Fortune Spirit

His ceremonial allocution had gone splendidly. The travelers, all itching for celebrations after a few decades spent in cryogenic sleep, had hung on every one of his words. All had listened eagerly to the messages he was said to have received from the Fortunis during his sleep.

Walking to his quarters, Baldrec felt quite proud of himself. Thanks to him, they were only a month away from their new home planet. He’d played his cards well as an insider of the International Organization for Space Exploration. Once he’d seen the data proving Nova Fortuna had the right conditions, he’d quickly thought of a scheme to sway the world population into voting for the displacement.

He turned the corner leading to the Housing Sector of the New Hope and almost collided with Suri. She’d been one of his most relentless opposers from the ERD – the Earth Rescue Division – who advocated for staying on the planet to rehabilitate it, rather than flying to a new, viable world. She shot him her usual hostile look. Always so cranky, this one. She was with a woman he didn’t recognize. They’d clearly been talking with their heads close, paying no attention to where they were going. What could she possibly be plotting now, that insufferable tick?

“Good evening, ladies,” he chimed in his best Lead voice. “Missing out on the feast? Surely you can’t have anywhere more important to be.”

Suri pulled her acolyte by the sleeve and pushed past Baldrec, giving him a scornful look. He smiled, pleased with himself.

“Enjoy the evening, ladies,” he shot after them in a milky voice. He chuckled and went on his way.

Suri was the last of a long line of a population doomed by its love of nature. He’d grown to hate her, and his hatred had served him well. It had given him the inspiration to the Restricted Access Act. The RAA had forcibly fenced out all people outside the Final City – essentially, Suri’s people – who refused to abandon wildlife and vegetation to their inevitable demise. After that, supporters of the ERD had basically evaporated and they’d mostly lost the remaining people’s sympathy to the cause.

Baldrec had known that humans would always choose relocating over fixing a mess they’d created. So, as Earth had continued its downward spiral at the turn of the 23rd century, he’d felt his calling to guide the remnants of humanity to their next home: Nova Fortuna. With his legendary charisma and a few enchanting, yet believable – especially to the desperate – tales of kind, openhearted alien creatures willing to welcome humanity to their planet, he’d raised the Fortuna Shepherds. And who better to lead a group of believers to the new world than the man who received telepathic transmissions from the Fortunis, small furry creatures whose sentience and higher intelligence had already been confirmed by the world’s best scientists. Only a select few Fortune Shepherds Leads knew they hadn’t actually shown any capacity to communicate with humans.

From there, giving the Fortunis angel-like voices promising a new Eden for Terrans had been the best way to achieve global displacement. Millennia of religiously ruled societies were evidence that it would be most efficient.

It’s amazing what desperation can do to propel a new faith. And so, within a few years, his followers had multiplied, he’d been made First Lead of the Fortuna Shepherds, and Suri had lost her family along with her battle to stay and save Earth. Now, decades later, everyone was awaking in time for the landing on their new host planet.

But it was useless: by now, Earth would be lifeless. Or so that’s what everyone now believed, thanks to him, and why no one would bother listen to someone like Suri.

With today’s news, he was even more convinced of the righteousness of his actions. The transmission received from Nova Fortuna would miraculously confirm his story and would certainly help fortify his hold on humanity once they landed. He was impatient to read it. The best translators were working through the night – if that’s what it took – to bring him answers by morning.

It seemed impossible, even to him. Perhaps he’d underestimated the creatures who’d somehow known of his mission and clearly approved. He couldn’t wait to really begin exchanging with them and to secure himself as Human Leader. He could already see the glorious procession that would greet him upon their arrival.

His door slid open at the wave of his hand. A chip had been implanted in his wrist to grant him access to all areas of the ship. His quarters were private, unlike the rest of the populations’ communal rooms that each held up to fifty bunks and shared bathrooms.

As satisfied as he was with his performance that evening, Baldrec was exhausted and ready for bed. How strange to need more rest after having been in a cryogenic sleep for so long. He washed his face in the spacious, white-tiled bathroom. He was one of the rare few to enjoy unlimited access to water on the ship; yet another privilege of being the Shepherd Lead. He patted his face dry. A shriek escaped his throat when he saw his reflection in the mirror.

His elongated features were covered by the face of an ape carved in wood. The animal was angry, its mouth set in a menacing snarl that revealed sharp, blood-soaked teeth. It was a mask of painted wood, like something out of an ancient Earthly book. It was strangely alive and moving. There was suddenly another presence in his mind. He could feel its anger, its resentment. It forced him to recall images of forests burning and deserts burying wetlands, of animals dying and humans starving. For the first time ever, he wondered if he’d made a mistake leaving Earth. Doubt was a crippling feeling he couldn’t tolerate.

The face staring back from the mirror was terrifying, imposing, accusing. Panicking, he switched off the lights and ran to bed, resisting the urge to hide under his blanket like a child. He felt his face with his fingers over and over, making sure it was still made of skin. He traced his bushy eyebrows, his long, crooked nose, his thin lips. Surely, he’d just experienced some kind of hallucination caused by the cryogenic coma. Nothing more. Still, sleep was kept out of reach by terror.

*******

Baldrec nearly had to run to the Morning Debrief on the Main Deck. He was late, and he hated being late. It was imperative for him to claim control over the room. He’d been wasting time, afraid to get out of bed. He’d felt a wave of relief wash over him when he finally gathered the courage to look in the mirror and saw only his plain old face looking back at him. Clearly, last night’s visions were a figment of his imagination. Still, he was unnerved by the memory of the ape mask and the nightmares that had haunted the few hours of fitful sleep he’d gotten. He could still feel the weight of the accusations thrown against him in his dreams.

He’d all but forgotten his excitement to find out what the message from the Fortunis transmission was. He really needed to hurry: he had to take control of that message as soon as possible. He couldn’t risk anyone else making decisions in his place. Most importantly: he needed to become the Fortunis’ main contact, the link with humanity.

He noticed how hungry he was when he arrived at the Atrium, but breakfast would have to wait. He snuck a peek towards the buffet table through the glass door, but his view was blocked by a gathering of people. He stopped in his tracks to take in the scene.

Suri was standing on a chair, addressing the crowd. She was wearing that look of angry determination he hated so much. Why would she be mobilizing people now? It was ridiculous, her battle was as lost as it could be. He moved to the door but stopped himself short: his most important duty awaited him. Suri and her disruptive fellows would have to wait.

Reluctantly, he made his way to the Main Deck. With luck, this Morning Debrief will give me everything I need to put that girl in her place for good.

The Main Deck door opened at his wave and a rush of anger crushed him when he saw it was a full house. Everyone had arrived before him: the Captain, Steben Lead, Miro Lead, Sargent Lithrow – the last leader of the ERD, a diversity hire of the worst kind – and the three translators. He walked into the room confidently, determined to take over the meeting, as usual.

“You’re all here, good,” he started. “I wanted to st—”

His eyes dropped to the hologram screen over the conference table. Not only had the message been translated, but they’d all read it before his arrival. His face reddened with anger, then turned scarlet with frustration. I need to look steady.

“Ah, what’s this? Have you succeeded in your task?” he asked them in what he hoped sounded like condescending surprise.

“Yes, sir,” Wyra, the head translator, answered. “It’s…” she trailed off as she looked around the room. Baldrec didn’t know what to make of the fear in her eyes.

“Well? Get on with it,” he said, impatiently approaching the table to get a better look. “What does it say?”

They all stared at each other. The translators looked strained. Clearly, they’d been working all night. Baldrec normally appreciated the fear he inspired in his subordinates; some thought him crazy for claiming to hear voices, while others feared what other powers he might have. Most seemed to desperately want his blessing.

In any case, he had no patience for suspense today. He shoved Wyra and Lithrow aside so he could read the note himself.

DESTROYERS LEAVE. NO WELCOME. WE FIGHT BACK.

Destroyers? He stared at the words, read them over and over. This can’t be right. He didn’t understand. The ape’s wooden face flashed before his eyes and he almost stumbled when he backed away from the table suddenly.

No.

He glared at the three translators. “Clearly, you’ve got it wrong,” he said slowly, coating every word in cold anger. “You’ll keep working until you find a message that makes sense.”

They looked back at him with shocked expressions. Wyra’s mouth dropped while the scrawny man to her left looked like he might sob. The tall woman to her right had stone cold eyes.

“There’s no mistake, Baldrec Lead,” she said. “This is the message.”

“You’re wrong. Try again.” He held her gaze.

“Lead, really,” Wyra interjected, “there’s no mistake. That’s the message, we’ve worked on it all night, we’re—”

“You. Will. Try. Again.” Baldrec was impeccable.

Wyra looked to the Captain and the other leaders for support and was dismayed by their silence. “Yes,” she said sheepishly, “we’ll review the message again.”

“Good,” he said with forced joviality. “Then we’ll speak again tomorrow.”

He left the Main Deck, delegating the rest of the Debrief to his colleagues. With Steben Lead and Miro Lead’s hatred for Sargent Lithrow, he knew he’d be kept in check. It wasn’t hard since he hadn’t tried anything against the Fortuna Shepherds since the mass evacuation had been voted in. At least he knows when he’s defeated.

*******

Baldrec was exhausted. He didn’t feel the confidence he’d displayed at the Debrief. He needed to think, to come up with a plan. He was no fool: the false message would circulate if he didn’t act fast.

In his lounge, he poured himself a scotch. It was an extremely rare bottle of the old world, from the collection of a billionaire scotch enthusiast who had been lost in the Great Depletion.

The first sip went down with a familiar fire that steadied his nerves. Good. He paced in front of his space window. The great expanse was the perfect void to dive into when he needed to think.

But he was having a hard time aligning his thoughts. He kept going back and forth between the Debrief, the concerning transmission, Suri’s gathering of angry Earth sympathizers and memories of the mask.

He wasn’t sure when he’d stopped pacing, but he was now staring straight into space. The stars barely seemed to move even though they were cruising at a good speed. The great expanse indeed. He could see his reflection in the glass, his thin figure in his everyday burgundy robe and the black embroidered symbol of Lead Fortune Shepherd. He could almost still see the mask over his face.

Wait.

He gasped. The reflection of his face was once again covered in the wooden mask, only this time, it didn’t have the features of an ape. It was a beautiful, weeping woman. Her eyebrows and her hair were made of vines that swayed in a wind he could feel on his skin. With every movement, flowers fell away, gathering at his feet. He was compelled to look back at her. He felt immense sadness and loss. He longed for the beautiful green valleys of Earth, places he had never seen himself but only on hologram screens and in rare books.

“No! I was right to make them leave! Stop it!” He was desperate.

The wood bent and twisted in answer, its colors changing and rearranging until the woman became an angry man, frowning at him. With him, Baldrec felt angry, betrayed. The man gave him the desire to start a revolution, to turn back and try to save Earth.

He wanted only to rip off the mask, regain control of his own thoughts and feelings, but all he could feel under his prying fingers was his own skin. I’ve gone mad. Terrified, he ran out of his chambers, unsure where to go but vaguely aware that he was headed to the Atrium.

People. He sought people who could keep his visions at bay.

He had never been so grateful for the ship’s plain white walls that offered no adornment, no object that could possibly show him his face. He pushed the doors in too hard, almost falling into the crowded room as they slammed into the walls on either side.

He was suddenly aware of his distraught, traumatized demeanor. Every face was on him. The Atrium was packed with people. He started recognizing them: Suri first – of course, she would be there when he looked this way – but also the entire counsel, the Captain, and most of the crew were there.

Baldrec began to see them for what they were: a group of people who’d come here with a purpose. A gathering of this size happening without his knowledge… it couldn’t be good. For once in his life, he was speechless.

“Baldrec Lead,” the Captain opened, “You’re here.”

“Of course, I’m here!” Bladrec was angry and desperate to read the room, spastically touching his face to make sure it was still his own. He saw his opportunity when he spotted the three translators. “What are you lot doing here? You have work to do!”

“Enough, Baldrec!” Suri stepped forward, forgoing the decorum of titles, anger and righteousness gleaming in her eyes. “We know about the transmissions.”

He was shocked. No one – NO ONE – bypassed him. How did she know? “Of course, you do. I’ve shared with you every message I’ve ever received from the Fortunis. Why wouldn’t you know?”

“Enough. With. The. Lies!” She had fire in her eyes. “Earth is angry, Baldrec. I know it’s been speaking to you. It’s lead me to the transmission, to the truth! We’re not welcome to destroy another planet. We will not invade a new world and murder its creatures like your ancestors did on ours. We need to go back. We need to save Earth while we still can. The Spirits demand it.”

“Earth? Spirits? Demand!” Could it be she knows of the mask? Spirits? Going back? It’s madness! “You’ve lost your mind! Nova Fortuna is waiting for us with open arms! We are on our way to our new home. Earth is beyond saving. Fool!” he was shouting now, sweat falling off his face and onto his robes. “You’re all fools! Listen to me, I am your leader! You chose me!”

His eyes hurt, drool was sliding down the corners of his mouth. Everyone’s expressions turned to strange shock. Everyone but Suri’s. She wore a knowing look and a crooked smile.

“Clearly, the spirits don’t forgive you, Baldrec.”

What? He wiped away a tear as it slipped from his eye and his hand came away smeared with blood. His face felt wrong under his touch: soft ridges of carved wood covered his cheekbones where his skin should’ve been smooth. He felt it shift under his fingers as the snout that was where his nose had been melted and reformed into a slender nose with rodent-like teeth, and then again into a long sharp beak. What is happening to me? What am I becoming?

“My fellow humans, this man is no longer in charge!”

He distantly heard shouts of agreement raising from the crowd. He had turned to the glass doors of the Atrium and stared at his reflection. The mask was his now, with all traces of his old features gone. He felt for its edges, but the wood was one with his body. It was shifting incessantly from the shape of one extinct species to another, to the Weeping Mother – he knew her, now – and back to the Angry Father. His eyes, nose and mouth were dripping with the blood of the lost innocents.

“We are going home!”

He couldn’t hear them anymore. He was completely filled with sounds of Earth, with the creatures who had fought and lost, and with the angry Spirits that were human, animal and something else altogether. His body was filled with others, barely leaving enough room for Baldrec.

He belonged to Earth.