The Last Star Train
Rosie, engineer of the Camellia Star Train for the last fifty years, stared down the five Interplanetary Transportation Council members who had been threatening to terminate the line.
"Do I really need to explain who I am or why I'm here?" Rosie didn't need a microphone for her voice to fill the musty, run-down room. There weren't nearly enough chairs for her supporters, forcing most of them to stand in the back or spill into the hallway. She shook a bound pile of papers that was as thick as an antique phone book. "This is just a fraction of the more than 160,000 signatures collected to preserve the Camellia Star for future generations. And you know as well as I do that there are far more than 160,000 signers, most of whom are suspicious of petitions."
It was painfully obvious that Sarah-the-Out-of-Towner was trying not to roll her eyes. Fine thing for her to act so smug when she barely met this planetary system's minimum residency requirements for election, Rosie thought with a barely concealed scowl. Although Ed's attitude isn't much better. She tightened her lips as Ed absentmindedly tapped his pencil against the desk. Of all the people on this council, you should be the last one to voice an objection to preserving the Camellia Star.
"Now, Rosie," - Ed's placating tone made Rosie want to smack him with a ruler - "we all know the Camellia Star has had a good run, but it's time to retire that little old spaceship.The Camellia Star Tea Company hasn't had to use any so-called star trains for the last twenty years. Heck, I can't think of any companies that use leisure-style spacecraft anymore. Businesses have much larger and more efficient cargo vessels for transporting goods and commuters between moons and planets nowadays. Besides being an outdated tourist trap, there's little to be said for the Camellia Star."
"Little to be said?" Oh, this is approaching fighting words now. "On the contrary, Ed, there's plenty to be said." Rosie straightened the bottom of her blouse. Even when dressed in formal attire, she would be the first to admit she looked a bit dumpy - kind of unavoidable after having three kids and being nearly seventy-five. That was in addition to inadequate exercise from spending long hours piloting the Camellia Star. But when she saw the joy on riders' faces, both young and old, her waistline was well worth the sacrifice.
Miles groaned through his nose as he rested his hand on his chin. Rosie refrained from calling the councilman an impertinent whippersnapper, or using much stronger language that would've gotten her thrown out of the meeting.
"Yes, you're getting a speech whether you like it or not." Rosie quit fussing with her hemline, even though her skirt was riding up her butt. She waved her pile of papers for emphasis. "Fifty years, ladies and gentlemen. That's how long the Camellia Star Train has transported passengers and cargo between the terraformed moon Sinensis and our terraformed planet Aspire. Most of this council isn't old enough to remember the early years of terraforming. I won't bore you with a history lesson about an intrepid family business's decision to devote an entire moon to tea cultivation or the challenges of efficiently transporting packaged tea to Aspire. Some of you look about ready to fall asleep as it is." She gave Miles the kind of dirty look a teacher might fling toward an unruly student as a warning. He cleared his throat and sat up straight. That's better.
"Sure, I'll admit that most cargo ships in the Camellia Star Tea Company's fleet are superior in size and speed to the original Camellia Star Train. But do you know what those other ships are missing? History and civic pride." Rosie pulled five sheets of paper from the bottom of her stack and passed them to the council members. "I've taken the liberty of creating a timeline for your review. My associates and I have filed a motion to have the original spaceship and route preserved for future generations as an official working historic destination. Do you realize that we already serve more than 300,000 passengers on the Camellia…
