"Starman Sam" by Frances Monro

Starman Sam on the Planet of the Medieval Matriarchs

Chapter 1 - Planet in Distress

Starman Sam was in the bath when the distress call came in. He was on sabbatical from the Pelagic Argosy traveling in seclusion aboard the space yacht Tilly enroute to the sybaritic delights of Serendip, that well known pleasure planet.

"Sam," Tilly called through her speakers. "There's a distress call coming in."

"Oh not now, Tilly, I'm in the bath. Can't it wait?" He blew bubbles across the surface of the warm water and lay back full length, the spa jets playing across his firm body and sighed. Really the facilities aboard a tiny shuttle like Tilly were quite limited, but the peace and solitude made it all worth while.

"It's a distress call, Sam," Tilly chided gently. "That makes it urgent."

"Oh very well," he said with a sigh,  mildly annoyed at this intrusion on his holiday. "Who's it from?"

"It's not from a ship, it's from a planet."

"A planet? In distress? That's not normal, is it? Can't somebody else deal with it?"

"We are the nearest vessel, Sam. We should at least go and take a look. We can call in other ships if they're required."

"I guess so." He sighed again and started to get out of the bath. You can't really deal with a distress call while you're immersed in warm water. "Where's it from? What's wrong?" Some kind of galactic plague, perhaps, he wondered, or a fungus. Really, planets were so primitive.

"It's from a planet called Murphosa, which seems to be a long way from anywhere important. Settled in 3790 by a group of back to nature fanatics. No contact for the last 400 years."

Sam raised his arms and let the jets of hot air dry him off. "Primitives, then. What joy."

"Yes, primitives, Sam. I'm rather surprised that they still possess a hyperspace radio, even if it is only an emergency beacon."

"Well those things are made to last. It's probably a false alarm, some yokel probably tried to feed it to his pigs or something."

"Perhaps."

"Well you'd better set a course to this, what's it called, Murphosa, then."

"Already done, Sam, we're on our way."

Chapter 2 - Planetfall

True to Tilly's word they were already on their way, and indeed it was less than a diurnal cycle later when they approached the mysterious planet of Murphosia. Sam barely had time to dinner, sleep, wake, bathe, excrete, breakfast and dress before the unfamiliar globe swam into being on the viewscreen. He finished grooming hair cut so carefully to convey the perfect sense of casual insouciance as he sauntered down the passageway to the main lounge as the outer fringes of atmosphere began to hiss gently past the Tilly's hull.

"Are we there yet?" he demanded.

"Very nearly, Sam. As you can see from the viewports." This time Tilly spoke through one of her drones - a simple grey ovoid that floated at approximately eye height in the centre of the lounge. It's only decoration was a single band of light and color around it's circumference, color and intensity varying to provide emphasis to the ship's voice and feelings.

Indeed Sam could see the world approaching swiftly through the viewport. Already the sky had taken on a very appealing shade of blue. The ground Sam was less happy with, it was a mottled green and yellow with patches of muddy brown and white. It was all so unrefined!

"Excellent. Now, what shall I need?"

"Are you planning to disembark, Sam? You know that's really not necessary."

"Of course I am, Tilly. We received a distress call, didn't we? So it's my duty to respond. In person."

"If you say so, Sam."

"Besides, the natives probably aren't used to robots. They'd probably run a mile from one of your drones, whereas I'm quite attractive in appearance - that has to be a plus in any diplomatic encounter."

"I guess so," Tilly admitted. "It's not quite my area of expertise. But perhaps it is best if I keep my drones out of sight at least for the initial meeting."

"But close enough to be of assistance if required?" Sam enquired, a slight note of uncertainty entering into his voice for the first time.

"Of course."

The ship had by now come to rest over might have been considered a sizeable city on the backwards planet. To Sam it seemed like a small, squalid, primitive and yet paradoxically crowded conglomeration of makeshift dwellings and fortresses. The buildings had been cobbled together from whatever lay to hand - mud, sticks, stones and grass predominated. The streets in between, if he could dignify them with that name, were composed of mud and other less pleasant substances. Inhabitants teemed the open spaces some on two legs and others on four, human and livestock mixed together indiscriminately. It was hard to say which were filthier, but then there seemed to be plenty of filth do go around. Presently the inhabitants mostly seemed to be engaged in gawping open mouthed at the (to them) immense ship which floated so serenely in the sky above them.

"Where are my shots?" Sam demanded. "I'll need some shots to go down there, won't I? Inoculations, boosters, that kind of thing? There are bound to be lots of germs down in that lot."

"No, I don't think so." Tilly said reassuringly. "Your adaptive immune system was updated only five standard years ago, Sam.  You should be fine against any germ that 400 years of evolution has thrown up. But I can give you a booster if you like?"

"Yes thank you. And monitor the germ situation very carefully."

"I will Sam. And if you get the sniffles I'll be sure to wipe your nose."

Sam gave the drone and offended look, frowning at the amused blue shades that chased each other around and around it's central color band. "Oh now I'm being made fun of! How unfair," he complained. "Well I hope you catch a computer virus, you unfeeling hunk of silicon."

"That's not very likely, Sam," Tilly replied smugly. The drone approached to give Sam his shot. There was a faint hiss and it was done - no pain, no mess, and no pointy needles. "Besides which you know that ship brains haven't been made from silicon for hundreds of years."

"Perhaps I do, and perhaps I don't," Sam replied. "Can we please return to the matter at hand?"

"Of course. The signal appears to be coming from that structure there." A flashing red circle appeared around one of the buildings in the viewport. "Historical records indicate that it is called a castle. It's purpose is to shelter from violent attacks during warfare."

"Really? It doesn't look very formidable."

"You must remember that they don't have lasers and ships, anti-gravity, or even aircraft in this technological era, Sam. The walled areas at the edge present a real obstacle to unfriendly people approaching on foot."

"Yes, and the mud and sewage are an even worse obstacle. Put me down inside the walls if you will."

"Of course." The ground in the viewport approached closer and closer until they rested as gently as a feather on the wet cobbles of the courtyard. "I've created a way to keep in contact with you while you're on the surface, Sam. Place this ear plug in your ear - it doesn't matter which one - and it will interface with your neural net. I'll be able to see and hear what you do and speak to you without anyone else being able to overhear. Perhaps I can offer advice during your mission."

A small pink cylinder floated from the drone and Sam obediently took it and stuck it in his ear. The exit portal slid open and a whiff of fragrant planetary air washed into the ship.

"Yes Mother."

"Does Sammy-whammy-kins need anything elsey-welsy?"

"Now now, Tilly, be nice. What should I do when I get out there?" He asked, gazing uncertainly at the dank cobblestoned courtyard outside which now seemed to be taking on a rather unpleasant immediacy.

"Contact the locals. Find the emergency beacon. Determine who activated it and find out what they want."

"Contact the locals. Find the beacon, ask what they want. Right." With that he strode from the ship onto the waiting world outside.

Chapter 3 - Arrival

Sam stood in the courtyard looking around at the grey castle and it's scurrying inhabitants as Tilly rose back to park high overhead, her shadow receding across the ground in front of him. The structure did look a lot more formidable from the ground, with high crenellated walls and narrow slit like windows which must, he thought, make it very hard to see anything out of them at all. All in all it was like something out of some ancient storybook.

Most threatening of all was the woman dressed in a bulky outfit of metal and leather, who approached him, pointing a strange wooden object at him, some kind of wooden weapon, perhaps. He raised his hands and smiled ingratiatingly. "I come in peace."

"Who are you?" she demanded harshly, keeping the weapon leveled at him. "Keep your hands up. Where are you from? What is that thing?"

"What thing?" he asked, puzzled, keeping his hands raised as she patted him down, removing items from his pockets. He looked on with interest - This was an unusual greeting routine. She took out his music player and looked it over curiously, then she shoved it into her belt and continued to search him, discovering a sheet of digital paper, taking it out and shaking it, which removed all the writing.

The woman frowned. "The thing in the sky, you idiot!" she snapped.

"Oh that? That's Tilly."

"What?"

"She's a ship. A starship. Her name is Tilly."

"A Starship?"

At this moment an old man burst from the door of a nearby tower, his long robes flapping as he ran. "The starmen!" he cried. "They've come!"

He turned to smile at the newcomer. "Hello, I'm Sam. I'm not sure who this woman is."

"Welcome! This is the Captain of the Guard, Captain Marissa."

"Keep your hands up." The woman said.

"But Marissa he's here because of me. I summoned him, The Queen…"

"Maybe he is. Or maybe not."

More women dressed in long robes emerged from the building, and approached.

"I'm here to help," Sam said. "In answer to a distress call."

"It worked!" the old man declared, beaming and skipping with joy. "It really worked! I summoned the Starmen. I summoned them!"

"Marissa, lower your weapon," one of the women said in commanding tones. The Captain lowered the weapon with obvious reluctance, scowling at him. "Welcome," the woman continued, addressing him. "Welcome, Sir, to the city of Karaliste and the Matriarchy of Murphosia. I am Lady Carla of the Queen's Council. You've already met Captain Marissa and this man is the Wizard Simon."

"Hi," he said happily, examining the weapon Marissa carried with interest. It seemed to be some kind of primitive kinetic energy weapon, powered by tension in a metal bar or spring, projecting some kind of a metal projectile. He shivered, it looked primitive, but effective, and it probably explained why the woman wore so much metal in her outfit. He looked up again. "Um, but my name isn't Sir, it's Sam. I am Sam."