by Cally Black
‘Everyone is hurting. There’s not enough food. The price has gone up, cos the phosphorous that does get past these Vultures is mostly promised to Earth. That’s where the big money is, the billions of rich people relying on space phosphorous there. Food production units out here are suffering.’
That sets me wondering about little Gub. If he’s alive still, is someone giving him enough food? Do they cut it small enough for him? Do they care that beans make his stomach hurt? Or was it corn? I should know. Why don’t I know anymore?
I’m blinking when I turn back to Tootoopne to translate. ‘She says there is not much food cos the big human who owns the shipping cannot get enough minerals past the hives. If Antonee does not send money, her children will starve.’
Tootoopne takes two steps and belts Captain James across the side of the head, me stepping forwards to stop her if she’s gonna kill him. She can’t kill him till I know about Gub.
‘It is not the fault of the Garuwa if your hive has no care for your children,’ she whistles. ‘Why did you not find a better hive to leave them in?’
I translate and Captain James straightens against the wall, rubbing the side of his face. ‘Tell her majesty, I don’t have wings. I don’t have my own ship. I can’t just fly them anywhere. It costs money to move.’
Tootoopne stares at me as I translate. She paces up and down the washroom. Then she stops. ‘So nonee tells them where they live, if they eat, what work to do?’
I nod.
Tootoopne tilts her head at the captain as if she suddenly understands. ‘I’m right! Antonee is a slave to nonee!’
I repeat it to the captain, who throws up his free hand and rolls his eyes. ‘Of course I am. Every human is born into slavery and only one thing can set them free. Money. Lots of it.’
Tootoopne calms down when I tell her what the captain said. ‘I knew the human system was about slavery!’ She walks away, head down, then walks back. ‘Ask her how I can get some nonee.’
I don’t see the point but I ask anyway.
The captain laughs. He throws back his head and hoots like he’s watching the funniest movie ever. Maybe he’s cracked it.
Tootoopne steps towards him like she might hit him again. ‘Captain, please?’ I say.
The captain sucks in a big breath and changes his face to something I can’t read, like maybe he’s explaining something to a child. ‘It’s so easy,’ he says, running his free hand over his sweaty bald head. ‘All your Vulture here has to do is provide safe passage for the freighters, through to the mining outposts beyond, and the shipping companies will give her loads of money.’
WA TOSANE
(THE THIRTY)
I tell Tootoopne, and she sha, sha shas softly and drags me out of the washroom, never mind I haven’t asked the captain the one question I need answered.
Tootoopne points to a shelf in her wall and says, ‘Get her food and water.’
I smile, hardly believing the captain gets to live. I scrabble through snack foods, many of them straight from freighters, picking out treats. I fill a bowl and go back into the washroom.
The captain has sunk to the floor, head down.
‘Captain James?’ I say. ‘Are you hungry?’
He looks up at me. His eyes are glassy and rimmed pink. ‘What’s your name?’ he asks.
‘Weku,’ I say. Screaming life into the universe. Or speaking for this man so he can keep living a while longer.
‘Weku, tell me, girl. What will she do with me?’ he asks.
I shake my head. ‘I never can tell what she’s thinking.’ I push the snack food across the floor to his free hand, fill the bowl with water and bring it back to him.
‘Are you her slave?’ he asks.
I shake my head. Then I say, ‘Maybe. I just do what she tells me.’
He sighs. ‘I’m a captain. I can’t be a Vulture’s slave.’
‘She wants to know about humans, that’s all.’ I shrug. ‘You know things about shipping and money that I don’t.’
He screws his lips to one side. ‘But what will she do with that information? And what will she do with me?’
I shrug again, open one of the packets and try a snack biscuit from it, salty-sweet. ‘What did Starweaver do with you?’ I whisper and offer him the rest.
The captain huffs. ‘Where did you come from?’ he asks, ignoring the snacks.
‘Starweaver Layla,’ I say, and my chest starts up thumping at getting to find out about Gub. ‘Did you hear about any other survivors from the Layla? A baby?’
He shakes his head and my heart drops.
‘Once they hit a ship, they pick its bones. I doubt anyone else survived.’
I swallow. He doubts it, but he don’t know for sure. He don’t know, that’s all. So maybe Gub’s alive still. Maybe. I blink the damp from my eyes.
‘How long have you been here?’ he asks.
The answer is, ‘too long’. Too long away from my little Tamiki. Too long not knowing if he’s okay. I squash the little dinosaur hidden in my pocket against my thigh. ‘Listen,’ I say. ‘She don’t like your voice. It’s too low. Don’t yell no more. There’s other Garuwa would kill you if they found you. You have to stay secret.’
He nods.
‘My squad, in these jackets, do what Tootoopne says.’ I shake my collar to show him the jacket. ‘As long as Tootoopne wants, they will keep you safe. Do what they tell you. I told Tootoopne your name was Antonee cos she can’t get her tongue around James. If she says your name, bob your head and squeak “Tootoopne” or try to whistle it. If you need water, the word is “Twa”.’ I stand up.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To find out what I should be telling you,’ I say.
‘Thank you, girl,’ he says. ‘I don’t want to die. Tell her I can help her get money from the shipping company.’
I head back out to Tootoopne’s office, salute and stand to the side, keeping my eyes from the cabinet of hands.
‘What have you told her?’ Tootoopne demands.
‘I told her to be quiet and how to ask for water,’ I say.
‘You can teach her to speak?’ Tootoopne asks.
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘She says she can help you get money.’
Tootoopne tilts her head. ‘She would turn on her masters?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘The big humans sent her to die.’
Tootoopne bobs her head slowly. ‘If I had a lot of nonee, I could make the humans give me the minerals our hives need?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘They will bring them to you.’
‘Teach her to speak!’ Tootoopne orders.
I salute. ‘Will she live in your washroom?’
Tootoopne stands up. ‘If she wants better conditions, she will learn the words. Thirty every day. If I don’t hear thirty I will make things worse. If she learns good I will make things better.’
I salute. At least I won’t have to watch Captain James die any time soon. I go back to the washroom and explain Tootoopne’s deal.
‘Do you have any idea how hard that is for me, girl?’ he asks. ‘My brain is old and set in its ways. Can you negotiate her down to ten maybe?’
I drop to my knees beside him and stare at the floor. ‘Captain James,’ I whisper. ‘I’ve seen so many captains die. This is your only chance.’
WOELLE DEE
(GOOD TEACHING)
He’s right. He don’t learn fast. It takes us all day to get through thirty simple words. ‘Yes’ and ‘no’, and parts of the body and things in the washroom.
I fetch him another bowl of water, cos he says whistling is hard on dry old lips. When he’s slurping it down, I ask again, ‘Are you sure no-one rescued a baby boy from the wreck of the Layla?’
‘A baby?’ He licks the water off the corners of his mouth. ‘Was your brother on the Layla too?’
‘My cousin,’ I say. ‘Tamiki.’
The captain looks at me, thinking. ‘Well, you know, I heard that one guy survived by hiding under a spar
e rocket cone.’ Then he squints and shakes his head. ‘But I’ve never heard of a baby being found, not that that means anything. Babies are certainly easier to hide than great lumps of mechanics.’ He shakes his head. ‘I wish my memory was better to tell you something useful, kid.’
I say about how I hid Gub in the kitchen storeroom and how Lazella raised us to be real quiet. ‘How long do you think a baby could survive in there, alone?’ I ask.
The captain nods his head slowly. ‘A long time, I’d say,’ he says. ‘Something so tiny with that much food. A long time.’
‘And how long before the ship got towed back to Dios for repairs?’ I ask.
‘Oh, they’d pick it right up. Probably within the week, and check for survivors then.’
I start to count up how much food and drink I remember scattered round the floor, cos even though the captain is just saying what I want to hear, I still reckon it was a lot of food for a tiny kid like Gub, not used to big meals. Plenty enough for a week. But then Tootoopne comes in. I jump up and salute.
‘Weku, Antonee,’ Tootoopne bobs her head.
Captain James stands up and bobs his head too. ‘Tootoopne!’ he whistles clumsily.
‘Make her say her words,’ Tootoopne says.
I nod at the captain and he rattles off twenty words quickly, then slows, finds a few more, stops, then finds a few more. Finally, he gets to thirty.
Tootoopne bobs her head. ‘Good teaching, Weku,’ she says as she leaves.
I hang with the captain a while longer, happy that Tootoopne has a new job for me. Maybe this means no more raids. Maybe I’ve taught her something after all.
Tweetoo comes. She has a proper meal and a blanket for the captain.
‘This is Antonee,’ I tell Tweetoo. ‘Captain, bob your head and say hello to Tweetoo.’
The captain does and Tweetoo tilts her head and gives him an eye-off, bottom to top. I guess she’s gonna take a while to trust another human.
I hand the captain the food and fill up his water bowl. ‘You have to be quiet, remember.’
The captain nods. ‘I hear you, girl.’
Tweetoo tugs my jacket. ‘Come on, Weku, my sister. You’re keeping me from my meal.’
I follow her. Sister? She called me sister? I have a sister in the squad, and I’ve stopped a captain from dying. I am making a difference.
‘Girly? You’ll come back?’ Captain James yells.
‘With thirty new words tomorrow, Captain,’ I call.
SOOLWO TOSONOO TA
(WORDS WILL KEEP ME PRISONER)
Wooloo brings me back the next day, and never mind the captain has already forgotten fifteen words, we struggle through thirty new ones. At the end of a long day sitting on the floor, I teach him how to start putting words together so he can make sentences.
Captain James works real hard on getting the whistles right, using his tongue to stop and start and shape the words. His voice is too low to cheat-squeak his way through the difficult words like me.
When Tootoopne comes to listen, the captain murders one word so badly that Tootoopne rejects it and the captain has to come up with another word. He chooses one of the joining words I just taught him. Tootoopne bobs her head, and Wooloo arrives with a cuff with a longer cord, and a meal. She holds her claw against the washroom wall until the hive moulds out a short bed with a soft spongy layer on top.
The captain lies down and stretches. ‘My old bones thank you,’ the captain says to Wooloo, and I translate.
Wooloo bobs her head.
‘We need to write these words down, girly, so I can practise them when you’re not here,’ the captain says.
I can read, at least, words I know, signs and things, but I never did much writing. ‘How will you write whistles?’ I ask.
‘I’ll figure out a way. Find me something to write with.’
I go out and ask Tootoopne.
‘She makes pictures?’ Tootoopne asks. Maybe Garuwa don’t do much writing either.
‘She draws the words,’ I say.
She hands me something black that looks like a crayon but smells chemical. ‘Tell her to write on the walls and floor, because the words keep her prisoner and she will not be coming out until she learns them all,’ Tootoopne whistles.
I bob my head and go hand the crayon to the captain and tell him what Tootoopne said.
‘Ha! I’m beginning to like that Vulture,’ the captain says. He mutters, ‘Words will keep me prisoner,’ and he whistles his new words as he writes on the wall.
The next day the captain stuffs up two of his words, never mind they’re scrawled on the wall, and loses his bed. I leave him sitting on the floor with only a snack bar for dinner.
When I go back out to Wooloo on the landing for my ride back to the squad, she tilts her head. ‘Tootoopne says you can stay here tonight because you failed.’
‘But I didn’t fail. Antonee failed!’ I whistle.
Wooloo runs her claws through my hair. ‘Try not to make a mess,’ she says, and turns and plunges away.
TU TAOLALA!
(YOU STUPID!)
I stomp back to Captain James and whistle at him in Garuwa. ‘You stupid! Why didn’t you learn fast? Now I’m stuck here.’
‘Weku, my girl, calm down,’ he says. ‘Speak English.’
‘I’m not your girl,’ I say. ‘Never mind you’re the one who made a shit of it, I have to hang here all night with no dinner and no bed.’
‘Well, I’m sorry. I did the best I could. I’ve been electrocuted on the way into this place, tied to a wall for four days, beaten around the head, starved, terrified and left to piss down a drain. That I got to twenty-eight words was a miracle for an old man like me.’
‘You have to try harder!’ I yell.
Captain James sighs. ‘Yoisho. Don’t be angry at me, Weku. Please? I’ll be glad for the company.’
I slide down the opposite wall and sit there with my back against it, burning at the old man, burning at being left behind by Wooloo.
‘Do you get lonely here, Weku?’ he asks.
I glance at him through my eyebrows. ‘I have the squad.’
‘No, I mean lonely as in you miss humans. You miss speaking to people who understand you,’ he says.
‘I lived my whole life as a stowaway on ships. They only spoke to me to chase me off,’ I grumble.
‘Really? Your whole life in hiding?’ he asks. ‘You and your little cousin?’
I shrug, cos I don’t want to talk about it.
The captain nods along like he understands. ‘And now, for the first time, you’re part of something.’
‘I know I’m not meant to be here. And there’s plenty Garuwa that don’t want me here, but they like me, the squad. Some of them call me “sister”.’
‘Oh, girly.’ The captain shakes his head.
‘My name’s Weku.’
‘I worry for you, kid,’ he says softly. ‘I have a grandkid your age. You should be living in a family.’
‘I can’t,’ I snap, cos I’d take that option any day for me and Gub, but there’s no way I’m ever gonna be in the kind of family the captain’s talking about. Sixers don’t know what it’s like for kids like me. ‘For now, I have the squad,’ I say.
Antonee nods. ‘That’s not a family. Maybe they’re nice to you, but if they were ordered to lock you up, or sell you to a zoo, they would.’
‘They wouldn’t!’ I shout. I bury my face in my knees. They would. Never mind how much they like me, they do whatever Tootoopne tells them.
‘Don’t be angry with me. If I could get us both out of here right now, I would. I’d take you back to live with my family.’ The captain lowers himself to the floor opposite. He don’t know he’s talking about impossible things.
Never mind how hard I work to teach him the words, I work even harder not to like him, cos captains die. Captains always die.
‘You save my life daily, kid,’ he says. ‘You put in so much to teach me the thirty.’
&n
bsp; ‘I do it cos Tootoopne tells me,’ I say.
The captain nods. ‘But you do it like you care. When I feel like giving up, you’re there telling me to keep going. You. Not Tootoopne.’
I wipe the hair from my face.
He crosses his ankles in front of him and wraps his arms around his knees. ‘I want to be your friend. Your family for as long as we’re both here and alive. Okay?’ His old hazel eyes stare right into mine.
‘And if you caught me stealing food on your ship?’ I ask.
‘I won’t lie. When I was a younger man, I would’ve locked you up, but the last few years?’ Antonee shakes his head. ‘No. I don’t lock up kids, especially for only stealing food. I would’ve found you a job.’
That was all I ever wanted back then. ‘I’m sorry I got mad,’ I say.
‘No problem, kid. That’s family for you. Always arguing.’ He winks, like being family is our secret.
Probably it should stay a secret to my heart. Keep him out of it. But I can’t help liking him, the way he’s sitting over there, a rock of calm, even though he’s lost everything, ready to take me in.
I slide closer across the floor and ask him about his real family. A daughter and two grandsons. I ask him all about the kid who’s my age and the things he does, and where he lives. I try to imagine me living a life like that boy, with a mother and maybe a returned grandpa to take care of me, a normal life. But I can’t. I couldn’t belong there any more than I could grow a pair of wings to fit in here.
He breaks his snack bar in half, gives one piece to me, and asks me about Tamiki. I tell him about his soft brown eyes and wispy hair, and how I kiss his little palm at night and call him Gub. I try to talk Gub back to me, never mind I can’t remember the feel of my lips pressing into his little palm no more, or that he seems so far away from me, he might not even exist. I don’t wanna think about that. I can’t. Instead, I hold up Headless. ‘I’m gonna give this back to him when I find him.’
‘I’m sure you will, girly,’ he says, and winks at me like I’m full of surprises.