Astira & Spotz set up camp in a small second story room overlooking
the Trading District. She took her fork & scraped a portion of her
rice & meats onto a small dish for Spotz, as she fed Spotz only that
which she would eat herself. As they enjoyed their first dinner on
Temasek, Astira gazed out the window over the Trading District. Lights
began to appear throughout the darkening city as a round orange sun
gradually turned into a sliver of deep red on the distant horizon.
Gleaming spacecraft floated up and down throughout the airspace as a
canopy of stars gradually grew bright in the night. Of course, none of
the star patterns were familiar to her. Everything about this world
felt strange & dangerous. But Temasek defined a critical thread in
psychohistory. If Temasek fell into barbarism, the string of worlds
along the Silk Path trading route would collapse like a row of
dominoes and a galactic backbone of civilization would be lost. This
could delay the emergence of a new & better galactic empire by
thousands of years. Thousands of years she thought, & she smiled at
the thought of Temasek as a single silken thread of microhistory one
millenium in length.
But what about tomorrow, and the day after that? For that she would
have to think of something, figure something out on the spot, so to
speaks. At least she did not have to worry about money, after all she
carried 4 leaves of gold- each one ounce leaf could be discreetly
traded for one year of goods & services anywhere in the galaxy,
regardless of hyperinflated local currencies left behind in the wake
of the fallen Galactic Empire.
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