A photon checks into a hotel and the receptionist asks him: “Any luggage, sir?”
“No,” he says, “I’m travelling light.”
This is just one of the jokes pilots were broadcasting over the comms channel as I collected my wages in Grant Dock. There was one joke about the Higgs boson walking into a bar, or maybe it was a synagogue, I don’t remember. All I care about is getting that sweet Palladium money, which I take from the pale-faced man who runs this station. He doesn’t do much, the pale-faced man. Imagine a profile pic stuck on a postbox, with a little slot where money comes out. I prefer the people sounding off in local chat, they’re at least human beings. Not that you’d know it, listening to their jokes.
I load up my spaceship with power generators. It’s good to be back. Read the rest of this entry »