Wandering Star

by Steven Anderson

  “Here, full English breakfast. The house specialty. You look like you could use fortifying.”

  Two poached eggs stared back at me alongside slices of tomato, ham and two sausages resting on a bed of baked beans. I sighed. Coffee and a hard roll would have been better for the way I was feeling.

  Hannah reached across the table and took one of my sausages, plopping it into a pool of syrup next to her half eaten pancakes. “Eat what you can. You’ll feel better.”

  I ate, but I wasn’t feeling any better by the time we all climbed into our bus for the short ride to the University. The city looked different without snow and mist filling its streets, less magical, more business-like. The men and women rushing along the sidewalks had more purpose about them, more than just a desire to get inside out of the storm.

  As we stepped down from the bus Hannah regarded the scene through green tinted sunglasses. She was dressed more professionally, looking as if she could easily blend in with the working citizens of Palma Sola. She looked older. No, not older I decided, but more mature, with her hair tied back and a bag of the current style over her shoulder. Which was the real Hannah I wondered; the one from last night with snow in her hair, or the one I was looking at now? Probably both.

  “This snow won’t last long in this sun.” She turned her attention to me. “You look good, by the way. Even your backpack works. No one would take you seriously as a geologist if your bag wasn’t beat to hell.”

  “Thanks.” I took a deep breath. “I think I’m starting to feel better.”

  Jake took my hand, shook it. “No worries, mate. We’ll see you at The Christie-Cleek for lunch at 1130.”

  “Thank you, Jake. No worries.”

  I turned in the direction of the Geology building and found Angela blocking my way looking at me with a critical eye. The corners of her mouth turned down and she brushed imaginary dust from my outer jacket.

  “I’m coming with you.” Her hand was still on my jacket. “The bastards still haven’t given me a participant list for today or a schedule for your little field trip.” She released me and we walked along the sidewalk together. “Some stupid bureaucratic foul up, I’m sure.” We passed the remains of a row of snow angels melting in the sun.

  A man wearing a dark suit and a short haircut met us in the corridor outside the lecture hall. “You must be Angela Dawkins. It’s so nice to meet you in person.” He took Angela’s right hand in both of his. “I didn’t know you would be joining us this morning.”

  “Major Kilpatrick.” Angela said, reading the Major’s name tag. “Since you and Professor Vandermeer didn’t reply to my requests for a participants list I thought I’d stop by to see for myself.”

  “Really? I’m sure I asked Lieutenant Conrad to send that to you. I’ll have to speak to her.” He looked at me, smiling a convincingly genuine smile.

  “Major, this is Theodore Holloman.” Angela introduced me. He shook my hand in the normal way.

  “Ted, please.”

  “Ted. Let’s go in, I believe everyone else is already here.”

  I looked at my watch. We were still almost twenty minutes early. So much for setting up ahead of time. A half dozen people were gathered near the stage talking with a man seated in the front row. Back a few rows was an older man busily cleaning his glasses with his tie. I stopped next to him.

  “Professor Vandermeer?” He put his glasses back on, looked at me through the tops of them and then the bottoms.

  “Ah, you must be Theodore Holloman.” He stood and shook my hand while looking around me at Angela. “Ms. Dawkins, it’s always so good to see you again.”

  “Professor,” Angela greeted him. “Is this the limit of our audience? I don’t see any other members of your department.” All of the lights in the lecture hall were on full, leaving no place for anonymous spectators.

  The Professor sighed and looked around at the empty seats. “Ah, yes. I’m afraid you will have to make do with me. And the members of the Foundation for Margo Islands Development.” He lowered his voice. “Politicians, bureaucrats and now the military has decided to take a lead role.”

  “And why is that, Peter?” Angela whispered.

  “Under terms of the Margo Islands treaty, neither the Palma Federated States nor the Oceanus Protectorate can claim or develop or even visit the islands without a joint agreement. Well, we have one now, and eight months ago science teams were sent by both nations. It didn’t go well from the start. The OP team brought a security detachment along with them that was clearly military without the uniforms. So we sent a security team and they enlarged theirs. Now there’s more people carrying guns than doing science. I’ve talked to my counterparts on the OP side and they are as frustrated and as powerless as we are.”

  Angela frowned. “You want to drag the Reunification Commission in on your side of this dispute? That’s not going to happen. We don’t take sides. You’ve done a good job keeping this hidden so far.”

  “Please stop saying ‘you’. This isn’t my doing.”

  Angela didn’t reply, but walked down the steps to where the others were gathered.

  “Should I set up for the presentation?” I asked

  “Wait there,” she snapped back over her shoulder.

  I could not hear everything that was said, but it didn’t sound good. After a few minutes she gestured to me to come down.

  “Theodore, please proceed with your charts.” She accompanied me on to the stage and whispered, “Two of those suits are diplomats from the OP’s Palma Sola embassy. I don’t have grounds to cancel your participation since both parties are represented. I’m sorry. The one they’re all gathered around is General Barrows. He’s the one calling the shots.” She patted my chest and held on to the lapel. “Theodore?”

  “I know, ‘be careful’.”

  She smiled, gave my chest another pat and took a seat next to Professor Vandermeer. I connected to Wandering Star and pulled up my first chart.

  “The Present is the Key to the Past.”

  “Your quote is backwards. Isn’t the study of the past the key to understand the present and the future?” General Barrows interrupted.

  “No, sir. The quote refers to the truth that the processes that we can observe today are the same as the processes that were active in the past. Erosion, deposition, volcanism, seismic activity, the drifting of the continents can all be studied and measured today and their influence on the geology of the planet extrapolated to the distant past.”

  “And Charles Lyell? Who was he?”

  I could see Professor Vandermeer squirm a bit in his seat. “Charles Lyell was one of the founders of modern geology,” I answered. “His promotion of the concept of uniformitarianism, meaning that the processes of today are the same as those that operated in the past, revolutionized science, not just geology. I imagine that is why the University of Palma Sola chose to name this lecture hall in his honor.”

  Angela gave me a scowl and I could see her mouth soundlessly say, “Don’t poke the bear.”

  “So your new tool is based on this old principle. What makes it better than anything else that has come along in the last five hundred years?”

  “It takes advantage of improvements in data analysis and modeling of complex systems. The algorithms provide greater fidelity and are more efficient, so they provide better answers faster. And it’s not used in isolation, but in conjunction with seismic and magnetotelluric imaging.”

  “And you are just giving this advancement away?”

  “I work for the Reunification Commission. What I develop for them is theirs to do with as they please. They pay me.” I smiled, but the General was busy taking quietly with a woman next to him.

  “So are we ready for the next chart?” I asked.

  “How soon can you be ready to leave?”

  That was not a question I was expecting. “Leave
? For the Margo Islands?”

  “Yes. Are you ready to leave?”

  I looked at Angela for help but she just shrugged. “I have most of what I need in my bag or I can link to it on our ship, other than a few incidentals like clothes,” I replied defensively. “And assuming that your lab there has adequate computing power and a simulation tank and your survey data is available. I had expected that most of the preliminary work, like loading baseline data into the model, could be done here at the University.”

  “There will be an aircraft waiting for you at noon. You won’t need to bring any of your ‘incidentals’. Everything will be provided for you when you arrive. You can do your preliminaries on-site. Work with Professor Vandermeer for anything else technical that you need.” He checked his watch. “Major, please make sure Mr. Holloman is on time.” General Barrows stood and walked up the stairs to exit the lecture hall, the rest of his party trailing behind.

  Major Kilpatrick stopped next to Angela and Professor Vandermeer. “Please wait here. I’ll be right back.” He followed the others up the stairs and the door closed behind him.

  I sighed and looked up at the black and white visage of Charles Lyell on the screen behind me. I’d never gotten off my first chart. I started to laugh.

  “You think this is funny, Theodore?” I stopped, the dark humor I had been feeling when faced with the absurdity of the ‘briefing’ fading fast. “I hope you appreciate the danger you’re in. And you, Peter, you knew this was going to happen and you did nothing to warn us.”

  “What good would it have done?” He looked like he was near tears. “Would you have stayed on orbit, hid Ted away somewhere, bypassed Dulcinea altogether? You know that would have been impossible.” He turned his attention to me. “Ted, my department and I will do everything we can to support you. We have a very good geophysicist already on the island as part of the survey crew, one of the best students I’ve ever had, Alice. She will be expecting you.”

  “Peter, why are you doing this? You could always have said no to them.”

  “Not in this case, Angela. It would have been impossible. I’m sorry.”

  Major Kilpatrick came back into the hall, the door banging closed behind him.

  “Well, that was quick, wasn’t it?” He smiled at us. No one answered him or smiled back. “I imagine you have some preparation work you can do before your flight. We’ll need to leave campus by a bit after 1030. Shall I meet you here?”

  “Aren’t there classes scheduled in here today?” I asked.

  “Ah, no. General Barrows had us block out the entire day when we scheduled today’s meeting so all the classes were moved or canceled.” He smiled at us again. “Fine, then. I’ll see you at 1030.”

  After he was gone Angela excused herself as well. “I need to have a private chat with RuComm.”

  The Professor stood when Angela did. He held his hand out to her and for a second I thought she wasn’t going to take it. “Angela, I’m very sorry this has happened this way.” She took his hand before leaving but did not reply.

  “Ted, you do prefer Ted, yes?” I nodded. “She always calls you Theodore, so I wanted to make sure.”

  I sighed. “That’s just Angela.”

  “Ted, let’s move to my office. I’d like to have you talk to a couple of our structural geologists and geomodelers and get your simulation loaded here. That way we can collaborate with you from a distance and help confirm your results. Will that be all right?”

  “Sure.” I shook my head. “This isn’t how I expected today to go. Do things always move this quickly here?”

  The Professor replied as we walked down the corridor. “Not at all. The RuComm visits have always been a pleasant exchange of information and new ideas. Times are troubled just now.” He sighed. “But I’m sure it will all work out.”

  Professor Vandermeer’s office was much like other professors of geology’s offices I’d been in. It contained various curiosities arranged in a chaotic, but somehow logical fashion, and it smelled of rock dust and old books. I worked with the Professor and other members of the department for the next hour setting up simulations and loading data. Once we had finished I sent a note to Jake and Hannah to let them know I was going to miss our lunch date, and dinner, and that Angela would fill them in with the details. I paused for a moment looking at Hannah’s name on the screen, not sure what I was feeling. Maybe this was better, being thousands of kilometers away from her for the next two months. Easier anyway.

  The Professor was sitting at his desk watching me. It was just the two of us in his office now. He picked up a rock from his desk. “Lava” he said tossing it to me. “I collected this specimen myself. This rock can tell you everything about the day it was born. Inside it the grains aligned to the planet’s magnetic field as it cooled. On that day, north was not what is north today. Its mineral composition tells what was in the magma pool where it formed. The grain sizes tell whether it cooled slow or fast. The rate of decay of radioactive material trapped in its matrix tell how many seasons have passed since then. What you hold in your hands is a solid bit of time, ready to tell you what it was like the day it came to be, if you know how to ask it the right questions.” I sat the rock back on his desk and he continued. “I believe all artifacts are like that. A dusty boot, the inside of my coffee cup, even the layers of paint on my office walls. Left undisturbed they capture and hold the moment in time they were created.”

  I smiled. “If these walls could talk.”

  “Who says they can’t? Perhaps no one has asked them the right question.” He looked around his office and smiled. “Perhaps that is for the best. My point, Ted, is keep your eyes open, make sure you are asking the right questions and please be careful. Please remind the others there to be careful too.”

  “I’ll do that.” There was a knock on the door. The Professor nodded and I reached around to open it.

  “I thought I’d find you here. Are we ready to go?”

  “Major Kilpatrick.” I stood, grabbed my coat and backpack. “As ready as I can be. I’m not exactly dressed for this.”

  “We’ll make sure everything is ready for you when you arrive. I’ve already spoken to the quartermaster at Margo.” He looked at the heavy coat I was holding. “You do know where the Margo Islands are don’t you?”

  “About four thousand kilometers north and a bit west?”

  “Yes, just north of the equator. You’re in for a bit of a thermal shock, I’m afraid. The temperatures all this week will be very warm, mid-thirties mostly.”

  Professor Vandermeer pointed at the coat tree by his door. “It will be here waiting for you when you return. You won’t need it for the short distances you’ll be outside on your way to the airport.”

  “Thanks.”

  He led me outside to where he had a vehicle waiting, conveniently parked on the sidewalk next to the building. “Nice service.” I remarked, climbing in.

  “Well, you’re important to us, Ted.”

  I looked out the window toward where I should be sitting down in a few minutes to a nice lunch and sighed.

  “Something wrong?”

  “No, nothing important. Lunch with friends.”

  “Sorry to have disrupted your plans, but think of it as an adventure.”

  “Just being here was supposed to be my adventure.”

  Major Kilpatrick laughed. “I grew up here. I suppose what one man calls an adventure another just calls home.”

  We entered the main road and turned toward the airport. Bypassing the main terminal, we crossed through a couple of layers of security gates and parked next to a long pier extending out into the bay. I’m not sure what I expected when the General had said he would have an aircraft waiting for me, but this was not it. A small white seaplane was tied to the dock, a high wing design with two engines on top mounted in a tandem arrangement turning five-bladed propellers. Th
e aircraft was unadorned except for small gray registration numbers on the tail and what at first glance appeared to be a seagull logo under the cockpit windows. The ‘bird’ had small wings at the shoulder, bigger wings for flight midway back and a pair of clawed feet with too many toes hanging under its tail. Something local, I assumed.

  The aircraft’s wings looked too short and the chord too narrow, a fact I mentioned as we walked along the dock.

  “Yes, everyone from Earth, or from any other planet with greater gravity, makes the same comment. No worries, she’ll fly just fine.”

  The Major shook hands with me and left, leaving me standing on the dock with my backpack, my nice clothes and a bunch of worries. I ducked my head to clear the doorway and climbed into the aircraft. I was greeted by warm air, soft music and twelve empty seats. I could see the pilot up front going through his checklist and hear the murmur of air traffic control on the speaker. Dumping my bag on a seat, I poked my head into the cockpit and introduced myself to the pilot.

  “Howard,” he said reaching around to shake my hand. “We’re just about ready if you want to have a seat and strap in.”

  “No other passengers?”

  “Nope, nothing but cargo this run. And you, of course.” He looked me over. “Nice suit. And just the one bag?”

  “Well, this was all very sudden. They didn’t give me time to change or to pack or to have lunch for that matter.”

  He tapped a cooler behind his seat. “Got you covered there. Sounds like you’re either very important or somebody really doesn’t like you.”

  “Yeah, something like that.” I pulled a sandwich and a drink from the cooler and turned to go back to my seat.

  “You can sit up here if you like. As long as you promise not to touch anything.”

  “Thanks. That would be great.” He pushed the right seat back so I could stay clear of the rudder pedals and I made myself comfortable. “How long will it take us to get there?

  “Usually about six hours if the weather cooperates. You don’t get motion sick do you?”