path."
"No one ever comes here,” said Neil, seating himself in the cramped cockpit. “That's why I want to get the hell out of here."
Lomax fed the coordinates of Olympus into the navigational computer, waited until it had chosen a flight path, then hit the ignition. As he had predicted, it brought all the armed security men back from the other ship, but he managed to take off before they could get off any damaging shots.
"So where are we going?” asked Neil Cayman when they had left the system and achieved light speeds.
"Olympus,” answered Lomax.
The young man had the computer cast a cartographic hologram in the air above his seat. “I can't find it,” he announced after a moment's scrutiny.
"Try Alpha Hayakawa IV,” suggested Lomax.
"Right. Here it is. I wonder why the difference in names?"
"Standard,” replied Lomax. “Most of the planets are named after the head of the Pioneer team that opened them up. Roman numerals indicate how far out from the sun it is; any other number tells you how many prior planets the man had opened."
"I don't follow you."
"This is Alpha Hayakawa IV,” explained Lomax. “That means it was first charted by a man or woman named Hayakawa, and that it's the fourth planet from a binary sun. But if you look elsewhere, you might also find that it's Jones 39 or Jones 22, which means that it's the 39th or 22nd planet opened up by some guy from the Pioneer Corps named Jones.” He paused. “And of course, the first thing the settlers did was change the name. Probably it's got some mountain that looks like a holo of Mount Olympus back on Earth, or maybe the first Governor was a Greek scholar, or maybe they had a civil war and the general on the winning side was named Olympus."
"It gets confusing, doesn't it?” said Neil. “All these names to learn."
"Even more so when the native lifeforms have their own name for their world,” said Lomax with a smile. “You get the hang of it after awhile."
"I like the notion of the inhabitants choosing their own name for their world,” said Neil. “Now that I'm going out to the Frontier, I want to pick my own name."
"You've got one."
"I don't like it. I want something colorful, like Gravedancer or Catastrophe Baker or Cemetery Smith."
"That's your right, I suppose.” Lomax converted to auto-pilot, unstrapped himself, and stood up, stretching his arms.
"You suppose?” asked Neil, following him back to the cargo area, which he had converted into a small lounge, with a pair of comfortable chairs secured to the deck.
Lomax sat down and lit a thin cigar. “If you're any good at anything, usually you'll find someone has picked your name for you, and you're pretty much stuck with it whether you like it or not."
"I could wait a long time,” said the young man ruefully, as he sat down opposite Lomax. “The only thing I'm really good at is wishing I was somewhere else."
"That's a start."
"It is?"
"Ever hear of Faraway Jones?” asked Lomax.
"No. Who is he?"
"An old man who's probably been to six, seven hundred worlds."
"Is he an explorer?"
"No."
"A cartographer?"
Lomax shook his head. “People say that when he was as young as you are, he fell in love with a girl on Binder X. Nobody knows what happened, but evidently he did something to make her leave him, and he's been hunting for her ever since.” Lomax paused. “He must have been searching for her for, oh, close on to seventy years now."
"Do you think she's still alive?” asked Neil dubiously.
"Probably not. Seventy years is a long time for anyone to survive on the Inner Frontier."
"Then why does he keep looking?"
Lomax shrugged. “You'd have to ask him."
"Will I ever see him?"
"Hit enough worlds out there and you'll run into him sooner or later."
"Who else will I see?” asked the young man eagerly.
"I don't know. Who do you want to see?"
"Everyone. All the colorful characters I've heard about and read about.” He smiled at Lomax. “They all seem so much bigger
"No one ever comes here,” said Neil, seating himself in the cramped cockpit. “That's why I want to get the hell out of here."
Lomax fed the coordinates of Olympus into the navigational computer, waited until it had chosen a flight path, then hit the ignition. As he had predicted, it brought all the armed security men back from the other ship, but he managed to take off before they could get off any damaging shots.
"So where are we going?” asked Neil Cayman when they had left the system and achieved light speeds.
"Olympus,” answered Lomax.
The young man had the computer cast a cartographic hologram in the air above his seat. “I can't find it,” he announced after a moment's scrutiny.
"Try Alpha Hayakawa IV,” suggested Lomax.
"Right. Here it is. I wonder why the difference in names?"
"Standard,” replied Lomax. “Most of the planets are named after the head of the Pioneer team that opened them up. Roman numerals indicate how far out from the sun it is; any other number tells you how many prior planets the man had opened."
"I don't follow you."
"This is Alpha Hayakawa IV,” explained Lomax. “That means it was first charted by a man or woman named Hayakawa, and that it's the fourth planet from a binary sun. But if you look elsewhere, you might also find that it's Jones 39 or Jones 22, which means that it's the 39th or 22nd planet opened up by some guy from the Pioneer Corps named Jones.” He paused. “And of course, the first thing the settlers did was change the name. Probably it's got some mountain that looks like a holo of Mount Olympus back on Earth, or maybe the first Governor was a Greek scholar, or maybe they had a civil war and the general on the winning side was named Olympus."
"It gets confusing, doesn't it?” said Neil. “All these names to learn."
"Even more so when the native lifeforms have their own name for their world,” said Lomax with a smile. “You get the hang of it after awhile."
"I like the notion of the inhabitants choosing their own name for their world,” said Neil. “Now that I'm going out to the Frontier, I want to pick my own name."
"You've got one."
"I don't like it. I want something colorful, like Gravedancer or Catastrophe Baker or Cemetery Smith."
"That's your right, I suppose.” Lomax converted to auto-pilot, unstrapped himself, and stood up, stretching his arms.
"You suppose?” asked Neil, following him back to the cargo area, which he had converted into a small lounge, with a pair of comfortable chairs secured to the deck.
Lomax sat down and lit a thin cigar. “If you're any good at anything, usually you'll find someone has picked your name for you, and you're pretty much stuck with it whether you like it or not."
"I could wait a long time,” said the young man ruefully, as he sat down opposite Lomax. “The only thing I'm really good at is wishing I was somewhere else."
"That's a start."
"It is?"
"Ever hear of Faraway Jones?” asked Lomax.
"No. Who is he?"
"An old man who's probably been to six, seven hundred worlds."
"Is he an explorer?"
"No."
"A cartographer?"
Lomax shook his head. “People say that when he was as young as you are, he fell in love with a girl on Binder X. Nobody knows what happened, but evidently he did something to make her leave him, and he's been hunting for her ever since.” Lomax paused. “He must have been searching for her for, oh, close on to seventy years now."
"Do you think she's still alive?” asked Neil dubiously.
"Probably not. Seventy years is a long time for anyone to survive on the Inner Frontier."
"Then why does he keep looking?"
Lomax shrugged. “You'd have to ask him."
"Will I ever see him?"
"Hit enough worlds out there and you'll run into him sooner or later."
"Who else will I see?” asked the young man eagerly.
"I don't know. Who do you want to see?"
"Everyone. All the colorful characters I've heard about and read about.” He smiled at Lomax. “They all seem so much bigger
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