Stars Beneath My Feet

by D L Frizzell

  I tossed the shackled arm on the seat next to me, revved the motor, and steered the flyer to the far side of the skyscraper where the vortex reactor’s power thrummed menacingly. Police flyers had landed haphazardly on the lawn, their lights still flashing as the vehicles bounced from the increasing tremors. The sky was a bright purple with lightning bolts shooting around the wall. I felt the ground heave under the landing skids as I hit the ground.

  Kuznetsov staggered over to see me, all but hopeless. Behind him, a dozen men in lab coats clung to a green touch screen in quiet desperation. “We can’t get inside,” Kuznetsov shouted. “Jarnum locked all the entryways with a biometric scan. It will take too long to break in.”

  I retrieved Jarnum’s shackled arm from the passenger seat and held it out to the major. “Use this,” I said.

  Kuznetsov gawked at the shackled arm for a moment, and then looked at me.

  “I’ll need it back when you’re done,” I shouted over the noise.

  Kuznetsov grabbed the arm and sprinted across the lawn to join the scientists.

  I didn’t stay. I doubted I could help turn off the reactor anyway. Let Kuznetsov and his people do their job. Besides, I was tired and the vibrations in the ground were making my teeth ache. I gunned the flyer’s engines and rose back into the air.

  A few minutes later, the flyer drifted unsteered over the crumbling Dolinian landscape. I had no hat to shield my face from the flashes of unharnessed vortex power overhead. The sky filled with crackling electricity, louder than the flyer’s damaged rotor engine. I climbed into the back seat. It wasn’t built for comfort, but I really, really needed the shuteye. Laying my left arm over my face to shield me from the intense flickering light, I spent the next moments thinking about the terrible and awesome things I’d seen. I had traveled halfway around the planet, survived enemies and allies alike. I’d learned more than I wanted to, especially about myself, but I’d stuck it out until the bitter end. If the world did splinter and come apart, I could say with my last breath that I’d finished what I started. That was something, at least.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Wake up, Alex Vonn.

  A cool breeze wafted over me, caused mainly by the silently spinning rotors of my borrowed flyer. I pushed back my new wide-brimmed hat to look around. Daytime had returned to Dolina, not as bright as before, but at least the sky was mostly blue. Purple streaks still danced where the clouds were supposed to be, but they were only a minor distraction. I looked left over the flyer’s side panel and saw the artificial sun rising above the artificial horizon below. It was a weird shade of green at the moment, but I knew the color would improve as noon approached. I chuckled to myself. There was an old joke in the northern hemisphere: Whenever somebody asked what time it was, the answer was always noon. I figured the Dolinians wouldn’t get it, as their sun actually moved across the sky, but that made the joke even funnier in my mind.

  A six-seat flyer glided to a hover next to me, with a smiling Kuznetsov at the controls. Next to him, Norio sat solemnly. Hathan-Fen and Brady sat in the middle seats, with Kate and my mother in the rear.

  “I thought T’Neth didn’t come into Dolina,” I said. "You've been here twice now."

  You were taking too long, Kate and Loro thought simultaneously. We didn’t want to wait anymore.

  “Wait for what?” I asked.

  We were going to visit the Sanctum, remember?

  “Oh, yeah.” I put my seat in the upright position and adjusted my hat. “Lead the way,” I said.

  Kuznetsov banked right and descended toward the tunnel entrance at the far side of Dolina. I followed, noting with some satisfaction that repairs to Dolina’s buildings were well underway. People were picking up the pieces, and that was a good sign that normalcy might yet return.

  We landed by the tunnel, stopped to appreciate the waterfall for a moment, and then found our way to the door that led to the T’Neth train station. Mayford waited for us on the train while Seku stood at the door waiting for us. When she saw me, she held out her hand and manifested two bright wisps. I drew an infinity symbol around them with my forefinger. We both smiled, and then she boarded the train to make her calculations.

  As we sat on the newly-formed couches, the door melded into the hull. The familiar blue wisps flooded the compartment. I had learned to dim them from my consciousness, if not completely, at least enough that they weren’t a distraction. Once we were under way, I struck up a conversation.

  “Did they finish the post-mortem on Jarnum?” I asked Mayford.

  “They did,” Mayford replied. “They found more questions than answers, though. Judging by his fingerprints and certain genetic indicators, we should have found an entry for him in our records. There were none.”

  “Perhaps he erased them,” Norio suggested.

  “He did show a great deal of technical proficiency,” Mayford acknowledged, “more than an outsider should know. More than most Dolinians would know for that matter. He also showed us that the vortex reactor is in fact vulnerable to somebody with a mastery of such technology. It would not surprise me if he also knew how to delete data from our systems.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “You would think somebody would remember his eyes, though. Hard to imagine a person like that being forgotten by everybody in the city.”

  “Maybe his eyes got burned or something,” Brady thought out loud, “after he left Dolina?”

  “No,” Mayford replied. “His eyes were like that naturally, from birth.”

  “That’s one more mystery we’ll never solve,” I shrugged. In my mind, there were more pressing questions about Jarnum than the color of his eyes. For one thing, he’d been as strong as a horse. I wondered if he might have been part T’Neth like me, but nothing in the autopsy prompted the coroners to suspect he was anything other than human. Was Jarnum a product of mutation? Scientists had long postulated about the effects of kitharan radiation on humans since the Founding. Misguided conventional wisdom thought that’s what happened to the T’Neth, but it didn’t explain some of the things Jarnum said, and it didn’t explain how he knew vortex technology better than the Dolinians. As far as they were concerned, he was an outsider. That was probably true, although I couldn’t imagine a place where he would have actually fit in. My instincts told me these loose ends should be investigated, but I also knew my instincts weren’t always accurate.

  “Redland told me what he knew,” Hathan-Fen added, filling the gap I’d created in the conversation. “It wasn’t much. Mainly, he knew that the T’Neth killed Jarnum’s family.”

  “That’s right,” I said, dismissing my concerns about Jarnum for the time being. I’d visited Redland during his recovery. I hadn’t expected a mea culpa on all his past transgressions - that wouldn’t be his style - but we did have something bordering a real conversation. That was due in no small part to the fact that I snuck a bottle of vodka into his hospital room. After we both had a few shots from a pair of plastic pill cups I snatched from the nurse’s station, he hid the bottle under his mattress and told me a few things about himself. He’d started off as a hazardminer with no ambition other than making a barrel full of money. Somewhere along the way, somebody convinced him that his inexhaustible belligerence was the primary quality they were looking for in a lawman. He took the badge and never looked back. He left out a lot of the details on his personal reasons for taking the job, but I got the impression they were painful memories. What the hell, I figured. Painful memories can make a person strong, too.

  “How is he doing?” Hathan-Fen asked.

  “Cranky,” I said, “but healing.”

  “He’ll be able to join us when he has sufficiently recuperated,” Mayford said.

  “Even from three broken vertebrae?” I said.

  “Of course,” Mayford said. “This isn’t the Dark Ages, you know. If Marshal Redland has any complications, they will be caused by shooing Doctor Ofsalle away. That man hovers during every procedure, and those two don’t get along.”
>
  “Does Redland get along with anybody?” Brady laughed.

  “Hmm, perhaps not,” Mayford replied. “Still, he surprised me. Marshal Redland learned that our physicians could regrow his left thumb, but he declined the offer.”

  “He doesn’t think he can scare people unless he has scars,” Hathan-Fen said.

  “That man doesn’t need scars to scare people,” Sergeant Brady pointed out.

  “I heard you didn’t let the doctors fix your scar either, Sergeant,” the major noted.

  “Ah, well,” Brady said, feeling the ridge that ran diagonally across his torso under his shirt. “This particular scar doesn’t interfere with my abilities, and it makes for a pretty good war story.”

  “Which you can’t tell anybody,” Hathan-Fen reminded him.

  That got a sour look from the sergeant. “I’ll just have to make up something equally heroic, then.”

  “What about Derrick?” I asked. Traore had been blinded by the liquid hydrogen, and the doctors hadn’t been optimistic during my last visit.

  “The T’Neth have offered to help in that regard,” Hathan-Fen replied. With a respectful nod toward Loro, she added, “They have advanced regenerative technologies that could help in his case.”

  “We have arrived,” Loro said.

  “I didn’t know we’d started moving,” Brady frowned.

  “You get used to it,” I said. Everybody else nodded in agreement.

  Seku created a doorway and stairs at the front of the cabin, another thing that seemed strangely mundane already. She, Loro, and Kate exited onto the platform first. Hathan-Fen held me back for a minute while the others got off.

  “Marshal,” she scolded, “you should take better care of your outfit.” She adjusted my duster, straightened the star on my chest, and looked me over. “That’ll have to do, I suppose.” She brushed a final bit of dust off my collar and nodded in satisfaction.

  “Uh…okay,” I said. “I never took you for the doting type, Major.”

  “I’m not, so don’t expect this ever again,” she replied with a bemused look. “Let’s go.”

  I followed Hathan-Fen out the door, suddenly very suspicious about what was going on. The station looked as I remembered it from my first visit, from the wood floors to the inlaid blue tiles. The tables stood in the center with the ancient T’Neth artifacts displayed prominently, while the multi-colored displays still adorned the walls.

  The only difference – and it was a big one – was the number of occupants at the station. Standing to one side were the humans that came with me on the train. Standing along the far wall was a line of nine T’Neth which included Loro, Kate, and Seku. They were each dressed in ornamental hooded robes. I realized that I was now looking at was my extended family. Xiv was not among them, but I figured we would meet again soon enough.

  On the right side of the station, reclining on hospital beds in their own little alcove, were Redland and Traore. Traore, though scarred and blindfolded, was smiling. That was good to see. Redland was also smiling, which made me just a little suspicious.

  Not being sure of the formalities in such a situation, I waved and said hello, which felt awkward in retrospect. I’m not a sociable person by nature, but I’m sure they all knew that by now.

  The T’Neth communicated their thoughts to me in perfect unison. They used no spoken words. This declaration was for me alone:

  A’lex Vonn, son of Richard Vonn and Jomsu Loro Gra’h Formidi, they announced. We welcome you to our Sanctum. You may consider this a place of refuge and safety for yourself and any guests you deem worthy. You are Marshal of the humans, rescuer of Dralta’Ir, and from this point forward…Ambassador to the T’Neth.

  I stared, dumbfounded. The T’Neth were their usual stoic selves, but all the humans were smiling broadly. Apparently, they had already been informed of my new title.

  “Great,” I deadpanned. “This probably means I’ll have to dress fancy and attend parties.” They all laughed politely, but then watched me expectantly. After a few moments to figure out why, I said, “I accept.” Everybody clapped and took turns shaking my hand, even the T’Neth, as they had a basic understanding of human customs. Personally, I thought the pomp of the moment was a bit overdone, but I played along. Hey, I had to start playing well with others at some point.

  Once we were done with the niceties, the T’Neth invited Kate and me to enter the Sanctum for a tour. I considered the offer, feeling my head spin just a bit. This wasn’t because of any T’Neth influence on my mind. I’d figured out how to keep my thoughts separate from theirs. No, this was the moment I realized how much had changed over such a short period of time. I’d reconciled with Redland, sort of. I’d accepted that Norio, Hathan-Fen and the others in the militia wanted the best for me, though they never compromised their mission when I objected through my own ignorance. I came to grips with my T’Neth heritage and appreciated my mother for the tough choices she had to make. I also learned that the T’Neth shared some of the same admirable potential that humans had. I’d gotten answers to questions that had plagued me since I was ten years old. My future as a marshal looked brighter, and maybe my future with Kate did, too. With all that had happened over the last few months, maybe I was the one that changed.

  “I’ll save the tour for later,” I said to everybody’s surprise. “Right now, I have something more important to do.”

  As easily as I could read the T’Neth, I was still a mystery to them. No one knew my thoughts except me, and I liked it that way. I knew we’d need their help to avert the coming war. Our two races could both be warlike and brutal. In the same respect, we were both resourceful and determined. Could we actually make peace? Mankind had certainly proved that keeping peace with itself was difficult enough. The times made it clear that we had little choice, however. This planet was dying. It would take a great deal of work to save the world, and there was limited time to act. That was all well and good, but all I could think about at that moment was my world. I pulled a small object out of my vest pocket and got down on one knee.

  “I still have it,” I told Kate, holding out the gold ring that had been with me for a whole year. “Will you have me?”

  She didn’t need to say the word. Her answer came through very clearly in her mind. She wanted to be sure I heard it one way or the other, so she said it out loud as well.

  “Yes!”

  “Well then,” I smiled. “I recall seeing a chapel in Dolina the other day. I don’t suppose the T’Neth have any particular customs when it comes to wedding ceremonies?”

  “I’m sure they would accommodate anything you have in mind,” Mayford said.

  The Sanctum can wait, my mother thought to me. You go ahead. Come back when you are ready.

  “Oh, I want you to come along, too,” I replied. “Why don’t we all go for a train ride?”

  So, Kate and I got married at a chapel in Dolina with everybody there to see it. We spent a little time alone together after that, just two days, but it was perfect. We watched sunrises and sunsets – well, simulated versions under Dolina’s vortex bubble. It all made me think of Earth, and how Arion was colonized to save the Solar System from its own dwindling resources. We were supposed to return to Earth hundreds of years ago, but Arion had other plans. The problems had always seemed insurmountable, but the challenges now seemed curiously small as Kate and I lay together in each other’s arms. Yes, everything seemed possible, I told myself.

  “Oh!” I blurted and sat bolt upright in our bed.

  What is it? Kate thought sleepily. Is something wrong?

  I didn’t answer right away; I had to gather my thoughts. I’d left some unfinished business back at the Sanctum and forgotten about it until just that moment. I had solved three of the puzzles but left the fourth one unfinished when things went sideways in Dolina. Now my thoughts swirled around that last display case and how it had seemed empty at the time.

  I looked at the ring on my finger and held it over the matching one
on Kate’s hand. I considered how Redland and I got along now, more or less. My mother and I had a relationship, despite our troubled beginnings. Major Hathan-Fen had gone back to Celestial City to report to Colonel Seneca that they could count on me for anything they needed, when just a few months earlier they would have balked at making any requests of me. Norio had begun sharing his collection of knowledge about the Founders with me, having decided to trust me with the truth, or at least his entire collection of facts.

  I thought about the fourth display case at the station, and realized it wasn’t empty after all. “Kate,” I said, laying down and wrapping my arms around her again. I ran my fingers down her back, feeling the mane of soft brown hair that grew along her spine. “I hear you.”

  “I know,” she said, her face scrunching up in confusion. “Has that changed?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “I understand everything about how the T’Neth communicate. It took me a while, but I get it now. I have one question: what do you call the fourth T’Neth language?”

  “I don’t know,” Kate answered, placing her hand upon my bare chest. “Not even Loro knows, though she believes it exists.”

  “It does exist,” I said, “this fourth language.”

  “Tell me,” she said, turning to look directly into my eyes.

  “Yes, but let me explain first,” I said. “Each display case holds a different test, but they reveal more than a language. They are abilities. They are talents.”

  “Yes,” Kate nodded, clearly wanting to skip the basics that she already knew.

  “They are all different abilities,” I said, “but they also share something in common: they unify the T’Neth.”