Bright Star

by Nickie Anderson

We walked through the fading daylight, the night sky focusing into a brilliant shower of stars. The extra food and medicine had done wonders for Baruj. Though he walked slowly, he no longer leaned on me for support. I hobbled along behind him and Cantara. My new shoes were nice, but my feet were still sore from the previous days of mistreatment.

  “Why are you helping us?” I asked Cantara.

  She shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I? We all have to help each other. I wouldn’t be here if someone didn’t help me.”

  Baruj glanced sideways, studying her. “Who helped you?”

  “My mother,” she said, her voice tight. “And your mother, too, Sadira. You saw how I am the youngest in Bawiti?”

  It had struck me as odd before, and her statement confirmed that my gut reaction was right.

  “What Asif and Miriam did not say was that Central excluded children, too. You can imagine how far most of them got here in the badlands, with no help, no adults. I remember... it’s confusing. I remember coughing a lot, having a fever. My mother was sick, too. We went to the gate. There were other people there. We walked for such a long time, and it was so hot.”

  She inhaled sharply and paused, staring at the sky. “Miriam said she found me in my mother’s arms, crying. She said I was so dehydrated there were no tears. I don’t remember when my mother fell. I just remember being brought back to Bawiti and being taken care of there.”

  Baruj placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “It’s fine. I don’t remember much of my mother, or getting here, only little pieces. But this is why I will help you. It is the right thing to do.”

  Baruj lowered his hand from Cantara’s shoulder and offered her his arm. She took it, a smile growing on her face. I bit back a laugh. Baruj had been staring at her since he first awoke in Bawiti. I couldn’t blame him. Between her rich, chocolate skin and large brown eyes, she was beautiful.

  After an hour of walking, when the heavens had gone from a deep blue to an inky blue-black, Baruj spotted the oasis in the distance. It sat below us, some distance ahead, in a basin in the earth. We stood on a ridge that formed a crescent, sloping down about ten meters to a small oasis with tufts of palm trees. To the right of the oasis was a shadow, a specter eclipsing the landscape behind it. I could only make out silvery-blue letters that glittered in the moonlight. CAS Bright Star.

  I let out a small yelp, jumping in the air. My heart leaped with my legs. “You’ve found it!” After all the walking, all the pain, the hovership sat within reach, perhaps a hundred yards ahead. I sprang forward, ready to run down to the ship, down to Papa, but Baruj halted suddenly. “Get down,” he whispered.

  I opened my mouth to ask why, but then heard the steady hum of hovership reactor coils. I fell to the ground, and Cantara followed suit. A small ship shot through the sky, then settled down at the oasis, just to the right of the Bright Star. A cloud of sand kicked up as the bottom of the ship kissed the earth. The doors opened, releasing a dozen Central soldiers, guns at their sides. Baruj motioned for us to crawl closer to the oasis, silently sliding along in the sand.

  This ship was larger than the Bright Star, but not by much. Its dark green body tapered to a fine point at the end. A 3000 series, probably a C model. Fast, but not nearly as fast as the Bright Star. Gold paint graced the side of the ship in strong letters—CAS Altair.

  I squinted, struggling to make out the soldiers in the dim light of the night sky. There was something off about the way the men stood. Their legs were too long from knee to foot, and limbs stuck at stiff, awkward angles. The men gathered in a line, and a whirring noise followed their every step.

  Cantara’s eyes went wide with wonder, but Baruj cursed.

  “They have ExoShells.”

  Once he named the difference, I could see the shimmering light on the metal bars strapped to the soldiers’ bodies, the hoses in their throats feeding them extra oxygen. My heart sank. ExoShells gave the soldiers extra strength and speed, the endurance to fight and survive in the badlands. Their alien bodies, an unnatural pairing of human and machine, stood awaiting orders.

  “Secure the ship.”

  Half of the guards walked up to the Bright Star, surrounding it. One attached a small device to the side of the ship. I squinted to make it out, but from the distance I could only tell that it was round and blinked red light. The light pulsed, shifting from red to green, and the door of the ship unfolded. The soldiers streamed on board, their footsteps thudding on the metal alloy floors.

  A few minutes later, one soldier walked back out of the ship.

  “It’s clear, Captain. No sign of the crew.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. On the one hand, I had hoped against hope that Papa was just that short distance below me. On the other hand, I was glad that Central hadn’t caught up to him yet.

  “Thank you, Pireldi. Let’s form up, gentlemen.” The rest of the soldiers marched out of the ship and stood in an orderly line, their heads held high and glistening green guns at their sides. “I didn’t expect the crew to be on board, and they didn’t disappoint. I doubt they’re far from here, given the supplies they had on hand at the time of departure. We go the rest of the way on foot. I have it on good authority that our target has navigation and communication jamming capabilities, and we don’t need to risk our hovership. Plus, we maintain the element of surprise.”

  The cold, smooth voice sent a shiver down my spine. “That’s Captain Berings,” I whispered to Baruj.

  “Are you sure?”

  The soldier shouting instructions turned, and I caught a glimpse of his glowing green eyes.

  “I’m certain.”

  Baruj clenched his eyes shut. “God, help us.”

  “Is that bad?” asked Cantara.

  “Very,” I replied. God, help us, indeed. I thought about my last encounter with the Captain, his clinical, calculating words. He was harsh without anger, focused and intense. In my geology class years ago, my teacher told us how canyons were created. I didn’t believe him, at first; the idea of water, simple water, dripping and pushing to cut through hard rock was too incredible.

  Captain Berings was like the water. No emotion, no fear, but always pushing forward to chip away at the rock. The lack of fire in him frightened me.

  “Our mission is to scuttle the craft. If our tech falls into the wrong hands, it could mean disaster. Don’t forget what happened in Antalya.”

  The men nodded somberly. Antalya? The name didn’t sound familiar, but I knew it must have some significance. I made a note to ask Baruj about it later.

  “Bring the crew home alive, if possible. The Colonel wants them for questioning. If they put up a fight... well, you won’t be suspended for any unfortunate accidents. The only one we must bring back is Mr. Pascal. He only needs to be able to speak.”

  Baruj’s face turned pale, and my heart sank under the weight of the Captain’s words. He gave them permission to kill the pilots and hurt Papa.

  “Finally, once the targets have been captured or neutralized, we’ve been given orders to flush out any badlanders we find.” This time, Cantara cringed. “Our intel says there’s a village in the ruins about five klicks from here. We’ll make an aerial pass, then neutralize any stragglers on foot. Any questions?”

  The men stood silently. “Good. Make sure your gear is on securely. If you screen for plague, I’ll burn you with the village.”

  One soldier laughed nervously until he realized no one else chuckled. He began fiddling with his ExoShell, making sure there were no gaps in the equipment.

  “Three of you stay here to maintain a perimeter on the ship in case the crew comes back for supplies. Four of you, follow Lt. Donovan and search north. The rest, follow me. We’ll be searching south. Twenty-minute check-ins for everyone, and we’ll regroup here in two hours. Understood?”

  Each soldier gave a sharp, mechanical nod.

  “Move!” the Captain shouted. The men broke into their groups and began walkin
g off, their robot-bodies moving at an incredible speed.

  Baruj trembled, an earthquake of anger. “Those sons of bi—” He stopped when he saw Cantara staring at him. “I can’t believe I volunteered to be a Central soldier.” His voice was choked with ire. “Sadira, we need a new plan.”

  “I know.”

  He spoke quickly, firmly. “Cantara, go back to Bawiti and warn everyone. Be quiet, and be careful. You don’t want to face these soldiers if you don’t have to. It doesn’t matter how young you are. They’ll shoot a child if they think they have to.”

  Her voice came out weak and breathless. “I’ll go.” She scanned the basin, but the soldiers were well out of sight. She jumped up and ran, quickly vanishing into the black night.

  “So where do we go from here?” Baruj asked. “We’ve found the ship. Where do you think they went?”

  I pulled the crystal radio out of my pocket. It glowed brighter than before, almost as brightly as our lightbands. The steady, white light streamed out, and the box vibrated continuously.

  “It’s been humming more as we’ve kept walking. And look how much brighter it is than yesterday.” Baruj’s eyes met mine, and I knew he understood what I was driving at.

  “Dr. DeWitt said they were linked, right?”

  “Mmm hmm. I think maybe the crystals can sense each other.”

  “So the closer we get to your father, the brighter it should get?”

  “That’s what I think.” That’s what I pray. We had nothing else to go on. If this didn’t lead me to Papa, I didn’t know what could.

  “Which way?” asked Baruj.

  I walked a slow circle around him, studying the light from the crystal radio. A few steps to the right, and the dim light grew slightly brighter. Baruj grinned.

  “I think you’ve found the way.”

  We walked, slowly at first, staring at the crystal, picking our path carefully. As we moved farther, the path became clearer, and the crystal hummed, resonating with energy. In the darkness I could just make out a mountain, a black spire cutting through a field of stars.

  “I think the crystal’s taking us there.”

  Baruj nodded in agreement. We continued, faster now, only checking the radio occasionally. The closer we walked to the mountain, the brighter and louder the radio became. As we neared the base of the mountain, the radio began to vibrate even harder, shaking in my hand.

  I paused, scanning the area. “We must be close.”

  I flicked on my lightband, shining it on the base of the rocks. Baruj did the same, illuminating the mountain with the lightband’s blue glow.

  “Here,” he said. “There’s a little opening under this rock.” I studied the spot he pointed to, and there was a very small hole in the side of the mountain. Baruj would barely slip through it. Even I would have to wriggle a bit. The thought of squeezing myself in a hole when I had no idea what stood on the other side frightened me.

  It didn’t seem to bother Baruj, though. He dropped to his hands and knees and slid down without hesitation. A moment later, a thump and a groan reached my ears.

  “Baruj! Are you OK?”

  “Yeah.” His voice echoed back up to me. “Come on down. It’s not a big drop, maybe a meter. There’s a whole room down here.”

  I groaned. I didn’t want to have to squeeze myself through a small space like that, but if it meant finding Papa I would do anything.

  “I’m lowering my pack down first.” Begrudgingly, I forced myself into the opening. If Baruj made it through, I could make it through. The stone walls scraped my legs, and the darkness of the tunnel enveloped me, but with a little more pushing, I was able to lower myself all the way down.

  The room was more of a small cavern, stalactites dripping from the ceiling. I slung my knapsack over my shoulders and surveyed the room. It wasn’t quite as dark as I expected. The opening we entered let in some moonlight, and between our two lightbands and the crystal radio, the cave walls glistened with light. A tunnel led deeper into the mountain where it was pitch dark.

  “Let’s go,” I said, flashing my lightband into the tunnel ahead of me. Baruj followed closely behind. The tunnel quickly opened into another even larger room. Unlike the cavern, this was an actual room—no stalactites, no lumpy, uneven floors, just smooth stone walls carved into a rectangular shape. A small blue light shone in the corner, illuminating the otherwise dark room. All three crewmembers were there. Two squatted in the corner, mumbling in low voices. A third lay on the ground, his feet propped up by a bag. I immediately recognized one of the squatting men, tall, lanky, in a dingy white shirt, Papa. My heart jumped out of my chest, and blood surged through my head. Papa.

  A man jumped up, his gun pointed at me.

  “Who are you?” His hair and clothes were sticky, matted with sweat; a thick beard circled the face that had been closely shorn a week ago. Even then, his resemblance to Baruj was clear. Naeem. The gun shook unsteadily in his hand, wavering as my face came into view.

  Papa looked up. “Sadira! Naeem, put down your gun.” He ran to me, grabbing me by the shoulders. “Are you okay? How did you get here? Why didn’t you stay in Samalut? Where is Dr. DeWitt?”

  His questions overwhelmed me. Tears filled my eyes. “I had to find you.”

  “Who helped you?” he asked. “Did you make it through the desert on your own?”

  “No, no. There’s a village, and Miriam is there, and they need—”

  Papa gasped. “Miriam? Your mother? Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. She gave me her ring.” I stuck out my hand, and Papa stared, his face blanching.

  “I hoped—I never knew, but I hoped.” He turned his face toward the ceiling and sighed.

  Baruj slipped into the room, and Naeem’s jaw dropped.

  “Baruj? Baruj!”

  “Naeem!” Baruj pulled Naeem into a tight bear hug. “I can’t believe it. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again.” He laughed, but it cracked into a sob.

  Naeem pulled back and roughed up his brother’s hair. “I’m glad you found us.” He squeezed Baruj’s shoulder, and they both wiped a few glistening tears from their cheeks.

  I interrupted the reunion. “We don’t have much time. Some Central soldiers flew in, and they’re coming for you all. They only want Papa alive. We need to move.”

  Naeem shook his head. “Ben’s injured. We’re safer here than anywhere else.”

  “They won’t stop until they find us, Naeem,” Papa said.

  “Ben, do you think you can walk?”

  The man on the floor raised himself slowly from the ground. A streak of red ran along one side of his head from a jagged cut. “My legs feel fine, but I’m still a bit dizzy. I can walk, but don’t expect me to run a marathon.”

  “Sadira, how many soldiers are there?”

  “Twelve, maybe fifteen tops. They came in an C-class hovership, the 3000 series.” I was glad I paid attention to my father’s ramblings when he worked on his designs. Any knowledge we had would help us.

  “Only one ship? You’re sure it was the 3000 series?”

  I nodded. “That’s all I saw.”

  “Are they all armed?”

  “Yes,” said Baruj. “They all have ExoShells and standard issue ifrit guns.”

  My father ran his hands through his hair, making the thick dark waves stand on end. “We might be able to make this work, but we need to move now. Sadira, Baruj, can you lead us back to where their ship landed?”

  “I think so,” Baruj said. “It’s less than five kilometers from here.”

  “Ben, can you handle your gun?”

  He lifted one strong, muscled arm apprehensively. It shook with the effort, and he let his arm fall back to his side. “I don’t think I can shoot and walk at the same time.”

  “Dammit,” Papa said. I winced. Papa had always been after me to never swear, to never use words against God. It was painful to hear him use the same language Baruj sputtered out. “You’ll have to do the best you can
. Sadira, you help Naeem carry Ben. Baruj and I will cover the front. Let’s go.”

  We wriggled back out of the narrow opening of the mountain and into the sparkling desert night. The cool night air caressed my skin. I held up Ben’s left side and Naeem his right, and we stumbled along in a weird rhythm of hops. Between Ben’s weight and the weight of my knapsack, my shoulders quickly sagged.

  “It’s not far, is it?” Ben asked.

  “No, not too much farther at all.”

  “Good.” His dark skin glistened with sweat. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

  “Hang in there,” Naeem said. “We need you calm and focused. You’re the best with a gun.”

  “And you’re the best at fiddling with flight controls.”

  I stared at Ben. “What do you mean?” His eyes widened, and he bit his lip, trying to keep new words from escaping.

  “We planned this crash. Well, not the me-getting-injured part. I knew that was a possibility, though. Your father has been wanting to escape from the outpost for a while.”

  He planned to leave me? “To find my mother? He meant to come back, right?”

  “I only know part of the plan. Your father said he was handed down a project a few months ago for a device that would terminate all infected people.”

  My mind flew back to Asif’s words at the meeting. “One of the villagers told us that. He said—”

  “Villagers? What villagers?” Papa’s voice rang out sharp and stern, matching his glare. He stopped walking and turned to face me. Baruj paused, too, glancing over his shoulder at Papa and me.

  “Where Miriam was. Baruj and I were attacked by dogs, and then some people helped us...”

  His face fell as if he finally remembered something, his voice mixed with incredulity and fear. “I can’t believe I didn't ask. These people, had they been sick before?”.

  I nodded timidly. What if it had been wrong to accept their help? What if that feeling before—that maybe I shouldn’t have touched those people—what if I should have listened to that?

  Papa rubbed his temples. “You’ve not been vaccinated. Oh, Sadira—”

  I reached to touch his arm, but he pulled back. Fear rose in my chest, but I tried to ignore it. “We’ll just have to wait and see. Maybe it’s nothing. But there’s a village of these people nearby?”

  “Not for long, if we don’t hurry. The soldiers, they said they were going to bomb the village, too. Why would Central want to—terminate—” the word stuck in my throat, “those people, anyway? They keep themselves isolated. They haven’t hurt anyone.”

  “That’s not the way Central sees it,” Ben said. “Their existence alone is a problem. If they’re still contagious... you’re too young to remember how bad the plague was. My parents, they both died from fever. My little sister suffered first.” His face, already exhausted, fell with the memories of his family.

  “What Ben’s trying to say is that it was ugly,” Naeem said. “I was lucky. The outpost Baruj and I lived on never had any plague. But some nearby outposts did, and almost everyone there died. If the fever didn’t kill you, the lesions did. They’d grow in your throat, in your lungs, until you choked to death.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said to Ben. “I didn’t know.”

  “After the plague hit,” said Papa, “Central required travel passes to leave an outpost. It was the only way they could keep the plague contained.” He stood silent for a moment, scratching his chin. “The innocence of these villagers is debatable, too. But their hands are cleaner than Central’s.” He stared at me, his eyes uncertain. “You took a big risk, Sadira, but it’s too late to do anything about that now. Let’s keep moving.”

  Papa hurried back to Baruj and continued marching through the dark desert, his footprints firm and steady. I slid Ben’s arm farther up my back, pushing his slumping body up straight again.

  “How did you get out? From your outpost, I mean. After your family—”

  Ben sighed. “I was quarantined for three months, and they ran tests until they were sure I wasn’t a carrier. I was shipped off to Central’s orphanage in Messina and told that if I ever told anyone what happened to me, I would be executed.”

  “You mean excluded, right?”

  Ben shook his head. “You heard me right the first time. They killed a couple of kids who tried to talk. Lined them up in front of everyone at breakfast and just—” He mimed a gun with his fingers. “I was eight the first time it happened. There was at least one kid a year who thought he could get away.”

  My stomach twisted in revulsion. Central said they took care of us, protected us. And they shot children? From the expression on Ben’s face, I didn’t doubt his story.

  “Let’s talk about something else.”

  Ben laughed mirthlessly. “Sure. How many soldiers again?”

  He asked me to recall everything I saw and heard while observing the Altair. As he pushed me with more questions, I found the image of the ship, the Captain, the soldiers solidifying in my mind, turning from a hazy mirage to a crystal clear picture.

  “You have a sharp mind,” Ben said, clearly impressed. “Did you see which way the soldiers moved?”

  I bit my cheek, thinking for a moment. “We started to move right after they did. We didn’t want to risk being seen. I think four or so headed north, another group headed south, and a few stayed behind.

  “Good,” said Naeem. “We won’t be facing them all at once.”

  The ship appeared in the distance, an indistinct black line wriggling on the surface of the sand. I felt my senses sharpen, scanning the horizon for signs of the soldiers. Nothing yet.

  “Perhaps we should slow down a bit,” I said. Naeem nodded and paused for a moment. Ben sighed in relief. Baruj looked over his shoulder and nudged Papa. The two of them backtracked a bit to meet us.

  “All right, Mr. Sharp-Shot,” Naeem said. “Give us the lay of the land. What’s our best spot?”

  Ben licked his lips and gazed around us, studying the basin in the distance and the two ships below. A few pale boulders scattered the landscape, gleaming in the moonlight. “None of those rock formations give much cover,” he said at last.

  “Some is better than none, right?” asked Papa.

  “False security,” Ben said. “Plus, I’ll bet my right arm that a few of the Captain’s guys are already holed up back there. He’s not one for subtlety.”

  I saw a flash of dark from around one of the boulders. “Like that?”

  Ben nodded. “We have to get in range. I don’t think I’ll be a good mark from this distance, especially with this poor light. But we have to be careful.”

  Naeem and I helped Ben back up. Ben stifled a cough. “Baruj, you should head up around the east side of the ridge. See that outcropping?” He pointed to the near side of the basin. There, the ridge dropped steeply into the oasis and the flat ground cupping the two ships. “Get over there, and position yourself on the edge. Stay low and be quiet. Naeem, give me your earpiece.”

  Naeem pulled the device from his ear and placed it into Ben’s hand. “Baruj, you’ll use this since you’ll be out on your own. Mr. Pascal modified this to use a closed circuit. You’ll only hear me and him.” Baruj popped the small metal device into his ear. “Sadira, you and Naeem carry me over toward the west side. Mr. Pascal... they want you alive, right?”

  Papa nodded, and his face went white.

  “We need you to flush out the soldiers. As soon as all of them come out, get low. We want clear shots. Understood?” Papa nodded weakly.

  Flush them out? No, no, no. I tugged on Papa’s sleeve. “You’re not going down there!”

  “I have to,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “If we don’t get on that ship before the rest of the soldiers get back, we’re going to die here. We’re badly outnumbered. They’ll kill you.”

  “But not you.”

  “No.” He licked his chapped lips. “They’ll do much worse than that.” He held his chin up. “I’ll head dow
n on your signal, Ben.”

  “Come on,” Naeem said. “We need to get Ben into position.”

  I wanted to scream, kick, and protest Papa going down to the ship, but I knew better. Papa had been stone cold honest when he said the soldiers would kill me without question. I will follow Ben. I will trust him. I will help him, I thought. Maybe we’ll all live through this.