In My Life . . .

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Back to Part 1 of In My Life . . .

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“I can’t believe he got lost,” Harlan said, shaking his head in disgust. “He’s always saying how Andromedans have such a wonderful sense of direction - if it’s so wonderful, how’d we get separated? And why isn’t he back yet?”

The Christa was refueled, it had been given a clean bill of health by the planet mechanics, and was now declared completely space-worthy. The crew was ready for takeoff, and were planning to leave the planet that very night. There was just one small problem . . . they didn’t have a navigator.

“He’s never coming back,” Bova said flatly. “He’s gotten hopelessly lost, and he’s going to spend the rest of his life wandering the streets of this pathetic planet. Or, with our luck, he’s been captured by the Spung and they’re going to force him to tell them where the rest of us are. We’re doomed.”

“Oh, Bova, don’t be silly!” Rosie said. “He’s perfectly fine - he’s - probably just . . . lost track of the time or something. I’m sure he’ll be back really soon.” But for the first time that anyone could remember, Rosie looked as though she herself didn’t entirely believe her cheerful comments.

“According to our records, we’ve got over two hundred prisoners in this holding bay - almost the entire Spung population of the planet,” Toma said proudly. He’d offered to give his new friend a tour of the prison bay - a task that he always enjoyed. Toma was famous among the cadets for his extensive knowledge of Spung customs and culture - although the way he’d learned his information had never been asked - and he knew that the Spung used to show off the torture chambers that they used for their disobedient slaves. It was always fun to watch their reactions when they themselves were subjected to the same embarrassing treatment. “YAASC has contacts spread out throughout the universe, and we all report to the same headquarters on the home world. There actually aren’t many of us on this planet - only about fifty, and we’re usually pretty spread out. We’re just clustered in this area right now because of the festival. It draws people from hundreds of different planets, and the planetary government appreciates our help in removing some of the garbage from the streets.”

The new cadet looked around him anxiously. An image surfaced in the back of his mind - something from a history book. A picture of the prison chambers used during the war - this corridor, with its musty smell and almost nonexistent lighting, gave him the same chill that he had felt when he’d seen that picture. How old was I when that happened - three? Four? He bit his lip, fighting back tears for possibly the hundredth time that day - in Andromedan society, it was taboo for even small children to show emotion in public. But he was so frustrated!

A horrible thought suddenly occurred to him . . . what if he never recovered from this? Spending the rest of his life only able to recall incoherent bits and pieces of his past? All the experiences he’d had before he met Toma and his friends - gone. Forever.

The thought made him shudder.

Almost with relief, he realized that his new friend was speaking again - hopefully, Toma was saying something that would get his mind off his own dark thoughts. “Hey, do you want to see our special captive?” he asked. The new recruit could hear him struggling unsuccessfully to keep his voice calm - whoever this “special captive” was, they were certainly someone worth getting excited about.

“She’s one of our newer prisoners,” Toma said. Suddenly letting his excitement loose, he turned to his listener eagerly. “A Spung princess! That’s a major accomplishment for us! We found her wandering the streets of the planet. I can’t believe they’d leave someone so important without a personal guard, but their loss is our gain. We’ve sent a message to her killcruiser, and told them that we’d keep her for three days. Her time’s almost up and we haven’t gotten a response yet - if I know the Spung, they won’t respond to us. They won’t want to admit that we’ve created a coordinates block that their ‘brilliant engineers’ can’t get through. But the way I look at it, we win either way. She’s the daughter of a powerful warlord - and I guess, from what we can get out of her, she has some talents that would make her a valuable asset even without royal background. So if they locate us, they’ll do anything to get her back. We can get whatever we want! And if worse comes to worse and we don’t get a response, they’ll still want her body for burial. Anyway - do you want to see her?”

The stranger nodded cautiously. He was still unsure of his thoughts about this practice of the Spung being forced to pay for what they did to the Andromedans. I guess I’m a little afraid of what the empire would do to us if they found out, he thought. Well, after all the horror stories the adults told us back home, it’s no wonder . . . wait. What stories? Try as he could, he couldn’t remember a single horrible tale - just the feeling of an icy-cold lump in the pit of his stomach as he crouched in fear, listening to the ghastly stories of the enslavement.

The leader’s voice abruptly brought him back to reality. “Well, here we are - what do you think?” He grinned. “See? We gave her the prison suite - the only room in the place that actually has enough space for her to reach out an arm without brushing against another one of the disgusting things. Usually, we’d chain two or three of them together to conserve space. But hey, she’s a princess - she deserves the royal treatment, don’t you think?”

Toma laughed casually, hoping that his internal tumult wasn’t too obvious. Toma 023, he said to himself firmly, why are you keeping this girl alive? You know very well that she’s been here at least a week . . . why can’t you just finish her off? And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to give the order for her execution. She fascinated him - and she seemed to have the same effect on many of his cadets. There’s another reason, isn’t there? a sinister voice in the back of his mind was saying. He quickly silenced it - he couldn’t let his personal feelings influence a decision that would bring so much good to the group. Still, there was no doubt that there was something incredibly interesting about the girl . . . he watched anxiously to see his guest’s reaction to her.

The new recruit looked curiously at the Spung girl. As he met her gaze, he felt a chill go down his spine - she was looking right at him, definitely with recognition. Her eyes were filled with a strange kind of hopeful anticipation. And he realized with a shock that her face was bringing back memories - images from his shattered past. A great, unreasonable fear, more than he should have felt because of a simple girl. And mingled with it was disbelief . . . they were letting her stay on the ship? Were they insane? A Spung? But who was he talking to? The faces were blurs of color. The image faded into the soft sound of a silvery voice, speaking what seemed to be poetry. And finally, there was the powerful image of soft lips brushing his cheek.

Was I a traitor? he thought, shaking with fear. And yet . . . judging from the fuzzy images he could recall, it seemed that after that initial terror, he hadn’t felt any more fear connected with the girl. But why? Female or not, she was still a Spung! The Spung are horrible, evil creatures - you know that! What were you in your other life? He was almost afraid to speculate. He’d heard some of the other YAASC members whispering behind his back . . . that only another Andromedan could have been powerful enough to inflict his injuries. Some thought that he was a traitor - one of the few that chose to stay with the Spung rather than returning to community life. Others were certain that he had been a brainwashed servant. Either of these shocking scenarios would have given any self-respecting Andromedan plenty of reason to cause his injuries. When he had mentioned it to Toma, the leader had just laughed it off . . . but now he was having doubts himself. What if they were right?

Of all the possible scenarios Elmira had imagined as to how she would get out of this horrible situation, she had never considered help coming from within the YAASC organization itself. When she had heard voices in the corridor, she had prepared herself for the worst - the young Andromedan leader loved to show her off to his new recruits, a process that was inevitably humiliating. Especially being “checked out” by the male cadets . . . they all seemed to be equipped with three times the usual number of hands, prodding and poking her as though they were examining a piece of meat on a butcher’s counter. She had no knowledge of the Andromedan language, but she could make a pretty confident guess as to what they said to one another that always caused outbursts of loud male laughter.

But as soon as the leader had turned the corner this time with his newest guest, her heart had leaped. Radu! What was he doing here? And in that awful uniform, nonetheless! She’d been miserable only seconds before - she knew instinctively that this group wouldn’t keep her alive much longer. But now that Radu was here, everything was going to be all right!

As she looked closer at him, she noticed that he was doing an amazing job of pretending not to recognize her. He stared intently at her, almost as if he were trying to figure out where he knew her from. Wait a minute, she thought. He could never keep himself under such tight control. Much as she would have liked to think that he was perfect in every way, she knew full well that his emotions were always plain for the world to see. What was going on?

The new cadet turned to Toma. “Do I know her from somewhere?”

“Hah! Not likely. She’s a very highly-ranked princess - if you’d been on that killcruiser, you wouldn’t be here. They keep their ‘servants’ very close . . . you’d never leave their cruiser alive,” he finished grimly. “Her father has a reputation for being especially harsh with those who disobey him - have you ever heard of Warlord Shank?”

He thought a moment, then shook his head. “No.”

“You should be glad,” Toma said ominously. Noticing the other’s curiosity at the obvious tension in his voice, he purposely changed the subject. “Come on - let’s head back. I don’t like the way she’s looking at us - almost as if she did recognize you.” He looked at his newest cadet suspiciously.

I know her from somewhere, the new recruit thought, setting his jaw. Maybe . . . maybe I was a servant of hers, or - something. Hah! I wish! She’s so beautiful . . . He stopped, horrified at what he had done. No. No, I didn’t just call a Spung female beautiful. That’s - impossible! And yet he couldn’t keep the girl’s face out of his mind. She doesn’t deserve to be here . . . what am I doing? Am I defending a Spung? What’s wrong with me?
“So, you see? It’s not just the satisfaction you get from the job that makes it worthwhile. There are some personal benefits, too,” Toma explained. The two were walking on the main drag of the fairgrounds, deep in conversation. “We’re instantly recognizable by everyone on the planet - we get free admittance to the festival, and reduced prices on most of the merchandise.” He paused, looking extremely self-important. “It’s the very least the planet can do, considering the effort we expend ridding their planet of its Spung filth!”

As the new cadet opened his mouth to answer, he was cut off by the sudden arrival of a small Mercurian female. The girl came flying out of nowhere, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Radu! I’m so glad I found you - where were you?” she cried. She hugged him tightly, and he was surprised to find himself returning the hug. Looking over the girl’s head, he saw Toma giving him a curious look. Embarrassed, he quickly disentangled himself.

“Uh, I . . . I think you might have the wrong person,” he said hesitantly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

She looked at him, eyes brimming with tears. “Radu?”

“I think . . . I think you might be a little confused,” he said, as gently as he knew how. “I don’t know you - sorry.”

The girl stared at him, horror-stricken, then spun around and rushed off, disappearing in the crowd. Turning, he saw Toma staring at him. “You can speak the universal language?” he asked, amazed. “Most of us understand some of it, but there are only a few - me and two or three others - that can speak more than a few words.”

“I was speaking the universal language?” he said in astonishment. “Hey! I did, didn’t I!” Mentally he added, There’s another piece of the puzzle. If I can speak the universal language, then that means I had to communicate with people outside my own race. I must have been a slave.

He closed his eyes, remembering the strange girl who had rushed up to him. The more he thought about it, he realized that her face was bringing back memories. A friendly hand on his shoulder when he had been picked on, alone, “the new kid.” A favor that he’d done for a friend . . . something involving an antique Earth toy. But accompanying that were terrible feelings; a terrible icy cold - he’d never been so cold before. He was watching in horror as his crewmates became hideous monsters. Suddenly, he knew that he was alone again, the only one left in control of himself - the sole crew member not in the grip of this horrible alien life form.

Is that what happened? Was I part of a crew that caught some awful disease? Maybe . . . maybe I was the only one that survived. Maybe it didn’t have as strong an effect on Andromedans, and I was able to make it to the planet and be found by the YAASC cadets. If that’s what happened, then Toma’s right - I really don’t have anywhere else to turn. But . . . that girl recognized me - or at least, she thought she recognized me. What was it she called me? Radu? Is that my name? He shook his head. This was an overload of information - too much to absorb all at once. His headache was returning.

Suddenly, his eyes flew open. An idea had occurred to him. The Mercurian girl was gone - he hadn’t seen which way she had run. But now he had a very useful piece of information: he knew that he could speak - and understand - the universal language. Which meant that he could ask questions about himself - he could speak to the other person whose face had triggered memories. I’ve got no other choice, he said to himself. I need to see the Spung girl.
“Rosie, are you sure it was him?” Suzee asked incredulously. “I just can’t imagine him saying, ‘Sorry, you’ve got the wrong person,’ and then ignoring you when you started crying and just letting you run away without even trying to call you back.”

“I thought it was him - I was sure it was him! But then I - I talked to him and . . . and . . . it wasn’t him!” Rosie broke down again, for possibly the tenth time since she’d returned to the ship with Bova - and the news that they’d seen Radu.

“I told you running up to him like that was a bad idea, Rosie,” Bova said quietly. “I said, ‘For all we know, it could just be some guy that looks like him.’ But you went ahead and did it anyway - and what do you know? It wasn’t him.” He shook his head as if to say, Why does no one ever listen to me?

“Okay. Worst-case scenario: this guy isn’t him,” Harlan was saying. “If that’s true, then we’re right back where we started. If you did see him, then at least we know he’s alive.” He was trying his best to sound encouraging, but the truth was that even Rosie had just about lost hope that they’d ever see their quiet navigator again. “I know one thing, though - I’m not leaving without him.”

Silently, the others agreed.
“Why are you so anxious to get night guard?” Toma asked. “There’s absolutely no good side to it. You sit there for hours, completely exhausted, staring at more scaly green faces than there should ever be in one place at a time. And the night shift is more dangerous than the daytime watches you’ve done before . . . we’ve never had a breakout during the day.”

“You always take night guard,” the new cadet said calmly. “I mean, you’ve done so much for me - you took me in and made me one of you, and stuck up for me when the others were trying to spread those ugly rumors . . . ” The rumors that might be true, he added mentally, feeling a chill go down his spine. “This one little thing doesn’t even come close to repaying the debt I owe you - it’s the very least I can do.”

“Well . . . okay . . . ” Toma said, in a tone of voice that clearly added, “You’re crazy for doing this - but I’m not turning down the chance to get a good night’s sleep for once.”

“Flattery will get you anywhere.” A conspiratorial grin on the face of a dark-skinned human boy. A friend? Much as he didn’t like arousing Toma’s suspicions by doing something so out of the ordinary, he was determined that he would get answers to his questions that very night. He was not leaving this building with his past still in shadows, no matter what it took.

As Toma walked out of the holding bay, he looked suspiciously behind him. There’s something very strange about him, he thought. No one knows anything about him - who is he? Where did he come from? He can speak the universal language, he insisted that he knew that Spung girl . . . and now he’s determined to get the night guard. He thought of the bit of information he’d neglected to tell his new friend about the universal language - that the ones who knew it, including himself, had all been servants on killcruisers. And the newcomer was far too young to have been involved in the war itself. Toma set his jaw. I bet that this memory loss is all a bluff. He does know the girl - I can tell it from the way he was staring at her. What if he’s a spy from her cruiser, sent to bring her back safely?

It’s all her fault, he thought angrily. Well, she won’t be getting any more charity from me. She’s going to the execution block tomorrow - and he is staying here. A look of fierce determination came into his eyes. And I’m going to find out what’s going on with this new recruit of ours. Tonight.
The curious outsider stood pressed against the wall, knowing all too well how obvious he was in these strange surroundings, what easy prey he would be for anyone who knew their way around these shadowy corridors. Now that he was in their position, he understood the reluctance that the others felt about taking this post - why they were always willing to let it be Toma’s job. The feeling of being walled in, completely surrounded by the prisoners took some getting used to.

Cautiously peering around the corner, his breath caught in his throat as he caught a glimpse of the ethereal princess, still sitting in the position they’d left her in. She looked hopeful, expectant . . . far less depressed, at any rate, than he would be in her place. He wondered if she knew her fate. He’d heard the others discussing the news - news that supposedly came straight from Toma himself. The Spung girl’s execution was scheduled for the following day.

Steeling himself, he stepped forward. “Princess?” he whispered shyly, unsure of her name or even the proper title with which to address a person of her status.

Her expression brightened immediately at the sound of his voice. Turning as far as her chain would allow, she found herself just able to face him. “Radu?”

At the name, he froze. That’s the same thing the Mercurian called me - I’m sure of it. But this girl couldn’t have known that . . . it must be my name, he thought. But if that’s true . . . how does a Spung princess know my name? Toma had told him that if he had been a slave, the chances were good that he’d never been called by his full name. The Spung referred to their servants only by identification numbers. If she knows my name, I must have given it to her - but why? Why would she need to know anything other than the number? He was trembling now, afraid to go forward. Stop being so childish, he told himself firmly. You have to know. Go talk to the girl.

Elmira squinted, unsure . . . the lighting of their holding cells was so faint that clear vision was almost impossible. “I can barely see you,” she said quietly. “Come sit next to me - the light’s a little better over here.” As he stepped forward, her heart leaped. Only in her wildest dreams had she allowed herself to hope that he could be the one that came to rescue her.

But as she saw his sorrowful expression, her face fell. “What’s wrong?”

“I need help,” he said simply, embarrassed to find himself on the verge of breaking down again. Oh, sure, that’s going to get her sympathy, he thought. She has her own problems - and they’re a lot bigger than mine, that’s for sure.

This whole situation is completely absurd! The only person that I feel comfortable asking for help is a girl from an evil race, a prisoner of the group that I’ve agreed to join. She’s the one scheduled for execution tomorrow - and I’m asking her for help? Can I really expect her to completely forget her own problems and help me with mine - especially when I don’t even know if she can help?

He was on the verge of losing control when he noticed the soft look in the girl’s eyes. She patted the ground beside her. “Here - sit down and tell me what’s wrong.”

No - you shouldn’t just lower your defenses like that! an inner voice told him. But he ignored it. Deep in his heart, he knew now - somehow - that this girl wouldn’t allow anything bad to happen to him as long as she had any control over the situation.

Cautiously, he settled himself by her side. “I . . . I don’t know who I am,” he said, not even realizing that the tears were beginning to flow. “I can’t remember anything - all I have are little bits of memories whirling around inside my head. I don’t even know my own name!” His head was on his knees now - he was openly sobbing.

What? Elmira was shocked. So . . . he hadn’t come as a rescuer after all? He was, as far as he was concerned, a stranger to her, just asking for help with his own problems? She knew that if she could help him to remember who she was, he would do anything in his power to get her out. But what if - what if she couldn’t help him? What if her only opportunity for rescue walked out the door that night? Stop it, she told herself firmly. You are not important right now. Right now, all that matters is him.

Conquering her own tumult of emotions, she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’re all right,” she whispered. “I’ll help you. Don’t worry - together, we’ll get your memory back.”

Click here for Part 3 of In My Life . . .