Young Adventurers

by Austin S. Camacho

  The cameras embedded in the glass dome, transmitted her actions to a watching audience. The lost game was very popular in this sector. But Neve had never seen it. The refugee class were not allowed access to entertainment media. The refugee class were not allowed lots of things. They weren’t allowed to leave the confines of their camp. They weren’t allowed to meet in large groups. They weren’t allowed access to information about the world they lived on. This Kristrall refugee world was a mystery to Neve. She knew that it housed hundreds of species, but she knew little else about it. She didn’t even know how far it was from Earth.

  The lost game had seemed to offer her the strongest chance of success. All she had to do was find her sister, and she knew her sister so well, she’d been a mother to Penny for two years now, ever since they had left Mother behind on Earth, lost in the disarray of war.

  Neve had been searching the field too long, time was slipping by. She had started the game calmly, methodically, examining the grass, staring at one corner of the field, searching for clues. But as the game progressed she became erratic, running from one side of the field to the other. Until now, she stood in the middle of field and screamed, “Penny, Penny,” over and over again.

  Neve smelled smoke. Part of the grass verge was smoldering. Was that a clue? She often told her sister not to touch the open fires that burnt in the homes and in the streets of the camp. It must be a clue. The fire was gathering air, sucking in the hot perfumed air of the dome. Neve ran to the verge and waved her arms in the burning grass. But her hand slipped through the holographic flames.

  They had told her that she could recognize her sister’s pattern. They had told her she could win the game. They had assured her that the game was fair. There must be some way of identifying her sister, but she felt overwhelmed. She was playing a game whose rules she really didn’t understand. She feared that her sister would be lost in the field forever.

  “You have one hour left,” said a voice over the games system. Only one hour! She had been in the game four hours now, and it was almost finished. Fear threw a grey cloak over Neve, and she stood immobile, but only for a few moments. No! Not now, she thought. Save the fear for later.

  “Another player wishes to join. Accepting another player will lower the prize-money. Will you accept?”

  “Yes, I accept.” The prize money seemed irrelevant now. Neve was fighting the fear of losing Penny. The administrators had explained that rule quite explicitly.

  A figure materialized in the corner of the field. It was a member of the Kristrall race. Was this some sort of trick?

  Bone white and elegant, he stood for a moment, possibly to allow the audience to admire his manifestation. When he moved it was with a fluid grace, muscles working under skin in a supple sufficiency. He was at home here, in the waving grasslands, at home with the advanced technology that had taken her sister, and in tune with the conventions of the game. But those thoughts didn’t bring hope, they bought fear. He knows all. And I know nothing. My ignorance is his foil, he’ll use me to his advantage. No! Neve pushed away the insidious thoughts of failure. She had to find Penny. This Kristrall is in the dome. She must use him to find her sister.

  She ran to the alien “I need help. My sister is missing, a pattern in the grass. I’ve just got one hour to find her.”

  “My name is Greenstem, and I am honoured to meet you. Yes. Where shall we start?” He was unhurried.

  His presence, his elegance made Neve feel small and dirty and insignificant. He magnified her flaws. It wasn’t just his physical splendour. He had an aura of coherence and purpose that was overwhelming.

  No wonder they won the war, they are so much better than us.

  The Kristralls always created this response in Neve, in all the human refugees, perhaps in other species too. She had seen the Kristralls many times. They visited the human camp. Neve had seen them, chatting as they walked, taking in the sights, offering a word or two to the conquered peoples. They created this sense of wonder, as they passed.

  No! Would those thoughts never be still? She was here now. She needed to find Penny. That was all that mattered. Neve subsumed her awe, ignoring the hypnotic admiration he created. She would find Penny.

  “Can you show me how to find her?”

  “And your name is?” Greenstem was leisurely.

  “Neve. Please help me. My sister, she’s here somewhere in the grass. They said she was a type eight pattern. Probably with an overlay of butterflies or hearts. They are her favorite things. She’s only four.”

  “I am also four years.”

  “Four Earth years I mean.”

  “Ah, that is young. We measure time differently, you know.”

  “Right, of course. But, can you help me find her?”

  Greenstem looked towards the cameras. “I will do it,” he said. He walked over to a section of the grass and extended his arm, stretching and stretching the flesh, until it lost its cohesion and became a protrusion of cytoplasm stretching into the waving grass fronds. This was the first time Neve had seen this transformation. She knew Kristralls could mutate their flesh, there was endless discussion about the Kristralls in the camps, but she had never seen it done. To Neve’s eyes the spectacle of his changing hands was disturbing, and it diminished him, removed some of his glamour. He is truly alien, she thought as she saw his body shape to his mind. With their humanoid appearance it was sometimes easy to forget how different these creatures were.

  “There is an old creature here. I have met him before,” said Greenstem. “I think no-one searchers for him, but he is content to be here.”

  He moved his arm with its web of cytoplasm over another section of grass. He was searching the grass, reading the memories of the individuals hidden within. But he was using his alien body. Is this what she needed to do to find Penny? It was impossible, but they said that the game was fair.

  “Is your sister a relative?” asked Greenstem.

  “Yes, yes. We share parents, two parents.”

  “With equal chance of genetic exchange?”

  “I guess.”

  He was moving quickly now, waving his strange hands in the grass. He would help her, he would find her sister.

  “Then she may not be genetically close to you. There is a high variation in your species, I believe.”

  “That is not the point,” said Neve. “She’s my sister. She’s only four. I want her back.” She stared over Greenstem’s shoulder as he continued his graceful movement, waving his hand through the grass. “What can you sense? Do you see her?” asked Neve.

  “There is a colony. You might call them ants. The old queen guards them well. Did you say that you sister likes ants?”

  “No. Butterflies, she likes butterflies.”

  “Ah, I will continue, then.”

  He moved away from the colony to another part of the field.

  “Do you like this world, Neve?”

  Neve stared at Greenstem. Was he making polite conversation? But she needed his help. She thought about the question. She was a refugee on an alien world. Her Father was dead. Her mother was on Earth, light years distant. Did she like being fifteen and mother to her sister? Did she like the feeling of dependence, the fact that she must be eternally grateful for the Kristralls for every mouth of food, for every breath of air? “Yes,” said Neve. “This is a very beautiful world. You are a gracious and generous people.” Neve knew what he wanted to hear.

  She moved away from Greenstem. She knelt in the soft grass. I will do as he does. She stretched out, not her body, but her mind, trying to read meaning into the impenetrable grass. Extending her mind, outwards, outwards. Penny, Penny, where are you darling? And then she touched a soft place. She reached another mind. It was not her sister. She wanted to move away but it was immeasurably compelling. She didn’t know the species. It was old and it spoke directly into her bones. “I will tell you a thousand secrets, stories buried in a shell and hidden in the wreath of stars. There is a particular treasure that w
ill help your people. I lost it many years ago and it is well armed, but I will tell you a mystery…”

  Neve felt a touch on her arm. The touch of alien skin brought her to her senses.

  “You’ve been lying there for many minutes. Have you found her?” It was Greenstem, standing over her.

  “No.” Neve was confused. “It was a voice telling me about a treasure. It was telling me secrets.” She got to her feet.

  “It was probably one of the game traps.”

  “You have fifteen minutes left,” a voice announced over the dome tannoy. “Failure to find the pattern will mean that the personality will stay within the dome.”

  “I’ve got to find her.”

  “Does she mean so much to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why did you allow her to enter the game?”

  “We need the money.”

  “But refugees are provided with food, housing and limited education all at our expense.”

  “I know,” said Neve. “But we still need money, and Penny is too young to find me. This is our best chance.”

  “You need money to buy things?”

  “Yes, all right, don’t judge me.” There was no need to tell Greenstem, and the watching audience what she really wanted the money for. There were always opportunities for people with money–on any world. Perhaps she could even acquire enough wealth to buy an illegal passage back to Earth, maybe even find her mother again.

  “I do not judge,” said Greenstem. “I simply observe. And offer a bargain, if you agree. I will find her. If not she will remain here until you get enough money to play again. Perhaps you never will. Perhaps you will choose to spend your money on things. I do not judge.”

  Neve thought of her sister’s body remaining frozen, never growing older, while her mind grew in strange directions in this alien dome. Even one day was too long. “I’ll do anything,” she said.

  “Merge with me. Then I’ll have the information to find her.”

  “I don’t merge.” Neve had seen men and women who had merged with the Kristralls. They were forlorn relics, their minds tuned to alien thoughts, unable to function. Neve needed to care for Penny. She couldn’t do that if she merged with Greenstem.

  “It’s your only opportunity to find your sister at this point. Then you will have the money you desire.”

  “I just want her back.”

  “It can be a difficult game, for those who don’t understand the consequences.” Greenstem stretched out his strange hands towards her. “That is why the game always seeks new players, new species. The audience like the fresh emotions you younger species generate.”

  “And you?” said Neve. “What do you like?”

  “I am a collector. If you merge with me, I will find your sister. Your memories will remain with me and I will gift you with my memories.”

  The Kristralls set a trap for me and I’ve walked into it, like an idiot. Was this all designed to trap me? They’re watching me now, on their cameras. Watching me.

  She had no choice, she must do it. She must save her sister. Someone else would become a mother to Penny. Penny would be fine. Myra would look after her. Neve extended a trembling hand to Greenstem, knowing that she would be changed forever by this merging. He would flood her with a lifetime of memories, the sea of his experiences passing through the eye of her mind. She would swim in his alien memories. Greenstem’s hopes, dreams, experiences would inundate her soul. For a moment she would be him, then their memories would bind together, merging and re-creating. And she would be forever changed, while the audience watched.

  Her only consolation was that her mother wasn’t here, wouldn’t know that she had been changed. She missed her mother so much. She’s tried not to think about her, since she’d lost her. Neve had tried to be a mother to Penny. But Neve missed her mother so much.

  Her mother! That’s who Penny would seek. That’s where she would be. Ignoring Greenstem’s outstretched hand, Neve ran over to the area where Greenstem said he’d encountered the colony of ants.

  There is a hive, with a Queen guarding her children. That is what Penny will seek- the mother figure.

  Yes! She was here. Neve could feel the patterns of her sister’s mind.

  “I have found her,” She shouted triumphantly to the cameras. “I have won your game, now let us go.”

  Greenstem came over to her. “You will achieve your acquisition of money.”

  “Yes, now leave us.” She would have the money, but the price had been too high. The hazard to her sister had been too great. She’d been naïve. She hadn’t understood the game. In her overwhelming desire to escape this world, Neve had risked too much. But even so a voice spoke inside her: I won. I won the game. I escaped Greenstem and his machinations.

  Her sister materialized in the grass sheltered for a moment, by a huge shape with a small triangular head, which merged back into the grass. Neve ran to hug her, but her hands slipped through.

  “She’s a holograph,” said Greenstem. “Your sister’s body is in stasis–where you left it. You can collect her soon enough”

  Her sister was free! That’s all that mattered to Neve.

  “You could have had my memories,” said Greenstem sadly, “and I could have had yours. I have lived a very long time. You could have shared my experiences.”

  “Is this what you bought us here for? To eat our memories?”

  Greenstem shrugged. “You are a new species, and your value to the game is high. But there are many of you and you breed quickly. I suggest that you play as often as you can if you wish to gain money. The value of the human mind will soon diminish.” With an elegant parting gesture, Greenstem dematerialized.

  Neve would never play this game again, nor any other Kristrall games. She would find new ways to make her way back to Earth. And, somehow, Neve felt sure that there would be other ways.

  Penny’s holographic image shimmered. “I like it here, Neve.”

  Neve laughed. “You do? There are good people in this game, Penny.” She bowed to the patch of grass where the alien queen’s mind resided. “Thank you for looking after my sister,” she said.

  “Did we win, Neve?” asked Penny.

  “Yes, we won their game. Let’s go back to the camp.”

  And they had won something else as well, the knowledge that the Kristralls were not infallible and that games could be won by humans. That message would spread through the refugee camp like fire through grass.

  As we have seen, space is the final frontier where a young woman can prove herself a heroine and an explorer capable of great discoveries.

  TOORI’S CONSTELLATION

  Anne E. Johnson

  The planet Orpa had a pale purple atmosphere. “I wish all of space was purple,” Toori said to Mama one night. “It would make our trip even more interesting.”

  “Oh, there will be plenty to hold our interest.” Mama spoke through her lower mouth, which had a softer, gentler voice than the upper one. Toori loved that about Mama. Her other mother, Mimi, often used both mouths at once.

  “Mimi is almost done building the spaceship, right?” Toori’s leafy fingers quivered excitedly. “She said I could come on the last test run.”

  “That’s right.” Mama’s center eye squinted with worry and she rubbed her bare brown sides.

  “It’ll be fun!” Toori assured her. But even she had a slight sense of dread. That feeling was very familiar to her, and she was sick of it. “It’ll be fun,” she repeated with less enthusiasm. “Six months, just the three of us in space. Imagine it: the first people to leave Orpa.”

  “I imagine it constantly,” Mama murmured. Her skin quivered with stress.

  “Mama? Why are we Lemps so scared?”

  Mama got up and folded the blanket they’d been stargazing on. “It’s just how we’re made, sweetie. You know that. Our brains are built to emphasize fear.”

  It wasn’t enough of an answer. “If our species is always afraid, then why do we have to be
so curious? I wish we’d just be happy knowing what we know, so we wouldn’t have to get scared by what we might find.”

  Mama turned an unusually stern face to Toori. “Never regret your curiosity. Never. It’s a blessing. Imagine if I had never been curious.”

  Toori nodded, lowering all three eyes. “You wouldn’t have invented Infinity wire. And without unbreakable wire, buildings would fall down during quakes. And bridges would fall apart over time. I know.”

  “Not only that. Don’t forget that we also wouldn’t have enough money to send you to that nice school.” Mama winked her outer eyes playfully. “All I’m saying is, our curiosity is our best feature. And every species has a balance of traits. So we have extra fear.”

  “Yes, Mama.” So only the sky could hear, Toori whispered, “This time we won’t be scared.” She wished she believed it.

  The days crawled by like cooling lava. Toori tried to think about other things. It helped that she loved her school. In life science class, they built an oversized model of a flying insect called a frib.

  “I’ve never seen one of these,” Toori whispered to her friend Nere.

  Their teacher, Emto, heard her. He gave all four sets of his leafy fingers a mischievous wiggle. “Nor will you see one around here, Toori. Fribs live on the opposite side of the planet from us.” Smiling with his lower mouth, he spoke with the upper one. “Soon our very own Toori will be able to tell us all about flying beyond our planet. Right? Promise to give us a full report when you and your parents return?”

  Without thinking, Toori blurted out what she wanted to be true. “We’re not coming back. We’ll just keep on flying, farther and farther into space.”

  The other kids burst out laughing, honking through their lips in two tones. Even Emto laughed, but more politely, through only his lower mouth. “To quote my grandfather’s favorite expression,” he said, “it is a Lemp’s nature to be brown and slick, curious and creative, cautious and safe.”

  “Can’t we change?” Toori argued. “Couldn’t at least one of us be brave?”