Flower-of-Sands_The Extraordinary Adventures of a Female Astronaut

by Grahame R. Smith

  Danton took her arm and led her gently away from the panes of shifting light into the open air. She asked to be left alone and walked the beach in the evening half-light. The two moons had vanished and a new moon hung low and large. It was all illusion – like this world, like her life.

  Chapter 6

  It was the largest tree in the galaxy, according to common wisdom. Although its actual height varied from season to season, the general estimate was 35, 247 metres. It formed the central part of the Tangled Forest, a gigantic, interweaving structure of trees stretching across hundreds of kilometres.

  Nearly one thousand years ago, refugees from the Home Galaxy (Milky Way) had arrived on this gracious planet which they named Liberty Primary. In the process of planetary exploration, the new inhabitants discovered this monolithic, intricate formation in the southern hemisphere and named it the Tangled Forest.

  Reaching into the upper atmosphere, the Tangled Forest had been bio-engineered by a race that had long disappeared, leaving only the Tangled Forest as evidence of its presence. Probably, it was not indigenous, but a visiting race that had decided to move on.

  But what a legacy. The Tangled Forest was a hospitable environment, its vast, multiple branches sprouting leaves that measured up to fifteen metres long and seven metres across, from which flowers burst sporadically in kaleidoscopic radiance. Sap gushed through rivulets, creating spontaneous pools and waterfalls. People fashioned villages, restaurants, and recreational facilities on these branches. Biological research facilities, and industries dedicated to wellbeing and entertainment flourished here. Fungi, floating spores, and golden pollinating insects contributed to an oxygen rich atmosphere that was life sustaining and invigorating.

  Remus sat on his favourite branch high up on the tallest structure. He had just bathed in a cradle of dew and was drying naturally in the warm air that circulated through the forest. The branch he sat on, which stretched out across the sea and hovered over clouds and formations of migrating birds, was relatively small, more intimate, more personal; he regarded it as his private domain. Baby branches sprouted through ridges and crevices, heralding a spontaneous spurt of growth – part of the forest’s complex ecology. Sap from the baby sprouts was famous for its hallucinogenic properties, and such areas were often the meeting place of youngsters in party mood. He had grown out of experimenting with the sap, which in moderate to large doses caused powerful visions and out-of-body experiences. Sometimes he would touch a small amount to his tongue, as in minute doses it induced acuity and assisted his work.

  A tiny light, a synthetic firefly, glowed in the air to his left on the level of his eyes. He had set his implant’s network to privacy, allowing him to veto any holo calls. It was probably that girl Melange-Lo had spoken to him about, the one who wanted the intergalactic drive. What a pain, he thought. Absentmindedly, he had agreed to see her, something he now regretted. Sighing, he adjusted his implant to allow the girl to penetrate his communications security system. She appeared in holo, hovering at the edge of the branch.

  ‘Hi Remus, my name is Flower-of-Sands. Mélange-Lo might have mentioned me to you. Do you have time? Am I intruding?’

  Remus pulled a towel towards his naked body. ‘No, not really,’ he lied. ‘It is my private time of course, but I can make allowances.’ He slipped into a simple grey-blue coverall.

  Flower-of-Sands was hesitant. ‘Oh, I see, if I am intruding, maybe I should call later.’

  Remus decided it was best to get her over with. ‘That’s okay. Really. How can I help you?’

  ‘Can I visit you in person, rather than converse in holo?’

  Dismay, which he adjusted to a look of resignation, flitted across his features. ‘You can teleport here. Be careful, though, I’m near the edge.’ If he hoped to dissuade her he was to be disappointed.

  ‘That’s okay.’

  Her arrival was not instantaneous. After the equivalent of five minutes, he was still waiting and wondering what had happened to her.

  Her voice rang out across the branch. He spun around.

  Wearing a yellow-green dress, her hair a little untidy, her eyes alert and hopeful, she was coming from a different direction from the one he has assumed she would come from. Already, she had wrong footed him.

  ‘Sorry,’ she laughed, slightly embarrassed. ‘I came via the official jump-station. I was scared I might miss you and fall into the abyss.’

  ‘Good thinking. Would you like to sit here, or go to a café? There are plenty all over the forest.’

  ‘I like it here, actually, Remus, if that is okay with you.’

  He felt obliged to nod as she slowly sat down, crossing her legs, her arms resting casually on her knees. She looked out into the open sky and down at clouds and mountain peaks, and then at him.

  He was about her age, maybe a bit older. Fair hair cut short with dark, almost black eyes. His face was well proportioned, handsome, and his expression intelligent and enquiring. He was athletic in build, yet his generally demeanour was that of a scholar or scientist.

  She came to the point. ‘Melange-Lo tells me that you have knowledge of the Shiloramedel intergalactic drives, that you may be able to help assemble a ship that could attain the necessary speed to traverse the space between here and the Great Wheel.’

  ‘Mm, well maybe, perhaps. However, I am currently engaged in other research.’ He shook his head and chuckled helplessly. ‘I am so terribly busy.’

  Flower-of-Sands felt lurking disappointment. ‘Oh, I see, I didn’t realize that. What are you working on, if that is not too rude a question? Is it something I would understand?’

  ‘Maybe … maybe. I don’t know. Do you understand physics?’ His tone was dismissive, as if he had prejudged her and found her wanting in the type of intelligence that would enable her to understand his work.

  She said nothing and looked vaguely away as if the question had somehow floated into the sky.

  ‘It’s concerning the Field,’ he said eventually, his tone indicating that he did not expect her to be interested.

  To his surprise and disappointment, her face lit up; she was either unaware of his attitude to her or was ignoring it. ‘I have experience of the Field, at least a version of it. Back on Earth, the adventures I took part in often involved the Field – usually indirectly, but I witnessed astonishing events. There was this child, who was really an avatar …’

  ‘I am researching the inner layers of the Field.’ He had obviously not been listening to her. ‘The occult aspects of the Field, the gradations of meaning are numerous and mathematically perfect, audacious and elevating in their majesty.’

  He hoped this outburst of pseudo-poetic eloquence would frighten her away, but it did not; she remained attentive, waiting.

  Despairing, he continued. ‘I’m not sure if I can return to intergalactic drives. Going from one special place to another is unsettling.’

  He became quiet, his eyes looking towards her, but not seeing her. Instead, he seemed to be searching, perhaps running equations and mathematical paradoxes through his implant network. She was not important to him; she felt irrelevant and unwelcome.

  ‘Remus, you probably know my story.’ Remus reluctantly indicated that he did. ‘You know that the star ship which brought me here from the Home Galaxy possessed a Shiloramedel intergalactic drive-ensemble. Something went wrong – exactly what, no one knows – but I was in hibernation for over eight hundred years. Do you know what happened to the drives?’

  Remus shook his head as if such an issue was beneath him. ‘I don’t know. The drive-ensemble was gutted, I presume.’

  ‘I don’t understand; Melange-Lo told me that you would know.’

  ‘I don’t know why he should make such an assumption.’

  She stood up and looked about her, stretching her sides that had grown stiff with tension. ‘I’m sorry if I disturbed you, Remus, and that you are not interested. I have no intention of obstructing your work or impinging on your privacy.’

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nbsp; ‘Well, that is good to know. I am terribly busy.’ He looked about helplessly, as if he was under duress from an outside source. ‘You seem like a nice person. You could always try my brother, Edge. Perhaps he can help.’

  ‘You have a brother?’

  ‘I have indeed. Fate has decreed me such an experience.’ He spoke with deep irony.

  ‘Does he have knowledge of the Shiloramedel intergalactic drive?’

  ‘He has knowledge of everything?’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Indeed, he does. At least, so he tells me.’

  ‘Where can I find him?’ She was feeling increasingly pessimistic and fighting off tears of disappointment.

  Pleased to see that she was going and seeing his solitude stretching in glory before him, he looked her squarely in the face and spoke with enthusiasm tempered by relief. ‘I have absolutely no idea.’

  Chapter 7

  ‘Edge? Brother of Remus? You are joking, surely?’

  Flower-of-Sands’ friend Joy was leaning back, her eyes wide with astonishment.

  ‘Well, actually, I’m not. I’m terribly disappointed. Remus will not help in any way. He says his brother might be able to help me, although I’m not sure if he means it. Where can I find this so-called brother?’

  ‘Have you not heard?’ Joy looked at Flower-of-Sands with a combination of pity, amusement, and disbelief.

  ‘No, not really. Don’t forget, I have been busy adjusting to being here in what to me is the future. Do you know him? Do you know where I can find him? Remus was not at all clear.’

  ‘Surprise, surprise. You can try every nightclub anywhere on the planet, or if it is daytime, any organization for desperate and dangerous sports, and if that fails, any hang-out bar – anywhere in the system. Remus must have been having you on. Honestly Sands!’

  Flower-of-Sands fought back tears. ‘Remus didn’t seem the type to have people on. He seemed deadly serious in all matters, and totally lacking in humour, although he was heavily sarcastic when speaking of his brother, whom he says knows everything.’

  Joy chuckled in a manner that Flower-of-Sands found far from reassuring. ‘Edge is the biggest playboy on the planet, possibly in the system. He is bad, mad, and wayward, in any order. Remus is palming you off in a very nasty way. Stay clear Sands, for Mother’s sake. Why can’t the authorities so called find someone for you?’

  ‘They don’t seem interested. They passed on the message from Earth, feel that it is a job for me, and left me to get on with it.’

  ‘Can’t someone from the Space Corps help?’

  ‘Apparently not. I suppose, I hope, they will help with the launching and all that side of things and my training – if I ever get that far. But they don’t seem interested in deep intergalactic travel. Unmanned in-system and interstellar travel is highly developed, but intergalactic travel and the Shiloramedel intergalactic super drives seems to be off limits.’

  ‘You poor dear. Why not forget the whole thing? Just enjoy your new life.’

  ‘That’s the problem. I can’t. I want adventure and serious travel, and this gives me an opportunity to have it at the expense of this planet’s authorities – provided I sort the appropriate technology. But the authorities so called are leaving it all to me. Maybe it’s some sort of test.’

  ‘They are not interested in tests, you poor dear.’

  ‘Don’t keep saying, poor dear, Joy. It makes me feel such a fool.’

  They were sitting in the canteen of the Centre for Space Research and Teleport Technology. After her unfortunate meeting with Remus, Flower-of-Sands had headed for the Centre where Joy, the closest thing to a best friend she had in this future world, worked as an astral-bio researcher. Not in the mood for solitude, she needed the company of a friend. Even although she had arrived over eight hundred years into the future – courtesy of prolonged deep space hibernation – she was nevertheless a moderately gregarious person and needed other people.

  Arriving at the Centre, she had passed through the restaurant area and to her relief had found Joy enjoying a late lunch with some colleagues. Joy saw her, looked delighted, and waved her over.

  After standing for a few seconds under a food-ordering auto-brocade which read her food and drink desires through her implant-network, she joined Joy and her friends. As she arrived at the table, a synthetic waiter arrived with her food, which was a selection of small lumps of delicious protein substances in sweet sauce and an assortment of vegetables. Her drink was a multiple fruit mix with herbs. Food and drink had changed in eight hundred years; when eating out she mostly guessed and hoped for the best.

  After chatting politely, Joy’s colleagues left to continue their activities, leaving Flower-of-Sands alone with her friend – free to talk openly about her encounter with Remus.

  Now, as she looked across at Joy’s sceptical expression, she realized the chances of her getting a ship with a Shiloramedel super drive were somewhere between low and non-existent. Moreover, the only lead she had was apparently bogus, an absurdity, something to avoid at all costs.

  Deciding to take Joy’s advice and not attempt to contact Edge, and after chatting with her for a while, she finished her meal, said goodbye, and left for her cabin and the solitude of her prairie.

  Except that she did not go straight home, but wandered the flower-lit avenues of Liberty City. Running into a group of people she vaguely knew, she joined them for a swim in a floating pool that drifted higher than the clouds, after which she had a few drinks in the recreation sanctuary that ringed the city in a golden arch that defied the laws of perspective. The Field seemed to be everywhere, in the marble pavements and silver fountains that shifted subtly as one walked over and around them, in the water pools, buildings that grew out of nowhere, gardens rich in multifarious labyrinths of colour.

  She arrived back at her cabin as dusk was spilling red gold across the sky. She made a light snack, changed into a flowing dress that she enjoyed wearing, went outside to her rocking chair, and sat looking across her prairie at a herd of animals silently munching herbs and settling down for the night. She was tired, disappointed, and bewildered. Would she ever get that super drive?

  ‘I hear you have been looking for me.’

  She dropped her plate and leaped off her seat. Her Earth experiences had made her liable to see danger where none existed. Here, on this planet, danger did not exist, but her unconscious body reflexes felt otherwise.

  ‘I’m sorry if I startled you. My name is Edge.’ He was backlit against the evening sky and came towards her with an easy gait as if they were old friends. His smile grew in the dim air. Dark hair flowed naturally down to his shoulders. He was wearing a dark red sleeveless top and casual trousers and sandals. Although healthy, he had not idealized his physique like many young people, and seemed to carry himself lightly, with mockery, as if the world, life itself, were not an altogether serious matter.

  She hardly knew how to respond. ‘Well, you did. I was lost in thought.’ She felt breathless.

  ‘You are unaccustomed to a world without danger.’ He drew closer and slowly lowered himself onto the soft moss that surrounded Flower-of-Sands’ abode.

  She sat slowly, gazing at him with curiosity and expectation.

  ‘Originally, I come from here,’ she whispered, ‘but that was over eight hundred years ago. We were essentially a peaceful culture, but we were refugees from the Rann wars, so we knew of violence. Then I went to Earth. There war and crime were rife. So yes, you are right. I am unaccustomed to a completely safe world.’

  ‘And bored with it?’

  He certainly came to the point. ‘Maybe, perhaps. Who told you that I was looking for you?’

  ‘Word gets around on this planet. Why were you looking for me? What can I do to be of service?’

  She shifted uneasily. ‘Actually, I’m not sure if I need you – now. It was just a thought, really.’

  He was silent for a few moments. Then he laughed. ‘I get it. Someone warned you off. I�
��m a disgrace, they say, a playboy, irresponsible, danger loving, an aberration in this society, risky – morally, that is. All true. Well, are you not an aberration – in this society, that is. Excuse me if I am being forward.’

  ‘I’m certainly not a playgirl, and you are being forward.’ She laughed; something in his attitude captivated her, made her at ease. ‘But it’s okay. I must admit that I have had my moments – the playgirl thing that is, but you are right; I do not fit in here. I don’t want to cause trouble, though. I just want to explore. To use an Earth expression (here she spoke in English), I want to boldly go where no one has gone before.’

  ‘I’m impressed. Really, I am.’ He laughed. ‘I’ve studied Earth – a bit.’ Here he paused. ‘It was my brother who told me about you. Said maybe I could help you. And I can, if you let me, if you can trust me.’

  ‘I don’t think I can.’ She eyed him with amusement, feeling the pressure of this strange new world lifting from her. ‘But then, that’s okay, and in another way, I think I can.’ She smiled and looked down at her dress, which in the increasing dusk had become like a soft glowing waterfall. Her implant-network connected to her cabin’s general life-support and the lights came on dimly. ‘Depends, of course, on what you mean by trust. Would you like a drink?’

  She went into her cabin and came out with two long glasses filled with sparkling blue fluid and a plate of dried fruit, which she placed between them. Edge produced a pipe filled with mildly intoxicating herbs. He inhaled lightly, his eyes sparkling. Everything about him was light, as light as air, as light as the misty smoke from the pipe drifting into the surrounding dark. Animal noises came out of the night. He passed the pipe to her and they talked into the night.

  She needed a man, but promised herself that she was not going to make it easy for him. Edge was attractive, not as handsome as his brother was, but striking, appealing, and like her, an outsider, a misfit in this strange utopian society.