Flower-of-Sands_The Extraordinary Adventures of a Female Astronaut

by Grahame R. Smith

  Surprise had been her constant companion since her adventures began. Now, it had new meaning – perhaps gobsmacked would have been a better description. The third individual, sitting dead centre, was Clayton.

  She knew that she did not look her best when her mouth dropped, but it seemed to a have nosedived to the floor, and she was having difficulty retrieving it. She was lucky to be able to steer herself to the seat offered her.

  ‘Clayton,’ she whispered feebly.

  Clayton’s embarrassment would not have been noticed by the Rann, but Flower-of-Sands noticed it and thought it justified. But what was he doing on a Rann war ship that was part of a Rann armada operating in a neighbouring galaxy? Why was he in an official position? And what was he doing on anything Rann in the first place?

  ‘Flower-of-Sands, we meet again. I suppose you are surprised to see me here.’

  Thinking back, it made sense. Clayton had opposed every move she had made to obtain the intergalactic drives and reach the Great Wheel. This and his knowledge of the Rann language pointed to an obvious collusion. He was working for the Rann, was an agent, or undercover operative investigating and opposing the criminal cartel from the Great Wheel.

  ‘I am surprised, but when I think about it, I shouldn’t be. It is obvious really, in retrospect. What is your role. Are you working for the Rann?’

  ‘My exact role in this is not for general consumption …’

  ‘You can hardly call me general consumption …’

  ‘True.’ Clayton looked about the room, as if an audience were there rather than the neutral walls and three noiseless guards at the door. This girl! He thought. Well, he had to admire her. She had achieved extraordinary things. Would she accept what he had to say?

  He cleared his throat. ‘What you have done, young lady, is to unearth a clandestine, intergalactic operation run by the Rann, an operation active for over one hundred years – until now, until you.’

  ‘What is this operation?’

  Clayton was silent for a good minute. The two Rann remained immobile.

  ‘Over one hundred years ago, a group calling themselves the Inquisition, representing a highly-advanced race called Oula, from the Great Wheel, hired the Rann to assist them in resisting a criminal cartel called the Pulse which were involved in the massive trafficking of humans and human type peoples for the purposes of a most bizarre and rare exploitation. A section of the Oula had become renegade and had broken off all contact and had fled to a remote part of their galaxy. Unlike most of their race, the renegades, who became known as the Unseen, were warlike, fearsome, and killed without mercy and for pleasure. These beings had become addicted to feeding off extreme, negative emotions. As energy beings, they had made their staple diet the energy of suffering – violence, conflict, fear, hatred, grief, desolation – the list goes on. Misusing the highly-advanced technology of the Oula, they systematically fed off the negative vibrations emanating from Planet X. The Oula were at a loss and felt threatened; a small group traversed the vast distance between their galaxy and the Home Galaxy in search of help. In short, they found that help in the Rann. The Rann accepted their offer and approached secretly a select few from the Confederacy for assistance. I am part of that assistance.’

  Flower-of-Sands took a sip from a glass of water that the Green Rann had offered her, her eyes wide with the fantastic nature of what she was being told. ‘So, the people of Planet X are trafficked, as you call it.’

  ‘The Pulse, an intergalactic criminal cartel, hired by the renegade Unseen, over thousands of years, brought whole worlds of people from the Home Galaxy (Milky Way) and later the Throne of Ramold (Large Magellanic Cloud) to this system and to Planet X, to serve as fodder in a constant war, the sole purpose of which was to satiate the appetites of the renegade energy vampires.’

  ‘What was in it for the Pulse, the so-called intergalactic criminals?’

  ‘Power, technology, worlds and systems, wealth in ways we cannot comprehend.’ Clayton paused. ‘They seeded a world which the Unseen cultivated for war.’

  ‘How did they do it?’

  ‘Telepathic technology, energy manipulations, mind-control. Once set up, the Unseen need do little. The seed is planted, the product grows, and on reaching fruition, harvested. And after a world conflict has been sufficiently gutted, it is cleared away, and a new one put in its place on another world, in another system. You were present at the start of such a transition. Luckily, we arrived in time to save most, but not all. Many were shipped away, to what fate we have no idea.’

  ‘You mean the conflict is not over?’

  ‘Indeed, I do. The Pulse is immense, greater than we thought, and extending as far as the largest galaxy in our local group, which we call the BM740, and which your Earth friends call The Andromeda Galaxy.’

  ‘Wow, that is a sobering thought. So, we have won a battle, but not the war?’

  ‘An important battle, I might add, but yes, you are right, not the war.’

  ‘And what of the Unseen? What has happened to them?’

  ‘They are now in the power of the Oula. My understanding is that they will be reconditioned in some manner and absorbed into the general Oula population. Those who refuse will be destroyed or processed in some manner incomprehensible to our thinking.’

  ‘And what about Astral, Venetia, and Jalaal. Why were they abducted?’

  Clayton sighed wearily. ‘We are not entirely sure. We think they were the icing on the cake, a supreme condiment, as it were. They should be able to throw light on the matter when we debrief them.’

  ‘So, what happens to Daff, Wanda and me?’

  The Rann Green spoke. ‘That is really why you are here. We would like to give you guardianship of the two children. But there are conditions. The people of the Confederacy, and Earth, are unaware of the conflict between the Rann and the Pulse, and that must remain so. It is for their protection …’

  Clayton came in, ‘And that is why we have discouraged and prevented them, using methods bequeathed us by the Oula, from expanding beyond their own galaxy. These mind control methods did not work on you; I must add …’

  ‘Are you going to kill me?’ Flower-of-Sands interrupted.

  ‘Of course not,’ The Rann Green laughed and glanced sympathetically at Clayton, who smiled reassuringly. The Captain Siliceous look-alike, however, growled softly, as if surreptitiously approving the idea.

  ‘We understand,’ Clayton continued, ‘that you wish to stay on the Marleeseen planet Paradise. We approve. The Marleeseen have no interest in political matters and are unconcerned with events in the universe beyond their planet, which they claim embraces all. What we propose is that you raise Daff and Wanda there. We understand other children live on the Marleeseen planet which is protected by technology unique to the Marleeseen, and their intrinsic harmlessness makes them unattractive to the likes of the Pulse. Moreover, as you know, the Rann have a base on the fourth planet of that system.’

  Flower-of-Sands exhaled with relief. ‘I am grateful. I can assure you that I will never mention what I know of events in this galaxy and if I explore again it will not be here.’

  ‘There is one more thing,’ Clayton said. ‘Due to the beyond top-secret nature of this operation on Planet X and the war in general against the Pulse, you are required to be listed as a Rann sleeper operative. This will not disturb your life, but it will mean that potentially we may call upon your services again.’

  ‘What?’ Flower-of-Sands was incredulous. ‘What can I add to a Rann operation?’

  ‘Although we disapprove of your methods, we are forced to admit that you are resourceful and courageous. We may find a use for you in the future. And from time to time you will be required for training – like the training you received in the deep past with Invisible Fist, but the Rann version.’

  ‘Rann version?’

  Clayton and the Green smiled with amusement. The Siliceous look-alike was far from amused. He rumbled like a volcano in the initial stages o
f eruption. ‘I would like it to be noted that I do not approve of this decision, but am outnumbered; rest assured, any training you receive will contain no half measures. One of my men, a marine of the highest order, a war hero, has been highly disturbed in his work as a soldier because of your fallacious and seductive antics. I order you to stay away from my men. We have a long journey ahead and I suggest you spend it in a cryonic tank.’

  The venom of the Siliceous look-alike’s remarks stunned Flower-of-Sands. ‘I can assure you that I have no intention of …’

  ‘And I also urge you to refrain from other immoral and despicable sexual practices. You are a Rann operative and subject to Rann laws.’

  The Green leant towards the Rann Black and took one of his arms. ‘I think she gets the message, Admiral. (Admiral! thought Flower-of-Sands. Maybe he isn’t Captain Siliceous after all – maybe a cousin or older brother or father.) She will cooperate, don’t concern yourself. But realize that Confederacy people have different traditions and that her private life is her own business.’

  ‘Except when she is on duty.’ The volcano grumbled on the edge of full blown activity.

  ‘Of course,’ the Green said softly.

  ‘Of course,’ Flower-of-Sands hastily conceded.

  The seismic activity slowly receded.

  A nearby door sighed open and Leesha-Ha, Clayton’s comely assistant-partner, smiled warmly into the room.

  ‘Flower-of-Sands, let me escort you to the shuttle bay and fill you in on the finer details of your arrangement with us.’

  ‘I’m not surprised to see you here,’ Flower-of-Sands laughed as they floated down an invisible lift-shaft.

  ‘I didn’t expect you would. We grow accustomed to everything in this diverse, ever-changing, ever-challenging universe.’ She turned and winked. ‘I’ve been looking after you on the quiet. Although I am half synthetic, I am the very thing that keeps Clayton human.’

  Chapter 41

  She decided against taking a jump-lift to the area where the Rann had housed her friends. She needed to walk and digest what had happened to her. The Rann were practical and the layout of the warship simple. Areas concerned with munitions were out of bounds and impossible to enter, the rest common-sense, and the map that she had downloaded into her implant easy to follow. She took an elevator to the level where her group’s accommodation was and proceeded to walk. She needed to prepare a speech for Daff.

  She would tell him that she was no hero, and certainly not brave. All she had done was survive and assist him in surviving. She had made many mistakes, and anybody would have done what she had, and Astral, Venetia, and Jalaal were braver. The Rann had only singled her out as a representative.

  She entered the apartment allocated to Daff and Wanda to see animals and mythical creatures wandering across the floor in a complicated holo game. Like most Rann products of the type, it related to war, but beautifully crafted with accompanying holographic and music.

  The children were seated on the floor manipulating the creatures through transparent handles which they wore like gloves. They were delighted to see her, although Wanda was more guarded. Daff, on the other hand, was clearly proud that the Rann had decorated her, and for her loyalty to him.

  Flower-of-Sands realized that her planned speech would be inappropriate, that Daff needed to trust and admire her, and that it was not for her to take that away from him.

  ‘Have you two eaten?’ she said.

  ‘Kind of,’ Wanda said. ‘A blue woman came by and gave us food. And we can go to the refectory whenever we wish. These Rann are cool.’

  Daff gave Flower-of-Sands a big hug. Wanda hung back, then came to her slowly for a little hug. ‘Thank you for saving us,’ she said.

  ‘You will be looking after us from now on.’ Daff dared the universe to suggest otherwise.

  ‘Yes, I will be.’ Both children did a little scream of delight and a dance of celebration, Wanda beaming as much as Daff.

  Flower-of-Sands could see that despite their excitement and apparent liveliness, both children had shadows under their eyes and were drawn and pale. Sleep was required, but they were too strung out. Nevertheless, she plunged in.

  ‘You need sleep, let’s see who can be in bed first, after washing.’

  ‘No way,’ Daff said defiantly. ‘No way are we sleeping. We are too excited.’

  ‘Well, Daff, I’m in charge of you. It’s official. And I am telling you both to get ready for bed.’

  ‘But ...’ both said simultaneously.

  ‘No buts. Bed. Now.’

  ‘Can we have a story,’ Daff negotiated.

  ‘If you hurry, yes.’

  Both children rushed into the bathroom where they competed for a simple sink and shower. The Rann had supplied them with clothes, manufactured by the clothing AI in an area of fashion previously unknown to it. Clean, tired, and determined not to show it, both children emerged from the washroom wearing slightly too big white pyjamas.

  There were four massive single beds in the room but only two occupants, Daff, and Wanda. They pulled two of the beds close together and climbed into their respective ones. Flower-of-Sands sat between them. As she settled down, she felt suddenly sleepy. Stifling a yawn, she began the story, struggling to maintain concentration. ‘Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess in a land of plenty. Everybody loved her – people, animals, plants, trees, and flowers, all loved her. The sun itself smiled happily upon her …

  She woke with a start. Daff and Wanda were sound asleep; she must have slept for hours. Feeling hungry, she eased herself from her place between the beds, kissed both children, and made her way to the door.

  Her behaviour amazed her. Motherhood had crept up on her like an invisible friend. She had not seen herself in such a role, ever, and certainly not loving it. Where was the adventurer, the intergalactic astronaut, the entrepreneur? Well, for the moment, thoughts about that would have to wait; she needed to eat, see her friends, and then get more sleep.

  The mess was crowded and noisy with a background ambient of cups, glasses, plates, and voices. She stood in a long queue for food, which was like being at the edge of a forest of tall trees. She felt eyes on her, but when she looked around, smiling, willing to be friendly, she made eye contact with no one. It was as if those around her had a secret eye, were watching her in a manner she could not respond to.

  As a woman of the Confederacy she was tall but dwarfed by the surrounding Rann of both sexes. It always surprised her that men and some women found her attractive. Willowy, rather flat breasted with a faraway expression, she did not epitomize female loveliness, yet she had been described as dangerous to Rann males. Again, this surprised her and she decided that certain Rann admirals had become obsessed with her and were describing her in ways that bore no resemblance to reality. Simply, they were obsessed.

  She decided, at least for the time being, to embrace her image as a female goddess of Rann male destruction, and hold her head high and display the arrogance and audacity appropriate for such a position. Just as she had embraced her heroism, she now embraced her divinity. It was fun, she had to admit. The danger would be coming to believe it.

  Astral-La, Venetia and Jalaal were at the far end of a long table occupied by female Blues. There was a considerable gap between the Blues and her friends and she had no trouble sliding into a seat beside Astral-La. Everyone was tired, but pleased and relieved to see her. Flower-of-Sands noticed Helena and Alois at a distant table and waved to them, and was happy when they waved back to her.

  Astral-La placed an arm around her. ‘We were worried. After heaping decorations on you, we thought they might arrest you and send you to a Rann penitentiary where you would no longer be a temptation to Rann marines.’

  ‘Very funny, Astral. Who told you that anyway?

  ‘Word gets around, even on a Rann battleship.’

  ‘Or have you been reading my mind?’

  ‘Wouldn’t dream of it, Sands.’ Astral-La laughed and indicated a
surreptitious wink to the general surroundings. ‘Still, they have been nice to us, the Rann, I mean.’ She looked to Venetia and Jalaal who were sitting close together and may have been holding hands under the seat.

  Venetia nodded. ‘Amazingly yes, and they have made us offers.’

  ‘Tell me, please.’ Flower-of-Sands was anxious to know what offers had been made to her friends.

  Venetia wasted no time. ‘Well, they want us to be ambassadors. They are offering me a research position on the planet Liberty, with occasional unobtrusive contact with the Rann. Once I have absorbed the Liberty civilization’s knowledge and advances in physics and astrophysics and science in general, I will be able to contribute to the conflict with the Pulse Cartel, as well as do research of my own - there is some amazing astronomy in the Large Magellanic Cloud. And I will be allowed to go home, but will need to agree to a version of what happened to Jalaal and myself.They will not wipe our memories of what happened to us but will condition us not to reveal the complete nature of the Rann op. They are being civilized about it.’

  ‘Sadly,’ Flower-of-Sands said, ‘the war with the Cartel is still on. Clayton tells me …’

  ‘Clayton?’ Astral-La’s face was frozen in astonishment.

  ‘Yes, he is here. Didn’t you know.’

  Astral-La leant towards Flower-of-Sands, her eyes dark and intense. ‘Speak,’ she whispered with intensity.

  Flower-of-Sands told them about her interview with Clayton. After she had finished she asked Astra-La, ‘Has he not contacted you?’

  ‘No, he has not. His favourite niece, his favourite young person, and he has not contacted me.’

  ‘He will. I’m sure he will. He knows I will tell you and he did not forbid me to tell you.’