Hunter quickly poured them some more wine.
“Bingo,” he said.
They toasted again. Calandrx half drained his glass, then said: “You made a wise if surprising choice by joining the Exploratory service. The things I’m sure you’re about to see, out there. I really envy you.”
Hunter took a healthy gulp of his wine as well.
“The truth is, I have my ulterior motives,” he said.
The gleam came back to Calandrx’s eye. “Really? That’s my cup of tea,” he said. “Can you share them?”
Hunter recounted his adventures with each of the Imperial Family, with the most elaboration coming from his time spent with Princess Xara on Mars. Calandrx was alternately amazed and amused by Hunter’s adventures in the past few days.
“My God,” he said. “When I won the damn race all they gave me was a house in the woods! The Empress certainly didn’t flirt with me!”
Calandrx spotted Mars just rising above the horizon.
“And I certainly had not heard of this spacecraft stuck in the ice up there,” he said. “That’s a fascinating bit of history the Specials have managed to keep from the rest of us.”
“This is my plan,” Hunter said. “If I can find out who sent the VLR/VSA scan down to that frozen wreck, I think I’ll be well on my way to finding out who the hell I am.”
Calandrx clinked his wine goblet against Hunter’s.
“Such a noble quest!” he declared. “And one that’s wrapped in your own machinations — as well as those of a beautiful woman. I love it! Is there some way I can help?”
“There certainly is,” Hunter replied. “In fact, I think that’s why you are here.”
Hunter unfurled the ancient map on the table in front of them.
“Does this look at all familiar to you?” he asked Calandrx.
The elderly pilot studied the map closely. After several minutes he began shaking his head.
“Nope,” he said. “Nothing on here looks familiar. Why? Where did you get this?”
“From Xara,” he said. “Along with this…”
He handed Calandrx a copy of the ancient poem.
“She thought you might be able to make sense of it, maybe even translate it,” Hunter told him.
Calandrx refilled his own glass, then began reading the poem, half out loud.
“Well, this is a semifamous piece from the Second Empire poet warrior Xylanx,” he said. “It’s called a ‘war poem.’ They were quite the rage back then. Apparently many of the age’s most prominent warriors wrote about their exploits in verse, as a way of preserving them to an oral tradition that would carry on if and when the Empire collapsed — which it did, of course.”
He read some more. “Loosely translated, the title is: ‘For Those Who Are Searching… or more like,
‘The Search for the Lost Souls.’ It is widely believed to be Xylanx’s retelling of a local legend he came across during a campaign at the other end of the Milky Way.”
“A legend?”
Calandrx nodded. “Xylanx often did that,” he replied. “He would hear a myth popular among people in very isolated parts of the Empire and convert it into verse. Again, as a means of preserving a history of the times.”
Hunter felt his heart sink. What kind of directions could he get from a poem written about something that never happened?
It was as if Calandrx read his mind.
“Now, that doesn’t mean none of this is true,” he said. “On the contrary, all myths have some basis in reality. But they are usually distorted again and again over the ages.”
“Can you tell me what this is about then?”
Calandrx read the entire poem silently. His eyes lit up at several points; at others he seemed on the verge of tears. He finished by wiping his eyes and raising his glass in the air.
“Xylanx was quite a human being,” he said. “Really knew how to turn a phrase…”
“But what is it about exactly?” Hunter pressed him.
Calandrx went back to the first stanza.
“It is about a place — a planet, probably — where thousands of years before, a certain race of people was banished. They were an ancient people apparently — it sounds like they had direct ties to Earth that went all the way back to the First Empire, or even earlier.
“For whatever reason — Xylanx claims jealousy on the part of the Empire was the culprit — these people and others like them were relegated to ‘the place from which few could go beyond.’ They were given their own planet, puffed to their own desires, and left alone. But essentially they were exiled for not seeing things the way everyone else in the Galaxy at that time apparently saw them.”
Calandrx slurped his wine again.
“Over the centuries, these people became master warriors — and very intent on gathering together anyone who might be related to them — their brothers lost among the clutter of the Galaxy. So they set up a beacon, again near this ‘last place.’
It was a kind of signal that would be recognized by all of their kind and would call them back to this new ‘home planet.’ This beacon was called — again, loosely translated—‘a house made of light’ or ‘the lighthouse.’ ”
“And this beacon was located on the last place anyone could go?”
“Either there, or relatively close by,” Calandrx replied. “There is a phrase or two that might indicate that while the location of this ‘house of light’ was not kept secret, the place where these ancient people lived was…”
He located a passage from the third stanza. “ ‘Where does one put a lighthouse but on the most distant part of the most distant shore? But this was a lighthouse that pointed its beam inward. Looking not for lost vessels or scattered ships but lost and scattered souls…”
Hunter sipped his own wine now. Could the beacon in the poem be the VLR/VSA? The same one that seared the ice around the crashed Martian lander?
Calandrx put his finger on a line in the fifth stanza.
“To me, this is the most enigmatic part,” he said. “It’s talking about just who these lost souls might be and how they will know when they’ve finally reached their home. ‘You will meet the people and they will be like you… they will talk like you, they will have your name… and in their eyes you will know them immediately.”
Calandrx paused for a moment, then looked up at Hunter.
“The final line is,” he said, “ ‘Hurry home, for they are expecting you…’ ”
They just stared at each other for a moment.
“Is this what you wanted to hear, my friend?” Calandrx asked him.
Hunter just shook his head. “I’m not really sure…”
They were silent for a while, Calandrx leaving Hunter alone with his thoughts.
Finally Calandrx broke the silence.
“I hear you’re to bring along Erx and Berx along on this adventure as well,” he said. “A wise choice…”
Hunter shrugged, happy to change the subject.
“They needed another ship… plus I think they had to get off Earth before they got into some real trouble.”
Hunter regretted those words instantly. The momentary look of pain that came across the elderly pilot’s face told him he’d struck a nerve. It was clear that Calandrx would have given anything to be able to go with them.
“It’s all right,” Calandrx said, again reading his thoughts. “I am stuck here because it is the wish of my Emperor. Who am I to dispute it? The excitement you’ve provided in your short time on Earth will last with me for years to come — and our winnings will ease the burden a bit farther. I’ve had my adventures. Now it’s time for you to have yours.”
“You sailed the stars for more than a century,” Hunter said to him. “May I ask for your counsel? Do you have any advice you can give me?”