Diana Kornfeld
Voyager. The Alpha Quadrant. Starfleet. Earth. Tuvok. Neelix. Most of the other names escape me now. Except for, of course, Chakotay, the one who fell from the sky, the one whom I saved and who saved me—and the magic woman—Captain Kathryn Janeway.
So many years have passed. I was just about your age when it happened, Lokita, only seven or eight. Yes, this old woman before you was once a child like you. Don’t laugh, Bellya. I see you giggling behind your fingers. Come here and sit on my lap as I tell you the story. I want you children to know what your grandmother has told no one else except your mothers. I want you to understand my life before I leave it, and I hope you will carry this story with you to share with your own children one day.
Many people have asked me about my life, why I chose the path I did. I tell them many things, but I never tell them the truth. I know that if I did, they wouldn’t understand. They would smile behind their hands like you did, Bellya, and they would think I was a crazy old woman. To you, I shall tell the truth. I see the light of belief still shining in your eyes. Shining like it did in mine.
I have always loved the stars. Since I was very small I used to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night and sit and watch them, shining there, so peaceful, so serene, but sparkling as if with a special secret that they wished to share with me. They did share that secret with me, one which I will share with you now.
I lay weeping in my bed one night, weeping for the loss of my parents, for the harsh life that I now endured, a small servant girl working for a place to lie down at night and a little bit to eat. I had been taken in by the Monoris, a hard-working family, and I was not mistreated. Not mistreated but not loved either. I was not allowed to go to school, few girl children were, and I was not born into privilege so that I might have the advantage of listening to my brothers’ tutors. I was told I was lucky to have a place, a warm room, almost enough to eat. But you have heard all of this before. Let me tell you how that night changed my life forever, and how I hope it will change yours also.
I could not sleep. I was afraid I would dream again about the day my parents were torn from me, killed savagely by the Komekki. I did not want to see the faces of the soldiers again, faces dead to pity, alive only to hatred, to slaughter. I decided that night to run away and live with the birds in the Ronaken hills. With the simple trust of childhood, I thought I would live on sheelia berries and stream water and moosha grass. I could stay the nights in the Ronaken caverns, and I would have my only friends, the stars, to keep me company in the nights.
So I gathered up my few possessions, took a little food I found from the pantry, and I ran. I was strong and used to running to deliver messages during the days, so I ran and ran. Do you know where the Beelor River meets the west road? Yes, yes, you remember the picnic we went on last summer? That’s how far I ran before I dropped exhausted on the cool night grass. I lay on my back to catch my breath and watch the stars. That’s when I saw it. I thought it was a falling star, the kind we say the blessing after. Have you seen one? And do you know the blessing, Onyas? That’s the one. You say it so nicely.
But this falling star seemed to fall straight into the dark hills, and there was a flash of red light as it disappeared behind the shadows of the peaks. My young bones tingled with curiosity. Had a star really fallen from the sky? What did a fallen star look like? Would it sparkle as it lay upon the moosha grass? Would it give off heat and warm me? Could I put it in my pocket? I ran again, this time in the direction of the flash, which had disappeared as if it had never been. No, I was not afraid. You would have done the same, Onyas, I know you! The dark night held no terrors for a child who had slept with terror. To me the darkness was a comfort, just the wind and the stars and I racing in a dark embrace.
I had been in these hills before, hidden with my mother during the time of the Jen wars. I decided I would look for the fallen star in the valley behind the northern summit of Greyar’s hill, and I would sleep in one of the many caverns nestled beneath her northern slope. It would be my new home.
I found nothing that night, nothing but empty foshu nests, moonlight, and shadows. I curled up in a soft bed of dry grasses just within the entrance to a small cavern and finally slept. If I wept there, I don’t remember it. I dreamt of sleeping with my mother again, wrapped in her arms, smelling her sweetness.
The strange sound awakened me. A moan, a gasp? What kind of creature could make that noise? It sent shivers up my spine and made me wish I hadn’t been quite so hasty in my decision to leave the safety of my servant’s bed. Could it be one of the soldiers they said still lived in these hills, gone mad from the carnage he had witnessed, from the blood he had spilled? Or was it some kind of beast? Perhaps the legendary kokomill who was said to freeze its victims with its stare and devour them slowly while they were still alive. There it was again, but louder now. I must run before this creature sensed my presence.
Silently I rose from my grass bed and glided to the entrance of the cave, but when I reached the early sunlight, which warmed me with courage, something in my curious child’s heart made me stop and peer back into the depths of the cavern. I saw something shiny lying on the ground back in the shadows, catching the sun’s rays and blinking at me as if to say, “Come, child, come and rescue me. I could be treasure, a piece of that falling star you saw last night. Don’t you want to find out, little starseeker?”
Suddenly the moan turned into a cough, and I knew it was no kokomill. Perhaps it was just another runaway like myself who had sought the safety of the shadows. I looked at the silver object again and decided it was worth the risk of creeping back into the cavern.
Cautiously I approached it, taking care not to rustle the grass or disturb the shale. I reached down for the splash of silver when suddenly my hand was grabbed by another. I nearly collapsed in stifling fear when I saw what had grabbed me. Was it a creature or a man? It looked like nothing I had seen in my short life before, and I thought surely that short life would soon be over. For this creature was large, larger than any man I had ever seen, and it was pale with dark fur on only the top of its head. It had strange markings on the side of its forehead, and its eyes were small; at least I supposed they were eyes, for they glowed with the light, and they stared at me like I was a creature, trapped in its grasp. Was this after all the kokomill? For I couldn’t move. Its grip was like a vice, and now its mouth was moving, and more strange sounds circled me like the crackling and hissing from a night fire.
Suddenly the sounds shifted, and I heard words that I recognized. Words coming from a beast? Or was this some strange race of man come down from the higher peaks of the distant Ronori ranges?
“Please, I will not hurt you,” the voice said. “I cannot let you have this device. I’m sorry. Do you understand me?”
Nodding slowly, I stared as the talking creature took the small silver object and fixed it to his dark clothing.
“I’m sorry,” it said again. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I … Well, I was injured on my journey, and needed a place to sleep so I came here. Do you live near here? What is your name?”
This was a man of some kind, I reasoned now. He smiled as he talked and some child instinct told me I need have no fear. I was not wise in those days, but then I don’t think I’m any wiser now.
“I am called Tarina,” I began softly. “I did live in the village, but I have run away to live here in the hills,” I answered him more boldly now and raised my chin for added courage.
“Hello, Tarina,” he began. “My name is Chakotay. You are a brave child to be out here alone. What about your parents? Won’t they worry about you?”
“My parents are dead,” I replied calmly. “And I will no longer slave for the Monori family. But what are you?” Braver now, I sat back on my heels and examined him. “You look like a beast but speak like a man. Are you a star man?”
He laughed. “You get right to the point, don’t you? I know I look strange to you, but I’m … I’m from a tribe of people who live far away from here,” and he motioned to the hills behind us. “I guess I’ve run away like you.” He smiled.
“No, you haven’t,” I contradicted him. “You can’t fool me. You are a star man,” I said confidently, watching his reaction. “I saw you fall from the sky.”
He laughed, but then he looked at me intently. “What did you see, Tarina?”
“I saw the falling star last night. You were on it, weren’t you?”
He looked down for a moment as if gathering his thoughts. “Did anyone else see this falling star?”
“No. I followed it. I wanted to see what a star looked like. At first I thought that thing was a piece of it,” I said, motioning toward the shiny metal he now wore on his chest. “I have heard there are people who live in the stars, but I never thought they would look like you. You are not very pretty to look at.”
He started to laugh but his laugh turned quickly to a wince, and he grabbed his side.
“Star man Chakotay, you are hurt,” I cried. “Do you want me to go and look for help? Are there other star people here with you? Should I go back to the village and get the men?”
“No, thank you, Tarina, but my people,” and now he attempted to smile again, “I have been trying to contact my people. I believe they will find me soon enough.”
I could not understand this. “But how do you contact them? Do you call for them? I could help you call. If we yell loudly enough someone may hear.”
“I don’t contact them that way. But there is something else you could do for me if you don’t mind. There is some food in that bag over there. Could you bring it closer?”
Pleased to be doing something, I ran to the far side of the cavern, grabbed the bag, and deposited it beside him quickly like an aggar cat jumping on a foshu nest.
“Thank you. That was fast. Would you like something to eat?” He offered me a strange mealy looking piece of something that looked like scarfara dough. I was hungry, but this thing smelled like cheela mold. I shook my head.
“I have my own food.” I brought him a piece of gsoola cake and some sheelia berries. “You can have some of this,” I offered.
And so we ate breakfast mostly in silence. Occasionally he would tap the thing on his chest, and listen. Then he would frown.
I began to talk to him again. He was such a curious sight. I said what I thought in those days, a trait I’m afraid I haven’t lost in all these years.
“You are funny-looking, Chakotay.”
He grinned. “I guess I am.”
“You have black fur on your head.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“And some of it is turning white.”
He sighed.
“You have little eyes.” I looked at him closer. “And you have big ears and little wrinkles by your eyes. Are you an old man or a young one?”
Now he was trying not to laugh. It must have hurt him to laugh. “You are very observant, Tarina. I guess I’m somewhere in the middle.”
I nodded wisely. “Like my father was. But he was too young to die. I hope you don’t die.” Suddenly I was frightened. I didn’t know how badly the star man was hurt. I had seen enough death.
“I’m not going to die, don’t worry,” and he paused. “I’m sorry about your parents. I lost mine, too. But I was grown up by then. Is there someone who can take care of you?”
“I think I have an aunt in Rylea. But that is far away, and I don’t know if she is still alive or not. My uncle fought in the war with my father. I think he is still a prisoner.”
“Do you go to school?”
“I would like to go to school more than anything in the four mountains, but I am a servant girl. Most girls don’t go to school anyway. But my mother taught me some things,” I said proudly. “I know more than that silly Loorat, my master’s daughter.”
And so we talked for a long time. He asked me many questions, and I was eager to share my little world with anyone who was interested in me, especially this strange, kind star man.
I brought water from the stream and built a little fire at the entrance to the cavern when the sun started to leave the hills. I helped him walk to the fire and showed him how expert I was in roasting loopa nuts until they crackled open just right.
“Tell me about the stars, Chakotay,” I asked eagerly. “I want to go to the stars and walk on them someday. What are they like? Are you going back to them?”
“I’m going back to my ship,” he answered softly. “I can’t tell you very much, Tarina. I don’t know why you keep saying I’m from the stars. I am from far away from here. I can tell you a little about my ship and my people, I suppose.
“We’re trying to get back to our home. It’s a long journey. Where I’m from we have had troubles much like your people have. But we kept on trying to get along. We struggled. We learned. Things are better now. A long time ago, like you, our little girls weren’t allowed to go to school either. Change comes slowly, but it does come eventually if enough people work for it and sacrifice for it.”
“Tell me about your ship. Are you the captain of your ship?”
He laughed. “No, Captain Janeway is my captain.”
“Are you a slave to your captain?”
He was trying hard to keep from laughing more. “No, not exactly. But I must do as my captain orders and that includes not telling you everything about us.”
I frowned. “This captain must be very strict.”
“Captain Janeway is a brilliant leader and very brave, a little bit like you, in fact.”
“Like me?” You can imagine how I glowed at that compliment. “Have you had any adventures on this ship?” I asked.
“A few,” he said.
He talked of an endless journey, of a band of people who were fiercely loyal to each other, of a captain who guided them with wisdom and courage. But as he talked his voice grew weaker, and lines of pain crossed his face. His eyes burned with the light from the fire, and he didn’t notice when he stopped speaking. I knew the signs too well. He was injured more seriously than I had known. Fever was stealing his spirit, and I feared it would take his life as well.
“Chakotay,” I called as I knelt beside him and shook him by the shoulder. His only answer was a groan as he lay back against the moosha grass.
“You said you would not die,” I cried. “You said your people would come.”
His eyes were dark and vacant now, and I was very afraid. I had lost everyone else. I didn’t want to lose the star man, too.
Suddenly the silver on his chest began to crackle and hiss, and then I opened my eyes wide as I heard words coming from it, scratching their way into the air from no one’s lips! I understood and yet I did not understand them.
“Chakotay,” it said. “Commander Chakotay. Can you hear me? We cannot get a fix on you in your present location. There seems to be something in the hills that is interfering with the transporter. Can you move to a more open location? Repeat. Commander Chakotay, can you hear me? You must move to open ground.”
The voice went on and on as I watched in wonder. I shook Chakotay harder.
“Star man,” I cried. “Wake up. Please wake up. I think your people are here, but I cannot see them. They want you to come out of the cave. Please don’t die. You must get up. Listen to the voices. They say to get up. They say you are not to die. Do you hear me?” I was hitting him now. He must wake up. I could not watch him die, and I could not leave him there alone.
Slowly his eyes began to open, and he looked around him vaguely. “Come on, Chakotay. I will help you out of here. Get up. They are talking to you.”
He shook his head and his eyes refused to focus, but he tried to sit up, struggling against the ground that wished to keep him.
“I will help you find them, Chakotay. That’s it. Sit up. Now stand up. I will help you walk out of here.” Although I was small, I was determined, and I could be fierce when I wanted to be. I pushed him and hit him and begged him to stand up until he finally staggered to his feet.
I took his hand and led him the few feet to the clearing outside the cave. We were under the stars, and I looked to them for help. Where were these invisible people who called to him so urgently? Then suddenly the ground and rocks and stars began to shimmer around me, shimmer into a white light that was there and then was gone before I could close my eyes against it. The world around me disappeared, and I was in another place, a gray and shining place with no stars, but with lights that hurt my eyes and other strange creatures who looked like Chakotay. One of them rushed toward us. I thought it was a woman. She looked very glad to see the star man, and I thought she would embrace him, like my mother used to embrace my father when he returned to her unharmed, with the fierce love born of fear. But she stopped before us and put her hand on his arm.
“Chakotay, you’re injured.”
“I’ll be all right, Kathryn.”
“Get Commander Chakotay to sickbay immediately.”
“There’s really no rush. I’ll be fine.”
People were moving toward us quickly, and I was beginning to panic.
Suddenly the woman he called Kathryn noticed me there, tugging on Chakotay’s hand and half hiding behind him. “Oh my. Who do we have here?”
“Don’t you hurt him,” I cried as she knelt quickly beside me.
“Oh, don’t worry, little one,” she said, and her eyes spoke kindness to me. She looked a question to Chakotay.
“This is Tarina,” he said quietly, holding his side and kneeling beside us. “I think she just saved my life. I must have been unconscious, but she dragged me out of the cave … with her bare hands.”
“Did she?” The woman smiled. “Welcome to Voyager, Tarina. And thank you for bringing our commander back to us.”
I looked at her carefully. “Is this your woman, Chakotay?” I asked.
Chakotay made a choking sound, and the woman laughed. “No, Tarina,” he said. “This is Captain Janeway, the one I told you about.”
My eyes grew wide with surprise. I see you are surprised too, Onyas. But it is true! Yes, the captain was a woman! Imagine my amazement. She was smiling and holding out her hand to me.
“What a lovely name. Tarina. Would you like to help me take Chakotay to our doctor? We’ll get him fixed up a bit, and we can talk there.” I nodded solemnly, and holding both their hands but too lost in wonder to say anything, I walked between them through the strange shining rooms toward the place they called sickbay.
I am afraid I cannot remember everything I heard as we walked along the corridors of this place. Nor can I remember all the strange faces and shapes that passed us, some of them returning my stares with smiles and curious eyes. Chakotay and the captain talked of shuttles and storms and the number seven. They said words that I could connect no meaning to. I remember tables and lights and Chakotay lying on a bed and a man who had very little fur on his head. He frowned at us and patted my head. I wanted to bite him, but I didn’t think the captain would like that. He reminded me of Uncle Golo, talking and talking while he moved strange objects over Chakotay. Captain Janeway picked me up and set me on one of the beds so that I could see what was happening. I remember another man who smiled and smiled at me. He had fur on his face and spots. He was not quite so funny looking as Chakotay, and he was very kind.
“Are we inside a star?” I asked him. “Is this what a star looks like inside?”
“Oh no, we’re inside Voyager,” he answered. “We’re not in a star; we travel through …”
“Come, Tarina,” the captain interrupted. “Neelix will fix us something to eat. I imagine you’re hungry after such an adventure. We’ll let Chakotay get some rest while we talk.”
They fixed me strange food that I had never tasted before, and I ate very little.
“I know what you might like,” said the captain. “Let me get you a treat.” And she went over to the wall and spoke to it as if it were a living thing.
“Ice cream with chocolate sauce.”
Instantly there appeared a bowl which held a white substance covered with a brown liquid.
“You are a magic woman!” I cried.
She laughed. “I assure you I’m not. But try this. It has a magical taste. I think you’ll like it.”
I tasted the creamy white and sweet dark and thought to myself that this was indeed a magic woman. It was like nothing I had ever tasted before or have tasted since.
“You must know magic to be a star woman,” I told her. “Chakotay said you would not let him tell me about you and your people, so your magic must be a secret. How else could you fly among the stars and talk while you are invisible and make food out of the air?”
“I suppose it is a kind of magic,” she confessed. “But it’s a special kind of magic, one that comes from knowledge, from study, from science. We’ve learned how to do these things after years and years, generations and generations. Each life adding to the knowledge of those who went before. When I was a young girl like you, just starting to learn about the world, everything seemed like magic to me, too.”
“I want to learn,” I told her. “Teach me about the stars. That is what I want to know above all things. They are so pretty, and they look happy all the time.”
She looked at me sadly I thought. “I wish I could teach you everything you want to know, Tarina,” she said softly. “But you’re tired. Enough talk for one night. Let’s get you to bed.”
Other scenes come back to me as that one fades. I remember waking on a soft, clean bed and rising to go to a window that looked out on nothing but the night sky and a vast field of stars. I remember returning to the sickbay to get Chakotay and frowning at the doctor who tried to wave an object over me. I remember laughing at Neelix when he made a face behind the doctor’s head. But more than anything I remember the music of Voyager, the sound it made, a soft, echoing hum, that I could feel throughout my body. I knew I was on a ship far out among the stars even though no one would really admit to me where we were. In those days I knew nothing of planets, other suns, other worlds. I just knew these people were from another place, another time. But in spite of the utter strangeness around me, I felt at home.
So it was with a shock that made my heart skip that I overheard a conversation between Captain Janeway and Chakotay on the evening of the second day.
“We have obtained what we came here for. B’Elanna says the warp drive is back on line, and we have enough surplus to last for several months. I can’t justify staying much longer, Chakotay. We need to move on, and besides, we risk the possibility of detection. These people are not exactly primitive. They have some rather sophisticated engineering. We don’t really know who might be observing the skies, recording data. I don’t want to start some panic.”
“We’ve been scanning for only twenty-four hours. I don’t think it will take much longer. I just don’t want to leave her alone back there where I found her.”
“I don’t either. I want to find them as much as you do, but we can’t work miracles. We can’t take her with us. We shouldn’t even have her with us now. I just hope this whole experience won’t adversely affect her.”
“She’s very young. I don’t see what harm it could do. Of course, no one will believe her tales, but I think she’ll be all right. She’s got a strong spirit.”
“She certainly does, and she’s very bright. I wish we could see how things turn out for her. All right, we’ll keep looking. But only for twelve more hours. If nothing shows up after that, we’ll have to look for an alternative.”
That’s why I hid from them. It wasn’t hard to slip unnoticed down a hallway and through a small door into some kind of tunnel. I thought perhaps they would forget about me there until it was too late to send me back.
It was Captain Janeway who found me. She didn’t say anything at first but just came to sit close beside me. Finally she put her arm around my shoulders and spoke to me softly.
“You overheard what we were saying, didn’t you, Tarina. I’m so sorry if we upset you. But we have to take you back where you belong. This ship is noplace for you to grow up. You need to be among your own people.” Then she was silent again.
“We think we’ve found your aunt and uncle. We thought you might want to go and live with them. Would you like that? Would they welcome you?”
I nodded.
“More magic?” I asked, looking at her now.
She smiled. “Yes, more magic,” she acknowledged.
“I wanted to stay and learn the things you know. I wanted to see for myself what the stars were like. I wanted many things that I shall never have.”
“Don’t say that, Tarina. There’s a world of possibility open to you. You have your whole life ahead of you to dream and learn and love.”
“They will not let me learn things at home. They think girls are for serving, not for knowing.”
“Well, I guess you’ll just have to change their minds about that. The first step in learning things is observation you know, and I think you will be very good at that. Chakotay tells me you are very observant.”
I nodded. “I am,” I said.
Good-bye was difficult to say to these kind strangers who disappeared from my life as suddenly as they had entered it. They did return me to my aunt and my uncle, who had been released from his imprisonment. I pressed my cheek to Captain Janeway’s pale one when I left and told her I never would forget her.
“I will never forget you either, Tarina,” she said. “I know you will see amazing things in your life. Hold on to your dreams. Believe in the possibilities.”
I remember Chakotay transformed to look like one of our people. When I first saw him I burst out laughing. He looked even funnier to me like that. I didn’t bother asking him how he did it. I had become comfortable with their magic by now. He led me as far as the outskirts of the village where he could watch as I approached my uncle’s home. As my aunt swept me into her arms in delight, I twisted to look for him where I had left him in the shade of the borambi tree. There was nothing there but the stars shining through the swaying leaves.
You children know the rest of my story, after I appeared on Uncle Lotas’s doorway that day out of nowhere. I tried to tell them what had happened to me, but they assumed I was weak with hunger and exhaustion and had hallucinated everything. They were filled with joy at my arrival and took me into their small family.
I know you’ve heard this before. I refused to be told I could not learn, and so took a servant’s job at the school where I listened and observed and finally proved that I was capable. I’ve studied the stars all my life, even at the university when few women were allowed. I’ve charted them, examined them, added my small part to our knowledge of them, and yet still they hold such mystery for me.
All right, Onyas, I see you looking out of the corners of your eyes at Belya. Well, the stars were my dream; you must follow your own. But I hope you will remember this tale of the star people, how they came in peace, and how they gave me a legacy that I pass on to you, a legacy of the magic of knowledge, and of hope, and endless possibility.
Would you like for me to show you where I first saw the falling star all those years ago? Yes? Come with me then, out into the courtyard. Watch your step there, Lokita. Now look, children, way over to the horizon. That’s where I saw it, just beyond Mt. Jennerod, there in the heavens, just past the second star to the right.