To The Stars

“This is just the beginning.” Lee took the box from the floor and put it on the table. It was made of a pale alloy, machine turned and held together by rows of tiny rivets, the construction a labor of love in itself. He worked the combination and opened the lid, tilting it toward Jan. It was filled with row after row of tape cassettes.

“These are from the men who land with the supply ships,” he said. “I have been trading my recorders for these. They are very popular and I get more of them each time. There is one man who gets me all I can use. I think this is illegal.”

Jan sat back heavily and nodded. “That is indeed against the law, against how many laws you don’t know. You shouldn’t mention this to anyone else, and if I am ever asked I have never heard of you. The simplest thing that would happen to you if you were discovered would be instant death.”

“That bad?” Lee was paler now, sitting bolt upright.

“That bad. Why are you telling me this?”

“I had an idea. It doesn’t matter now.” He stood and picked up the box. “I had better be going.”

“Wait.” As soon as he thought about it Jan knew why the radio technician had come. “You are afraid of losing the tapes, aren’t you? If you leave them behind the heat will destroy them. And the Elders are checking all personal luggage, as they have never done before, and they’ll want to know what you have in the box. So how do you expect me to help?”

Lee did not answer, because this was obvious as well.

“You were going to ask me to conceal them in my equipment for you? Risk death for blackdirt tapes?”

“I didn’t know.”

“I guess not. Here, sit down, you’re getting me nervous standing there. Pour the tea into the sink and I’ll give you something better to drink. Just as illegal as the tapes, though with not the same penalties attached.”

Jan unlocked a cabinet and took out a plastic bottle filled with a lethal-looking transparent liquid. He filled two tumblers and passed one to Lee.

“Drink up, you’ll like it.” He raised his own glass and drained half of it. Lee sniffed suspiciously at the glass, then shrugged and drank a good mouthful. His eyes widened and he managed to swallow it without choking.

“That’s… that’s something I never tasted before. Are you sure that it is drinkable?”

“Very much so. You know those apples I raise behind the shop? The little ones about the size of your thumb? Very sweet they are and the juice ferments easily with the right yeast strain. I get an apple wine that must be about twelve percent alcohol. Then I put it into the deep freeze and throw away the ice.”

“Very ingenious.”

“I admit it’s not an original idea of mine.”

“But it’s such a simple way of concentrating the alcohol. In fact, after drinking a bit it tastes better and better.”

“That’s not original either. Here, let me top you up. Then you can show me some of those tapes.”

Lee frowned. “But the death penalty?”

“Let us say my first fright has vanished. It was just reflex. With the ships late, and they may never arrive at all, why should I worry about the retribution of Earth, light-years away. He flipped through the tapes, squinting at some of the titles. All pretty innocuous stuff, red hot by this planet’s standards, but nothing political at all.”

“What do you mean, political?”

Jan poured their glasses full again and stared into his. “You’re a rube,” he said. “A hick. And you don’t even know what those words mean. Have you ever heard me talk about Earth?”

“No. But I never thought about it. And we know about Earth from the taped shows and…”

“You know nothing at all here on Halvmork. This is a dead-end planet, a concentration-camp world at the end of nowhere, been nowhere, going nowhere. Settled by forced migration, probably, or with politico prisoners. Doesn’t matter, it’s in the records someplace. Just an agricultural machine filled with dumb farmers designed to churn out food for the other planets for maximum profit at minimum input. Earth. Now that is something else again. With the elite on top, the proles on bottom, and everyone in between fitted into place like plugs into a board. No one really likes it, except those at the top, but they have all of the power so things just go on and on forever. It is a trap. A morass. With no way out. I am out of it because I had no choice. This planet or death. And that is all I am going to tell you. So leave the tapes. I’ll take care of them for you. And why the hell should we worry ourselves about something as trivial as tapes?” He banged his glass down with sudden anger.

“Something is happening out there — and I don’t know what it is. The ships always arrive on time. Yet they haven’t. They may never come. But if they do, we have the corn and they will need it.

Fatigue and alcohol dragged him down. He finished the last swallow in his glass and waved Lee toward the door. Lee turned back before opening it.

“You didn’t say anything to me tonight,” Lee said.

“And I never saw any damn tapes. Good night?”