Star Sailor #1: The Wolves of Sahlam

Star Sailor

  by: Chris Fox

  #1

  The Wolves of Sahlam

  a story published by Writers’ Bloc

  https://writers-bloc.tumblr.com/stories

  copyright: 2012

  This book is DRM free, because DRM is stupid. It would be nice if you downloaded this legally. But share it if you want to. Just let people know that they should buy the stories in this series if they can. The stories are cheap, and if you buy them, I won’t starve and can continue the story.

 

  In a Universe of infinite space,

  A girl travels by raft amongst the stars.

  #1 - The Wolves of Sahlam

  It's been so long, wrote Najima Dezetoiles in her black journal, passing under a deep blue gaseous planet, a distant red sun glimmering against Najima's white mast, caught in a solar wind that was eons old. So long since I had a proper meal. I get greedy. I've never been one for saving. When I have a choice of food, I always go for the best first. Why would I let it go to waste? I can nibble on grapes, I can munch on a salad, or I can have a delicious plate of curry and bhat with a Bandarban Snowdevil for dessert, I think the choice is fairly obvious. Besides, I'm a sucker for anything spicy.

  Najima bit her ink pen while watching the moons of the gaseous giant drift. The moon closest to her - there were twelve in view on this side of the planet – was spinning fast enough to be judged by the naked eye. After musing about what tides on a planet with so many moons would be like, she dropped her thoughts to play with her black hair, before refocusing her attention to her writing.

  But I haven't had any spices to spare in ages, which makes these long stretches all the more taxing. I guess it gives me more reason to visit more places. Then again, sometimes the long trips in the solitude of space are enlivening, even without spicy food. Gives you a chance to stew in your thoughts with silence and cold to blanket you. Not that my old blanket has been doing me justice lately.

  The bright orange thermal blanket was on the side of her rickety raft, in a slump near her pillow, all which was tethered with rope to hold it in place, there being no gravity in space. Najima learned the benefits of tethering everything - everything - to the raft the first time she set out beyond the atmosphere of her homeworld. She noted the tether on her leg, just above an ankle-bracelet made of shimmering twine that the distant light made flow in a dance of colour. But Najima didn't want to think about her ankle-bracelet, so she focused once more on her journal.

  The blanket, that poor thing. It was the yeti, that stupid yeti. If I hadn't decided to stay in that cave on Borof... If I just paid a few Paisaz for room at the inn... But no, I wanted to rough it on a cold-moon, just that once. And so the yeti decided, 'Why look, a tasty human meat-wrap delivered right to my cave, and warmed to just the right temperature. I think I'll have a bite.' I guess I should be glad that he was busy with the blanket long enough for me to tumble out. But I like blaming the yeti. It makes the story funnier, at least for me.

  Tucking the journal under her bottom, Najima opened her portable refrigerator near the mast, noting that the coolant was running below halfway - yet another thing to replace when she landed - and took out a small container of mostly-eaten hummus and a bag of Solar Crunch grain chips, which was admittedly almost empty as well. She ate them slowly and savoured the taste as she put distance between the blue planet and the nothingness that stretched before her before returning to her journal.

  The maps say I should be there within a day, although it's hard to say when a day is, since my tablet’s battery broke a few weeks ago, leaving me without a clock. Not that I mind. I like not knowing how long it takes to get around. Makes me focus on the sights more than the time. Makes it tough to know how long I've traveled, though. And makes it hard to wake up without all the preset alarms. My next destination is plotted, and my inertia should have me there sometime soon. Let's hope Sahlam II has cheap prices. Najima put her journal away, stowed it in her storage, and crawled into bed, fastening a new tether and shaking the chills out of her holey thermal blanket before letting the sound of the creaky raft ease her to sleep.

  She awoke with the pull of gravity. A moment of panic - the fear of falling - was replaced by one of awe, having sailed very near to a highly volcanic planet. A quick glance through her Multiscope told her this was Sahlam I, generally uninhabited. The light tug of gravity was easily directed against, as she was still safe from the pull of the planet. She soon replotted her raft to further out of orbit, and with her Multiscope's HUD, located Sahlem II. Sahlam II had two moons, one rich with water, the other rich in minerals; however, due to the distance from major centers of trade, Sahlam II was a sleepy rock out in space, which is part of the reason Najima chose it. Few citizens meant more relaxed townspeople, and little trade meant easier bartering. Najima was also popular on these backwater planets, since she had traveled so broadly, which her ego certainly didn't mind.

  She entered the orbit of the planet, and set her sights on the largest of the continents on the daylight side of the planet. She was below the stratosphere within the hour, greeted by the smell of crisp, salt oceans and the light of the morning sun.

  A good rule of thumb when entering a new planet, when one was not using their Multiscope to locate a destination, was to travel along the coast. Invariably, one would always find civilization on the ocean - a truly universal fact of human life. And so Najima skirted along the blue sky, adjusting herself to the pull of gravity and the temperate forests and emerald fields that lined the sandy beaches. Within half an hour, she located what seemed to be a small fishing village, judging by all the water-bound boats just off the coast. Najima, as she was accustomed, sailed her raft overhead of the village, circling a few times. She did this for two reasons: firstly, it was a good test to see whether the residents were friendly (if they were not, they would shoot at her); secondly, if the residents were friendly, especially in small towns, the sight of a space traveler was always cause for excitement. As expected, the town was friendly; children and gawkers alike began to collect in the streets, and as Najima sailed low to land along the seaside docks, a crowd raced down the stone outcropping to greet her.

  She unbuckled her tether, secured her personal belongings on her raft, and hitched her vessel to a stone pylon. Jumping onto the dock - her black boots leaving a loud clack on the ground - she faced her onlookers. "Hello! My name is Najima Dezetoiles! Take me to your leader! And by leader, I mean the nearest restaurant!"

  The elders and fishermen of the crowd shook their heads, clearly unimpressed, and trotted off as the children gathered around Najima, and started bombarding her with greetings and awestruck gasps at her raft. Proudly, unable to shake away her massive grin, she threw her shoulder-length black hair aside, and marched confidently toward the center of town. The young of the town followed her, desperate to learn more about the traveler.

  Najima loved to make these big entrances. She loved to entertain these innocent questions about deep-space travel, as she remembered being one of these children not too long ago. She humoured their curiosities of how long she had been sailing since her last stop planetside as they entered the quaint town. Simple brick-and-wood as well as stucco buildings, many of them home to fishing and butcher shops. She spotted the inn at the only intersection of the town, across the street from the mayor’s office, squished between several shops, all the buildings three stories tall and distinctly cubic shaped; dressed with bright colours of pink, baby blue, and lime green.

  Surveying the town, options for food were few: a grocer, a deli, and several fish spots, as well as the inn. She looked to the children, many of the boys admittedly taller than her, even though they appear
ed younger in age. She addressed them as they excitedly clamoured for a view of her. "Friends!" she hollered flamboyantly, attracting the attention of adult passers-by, "I must know, what shall I have to eat to welcome myself to your wonderful town?" All manner of options were announced: homecooked and cured native elk over oak; poison spikefish, raw over sweet-and-sour seaweed with a side of bhat and...

  "You!"

  Najima spun around with a point of her finger, aiming toward the bulk of the crowd. "You’re somewhere there. Let him through." The parting crowd revealed a short, darkly tanned boy with shaggy hair, maybe ten years celestial. He stepped meekly forward, head downturn, face blushed, with a huge smile on his face having been chosen out of the group. "What did you say?" Najima melodramatically questioned.

  Stuttering with shy giggles, he repied, "P-pizza. W-with white and cheddar cheese, shepherd tomatoes and basil. It's in the inn."

  "Pizza!" Najima cried, racing to the child, raising him off the ground with a spin, before setting him down, much to the others elation. "You are one of my own heart. An exquisite choice, good saar!" Many of the others clapped as Najima announced that all who could afford a meal should join her, and a