Sondranos: The Narrative of Leon Bishop

by Patrick Stephens

  “Aurichrome is highly volatile,” Velric says.

  Admiral Perry is uncertain. Does Velric mean to ask this, or is he stating a fact? He chalks it up to a miscommunication, and hopes the string continues.

  “Yes,” Perry chooses to answer both ideas at once. “But that’s what the change was. You can hop on a jet and take to Earth’s moon in a couple hours – it’s about as safe as the mental stability of the pilot. No worries. But if you strap a starship to your butt made out of a refined explosive, well, you’re riding more than just by the seat of your pants.”

  Velric shifts in his seat. A moment of silence tells Perry that the Belovore still isn’t quite following. “Aurichrome changed our world, allowed us to reach the stars. That was our catalyst. Maybe our arrival at Sondranos is yours,” Perry said. “All you need is a ship, and a good crew.”

  “Our entire species could fit into the Irene,” Velric sits up straighter. Perry’s heart thumps in his chest – eager.

  “How old are you, Velric?”

  “By your standards, I am quite young. But I am able enough in my culture to be considered an adult. I have not yet begun to lose my faculties, and can still retain the thoughts that drive my most base emotions.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You have senility,” Velric shoots Perry a look that could almost be considered a wry smile. “We have an aging hive mind. Once we reach a certain age, the elders can be controlled and told how to best suit society without having to be a burden. The young shape the minds of the elders, after the elders have done the same. Those in the middle ensure that survival is at the forefront. It is how it must be.”

  “Then you could be a very strong voice amongst your people,” Perry says.

  “I already am.”

  “You could convince your people to take to the stars, to find a new home, or to find something that will cause your people to expand much like the human species,” Perry says.

  “I could,” Velric responds. “But how will that solve the issues we face now?”

  “You will face a new world up there, much like we did. Oh, the stories, Velric. Humanity has done nothing greater than reach the stars. The Irene is a trifle compared to the quests of hundreds.”

  “We have been going through your database, as you instructed. We believed you shared everything with us,” Velric says.

  “This is where I admit where I’m wrong,” Perry says. “I ordered them closed. All of the tales we shut off from access. We didn’t want to show up and make your species feel inadequate. But, now, I realize that that’s what needs to be done. You need to see what kind of lengths you can reach when you have the means. You have us at your disposal. The Irene. The resources we can muster – Belovores can survive long periods without eating and sleeping, so let us provide you with ways to ensure that every time you need to eat aboard our ship, you will feast.”

  “I don’t know what to make of what you are saying,” Velric says. “What about Sondranos?”

  “The population numbers will change. We will live where you did, and continue the survival of your home. Call it an exchange. Our economic situation will stabilize, while yours survives the way we couldn’t. If your people take to the stars, you can only thrive. The human race has done its thriving. I will prove it to you. We have hundreds, if not thousands, of historical records of humanity’s space program. We, as a colony, need to settle down. The time has come for the Belovores to take their place where the human race once blossomed.”

  “This is very generous of you,” Velric says.

  “I only want to see both our people flourish and succeed.”

  Perry stands, retreats from his desk, and shifts the screen of his monitor on. It hums to life, and he straightens his uniform as the screen latches on to the database from the Irene. He scans through a dozen names, before stopping on one. A blond girl, roughly twenty years old. She’s a child of one of the scientists, training to be amongst the diplomatic personnel.

  “This is Annika Granger,” Admiral Perry stands. “I will set up a meeting with you. I want you to compile a team of your own. Storytellers, teachers, people who hold importance in your community. She’s going to head up this project. Everything you need to know, you come to her and she will find a way to get it taught. I trust her in this, and will brief her on it. Understand that you can be more. You can always be more.”

  Velric stood and extended a hand. Perry always appreciated the gesture, even though his hand would come back throbbing. He took Velric’s large hand and clasped it.

  “I’m sorry, Velric,” Perry says. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of this sooner. Just think. The human race did so much, all because it could. Imagine what your people will be in a few years out there. I look forward to that day, Ambassador. I very much do.”

  “To the survival of Sondranos and the growth of my people.”

  After Velric leaves, Admiral Perry sets his hand on the table. His hands tremble. The thoroughfare of thoughts in his mind settles somewhat as he takes deep enough breaths to smother them. He can’t believe what he’s done, but he can understand. The conversation came as easy as if it came from a politician. It’s for the good of the people. The next phase will be to send the historical documents to Velric and his people. After that, he’ll find Miss Granger and allow her back into the training program. He will explain to her and her father that, after her consistent failures and lack of understanding of basic colonial techniques, he’s finally found a job suitable for her skills. And if she doesn’t perform is adequately, then her father will be punished accordingly.

  Admiral Perry picks up the transceiver on the edge of his desk and connects to Russell, who’s taken over as an impromptu mayor of Sondranos Colony. The people like her, and she gets along well with the Belovores.

  “I want you to pull up some literature, Miss Russell.”

  “Yes, sir. What would you like?” She tilts her head, curious.

  “Pulp. Science Fiction novels from the early twenty-first century. I want you to pull them all out. Mostly space-opera, or those weird ones about spaceships and aliens, and whatever make-believe you could bank on in this age.”

  “Time frame, sir?” She masks a slight sense of incredulity behind a casual laugh.

  “After the renaissance period, and only if they have happy endings.”

  “Light reading?”

  “Call it a cultural exchange.” Perry swallows, committing to his mission.

  “They’re looking for revenge,” Annalise stopped the story. “They were lied to. They have had years to suffer in space, never finding a home. Sondranos was colonized was because the Admiral took a sudden turn for a habitable planet, otherwise they would have continued untouched for years. Of course they want us dead.”

  Davion concluded: “Admiral Perry pushed them out; he made them think star travel was what they’d wanted, and the only way they could survive. And, as they weren’t truly ready, the Belovores never left the Irene. I would not be surprised if they called for a complete and unconditional surrender, and then wiped those who’d condemned them off the face of the planet. Only those who are forgiven would survive.”

  “But everyone from the Irene is long gone,” I said.

  “The sins of the father.”

  “Life expectancy of a human was nearly cut by a third in colonization flights. It had to have happened to the Belovores too,” Melanie added.

  “Children often follow the words of their parents when they witness their parents being cast down,” Davion said. He sucked in a deep breath. “Or, like we couldn’t comprehend their aging, perhaps they fall victim to the same. I’m willing to concede that they may have reasons beyond your comprehension. You must be open to that possibility as well.”

  “Every colony had an economic model. If you didn’t adhere to it, then you were boned. Perry did what he thought was necessary,” Kayt said, stood, brushed off her backside, and trundled away from our campsite. We’d all finished eating about half
way through Davion’s story, but pieces of Kayt’s steak still sat on the ground surrounded by the convection foils Annalise had bucketed it in. All of our eyes were on Kayt. She stumbled just shy of the opposite end of the road. Having tripped, she let herself fall to her hands and knees, and vomited twice. I was the first to stand and waved everyone else away as they stood, saying I’d take care of it. Annalise joined, but kept a few steps behind.

  Davion whispered to Melanie, “Poor girl.”

  I approached slowly, and she vomited again. The sun was halfway down the horizon, so the shadows cast by her hair created a shadowed barrier against her face. I knelt down beside Kayt, pulled up any stray bits of hair dangling down, and let my hand rest on her back.

  “I just don’t want to hear it right now,” Kayt said through a hoary tone. “I shouldn’t have asked to hear it. Every time he mentioned the Belovores, I saw Lancaster getting … Lancaster dying in that way, on the street. He was watching as we drove away. I know this.”

  “You can’t let yourself obsess over things you couldn’t have helped.”

  “Just leave me alone, please.”

  “I understand what you’re asking,” I said. “But I don’t want you wandering off alone.”

  “Why not? Getting mauled by a creature I only just learned existed sounds like a good idea. It was good enough for Lancaster, and he didn’t even know why the Belovores hated us,” Kayt straightened up, and I helped her to her feet. I wiped a tear away from the corner of her eye.

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Why not? It’s what I deserve.”

  “Nobody deserves that. At least now we know what kind of past we’re up against. We’re going to survive this. I promise.”

  “I promised Lancaster we’d be fine when we were at Lise’s house,” she choked back a sob. “Look how good my word turned out to be.”

  “Don’t be so negative,” Annalise came up behind us. Kayt jumped at her voice. “We’re surviving this. Leon is right; you couldn’t have done anything without getting yourself killed.”

  “Oh, be quiet jailbird. Why don’t you go murder more innocent people, or whatever it was you did?” Kayt glowered. “It’s your fault, you know. If you hadn’t had that stupid plan, he wouldn’t have thought to be a hero. He’d still be alive. It’s your fault he’s dead.”

  I suddenly saw why Annalise had apologized, earlier. When the bad stuff came, she was an easy target for blame. The way Kayt said it, I could tell it stung both women. Kayt pushed past Annalise and stalked to the car. She opened the door to the backseat and climbed in. She pulled the closed and everyone in the group could hear her sobs. And swearing. Annalise’s name came up more than a dozen times, and Davion made a gesture to be the next to attempt consoling her. Melanie pulled him back down. Kayt’s words were harsh enough to silence Annalise.

  For the first time since we’d met, Annalise looked distant. It’s true that she didn’t need to come with us, but at the same time - if she was right and we truly did share some bond, then I knew it was true that she needed to be with someone. She needed to share the accusations when her suggestions went awry.

  “She didn’t mean it,” I said.

  “Yes. She did.”

  “Well, she wouldn’t have said it under other circumstances.”

  “That’s why we’re letting her have it. She’s young; she doesn’t know how to handle life without lashing out, or playing the part of a drama queen. Something horrific has happened, not just to her, but to all of us. Melanie’s keeping Davion busy, so us staying away for a few minutes gives her time to collect her thoughts.”

  “That doesn’t reserve the right to not be hurt by someone’s words,” I said.

  Annalise couldn’t look at the car. “I’m not thirteen, Leon. Don’t talk to me like I am.”

  I wondered if part of her had considered the truth of what Kayt had said. Or if she actually blamed herself for Lancaster’s death. She knew the boy as little as I did.

  “How are you doing with all this, then?”

  “Leon,” Annalise stopped. “Do you know why I’m coming with you?”

  “Because you don’t want to be alone in this?”

  “I wanted them to die,” she locked eyes with me. “I was happy thinking about anyone who’s ever hurt me suffering and burning. It felt good. For three years I was stuck in hell just because of a petty legal system and rapists who were just mad they couldn’t do what they wanted. I know what it’s like to hate the way Kayt hates now. I imagined all of them: the judge, the jury, prosecution, defense, even the legal secretary burning in that city. And I was mad because their deaths were quick.”

  “Is that what keeps you going?”

  “You guys make me forget. Just like, eventually, we’ll make Kayt forget. It won’t be easy, but at some point tonight, Kayt will realize that she was doing something without thinking about Lancaster’s death. And she will hate herself so much for it. We need to let her be angry for now, under controlled circumstances, like I said. Right now, we have a purpose, something to run to, and if I had to stop thinking for a moment – even about stupid ideas and ways to make myself seem awesome in your eyes – then I would have to stop and think about the part of me that wanted innocent people dead.

  “The worst thing I could do right now is to slow down. I see myself in Kayt. If I slow down, then I’d have to see what kind of person I am. Don’t do that to me, Leon. Don’t let Kayt fall into that trap either. Let her have anger if she wants it. Let her say things she’ll regret later while we still have a later to control.”

  “That’s the secret,” I said.

  “Everyone faces it eventually. You can’t for a minute believe that running solves all your problems,” she smiled. “But I appreciate you trying to apologize for her. Come on, Kayt’s probably calmed down by now.”

  Annalise turned around, took me by the hand and led me back to Kayt. As we walked on, I saw Kayt in the back of the car, and put together what Annalise was saying. For now, she had all the things she needed, and that was what would shape her future.

  “I have an idea,” I said.

  ‘It won’t work. You have no idea what just happened, do you?’ Daniel reappeared in the distance, but spoke right inside my ear. ‘No idea how to react, you anti-social mammoth. Of course, how could you react? When have you ever done anything but run? You lied to Lise, Leon Bishop. She thinks you’re here on vacation, and she trusts you because you lied to her – the last thing she’d ever expect is that you’re one of those people who runs.’

  Daniel flashed closer. One second he was at least a mile away, and then he was within a few feet. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to ignite my sense of smell. I could taste his cologne in the back of my throat. It had grown sour with the hint of sweat, turning the musk of teak wood left in the sun to rot. My mental representation of him aged the area around his eyes and mouth with a handful of wrinkles, whereas the skin in between had stretched to impossible tightness. Had I been closer, I’m sure I could have looked into his pores.

  ‘You’re doing that right now. Running. Every word you say puts you further from being able to explain yourself.’ Daniel smiled, and vanished as Annalise walked through him. I tried pushing him away, and instead of succeeding, a loud impact stifled my ears. It was as if my eardrums popped, or the air pressure had changed.

  I stopped and staggered to my side. Annalise caught me, and I quickly regained my composure. She asked if I was okay, and I nodded. But, what had really happened was simple. ‘Congratulations, Leon Bishop,’ whispered Daniel. ‘Don’t you wish you hadn’t run from a life that had hardly crumbled? Instead, enjoy running with the life expectancy of a moth.’

  I pushed the mental and auditory stimulation of Daniel away, and focused on the idea I’d had before Daniel struck. Annalise and I joined Kayt as Melanie and Davion cleaned up. They smiled at each other, unsure of where to put the foil and the extra food, realizing that we hadn’t exactly pulled up to a comfortable
rest area. Davion crossed himself after setting some of the leftover meat on the ground with the rest of our trash, and buried it. Melanie found this hilarious and clapped Davion on the back, doing the same. I felt more uneasy seeing her jubilant than mad.

  “I’m sorry, Lise.” Kayt said. She looked straight ahead. The cliffs peaking over the crests of Sondranos were glowing with the last gasps of sunset, and their light cast orange on her features.

  “It’s fine,” Annalise scrambled into the driver’s seat, legs out. “I certainly understand what you’re feeling. Just remember one thing for me. If you only remember the bad stuff that’s happened to you, then your life will be pretty miserable. Try to think of the good things. Like how you and Lancaster first met.”

  I stepped in. I explained to her the idea of a Present Moment.

  Of course, I’ve had time since that moment, so I feel I’ve already described the purpose and intent behind a Present Moment as best I can right now. In that case, I will not put down what I told her. Instead, I will simply state that I told her what one was and how it could be used. I flew by the seat of my pants at the time, and I’m not certain I made sense. But Annalise summed it up for me after I’d finished, partly because she was also confused by my sudden imagination.

  “You always relive the worst moments of your life,” she covered for me. “But if you force yourself to rewrite over those bad memories with the good ones, and keep playing that image in place of the one you were thinking before, then you can have that moment in the present, instead.”

  “You see Lancaster, right now. Don’t you?” I asked.

  Kayt nodded. A tear fell.

  “See him again, but not as he was. See him in a moment before any of this occurred. Elaborate on it, stretch the truth a bit to make yourself smile. Tell us, so we can see it too. Let us remind you of it when you feel the despair coming.”