by C J Paget
“Since it hasn’t decked you, let me try.” Mast expected some type of fermented juice, but not the aromatic bouquet and feeling of icy numbness caressing his throat. He blinked, a flood of euphoria washing over him. In a flash, the colors of the fire were brighter, the music and singing louder, the stars in the night sky appeared to blaze like shattered crystals. “Wow, that was a rush,” he gasped. “I think we all better take it easy with this rotgut, Sanchez.”
“Man, if we could get this stuff to the Homeworlds I could retire on Syberus.” He took another long swig. “I tell you, Skipper, these people know how to party!”
Something was happening. Mast felt detached from the scene around the fire, a spectator at an old movie run too slowly. He watched Bovus and two girl companions get up and melt into the night. Manutea was standing close to Jayashree. Slowly, her hand reached out and closed over his. Beside him, Oriata knelt by Matahi, whispering. Someone shouted out a name. A flurry of sparks rose nightwards. All was fragments of a torn picture, scattered over the ground.
* * * * *
The next night there was another feast around the bonfire. There was singing and laughter and the basket of tevai made its rounds. Mast sat beside Oriata and dreamed, watching dancing flames rise into the night, vanishing like hours, days, weeks.
“So tell me, Bovus, when are you gonna choose between Heirani and Poehina?”
“I donno, Sanchez. Just can’t seem to decide if I like tall or short honeys better.”
“Why don’t you do what you’ve always done let the little head do the deciding for the big head.”
“You don’t have this problem, do you, Jayashree, huh? The only problem I see is you and your muscle-bound boyfriend keeping the whole village awake nights.”
“Yeah? Maybe I can ask him to use those muscles in teaching you a few manners.”
“Come on guys, lighten up! Look at this beach and that ocean. Man, you could make a million creds if you had a resort built here. Say, hand me another tevai gourd, will ya?”
“You must have killed two gourds already, Sanchez. Why don’t you wait until the party tonight?”
“Spacer, there’s a party every night. I’m really gonna hate it when the Lieutenant quits having us tramping through the bush and along beaches looking for the place where the villagers planted the happy crew of the Andromeda, and tells us to pack up and leave.”
“I think little Oriata has the hots for him. I’ll bet Matahi and most of the village knows where that boneyard is, but she told them not to blab. She knows he’ll be leaving when we find out.”
“I hope we never do. Say, I think I will have another tevai.”
* * * * *
The trail wandered through the jungle, branching off into smaller side paths. Mast had to pause at each, trying to remember if he had been down there before. The sun dappled the flower-hung branches of enormous ferns waving overhead. Strange birdlike creatures darted close to inspect him before disappearing back into the green walls on either side.
He slipped the gourd of tevai from his belt and took a long pull. Damn, he needed that. On impulse he started down a side trail, pushing vines and creepers from his path. The green tangle parted and he found himself looking out into a wide clearing.
He was there.
Row upon row of mounds basked in the sunlight, crude wooden headstones leaning drunkenly amid a mat of jungle creepers.
Swinging from each in the breeze was a tarnished medallion.
“Thomas Bent, Astogater, Survey Ship Andromeda. Carlos Spinado, Machinist, Survey Ship Andromeda.” Mast moved down the rows of mounds, checking the names.
“Looks like they’re all here,” he murmured. “End of my mission.” Smiling, he reached for his gourd of tevai. But then he noticed a second row of mounds, then a third, obviously older, more overgrown by jungle. The barely readable names on the medallions were from ships he recalled having vanished the past century. They had come here, like the crew of the Andromeda. And they had stayed.
Mast felt suddenly cold, standing in the quiet clearing. He looked at the gourd in his hand, the craving for a drink gnawing at him. Deliberately he turned the gourd upside down, spilling the contents on the ground. He pulled the medkit from his belt, fumbling for the universal detox syringe. In almost a trancelike state he broke the seal and jammed the needle deep into his arm.
Darkness.
“Lieutenant Mast?”
A voice echoing down some distant hallway. He fought back a surge of nausea, opened his eyes. Sanchez was bending over him, holding a jug of water to his lips. He drank deeply, coughed.
“Thanks, Sanchez. I could use another gallon.”
“You look like garbage, Skipper. Maybe you should lie back down.”
He gazed around him at the hut. Things were slowly coming into focus. “How long have I been back?”
“You didn’t show up at noon so Oriata sent a couple of Matahi’s boys to look for you. Found you wandering the jungle, puking your guts out.”
Mast took a deep breath and sat up on the rug. “Go find Jayashree and Bovus. I want to see everyone in this hut right now.”
“Okay, Skipper, on my way.”
There was discarded clothing and gear littering the floor, empty tevai gourds in every corner. The place looked like a college dorm after a beer bash. Mast got shakily to his feet and went to his weapons belt hanging on a wall. He pulled out his timeband.
“Fourteen weeks, five days. We’ve been here for almost three months,” he muttered. “What in hell have we been doing all that time?”
The grass door swished open admitting Bovus and Jayashree, followed by Sanchez. Silently, they lined up against the hut wall. Mast returned their stares, sensing wariness and a latent hostility.
“Well, people,” he announced. “I’ve got good news and bad news for you. The bad news is this.” He held up a gourd. “I don’t know what’s in this tavai crap but it’s addictive as hell and a serious bad trip for the thing between your ears. No more drinking it from here on and start using your detox kits to get rid of the effects.”
Sanchez frowned. “So what’s the good news, sir?”
“I finally found where they buried the crew of the Andromeda. By a rough count it looks like all of them, plus the one in the wreck. I’ll get a record of whatever descendants they left from Matahi tonight. Let’s get our gear packed up and plan on leaving for the Tantalus IV at first light.”
The sullen mood in the hut deepened. Bovus glanced at Jayashree, then back to Mast. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lieutenant. Maybe we need to hang around a little longer, enjoy some shore leave.”
“Let me spell it out for you, Corporal: the party is over. I want you to get your gear, yourself squared away, and your girlfriends kissed goodbye.”
Bovus hooked thumbs into his belt, rocking back on his heels. “I guess I better spell it out for you, Lieutenant. We all like it here and we ain’t gonna leave.”
“Is that a fact? How do the rest of you feel?” He looked from Jayashree to Sanchez. They nodded dumbly.
“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. I’ll take the shuttle back to the ship and head back to base. In a couple of weeks a squad of MPs will be coming down to haul your butts back for a court martial. Anybody here knows what the stockade on Satellite is like?”
They continued to regard him in silence. It was if they knew and expected what he was going to say and were patiently waiting for him to finish so they could go back to their friends and parties about the campfire.
“Well, that’s that.” Bovus shrugged and headed for the door. “We’ll see you around, Lieutenant. Let’s go, guys. We got us a party to get ready for tonight.”
And he was alone.
* * * * *
Oriata came into the hut and walked up to him. Her face shone with tears.
“You are leaving, returning to the stars.” It was more of a statement than a question. She already knew.
“Yes.” That was all h
e could say. He gathered his gear and went out into the noon sunbake. Matahi and his people watched him walk through the village in silence. This time there was no laughter or smiles. His crew was nowhere to be seen.
The shuttle stood on the beach where it had landed many weeks and a lifetime ago. Mast went along the corridor to the main cabin and settled himself into the command chair. For a long moment he gazed through the viewport at the ocean, lost in thought.
He had, after all, fulfilled his mission, found the crew of the Andromeda. As for his mutinous crew, that was their problem. He wasn’t planning on crying his eyes out when Central Command sent a team back here to drag them off to their richly deserved court martial They were losers anyway or they wouldn’t have been sent-
There was a whisper of footsteps behind him. He turned to see Jayashree standing in the corridor. She was pointing a force pistol at his chest. The air seemed to thicken.
“Sergeant, I think you need to back up and consider what you’re doing.” His heart pounded in his ears.
“I know exactly what I’m doing, Lieutenant.”
Mast stared at the barrel of the weapon, swallowed hard.
“It’s that tevai crap. You need to find your medkit and detox, get it out of your system. Then you can think straight.”
“I stopped drinking Tevai and used the detox kit weeks ago.”
It was true, he realized. Mast thought back to their nights about the fire, all singing and holding gourds of tevai. Except Jayashree. Strange he hadn’t noticed until now.
“Why did you stop?” he asked.
“Because I’m pregnant. All my life I’ve been a soldier. Never before had anyone held my hand and told me I was beautiful. I never thought I could be a mother and win the love of a man.”
“Well, that’s great news, but—”
“I’m really sorry it had to come to this, Lieutenant.” Her eyes glittered like obsidian. From the gloom of the cabin Bovus and Sanchez emerged to stand, staring at him.
A dull click came from Jayashree’s force pistol. Frantically, she pressed the trigger again and again.
“I think you might be missing these.” Mast held out a handful of silver discs. “I removed the charge clips from the weapons left in our hut before I left.”
Jayashree dropped the weapon to the deck. “You cannot do this. Manutea is waiting outside for me.”
“Oriata was sharing a little tidbit of tribal culture with me awhile ago. Village women don’t marry village men until they make them pregnant. Ever wonder why a hunk like him hasn’t been snapped up? He’s sterile.” Mast smiled. “Do you remember when I escorted you to your quarters on the Tantalus IV and you invited me inside? Manutea’s not the father of your child but it’s a good chance I am.”
Mast pulled a force pistol from his belt and rose to face them. “And now, since my happy crew is back from R&R, I think it’s time to fire up the shuttle and head back to the Tantalus IV.”
THE MORE THINGS CHANGE
by Daniel Latham
When the galaxy was young, BD 2132 was the proud parent of a dozen planets. They basked in the sun’s energy and fashioned geologic wonders; ice volcanoes refracted thousand-kilometer rainbows, sulfur seas grew blankets of enormous, intricate crystals.
At about the time that one of the crystals formed a thought and was about to ask the crystal next to it if the weather was a bit warm for this time of year, BD 2132 went supernova and the planets were vaporized.
* * * * *
BD 2132 spent eons in neutron slumber with no company until the Committee popped into place.
Insecare, the Chairwoman, coughed for attention (a superfluous gesture as none of them had corporeal bodies) and launched into her speech.
Ixthys bobbed up and down, vibrating with excitement.
Hummus, as usual, sat perfectly still. It was descended from a species of self-aware fungi. Hummus rarely said or did anything, but was a really good listener.
“…go forth and search, explore, expand the boundaries of our knowledge. Discover new races, species, entities, intelligences with which to communicate, converse, trade, and exchange.”
Non, the final member of the Committee, had trouble concentrating. He was eager to get going.
“…in all its myriad, wondrous, remarkable forms. And now, for the moment we have been waiting for,” continued Insecare, “I present to you the Edge of the Universe! Oh bother, it’s expanded again. Wait…wait…there it is. Follow me, everyone.”
She led them in a parade across space until they caught up with it.
“Hurry, before it moves again,” Ixthys said.
They bent their intentions to force open a window. In the absolute black of the void, a small circle appeared, glowing as the energy of two universes blended together.
“Go, Non, now!” Insecare ordered. “Don’t forget to take good notes!”
Non shot through the window. He turned back to wave farewell. Instead of seeing the others waving, Non saw the destruction of his home. Insecare, Ixthys, and Hummus lost their energy and dissipated. Lights throughout the universe flared and extinguished. The heat of a trillion furnaces cooled, and the universe caved in on itself and vanished.
The window slammed shut behind him and he entered the other universe. The bizarre vision disoriented him. He looked for a solid body on which to alight and collect himself.
There was a star nearby, orbited by a solid body with promising chemical processes. Non landed and made an intention to form a physical shell. He chose a model to blend with the dominant life forms, a reptilian quadruped.
Life was idyllic. Non ambled about in the sunshine studying the world and its denizens. The serenity was occasionally punctuated by the thrill of running from a predator.
One evening, Non saw a new star in the sky.
Next evening, it was brighter.
On the third day, it shone in the daytime.
Non tried to tell the reptiles they should move to higher ground, but they tried to either mate with him or eat him. He climbed a mountain by himself to observe the results.
When the comet impacted the atmosphere, the sonic wave knocked him down and shattered his eardrums. Non shrieked in pain and abandoned his physical body to escape the agony.
A plume of smoke, fire, and dust reached up through the atmosphere into space. The boiling black cloud spread across the sky, blotting out the sun. The land was stuck in perpetual twilight.
Temperatures plummeted. Most of the reptiles that hadn’t died from the comet’s impact froze or starved to death.
The suffering astonished Non. In his time on the planet, he’d seen predators kill prey, and the injured and sick creatures succumb to lingering deaths. Now, he watched entire populations die in confusion, fear, and cold.
* * * * *
Time passed. The sky cleared.
Not all the animals were gone. Smaller, more agile creatures survived. Some grew fur to protect them from the cold. Others developed innovative means of finding shelter.
One of the furry ones sat on a log, waiting for insects to emerge from a hole.
As one came out, it squashed the insect and stuck it in its mouth.
Non made an intention to look like the furry creature. He plopped down next to it.
“You know, it would be more effective it you took a twig and stuck it in the hole.”
Non demonstrated. He stuck one end of a twig into the hole. When he pulled it out, several insects clung to the twig.
Non handed it to the creature who gobbled the insects.
“Now you try it.”
The creature howled and hit Non over the head with the twig. Then it wrapped its arms around itself and rocked back and forth, laughing.
Non left the creature to practice.
He became an aquatic creature and spent several generations trying to convince one specimen to use their appendages to manipulate tools. He warned them their appendages would mutate into flippers if they weren’t careful.
&nbs
p; The creatures ignored him, concentrating instead on their low, mournful songs that filled the ocean.
Back on land, Non was impressed with the furry creatures’ progress. They found all sorts of uses for sticks; digging holes, prying rocks off neighbors when caves collapsed, starting fires, but mostly they liked to hit each other over the head.
One day, they discovered how to sharpen sticks.
“Don’t run with those,” Non warned them.
But they didn’t listen and several lost their eyesight.
Yet they grew and pushed aside other furry species that had not learned how to sharpen sticks.
They planted crops and made clothing. They built their own shelters. They had time on their hands.
That was when things got out of hand.
* * * * *
Non manifested the form and dress common to the furry creatures and walked into a village where a new dwelling was under construction.
A plot of land had been cleared and the corner block was about to be lowered into place. Villagers gathered around a creature wearing rich-looking clothing and jewelry and holding an infant in its arms.
The creature held the baby up to the sky then threw it into the hole. It screamed until workers lowered the block on top of it.
Non was stunned. “What are you doing?”
“We are sacrificing our first-born to Bilgar, who protects us from earthquakes.”
“Who is Bilgar?”
“The great god Bilgar reveals himself to the faithful,” the creature in jewelry answered solemnly. “If you are ignorant of the gods, you should acquire an idol and practice worshipping lest you become a sacrifice.”
Non went into the village and found the idol shop. Shelves of clay figurines in every color and configuration lined its shelves.
Non picked up an idol and asked the shopkeeper what it was.
“That’s Galex, goddess of fertility.”
Galex had a female torso with generous mammalian proportions and the bottom half of a reptile.
