To The Stars

The building was gigantic, echoing with the distant hammer of a loud exhaust. Rows of trailers, each with a large shipping container secured to it, stretched into the distance. He walked toward the nearest one, slowly as though he belonged there. The sound of the exhaust died away to be replaced by the clang of metal upon metal. He looked around casually when he reached the third trailer; there was no one in sight. He pulled open the heavy door and climbed in. As he pulled the door shut behind him he had a quick glimpse of stacked boxes filling most of the body of the trailer, leaving an area just big enough for him. A few minutes later the door was slammed all the way shut from the outside and locked into place.

It was dark, warm and slightly musty. He sat down with his back against the wall, but found that this was hard and uncomfortable. Lying down was better and he pillowed his head on his arm. He was asleep without knowing it, nor did he stir when a tractor backed into place and sealed itself to the trailer. The big rig lurched into easy motion and out onto the road; Jan slept on. Waking only when they shuddered to a stop, air brakes hissing. Jan was pulled awake, blinking into the darkness, feeling a cold stab of fear until he remembered what had happened, where he was. He caught his breath as someone outside rattled the bars that sealed the door. When they opened it he would be caught and that would be the end of everything. He crouched there in the darkness, waiting — and relaxed only when the rig lurched into motion again. If that had been the checkpoint, then they were safely through. Tension drained away as they kept rolling, not stopping again. The motion lulled him to sleep and he welcomed it gladly, did not fight against it.

Jan stirred on the hard surface but did not waken completely until the next time the truck stopped. There was a short wait, then they started up again. A police check before entering a city? This was what would have been done in Britain; there was a good chance the same security procedures might be used here. The next time they stopped Jan could hear rattling again at the door seals next to him and he was ready when the door swung open. He shielded his eyes with his hand under the onslaught of tropical light.

“Come on out, Buster, this is the end of the line for you,” a hoarse voice said. Jan slid to the ground and squinted through the glare at the uniformed policeman who stood in front of him. Captured! He turned, started to run, and the man’s large hand seized him by the arm and swung him about.

“No games! Just get into the back of the black and white and lie on the floor. They made me break my cover for you, Buster, and it had better be worth it.” He pulled Jan forward as he talked, then shoved him in the direction of a black and white car that was heavily festooned with lights and sirens, parked behind the tractor trailer in the narrow alleyway. The rear door was open and Jan got in and dropped to the floor as the door was slammed behind him. A moment later the policeman climbed into the front and they reversed out of the alley at high speed, braked to a squealing stop, then shot off down the road. Once they were moving the driver relaxed and looked over his shoulder at Jan.

“Is it true, what you told them, that all of the planets are, like, what do you call it…”

“Free. Yes, they are. It was a rebellion that could not be stopped.”

“Well that’s good to hear. Maybe it’s catching and we’ll get a bit of it here on old mother Earth. They could sure use some of it where you’re going. I’m turning you over to the spooks. I don’t know how comfortable you’re going to be there, but you’ll be safe enough for awhile.”

Spooks? Jan thought. Ghosts? What was the man talking about? “I’m afraid that I’m not acquainted with the term.”

“You sound like a Limey. Are you? A Brit?”

“Yes, I was born in England. I left there some time ago.

“You sounded like one, you know, the way they talk in the flicks. Well I don’t know how things work over where you come from, Mr. Limey, but over here, well, things I guess are different. We’re going to New Watts. When you see it you’ll know what I’m talking about. Take a look. I’ll stop and you just lift your nose up and see for yourself.”

They drove on, slowly, then eased to a stop. “All right, now,” the policeman said.

Jan rose up carefully to see that they had parked beside a row of small homes. They had been attractive once, but now they were collapsed and tumbledown, windows knocked out and roofs sagging. On the other side of the street was a high wire fence with a wasteland behind it, mounds of burned earth with only the occasional bit of grass or weed growing there. A good hundred meters beyond was another, identical fence. On the other side of this were buildings, homes and office blocks. Jan couldn’t see any details clearly but they definitely had a ramshackle look.