Star Wanderers: The Jeremiah Chronicles (Omnibus I-IV)

by Joe Vasicek

  But you should be, he thought to himself. I’ve gone and made a mess of everything. When he thought of what he’d said to Mariya back on the Hope of Oriana, he wished he could melt through the floor.

  “And Mariya,” he said, his heart pounding. “I—”

  “Yes?”

  He bit his lip and glanced at Noemi. With one hand under her belly, she put the other on Mariya’s shoulder and leaned against her for support. It was almost as if she needed Mariya more than she needed him. With the pregnancy coming to term in just a few short months, perhaps that was true.

  “What is it, Jeremiah?”

  “I … I shouldn’t have said what I did back there.”

  Mariya’s eyes lit up, though her body still remained tense. “And the marriage?” she asked nervously. “What about that?”

  Jeremiah took a deep breath and swallowed. “I’ll consider it,” he lied—then, more truthfully, “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll do my best to help Noemi,” she said. “It’ll be good for everyone—honest. Besides, we’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we? And at Zarmina, we’ll go through even more.”

  “But Mariya,” he asked softly, “what if my answer is no?”

  Mariya stared at him for a moment as if dumbfounded. Noemi looked from him to her and back again, her forehead creasing in a frown. He wondered how she would react if she knew what they were talking about right now. A sinking feeling told him that she would accept it with the same quiet resignation that she seemed to accept everything, no matter how much it hurt her.

  “Why would you say that?” Mariya asked.

  Jeremiah’s chest constricted, and he felt as if he were suffocating. Did he really have to spell everything out for her? No—that would only get them into an argument and make things worse. She only wanted to hear one thing: yes.

  But that was the one thing he absolutely could not tell her.

  An idea came to him, one that sent chills down his arms and made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. At first, his heart skipped a beat as he realized he’d found a solution—but then, as the implications began to sink in, his stomach fell and his knees went weak.

  “Here’s an idea,” he said aloud. “What if I left by myself on the Ariadne and met up with you again at Zarmina?”

  Mariya frowned. “Why would you want to do that?”

  To stop you from forcing me into a second marriage that neither I nor Noemi wants. To give you time to cool off and change your mind. To keep the pressure from building until it devastates all three of us.

  “Captain Elijah asked me to spread the word about the new colony at Zarmina. The more people know we’re out there, the more traders will come through with goods that we’ll need.”

  “I suppose,” said Mariya. “But what about Noemi?”

  Jeremiah swallowed. “It’ll be a sacrifice, but in the long run, I think it will make us all better off. Besides, I’ll be back—it’s only for a few months.”

  It’s not like I’m abandoning her.

  Mariya nodded, though she still seemed a bit confused. She translated for Noemi, whose eyes widened almost immediately.

  “Jerem-ahra go?” she said, cutting Mariya off. “No go—stay.”

  “I’m sorry, Noemi, but this is something I must do.”

  Tears came to her eyes, and she bit her lip and shook her head. “No want you go. You go no see long time—baby no see.”

  “I’ll come back in time for the baby,” he said. “And you’ll be in good hands while I’m gone. Right?”

  “Right,” said Mariya, smiling. “Everything will be fine—don’t worry.”

  Noemi buried her head in her hands and quietly began to sob. The sight stabbed Jeremiah in the heart and made him wish there was a better way. But short of conceding to a marriage he didn’t want, there didn’t seem to be one.

  “Can we have some time alone together?” he asked Mariya.

  “Of course,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’ll go tell my father.”

  He nodded and saw her out. As the airlock door hissed shut behind her, he stepped back into the cabin and put an arm around Noemi.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Everything will be okay—here, let me show you.”

  He pulled down the dream monitor from its compartment in the ceiling. She made no resistance as he helped her into the chair and fitted the dream monitor over her head. Her body tensed for a moment as the neural jacks slid into the socket in the back of her neck, then went limp.

  What have I done? he wondered as he prepared to join her. He felt dizzy and lightheaded, as if waking up from a bad dream. Before the doubts seized hold of him, he fit the helmet-like monitor over his head and plugged in.

  * * * * *

  The hills and meadows were gone, replaced by a boundless expanse of flat, dry earth. A yellow-white sun beat down from the cloudless sky, sucking the ground dry of moisture. The horizon stretched out in every direction, and not a sign of life could be seen anywhere. Off in the distance, a solitary dust devil stood like a ghostly pillar, the only break in the monotonous wasteland.

  “Noemi?” Jeremiah shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Noemi, are you there?”

  He found her a short distance away, lying flat on the sun-baked ground. Her hair spilled out like water, but her cheeks were cracked where her tears had dried.

  “Noemi,” he said, sitting down on the dusty earth next to her. “Noemi, I’m sorry.”

  “Why?” she asked, her eyes the only spot of green in the simulation. “Why you need go?”

  “I only want what’s best for us,” he explained. “If I stay, Mariya’s family will make our lives miserable until I agree to marry her. That’s why I have to leave.”

  “Mariya no wife?”

  “No,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulder. “I will not take a second wife. Only you.”

  “Why no Mariya wife?” she asked.

  “Because I don’t want, and because you don’t want. Ki?”

  “Ki,” she said, shrugging. “But—”

  “If you don’t want it, I don’t want you to make that kind of sacrifice. It isn’t right—it will not make our family strong.”

  She looked at him with glistening eyes. “But no want you leave too.”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s only for a little while. See?”

  He took her hand and pointed to the horizon. By focusing all his energy, he imagined a beautiful oasis, with large, leafy trees and clear blue water, shade from the merciless sun, and a deliciously cool breeze. He reached out with his hand as if to grasp it, and Noemi sat up next to him, straining to see.

  Gradually, the oasis took shape and came into focus. In the vast desert that echoed their sense of loss, it was like a beacon of hope, a symbol of all the things they had to look forward to. Noemi patted her belly and took hold of the image, turning it into a world of lush green forests and meandering rivers set beneath magnificent snow capped mountains.

  “Home?” she asked.

  “Yes,” said Jeremiah, pulling her close. “And we’ll be together again—just the two of us.”

  A warm breeze blew across his skin, and the image vanished like a shimmering mirage. The sun now hung low on the horizon, turning the sky into rich shades of orange and purple. All around them, the desert seemed to sigh as the heat of the day gave way to the coolness of night. A few stars began to glimmer in the sky, but the land all around them was empty—as empty as the starry void.

  “Don’t be sad,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. “It’s not forever—just a few short months.”

  “But Jerem-ahra be alone again.”

  A lump rose in his throat, but he choked it down as best he could. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Yes worry,” she said. “I love you.”

  “And I love you too.” That was why it was so hard.

  She looked up and pointed to the sky. “Remember, home. You and
me, family strong, yes?”

  “Yes,” he said. A strong family shines brighter than all the stars.

  “Remember, I love you. Come home see me together, ki?”

  “Ki.”

  She smiled and ran her fingers along his cheek. “Goodbye,” she whispered.

  “Yes,” he said, his body trembling. “Goodbye.”

  * * * * *

  The Hope of Oriana was little more than a speck of light against the murky backdrop of space, just a few degrees above the purplish-blue line of B’tum’s horizon. Jeremiah watched the colony ship approach the jump point with the strangest mix of emotions that he’d ever felt in his life. For the first time in months, he was alone again, a fact which cut his heart like a laser.

  “Attention port authority, this is the Hope again,” came Captain Elijah’s voice over the radio. “We’re coming up on jump point alpha within moments. May I just say it’s been a pleasure doing business here.”

  “The pleasure is ours,” came the voice of the traffic dispatcher. “Best of luck in the new world.”

  Jeremiah tried to imagine Elijah and his senior officers, seated around the bridge as they prepared to make the jump. Instead, all he could think about was Noemi, down in the fishbowl windows of the observation deck, watching the station drift away with one hand on the glass.

  Don’t go! a part of him wanted to scream. But there was nothing he could do now—his decision had been made.

  As he watched, the speck that was the Hope of Oriana flickered briefly, rippling like a hologram. There was a brief flash of light, no brighter than a small meteor, and then the speck was gone.

  He drew in a sharp breath and switched off the transceiver radio. It was done—there was no going back.

  He was alone.

  Down below, the landscape of B’tum stretched out like a new Earth waiting to be born. Rivers ran like cracks in an eggshell while hints of green around the edges of the largest craters bore testament to the budding new Eden. A not insignificant part of him yearned to stay. But he knew that without Noemi, he would never be happy.

  “To Zarmina, then,” he said aloud, reverting to his old habit of talking to himself. It didn’t fill the emptiness, though—without her, nothing ever would. With trembling hands, he turned to the nav-computer and set the target coordinates for the jump that would take him back into the starry void.

  Part IV: Homeworld

  Chapter 16

  “Hi, Noemi,” said Jeremiah, smiling as he spoke to the holoscreen monitor. “It’s me, Jerem-ahra. Long time no see, huh? I—” Feeling suddenly stupid, he switched off the recorder and threw himself back against the oversized command chair. The instrument panels of the Ariadne hummed softly in the silence, while outside, the deep space starfield shone through the cockpit window with the soft light of countless millions of stars. It all felt empty, though—empty and cold, so far from the warmth of human company.

  He sighed and rechecked the coordinates on the nav-computer. Zeta Oriana was little more than a tenth of a light-year away—close enough that the bluish-white star shone much brighter than all the others. But to accurately pinpoint his exit from jumpspace, he had to let the Ariadne’s energy reserves build for another hour. Until then, there was nothing to do but sit and wait, alone.

  That was always the hardest part.

  After almost a minute, he leaned forward and switched the recording device on again. This time, there were no smiles or cheerful hand waves. He let the device run for a few seconds before looking into the camera.

  “Hi, Noemi,” he said, nodding. “I hope this message finds you well. I’ll try to speak clearly for the auto-translator, though no doubt you’ll need Mariya’s help as well. Then again, maybe you’ve learned enough Gaian by now to understand it on your own. I’m sure that whatever you’ve learned, it will come as a pleasant surprise.”

  He paused for a moment to find his words. “By the time you get this message, I will be well on my way to one of the other stars in this local sector. I hope you won’t be upset that I didn’t wait for you—I want to make sure that as many people know about our new colony as possible, so that we won’t become too isolated. Once we’ve settled down at Zarmina, we’ll need all the outside connections we can get.”

  Of course, that wasn’t the only reason he was going—or even the most important. But Noemi wouldn’t be the only one to hear this message, and he didn’t want to stir that conflict.

  “I wish I could be there with you, though—I wish to all the stars I could see you.” He smiled. “Is the baby coming along well? I know you’re in good hands on the Hope of Oriana. I’ll join you again at Zarmina, just in time to see the baby, I hope. And then, I promise that whatever happens, we’ll always be together.”

  He looked straight into the camera, imagining Noemi’s face with her girlish cheeks, her long brown hair, and her deep green eyes. A lump rose in his throat, and he took a deep breath as he choked it back down.

  “I love you,” he said softly. “I miss you very much. Take good care of yourself, and until we meet again … goodbye.”

  He switched off the recorder and stared out at the starfield. Zeta Oriana shone like a beacon in the midst of the starry deep, but it was still just as cold as all the others. Without his wife, no place held any warmth for him.

  * * * * *

  “Jeremiah, my friend!”

  Those words greeted Jeremiah almost the moment he stepped into the bare metal corridors of Rift Station. He turned and saw a wrinkled and familiar face grinning at him: Thomas, the station master of Zeta Oriana’s only settlement. The lanky old man clasped Jeremiah’s arm and gave it a firm shake.

  “It’s good to see you too, Thomas.”

  “Been a little while, hasn’t it? Thought you might have gone and settled down by now.”

  Jeremiah chuckled. “Well, don’t speak too soon—there may be more truth in that than you know.”

  “Oh?” said Thomas, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I hope you’ve got a full hold, because we’ve got plenty of ore to trade. Come, let’s talk about it over a beer.”

  The gravity on the station was lighter than Jeremiah remembered. He had to hold onto the handrails just to keep from lunging forward. A long, narrow window to his right showed the pocked and cratered surface of the asteroid on which the station had been built. Of course, most of the gravity was artificial—the asteroid itself was so small that even the Ariadne had no trouble lifting off from its surface.

  “Still haven’t built those extra reactors, I see,” he remarked. “When are you going to get around to that?”

  Thomas shrugged. “Eh, the miners prefer the gravity a little light—makes it easier when they come in from a haul. You get used to it after a while.”

  Perhaps, Jeremiah thought to himself. But keeping it this low can’t be good for pregnancy.

  Not that Noemi would be staying long. The station was much too small to accommodate all the colonists: besides the warehouse, smelters, and processing plant, there was just the dockyard, two sets of dormitories, a small hydroponics farm, and an old cantina bar attached to a small lounge. Living space in the Outworlds was tight, especially this far from the Coreward stars.

  “We’re expanding into some of the old mines,” said Thomas as if he’d read his mind. “Building some private apartments, a community center—that sort of thing. In a few years, we’ll be more than just a mining outpost.”

  They stepped through a hatchway into the cantina. About half a dozen miners and starfarers huddled around the bar, while maybe as many as fifteen others sat in booths along the edge of the dimly lit room. The air smelled of hookah smoke and cooking spices, mingled with a light scent of mildew that could always be found on the older ships and stations. A few heads turned as they stepped into the room, but most of the people paid Jeremiah little mind.

  “Here, have a seat,” said Thomas, directing him to the bar. Overhead, the tinny speakers began to play an old pop song from Alpha Oriana, about five or six
standard years out of date.

  “I’ll take a plate of synthmeal and beans,” Jeremiah told the bartender. “And a pint of your local beer to wash it down.”

  “A pint for me, too, Judith” said Thomas.

  The bartender, a rather stocky middle-aged woman, nodded and turned to pour their drinks. A moment later, she set two dented metal mugs in front of them, both overflowing with a light amber foam. Jeremiah drank with relish—it had been a long time since he’d had a decent beer. One thing could be said about the Far Outworlds: the people sure knew how to make a good homegrown brew.

  “So what have you brought us?” Thomas asked.

  Jeremiah set his mug down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Gamman beef,” he said. “Straight from B’tum. Cryogenically frozen, of course.”

  “Steak?”

  “Any cut, you name it. I’ve got five astral tonnes of the stuff, and I’m looking to offload it all if I can.”

  “Ah, Jeremiah,” said Thomas, slapping him on the back, “you sure know how to treat us right. We’ll happily take it off your hands. Anything else we can do for you?”

  The bartender set down a steaming platter of dark brown mush in front of Jeremiah, along with a fork. He leaned forward and took a bite of the stuff—bland, but not too bad. The beer would wash it down nicely.

  “Not much,” he said. “I only ask a small favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  He pulled out the datachip with the recording for Noemi and placed it on the counter top. “There’s a colony ship called the Hope of Oriana coming through here in a few weeks, and I want you to give this to them.”

  “I see,” said Thomas. He picked up the chip. “What’s in it?”

  “Just some personal messages. My wife is on that ship, and I wanted to let her know that I’m thinking of her.”

  Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Your wife?”

  “Yeah. We’re headed for the Zarmina system, where we hope to settle down and start a new colony.”