text: A man with wispy white hair and paint-stained fingers burst onto the bridge. “I wish to speak to Captain Wendroll--immediately!” The ship’s first mate, Ming, stepped away from his controls. “Good to see you, Lon-Der. I’m afraid the captain can’t be bothered. I’ll do my best to handle the matter myself. If needed, I’ll mention it to her in the officers’ mess this evening. What’s troubling you?” “No, I will only speak to the Captain. As the *Raymond*’s chief creative officer, I have as much a right to interrupt her as you bridge lurkers.” The look of amusement slid off First Mate Ming’s face like an egg yolk on drywall. “That’s impossible. And, for the last time, being the only artist on this ship doesn’t make you an officer. You might be a specialist in your field, but you have no authority to take the lift up here and bark orders at me.” Lon-Der’s eyebrows downshifted. “I may not have any pins on my robe, but I am a leader on this ship!” “You’re not.” “I may not have a blaster, but there are many forms of power. One is referent power, the ability to influence based on personal relationships and respect.” “Do you even respect yourself?” That remark hit Lon-Der like a slap. His mouth fell open, and his tongue wandered around for awhile, aimless and confused. “I want to speak to the Captain.” “She’s occupied with important matters.” Lon-Der took a step toward the captain’s study. He was intercepted. This continued several more times. “I think we need to reset here,” Lon-Der said amiably. “Maybe you can help me.” “I live to serve.” “My room is inadequate.” “All the berths are filled.” “Would it be possible for me to swap with someone?” “Why is your room inadequate?” “You see, I’m an artist.” “My room is the same as yours. I find it adequate.” Lon-Der waved his arms, accentuating a set of four billowing sleeves. “I need light. I don’t have any portholes. If I’d wanted to paint off of pictures, I could’ve stayed on my home planet.” “Is that all?” “I was brought along on this mission to study the effects of long-term space travel on creative output.” “Yes, how has that been?” “I’ve been struggling to stay productive. It’s always the same thing on the observation deck. A black void with shimmering dots. Sometimes, they bleed together when we speed up.” First Mate Ming’s face twisted into a malevolent smirk. “I see your problem. Would you like there to be more trees and religious symbolism floating around out there? I’m sure the Captain will get right on that.” “No, no, you idiot!” Lon-Der’s eyes flew open like the shutters on an exploding house. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to know if the Captain would consider doubling-back when we pass interesting sights--planets, nebulas.... Could we at least pass them more slowly? Art takes time. As it is, we zip by everything so fast, I usually end up with a colorful smear.” “What’s the difference?” “I see. Yes, ha! A joke. Good one, Ming.” “Officer Ming.” “Right....” “Say it.” “... Officer Ming, I don’t pretend to know how these technical monstrosities operate, but those requests sound simple enough. The voyage was slated for two years. You can’t tell me the schedule didn’t have a bit of padding factored in.... Please, my time on this ship will be useless without these accommodations.” “We all have to make sacrifices, Lon-Der. Maybe you could invert a few of the smears. Black dots on a white background.” Lon-Der muttered, “That’s not half bad.