Wandering Star

by Steven Anderson

  I looked at my sandwich. “I don’t think so.”

  “Good.” Howard tapped a few buttons on his display. “Here we go.” I could feel the dock detach itself and give the aircraft a gentle shove before retracting. The engines came to life. Howard handed me a pair of headphones. “You might want these,” he shouted over the harmonic thrum.

  After a short run across the water we were airborne and climbing steeply while Howard talked to the control tower. We circled back over the city. “Beautiful place, Palma Sola, even in the winter.” I looked down briefly, saying a silent goodbye to Jake and Hannah as we banked away to the north.

  Howard leveled the wings and pushed back in his seat. “My job here is done. She can take us the rest of the way and I’m for a nap. I had a bit of a late night last night and up early this morning. I do love a snowy night in a college town.” He smiled.

  “Autopilot the rest of the way?” I asked

  “Truth is she could do the whole trip without me, but where’s the fun in that?”

  “My ship, Wandering Star, is the same way. She can do the job better than her crew ninety-nine point nine, nine something percent of the time but it’s that small percent that matters. And it’s being there to do the job in person that keeps us human. That’s supposed to be the big lesson from the fall of the old Union, isn’t it?”

  “True. But still it’s nice to be able to lean back once in a while and let the machine take the stick.” He closed his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest leaving me to look at the ocean below and the slowly scrolling map display.

  I finished my sandwich, used the lavatory and decided that a nap was definitely in order. My night had been short and the morning much too early. The seats in the cabin looked more comfortable than those in the cockpit, and after some fiddling, I was able to get one to fold flat. Finding some blankets and a pillow, I stretched out and quickly fell asleep to the reassuring murmur of the engines.

  I awoke some hours later to moderate turbulence, my view out the windows a mass of dark clouds. Making my way forward required a good grip on the back of each seat. Howard was awake but still letting the plane fly itself.

  “How are we doing?” I asked.

  “Typical weather for this time of year. We’re about an hour out and working around a line of thunderstorms. We should be able to get ahead of them far enough to get safely down before they catch up with us.” He grinned at me. “We’re going to have a warm, wet, sloppy Margo Islands welcome for you. Hope you don’t mind the mud.”

  “The desert is more home to me, but I’m flexible.”

  “That’s good. Flexibility will make you popular here. Best strap in, this part could be bumpy.”

  Howard resumed manual control and the aircraft motions became noticeably more aggressive as he flew in and out of cumulus canyons, seemingly more for fun than a desire to avoid the worst of the storms. But he kept his word, and the sun was shining low in the sky when we touched the water and taxied up to the Margo Islands dock.

  “Thanks, Howard, I enjoyed the flight. It helped make up for a very weird morning.” I unstrapped while Howard worked through his checklist, shutting off systems. A couple of uniformed men were busy on the dock pulling the aircraft in and tying it down.

  “You only say that because you slept most of the way. I’d offer to help you with your bags, but…”

  “Yeah, I always travel light.” I stopped on my way out to try and put the seats back upright but Howard interrupted.

  “Don’t bother, I may be using it later.”

  The cabin door opened and hot, humid air poured in across us.

  “Wow,” I said involuntarily.

  Howard chuckled. “It does have that effect the first few times you experience it.”

  I stepped out onto the dock expecting some sort of welcome but there were only the two men tying the aircraft down. We were in a small cove with a nice beach overshadowed by a peak shrouded in lush growth. Granodiorite, I said to myself, remembering the geologic survey. It was going to be impossible to see rock outcrops anywhere on the island with so much vegetation on top of it.

  A vehicle approached, fat tired with canvas covering the roof. The driver got out, a sergeant if the stripes on his sleeve were the same as what I was used to.

  He looked at me across the hood and shouted, “Are you Theodore Holloman?”

  “I am.”

  “Let’s get moving and we’ll see if we can’t get you indoors before we all get soaked.”

  I tossed my bag in the back and climbed in.

  “Name’s McKellar. Welcome to the Margo Islands,” he said shaking my hand as he drove. “It’s a hell of a place.”

  CHAPTER 3

  MARGO ISLANDS

  THE UNDERGROWTH WAS GREEN AND leafy, but not like anything I recognized from home and the trees blurring past the windshield were not really trees. For the first time since leaving Earth I felt like I was no longer on Earth. It was early evening but I couldn’t tell if the growing darkness was from the late hour, the green wall of plant life crowding the narrow road climbing up from the cove, or the thick misty clouds rolling off the peak to the northwest.

  “The first survey team built everything right there by the water. It must have been really convenient for them until the first big storm blew in and they had to scramble for higher ground in the middle of the night.” The Sergeant laughed. “They had to rebuild from scratch up on Big Falls Terrace.”

  “Terrace?”

  “That’s what the surveyors named it. It’s big and it’s flat and we built a camp on it on one side of the valley and the engineers are digging up the other side for gravel to build roads and make concrete for the new runways. ‘Terrace’ makes it sound pretty grand, doesn’t it? We just call it Camp BFT. At least the mud isn’t too bad across most of it.”

  The camp was laid out along several hundred meters of gravel road. The buildings had a typical prefabricated look about them, shiny tan composite showing the effects of harsh sun and too much rain. We stopped at the first structure. Sergeant McKellar and I got out and he squinted up at the clouds as he walked up onto the covered porch.

  “We’ve just made it.” As he spoke the rain started, heavy and warm coming straight down out of the clouds. I stood there a moment watching the lights coming on around the camp while the Sergeant pointed out its main features.

  “This is Platoon Headquarters and infirmary, up the road there is the Post Exchange, chow hall, survey team quarters, the lab and up along the top are the barracks for the enlisted.”

  “What are the lights by themselves up slope toward the mountain?” I asked.

  “Armory and explosives storage.”

  “Explosives?”

  “Your explosives, for doing seismic surveys.”

  “Ah.”

  “And clearing brush. Also fishing, when we can borrow a few to dump in the ocean. Beats standing around all day with a pole.”

  I laughed. The rain suddenly got heavier and the camp disappeared.

  “Does it do this every day?”

  “Naw, sometimes it starts up and keeps at it all week.”

  “Doesn’t really cool things down, does it?”

  “Does wonders for the humidity, though. We best get you in to see the Lieutenant. He’ll want to be done and on his way to dinner soon.”

  Lieutenant Jeffers sat behind a desk that, like everything else in the room, matched the prefab worn look of the exterior. An air conditioner hummed loudly somewhere in the ceiling. Jeffers looked up as we entered.

  “Holloman, glad you made it.” He glanced up at a clock mounted above the door. “Chow hall closes in twenty minutes and I imagine you’re as hungry as I am after your long trip.” He passed a badge to me that had the same picture of me as my RuComm identity. “Keep this with you. It will grant access to the areas of the camp wher
e you need to work and to your quarters. We gave you Parker’s old unit right next to the lab. I was told that you would be needing a full set of clothes, so you’ll find them in your quarters. If they don’t fit or you need anything else let McKellar know and we’ll have it printed for you.” He looked from me to McKellar and back to me. “Any questions?”

  Realizing that I didn’t know enough to have any questions I replied, “None at this time,” which was better than what I was thinking which was, what in the hell am I doing here?

  We stepped back out on to the porch and the Lieutenant selected an umbrella out of a tall bucket setting by the stairs. “See you there.”

  We watched him for a moment and McKellar handed one to me. “He does hate being late for dinner.”

  I smiled and opened my umbrella. It smelled moldy and wet. “Sergeant, can I ask you a question? What the hell am I doing here?”

  McKellar laughed. “You seem like a bright boy. You’ll figure it out.”

  We walked down the stairs into the rain and crunched along the gravel path following the distant figure of Lieutenant Jeffers.

  The chow hall was crowded despite the Lieutenant’s concerns. Most of the tables were full and the conversations loud and friendly. Whatever was on the menu smelled pretty good to me. I picked up a tray and followed McKellar through the line.

  “Fish again?” He picked up a plate, looking disgusted.

  “You’re on an island, Sergeant, fish or synthetics, take your pick. Here, put some of these on it.” The cook ladled a scoop of purplish tubes full of little air pockets on top of the fish.

  “A friend of mine always eats those,” I remarked. “I didn’t know they were from Dulcinea.”

  As we exited the line with our trays the Sergeant pointed at one of the tables with his elbow. “That’s your survey team. I’ll leave you to them.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant, you’ve been a big help.”

  He nodded and went to a table on the other side of the room where he was greeted with an obscene comment and laughter.

  I approached the table where three members of the team were seated, the others I assumed having finished and left.

  “Hi, I’m Ted Holloman, mind if I join you?”

  The man seated with his back to me didn’t turn around but said to his companions in mock horror, “It’s the man from RuComm come to save us!” He turned to look at me, dark eyes shining above a full beard streaked with gray. “What if we don’t want to be saved, RuComm man?”

  I stood there stupidly holding my tray not sure how to respond. The woman on his right saved me. “Have a seat Ted and feel free to ignore Marcus. I’m Lydie Debreaux, petroleum geology, stratigraphy and bit of chemistry on the side. It’s a small team so we all double up and more. That’s Helen Weir,” Helen raised her hand, “mineralogy and seismology. And Marcus Wright, biology, herpetology and cynicism.”

  “So the rest of the team has already finished dinner?” I asked. Helen and Lydie looked at each other while Marcus made a snorting sound.

  “You’re looking at it,” he answered. “There were once twenty of us with a couple of guards. Now there’re thirty guards, a construction battalion and just us three, I mean four,” he corrected himself with an exaggerated bow of his head in my direction, “now that you’re here to replace the dearly departed Parker.” He placed his hand over his heart.

  “He’s dead?” I asked.

  “No, just departed.”

  “What about your geophysist? Professor Vandermeer said you had a good one.”

  “Huh.” Marcus did not try to hide an expression of disgust. “Alice is not one of us.” I must have looked confused so he continued. “The Professor didn’t tell you that she’s his daughter, did he? Typical.”

  “So if she’s not here with the survey team…”

  Marcus started to answer but Helen cut him off. “Marcus’ version would take till morning so let me give you the short take. Alice has advanced degrees in geophysics and marine biology and probably a couple of other things we’re unaware of. I guess that comes from having two college professors as your parents. Anyway, a couple of years ago she had a bit of a personal crises and decided that her scientific studies were for naught. She went away and came back to Palma Sola a few months ago an ordained preacher with plans to leave for Bodens Gate as a missionary. Somehow General Barrows found out about her and recruited her to come to the Margo Islands as a chaplain. Why her, I have no idea. She’s a bit…different. But she has been helpful at times.”

  One piece of the puzzle suddenly clicked into place while Helen was talking. I looked at Marcus thinking that his cynicism might already be affecting me. “Of course,” I said, “Alice is here so I would come.”

  “Oh? And how does that work?” Marcus wanted to know.

  “Professor Vandermeer is the liaison for arranging RuComm support. Barrows knew that we would never have consented to being involved with a situation this volatile so he had to make sure the Professor kept us in the dark until the last minute. Having Alice here gave him the leverage he needed. I found out I was coming to the Margo Islands at 0800 this morning.”

  Marcus smiled. “Damn, I might have to start liking you, Mr. RuComm. That’s just the sort of thing that bastard Barrows would do. So why does he want you here so badly?”

  I took a bite of my fish before answering. Those purplish things really were pretty good with it. “I have no idea. I need to think about it some more. I’ve had enough unpleasant surprises for one day, so this one can wait.”

  “Would you like to get together at the lab tomorrow morning? We can try to bring you up to date on the survey results,” Lydie offered.

  I nodded.

  “We’re on tropical time here so how about we meet at 0900? It will give you a chance to adapt.”

  “Perfect.”

  We walked out onto the chow hall’s porch after dinner. The rain had stopped and the sky was clear and full of stars. I looked at them briefly, wondering if my own sun was one of them. We walked down the stairs and Marcus turned off to the right while Lydie and Helen walked with me up the hill toward my quarters. “Marcus?” I asked, looking behind us.

  “NCO club on the other side of the hill,” Lydie answered. “They have better beer.”

  “The ‘hill’?” I asked while we walked.

  “The OP camp is just a kilometer away, up over the ridge. Marcus likes their beer better than ours.”

  “And Sergeant Jessica Villanueva is there,” Helen added, smiling.

  “Isn’t there a certain… rivalry between you and the OP?” I asked.

  “Oh, there is in the capitals. Here mud is the common enemy. And boredom. We all get together for a binge, a big all night party, every week or so. Helen and I know some of their survey team from symposiums in years past. Now we get together and commiserate and drink. And the military folk? Well, both the OP and PFS have men and women here, teenagers for the most part. Any excuse for a party is a good one. They’re also finding out that they aren’t as different as their officers in the capitals are telling them.”

  We stopped in front of my cabin. “Thanks,” I said. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” Then, thinking of the daily report that I still had to write, I asked, “Oh, by the way, who’s your team lead?”

  Lydie and Helen exchanged a quick glance and I was silently praying, please don’t let it be Marcus.

  “You are,” Helen said.

  I started laughing and the two of them smiled at me.

  “Sorry, Ted, I guess we still had one more surprise for you. When Parker left a week ago we were told that someone from RuComm would be leading the survey for the next two months.”

  I tipped my head back. “You know, the stars here are very beautiful.”

  Lydie and Helen followed my gaze. “Yes. Yes, they are. Have a good night, Ted.”

&
nbsp; “Goodnight.”

  I was still chuckling to myself when I opened the door and went inside. A bundle of clothes and fresh linens were sitting on the bed, the AC was humming, all of the lights worked and the toilet flushed. Surprising. If anything, the room was nicer than at the Hilton, really more of a decent sized apartment. Not bad, but I would have felt better if I knew why I was here or what I was supposed to be doing.

  But first things first. I ripped open the package of clothing, found a comfortable looking t-shirt and pair of shorts and quickly changed. My dress clothes were left in a pile on the floor. Next I sat at the kitchen table, pulled my display pad out of my bag, connected to Wandering Star and through her requested a secure connection to Jake. Hannah answered.

  “Well, look at you,” she smiled. “How was your day?”

  “You and Jake might have had a day, I had a week.”

  I brought Jake and Hannah up to date. Jake was jealous of my time on the seaplane, and I was not surprised that Hannah thought she remembered meeting Howard once in Palma Sola. We talked about the heat and humidity and rain and mud and my newfound fondness for purplish plants with dinner. I wondered how it was possible to feel lonely while I was talking to the two people I was missing the most. Ultimately, the conversation turned to the more serious situation I found myself in.

  “Jake, how large a survey team would you expect there to be here?”

  “A dozen at least, maybe more.”

  “Try three. Four now that I’m here and not counting the geophysicist Professor Vandermeer promised me. It turns out she was recruited by General Barrows to be the camp chaplain instead. Oh, and she’s also the Professor’s daughter.”

  Hannah was just as quick to connect the dots as I had been. “Shit, Ted. Angela filled us all in on what happened this morning. Have you told her about this yet?”

  “Not yet. With all the chaos today I wanted some time seeing and talking to you, to you and Jake, before getting a daily report created.” I saw Hannah’s eyes widen briefly at my verbal stumble.

  “Ted, your biggest faults are that you are simple to read and you think everyone else is as honest as you are.”