Rootless by Sean Mulroy
This story originally appeared in Alien Dimensions #11
The planet was unnamed and terrestrial, with a thin atmosphere composed of only three layers. It was a barren world, the entire surface consisting of high rocky mountains and deep valleys cut with sharp edges. The starship had been slowly orbiting it for the past two days
The planet would remain unnamed.
A silver flyer left the starship to gracefully stream through space then penetrate the planet’s exosphere, thermosphere and stratosphere; eventually plunging into a murky tangerine sky to gently dock on the dry craggy exterior. Landing coordinates were carefully chosen. After millennia of pointless roaming, the spacefarers had learnt to be careful; even now, when not necessary.
Nine humanoids disembarked from the flyer, perhaps becoming the first organic entities to set foot on the terrain. An odd-looking bunch; long-limbed and spindly, muscle atrophy being a recessive trait they were unfortunately susceptive to. Peculiar physical attributes were noticeable; such as small teeth and large eyes which glowed a reddish hue, having evolved that way for improved night vision. A genetic mutation from long ago made their skin radiation resistant.
Two little ones, once on the rocky ground, both ran away from the rest.
“Not too far children!” a female voice yelled.
“Let them go,” insisted an aged and hoarse male voice. “Memories of this day may serve them on another, one none of us will be alive for. Others will play our roles then, perhaps those two will…” The elderly voice seemed to speak from experience. He, like most spacefarers, the lucky ones anyway, had arranged-unions since birth. His own lasted a lifetime, and throughout those long decades, old memories must have helped.
The adult spacefarers stayed together near the silver flyer, forming a small circle. Some pointed towards one horizon, the rest to the other; most held strange gleaming instruments in their hands. Subsequently, the group started to slowly move in the direction the children had run off in. After a few paces one broke away. Against the burnished orange glare of the nearest star, an old burnt-out dwarf shining bitter, the act appeared heretical; as if a father suddenly decided to abandon his wife and infants to the whims of a hostile world. Some in the group shook their heads at the act but most simply rolled their eyes; no one did anything.
The lone figure was a man, lanky like the rest, though unusually muscular for a spacefarer. He walked away from the group, away from the children, away from the silver flyer and into the bone-dry land where only arid canals crisscrossed like wrinkles, and a maze of rocks and boulders made strange esoteric patterns devoid of meaning.
A young woman in the group kept her eyes on him, even after the others had given up hope. She appeared to be of two minds about what to do. Almost unconsciously, she struggled behind the congregation till she herself was apart from them. Only then did she make her decision.
“Gustav,” she said, her voice low, even though she’d wanted to scream it.
Without hearing her the man disappeared among the rocks.
She turned to the group, they were going their own way.
Reluctantly she followed the single set of footprints into the labyrinth.
#
Gustav had chosen the landing site. As usual, for the last two days, he’d conducted the planetary survey. Yes, there were better tungsten and iron deposits on the southern hemisphere. Yes, a literal goldmine plus rich caches of mercury, bismuth and uranium awaited along the equator. But…
Here transuranic elements abounded as well as silicon and magnesium; though that was not the reason for choosing this place.
Gustav had noticed something strange here, picked up a faint trace of a common alloy the rest thought impossible to find this far out in the galaxy. It’s probably nothing, he thought but didn’t believe the statement, knowing full well he was only repeating what others told him. Gustav shook his head at the recent memory and was surprised it bit so hard; they didn’t even laugh at me this time, just kindly dismissed my hypothesis. He knew why they’d behaved so: they’re scared, he thought. Not to find out somebody else might have been here, but to know it for certain and accept, or at least have to acknowledge, it was most likely… Dammit,Gustav sighed. They know who’s landed on this planet as well as I do. I understand their reluctance to admit it though, he reasoned with himself. Accepting the truth makes our situation even more desperate.
Gustav knelt and ran his hand along the rocky ground, all of it vitrified from when the star exploded before its collapse. He picked up a small pebble and squeezed it between thumb and forefinger, the pebble immediately eroded, turning into dust – finalizing a process that had been going on for millions of years. Gustav stood, still peering down, and imagined how the entire planet must have looked when the pebble was formed. The rotation would have slowed considerably since then, he thought. I bet nights are very long and cold and dark and… And lonely.
Thankfully night time was a long way off – at least sixty hours. Gustav looked up into the brassy sky, towards where he suspected the starship waited. He connected his recent thoughts to life inside the vessel.
“Gustav.”
He spun around and there by a crag stood Ruth. She stared at him with a queer expression he couldn’t decipher, and tried little to crack. Ruth wore revealing clothing. Skin on her neck and arms, even her legs, was visible. She’d obviously put some effort and consideration into her appearance.
Why bother? he thought.
Ruth continued to stare at him.
Gustav turned from the gaze. “The others went yonder,” he pointed without looking. “Silicon deposits are there and, if we’re lucky, minerals like rutile, ilmenite and zircon. Perhaps they’ll need your help to figure out the best place to cut an open pit and position excavators and hydraulics,” he knew that was unlikely. Innocently he added. “The children went there as well, if you’re bored you can play with them.”
“I’m not a child,” snapped Ruth. Some venom was in her voice, though Gustav failed to hear it. She calmed herself then continued. “I know why they went there and what they’re doing… I know.”
Gustav paused. Those last two words told him a lot; most importantly that she wanted to be with him and had left the others to do so. He turned back around and looked at her. Ruth hadn’t moved, she continued to stare. It was an uncomfortable moment for them both.
“And yet she keeps prolonging it,” Gustav mumbled.
“What was that?” Ruth asked and took a step forward.
“Huh?”
“You just said something, I couldn’t hear it properly,” she took another step closer.
Nothing, thought Gustav though he’d meant to say it aloud. I didn’t say anything. He then glanced at his transducer and continued to walk into the labyrinth of stones as if Ruth had departed and he was alone, as if the brief conversation never happened.
Ruth watched him disappear behind a steep scarp. His large footprints were all that remained. Slowly she followed them, discovering when turning the corner that he was far out of sight.
What’s his problem? Ruth thought. “Gus…” she went to shout his name but didn’t. Gustav, it’s an interesting name. I like it.
If the name had once meant anything or signified someone important, perhaps a great warrior or scientist noted for their deeds or discoveries, the spacefarers had long forgotten. The name, like any name, was only valuable now because it bore a connection to the past and hence worked as a sort of talisman against the future; any link relating to the past was laced with an almost supernatural smear. Ruth had often wondered about the etymology of her own name. Particularly when she was a child at night looking out her bedroom window as the starship ploughed through dark voids past infinite star clusters. She’d imagined, and still hoped, it was a name from the origin-planet; that fabled world the spacefarers only spoke of when intoxicated and then only to argue about what its true name was. Everyone had their own theory; though like so much else, no one knew for sure – they’d forgotten.
Turning another corner Ruth heard Gustav mumbling to himself. She couldn’t see him amid the landscape of ledges and escarpments, each one rising like a gnarled and blasphemous finger out of this alien world.
Perhaps he’s stopped for me, maybe he’s waiting…
But no, she could tell by the sounds he was still moving away. She continued to follow his footprints, even a little less apprehensively than before, and tried to hear precisely what he was saying but couldn’t. Why does he talk to himself so much? Jerome never has, nobody does. Oonah is lucky…
Like many others, Ruth knew why he talked to himself, why nobody saw him for months at a time, and in a few rarer instances, for years.
He’s so different than Jerome. I wish Jerome would have liked me, then Oonah would be here in my stead and I’d be with Jerome. She kicked a random rock in frustration and it scattered away. Unfortunately, Ruth was here and after much contemplation and soul-searching she’d finally come to accept it, fighting her conclusion every step of the way.
There’s just too few people to get the one you truly want…
Since Jerome had coupled with Oonah only Gustav was left, although he seemed oblivious to the fact. There were no other males, not single anyway. Laws about bearing children were strict, the strictest they had; when there were so few people, inbreeding was always a danger. Despite all precautions the spacefarers had been stricken by dysgenic ailments – retrograde effects of isolation, homozygosity and overadaptation. For a long time, many centuries, exogamy was compulsory, practiced in a vain attempt to promote hybrid-vigor.
Not now though, for the genepool was low and there were no ethnic races left – fortunately, as the spacefarers saw things, interspeciation had not occurred.
It had with others, those who’d once been spacefarers but grew tired of the long journey so fled the starship and colonized hospitable planets.
Some of those planets were devoid of intelligent-life and were there for the taking. Others were inhabited by tentacular amphibians and quadruped saurian-like serpents. One had dimorphic telepathic fungi with a hive-mind, another large slug-like creature with crustaceous shells and several sets of articulated limbs. Yet another was occupied by a sentient gas which covered the entire planet; countless more continued to remain undefinable let alone describable.
Surprisingly some planets out there, in the infinite cosmic vastness’s, were inhabited by humanoid lifeforms who colonizers mated with. This coupling predominantly bred nothing, the biology being too far apart. However, on some worlds, differences must not have been so great for offspring were produced. Most born were infertile, but not all; just enough for a divergence to occur and a whole new incongruent species to emerge.
But the spacefarers were different. They were the descendants of fundamentalists, of the extremists, of those who’d never given up the search, never stopped looking, were on the long pilgrimage, the greatest odyssey, the, if necessary, forever journey – the goal being to find the way home and again live on the origin-planet. But they were a dying breed, it seemed all others had given up. A few times, generations before and after lightyears of separation, the spacefarers stumbled upon those colonized worlds where expats had made their abode. No humans were found, only graveyards.
Their legacy: a slight genetic quirk in indigenous aliens unaware of their own hybridity.
All trace of humanity had vanished. It was like they’d never existed.
That’s why the spacefarers practiced exogamy for so long, till endogamy replaced it, for that was all that was remaining. Ruth and Gustav were living in the days their ancestors feared and sought and fought to avoid – the day when there’d only be a few left, drifting pointlessly through alien galaxies, searching for something that may not even exist and asking themselves whether it ever did.
Ruth started to step in Gustav’s footprints. He had a wider stride than her, and she had to concentrate to do it properly; at any rate, it made this walk more enjoyable, less daunting. Turning another pillar, she came into a clearing. A few rocky ledges were strewn throughout, but she could see a fair distance ahead – she could see Gustav. He stood against the inhospitable landscape like a stain upon it, standing sideways, somewhat slouching, his transducer held chest high and with an intense stare directed towards the barren ground. Nevertheless, he remained as impenetrable as ever.
She followed his eyes to the patch of ground and momentarily saw an object amid the rubble of bedrock sparkle and reflect ochreous light off the dwarf star; in a way only a fusible metallurgic surface can.
What is that? Ruth stared to Gustav’s face for a clue. No, still as impenetrable as always.
From this distance, he didn’t look so bad, not so old and haggard. Up close the grey in his hair was apparent, lines on his neck and forehead also. Ruth sighed. He’s nearly forty, she held up her own hands to scrutinize. They were young and fresh, manicured and smooth. Jerome has nice hands, she thought but had to admit, Gustav’s are much stronger.
And Gustav was smart. Even those who really couldn’t stand him had to concede that. Many times, in certain situations appearing dire, Gustav managed to pull the starship through an unpredicted dilemma unscathed, and been something of a hero. Though he’d never basked in the glory like a normal man would. But there had been those moments, nobody can deny it. Yet afterwards he’d always remained Gustav; awkward, antisocial, intense, inward-looking Gustav.
Maybe he can’t, Ruth thought. Maybe I’m wasting my time but… What about me? I don’t want to be alone.
Yet she knew that’s all Gustav had been – alone. Abiding by himself, within himself; accompanied only by humming machines down in the reactor core and wandering aimlessly, like a ghost haunting the ship, along enormous empty cargo bays. Those were places few had been and most didn’t care to. When Gustav’s mother died in childbirth, so Ruth had been told, his father immediately coupled with a spouseless woman and began a new family; in effect abandoning Gustav. An allowance was made for the desertion in this particular case because of the unfortunate circumstances. If Gustav had been a little older and he’s mother’s litter two or more, in spacefarer lore two children constituted a minimum family unit, then his father would have been bound to them.
Unfortunately, at that time there was another woman available and, as usual, the spacefarers were so few.
Thus, Gustav grew up alone in the bowels of the starship. People watched out for him, but no one loved him and eventually like was treated in kind. He’d withdrawn early and then never changed. But he seemed happy down there on his own with emphatic and apathetic machines. He communicated well with them. Not so with humans, that kind of contact was hard for him.
Ruth had followed the footprints nearly to the end, Gustav noticed her.
She smiled. “I’ve been thinking. When the original starship, the seed-ship from the origin-planet, first got lost and was carrying all those people… Well, why didn’t they just backtrack? You know, follow their own footprints,” she stepped out of his, “home? Surely then was the best time. They must have had some inkling of where they were? If they’d tried, perhaps we wouldn’t be lost today. Seems like that was the best chance of returning home, and they squandered it.” Ruth put both hands behind her back and waited for a response.
Gustav stared at her bluntly, as if not sure what she said, as if he didn’t understand the language. Abruptly, awkwardly, he broke out of whatever thought was ruminating in his mind, and looked away from her. “You’re wrong. They had no notion of where they were and astronomical distances were too wide to turn around and return home,” he said it without reserve or pathos, as if conversing with a machine. He opened his mouth to say more but didn’t.
“Why was that?” asked Ruth.
Then, unexpectedly, for the first time she felt sorry for him.
He just stared at nothing, mouth agape. His eyes twitched with thoughts behind them, perhaps even deep and profound thoughts, but his lips were silent. Yet, she could tell he wanted to speak.
Instinctively Ruth spoke. “It’s okay,” she said. “Take your time.”
Harshly he turned from her, his mouth shut tight in a snarl.
“Gustav,” she said and reached out with one hand to touch his shoulder. Only briefly did she succeed.
The Protec-Sphere around him, the skintight invisible shield all wore when on scouting missions to provide life-support, crackled blue. It shocked her that he had it turned up so high for protection.
Against what? There’s nothing here to fear. Ruth’s Protec-Sphere was hardly on the first level. Gustav’s must be on full power. Then a terrible idea popped into her head. What if he wears it all the time? What if he’s never felt the touch of another human?
The idea seemed plausible. She’d rarely seen the man talk, let alone hug or shake hands.
“Gustav,” she repeated more forcefully. “Have I embarrassed you? I didn’t mean to.” Disregarding the blue crackling force-field she touched his shoulder again.
Promptly he shrugged the hand off, turned his back on her and stepped away – he looked as far into the distance as the land of rocks allowed. Very quickly and precisely, as if coding a computer, he spoke. “Quantum micro-jumping across variable magnetic fields. The original starship, the seed-ship, interacted with them in ways not understood by engineers. Ergo, the craft was thrown and buffeted along by tangible currents. Exponential acceleration ensued, navigation became impossible…”
Ruth nodded her head as he spoke, even though he couldn’t see her. She’d lied to him before, she hadn’t been thinking about how the original starship from the origin-planet and its thousands of passengers were thrown through space over unfathomable distances at phenomenal speeds. So far and fast in fact, that all contact with humankind was lost; possibly forever. Ruth had not thought about such things since childhood.
“…Unknown how many galaxies we crossed,” Gustav continued, still talking rapidly and quickly. “If indeed they were galaxies we were moving through, for velocity is relative to the galaxy. Two points keep going through my mind: Firstly: time-dilation effects and Secondly: temporal-stasis. The few minutes experienced inside the vessel may have been five hours outside or it could have been a hundred years, perhaps a thousand, why not a million or even billions. On the other hand, if our ancestors were stuck in a temporal-stasis, then no time would have passed at all. For instance: the seed-ship while in galaxy 1, may have been accelerating at a speed reciprocal to galaxy 2, or 3, or 9, or 12. Therefore the warp and hyperdrive…”
Ruth didn’t listen to a single word he said. Once or twice she smiled. Does he really think that’s what happened? No one knows exactly what transpired that day. Some have even theorized we may not even be in the same universe anymore, let alone on the other side of our own native one. If someone did know they would have been able to fix the problem, to go home. I wonder if he came up with all this stuff himself? I’ll ask him…
Sharply, imprudently, Gustav stopped talking, having finished his technical explanation. From his posture Ruth deduced he wanted to walk away yet something held him back.
That’s a good sign, she thought. Maybe he does want to talk. “Hey, all that stuff you just said, did you teach yourself…”
“I need to be here,” disrupted Gustav, though not in a rude way. His voice was softer than before; though he still had his back to her. “I need to do sensor scanning, collect samples and record data,” he held up his transducer to emphasize the point. “I always do these things alone.”
Suddenly the image of the orange star sparkling against an object on the ground returned to Ruth’s mind. “Did you find something Gustav? I saw a shiny implement over here…”
Like a caged animal who’d been tormented then released he spun around and stared at her. The intensity of his eyes scared her. For the first time, she took a step back.
As much as he lacked in social graces Gustav was at least perceptive. “Sorry,” he apologized and stepped further away. “I didn’t find anything. I… I…” he ceased to make eye contact and peered into the distance, again at nothing. “I didn’t find anything,” he repeated. “I… I’m just collecting data.”
“I can wait till you’re finished,” said Ruth and took a step forward, retaking ground recently forfeited. “I need to… I mean I want to talk to you. I know you desire to be left alone but I have a proposition to make. It’s important. Will you listen to me?” she paused hoping he’d turn to face her, but he didn’t. “I would rather talk away from the others,” she forced a good-natured chuckle. “That’s what’s so wonderful about being out here on this dead planet, isn’t it? There are an awful lot of places to run off to for privacy. Anyway, Gustav, perhaps if…”
“I know what you want,” interrupted Gustav.
“Oh,” said Ruth and feared he’d put an end to the conversation. Who am I kidding, she thought. It’s Gustav. Of course, he’ll refuse me. Her head dropped and she appeared crestfallen, almost heartbroken – whether she liked it or not he was her only option, there would not be another.
Gustav sighed and continued looking off into the horizon. “I will talk to you,” he said. “Because I understand.”
“Really,” Ruth rasped with surprise but also disbelief. “Do you?”
He nodded and looked at the ground. A few times his head went to lift, he was trying to raise it to meet hers. “Go wait over there,” he pointed in an oblique way to the end of the clearing. “Let me finish up here, I’ll be quick. Then,” amazingly he looked at her. His eyes were steely and hard, although very lonely; like two stars weakly twinkling in the vacuum of space, their light unable to reach others. “We’ll talk, I know what you want. But please, go. Go away, leave me alone.”
Ruth returned the stare and smiled. “Okay,” she said unsurely, but somewhat gratified, instinctively feeling like this was progress. “And Gustav, thank you.”
She turned and began to walk away. Intermittently, she’d glance back at him; her eyes seemed hungry, they never looked at his face. Gustav shyly watched her till she disappeared amongst the rocks. When out of sight he still felt Ruth spied on him though saw no proof she was – he waited longer than necessary to continue, he waited till the feeling of paranoia vanished.
Gustav then stepped over to exactly where he stood before and knelt. He brushed the rocky ground, and a rusted tool surfaced. The alloy was constructed of a solid solution of metal elements in a single phase, the metallic bonding number unique to the unseen starship hovering far overhead.
It’s one of ours, thought Gustav and knew for certain it was. Probably someone dropped it or purposively threw the tool away; having deemed the object worthless. They never thought they’d be here again, and yet here we are. He held the transducer over it and grimaced as if he had been made to swallow something awful. Part of a stone-type glaze breaker. Seventeen-hundred years old, and we still use the exact same model. We haven’t progressed at all. Gustav looked in the direction Ruth lay waiting, he didn’t feel like she was secretly spying on him. Quickly he brushed over the instrument till it was hidden.
“No,” he suddenly sneered, and wiped gravelly turf off the object then picked it up quickly pocketing it. He kicked dust over the ground then began to walk towards Ruth.
It would just be found again, by us most likely. He feared it may be so. For in the future, whether distant or near, if the spacefarer’s predicament did not improve, they would pass this way again, and need supplies, no doubt see this unnamed planet was the best in the local solar-system for resources and land. And then… And then… Then they’d find the instrument, realize they’d been here before and comprehend what Gustav knew and had long ago come to accept – their search was hopeless.
Perhaps one of my descendants will be on that voyage, that interminable excursion through time and space… It was an odd thought, something Ruth was now making a possibility. He smiled at the prospect. I don’t want the others to be sad, I don’t want to make people sad, I don’t want… I don’t want them to be like me.
Suddenly Ruth stepped out from behind a gnarled and grizzled rock ledge. He could see her, though she was a ways away, nonetheless, now closer than ever before.
I can’t beat time, he thought. We are a rootless people with no home. No one can outsmart entropy, but that doesn’t mean I have to give into it either. He looked at Ruth, held her in his gaze. We can’t win, but we can fight, we can try to survive.
Upon reaching Ruth he’d decided to speak less in his mind and more to her.
They disappeared into the maze of rocks. It was a long time before either emerged.