The Stars That Beckon

by Kevin J Simington

  Genesis was fully stocked with survival gear, and the shuttle team had brought pop-up two-person zip-huts, sleeping bags, portable cookers, camp stools and coolers full of food for their brief stay. The group selected a grassy spot under some large, shady trees about 50 metres from the shuttle and began making camp. Twelve pop-up zip-huts were quickly arranged in a large circle, their entrances facing inwards. One of these held their cookers and other equipment. It only took 20 minutes to get themselves completely set up, and after the camp was established the group stood gazing out at the large park surrounding them.

  “Now what do we do?” asked Martinez.

  “One of the priorities has got to be collecting and testing some of the fruit and other potential food,” said Zac. “Regina, this is your area; what do you want us to do?”

  “It’s not really my area, but unfortunately I’m the best you’ve got,” she answered, tying her long, grey-streaked hair back into a ponytail, ready for action. Then she bent down and pulled out some resealable plastic bags from a backpack. “I want to give everyone a collection bag. As you explore the area today, collect samples of fruit and berries and anything that looks edible. Bring them back to camp and I will test them for toxins. Please don’t eat anything until I’ve given it the all-clear.”

  Kit said, “By all means, let’s do some exploration, folks, but nobody is to wander off on your own. There are four armed security personnel here, plus Zac and I also have sidearms. Please make sure you are with someone who is armed at all times. We don’t know what kind of predators this planet may contain. Let’s meet back here at 1300 for lunch.”

  They split up into three groups and headed out in different directions, ensuring that each group had at least one armed member. Prisha, Regina, Leonidis and Kit headed west, to investigate the farmland. Grizzle, Jaz, Martinez and Boyd decided to do a circuit of Central Park and collect samples from the various fruit trees throughout the park. The remaining three, Zac, Keo and Dylan, headed to the beach. Keo and Zac had brought some fishing gear from the Genesis equipment store, and they were determined to be the first colonists to catch something on their new planet.

  The three of them left the park and walked across the four concentric streets on the eastern side of town. Beyond the last row of houses, there was a 50-metre stretch of short grass and then a line of low sand dunes sparsely dotted with vegetation. The vegetation was green but unidentifiable. As they crested the sand dunes, Keo stood still and simply said, “Wow! This is truly a paradise!”

  It would be difficult for anyone to disagree. They had emerged onto the southern corner of a gently curving beach. To their right, the beach curved tightly around to end in a grassy headland that was about 20 metres high and extended about 200 metres into the ocean. To their left, the beach extended as far as the eye could see, in a very gentle curve. The sand was the same fine consistency of tropical beaches on Earth but had a light pink-apricot colour. The water was not the dark green or blue of Earth, but a vivid aqua, and white-capped, rolling waves were bending around the headland and breaking across the beach in long, peeling lines of swell.

  “Forget fishing, my friend,” said Keo. “Who brought the surfboards?”

  “That’s definitely something we might have to work on,” said Zac. “I don’t think surfboards were high on their priority list when they stocked Genesis for this expedition.”

  About 100 metres to the left of their position, a deep-water gutter was carrying water from the breaking waves back out to sea, so they decided that it was the perfect spot to make their first casts. After walking to the spot, Dylan, who showed no interest in fishing or even talking, set himself up on the nearest sand dune and kept watch, with his rifle slung over his shoulder and a pair of optical scanners in hand. The other two walked closer to the water, left their fishing gear on the dry sand and then ambled down to the water’s edge, standing ankle-deep in the tropical water.

  “It’s beautiful!” said Keo.

  “Like a warm bath,” agreed Zac.

  Keo bent down and cupped some water in his hands and smelt it. “It has a different kind of smell,” he said. “Definitely salty, but there’s something else as well. The ocean must have a different mix of minerals from the seas back on Earth.”

  Zac smelt it and agreed. “It reminds me of the water in limestone caves I once explored in South Australia, except it’s salty.”

  After retrieving their fishing rods, Zac and Keo cast out into different edges of the gutter and began reeling their lures in. Keo had a near hook up almost immediately, but whatever it was spat the lure. Then, on their second casts, both of their lures were hit hard and they both hooked up. The rods bent as they fought the fish in, with both men yelling and yahooing in exuberance. They both successfully landed their fish and hauled them up onto the wet sand to inspect them. Both fish were the same species: long, thin, streamlined fish about a metre long, with perfectly tubular-shaped silver bodies, about 5 cm in diameter. They had a strange torpedo-shaped snout, three sets of red pectoral fins down the sides of their bodies, and a vertical red tail.

  “They look a bit odd,” said Zac.

  “They look tasty to me,” said Keo, who had been privileged to grow up in a part of the world where it was still safe to catch and eat fish from the sea.

  “Same here,” said Zac. “That looks like white flesh to me, and that’s always a good sign.”

  Keo changed the lure on his rod to a “bottom bouncer” and cast it out. He began jigging the rod sharply up and winding the reel a few times as he lowered the tip back down, then letting the lure rest on the bottom for a few seconds before repeating the process. After casting it out a second time, he had only completed his first jigging pattern when the line went tight and stayed tight. Zac reached over and felt it, and said, “I think it’s snagged on something.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” said Keo, as he started to wind it in.

  The rod tip was bent over, and it felt like a dead weight on the end until suddenly the line accelerated sideways.

  “Hey!” said Zac. “You’ve definitely got something! Keep winding!”

  Keo wound the line in, as whatever it was zipped left and right, backwards and forwards.

  Finally, Keo pulled the fish up on to the wet sand and they both looked down at it. It was round and flat like a dinner plate, with a protrusion out the front like a shovel, and a fan-shaped tail out the back.

  Zac said, “It’s a mixture between a flounder and a ray and a ... um, I don’t know exactly.”

  “It’s got a shovel for a head,” said Keo. “It’s now officially called a shovel head.”

  They decided not to fish any more, in case they kept catching fish that would later prove to be inedible. They cleaned and gutted the two fish, finding that they had scales and intestines similar to any fish on Earth. Placing the fish in an instant cooler, they walked back to the corner of the beach and spent some time exploring around the rocks on the shoreline of the headland. They harvested two varieties of shellfish from the rocks, as well as three different species of seaweed and a jar of seawater for analysis.

  All three groups arrived back at camp with collection bags filled with specimens, and lots of information to share. Martinez, Boyd, Grizzle and Jaz had collected six different specimens of fruit and three types of berries from around the park. One of the fruits looked very similar to an orange, and another looked like some kind of small plum, but the rest were unknown and exotic-looking. They reported having seen and heard numerous varieties of birds as well as a small furred creature, about the size of a large mouse, scurrying through the underbrush.

  Prisha, Regina, Leonidis and Kit returned from their exploration of the farming plots to the west of the town with significantly less produce. The farming plots were completely overgrown with weeds and long grass, offering almost no clue as to what had once grown there. The only exception was one corner of a field, where Regina had identified what looked like ordinary potato plants and had successfully dug
up four large potatoes. On the edge of one of the fields, Leonidis had found some small brown berries that they had bagged for analysis. They also reported seeing many species of exotic birds and two types of small lizards.

  As everyone talked about what they had seen on their walks, Regina tested the specimens that had been brought back, placing a small sample of each into her portable bio-tester. Each test took less than 30 seconds and provided her with a full digital analysis of the chemical compounds and microbial content of each sample. By the time everyone had finished eating the energy bars they had unpacked for lunch, she was able to proclaim everything safe to eat, except for the brown berries that Leonidis had found, which contained concentrated levels of melataxane, a deadly toxic alkaloid, as well as high concentrations of oxalates, which cause immediate swelling of the lips and tongue.

  “We’ll have to warn the colonists not to touch these berries,” said Regina. “Their toxicity is extremely high. A single berry would be enough to kill a grown man in a few minutes.”

  Once the majority of the produce had been declared safe for consumption, the group tasted each of the fruits and berries, with only one of them, a yellow and green striped, ovoid fruit, proving to be either unripe or permanently unpalatable. A piece of both types of fish was also fried up and tried by most of the group, with both fish being declared to be delicious. The torpedo fish (as it was dubbed) had sweet, tender white flesh, whereas the shovel head had a darker, firmer meat that almost tasted like pork. The shellfish and seaweeds were also edible and extremely tasty.

  The afternoon was spent harvesting more of the edible fruit and berries from around the park, while others went to the beach to fish. Towards evening some gathered firewood as others cooked dinner. The meal that night was a feast. Fish, shellfish, fried potatoes, boiled seaweed seasoned with salt, and freshly picked fruit. Most of the group could not remember the last time they had eaten that much fresh produce. As the sun began to set, they lit the fire and sat around it, watching the first stars slowly appear in the darkening sky.

  “This is amazing,” said Jaz, taking a deep breath of the fragrant night air. “We are so lucky to be here.”

  “We are indeed blessed,” agreed Keo.

  As the fiery pink and orange glow of sunset began to fade towards black, an eerie cry emanated from somewhere to the west of their position. It was a high-pitched, keening wail, almost like a child’s cry. Immediately it was echoed by another cry to the south, and suddenly a chorus of cries erupted from every direction, a howling cacophony of blood-chilling howls. The four security personnel stood to their feet and picked up their rifles, and Jaz huddled a little closer to Zac.

  “There’s still a lot we don’t know about this planet,” said Leonidis. “No one is to leave the perimeter of our camp tonight. Those of us who are armed will take two-hour sentry duty shifts and keep the fire stoked. Let’s stay safe, people.”

  Over the next few minutes, as the sky lost all colour and night fell like a blanket, the eerie cries died away and were finally silenced. In their place, a myriad of exotic nocturnal noises arose; croaks and pops and whistles and screeches. As the group sat around the fire, listening to the unfamiliar sounds of nocturnal creatures wakening and beginning their night-time activities, the colonists were reminded just how alien this world was.

  Over the next couple of hours, tiredness took its toll on the group as, one by one, they retired to their zip-huts and bedded down for the night. Zac took the first watch, and by 10:30 only he and Jasmine were left by the fire. In retrospect, Zac would be the first to admit that not much actual watch-keeping took place on his shift. He and Jaz had not been alone together for several days, and the passion of their newfound love drove them into each other’s arms. All they had done was kiss up to this stage in their relationship, and Zac figured the romantic setting of a campfire under a star-filled sky might be the perfect time to move things forward. When he gauged that the mood was right, he moved his hands down her body. Jaz moaned softly and began to respond, but then pulled sharply away and stood up, panting heavily.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, disappointed, standing up himself.

  “Nothing,” she said, still flushed with desire. “I’m just tired, that’s all. I think I’ll go to bed, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure,” said Zac, completely puzzled.

  Jaz leaned forward and gave him a long, lingering kiss, and then broke away and walked towards her zip-hut. Halfway there, she turned and said, “I’m an old-fashioned girl, Zac. I’m a dove, not a lyrebird. I believe some things are worth waiting for.” She gave him a coy smile, then turned and disappeared into her zip-hut, leaving Zac literally scratching his head. A dove not a lyrebird? he thought to himself. Now I’m supposed to be an ornithologist! Why does everything have to be so damned complicated?

  But he had no idea how complicated things were about to get.

  41

  Nova Days 2 And 3

  The next morning the campers were woken by the strangest of bird calls. As the first traces of a stunning pink dawn lit the sky, the surrounding trees erupted into what sounded like a hundred or more children in high-pitched voices, calling out, “Who me? Who me?” The campers all emerged from their zip-huts at the same time, rubbing bleary eyes and searching the surrounding treetops for the source of the cacophony. Eventually, with the use of optical scanners, they identified the culprits. They were relatively small, innocuous-looking birds with a blazingly bright pink breast and almost incandescent yellow plumage on each side.

  “Well, one thing’s for sure, we won’t ever have trouble identifying when the sun has set or risen on this planet,” said Martinez.

  Someone suggested they call the bird the sunrise bird, but the majority thought it should be named for its distinctive call, and so it was christened the hoomie bird. It had rained briefly overnight, a heavy tropical downpour that had soaked the ground, but the morning dawned with clear skies and the promise of another warm, tropical day.

  Over a quickly eaten breakfast—energy bars and cups of tea—the watch keepers reported on the night that had just passed. The use of night goggles had allowed them to identify the regular movement of large, dog-sized creatures prowling through the park, their glowing eyes often looking towards the camp, but never coming closer than 100 metres to the campfire that had been kept alight all night.

  “Did you sight anything, Zac?” asked Kit.

  “Er ... no ... nothing to report,” said Zac uneasily, glancing briefly at Jaz. He had spent most of the rest of his watch staring blankly into the fire, trying to work out what Jaz had meant.

  Once breakfast was over, they split into groups again and spent the rest of the morning exploring the town and its surrounds. In the afternoon, Kit’s group took the shuttle and circled the township in ever-widening circles, looking for evidence of anything that might pose a risk to the proposed colony. By the time they were sitting around their campfire that night, no one had found anything that would suggest that Seahaven would be unsuitable as a location for their colony.

  The following morning, following a quick breakfast of energy bars, the day quickly developed into a frenzy of activity. Kit used the shuttle comm to report back to Genesis, and it was decided to begin transferring the colonists immediately. The plan was to disembark all the colonists at Central Park and then for Genni to land Genesis on the selected rise of land to the south-west of the town. Kit, Zac, and Martinez were to fly the shuttle back to Genesis to take part in the exodus, as each of them would be needed to pilot or co-pilot a shuttle. The remainder of the group were to remain in the park and help organise the colonists upon arrival. Once Genesis had landed safely, things were going to get even more crazy, with equipment and ground vehicles being unloaded and various field campsites being set up.

  Zac said a quick goodbye to Jaz, and less than 30 minutes later he was on board Genesis, helping to load people into the shuttle. George Leonidis and the beefy, sullen Dylan Dresner had returned with them as
well and had disappeared as soon as they landed, probably to report back to Wisecroft, who had been strangely quiet in recent days.

  The colonists were all buzzing with excitement and came on board carrying the few personal items they possessed. The trip back down to the surface was equally uneventful. Halfway down, Kit turned to Zac and said, “You’re quiet this morning. What’s up, Doc? Cat got your tongue?”

  He looked at her with a troubled expression. “You’re a girl ...” he began.

  “Excellent piece of deduction. I can see now why they awarded you a doctorate.”

  “Yeh, well, maybe you can help me work out what’s going on. On the first night at Seahaven, Jaz and I were ... well ... you know ... getting along pretty well ...”

  “I’m getting a vivid image. Go on.”

  “Well ... I thought things were progressing nicely ...”

  “I’m getting an even more lurid picture. Hurry up and get to the point.”

  “... and then, all of a sudden, she stood up and said something about being a dove and not a lyrebird, and then she said goodnight and went to bed.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Kit.

  “Is that all I get? ‘Uh-huh’?”

  “What don’t you understand, Doc?”

  “Everything!”

  “You obviously don’t know much about birds—of the feathered variety. Doves mate for life. Once they’ve found a partner, that’s it. They stay together ‘until death do us part’. Lyrebirds, on the other hand, will have it off with a different mate every season. There’s no commitment, whatsoever. You starting to get the message now?”

  “She wants commitment?”

  “Bingo! The lights have switched on at last!”

  “But I am committed! I’m committed to her and to Melody.”

  “But does she know that? And how does she know you’re there to stay? That you’re committed to her and to her alone from here on?”