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Valpartha: One Woman’S Quest;: An Interstellar Romance
Valpartha: One Woman’S Quest;: An Interstellar Romance
Valpartha: One Woman’S Quest;: An Interstellar Romance
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Valpartha: One Woman’S Quest;: An Interstellar Romance

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What would it be like to be an adventurous woman living for ten years on a spaceship bound for a distant star? What adventures would be in store for an intrepid female scientist and her male paramour exploring a vast unknown planet half permanently frozen and dead, the other half warm and teeming with life? What would it be like for space travelers to live in an advanced matriarchal civilization where Earths dominant patriarchal values are considered alien and are questioned and suppressed? These are some of the questions raised in Valpartha: One Womans Quest;: An Interstellar Romance.

The first-person protagonist, Swedish geologist Astrid Svenson, leaves Earth behind forever to explore and record scientific findings on unknown planets for the European Space Agency. She experiences adventure, triumph, terror, mishap, but above all, love and romance, as she and her husband, French botanist Henri Brule, share their lives and love together, exploring two planets and two cultures at opposite ends of the continuum of civilization.

Both the highly civilized matriarchal Valparthans and the hunter-gatherer Arkenuans welcome the space travelers onto their planets to share their cultures. On the matriarchal planet of Valpartha, good will go only so far in dealing with fundamental cultural differences and the expectations of their host society. On the wild and unknown planet of Arkenu, friendly natives sometimes rescue their expedition from hostile tribes, though at other times, they must fight alone for survival on an alien world.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherXlibris US
Release dateNov 30, 2016
ISBN9781524557249
Valpartha: One Woman’S Quest;: An Interstellar Romance
Author

Dale Shillito

At the age of ten, my parents moved to a house on a wooded lake with a dark night sky. I was able to see the Milky Way and thousands of stars. I became fascinated by astronomy. I was also interested in art, writing, and geography. In college, I was intrigued to learn from a women’s study professor that there is no true matriarchy on Earth. While there are matrilineal societies, women do not rule directly but select male leaders. I reasoned women are as intelligent as men, why shouldn’t there be an advanced matriarchal society somewhere, and what would such a society be like? I wrote a short story on the topic, introducing the planet Valpartha, which won first prize in a national Phi Theta Kappa writing contest. This achievement was laid aside as I began a new midlife career after obtaining a master’s degree in geography at Temple University. I worked as a geographic specialist/cartographer for the US Bureau of the Census, participating in three decennial census operations. After early retirement, I began writing again in earnest, publishing Where Cross the Crowded Ways of Life—a 120-page nonfiction church history for Arch Street UMC in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, for its 150th anniversary in 2012. The title is taken from an old Methodist hymn, which once was the urban church’s pet theme. Valpartha: One Woman’s Quest has been written since that time, in addition to writing Volume 2 of Where Cross the Crowded Ways of Life, 1923–Today, which is also now ready for publication.

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    Valpartha - Dale Shillito

    Valpartha:

    One Woman’s Quest;

    An Interstellar Romance

    Dale Shillito

    Copyright © 2016 by Dale Shillito.

    Cover art by: Dennis Davide

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Rev. date: 11/23/2016

    Xlibris

    1-888-795-4274

    www.Xlibris.com

    746227

    Contents

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    Chapter 22

    Chapter 23

    Chapter 24

    Chapter 25

    Chapter 26

    Chapter 27

    Chapter 28

    Chapter 29

    Chapter 30

    Chapter 31

    Chapter 32

    About The Author Dale Shillito

    To Beth Healey, a women’s study/Phi Theta Kappa honor professor

    and mother, whose offhand comment inspired the concept of

    Valpartha: If men had babies, women would rule.

    HOLD FAST TO YOUR DREAMS

    Hold fast to your dreams;

    They’re your future stretching before you.

    Believe in your dreams;

    They’re the most precious possession you own.

    Search hard for your dreams;

    Develop your interests and talents.

    Discover yourself, and see what you can do.

    Then follow your dreams; they can carry you far.

    Your dreams are your passport

    To the life you want to lead.

    They’re something to plan for, to strive for,

    to live for every day.

    Persevere with your dreams,

    though success may not be easy.

    Though frustrations may burden you down,

    Dreams aren’t defeated by setbacks like these.

    Dreams only die when you give up on them.

    Fulfill your dreams.

    Work harder, do more, be better,

    Most of all—do better than any man, my daughter.

    The Best find it easier to succeed.

    You must make your mother proud!

    A poem by Anitra Bremer, written for

    her soon-to-be-born daughter,

    Astrid Svenson,

    twenty-six years before this story begins.

    CHAPTER 1

    66_b_aaa.jpg     66_a_aaa.jpg

    A LL RIGHT, ASTRID, what’s your great news?

    I was sitting across from my mom, Anitra Bremer, at an old wood-paneled smorgasbord bar in Gamla Stan. I had brought her here to celebrate with me, although the medieval narrow streets and buildings of this oldest district of Stockholm, Sweden, stood in contrast to the space age news I had to tell.

    "I got the job! I’ve been chosen to be explorer/earth science officer on the Europa expedition to Alpha Centauri!"

    Congratulations, Astrid! I knew you could do it! Mom reached across the table and gave me a hug. Mom was, like me: tall, sturdily built, and with naturally blonde hair and blue eyes. In her case, the blonde was starting to gray. I felt especially close to her, since my parents had divorced when I was a baby.

    Mom had worked in a steel mill in Kiruna in the far north of Sweden. The town is extremely isolated, windswept by bitter-cold Arctic winds up to nine months a year, with an abbreviated spring/summer/autumn season of midnight sun compressed into weeks. I loved skiing and dogsledding in the winter. In summer we’d hike or canoe on the tundra or below the tree line. In some ways I had an ideal childhood, but Mom always had me under constant pressure to succeed. Now I felt I could show her that I would live up to her expectations.

    I really didn’t think I had a chance, I admitted. There were nine men with advanced geology degrees competing against me for the job.

    I’ve heard geology jobs are hard to get, now that fossil fuels are declining and renewables that don’t require mining are replacing them.

    Tell me about it! Listen, I’ve been looking for eighteen months.

    We ate our meal, occasionally looking out over Lake Maleren, at pleasure boats sailing past.

    Do you plan to retire down here in Stockholm, Mom? I asked.

    Yes, of course, darling. The far north is no place to live if you don’t work there anymore. Listen, I’m not an astronomer. Where is this Alpha Centauri your spaceship is taking you?

    It’s the nearest star in the universe, four and a half light-years away. Scientists detected what sounded like faint feminine voices coming from that triple-star cluster. They believe there may be intelligent life there.

    You’ve always been interested in outer space, haven’t you, dear? Mom recalled with a smile. I remember you used to drag that telescope of yours out on bitter-cold nights in the winter and look at the stars. You’d stay out there for hours. I’d be freezing and go back inside after a few minutes.

    The skies up north were so dark and clear you could see thousands of stars! The first thing I remember as a child was looking up and seeing aurora borealis, those pastel lights dancing across the sky. The Milky Way looked like a ribbon of cloud that moved with the stars. I was hooked! I studied the moon. I learned names of every first-magnitude star. I followed the planets moving from one constellation to the next.

    I understand the European Space Alliance is sponsoring your flight. How long will it take you to get there?

    Ten years.

    And ten years to come back?

    No, Mom. We won’t be coming back. We’re to establish a permanent colony there.

    Never come home? Oh dear! Are you sure this is what you want to do?

    Yes, I want you to be proud of me, Mom. You always say success comes to those who go farthest to find it. I smiled, toasting my hoped-for success with my glass of lingonberry tea. Mom lifted her glass halfheartedly.

    I am proud of you, Astrid. You’re twenty-six years old and still have your life ahead of you. I’m now in my sixties, feeling like I missed opportunities in my life. If this is your chance for self-actualization, I suppose you… must… take . . . it.

    Self-actualization, Mom, that old Maslow concept? Yes, indeed! That’s what I want: true fulfillment of my potential. Like you say, women sell themselves short when they marry and give up their independence to a man. Well, I’m not married, nothing to tie me down here to Earth. I’ve been reading about women explorers. History doesn’t give our sex its due for the courage and determination it takes for a woman to set off into the unknown, to risk to find what’s out there. This is my chance to make history! To explore new planets! New civilizations! I’ll be the first!

    I ignored tears welling up in Mom’s eyes. I knew it would be hard on her and had dreaded telling her. Trying to avoid eye contact, I chattered on while concentrating on my plate of smoked bokling and Skane potatoes smothered in chanterelle mushrooms and melted febodstot cheese.

    I assumed Mom was enjoying her meal as well. When I did look up, I saw to my horror Mom was holding her chest as if in agony. She was gasping for breath. Her face was pale and moist. Never… see… you… again? she mumbled. She seemed to be fading out of consciousness.

    I knew at once these were signs of a heart attack. I gently supported her head and dropped her to the floor. The maître d’ called for an ambulance as I started chest thrusts and artificial resuscitation, having just learned these techniques as part of my training for the space mission. When the paramedics came, they quickly took over for me and rolled Mom into the emergency vehicle for transport to the nearest hospital.

    I sat alone in the waiting room, blaming myself. Why had I broken the news that I was never coming back so casually, so callously, so uncaringly? After an eternity, I was called to the desk where I was met by a surgeon.

    Astrid Svenson? he asked. I understand you gave your mother CPR before the ambulance arrived. If so, you probably saved her life.

    She’s still alive? I asked hopefully.

    Yes, she’s weak, but we’ve stabilized her heartbeat. She’s in ICU being carefully monitored.

    Tears came to my eyes in front of the doctor. It’s all my fault! I cried. I got her upset.

    The doctor reassured me, It’s certainly not your fault, Astrid. The Scandinavian diet is notoriously hard on the arteries. Her doctor suggested for years that she try a Mediterranean diet, low on fat with lots of vegetables and fruit. She’s stubborn. You must know that.

    Unable to see Mom in intensive care, I went back to my apartment and basically sulked. Of course, I knew she was stubborn. So am I. It runs in our family. Another stubborn member of our family was my aunt Ingrid, Mom’s younger sister.

    I returned to the hospital after being informed that Mom had been moved to a private room. Aunt Ingrid was there seated in a chair, watching television. Mom appeared to be asleep. I kneeled over and kissed her. Tears were in my eyes.

    Mom, I’m sorry, I whispered. I didn’t mean to shock you that I wasn’t coming back. Mom said nothing, but I thought I saw her wink. I stood up and turned around.

    Hello, Astrid, Ingrid said. The surgeon said Annie may need coronary bypass surgery. Be prepared.

    How would I prepare for that?

    Quit your job and be ready to take care of her full-time when she comes home.

    I’m just about to start a new job. I’m in training right now.

    That will make it easier for you to resign.

    Resign? This is the start of the career I dreamed of all my life! Why don’t you resign?

    I’m six months short of retirement. I want my full pension.

    "Well, I’m due to leave on the Europa, that ESA spaceship bound for Alpha Centauri. It leaves for space in six months."

    You’re a selfish, ungrateful daughter, Astrid!

    Mom always said I should pursue my dreams no matter what the cost.

    Well, she certainly didn’t include her own life as one of your ‘costs.’

    Let’s make a deal. I’ll take care of her until I’m ready to leave. You take care of her after that.

    No deals. It’s your responsibility to take care of your mother.

    Mom opened her eyes and sat up in bed. Ingrid! Some sister you are! You’re the selfish, ungrateful one! All these years, Astrid has been a faithful daughter while you rarely even came to visit. We all have to make sacrifices if Astrid is to be a success. I’ve accepted that I’ll never see my daughter again when she leaves for space. It’ll be hard, but it needs to be. You’ve taken me for granted for far too long, only venturing up north to Kiruna when you needed to borrow money.

    Annie, that’s not true! I-I just don’t take the cold very well.

    Is that why you went to the Mediterranean when I gave you money to pay ‘back bills’?

    All right, I’ll take care of you when you get out of here, but I’m not quitting my job.

    I never asked you to, Mom said. She turned to me. Astrid, I want you to go! It’s an adventure I might have taken myself years ago. I know you’ll make me proud of you, and I’m sure whatever you find there will be wonderful. You said the scientists heard women’s voices from Alpha Centauri. The feminine voice I want to hear is yours. Please keep in touch when you set out on your journey.

    Our final training sent me to the European Space Alliance’s headquarters in Paris, France. Though the city of lights beckoned so nearby, we were given virtually no time to see it during training. We were literally immersed in experiencing life on a spaceship. I was among the first group placed aboard the dark cramped confines of a French naval submarine submerged below the Seine River for a week. It gave us our first claustrophobic glimpse of ten years in space. We were next strapped down in reclining chairs and subjected to the intense gravitational force of liftoff from Earth. Later we experienced weightlessness of space. The training program was also a boot camp for physical fitness with strenuous exercises required of both men and women. Even resting in the women’s dormitory proved a challenge. Like the spaceship, the dorm provided no privacy and no room for a tall woman to stretch. I consoled myself that I would be of officer rank and might have better accommodations.

    The training was as much a weeding-out process as a learning experience. We started out with over one hundred recruits. We were soon reduced to less than fifty. All of us lay with aching muscles or a throbbing head, wondering if we really wanted to do this. Did we really want to risk everything, endure everything, and sacrifice everything? Did I really want to leave my mom, my friends, and all I’ve ever known on Earth?

    I’ve said that I am stubborn, but I doubt I would have stuck with it except for my mom. Yes, Mom! Mom was now enthusiastic about my taking this adventure. What would make her prouder than for her daughter to be the first to explore interstellar space and to discover the life on another world? She reminded me of my fascination of astronomy and exploration. She even recalled my childhood dream of someday traveling to Pluto to look for kryptonite.

    Mom was proud that it was the European Space Alliance that was leading this expedition. Europeans had always been the great explorers. Throughout history, peoples from other continents did not discover Europe. Europeans explored the world. Mom also wanted me to proudly exemplify Swedish women on this trip. She always insisted Swedes were the smartest, most independent, and bravest women on Earth! Mom was shocked when I told her I was the only Swedish woman left in training. She pleaded with me to represent my country and my gender. I persevered.

    Upon graduation, Mom had recovered enough to travel with Aunt Ingrid to meet me in Paris. It was the first time any of us had seen the city. Living in Stockholm, we had, of course, heard of the Left Bank art colony, the sidewalk cafes, the cathedrals, and the palaces. Stockholm had variations of all these but certainly not on such a grand scale! I was floored to see original Da Vinci and great Renaissance paintings at the Louvre and saddened that few Scandinavian artists were on the walls. It was wonderful spending that last week with Mom there. The three of us toured the city together. All too soon it was time for her to return to her doctor in Stockholm and for us to sadly say farewell—forever.

    CHAPTER 2

    007_b_aaa.jpg     007_a_aaa.jpg

    T HE SPACEPORT OF the European Space Alliance is in French Guiana. Traveling to this spot in tropical South America, I saw for the first time the bright star Alpha Centauri gleaming in the night sky, with flecks of red against white as it twinkled. The spaceport overlooked the Atlantic Ocean, small white waves flashing in the sunlight. An azure-blue sky was overhead, aqua water melting into it on the horizon. I looked out knowing this would be my last remembrance of Earth.

    I boarded the ESA shuttle craft with a tear in my eye. I was thinking of Mom. She had wanted to see me off, but her doctor advised against it. Onboard the shuttle I found about twenty fellow crewmates I had first met in training at ESA headquarters in Paris.

    When everyone was strapped in, the pilot gunned the engine, and the shuttle craft took off like a regular jet-line. Once we were aloft, we quickly accelerated and were flying at a sharply upward angle. We were soon passing over equatorial Africa, then out over the Indian Ocean. Beyond the exosphere, we leveled off and began circling Earth in orbit. The spaceship Europa came into view. It was gigantic. It had an odd cone-like shape with a halo around its tip. I thought it looked weird, but I would soon find out why it was so designed.

    We entered the docking bay of the Europa and disembarked into a pressurized room to acclimate ourselves to the environment onboard. When we were allowed to enter the ship proper from the decompression chamber, we were greeted by a short plump man with white balding hair and a Wagnerian beard, also sporting a red alcoholic nose. He appeared to be in his sixties. He introduced himself as Captain Sadok Schwartz. He then introduced his wife, Bethilda, and teenage daughter, Elise. Also greeting us were other crewmates who had arrived on an earlier shuttle flight.

    "Welcome aboard the Europa, your home for the next ten years, spoke the captain. Space is limited onboard, so I hope you stayed within weight limits for belongings brought aboard. We have a reception for you here in the cafeteria, where you can meet one another."

    We rode the elevator to the cafeteria where spiked punch and particularly tasty hors d’oeuvres were served. I was told that a Frenchman onboard had prepared them. I assumed he was the chef. He was not. Generally the cafeteria food onboard would not come anywhere near this standard.

    I chatted with fellow crew members. We were from all over Europe, though roughly half were German. Languages come easily to me. I speak German, Norwegian, English, and French as well as my native Swedish. I talked with a number of people, forgetting all their names. It didn’t matter. I’d soon know them all intimately in the tight confines of the ship. I noticed the captain’s daughter, Elise, had been joined by three other teenagers. We didn’t get a chance to speak as Captain Schwartz addressed us again.

    "The Europa, our spaceship, is an incredible piece of engineering, literally light-years ahead of the technology of its predecessors, he bragged. It was constructed here in space so that its design would not be hindered by the compromises necessitated by breaking through the Earth’s gravity and atmosphere. The basic design seen from the outside looks like a giant disc antenna attached to a tapering cone. The giant disc has a dual purpose. Around its perimeter is a radio telescope and receiver able to capture and amplify sound and light from vast distances away. The disc is also the relay and receiving station for communications. The concave disc also serves as a ‘basket,’ collecting stray particles of hydrogen floating in space, used to supplement our own nuclear fuel supply. These hydrogen particles are far apart in space to be sure. However, traveling at half the speed of light, we will be collecting huge numbers of atoms. Instead of creating resistance, their energy and heat are converted and used for propulsion. Called the Bussard Ramjet engine, it was first proposed in the late twentieth century but only now is practical to use.

    The cone, or body of the ship, is the working and living area onboard. We have thirty-six crew members: eighteen males, eighteen females. The ship body is divided into twelve floors. Finish your drinks and follow me for the tour.

    The captain led us through the clean cafeteria kitchen into a tavern-like room. This is the rattskeller, my office out of the office. All of you men who enjoy a drink after your shift are welcome. He lifted a stein and drank it. Genuine Bavarian bier on tap!

    We took the elevator to the top floor, which was connected to the radio telescope and dedicated to navigation and communications. There we met with the ship’s navigator/astronomer, an Englishman named Nigel Blythe. Below the top floor was the bridge with panoramic screens giving the captain and ship control personnel a 360-degree view of space. The captain’s real office was located on this floor as well. The three floors immediately below contained men’s and women’s dormitories, gym, recreational facilities, medical facility, and my own science lab. We bypassed the floors of the cafeteria and embarkation port, which we had already seen, and continued to the commissary, areas of storage, and warehousing of supplies.

    Below this level was the farm, where the ship’s food was grown. A ship traveling for ten years could not possibly take along enough food supplies or would want to. Fresh produce, meats, and grains were grown here. This farm covered three floors. The highest floor contained a pool for growing fish and ducks, also a flock of chickens roosted for both eggs and meat. Below in the main chamber, all the grain and produce were grown. All space was utilized. Gravity was shut off in this area so that plants grew on the floor, ceiling, and four walls with a sun-like light suspended in the center to provide for photosynthesis. In the lowest chamber, Henri Brulé, the agronomist onboard, produced compost for enriching the soil, worms for feeding the fish and ducks, and mushrooms for our tables. I was very impressed but was not introduced to the farmer.

    Right below the farm was the huge nuclear engine, which propelled and heated the entire ship. A separate auxiliary engine was using the hydrogen energy collected in the scoop of the antennae as supplementary propulsion.

    After the tour, I retired to my apartment in the science lab on the fifth level. It had limited space. I had made suggestions designing the lab before we left Earth, using my Swedish knack for making the most of limited space. Everything was movable and multifunctional, with floor to tabletop drawers everywhere. I was to have only four students, so the worktable was small. It was equipped with Bunsen burners and flasks, as well as drawers of chemicals. My students sat across from me at the lab table both while I was teaching and while doing experimentation. I would both live and teach in the science lab. I had a small wood-panel bedroom and my own bathroom and shower separated by a small hallway and a walk-in closet.

    I called Mom from the Communications Room and described the ship to her. Oral communications would become increasingly difficult as we headed out of the solar system at half the speed of light. Beyond the Oort clouds, it became impossible, so Mom and I would communicate by laser mail.

    First on the agenda as we began our journey into space was for every crew member to have a physical examination, even though we had just had one before boarding the shuttle craft that took us from Earth to the Europa. This was to see if there had been any physiological changes from the ascent. The rule was ladies first, not because of political correctness but because we women were each to have an IUD (intrauterine device) inserted until we reached Alpha Centauri. Why? Let me digress back to when I was hired.

    Captain Sadok Schwartz called me into his temporary office on Earth for a job interview. He chose most of the crew himself. He certainly had predilections in choosing who he hired. In male personnel he chose men in their thirties, early forties, skilled but also good drinking partners. He actually excluded teetotalers. He was also quite the nationalist, choosing Germans, especially Bavarians like himself, over other candidates, when possible.

    Female personnel that the captain preferred were in their twenties, attractive, with specialized skills. Only the captain’s wife was older than thirty. The captain complimented my long naturally blonde hair and statuesque figure. He bluntly asked in my interview, Do you believe in premarital sex?

    Yes, I replied hesitantly.

    He went on to say he asked the question to all male and female applicants. The purpose of the expedition was to establish a permanent colony in the Alpha Centauri system. He said that for the first ten years women must all wear intra-uterine device to prevent pregnancy. As long as we would be traveling in interstellar space, no marriages would be permitted since marriage leads to thoughts of children, and there was no room onboard the ship to accommodate dozens of babies. Sadok acknowledged that romances would probably bloom and wither before marriages were permitted. When we finally reached Alpha Centauri, pairings of couples would be expected to marry and bear children to keep the colony going for future generations. I protested that as Earth scientist, my job wouldn’t really start until after we reached the planet. I needed an exemption from childbearing until I’d finished my exploratory work. We argued back and forth for several minutes. Finally I angrily said, Do you want an exploratory scientist or a baby maker? If I get hired for a job, I expect to do it and do it well!

    Ten years from now, you will be thirty-six, Ms. Svenson, the captain noted. I’ll give you a two-year exemption, but remember, your childbearing years will be short, and we want that pledge fulfilled.

    All right, I’ll keep that in mind.

    I left Sadok’s office wondering if I should accept the job under the captain’s conditions. Ten years in space, in limbo, was a long time. For a woman it sounded emotionally and sexually depressing, but what of it? My love life here on Earth was depressing too. I was in my midtwenties and yet to meet a man I truly loved.

    That night I thought about what my mom would advise. I knew the answer without even asking her. She would say this was an opportunity of a lifetime—a chance to be on the cutting edge of science. When I arrived, I’d have two full years to make discoveries and exploratory history. I decided to go for it!

    The medical staff onboard consisted of Dr. Jacopo Giafini and his nurse, Daphne Ste. Michelle. Daphne, who doubled as a receptionist in his office, exchanged short biographies with me as I sat waiting for my examination. She was from the French West Indian island of Martinique. She was dark skinned, of mixed genealogy. Her father was a French trader and her mother a native woman. Doc Giafini was Italian, from Palermo on the island of Sicily.

    I was now sitting outside the operating room, waiting for the doctor to insert my IUD. A short but well-proportioned man in an operating gown came into the room and lifted off his mask. His face was clean shaven, swarthy complexioned, and handsome with dark mysterious eyes.

    Astrid Svenson? You’re next. Go in that room, strip, and put on the hospital gown you’ll find there.

    After Daphne had weighed, measured me, and done my vital signs, Doc returned.

    I’ve never thought of myself as being oversexed. Maybe I am. Maybe I’m just more honest. As Doc examined me and asked questions about my health, it occurred to me that I was alone in a room with a handsome man with the only thing between me being naked in front of him was this flimsy hospital gown. That fact did not embarrass me as much as turn me on!

    I’ll admit I was horny. I hadn’t had sex in over a year since I’d broken off with a horribly possessive man back in Sweden. Should I flirt with Doc? I decided not to. We’d be together for the next ten years. Fantasizing was fine for now.

    Fantasizing soon became surreal as I was placed on the operating table and told by Doc to spread my legs. I closed my eyes and felt something entering my vagina. I opened my eyes. Daphne was inserting my IUD. Doc had left the room.

    As previously mentioned, the ship’s food supply was grown organically on the ship’s farm. It was managed under the supervision of Dr. Henri Brulé. Henri originally lived alone on his farm, and although he was friendly and genial, he kept to himself there unless there was something of great interest going on above. He was a proud Frenchman in a mostly German-speaking crew. He had difficulty learning new languages and hated speaking guttural German. Later I found this to be true as I tried to teach him Swedish, another Germanic language. For this reason, it wasn’t until the third year of our voyage that I got to know more than the face of this man who was to become so important in my life. The way that I first met him was interesting, at least for me.

    There was a call for volunteers to help harvest the crops on the farm. At first I had no interest in volunteering. I’d grown up on the tundra near the Arctic Circle. Agriculture there was nearly impossible because of the climate. I had, however, heard that the farm was equipped with steam rooms, heated by the engines below. One day, having nothing better to do, I went down to check them out since I had loved basking in the warmth of saunas back in Sweden. I entered one such room wearing only a large bath towel. Already seated was a handsome man wearing only the skimpiest of hand towels to cover his groin. Saunas in Sweden are communal and coed. I felt no urgency to find another room. The man’s eyes were at first closed as if meditating. He looked pleasantly surprised as he looked up and saw me sitting across from him.

    Good afternoon, he said.

    I noticed he had a French accent, so I responded, "Bon jour."

    We continued our conversation in his native tongue, which pleased him very much. After introductions, I admitted it was my first visit to

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