Wandering Star

by Steven Anderson

  “Good exercise, climbing up and down those cliffs several times a day,” I whispered to him.

  “Point eight gravity,” he replied.

  “In the snow.”

  “Theodore?” Angela called to get my attention. “The University has requested a presentation on your survey technology. Tomorrow morning. Do you have anything prepared?”

  “Star has all of my notes and documents. I have presentations prepared for anything from a high-level, non-technical audience to full details on the algorithms. Do you know who will be there?”

  “They didn’t provide an attendee list, but the briefing is set for one of the larger lecture halls in the geology building. You should be able to link to Star from there. Plan on starting at a high level but be ready to go as deep as they want. Dress nice.”

  “I always do.”

  “No, you usually dress like the only thing you need to do before going out into the field is to grab your rock hammer.”

  I looked down at myself. She may have a point. “I’ll dress nice.”

  “The bus to the university will be here at 0730. Please be in the lobby early. If there are no questions, we are done here. Enjoy your day off.”

  “Well, half a day anyway,” Jake grumbled. “Hannah, I am once again at your mercy. What shall we do with our day off?” Hannah looked at Jake and then at me.

  “Look, if you two want to…” I started.

  Hannah linked her left arm through mine, right arm though Jake’s. “No, you’d probably get lost in the snow.” Jake looked slightly disappointed.

  “So you’re going to keep me out of trouble?” I asked.

  Jake laughed. “Your job is to keep us out of trouble, remember?”

  Hannah pulled us out of the conference room into the hall before releasing our arms. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten. Dress warm, we have some walking to do.”

  When I arrived in the lobby most of the team was gathered in the adjoining pub, Their Finest Hour. Giz and Jenkins were absorbed in a game of chess next to the fire, the others chatting over drinks. I walked in, my heavy coat and boots seeming out of place in the warm glow from the flames and the soft lighting.

  “Going to walk about a bit?” Mahajan asked.

  “Sure. You all are just staying here?”

  Charlotte swirled her drink, the ice clinking against the sides of the glass. “It’s snowing out there. This is about all the ice I care to see this afternoon.”

  I smiled. “I think one of us must be crazy.” Jake and Hannah came up beside me.

  “Three,” she said, pointing at us, “three of you are crazy.”

  “You ready, Ted? It’s too hot in here with this coat on.” Jake pulled on my arm.

  I raised my hand in farewell to the room in general as I was tugged away. “Be seeing you.”

  “Be careful out there,” someone replied.

  “Why does everyone keep telling me to be careful?” I asked Jake, but then we were out the door with the snow and the cold air washing over me. It felt wonderful, and I laughed out loud. I could see by Jake’s silly grin that he was feeling it too. We walked away from the hotel and I had no idea where we were going. Maybe it was the lower gravity, or the effect of the open air after two months on board ship; I didn’t really care. I bumped Jake’s shoulder. “Race you to the corner.”

  Hannah never said a word or even looked up but she was gone, racing away from us. I took off after her with a shout of, “Hey!” I could hear Jake laughing somewhere behind us, trying to keep up. We passed by several startled pedestrians, somehow avoiding any serious collisions. Hannah reached the corner first, grabbed the light post there and swung around it a couple of times to kill her momentum.

  “You’re quick,” I panted. “Sometime we’ll have to have a fair race.”

  “Never going to happen.” She smiled, still swinging around the pole.

  Jake caught up, bent over with his hands on his knees. “Can we maybe just walk the rest of the way?”

  “No guarantees,” I said, patting him on the back. “Sometimes it comes over me and I just have to run.”

  “Like, now?” Hannah asked, her eyes suddenly wide. And she was gone again, me after her, across the intersection and half way up the next block before she had to stop because she was laughing too hard.

  Jake wasn’t too far behind. He was fast when he wanted to be, as I had discovered many times in school.

  Hannah looked at him when he caught up, eyebrows raised in a question.

  “Hannah, no. Do you know how many people I had to apologize to because you ran them off the sidewalk into the slush?”

  “Six.”

  “Seven.”

  She counted on her gloved fingers, shrugged. “Fine then.”

  We continued through town at a more pedestrian friendly pace, Hannah showing us points of interest along the way. They were mostly bars and sidewalk cafes.

  “Did you do anything while you were here other than eating and drinking?” Jake asked.

  “It’s a college town, and in the summer at least, a resort town. Drinking, eating and talking late into the evening are part of the culture.” She ran her hand along the cast iron rail that separated snow covered tables from the sidewalk. “I did some great research sitting right here. People come to Palma Sola from everywhere. Places like this are where language is made and normalized. You should read the articles I published. Peer reviewed, even.”

  The snow had stopped for now and low clouds were moving quickly just above the rooftops. We crossed the street, walked a couple of blocks away from the coast and turned south again. I realized I still wasn’t sure where we were going. “Is this the way to the University?”

  “I knew you’d want to see the lecture hall before your presentation tomorrow.” She was right about that. “And it’s a nice walk and the campus is pretty.”

  “Thanks. I’d like to make sure I can connect to Wandering Star from the podium. I always like to know as much as I can about what I’m getting into before I jump in.”

  “I get that about you.” Hannah smiled and looked back at me. “Do you know why Angela always calls you Theodore instead of Ted?”

  “Because it’s more professional? She’s like that with all of us.”

  “No she’s not. She calls you Theodore because it’s more pompous.”

  That got a big laugh from Jake. “It’s amazing how quickly and how well everyone has gotten to know you.”

  “I’m not pompous, I just take my job seriously.”

  “And yourself,” Jake chuckled.

  While my friends were busy making fun of me we arrived at the main campus of the University of Palma Sola.

  “See?” Hannah pointed, “Pretty.”

  It was very pretty. There were broad open spaces, buildings made of local stone and tall trees that appeared to have been there since the original colonization. It reminded me of the Academy which reminded me of my friend Kaelyn which made me a little homesick.

  “Are those oak trees?” I asked, realizing that I hadn’t seen anything on Dulcinea that wasn’t from Earth. “Why aren’t there any native plants?”

  Jake answered, “The colonists pretty much brought Earth with them. They were worried about being able to eat what lived here and they wanted it to be as Earth-like as possible. Most of the native species are now limited to a few reserves.” I looked at him, eyebrows raised. “What?” he said defensively, “I did my research. The job I take seriously, just not myself.”

  Hannah reached up and took Jake’s collar, pulling him down for a quick kiss. “None of us do.”

  “Nice.”

  “Let’s get moving,” Hannah said. “There’s a decent café on campus called The Christie-Cleek. I’m starving.”

  It was snowing hard again when we left the café after lunch. Hannah guided us acr
oss campus to the geology building, passing a few students along the way with their heads down against the storm. I stopped at the front door.

  “Wait a second, I want to see something.” I brushed snow away from the sandstone blocks the building was made of. “Look at this. Fossils of some kind.” I started to brush away more of the snow but Jake grabbed my arm and pulled me into the building.

  “I’m not standing out there in the snow while you look at fossils.”

  “I’ve never seen one like that before.”

  “Of course not. Not Earth.”

  I looked back toward the door longingly. Hannah called to us from down the corridor. “Main lecture hall is this way.”

  “Sorry,” Jake apologized. “Ted was about to take a take a hammer to the front wall.”

  “Not true.”

  Hannah looked confused for a moment. “Whatever. Here’s your venue for tomorrow, Ted. The schedule posted on the prompter says we have about twenty minutes before the next class, so go do whatever you need to do.”

  The hall looked like it could hold about three hundred or three hundred fifty people, with tiered seating and a stage and podium up front. The lights were set low except for the stage area. I walked down to the podium and called back up to Jake, “Hah! They’re using a Caster 300, same as at the Academy.”

  “Interstellar trade is a beautiful thing.”

  I entered my RuComm credentials and access codes for the ship. Star’s reply printed across the screen saying how delighted she was to hear from me. More importantly, all my notes and presentations were available. At least that part of tomorrow should be easy. I opened my non-technical overview charts; lots of pictures, small words and simplified graphics. A photograph of 19th century geologist Charles Lyell appeared on the screen behind me along with his famous quote, ‘The Present is the Key to the Past’.

  Hannah had taken a seat in the front row next to Jake. She pointed up at the image. “That’s funny.”

  “What? The quote?” I turned to make sure the right slide was being displayed.

  “No, him. Lyell. You’re standing in the Charles Lyell lecture hall. I noticed the name when I checked the prompter. Good omen.”

  “I hope so. I don’t feel ready for this at all.”

  “Oh, you’ll do fine.” Jake comforted me. “You’ll worry about it all evening, run through your slides a couple of hundred times staying up way too late over preparing, and you’ll show up exhausted tomorrow. Then you’ll ace it like you always do.” He looked at Hannah. “Always, every paper, every test, every final since I’ve known him.”

  “Nothing kills like overkill,” Hannah replied.

  I shut off the displays, logged out, and followed Jake and Hannah up the stairs. A movement caught my eye as I was about to walk through the doorway. There was a person sitting in the darkness of the back row. How long had he been there? I paused looking at him. He waved almost like he knew me but didn’t say anything. I continued out into the corridor.

  “Did you see that guy sitting in the back row?”

  “No,” from Jake.

  “Yes,” Hannah replied.

  “He waved to me. Do you know who he was?”

  “Maybe a student arrived early?” Jake offered.

  “No, he was older, wearing glasses.”

  Hannah shook her head. “No idea. But, Ted—“

  “Don’t say it.”

  “Be careful tomorrow.”

  “Where to next?” Jake asked as we adjusted our coats. The view out the glass of the front doors showed that another five centimeters of snow had accumulated just in the short time we had been inside.

  Hannah sighed, looking sad. “Well, I’m starting to think that walking half way up the cliff for a cup of hot chocolate may not be my best idea. Let’s just tour around campus a bit. Jake, I can show you where your building is, if you care. Then we could walk back into town but I think we’re going to be running out of daylight pretty early.”

  I had been looking at the display panel by the door while Hannah was talking. As Jake reached to open the door I cried, “Wait! Look at this.” I tapped the screen. “Did you know there’s a geology museum on the second floor?”

  Jake shoved the door open. “No, Ted. You’ll have plenty of time for that later. Let’s go see the building where I’m going to spend the next couple of months.” He opened the door and we went out into the snow.

  We spent the afternoon wandering the entire campus. At times the snow would almost stop, then a new squall line would pass over the city and visibility would drop to zero. The students seemed divided in their attitudes to the storm. Some seemed intent on making it to their classes as quickly as possible. Others, the majority, seemed to have decided that God himself had declared a snow day and they intended to use it. By late afternoon we had passed legions of snowmen rising from the fields and an epic snowball fight in progress that had twenty or more participants on each side. Jake and I were both ready to enlist but Hannah had other ideas.

  “I want to get back to The Christie-Cleek for some hot chocolate and to warm up.”

  So that’s where we headed. The snow continued falling and the temperature was dropping along with the daylight. We made just one more stop along the way. Someone had made a row of snow angels lined up along the sidewalk for almost a hundred meters. Hannah agreed that it would not be right to pass by without adding three more to the row. I was lying there on my back next to her and Jake looking up at the snow floating in the darkening grey of the sky with the black branches of the trees above me and I thought, no matter what happens tomorrow, or even on the rest of mission, this moment I will always have.

  Jake’s face entered my field of view. “If you just keep lying there we’re going to leave you to the crows. Or whatever they have here that are like crows.”

  I reached up and he grabbed my arm and pulled me up onto the sidewalk. “Onward.”

  “Onward,” he replied.

  The café was crowded when we arrived, but Hannah got her hot chocolate and Jake and I sat with her by the window and watched her drink it.

  “It seems to be a religious experience for her,” I said, noting the careful process she used.

  “Or maybe a sexual one,” Jake added, looking at her smile.

  “Do those have to be mutually exclusive?” Hannah asked. Then she ran her tongue around the inside of the cup to get the last vestiges of chocolate and whipped cream. She smiled, contented.

  “Not if you practice the right religion, I suppose.” Jake answered, his voice sounding far away.

  Hannah put her cup down. “Dinner.”

  We didn’t answer, the image of her finishing the hot chocolate still filling our minds. She waved her hand in our faces. “Hey! Dinner. What do you want for dinner?”

  “Oh,” I said, coming back to the moment, “something simple. Not exotic.”

  “Pizza it is then. I know just the place. Comfort food for the home sick travelers.”

  The place she selected was on the way back to the hotel. It was built of brick, outside and in and seemed the perfect place for a cold night. The service was slow and the menu options confusing, but the food was worth the wait. Hannah was right; a pizza and a cold beer made it feel almost like home.

  A light snow was falling as we left the restaurant, the large snowflakes moving in slow motion in Dulcinea’s low gravity. It was still a couple of kilometers back to the hotel and it was cold, but no one suggested a taxi. Too many weeks in enclosed spaces had left us with a need for an open sky and free moving air, regardless of the temperature. I was walking a few steps behind Hannah and Jake, trying to ignore their banter and enjoy the magic of the snow. Hannah gave up on convincing Jake that she was right about whatever it was they were arguing about and started a long commentary about the planet, the city, the university, and the restaurant we had just left usin
g a mix of local dialects and idioms. It was funny enough that she had both of us laughing the rest of the way back. As we moved past each street light I watched the shadows move across her face as she talked. Her hair was full of snow by now, and the corners of her eyes crinkled as she laughed at her own stories. Amid the floating snow and laughter I realized something. I was falling in love with Hannah. I glanced quickly at Jake, afraid he could hear my thoughts or that I had said it out loud, but he was still walking ahead of me, laughing at Hannah’s imitation of the waiter pretending not to understand our pizza order. I think I hated Jake a little bit right then.

  When we said goodnight at the hotel, Hannah gave us each a kiss on the cheek which we reciprocated. I kissed her a fraction of a second longer and maybe a little softer than I intended. Jake didn’t notice, but Hannah did. She tipped her head slightly to the right and those startling, soft brown eyes looked into mine for a moment. “Pleasant dreams, Ted.”

  “You too.” I replied. “We’ll see you in the morning.” She held my gaze, a smile on her lips, turned and walked down the hall toward her room.

  I hate it when Jake is right about me. I ran through my presentations, added links to my notes in case the audience wanted to go deeper and tried to anticipate what questions might come up. I also reviewed what was available about the geology of the Margo Islands, which wasn’t much: one big island and a couple of smaller ones, granodiorite cores with some sedimentary deposits and a coral reef fringe growing offshore. I only slept a couple of hours, but that had less to do with worrying about my presentation than I like to admit. Hannah’s cheek had been very soft against my lips and there were small gold flecks in her eyes.

  Jake, Hannah and most of the team were already in the pub eating breakfast by the time I made it downstairs. Early morning sun was shining through the windows, yesterday’s storm having moved on overnight. I joined them and Jake slid a plate to me, having been nice enough to have already ordered my food.