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It seemed, to everyone watching, that the scout wasn’t coming back. He had been gone too long. This was a rare, though not unheard of, occurrence. Establishing a new gate location outside the Aldrinar home network was thoroughly researched. All the equations were worked out and rechecked many times before anybody even thought of sending a scout through. Still, somebody had to be sent to the other side before the link could be finalised. Sometimes the opposite side was found to be inhabited, and negotiations had to be made regarding the placement of the gate. Sometimes it was found that the destination was too dangerous for people to routinely travel through. Sometimes a gate just wasn’t prone to stick to that particular location. And, although the gate technicians didn’t like to admit it, in a few rare occasions the gate equations had an error in them.

Given the vastness of the universe, it was impractical to fly from one star to another, even for the Aldrin. Just because they didn’t die of old age didn’t mean they would enjoy spending a hundred years on a ship just to visit some old friends. Given enough time, however, a world will come up with solutions for any problems it might face. The solution the Aldrin developed for the problem of travel was gating. A gate was a special path that led outside normal space, into the nebulous non-universe region that bordered what was understood to be reality. Travel along one of these paths was nearly instantaneous; the most distant place yet travelled to only took thirty-six and a half seconds to reach. The difficult part, once the mechanics of opening a gate were discovered, was the exceedingly complex mathematics behind connecting one point and another. Most of it was done by computer, but it still required a sentient mind to guide and oversee the process.

At the time, it was impossible to tell what happened to the scout. Over the next week or two they would organise a ship to be sent to those coordinates to investigate. Every scout knew the dangers inherent in his work, and, generally, all his friends knew he was a scout, too. That didn’t make the loss of a good man any easier, though. They would hold the gate open all day, just in case he was merely waylaid and could make his way back home still. They would send out traces along the entire gate network, because sometimes a lost scout was merely diverted, in a strange conjunction of the teleportation paths that accidentally sent him to the wrong destination. That was another difficulty in establishing a new gate, the possibility that it could somehow intersect a previously established gate route and scramble the destinations.

She sat, cross-legged, on a wide, flat stone. The stone broke the surface of a pool at the base of a waterfall. Both her loose cotton clothing and long red hair were damp from the spray and clung to her form. She considered it to be her stone, her pool, and, most importantly, her waterfall. She felt she had a tenuous claim to the small caves behind the waterfall, as well, but that was only because she happened to live in them. Travellers were rare, as her world was not only out of the way, but actually hidden. No ship could fly there, and no path could be found or traced through the Outside. All things considered, it was a very peaceful and quiet world. It was the quiet she enjoyed the most, as it would let her think. Nobody ever interrupted her as she contemplated the mysteries of existence. This was important, as there seemed to be a formidable amount of mysteries to be contemplated.

It was chance that brought her to this quiet world. When she was young, she was possessed by an insatiable curiosity. This first led her to study science, so that she could learn how the universe and everything in it functioned. Science, however, proved too limiting for her. It didn’t seek to explain enough. So, midway into her second decade of life, she retreated into one of the monastic orders of her homeworld. This suited her more, as the new focus of her life became meditation and contemplation. One thing displeased her, though, and that was the interference of other people. She didn’t dislike other people, but when they intruded on her life too often, she found she couldn’t properly contemplate. As such, when a traveller came to her world and offered to show her a new world, one where she could remain interrupted, she took it. She never knew how the traveller knew what she wanted, but it seemed prudent not to turn down such an opportunity.

Her life was a simple one. In the morning, sunlight would shine directly into the cave she slept in, the refraction from the waterfall creating ever-shifting crystalline patterns of light. This abrupt change from cool darkness to warm brilliance inevitably awoke her, and she dressed in her simple cotton clothing, braided her long red hair, and went out into the world. First she would eat, and then she would swim. After these activities were completed, she would unbraid her hair and sit on her stone to contemplate. After her contemplation she would swim again, eat once more, and then retire into her cave to sleep. It was a simple life, but a life that pleased her. Food was easy to come by in the nearby forests, and so she didn’t bother trying to hunt for meat. It gave her more time in the day, not having to spend so much effort on the needless complications of diet.

It was after her evening swim, having just dressed but not yet decided what to eat, that her simple life was disrupted. At first, she felt only a slight perturbation, like a hum that was too low to hear but vibrated deep in her bones. It only took a moment before that feeling progressed into an itching sensation that lingered just beyond her reach. As she turned, slowly, seeking the cause of these feelings, a wave of dizziness and nausea washed over her. Her quiet, peaceful world had been wounded. Another person had somehow violently made entry into her world. She found herself on hands and knees, gazing into her own reflection at the edge of her pool. From a few meters behind her she could hear a voice speaking in an almost-familiar language. It sounded frustrated.

The scout found himself amidst crystalline pillars. It took a few moments to realise that they must be what served for trees in the world he found himself on. Closer inspection revealed they were not entirely inorganic, and blended some form of stone or crystal with a woody, living fibre. He turned in a slow circle, taking in the view of this world. The main reason he was a scout was to have the opportunity to see new and interesting places. Sometimes it could be dangerous, but he’d had quite a bit of survival and combat training from his Order, and he felt he was well-prepared to deal with most of the hazards a world could present. He was not, however, prepared to find that the gate he had come through was no longer present. He swore, loudly and vehemently, before deciding on a new course of action. With any luck, there were people here.

She stood, waiting, as footsteps approached her from the forest. It had been some time since she had guests. If this one hadn’t made such a painful entry into her home, she might even look forward to its arrival. She stepped back, to stand ankle-deep in her pool, so that she could maintain a modicum of safety. If she was in her pool, she could surely escape before the person brought her any harm.

A few moments of waiting brought to her the other person, who had somehow torn his way into her quiet, peaceful home. He was tall, over half a foot taller than her. He dressed in loose clothing, which tightened around his wrists and ankles. Black boots adorned his feet, and short silver hair lay tousled upon his head. He seemed, at first, very slightly startled to see her, but that expression quickly changed into one of relief. He stopped, pulled his right sleeve up to his elbow, and raised his fist. It must have been some form of greeting. He spoke, again in that almost-familiar language. She shook her head, trying to convey that she didn’t understand. He seemed to pick up on her meaning, as he just nodded and sat on the ground in front of her. It was odd, the way he looked up at her, as though he was expecting something.

“Kirya,” she said. That was her name, and she indicated such by placing a hand on her chest. The man just nodded again.

The scout couldn’t quite make out the species of the girl that stood before him. She surely wasn’t Aldrin, as was partly evidenced by his people having never been to this planet before. Her red hair caused him to briefly contemplate that she was from Ignus, as he had heard that the strangely luminous hair of those people was primarily a male trait. The fact that she stood ankle-deep in the water with no apparent discomfort ruled out that possibility, however. It probably didn’t matter too much. He could, perhaps, learn about her people if he was stuck here long enough.

The scout had a talent for languages. He could learn a new language in a fairly short period of time, as far as languages were concerned. If all went well, they would send ships looking for him, and he would be rescued in a few weeks. That could, though, be enough time to learn the basics of communication. The trick was to get her to talk to him, even though she must realise he couldn’t understand her. It usually wasn’t particularly difficult. Most natives he met were interested in learning from him; they at least wanted to know where he came from and why. As such, they tended to try to teach him their language of their own volition. It was a rare world on which he had to charm the natives into speaking with him.

She gave him her name, which was a start. Perhaps a premise of shared activity would make her more conversational. He stood, and placed a hand on his stomach before turning to look into the forest. He looked back at the girl and raised one eyebrow. She smiled and pointed in the direction the sun was setting, before heading into the forest. Having successfully conveyed the idea that he was hungry and that they should look for food, he followed her. She spoke, as they walked, pointing at various things around them. Presumably she was naming the various plants and occasional animals. It sounded like she was also giving a short description of them. That was helpful.

It was odd, this man. Though she was initially wary of him, something about his demeanour put Kirya at ease. He clearly didn’t mean her or her home any harm. Though he probably couldn’t understand her, she described to him various aspects of her world as they walked. If she spoke to him enough, hopefully he would learn at least a few of the words in her language. Given time, he should understand enough that the two of them could speak, if only in a basic manner. She stopped, eventually, to get some large fruits from one of the crystalline trees. They hung a few feet out of her reach, and usually it wasn’t any trouble for her to climb up and get one. She thought, though, that perhaps her guest could get them down for her. She pointed up at the oddly-shaped fruit and asked him to do so. He looked at her, then at the fruit. After a moment of contemplation, likely trying to interpret her desires, he leapt up and pulled two of the fruits down – one for her, and one for himself.

The scout looked up at the fruits dubiously. Given the partially inorganic nature of the tree they grew on, he wasn’t entirely sure if they were edible. He gave Kirya an appraising gaze. She looked like she was built in the same basic way he was, although he still wasn’t sure of her species. If she could eat these, he probably could as well. Taking this opportunity to show off a little, he jumped up to pull down two of the fruits, landing silently and handing a fruit to her.

Kirya’s life was different with the scout around. She still slept in her cave, although he did not. She wasn’t sure what he did during the night, but before she went to sleep he sat outside, gazing up at the stars. Maybe he did that all night long. In the morning when she emerged the scout seemed to be practicing some form of combat drill, his right hand glowing faintly silver. He never continued very long after her awakening, though. While she swam, he went into the forest and collected food for them. He apparently made it a point to be elsewhere when she was swimming, as he did the same thing during her evening swim. In between her swims, Kirya spoke to the scout. She talked a lot, on a wide variety of topics. He made no attempt to speak to her, instead just listening. Through listening to her he would gain an understanding of her language, and one day he would engage her in conversation. But not yet. As the days passed, they grew closer. Though they couldn’t communicate, the scout seemed very playful. He seemed fond of a game where he would disappear, and Kirya would go looking for him. He was apparently excellent at stealth, as he would reappear behind her with a whispered phrase that was surely teasing her. They would spend over two weeks in this routine.

One day, some time in the third week, the scout did not stop his combat drill when Kirya emerged. She approached him, feeling that is what he wanted. When she was close, he stopped his drill. The silver glow on his right hand faded.

“You want to know where I’m from,” he said, clearly understandable but with a lilting accent.

Kirya was a little startled by his sudden speech, but said, “Yes.”

He didn’t know her language well enough to explain the mechanics of gating. He wasn’t even sure how to describe his view of the universe to her. “I live on a different world,” is what he did say. “There are… holes between worlds that let my people travel between them.”

She turned away from him. Had he said something wrong?

Kirya turned away from the scout, taking a few steps along the beach. He shouldn’t have been able to do what he said he did. Her world was protected. No path could be found to it through the Outside. And yet… if he had, that would explain the feeling before he arrived. Were his people so potent that they could, even for a moment, break through such protections? And if they could do it once, could they do it again? Would more people come looking for the scout?

She looked back at him. He never tried to hurt her. He never tried to bring any wrongdoing to her world.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“Exploring,” he said.

It would have been inefficient to use gates all the time. For movements of large groups of people, among other situations, it was still easier to use ships. In a further display of scientific ingenuity, the Aldrin modified the gate system so that ships could gate, as well. Most people preferred to walk through the landbound gates, but the gating ability of ships was still used fairly extensively, especially by the military.

The ships that were sent to locate the scout couldn’t find the world the gate was supposed to lead to. Even though all the spatial equations and calculations indicated a planet was located at those coordinates, the ships could only find empty space. A further analysis of the gate data indicated that the endpoint fluctuated slightly throughout the day it was left open. Gate technicians and dimensional specialists spent a few days debating and hypothesising about what this could mean. The conclusion they arrived at was that the world was somehow shielded from intrusion. Ships couldn’t fly to it, and gates wouldn’t stick to it. The most likely scenario, then, was that the gate opened at the proper destination, and the scout walked through. Shortly afterwards, the gate’s endpoint started shifting around, not returning to its intended destination. Thus, the scout was stranded. If they opened the gate again, they estimated that it would stay at the proper location for approximately a minute before moving. With luck, the scout would be nearby when they opened it.

“Will there be others?” the girl asked.

“Not likely, as I seem to be stuck here,” the scout said. “Does that worry you?”

She nodded. “It’s quiet here. I like it that way.”

The scout stepped forward and took her hands in his own. “I can help keep it that way.” His gaze strayed up to the sky. “Until I leave.”

She shook her head. “If you leave, others will know. They’ll come.”

The scout looked like he was about to speak, when a frown creased his brow. At the same time, Kirya’s eyes unfocused, and her knees weakened. Had the scout not put his arms around her, she would have fallen to the ground.

“It’s here again,” she mumbled.

“I can go home,” the scout said. He hadn’t entirely figured out a word in her language for “gate”.

Kirya shook her head weakly. “They’ll know. They’ll come.”

“They won’t,” the scout said, using the tone of voice he used whenever he needed to sound completely confident about something. “I won’t tell them about you.”

She stood up on her toes, the initial wave of dizziness passing, to kiss the scout on his cheek. “Goodbye, then.”

He didn’t say goodbye. He just nodded at her, smiling reassuringly, and walked into the woods.

That day, she had trouble contemplating the mysteries of existence. The silver-haired scout lingered in her mind. That night, she had trouble sleeping. He was taken from her so suddenly, just when they started to be able to talk to each other. A traveller like that surely had seen hundreds of worlds. She could have learned a lot from him. If she could have learned only one thing, though, she wished she had learned his name.