Voyage to Alpha Centauri: A Novel (40 page)

Emerging from the woods, we entered a grassy meadow at the edge of the lake. The grass was a shade of blue, and so short it looked as if it had been cropped by sheep. The basin of water was a near-perfect circle of shallow limestone, fed by rivulets that tumbled down over a series of rills in the glen, combining into a creek that cascaded over a low waterfall into the lake. It was an enchanting place, and I was very glad to be there, my first real encounter with Nova in its natural state.

Not long after, we heard a humming in the sky and saw an AEC descending vertically, close to where ours was parked. A few minutes later, Paul Yusupov came striding through the trees with a beaming face. Behind him came another young man in flight crew uniform. Greetings and back-thumpings were still being exchanged when a hum in the sky drew all eyes, and a third AEC descended beyond the treetops.

“She’s here”, Paul breathed, patting his breast pocket, inspecting the ring he found inside it, combing his hair with his fingers, looking suddenly nervous.

Perhaps because I had anticipated a simple contractual ceremony, possibly with the Captain present, I was surprised when Pia and three other people stepped out of the trees and processed toward us. Pia was dressed in a white sari and golden slippers, her black hair braided in loops about her head, with a long white veil pinned to the back, trailing behind her. Beside her walked Maria Kempton, and behind them came the pilot of their AEC, and finally, of all people, my friend Dariush.

For the moment, there was a great deal of joy in that hidden valley, though it was mainly wordless. The betrothed had eyes only for each other.

Dariush began to busy himself with things he had brought along, a kitbag and a folding table. First he set up the table near the edge of the lake. That done, he covered it with a white cloth, and put candlesticks, a golden cup, a big book, and other items on top. While he was rummaging in the kitbag, Pia approached me with a warm smile and wet eyes.

“Neil, I’m so happy, so happy”, she began. “Thank you for coming. I . . . I want to ask a favor of you. Would you give me away?”

The term was unfamiliar to me, since I had not attended a wedding since the days of my childhood.

“I’d be honored to,” I said, “but you’ll have to tell me what to do.”

“It’s easy. You and I go back into the woods, and then when the ceremony is about to begin, you bring me to the altar on your arm and give me to Paul.” Altar? I wondered.

“Ready, Neil?”

“Ready.”

So we walked back into the trees, turned around, and then she took my arm with her hand. I noticed that her eyes were shining, her hand trembling a little.

Now as we approached the group, I saw that Dariush had pulled a white robe over himself and was standing behind the table with his arms open wide to greet us.

Paul stepped forward and took Pia’s arm. He shook my hand, said, “
Spasiba
, Neil”, and then the betrothed turned to face the altar.

Yes, an altar. I had seen only two in my life, and one had been in ruins. The only functioning altar I had ever seen was the tailgate of Fray Ramon’s truck, way back when I was a boy.

A whole lot of impressions flooded in now. My throat was choked up, and I felt my heart beating fast with an emotion that I really couldn’t have defined, if I had been able to, if I had wanted to. I stepped back a few paces beside Maria, who was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief and radiating some mysterious feminine happiness.

On Paul’s side, the three pilots stepped up beside him. Suddenly, they raised their heads and began to sing. It was a full-throated, deep-voiced chant in a language that I guessed was Russian. Paul smiled throughout with surprised delight. When the song was over, he laughed and said something quietly to his best man. (I later learned that the best man was a Russian. The other pilot was a Pole. Historically, Poles have little love for Russians, but he and Loka were good friends of Paul’s and had taken the trouble to learn the song in the groom’s native tongue.)

“Fr. Ibrahim, we are ready”, said Pia. Now Dariush further astonished me by making the sign of the cross. Everyone else but me did the same, though the two Russians did it a little differently. I strained in my memory for the way it should be done, knowing that when I was a child I had made that gesture too. But I was distracted by the sudden confounding of my assumptions about my friends. Dear to me they were—very dear—yet I now felt shaken with the realization that while I loved them I did not really know them as well as I had thought I did—Dariush most of all.

It was a Christian rite. Moreover, it was a Catholic Christian rite, a wedding Mass. Moved, perplexed, and a little stunned, I knelt and stood, and knelt again, following the others’ lead, feeling ancient memories returning. The wedding ritual took place in the middle of it. During that part, the best man stood behind Pia and Paul, and held little gold crowns over their heads. They exchanged rings. Dariush blessed the couple. They held hands thereafter. I did not hear their words, for I was completely involved in the seeing and the feeling of the thing. The soft burble of the waterfall filled my ears.

Then followed the rest of the Mass, and as it progressed, I felt something else stirring inside me. It was a combination of longing, pain, regret. Regret over what I had lost, I supposed, though I could not remember exactly what I had lost or how I had lost it. Then I recalled my numerous childhood communions, the happiness I had sometimes felt after receiving that little white host on my tongue, the sensation of gentle, sweet fire slipping into my heart. How many years had it been since I had experienced that—since I had even given it a thought? Nearly sixty years.

Now my mind wandered farther away from this beautiful valley high in the mountains of an alien planet, wandered back across the infinite sea of space to a little place in a desert. I saw myself as a child, singing and dancing while reaching upward. What was that about? What had I been doing? Toward what unknown mystery had I been yearning, blind and happy in my innocence?

I was pulled back to Nova when the others knelt down to receive communion. Only Maria held back, though she too knelt and gazed thoughtfully at the host. I stood apart from them all, for I no longer belonged to that faith. I had always stood alone in human society. And I would remain so.

Finally, the groom and his attendants sang another chant as Dariush solemnly made a sign of the cross over us.

The bride and groom kissed, and we broke into applause, then rushed forward to congratulate them.

As the wedding party made its way back toward the woods, I stayed behind with Dariush and raised my eyebrows at him. He smiled sheepishly. After helping him pack up his gear, I accompanied him through the trees in the direction of the AECs.

“Fr. Ibrahim, is it?” I murmured.

“Fr. Ibrahimi, to be exact, Neil.”

“And you felt no need to enlighten me all these years?”

“I did feel the need. Perhaps you recall that I was most interested in your Spanish culture. There were a number of times when I was about to tell you, but—”

“But couldn’t bring yourself to drop the other shoe.”

“I regret I do not understand what you mean by a shoe.”

“A figure of speech. Well, I’m glad to know now.”

“You are neither disturbed nor disgruntled by the revelation?”

“I’m surprised, but it doesn’t put my shirt in a knot.”

“A shirt and a shoe. Neil, I hope you will understand my failure of communication. These times—”

“I understand. I just wish you’d trusted me more. I was raised a Catholic, you know. I ain’t one now, but some of the best people in my life were believers. I wouldn’t ever blow the whistle on you.”

“Whistle?”

We said no more, since we had emerged from the woods and were walking into a full-blown celebration. The bride and groom stood holding hands, smiling beatifically, gazing into each other’s eyes. Maria was happily weeping, and the three male attendants were popping open a champagne bottle and distributing glasses (real glass). These disparate pilots—flax-haired Jan, ebony Loka, and swarthy Vladimir—shared a common joviality and fondness for making toasts, which they raised continuously and with increasing frivolity, until Paul called a temporary halt.

He darted back to the AEC he had arrived in and returned within seconds strapping a sword and scabbard about his waist. Clicking his heels together, he faced Pia and withdrew the sword. Standing at attention before her, he lifted it high with the hilt at the level of his heart.

“To you, my Pia,” he declared solemnly, “I swear that with this sword and with my whole being I shall guard you all the days of your life. We will love each other into eternity. From our union will come forth many children, who will be our great treasure. I will guard them and lead them in all ways, with you as my companion forever.”

With that, he sheathed the sword and dropped down on one knee. He took her ring hand and kissed it. Standing, he said no more, and the rest of us knew that silence was best now. These two were swimming in some fathomless sea unknown to us, and it looked like they had gone beyond all time.

Pia whispered, “
Kinyaz Pavel
.”

“
Knyaginya Pia
”, he replied.

Later I was to learn that
knyaz
is the Russian word for “prince”,
knyaginya
for “princess”.

Maria, practical mother that she was, cleared her throat and went to one of the AECs and retrieved a picnic basket and some blankets. We all returned to the lakeside and spread the blankets on the grass, sat down, and commenced the wedding banquet.

There were more toasts, food, stories, tears, laughter. I cannot describe everything now, but for my future remembrance, let me say that this bright shining moment will remain forever as one of the finest experiences of my life.

Day 110
:

Yesterday, after the celebrations, more supplies were offloaded from one of the AECs, including cooking and sleeping gear. Paul and his friends erected an alpine dome tent by the waterfall. He and Pia would spend their honeymoon in the valley, since both of them had arranged for a week’s vacation from their departments. Outside of our group, no one would know where they were. As far as the authorities knew, they were two unconnected people, among many off-duty
Kosmos
staff, who were spending their free time as guests of Base-main and taking excursion flights here and there on the continent. It was a common thing to see “couples” go away alone together, as long as they reported in to the base at regular intervals. Romantic weekends were not illegal. What Paul and Pia had done was definitely illegal, and though they weren’t in the least worried about it, they wanted to begin their life together in blissful solitude, without official scrutiny.

As the rest of us were preparing to depart from the valley, I raised the topic of dangerous predators. In answer, Paul unsheathed his sword and revolved it slowly over his head with a grim expression, making us all laugh. Then he patted his jacket pocket and withdrew from it a hefty old pistol that “would bring down a mastodon”, he assured us. There would also be a perimeter e-fence whenever they slept. Moreover, they would have radio communication with the other Russian, who was stationed at Base-main, twelve hundred kilometers to the northwest. In an emergency, Vladimir could be here within twenty minutes.

With more blessings, final words, embraces all around, we boarded the three AECs. Maria, Dariush, and myself would be taken separately to different mission bases, and there we would catch shuttle rides back to the
Kosmos
. I donned my orange monkey suit and strapped myself into the copilot’s seat beside Loka. Two hours later, I was back in my own little room, orbiting the planet.

Day 112
:

I have been enjoying myself in the libraries, accessing satellite-streaming vids of every section of Nova. The resolution is very high quality, and I worry that the newlyweds will be spotted from above. I have just spent hours looking down on the mountain tops of the central range, zooming in so close that creeks draining the high snow-fields were the width of my finger. Just in case there were any monitors tracking computer use, I examined closely a number of hanging valleys to the north of the one I most wanted to see. Working my way down the range, I finally found it with the help of the degree coordinates that Loka had written out for me.

There it was! Yes, the tiny circular lake, the stream cascading into it, the white foam of the waterfall, the ring of trees, the surrounding alpine meadows. I zoomed in as close as possible and noticed a big rock that I couldn’t remember being there. Then I realized I was looking down on the roof of the tent—on screen it was about the size of a fingernail. A swift scan around it revealed no trace of human presence. I zoomed out and went on to the next valley, and continued like that for another hour, looking into nooks and crannies that held little interest for me but laid a false trail. Perhaps it was unnecessary, but I felt it best to be extra cautious.

Day 115
:

I had supper with Dariush this evening in the Asian restaurant. We conversed entirely in Kashmiri, replaying our amazing adventure in quiet voices. There is still no word on when his language team and the archaeologists (now considered redundant) will have their courtesy week on Nova.

We did not touch on religious topics. I cannot bring myself to suddenly switch gear and call him “Fr. Ibrahim”. I have known two other priests in my life, Fray Ramon when I was a child, and an unnamed man whom I met briefly with my father in sad circumstances. They both seemed to be very decent men, living heroic, if clandestine, lives. There is no antipathy in me toward Christians, though I am troubled anew, as I have not been since my youth, by the suppression of religious freedom. Why, in our very democratic home planet, is there such suppression?

Day 116
:

Cloud cover over the mountain ranges—it’s raining down there.

Again, supper with Dariush. Today, we ate in the Mexican food place. It wasn’t crowded, since so many people are away downstairs on the planet. We both are trying to reconfirm our friendship, despite my radically changed concept of him.