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Options
He walked into the non-descript office building, noting the rows of plastic chairs filling the center space. All around the perimeter were small offices, most of their frosted glass doors closed at the moment. He went to the reception desk and signed his name onto the sheet of paper as indicated. From the number of names left below those names that had been crossed out, he figured he had a bit of a wait.
Another hour or two longer won't be a problem. I've been waiting long enough.
The seats in the block of chairs were mostly taken but there was an empty one towards the back about three seats in. He moved to take it, excusing his interruption of the others who had to move. Sitting down, he took note of the large posters designed to catch the eye and induce in the viewer a desire to visit their topics. Pictures of freight ships, as well as the various planets accessible by them - albeit with trips measuring in years - graced those walls. He knew he wasn't the only one checking them out. His seatmates also appeared drawn to those sights which didn't surprise him in the least.
We're all here for the same reason.
The woman next to him smiled. She looked to be in her mid twenties. "You look pretty young to be here. Are you part of a family group?"
"No. I'm old enough to sign on." Barely.
"Oh. Ok." She paused. "I'm going to join my boyfriend on the Falcon. He signed on a year ago and now they have another opening. I can't wait to see him again."
"I'm sure he'll be glad to see you." And I can't wait to get out there amongst the stars.
Over the next forty five minutes or so he continued to chit chat with the various people that took one of the seats beside him during the wait; although if he'd had his way, he would have kept to himself. Throughout the time he was waiting, he knew the exterior door that was now behind him would open, bringing in more people that wanted to get off the Earth and out into boomer land. Since business was good, it was likely they'd all find a berth.
Finally, with no one beside him, he considered his decision for the hundredth time, or so it seemed. He needed to be out there in space, in deep space, and it didn't seem that anyone on Earth was going to push the agenda to get there. Five years before, his father had succumbed to Clarke's Syndrome. Since then, the warp 5 project had stalled. The world, although moving closer together in many ways, still maintained sovereign status over their military forces. There didn't appear to be the desire to pull together to reach into space.
Just the way the Vulcan's like it, he thought bitterly.
Well, if that was the way it was going to be, he wasn't going to play that game. He'd join a boomer ship and at least get some time out beyond the solar system. If not deep space, near space would have to do.
As focused as his thoughts were, he didn't hear or see the man approach and find a seat next to him.
"Your mother said I'd probably find you here."
Jon lifted his eyes only mildly surprised to see a good friend of his father's. "You shouldn't have come. I've made up my mind." He turned his head away.
Keeping his gaze ahead, he didn't see Commander Forrest's slight slump of his shoulders. "Giving up so you can become a boomer and move freight? I thought your father's engine meant more to you than that."
The younger man's eyes flashed as his head snapped back. "You know what his engine meant – and not just to me. To all of humankind. If we're ever going to get out there, that's what is going to take us." The words were spoken with near awe.
"Exactly," the man stated as if to acknowledge that truth. "So why are you here?"
"Because our Vulcan overlords won't ever let us reach that goal. Not in my lifetime."
The argument was one that the young man focused on too many times and Forrest let out a sigh before responding. "They're not our overlords, Jon. They just have more experience out there than we do. Better to move cautiously. "
"Cautiously." The word was said with derision. "Cochrane wasn't cautious. I wish the Vulcans hadn't even made first contact with us. We'd already have the warp five engine finished and taking us where we need to be. Dad would have seen it operational."
"You don't know that," Forrest reasoned. "Much of the Vulcans' advice is sound. Your father told me that many times."
"I guess," the younger man conceded. "Still, it's going to be years before they help us enough for Dad's ship to fly. You see anything changing?"
"Maybe." The word was said with a hint of mystery.
"Listen, I know Mom's not happy with my coming down here. She has her heart set on my entering Stanford next fall. But if I don't do this now I might never get out there."
"You'll make it to the stars, but this isn't the way to do it." The military man paused. "Come walk with me, Jon."
"If I leave, I'll lose my place in line."
"Tell you what. If you don't like what I have to say, I have a friend on the Endeavor that would hire you on with my recommendation. No wait."
Jon looked into the eyes of the man he knew he could trust. "Ok," he said standing up. "I'll hear you out."
Forrest smiled and led the way out. "I haven't been to the Golden Gate Conservatory in awhile. Seems like a good place to talk." Nodding over to Fulton Street which was a block over, they walked towards it. The Conservatory was a few blocks walk from there.
"Sure." He knew the metal and glass Victorian building well as it was one of his parents' favorite places to visit. He also knew that there were places to talk in the building where they wouldn't be overheard. He wasn't sure why Commander Forrest was being so careful but he knew the man was moving up the Air Force ranks quickly and likely knew things not open to the general public.
As the two walked to the building, Forrest asked Jon about his piloting classes. The boy had started to learn to fly old style single prop aircraft when he was ten and had received his private pilot's license the month before. Jon excitedly told him about the recent news on that front explaining he'd been tested on six different configurations of aircraft, including some of the newer technology models. Forrest put his hand around Jon's shoulder. "You're a natural in the air, that's for sure."
"I want to be a natural in space. Earth isn't enough for me."
"You will be, Jon. You just need to learn patience."
Arriving at the elaborately domed white and glass creation that had been a San Francisco landmark since 1879, the two entered. Forrest swiped his card to deduct the credits for their admission.
As they walked through the rooms containing the tropical plants, they barely noticed the beautiful foliage, as Forrest was obviously headed towards the aquatic plants section of the building. While they traversed these spaces, he kept up the conversation. "You know that Earth's president has been pushing for expansion of omni-planet departments."
Jon nodded. "Yes, sir. I guess since the health and human welfare initiatives have been so successful, they want to do more. My mom's father said he would never have believed we could eradicate hunger in his lifetime until he saw it happen."
"President Wilmnet knows that to keep up the momentum we need to continue to expand beyond the solar system. Our disagreements with Mars and the Lunar Colonies have been resolved and the boomer trade and scientific breakthroughs from our cross species initiatives have shown that this is the best way to assure future prosperity for all."
Jon had been keeping up on current events. "I read about that. There are people in the senate, though, that aren't in agreement with that assessment."
"Compromise is still a viable way to move forward."
Finding a bench overlooking the lily pod pool, the two sat down. "What are you saying?"
"The senate has agreed to provide funding and support for a new service. It's to be called Starfleet. It will take a few years to get it fully functional and chartered, though. The plan is to allow members from other services to make a unilateral move. A few hundred at first but that will increase as the organization grows."
"Starfleet? "
"Yes. The vision is to develop the service as a research, exploration, and diplomatic arm of United Earth. One of their first agencies will be a space probe mission."
"What do the Vulcans have to say about this?" Jon asked skeptically.
Forrest shrugged. "They're not one hundred percent behind it but aren't making insurmountable waves. The senate has agreed that it's the best direction to go without other deep space capabilities."
"Good for them." Jon tilted his head slightly. "Why are you telling me this, Commander Forrest?"
"Because, Jon, I'll be moving to Starfleet within the month. We're going to need young people like you. People with a fire in their gut to get out into the stars. People that can keep the goal in sight. People that will take your father's engine out where it belongs."
"You're talking years before that happens."
"You're seventeen. You have those years to build into. I don't believe you'll regret taking this path."
Jon grew quiet as he thought. Finally he spoke. "So, my options are…a sure bet to get out into near space as a boomer or betting on the hopes that this new United Earth initiative is going to have legs."
"That's pretty much it," Forrest agreed, smiling. "You sound like your father."
Jon lips pulled into half grin. "I guess I picked up that turn of phrase from him." He paused. "You mind if I think about it?"
"Sure, Jon. Whatever you decide, I'll support your decision."
"Thanks. I appreciate that."
The older man got up. "I need to get to another appointment. I should be around later, though."
"Ok." As Forrest walked off, Jon called out once more. "You're taking the plunge yourself? It's a risk for your career, isn't it?"
"It's a risk worth taking in my opinion," Forrest responded with certainty.
Jon's eyes looked down for a moment before he raised them again. "I don't need to wait, Commander. I know which option I'll take." He got up. "I'll walk back to your car with you."
Forrest agreed and they walked towards the exit.
As they moved back through the rooms, Jon noticed the orchids and other plants blooming. He liked seeing the different plants and wondering what he might see out further in the galaxy. "I guess this new service is going to need college graduates. Mom will be happy that I'll be at Stanford. "
"Yes, she will," the older man agreed, a sure smile on his face at the knowledge that Jonathan Archer would make a fine addition to the new Starfleet.