Wandering Star

by Steven Anderson

  “Hetman Skorzeny, how many citizens do you have here?”

  “Citizens? We have no citizens here,” he replied defensively. Symon leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Oh, you mean how many of my people are joined with me here? Three-hundred fifty-two. Fifty-three in two months when Tirana comes to her term, and should no one else die or be born between now and that time.”

  The conversation went back and forth between Angela and Hetman Skorzeny. She gained permission for us to occupy a couple of empty buildings near the landing pad for the survey team, and permission to talk with other members of the colony that he would make available to us. She agreed to provide food and new printers to supplement the ancient ones that they had managed to keep running. Discussions on the topic of evacuating the colony to another planet would be had over the next several days or weeks. The Hetman had no desire to stay on Cleavus, but his list of demands sounded like it would be lengthy.

  I was relieved when we were finally on the shuttle and feeling the engines pushing us back up to Wandering Star. By the time we were safely back in the port shuttle bay it was nearly 2000 ship time.

  “I know it’s late and the day has been stressful, but we need to get together with everyone while it’s all still fresh in our minds. We’ll meet in the mess hall in fifteen and we can eat while we talk.”

  I sat with Giz and Jake during the meeting. Alice joined us, taking an empty chair when she arrived. Hannah glanced at me, sighed, and turned away. Angela had each of us give our perspective of the colony and then answer questions and make recommendations.

  Hannah was back to her sharp and insightful self but seemed easily angered, snapping at Angela when pressed to make her analysis fit the narrative of a long lost colony that Angela wanted Cleavus to be. “Angela, don’t ask me to know what no one can know. This will take time.”

  Charlotte’s initial thoughts were more definitive. The Cleavus colony had devolved to a state where it could neither be integrated into the Union in its current condition, nor relocated to any other civilized planet. Her recommendation was to have RuComm send a team of social engineers to reform the society in situ, not allowing any outside contact until that task was completed.

  Giz whispered to us, “She’s right, of course, but such a path would not lead to much glory for Angela Dawkins.”

  Alice nodded. “So we stay.”

  “So we stay.”

  CHAPTER 9

  THE TARAKANA

  ANGELA, PETER, GIZ AND OUR systems engineer, Horace Wicklow returned to the colony the next morning, Velena providing security. They planned to meet with Hetman Skorzeny and work on reintegrating the colony into the Union. Hannah, Charlotte, Sipa and I followed in the afternoon. My task was to collect samples and examine the local geology while Hannah and Charlotte met with the Hetman’s three wives and Sipa looked at the colony’s agriculture.

  Hannah and I had a chance to talk in the shuttle bay while we waited for Charlotte and Sipa, who were uncharacteristically late.

  “Jake wasn’t too happy about being left behind. He and Alice will be the only ones on board except for crew,” I commented, trying for innocent small talk.

  “Maybe you should have invited her. You two seem to work very well together.”

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you mad. It’s a small ship and a small team. It’s hard to avoid working with any one person.”

  I could see the anger drain away from her face as she fought against it. “It’s the meds. I know it’s the meds but I still feel angry. It’s like the only emotion that’s really back.” She sighed.

  “Let me help if I can.”

  She nodded. “Just be around, but not too close.”

  “I can do that.”

  “And not so much time with—” She couldn’t bring herself to say Alice’s name, “—big nose.”

  “Humor is coming back.”

  “That was sarcasm,” she grinned.

  “Close enough for now.”

  Hannah and I were standing about ten feet apart smiling at each other when Charlotte arrived.

  Collecting soil samples around the colony site made me uneasy. Kneeling in the street scooping dirt into sample bags felt too much like the Margo Islands. More than once I thought I heard a voice behind me that sounded like Sergeant McKellar or the sound of feet on gravel. After a couple of hours I went back to the vacant structure that we were building out as a lab and dormitory. Charlotte was there having completed the interviews.

  “Done already, Ted?”

  “Just needed a break. Hannah and Sipa?” I asked.

  “I think Sipa is still walking through the fields south of town and Hannah went to listen in on the negotiations. I was headed there myself once I finish this report. Why don’t you come along and sit with us for a while?”

  “OK. How were the interviews?”

  “Read over my shoulder. I want to finish this and get over to the Hetman’s chambers.”

  “So,” I asked as we walked through town to the courthouse, “you talked to all three women for almost two hours and then concluded that everything they told you was a lie.”

  “Let’s just say that I don’t take them at face value. Except maybe Buna. She was the only one that seemed to think that this wasn’t the most perfect, supportive, serene society God ever created.”

  “It would make sense that she’s bitter. She was the Hetman’s favorite for several years. Now he has a new toy to play with.”

  “You say that like it is acceptable to treat another person like a toy and discard them when they grow tiresome.”

  “I’m not saying that. It’s hateful. But I thought you were supposed to be objective and non-judgmental as an anthropologist.”

  “Not in this case. I need to judge whether these people can become part of the Union.”

  We reached the courthouse and Charlotte shoved the heavy door open forcefully.

  “Careful there! Don’t let it escape.” The Hetman’s four guards were looking under the chairs and behind furniture in the antechamber. Each was armed with a large bottle of water.

  I looked around, not seeing anything. “What are you hunting?”

  “Tarakana. There was one right under the couch but it vanished when you two came in.”

  I looked around again. “How big are they?”

  “About this big.” He spread his arms far apart. “Forty kilos or so.”

  “How can something that size hide in a room this small?”

  “Ho! Here it is!” One of his companions called. He sprayed water into the corner. The wall and floor seemed to shimmer and detach themselves as the creature hiding there writhed and changed colors.

  “Hit it again!” More water was sprayed and the Tarakana rolled on its side, six long legs flailing. I couldn’t tell if the legs had multiple articulations or were more like tentacles. It was in obvious distress.

  “Stop! Why are you doing that?” I grabbed his arm.

  “Because it’s fun.” He shook his arm free. “See the colors change? The more water you spray on it the faster it tries to change and the legs go flying around and those two tentacles on its head start to waving. Sometimes they even make a little squealing sound. If we can get it wet enough all at once it will die, but you don’t want to do that right away.” He sprayed it again while the others laughed.

  “Whoa, there he goes again!” The Tarakana rolled to its feet and started to run. I opened the door and it disappeared outside, moving with surprising speed.

  “Hey! Why did you do that?”

  “Because it was fun,” I answered.

  The two of us were glaring at each other when the Hetman and Angela arrived, responding to the noise of the Tarakana hunt.

  “What is all this?” he demanded.

  “We had a Tarakana trapped until this citizen,” he indicated
me, “let it escape.”

  “There are more important worries today. Go outside. The lot of you, outside.” He turned to me as his guards left. “You like our little pets, huh? Great fun aren’t they?”

  “They’re amazing,” I answered. “How much do you know about them?”

  “They live in the hills.” He waved his hands dismissively. “Sometimes they wander into town and we have some sport with them. I have a couple in the cold storage if you would like to cut them up and see what is inside. Don’t eat them though, the taste is disagreeable and causes nightmares.”

  I looked at Angela. “We need Jake.”

  She nodded. “We’ll have the rest of the team down here tomorrow. I want you to finish fitting out the dorms so we’re not wasting fuel running back and forth to Star every day. Charlotte, you help and I’ll send a couple of the others. Find Sipa and draft him as well.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Charlotte replied and we stepped back out on to the street. The guards were still wandering around the square watching us as we walked back toward the landing pad.

  “I don’t think you made any friends there.”

  “They are vicious and cruel and they had to be stopped.”

  “I think I’ll add that line to my report.” She glanced over her shoulder and at the crumbling buildings around us. “They certainly picked an appropriate name for this place, didn’t they?”

  “How’s that?”

  “Cleavus. He was a historical figure although he probably never actually existed. Now it refers to anyone who blames their criminal behavior on a lifetime that’s ‘dogged by poverty and hard luck’.”

  “Yeah, that seems appropriate.”

  Sipa was waiting for us when we arrived and Horace and Peter showed up a few minutes later. We built bunks, assembled portable wall sections and tried to get the three hundred year old toilets to work.

  “I suppose we can just walk up to the shuttle whenever someone needs to go.” We all looked at the remains of what had once been a bathroom.

  “Star?” Charlotte said. “Next shuttle that comes down have them throw in three portable toilets please.”

  “Consider it done.”

  We were finished by the time Angela, Velena, Giz and Hannah arrived.

  “I’d like to have dinner here before we go back to the ship for the night. Are we set up to produce synthetics?” Angela asked

  “We are,” Horace answered. “I tested it myself.”

  “When we return tomorrow morning be prepared for a two week stay.”

  Angela briefed us on the negotiations while we ate under the glare of portable light panels.

  “Hetman Skorzeny is acting like we owe him every perk and luxury imaginable. I don’t see us reaching an agreement anytime soon.”

  “But what is his leverage?” Giz asked. “Will he refuse to leave? He is counting on your concern for the people here, your desire to bring them back. We don’t have to, you know.”

  “I think you misjudge him,” Hannah added. “What I heard was genuine concern to make a better life for his people.”

  “We can’t leave three-hundred and fifty people in these conditions,” Angela acknowledged.

  “I don’t believe there are that many here,” Sipa commented. “The acreage they have cultivated wouldn’t support half that number.”

  “They have the printer as well. The Hetman claims to be using agricultural waste to feed it.”

  “Even so, it is not enough unless they have another source of food they’re not telling us about. Otherwise if there are more than a hundred here I would be surprised.”

  We ate in silence for a minute.

  “We should leave them here,” Charlotte said.

  “Your opinion has already been noted,” Angela reminded her.

  “Ted, tell us about the Tarakana, about how they treated it,” Charlotte asked me.

  I related the story, the cruelty and the anger when I let it escape. “We’ll know more about them once Jake gets down and examines the two they already tortured to death this week.”

  “I’ve seen you kill a spider, Ted, and be happy about it. How is this different?” Hannah asked.

  “I didn’t pull its legs off one at a time to take pleasure from its suffering.”

  “You are holding the Hetman and his people to an impossible standard. The factors you see as cruelty are what let them survive on their own for three hundred years.” I could see the anger in her face.

  “Thank you, Hannah,” Angela took Hannah’s hand and pulled her back down into her seat. “Good point.”

  Charlotte touched my leg and whispered to me, “It’s still the meds, Ted. You know how she loves to be contrary in every meeting. Now she’s going to disagree with whatever you say, no matter how bizarre. Give it a few more weeks.” I sighed and finished my dinner.

  The next morning it felt good to be walking away from the town, dressed for field work. Star had located an area about three kilometers outside town where there should be a good outcrop showing layers of evaporates and limestone. It looked promising in the remote sensor images but I wanted to see it myself and collect samples to determine the age of each layer to plug into my simulation.

  The first Tarakana joined me about a kilometer out of town. Two kilometers out and there were eight or ten of them walking along with me and I was able to see what they looked like more clearly. The main body was about a meter long with a thick bump of a ‘head’ at the front with no visible eyes. They didn’t have a tail. A pair of tentacles nearly as long as the body were attached at the base of the head ending in a flattened elliptical tip about twenty centimeters long. They held these aloft, the tips constantly rotating back and forth as their six legs easily kept pace with me.

  There was something about having them there that made me happy. There was nothing threatening about it, it was more like being out for a walk with a group of friends.

  I tried talking to them. “Hello, there,” I called, half expecting them to answer hello back. They turned the tips of their tentacles toward me for a second and we walked on.

  I reached my survey site after an hour cutting cross country and looked down into the ravine. Too steep to climb down, I sat down on a rock to take a break before scouting for an easier way to the bottom. From there I could try to work my way back up high enough to examine the layers.

  The Tarakana gathered around me to see what I was doing. They scurried back a bit when I pulled out my canteen, seeming to know how their comrades had been treated by the colonists. “It’s OK,” I reassured them, “this is for me.” They came closer, watching me drink. By the time I put the canteen away a couple of them had sat down next to me, legs tucked in under them somewhere.

  “I’m really sorry about the way they treat you,” I told them. “I’m not like that, most of us aren’t like that.” I smiled at them, watching the tentacles waving and tips rotating.

  Then one of them touched my hand. It felt warm and the general happy, friendly feeling that I had while walking with them was magnified tenfold.

  “Oh, I wish you hadn’t done that.” I looked at my hand, expecting it to be turning black or purple or something before it fell off. There were more of them coming now.

  “Jake?” I called, “Can you hear me?”

  Jake’s voice answered in my ear. “Sure. What’s up?”

  “One of the Tarakana touched me.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, there are a bunch of them here and we were having a pretty good time, just walking along together, me talking to them. I really like them, they’re friendly, but when the one touched me it was like this weird feeling came over me, like they really like me too.”

  “Are you on your way back?” Jake sounded concerned. “There could be some chemical in their skin that’s doing that to you.”

  “No, I’m OK here.
I think if they were hostile they could just overwhelm me, there’s so many of them.”

  “How many?”

  “I don’t know, twenty maybe. I’ll show you.”

  I pulled my pad out of the pack and panned it around. “See them all?”

  “That’s more than twenty, Ted. There must be at least fifty.

  “Yeah, they keep coming. We’re all best friends now. Oh. Another one touched me.” I laughed.

  “I’m coming to help you. Do you still have the gun Velena gave you? You might need it to get out of there.”

  “No, stay there. I’ve got it but I don’t need it. I’m OK, really. I just wanted someone to know what was going on.”

  “So I know where to come and collect your body?”

  “Something like that. I’ll call for you if anything bad happens.”

  “Ted, I’m working on dissecting one of them right now. I’m finding a lot of weird structures. These aren’t just animals.”

  “I’m not surprised. There’s a couple of them touching me right now. It’s strange. I’m going to go walk with them now.”

  “Damn it, Ted, if you die out there Angela’s going to blame me for letting it happen.”

  “No worries. I’ll be in touch.”

  I got up and walked with the Tarakana along the edge of the ravine going south. We came to an area where the bank dropped low, providing an easy trail to the bottom. I turned to walk back north toward the cliff face Star had identified but they had other ideas. They touched my hands and leaned against my legs until I understood. We walked south less than a kilometer to where erosion had carved the side of the ravine into a series of stair steps, each capped by limestone preserving the layer of evaporates underneath.

  “You guys are the best,” I told them. I reached out and touched the tip of one of their tentacles and held it for a second. It seemed to make them happy. I worked the rest of the day, taking measurements, recording strike and dip angles and taking samples of each layer. Most of the Tarakana had drifted away by the time I was done, leaving just six that had spent the day with me, sometimes keeping their tips pointed at me, sometimes seeming to sleep, the tentacles lying flat along their sides.