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  A Love Written In The Stars

  5-7 March 2007

PROLOGUE

       To those of us blessed with immense curiosity and a love of adventure, the night skies beckon with an irresistible call. We stand with our feet solidly planted on this ball of mud and rock that we call home, and long with our minds and hearts and souls to be "out there", away from the oppressive chains of gravity, flashing amidst the stars with the freedom of an interstellar eagle winging across an endless sky.

       Fate has played a cruel trick on those bold and spirited souls. It has cursed them with a science yet unable to harness the powers that grasp these dreams and turn them into reality. We are bound by our own infant technology to this one small world in a non-descript solar system in the outer regions of an average galaxy amongst billions.

       Because we are limited by our science, many of us limit our imagination as well. We look at the evening stars, and somehow conclude that we are unique, that we alone inhabit the infinity that is the omniverse. Some few are of greater openness, and know that there are indeed myriad other worlds teeming with life.

       Still, our self-imposed limits bind us, and we cannot fathom that among these other races are those that have developed the science that is still far in our future, a technology that allows them to leave behind their home planets and venture into the depths of the star-mottled blackness with the same ease with which we travel to a neighboring town.

       Such beings and races exist, and their own curiosity and love of adventure has sent them outward into the reaches of space to explore and to learn new things. In their travels, they have found many worlds. Most of them are sterile hulks circling about stars in orbits that forever deny them their own life. Even so, the travelers are in their tireless search finding that small minority of planets that the Infinite One has blessed with the stuff of life.

       One might conclude that there are but a few inhabited worlds. This is not so. The universe, and indeed our own Milky Way galaxy, are vast places, and though these worlds are but a small part of the totality, yet they number in the billions within what we call the "local group" of galaxies. On these living worlds are races that represent the full spectrum of life's diversity.

       Some are in the very dawn of their civilizations, without culture, with no purpose other than to survive to the next day. Some are beyond our remotest conception of advancement, wondrously elevated beings to whom we might seem no more related than the lowliest of microbes might be to us. Most, however, we would rightly call our brothers and sisters in the universal family of humanity.

       And now, in these most marvelous of days, these space-faring strangers have found us. Therein lies a tale.




CHAPTER 1: INTO THE NIGHT

       It's wisely said that often the anticipation is as joyous as the event. The excitement of the little ones as Christmas grows near, the happiness of the bride-soon-to-be, the restlessness of the soldier counting the hours until he forever leaves foreign soil for the too-long journey home. Imagine, then, the thoughts that fill the mind of a man of Earth who would soon be given over two days to explore at his leisure the wonders of an alien world in the company of the most wonderful lady in the universe.

       The story began on a cold February evening, in a private booth at a local restaurant, where I shared a fine meal with the star lady who had become the center of my life. It was a bittersweet time for us in the final hours of her two-week leave from her work on Korendor. We sipped our drinks slowly, gazing into each other's eyes. And I could wait no longer.

       "Will you forever fulfill my life, Cherished One?" I asked in the Old Words. For a long moment she said nothing, but the radiance of her perfect face spoke volumes. After what seemed to be eternity, she whispered, "Cherished One, you will fulfill my life forever." Our hands met across the table, and our new life as one was upon us.

       The news was shared with my closest Korendian friends, but by choice we did not want it spread beyond our inner circle. Plans were made, and a cover story was concocted that would bring me to Korendor for a "diplomatic" reception and a tour of Vrell City.

       The appointed hour arrived, 1 AM, March 5. One moment I was standing under the moonlit late winter sky, and the next I was stepping out of a portal aboard a ship that was completely new to me. Waiting for me beyond the safety line on the floor were the ever-lovely Lin-Erri, the Master Kalen-Li RETAN, and the Korendians' mathematical nonpareil, Orii-Val. Their expressions silently told me of their approval and support. Orii spoke first.

       "Welcome aboard, stranger. Long time no see. What has it been, a month?"
       "Let's see," I replied as I stepped off the platform and joined the group, "MassCom, January 30, as I recall. That's..."
       "Thirty-four days," he said.
       "What a mind," Lin-Erri interjected teasingly.
       "How very true, and yet, despite my unequalled brilliance, I remain humble. Isn't that amazing?"
       "Yes, amazing," she said, slowly shaking her head.

       We left the portal room and walked along a corridor that followed the contours of the ship's outer perimeter. I stopped at an observation window to watch Earth shrink to a small bluish half-disk, then disappear as the sun's light overpowered it. It occured to me that for all my travels around the outer reaches, this was the first time I'd been this far via spacecraft. Usually, it involved a fast portal transfer and zap, I was there. The sensation was at once exhilerating and unsettling because of the feeling of profound isolation that comes from being surrounded by nothingness.

       Lin-Erri joined me at the window and, apparently having sensed my thoughts, said, "One can't really appreciate just how big it all is until the only thing around is emptiness. Your astronauts had the comfort and security of their planet being close at hand. This is, as your people say, a whole new ballgame."
       "Indeed it is," I agreed wholeheartedly, then turned away from the window without a further thought.
       As we continued along the corridor, Orii asked if I had any apprehensions about leaving Earth. "No. Why should I?" I asked, puzzled at the query. Abruptly, the impact of his question and my response hit home. I stopped at the next window and looked at the reflection that stared back at me, at the striking Korendian visage.
       "No time wasted making the switch, I see. I never even noticed."
       "There's no reason that you should have. You're adapted perfectly to the form." We turned to the right, into a short aisle that emerged into the command deck. Three people, two men and a woman, were seated at long consoles arranged in a semicircle around the raised platform of the commander's station. The pilot, a stunningly beautiful lady, nodded acknowledgement of our arrival, and we went across the room to a segmented couch that occupied half the wall behind the control area.

       When we were seated, the pilot announced that we were approaching the Jump Site. I watched on the visiscreen as a superimposed gridwork aligned itself with a projected green circle at midscreen. "Acquisition complete. Jump in five... four... three... two... one..." As she said "zero", I experienced a fleeting sensation of electrical shock, barely discernible.

       On the visiscreen, to the left of the brilliant sphere of Korena, the tiny, whitish speck that was Korendor began to expand into a disk. I looked at my companions, and saw in them the same anticipation that was surging through me.

       "This is the first time I've been home in a year," Lin-Erri said with almost girlish excitement. Her joy wonderfully enhanced her already radiant beauty.
       "Yes, it has been far too long," the Master said as he stared unblinking at the growing globe.

        A question arose in my mind. "These jump sites seem to be well removed from the final destinations. Why is that?"
       Orii took the ball. "During a sub-space entry or exit, the equivalent to annihilation or creation of matter occurs within normal space. This causes an unavoidable distortion in the time-space continuum in the area surrounding the event. Also, the equipment used to perform the jump creates a wide field of energy that has proven destructive to unshielded communication and power systems. The effect varies as the square of the mass of the ship making the jump.
       "Rather than attempt to shield an entire planet's electrical and electronic systems, we elected to establish specific, unchanging jump points well out of the orbital plane. This also permits us to create standard databases for the guidance computers, rather than recalculating the route with each jump. Even with our computers, this involves time-consuming number-crunching, as you call it. It's easier this way.
       "Also, the brief sensation you felt as we jumped was due to the stasis field that suspends all biological activity while in transit. The effect of time-space distortion is acute within the ship, and it plays havoc with our perception and thought processes. Rather than risk errors due to faulty judgements, we, shall we say, freeze ourselves for the duration, and trust the computers."
       "Quite logical, Captain," I said, wondering if Orii would catch the reference.
       "Thank you, Mr. Spock." He did.

       We turned our attentions to the screen as the continental areas of Korendor resolved in the image. The planet now filled the view. We slowed as we neared the fringe of the dense atmosphere. From the pilot's console, messages and replies crackled between our ship and ground control. A small cordon of scouts met us and formed an escort as we descended. A royal reception, I thought. Kalen said, "We treat every ambassador with great honor and courtesy. This is the first time we've had a real opportunity to extend a formal welcome to you."

       On the screen, the spires and domes of Vrell City loomed over the horizon. And in that great city, there was a precious one who awaited my arrival.




CHAPTER 2: GETTING AQUAINTED

       34 miles to the east of the heart of Vrell City, the vast expanse of the city's spacecraft port spread to the limits of the screen. We moved across the field, and I watched as thousands of crafts passed below us, most of them built using variations of the domed-disc format. The uniformity of design was fascinating. Apparently, there's truth even on Korendor to the Earth adage, "If it works, don't fix it."

       We stopped over a hexagonally-outlined landing pad, and descended slowly, all of us breathless in anticipation of the soft thump that would signal the contact of the landing gear. When it came, a thrill like a lightning bolt surged through every atom of my being. We left the control area and stopped at the observation window at the end of the short hallway. Outside, a large group of people waited for our exit from the ship. We went to the right along the perimeter corridor, and travelled around perhaps 120 degrees of the ship's circumference.

       A sliding door on the inner wall opened as we approached, and we went through to a stepped ramp that descended from the hull to the sunlit ground. The Master went down first, followed by Orii and Lin-Erri. I took a long, deep breath and exhaled loudly, then went down the ramp toward my party waiting at the foot of the steps. As the hull of the ship rose above my head, the magnificence of this place began to renew itself in my mind.

       In the early afternoon sunshine, a warm breeze carried the fragrance of flowers from the gardens near the administration building to our south. I scanned the faces of the people awaiting our presence, noting especially the rows of children lined up in front of their elders, bouquets in hand, their young faces aglow with smiles. Kalen bade us to follow him, and we walked toward the people.

       One small girl broke free of the ranks and ran straight toward me, her little arms outstetched with her offering of flowers. She stopped about three feet in front of me, her sweet face radiating happiness, her young eyes wide with the wonder that only a child can know. I knelt to her level, accepting her gift with a soft word of thanks. She stood silently for a moment, then reached out to me, in the universal gesture of all children. The father in me emerged, and I swept her small body up in my arms. She unhesitatingly kissed my left cheek, then flashed a smile that far outshone Korena's meager light.

       As though it were a cue, the rest of the children ran en masse toward us, and the babble of young voices and laughter erased whatever tension might have existed. The adults came over then, and I felt a million times over the warmth and love that I had so long known in these gentle, wonderful people. I was one of them in every way.

       Only when the festival atmosphere began to subside did I notice the visiscreen globe-cameras flitting about to capture the occasion for the rest of the planet. They seemed to be gathering for some momentous event. And then a hand touched my shoulder, and a soft voice said, "Got a kiss left for me, mialana?"

       I spun around, instantly recognizing that long-awaited voice. Everything else was forgotten as I embraced my lady, my Astra-Lari. We were lost in our own universe. When we finally came back to the real world, we had no idea how long we had been locked in each other's arms. Orii-Val provided that information with one of his patented jibes as he tried to suppress his knowing smile.

       "Don't you two ever do anything else? All of Korendor has been watching this spectacle for fully two minutes, and I must say, I am deeply distressed by this flagrant display of unrepentant emotionalism. For shame!"
       "Two minutes? Is that all," I asked. I looked into Astra's eyes and said, "Mialani, we must be slipping."
       "Indeed, good sir. However, I suspect we're just out of practice. If Orii will be kind enough to serve as our unofficial time-keeper, I'm sure we can better that effort."
       "I haven't the merest doubt of it," I agreed. In response, Orii stared at us, slowly shaking his head. "Emotions. Utterly useless."
       "Is it true," I asked him, "that the last time you were on Earth, you got a love letter from a computer?"
       Before he could reply, Astra injected, "Are you kidding? Orii-Val's a veritable lothario of the silicon set. He's broken CPU's in every parallel port on a thousand planets."
       He winced at her atrocious pun, and was raising his finger to make a comment when Lin-Erri contributed, "Orii, you're getting slow. Twenty years ago you'd have had an answer ready before she finished speaking."
       "I do hope his problem isn't terminal," I offered in keeping with the moment.
       "No," Astra continued mercilessly, "he's just getting software he thinks."

       At that point, Lin-Erri drew a short line in the air and said, "Lovers one, cynics zero." Orii stared at us with feigned resignation on his face and begged, "Please be kind to an old man." In response, Astra went up to him and planted a playful kiss on his cheek, then caressed his head and said soothingly, "There, there, grampa, we still love you."
       "Aggghhhh, that word again. Is there no respite?" He threw up his hands in a considerably overplayed gesture of exasperation, and looked toward Kalen for moral support. The Master offered only a shrug of his shoulders and a sympathetic half-smile, though his eyes betrayed his amusement.

       With that moment of play done, Karlon-Remi, the Director of Vrell City (the mayor, more or less), officially bade us welcome to his fair borough, and extended an invitation to us to join him in an evening of feast and fun at his home, which we of course instantly accepted. He then introduced us to several others, and as names and positions were given, I began to appreciate how significant an event our visit to Korendor was considered.

        And then, when formalities had been accomplished, Astra and I broke away from the elite and went over to the just plain citizens that formed the vast majority of the crowd. They were a veritable fountainhead of questions about Earth and its people. They were immensely and insatiably curious about our philosophies, religions, lifestyles, entertainment, games, literature, government, the entire range of human interests.

       As we talked, I formed unshakeable bonds with these marvelous people, because despite our physical differences that render us alien to each other, in the spirit we are kin. They experience in their own lives every feeling that we know -- love, fear, sadness, anger, joy, even on occasion the undesirable ones such as hate and distrust. They are not the perfect, godlike entities of some tales, but fallible human men and women striving for goals. They know elation in their successes and disappointment in their failures.

       The one thing I did not sense in any of them was resignation or despair. Such things are unknown on Korendor, because above all each of them is aware that in the Infinite One's creation, they are the undisputed architects of their own destinies. Failure is looked upon as simply an opportunity to try again, with a lesson learned.

       The trappings of human misery and hopelessness are not to be found. There is no alcoholism, no drug addiction, no mental illness, no suicide. The Korendian people are too full of life and love to permit such things. In this they are far and away our superiors. Yet, this is not because we are lesser. It is simply because in our ignorance we can't perceive that there's a better way to live.

       Meeting and talking with these wonderful people instilled in me a new appreciation of the value of life, of seeking out all it has to offer, of turning its downs into ups, of being the best me that I can possibly be. It was a rare and precious gift indeed.



            


© 2009 Robert P. Renaud -- all rights reserved