Flower-of-Sands_The Extraordinary Adventures of a Female Astronaut

by Grahame R. Smith

  ‘Over here,’ Venetia shouted. She had detached herself from the others and was exploring the nearby ground.

  ‘What is it?’ Jalaal exclaimed.

  Venetia was holding what looked like a discarded reptile skin, except that it refracted light.

  ‘Look, here is another,’ Jalaal shouted. ‘It’s a bit smaller, but seems to be made of the same substance,’ He and Venetia turned to Astral-La who was staring at the skin objects with an expression of astonishment.

  ‘Sands!’ she cried. ‘Flower-of-Sands is here on this planet. But how did she get here? Out of an entire galaxy, how did she find this planet, how did she arrive so close to us?’ She fingered the skins that Jalaal had handed to her. ‘These are smart-skins. Sands is here. Holy Mother, she is here.’

  ‘That wonderful, Astral-La,’ Venetia said. ‘It must mean there is a way back home.’

  ‘But what has happened to her, and what is the significance of these skins lying here, discarded?’ Jalaal asked. ‘And what exactly is a smart-skin.’

  ‘A smart-skin is an all-purpose, ultra-adaptable environmental protective smart-suit. You name it – it does it. My question is, if this means Sands is here, why the discarded skin, and why are there two?’

  ‘Perhaps she removed her skin when she went for a swim,’ Venetia suggested.

  Astral-La said nothing for a few moments and then spoke. ‘She is silly enough to do that, unfortunately.’

  ‘She must have been attacked before she could put on her skin. Perhaps she had a similar experience to us.’

  ‘She is virtually unbeatable in combat, despite being wacky. Something must have interfered, compromised her situation.’

  ‘Like a hundred or so armed combatants,’ Jalaal said.

  ‘She might have been protecting someone.’ Venetia had taken the smaller skin back from Astral-La and was fingering it thoughtfully.

  ‘A child. Somehow or other, she has a child with her.’

  ‘You can’t be sure of that, Astral,’ Jalaal said. ‘That is an enormous leap.’

  ‘I sense it though. I need to get into that skin, the larger one. It should adapt to me, and give me information. I might even be able to link to Sands, or gain some insight as to where she is. This is amazing!’

  Astral-la stripped off and began to slide into the skin. She grimaced as the skin reacted to the fresh host. It glowed and the light refractions increased, before going dark like a genuine dead skin.

  ‘It’s rebooting,’ Astral-La reassured her friends. ‘It won’t be long.’

  She had spoken too soon. The skin remained dark, lifeless, as if about to fade completely.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Jalaal asked anxiously.

  ‘How should I know, Jalaal. The damn thing is not responding.’

  ‘Give it time, Astral,’ Venetia spoke gently. ‘Maybe it was deeply linked to Flower. Maybe she used it a lot over a long time.’

  Astral-La said nothing; a dark mood had spread across her features.

  They sat for a long time. The sky began to dim, and a slight breeze brought a chill to the air.

  ‘It’s not going to work,’ Astral-la said finally. ‘The skin must be damaged. I need to get free of it.’

  She reached up to her head and attempted to peel back the skin so that she could step out of it. There was a small flash and the skin sizzled.

  ‘Something is happening, I can see flickering across your shoulder and neck area,’ Venetia exclaimed excitedly. ‘Maybe it needs time to reboot after lying discarded and exposed to the elements for so long. Who knows how long?’

  Astral-La scowled. ‘Yeah, that’s obvious Venetia. But this is tech unknown to Earth people, so how would you know?’

  ‘We have already developed similar tech, not as advanced, I must admit, but along these lines.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Astral-La seemed to have developed an unpleasant moodiness.

  ‘You don’t need to talk to Venetia in that manner,’ Jalaal said. ‘She is only trying to help.’

  ‘Okay sorry, but I am the one who has sat here for hours waiting for it to light up.’ She raised her arms in a gesture of futility. ‘You can try it on if you want to, Venetia. You may have better luck.’

  Venetia appeared unaffected by Astral-La’s moodiness. ‘Look, Astral, it is working.’

  Astral-La closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘You are right, Venetia. It is booting up and adapting to my physiology. Please get me some water. This is going to take a while.’

  Venetia ran to the pool, knelt, cupped her hands into the water, and ran to Astral-La. She could retain enough water in her hands to begin quenching Astral-La’s thirst. It took many returns to the pool. Astral seemed unable to move. A distant expression came over her as the skin began to access her implant structures and initiate an exchange of information.

  Night had fallen. There were distant sounds of gunfire and explosions. Occasionally, a flash lit up the surrounding hills. During the quiet intervals, the sky blazed forth vividly with stars. Splashes of silver light glowed deep over the horizon. The intensity of light was stunning and lit the landscape in eerie half-light. From behind the hills, a single moon raised majestically, its features and craters creating exotic and outlandish patterns.

  ‘The night sky in another galaxy. If only we had time to appreciate it,’ Venetia said in awe.

  Astral-La stirred. She had been still and silent a long time. Now, in the light of this alien moon and sky, she looked transformed –rejuvenated. She stretched out her arms to Venetia.

  ‘Vene, come here. I am so sorry I was horrible. I was exhausted and scared. The skin is fully functional now. It has injected me with life-giving substances, and it is teaching me a new language. And, and … guess what, it was Sands who occupied this skin.’

  ‘What!’ Venetia and Jalaal exclaimed simultaneously. Venetia added, ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Don’t make me regret being nice. Come here.’

  Venetia went over to her and they hugged.

  ‘I have so much to share with you both and show you,’ Astral spoke solemnly. ‘Flower’s escape pod is nearby. With luck, I can access it. It will provide us with much needed technology.’

  ‘Shall I get into the other skin,’ Venetia asked meekly.

  ‘You don’t need to. Not just yet. The situation has changed, somewhat.’

  ‘I’m not sure that it has.’ Jalaal stretched out an arm and pointed into the darkness ‘Look!’

  A distant column of lights was making its way across the desert.

  ‘Oh no!’ Venetia retorted. ‘Do you think they have seen us? Surely that would not have that sophisticated a technology.’

  ‘You would be surprised at the technology war can throw up.’

  As if in agreement, a small group of lights separated from the column and began crawling towards them.

  ‘Quick, Astral,’ Venetia said feverishly. ‘Jump us out of here.’

  ‘Despite your orders, Venetia, I have another idea. Get into that skin after all. We are going to allow them to take us prisoner.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Jalaal looked astonished.

  ‘I am. Everything has changed. Sands is here on this planet. Her pod is nearby, but it must have powered down. My sense is that we will never find Sands if we jump randomly. In fact, blind jumps are dangerous. We have been lucky so far, but that luck may not last. Venetia, get into that skin.’

  ‘But they could kill us, not to speak of the skin itself.’

  ‘Your skin is linked to mine, and I have already laid down the basics by remote – the skins are connected.’

  ‘What if they try to kill us like the last lot?’

  ‘I can influence that, don’t worry.’ Astral-La paused as she scanned the approaching mini military convoy. ‘My guess is that Sands has been taken prisoner – probably by this lot approaching, or by others, but at least this is a beginning. We need inside knowledge to find her. And we start here.’

 
; ‘It’s a tremendous leap,’ Jalaal said.

  ‘It’s a leap of faith we have to take. After all, we have been doing that all along.’

  ‘And what about me?’ Jalaal said, as if he were revealing a sudden discovery. ‘I have no so-called skin. What happens to me?’

  ‘Trust me,’ Astral-La whispered.

  Jalaal did not look convinced.

  As Venetia struggled into her skin, they watched the lights grow nearer. Soon they could hear the drone of engines and the crunch of stone and gravel. They decided to stand with their arms hanging loosely at their sides, hoping that their stance conveyed that they were non-combatant and non-hostile.

  Powerful searchlights blazed, almost blinding them. Bullets spat and hissed close by, a warning for them not to move. They were terrified, but held their ground. Once more, there was the stench of petroleum. Voices, hard and metallic, cut through the night air.

  ‘Oh God,’ Venetia complained. ‘They think we are spies. This whole thing is ridiculous. All these people think about is fighting.’

  ‘I can control the situation – up a point,’ Astral said.

  ‘Up to a point,’ Venetia complained. ‘What do you mean by that … exactly.’

  ‘Venetia, stop whining. We need a clear head. Complaining is going to make it worse, and put an extra burden on me.’

  ‘Trust in that skin, Vene, and think of me without one,’ Jalaal spoke dryly.

  ‘Venetia, if we get separated, you must learn to instruct the skin. It will teach you. Speak to it; let it become an extension of you.’

  ‘What if they see the skin under my clothes?’

  ‘They won’t. I’ve set both skins to default transparency. Once on, they are invisible. Given time, the skin itself will tell you how to change that, if you need to. Now, I must concentrate. These imbeciles need to see us as friends.’

  That didn’t quite work out. Astral-La projected her thoughts into the minds of the seven approaching soldiers. They were heavily armed, ready to kill, and convinced that anyone who did not belong to their regiment was an enemy, and not only an enemy, but highly dangerous. Apparently, they had no concept of innocent civilians or non-combatants. With difficultly, Astral-La managed to sow in their minds the thought that she and her friends were supporters of the regiment; an unknown enemy had taken them hostage; they had escaped, and were searching for a way home.

  The soldiers had visors up, revealing grim faces, struggling against the humanitarian suggestions Astral-La sought to implant. Somehow, she had entrained these thoughts into her smart-skin and was transmitting them to Venetia’s skin, creating a field of good will and kindness.

  This only half worked as the soldiers’ education and training had deprived them of the concepts of justice and good will. There was no place for mercy or the humane treatment of non-combatants; moreover, the concept of valour seemed to be lacking. All this Astral-La saw in a flash; a people enslaved by violence and mistrust, who had known nothing else but war, conflict, and retribution. In one instant, her intuitive and psychic powers gave her a flash of insight, a knowing, an understanding of a people bred for warfare. It was evident that all their suspicions about the race that held them captive were true.

  The soldiers hustled them roughly into the flying machine. This was primitive travel indeed to all three captives and soon they ached all over from the rough handling and remorseless flight conditions. The soldiers had thrown Venetia and Jalaal to the floor of the craft where they were unable to see anything past the hulking shapes of their captors, except for the occasional glimpse of an increasingly cloudy sky. Astral-La was more fortunate; by chance she had been placed close to a window from where she could watch the terrain rotate beneath them, changing from desert, to mountains, to forests parched and stripped bare, to a large military stronghold occupied by thousands of personnel.

  She expected the helicopter to land as the area over which they were flying was obviously home territory. She was surprised when it did not and began to wonder how long they would have in these pitiless conditions. The soldiers, who had been talking amongst themselves in their harsh language, gradually became quiet, their faces set it gloomy commitment to the unrelenting cause of warfare.

  Hours slipped by as they flew into night. Venetia and Jalaal whimpered and groaned as they tried to make themselves more comfortable, receiving kicks and jabs as they did so. Astral-La attempted to influence the minds of the men around her. That they were alive was proof that to some extent she was successful; for her to push them into gestures of consideration was a lot to expect.

  The sky was dark and cloudy, only occasionally breaking to reveal a glimmer of stars. The air became bitter and Astral-La began shivering violently; she sensed that Venetia and Jalaal were in a similar condition.

  One of the men began securing the windows of the helicopter. Even although they were flying low the air was freezing, howling, and biting like a vicious animal, and Astral-la realized that they could die if these conditions were to continue for much longer. She projected thoughts into the minds of their captors.

  Two of the soldiers struggled out of silent inertia and began making Jalaal and Venetia more comfortable. They pulled Astral-La away from her bleak window seat and placed her beside her friends. The friends grabbed onto each other in a vain attempt at generating warmth. Magically, the soldiers produced a large down-type covering, which they gave to Astral-La, who spread it over the three of them. They grew warmer, their shivering and teeth chattering stopped, and they started to relax. The down covering was effective and they became dozy and slipped into uneasy sleep.

  They woke to find that they had landed. Hands grabbed them and hurled them out of the copter. The night air bit into them as they clung to the covering. They were in some sort of military base camp. The soldiers were laughing, jeering, their mouths set in cruel smiles, their body language threatening.

  Within minutes, they were inside a complex of prefabricated structures. Three soldiers took charge of them and pushed them into a colourless steel cage. They collapsed onto the hard floor, holding onto each other, afraid someone would separate them.

  The lights dimmed and the soldiers left them to assess their situation.

  ‘Out of the frying pan …’

  ‘Okay, Venetia, we know,’ Astral-La said. ‘We have been paying attention to recent events.’

  Venetia whispered. ‘Astral, get us out of here, before it’s too late.’

  Like a sudden breeze, something passed over them. Moving away, it seemed to explore the room. Then it returned, brushing their faces, moving across their bodies. Unknown, and deeply alien, it was not hostile, yet it’s presence unnerving.

  ‘What is that,’ Jalaal asked. ‘A secret scan. Our captors must be scanning us.’

  ‘It’s too subtle for these people. It must be infiltration,’ Venetia said. ‘Astral, what do you think?’

  ‘It’s the same entity that jumped us from Keeper’s aeroplane.’

  ‘Come off it, Astral,’ Venetia said. ‘We need to keep perceptive, otherwise we will go mad.’

  ‘I’m not being delusional. In a mysterious way, which I cannot explain, we are not alone.’

  ‘Has it come to feed off us; is that what you are saying?’ Jalaal asked, his voice hopeless.

  ‘No, it is not doing that, it’s trying to connect. Look, link to me, both of you. Let’s see if there is something there, maybe an ally of sorts.’

  ‘That would be welcome,’ Venetia said dryly.

  They linked minds – Venetia reluctantly, as usual.

  They felt the entity rest on the edge of their collective awareness, like a bird or animal that wants to be friendly, but is cautious. It began to move around them, probing, moving away, and probing again. Occasionally, it gave a small burst of friendship, at least it felt like friendship; perhaps it was experimenting with the idea of friendliness, or concern, or helpfulness.

  Then, without warning, it came closer and disclosed itself. A thought rang t
hrough their minds: I am here. I am your friend.

  They had not expected that degree of trustfulness. One moment it had been on their periphery, observing, guarded. Next, it was among them, openly, without any obvious protection.

  It took a while, but gradually thoughts formed in their minds. The invisible entity was communicating. The result was like a voice, but more like a voice they had created in their heads. I have been watching you. I can speak your thought language. In your tongue, I am called Arabella.

  What do you want with us, Arabella? Astral-La struggled to ask. They were all deeply shocked.

  Arabella hesitated. I want to help you. I also need help. Maybe we can help each other.

  How?

  My people exiled me here as punishment.

  For what? Who are you? What people? What punishment? Venetia asked urgently.

  ‘Venetia, don’t overwhelm her,’ Astral-La said loudly. ‘Take your time Arabella.’

  For insisting you are sentient … self-aware. My … people insist you are not sentient. They regard you as … fodder. They use you as nourishment. You are chosen nourishment.

  ‘We had worked that one out, already,’ Jalaal said. ‘But thanks for confirming it.’

  My race stretches across this galaxy and beyond, but the people of my planet, which is a super gas giant further out in this system, have been outlawed, quarantined by a law enforcing agency called the Inquisition for the crime of feeding off the vibrations of sentient beings like you. Against the stipulations of the Inquisition, my people have cultivated an inner system world purposely as a food farm, using a sophisticated technology which to you would be invisible, cultivating just the right ingredients for optimum nourishment, what you and they call war. My people experience this war as food. You are food too, of a different type.

  ‘Vampires,’ Venetia whispered to herself.

  ‘Quiet Venetia,’ Jalaal whispered. Can’t this Inquisition stop this? Jalaal thought projected.

  They could, but they are engaged in hostilities with an intergalactic criminal cartel and their resources are limited.