The Loneliness of Stars
Copyright Z. M. Wilmot 2011
In memory of Rebecca J. Quint
1990-2010
Rest in Peace
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
1
“I walked through the slums of Raheera once. It is a filthy place, a dung-heap in the middle of a beautiful oasis. It is really a shame that the only feasible place for the Docks was in the slums – if only we had known before they arose, then we might have had a respectable spaceport, where rancid beggars did not pull at your clothes, begging for that which they did not deserve.”
~Raul de Simonez, 102nd President of Baja, in his speech proposing the clearing of the Raheeran slums
My name is Jak. If you want to know my full name, it’s Jakken Jalhalla Servidos. I was born in the Lower Docks of Raheera, in Baja, the “greatest” country on Earth. I was the fourth of fourteen children, raised by an alcoholic mother and an abusive father.
Sounds like a fun life, doesn’t it? My parents could scarcely pay for themselves, let alone fourteen children. It’s a miracle none of us died, when we hardly ever had clean water to drink or any food to eat. We were forced to go scrounging for scraps when we were only little scamps, but the damned maintenance and disposal squads in Raheera were too good at their jobs. They hardly left anything for us, and half the time we ended up just plundering their dumps anyway. The food there got all mushy and inedible, but we had to make do.
As soon as I was old enough to get a work permit, I did. I got it surprisingly quickly, too – I guess the pompous scumbags who run the Occupation Authority didn’t want me stinking up their place for too long. I remember going out and applying for my first job that same day, at the Raheeran Docks: the largest set of starship docks on the planet. As a little kid I used to hang out down there to avoid my parents – not to mention the rest of my family – and watch all of the famous starfarers go by. To me, an adventurer and explorer at heart, they were heroes, carving out the vast frontier of space, making it ready for human habitation. David Steinros, Darius Ochenko, Kailash Beldron, Dania Bedenka, Jeremiah Korzos – I would stare at them, open-mouthed, whenever they walked by. My best friend, Peet, would always smack me when I let it hang open for too long. I appreciated that, because it kept the flies out. You’d think that with all the technology we’d developed that we’d have somehow gotten rid of the pests by now, but nope, they’re still just as numerous as they ever were – if not even more so.
Anyway, I went to apply for a job there, loading stuff onto and off of the starships. There’d been a big scandal down there recently, and they’d gotten rid of a bunch of their staff. They were only too happy to take me in, and they barely looked at my background or experience. I was to become a “schlepper” – one of the people that move cargo around. They wouldn’t let me start out loading the ships directly, much to my disappointment – they set me to sorting incoming goods instead.
I spent most of my time at the Docks, working overtime, even if I knew I wasn’t going to get paid. I hated life at home that much. I often slept down there, too – it was much quieter. You weren’t woken up in the middle of the night by shattering glass and the sound of beatings in the room next door.
After only a few months of work, I got promoted to loading the ships themselves. It was, at that time, the best day of my life – finally being able to walk on board the actual ships! Sure, it was only the cargo hold, but I was still on a starship! I cherished every moment on the job, and I was always daydreaming, imagining that I was on the crew, taking the ships to distant planets and unexplored star systems.
That was how I got to hear of the Ambassador. Not from the public news holos – anyone worth anything knows the people who appear on them are all brainless pawns, paid off by the big corporations. No, I heard talk and rumors while I was working, of a big ship coming through the Lower Docks. It was September the sixteenth if I recall, in 3245 since the year of our Lord, when I ran across one of the Docks’ managers talking to the owner of the ship. I walked closer, hiding behind the crate I was lugging. The owner said that a ship called the Ambassador was coming in, and needed to be stocked for a journey of indefinite length. It was going to investigate some strange signals coming from a distant group of stars, and would be supporting a multi-planetary crew. The manager said he would put my boss, Jorge, on getting it ready immediately.
I was ecstatic. Most of the ships that came through the Lower Docks weren’t going more than a few stars away, but this one was really going places, and carrying important people! I slept at the Docks for a week after that, helping Jorge get ready.
The Ambassador docked at 14:32, October the second. I was waiting for it; I had been doing so for at least three hours. It was an hour and a half late. Jorge, Phurb, Doof, Felicité, and I, the top loading team in the Lower Docks, got to work immediately. I kept an eye on the door that led to the interior of the ship the whole time, hoping to catch a glimpse of the helmsman.
And I did. He had a black patch over his left eye, as well as a massive, unkempt red beard and an equally intimidating moustache. It looked like a painted rat was attacking his face. I was… unimpressed, to say the least. I saw a few other members of the crew, as well, but did not mark their appearances in as much detail. They weren’t important – at least not to me.
We finished loading two days later. I actually paid attention to the servile pawns on the news holos, and learned that the Ambassador was bound for a group of seven stars, called the Seven Seas, from which scientists had been picking up electromagnetic signals at a strange frequency. The ship was going to investigate it, and try to find the source of the signals. Everyone was excited because they thought there might be some kind of intelligent life giving off those signals. I was doubtful; we had never found any sentient life anywhere else, no matter how worked up people got about it.
I also learned more about the crew in the days we spent loading the ship. It was to be a joint effort by all of the planets and nations under the Terran Home Rule, with the top offices on board the ship to be taken from various countries and planets. I cheered aloud on the street corner when I saw who the captain was to be: Jeremiah E. Korzos. He was from Namibia, Baja’s rival for world power. Not caring much for the country that treated my family and me the way it did, I had never had any problem with loving this outsider. He was my favorite of all the starship captains whose lives I followed. Korzos had been on the team that discovered the inhabitable world Pallas as first mate, and had led the famous expedition to the star Arannis.
The first mate was to be Henry Mather, a man from the poorest and most hated country on Earth: America. Though from a universally reviled nation, Mather had risen above all of the obstacles placed in his path to become one of the most famous starship captains of all time. The helmsman was named Fineas Sparten – he was from Egypt. The report did not have much else to say about him. His name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place where I had heard it before.
The only other name I recognized was Menthus Crydgar, the ship’s designated commando and guardian. He was one of the most famous commandoes in the Bajan army, and he was to be our representative on this expedition. I wondered if Crydgar and Korzos were going to be able to live together on the same ship without one murdering the other; it was well known that they hated each other, even more than the leaders of their respective countries did.
It was after I heard the name of the captain that I made my decision: I was going to stow away. I packed a crate full of food for myself, stealthily added it to the ship’s inventory list as “Misselaneous Goods” (I learned how to spell later), and parked it in an out of the way
location, a dark corner under a platform in the main cargo hold. I planned to hide behind it until it was too late to turn back. And if they just decided to space me, so be it. Even space had to be better than life in Raheera.
When the day came for them to leave, I rechecked their inventory – Jorge had conveniently put me in charge of that – reported the results (all clear!), and said I was going home. As soon as Jorge’s back was turned, I hid. I worked my way through the crates to my corner. I had stacked the crates in such a way as to give myself a hidden shelter. I brought what little belongings I had in a pack. I placed them on the floor beside me, sat down, and waited.
A few hours of bored waiting later, the ship began to vibrate. I heard the engine hum, and then I felt it move. I could barely contain my excitement – I just wished I could see out one of the viewports. I imagined the scene, with myself as the captain, standing heroically on the bridge, while the crowd outside cheered me on, tearful women waved goodbye, and silly awestruck boys stared up at us open-mouthed, wishing they could come along. I blew a raspberry in the direction I thought they must be standing. I was going on an adventure, and they were all stuck back in Baja, forced to continue living their dull, boring, everyday lives.
Then the ship’s orbital escape engines kicked in. I was thrown against one of the crates, and I was glad that I had secured it so well. I found myself unable to move as I was pressed against it. It was then that I began to think, for the first time, in a truly rational way about what I had done. I had broken the law, climbed aboard a ship going who-knows-where, and I was probably going to die. My heart fell into my stomach, and I began to feel sick. My thoughts dwelt on my stupidity until the pressure eased off, and I was again able to move.
Then I forgot all about my worries and doubts, and my adventure began.
2
“I’ll take care of the boy, and bring him up as if he was my own – his father was a good friend of mine, he was. The boy shall never want for anything, and I will teach him the ways of the wandering chef – though I will refrain from teaching him the ways of my faith, at your request, dear sirs, as that would not be in accordance with our agreement.”