Wormbender's Circus

Back on the moon they hired some welding robots and some lifting gear and test equipment and set to work on the Semiramis. The first job was to thoroughly clean the ship inside and out. Giant vacuum cleaners scoured the inside of the hull, blowing great clouds of dust out into the air trapped beneath Casey’s atmosdome. The robots working on the outside of the ship fired jets of air at the hull to clean off the dust, and they scrubbed and scraped at the caked grime that formed almost a second skin.

Sebastian sat close by and watched the floodlit progress of the robots. He was tinkering with a graphimat. Casey came and peered over his shoulder. On the graphimat screen, Sebastian was filling in the ship’s outline with a colour scheme of red, yellow and pale blue. On the ground beside him were printouts showing an assortment of other colour schemes, all quite spectacular. Common to all of them was the lettering: `Wormbender’s Galactic Circus’.

“I can’t decide on a colour scheme,” Sebastian sighed. “Is there any one of these you prefer?”

Casey flipped through the designs. “Why not have all of them? Cover the whole ship with chameleochrome scales, and you can have a continuously changing display.”

“Sounds good,” Sebastian agreed.

“It’ll just take a day or two to fit when we’ve done all the other work. And then she’ll really look like a circus.”

Casey had a twinkle in his eye as he imagined how the ship would look. Something of his childhood, long buried under all that had come since, had made its way triumphantly to the surface. He was whistling as his saucer sped away. Sebastian smiled broadly as he crumpled up the graphimat printouts.

The days passed, and piece by piece the conversion work on the ship was done, masterminded at every step by Casey, who proved himself to be no mean engineer. Sebastian was turning his attention to the crew quarters. He consulted shipfitters and furnishers, and set about replacing the existing spartan cabins with an atmosphere of comfort and warmth. Soft colours, padding, muted lighting and all the comforts of home were built in, as he foresaw the ship being home for a long time.

Finally, when all the other work was complete, Casey oversaw the application of millions of centimetre-square chameleochrome scales to the hull, programmed for a bewildering array of patterns and colours. When the Semiramis made planetfall, there would be no mistaking her: she would be a dazzling cosmic kaleidoscope.

Eventually the day arrived when the Semiramis was to be launched. Sebastian shuttled up from Earth, while Casey began gently warming up the long dormant engines, and Igor ran some final checks, working his way methodically through the ship, system by system.

Casey had sold the yard to his old buddy, Gustav Lindstrom. Lindstrom, a big, heavily-built Swede, had organised a small farewell.

He had hired some musical robots to perform, and in front of the Semiramis he had set up a table with chilled champagne and glasses. When Sebastian’s taxi arrived, Casey came down from the ship to join him.

“Speech, speech!” Lindstrom and his two assistants cheered.

Sebastian stepped forward. He cleared his throat. The showman in him came to the fore. “My friends, this is indeed a great moment. In the history of entertainment there have been some great names. Barnum and Bailey, Billy Smart, Ashton’s, Klopstock and Callaghan. Now these will be joined by another.”

Sebastian took the champagne bottle nearest him and popped the cork. As he filled a glass, he smiled and said, “Gentlemen, I give you Wormbender’s Galactic Circus.”

Suddenly the smooth grey surface of the ship was transformed into a blaze of colour. Patterns like fireworks, blossoming flowers, waves crashing, clouds passing, endless myriad hues exploded into view, always with the words `Wormbender’s Galactic Circus’ superimposed in some contrasting shade. At the same time, `The Entry of the Gladiators’ roared out, and Igor made his entry down a loading ramp on an electric unicycle, juggling glow-globes and wearing a false nose and a bowler hat.

The champagne flowed, and there was much shaking of hands and well-wishing. At last, Sebastian said to Casey that it was time to be going. With a final wave, they and Igor disappeared inside the ship and sealed the hatches. A moment or two later, the lights came on in the cabin, and the two men appeared at the window, waving.

Lindstrom and his men drove back to the office. When they got there, Lindstrom picked up his headset.

“Ready when you are, Casey, old son, over.”

“Open the skyside door, Gus, over.”

A panel in the atmosdome covering the yard opened. The Semiramis shuddered as her engines came on line, lifted, slowly, gracefully, and rose through the aperture.

“Clear of the dome, Gus, over.”

“Good luck, you guys,” Gus chuckled. “And don’t forget, I want two tickets to the first show, over.”

“Sure thing, Gus. See you soon. Over and out.”

The Semiramis turned her nose towards the stars and headed for deep space.