Shrotru: Departure Episode 2 (Journey to Rehnor)

by J. Naomi Ay

  “You’re pretty,” Torim whispered, his breath coming hard and heavy into Clara’s hair, as he pressed himself against her on the back wall. Her hair smelled a little greasy, and clothes were a bit sour, but he didn’t care, as like everyone aboard, she rarely washed. She was compliant though, and there wasn’t any straw or manure stuck to her skin, unlike the last maid who worked in the barn during the day.

  “Thank you, sir,” Clara replied, even though she felt miserable inside. This guy was still a teenager, and his hands fumbled awkwardly, grasping hard.

  Torim murmured something else, something Clara didn’t quite catch as she had heard a noise, and briefly, look over his shoulder. No one was there, at least as far as she could see, yet, she could have sworn there had been a flash. Yes! There it was again.

  “Please stop!”

  “What!?!”

  “What is that?” Clara’s voice took on a hysterical tone, as she snapped at Torim, and pushed him away.

  Torim would have sworn at the girl, and called her a few demeaning terms were it not for the odd light that was shining down the hall. He jumped, as did Clara, bolting off toward the common room where Lot was singing songs about his trains. Torim narrowed his eyes and stared, for the light was now shifting and shaping into an orb.

  “Aliens,” he breathed, frozen in place.

  It had to be. It wasn’t ordinary. It wasn’t anything he’d ever encounter before, and it certainly wasn’t a reflection from a light in the hallway. Even if there had been some sort of torch or light fixture shining from above, its beam wouldn’t have shone like a ball suspended in the air.

  Torim’s voice caught in his throat, as he held out his hands in surrender, when footsteps came up behind him nearly stopping his heart.

  “Hold on,” Lewy whispered, gently placing a hand on Torim’s shoulder, and softly whistling between his teeth. “Would you look at that.”

  The orb turned and twisted, one moment a ball and the next a helical shape, while the colors of the rainbow spilled inside it.

  Torim wanted to ask what it was, but Lewy seemed equally as dumbfounded, the other’s eyes bulging wildly from his sockets.

  “We come in peace,” Lewy said, holding up a hand in surrender.

  “Yeah,” Torim agreed, holding up one of his.

  The orb wobbled and throbbed. It twisted inside and out, the colors shining brighter than before. It began to pulsate, for a moment growing immense, before collapsing in upon itself. Then, it completely disappeared, vanished into nothing, as if it had never been.

  “Aliens,” Torim murmured. “Or, something else.”

  Chapter 8

  Lewy went into the lavatory and puked out his guts.

  “Want a smoke?” Pori offered, leaning against the adjacent stall. “It’s the only thing that settles my stomach when we’re out here.”

  Taking a deep breath, Lewy shook his head, thinking the cigarette smoke was making him even more ill.

  “Suit yourself,” Pori replied, a snicker in his voice, a sneer of derision permanently plastered on his face. “Is the young Lord still getting it on with the girl?”

  The cig dropped on the floor where a moment later, it was crushed by Pori’s foot. Lewy watched the ash spread, creating grey streaks on the linoleum that someone other than Pori would have to clean.

  “They’re done,” he mumbled, splashing a tiny drop of cold water on his face. He would have liked to dip his head in a giant trough, or at least a bowl larger than this tiny sink. Water was precious, too precious to waste on this, so he wet a towel and dabbed it against his brow.

  “That was quick,” Pori snorted, and sauntered out the door. “That’s what happens when you send a teen to do the job of a man.”

  “Don’t touch her,” Lewy cautioned, staring at his wan reflection in the mirror. If there were aliens aboard, Lewy hoped that they would take Pori first.

  When Lewy left his dad’s farm and signed on with Royal Guard, he had no idea he’d be going to outer space. He thought he would be protecting the Palace, or some other government building where a bunch of bureaucrats worked. Either that, or he'd be patrolling the borders, keeping them safe from intruders from Hahr.

  Lewy imagined standing inside an old lighthouse with a big pair of binoculars hanging around his neck. He'd keep his eyes peeled for the enemy, who might be crossing the ocean in a boat or an airplane. If he spied someone, he’d take out his rifle and knock the enemy out.

  Unbeknownst to Lewy, Karupatani had a highly technical radar and sonar system that worked a whole lot better than a guy with glasses, which Lewy came to find out after about five minutes into boot camp.

  "Are you a fool, recruit?" his sergeant had asked, when Lewy suggested this would be a good job for him.

  "Yes, sir. I am a fool," Lewy dutifully replied, while thinking that radar ought to be useful back home on the farm.

  If border patrol didn't work out, Lewy's second choice was to take a posting in a silo. They had lots of those back home, and he figured he knew exactly how they worked. That was until he discovered that the army’s silos weren’t filled with grain, but rather a large and lethal nuclear missile just waiting to blast off. Lewy’s job would have been to stay down there deep underground waiting for an order to launch. As he had always been afraid of cellars, and got claustrophobic in dark places, Lewy opted for his third choice which was the clandestine service.

  This, he discovered, was a fancy way of saying he would be a spy. That all sounded well and good until Lewy had to take a language class. The people of Hahr spoke a different dialect with an accent that sounded like coughing to Lewy's ears, and no matter how hard he tried to replicate it, his tongue couldn’t manage all those dipthongs.

  The last option for Lewy was the Airforce, even though he was scared to death of flying in a plane. He just didn’t understand how this giant heavy monster could get itself way up there, and not come crashing down when the wind stopped blowing.

  For the first few sessions of his training, Lewy spent the entire time in the lavs puking up his guts, and everything else. He was afraid to look out the windows, unable to hold up his gun, and completely useless when it came to operating the equipment.

  As punishment, Lewy was grounded for a while, and sentenced to extra cleaning duties, and guard shifts. Eventually, he convinced himself that scrubbing toilets with a toothbrush was worse than sitting in an airplane with his hands on a laser. With a resolve never to clean another head, and concentrate instead on making his shots, Lewy took to the air once again, even though he never grew to like it.

  The truth was, the Airforce wanted Lewy because he was a good shot. In fact, as a sniper, he had rated higher than any other recruit. His skill seemed to be intuitive and amazingly accurate. When asked where he had learned to shoot with such precision, Lewy replied, that back home on the farm when the coyotes came after his sheep, he went after them with his rifle and took them out.

  During his first tour of duty, Lewy got plenty of airtime shooting at Saintists, eventually acquiring more kills than any other new recruit. However, there was a large degree of regret in this distinction, as he honestly felt it wasn't making any difference. Lewy shot at them, and they shot back, over and over, and around and around, with people dying on both sides, and no end to the war in sight.

  After a few years in the service, during a flight across the ocean, in which they were en route to bomb the city of Takira-hahr, an airman who had been sitting next to Lewy got up to use the head. He was walking toward the back of the plane when they hit some nasty turbulence. The young man went flying down the aisle, until he caught his leg between some crates.

  As soon as the turbulence let up, Lewy was the first one there to set him free. He could tell pretty quickly that the airman’s leg was broken as that white bone was sticking right out. Lewy fixed up his buddy with a splint made from an old gun barrel, and wrapped it up tight with his own t-shirt, something he had done a few times before with his livestock. Then, he
gave the airman a sedative from the First Aid kid on board before returning to his seat to destroy parts of Takira-hahr.

  Lewy got a medal for fixing the airman’s leg, and also a cash award for accuracy in annihilating the coastal regions of one of Hahr’s major cities. Takira-hahr had been known for its warm, calm waters, and endless beaches of sugary pink sand, which thanks in part to Lewy, now ran red with the blood of thousands of beachgoers.

  Afterward, his commanding officer asked if Lewy was interested in becoming a medic, as he had a talent for fixing up people as well as shooting them down. Lewy jumped on the chance to get out of the air, which included a promotion to Senior Airman. In addition, he’d be back on the ground, even it was in a classroom.

  At the time, he was completely unware where his skill set was about to take him. However, shortly after, he was summoned to the General’s office for a private meeting. As he sat outside on the plastic folding chair, Lewy wondered what he was being punished for. Unlike most other airman, he had a fairly clean record of temperance and avoiding bar fights. He’d also been fulfilling his share of cleaning duties, even tidying up when the other guys were too drunk, or had forgotten.

  His bunk space was neat and clean, although he kept a small sparrow in a shoe box in his cupboard. This was against the rules, but he figured she wouldn’t cause any problems. She didn’t make a noise while she rested and healed her broken wing, which Lewy had set with a Popsicle stick and piece of medical tape. As soon as she was better, he intended to set her free. Surely, a General wouldn’t be called upon to reprimand him for that.

  Actually, the reason for the meeting was a compliment to Lewy’s skills and aptitude, for he had been selected for a top secret, special assignment in outer space. He was forbidden from telling any of his bunk mates about it and in fact, the next day they moved him out of the barracks and into a space ship, which had never been flown anywhere by anyone before. Fortunately, the crew survived the initial ascent, although the passage through the thermosphere sent Lewy’s stomach reeling.

  Over the next year, they practiced this trip quite often, first flying up into space and coming back down. Sometimes they travelled for weeks throughout the solar system. Space sickness plagued nearly everyone on board, so Lewy became quite adept at recognizing the symptoms. Treatment was limited to physical activity, which jarred the lymphatic system into action. If the patient couldn’t move by themselves, the others had to help him.

  Lewy wasn’t particularly thrilled with his new assignment, as he regarded space travel as even worse than flying through air. At least an airplane landed fairly quickly, while the spacecraft could be travelling for days and weeks, leaving everyone stuck together like sardines in a can. He didn’t have a choice though. The General ordered Lewy to the stars, and being a patriot and man of honor, Lewy complied. In addition, he got a bit of bonus pay for hazardous duty, which he sent back home to his daddy’s farm. Given his druthers, he would have rather been there than here.

  About a year after Lewy took his first ride in space, the tiny craft was on a mission orbiting the Rozarian moon. Emergency orders came in, and immediately, they descended down to the planet to retrieve the Duke of Shortru and his family. This had been their secret mission all along, and only now did the crew members learn why.

  While loading the ducal family aboard, the Captain ordered Lewy to shoot anyone else who tried to rush the ship. Lewy did as he was commanded, because he was loyal and that was his job. He closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger, pretending it was coyotes instead of men and women howling.

  When Lewy finally looked again, all he could see were those big colored mushroom clouds growing above the cities. It was then, that Lewy figured he had actually done all those people a favor.

  Putting a bullet in their skulls killed them instantly, instead of letting them wait for those big clouds to turn them into dust. This was how Lewy managed to sleep at night, by telling himself this over and over. Even though he did so, every night, he didn’t believe it. Every day, the memory of their screams and falling bodies made him heart sick.

  “Are you alright, Lew?” Mills found the crewman still staring in the mirror.

  Lewy nodded, watching his checks sway up and down.

  “Are we done for the night?” Mills asked, the stall door swinging behind him. “Or, do you want to play a few more hands.”

  “I’m done,” Lewy murmured. “How’s the girl?”

  “A little hysterical, until the Captain gave her a pill. Now, she’s sitting in the common room, watching the little guy play with his toys, and mumbling something that nobody can understand.” The plumbing flushed. Mills reappeared. “You look like you could use a pill too.” He punched Lewy in the arm. “Ach well, if you don’t want cards, I guess I’ll go see if the Master needs me for anything.” He chuckled, knowing full and well that the Duke was in his own world down below. “See ya later.”

  Lewy nodded as the door swung shut. Then, he dropped to his knees in front of the sink. When the Captain found him a short time later, he replied that he had been praying, although the lavatory seemed an incredibly odd place to do it.

  Chapter 9

  Captain Hannah wasn’t feeling all that great herself. It wasn’t the traveling that was bothering her, or the ship. In fact, the spacecraft was performing well. Certainly, there were less issues than on most of their preparatory flights, and space sickness was something she had conquered long before.

  Hannah couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was that was gnawing at her stomach, filling her with unease. She was convinced there was something unsettling inside the ship, something that hadn’t been there before, something beyond just the odd collection of passengers and crew.

  If she could have contacted the other captains, she would have asked them if they were experiencing the same, but there hadn’t been any response to her hailing pings for several weeks.

  Frankly, at this point, Hannah wasn’t sure if any of the other ships were still out there. As far as she knew, and as far as she was concerned, it was just the Shrotru heading to Rehnor with whatever else happened to be aboard.

  After finding Lewy in the lavatory prostrate on the floor, a smudge of Pori’s cigarette ash on his face, Hannah’s heart began to race. Lewy was by far her most reliable crewman. She had personally chosen him from all other candidates. She had counted on his steady hands, and stable demeanor to steer them through the vast unknowns off their ship’s bow.

  “What’s going on?” she demanded, offering him her hand, while steadying her breath. She could do this, she told herself, even without him if she had to, although it sure would be easier if he was around.

  As if waking from a dream, Lewy shook his head, and glanced around the room.

  “I’m sorry, Ma’am,” he began to say, his voice breathy and dazed. As if he had forgotten what he was doing, or why he had been there on the bathroom floor, he sheepishly rose to his feet, and forced a smile, a half salute.

  “I’m on duty now, right?”

  “Yes, Lewy.” Hannah stood back as the crewman headed for the door. He ran his fingers through his hair, and shook himself all over like a dog. “Did you see something?”

  Lewy paused, his hand on the knob, his mouth open, his brow furrowed and confused.

  “No, Ma’am. I think I must have been overly tired. I’m alright now, Ma’am. I’m off to do my job.”

  Hannah was left alone in the washroom, thinking she was also overly tired. That must be the source of this unease, this trepidation that filled her body, and left her soul humming as if all her nerves were exposed.

  This whole voyage was stressful. In fact, the last few years waiting for this moment, had almost sent Hannah over the edge. Again. She put her hands on the sink, and took a deep, calming breath, while reminding herself she chose this job, and why.

  At the time, Hannah had wondered if she was the only one who saw the handwriting on the wall. Karukan de Kudisha and Markiis Kalila were playing a dangerous
game of Chicken, and everyone on the planet was going to suffer the consequences. This didn't happen overnight. This had been coming on for years, each guy baiting the other one, taunting him, provoking him until one of them pushed the button, and then it was too late.

  "We need to leave," she told her mother, while the older woman was watching a game show on her television.

  "And go where exactly, Hannah?"

  "I don't know. Somewhere else."

  "I'm not going anywhere. I've already planned a cruise for next year. I've put down a deposit." Hannah’s mother picked up her crocheting, and turned her attention back to the TV. "You could come with me if you want. We'll split the cost of the cabin. You’ll have lots of fun. The ship is loaded with single men."

  "No, thanks," Hannah mumbled, thinking there wouldn't even be a next year, or a ship, or any men, single or otherwise.

  Hannah told her friends Sue and Babs over coffee and rolls at the street bistro.

  "You're too reactionary, Hannah," they replied. "Nothing's going to happen. It's just politicians posturing as they always do. Let's try this new place downtown for lunch next week. Everything there is low fat, low carb and a hundred percent organic. Besides that, it’s all grown without damaging any rainforests or exploiting any people."

  Hannah told Kevin, the guy she was dating off and on. It wasn’t really serious, but more like someone when there was no one else to call. He stopped calling her after that. He told her she was acting too radical.