A Planet Too Far: Beyond the Stars, #1

by Nick Webb

  The ambient noise filter picked up and translated the words, “Help me up.” It seemed to come from the woman in front, the one wearing something that looked like a red tent. The young girl put her arms around the woman and helped to lift her. Something about the narrowness of her shoulders disturbed Tango and sent a chill rippling along the suit liquid.

  Once she was standing, the woman looked up at Tango, her single eye flitting around as she took in the suits. Then her eye widened and she lowered her head again. Quietly, she said, “I don’t understand. Will the Master tell this Voice why the Mergans are attacking the palace of the Euripeas?”

  Tango didn’t think that had translated properly. It made absolutely no sense. “Support, what the heck is she saying? I don’t get it. Is the translation messed up?”

  The pause was noticeable this time. At last, support replied, “Translation confirmed. You’re the first to make contact so I don’t have anything from any of the other teams. Just ask what she means? Maybe it’s code or something. Wait, Intel reports that Mergans is the name of one of the cities and… hold one… okay, that Yoorrippie-ass is the name of another.”

  Great, Tango thought.

  Nine

  The Voice waited while the strange metal-men stood entirely still and didn’t answer. They were so large that they could not be human, yet they had to be Mergans, for the one in front‌—‌who must be their leader‌—‌wore the symbol of the Mergans upon the breast of his metal body. It was not done entirely correctly, but it was clearly meant to be that symbol. The entire metal body was covered in bright shapes and patterns, but that one stood out.

  The red and white stripes, the field of stars upon the left side, the golden fringe like the sun. It was surely some artistic rendition of the symbol for the Mergans’ Palace no more than two hundred miles away.

  The Voice knew that symbol as well as every other palace symbol. The Mergans possessed the land bracketing a mighty river and had more than four hundred masters in their palace. They were feted when they came to the Euripeas Palace, treated as all masters were treated.

  Why would they attack? And how did they create metal-men to do so? What Hand could perform such work? Confusion was replacing her fear. She would be burned for speaking to a Master unbidden, but this one had bidden her to.

  No, this one had asked it of her. No Master that the Voice knew of had ever asked for anything. Commanded, yes. Asked, no.

  At last, the strange booming voice from the metal-man answered her. “Protocol says I should ask for clarification of what you just said, but I’m going to be honest with you. I have no clue what you just said. I don’t know what a Mergans or a Yoorippee-ass is other than the name of a city. We’re not from this planet. We’re the Peace Force and we’re here to help… uh… liberate you.”

  The Voice understood the words, but the context was entirely wrong. Who are they liberating? The books the masters received from the Sky-God when they were made said that they were liberated from an eternal sleep. Is that what this metal-man meant?

  “Are you the Sky-God?” the Voice asked. It was best to just get it over with. If she was to die, then let it happen and be done. If there were more masters to be woken by the Sky-God, then she’d rather not be here to live through it. New masters were terrible and cruel. Many new masters at once would be even worse.

  “Sky-God? You mean the Seed ship? No, I’m not from there. I’m from the Peace Force. I need to ask you some questions,” the metal-man boomed.

  The Voice caught movement from the corner of her eye and saw that some of the Hands near the front had pulled back their hands to cover their ears. The metal-man’s followers noted the movement too, because strange protuberances on their metal bodies rotated and followed some of the movements.

  The words of the metal-man were confusing. Seed ship. Seed was the name given by the Sky-God to the magic by which masters were formed. The divine seed that had traveled the stars to create perfection in the form of the masters. Yet this metal-man had said the words as if speaking of nothing more important than a litter used to carry a master in the palace. Dismissive.

  “This Voice will answer. If these Masters seek the Mergans as your symbol shows, then these Masters have come to the wrong Palace. This Voice will provide these Masters with a map to the Mergans if these Masters so desire it.”

  The metal-man boomed a laugh and said, “You’ve gotta quit talking like that. It’s freaking my girls out here. Can everyone just stand up? It’s weird. As for this symbol, it’s just an old symbol from Earth that I liked. A country called America. It’s one of the places where we originated, but it’s long gone now. So is Earth, for that matter. You know it?”

  The Voice nodded and said, “It is from the Sky-God, one of the many symbols for the Masters and their Palaces. The Mergans. You are not from the Mergans Palace? You are not Sky-Gods seeking the Mergans?”

  “Mergans,” the metal-man said. “It’s wrong, but I get it. And no, we’re not Mergans. Or Sky-Gods.”

  She had never heard any Master speak so. Ever. These could not be masters and if they were Sky-Gods, then they were strange ones. And girls? Girls are unclaimed Hands and Voices, never just girls. Peering around, the Voice looked for any sign of girls with the metal-men. She saw nothing of the kind.

  A movement caught her eye and she saw one of the kneeling Hands‌—‌an old one known for her good counsel to young Hands‌—‌making signs. She read them, then turned to the crowd of Hands and said, “Everyone stand. Just stand and be still.”

  She was breaking all the rules today. A Voice had just relayed an order from a Hand! Yes, she would be burned if she survived this strange day.

  The jostling around to get behind all the other Hands immediately commenced. No one wanted to be in front. The Voice shook her head and said to her young and trembling Hand. “I will go forward.”

  She took a few steps forward to show that there was nothing to fear, but the metal-men’s strange objects all swiveled toward her. Though there were no spear points or arrows like the Enforcers used, the Voice was sure these were weapons.

  She halted and asked, “How does this Master wish this Voice to speak?”

  Ten

  “Tango, you’re not going to get anywhere like this. They don’t understand. Intel reports are clear. They are an oppressed class, but it’s more than that. They have no individual identity. She can’t just talk normally to you. She doesn’t know how,” the support tech said, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

  “Why does she keep calling me master?” Tango asked.

  “She thinks you’re a man. Men on that planet are masters, as you know. Well, some of them are. There are other slaves called Enforcers that are men, but they’re still labeled as potential hostiles and potential non-hostiles.”

  “Gross. She thinks I’m a man? That’s fucking insulting!”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just tell her already. She can’t see through your suit. I’m relaying your info to Division. Some of the other contact squads are having issues. Everyone just keeps running and hiding. It’s freaking ridiculous.”

  Tango considered the woman in front of her. When those narrow shoulders kept bugging her, Tango had switched to infrared and seen the terrible truth. The woman had no arms and probably hadn’t for a very long time. The narrow chest and shoulders were a clear sign that she’d never built up any muscle from using arms.

  “Is this what they were talking about when they said the women here were mutilated? She can talk, but I don’t think the others can at all. They keep signing to each other.”

  “It is.”

  “God, I hate this planet! No frigging fighting and this kind of messed-up crap.”

  The woman in red was looking more and more nervous, her feet shifting under that giant tent of cloth. Suddenly, an idea popped into Tango’s head and she chinned the exterior channel, “Hold on a second. I’m going to come out.”

  Support broke in immediately with, “Go out? Are you de-suiting
? No! That is not protocol. You may not de-suit on a planetary surface prior to the official end of hostilities.”

  Tango reached for the emergency de-suit button. It required that she maneuver her hand out of the glove, which was hard enough, but also use two fingers. It was meant to be difficult. While she wiggled her hand free, she said, “Support, this is not a normal situation. The hostiles are gone. The women are here. Just let me be. I’ll keep my corona, so I’ll still be in control of the suit.” To the rest of the squad, she added, “Watch my back. Uni, you’re in change if things go sideways.”

  When the release finally engaged, an immediate sensation of free space surrounded Tango. It usually signaled the end of a battle, not the beginning of one, but this time, it seemed like the way to get things moving in the right direction. These women probably had information, but the way they spoke made it clear they weren’t in the habit of offering it. They probably didn’t even understand that they could.

  And if they thought the Peace Force suits were Sky-Gods, then Tango really needed to set the record straight. The last time a planet was rehabilitated‌—‌not a major battle, just a realignment of priorities‌—‌where they thought the Peace Force were gods, things did not go well. They started sacrificing each other all over the place to appease them. It was a nightmare.

  As the suit fluid flowed out the back of her suit, Tango immediately began to cough. The probe unseated and her lungs fought for air. It probably wouldn’t make the best first impression, but what can you do?

  Eleven

  The metal-man ejected a stream of bluish water from his back, making it look as if it had a sudden need to evacuate. If it weren’t so frightening, it might even be funny, though the Voice would never dare to laugh at anything a master did.

  Then the metal-man gave birth and the Voice stumbled backwards into the arms of her Hand. The other Hands also backed up, the gasps and shuffling feet loud. A giant blue infant landed on the ground behind the metal-man.

  The Voice tried to look away, but could not. The infant coughed a terrible cough, blue fluid shooting from its mouth as it heaved on the ground. It was huge, taller than the tallest man the Voice had ever seen. Was this infant inside the metal-man? Was it an infant at all?

  The infant ceased its heaving and breathed in deep breaths, making sounds like words as it did. The metal-man boomed out words shortly after the infant spoke and said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m just coming out of the suit.”

  Suit? Like a master’s suit, the one worn during congregations of the masters when a new master was selected? If so, then this was a very different sort of suit. No silk here. So, this giant infant was inside the metal-man the whole time. The infant stood, the legs as big around as the pillars that held up the ceiling in the great hall of the palace.

  The infant wiped a hand down its face, flinging blue fluid from its hands onto the ground. Then it pulled away the blue covering from its head, exposing a shock of red hair the fell to its shoulders and framed the face. And finally, the infant stood and it was an infant no longer.

  It was a woman. A very big, very beautiful, and smiling woman.

  “You’re a woman!” the Voice cried out, quite unnecessarily. Every Hand had frozen in place, all eyes wide upon the figure in front of them.

  The woman spoke, but her words were gibberish. The metal-man‌—‌no, the metal suit‌—‌behind her spoke her words after a short delay. “Yes, I’m a woman. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to find the ones who have hurt you. We think they’re the ones you call the masters. This world has failed to develop in accordance with Earth/Seed Peace Accords and must be re-organized or re-colonized. The culture present has been deemed toxic to human life, freedom, and the pursuit of happiness to all individuals outside the ruling minority. Complete re-organization has been determined to be the only proper solution.”

  The Voice shook her head, because most of those words were also gibberish.

  The woman spoke again, this time only a few words. The suit said, “We’re here to kill the men and help you rebuild a new culture that isn’t complete shit like this one. Will you please tell us where the men are?”

  The Voice stood stock still, everything else forgotten and the words she’d just heard spinning in her head. It couldn’t be right. She must be ill? Perhaps even dead and dreaming. The giant woman had just said the masters’ rule was feces.

  “What?” she asked at last.

  The giant woman flung more of the blue fluid from her body, exposing even more of the tight suit beneath. She rippled with muscle, more than any enforcer could ever hope to have and they were the strongest of all the Hands. She spoke again, and again the metal suit broadcast her words.

  “Listen, don’t take it personally or anything. We did this on another planet where women only kept three percent of the men alive for breeding. That was a shit planet too. Hardly any of them survived, but you women are totally safe with us. I promise. Will you tell me now?”

  The Voice wished she had arms more than any other time in her life. She wanted to fling them wide and shout to the heavens. There were no Sky-Gods or if there were, they were not like the masters said.

  That same old Hand, the one who helped many young Hands survive their first years of service, shoved her way forward in the group, tapping the Voice’s shoulder with urgent pokes. The Voice turned and nodded for her to go on, trying to watch the giant woman at the same time. She was huge, like nothing the Voice had ever seen before. Even the largest enforcers would be small in comparison.

  The old Hand signed for a long time, turning so that all the Hands would read her words. As she did, a smile lit her face that showed the gaps where her teeth had been lost. The light in her eyes was as bright as a woman’s pyre at sunset.

  When she was done signing, the Voice asked the crowd of Hands, “Do you all agree? Is this the bargain you wish me to strike?”

  They slapped their hands against their thighs, the sign of agreement in the Hand quarters.

  The Voice turned to the giant and said, “I know where the masters of this palace are. They are three hundred and fifty in number. With them are the Enforcers, whose number I do not know. Also with them are the Select Breeders, who are blameless. These Hands present here are but a small number of those Hands within the palace who are also blameless. I will show you where the masters are, if you agree not to kill them.”

  The giant woman looked confused for a moment, then touched the wide golden band around her head as if listening to it. Then she shook her head and spoke for a long time, but the metal suit did not convey her words.

  Finally, she turned back and spoke to the crowd of women, her eyes not without pity, and the metal suit said, “I’m sorry, but these operations are what they are. There will be help for you, assistance for as long as you live to help you understand and form a better world. But as for the men? No, they are hostiles. We cannot allow them to live. That’s been tried before. The same culture or something even worse always develops. The only solution for a bad culture is complete elimination.”

  The Voice nodded, realizing that this giant woman did not truly understand her meaning. She would have to use better words. “You misunderstand, sky-woman. We would like to serve this one final duty to the masters. We women have always been useful, even in death. We would like the masters to have the opportunity to experience that same kind of final usefulness.” Here the Voice paused, smiling a little at the old Hand who remained at her side, then she said, “Exactly the same final usefulness as we provide. A cleansing fire and feeding the crops with their ashes. With your help, of course. This is the wish of the Hands assembled here.”

  Then the Voice bowed her head and waited for an answer. When the answer came, she smiled and vowed that she would bow no more.

  Twelve

  Tango and Delta got a drink from the portable cantina and found a spot where they could swat at mosquitoes in peace for a few minutes. Nearby, a few Administrators were huddled with some Engineer
s as they argued the merits of particular type of dam. The engineers would win this one, Tango was sure of that.

  “Dude, this sucks!” Delta said with a sigh as she dropped down onto a newly fabricated bench next to Tango.

  “Yes, yes it does,” she agreed, sipping her drink. It was ridiculously hot near the equator when compared the ship, but the women of this world didn’t even seem to notice it. While Tango poured sweat and pounded electrolytes, their foreheads barely glistened.

  Delta took a long drink and then belched loudly, earning a giggle from some nearby women. The giggles sounded strange, which was okay. The Administrators‌—‌which included the Medical Corps as well as a host of other sub-specialties‌—‌had decided the best solution for this world of mutes was the easiest one: the same voice transmitters that the suits utilized.

  It had taken them many months, but most of the women could communicate well enough. Not all of them, but most. It was a start. The ones who were not mute, but who had no arms? Well, again the suits provided the answer and new, smaller metal arms were now displayed with pride.

  Twining her hand in Tango’s, Delta leaned close and said, “When do we leave? I’m tired of being a pack mule. And I only got to shoot once. I’m ready for a new battle.”

  “Soon enough. This planet isn’t ideal, but it’s theirs. The asteroids will continue to come, but one of the ships is making good progress in clearing up the bigger pieces out there. The briefing this morning was good. Only a few million more big rocks to blast into smaller, not so dangerous, rocks. It will take a while. You know how much they hate wasting resources, so it’s either this or sleeping. Just be glad we’re not sleeping through it. We get some time together before the next long nap. That’s good, right?”

  Delta rubbed her cheek against Tango’s shoulder and said, “That’s true. I don’t mind aging a year for that.” Her dreamy smile spoke to the many warm nights made much warmer by the activity in their shared shelter at night.