Unwanted
a short sci-fi story
The planet was looking like thousands of other planets, nothing special. A giant sphere smeared with a mixture of green and blue, with spots of brown and yellow, shaggy from the clouds that shrouded it. But fate sometimes makes you see beauty where someone else’s bored eye wouldn’t even find something to latch on to.
“Is this going to be our new home, Dad?” Teina asked, peering out from behind the worn and torn pilot’s seat. Her green eyes glittered on an unwashed face, as she stared at the image on the screen. “Are we going to live here now?”
Samal sighed as discreetly as possible so his daughter wouldn’t notice. Teina became very sensitive to his mood swings during their long wanderings through the galaxy, and he didn’t want to upset her now that she thought there was a glimmer of hope.
“It could be, honey,” he said. “Looks good, doesn’t it? But first, we have to make sure it’s right for us.”
“It’s right; I know it! Look how nice it is!”
Samal turned and patted his daughter’s cheek.
“All right. Daddy has to do some work now. And one grubby little devil needs to go to the ion shower right away. We don’t want to be seen as dirty hobos, do we?!
“I don’t want to go in the ion!” Teina shook her head. “It stings, and then I get all itchy.”
“You’ll itch even more if you stay dirty,” Samal said. “Did you check everything I asked you to?”
“Yes,” the girl said. “I had to replace two synchronizers on the fourth control unit. I took them to the workshop; they’re on your desk. There was dust everywhere. Yuck!”
“Well done!” Samal said, trying hard not to let his true feelings come out. “What would I do without you, my little savior!”
“You’d finally buy a repair droid that fits in the service tunnels,” the girl said. “Dad, let’s stay here! Then I won’t have to climb in this dust anymore. Dad, please!”
“Sure, honey,” Samal said. He could hardly contain himself anymore. “It’s a great idea. Now, go to the shower. We want to make a good impression on people, do we? Off you go, young lady!”
Teina pecked him on the cheek and walked away.
After she left, Samal sat silently for several minutes, staring blindly into space and clenching his fists.
******
The customs station requested a communications session three hours after they had emerged from the jump. Samal looked longingly at the blinking red long-range comm signal. He didn’t feel like answering, but he knew he had no choice. Even a fast warship couldn’t get past the network of automated border satellites, and he had nothing but an old, rusty freighter.
It’s a good thing Teina had already gone to bed, a bitter thought came. He shook his head. Good... Wow. He came to be glad that his daughter, exhausted by hard work, was sleeping in her cramped quarters after a tasteless dinner of concentrates. This was the second year they’ve been roaming the galaxy trying to find shelter—the second year since...
Never mind. Little girls shouldn’t have to live on dirty old ships that belong in a scrapyard. They shouldn’t have to squeeze through cramped service tunnels trying to keep the ship from finally falling apart. They should go to school, live in a clean, bright house in their own spacious room, and play on dew-damp grass under a blue sky. A year and a half ago, he promised himself that Teina would have all of that someday. She wasn’t even eight years old then, and now her ninth birthday was just around the corner.
He couldn’t let her celebrate it in this old rusty tin can.
Samal sighed and pressed the communication key.
*****
The border guard looked at Samal with genuine regret.
“You do realize that nothing depends on me here,” he said. “The decision to issue an entry visa is not mine, but the central immigration processor’s. It contacts the database of the local galactic sector, and based on that, it evaluates the possibility of issuing visas to all those who wish to immigrate or simply visit the planet. I just process the initial request and help with some formalities after the decision is made.”
“I know,” Samal said. “It’s just that we’re so tired...”
The border guard sighed.
“I don’t even know the reasons why the processor denies a visa. It’s a common practice: no planet is obliged to report the reasons for such decisions. I can, of course, make a special request. It may be possible to get a detailed explanation. Although, of course, there are no guarantees. Besides, it would take at least a week since this is a non-standard situation. Those who get denied a visa rarely ask for an explanation. My guess they usually know the reasons. Not in your case, obviously, but in theory, you can put up an appeal. Try to challenge the processor’s decision.”
“No need,” Samal answered quickly, immediately afraid he was being too rash. But the border guard didn’t seem to notice anything. “I don’t insist. I understand. All planets and orbitals have tightened their immigration policies now.”
The border guard shook his head.
“I’d really like to help you. Believe me. But without a valid visa, there’s nothing I can do.”
Samal felt a black wave of despair rise from somewhere in the depths of his heart, flooding the surrounding universe.
“I’m not asking you to cheat the processor or forge the visa. Especially since it’s impossible,” he said. “But we need at least two weeks to do some repairs on the ship. I understand that landing on a planet is out of the question, but any old service station will do. Even without personnel. We really need at least a little respite.” He stared at the screen, from which a border guard in a light blue uniform was looking at him. “My daughter is very tired... She’s just about to turn nine. Please.”
A shadow flashed across the border guard’s face. He looked about thirty or thirty-five years old. Samal thought he might have had a daughter the same age as Teina.
“All right,” the border guard finally said. “Mind you, I’m taking a big risk, although strictly speaking, it’s not a violation of the rules. Anyway, I can let you into the service station in the second quarantine zone. Just keep in mind that the station is very close to the orbital defense grid. So be careful. If anything happens, I’m in trouble, but for you, it’ll be fatal.”
“Thank you!” Samal said. “You don’t realize how much this means to us...”
“Leave it,” the border guard said. “We’re all human beings. I just imagined myself in your place with my girls. I have two of them,” he said. They’re six and eleven years old.”
“Give them our congratulations,” Samal said. “They have a wonderful father.”
He tried his best to remain calm.
Would it finally work this time?
Guiding the ship on the bearing given by the border guard, Samal had already begun typing the necessary commands on the terminal.
He knew that Teina would eventually understand and forgive him.
******
The President of the Planetary Council finished reading the message he had just received from the Sector Quarantine Service and looked at the head of the Immigration Department standing before him.
“We’re finished,” the President said. “We’ve just been notified that our planet has been blacklisted. You can call off the evacuation; no one will take us in anyway. Unless somewhere there’s a naive simpleton like that hearty officer of yours.”
“We are ninety percent sure that we destroyed all the pods before they entered the atmosphere,” the department head said. “Unfortunately, the host ship did manage to briefly block the surveillance systems and divert the attention of the interceptor satellites. But the assault team that examined the wreckage of the ship confirmed that there were only two people on it, a father and a girl. We’ve already disintegrated the father’s body. Even if some pod got past the interceptors, the chances that the girl was in it are negligible. Besides, it’s not our fault they were able to fake the data about the home planet. The warning from the sector’s main database came when it was too late.”
“You really don’t understand, do you?” The President asked. “All of this is irrelevant now. After the Second Wave, the quarantine service tightened the rules. Whether any of us survive or not, we will never be allowed to enter any inhabited worlds again. We’re blacklisted FOREVER, do you realize that, you idiot?!!”
“But there aren’t any reported cases of infection yet...” the head of the Immigration Department said, confused. “We could have evacuated a lot of people, if not everyone! Or simply found the girl!”
The President closed his eyes.
“The Quarantine Strike Fleet will be in orbit in a few hours. After that, the blockade will slam shut. If anyone wants to repeat the fate of those two poor souls, they can use the window until the fleet arrives. That’s everyone’s personal decision, which I won’t interfere with. As for me, I’m going to spend the next few days with my family. You know the survival rates as well as I do.”
The President stood up and walked out of the office, leaving the other man with his jaw hanging.
*****
The tiny insect, covered in delicate iridescent fuzz, spread its long transparent wings and buzzed away. Teina leaned closer to the bush, looking at the bright orange flowers that reminded her of the ones her mother used to grow in their garden.
The memory of her mom stung, as it always did. But it had been so long, and Teina was used to it. It was much harder to think about Daddy, but Teina knew he had done the right thing, and now she couldn’t let him down.
She straightened and looked up, where giant spaceships hid far beyond the blue skies dotted with sparse white clouds. The ships were invisible during the day, but at night, they gave themselves away with many flickering, moving lights as if the stars were playing catch-up. Teina had seen that flicker once before and knew what it meant.
Things would get better soon.
She adjusted her backpack and strode through the forest, not giving too much thought to where she was going. It had been a very long time since she felt so light and free. The image of her mother, usually coupled with deep sadness and the strange words “patient zero,” was now glowing in her mind, flooding her with a warmth and tenderness, and illuminating Teina’s future from within.
A bright, happy future on a new planet.