by P.S. Hoffman
#
There is truth in everything. There is truth in every place. You must explore yourself as you explore the universe. You must find your Path.
Martin smiled every time he thought about that first meeting with Seer Ashton. Ashton had pulled Martin off the streets and did more good for him in one day than Martin’s parents had done in a lifetime. It was a shame when Ashton was arrested, and on so many different charges, but Ashton said it was important for all Pathfinders to find their own way. A star lights it’s own fire.
Martin pulled his shirt sleeves over his tattoos: symbols and other images that reminded him of his noble purpose. He toweled his hair off once more, and tucked his folded robes back into their spot. From the desk in his cramped quarters, he drew out a thermos-like cylinder and twisted it open with a click. A breath of vapor escaped the thermos. Dipping his fingers in, he pinched out a dollop of a shiny, black substance. He opened his mouth, and dropped the dollop between the bottom row of his teeth and his tongue. Warmth, and an almost spicy sensation spread out from his tongue to his cheeks, until he had to blink away the tingling.
Martin laid on his bed, feeling the substance solidify until it was more waxy than wet. Rolling the Seer’s Stone in his hands, feeling every mark, every ridge, he ran both of his thumbs through a gouge that scarred one side.
The First Seer, Ashton had told him, The First Seer dreamed of hope, Martin. He believed more than anyone before that there is a Path for each of us. Ashton had shown Martin the stone orb, a replica of the First Seer’s relic, and let him feel the weight, Before he began teach, the First Seer was stricken with dreams, terrifying and wonderful. This stone is what he saw, and when everything else was devoid of meaning, this is what saved him. This, Martin, is our symbol of hope.
An alarm roused Martin from his meditations. There was work to be done, a dozen systems needed to be tested before Sanesh took the repair craft out. And he still hadn’t debugged it from the last run.
Poor Bill, Martin thought, I warned him not to run the script in a debris field.
With the Seer’s Stone still in his hands, Martin pressed the bare soles of his feet onto the floor, took a deep breath, and padded out of his quarters. The hallway curved steadily upwards in a way that used to make his calves burn, back when they first began the mission.
Tiny viewports were cut at even intervals on either side of the hallway. Mostly, Martin could only see the outside of the ship, spinning, or the stars, also spinning, but he caught a glimpse of the planet in one of the viewports, and for a moment he had a feeling which he couldn’t explain without using the word ‘strange’. He rubbed his thumbs over the gouge that ran down one side of the stone.
Maybe I took too much wax, he thought, trying to shrug off the feeling before he got to the bridge. The door to the bridge opened and his stomach dropped. Dr. Aless Inge was sitting at one of the computers.
“Doctor.” Martin said, as casually as he could, hiding the waxy lump under under his tongue. Martin slid into one of the chairs, tilted the seat up until he could rest his hands on the console in front of him, and laid the Seer’s Stone carefully in his lap.
The majority of the planet was too far to the left to see, but the planet’s sparse ring system drifted lazily in the center of the viewport.
“What’s wrong with the rings?” Martin asked, “They look bent.”
“Martin, I’m trying to concentrate. Sanesh is taking the repair craft out.” She was using her ‘diplomatic’ voice again, the one that let him know she still hated him. He made a conscious effort to not let her emotions bother him, just as Seer Ashton had taught.
“It’s a good thing the repair craft’s electronics are insulated, I guess. Or else everything in there would’ve frozen.”
She didn’t say anything, and he wasn’t sure if she was ignoring him, or just didn’t want to talk about the accident.
Fine by me. He turned his thoughts back to maintenance.
Immediately after Bill’s accident, Martin and Captain Sanesh had fully serviced the repair craft, twice, and they had come to the same conclusion: Bill had left the script on in a debris-heavy environment, causing the auto-pilot to overtake the environmental controls. The temperature in the repair craft fell rapidly, and Bill froze to death. Captain Sanesh and Martin agreed that the accident had been caused by the pilot’s disregard for regulation, and that’s as much as Command, or anyone else, would know. Now, Martin’s only job was to make sure the repair craft was ready to fly. Within minutes, he had all systems running at satisfactory capacities. Within an hour he had the engines calibrated to the mission’s probable maneuvers, and he even brought the precision point ten percent above regulation requirements.
He stood up, stretched his limbs, rolled his neck, and sat cross-legged on the floor, careful to choose a spot out of Dr. Inge’s sight. He slid the wax around with his tongue, pressing it into the roof of his mouth. Eyes closed, Martin whispered his favorite mantra.
“I am a traveler, I seek the Path.
The more I seek, the closer I am.”
After several repetitions, Martin was aware that he was being watched. Dr. Inge had turned sideways in her chair, and there was a look on her face that he had never seen before.
“What? Am I too loud?”
Her eyebrows creased inward, “Did you say the equipment in the repair craft would have frozen?”
“Mm-hm.” He tried to keep his mouth shut while the wax was still on his tongue.
“What do you mean everything would have frozen?”
Martin almost swallowed when he slid the wax back behind his teeth.
“The cold, Doctor. It would have frozen the electronics, but the repair craft is made with extreme temperatures in mind.”
There was a moment of silence.
“What happened to Bill, Martin?”
She was facing him full on now, her shoulders tall, and Martin had to stop himself from calling her ‘Ma’am’. He took a deep breath, trying to fight the urge to shake off the tingling sensation. I should really stop using so much wax.
“Uhm, well. He was, uhm, the EC wasn’t working- well, it stopped working, and eventually it went so cold that he froze.”
The color drained from her face, and her lips went tight, “I thought the atmosphere was sucked out.”
Martin scoffed, “Absurd. Why would I give him a script that would depressurize the cab-. . . ”
Martin put a hand to his mouth. Oh, no.
Nostrils flaring, Aless stood up and walked over to his chair. Deep lines formed on her brow and around her lips. With one hand on the back of his chair, she leaned in so close he could smell her; old sweat under the sharpness of clean deodorant.
She spoke through clamped teeth, “What. Did. You. Do.”
Martin winced away from her and let out a stream of words, “Bill wanted an autopilot script, so I gave him one. I told him not to mess with the priorities and I told him not to use it too close to the satellite in the debris field, but he didn’t listen.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know! Well, I kinda do, but-”
“What. Happened.”
“Something took over the ship’s priorities. He must not have been watching, and the temperature kept going down, until it was too late.”
“Something?”
“Look, Dr. Inge, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have given him the script, but he kept asking-”
Dr. Inge collapsed in the chair next to Martin, pinching the top of her nose with her fingers. Her hands were shaking.
Another shower of dust and some larger particles rained against the viewport as the rings grew larger. There was no sign of the satellite. Martin suspected it was on the other side of the planet right now, which meant something had altered it’s trajectory.
“Just tell me one thing.” She was sitting up again, “Was he using your wax?”
Martin swallowed, and he felt the wax in his mouth travel down his throat,
almost closing off his esophagus. He tried to gag it up, but it was down too far. Shit, he thought, I’m going to feel this in a few minutes.
He thumped a fist on his chest, trying to get rid of the choking sensation, and nodded his response, “I think he was.”
Dr. Inge shook her head back and forth like she was tasting something bitter, but couldn’t spit it out. He stood up, padded over to her chair, and almost put a hand on her shoulder.
“Doctor. It was an accident.”
Her hair swirled as she turned her head, and her eyes narrowed, “No.”
No? The word didn’t make sense. It surprised him. What does she mean ‘no’? It was an accident. What is she thinking?
A swishing sound distracted both of them, and Sanesh walked onto the bridge in his pilot suit, with a helmet tucked under his arm.
“Good to see you two are talking again. I’m going to climb into the repair craft, wish me luck.” He grinned, rounding out his shoulders and flexing his fingers, “Something must have collided, because I noticed quite a lot of dust out there. So Martin, I’m going to need you on alert. And Aless, if you wouldn’t mind helping me get into the repair craft.”
Dr. Inge followed Sanesh off the bridge, and Martin breathed a sigh of relief. He had to sit down, everything was spinning. There were noises in his head. Beautiful noises. Voices calling his name. He closed his eyes, and saw the light winding through darkness, brighter than ever.