When I left Earth in the first Zipdrive ship humanity built, I knew that nearly two centuries would pass back home before I returned. A one day trip. A two hundred year voyage. One day for a man, two hundred years for mankind.

  It was all auto-pilot though, I was just along for the ride to make sure it didn't kill people with weird radiation we hadn't known about before or something. Two hundred years was a small price to pay for us to advance such science, not like I had a wife or family back on Earth. I was a system kid that made good. Even went and became an damn astronaut test pilot. "Make America Proud, Son."

  I wonder if the countries were still the same. I'm probably gonna have to restudy geography. Damn.

  "Ten seconds until return to normal space." A long dead woman's voice began the count down.

  "Nine."

  I wonder what kind of new tech they've invented.

  "Eight."

  I wonder if they ever figured out flying cars. Probably not.

  "Seven."

  I wonder what crazy new slang there is. I wonder if I'll even understand them. Will I be like... Shakespeare would have been to me.

  "Six."

  God, I hope they have some sort of brain implant universal translators now, that'd be great.

  "Five."

  I hope they have transporters too, that'd be swell.

  "Four."

  And replicators. God I hope it's Star Trek and not all blown to hell.

  "Three."

  "Two."

  "One."

  The shimmering golden light outside the ship crunched through the rainbow, painfully bright as the Zipdrive disengaged and dropped me from my loop around the solar system.

  Oh thank fucking god, there were fireworks, and dozens of ships up in space to greet me.

  "Welcome back to reality Captain Davis." This voice certainly sounded awkward, something about it seemed, unnatural. Like it was reading a phonetic translation of how to speak English.

  I pressed a button on the comms panel that opened a video commline and said, "Thank you, It's good to be back. I look forward to living in your time."

  "We'll talk about that, standby for grappling contact."

  "Did you say grappling?"

  "Standard tractor beam technology would rip your old can apart, so yes."

  There was four simultaneous clangs on my hull and then I was suddenly being pulled up into the closest ship. My ship's sensors were pretty advanced for the time, and I could tell, even without my window coming into view that the ship dragging me inside was huge. The ones I could see out the window, where they had the fireworks, those were obviously far larger than my flying prison cell sized compartment with a once state of the art engine strapped to it.

  As they pulled me in, I asked. "So captain, I'm assuming this is the captain, I'm speaking to, tell me. Did they ever figure out faster than light travel?"

  "Yes, I am the Captain, Captain Tanner. Let's save the debriefing until you're onboard, keep the radio chatter low, the press can hear us." The way the captain spoke, it was like no accent I'd ever heard before, and I didn't wanna mess with press. They could be nuts in my time, and I assumed, were still the same in the future.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  As if to answer my inner musing, I saw a person in a space suit floating by outside my ship's window. There were several flashes of light, and then I saw a grappling hook hit them and yank them away.

  I couldn't help but laugh. I was still chuckling a few moments later when I felt sudden... gravity? Sweet gravity. I spent six months in zero g a few years before I went on this mission. From my point of view it's only been a few days in zero g this time, really. I Launched up to the space station with my backup, they made sure the rocket push up to space hadn't damaged me, gave me a day another day to rest, and then fired me off into the future.

  I think this means we mastered artificial gravity.

  With my ship seemingly settled, I unstrap myself from the only seat, and headed to the exit hatch.

  "Let me know when it's safe to open the hatch, Captain Tanner." I said.

  I waited about ten seconds. I was about to key up the comms and ask again, when he finally said, "Go ahead."

  I grabbed the latch and opened my ship to the future.

  A dozen men in full bio-hazard suits approached me with a purpose. Before I knew what's what I'd been stabbed in the arm, no wait, both arms with a few different needles injecting various fluids.

  "Hey..." I said, "is one of these is an anesthetic?"

  .

  .

  .

  .

  Well, I was right. One of them was. I woke up in a med bay. I'd been in sterile medical rooms before, and this one looked no different.

  "Sorry about that, but your old-ass bacteria could have killed millions. We've taken the liberty of updating your medical situation to modern standards. Also we implanted a translator in your brain." The older gentleman sitting in a chair next to me said, tapping behind one ear to indicate where. I pressed a finger behind my own ear, and there was a tiny bump under my skin. It was a little sensitive to the touch there too, but that was only because I'd freshly had it installed.

  I recognized his voice, but he sounded less awkward speaking now. Not awkward actually, fluent. "Galactic Government mandates all sapient life be able to communicate with one another. I apologize if you feel like your bodily autonomy has been violated, if you'd like to lodge a complaint, I will act as your attorney."

  "What? No... that's all fine, I guess." If they had given me a fully robot body I might be upset, but a translator and vaccines seemed downright reasonable.

  "In any case, the press cannot hear us here, so if you wish I'll answer any questions you have, but first off, yes, we have mastered faster than light travel."

  "Oh, and no one thought to stop me?"

  "Well, initially we didn't know how. At least, not without killing you. And then when we did know how... well, you had become an incredibly... profitable... tourist attraction." The captain winced as he told me this. He knew I wouldn't take well to this news.

  "So I'm...what? Humanity's first space tourist trap?"

  The doctor had been standing by, monitoring my vitals, which I could hear spiking by all the beeps and boops going off suddenly.

  "Calm down Captain Davis," The doctor said. "Take a breath. The Captain here is your attorney as well, and in your interest his company has already established that your estate get ten percent of all profits made from tours of your trip. With an extra twenty for any tours sold during periods of nudity, or defecation."

  Captain Tanner chimed in, "You're a fairly wealthy man, Captain Davis. My predecessors saw to that when the tours started.

  "So... The two times I shit in a bag during the trip... how much money did I make?"

  "The first time you made fourty seven million credits, after interest, in today's currency of course, credits. The dollar is dead. The second time you made half a billion and change. Many alien species were quite fascinated, and willing to pay handsomely, of course to watch you... do things they never seen a human do."

  I didn't know if I wanted to be sick or jump for joy... I wasn't bad at math... and I...

  "Am I a billionaire?" I was pretty sure I was. It had been six hours since that second shit, and if I knew anything about interest, it was that it compounds. "That's still a lot right?"

  "It sure fuckin is," the captain laughed. "You are in the top 2%."

  The doctor cleared his throat. My vitals had stopped making things beep. "Ask him the important question Tanner."

  Captain Tanner cleared his throat as well, and put on a serious face. "Do you want to go for another round. We would put the Zipdrive into a much nicer ship to live in, of course, and give you a little time before going back. Humanity would appreciate your sacrifice captain. You drive our interstellar tourism."

  "I..." Needed a second to think.

  "Tell him the other idea Tanner, the uhh... proposal," The doctor interjected again.

  "Okay doc, okay. The Disney corp, reality-tv branch, wants to do a "Space Bachelor" edition to help you find love, in 6 weeks, before shooting you off in the Zipdrive for another day from your point of view. You'd be contractually obligated to do 'newly wed' things on your honeymoon day. And my team and I have negotiated fifty fifty spits on any profits from tours sold while you're being intimate."

  "Ahh... so not quite star trek yet?"

  The captain frowned, and the doctor laughed. "Hah! Not quite kid. I wish I were Leonard McCoy. He's dead, Jim!"

  "Not helping Doctor," the Captain chided.

  "No, actually, I think he is. I don't think I want to live in this capitalist hellscape, even if I'm on the top of the heap." Having a dragon's hoard of money made me uncomfortable, "You know what, sure. I'll find a woman from a reality show in this time and we'll take a day in the zipdrive. Maybe I'll find my socialist utopia in two hundred more years."

  authorized, but if you're here, then you done good and came to reward the author's algorithm.