by Various
Each of the warriors had a long-bladed knife in his waistband. They approached the Wallaces and stopped just a few feet from them. The tall warrior held the spear at his side and glared at Roger. The warrior on the left was only an inch or two shorter than the tall one but just as menacing. The one on the right, however, barely reached the shoulders of the other two. Roger didn’t know if he was young or just short. It was obvious that he was entranced by the food Louise held on the tray.
“God loves you,” Roger said. He knew they didn’t understand what he said but he wanted those to be his first words to the Ananke.
Roger held his open hands up so the warriors could see he held no weapons. “Welcome.”
They spoke to each other, but the Wallaces had not yet learned their language. Gaining proficiency with the native tongue would be one of their main goals as they got to know the people.
“We baked these for you,” Louise said as she held out the plate of cookies.
The three warriors looked at the offered gift but made no move to take anything.
She took a bite of one of the cookies so they would know it was food. “They’re very good,” Louise said in her most enticing voice. Still the warriors didn’t move.
The tallest one stepped forward. Roger figured he must be their leader. The warrior had a chiseled body, as all the Ananke did, but the noticeable feature of this one was the deep gash that ran from just above his ear to the tip of his jaw.
The tall warrior said something in the guttural language of the Ananke.
“What did he say, Roy?”
“I don’t know, Mr. W. I haven’t mastered their language yet.”
Roger held out his right hand with his palm up. One of the explorers they talked with said it was a traditional greeting of friendship with the Ananke.
All three warriors stopped talking and stared at Roger’s open palm.
“We come in peace,” Roger said.
The leader never took his eyes off Roger’s hand. The other two gripped the handles of their long knives.
Roger dropped his hand to his side and before he could say anything, the short warrior grabbed Louise by the hair, pulled his long-bladed knife and pressed it against her throat.
“No!” Roger yelled.
The short warrior pulled his knife across Louise’s throat. Blood spurted out. Her mouth moved but she was unable to make a sound.
The leader shoved his spear deep into Roger’s belly.
“Run, Master Matthew,” Roy said to the boy.
Roger collapsed to the ground, gripping the spear that had penetrated his body. The little boy screamed and ran to his parents but the third warrior tripped him, then placed his foot on the boy’s head. Terrified, the boy stayed perfectly still.
The tall warrior pulled his spear from Roger’s belly.
The short warrior picked up one of the cookies on the ground and tasted it. He smiled and said something to his friends. They picked up all the cookies and walked across the field, disappearing into the trees.
The little boy crawled to his father’s outstretched hand. “Daddy.”
Roger tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come. Matthew hugged his father. Roger looked at Roy.
“I’ll take care of him, Mr. W.”
Roger’s eyes closed.
Chapter 2
MATT WALLACE opened his eyes. He felt the sweat dripping down the side of his face and knew it was pooling on the bed sheets. His hands still shook but he knew that would stop in a few seconds.
The features of the small cabin were slowly coming into focus. The trip was nearly over and soon he would be on land again. They all would. Maybe then the nightmare would end.
“Did you have the dream again?” Roy asked.
The damn dream.
The murder of his parents was the nightmare that woke Matt up most days. He was only six when it happened, but he could still hear, see and feel every moment of it. He’d watched the hologram of the event thousands of times, even though the counselor said he shouldn’t.
After his parents were murdered he didn’t have any family to take him in, so he spent the next eleven years on the planet living with the families of people in the Marshal’s Service. That was probably why he became a marshal instead of a missionary. He learned to speak the Ananke language and he learned to hate the Ananke people. When he was sent away to the Marshal’s Academy he promised himself he would never come back to this godforsaken place.
“What time is it?” Matt asked.
“The Department has psychiatrists who will work with you on your issues.”
“I don’t have any issues,” Matt growled as he slid out of the small bunk and watched it fold up into the wall.
“Master Matthew,” Roy said in his fatherly voice.
Roy was state of the art when Matt’s parents bought the robot, but now it was an outdated piece of crap most people would have trashed. Matt couldn’t bring himself to recycle it, however. It was the only thing he had left that belonged to his parents.
“There are specialists,” Roy continued. It really was a fatherly voice. Matt had Roy synthesize the videos of his dad so it took on his dad’s voice. “They could help you learn to bring love into your job.”
“I administer justice. I don’t need no damn love to administer justice.”
The personal cleaning unit opened so Matt could take his morning shower.
“How is she?”
Roy’s lights flashed on and off. A soft buzz indicated he was accessing the database. The newer models would have anticipated the question and have had the answer ready for him before he even asked. He really needed to check them out. They weren’t that expensive and it wasn’t like he would lose any data. Roy would just transfer it to a more modern unit.
“Blood pressure normal. Pulse normal. Temperature normal. Brain activity normal for someone who has been sleeping for seven months.”
Seven months. It seemed like an eternity to Matt, but the long wait would all be worth it. This had to work.
“I bet you’re excited to see her again,” Roy said. “See her awake, I mean.”
Matt didn’t answer, but “excited” didn’t come close to describing his feelings. To touch her. To talk to her. To look in her eyes again. God, she had such beautiful eyes.
“Wake up Sherrie and tell her I’ll meet her for breakfast.”
Matt stepped into the cleaning unit.
“She was up pretty late last night,” Roy said. “Perhaps we could let her sleep a little longer this morning.”
“We have schedules to keep. Routines are important.”
Matt knew routines kept him alive during these last two years. Just the thought of losing Lydia was more than he could handle. He was ready to give up, but he had to be there for his wife and his daughter. He couldn’t do it without routines. He didn’t have to worry about getting through life or even the day. Just one step at a time. Routines told him where that next step would be.
Roy didn’t move. “I was thinking you might want to review that arrest you made yesterday. Perhaps you might want to release him before we get to Altair.”
“Possession of grade-one narcotics is against the law.”
“But I checked his background.”
“His background doesn’t matter. He broke the law. I arrest people who break the law. That’s my job.”
“He might bring some pressure on you in your new position.”
“Roy, you know how I feel about this. Justice applies to everyone, or it isn’t justice. End of discussion. Now wake up Sherrie.”
“We’re almost to Altair,” Roy said softly. “A few extra minutes…”
The cleaning unit was about to begin, but Matt stuck his arm out and pointed at the floating robot.
“Are you afraid of her?”
“Don’t be silly,” Roy answered. “Afraid? That’s ridiculous. Who ever heard of such a thing? Afraid?”
“Good. Breakfast is at zero seven hundred.”
“I was just thinking on her last day in space it might be a treat if her dad—you, Master Matthew—let her sleep in a few minutes. A treat. Something special. A father-daughter thing.”
“If you can’t do your job, Roy, maybe I should look for one of those new computers who do what they’re told.”
“I’ll wake her right up. Don’t want to let the day go to waste. Lots to do. Lessons. Exercises. Don’t worry. I’m on it. Routines are important.”
The small robot glided out of the cabin. Matt waited for the cleaning unit to start.
• • •
A doctor was available in the medical pod but he didn’t have anything to do. The equipment operated flawlessly, monitoring the patients and adjusting their treatments.
Forty pods were occupied by the sleeping guests on their way to Altair and the 95 percent healing rate the medical resort offered.
“Hi, Doc.” Matt nodded his head in the doctor’s direction and walked directly to the pod that held his wife.
Matt wore the dress uniform of a space marshal. The creases were sharp. The medals and badges were shiny. His shoes sparkled.
“She’s doing well,” the doctor said.
Matt laid his hand on the protective glass case that encircled the pod. Lydia’s seven-month sleep was about to come to an end. All of her bodily functions had been slowed to an almost imperceptible rate, which also slowed down the spread of the aggressive cancer attacking her organs.
“We’ll be there in a few hours,” Matt said to his wife. “I’ve been relearning the language. It came back quickly. I think Sherrie’s getting pretty good with it, too.”
Though Lydia couldn’t respond, Matt came here five times every day and updated his wife on what was happening in their family. A routine he had been following for seven months.
“It won’t take you long to learn. The grammar is easy enough, but it will be fun watching you try to pronounce some of their words. Imagine belching while keeping your tongue pressed against your top front teeth. You’ll like that one.”
She looked so peaceful inside the pod. Her skin was smooth. Her eyelids were closed and he could imagine the moment when she opened them and he could see her eyes again.
“Sherrie will be glad to see you. I’m keeping her up on her studies but I can tell she wants you. I don’t have your way of dealing with her.”
The nurse came by and touched the marshal’s sleeve.
“Everything will be fine,” the nurse said. “Altair offers the best treatment in the galaxy.”
Matt nodded. It had been twenty years since he had been on the planet. After the murder of his parents, Altair was the last place he wanted to be. Then they got the news of Lydia’s incurable cancer. Altair was a high-end medical resort. Dr. Eric Barkman, a pioneering researcher, had discovered treatments and medicines on the planet that healed incurable diseases. Cancer was one of those diseases. The waiting period to be accepted for treatment was over three years and all that did was get you on a list. Only the rich and powerful were able to get on the list.
When Matt heard the marshal’s position was open on Altair, he applied for the posting, but he never thought he would get it, because there were so many applicants who had more experience on medical resorts. He was just a frontier marshal. Developed cities and the politics that went with them were things he’d spent his career trying to avoid.
But he got the job.
How, he didn’t know and didn’t really care. Lydia said it was answered prayer. Matt figured it was more likely a clerical error.
As the new marshal of Altair, Matt could have his wife placed at the top of the waiting list, and she would receive her treatments for free. As much as he hated resort planets, cities, politics, and Altair, there was never any question of what he would do. On Altair, Lydia would be healed.
She would live.
They would be able to watch Sherrie grow up.
They would be able to grow old together.
For those things he was willing to do a five-year tour at the medical resort. Damn. He would have been willing to do a twenty-year tour if they had asked. The place that took his parents was going to give him back his wife. Maybe there was a God after all.
• • •
Roy hovered over the sleeping form of Sherrie Wallace. The fourteen-year-old looked so peaceful when she was asleep, but she definitely did not like being wakened. Roy did a quick beep and backed away. The girl didn’t move. Roy came back and hovered about a foot away from the girl.
“Wake up, princess.”
Again he backed away. She pulled the covers over her head. Roy slowly came near to the lump in the bed.
“Five minutes,” the girl mumbled from under the covers.
Roy floated close to her ear and whispered in a soft, caring voice. “Time to wake up, princess. Your father…”
Sherrie’s arm slammed into the robot, sending Roy flying across the cabin. He smashed into the wall and dropped to the floor. It took several seconds for diagnostics to assess the damage and make the needed repairs. A few beeps and flashing lights, and he slowly rose up in the air about four feet.
Roy approached the bed slowly, staying just out of arm’s reach.
“Your father expects you to join him for breakfast at zero seven hundred.”
“Seven a.m., Roy. Seven a.m.”
“Yes, princess.”
“Everyone else on this piece of flying junk gets to sleep for seven months. You couldn’t give me five more minutes?”
“We have a busy day planned.” Roy tried to sound enthusiastic. “After breakfast, you have a one-hour run, then a math assignment, then we have language lessons, then…”
Sherrie slid her feet off the bed. Roy backed up quickly.
“Don’t worry. I’m awake now.”
The bunk folded up into the wall and the personal cleaning unit opened.
“Any messages?”
“Not many.”
Sherrie cocked her head and glared at the robot.
“A few. I can respond to them if you want.”
Sherrie didn’t say a word, and Roy backed up several feet.
“You know your father doesn’t want you communicating with him.”
“Play it.”
“You don’t want to be late for breakfast.”
“Play it now, you little piece of…”
Roy displayed the hologram and Sherrie faded into a star-struck gaze as she watched Westin Palmer speak to her.
Westin was sixteen years old. He wore an orange jumpsuit, the standard dress of everyone on Terraplan, the last planet her dad was assigned to as a marshal.
“I miss you,” the hologram of Westin said.
While he told of his family’s vacation in the outback, Sherrie gazed at his beautiful face. It was his first vacation in three years where she wasn’t with them. Sherrie’s mom was best friends with Westin’s mom and they took vacations together twice a year. Dad was always too busy doing his marshal work to take a vacation. The outback was where she first realized Westin was more than just the son of one of mom’s friends. He was smart and athletic and gentle and funny and…
“I’ve got to go now,” Westin’s hologram said. “Please don’t forget me.”
He held out his hand, his palm extended to her. Sherrie held her palm up to the image.
“He can’t feel that,” Roy said. “The message was sent over a week ago.”
The hologram disappeared.
“Play it again.”
“You’re going to be late for breakfast. Your dad wouldn’t like that.”
Sherrie knew Roy was right, but it was her precious Westin. “Again.”
She watched the message three more times before she let Roy stop.
Sherrie started to undress but stopped and looked at Roy.
“I’m a machine. I don’t have any emotions when you get declothed.”
“Yeah, but you record everything that happens around you, so get your little butt out of this room.”
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“I do not have a butt, princess.”
Sherrie grabbed a hairbrush and threw it at him. Roy dodged it and headed toward the door.
“I’ll wait in the hall.”
Chapter 3
THE DOCKING platform on Altair was filled with people. A line of doctors and staff were on one side of the area. The Ananke healers were on the other side. Between them were the happy clients who had completed their treatments. There were hugs, tears, smiles, and promises to stay in touch.
In addition to enjoying the festive time of sending healed patients back to their lives on distant planets, the people on Altair were busy preparing for the Visitors to arrive in a few days as part of the annual Galaxy Tour.
But right now it was a time for rejoicing over what this planet did best.
Dr. Barkman stood at a position between the lines, flanked by Chief Deputy Charles Lewis.
“I love you,” a woman said as she hugged Dr. Barkman.
Her husband held out his hand to shake the doctor’s hand, but he too ended up hugging him. Tears streamed down his face.
“You gave me back my wife.”
“You take care of her,” the doctor said.
“I will.”
“Treasure each moment you have together.” It was advice he gave each of his patients. It was good advice. Too many people let the days slip by without valuing what was important. It wasn’t until they had a life-threatening illness and could see the end coming that they began to understand the gift of life.
Arms around each other, the couple headed toward the departure lounge, where they would be prepped for the seven-month trip back to their home.
“That’s the last one,” Chief Deputy Lewis said.
Another forty people had been miraculously brought back from the edge of eternity and given a new chance at life. These were the times that made the years of searching and suffering worthwhile, Dr. Barkman thought. He was a healer. Some said he was the greatest healer in the galaxy, but he wasn’t seeking praise. He just wanted to help people. That’s all it was ever about.
With the healed patients out of the way, the staff gathered around the docking connection, waiting for the new crop of patients—clients, they called them—to arrive.
