Beyond Those Distant Stars

by John B. Rosenman

  She pulled her thoughts back to the circulator as it coasted around the base's circumference. Gage rocked lightly on her heels, arms locked behind her in a gesture Stella could already see was characteristic. She looked like a monarch surveying her dominions, and Stella half-expected her to whip out her red whistle again and blow it in celebration.

  In contrast, Colonel Powers and Major Lovejoy stood rigid, trying not to look as if they were watching her. Both had nodded when they'd met and spoken brief greetings. Lovejoy's had been particularly curt.

  The circulator stopped. Leaving it, they crossed another docking bay which Stella estimated was located about one-hundred-eighty degrees from their starting point, on the other side of the base. She paused outside a hatch just behind the Spaceranger's bow, where two guards were posted.

  “I'll make it quick.”

  “Please do,” Gage said. “A welcome gauntlet is scheduled along the main concourse. Half the base is waiting there to greet you as you pass them on the way to your quarters.” Her eyes swung to Powers and Lovejoy. “It's a tradition here at Loran Base, a rare honor we accord heroes. And you, Commander, are our greatest yet.”

  Stella nodded, aware of the subtext of Gage's remarks, which were addressed as much to her officers as to her. “Be right back,” she said, and entered the Spaceranger.

  Moving up the port-side corridor to the bow, she listened eagerly for Jason's greeting. Had he missed her as much as she had him? She blinked in surprise when she saw Dr. Wynn heading her way in the dim light. The beautiful, auburn-haired woman wore a white lab coat and Stella remembered the cryogenecist's absorption in Jason as they peered together into his tank. As they drew nearer to each other, she felt her face flame in embarrassment, though she knew it was her imagination.

  What was Wynn doing coming from the bow? Evidently, she was one of the personnel Gage had permitted to remain onboard, but shouldn't she be in the cryotank ward, looking after Jason?

  When they reached each other, they paused, and then moved together in almost conspiratorial silence.

  “How is he?” Stella whispered, wondering if Jason was observing them now in this darkened, minor corridor. But then, he couldn't notice everything, could he?

  “He's fine,” Wynn said. “I just thought I'd...” She let the sentence lapse.

  Stella reached out and touched her shoulder. As on their first meeting, she was painfully aware of the other woman's greater attractiveness and desirability. “How is he doing?” she whispered. “Do you think he'll get bored now that we've docked?”

  The cryogenecist's breath fanned Stella's face, and she found herself wishing she could breathe again, fill her lungs with sweet air.

  “Not at all. He works equations and we play tri-chess together. That and talk.”

  “Talk?”

  “Yes.” A quick breath, a pleased smile. “In a few weeks we'll change pilots, won't we, Commander? Then we can return his brain to his body.”

  “Perhaps.” Stella forced down a keen surge of envy and pulled back. “Well, you'd better carry on,” she said.

  Watching Dr. Wynn leave, she cursed her own weakness. What was she doing here, keeping the base's commanding officer waiting while she pursued a schoolgirl's infatuation? And that's all it was. Despite George's affection for her, she was still a warped, distorted thing, a fool pursuing a younger man she barely knew. What did she really know of him? She had never touched him or been touched in return, had never seen him smile or his eyes light up at her presence. It was all a puerile fantasy, and she was stupid, immature, irresponsible! She sat on the crucial cusp of great events, and her duty was to devote every effort to helping Gage use what she'd learned to defeat the enemy, not indulge in personal obsessions.

  Silently, Stella leaned against the wall. In her chest her heart beat calmly, as it would for three hundred years.

  What the hell, she thought. I'm only human. I think.

  She straightened and entered the bow, hoping no guards were posted there. Where was Jason? Why hadn't he spoken? Perhaps he was absorbed in a tri-chess problem. She glanced around, tense with dread and excitement. Maybe he didn't care any longer, had chosen Dr. Wynn. She told herself she was being irrational, but couldn't help herself. Then she remembered that Gage had ordered certain systems neutralized as a safety measure. That must be why Jason hadn't contacted her.

  “Hello, Stella.”

  When she heard his voice, nothing else mattered. Not Gage, not Powers, not Lovejoy and his loveless face. Even the All-Mother faded to a distant dream.

  “Hello, Jason,” she said. “I thought you'd speak up before this.” It seemed so long since she had heard his voice.

  “I thought I'd wait till we were alone.” The purple command chair reclined. Unsurprised, she moved to occupy it, accepting the gesture as an unspoken understanding between them. Leaning back against the cushion, she felt his excited words wash over her.

  “Thank God you're all right! After I docked I didn't know what happened to you.”

  She felt her eyes moisten. “I'm fine, Jason.”

  “And you've done such great things! Jumped the Slug ship down Charybdis, learned how to pilot it.”

  “I could have done without hitting the guard ship, though.”

  “An accident! A terrible, one-in-a-billion accident! Luckily, it turned out all right.” Pause. “It did turn out all right, didn't it, Stella? They've stripped most of our crew and posted guards inside and out. I count sixty-three at seventeen different stations. Is everything—”

  “Everything's fine. At least I hope it is,” she qualified after a moment. “Some of the high muckamucks are unsure of me, and not just because the Emperor's due to arrive.”

  “The Emperor?” Jason said. “He's coming to this base?”

  “Yes, quite soon, according to Gage.”

  Jason digested the news. “That's amazing. The Emperor coming here. And you said they're unsure of you. What do you mean?”

  “I'm unsure,” she said, playing on the word. “But let's not talk about it now.” She closed her eyes, liking it best that way. With her eyes shut, she could imagine him lying on the chair beside her, though there wasn't room. “I can only stay a minute,” she said. “I've got some important people waiting.”

  “So I see. The short woman who looks like a bulldog. That's Gage, isn't it?”

  She giggled, amazed at the sound. “She does not look like a bulldog.”

  “Well, then, like Uxman's pyota goat, the one that almost chewed his foot off.”

  Stella tried not to laugh but failed. Jason joined her in high, almost childish tones. Thinking of the fierce pets her security officer kept, she fought against admitting that Gage resembled them. The comparison seemed so unflattering.

  When their laughter died away, the quality of Jason's voice changed. “I notice you went aboard the Slug's ship with Thunderheart.”

  “Yes.”

  “Was there any particular reason?”

  “I don't know. Is there any particular reason Dr. Wynn plays tri-chess with you?”

  As soon as she said it, she hated herself. “I'm sorry,” she said, “I guess I'm just jealous.”

  “Maybe I am too.” Jason's voice was hurt and sullen now, sounding different than she'd ever heard it. “I told you before she means nothing to me.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  Jason's voice cracked, the computer that translated his brain waves into spoken words achieving novel effects. “There's something I never told you,” he said. “I've never mentioned it before to anyone.”

  She waited. “What is it, Jason?” she finally said.

  “It...” He stopped, and then started again. “It happened when I was twelve. My father died shortly after I was born, and for as long as I could remember, there had been only my mother and I. Now and then a man would be interested in my mother, who was a beautiful, graceful woman. She never showed any interest in return, and he'd move on. It was as if she kept my father alive for both of us,
as if we were all we needed.”

  His voice stopped, and Stella listened to the near-silence of the bridge.

  “Then one day a man came,” Jason continued. “He had red hair and a fiery beard and charm that swept my mother right away. Overnight, it seemed, it was no longer just the two of us. Before, we had been together, played together, laughed together. Now, he was there between us, always thrusting his voice and body where they didn't belong. When we were alone, my mother would laugh and kiss me and say it wasn't serious, that it was still just the two of us. I wanted to believe her, wanted to so much. Then one night...”

  He broke off. Stella rubbed the chair's arm back and forth, back and forth. “Yes?” she finally said.

  “One night...” Jason faltered, and then plunged hoarsely on. “It was a tape on astronavigation she'd bought me shortly before for my birthday. I wanted to show her something on it. I forget what it was-something to do with pilots, neurological implants, which I was interested in even then. Mother's door was ajar, and I was so eager, I just rushed right in.”

  Silence. “What did you find, Jason?” Stella asked softly.

  “First there was only the smell of perfume, the soft, exotic kind my mother always wore. And there was moonlight, a gleaming shaft of it right across her room, silvery-blue like Tuax that time of year. Then I heard jangling, the musical sound of the bracelets and hoop earrings she liked to wear, and turned. They ... they were there together on the silk sheets, and she was moaning beneath him. Her eyes were closed, her nails gripped his back, and the smell of jasmine perfume was everywhere. Her room rang with the sound of her bracelets and earrings. I can still hear them! They sounded like wind chimes.”

  Again, silence. Stella trembled, and then parted her lips. “What happened then, Jason?”

  No response. For several heartbeats, she thought he wouldn't answer. She asked again.

  “I ran,” Jason said. “But they were so lost in each other, I don't think they even knew I was there. Not that it would have mattered, of course, since from then on, my mother never really saw me again. The one time I told her how I felt, she just laughed at me. Laughed! Then she called me a little boy who needed to grow up.”

  He hesitated. “It was always him, you see, his feelings that mattered, and always just the two of them. Suddenly I was a memory even less real than my father, a distant one she had little use for.”

  “I'm sorry,” Stella said.

  “I know it may sound like I was a selfish kid who wanted his mother all to himself, but I can still hear her laughing, and I still feel she deserted me. She was hardly there anymore, and she had no time for me at all. It was always him. A few weeks later, the hovercar they were riding in malfunctioned and leapt a cliff. My mother was killed instantly.”

  “Oh, Jason,” she cried. “How terrible.”

  “Since then,” Jason said, “since she died, I guess I've just used women. Or had them use me. In some way, I feel it's all had something to do with my mother, but I'm not sure how.” He hesitated. “Let me be honest, Stella. George was right in what he told you in sickbay. I must have had a thousand women. I've never enjoyed them, not really. And I've lied and cheated most of them, even said some of the same things I've said to you. But I swear, Stella, I never cared for anyone until I met you.”

  She gripped the chair. “Jason, we've never met, never touched! It's just a fantasy.”

  “I don't care,” he said. “I know I love you, even more than George does.”

  She touched her face. “You can't. I'm a cyborg.”

  “Ah, but you've got the cutest little upturned nose. Did you know it's turned up, Stella?”

  Her laughter erupted again, along with hope. “It's synthetic,” she protested, glad that he sounded happier and had turned from his past back to her. “They grew my whole face in a vat. It's a complex polymer of some kind.”

  “Well, it's still cute. Stella, when we finally meet in the flesh, or whatever you want to call it, I'll show you that I don't care two overcooked beans what you're made of or what's real. It's you I care about.”

  She smiled, eyes closed, and reached up as if to embrace him. “Would you mind saying that to me once more?” she said.

  * * * *

  Leaving the Spaceranger ten minutes later, she felt restored, buoyant and washed clean. It had felt so damned good to laugh.

  Gage was right where she'd left her, as were Powers and Lovejoy. Their stone faces exuded all the warmth of obelisks.

  “Well,” Gage said, “should I inform the waiting multitudes that we're on our way?” Stella saw that the general held a comlink instead of a red whistle in her hand.

  “Not yet,” Stella said.

  “Oh?”

  “No, there's something else I have to do first.”

  Powers and Lovejoy cocked their heads like bird dogs. “What is it?” Gage said.

  Stella squeezed her fists. Something was growing in her, had been growing all along. She told them.

  “No,” Gage said. “I can't let you do that.”

  She smiled. “Yes, General, I think you can.”

  * * * *

  The guards at the door saluted smartly when they approached. “General Gage!” one said.

  Stella saw Gage thrust a hand into her pocket, obviously displeased with their destination. “Admit us, soldier.”

  “At once, Commander.”

  The guards moved to open the door, which bore two locks instead of one. They weren't palm locks either, but old-fashioned key locks she'd considered obsolete. Each guard had a key to only one of the locks, so it took two to open the door.

  Isle of the damned, Stella thought, remembering a phrase from some vid. She glanced about the silent corridor they stood in, wondering how many people were confined here.

  The door swung open. Gage and the others waited. After a moment, she entered first.

  Inside, a slender woman rose quickly from a couch in alarm, her face red and swollen from crying. A little boy of about three remained sitting.

  The woman's fingers worried each other, picked at her dress.

  Stella smiled. “Tessa Farron?”

  “Yes.”

  “I'm Stella McMasters.”

  Snuffling, the woman blotted her eyes, then took the boy's hand and pulled him to her.

  “I'm sorry. I don't know who you are.”

  “I was piloting the enemy ship when your husband approached with his squadron,” she said gently. She hesitated, seeing Orian's firedart in her sights again, and felt profoundly grateful it hadn't been she who had taken his life. How must Lee feel after killing the entire crew of a guard ship and strewing their bodies in space like garbage? She wet her lips. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was that he died and express my deepest sympathy.”

  It was a lot for the woman to digest. As someone gasped behind Stella, Orian's wife clasped her heart. “You flew the ship Jack attacked? And you feel sympathy for me?” She shook her head, clutching the little boy who clung to her side. “How can you feel that? My husband is a traitor!”

  Stella took a step forward. “But you aren't.”

  “No, I'm guilty too. I knew how Jack felt. It kept eating at him, what the Scaleys did to his parents. He couldn't sleep, had terrible nightmares. Today, when he heard about his brother getting killed, it must have been too much for him.”

  Behind Stella, Lovejoy-she could tell it was he-made a sound of disgust. Stella took another step forward.

  “But you never suspected he was capable of such a thing, did you?” Stella said.

  “No! But I should have informed Colonel Powers.” She motioned meekly at the base's security officer.

  “Yes, you should have,” Lovejoy said. “It was treason not to.”

  Stella studied him, and then turned back. “Tessa,” she said, “General Gage informs me there's a reception waiting for me.”

  Tessa wiped her eyes. “Yes, we do it for honored dignitaries. Most of the base should be there.”

&nbs
p; “So I've heard.” Stella glanced at the little boy, who had delicate features. “General Gage didn't tell me what your son's name is.”

  “It's Ulysses.”

  Ulysses. Fabulous voyager. Probably named after General Loran himself. “Well, Tessa, would you and your son like to accompany me and these comrades when we meet them? I'd be honored.”

  “Bloody damned Scaley!” Major Lovejoy said. “Why in hell would you want to take them?”

  Good question. Why was she doing it? Was it the accident in the turbine building that made her sympathize and stand up for the despised and downtrodden, or her essential nature? She wanted to believe it was the latter but couldn't be sure.

  “Why do I want to take them?” she said. “I'll tell you why.” In two strides Stella stood before Lovejoy, her face hard as she fought the desire to break his neck as she'd broken Sloan's to save his family from precisely this. “I want them because we've got to stop fighting and hurting each other. If you must have scapegoats, make them the enemy, not grief-stricken women and children.”

  Lovejoy stabbed his finger at Orian's widow. “You heard her. She knew Orian was unstable. It was her duty to inform Colonel Powers.”

  “It's so easy for you to know what's right, isn't it?” Stella snapped. “You're like a stiff reed that will break in the river before it bends, Major.” She drew herself up. “Maybe I can't prevent you and others from continuing such stupid persecution, but I can refuse to accept it. For me it stops, right here and right now.”

  Lovejoy sneered. “Spoken like a freak grown in a lab vat. You're not even human!”

  “Major,” Gage said, “that's enough! You will apologize!”

  Stella raised a hand. “Quite all right, General. Let him say what he thinks. It's about time we allowed a little honesty.” She nodded. “Go ahead, Major, let me have it.”

  Lovejoy's lips slid back from his teeth. “I already have. After you rest, I want to personally take part in your interrogation.” He looked at Gage. “That is, ser, if I have your permission.”

  Gage stared at him for three seconds. “Request granted, Major, but only if you remember it's a debriefing, not an interrogation.” She looked at Stella. “Commander McMasters has a point. Tessa Farron's not the enemy. The Slugs are.”