Ill Fated: A Science Fiction Romance

Chapter 1

Catek

         Error: No data detected.

         “Come on,” I murmur under my breath. There has to be some signal out here. Or are the trees really that dense?

         Pivoting around, I hold up my bi-wave, hoping it picks up a signal. Back in Yenimham, this was never a problem. Of course, back in Yenimham, I don’t have to dig my own latrine.

         That’s why you don’t like being there. Here is where you can really live. You can really explore. As always, my inner voice scolds me. I hate it when it’s right.

         Yenimham, the biggest city on the world of Entares, is worlds away from where I stand right now.

         And where is that? Be precise.

         I am…standing on a dry spot of land in the deep swamps and marshes of…somewhere on the continent of Frostin on the planet Jwoon. This continent is vastly underpopulated and rich with resources. Frostin is teeming with people of all species, its cities full and vibrant.

         The contrast to where I am now is stark. Here, all I hear is the swishing of leaves, the slurp of water and the occasional ferika bird.

         And definitely no signal to be found.

         Jwoon  is the third planet in the Jwoon system, on the edge of Alliance space. It’s not known for its technological marvels. Compared to the rest of the ever expanding galaxy and the federation of races that live under the United Star Alliance, it’s centuries behind. Precisely why I like it. It’s a chance to get away from city life.

Jwoon has always attracted the people for whom the galaxy got to be too much. 

During the Centuries War that ravaged the galaxy close to three hundred years ago, the planet was a haven for refugees and anyone looking for peace. It had only one major battle and that was a skirmish between Baragon mercenaries and a disgraced Trident Alliance general. 

But within academic circles, there has always been a fascination as to why Jwoon has held such appeal for peace loving peoples. The planet has been the focus of scrutiny in the past, but never anything that panned out. 

People have been known to go to Jwoon and forget about the rest of the universe. They’ve shrugged off their cares and burdens and just decided to live. 

That’s what happened to several groups of humans who followed the peace loving ways of Solaris. In time, they grew and multiplied and branched off from the main tribe - delving further and further into the wilderness. 

And with it came stories of unimaginable flora and fauna. Organisms that if studied would fundamentally alter the understanding of sentient life in the universe. 

That’s what Jwoon is to me. A chance to explore, catalogue, photograph and, hopefully, discover something new.

         Shifting my heavy pack, I turn in a small circle once more, hoping a weak signal will bring my bi-wave to life.

         Nothing.

         “Mountmend has to to somewhere near here. All the coordinates say so.”

Talking to myself is not strange to me, although my voice does sound odd bouncing off with a dull thud against the moss rocks and thick bark of the werupa trees. My goal is to find the ancient human village of Mountmend. Not many have actually seen it but I hear it is the gateway to what I’m really looking for: the islaqess flower. Mountmend is the tiny village that time forgot. It was supposedly founded by a small branch of humans who left the main tribe of Solaris worshipping humans after the devastating battle with the Baragon. They left to preserve a secret supposedly. One that they felt was too powerful to be left to outsiders. 

They receded from consciousness and as the Trident Alliance and Ataxian Coalition declared peace and eventually merged with most of the other powers into the United Star Alliance, the village of Mountmend vanished from all memory.

Until I began to do some research. I was searching for the islaqess flower.

Known for its medicinal and even fantastical qualities (all of which are only vaguely explained in all the sources I’ve been able to dig up), the islaqess is a delicate little thing with acentral bud that exudes a nectar – the very source of all its magical properties.  

            Or so everyone says.

            Truth is, no one has ever seen one. Much less catalogued and photographed it. At least in my lifetime. We Myrdion’s live longer than most humans (by about fifty years or so) but even then, the islaqess was already rumored to have been over-farmed into near extinction.

            Except here – somewhere near an ancient village that I have yet to find.

            Frustration is not something I like to grapple with, but I have no choice. My bi-wave is not working and my other instruments have long since given up on providing me with any useful data.

            I’m going to have to use old fashioned science to find the village and, hopefully, find the flower.

            If it still exists.

            Deep down, I know it does. It’s just protecting itself and hiding somewhere. For now, though, I should concentrate on more pressing matters. Like whether I should keep going or make camp for the night.

            Time is very different here. In Yenimham, I rush from appointment to appointment, meeting to meeting, always hopping on and off tele-trains and ubva-taxis. Everything is rigidly scheduled and managed.

The swamps and marshes of Jwoon  are ancient and have no use for modern conveniences. The trees grow over centuries, the leaves dying, falling to the swampy water below and nourishing the roots so more tree can grow. It’s slow and elegant and must be respected.

            After landing on the narrow airstrip that serves as the only major airport in the region for miles, I backpacked my way into the deep swamp. At first, my back and shoulders protested this new way of traveling, i.e. with everything I need on my back.

            But my soul and my lungs welcomed it. Finally, a chance to breathe real air (not the filtered and heavily scented regeneron air of the big city), and the ability to stretch my limbs without fear of hitting another person.

            In fact, since I landed, I haven’t seen another soul. That doesn’t mean I’ve been alone, though. The flora and fauna of the swamps is innumerable and one that I’ve been eager to explore for a while.

            So, when this assignment came across my desk (or rather, I bugged my boss about it until she finally let me do it), I jumped at the chance.

            My pack is currently full with small specimens of the various plants, mosses, fungi and other interesting items I’ve discovered so far. It makes things heavier for me, but it’s completely worth it.

            Also in my treasure trove – reams of holo-images. I’m glad I brought my extra holo-drives. I have a feeling I will be taking a lot of pictures in this place.

            My stomach grumbles, reminding me that I’m more than just a brain on two legs (or two wings if I ever feel like using them, which I usually don’t). Myrdion’s have very large, diaphanous wings but they don’t do well in humid spaces. They certainly don’t do well with heavy weights.

            The pack I wear (custom made to accommodate my wings) is very much a heavy weight.

            I make a compromise with myself. Walk another cubik or two and then make camp. I need to eat and I need to rest but I’m so absorbed in this work. Plus, I need to start drafting my field report.

            My boss expects something soon. Well, as soon as I can get a signal to even send it out.

            Since my instruments are not working as they should, I have to make an educated guess about which direction to pursue.

            “That way,” I say to myself.

            What a loner we are.

            For the most part, I don’t mind being alone. It’s hardest when the day gives over to the night, but even then, I’m grateful for my own company.

            Setting off, I force myself to be confident in the direction I’ve chosen because really, at the end of the day, what choice do I have?