Starship Fall by Eric Brown

out of here.”
    He paused then and looked back at the long-house, at the tall figure of the Ashentay priest, who appeared to be staring down at us. I thought, for a second, that Hawk intended to approach the priest, or at least say something to him, but if so the moment passed and he turned and joined us.
    We left the sacred cavern and climbed the tunnel to the surface of the planet. Sunlight dazzled us as we emerged behind the curtain of the waterfall and crossed to our encampment. We stowed our belongings, shouldered our packs, and began the long walk through the jungle to where we had left the bison.
    Qah led the way, followed by Hawk and Kee who walked hand in hand through the undergrowth.
    We reached the bison towards midday, and Matt volunteered to drive. He turned the bison from the felled trunks and manoeuvred it in the direction of the alien village. We set off, the vehicle rocking.
    After a period of silence, Hawk said, “You don’t know what torture you put me through, girl.”
    It was a few seconds before Kee replied. “It had to be done. It was ritual, the way my people do things. If we do not have ritual, then what do we have?”
    We did not respond; it was one of those impossible, alien statements to which there are no correct answers.
    Hawk asked, “But was it worth it? I mean, was it worth the risk to your life?”
    Again Kee was contemplative, before saying, “Risk? What is risk? I knew what I was doing. If I died, then that would have been my destiny. It would have been a fact that had to be accepted, the way of things.” I had heard her say this before, and thought it almost Buddhistic. The way of things...
    “And did you see the future?” Hawk asked at last. I felt that he was straining to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
    “I beheld many images,” Kee replied quietly.
    “But specifically?” Hawk asked, obviously frustrated.
    “Specifically?” she returned.
    “I mean, did you see... me and you, how things might go between us?”
    She inclined her head. “Me and you. Yes. I saw the future, me and you.” She paused, then went on, in a whisper, “We were together until the very end.”
    I looked at Hawk; he had his mouth open to ask the obvious question, but decided otherwise. Perhaps now, in company, was not the right time.
    We came to the Ashentay village, and here Hawk and Kee elected to return together in the bison, while Maddie, Matt and I drove back in Matt’s ground-effect vehicle.
    “Well,” Maddie said as we were under way, “I suppose you’d call that a happy ending.”
    “Christ, but I thought she was dead,” I said.
    “Me too,” Matt agreed. “God knows how Hawk would have coped.”
    I thought about the ritual. “I wonder what it must be like, to be granted visions of supposed future happenings? I mean, what must reality be like for a people who believe this?”
    Matt said, “They’re alien, David. We’ll probably have no idea how they perceive reality.”
    Maddie said, “How do our fellow human’s perceive reality, Matt? That’s a hard enough question to answer, without trying to fathom the psychology of aliens.”
    We arrived in Magenta Bay towards late afternoon and parked before the Jackeral to say our goodbyes: Hawk and Kee were heading off down the coast.
    As we were about to go our separate ways, Kee left Hawk’s side and embraced first Matt, then Maddie, and then me. She raised herself on her toes and, hugging me, whispered in my ear, “David, I must see you. I must tell you something, okay? I will be in touch.”
    She withdrew, and the look in her eyes counselled me to remain silent. I merely smiled like an idiot and watched them drive off.
    I said goodbye to Matt and Maddie and made my way home, lost in thought.

The following evening I met Matt and Maddie in the Jackeral.
    It was late; we’d finished our meals and were enjoying a drink on the verandah. Hawk, not surprisingly, had called Maddie and explained that he wouldn’t be joining us tonight: