What Price the Stars? Part 3

The sapphire sunlight of Gliese 832 sparkled in the pools of Glorious Founders Park like a million welding arcs. Michael wished that he’d heeded Jørgen’s warning and brought protection. Only Jørgen and Roerich came prepared, but Jørgen had immediately surrendered his antique sunglasses–wayfarers, he called them–to Alexi. She walked close beside him, their fingertips occasionally brushing. Li stalked along next to Michael, alert but stonily silent. Rosencrantz brought up the rear, grumbling and fussing to himself.

“This is intolerable!” he suddenly exclaimed. “Do none of you realize the purpose of that cruel stunt aboard the spacecraft?”

“That again?” Alexi retorted irritably. “There’s a huge velocity difference between this planet and Earth. Jørgen compensated for it.”

“Nonsense. He did it to distract us, so we wouldn’t notice his ploy,” Rosencrantz cried. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re inside a holographic simulation.”

“You can’t be serious!” Alexi said.

“Deadly serious. Not that I’d expect you to take a rational view of the situation. It would interfere with your sex game.”
Alexi’s jaw dropped. “Ty chertovski pedik!” she snarled.

Jørgen laid a soothing hand on her shoulder. “It is reasonable to demand a proof. Professor, what would suffice to dispel your doubts?”

“A controlled experiment.”

Heads wagged in agreement, including Michael’s. Absent evidence to the contrary, Rosencrantz was probably right. Even Alexi fell silent. She kicked at the dark pebbles of the path, as if to prove to herself that they were solid.

Roerich cleared his throat. “I may have a solution. When I was young, I had a foolish habit of carving my initials. I once made them in a secret place and never told anyone. As luck would have it, it is nearby. If the letters are there, your simulation theory is disproved.”

“Would you be kind enough to lead us?” asked Jørgen.

“No offense, Mister Pangloss, but for it to serve as a blind proof, you must remove yourself. We will make the search, and report.”

“No offense taken, Mister Roerich,” Jørgen replied genially. “You are correct. But who will go with me, to make sure that I don’t interfere?” His eyes shot to Alexi.

Li coughed. “I will accompany you,” he said, in a tone that brooked no discussion.

Jørgen took it in stride. “I will be glad for your company. The local drink is good. I know a place close by. Please join me.”

Li nodded, and left with Jørgen by a side trail. As soon as they were out of sight, Roerich pointed in the opposite direction. “It’s in there, past the drumhead plantation. Don’t mind the drumbeater bugs. They eat the drumhead spores.”

With Roerich in the lead, they plunged into a stand of alien trees thrumming from the pounding of hidden bugs. Michael deliberately lagged, the better to speak with Alexi.

“Don’t start on me, Mishka,” she hissed. “I know what I’m doing.”

“So does everyone else. How far will you go?”

“You need to ask? Jørgen’s got a hyperdrive. Whoever controls it will control the interstellar economy. I’ll flirt. I’ll fuck. I’ll sell my soul if I have to, but I’m going to win.”

“You believe Jørgen?”

“Yes.”

“Then do me a favor and be careful. I can’t help but wonder where he got his engine, and how he can afford to just give it away. There’s more to him than meets the eye. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

“I’d hate to lose,” she replied.

They emerged from drumhead plantation into a bright park. “There they are,” Roerich announced, pointing to a colossal alien tree. It resembled nothing more than a ten-story bronze carrot.

Rosencrantz looked up in consternation. “I thought we were looking for initials?”

“I carved them at the point where the main trunk branches. I was more agile in those days, and the tree smaller.”

“It’s twenty meters up! How will we see them?” Rosencrantz whined.

Michael laughed. “We climb, Professor. Come on.”

The group circled the towering tree. Michael selected an ascent route. It followed the line of a deep, spiraling rupture in the trunk. The ragged bark offered readymade handholds. He began to climb, with Alexi right behind him. But Rosencrantz and Roerich stopped at the base of the tree.

“Are you coming?” called Alexi.

“Ah, well, probably not,” Rosencrantz replied timorously. “Take a picture if you find it, please.”

“I hope you will forgive me, but tree climbing is a youngsters’ sport,” Roerich said.

Michael laughed. Alexi whispered foul imprecations down on both of them in her native Novaruskeen.

The climb was difficult. The craggy bark scuffed Michael’s ankles right through his thin socks. Alexi was only a little better off. Her fashionable suede boots protected her shins, but they were swiftly ruined. She bore the indignity with stoic calm, which she maintained until the bugs found her.

“Do I look like a drumhead tree?” she huffed, pausing to claw one of the persistent creatures out of her hair.

“Don’t smash them. It’ll attract a swarm.” Roerich hollered up.

“Now he tells us,” grumbled Alexi.

Michael reached the top of the main trunk, where a dished hollow was fringed by stout branches. He helped Alexi over the lip before they collapsed together, panting and nearly exhausted.

“This reminds me of the obstacle training we took together.” Michael said.

“We had gloves back then,” Alexi said ruefully, rubbing her filthy, lacerated hands.

Michael was no better off. “We’re going to need a surgery when we’re done. Let’s find that carving and get this over with.”

He began a slow circuit of the hollow. The going was treacherous, but the search area was small. A broad flat between two branches looked promising. When Michael scraped away a mat of debris, he uncovered a jumble of scars in the bark.

Alexi joined him. “This has to be it. What does it say?” she said.

Bending close, Michael realized that he could trace out a letter. “That’s for ‘John’,” he remarked.

“Why is the second initial ‘В’?” Alexi asked, peering under her borrowed glasses. She had a good eye, for the second letter was much confused.

Michael called out to Roerich. “Did you carve ‘JB’ instead of ‘JR’?”

“I did not carve ‘JB’. It has to be ‘JR’.” Roerich hollered back.

“Sorry, John. It’s ‘JB’.” Alexi confirmed.

Roerich paced back and forth far below, shaking his head and muttering. Suddenly, he looked up with a huge grin on his face. “I’ve got it! Does the lower loop of the ‘B’ look like an addition?” he yelled.

Alexi scrubbed at the second letter with her heel, knocking away the crumbly bark. Sure enough, the ghostly front foot of an ‘R’ became visible beneath the ‘B’. Alexi pumped her grimy fist. “You’re right. It is a ‘B’ carved over top of an ‘R’.”

Roerich laughed. “Bylok, you bastard!” he exclaimed. “My childhood rival was Javer Bylok. He must have come after me and defaced my initials.”

Michael was growing impatient. “I don’t think we’ll get a better proof than this. Professor, are you satisfied?”

Rosencrantz dithered. “I’m not convinced. Perhaps this rogue here is in on the plot!”

Alexi flew into a rage. “What!? Do you think this was easy? I’ve cut myself to ribbons to satisfy you. If you want a better proof, find it yourself!”

As she shouted the last, a drumbeater bumbled into her face. She angrily swatted it. Pungent yellow goo splattered her breast. A cloud of the golf ball-sized flyers immediately responded, smacking with their stout carapaces. They hit hard enough to hurt.

The thickest part of the swarm descended on Alexi. Before Michael could reach her, she stumbled forward into open air.
Michael lunged. He somehow caught her wrist. But his hand was slippery with muck.

“Grab the tree!” Michael shouted.

“I can’t!” Alexi squealed, and slid from his grasp.

His burden gone, Michael toppled backwards. He barely managed to catch himself on a branch. Blinking back tears, he crawled back to the edge, dreading what he would see below.

To his infinite relief–and equally infinite astonishment–he found Alexi very much alive, cradled safely in the arms of Jørgen Pangloss. He had appeared out of nowhere just in the nick of time to save her.

Who is he? Michael wondered, and not for the last time.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8