Wandering Star

by Steven Anderson

  “Those are faults?”

  “We love you for them, but yes, they are right now. Trust no one. And don’t play poker while you’re there.”

  “OK.” We talked a while longer then I disconnected, wrote my report and sent it off to Angela. I called her a few minutes later.

  “Theodore,” she said, “I’ve read it. I suppose now I’ll have to forgive Professor Vandermeer given the circumstances. Do you have anything further to add?”

  “No, I’m still trying to figure out why they want a RuComm person here so badly. I don’t think there’s much to do in person for the next few weeks that I couldn’t have done at the University.”

  “Get some sleep and let me know if anything comes to you. I’ll see what I can find out from here.”

  Sleep sounded like a great idea. It took only a few minutes to put a sheet on the bed and lie down with a blanket over me and a soft pillow beneath my head. But how was I supposed to fall asleep with everything that had happened and so many new problems? Sleep took me before I could even remember what it was that I was supposed to be worrying about.

  Several hours later I was suddenly awake. The room was still dark except for a faint glow against the shades. I lay there a moment listening. Nothing. My watch that I had set on the nightstand showed 0238. Sighing, I got up and navigated in the dark to the kitchen looking for a drink of water. The refrigerator was empty and the freezer held a single tray of ice cubes. Opening cupboards I soon found a glass and better yet, a half bottle of something dark brown. I held it in the light from the fridge. The bottle was unfamiliar but the 43% alcohol by volume on the label looked promising. Putting a couple of ice cubes in the glass I grabbed the bottle and stepped out onto the front porch. It was still warm, maybe twenty-five degrees or more. I sat on the front step, poured some of whatever it was into my glass and tried a sip. It had a smoky, peaty flavor. I raised the glass in a silent toast, God bless you, Parker, wherever you are. A glass or two of this and getting back to sleep should be no problem.

  Somewhere out in the forest I could hear animals calling to each other, whether insect-like or bird-like I had no idea, but from my front porch it was a peaceful sound. Dulcinea’s larger moon was low in the sky and the stars were as bright as any I had seen on a desert night at home.

  My moment of peace was interrupted by the crunch of gravel as a figure approached down the middle of the road. She was tall and slight, as many on Dulcinea are due to the lower gravity. She seemed to be mostly long thin legs, long thin arms, all straight vertical lines and sharp angles clad in t-shirt and shorts. She called to me while still in front of the lab building next door in a soft voice as though she knew me, her voice carrying easily in the dense night air.

  “Trouble sleeping, Ted? I’m usually the only one up at this hour.”

  “It seemed too beautiful a night to miss it sleeping,” I lied. She came up the steps and sat down next to me. “Would you like a drink?” I offered. “I can get you a glass.”

  “No, don’t bother, this is fine.”

  She picked up the bottle and drank while I watched her. Her face was much like the rest of her; high cheekbones, angular features and eyes that seemed to have been caught mid-laugh and sort of stayed that way. She put the bottle down and leaned back on her elbows, long legs stretched out down the stairs. I could not help but smile at her.

  “Do I look that odd to you?”

  “No, not at all.” I could feel myself blush.

  “My dad was right about you.”

  “How so?”

  “He said that you’re a terrible liar.”

  “He doesn’t know me that well. We only spent a couple of hours together.”

  “Sometimes that’s enough.” She paused, looking up at the stars. “And he talked to your boss.” She grinned at me.

  I poured some more scotch into my glass. “I was hoping to get a couple more hours of sleep tonight.”

  “I thought you said the night was too beautiful.”

  “It is. What are you doing out this late?”

  “I was on my way to pray. I have a favorite spot for the nights when I can’t sleep. Come with me.” She stood and reached her hand out to me.

  “Why not?” I took her hand. “Can we drink while we pray?”

  “Absolutely.” She picked up the bottle and we crossed the street.

  “Is it far?”

  “No, just across the street and down the slope a few meters to where the terrace drops off toward the sea.”

  We passed beside Lydie and Helen’s cabin opposite mine and squished through mud for fifty meters before coming to a couple of wide chairs and a table. Looking behind me I could still make out my cabin by the light from the moon. I sat in one of the chairs while Alice perched on the edge of the table. Below us was the cove where I had arrived, the small seaplane shining white at anchor by the dock. I could just hear the sound of gentle surf on the beach.

  I finished my drink and poured another, which I did not need. I could feel the effect of the first two rapidly spreading mist through my brain.

  “Alice?” I tipped my head back to look at her and she looked down at me. “Your dad said you are a geophysicist and the most brilliant student he’d ever had. The team here mentioned marine biology and maybe more. Why did you give that up?”

  “Ted, I believe you’ve been drinking.” She took another sip from the bottle.

  “I have, that’s true, and I might not have asked so soon after meeting you if I hadn’t been, but I want to know.”

  “You want to know. That could be the defining credo of my youth, I wanted to know… everything.” She spread her arms wide, the bottle still in her left hand sloshing. “I grew up on campus with two professors for parents and I learned everything they threw at me. I’m really, really good at it.” She looked behind us, up toward the peak. “Listen. Do you hear them? I can tell you the names and habits of every creature we can hear singing in the night. We can go down to the tide pools and I know all about the critters that live in them. And the geology. That’s my dad’s passion, so it became mine. When I walk on the beach or up here on the terrace or climb the trails on the peak, I see… I see not the beauty but the processes that create it. I can’t not see the stratigraphy and the erosion and deposition and tectonic uplift and, well, that was my dilemma. I knew the creation so well that I could not hear the creator. Do you know the passage in Luke where the leaders tell Jesus to rebuke his disciples for making too much noise and he says, ‘if they remain silent, the very stones will cry out’? Well, the stones cried out.”

  “The stones cried out to you?”

  “Not literally.” She drank some more from the bottle. “I don’t hear voices, and I don’t think I’m crazy.”

  I nodded. “So now you’re the chaplain to a bunch of soldiers on an island far from home.”

  She sighed. “I was supposed to be on Bodens Gate doing missionary work. Do you know Bodens Gate? There’s a lot of work to be done there.” She sounded suddenly very sad.

  “A little. It’s the third stop for Wandering Star. A resupply stop. But what about here? General Barrows must have felt you were needed here.”

  “No, General Barrows needed leverage over my father and I was it.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “No, but now you’re here so I suppose he has leverage over the Reunification Commission as well.”

  I swallowed the rest of my third glass. “I don’t think I’m that important to them. Not the way you are to your dad.”

  “I’m dizzy now.” She laid back on the table and we spent the next few minutes in silence looking at the stars. I glanced over my shoulder at her, and yes, Alice was a bit different as Lydie had said. A sweet kind of different maybe, but definitely unique. I reached for the bottle, thought better of it. I closed my eyes and thought about sleeping right there in the chair in t
he fading moonlight with Alice stretched out on the table behind me sleeping or maybe praying.

  I dozed for a couple of hours, my thoughts wandering. Then came the crunch of feet on gravel again. I turned around. Alice was still unmoving. I could see a figure by my cabin walk up the stairs, set a package down by the door, then come back down the stairs. Crunch of gravel, then the procedure was repeated at the lab building.

  “Alice?” I whispered, “You awake?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Do you get deliveries of anything in the mornings? Like milk or something?”

  She rolled her head over and opened one eye to look at me. “No.”

  I pointed up toward the buildings. “Well, we are this morning.”

  “That’s my quarters,” she said as the figure came down her stairs.

  A horrible realization hit me and shivers ran down my arms and legs. “No. No, no, no.” I rolled out of the chair and started running still saying ‘no’ over and over again. I rounded in front of Lydie and Helen’s cabin just as the figure was coming down their stairs, a figure I could now see was short and wearing a uniform. I was closing on him fast when the first explosion went off behind me. My cabin. I could feel the heat on my back. The second explosion hit the lab at the same time I collided with the soldier’s back at full speed, wrapping my arms around him and riding him into the mud where we slid for a couple of meters. I don’t think he ever heard me coming. The third explosion went off, then the fourth, way too close, leaving my ears ringing as bits of building and dirt fell all around us.

  Rolling off of him, I grabbed the soldier’s arm and flipped him over; no not him, her. I was looking at the mud covered face of a girl of not more than eighteen or nineteen. She was gasping for air, eyes not quite able to focus on me. She reached up toward me and managed a hoarse whisper.

  “You’re dead.”

  Alice had caught up to me by then and the girl looked at her. “You’re dead too,” she said. She seemed to find it funny and tried to laugh but only a gurgle came out and she closed her eyes trying to cough.

  “We need a medic. I think I broke a couple of her ribs.”

  Sergeant McKellar had arrived by then along with what seemed to be everyone else on the island. McKellar knelt down next to her and wiped some of the mud off of her face.

  “Sweet Jesus, you’ve about crushed the life from her.” I could see the remains of Lydie and Helen’s cabin behind him. An arm, maybe a leg was dangling out of the front window partially concealed by clouds of black smoke and flame. I closed my eyes, the effects of adrenaline, too much scotch and little sleep starting to catch up with me.

  The medical team arrived and McKellar helped lift the girl on to a stretcher where they started to work stabilizing her. I was still sitting on the ground absently picking at the layers of mud on my leg. One of the medics mentioned that the girl was wearing an OP uniform, although it was hard to see with all the mud on her. That got a couple of the others excited and orders were issued for guards and lights. I looked up at the stretcher. The bottoms of the girl’s boots were a meter from my head. There were so many layers of mud on them that I couldn’t even see the pattern of the tread.

  “OK, let’s get her indoors and cleaned up,” McKellar ordered.

  “No.” I stood up. “Wait. I want her pants.” All motion and talking ceased as everyone tuned to look at me.

  “You want, what?” McKellar asked, his tone hostile.

  “And her boots,” I continued. “The layers of mud on them might help us figure out who she is and where she got the explosives.”

  “She’s wearing an OP uniform and she has a bag full of explosives just like the ones they use for doing surveys.”

  Alice stepped forward. I could see her shaking but her voice was steady. “A crime has been committed, Sergeant. Don’t destroy the evidence.”

  The medics looked from her to him, waiting for orders. “Fine, you can have the pants and boots. Do you mind if we try to save the girl’s life first?”

  “I’ll go with you,” Alice replied. “I’m a certified medical tech.”

  “Of course you are.”

  They loaded the stretcher into the truck and left down the hill leaving me there to watch the crews working to extinguish the fires. My cabin, along with my display pad, watch, ID badge, and new clothes were in a molten pool of plastic composite. I had no idea where to go next.

  “Mr. RuComm, you look like shit.”

  “Marcus.” I gestured toward the burning cabin next to me but no words would come. I could feel tears coming down my face. I hadn’t cried since I was ten when Jake had hit me in the stomach.

  “I know. Lydie. Helen. I think I was supposed to be next but someone interrupted her. I should thank you for that.”

  I nodded, and the slight motion was more than my head could stand. I found myself on all fours throwing up in the middle of the street; scotch, fish, purple plants and all. Marcus waited for me to finish.

  He reached his hand down to help me up. “Since your cabin seems to be having some issues, why don’t you come with me? You can have a shower and I can loan you some clean clothes that won’t fit. I’m sure the Lieutenant will want to talk with you whenever he makes it back from over the hill and gets organized. You might as well be presentable.”

  “Thanks, Marcus.” The sun was just coming up as we walked.

  “By the way, how is it that you’re not dead?” he asked

  “You know the table and chairs over by the edge of the terrace?” Marcus nodded. “I was down there with Alice drinking scotch and talking.”

  “I’d have paid money to see that.”

  We arrived at Marcus’ cabin. I showered and changed, trying not to see the images that kept replaying in my mind of burning buildings, an arm hanging out a shattered window frame, and the muddy face of the girl that had tried to kill me.

  “Why don’t you have a seat? I’m going to go snoop around and see what’s happening. Fix something to eat if you want, I know your stomach must be empty.”

  “Thanks, I will.” I drank a glass of water and sat on the couch with my feet up trying to gather the energy to find some food. I failed. As I collapsed into sleep Hannah’s voice came to me, scolding, why are you trusting Marcus? He could kill you in your sleep. But it was too late, I was asleep.

  Around 1000 the sound of the front door slamming woke me. I looked over the back of the couch at Marcus coming in.

  “Finally awake I see. I brought you a present.” He tossed a bundle of clothes to me. “There’s a new ID badge in there too. And I brought you this.” He held up a new backpack. “It’s military standard issue so it’s probably crap, but it’s better than what you have now. There’s a new display pad and watch in it, also standard issue so probably also crap. And a toothbrush. You may want to start with that, then get changed. Lieutenant Jeffers and Lieutenant Recano of the OP are eager for your company. Alice and I have been holding them off all morning.”

  “Thanks, Marcus.” I went in to the bedroom to change, calling back to him. “So what’s going on out there?”

  “Well, no one is shooting at anybody else yet, but that’s probably a matter of time. The woman, Fiona Monroe is the name she gave, is still alive but with six broken ribs, a punctured lung and a concussion. Remind me not to make you mad. Lieutenant Recano is claiming not to know who she is and no one remembers ever seeing her before. Alice secured her uniform and boots for you.” Marcus shook his head. “I gotta tell you, that’s a scene I’ll remember forever, you standing in the middle of the street covered in mud yelling that you want her pants.”

  “I was yelling?”

  “Yeah, I think your hearing was still messed up from the blast.”

  I paused. “Maybe I should have had someone check me out.”

  “Alice scanned you while you were sleeping. You’re fine.”


  “Really? I don’t remember any of that.” I came out of the bedroom wearing a nicer shirt and shorts with lots of pockets. “Better?”

  Marcus shrugged.

  “Now I am starving,” I said.

  “Yeah, well now there’s no time.” He opened the fridge. “Take a pasty to eat while we walk.” He handed me a cold doughy pocket full of something that smelled OK.

  We stepped out onto the front porch. The three buildings across the street, mine and Alice’s quarters and the lab, were still smoldering. Lydie and Helen’s was covered by tarps which hid everything from view, but did nothing to block out the images playing in my mind.

  “You OK?”

  I realized I was still standing on the porch. “Yeah, fine. Lead on.” Marcus talked while I ate but my appetite was not what it’d been five minutes earlier.

  “The Foundation for Margo Islands Development wants me out of here as soon as possible. You might want to contact your boss sometime soon. She’s been calling about every ten minutes. I imagine they want you evacuated too.”

  “No.”

  “No? They’re even pulling the construction battalion out.”

  “Does any of this make sense to you, Marcus? At dinner everyone was telling me how chummy the two teams were, that the only animosity was in the capitals, not on the island. Now the OP wants to kill your survey team?”

  “If it’s not the OP then who?” Marcus took another couple of steps then stopped. “Damn, Ted, you think this is a false flag? ‘Innocent Scientists and Chaplain Killed in OP Surprise Attack’.” He sighed. “The church has a lot of pull in Palma Sola, we’d be at war inside a week. And killing you would drag the Reunification Commission in on our side or at least keep them neutral.” We started walking again.

  “Alice told me last night that I was here because General Barrows wanted leverage over RuComm. Alive, I don’t give him that, but dead I take on a whole lot more significance.”

  “So you want to stay here in the middle of a military encampment on the edge of war to prove that our commanding General is a traitor and a terrorist?” I shrugged. “Get on the plane, Ted, get on the plane and fly out of here. Let them burn.”