Jeanne closed the cabin door as the porter left. They had a gorgeous bubble balcony view of planetfall for sail away. The suite was as luxurious as expected, with even a bowl of assorted fresh fruit laid out on the table in the common room. The bed was huge and she was sure as soft as was economically possible.

“I don’t trust them,” she announced to her husband, standing at the balcony doors. “Why would they give us a free cruise? Us, of all people?”

“Because they want to show us that they aren’t as bad as we’ve been saying they are,” answered Oliver. He opened his luggage on the bed and began unpacking into the drawers and closet. “They want to wine us and dine us, and show us a wonderful time, so that we’ll agree to sign exclusive port access of Breton to them. Same with the other planetary dignitaries on board. The Malestroit is one of the newest, most luxurious ships in the fleet.” He turned from the view to take her in his arms. “I’d still wager the crew isn’t getting paid any better than the rest of the line. It’s criminal, the difference in class on these vessels, and I do not intend to be a party to hiding it behind glossy marketing propaganda.”

“Are we going to go on the other cruise lines, too, if they offer to bribe us?”

“If they want us to. We’ll go, we’ll smile, we’ll enjoy the excellent food and the pampering they want to give us, and then we’ll tip the porters and waitstaff well, and not have to pay the wealthy investors that run the line. Remember, Jeanne, I’m not trying to shut these tourist lines down. They do bring valuable opportunities to many indigenous peoples of their ports of call, and the employees of the line. Many spend their lives here on these ships to make their families back home more comfortable than they ever could on their own planet. But that’s no excuse for taking advantage of them and mistreating them the way the lines do. The local employees are all underpaid, overworked servants at best. The officers of every ship in the line are full blood human. They can’t explain that away with Bungresse caviar and Nilaxian champagne.”

“I still don’t trust them.”

“What’s to trust? They deal in entertainment and spoil. Even an accident would reflect very badly on them. They take every precaution to keep their guests safe and happy. It’s the crew I worry about.”

Jeanne smiled up at her husband. His golden beard could not hide the twinkle in his blue eyes. “You’ve the heart of a lion, Oliver Clisson.”

“Maybe, but I kiss like a seal!” He rubbed his beard across her cheeks, tickling her while he tightened his arms around her. Jeanne burst out laughing and pushed him away.

“You can kiss me later. We should get ready for dinner.”

In the Main Dining Room, the Clissons were sat at a table of honor, along with a handful of other invited guests. They knew them by name, though they had not met before.

“I am called Alain. This is my spouse Guilla. We are from Quédil. We publish the Travelers’ Guide for this arm of the galaxy.” The Quédilliacs were a smaller than average race of beings with very thin limbs. She was sure they had their athletes, like any species, but Jeanne had never seen or heard of one. In contrast, their heads were larger than average, sitting on two wiry necks, to fit their sizable brains.

“A pleasure to meet you both.” Oliver shook hands with Alain. “We have a subscription. Jeanne reads every issue. We’re from Breton.”

They marveled over the gold-plated tableware and singing crystal wine glasses while they waited for the rest of their table to arrive. The Plessians were not delayed long. They were an aquatic people, as Plessis was almost entirely covered in water. It was a very popular tourist destination for various water sports. Their skin was smooth and rubbery-looking with blue and purple hues.

“My name is Denis. This is my son, Geoffrioe.” Greetings and pleasantries were exchanged all around. The boy had apparently just reached the age of maturity for his people, and thus was now allowed to travel, so this particular trip was quite an experience for him.

After perusing the expansive menus (each page was a different planetary specialty), some small talk, and a round of drinks and appetizers, Alain checked over his shoulder for nearby waiters or ship staff before speaking in hushed tones.

“So, I know why we’re getting the royal suite treatment, as I’ve not been overly generous in my articles regarding the cruise lines, and they would prefer more glowing testimonials to add to their pamphlets, but what do they want from you?”

“Exclusive and unrestricted port access to Breton,” answered Oliver.

“They already visit Plessis, but they want to build one of their ICCL resorts on the surface. Well, I say surface. I’ve seen the architectural plans. We have one unsubmerged landmass, and they want all of it, plus an entire system of floating bungalows surrounding it, and docking berths for a good hundred submarines of various sizes to tour our underwater cities. Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Yet you accepted their tickets?”

“Travel is a very good thing. Exposure to other cultures and ways of life.” He smiled at his younger companion. “But exposure is not the same as exploitation.”

“Hear hear!” Oliver raised his glass in agreement, and the table joined him in a friendly toast against the evil cruise lines before their waiter brought the meals. They watched the stars slip by through the MDR’s big bubble windows. They were out of the solar system before the second course.

“One thing cruise lines have always been known for, and rightly so, are the meals.” Alain wiped his mouth with the thousand-thread count stardust linen napkin. “The culinary skill is excellent, the setting glitzy, and the company of the highest possible class.” He smiled the compliment, and the rest of the table laughed. “Honestly, it is no simple task to balance multi-cultural preferences and sensitivities. Some planets’ delicacies very much resemble other planets’ monarchs!” The wine made the laughter all the easier to come by, and Jeanne found it to be a most pleasant meal with new friends when she had expected five courses of dull torture with cruise line executives or disdainful aristocrats.

As they left the table, Oliver, in his usual way, pulled their waiter to the side. He slipped a sizable bill into the waiter’s hand. “This is for your family that you said are still back on your home planet.” He slipped another bill of the same size into his hand. “This one is for you. Save it, invest it, spend it on yourself if you like, but it’s for you personally. Thank you for your service. We quite enjoyed the meal.” Expressions varied from species to species, but Jeanne was sure she saw tears in the waiter’s eyes as they walked away.

The night, however, was a restless one of strange engine noises and unexpected vibrations of the ship. Uncharacteristic of the modern galactic vessels, but nothing to worry about, she told herself as she tossed in the cloud-like bed.

The next morning, they sat at the same table for breakfast with the same companions. The odd behavior of the ship was the prime topic of conversation and conjecture.

“I tell you,” swore Alain, “I spent a fitful hour in the middle of the night on our bubble balcony, writing a draft of a scathing review by the waning light of the departing star system. Once we reached open space, the light was too dim, and I retired to my bed to try again to sleep.” He speared a sausage from his plate. “I don’t have to tell you that I found little success!”

A broad shouldered man in a very bright IICL uniform navigated to their table, with three more like him in his wake.

“Ah, finally,” smiled Denis, “our captain makes his appearance! Say hello, son.”

Before Geoffrioe could comply, the officer spoke. “I am not the Captain; I am the Chief of Security. You are Oliver Clisson of Breton, Alain of Quédil, and Denis of Plessis, yes?”

The seated travelers looked from one another. Jeanne did not like the tone of the question at all. Oliver stood up. Alain and Deni followed his example. “What is the problem, officer? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“I didn’t give it. You are hereby charged with attempted sabotage and corporate espionage.” He did not look at the guards behind him as he commanded, “Take them into custody.” The guards moved instantly, taking each of the standing men by the arm.

“Now see here, you cannot just accuse us of something and throw us in the brig!” Oliver did not resist the guard, but gave him a look of steel that would tolerate no casual roughness. “We are men of high standing in our societies. I demand you present evidence and allow me to contact my legal representation.”

The chief of security allowed himself a brief smirk. “We are in open space on the IIC Malestroit, my lord; we can do anything we like. Throw them in the brig.”

Jeanne leaped to her feet. “Get your hands off my husband! This is absurd. We are invited guests of the cruiseline.” She reached for the guard holding Oliver.

“Jeanne, stop. Fighting with the guards won’t do any good. Call the attorney. I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding.” He walked resolutely away with the guard. Denis and Alain were much less calm about it, but, with the guards’ assistance, they, too, were led off to the brig.

The chief of security stood with his hands folded behind his back and kept a firm eye on Jeanne and the rest of them until the prisoners had been removed from the dining room. The entire chamber was staring, but Jeanne didn’t care. Once her husband was out of sight, she turned her attention to him.

“I want to speak to the captain immediately.”

“He’s a very busy man, miss.” He smiled as though placating a drunken guest who was complaining about towels. “But I’ll let him know as soon as I see him.” He bowed to the table and left.

That afternoon, Jeanne walked into the brig. The lawyer had been useless. They were outside of any solar system, and floating in unregulated open space. The laws of protection and justice couldn’t reach them. Usually, in such situations, the Cruise line imposed its own laws and justice, bringing prisoners or suspects back into lawful regions to deal with their alleged crimes, but there was no law that said they had to.

“Oliver?” There were five doors in the brig, each with a tiny, barred window, and a guard in front of the middle one.

“Jeanne?!” His golden beard appeared in the little window of the center door.

The guard stepped sideways to cover the window. Jeanne stepped forward.

“I will give you a hundred credits to let me talk to my husband.” She pulled the money from a pouch at the side of her dress and held it out straight-armed like a sword. She held the pose for ten shallow breaths. She knew the crew aboard these ships were underpaid, but how willing would that make the guard? He finally took his eyes off the money long enough to scan the otherwise empty room and throw a furtive glance at the camera over the door. The guard covered her hand and pushed them away from his face. The credits vanished from her fingers like a magician’s trick, and the guard turned to walk the row of doors, looking inside each very closely and throughly inspecting every perceivable corner of the cell, empty or not.

“Jeanne, what are you doing here? Did you get in touch with the attorney?”

“He’s no help. What evidence do they have?”

“They won’t share it with us. They only say it is enough to be sure of their accusations.”

“Are you okay? How are they treating you?”

“We’re fine. They’ve done no more than imprison us and try to scare us.”

“Scare you how?”

“By implying that if the captain determines us guilty of espionage and sabotage, he’s authorized to sentence us to death.”

Jeanne gasped and drew back from the door, her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.

“I’m certain it is just blustering, Jeanne.” Oliver stretched his fingers through the bars. She grasped them and closed her eyes. “No space captain, especially a civilian captain of a luxury liner, has ever mitigated such a punishment. They’d surely have hell to pay when they docked back in regulated space again.”

Jeanne was not willing to take that risk. “Guard!” She turned her attention, though she kept her fingers entwined with her husband’s. “Open this door, and I will get you a hundred times those credits!”

“You open that door, and you’ll find yourself on the other side of it!” The voice of the chief of security cracked from the other side of the room. He’d entered from a door marked Officers Only, and was followed by another decorated man in uniform, one with even more brass at his collar. “Seize the woman. Put her in a different cell.”

The guard, now under the watchful eye of his direct superior and the captain of the ship, as well, did not hesitate to follow orders. He hurried toward Jeanne.

Jeanne, however, was not a person of hesitation, either, and leaped toward the guard, catching him by surprise. She grabbed at the baton as he withdrew it from its sheathe and threw herself to the floor in a slide between his knees. He would have to either let go of the enforcement weapon, or follow her between his own knees. He was not quick thinking enough to let go of the weapon, but as he landed in a twisted pile on the carpeted floor, the rod slipped from his grasp.

Jeanne dashed for the hallway. Heavy footsteps pounded the deck behind her. She ran for the promenade; it would be full of people at this time of day. She lost herself in the crowd. The cruise line may want to discredit her husband and the other ‘honored guests,’ but they didn’t want to incite a panic among the general masses. Criminal hunts did not inspire shopping. She slipped out of the crowd and into the labyrinthine passageways that led to the cabins. She could not hope to find safety in her own cabin, they would be looking for her there. She headed to the Quédilliacs’ cabin. She felt she could trust Guilla. She should tell her what she knew, anyway. She opened the door immediately at the sound of Jeanne’s voice.

“Jeanne, are you okay?”

“They are looking for me. I talked to my husband. The cruise line is determined to paint them as criminals. We have to get them out of there.”

“It would do little good if we did. We need to get away, back to our home planets, where we can bring legal and political pressure on the cruise line to rescue them and clear their names. We cannot fight this from here. We can use the Traveler’s Guide to get word of this to billions all over the galaxy. They won’t be able to suffer such bad publicity. They’ll have to release them. Trust me.”

“I trust you, but how do we leave? They certainly won’t turn the ship around to take us home.”

A youth Jeanne hadn’t noticed in her distress stood from the couch. It was Geoffrioe, Denis’s son. “I was able to get word to our people. They are sending a ship to get us and are not far away.”

“They won’t let us leave the ship, especially with what we know. They’ll just put us in the brig, too.” Jeanne no longer trusted the officers of this ship. The pleasure cruise had become a political trap.

“What can we do?” Guilla wrung her hands and looked out their bubble balcony.

The view out of the balcony gave Jeanne an idea. Not all balconies had such a nice view. Whole decks had obscured views. Obscured by emergency vessels and tender shuttles for taking passengers to small planet side ports.

“How close are your people, Geoffrioe?”

“A few hours, at most, half a day.”

“If we steal one of the tender shuttles, his people could pick us up in open space.”

“If we what?” Guilla looked shocked.

“Would you rather wait for them in the brig?” Jeanne looked to Geoffrioe. “Are you with me?”

“Aye aye!” He nodded. Youth were often ready for adventure. She would just need to keep him safe enough to see the other side of it. Guilla grabbed her coat. “Well, I’m not staying here by myself!”

Reaching the nearest tender ship was easy. The liners were designed to make emergencies as simple and safe as possible. As a result, there was no lock on the emergency doors. There was surely an alarm raised on the bridge as they launched, but that could not be avoided. By quickly escalating to the ship’s top speed, the other vessels on the cruise liner should not be able to overtake them. This was not built to be a ship of war. They did not need to worry about cannon fire.

The radio crackled to life. “This is Captain Les Halles of the Cruise Ship Malestroit. You have taken unauthorized control of one of our emergency tender shuttles. This is a criminal act against the cruise line. However, if you turn back now, I promise you we will not press charges. We’ll just call it a little ‘unplanned excursion’ and forget it all happened.”

Jeanne opened the communication channel. “What about Oliver, Denis, and Alain’s ‘unplanned excursion’ to the brig?” She kept the nose of their shuttle pointed away from the cruise line and increasing speed.

“Those men are being held in connection with an incident of sabotage and espionage. Please turn the shuttle around.”

“We’ll just see what the rest of the galaxy thinks about that, shall we?”

“If that’s the way of it, you may want to turn on the video channel we are currently broadcasting to you.”

Guilla activated the screen. Oliver, Alain, and Denis filled the screen. Their hands were cuffed in front of them, and they were standing in an airlock.

“What are you doing?” Geoffrioe yelled at the communication screen. “Let my father out of there!”

“Last chance,” responded the captain. “Turn the shuttle around.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” breathed Guilla.

The captain stepped into the edge of the screen and gestured towards the captives. A guard stepped forward and strapped a small tank of air around the chest of each man, attaching the breathing mask over their faces.

“Let it not be said that we did not give them a chance. Perhaps, if you turn the shuttle around and are quick enough, you can even rescue them from deep space before they run out of air.” He waited a mere seconds, just enough to let the situation sink in.

“Gentlemen, for crimes against the IIC Malestroit and the Interstellar Industries Cruise Lines in general, including sabotage and espionage, it is my duty as captain to ban you from the cruise line permanently. Your disembarkation of the ship will be immediate. Good luck to you in your future travels.” The captain stepped back, and the airlock doors cycled closed. Oliver stood ramrod straight, head high, as the exterior doors opened. In seconds, they were lost to the vast blackness of space.

“Captain,” Jeanne growled into the microphone, “I swear on my husband’s life that you and your superiors will pay for this.”

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Tanax placed her shining Interstellar Industries Luxury Resort name badge on her new uniform. She put her blue crystal hair up in a waterfall from the top of her head. The blue highlights matched her eyes. It was the first day of her future. Most Nilax in the tourist zones were shopkeepers, or tour guides, spending their days begging for Nilaxian beads or Galactic Credits, and their nights huddled in sparse shacks or modified cave-houses. Interstellar Industries liked to boast that they had brought culture and prosperity to the less developed worlds, but all they really brought was the realization that the local cultures were lagging behind. It turned their worlds into windows, with the natives on the outside of the opulence. But she had opened that window and was stepping through it. Today, she was a dancer at the tourist resort, with Interstellar Industries paychecks on the way. Next year, or the year after, she would be travelling away from Nilara, dancing across the stars to find her place in that society, and later, she would be able to bring all three of her parents, Mom, Tut, and Dad, out there with her.

“What do you mean you lost your position?” Mom’s high voice rang clearly through the thin wall.

“Keep your voice down, Salva,” chastised Tut from outside Tanax’s bedroom door. “Tanax doesn’t need to worry about things like this on her first day.”

“Evis, I did nothing wrong.” Dad’s voice was lower, harder to make out, but Tanax had had practice. “They cancelled the Singing Crystal Caves’s tour contract. They said they had bad reviews. With no tours, there’s no need for tour guides.”

“Of course they had bad reviews with every tourist taking a crystal home for themselves!” Tut always seemed to be the voice of reason in their home.

“Of course you did nothing wrong. I’ve always said you were the best tour guide they had.” There was a moment of silence. Mom gave the best hugs. “You’ll find something else. There are always more cruise ship tourists.”

Tanax decided this would be a good moment to make her entrance. “Star shine, parents,” she called out as she opened her door. Dad was sitting at the table, his twin green plumes of hair unbrushed and tangled, a clear sign that he was stressed. Tut was doing dishes, her cloud of translucent, crystal white hair bobbing around her as she moved. Mom swept her up in a hug, her work leathers rough. Mom had to pick the carnivorous fruit before she could sell it at the stand. Her blue hair was still down, so she wasn’t leaving yet.

“You were listening again, weren’t you?” whispered Mom in her ear. Mom always knew.

“Salva, don’t keep her all to yourself.” Dad was on his feet, putting on a brave face.

Mom hugged her all the tighter. “Go find your own sweet daughter to hug, Stru. This one’s all mine.”

“You hear that, Evis? Salva isn’t going to share.”

“Salva, play nice. Tanax is all our daughter.” Tut joined in on the family hug, and Tanax, in the center, felt warm and safe.

“Well today, I belong to Interstellar Industries Luxury Resort, and if you three don’t let me go, I’ll be late!”

Fortunately, she still had a few minutes to take her breakfast, give kisses all around, and pick up her bag for the long ride to the resort. Few Nilax could afford to actually live anywhere close to the resort. She ate her breakfast on the way, as Nilax traditionally did, and thought of Dad’s unwelcome announcement. Mom and Tut both had employment, in a tourist restaurant and a roadside fruit stand, but Dad’s tour guide money was a significant portion of the family’s income.

By the time she reached the resort, she had pushed the matter to the dark valleys of her mind, and climbed to the hilltops for her first day of work. Her welcome and orientation were hurried. Food was available, but not to take with her. For some reason, the tourists preferred to let their food sit out on tables before eating it. Stealing would get her fired. ‘Dallying’ with the tourists would get her fired. Making guests unhappy would get her fired. Her job was to perform as a dancer, teach Nilaxian dancing to the tourists, and make tourists smile. Doing anything else, it seemed, would get her fired. She was not to ask for tips, but tipping was encouraged, and she would keep any tips she got. Some, it was said, made more from their tips than their actual pay.

Her first performance was in the Crystal Room of the resort. They weren’t real Singing Crystals, of course, the sound would interfere with performances, and they couldn’t grow in a building like this naturally, but it was beautifully reminiscent of the grand caves. She watched from the edge as the room slowly filled with curious and smiling tourists from a variety of worlds. Her first dance was a popular, modern Nilaxian number with lots of energy. The next was a traditional dance of her people, slow and sensual. The set would end with a Nilaxian dance set to a modern galactic song that would be familiar to the tourists. The lights went down, and all but the first row was lost to the darkness. She stepped into the light and began to dance. She could feel the flutter of nervous lightwings in her abdomen. Mom said to pick a single face and dance just for them to make the lightwings vanish. In the center of the front row, she found a handsome, friendly face, probably Human or Denovian, she guessed. She danced for him. She threw the energy into his smiling face. She poured the sensuality into his lap. She moved her body to the music in his eyes.

The lights brightened on resounding applause, and she smiled to the crowd, pleased and relieved that her first performance was done. She posed for happy photographs with the tourists and wrote her name for them. Some gave her tips. The largest tip came from the friendly face in the front row, along with a firm hug.

“You were marvelous,” he said. “When do you perform again? I don’t want to miss a show.”

“Thank you.” She blushed. “It’s not a performance exactly, but I have a dance class this afternoon. The next show will be tomorrow.”

“Even better. I’d love to learn that second dance you did. See you there.”

She waited until the tourists had all gone and took a deep breath. She was really doing it. With a little free time before her next event, she found her way to the resort’s food hall. Meals were provided on site for the employees, but she had not expected the seemingly endless array of foods on display. She felt guilty eating in such abundance when she knew Dad was at home, making a meager meal from the sparse contents of the family cabinets. There was so much food here, free for the taking, maybe she could put some in a bag to take home. The whole family could easily eat from this buffet without even emptying a single table. Then she noticed a sign posted beside the door. NO FOOD BEYOND THIS POINT. Her orientation came back to her. It would be foolish to risk her dreams on a single family meal. She finished her plate and tried not to think about home.

The dance class was in an open room with a wall of windows offering a gorgeous view of the ocean. The pink waves glinted in the afternoon light like diamonds tossed on a bed of blushing satin. She arrived early just to enjoy it. She shared the sight with the tourists as they arrived and began warming up for the dance class. She’d had to take special training to learn about how to stretch and move with various anatomies, as not all species were built the same. The friendly face entered as she stretched their legs.

She demonstrated the moves and then walked among the dancers, correcting posture, adjusting position, guiding steps. The friendly face had a natural talent, she noticed. When the class ended, she again posed for group photographs, this time in front of the oceanview windows, or in dance positions. She gratefully accepted the galactic credits slipped into her hands, some small, some generous. The friendly face again lingered until the others had gone.

“Great class. I learned a lot.”

“Thank you. It’s my first one.”

“Would you be interested in giving me a private lesson? Perhaps something more like the second dance you did earlier?”

Something in the weight of his words made it clear that he did not have only dancing on his mind. “I’m sorry, they’ve not given me any private lessons on my schedule. And it’s against the rules to be… private with guests.”

“They should add private lessons. They pay quite a bit more.” He pulled a string of Nilaxian beads from his pocket. “And I am certainly willing to pay for the privilege. More, knowing that we’d be bending the rules.”

Being paid in beads meant she wouldn’t lose anything to exchange rates for the credits. The string he held could feed her family for a full lunar cycle. His experienced eyes reflected the pink waves through the window. “You, ah, could take all my classes for free. I can try to give you extra notes, too. That wouldn’t be seen as private lessons.”

He smiled. It was still friendly, still kind. A second string of beads withdrew from his pocket. “Let me be a little more direct and honest. I enjoy experiencing a lot more than just the culture from the planets I visit. I want to experience you. And I am willing to compensate you for it. I know Interstellar Industries doesn’t offer the highest pay to locals, even if it might be more than what else is available.”

He held out two strings of beads, and her family and her future flashed through her mind.

“What do you say?

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Traveler Planet of Origin and Language: Earth, English.

Greetings, Travelers. I am Widget, your AI Travel Assistant from Interstellar Industries. I’m here to help make sure “the fun goes from star to star, just like you are!” Welcome to planet [Nilara] in the [Enia] system. This destination has been a part of our premium itineraries for some time and is now open to all travelers. The [Nilax] people are happy to show you their fascinating home world, and invite you to explore the natural wilderness, relax in their unique hallucinogenic spas, or partake in their rich culture. We’d like to remind you that we are offering bonus travel points for giving feedback on all of your excursions to this beautiful Interstellar Industries Destination Partner.

A request for commerce follows.

Come see the shining jewel of Nilara: the Singing Crystal Caves of Bandizor! The Bandizorian crystals glisten around the cave, sparkling in rhythm to the harmonizing tones that emanate naturally from these ancient natural constructions. Each crystal takes centuries to grow to a size capable of producing audible harmonics. Together, the numerous singing crystals in the Bandizor Caves create a concert to be found nowhere else in the galaxy. Truly, an experience not to be missed on any trip to Nilara. We accept Nilaxian Currency Beads and Galactic Credits. Tell your Travel Assistant you want to see (and hear) the Singing Crystal Caves of Bandizor!

As you settle into your suite, a tray of Nilaxian fruit has been laid out for you to enjoy. Tips are not included in your Interstellar Industries travel plan and are always appreciated by the local population for their services.

“Hello, Widget. I’m James Watkins, from Earth, Western Hemisphere. Guess we’ll be doing the whole feedback thing for the bonus points. I’ve got to tell you, the whole family has really been looking forward to this vacation. We’ve saved for a long time to get all the way out here, and we can’t wait to check it all out. The flight here was a little long, the stars were pretty, food was tasty. Our son Cadence would hardly eat any of it, but that’s just him being picky, it isn’t the cook’s fault. We had a storm on day 3. I know that isn’t your fault, exactly, but you’d think they could have flown around it or something.”

“The Spaceport was decent. A little old, a little crowded. Guess they didn’t build it for the number of folks using it these days. Might want to think of remodeling that or something. As much as these trips cost, people shouldn’t have to feel like cattle in a stampede. The luggage service was nice, though. Not sure how much to tip those yellow fellas with the extra arms. We’re used to Earth currency, but they don’t seem to use that out here. Do you tip for every arm, or just per, uhm, being? The fruit was a nice thought, but it don’t smell like anything I’m used to, so I’m not sure if it’s good for us to eat or not. Thanks.”

“Those Crystal Caves sound interesting. Sign us up for that, will you? And what time is dinner here? I’m starving.”

Good morning, or as the Nilax say, ‘May the star shine warmly upon you’. Modern Nilax say simply ‘star shine’ for short. Morning meal foods are available in the dining room. Nilax do not sit down to eat their morning meal. Traditionally, it is food that can be eaten on the go, as it were, getting the day started. You’ll want to be getting on with your day, too, as you have exciting adventures planned.

Today, you’ve chosen to focus on the natural world of Nilara by visiting the Singing Crystal Caves and a Wild Safari Guided Tour in the Mazhakin Jungle. Your Crystal Caves appointment is at one-quarter, local time, and your Safari appointment is at half-day, local time, and includes a traveling lunch on broganda back.

The following is a request for commerce.

While visiting Nilara, join us for a traditional Nilaxian Mating Ritual! Participants are dressed in ritual garb, and you will hear classic Nilaxian music and see dances that have been passed down through centuries. This is the traditional ceremony for the joining of Nilax lovers. A romantic addition to your relaxing getaway to Nilara!

Don’t forget to log your feedback after your day’s adventures for bonus travel points.

“This is Martha Watkins. James is lying down; that ride on the broganda creature made him sick. Or maybe it was the fruit. I hope he didn’t get bitten by some local mosquito or something. Well, I must say, the Singing Crystal Caves were a bit of a disappointment. There were hardly any crystals there at all. Lots of broken stumps so I guess there used to be a lot more. Real shame. There were some pretty ones, though. I don’t know that you’d call it singing, really, more like a low hum. Maybe if there were more of them, it would be better. We did manage to find a decent sized one for a souvenir, though, so that’s nice. I know just where to put it back home. “

“The Wild Safari was a nice idea, but most of the animals just ran or hid from us! I finally managed to corner a cute monkey-looking thing with long ears for a picture with me, but it really didn’t seem to like being picked up. It’s a good picture, though. I’ve already posted it to my travel blog. We were starving by the time lunch was served. That on-the-go excuse for breakfast is not for me. I’m taking extra tomorrow, even if I don’t get to sit down and eat it. Trying to eat on the gyrating back of that big riding creature, however, was a disaster! Rolling back and forth on six legs. A picnic that was not. Maybe you should build some picnic tables instead. Or some nice air conditioned trolleys. The broganda kind of smelled like an animal,if you know what I mean.”

Star shine, Watkins Family. Today is a day among the locals. You have a tour of historic temples, ancient Nilaxian ruins, and a Ritual Mating Ceremony on your agenda. The ceremony is completely authentic and not adjusted for cultural or maturity differences.

Please note that it is against intergalactic law to remove natural artifacts or cultural relics from a native planet unless purchased in a reputable gift shop.

We understand that native customs can be different than what you are used to, and that the adjustment can be difficult for some. There are tables on the veranda if you would prefer to eat your morning meal sitting down. There are also foreign dining options a few hundred steps from the resort, but they are not included in your Interstellar Industries travel plan.

Stand by for a request for commerce.

Get your official Nilaxian souvenirs at the spectacular Bazaar of Northern Bandizor! Trinkets of memory, traditional Nilaxian garments, branded outfits, unique collectibles. Traders are ready to consider your value, and ALL currencies are welcome! (Foreign exchange rates negotiable.) Ask your Travel Assistant for easy transport to the Bazaar of Northern Bandizor!

“This is Cadence. My parents are getting drinks. They said they needed them after today. I guess it made them thirsty. Most of it made me bored. The ruins were just big rocks and boring old shacks. They didn’t even have electricity or anything. The temples were even worse. They had electricity, but there was nothing to do there. Everyone was just standing around talking. The only really interesting thing today was the mating ritual. That was the best thing on this planet! You should have those every day!”

“CADENCE! Get away from Widget, and I don’t want to hear another word from you about that ritual. Go get ready for the pool. Your father is going to take you swimming.”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are. Go on, take him to the pool so I can give Widget today’s report.”

“Alright, Widget, you can delete whatever Cadence told you; he’s not an adult, so it wasn’t an official report. The ruins were fine. It would be better if they were in the middle of the city, instead of way out there on the mountain slope, but I guess you can’t move them very easily. As expected, let’s say. The temple was very interesting. We learned a lot about Nilax culture and history and stuff.”

“That ritual, however. You need a warning on that! First of all, there were three people getting married? I don’t understand that. Apparently, they’ve got three different types of Nilaxans. There’s boys, and girls, and something else; I don’t get it, and I already know more than I was planning to! We don’t consummate the marriage at the ceremony on Earth. I had to cover Cadence’s eyes, though I couldn’t hold on to him for long. And James wasn’t exactly much help. He was almost as bad as our boy. I have to admit, the dancing was interesting, though. Never seen three-person dancing like that. And the costumes were gorgeous. All those metallic feathers they wore really caught the sunlight. I bought a dress for myself just like it from the Bazaar. I could have spent the whole day shopping there.”

“Widget, this is James. We’re all packed and ready to go. Thanks for all the help. We’re leaving a few Earth bills on the table. It’s all I had left by the time Martha left the Bazaar. Never heard of the bargaining starting with the customers! “What value do I place on this,” indeed. Might as well have said, how much are you willing to lose at this table. Anyways, final rating is 3 out of 5 stars for us. It’s a nice enough place, but didn’t quite live up to the marketing, in our opinion. I did finally try that Nilax fruit, by the way. It was actually delicious. I picked up some extra from the buffet and stashed them in my suitcase.”

Thank you for your feedback on planet [Nilara]. Your rating will be added to the galactic average and their compensation for your visit will be adjusted accordingly. Enjoy your trip home with Interstellar Industries. Your bonus travel points will be credited to your account shortly.

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