2017 Young Explorer's Adventure Guide

by Maggie Allen

  When Blue finished the section Pop had told him to pick, he hauled his apples to the barn and plugged himself in for a recharge. Pop and I walked back to the house and the phone rang.

  When Pop came out, the landscape of his face was more furrowed than usual. He said, "It was Anthony."

  To anyone else, it might have looked like he was talking to himself, but I knew he was speaking to me.

  "He wants me to go to his place for Thanksgiving. Says Isabel and the kids are looking forward to seeing me."

  I knew Anthony was Pop's pup—the doctor. I also knew Pop wasn't going anywhere. He never did. Every year when Thanksgiving came around, he'd buy himself a big turkey, stay home, and spend more time at his wife's grave than usual.

  That was okay with me. I always got to eat bird for a week after.

  We sat on the porch until Blue marched over. He just stood there, not doing anything, just waiting. He got on my nerves, and I guess it bothered Pop, too.

  "Darn it, Blue, I can't relax with you standing there like a statue," said Pop. "Go get your spool from the orchard and bring it here so you can sit with us."

  Blue did as he was told, and soon the three of us were sitting there, watching the day go by.

  "I wish I knew where you came from, Blue, and what your real name was. But I guess Blue's as good as any other. I named Terra for her color, too. She's not only the color of dirt—earth, as it were—but she's as fertile as mother nature herself. Seeing as how she was genetically-engineered for smarts, I got a good price for each of her pups."

  Pop selling my pups had been a sore point between us for a while. I couldn't get over the fact they were my pups—ones I'd carried and given birth to. I had this feeling I was supposed to take care of them. But after a while I realized it was the right thing to do. I can't imagine what this place would have been like with 20 more canines running around. No, I liked it fine with just Pop and me...and now Blue. At least I don't have to fight him for dinner at the bowl.

  I looked forward to my work in the orchard. I preferred my new tasks to those I was originally trained for. They were more...tranquil.

  Some days there was not much to do but watch the flying creatures Pop called birds and wait for the sun to set. I favored that part of the day.

  Pop was always talking about the colors of the sunset—about how he named me and Terra for our colors—but I could not see colors. What I perceived were shades and striations, shapes and patterns. I found the variations intriguing

  I finished my tasks and went looking for Pop as I did every day. I found him a short distance from his house, standing next to a plot of land surrounded with low fencing. At one end of the plot were two pieces of wood—one imbedded in the dirt, the other intersecting the first. Pop was staring at the ground.

  I walked up next to him and waited. He did not appear to notice me.

  "My wife's buried here, Blue," he said without looking up. "Her name was Grace. We were together for 43 years. That's a long time, but she was a good woman—a good wife. Sometimes I don't know what I'll do without her."

  Many of the words Pop used were not part of my vocabulary, though I had added to my verbal recognition database during my time on the farm. I did not know the definition of "wife," but I understood someone Pop had known for a long time was in the ground. I did not understand why he stood there, looking at the ground, but I was certain he must have a good reason.

  "Blue, why don't you go feed the sheep?" Pop's voice sounded strange. He seemed to struggle to get the words out. Moisture seeped from his eyes. "I'll be along shortly."

  As always, I did as instructed.

  It was a hot and dusty day, and Pop and I had just finished putting the last of the sheep into the corral when he suddenly dropped to the ground. He didn't make a sound. He just collapsed.

  I ran over, sniffed him, pawed him—but he didn't move at all. I couldn't hear his heart. I couldn't even hear him breathing. He looked like he was asleep, and though I knew that couldn't be, I started barking at him to see if I could snap him out of it.

  Pop didn't budge. I was starting to get real worried. I kept barking until Blue showed up. He saw Pop and knelt down to take a closer look. He touched him with his huge metal paw, but Pop didn't respond. I made some more noise to reinforce how serious this was, yet Blue just sat there.

  When I thought he wouldn't do anything, Blue pulled out his power cord, plugged it into his chest, and ripped open Pop's shirt. He started searching for something—I guess he thought Pop had a socket like him. When he couldn't find it, he broke off the end of the plug, stuck the bare wires on Pop's chest, and flipped the switch next to his own outlet. I guessed he was trying to recharge him.

  Pop's body jerked like he'd had a bad dream, and Blue pulled the cord away.

  I heard Pop's heart begin beating again. He started to breathe. He moved and opened his eyes.

  I barked a couple of times to make certain he'd stay awake.

  "What happened?" Pop sat up and looked around. He fingered his torn shirt and said, "I must have fallen against the fence, eh? Help me up, Blue."

  Blue helped Pop to his feet, and I moved in for a good sniff. He smelled the same. I was glad he was okay, but it worried me. I didn't know what I would do without Pop.

  One day, after all the ripe apples had been picked and boxed, I followed Pop to the barn. He said he wanted to teach me to shear the sheep. I did not know what that entailed, but I found learning something new gave me a fulfilling sense of accomplishment. If Pop wanted me to learn, I would. He was an agreeable handler. Less coarse than Carter had been. Working with Pop was...pleasant.

  I had also become accustomed to Terra. She apparently had become accustomed to me, as well. I did not understand her language, but we shared a deference to Pop. I had worked with allies before, in dual matches in the arena. I accepted Terra as an ally.

  She was not the only strange creature I encountered. One day, while picking apples, a tiny thing landed on my arm. It was a life form with wings. Its rear segment was striped much like a foe I had once defeated in the arena named Stinger.

  I ceased working to study it. The creature inspected my outer surface, then flicked its wings until it became airborne. The flurry of its wings made a barely perceptible sound, fluttering some 230 times per second before it flew away. Returning to my work, I speculated as to its purpose and destination.

  Thanksgiving came and went, and I had my fill of turkey. The Honeycrisps had ripened, and Blue got them all picked and boxed up. I had to admit the metal monster had turned out to be a good worker and a blessing for Pop, who was moving slower these days.

  Pop's pup showed up on Christmas and took him away, but he came back the next day, much to my relief. Life was good. I even let the mongrel get up on me one night, though he was as awkward as a three-legged cat.

  Everything was fine until one night, I was sleeping next to Blue on the porch when I heard something. I don't see well at night, but there was a full moon and I smelled something, or rather someone. Several someones, as it turned out.

  I jumped off the porch and ran towards the orchard. I stopped as soon as I saw them. There were four of them. Young people, big pups, and they were pulling unripe Fujis off the trees and throwing them helter-skelter. Naturally I started barking. Looking back, it was probably the wrong thing to do, but it was my nature.

  Instead of running off, they started throwing apples at me. I retreated, still barking, when Pop came out of the house. He ran right past me towards those vandals. I couldn't let him face them alone, so I followed.

  "Get out of here, you! Stop it! Stop it! You're ruining those trees."

  "Shut up, old man," said one of them.

  "Go back to bed, you old raisin," said another, laughing.

  The other two flung apples at us. They missed Pop, but one hit me and I let out a yip.

  Pop made straight for laughing boy and grabbed his arm. He jerked his arm away and pushed Pop hard to the ground.

&nb
sp; I don't know where he came from, but all of a sudden Blue was standing right there. He grabbed laughing boy by the collar like he was picking an apple. He did it gently like, without bruising him, then tossed him across the orchard, smack into a tree trunk. The other three took off running.

  I hurried over to Pop to see if he was okay. He wasn't.

  It had been a long time since I had fought, but when Pop was attacked I reacted. I would not let anyone hurt Pop.

  It was over quickly. When I turned to help Pop up, he failed to move. I tried as I had done before, to revive him with my power core. He did not respond. Terra continued making her noise until I ceased my efforts. For a long time she kept smelling Pop.

  When the sun rose the next day, Pop still did not move. So I dug a hole next to where he had buried his wife. I put him in the hole and covered him as Terra watched. She did not react in any way I discerned. She simply lay there, her head resting on her paws. She did not move for a long time.

  I did not know what the crossed sticks meant, but I decided if Grace had them, so should Pop.

  I didn't know how long it would be before Pop's pup showed up, and I didn't know what would happen when he did. I almost didn't care anymore. Since Pop died, I didn't care about much. Even so, Blue and I continued to work the farm. I herded the sheep. He picked the apples and sheared the sheep. We'd cultivated a partnership, and our days proceeded as usual.

  I knew it wouldn't last, but what else could we do? I was certain the pup would sell the farm when he found out Pop was dead. What he'd do with Blue and me, I wasn't sure—but I was certain it wouldn't be anything good.

  I thought maybe Blue and I should hit road before he showed up. Just go our own way and see the world. Eventually I decided that's what we'd do. Just as soon as all the Fujis came in. We'd wait until we got them all picked and boxed up right—for Pop.

  Terror on Terra 5

  by Maggie Allen

  Maggie Allen started writing short fiction not long ago, but from her day job at NASA she has years of experience writing and podcasting about various nonfiction topics in astronomy and astrophysics. Maggie has short stories published in many Silence in the Library Publishing anthologies (including A Hero By Any Other Name, Time Traveled Tales, Athena's Daughters), as well as Dreaming Robot Press's 2016 Young Explorer's Adventure Guide. She co-edited the Athena's Daughters, Volume 2 anthology. Maggie is a guitarist and singer in the rock band, "Naked Singularity," which released its first album of original music in 2013. They are currently working on their second album. Her band's website may be found here: http://naked-singularity.com, and her writer website here: http://writermaggie.blogspot.com.

  When questioned about the incident, Bee would say it was the sheer human terror contained in the scream that compelled them to act.

  “But wasn’t a horrifying scream a good reason to stay in the Safe Zone?” the incident investigator asked. “You’re only students.”

  “You would have thought so,” she replied with a shrug that conveyed more bravado than she actually felt. “But here we are.”

  Bee sat beneath a tree, the warm sun shining through the purple leaves above her creating dappled patterns of light on her dark skin. Realizing her fingers were cramping, she reluctantly made a gesture, closing down the digital projection from the small, portable data pad sitting on her lap. She cracked her knuckles and looked up at the sky, trying to judge the time based on Alpha Pictorus’ position. After a couple of weeks on Terra 5, she had gotten pretty good at guesstimating it, despite the fact that Terra 5 didn’t have a twenty-four hour day like Earth did.

  Regardless of the time, her sore fingers and the crick in her neck told her it was time for a break. Unfortunately. Bee loved her work. She loved almost everything about this internship, where she was finally getting the chance to catalogue flora on a real extrasolar planet. It was the fauna she wasn’t so sure about. Mostly because it was still somewhat of a mystery.

  The first exploratory parties to come through the wormhole had landed here on Terra 5, the unimaginatively named fifth terrestrial planet out from Alpha Pictoris, a perfectly average star. Their first base, Freya Station, had been on the other side of the planet, resulting in that particular region and ecosystem being better explored than the newer Loki Station, which is where Bee was now. Initial readings of the planet had shown no sign of intelligent life, tech, or pollution—but humans had only been studying it for the nine years since that first landing. And nine years isn’t a lot of time to fully explore something as large as a planet.

  However, part of the mission of the Space Academy for Technical Arts and Sciences was to train the next generation of scientists and explorers, and with that training came an accepted level of inherent risk, even for teenagers. The protective equipment set up at Loki Station had been deemed adequate to ensure the safety of the science teams and now students, who were here to study this strange new world.

  The students in particular, while unescorted, were trusted to stay in the so-called Safe Zone. Bee had no complaints—there was plenty to learn about and to catalog within the Safe Zone’s generous parameters. Nor had she been here long enough yet to explore it all.

  She dumped her data pad onto the soft, pale purple grass beside her and stood up to stretch. You couldn't beat spring on Terra 5 when the weather was good. She turned her brown face up to Alpha Pictoris, enjoying its gentle warmth, and then ran her fingers through the Afro that bloomed around her face like a soft black halo. The purple-leaved trees above her tended to shed pale pink pollen when the breeze went through their small blossoms, making her feel like she constantly needed to dust off her head.

  But she didn’t care. This place was magic.

  And the best part, (as if anything could be better than getting to do nothing but study plants from another planet) was that she got to share this with her friends.

  Bee shoved her data pad into her jacket pocket and set off through the woods, towards the rugged, rock-ringed clearing Mike was excavating. If Bee Williamson loved plants, Mike Lopez loved rocks. She knew that when she found him, he'd be tapping away at a boulder, his sample bags and camera close by.

  Bee felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped.

  “Sorry, Iowa," a low voice said in her ear. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you."

  It was Alicia Callahan, another one of her best friends and a fellow SATAS student, using the nickname Bee had been given three years ago at Lunar Camp. She’d hated it then, but now it just reminded her of her home state on Earth, and also of the summer she’d become friends with Mike.

  "You’re actually taking a break?" Alicia's green eyes widened in mock surprise.

  "Forcing myself to take one. I needed dusting off anyway." Bee grinned and gently swiped at her friend's dark brown bangs.

  Alicia bent her head over and swished her long ponytail for a minute, before flipping it back. "That felt good—I think I needed to shake off the dust, too!"

  "How's your project coming?" Bee asked.

  "Good! I've almost got the old spectrometer working, and I made a few mods to it to give us readings for longer wavelengths..."

  Alicia was interrupted by a warning blast from the loud klaxon of the emergency weather siren.

  "Crap. Now I'm not going to get the chance to try it out this afternoon." Alicia sighed. "Why don't you drag Mike away from his rock sampling, and I'll stow my stuff and meet you at the south entrance of the station?”

  “Sounds good. How long do you think we have this time?” Bee looked up at the sky again. Alpha Pictorus was now obscured by some very benign-looking, wispy, pink clouds.

  "No idea.” Alicia shook her head, starting to warm up to one of her favorite subjects. “There’s so much variation between storms. The data set I downloaded showed that onset of forecast rain could be a couple of minutes to over an hour, but there’s no real pattern. We just don’t have the kind of weather satellites here that we have looking at the Earth, so there’s not much information to go by. All I
know is that it apparently gets weird when it rains, and exactly how is not well-studied."

  “Well, it can’t be too bad—the station’s still standing, right?”

  “That’s something better than nothing!” Alicia replied cheerfully. “And you know how early exploration anywhere goes; there are lots of things that can kill you besides the weather!”

  "Mike!" Bee stood in the center of the clearing and looked around. His bag of work tools and supplies lay in the clearing, abandoned. Where was he? Bee felt a twinge of alarm when a cold gust of wind ruffled her hair, signifying a definite turn in the weather.

  Bee roamed the perimeter of the clearing, calling her friend’s name.

  "Bee! Can you help me?"

  It was Mike! Bee ran towards the faint sound of his voice, which was coming from outside of the clearing, farther back in the woods. The trees here had thick, deep-blue foliage that blotted out the light from the sky, giving everything an eerie overcast. "Mike, are you okay?"

  "I'm stuck!"

  "Are you hurt?" She paused, waiting for his voice again so she could follow it.

  "I don't think so."

  Bee spotted a row of trees, blue branches draped with thick yellow and black-striped rope, clearly meant as a warning. If she had one guess as to where she was going to find Mike, it was on the other side of that rope. He had a knack for finding trouble. "Why didn't you message me?"

  "I couldn't reach my wristPAL." Mike's words floated up to her from somewhere beyond and below the tree line.

  "Why not?" She cautiously approached the trees and peered through. Ah, that was why. Mike was hanging below the edge of a sheer drop-off, clinging onto the root system of one of the trees. "Some Safe Zone this is turning out to be."