Print This Post
Earth: 20th Century
When Tommy Mullady was three years old, he was admitted to hospital to be treated for rare digestive problems. Scared and lonely, feeling abandoned by his parents, he threw violent tantrums, screaming, punching, and kicking. He was a pain in the backside. A thirteen-year-old girl, recovering from tuberculosis, befriended him. Unable to pronounce her name, he called her Morwy. She was his guardian and he clung to her.
He fought the long-suffering nurses attempting to bathe him unless Morwy was allowed into the bathroom to calm him. Elderly Nurse Perrin said, ‘It’s ridiculous. She’s only a child herself.”
Student Nurse Roberts said, “I don’t care how young she is as long as she can persuade the little brute to stop kicking me in the stomach while I’m buttoning his pyjamas.”
Tommy said, “Am I your boy, Morwy?”
The girl said, “Yes, but you won’t be for long if you don’t behave yourself.”
She told him stories, taught him songs, and when he was restless at night, she sat at his bedside holding his hand until he fell asleep.
After she was discharged from hospital Tommy never saw her again, but he held her in his heart, and in a multi-verse of parallel realities, all things that are possible can happen.
* * *
New Earth: 30th Century
Tommy Mullady was descended from the space travelling refugees who’d fled their dying planet, Old Earth, in the Helios solar system. They’d settled on a planet they named New Earth, in the Trappist solar system. Tommy was a starship pilot, but as people had lost interest in space travel, he spent most of his working day delivering supplies and specimens to and from the scientific exploration base on New Earth’s moon. Life was peaceful, but he didn’t want peaceful. He wanted adventure, excitement, and danger. He didn’t heed the Old Earth adage: “Be careful what you wish for.”
His chance came the day the space station manager, Devindra, called him on their communication link, “I have an errand of mercy for you, Tommy. Stop daydreaming and get your butt in here.”
Interesting. He bounded into Devindra’s office “What’s up, Dev?”
“Ship coming in from Thorin, that dog-eared dwarf planet with two moons. A crowd of beef-witted humans settled there fifty years ago. I’ve had a message from the ship’s brain. They’ve got a Red Fever epidemic and no vaccine. The doctor’s coming to collect it.” He handed Tommy an authorisation document. “Sprint over to the Health Centre for it. They know you’re on your way. You’re taking it to Thorin with her. She’ll explain why.”
Tommy collected the cold box vaccine container and delivered it to Dev, who introduced him to an elderly woman, elegant but gaunt, with grey hair braided around her head. Anxiety showed in her intelligent, tired eyes. “Tommy, this is Doctor Lily Baginsky.”
She said, “Greetings, Tommy. Call me Lily.”
“Greetings, Lily. Why do you need me to accompany you back to Thorin?”
“Many of the settlers have died. Most of those still alive are infected and will die before I have time to inject them all. Dev tells me you’ve had medical training that’s given to pilots in case of emergencies. Will you help me?”
Tommy’s brain spun into metaphorical warp drive. This was an opportunity for adventure, exploring the strange little world. “Count me in.” He turned to Dev. “If I promise not to annoy the neighbours, can I stay there?”
Dev said, “It’s up to you, Tommy. If Lily agrees, I won’t stand in your way, but I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Lily said, “It’s a deal. If the neighbours annoy you, our starship is at your disposal to return here. It was already ancient when it brought the first settlers fifty years ago but the old girl’s still fully functional, unlike me.”
They stored the cold box in the ship’s safety container. Dev shook hands with them and said to Tommy, “You stay safe, lad.”
Staying safe was the last thing on Tommy’s mind, but he said, “No problem. I have a doctor with me.”
He flew them above New Earth’s orbit, fed Thorin’s co-ordinates into the ship’s brain, and activated warp drive. The robotic voice informed them that anticipated arrival was in two hours’ time.
He questioned Lily. “Tell me about Thorin. Is there a sentient indigenous race?”
“Yes, the Morwy. Their bodies are clouds of mineral dust, probably the mineral that constitutes the planet’s core. They’re benign, if somewhat sarcastic, and have been known to offer help to travellers in difficulty. Otherwise they stay away from humans.”
“So they’re not close neighbours?”
“No. The centre of their community is a structure that looks like a tree made of mist. It’s close to the central mountain range. Our settlement is on the coast.”
Tommy liked the sound of Thorin. “What about animal species?”
“The most common are Canis lupi, a smaller version of Old Earth wolves, nocturnal and carnivorous, but not brave. They feed on anything that’s dead, but if you’re up and moving, they won’t chance it.”
“Good to know. I’ve seen films of Old Earth wolves and I wouldn’t want to meet one on a dark night no matter how small it was.”
“Word of warning, Tommy: Don’t fall asleep outdoors. They won’t take your pulse before they eat you.”
The robotic voice alerted them when they entered Thorin’s orbit. On encountering the planet’s atmosphere, a violent electric storm engulfed them. The ship lurched and rolled. Tommy called to Lily to strap herself into a chair, but he was too late. She was thrown across the flight deck. The communication screen blacked out and the zigzag on the ship’s brain activity chart flatlined.
He switched to manual control. “Prepare for a bumpy landing, Lily.” She didn’t respond. He looked around. She was lying motionless, her grey braids matted in blood. Cold sweat trickled between his shoulder blades. Stay calm, Tommy. One thing at a time; Get this relic onto solid ground.
It wasn’t the tidiest landing ever, but he managed to do no more damage to the crippled ship. He fetched the medical supplies, knelt at Lily’s side, and dressed her head wound, which was still bleeding. She was barely conscious, but she whispered, “Leave me. Take the vaccine to everyone who’s alive. Go now.”
The ground was littered with fleshless, gnawed bones. The doors of every building were open. Why was that? He searched them all. The beasts had feasted. Nobody had survived. He’d seen enough of Thorin.
Fighting back tears, he returned to Lily. She looked at his face and said, “They’re all dead, right?”
He nodded. “The doors were open. The stinking beasts had eaten everyone.”
Her breath was laboured. “The people would have opened the doors when they knew they were dying so their bodies wouldn’t be left to rot.”
“They preferred to be eaten?”
“Yes. Don’t be angry with the beasts, Tommy. They’re just obeying their nature. I’m dying. They’ll eat me too.”
“I won’t let them.”
She sighed. “Why not? I won’t be objecting.”
He shook his head. “You can’t die and leave me alone with a brain-dead starship.”
She squeezed his hand. “You won’t be alone. Find the Morwy.”
“How do I do that?”
“You need to travel east, towards the mountains. The Morwy’s tree is on the plain that leads to the foothills. Use the night sky to guide you.”
“Can the Morwy help me to get home?”
“I don’t know, but you won’t be alone.”
She died in his arms. Rather than leave her for the beasts, he burned her body, scattered her ashes to the wind, and then he prepared for his journey. He found a backpack in the deserted living accommodation and filled it with a blanket, water bottles, and dried protein strips from the starship’s emergency supplies. They tasted like fried faeces, but they’d keep him alive. When night fell and the moons rose, he headed east.
He slept during the day, his blanket protecting his skin from the scorching sun. At night, following the guidance of the stars and twin moons, he walked, avoiding the beasts that emerged from the woodland. He lost track of time. Every muscle in his body ached. He ignored his pain and exhaustion. He must reach the tree. The Morwy must help him to return home. He remembered New Earth’s cooling rivers; waving corn; pink and gold sunsets; home-brewed ale that could sweeten even a protein strip; and laughing, bright-eyed girls. The memories drove him on towards the Morwy. He didn’t care how sarcastic they were.
During a long night’s trek he reached the plain on which, according to Lily, the tree stood. In the approaching dawn he saw a strange shape standing before the foothills on the horizon. It resembled a figure with many outstretched silvery arms or tentacles glistening in the rising sun. Keeping it in his sight, he fought his need for sleep, continuing instead across the plain, throughout the day. The sun was sinking when exhaustion overcame him. He stopped to rest. Despite his fear of the nocturnal beasts, he couldn’t stay awake and was still sleeping when night fell.
The agony of fangs sinking into his calf awakened him. He screamed and the predator fled. Blood was oozing through the punctured flesh. He tore a sleeve off his shirt, wrapped it around his leg, gritted his teeth, and limped onwards until he reached the tree. The translucent form sparkled like diamond dust. The trunk was split into seven, each bearing branches laden with shifting shapes that might have been foliage or something sentient. He fell to his knees, crying. “Help me.”
A wisp of cloud detached itself from one of the branches and drifted towards him. It draped what might have been an arm around his shoulders and a female voice said, “I’ll help. What should I call you?”
“I’m Tommy. What shall I call you?”
“Morwy.”
“I’m hurt.”
“Show me the wound.” He rolled up his breeches. She returned to the tree, detached a shred, possibly a leaf, and brought it to him. “Remove that piece of cloth, please.” He unwound the bloodied shirt sleeve. She replaced it with the leaf. It clung to his flesh. “It’ll heal. You may have a scar, but it won’t bother you unless you’re vain about the appearance of your leg.”
“I’m not vain. Thank you, Morwy.”
“You’re welcome. Rest now, I’ll guard you from the beasts.”
With relief, Tommy felt himself slipping into deep sleep.
When he awoke she was hovering beside him. She said, “Now you must eat.” A selection of nuts, berries, and edible fungi dropped from whatever functioned as her hands.
“Thank you,” he said. “May I ask a question?”
“Of course. Humans usually do.”
“Are you female?”
She laughed. “Ah, the inevitable gender qualification. I’ve studied your species. The complications of this tricky business appear to give you much aggravation. None of your categories apply to me.”
“But you sound female.”
“That’s because when a human is in need of help, they prefer to ask someone within the gender qualification category from which they feel most comfortable in accepting it. If you preferred me to belong to a different category I’d sound as if I did.”
“And you think humans are complicated?”
“Shut up and eat.”
He shut up and ate. He then told her everything that had happened since Dev introduced him to Lily.
“She said, “My condolences on the loss of your friend. How may I help you?”
“I want to get off Thorin and go home.”
“It amuses me that you call my planet Thorin, the name of a dwarf in your ancestors’ fiction.”
“What do you call it?”
“Home.”
“Then you understand how I feel.”
“Yes, Tommy. I understand. You must repair your starship’s brain.”
“I can’t. Robotics and artificial intelligence are as much a mystery to me as you are.”
She laughed. “I told you I’ve studied humans. Your science is simple. I lack the manual dexterity to do the repair, but I can tell you how to do it if you can listen.”
“I can do that.”
“Then we have a plan.”
“Please tell me I don’t have to limp all the way back to the settlement.”
“You don’t. Spend today resting, regaining your strength. Tonight I’ll carry you to the settlement. When the moons rise, so will we.”
Darkness fell and the moons rose. She wrapped her body around him and lifted him into the night sky. He flew, carried by a sentient cloud, across the faces of the twin moons. This was the adventure for which he’d longed.
They arrived at the settlement and drifted to the ground. She glanced at the scattered bones. “This planet shouldn’t be inhabited by humans. You must go home. Let us begin.”
He wasn’t sure if it took weeks or months. He obeyed her every word. His fingers were sore with re-attaching bits to other bits, reconnecting he knew not what or why. His eyes blurred, feeding in data that was incomprehensible to him, but determination overcame his bodily protests.
Finally, the communication screen flickered into life and the flatline danced a zigzag. The brain said, “All systems functioning.” It spoke in Morwy’s voice.
Tommy turned to her. “Why does it sound like you?”
“Call it a gift. When you’re ready, this ship will take you on many adventures.”
“Thank you. I’ll call her Starship Morwy.”
“I’m honoured. I’ll stay with you until you leave Thorin’s orbit, to be sure all is well. Then we must part. I’ll cease to exist beyond that point.”
“No, you mustn’t sacrifice yourself in taking care of me.”
“It’s my choice, Tommy, not yours. Now take us up.”
He’d become accustomed to obeying her, so he did, but before activating warp drive for New Earth he said, “I can’t believe you’ll no longer exist.”
She said, “In the multi-verse there are endless parallel realities. I’ll still exist somewhere else, as will you.”
“So will we meet again?’
“All things that are possible will happen. Until then, farewell and safe journey home.”
* * *
Earth: 21st Century
A woman who writes stories searched her past for inspiration. She found it in her memory of Tommy Mullady, the frightened child she’d befriended in hospital when she was thirteen. She remembered walking through the hospital grounds on a winter’s day with Tommy trotting beside her, holding her hand. They reached the ancient tree the nurses called the Seven Sisters because the trunk had split seven separate ways. Snow and icicles clung to the branches, transforming it into a magical, many-limbed, alien being. The little boy stared at it, wonder tinged with fear in his eyes. He clung to her hand.
After she left hospital she never saw Tommy again, but she held him in her heart, and in the land of story all things that are possible or impossible can happen.
==========
AUTHOR BIO:
Maureen Bowden is a Liverpudlian, living with her musician husband in North Wales. She has had 226 stories and poems accepted by paying markets including Third Flatiron, Water Dragon Publishing, The First Line and many others. She was nominated for the 2015 international Pushcart Prize and in 2019 Hiraeth Books published an anthology of her stories, Whispers of Magic. She also writes song lyrics, mostly comic political satire, set to traditional melodies. Her husband has performed them in folk music clubs throughout the UK. She loves her family and friends, rock ‘n’ roll, Shakespeare, and cats.
==========
WHY WE CHOSE TO PUBLISH “Guardian”:
Maureen Bowden’s unusual story “Guardian” caught our attention for being one of those “a story within a story” pieces. But it goes well beyond that. It’s a delightful and emotionally resonant piece with not one but two unexpected endings, one for each of the stories being told in it. That’s not an easy thing to pull off. It’s a masterful stroke of storytelling that deserved a place in our magazine.