The Good Ship Wanderer

By Sam C. Stiger

Laysa Coralla has it made. As the daughter of one of the wealthiest men on her planet, her future has been carefully planned: a wealthy husband, a beautiful home, the perfect ending. Then Laysa's life is altered drastically when she learns a terrible secret: she is the descendent of a race of evil warlords, a people long ago banned from the safe planets. Declared unfit for her home, Laysa is banished to outer space. She is thrown into an alien world of shimmering ships and constant battle, where gem-laden gang lords wield electrical weaponry and animals are engineered to kill. Many are lost among the stars, their souls sold for a sacred but evil name. Desperately lost, Laysa has no choice but to join the people she has always believed are monsters, to seek refuge as the servant of a frightening warrior and, inevitably, to wonder if she herself is good or evil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Whiskey Creek Press
• Release date: May 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781611608021

Book preview

The Good Ship Wanderer

by

Sam C. Stiger

WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Published by

WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

Whiskey Creek Press

PO Box 51052

Casper, WY 82605-1052

www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Copyright Ó 2014 by Sam C. Stiger

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

ISBN: 978-1-61160-802-1

Cover Artist: Gemini Judson

Editor: Jeremy Tyler

Printed in the United States of America

Dedication

For my Mom, Joanne Mulvey

Chapter 1

When Wanderers are found hiding on our safe and stable planets, they must be expelled. Though they look like humans at first, all of them are hiding their true natures. All of them are lying in wait, waiting for the proper time to strike.

-Thwip Kay

The roar of the ship did not hide the sound of the young girl’s ragged breathing.

Everyone could hear her, but no one made any attempt to distract from the sound.

No one spoke over her and no one reached out to comfort her.

As much as they wanted to ignore her, they all stole anxious glances her way. She sat right under one of the blue cabin lights, which gave her face an alien glow and added a halo to her tangled mass of dark hair.

She refused to look at any of them.

Breathe in, breathe out, stare ahead.

All the men would rather have dealt with her fighting again than watch her sit in that trance, but she had fought herself into a stupor. Back on the ground, screaming and flailing and biting had done her no good. Bruises still bloomed on her arms where they were bound, and on her puffy, teary-eyed face that looked so sullen.

Finally the Ship-Keeper spoke. We are at eighty quips. Get her helmet on.

One of the crew held the bulky helmet on his lap. He stood up slowly and walked over to the little girl, his expression wary.

The girl’s breathing grew faster. She clenched her fists pathetically, unable to move her bound arms.

The cabin grew darker, and the blue light seemed to grow brighter.

The man stood in front of her and slowly lowered the helmet over her head. As he did, he locked eyes with her. Her expression was very cold for such a young girl.

The cabin went back to being silent when the man sat back down. The girl’s breathing sounded hollow from inside her helmet.

Then suddenly, Look!

One of the men stood up, pointing to a window of the ship. The others stood, all of them muttering and gasping. The girl could not see anything.

It’s them!

Streaks of light flew by the window and then were gone.

Good, now is the time. Let her join them.

The Ship-Keeper slowed the craft.

Two men moved to undo the metal clasps that held the girl’s arms, and as soon as they did she moved quickly, slamming her tiny fists into the first man’s face. He yelled, and he and his comrade held the girl down, flattening her on the floor.

Her screams filled the cabin as the men tried to get her under control. She kicked one of them in the nose and knocked another backward. Finally, two men held her arms and one her legs.

The girl decided that the man who she had kicked in the nose looked like an animal, but not the kind she kept in her home. He looked wounded and angry and wild, and he scared her the most.

The Ship-Keeper said, Do you have her?

Yes. Bind her arms and legs again if she is going to act this way!

The large, boxy ship slowed to a stop. The men bound the girl’s hands and legs as she howled in protest.

The man who had been kicked in the face held her up by the front of her collar and looked her in the eyes murderously. He was close and she could smell cold and smoke on his breath.

Do you see how defenseless you really are? He spat on the floor. I am a Planet-Keeper and you are the scum of Rhona.

The girl gritted her teeth and wiggled her bound hands. She didn’t know or care what a Planet-Keeper was.

Little Child. You see now? You can’t stand up to anyone, said the Planet-Keeper.

The girl stared at his face. The Planet-Keeper didn’t know it, but she was memorizing his nose, his eyes, his hairline, his every feature.

Blue-black eyes. Cold, smoke. Face like an animal that has no home.

The Ship-Keeper said, It’s time.

The animal-faced man put on a helmet and drug the girl to the airlock. They sat there alone as the air drained from the small room.

Five seconds, said the man, raising his eyebrows. Do you have anything to say for yourself?

Your name, said the girl.

What? The question threw him off.

What’s your name?

You should know. I’m the head Planet-Keeper, in charge of getting rid of creatures like you. I’m Thwip Kay. Why?

The girl didn’t answer. The airlock opened, and he grasped her arm. She screamed again, fighting him because she did not want to leave the ship, but she was bound and exhausted.

He grasped her shoulders, pushed her out into space, and shut the metal doors.

Chapter 2

Everyone on every planet both hates and fears Wanderers. It’s the one thing uniting us all.

- Bom Glee.

Laysa Coralla had always believed that she was at the center of everything. For the hundredth time she ran out across the bright green-blue fields under the three suns and lay there, looking out at the warm, blue-gray sky. She imagined she was in a ship, beginning her journey at the ground and flying straight up toward those suns. She imagined she could see everything—her planet, her solar system, her galaxy. She ran through the names she knew so well: Checkosive. Rhona. Moctigna.

My planet, my solar system, my galaxy.

I’m at the center. It’s mine.

She imagined she could see each planet individually, teeming with life and orbiting in perfect sync with each other, never slowing and in her mind never changing.

She was glad that her family lived on the outskirts of the King’s busy town. Her house was nestled in the hills, a magnificent structure of glass and stone and falling water.

Laysa had her own rooms at the top of the quiet, pretty house. She could see them from where she had flopped down, could see where the sun’s reflections shattered as they hit the water and glass.

That day was an important one. Her father had been made the head Planet-Keeper to the King, and he had announced that there would be a gathering to celebrate. Laysa always loved gatherings. When nightfall came, the wealthiest people dressed in their best clothing and got together to celebrate. Laysa loved being surrounded by music and laughter. There was always dancing, singing and drumming. The sounds shook the Earth and Laysa would think how wonderful it was to live for music for a night.

Now Laysa sat up quickly as she heard the sound of a ship rumbling away. That sound could only mean one thing: gifts. Hundreds of gifts were given to all the Planet-Keepers each year to thank them for their continuing allegiances among the planets in Rhona. The solar system was thanking them for doing their job, for maintaining allegiances for thousand of years, for keeping peace on the planets.

Laysa hurried inside to see what had been delivered. She gasped at the jewels and artwork and extraordinary clothing, trying it on and dancing around the house as the Home-Keepers organized it all.

Her mother patted her proudly on the head. You look stunning, Laysa.

Laysa Coralla thought of herself as an opposite.

Everyone she knew was fair, with yellow or blue eyes, and Laysa had dark eyes and olive skin. Everyone she knew also had strawberry and sun-colored hair that seemed to float. Her hair was heavy and black and hung like a curtain.

 Laysa thought that she was also the opposite of her friend, Reta. One day, she and Reta had paused in playing with Laysa’s digital game-screen to watch the suns set over the hills.

Reta exclaimed, Wow, the suns are so pretty from here!

Her eyes were fixed on the hills.

Laysa noticed that when the sun hit Reta’s clothing, the old, fraying threads stood out. Laysa shuddered at the thought of wearing worn-out clothes.

Yes, it is nice. I’m used to it, though, Laysa said with a shrug.

Used to it! I don’t think I could get used to seeing that! You are so lucky!

Strangely enough, there was no envy in Reta’s voice, only appreciation. It was something that had secretly always bothered Laysa. Other, more privileged girls who came to her house would exclaim in wonder, but behind their words was a longing. They were jealous because they were wealthy, but not as wealthy as Laysa. Reta was not jealous at all.

Come. Look at these, Laysa said, dragging Reta to the far side of the room where she kept her medals and awards. They were small, polished cubes etched with glowing words. The words swerved and changed, depending on from which direction they were viewed. There were nearly a hundred awards by then, all locked up in a glass case.

Wow! There are a lot, Reta said.

Yes. I won them all, Laysa said, studying them.

Wow! What did you win them for?

Laysa didn't know what to say. Her parents took her to many awards ceremonies and she always won something. She had always assumed she received them for simply being quite talented, but she had never thought to ask exactly what those talents were.

Instead of answering the question she asked, Do you have any medals?

She already knew the answer.

No, Reta replied, looking slightly nervous for a moment, then said, But I don’t mind! You have enough for both of us!

Hmm. Well, they are all mine, said Laysa, crossing her arms across her long hair. You’ll probably never have any.

I only meant—

Yes, I know what you meant. You are funny, Laysa said, furrowing her brow. She giggled then, to show she was only joking.

There was a knock at the door.

Come in! Laysa called, and a Home-Keeper came in, bowing. Laysa made her stay there in a bow, just to show off.

After waiting a moment she said to the servant, Yes?

Your mother says you can both come down to eat if you want—

Well, we’re busy, but we’ll come down in a little, Laysa said dismissively. Then she added, What did you make?

I think they made watered root and organic gree—

—Okay. I think I have something else to tell you. Laysa stood there and pretended to think. The Home-Keeper waited, frozen in a bow.

Nevermind. You can go, Laysa said after a moment. The Home-Keeper bowed out the door and shut it.

You have Home-Keepers? Reta said, sounding impressed.

Yes, we have lots.

They all do whatever you want? Reta asked curiously.

Yes, of course they do.

I don’t know if I’d like that, Reta said, then added quickly, for me, I mean.

You’d like it if you had them. You don’t have to do things yourself.

What’s her name? Reta said, motioning toward the door.

Her name? How would I know?

Reta frowned, and Laysa laughed. You are strange, Reta. Come on, let’s go to dinner.

After Reta left, Laysa’s mother spoke with her.

Did you like having Reta over today?

Laysa thought for a moment. I suppose…I didn’t dislike her, but…

—but she didn’t understand you, Laysa’s mother said knowingly.

Yes, I suppose that’s it.

She can’t understand you, Laysa. Which is why I want to bring up an important point; you shouldn’t have girls like her over anymore. People who don’t live like us simply can’t understand.

Right, Laysa said. She felt better. Something about playing with Reta had made her feel uncomfortable, and this had given her an excuse not to see her again. That was why she had felt uneasy; Reta simply could not understand her.

She asked the name of a Home-Keeper, Laysa said with discomfort.

How very strange!

That’s what I said, Laysa replied.

Well, you shouldn’t think about her anymore. Now go on and play.

Yes, Mother.

Laysa had not invited Reta over again and purposefully avoided her, though it did not occur to her until many years later that perhaps Reta hadn't wanted to see her again, either.

* * * *

Laysa? Laysa!

Laysa snapped back to attention, looking back from the window. The digital screen she had been holding went crashing to the floor. Her old tutor Sisil picked it up, shaking his head.

You are usually so focused on your lessons, Laysa. What's going on? He took care not to bump into Laysa's award shelf, which had tripled since she was a younger girl.

Laysa sighed. I know. There's a gathering tonight. I can't focus. She could already hear the town buzzing from her room far above.

The history of the royal line of Kemp Sonoria is far more important, but I can see this is a lost cause. I'll return tomorrow. He shook his head as a messenger appeared in the doorway, looking excitedly from Laysa to Sisil. Sorry, Laysa-

- Miss Coralla, Laysa corrected her.

Right. Miss Coralla. Not that I was listening to you, but I couldn't help but overhear that you are done. Ten young ladies and gentlemen have already asked if you are coming tonight. They want to know what you will wear, and if you will dance, and -

Sisil grinned. I'm too old for this. May I go, Miss Coralla?

Yes, please, Laysa said, even though she had told him to call her Laysa.

When night finally came, she and her parents met with the swarm of people outside the forest. The excitement was contagious, and soon people began tapping drums and strumming instruments. Laysa danced along with the others, weaving in and out of groups of people as the crowd moved into the forest. The night grew darker and people louder, and Laysa danced until she realized that something had changed.

She looked around for more of her friends, but couldn't find any. Someone pushed her and another person grabbed her arm. Laysa!

They shrieked, laughing and pushing her from person to person like she was a ball in a game until she shouted, That's enough!

 She wrenched herself free, heading for a quieter clearing in the forest. She felt the beat of the drums too loudly in her heart.

She saw another group of people and headed toward them. They were calmer than the rest of the crowd. It wasn’t until she was close that she saw it was a group of men, and her father was standing among them. All of them held strange blue dishes and held long sticks that resembled branches.

Father! She ran over to them, relieved to see that they were so calm. As she hurried closer, she realized that something was wrong. They were too calm.

Then she smelled a horrible, wet and rancid smell. The smoke coiling up from their strange dishes cast an odor that was heavy and cold. Laysa’s father turned to her, and she saw that his eyes were the same murky blue color of whatever was in his dish.

Laysa. His voice sounded thick and strange. He looked confused and distressed.

Laysa, go away.

Father, what is that?

Leave, Laysa.

You don’t look good. What’s the matter?

I said to leave!

Lasya looked around at the other Planet-Keepers. They stared blankly at her.

But father, won’t you come join—

—I said, get out of here!

Laysa froze, staring at him. He had never yelled at her before.

She hurried away, not understanding the enormity of what she had just seen.

The next day, her father left for a trip to another planet. When he returned, he brought with him an entire caravan of gifts for Laysa. He came strutting in with a grin, ruffling Laysa's hair.

I signed you up for about ten awards ceremonies! He laughed loudly, surprising the whole household with his mood. The message was clear: keep quiet, and you’ll get whatever your heart desires. Laysa kept quiet about the sticks and the blue smoke.

One afternoon when Laysa was nearly five Checkosive-years old, a young adolescent, her tutor met her by a creek bed in order to study the life that teemed there. When her hover ship arrived to take her home, she refused to get in.

I want to walk. It’s a nice day, She told the driver.

Your mother insists that you come home with me.

Don’t you dare disobey me. Go home. What my mother says to me is my business.

The driver flew the shuttle away, back down the well-manicured hillside.

Laysa wasn’t sure why she had done it — no one of her class ever traveled anywhere on foot. She just knew that she wanted to be alone for a while. Several girls were coming to her house later, girls her mother had chosen based on family status. Laysa didn't feel like seeing them.

She blinked in the sun and began to walk, cautiously at first. After a while the grass grew longer and wilder, and was interspersed with high, twisted trees. The farther she walked, the wilder and closer together the trees grew. Light fell in patches and the muddy ground was dotted with little white flowers. She heard the sound of a stream from somewhere close by.

The only problem was that her clothes were terribly heavy and uncomfortable. Her shoes kept sticking in the mud, making her feet numb. She bent down and unlaced the high, shiny white boots. She paused for a moment, looking around. She was wonderfully alone. She took a deep breath, sucking in fresh, damp forest air. Then she hastily untied and ripped off her stiff jeweled hat, and took off the heavy, looping metal decorations that sat over her hair and ears. She took off her blue, jewel-studded jacket-dress, and pulled her hair out of its painful, tight bun. The only thing she was left wearing were her thin brown pants that went under her dress, and her long, white undershirt that fell halfway between her waist and her knees. She had dozens and her mother wouldn’t notice if this one got dirty. She was wearing clothes that only common people wore, but she knew there was no one around to see.

Carrying her things haphazardly, and with her long dark hair falling all over her shoulders, she picked up a skip through the trees, humming.

She was skipping just like that when she heard the sound of a creek, and at the same time a voice said out of nowhere, Hello!

Laysa screamed and dropped her things, looking around, but the sound came from above her.

What would your mother say if she saw you dressed like that?

Laysa looked with horror and shock at a boy sitting above her in a tree. She got a glimpse of sunny blonde hair and the next moment he swung down and hopped to the ground, arms crossed, grinning.

Oh, this is funny! This is so funny! he said, and started laughing.

Laysa’s shock turned to anger.

How dare you, she said, how dare you look at me!

She scrambled to gather her things off the ground, then dodged behind a tree and pulled her dress back on over her undershirt.

Behind her, the boy howled with laughter. Laysa let out a shriek of indignation.

Cover your eyes!

All right, they’re covered.

Laysa stepped out from behind the tree, still fiercely adjusting her dress. True to his word, he held his hands up to his eyes and couldn't see a thing.

He said sarcastically, can I look now?

Yes, fine, snapped Laysa, folding her arms, it is not funny!

"It’s so funny."

He was slightly taller than her and had the typical fair complexion of someone from Checkosive. He had unbelievably curly, white-blonde hair, with freckles and clear blue eyes.

There was something slightly uneven about his face - maybe it was just his awkward age. He had long, lanky arms and legs, and was wearing a tattered Field-Keeper’s outfit. For some reason Laysa could not understand, he was very attractive, though she would never have admitted it even to herself.

Now, began Laysa, I don’t know who you are, but—

I know who you are. You don’t live far from me. You’re the head Planet-Keeper’s daughter. Everyone knows you. I see you around town with your friends.

I—well, I had no idea. I don’t usually talk to people like you.

She thought she should say this, thinking of her mother.

People like me? What does that mean? His voice did not sound defensive, merely curious.

I mean people who wear old clothes, and jump out of trees at innocent girls. I don’t talk to people anything like you.

Had her friends been with her, they would have laughed at this.

I know you don’t talk to people like me. I told you, I see you. He didn't say it unkindly, but something about the way he looked made Laysa feel strange, as if he saw through her.

You see me.

You knew my friend Reta. You were…friends.

Laysa felt uncomfortable for a moment, and felt a pang of guilt before replying, yes, and we didn’t get along all that well, so there you go. The know-it-all tone in her voice wavered for a moment.

I know.

Laysa frowned, wondering what Reta had said about her. Then she shook her head, and with her usual tone back full-force she said, I don’t even know why I am talking to you.

She said this as she picked up the rest of her things, which had somehow scattered in several different directions, then added, or why you are even here!

This is my home, said the boy.

What? The creek?

"No, silly. I mean my father owns this land. My house is less than a quip away."

A quip was quite close. A person could walk twenty or thirty of them in a day.

Laysa snorted. Well. I really don’t care. I have to be going.

She shifted her things in her arms and stalked off, slowly crossing the creek.

You were happy. The boy added from behind her. His voice was light, and he was smiling again, leaning against a tree and looking back at Laysa, who did not look back but froze for a second.

Back there, I mean. When you were skipping, you were happy. When I see you in town with your friends, you’re always miserable.

Laysa gave a condescending snort and continued on her way.

But I’m always laughing when I’m in town, she thought to herself indignantly, He can’t be watching, really.

Chapter 3

The best advice I can give to anyone human who meets a Wanderer is to offer him one of three things: wealth, weapons, or to run away. –Lemp Kemp Daw

The conversation hardly lasted more than five minutes, yet for some reason Laysa could not shake it from her thoughts. The image of the lanky, curly-haired boy who lived in the creek stayed with her until she fell asleep. Laysa told her mother about the boy the next morning, though she wisely left out the part about her being in her underclothes.

Be careful, Laysa, her mother said after hearing the story, boys like that are trouble, you know.

Yes, I know. He startled me.

Well, you should have been startled. Lurking around like that and scaring girls…I’m not surprised. Do you remember what he looked like?

I — not exactly. He was a little taller than me, and he had curly hair. Laysa remembered at that moment that he had very, shockingly blue eyes, but she didn't mention that.

A curly-haired lanky boy with impossibly blue eyes who lives in a creek and jumps out at girls.

It sounded like a horror story to her!

Her mother tugged on Laysa's hair, fixing her braids. Well, you should not walk home again after that. Take the shuttle that is sent for you! This is why we take the shuttle, Laysa. I hope you learned your lesson.

I have.

* * * *

Get your Sprunk Root here! Best in the town! Buy it fast!

Laysa wrinkled her nose at her friends as they walked from one polished building to the next. We should buy it all, she said.

Why? I hate Sprunk root.

Me too. If we buy it all, then there won't be any left for our parents to make us eat.

Her friends giggled. The town was bustling with hawkers and shoppers, and it seemed that everyone was out that day, thousands of feet tap-tapping on the high wooden walkway that creaked under the weight.

Then Laysa saw the blue-eyed creek boy walk past. He nodded, but didn’t acknowledge her more than that. She lowered her head as several of the girls giggled, laughing at him.

Who was that?

"What was he wearing?"

It’s too bad a boy so handsome is wasted on a lower class!

One of her friends looked over her ruffled pink collar, shooting Laysa a sly look. Look at Laysa, she’s blushing. She likes him.

Laysa frowned. I do not!

She told them about him scaring her.

It was your fault for walking home. Why would you do a thing like that?

Yes, I haven’t walked anywhere far in years. My mother says my feet might stop working!

Laysa said defensively, what does it matter? I will do what I want.

Hah, so if you want to walk, that means you will see the boy again, said one of her friends.

Next time you can dress in your bed clothes so you’ll match him. You know you want to see him again. I can tell—

—I don’t, Laysa said, her voice shaking. She clenched her fists. Her other friends noticed, with alarmed glances at each other, and they stopped speaking. The girl with the pink dress failed to notice this.

Yes you do, you want to see the poor boy again!

Stop it. Now.

The girl grinned at her. You are getting defensive!

"Now." Laysa gripped her friend's wrist, turning her so their faces were close.

Well, okay. The girl raised her eyebrows. You’re the one who brought him up. I was only joking.

Well I’m done bringing him up, she said, and everyone dropped the subject.

I don't care about him. My parents will chose someone for me to marry. No other boys will ever matter.

Laysa started walking home after every tutoring session. After a few days of doing this, she crossed paths with the boy again. He was sitting up in a tree, grinning and peeling a piece of fruit with a knife.

Hi, Laysa! I heard you defended me the other day. He said it like he had caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing.

No, that’s not true. I wasn’t defending you, I just didn’t want to talk about you, and it was— She broke off, making a face. That was weeks ago.

She continued walking.

But you came back. The boy said, not moving. He was still smiling.

No, I just like to walk, Laysa said, pausing and turning around.

You could have gone around.

It would take me all afternoon to go around. But if you don’t want me on your land—

I don’t mind.

Lasya continued walking and ignored him.

The boy called cheerfully, my name is Damer.

* * * *

As the months passed, Laysa's father began to leave often and for long periods of time, often coming home with the cold smell and blue eyes. Laysa pretended it didn’t happen. Instead, she focused on her education and what her tutor, Sisil, taught her. She loved learning about mathematics and art and the history of their planet, about science and technology. She learned that the solar system had been at peace for thousands of years, because long ago the Planet-Keepers had used their gifts to rid the system of evil. She learned that the main source of evil had been from a single race of people, who had long ago thrown the solar system into mass chaos and war. They had been banished from the planets and forced to wander the galaxy with no home.

They still live out there, Sisil warned her, and that is why interplanetary travel is monitored so closely. There are guards on board, and they are always watching for them. They will always be a threat to us.

Thinking about those people made Laysa