by Joe Vasicek
I wonder if the Starfarer Index has anything on Nova Alnilam that I missed, Isaac thought to himself. The Starfarer Index was a peer-to-peer database that anyone could edit. Every Outworld settlement kept a master copy, which was updated whenever a starfarer came through. Unlike the Gaian Imperial Catalog, it was extremely disorganized and difficult to follow, with updates often contradictory or written in different languages. Most settlements had algorithms to parse the different versions, but there was no unified system for dealing with changes. The Medea’s copy of the index was a mess. Isaac had long ago given up trying to keep it organized, and had since let the ship’s computer handle the updates automatically.
Even so, when he brought up the Index entry for Nova Alnilam, it was just as sparse as the entry in the Imperial Catalog. A couple of people had left brief notes in the sub-sections for the inner planets—each no longer than a line or two—and Alnilam Station had been renamed Anuva Station, with its population listed as fifteen hundred. At the bottom of the page was a note that Isaac had made himself, that the station was derelict and uninhabited.
Frustrated, he opened the discussion tab, just to see if anyone had deleted anything from a previous iteration. To his surprise, he found a long rant in a barely translatable language, referencing a section that no longer showed up on the main page. Even with the Medea’s autotranslator, he couldn’t make it out. It had something to do with outer darkness and God’s judgment against the heathen blasphemers, but beyond that, he had no idea what the person was trying to say.
This is why the Starfarer Index is such a pain, Isaac thought as he searched for the section that had been deleted. Since anyone could edit the database, it was common for people to throw in all sorts of racist or planetist crap. Without any sort of faster-than-light communication to enable real-time curation, those illegitimate changes could live on for decades, trickling down from one remote database to another. Unfortunately, the Medea was set to delete any version of the Index that was older than twenty standard years, and it looked like this dispute was much older than that.
He did find something interesting in the sources for the oldest version, however. Someone had uploaded an entire section of their ship’s log, only to delete it in the next iteration. From what he could tell, someone with the log’s access codes had wiped it from all the later versions—probably a star wanderer who had inherited the ship, since only people with the access codes could delete source material like that.
I don’t remember reading this before, Isaac thought. The computer must have picked it up sometime after we left Nova Alnilam. He checked the reference on the Nova Alnilam page and opened the log to the relevant entry.
The log was written in one of the Pleiadian languages, but the autotranslator had no trouble compensating for that. In Gaian, it read:
Year 3.6.12: arrival at Nova Alnilam. The main settlement is a young colony in orbit around the fifth planet, a moonless gas giant rich in methane ice. The people seemed surprised to see me—from what I can tell, they are fairly reclusive and have very poor relations with the neighboring systems. Still, they received me without too much difficulty.
The culture in this system is extremely peculiar. The people here do not wear any manner of clothing—in fact, they consider the wearing of clothes to be indecent. Their religion teaches that their bodies are sacred, and that to cover them out of shame is obscene. This led to some awkwardness and tension upon my arrival at the station. However, when I undressed to comply with the local customs, they took to me almost immediately.
Isaac frowned and reread the last paragraph just to make sure he understood it correctly. Had the starfarer actually gone naked the whole time he was at Alnilam Station? He read on.
Although they do not wear any sort of clothing, they do paint their bodies with a type of dark brown pigment, making some extremely intricate designs. These temporary tattoos are regarded as status symbols and expressions of fashion and taste. However, the pigment is quite expensive, so full-body tattoos are rare and prized quite highly.
So that’s why they tattooed her, Isaac thought. It made sense that the people who had put the girl in cryo would have given her their best for her journey into the unknown future. And if that was true, the last thing she’d want to do was cover it.
He skimmed the rest of the log entry. There were a few other minor details about the culture, but nothing earth-shattering. The last part dealt mostly with the trade details, a list of the commodities in high demand and a much shorter list of the goods and commodities that the system produced. It ended with one last afterthought:
At first, I found it strange that the people here do not consider public nudity indecent in any way. However, after spending some time among them, I admit that my own views on that issue have changed. I have found these people to be kind and generous, a bit wary of outsiders but liberal in their affections to those they consider their own. I am tempted to extend my stay in this place, perhaps indefinitely. Still, there are other stars calling to me, stars not nearly as remote and isolated as this one. I would be pleased if my wanderings take me back to this system, but I do not anticipate returning in the near future.
So the girl was naked because she had no nudity taboo. Quite the opposite, in fact. Among her people, clothes were considered obscene. That explained her refusal to wear any, but what to do about it—that was the question.
If clothing made her wary of him, then one option was to take it off the way the star wanderer in the log had done. The thought of being naked and alone with a girl who was also naked made Isaac more than a little uneasy. She might not have a problem with it, but where he was from, that definitely crossed the line. Perhaps if they weren’t total strangers—no, even then, it was just too weird.
Aaron wouldn’t have a problem with it, he thought, wondering what his brother would do in this situation. In fact, he’d be all too happy to get naked with her. At least Isaac didn’t have to deal with that.
It wasn’t that Aaron was a pig around women … Well, maybe he was sometimes, but it wasn’t like that was the only thing on his mind. More than once, though, he’d wanted to visit a stationside brothel while they were in port. There were lots of brothels on the Outworld frontier, catering to the many starfarers who came through. Isaac’s answer had always been no, but until the war, Aaron’s requests had been getting more and more insistent.
“Come on,” he’d said at Nova Minitak. “I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s not like we’re kids—we’re both men now.”
“We’re not going to do it,” Isaac had said firmly.
“Why not?”
“Because Mother would never approve. Just think how horrified she’d be to hear you even suggest it.”
“But we’re star wanderers now,” Aaron said, the whine in his voice growing stronger. “We’ve left our homes behind, forever. Why should we live by the same rules we grew up with?”
“We’re not going to do it, and that’s final. If you want a girl, you’re going to have to court her properly—at least so long as we share the same starship.”
As the oldest son, Isaac had always been taught to set an example for his younger brother. He’d also been taught to wait until marriage before getting too intimate with a girl. His goal as a star wanderer had always been to settle down and start a family. After all, his mother had always taught him that a strong family shone brighter than all the stars.
That was why the henna girl made him so nervous. He’d never seen a girl naked before—not one over the age of five, anyways. The most he’d ever seen was maybe a nipple while one of his cousins was breastfeeding. Still, he had to get the girl to trust him. If wearing clothes was taboo in her culture, then forcing her to put some on was not going to win her trust.
I’ll just have to go along with it, he told himself. Act like everything’s normal, not make a big deal out of it. If he treated her as he would if she were clothed, it would go a long way toward getting her to open up. He would have to wor
k hard to keep his eyes from wandering, but that was something he could do.
The sound of the henna girl rustling in the cabin brought him back to the present. She was up, and from the sound of it, she was looking for something to eat. He took a deep breath and rose to his feet.
It’s no big deal, he told himself again. Just pretend like everything’s normal.
Even if it was for her, it definitely was not for him.
* * * * *
When Reva woke up, she could no longer hear the snoring of the young man in the bunk below her. Careful not to alert him that she was awake, she turned her head and surveyed the cabin. He wasn’t anywhere in sight, so she slipped out of her bunk and took a look around.
He was in the cockpit; she could see the top of his curly-haired head over the back of one of the chairs. He didn’t seem to notice her, so she stepped lightly to the food synthesizer. Her stomach was growling something awful, and if she didn’t eat soon, it was bound to get a lot worse.
As she fiddled with the synthesizer, the sound of footsteps behind her snapped her to attention. She turned and almost collided with him. He took a step back, clearly thrown off a bit, but smiled at her kindly and asked her a question.
Reva stared at him, unsure what to do. Evidently, neither did he. Her hands tensed, and she folded her arms just to keep them from quivering. Ignoring her fear, she put on the toughest scowl she could manage.
“I don’t need your help,” she snapped at him, not caring that he couldn’t understand her. “I can take care of myself just fine, thank you very much.”
He nodded at her and pointed to the food synthesizer, then rubbed his stomach to ask if she was hungry. She gave him no answer, since that would only encourage him. He gestured again, asking her verbally this time, and still she only stared at him. Then he pointed from her to himself before gesturing again to the synthesizer.
He’s asking for permission to use it, Reva realized with a start. It’s his ship, and he’s asking me for permission.
She shrugged and let out an exasperated sigh, which was all the permission he needed to go ahead. His fingers danced across the keypad, and soon the machine was humming with activity.
As he worked, Reva got her first good look at him. He was tall—almost a full head taller than her—with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His skin was pale, though his hair was almost as black as hers. His chin was smooth, with only the barest hint of scruff, and his eyes were brown and surprisingly gentle.
Maybe I misjudged him, Reva thought to herself. He doesn’t seem like the others. Still, she refused to let her guard down, remembering all too well how the man in white had groped her.
The machine finished, and the young man withdrew not one but two glasses with some sort of thick, white substance inside. He handed one to her, but she motioned for the one he’d kept for himself. Even after he gave it to her, she waited for him to take the first sip before raising the glass to her mouth.
Whatever the drink was, it was absolutely delicious. It was spicy enough to bite, but so sweet and flavorful that she couldn’t stop drinking it. The thick, syrupy drink slid down her throat like liquid heaven, and before she realized it, her glass was empty.
The young man chuckled and took her glass to refill it. Reva blushed at her enthusiasm, but if he held it over her, he certainly didn’t show it. It wounded her pride to take his food so eagerly, but her pride was no match for her stomach. For all its deliciousness, the drink was surprisingly satisfying.
When he handed the glass back to her, he also motioned for her to sit down at the table. She followed him warily, waiting for him to sit down first so that she didn’t have to turn her back to him. When she did sit down, she made sure to sit across from him.
“I-Zack,” he said, pointing to himself. “I-Zack Del-Tana”
That must be his name, she realized. She set her cup down on the glassy tabletop and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“I-Zack?” she asked, pointing at him.
He smiled and nodded. She noticed that his eyes were fixed on hers—no involuntary wandering to her breasts, or any other part of her body for that matter. He seemed a bit over-earnest about it, but she had to admit it was a lot less creepy than the looks she’d gotten from the other men. Where they had groped her with their eyes, he actually seemed to see her as a real person.
“Reva,” she said, pointing to herself. “Reva Starchild?”
“Ray-va?”
“Reva,” she repeated, then pointed at him. “I-Zack?”
“Isaac,” he corrected her.
“Isaac. Isaac Del-Tana.”
She pointed away, waving her hand to indicate a general area. “Where am I?” she asked.
Her question stumped him for a second, but soon his eyes lit up with understanding. “Medea,” he said, waving his hand the same way she had. “Medea.”
Is that the word for “starship”? Reva wondered. Or is that the name of the one that we’re on? Since they’d just exchanged names with each other, she guessed that it was the latter.
It was so frustrating to have to rely on hand gestures to communicate. There was so much she wanted to ask—who he was, where they were, how she’d gotten here, and where he planned to take her. Until she knew how to talk with these people, she would be completely powerless. Learning their language was her first priority.
In the meantime, she had to admit that Isaac wasn’t as bad as she’d thought he would be. She still didn’t trust him completely, but so long as he seemed willing to help her, she wasn’t going to turn that down.
* * * * *
I can’t believe how normal this feels, Isaac thought to himself. I’m alone on the Medea with a girl who is totally naked, and it feels completely normal.
If he had to pinpoint exactly when the switch had happened, it was probably between when Reva had finished the first tonberry shake and when they had sat down at the table. When he’d first approached her, he’d been so nervous he was actually sweating. But now, he realized that was because he’d seen her as something forbidden, not as an actual person. When he saw how much she’d enjoyed the shake, something inside of him had clicked, and she became more than just the naked henna girl. And now that he knew her name, it seemed even more normal.
“Starship,” he said, bringing up a picture of a light freighter on the holographic tabletop screen. “Starship.”
“Medea?” Reva asked.
“Kind of,” he said, nodding. “The Medea is a kind of starship, but not the only one.”
“Medea starship?”
“Yes, the Medea is a starship. Is, am, are.”
She gave him a puzzled look, so he turned off the screen. “Man,” he said, pointing to himself. “Woman,” he said, pointing to her.
“Woman,” she said, pointing to herself. “Reva woman.”
He shook his head. “No. Reva is woman; you are woman. Isaac is man; I am man. Is, am, are.”
“Ah,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “Reva is woman, Medea is starship.”
“Yes,” he said, smiling. “Very good.”
“Reva are woman?”
He shook his head again. “No. Reva is woman. Reva and Isaac are man and woman.”
“‘And’?”
“Yes. And, or, not.”
He turned the screen on again and brought up a series of Venn diagrams showing the Boolean logic for ‘and,’ ‘or,’ and ‘not.’ For a second, he worried that it would go over her head, but her eyes widened in comprehension.
“Ah!” she said. “And, or, not?”
“Yes,” said Isaac, pointing each diagram out to her. “And, or, not.”
“You is not woman, yes?”
“You is? No. You are, I am, he is.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, yes. You are not woman. Yes?”
“Yes. Very good.”
“I am woman, not man. You are man, not woman. You and I are man and woman.”
She’s catching on really fast, Isaac
thought to himself. She gobbled up everything he taught her as if she were a supermassive black hole. That resourcefulness would serve her well. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for her, waking up from cryo in a strange place away from everyone she knew.
Her people were all dead now, just like Isaac’s people back in Delta Oriana. His family had escaped, but the famine had killed off everyone else. Megiddo Station was probably a musty derelict now, filled with decaying corpses just like Reva’s home. In that, they weren’t so different from each other after all.
She probably wonders what happened to them, Isaac thought to himself. He certainly had, back when he’d first set out for the stars. It had taken a few years for the news to trickle down to him, but when it finally had, it had given him some much-needed closure. Perhaps that kind of closure would help her as well.
“Here,” he said, clearing the screen again. “Let me show you something.”
He brought up a starmap of the South Second Quadrant and centered on Nova Alnilam. By zooming in, he made the other stars scatter off the screen and brought up a diagram of the system, with five concentric circles for the orbits of the five planets.
Reva looked on with little more than casual interest until he zoomed in on the fifth planet. Recognition slowly dawned on her, and she frowned and peered at the screen much more intently. An image of the bluish ice giant came up, listing a single station and no moons in the description box. Isaac tapped on the list, and the image of the planet was replaced by an image of Alnilam Station.
“Reva’s home,” he said, pointing it out to her. “Home. Yes? Understand?”
A torrent of words poured out of her mouth, all of them in a language he couldn’t understand. Her eyes were wide and full of fear, her face was deadly somber. It was as if they’d been playing games up to this point. Now, things were suddenly serious.