Exile

My Ma and I raised birds when I was a kid. We always found that the birds that lived the longest, were those who couldn’t see the bars of their cage. Those that were kept in a room and didn’t know that outside, birds could fly as far as they wished. They figured that this room was the whole wide world, so they were content with their fate; thinking they were free.

A hundred years ago, I might have felt the same. Humans once thought that there was only one liveable planet in the whole cosmos and that it was theirs. Arrogant fools. But they were content, going about their day, barely thinking about the infinite darkness that stretched all around them. Unfortunately, I knew better.

Exile was a cruel fate for a traveller like me. Sure, I hadn’t been an explorer. Nothing as grand as that. I hadn’t found distant lands and you’d certainly never see my scruffy face on the side of a cereal box. I was just the humble captain of a small Taxi Ship.

I provided budget transportation for people wanting to hop between planets: mostly for holidays or business trips. They were just ordinary folk. It was fair and honest work. The pay was pitiful, but as long as I had enough for fuel, repairs and a good meal that was all I needed.

My ship, she wasn’t much to look at if I’m being honest with myself. She was dented and battered, from years of dings with damn space junk. Her yellow paint had been mostly scrapped off, and she couldn’t break the sound barrier without rattling up a storm. Metal grinding on metal, no matter how much I oiled her. She was a battered old lady, that was for sure. But she was my battered old lady and I missed her.

We’d had a lot of adventures together, her and I. Been to 52 different planets at the last count and a few barren moons. Even got caught in an asteroid belt once – now I tell you, I’d near soiled by trousers that day! But despite all the bumps and bruises, we’d always come out fine.

Only now, she was gone. I was mighty mad about my sentencing. Exiled for life on the mining planet Andromeda, was a bit of an overreaction. But her fate was unconscionable! And the way the blooming judge had said it like she was nothing more than an afterthought! “His ship is to be discontinued and incinerated.” He was so matter-of-fact as he granted my baby a death sentence. Not even pulled apart for scraps, probably too rusty… But still! She had a lot of life in her yet, the old dear. Could have made another cabby really happy.

I could spank that judge I could. That young boy, with his silky white robes and air of superiority. I’d have been flying these skies while his mother was still wiping his bottom. I don’t care what that kid said, I was no bloody smuggler. It was a simple transport to a neighbouring planet, nothing I hadn’t done a million times.

The man’s profile hadn’t even stood out either. Mid-forties. Peppered hair. Bit of a beer gut. Nothing to make me think he was a career criminal! It’s not like he wrote that in his bio! It said he was a bloody stockbroker! Then again, maybe that was a clue…

He’d had all his papers and worn a cheap-looking suit, nothing out of the ordinary for one of my corporate clients. Sure he’d wanted to go to Ternicious, which had a bit of an unsavoury rep, but who was I to judge him? He didn’t have a ring. A man deserves a bit of fun.

We’d never made it. Intercepted on the way and cuffed – the both of us. I’d screamed bloody murder at them, demanding to know what they were doing. Might not have helped my case, threatening to give one of the coppers a bump on the head. But a man has a right to defend himself and I was bloody innocent!

Sure, I wasn’t the virgin goddess. I had a bit of a rap sheet. Been a bit of a troublemaker in my younger years. But I’d put all of that behind me. And a record didn’t make me a smuggler! Pricks hadn’t believed me, of course. And now here I was. A miner.

Well at least in the mines, I was able to work with birds again. It was a small silver lining. They were just canaries, none of the colourful parrots or Macaws my Ma and I had raised. We brought them into the mines. I tell you, the second one of them starts dying you get yourself out quick smart.

I even had a favourite, I’d named Lachy. He was a mighty silly bird, might have fallen from the nest as a hatchling. But he was the only one of them that still sang. Only one still fool enough not to notice the bars of his cage and feel his spirit dampened.