Laura Garrison is moving slowly from the north to the south, like a glacier. Her fiction and poetry occasionally surface in various locations. She is currently the Associate Editor at Jersey Devil Press.
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Past Another Sky
by Scott Birrenkott; published July 16, 2013
Second Place Award, July 2013 Fiction Contest
The shuttle came down as a blaze from the distant sun. I watched it slow in an instant, landing just outside the town and beyond my view. Above me, just past the hazy atmosphere that didn’t belong on this moon, was the outline of the ship the shuttle had come from. I wouldn’t have even known the ship was there if not for the way it blocked out the stars. I tried to guess at why Earth had sent such a ship to this place, our moon being nothing but another humble claim to space, but I already knew too well.
A creaking vibration reminded me where I was, and where I was going. I made my way through the town and decided the background noise was more of a rickety hum than a true creaking. The sound didn’t bother me much but I could never quite ignore it, either. There was also the constant, stubborn mist that fell over the entire town, but I had a good firm hat and duster for that.
Bright white lights shined from where they were perched on poles, guiding me through the town. Mixed with the lights there was a bluish tint to the air that gave everything a much-needed liveliness. Without it the shuttered homes were as gray as the earth. Sometimes a little life would make itself known, with a tomato plant or stalk of corn peeking out from behind one of the fortified gardens that were hidden on the roof of every structure.
I hesitated with a cigarette outside the mayor’s house. I didn’t think she’d mind if I smoked but I put the roll away anyway. I could always change my mind later.
When I went inside the mayor was behind her wooden desk. It was nice, carved and varnished and everything, probably the only bit of luxury tree in the whole town. She was sitting there working, and I knew she had heard me come in, so I waited for her to finish.
“You saw the shuttle come down, no doubt,” she said without looking up, putting one data slate aside and reaching for another.
“Big ship for such a small place,” I said, looking up as if I’d be able to see the craft again.
“The Worldbridge.” The mayor nodded, holding up one of her slates to scrutinize it more closely.
“Pardon?”
She ignored me. Her eyes continued to scan the slate, back and forth, narrowing as they moved. After she finished, or was content enough to stop, the mayor put the slate down and turned to me.
“The Worldbridge. That’s the name of that particular ship, the one that burned more fuel than our whole town is probably worth to get here.”
“For one man to get here, I’d wager.” I wanted to wonder why, but I reminded myself that I already knew. Or that I ought to know.
“Better one man than a whole lot of them,” the mayor said. She pushed her chair back to walk around her desk, and I watched her move, taking her in as she looked away.
Her dark crimson dress was smooth on her body. It was particular to her figure, and I followed it down to her legs where it opened at the sides. The dress was flashy, fancy even, and its gold embroidery was elaborate enough. Perhaps a man of class would have appreciated it, maybe even on another world one would scoff at the dress’s modesty, but the entire perky outfit was too much for me.
Mayor Escle was pretty enough and I’d have rather seen her out of the whole garment than try to appreciate her in it, to have the truth of it. When she turned back to me I had to keep my eyes from speculating over that particular fantasy, though. Such a thing would be insulting, disrespectful. Instead, I hid my desires by pushing a cig to my lips.
I hadn’t lasted very long, though smoking was a lesser disrespect and one I didn’t care as much to hide. The mayor noticed it all the same; she brushed her hand over her desk and tapped at it lightly as she regarded this particular affront.
Escle moved beside a glossy table to the side of her desk. It wasn’t wooden, but was a good replica. I wasn’t sure how I could tell it was fake, possibly because of how close it was to the solid wood desk it shared the room with. Either way, I was far more interested in what it held.
“Drink?” Escle offered.
“I wouldn’t refuse.”
The mayor took out two solid glasses and pondered over a variety of old bottles. She certainly had the best drink, distilled from far off world, from Earth, even. I could tell by the bottle she chose and by its sweetly stinging scent as she poured it. I tried to keep my glance casual, though it was futile. My glistening obsession couldn’t be concealed. Not that it needed to be, the mayor knew me well enough.
Escle regarded me coolly as she let the bottle waver over the second glass.
“A man really shouldn’t tempt himself with such vices. I’ll take that burden for you, Sheriff.”
She poured again, only once more into the first glass instead of mine. Then she downed most of it in one take.
“That shuttle,” Escle said, half to herself. She circled back around her desk and glanced out the window behind it. “You know why it’s here?” She turned back to me.
I nodded.
“And you know why you’re here?” She swirled the remains of her drink.
“S’pose I could assume that, too. Though I never make more than one. Assumption, that is. Matters start to get tricky past one.”
“I’d like you to receive Earth’s marshal from his shuttle.”
“He should be able to find his way without me.”
Escle swallowed the rest of her drink and glared at the empty glass.
“He certainly could. But you’ll agree he’s here for a problem we should have sorted out on our own, yes?”
I said nothing, and she paused to wait. After a moment Escle returned the glass to its table. She considered the bottle for another fill before pushing it away and turning back to stare me down.
“This is the tricky part,” I said.
“Marshal’s here to kill a man.” She tapped her finger on the desk. “I want you to go with him.”
“Marshal can take care of himself.”
“No doubt. But I want him to know the town takes care of its own.” Escle leaned over her desk.
I tossed the remains of my cig aside to let her know I understood, and what I thought of it.
“Town already decided what to do about this problem. That’s why the marshal’s here at all.”
“The marshal’s here to remind us who’s in charge. Walsh was our problem, but he ran off. He wanted his own law, and he can wander off past the sky and make it there for all I care.” Escle tapped harder at her desk. “Even if we had marched out and dragged him back, what could we have done? Now he’s gone and got Earth’s attention, and we can’t rightly ignore him anymore.”
I kept quiet. I had nothing to say on that matter. Escle knew how I dealt with Walsh at the time he went wrong, and there was no point bringing it up now.
“Damn, man, I’d do it myself.” Escle clenched her fist and stared at her family’s pistol where it was propped up on her desk. I imagined if she still held her glass she would have smashed it at this point. “I’m trying to maintain our way of life here. My time’s invested in other matters.”
“I know you got a lot of people to please, lots of choices to make. If that’s how you need to justify this, I’ll go.” I nodded and made to leave.
“Like hell. I’m not saying I’m right, just that I’m the one who got stuck in the place to decide what is.”
“Walsh too, then.” I turned back around. I shouldn’t have said that, it was one assumption too far, but I let my frustrations get the better of me.
“He gave up rights to that claim when he raped that girl.”
I couldn’t argue there. Walsh had given up a lot of things when he took to that sin, but he was a decent man before that. Before the tension and politics that had left his younger sister in c
harge instead of him, and before the disgrace he had surely felt after. Still, it was best not to argue.
So that was it. I was to be the vicarious killer. To lay this long lingering shame to rest, and to give Escle some peace that she had taken a part in it.
“I should be going.” I brushed my side to be sure my weapon was still there and to let the mayor know I was aware of its importance.