
art by Ron Sanders
Chapter One
by Will Kaufman
***Editor's Note: Adult language in the story that follows***
Chapter One
What is the point of starting a story you know you won't have time to finish?
Because there's nothing else to do, Ranna.
We could not tell her the war had found us, though not exactly in the way she feared. The URIP warship Star of the Stars crossed our path near a field of luminescent gas that was probably the energized remnants of some battle. The ship, bent and folded in ways that made our eyes twitch when we tried to examine its shape, ordered us to a stop and commandeered the bulk of our fuel, as well as a bottle of very nice wine my father had intended to gift to his client on Herman's Marsh.
The wine was expensive, but my father stopped griping about its loss as soon as it became apparent the Star had not left us enough fuel for the jump to our destination. Then he realized we didn't have enough fuel to return home, either.
My brother closed his eyes and I watched his fingers twitch. He was imagining picking dropberries, pinching the stems and letting them fall into his palm, the warm juice trickling down his arms, the sky greening at his back, our mother calling him home.
And then. And then nothing happened. Shit.
So she had two bunk beds to herself, and her father even allowed her to bring two hundred and fifty grams of personal effects with her. On this trip she had lipstick and a summer dress. And everyone is riveted by Ranna's lipstick.
Nice, Ranna. Way to meditate on the beauty of existence.
And the time Izak put his finger on the dimple at the base of my neck while we watched the sunset and asked if he could kiss me, and the time I dreamed the sun came down and whispered to me. Dreams, Ranna? No one cares about dreams, or about Izak who you said no to anyway. And every moment has a halo? "And the time my baby brother took a shit in my favorite pair of shoes and brought the left shoe to me." Yeah, the wonder of existence.
"Yer ship is ours now," growled the pirate captain. Then he saw his opposition: a man and a boy cowering behind a young woman who scowled right back into his scarred face. "Har, har," he laughed. "Children and cowards, our easiest take yet!"
"Not so fast," said the woman, who was really more youthful than young, and very beautiful. "You'll take our ship over my dead body, scum."
"That can be arranged," said the pirate captain, lifting his gun to aim at her heart.
She scoffed at him, "You'd shoot a woman? Why not face me like a man, in hand-to-hand combat."
The pirate captain grinned. "Very well, girlie. That can be arranged," and he handed his gun to his grizzled first-mate.
What the pirate didn't know is that he was facing Ranna Holdweight, who had been carrying cargo for her father since she could walk, and she was made of wiry muscle, and besides being very strong, was very brave, and very cunning.
And Ranna beats up a grown man, steals his ship, and she and her family travel the universe as helpful pirates, having adventures and saving people. Maybe they sing happy songs together while they do it. Sure.
What about all those people who were off-planet when it happened? Some of them probably tried to go home. Some of them probably sat in orbit over scorched graveyards wreathed with black smoke wondering if they should land and cook in the radiation or just throw themselves out the airlock. Some of them probably went on and had normal lives.
Maybe Ranna's mother can move on after her family dies in space and have new kids to lie to. Shit. Mom, I hope you find some way to be happy.
She was waiting for him when he stepped through the airlock, her hands on her hips. "What the hell do you think you're doing," she said.
Lieutenant Izak meant to ask her who she thought she was, talking to a URIP officer in that tone of voice, and that under URIP law he was perfectly within his rights to commandeer whatever supplies he damn well pleased from her ship. Instead he barely managed to stutter, "Uh, my job."
"And a fine job it is, stealing fuel you don't need from a family-run trading ship," said Ranna.
Even though she was scowling at him, Lieutenant Izak thought he'd like to spend eternity staring into her eyes, which were green as a Vernian summer sunset.
So they fell in love and he defied his captain, or took her with him, or something. And he takes her in his arms like he needs her, and he's not a fumbling boy whose upper lip sweats when he's nervous, and they have lots of sex that's obviously not made up by a virgin.
Damn, damn, damn damn damn damn damn damn damn
I never wished he would die. He climbed a dropberry tree and threw berries at me and stained my new tunic, and he laughed until he realized he couldn't climb down. He said, "Ranna, please, come on, I'm scared."
And I did not say, "Good. I hope you fall and break your neck. I wish you were dead." I swear I never said that.
"Wake up," she said, and nudged him with her toe.
The prince groaned and rolled over. The young woman thought about just leaving him there, but he'd started to snore and the noise was ruining her delightful morning. So she poked him again. He woke up, and when his eyes focused on the young woman, he smiled.
"I'm hungry," he said, "You want to get breakfast?"
"I don't date drunks," she said.
"I'm not a drunk," he said, "I just got dumped."
She snorted. "I don't date guys who just got dumped, either."
"Who said anything about dating? I asked about breakfast."
"Not today," she said.
"Okay," he said. "We'll do it tomorrow."
She snorted again and left him there. At least he wasn't snoring anymore.
But the next morning, when she went out to pick dropberries, the prince was waiting for her with a picnic basket full of toast and omelets and juice and coffee.
"How about that breakfast," he said.
"Not today," she said.
And it went on like that for a week, until the day the young woman went to pick dropberries and the prince wasn't there. She realized she was disappointed. But then she heard a puffing behind her, and turned to find the prince running up with his basket.
"Sorry I'm late," he said.
She said, "Let's have breakfast."
The prince smiled so widely the whole time they ate that she blushed every time she looked at him.
The next morning she brought some of her jam for the prince's toast, and when he tasted it he said, "This is amazing, you should sell this."
Eventually they got married, and the prince took over his father's shipping company, and started shipping his wife's jam to planets where it was hard to grow fruit. They had two children, who they loved, and every morning he was not off planet the prince made his wife breakfast.
And then everyone she loved died. And I will never get to have a story like this, or like anything.
She's sorry all she can do is cry and wait and that she's too stupid to save anyone.
And he's not dead. He doesn't have a halo of crystals of frozen blood orbiting the meager gravity of his head.
Ranna Holdweight is telling the truth. She will have all the time in the world to finish her story.
The End
This story was first published on Friday, April 25th, 2014
Become a Member!
We hope you're enjoying Chapter One by Will Kaufman.
Please support Daily Science Fiction by becoming a member.
Daily Science Fiction is not accepting memberships or donations at this time.
We hope you're enjoying Chapter One by Will Kaufman.
Please support Daily Science Fiction by becoming a member.
Daily Science Fiction is not accepting memberships or donations at this time.
Rate This Story
Share This Story
Join Mailing list