Chapter 2

That night, Robin dreamt of Utopia again.
It was exactly the same dream again; looking out his window at Utopia below him, then walking down the main corridor of his ship; then entering the bridge. It always ended before he could sit down in his Captain’s chair.
This time, he prepared for going outside when he woke. He slipped quietly into his protective suit, and placed his hat onto his dark hazel hair.
Is this a good idea?
Yes, it is, actually.
Opening the back doors once again, Robin Fox stepped onto the porch landing, the wood creaking under his boots. Slowly this time, he edged forward to go down the steps and onto the mud.
Almost nothing lived in the soil. Apirath was one of Utopia’s largest moons; almost a sixteenth of the size of the planet itself; but it was also one of the furthest away. Millions of miles of empty space stretched between Robin and his dream. To him, the distance was simply incomprehensible. Utopia was right there; just in the sky there. He could simply reach out and touch it. Grab it, hold it close to him. But he couldn’t set foot there.
The only memory of his father he had was that of him telling Robin of Utopia, and the Utopia Guardianship.
‘What is the Guardianship, Father?’
A look of pride and wonderment came on his father’s features as he replied. ‘The Utopia Guardianship is the finest, greatest, most noble fighting force in the whole Universe. You would be darned lucky to be part of that.’
‘Can we go and see them? Do they have big ships?’ Robin exclaimed excitedly.
His father chuckled. ‘They have the largest fleet of ships in the Universe; small jet fighters, bombers, Mission Ships. And their specially made Naval Space Vessels are legendary.’
‘So can we go?’
‘No, Robin, we have you to look after! We have a home, a life. The Guardianship is a place for wanderers, adventurers. Someday, when you’ve left all this behind, you can become an adventurer if you like,’ he smiled, and kissed Robin on the top of his dark hazel hair.
To Robin, that seemed like the greatest adventure he could ever know; being part of the Utopia Guardianship. He stubbed the toe of his boot into the acid sodden mud in anger.
To his mother, the Utopia Guardianship’s name was mud.
Her own father had been part of the Guardianship; and died fighting under their guard. Robin knew that was the reason she forbid him to ever leave Apirath. She didn’t want him to have that adventure. She wanted him to stay at home and be a good boy; picking the fruits and barley every harvest in their greenhouse, fixing things when they broke down, fetching things from the market every Saturday.
Robin’s house was opposite a small lake, nestled in the hills. Stretching out across the lake from his house was a wooden jetty; coated, obviously, in acid proof paint, as was everything around here.
He took slow, deliberate steps through the silent mud as he gazed upward, the breath being knocked out of his body. A familiar fire blossomed from his heart, blazing all the way down to his fingertips as he stared up at the planet that was always in his head.
How will I ever get there?
Robin winced; a drop of rain had landed on his hand. He raised his hand up to his eyes, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the sky. On one of his knuckles there was now a small red burn.
Apirath was a mining moon; it was where Utopia got the energy for ships from. Due to all the gases and fumes being pumped into Apirath’s atmosphere, it rained constantly and the rain was extremely acidic.
Robin was never sure whether the miners knew he and his mother lived here.
He tucked his hands into the pockets of his protective suit and trudged through the mud towards the jetty. All the while he stared up into the sky, not knowing how he would return to the house.
Robin both adored and detested his own house; it was lovely and old, and he loved old things. It was made of a beautiful dark red cedar, with big wide rooms and tiny cubby holes. He didn’t like the tiny windows, however; it made him feel even more like a prisoner.
But he detested his house for the exact reason he loved it; it was old. Every day, without fail, something would break. A window would smash under the strain of all of the badly built wood above it; beams would collapse in the roof, tables crack, walls split. Robin wasn’t sure how much longer it would be until the house completely collapsed.
So he was terrified of ever leaving the house, in case his mother was trapped inside; but he was also terrified to be under its unstable roof.
Robin walked slowly down the jetty, the wood creaking softly under his boots.
He sat down on the edge of it, swinging his legs over the gloopy green surface of the lake.
Dreams don’t come true.
Suddenly he felt something peculiar in his pocket; he pulled it out. It was a tiny old radio, with little dials and quaint wooden panelling on its face.
Robin loved radios; like proper old radios. Ones that crackled like an evening fire on a winter night. He found them fascinating. He loved how you could turn a dial and hear someone halfway across the galaxy talking about something you never knew existed. Rarely would Robin listen to any music, he preferred the talking.
Twisting the tuning dial with an expert hand, Robin flicked his gaze back to the planet above him in the sky and scowled.
‘-and of course, you’re on missions all year round?’
Robin glanced back at the radio in his hands, cautiously optimistic.
‘Yes, almost every week we get a new one in.’
‘And what kind of missions do you lead, General?’
Robin couldn’t believe his luck- it just had to be the Guardianship they were talking about. And a General!
‘Well, I can’t say much,’ the General chuckled. ‘But it’s incidents where the First Battalion or Squadrons aren’t needed, and perhaps a fair bit of diplomacy. Mostly on other planets or moons, although sometimes we have missions on Utopia herself.’
Robin drew in his breath.
The interviewer seemed just as awed as Robin was. ‘Just to remind our listeners, General, how is the Utopia Guardianship structured?’
Robin knew the ranks and groups off by heart, of course, but it was fantastic to hear it from a General. A real General!
‘The Guardianship is split into five Squadrons and five Battalions. The Squadrons are mainly used for flight, battles, politics and reconnaissance in space, and the Battalions are used for all that on the ground. Although they swap sometimes,’ the General gave another chuckle, as if laughing at a private joke. He coughed and recovered himself. ‘The Squadrons are called Battle, Mission, Medic, Rescue and Special Operations. Battalions are called First, Second, Third, Fourth and SO.’
‘Right, so the Squadrons and Battalions are basically counterparts of each other?’
‘Yes, that’s right. And then each Squadron has fifty Sectors, and each Battalion has seventy.’
‘So the Battalions are bigger?’
‘Yes, they have to be, as they are the primary force behind our fighting on the ground.’
‘And you’re a General, so you’re in charge of a Sector?’
‘Yes, I’m the head of Sector 23, Mission Squadron.’
Robin, beaming, looked up once more at Utopia. It was so refreshing to hear the words that spun round his brain so often from the mouth of someone else; a General even.
‘Well your day job sounds very unusual, if I do say so myself, General!’ the interviewer guffawed.
‘Yes, it can be quite eventful!’ the General chuckled.
Robin somehow got the feeling the General was simply toying with the interviewer. The way he just accepted anything he said, agreed with everything. There was something not entirely right about it; but Robin brushed that aside.
‘One final question, General. What would you say to young people out there who want to be part of the Guardianship?’
There was a thoughtful pause and Robin held his breath.
‘The best thing to do is get out there and see it all for yourself. Even if you’re not a Cadet yet, see the shipyards and docking. Go and look at Battalion Aid, craft hangers and anything else. If there’s a mission taking place that you know of, see if you can go and help. We always say in the Guardianship that how you get to know something is by experiencing it.’

A high pitched whining noise filled Robin’s head and he automatically flung his hands up to cover his ears, the radio sliding off his lap and into the murky sludge below. Trying to pinpoint where the horrible noise was coming from, he twisted round to look back at the house.
Just as he caught sight of the house from the corner of his eye, the whine suddenly erupted in his ears and suddenly a huge fireball cascaded toward him. Robin barely had time to give a hoarse gasp of horror before the angry red fire engulfed him.

Chapter 1

“You’re needed on the Bridge, Captain.”

Captain Robin Fox couldn’t help a small smile. “What is it this time, General?” he asked, trying to appear irritated, as a proper Captain should do when he’s called away from star gazing. He failed.

“We’re approaching Utopia, sir.” There was a pause over the radio. “We thought you should be the one to guide her in.”

Captain Robin Fox now let the smile spread, a familiar glow of excitement and relief flowing through his toes. He was coming home.

Tearing his gaze away from the star-studded window, he crossed the floor of his private quarters to the glass pane opposite. The sight of the planet Utopia still took his breath away every time.

The planet’s circumference loomed in the window’s view, a beautiful glowing halo of pastel blue atmosphere blocking out all of the pinpricks of light from the black void of space beyond. Rivers and oceans of the purest emerald beckoned. Crisp peacock blue mountain ranges rose up through the wispy silver clouds. Surrounding the planet was a set of stunning rings- their rainbow of ringshine bathing the equator of the planet in the richest of crimsons and the deepest of purples. It was so massive that only a fraction of the planet fit into the window Captain Robin Fox was gazing through; and that window was big enough as it was.

Utopia.

Utopia.

The word, in the Captain’s mind, was always said with a deep respect. Whenever he thought of Utopia, it was always said with a shaking sense of awe. In the Captain’s mind, if anyone did not feel a sense of insignificance when the word Utopia was issued from their lips, they were not human.

Before heading to the Bridge, Captain Fox checked his Log.

Date:    21 3 4010

Log of Captain Robin Fox, Captain of the NSV Cattalionia, Commander of the Mission Squadron of the Utopia Guardianship.

 The mission to rescue the residents of the moon of Apirath and return them to their rightful home of the planet Utopia was successful- all residents are safely aboard the ship. Return should be easy, landing at approximately 20:30.

Nothing else to report, he thought, satisfied.

Captain Fox strode along the brightly lit silver corridor; his boots making firm contact with the gleaming floor, his Captain’s uniform’s buttons glinting. When he reached the Bridge, his smile became a full on grin, pride swelling in his chest as he surveyed his crew. His First Officer was stood to the right of his Captain’s chair; his Medical Officer, drafted specially in from the Medic Squadron early that season, caught his eye and grinned; his Pilot gazed at him with respect and a little excitement; the rest of the crew waiting expectantly with wide eyes, fanned against the back and side walls.

Striding confidently forward, Captain Robin Fox smiled as he moved to sit in his Captain’s chair-

Eyes flickered open.

Robin Fox lay staring at the peeling ceiling for a few long moments.

He could hear his heartbeat if he listened carefully, and he sighed heavily through his nose as he realised that it was happening again.

I must stop dreaming.

Rubbing his eyes and groaning, he sat up on his elbows.

Robin Fox was not a Commander, and he was not a Captain. He did not belong to the Utopia Guardianship.

But I do belong-

Shut up.

I do not belong to the Utopia Guardianship. I am not a Captain, and I am not a Commander. I am a boy.

Utopia does not exist.

He had to see it again.

Tossing the covers off in a moment of mad desperation and yearning, Robin scrambled out of bed, nearly tripped on the dog-eared edges of the floorboards and dashed, as quietly as he could, down the corridor. On reaching the back porch, he burst open the doors and held his breath.

It was early morning on Apirath, with the muddy green slopes of rock and ferns receiving the usual morning drizzle, the rain not even breaking the surface tension on the opaque sludgy surface of the small lake, nestled in amongst the hills. The sky above him was a mid-range grey, dull and lifeless.

Oh but it did exist. And it was beautiful.

As he gazed up into the sky, Robin Fox suddenly felt like he could breathe again; like he’d been trapped under a smothering blanket and it had just been blissfully torn away.

There she is.

The planet Utopia hung in the sky like an angel from heaven, with those same peacock blue valleys and emerald oceans, threads of silver clouds. And those rings. Blindingly beautiful crimsons and purples.

It felt so close Robin Fox could almost touch it.

It was high in the sky this morning, and although it was small enough that Robin could cover it with his thumb if he held his hand up, he still felt an electrifying thrill every time he caught sight of it.

For a few moments he simply stared at Utopia, all that distance away.

All that distance away.

Then his skin began to burn.

Cringing at his own stupidity once again, he spun around and scrambled back onto the porch. The rain on Apirath always burned.

You shouldn’t have looked. You know what Mother would say.

Robin cringed again, this time not from the rain that burned his skin. Mother.

He closed the double doors behind him, wincing at the crack that echoed from the doorframes. He caught one last look at the orb in the sky that haunted his dreams and then turned away.

“Robin.”

Damnit.

His mother was stood in the doorway, resting on the frame. Her frail but proud face stood illuminated against the dark backdrop of the corridor beyond. Her eyes burned like fire.

“What were you doing?”

She was old; but her words still cut through Robin like ice cold knives.

Lie. Say you were just checking the weather. Just checking if anyone was around.

Bullshit. No one ever comes here.

“Um.” He paused. “Just getting some fresh air.”

He could see her eyes slowly travel from his to somewhere past the window. He knew what she was looking at. She knew he knew.

“Robin, you must stop dreaming.” she sighed, but her voice was still strong. And with that she turned away and hobbled down the corridor and into the kitchen.

Robin Fox was lost.

“Robin, would you pass the salt?”

Robin looked up from his plate and nodded, pushing the salt grinder across the table. There was a pause.

“Thank you, Robin.”

There was another pause, longer this time.

Robin and his mother were sat in their kitchen. It was late afternoon, and they were having lunch.

Suddenly there was an ominous crack, and the table they were eating on split in two across the middle.

Both Robin and his mother had managed to keep hold of their plates, preventing them from sliding down toward the fold in the wood.

“There goes another one,” his mother sighed.

“I’ll fetch another one later,” Robin suggested hopefully.

His mother looked at him sternly. “No, we can go on market day, as always, my dear.”

Robin’s heart fell.

They picked up their plates, balanced them on the ends of the two halves of the table and continued eating in silence.

“Robin,” his mother began, almost hesitantly, pausing to chew slowly on a piece of food.

“Yes, Mother?” he muttered, staring down at his plate, knowing what was coming.

“Have you been dreaming again?”

“No,” was his reply, not looking up.

His mother balanced her fork on her plate precariously and then gazed straight into Robin’s eyes; he had to look up.

“Robin, you cannot spend your life wishing you are somewhere you cannot be,” she began gravely. “The Utopia Guardianship does not exist as you think it does.”

Robin thought about saying something but he had been through this before; better just to wait until it was over.

“You don’t need to go anywhere; you have everything right here,” his mother continued to rasp. Her fork was beginning to tip on her plate. She caught it just in time. “And anyway,” she added, “You wouldn’t leave me here, would you?”

She said it with an almost triumphant edge to her voice, and the fire was now dying slightly in her eyes.

Robin shook his head. “No, of course not. I’m sorry.”

“Now, would you tidy this up and fetch the small table from the front porch? Then we can see what’s on the radio.”

Robin looked at his mother for a long moment and then stood. His own fork which had been balancing on his plate slid from his grasp with a clash.

“Sorry,” he whispered, but his mother did not seem to notice. Picking up the fork, he put it on the side and left the room.

Prologue

"Are you a star?" I asked her.

"No," she laughed in reply. "The skies are not my path."

"Then are you the ripples on the pond water?" I asked in wonderment.

"No, I do not dance on glass," she answered with a smile.

I paused and thought.

"Then you must be an angel," I said eventually.

"No," she laughed again, but I could hear the laugh was broken like a splinter.

I paused again. All I could hear was my own heartbeat. Alone but safe in the darkness.

"Are you lonely?" I asked softly.

She was silent. Then she spoke and her voice echoed with the mountain calls of the eagle and the soft cries of the waterfall. "Yes, I am lonely," she whispered. "In this world who cannot be?"

"The wolf," I replied. "Howling it's call to the moon, running alongside it's brothers and bringing meat for the she-wolf."

Silence.

"Are you not an angel?" I asked once more.

"When you are younger your mind is not tainted." she murmured. "One day we will keep it that way."

I stared at her in amazement.

"I was stood once, up against a window." she whispered. "I opened it and put my hand out, feeling the cool drops of rain on my skin. But it burned. I realised I was not what I was meant to be. Never again could I look someone in the eyes and ask 'What am I?""

"What are you?" I asked.

For over an hour she was silent. I waited, as I knew her answer would be important.

"A wanderer." she whispered softly. "I take to the wing and oversee everything below. The skies are not my path; they are my solitude. I am not a star; I do not burn brightly enough. I do not dance on the pond water; I am not pure enough. Tainted forever more. As the wolves cry their song to the moon I tremble above."

A single tear rolled down her cheek. It was like a diamond; glinting in the ice light.

"I listen to the murmurs of the people below and the whispers of the long grass. They tell me nothing of who I am."

"Oh." I replied breathlessly. I felt a deep stirring of pity for her. "You should listen to the song of the moon and stars instead."

"Why?" she murmured.

"Because then you can find out who you are."

"I can never find out who I am. It would destroy me." she replied simply.

"So you must listen to the murmurs and whispers until you break?" I whispered, horrified.

"I must listen to the wolves’ sad song until I break." she confirmed with a smile, and disappeared through the darkness.

~~~