education

I decided long ago that I wanted to know everything.

I wanted all of the knowledge I could attain, anything that would fit into my skull. But I could not resign myself to the bland facts presented on Comweb or Govweb, the universal “information” networks. There are a thousand careers I might have chosen and excelled at, a thousand more I could have resurrected from the dead. Historian, environmentalist, poet, archaeologist…these no longer exist. But I must work within this world. So I learned how to fly ships.
My grandparents raised me with their old-fashioned notions of books, of words set down with a purpose. How ironic that as science helps our elderly to live longer and healthier, the rest of society values their knowledge that much less. It is easy to become soulless, and do not blame me for my misanthropy. I have lived long in space.
I was sixteen when my grandparents died, one after another in quick succession. Suddenly the universe reared up in front of me and confronted me with the truth: it is empty. The void of space swallows everything we do, everything we make. Mortals have few defenses against this darkness.
My own parents had been consumed into this blind world, no better than drones. I do not know what spark was in me that made me look beyond. There is a universe of things to learn, and I would find a way to experience them.
My grandparents gone, school a painful joke, the prospect of a dingy Gov job, an utterly unfulfilling life…I could not afford an offworld ticket, but I headed down to the Spacedocks anyway. Once there I found a likely-looking ship and a comfortable looking crate, broke the law and made myself a stowaway. It was, at that point, the most impulsive decision of my life.