?" Adam asked.
"Kilometers up, orbiting the Earth. You'll be tested on your ability to rapidly learn ship systems, your physical capacity to deal with the rigors of space, and your understanding and suitability for working with a partnership organization. I will give you the information you need as we make our way up towards orbit."
"Wow, I get to go to space! Just as a Candidate!" Adam beamed at him.
"Let's hurry, you have a ridiculously busy schedule ahead of you, and I need to get back down on planet by Friday."
It was Tuesday.
Coordinator Jenkins was a bearded man with a sweater vest and white slacks. He carried nothing with him as they left, and Adam's case was back at the hotel.
"Your personal effects will be stored until your return. These lifters are only designed to bring two men to orbit, nothing more."
The hansom that they entered outside was not a public issue, but instead had a driver from the SIT program.
"The station then," he asked.
"Of course, hurry if you can."
The man nodded, and the jolt pushed Adam back into his plush seat. They were sitting on a polished black bench, with no sign of wear or abuse on the floor or seats.
"Just as a quick answer to questions you might want to ask," said Jenkins. "It's vastly cheaper to use a small lifter-craft to get into orbit than bringing the ships down to the planet. It's at least 7 times cheaper to use a lifter."
"The other thing is you won't have to put much money down. Obviously a young man like yourself can't afford a spaceship, and even one investor isn't enough. You will have a whole big group of investors who are invested in your craft. You may been a candidate, but to actually be accepted, you need to get to know your investment team, and choose a managing partner, who will run the financial side of things while you are traveling. All of the investors, big and small, will be observing and receiving reports on your test results here. So after testing will be your time to meet with them."
"Do I get to be the captain of a ship? I love it, but I also don't know anything about being a crewman yet alone a captain?"
Jenkins chuckled. "Human spaceships like the Osprey class are not yet large enough to support more than one crew member. You need that space for your passengers. And you will find it's not that hard to navigate on your own. I've already received a request from Atiaelero Numat to travel on your first leg."
It wasn't twenty minutes before they were walking through the station towards the lifters.
They were long silver narrow tube like things.
Jenkins flashed his badge at several checkpoints before the red tape blocking the way was broken and they walked out to the lifter.
The seats were barely large enough for two slender people. "Let me strap in first, I have a little problem with getting buckled.
The clasping buckle was unlike any he had seen, as Jenkins fidgeted and got into position, and finally got buckled. The buckle had no mechanism for releasing it, that he could see.
"Come on in," the man said, and Adam sat down in the snug seat, pulling the belt tight before snapping it into the buckle.
Jenkins looked at a dial in the tiny vessel.
"2:16 pm, right on the dot, Candidate Ryan," he said.
There was a solid brass button, flush against the cabin wall, which said Go. They waited impatiently for over ten minutes before Jenkins started counting down the seconds. Finally, he said, "Three and two and one, and go!" slamming his palm against the Go button.
Adam's whole body was pinned firmly against the seatback and a loud roar erupted, filling their ears. He suddenly felt his body let go of its impression in the seat back, and for a split second he floated, until again the roar pushed him back. There were no windows, nor way of knowing where they were. It wasn't until the sound cut out again that he flipped a lever that Adam hadn't even seen before.
Two sets of odd headgear floated out towards them, and he told Adam, "put this on, I'll tighten it for you this time."
Then he went to work, putting his head inside the other one, and tightening his helmet. The helmet had a long fringe like a hat which nestled down into his shirt, and Jenkins slid the slider mechanism against it, then pushing the hose taut until it connected with the back of his head like before.
This time he didn't have the whole body suit, so he wasn't sure how it would work.
He couldn't hear anything but the howling wind outside, until that even began to fade. All he could hear was the slight whisper of voices lost in the aether, like echoing conversations from the past they murmured and muttered, as if you were hearing bits of a conversation at another table at a restaurant.
The slimy almost liquid feeling of aether filled his mouth and lungs again.
The aether filled the cabin, but he didn't panic this time.
"It's that transition point, when the air gets thin, and the aether isn't yet fully sufficient, that is dangerous," said Jenkins, who pulled off his mask.
"Everyone out here, is either obscenely rich, or else is part of that 6%, or is Ethereal."
He hesitantly pulled off the space suit, helped by Jenkins.
"It feels weird, really for quite a while, but eventually you get used to it."
Adam looked around, as if he could see out a window, but lacking that he felt a bit confined.
It was only another few minutes before he heard a solid ca-clunk, and the lifter rubbed up against some metallic surface.
The buckles released without either of them doing anything, and then the tube tilted open like it had before, and they were facing a series of spiraling rings, which made a steady thrum hum.
"Fly through here to get to the hub."
Jenkins flapped his arms, and with just the barest of speed, started floating through the rings.
He flapped his own, and clumsily spun around like a top, holding on to the ring to stop his fall. He pushed off with his hands against the first ring, which finally propelled him, but then he was going too fast, and tumbled into Jenkins and they both went spinning.
"That's why you don't do that," he said, and caught himself purely with hand gestures and began to float serenely onward.
Adam made a more gentle waving motion with his hands and followed.
The rings turned into a solid circular corridor, which they then floated through into a vast three-dimensional hub.
He saw it as three dimensional because Adam could see hallways up and down, and in all four other directions too.
The dull sound of constant conversation filled the aether.
He almost missed Jenkin's change in direction as he gaped at the huge cavern full of places to go and see.
He practiced fumbling about in the air until he was able to sort of careen his way after Jenkins, stumbling back and forth in slightly wrong directions. How could he learn to fly so straight like the Coordinator.
"How many hallways are there?"
"Hundreds," said Jenkins as they slipped through a narrow downward leading passage. Down was relative, of course.
Here it was quieter, as they slipped through into another smaller hub area.
He fumbled after Jenkins until they had gone through another three tunnels into a small, reasonably sized room.
"Wow that was a trip," he said.
Jenkins said, "I've traveled through the hub hundreds of times. It gets easier, but also a little boring."
"Where are we, and how do I find my way around anywhere?"
Jenkins laughed. Instead of answering he pulled a latch on the wall and out swung a full cot, but this cot was weird, in that it had straps to keep you from floating away.
Jenkins quickly put it away.
"This is your bedroom. You'll be sleeping on a weird shift, since space is limited, and after all, we don't have sunrise and sunset here. Unless you mean every 45 minutes."
Adam nodded, "and how will I know to get back here?"
"Number 623," he said and left, following another tunnel back.
It was exhausting following Jenkins, who didn't answer any of his questions, at least not directly.
"What is this tiny little room?" Adam asked.
"Claustrophobia test," he said, and closed the door on the room. Most rooms didn't have doors, just a tunnel which provided access at any time.
The room was just big enough to slip in, and had no room for stretching or changing orientation.
There was a dial on the door. Two dials actually. They seemed to be marking the time left until the chamber would open.
