The Loneliness of Stars

by Z. M. Wilmot

  ~Jakken Servidos, in a speech to the Terran Home Rule Council

  I returned to the place beneath the trees. It was bright, and I could see the roots in vivid detail. They were the same grey as the trees they belonged to, but in the grooves and cracks along there length there was a blood red color. I walked through them purposefully, pushing them away as they made half-hearted attempts to grab me. Gradually, the roots began to thin, and I saw a vast blackness in front of me.

  Without warning, the ground gave way, and I fell. As I did so, lights began to appear below me, until I found that I was falling towards a field of stars. They called to me, welcoming me. I closed my eyes and laughed, leaving all of my grief behind me, flinging my arms open, waiting for them to receive me.

  Something slammed into my stomach. I opened my eyes and looked down, out of breath. The green-cloaked man stood there, his fist in my stomach. “I told you not to return here, Jakken. Now go, and stay on the ship!” He lowered his arm and pushed me very hard, and I was flung back. I felt the stars clamor in outrage below me, and I heard the figure say something to them. Straining my ears, I managed to make out what he said. “The boy is not yours, Psy, so leave him be! He belongs to the Shivvos. Do not interfere again!”I was indignant. I didn’t belong to anybody! I shouted back down that it was so, but was only halfway through my speech before I was forced back into reality.

  I awoke and looked over at the chronometer. I yelped and leapt out of bed, hurriedly dressing and running out the door. I was half an hour overdue for breakfast. Halfway to the galley, I remembered that there were still meals in the freezer for another few days. I stopped walking, then remembered that Joseph wasn’t even there to scold me. I had turned around, a glum mood overtaking me, when I heard Vincent’s voice come on over the intercom.

  “All members of the crew, please report to the burial site of Allon Lazu and Allen Rasjane immediately.” I sighed. I didn’t want to see another execution – there had been so much death in my life recently. I considered hiding in my room, but decided that it was my duty to attend. I grudgingly walked to the main cargo bay, then out the door to the burial site.

  Once everyone was there, I began to regret my decision to attend. There were a relatively large number of people missing. Just as I considered walking back to the ship, Vincent approached, carrying Nemhet over his shoulder. Michaela followed with a length of rope. They halted in front of a tree. Vincent nodded to Michaela, and she threw the rope over a low branch. I then got a better view of the other end of the rope. It was tied in a noose – Nemhet was to be hanged. Seeing his fate before him, Nemhet began to laugh, with his hands tied behind his back and his feet shackled together. He continued laughing even as the noose was placed around his neck. Michaela held the other end of the rope.

  Vincent solemnly turned to Nemhet. “Any last requests?” I noticed that he had not given this last respect to Allon.

  Nemhet stopped laughing and looked at Vincent with a straight face. “I want the priest to bless me before I die.”

  Vincent nodded. “Fair enough.” He turned to the crew. “Lazarus, come forward!”

  The priest did not step forward. The crew began to murmur among themselves. I wondered if Lazarus had skipped out on Nemhet’s execution. He and Joseph had been great friends – perhaps he was still grieving.

  Vincent gestured to Jeen. “Jeen, find Lazarus and bring him here.” Jeen nodded and jogged back to the ship.

  Everyone waited in silence for him to return. After several long minutes, he jogged back – alone. He went straight to Vincent and whispered in his ear. The color drained from his face. He nodded, and Jeen walked slowly back into the ranks of the crew, who all gave him questioning looks.

  Vincent cleared his throat and turned to Nemhet. “Lazarus is… unavailable. Do you have another request?”

  Nemhet spat in Vincent’s face. “I don’t need anything from you. Just kill me now.”

  Vincent calmly wiped the spit from his face and nodded to Michaela. She took a breath and pulled on the rope. She walked backwards, pulling Nemhet higher in the air. He did not struggle or flail at all. It was the most unnerving thing I have ever witnessed. There was defiance in his eyes up until the moment they clouded over and his last breath left him. After several minutes, Michaela let go of the rope, and his body crumpled to the ground.

  The crew began to talk quietly amongst themselves. Vincent raised a hand to silence them, and picked up a shovel lying on the ground. He silently dug a hole, pushed Nemhet’s body into it and then filled it in again. When he was done, he put down the shovel said Nemhet’s last words. I didn’t pay attention to them, as my mind was elsewhere. More specifically, I was wondering why Lazarus was unavailable. The question was on the minds of a lot of the crew as well, apparently, for they all clustered around Jeen as soon as the service was done, asking him what had happened. He shook his head and would not speak.

  Vincent cleared his throat. Everyone went silent and looked at him. “There has been another death on board the ship.” If the silence could have become any more silent, it would have. “Lazarus… has killed himself. He impaled himself on his golden cross. Apparently, the bottom end was much sharper than we had imagined.” Everyone looked to Jeen, asking silently for confirmation. He only nodded.

  “We will perform rites for him later this evening, before dinner.” We all began to walk slowly back to the ship. I went to the galley, where I cleaned the dishes of the six crewmembers who came in to eat. After a while, I returned to my room and stared at my pillow, not thinking anything.

  I don’t remember falling asleep, but I do remember being awoken by Vincent calling us all for Lazarus’ funeral over the intercom. Groggily, I walked out the door and to the burial site. The mounds of both Allon and Allen and Nemhet were there. A new hole had been dug in between them, Lazarus’ body already inside. Vincent said some kind words over the grave, then filled it in. For the second time that day, we all walked solemnly back to the ship.

  I was a zombie for the rest of the day. I cleaned the dishes slowly, and was almost late for the change of shift. Mikhail looked scarcely better than I felt, and we said nothing to each other. Jeen looked even worse than I felt, and I pitied him, but only for a moment; I was far too wrapped up in my own misery to pay attention to that of others for very long.

  I returned to my room immediately after my shift, and collapsed into a deep sleep without even changing out of my clothes.

  When I awoke the next morning, I was surprisingly alert. I had not been troubled by any strange dreams about stars or cloaked figures shoving me away from fields of said stars, and I forced myself to not think about the recent deaths. Still, even though I didn’t see anyone as I went to go lay out breakfast, it felt like an aura of despair had settled over the entire ship – quite different from the excitement that had permeated the atmosphere when we had first landed.

  I laid out breakfast for everyone, then wandered towards the main cargo bay. I passed a viewport on the way, and glanced out of it without thinking. A moment later, I doubled back and stared outside. There was another green storm. I wondered for a moment if perhaps this was the planet’s substitute for night. Deciding that if I couldn’t go outside there was no point in going to the cargo hold, I let my feet lead me wherever they chose.

  They led me straight to Lazarus’ room. I tried the door, and it slowly swung open. I hesitated a moment, then walked inside. The room was very clean, with very few personal effects.

  In the far corner was a miniature confessional booth. A small cot was opposite it, with a thin comforter and a single, small pillow on its surface. At the foot of the cot was a small altar, with a statue of the Virgin Mary atop it. Lying in front of the altar was a golden cross. The longer end of it was shaved into a point. The bottom half was covered in blood. I stared at it for several seconds, then looked away. I walked out of the room, closing the door behind me.

  Vincent’s voice came over the intercom a few minutes later, as I
was wandering towards the bridge. “All members of the crew are to report to the main cargo bay immediately.” As an afterthought, he added, “please.” I smiled momentarily at that, turned around, and walked to the cargo bay. I was one of the first there, like I always seemed to be. Only about two thirds of the crew showed up. Vincent chose to ignore this as he walked in, dragging Rafael behind him. He approached a small door to the right of the large loading door, and put the tied up Rafael on the floor beside it.

  He turned to face the crew. “Seeing as we cannot execute Rafael outside of the ship today, we will give him a chance to live.” His announcement was met with silence. “In a way.” He opened the door, and everyone took a step back as the howling wind assaulted our ears. Some of the green clouds drifted inside the ship.

  Vincent stood Rafael up. “Rafael, you shall be cast into the storm, for whatever god you so choose to judge you.” He drew a knife and cut the bindings on Rafael’s hands and feet.

  Rafael glared at Vincent. “Very well… captain.” He spat at the ground at Vincent’s feet, turned, and walked out the door. As soon as his left foot entered the storm, he was yanked outside by a powerful force, and he vanished into the clouds.

  Vincent closed the door again. It looked like it took him quite a bit of effort to do so. After locking it, he turned to face us. “And that is what happens to mutineers. However, if Rafael survives, he will be welcome to rejoin into the crew of this vessel, as the gods will have deemed him worthy to live.”

  He took a breath. “Now, even though not all of you are here, I have an announcement to make. We are not going to sit here on this ship, watching our food supplies slowly dwindle down to nothing, then die slowly of starvation. Nor are we going to follow in the footsteps of Lazarus and Joseph, killing ourselves rather than face the life that fate has chosen for us. No, we are going to try to survive. Starting tomorrow, you will all be organized into groups, and every day each group will go out to accomplish its assigned missions. We will map out the surrounding area. We will use the scientist’s tools as best we can to see what there is that can be eaten. We will search for other life forms, be they intelligent or not. We will build shelters in case our ship falters. We will learn more about this planet, and we will survive until help arrives!”

  Ragged cheers greeted this short speech, but I was skeptical. Why would our ship falter? And how would help arrive if the transmitter was broken?

  Then I remembered. Rafael had a second transmitter. Had Vincent taken it when he took Rafael prisoner? As the crowd began to depart, I left hurriedly. I ran to Rafael’s room and flung open the door. I scanned it wildly, looking for a transmitter. I wasn’t sure why I was so eager to get my hands on the device, but I felt that something was wrong. I turned the room inside out, but I found nothing. I tried to calm myself down, reasoning that Vincent probably had taken it, which is why he had said help would arrive. But then why not tell the crew about the existence of the transmitter itself?

  I decided to go directly to Vincent. I walked quickly through the corridors to his chambers, and knocked on his door. There was no response – he probably hadn’t returned yet from the cargo hold. I waited for him to come back. When he did not after almost half an hour, I guessed that he was probably on the bridge, and started to walk in that direction. He intercepted me after I had only taken ten or so steps.

  “Vincent! I have something to ask you!” I told him.

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “And what is it?”

  “Do you have Rafael’s transmitter?”

  He stared at me blankly. “What?”

  I swallowed. “Rafael had a second transmitter, that Mather gave to him. He was planning on using it after he got rid of you.”

  Vincent looked at me suspiciously. “How do you know this?”

  “I overheard it when I found out about the mutiny. I… just forgot to mention it, I guess. Rafael said that Mather had given him the second transmitter in case Korzos did anything to sabotage the mission.”

  Vincent nodded. “It makes sense… but no, I don’t have it. Maybe it’s still in his room. If Rafael was telling the truth.”

  I shook my head. “I checked his room right after you… let him out. There was nothing in there.”

  “Well then, I guess he was lying. No need to worry about anything.”

  Or maybe someone took it. From the look on Vincent’s face, this possibility had crossed his mind as well, so there was no point in bringing it up. “Thank you, Jak. I will look into this.” I nodded, then turned and left.

  23

  “Well, I certainly hope that any alien race we come across will be friendly – it would make life much easier for us, and probably for them as well. It would be beneficial to the both of us, I think, to develop a long-standing relationship with any extra-terrestrials that we may come across.”