Understanding the Stars

by Xela Culletto

  “You didn’t eat much,” Ronan remarked.

  “You either,” I said.

  “Yes,” he said. “I guess I’ve developed an American palate. We’ll have to make this trip quick before we both starve.”

  I told him I’d share my stash of junk food and he readily accepted.

  “Not too much though,” I joked. “You’re supposed to be the worldly one. Or otherworldly one, I guess.”

  “You’ll have to pry them out of my cold, dead fingers.”

  “Which is exactly what you’ll have if you try to eat one chip too many.”

  “Ooh, tough girl.”

  “I’ve been known to administer severe insults over a package of Oreos.”

  “Not insults,” he said, appalled. “Anything but that.”

  “It’s true,” I said seriously. “So I’d watch out for me if I were you.”

  “Oh, I have been,” he said.

  Ronan slept on the couch, insisting I take the bed. I was too exhausted to even be a little homesick. All I wanted was a pillow.

  We left early the next morning, hiring a big dusty black Land Rover to take us west. As we bumped along the dirt roads, I noticed the landscape gradually changing to red dunes, spotted with tall grasses, parched-looking bushes, and sprawling trees.

  We passed a slow-moving river and I saw unmistakable gray lumps poking up from the surface.

  “Ronan, look—hippos!”

  He seemed amused at my excitement, and as we watched one opened its enormous jaws, exposing its fearsome-looking teeth.

  The jeep turned away from the river and the next thing I knew I was gazing up at a giraffe, stretching its long neck up toward the tree branches. I felt like I was on a safari, and scrambled for the camera I had buried under one of the suitcases.

  I’d seen hippos and giraffes in the Denver Zoo, of course, but there was something about seeing them cageless.

  Before the drive was over, I saw a pride of lions, lazing in the shade of a tree, and a herd of zebras that watched us intently as we passed. For someone who’d grown up in a city, it was exhilarating.

  But our journey did end and we found ourselves in a small village. There were round thatched huts made from mud bricks, cows wandering freely about, and people doing all manner of things. Some children were crouching in the dirt, playing a sort of game. A small man rode by on a donkey, leading another bearing a load of plastic jugs. Two women were walking purposely away from us, one carrying a baby on her back and the other, a jug on her head.

  The excitement I’d felt during the drive fled, and I suddenly felt very out of place and alien. I decided to stay in the vehicle unless I was needed. To my surprise, though, Ronan didn’t get out either. Instead he disappeared inside the NeuralCom.

  “Um, Ronan?” I asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “What are we doing here? What’s the plan?”

  He lifted the computer from his head and looked at me.

  “Well, with the information I have, the best I can calculate is that the Innocent is here in this village, but I don’t exactly know his name. I’m trying to see if I can pinpoint his exact location, instead of just walking about randomly.”

  “Oh…okay. How long will that take?”

  “Just a second.”

  He settled back into the NeuralCom, but took it right off again.

  “Wow, that really was only a second.”

  He smiled. “The man we’re looking for is only 40 yards away. Follow me.”

  Grabbing my hand, we slid out of the car and walked quickly toward one of the huts. The children shouted at our appearance, and several people smiled at us.

  Undistracted, Ronan led me to an open hut and called inside.

  “Hello,” he said in a friendly tone. “Is anyone there?”

  I stole a peek inside and saw that the dwelling was empty, except for a straw rug on the floor, and a mosquito net encircling a bed.

  A tall, elderly man with a balding head and a graying beard stepped from the hut and regarded us. His face was etched with lines, but his eyes glinted with intelligence.

  “Good day, sir,” Ronan said. “Dumela rra. May I introduce myself? I am Ronan, and this is my friend Alex. We’ve come a long way to meet you.”

  The man continued to look down at us without expression.

  “Er—might I ask for your name, sir?”

  Silence.

  “Sir?” Ronan asked uncertainly. “Do you speak English? O bua sekgowa?”

  Just then a gaggle of children came running up to us, talking excitedly, and began examining us. One little girl held her hand out and I reached into my pockets and held out my hands to show her they were empty. One boy kept trying to touch my long hair, so I bent down and let him feel it. Abruptly, they all placed their hands on my head, and pet me like a dog.

  Ordinarily, this would have been a very awkward situation for me, but they were so exuberant, my only reaction was delight.

  Ronan had also been encircled by the children. They wondered at the sophisticated-looking “watch” he’d taken to wearing since we’d landed in Botswana (Solamure tech, I was sure). He was prepared for them, however, and produced a small bag of hard candies he must’ve picked up somewhere. He happily divvied them up amongst the eager faces. Once the sweets were gone, they ran off as quickly as they had come.

  The old man, so stoic before, now had a slightly amused expression on his face.

  “Bongani,” he said.

  “Er—what was that?” Ronan asked.

  “Bongani is my name.”

  Ronan grinned and held out a hand. Bongani took it, and they shook hands, each grabbing their own arm with their free hand.

  “It really is a pleasure to meet you,” Ronan said. “This is Alex.”

  Awkwardly, I held out my hand, and Bongani took it. Again, he took his own arm in hand as he shook—I scrambled to do likewise, but the gesture was over too quickly.

  Ronan spoke. “We must speak to you urgently.”

  “Tonight,” Bongani said.

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes. Now I am busy.”

  “It really is very important,” Ronan pressed.

  “Tonight,” Bongani replied with finality, and disappeared again into the hut.

  Ronan turned to me. “Well… at least we found him.”

  “How did you know all that stuff?” I asked. “Speaking another language, and the candy, and the handshake?”

  “I studied the customs a little. I thought it could be helpful in meeting him in his territory.”

  “I don’t suppose you ever thought to share that information with me?”

  “Oh, Alex,” he faltered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think… I’ve been so busy preparing that it didn’t really cross my mind that you would want to know about the native customs. But of course you do. I’ll give you some information this afternoon.”

  “Of course I want information,” I said crossly. “And not just about Botswana—I also want to know the plans and preparations you’ve made for the Kema’dor, and where you think we’ll go next, and what you’re planning to say to Bongani, and—well, pretty much anything else that I’ve been wondering about.”

  “Alex, this is my job. Protecting you on this trip is my job.”

  “And my job is to –what? Sit around and wait to for you to save me?”

  “No, of course not,” he said loudly. Then, more calmly, “You’re right. You’ll be safer is if you know what we’re up against.”

  We spent the afternoon under the shade of an Acacia tree. Ronan was very open and upfront with my questions, and while we were occasionally interrupted by an eager child from the village, we had a lot of time to talk.

  “So how much are you planning on telling Bongani about all of this?” I asked.

  “This is your mission. I think you should talk to him.”

  He was right. I’d been letting him take the lead on this, but this whole thing was my idea.

  “Right. Then how
much do you think I should tell him?”

  “As much as it takes to persuade him to come with us. Even then, he may not believe us. I was surprised how quickly you were to believe me.”

  “Well, you can be very persuasive—or maybe I’d always subconsciously wanted to run away with aliens,” I said, teasing.

  “I won’t have that proof with Bongani. I didn’t even know his name until an hour ago. But all we can do is warn him. He’ll have to make his own decision about what to do.”

  It made me nervous, the thought of talking to Bongani. I knew that it was the reason I’d dragged myself and Ronan halfway across the globe, but I hadn’t really thought about the part where I’d have to confront total strangers.

  “How much time do we have? Before the Kema’dor find him, I mean.”

  “They will probably be arriving tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  I had a sudden, brief flashback of lying on a table, surrounded by aliens, about to have my head cut open. A jolt of terror shot through me. I steeled myself, and pushed it away. I had known what I was risking.

  Still, hearing “tomorrow” made it much more real.

  “So… You said that these ones—these Kema’dor are more mercenary-like, right?”

  “Yes. But I don’t want you to worry. I’ve brought tech that will give us the advantage.”

  “Will you tell me what it does? Should I be ready to do anything?”

  “The main defense is just a device. Basically, it emits sound waves that only Kema’dor ears have receptors for. When they hear it, their bodies literally become paralyzed. No Kema’dor within fifty yards will be able to move a muscle.”

  “Sound waves? Really?”

  I didn’t mean to sound so skeptical, but it seemed like such a weak defense.

  “It will work.”

  “Why didn’t you use it when you rescued me before?”

  “I didn’t have it. I only just got it from Gamafor before this trip.”

  “Gamafor? The Solamure? You’ve been talking to him?”

  “Just videoconferencing. He sent the device—and a couple of other things—when I told him about this plan.”

  “I had no idea you were still in contact with him.”

  “He’s been busy—we both have. He’s down in Florida now, I think.”

  “Huh,” I said. “So we’re going to play these sound waves and then—what? Just take off? What about the people here?”

  “The Kema’dor aren’t interested in them—just Bongani. I’m sure they’ll remain out of sight, and leave the people alone. There’s a reason aliens have been on and off this planet for centuries, and humans have remained oblivious. Number one rule when visiting an inhabited planet: be stealthy.”

  “So they’ll just leave without anyone knowing they were here?”

  “I believe so.”

  I wasn’t so sure. Obviously I didn’t have the extensive background on dealing with aliens that Ronan had, but the interactions I’d had with the Kema’dor didn’t really give me the impression that they were the type that dealt with failure well.

  “And if the sound device fails for any reason,” Ronan said, “I have a backup plan.”

  “What’s that?”

  He smiled his half smile. “Run really fast.”

  I knew he was joking to try and lighten the mood, but I was more than a little worried. Suddenly, learning the native customs of Botswana didn’t seem so important.

  Chapter 18

  “So you’re really okay?”

  “Totally fine, Mom. Please try not to worry.”

  “It’s lonely here without you.”

  “I know. We’ll try to hurry.”

  “Be safe. I love you.”

  Bongani waited until after dinner before he allowed us into his hut to speak with him. I’d lost my nervousness of talking with him, the thought of the Kema’dor occupying most of my worry.

  We shook hands again, and all sat cross-legged on the floor of the hut. I launched right into an explanation of all that had happened to me since first meeting Ronan.

  Bongani listened patiently and without interruption. I finished somewhat anticlimactically: “I’m worried about other people—innocent people—who are being hunted by these aliens. And so that’s why we’re here.”

  The African sat in the darkening tent without saying anything—just gazing out the door with a far-off look in his eyes. I opened my mouth to speak again, but Ronan caught my eye and shook his head slightly. I closed my mouth and waited on my audience.

  After a few long minutes, Bongani’s body began to shake.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked, alarmed. “Are you okay?”

  He opened his mouth and the sound of deep husky laughter came out.

  I’d been expecting fear, worry, questions—pretty much anything but laughter.

  “You,” he said through chuckles, “are funny. I don’t know why you want to use your time teasing a harmless old man, but I think you should go now that you’ve done your joke.”

  Incredulous, I said, “You can’t seriously think we’ve come all this way just to—to play a joke on you!”

  I glanced at Ronan and he seemed much calmer than I felt.

  “Ronan—tell him. Show him something that will convince him.”

  Ronan virtually ignored me and stood up.

  “Thank you for your time, Dumela rra,” he said, and exited.

  I watched him leave, feeling a little betrayed, and more than a little annoyed, then turned back to Bongani.

  “I’m not here to tease you. What I said was true. You have to come with us. The aliens will be here soon,” I pleaded.

  Bongani just shook his head, turned his back, and began tinkering with the mosquito net that surrounded the bed, humming a little.

  Clearly, I’d been dismissed.

  Irate, I left the hut and found Ronan outside waiting for me.

  “Thanks for the support,” I spat.

  “Don’t be angry with me, Alex.”

  “We came all this way, and you just left! Left me hanging—left him to die! Of course I’m angry!”

  “Come away,” he said. “You’re attracting attention.”

  It was true—people milling about the village were beginning to stare at us.

  Reluctantly I followed him to where the Land Rover was parked. He spoke in a lowered voice.

  “You’re not going to change his mind. Further confrontation would be just as useful as banging your head against the side of his hut.”

  “But Ronan—he’s going to die. The Kema’dor will be here in a few hours, and they’ll take him. We can’t just let that happen.”

  “It’s his decision to make.”

  “But he doesn’t know, Ronan! If he did, he wouldn’t be staying!”

  Ronan gently clasped his hands over mine, and looked straight into my eyes. “You’ve done what you can do,” he said. “You can’t make people do what you want them to.”

  I wanted to argue more—to tell him that Bongani should be forced to come with us for his own good. That we had come all this way.

  But Ronan wasn’t going to yield, I could tell. This had been his plan all along: tell the Innocent the story, and let them decide how to act on it. He’d had no intention of requiring these people to save their own lives.

  Angrily, I yanked open the door to the vehicle and climbed in. Slamming it behind me was slightly satisfying, but I was distraught. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

  After a little while, Ronan quietly climbed into the seat next to mine.

  “We’ll stay, okay? We’ll stay and do what we can to help him. We may be able to get rid of the Kema’dor before they take him.”

  I pressed my lips together. It wasn’t what I’d hoped for—what if the Kema’dor just came back? —but it was something. And maybe—if Bongani witnessed something—it might convince him to leave with us.

  We pushed the seats down in the back of the Land Rover, and made up
a bed. Ronan insisted I sleep while he kept watch. But between the strange cricket sounds and the occasional hiss or snarl from somewhere much too close for comfort, I couldn’t fall asleep.

  Instead, I watched the sky out the window. It was utterly stunning: horizon-to-horizon filled with innumerable stars layered in untold depths. The Milky Way streaked across the sky like a hazy white rainbow.

  Looking at it now, it was easy to believe in extraterrestrial life. Almost obvious.

  But they weren’t up there. At least, not the ones I was worried about. They were here. Almost exactly here.

  Ronan stirred from his spot at the rear of the truck.

  “They’re nearly here,” he whispered, echoing my fears.

  I sat up instantly and looked around, but I saw nothing.

  “Where?” I whispered.

  “Coming in from the north.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Take this,” he said, and placed something heavy, elongated, and smooth into my hands. “But don’t use it unless you absolutely must.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a… weapon. All you need to do is press this button,” he slid my hand over the device until I felt a little knob, “and it will trigger. But don’t use it unless it’s an emergency.”

  More information would have been nice, but from the way Ronan was bustling around, hoisting who-knows-what, and double-checking on things, I knew time was short.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Put these on. They’re like night-vision goggles, but specially focused for Kema’dor life. Stay away from them. Once they’re all in range, I’ll trigger the sound device. Then we’ll go see about Bongani.”

  Again, it seemed like a weak plan, but who was I to question him? He’d faced off with the Kema’dor—and won—several times. All I’d managed to do was get captured.

  I slid the goggles into place and looked around. I could see pretty well—everything had a faint yellow glow to it—but nothing stood out to me as being Kema’dor.

  “To your right,” Ronan said so quietly I thought I’d imagined it.