by J. S. Bailey
SHAYLA put a hand over her mouth. “Something’s moving!”
Constance gave a start but relaxed when she eyed a creature they’d dubbed a “bear yak.” The large nocturnal animal paused to turn its lamp-like eyes toward the cottage before lumbering onward to places unknown.
Then a beam of light swept over the ground, sending a spike of fear through Constance’s heart.
“What do you think they are?” Shayla asked.
Constance, who found it useless to speculate before they’d acquired details, gave a derisive sniff. “Giant bloodsucking monsters from hell, I suppose. Why don’t you shut your mouth and pray they aren’t here to kill us?”
Shayla fell silent. A second beam joined the first, and Shayla’s breathing came in quick hitches. Constance realized the younger woman was crying.
SHAYLA always had been the emotional one. When the voyage began she’d been a bright-eyed twenty-five and had wept nearly nonstop during the first full day of the journey, claiming that she would miss her cat and boyfriend and parents terribly during the year she and the rest of the crew would be gone.
Kess, the ship physician, had rolled her eyes when Shayla’s back was turned, and Ez and Dan traded snide remarks about the “girl in diapers.”
“I mean, it’s only a year,” Dan muttered to Constance while Shayla was preoccupied in the galley. “The kid acts like we’re never coming back.”
THE planet had no name.
It appeared below them like a great blue, green, and violet marble, and the moment the five-member crew laid eyes on it, Constance could hear a collective gasp from everyone that made a single tear well in her eye.
A decade prior, the initial scouting expedition had found no signs of intelligent life (“That’s rare enough even on Earth,” Dan had quipped), so the goal of the year-long assignment was to study the planet in greater detail and see if it was fit for long-term human habitation.
XGC2097, as the planet was classified, was slightly smaller than Earth, had an atmosphere consisting of nitrogen and oxygen, a twenty-two hour day, and a 326 day year that amounted roughly to 299 days on Earth. The scouting expedition had found three continents: a giant one that filled most of a hemisphere and two small ones isolated by ocean on the other side.
They were to land on the large continent, and they did, but the engine failed on the way down and they crashed into a hillside. Constance and Dan had forced open the damaged hatch and beheld acres of a lavender grass-like plant swaying in a sweet-smelling wind. The faint outlines of mountains jutted above a distant horizon, and something that looked like a stone tower thrust toward the sky in the opposite direction.
Despite the grimness of their situation, they’d looked at each other and grinned.
Then Dan’s expression faltered as wind riffled through his hair. Constance knew what he was thinking without him having to say it.
With the engine gone, they were stranded.
“DADDY, would you miss me if I went to the stars?” young Connie had asked that night in the meadow near the horse barn.
“With all my heart,” her father had said, “but I’d be happy you were following your dreams.”
THE visitors were human.
They appeared through the mist not long after the yellow sun rose above the horizon. Kess came with them. Her closely-cropped gray hair was evident even at a distance.
“Constance, it’s okay!” Kess called. “They’re friends!”
Constance and Shayla exchanged a glance. More tears welled in the younger woman’s eyes, and without a moment of hesitation she threw open the cottage door and ran toward the new arrivals, sobbing all the way.
Constance frowned and stepped into the open doorway with folded arms. The visitors numbered twenty, and all wore gray uniforms bearing logos she didn’t recognize.
A broad-shouldered man stepped forward. “Captain Crellin?”
Constance’s eyes stung but she kept her tears in check. It was an effort to speak. “This is she.”
The man had electric blue eyes and hair so blond it could have been mistaken for white. He’s so young, he could be my son. “Captain Crellin,” he said, “I’m Captain Erlund of the E. S. Paloma. We’re here to take you home.”
At first Constance just stared at him; this young captain who would be no older than forty, perhaps thirty-five.
Then she strode right up to him, resisting the urge to slap him as hard as she could. Before he could speak, Constance said, “It’s been forty Earth years. At least forty. Is that how long it takes for a distress signal to go through?”
Erlund blinked.
“Is it?” Constance bellowed, her voice raw. “We broadcast it every day for fifteen years until the transmitter died. We begged the heavens for someone to come get us. No one did.”
An older man stepped forward. “Unfortunately, retrieving you turned out to be of little concern.”
Constance’s blood ran cold. It was Horatio, the one who had given her his name. His hair had started to go white and a smattering of wrinkles etched his face, but his eyes were the same as when they’d captivated her as a young woman.
Overall, he looked younger than his years. Constance tried to ignore a twinge of jealousy.
“War broke out right after you left, so all expeditions were called off,” Horatio said. “Constance, you might not believe me, but I argued your case for years. At first they all said you’d be better off here than on Earth, and then once your signal stopped transmitting, they all said you were dead. I didn’t believe them.”
Constance’s jaw quivered. “Should I presume this ‘war’ is over?”
A shadow passed over her old lover’s eyes. “That depends on who you ask.”
“YOU know,” Kess said to Constance some five years after they’d crashed on that lavender hillside, “I think I’m starting to like it here. I mean, I’ve always liked it, but now I’m starting to like it like it. It feels like home.”
They’d been in the middle of shelling peas that weren’t actual peas, since they had been spawned from XGC2097’s soil, not Earth’s. Constance threw an empty pod into the compost bucket and regarded Kess with a dull stare. “Might I ask why?”
“We all get along for the most part, don’t we?” Kess smiled. “Life can’t get much more peaceful than that.”
Constance sighed and picked up another pod, peeling it open along the seam. She supposed Kess was right. Peace wasn’t an easy thing to come by, and for all the things they lacked, at least they had that.
CAPTAIN Erlund invited Constance, Shayla, and Kess to breakfast aboard the E. S. Paloma. For the first time in more than four decades Constance dined upon eggs, sausage, and bacon and washed it down with freshly-squeezed orange juice.
She kept having to remind herself she wasn’t dreaming.
Captain Erlund had talked all the way through the meal, and he was still talking now. “We started a colony on XGC2095d about five years ago,” he said to Shayla, who looked as captivated as a teenager meeting her favorite Hollywood heartthrob. “Most of the program funding has been going there.”
“They named it ‘Duncan,’” one of Erlund’s crewmembers sniffed. “Can you imagine a worse name for a planet?”
“I’m sure Alistair Duncan would disagree,” Erlund said with a smirk.
The crewmember rolled his eyes. “The man’s head is about the size of a planet. They probably got confused about which was which.”
Constance found their banter too taxing to follow properly, but perhaps that was because she wasn’t accustomed to people who weren’t Shayla or Kess. “XGC2095d?” she asked. “Isn’t that one mostly desert?” Constance had almost been sent there but chose to go to the more habitable planet on the list instead.
Perhaps if she’d chosen the other, she wouldn’t have been stranded.
“It’s mineral-rich,” Erlund said proudly. “Population’s already ten thousand and growing. You’d like it there. Lots of sun.”
You don’t even know
what I’d like or dislike. Constance pursed her lips. “What about this planet? Will you start a colony here, too?”
Erlund gave a light cough. “Only if more funding comes in. As it stands, it could be decades before another ship comes out this way.”
“Why did you come with so many?”
“Just following orders. I was told to bring multiple ships in case any of them didn’t survive the trip. We couldn’t leave you stranded again.”
As if Captain Erlund would have cared. “When are you planning on leaving?”
“As soon as you three are ready.”
CONSTANCE walked back to her cottage alone.
The familiar scents of burnt wood from the hearth and the cut flowers in a clay vase greeted her when she stepped inside, and Patsy let out a chirrup from where she lay on the windowsill.
Constance scratched behind the furry creature’s ears, and Patsy’s eyes closed in contentment. Patsy’s species was the closest thing here resembling a cat, although with a much sweeter temperament.
“They’re going to take us home,” she murmured. “I don’t even know what ‘home’ means anymore.”
Patsy cracked open an eyelid and stared at her.
“Because I’ve lived here so long now. You know?” Constance’s heart ached at the thought of leaving her pet behind. She could hardly take Patsy with her; the drastic change in environment might make the creature sick.
But what if she wouldn’t have to leave Patsy behind at all?
The voice of her father echoed through her head. Sometimes it’s wrong to follow your head. Sometimes you just have to follow your heart.
SHE left the cottage and snuck down the earthen path behind it, hoping no one would see and follow.
It led down a wooded slope for a quarter of a mile and veered to the right, where it stopped at the edge of a pond coated in teal plants that looked like lily pads but weren’t.
She sat down on the bench Dan had built, watching ripples distort the water’s surface. At first glance the whole scene looked like it could have been on Earth, yet there were just enough differences to remind her it was alien.
But it isn’t alien. Not to me. Not anymore.
Footsteps behind her made her heart sink, and without turning her head, she said, “Fancy meeting you here.”
Horatio sat down on the bench beside her. “Constance, I know what you’re thinking.”
“That’s a surprise.”
“The three of you have been isolated for so long, it’s affected you in a bad way.”
“Is it so bad?”
“People can’t live alone. It drives them mad.”
“Like you’d know.”
They were silent for a time. Constance tried not to remember when she had loved him.
“I’ve lived here longer than I did on Earth,” she finally said. “This place that doesn’t even have a name.”
“Why didn’t you name it?”
“Would it matter if we had?”
An insect that wasn’t an insect skimmed the surface of the pond and buzzed out of sight into a patch of violet reeds on the far bank.
“You should start packing your things,” Horatio said. “We’ll send a transport from one of the ships to pick you up.”
CONSTANCE watched from her window as Shayla made her way in the direction of the ships, holding a canvas sack in each hand. A crewmember Constance didn’t remember seeing earlier followed the woman with a crate in his arms. I see they didn’t send a transport for her.
Constance drew away from the window and went to the shelf beside the hearth. She hadn’t looked at the old photo album in years but felt it was time, so she pulled it out, blew off the dust, and opened it out on the table.
Pictures of herself and her sister Luce playing behind their house smiled up at her across the ravages of time. The images hadn’t faded much since then—the benefits of premium photo paper, she supposed—but the memories of childhood had softened throughout the decades until Constance had only the general idea of most of them.
Except for the stars and the meadow. I will always remember those.
She turned a page, and her heart felt heavy at the sight of her parents standing on their front porch. It was possible, however unlikely, that her parents were still alive. She could ask Horatio if he knew, but she dared not, because then she would know.
She slammed the album closed and let her tears fall.
SHAYLA paced back and forth in front of the E. S. Paloma, glancing worriedly in the direction of Constance’s house. “Why haven’t they come back with the transport?” she asked Kess, who stood beside her with arms crossed. “It’s been three hours.”
Kess pursed her lips. “Oh, you know Constance.” She couldn’t help but feel dread gnawing at her insides. She did know Constance. The woman’s stubbornness had practically been a legend back in the Air Force, and it had by no means mellowed since they’d all been stranded here. “I hope she’s not doing anything stupid.”
No sooner had she said this when the whine of the transport engine cut through the orchard. Shayla stopped pacing to exchange a glance with Kess, who held her breath.
The transport came into view. Save for the driver, it was empty.
He hopped down from behind the wheel. His brown hair stuck up in different directions like he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly. “I can’t find her!” he panted. “I looked all over. I found a weird cat-thing in her house, and all of her things are still there, but it’s like she’s just gone.”
Kess began kneading her temples. “Oh, Constance…”
CONSTANCE’S sides hitched as she walked. Every so many yards she had to stop and catch her breath, gather up her reserves of strength, and convince herself to keep moving.
After an hour she came to Tower Rock, the tall stone column that jutted into the sky. None of them had ever figured out the formation’s origin. It didn’t match any other rock samples in the area, so they’d long ago surmised that it had been put there, but by whom and for what intent, they didn’t know.
Constance knelt before the two headstones placed at the tower base. She thought of Ez and his always-messy black hair, and Dan with his tender eyes and smile.
Eventually Constance stood, glanced back toward her home (not visible at this distance, or through the trees), and headed onward. Erlund and his crew would try to find her. She would do her best to make sure they did not.
She walked beneath the shade of the trees until her legs nearly gave out, then followed a path down a hillside and into a cave overlooking a lake. Shayla and Kess didn’t know about the cave. Constance had made sure that it stayed her place and hers alone.
Constance sat down a few feet back from the cave entrance and stared down at the water, wondering if she was being foolish. To not look at another person’s face again? To never hear another voice?
Was staying here really worth it?
Eventually she thought she heard voices calling her name. It took every ounce of her will not to rise from her refuge and shout out a reply.
At long last, as the shadows grew long, Erlund’s ships flew over the lake as if searching for her. Then they angled toward the sky, shrank to tiny points, and were gone.
Constance stood. “Well. That’s that, I suppose.” She brushed the dirt from her clothes and walked home.
She scooped Patsy into her arms when she came through the door and scratched behind her pointed ears, to Patsy’s pleasure.
“This is what I always wanted, Patsy,” Constance murmured as she stared out the window at her land, where lavender grasses swayed in the wind and the yellow fruits growing on the orchard trees were ripe for picking. “I wouldn’t give any of this up for the world. It’s taken me too long to realize that.”
CAPTAIN Erlund stood on the ship’s bridge watching Crellin—the planet catalogued as XGC2097—loom closer in the viewing screen.
It had been twenty years since he had led the rescue mission that brought Shayla Sheffield H
anes and Kessiga Wu back to Earth.
It had been twenty years since Constance Crellin had been left behind. Constance’s comrades had been beside themselves when he’d announced that if the woman didn’t come out of hiding he’d simply leave without her. He’d had a tight schedule to keep. It wasn’t his problem if a batty old woman wanted to exile herself from the human race.
“Captain Crellin,” he whispered, “you’ll be pleased to know the funding has finally come through.”
They landed in the same place they had before. The yellow sun was just setting when the hatch opened and Erlund and his crew emerged into the fresh air.
“It’s beautiful!” exclaimed one of his youngest crewmembers, a twentysomething biologist named Caroline Ojigwe. “I didn’t think there would be so much color.”
Erlund gave a curt nod. There would be time enough to gawk at the scenery later.
He trudged through a grove of twisted trees and soon laid eyes upon the cabin where Constance Crellin had lived. It was weathered and broken now, like a child’s toy left out to face the elements. Part of the roof had even caved in.
To Erlund’s horror, a stooped figure sat in a hand-hewn rocker on the sagging porch.
He ran toward it.
The old woman—older now—had white hair so thin that Erlund could see her scalp through it. Her gnarled hands lay in her lap, and her brown eyes gazed up at him in wonder.
“Daddy, is that you?” Her voice creaked like an old staircase.
Maintaining his professional composure, he said, “Captain Crellin, it’s me, Captain Erlund. Don’t you remember?”
“I’ve missed you, Daddy. Did you see them? They’re so beautiful.”
“Did I see what?” Erlund’s throat tightened. He had heard of the elderly developing dementia in ancient times but had never seen it for himself, as the phenomenon had long ago been eradicated by medicine.