by Ladron Reece
91008.1200
One Year After Allow Me To Introduce Myself (in the year 2240)
-=Aboard the Trill Ship, on the Surface of the Planet Sveji=-
91008.1200
One Year After Allow Me To Introduce Myself (in the year 2240)
-=Aboard the Trill Ship, on the Surface of the Planet Sveji=-
Tolarum watched as Ladron once again vanished in the glow of the transporter. He was hiking again today. Always hiking. That’s all Ladron ever did anymore. As always, Tolarum was left to clean up the dishes from breakfast.
The more days went by, the more he wondered where exactly Ladron was going. Sure, he always beamed out dressed for a hike, but Tolarum snuck a peek into his duffle bag a few weeks ago and found Ladron’s pure white preaching outfit, the same one he had worn on Trill, neatly packed inside.
Then there were the transport logs. Ladron was beaming who knows what from site to site while he was gone. Tolarum wanted to ask him what exactly he was doing but he kept telling himself it was none of his business. Ladron’s life had been taken away from him, and if wasting the days away traipsing across the planet made him happy, then Tolarum had no right to complain.
After all, he himself spent most of his time wandering around the ship, setting traps for food and experimenting with the local flora to see if anything could be turned into a decent salad. He had had some success, and even started a small garden by transplanting the seeds of some of the edible plants he had found.
He had hoped to use the ship’s sensors to try and scan beyond the horizon for more forms of life here, but for some reason the sensors were just not working, and he lacked the know-how to repair them. In fact they hadn’t worked since shortly after they had arrived here. That left only good old-fashioned exploration as the only means to discover their surroundings.
While Tolarum was content to stay where it was safe, near the ship, Ladron seemed willing to go to all corners of the globe. Tolarum was not so adventurous.
Still, he wondered. He looked at the transporter logs again, which were just a bunch of meaningless numbers corresponding to latitude and longitude lines on the planet. Meaningless because while they represented a particular place, Tolarum had no idea what was there. A mountain? An ocean? With his luck if he followed Ladron he would beam in right over open water and end up drowning because he didn’t take a set of scuba gear with him.
There was one set of coordinates however that popped up time and again. Sometimes Ladron would beam there, sometimes he would beam back form there, and sometimes Ladron would transport himself, or something, there while he was gone.
Tolarum brought up the coordinates of the most recent transport. His heart began to race with fear. He was not the kind of man who relished facing the unknown. What if this was some sort of jungle? Or savanna? There could be an animal the size of a shuttlecraft at the other end of this transport cycle that finds Tolarum a tasty midnight snack.
Ladron had asked time and again for his privacy to be respected, but enough was enough. Tolarum wasn’t going to spend the rest of his natural life paralyzed by fear, nor was he going to spend it alone here every day with no idea where his only companion in life was.
He shut his eyes with his finger right over the transport button, and pressed it.
When he rematerialized, the first thing he was aware of was the sound. The unmistakable roar of internal combustion engines filled his ears, and then soon after came the stench of their exhaust. He opened his eyes and looked around.
He was standing in an alley between two large structures constructed of ancient masonry materials. They had used them on Trill hundreds of years ago as well before everything became constructed of advanced composites and polymers. At the end of the alley on each end were the streets where the automotive noise was coming from. Cars and trucks of all sizes rumbled past, and only now did he realize there were people walking down the sidewalk past the alley as well.
Tolarum ducked behind a scratched and dented automobile that had apparently been abandoned there to conceal himself lest someone look his way. At first glace of the others hear, he could tell they looked very little like a Trill, and would easily be able to discern that he did not belong here.
*Why didn’t you tell me, Ladron?* Tolarum thought. All this time there was a civilization on this planet, and Tolarum had been completely oblivious.
He slipped around the car towards a garbage bin that was close by. He took a deep breath to help deal with the stench of rotting food and suddenly wished he had not complained about the smell of the automobile exhaust.
Tolarum slid the door of the dumpster open, and took a look inside. As expected there was not very much inside that appeared as if it could be of use to him. He tugged on a newspaper that was sticking out of the top of one of the bags, and opened it up. The words were unknown to him, but it would serve as a decent enough cover until he could procure a more adequate disguise.
He pulled up his collar to hide any spots on the back of his neck, and held the paper up to cover his face, as if he were reading it. He took measured steps to be sure he wouldn’t trip on anything, and slowly stepped out onto the sidewalk, and amongst the people. After a few minutes the universal translator allowed him to understand what they were saying, even if he could not read any of the store names or street signs around him.
Across the street, he saw an assortment of clothes and hats in the display window of a large store. That was where he needed to be. The problem was crossing four lanes of traffic without being able to see beyond the newspaper in front of you.
Stepping to the edge of the sidewalk, he tried to hold the paper steady against the gusts created by the cars and tracks zipping past. He peeked to the left and then the right, waiting for the traffic signals at either end of the street to stop the flow of traffic. When it did, he casually stepped off the sidewalk.
As he reached the middle of the street, a car at one end turned onto his street, and began accelerating towards him. He heard the horn blare and realized the impatient driver wished for him to get out of his or her way as quickly as possible.
Tolarum glanced around the edge of the papers, and saw the black vehicle with a skull painted on the hood bearing down on him. In a panic, he dropped the newspaper and ran. The driver slowed down and yelled out the window.
“Get the hell out of the road, jackass!” Then she slammed on the gas and took off back down the street.
“Charming.”
His annoyance with the local youth soon turned to panic, when he realized his cover was gone, and a young woman in some sort of business attire with a large bag slung over he shoulder was staring at him with her mouth hanging open. Tolarum stammered, trying to search his mind for an excuse. As he looked at the woman’s face, he suddenly realized something very odd about her.
She had spots.
“You are probably wondering…”
The woman closed the gap between them, grasped Tolarum on either side of his head with her hands.
“Remarkable,” She exclaimed as she turned his head from side to side.
“I can explain.”
“Who is your plastic surgeon? I have to know. I took me three months just to get the spots.”
Other people walking by merely smiled and nodded at Tolarum. None of them seemed the list bit unsettled by the fact that he looked so much different from them.
“Well he’s a local guy, I guess.”
“Write down the number,” The woman demanded. She shoved a scrap of paper and a pen into Tolarum’s hand.
Unfortunately he had no idea what a number looked like here. He looked at several symbols on the facades of the nearby buildings, and began mimicking them on the paper. Just to be sure he folded the paper up, hoping she would not read it until later. The woman tucked it into her purse.
“Listen, maybe you can help me since I helped you. I left my money at home and I came into town to busy a new shirt and hat.”
“For the sermon? Say no more. I’d be happy to help you. Its not like money will mean anything soon anyways right.” She laughed and linked her arm with his.
Tolarum forced laughter on his own, having no idea what she was talking about, but figuring it was best to go along. She guided him into the clothing store, where Tolarum was once again greeted by smiles and friendly waves. The clerk even made a comment that his 'dedication was clear and would serve him well.'
“Thanks,” Tolarum replied.
He picked out a shirt with a large collar he could flip up over his spots, a hat with a huge brim, and a pair of sunglasses that would adequately conceal his true nature. His female companion paid without any hesitation, and walked him out of the store.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Tolarum began, but she waved him off.
“You already have,” She said, patting the side of her purse where she had tucked the note with the number for the imaginary plastic surgeon. “See you at the Sermon!” The woman dashed off, heading in the same general direction everyone seemed to be headed. Tolarum found a secluded doorway where he changed his shirt, and donned the hat and sunglasses to conceal himself.
He followed the throngs of people, heading for he did not know what, but he imagined it must have something to do with this “sermon” the woman kept mentioning. The sun was setting and streetlights were popping on around him. Above he saw the first twinkle of a star in the sky. While it was only morning on the ship when he had departed, here night was about to fall.
The crowds grew thicker the farther he walked, and in the distance a massive structure loomed. People filled the streets around it, and Tolarum quickly realized they were approaching a large stadium. There was a large banner draped over the side of the stadium which he could not make out from the distance he was still at.
As darkness fell completely, he was nearly blind behind the sunglasses. He pulled up his collar a little tighter, and the brim of his hat down a little lower, and took the sunglasses off. He looked up now at the darkened banner, which he was almost directly below, just as a spotlight turned on to illuminate it. There, staring back at him, was the four story tall face of Ladron Reece.
“Ladron, what have you done?”
It all made sense now. The unexplained transports, the preaching suit in the duffle, the desire to be left alone, even the “malfunctioning” sensors, which Tolarum was guessing Ladron had sabotaged to keep the truth of this world from being discovered. Ladron had located the native population of Sveji, and picked up right where he had left off on Trill.
“Blessed be all those who enter Wonderland.” A young man handed Tolarum a small flower, the moved on to provide the same blessing to others who were waiting to be admitted into the stadium.
“A Trill never changes its spots,” Tolarum said to himself.
He went back the way he had come, finding the first ally he could use for cover to return to the ship. As soon as he arrived, he looked up the transport logs to find that location Ladron kept sending things to. He recharged the transporter, and beamed directly to the location.
When he arrived, he found himself standing outside a massive hilltop mansion. Alongside the building was a warehouse of some sort. The mansion no doubt must have belonged to one Ladron Reece, but the warehouse intrigued him. He looked around to make sure no one had seen him, and jogged over to the door.
He opened it, and what he saw beyond the door dazzled him. There were riches as far as the eye could see. Dozens of automobiles, literal piles of money and jewels, racks of suits and other clothing, artwork and sculptures. Tolarum shook his head.
Ladron was going to have a lot of explaining to do.
**************
Ladron Reece
Soothsayer
Ladron Reece
Soothsayer