Tin Star (6 page)

It was true. One of the most remarkable things that I noticed about the Yertina Feray was the lack of children. No one wanted to breed in such a lost place. The few that were here were likely to never see their own home worlds. They grew up deprived of anything but frontier culture.

“But a person could live there,” I said.

“You could. But the land is so depleted from the stripping of the planet that not much grows,” he said. “Some insects and organisms. But even the animals left that place.”

“Except alin flowers,” I said. “On the Dren Line. I looked it up.”

The flower was the only bright thing in my bin. I’d learned everything on how to care for it. It was a difficult task because the alin was not an easy plant to keep alive. I’d even been forced to give a cutting of it back to Tournour in order to get a bit of soil to help it thrive. I had been surprised to discover that it was a rare plant and had some interesting and potent medicinal uses, especially its pollen.

“Yes, but not enough of them to distill their pollen into any real use,” Heckleck said. “That would be worth something.”

I could see Heckleck calculating the value of an abundance of alin flowers and then sighing at the impossibility of it ever happening.

“If it were easy to settle on any planet and make it a home, then there would be more than Five Major Species,” Heckleck said. “The map is always changing.”

I liked when Heckleck said that. It was comforting. It was as though you could accidentally find yourself in the right place, if it was the right time. The Yertina Feray had been on the good side of the map once, and nothing meant that it wouldn’t be again.

I put my hand on the metal of the floor and thought about Quint. The Yertina Feray, Quint, and I all had something in common. We’d been left behind.

“The Yertina Feray is lucky to be at a good crossroads in the known galaxy. It’s a useful transfer point for light skips between the fringe of the Central Systems and the farthest Outer Rim systems. But other than that, we’re a pretty useless place to be now,” Heckleck said.

Which meant that there was a steady enough flow of people on the station for it to be safe. It would survive even in the leanest of times. I had heard tales of other space stations that were not so fortunate when the planets they surrounded had been stripped to nothing. Those stations had been abandoned, and the people on them had been left to die.

Heckleck rubbed his back wings together. When he did that and made a mournful sound, I had learned that it was the equivalent of a Human sigh. Whenever he talked about the politics and history of the known galaxy, he rubbed those wings a lot.

“It’s so confusing. Humans aren’t Minor because Earth wants to be left alone, and because I became a colonist to try to make us Minor, now I can’t go home.”

The rules of the galaxy had been made up long ago. The first worlds to travel and settle were the Major Species. Those Major Species fell in and out of power. They passed off power, keeping the center of the map rotating like a fiery ring of suns. They stretched their reach as far as they could. But new planets were always being discovered. New life. New civilizations.

“If you ask me, any species that is capable of space travel should be called Major,” Heckleck said. “This Imperium will be the death of every Minor Species.”

7

Thado was pruning his plants and trees as I stared at Quint below.

I stepped onto the gel floor and closed my eyes, imagining for a moment that I was on a planet. The thing about the gel floor is that you had to adjust your sense of balance. That’s what made it feel so real. Once balance was achieved, I stepped toward the window slowly, as though I were a ship on approach. I liked to trick my eyes and see the planet get larger. When I got close to the window, I slipped off my shoes and stepped right into the potted flower box, wiggling my toes in the dirt.
Dirt.
How it made memories of Earth rush back. My whole life had been made of dirt and now it was measured by the sheer lack of it. I was starving for dirt.

I put my hands up to the window, pressing my palms flat against it. It was thick—too thick to feel either the coldness of space or the warmth of the weak sun. I put my forehead on the window and opened my eyes. If I squinted just right, I could trick myself into thinking that I was falling freely through space, that I was tumbling toward that planet. It was the only way that I could ever feel free, even for one small moment, from my circumstances. It was the only moment where I remembered—for a flash—what it was like to be Human and felt released from the anger that I had toward Brother Blue and what he’d done to me. He was out there. Somewhere. One day he would pay for it.

It was hard to think of what course of action I could take. I could not go back to Earth for help. I had no currency or connection to hitch rides with the Humans who roamed. Sometimes, I thought that my best strategy would be to go to one of the Children of Earth colonies first. But all of my attempts to communicate to the other Children of Earth colonies had been futile. Something was always in the way. Transmissions were interrupted by solar flares, or the relay was out of range, or there was just white noise.

I rested my head against the window, alone with my dark thoughts, trying to push them into space. As I entered my imaginary life, I heard a cough. At first I didn’t turn around.

“I am supposed to arrest you,” Tournour said. “It’s forbidden to get so near the plants.”

I said nothing. If he were going to arrest me, he would not have announced himself. I had been working mostly nights so I had not crossed paths with him in a while. Though we rarely spoke when we did meet, it always made me feel safer when I ran into Tournour on my errands. Often, he showed up at the end of a hallway or at the entrance to a hangar just when I was most scared. There he’d observe me, but not interfere.

I heard him rustle and move closer. Then I heard him unsnap his boots, and in the next moment he was standing with me in the plants.

“Interesting,” he said. “It does feel nice.”

I didn’t have to answer. In my dealings with him, I’d learned that Tournour just liked to talk sometimes. Besides, if I said anything he might be obliged to haul me in. If I didn’t speak, it could be as though I didn’t exist.

We stood there for what seemed like hours, but was likely only a handful of minutes. Though he was looking at the planet with his eyes, I could feel that his antennae were turned toward me.

I settled back into being lost, looking out at the inky blackness and the beauty of the planet we orbited. Suddenly the black was cut by a glint. It was an object coming into view as it came around the planet. It flashed. It went from blue to orange. For a moment, my eyes tricked me and I thought that the object had come from the planet’s surface.

“There’s someone down there,” I said excitedly, breaking the silence.

But that was impossible because I knew there was nothing down there anymore. Not even a colony. Any settlers had been moved to the Yertina Feray more than one hundred years ago.

I could feel Tournour’s attention shift to the object, too. In unison, we both pressed closer to the window, as though that would make the object become clearer to us. It was a ship. It must have light skipped into the system on approach from the other side of the planet.

“What is that?” I said. It looked like no ship I’d ever seen.

“What we saw was an explosion. It’s just been destroyed.”

I followed his finger as it pointed to the object, now drifting closer in pieces.

“No, it can’t be a ship, it’s not moving, and it’s floating. Like an asteroid.”

“That’s just debris. Look, there is a bigger ship.”

Sure enough there was a bigger ship. The biggest I’d ever seen in my time on the Yertina Feray.

Tournour’s body tensed, he released a scent.

I immediately felt a calm rush over me.

He clicked his communiquer on his wrist to check in with his superior, and I could hear a whispered set of orders being issued to him. Then he stepped out of the planter and began shaking the dirt off his feet. By the way that Tournour’s mouth was set, I thought that he was angry. Perhaps angry at me. And then I saw the tremor in his hand. He wasn’t angry. He was scared.

“What is it?” I said. I meant the ship, but I also wanted to know what scared him.

He looked up at me as he put on his boots.

“The Imperium has reached us.”

I turned and looked back out the window. I could see the ship more clearly now. It was enormous. It was clearly some kind of warship. It had battle damage on it, and it was heading for the station. It didn’t take long to see the Imperium banner on its side.

The Imperium had expanded and seized control, even all the way out here. Though we’d technically been under their jurisdiction since they’d dismantled the League of Worlds, no one thought that an Imperium warship would ever come this far.

I felt as though I should be more panicky than I was. Somehow the calm remained. I felt clearheaded. I thought about what needed to be done before that ship docked, and then I became overwhelmed with excitement. This could be good news for me. The Imperium actually arriving meant big changes in business and more opportunities for me to possibly make my exit. I could be closer to answers. For the first time in forever, my heart seemed light. But I could tell that Tournour did not feel that way, and I knew that Heckleck, with his myriad of conspiracy theories would not be happy with the Imperium’s arrival either.

Tournour turned to leave me there, but stopped and looked back at me.

“Are you all right? How do you feel?” Tournour asked.

“Calm,” I said.

“Of course you do,” he said. He no longer looked scared.

I stepped out of the dirt but didn’t bother to brush any of it off. I picked up my shoes and made my way to the lift.

I had only one thought. Find Heckleck and let him know.

The map was changing.

8

The Yertina Feray had been invaded, but there were no explosions when the Imperium arrived. The only thing that got louder were the announcements that blasted all over the station intercom every hour upon the hour.

“Glorious citizens of the Imperium: We are here as friends. We are interested in peace and prosperity. We welcome an ongoing dialogue.”

The dialogue, apparently, was not with the underguts. It took the Imperium days to even make their way down to the guts of the station. They were in dark green uniforms. They were aliens from all the Major Species and all the Minor Species who were closely collaborating with them. They came in with batons and knocked on everyone’s bins.

“We are registering you for our records. Think of it as a census.” The registration would begin right away.

A rumor spread that jobs could be had. One could get a quick exit pass to go to the Central Systems, now fully under Imperium occupation. They were looking for workers to work on planets with certain atmospheres and gravities. One could work in exchange for a ticket and travel pass off of the Yertina Feray and gain protection from the Imperium regardless of species.

I’d settle for any planet; especially if it got me moving toward finding Brother Blue or led me to one of the Human colonies. I wished that my mother and sister were out there, waiting for me.

“It’s a war that does not feel like a war,” Thado said when I snuck up to the arboretum for my fix of dirt.

“What does it mean?” I asked. “Are we free?”

“No,” Thado said.

“I hear they are offering good hard work. We just need to sign up.”

“They’ve made sure to try to tie us all even tighter to them,” he said.

On my way out, he gave me a basket of fallen fruits and vegetables for those of us stuck in the underguts of the station. It was a big kindness, and I would not forget it.

I made my way back to the underguts where Heckleck was waiting for me. I told him of my plan.

“This is it! Isn’t it wonderful we could be leaving soon!”

“Safer here. Collaborators who control the fringe of an empire are easier to manipulate than tyrants at the center,” Heckleck said.

I didn’t care if there were Minor Species collaborating with the Imperium. All I knew was that Brother Blue was out there and travel was denied to me as long as I remained poor and stuck as I was. Signing up for hard labor could at least get me moving. It was about a six-month contract with a promise of settlement permits when the contract was fulfilled.

Every Minor Species alien living in the underguts had their opinion. The more the aliens talked and passed along rumors, the more Heckleck rubbed away. He was more agitated lately. He spent hours in his bin, organizing and reorganizing his things.

As for me, I had a plan for myself. Heckleck had joined me and watched as I started packing my few pathetic things into a small bag.

He began rubbing his wings. His mournful song did not stop as he spoke.

“You’re packing,” Heckleck said. “Where are you going?”

“They’re giving passes to go work places and eventual resettlement,” I said. “And you know anywhere off of here—that’s where I want to go. I’m going to get out of here.”

“They’re giving out death sentences,” Heckleck said. “I’ve seen this before. Don’t move until you know how everything has landed.”

“They’re offering work.”

“Hard labor perhaps. Work that will kill you on planets that are unsuitable for your kind.”

“I am strong. I am young.”

“You should go in the other direction if you go anywhere,” Heckleck said. “Go to the Outer Rim. Disappear.”

I had always thought of Heckleck as endowed with an inner strength that I could depend on. But something out there, in the galaxy, frightened him enough that he kept himself here. The Yertina Feray was known, and there was a comfort in that. But beyond this station was where I needed to go if I were to ever have peace in my heart.

“I can’t,” I said. “There is something that I have to find out.”

“Revenge is a good motivator, but it always disappoints in the end,” Heckleck said. “Trust me. I tried it once.”