The planet Bovis had only been populated for the last five or six hundred years, and even then it was by mistake. The starship xxx was supposed to be the first to travel between galaxies. This, of course, will have taken hundreds of years. So nobody found it strange when they never returned. It wasn’t until two hundred years later that the crew were discovered shipwrecked on a planet on the galaxy’s outer rim. That planet, of course, was Bovis. It turns out that they hadn’t even made it to the edge of our own galaxy before having to make an emergency landing. And they’d been living off the land ever since with no way of contacting anyone off-planet.

The whole story was flat out hilarious if you ask me. In the end, the crew—or rather, their descendants—were offered a ride off this backwoods planet, back to civilization. And they refused. All I can say is wow! There is stupid. And there’s really really fucking dumb.

The icing on the cake is that the ship was never found. How exactly does one crash land on a planet and lose the ship? Did it carry on towards the next galaxy? Was there mutiny on the ship and only a few stranded? Who knows?

I arrived at the town hall five minutes late. It was a single story rectangular building with shutters painted a gaudy green. It had been yellow when I was last here. I raised my hand to knock, and at the same time the door squeaked open and eight angry faces looked back at me.

The Village Elders were a collection of both men and women of various ages. They made up the large council who oversaw the daily activities in the community and made strategic recommendations when change was required. Then there was the smaller council. They were a part of the larger council but held the added responsibility for decision-making. I walked in without so much as a clue as to which were the decision makers—ultimately, they were Elders I should have been addressing.

I strode past them toward the guest’s chair at the front of the room, trying not to stare at the table laden with food against the side wall. On the table, there were freshly baked breads with bits of rosemary on top, freshly whipped butter, caramelized sweet potatoes, and so on. My stomach betrayed me, groaning as I passed.

At a glance, there wasn’t a friendly face amongst them—some dawned open distain, and others revulsion, at my presence. Most of the faces, I recognized. But some were new to me. The room was silent. Nobody moved. All eyes either fixed on me or the Reverend in the back of the room as if affirming his proclamation of the devil’s return.

Ignorant hicks. I’d like to say I didn’t give them the satisfaction of making me feel uncomfortable, but they did. Between the weight of their penetrating glares and my aching legs, I could barely walk.

I let the awkward moment linger, making a show of living my right leg with my hand and placing it across my left knee. If they were going to gawk at me, I might as well give them a good view of my brace for gossip material.

It was time to get this show started. I fished my paperwork from my satchel and then shoved satchel under my chair.

Unfolding the paper, I began to read. “Request for Assistance, dated 69.03.114.17. Submitted by the Elders of the village, Paradise, on the planet Bovis. This being an independently govern planet, within the Galactic Administration’s (GA’s) wider protectorate.” I glanced up, keen to note if anyone scowled at the mention of the protectorate, and if they did, then I’d make a mental note of who they were. No one did. It was just a part of my training.  

“This Request for Assistance, otherwise known as an RFA, was officially logged by GA, as number 00614399716. On behalf of the GA, my name is Jonas. I’m here to conduct an investigation into claims that—”

“—This is absurd. We don’t have to stand here and listen to this,” an older woman said. Martha was a tall stately looking woman with wrinkles like gills. Her hair, once salt and pepper, was now completely white. And her eyes were puffy and red, balanced somewhere between anger and despair. It was her daughter I was accused of killing. I’d seen her when I came in, but didn’t recognize her until now, and mentally kicked myself for not placing her earlier. “He’s a murderer. He killed my Anne. And I will not stand for him being here!”

Murderer. My testicles shriveled into my scrotum at the work—or maybe it was the mention of Anne. It didn’t know which.

Murmurs rose from around the room but I sat projecting a calm I didn’t feel. I deliberately didn’t look in Martha’s direction. That would have only made things worse.

What really burned my ass is why everyone was so single-minded. Did they think I came here of my own accord? Or by some grand design of mine to lash at them for their baseless accusations. Hell no. I’d have given about anything to spend the day scrubbing galactic dust from the floormats at work. Anything but be here.

The murmuring rose rapidly until old Mr. Goff spoke up. He’d been ancient when I was still young. He spoke with a soft voice, but not one to be confused with naivety or inexperience.

“Thank you for coming, Jonas,” he said, surprising me with his polite tone. “I think it’s fair to say that everyone here knows you. But, I’m sure you can appreciate that no one here expected to see you as the GA’s representative.”

That’s got to be the understatement of the millennium.

“Fair enough. I just found out myself yesterday,” I said. This was my subtle way of saying, ‘you can bet your ass coming here wasn’t my idea’.

Mr. Goff may have been a backwoods hick, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew what I was saying. Similarly, I could see he was cooking something inside his noodle, by the way, he worked his jaw from side to side. That, or maybe he was just hungry like me.

 “Then you wouldn’t mind allowing us few minutes to discuss this new… development.”

Wonders never ceased. The request wasn’t only politely, it was also reasonable. I didn’t see that coming. But sure, why the hell not. I was about to say as much when the door opened to my left.

The Elders standing closes to the door shuffled to the side, making way for the late arrival. And when the final Elder walked in, my smile pulled into a wide goofy grin, which I was incapable of hiding.

Mary had grown a foot since I’d last seen her and with a bit of girth too—not fat, just womanly. She’d pulled her unruly blonde locks into a haphazard bun that most women wouldn’t have been caught dead in. All this with her unstoppable, unflappable smile. She carried herself with an equal balance of carefree fun and simply amazing.

“Sorry, I’m late,” she said, addressing no one in particular. “I had a few last minute… Oh. Jonas.”

My efforts to mask my grin failed utterly when she looked at me and blushed. I opened my mouth to respond, but whatever foolish words I was preparing were mercifully batted away my Martha.

“He’s an instrument of the devil and we all know it,” she said and looked to the Reverend for confirmation. Though I was still staring stupidly at Mary, I vaguely perceived the absence of the Reverend’s confirmation.

To Mary, I raised one eyebrow and shrugged. It conveyed everything and nothing—my helplessness in this situation and my stubborn inability to avoid trouble. And Mary grinned back. I had no doubt she understood every one of my unspoken words. I had no idea how much I’d missed her.

Within moments, the council erupted, wisdom and wife’s tales dictated like divine gospel amongst the congregation. For my part, I kept my mouth shut. This had to play out on its own, and hopefully soon.

“Quiet!” A voice booked over all the rest. It carried so much power and nearly startled me out of my chair. And then doubly so when I realized the voice had come from meek Mr. Goff.

The noise in the room fluttered to a whisper and then silenced altogether. Impressive.

“I consider that members of the Large Council have made their positions clear on the matter,” he said. “Now the Small Council will make a decision based on these recommendations.”

Before my exile, I’d not been privy to Council Meetings. But I wouldn’t have imagined them to be like this. That aside, I was about to find out which members made up the Small Council.

“As for myself, I vote that Jonas remain.” He shot a quick finger in the air, stopping murmurs before they could gain momentum. “We requested GA assistance and they saw fir to send Jonas. Whether or not we agree with their choice of delegates is an important matter. But I, for one, do not consider it worth forfeiting our request. We all understand the situation we’re facing. And we cannot stop this on our own. We’ve tried. And we’ve failed. If Jonas can assist us in any way to stop the sleepwalking, then I endorse his presence.”

I felt numb, unsure how to feel. On one hand, his forthright support, given everyone else’s hostility, was touching. On the other hand, I wished they’d just agree they didn’t want me there so I could go home. The GA would consider the RFA as forfeit and that would be the end of it.

Martha broke down—tears of anger and anguish indiscriminate from one another. She stormed out, followed by two other women of similar age. That left five Elders.

Mr. Goff made no objection to her departure and shifted his attention back toward the remaining Elders. “Mary,” he said.

Again, I was surprised—not so much that Mary was an Elder, but that she was on the Small Council. Normally the positions were reserved for those who spent decades on the Larger Council and those holding particular positions elsewhere in the community.

She looked at me, wearing her same magnificent smile, but with apologetic eyes.

“Sorry, Jonas. I vote no. I cast my vote solely as a representing those of the Larger Council.” There was an odd sort of apology in her eyes. Or perhaps it was sympathy. I couldn’t tell. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt.

That was two. It wasn’t until Mr. Goff identified the third and final Council member that I knew the deal was sealed.

“Reverend?”

Mentally, I based myself for some hotheaded, pompous, ecclesiastic bullshit about me being the devil.

Instead, he hesitated. 

“He’s here. I vote he stays, but only until only midday tomorrow. We answer his questions now, bring him to Jerry’s pasture tonight, and then have a brief meeting tomorrow morning.”

I should have been grateful. After all, his vote was more or less, in support of me being there. But I still couldn’t shake my desire to march over and punch the bastard in the mouth. He had another thing coming if he thought one small gesture was going to make up for what he did to me—what all these fucking people did to me. Why couldn’t he have just voted that I leave? Its what he wanted. Honestly, I hated him all the more for his vote.

On a more positive note, I’d learned one very important lesson. That the Reverend was prepared to play games. I’d already known not to trust him. But I’d not figured him to be a conniving man. Lesson learned.

And yet, this made me wonder. Was in conniving out of pure dislike for me?—or did he know something about this investigation? If I were to discover evidence against him, he could discredit me. But if the GA were to send anyone else, it wouldn’t be nearly as easy.

What game are you playing Reverend?

Next Chapter: What’s the problem?