Wallace - Field Trip

A futuristic comedy of (little) terrors

a novelette by

Jody Wallace

This book is a work of fiction. The names,characters, places, and incidents are products of the writersimagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to beconstrued as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead,actual events, locale or organizations is entirelycoincidental.

Field Trip

Published by Jody Wallace (MeankittyPublishing)

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Jody Wallace

Cover by Laura Morrigan

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book maybe used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without writtenpermission from the author, except in the case of brief quotationsembodied in critical articles and reviews.

This ebook is licensed for the original buyeronly. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other peopleat sharing sites, loops, discussion boards or through other means.Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Authors Note to Readers: There is abonus 1500 word excerpt (the first chapter) of Cooleys Pantherby Jody Wallace at the end of this document.

Blurb for Field Trip: Can a slightly cynical school teachersurvive a field trip, an interdimensional incident and a handsometour guide all at the same time?

Third grade teacherHazel James has been escorting her students to the Space StationFreedom Museum and Amusement park on their annual field trip foryears. Somewhat dull years, all things considered, but well withinthe budget of the Integrated Public School System of Earth so shedoesn't have to pay for the extras. This year, however, starts outwith an ominous fizzle almost as soon as she and her batch ofdarling troublemakers enter the front door. The museum's shabbyequipment malfunctions during the shuttle simulation. The childrenare having some issues with the whole paying attention business.And their usual tour guide has been replaced by a good-looking Zhiemale--who's completely incompetent at his job.

Or is he? Miss Jamesknows something is up at Space Station Freedom--whether due tobudget cuts, poor management or one too many unruly studentgroups--but she has no idea what an unusual turn their annual fieldtrip is about to take. Rated PG-13. 12000 words.

Geiger, the little piss-ant, sat behind meduring the shuttle simulation and relentlessly kicked the back ofmy seat. Hed picked that seat because it was beside Clarice, notbecause it was behind me, his teacher, but that didnt stop himfrom kicking.

This is how astronauts used to travelbetween planets, droned the Zhie tour guide. He was obviously notused to holding the attention of twenty Human and Zhie thirdgraders from the Integrated Public School System of Earth on theirannual field trip. We were only ten minutes into our day-long visitto The Space Station Freedom Museum and Amusement Park, and alreadythe kids were restless.

The early Humans didnt know aboutdimensional cross points. The guide, whod introduced himself asSergeant Chamblin, flicked his eyes from left to right, as if hewere reading cues. His posture was as rigid as a post. They usedhuge spacecrafts powered by dangerous fossil and nuclear fuels topropel themselves beyond Earths orbit. The ships were nothing likethe sleek hep...hep...oh, hoppers. Hoppers of contemporarytimes.

So maybe he was reading cues. Great. A newb.I resisted the urge to check the back of the room for any writingon the wall...of the cue or the ominous variety.

Trips between planets took months insteadof seconds, our newb explained, and travelers were hindered bycramped living conditions, faulty gravity emitters, radiation, and,horror of, uh, horrors, space rations.

The folks in charge of writing the speechpresumably thought theyd get a response out of the kids with thatworn-out joke. And they did. A wad of gum flew across the room andstuck to the guides podium, an incongruous green blip on the blackand white logo of Galaxy Prime.

Behind me, Geiger snickered.

Chamblins lips tightened, and one of hiseyebrows arched. If hed ever done an IPSSE tour beforeI wasstarting to have my doubtshe should hardly be surprised that kidshorsed around.

As I was saying, Chamblin managed, beforean another piece of gum joined the first. The Galaxy Prime logo nowappeared to have eyeballs.

With a sigh, I reached for the belt on myunpadded seat. If the first Human astronauts had had to squeezethemselves into chairs like this, no wonder they didnt progressany further than their own solar system. Nobody wanted to be thisuncomfortable for that long.

The buckle on the worn strap jammed. Istruggled to disengage it as Chamblin asked, If youre quitefinished hurling indigestible food objects at me, wellcontinue.

When nobody threw anything else, he said,Is everyone buckled up?

No one answered. I could feel the kidssuppressed laughter like the steam before a teapot whistles andpulled harder on the buckle.

Are your backpacks stowed? Its time fortake-off.

Again, no one answered. Chamblins angularface radiated annoyance. Literally. The reddish coloration startedat his irises and bled across his nose, cheeks and forehead untilanyone looking at him could tell this particular Zhie was tickedoff.

The stupid buckle on my stupid belt wasobviously broken, trapping me in place. I turned my head so thekids could see my profile. Too bad I didnt change color like aZhie.

Class, I said in my stern voice. AnswerMr. Chamblin.

Yes, Mr. Chamblin, all twenty chirped asone, punctuated by Geiger kicking my seat again.

Sergeant Chamblin, he corrected.

Right, right. I paused in my struggle withthe buckle to salute him. Sergeant.

What a downgrade. Last year wed had aGeneral. With a sense of humor.

Chamblin, whose dignity and colorationseemed to have been appeased by my salute, made a big show ofstrapping himself into a seat modeled after a pilots chair.Slowly, he pushed the red lever on the arm that would start theride. I freed myself just as the zero-g emitter coughed to life. Myponytail floated straight out from my head, and I shoved a footunder the edge of the seat to keep myself from drifting to theceiling. All over the shabby cabin, items wafted into the air. Thechildren laughed, grabbing for slurps, backpacks and buzz comms,and in one case, a shoe.

Chamblin fumbled with his seatbelt too.Miss James, for your own safety, I must insist you return to yourseat.

Give me a sec, Sergeant. I batted acrumpled slurp out of my face, aware I didnt present a veryauthoritative figure in mid-air. Who threw the gum?

The kids sneaked glances at each other, butno one aside from Clarice looked at me. It was too early in the dayfor them to rat each other out.

Really, Miss James, its all right.Chamblins eight-fingered hand chopped the air as he motioned medown. Just relax and enjoy the unique and yet wholly secureexperience of Space Station Freedom.

I could tell I was making the guy uneasy, soI cast a hard glance at my known troublemakers and ended withGeiger. Do not kick my seat again, mister. I dont care if yourtoes are growing out and it feels good.

With an expert twistI didnt spend twoyears in the Planetary Peace Corps for nothingI did as Chamblinasked and buckled in. Disciplining the students was always up tome, despite my two TAs. Lem and Lon were mostly useless,alternately simpering at any adult female or gazing at me inbemusement when the children acted like, well, children instead ofthe sims in their training holos.

Youd think male Zhie would be accustomed tokids and their ways, but hey, it was a new generation, IPSSEeducation notwithstanding. Next thing you knew, female Zhie wouldstart interning with the Centauri Ballet or something. Now thatwould be a show worth New Broadway prices.

Chamblin waited for me to settle before hecontinued. As I was saying, the early Humans didnt know aboutdimensional cross points, which is why the Zhie stumbled across theHumans instead of vice versa. The Space Station Freedom was wherethe Zhie initiated first contact. This is one of the actualtransport shuttles used by our ancestors. Retrofitted for safety,of course.