“Well, dear. It’s my turn to cook tonight, so I’ll love you and leave you. Just don’t expect anything fancy for dinner.” Liz levered herself to her feet.
Ricardo picked up the crate Kali had been sitting on and carried it away. Catalina looked at the other one. How heavy was it? Should she try to pick it up? She became aware of Sam at her shoulder.
“I’ll take care of the crate. It’s empty, but we might need it again. We don’t want the caretakers clearing it away.”
“Thank you.”
Sam followed after Ricardo. After a moment of wavering, Catalina hurried to catch up. “You did well, scoring two goals.”
“Mostly luck, I think.”
“It looked like fun.”
“It was.”
Catalina studied Sam’s face in profile. White-blond hair clung to the sweat on her forehead. Her skin was flushed from the exercise. Her eyes were downcast as she concentrated on her footing, but this only drew attention to the length of her eyelashes. The firm line of Sam’s jaw had made her a convincing boy but did nothing to lessen her attractiveness as a woman.
Catalina played a bizarre, disorientating game with herself, superimposing the way Sam looked before onto how she appeared now. Both images were identical. How could they not be? And yet so very different. As with the Greek texts, interpretation involved more than simply seeing what was in front of your eyes.
“Did you enjoy watching?” Sam asked abruptly.
“It was entertaining. Had you played before?”
“Not much. Football isn’t suited to onboard ship. Balls get lost overboard.”
“Yes, I imagine so.” They walked on in silence. Catalina tried to think of something else to say. “What made you go to sea?”
“My father.”
“He wanted you to become a sailor?”
Sam laughed. “It wasn’t quite like that. Either he took me with him on his ship, or he abandoned me to fend for myself. I was a young child at the time.”
“Was he a pirate?”
“No. Pa was an honest merchant sailor, till the day he died.”
“So why did you join the crew of the Golden Goose after his death?”
“Because otherwise I’d have died as well.”
Had Sam really been faced with no other option? She will lie about everything. Alonzo’s words echoed in Catalina’s head. He was more reliable than any pirate. Catalina knew anything and everything Sam said was probably untrue. Yet this did nothing to dampen the excitement she felt, due to nothing more than walking at Sam’s side. If anything, the sense of courting danger only made it worse.
Ricardo and Sam stacked the crates in a storeroom at the communal building. A boar carcass and several brace of seabirds hung from hooks on the ceiling, and a rack of fish stood to one side. The room was surprisingly cold. Catalina’s breath formed clouds of white steam, but before she could ask about the temperature, Liz shooed them out of the kitchen area. Ricardo and Kali wandered off, arm in arm.
Catalina tried to think of an excuse to make Sam stay. She wanted to talk, with no idea what to talk about. This was not a good idea. She should leave but did not want to.
“Did you like being a sailor?”
“It was all I was used to.”
“The pirates were terrible men—evil. How could you bear living among them?”
Sam shrugged. “Some were. Most weren’t. They were much like any other crew I’ve known, except they were better treated by the captain, and there was always a chance the next day you’d either make your fortune or be killed.”
The chances Sam also had lived with. “Was it exciting?”
“Sometimes.”
“Frightening?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you miss it?”
Sam thought for a while. “No. Though it’s only been a few days.”
“True. It feels far longer.”
There were other questions Catalina wanted to ask. How had Sam managed to conceal her true sex in the confines of the ship? Was she offended at the way Catalina had spoken to her, back then? Did she want to be friends now? Could they spend more time together? What was she planning on doing after dinner? Of course, the question she should ask was, why did you threaten Alonzo with a knife? Catalina had no doubt he had been telling the truth.
“I need to go,” Sam said. “I’m sweaty after the game. I should wash before dinner. The castaways put a lot of importance on getting clean.”
“I’ve noticed.”
The stress placed on hygiene was extreme, even if the wonderful supply of hot water turned bathing into an unexpected and quite indulgent pleasure. Catalina had washed more in the previous two days than she would have in a year back in Spain.
Liz evidently overheard them and shouted from the kitchen. “You better hurry. You’ll only have time for a quick shower.”
“Right. Thanks.” Sam trotted away.
Catalina was left alone. Talking to Sam was not wise. It was not safe, or constructive, or appropriate. But it was fun. Catalina had no idea why, but it was so much fun.
Chapter Eight
The size of the Barn caught Sam by surprise. She stopped in the doorway.
“God’s blood, it’s big!” Maybe not the most original thing to say, but nothing else came to mind.
Yaraha laughed. “Do you know, that’s not so far from my own words the first time I came in here.”
“The inside can’t be bigger than the outside, can it? That would be impossible.”
“I’d warn against dismissing anything as impossible. It’s proved a fatal mistake for other castaways. But no. Like you, I wondered the same thing, so I measured it. The outside is exactly the same size, but it’s harder to judge scale without the sky over your head.”
Sam stepped forward slowly, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Would having the sun or a few clouds for comparison make any difference? “Why did the aliens need to make a building this big?”
“Why did they need to make the Isle of Broken Years at all? They’re no longer here to ask.”
Sam lowered her gaze. “You don’t use the name Atlantis. Why?”
“Because a name should mean something. What does Atlantis mean?”
“An island in the Atlantic ocean?”
“There are hundreds of such islands. Somewhere this unique deserves its own name. Time is broken here, and in turn it breaks us. Even if I choose to mock myself with childish dreams of escape, the broken years shatter any hope of returning to my family. I’ll never again see my beloved Obenayo, or my father and mother. I’ll never again hold my infant son in my arms. And even if it was possible, how could I look into their eyes, knowing what I do now? My people are doomed. Their shadows will fade from the land. Their voices will fall silent. My children, my grandchildren, might have lived out their lives. But the end is written, and my heart breaks on the story of the years unfolding.”
Yaraha’s words flowed with the rhythm of poetry. His eyes were closed, his face impassive. Sam would not have been surprised to see tears flow down his cheeks, though none came.
“Is the future really that bad for your people?”
“Yes. One of Madison’s companions—Jeff was his name. He was so proud to be one-eighth Seminole Indian. He’d made a study of the first people in the land he called Florida. Before he fell prey to the hunters, he told me many things that I cannot unhear. My people will go down in history as a vanished tribe called the Timucua. And neither he nor I had any idea what that name might mean, if anything.” Yaraha looked at her, and surprisingly, he smiled. “Come tell me. What does ‘Sam’ mean?”
“It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just my name.”
“Exactly. Names should mean something.”
“Does yours?”
“Yes. It means ‘panther.’”
“So how did your folk know whether someone was talking about you or a real panther?”
“The same way I knew you hadn’t really seen God’s blood when you walk
ed though the door.” He put his arm across her shoulder and urged her onward. “Come. I’ll show you some of the impossible things stored here.”
If she was being honest, Yaraha’s stories about the contents of the Barn were just an excuse to be there. However, since Sam could not read English, let alone Greek, asking Catalina about her work might not have been as believable.
Already, Sam had spotted her, sitting to one side of the entrance. Catalina’s head was bent over one end of a long table. She must have heard Sam and Yaraha enter but was showing no reaction, unlike the other two present. Alonzo had his arms crossed and was scowling furiously—no change there. However, Floyd smiled, got to his feet, and stretched until the muscles in his back cracked.
“You okay without me for a bit?” he asked.
“For the moment.” This time Catalina looked around. Her eyes met Sam’s and held, for the space of a heartbeat, before returning to the papers spread before her.
Floyd sauntered over. “How’s it going?” Which, Sam had learned, was his way of saying hello.
“She wanted to see the Barn.”
“You know to be careful. You don’t want to end up like poor Alice.” Floyd tilted his head in Sam’s direction. “Long time back, she was in here, digging around. Said, ‘What’s this button?’ Next moment she was nothing more than a pile of ash.”
“Really?”
“Would I lie to you?”
“Yes,” Yaraha answered for her. “You should not take everything Floyd says seriously.”
Sam had already experienced Floyd’s sense of humor. Even so, she decided to be careful about what she touched.
Floyd was clearly not at all offended. He laughed and slapped his leg. “Careful, buddy, you’ll be giving this little lady the wrong idea about me.”
Floyd was actually no taller than Sam. However, his shoulders were twice as broad, and she would have strained to touch her fingers around his biceps using both hands. His neck was nearly the same width as his bald head. He owed the muscles to an exercise routine he performed without fail every morning. Floyd had said he used to play linebacker at college, but gave no more details. Sam assumed linebacker was a game something like soccer, but requiring more in the way of arm strength.
“What were you going to show her first?” Floyd asked Yaraha.
“What do you recommend?”
Floyd grinned and pointed to a set of shelves. “It’s not the most exciting, but while we’re here, we can check out Jorge’s hoard. If ever he gets back to when he came from, he plans on being a rich man.”
“He doesn’t stop dreaming,” Yaraha said.
“Nope.”
The collection was, to Sam’s mind, an uneven mix—bowls, bracelets, coins, scrolls, and tiny statues. Some items were gold, but others were base metal or carved from stone. Taken together, they would have filled two sacks.
Sam picked up a carving of a warrior brandishing a shield and spear. “Does he think these are valuable?”
“Yes. And he’s probably right. Collectors would pay a fortune. He also has a pouch of diamonds stored somewhere,” Floyd said.
Sam replaced the figure, and Yaraha led them deeper into the Barn. He stopped by an enormous metal claw attached to the top of a thirty-foot-high gantry.
“Watch this.” Floyd picked up a black metal glove and put it on.
The claw jerked into life, swiveling in Sam’s direction. The talons opened, reaching, grasping for her, to the sound of an inhuman howl. Sam leapt back and fell, tripping over her own feet. Even as she hit the ground, she realized the claw was mimicking the movement of Floyd’s hand. The howl was the screech of metal on metal.
“It made me jump as well, first time.” Yaraha offered a hand to help her up.
“I think it needs to be oiled.” Floyd removed the glove and held it out to Sam. “Do you want to give it a try?”
“Maybe next time.” When her heart was not beating nineteen to the dozen.
A short way farther on was a bench with what looked like a row of dead spiders lying on their backs. They were the size of dinner plates. At the end of each upraised leg was a tiny windmill, similar to those on Bab’s seaplane.
Yaraha took down a box from the shelf above. “What did Madison call this? A drain?”
“Something like that,” Floyd agreed.
The box made Sam think of the Okeechobee Dawn cockpit, set with levers, dials, and buttons. Yaraha flicked a switch with his thumb. Immediately, one set of windmills turned into a blur. The drain rose from the table and hovered in midair. The sound of humming made it seem even more like a giant insect.
Floyd nudged Sam. “Look at the screen.”
He pointed to a rectangle of black glass standing on a nearby easel. This had also come to life, showing a moving picture, the drain’s-eye view of the world.
The drain zipped across the Barn, turning the display into a dizzying whirl. When the picture settled, there was Catalina’s face, filling the screen. She tilted her head to one side and gave a confused half smile, then twisted in her seat to look over at them. Sam wondered whether she should wave or apologize for disturbing Catalina’s work, although it had been all Yaraha’s doing. Meanwhile, the screen now showed her left ear.
The drain shot along the table to hover in front of Alonzo, who merely scowled.
“Careful, buddy. You don’t want to crack the glass, pulling a face like that,” Floyd called out, laughing.
Alonzo took himself far too seriously. Would it be worth letting him know he was not the only man in Atlantis who preferred other men? Not that Sam could imagine anything happening between the two. Apart from their choice of bedfellow, they had nothing in common. Floyd was friendly and outgoing, and Alonzo was not.
Yaraha brought the drain back and passed the control box to Sam. After crashing it four times, she finally got the drain to hover.
“Why’s it called a drain?” Sam asked. Did this name mean anything?
“You’ll have to ask Madison.”
They put it back with the others and were about to move on when Catalina called out, “Floyd, can you have a look at this for me?”
“Sure thing, honey.” Floyd touched his forefinger to his eyebrow and flicked it in Sam’s direction, his way of saying good-bye.
The tour continued without him. Yaraha pointed out a set of contraptions that could repair and inflate the Inflatable if it suffered a leak. A mechanical head, a rack of swords sharper than Sam would have believed possible, a life-sized model of a puffed up man with a bowl on his head, children’s toys, half-assembled tools. The contents of the Barn stretched away into the distance. It would take months to see it all.
Several times Sam caught Catalina looking their way. Were they disrupting her work? She was about to suggest they leave the rest of the Barn for another day when Yaraha picked up an oval board, a yard in length.
“How good is your sense of balance?”
“Pretty good, I think. Why?”
“You should try this. But it would be better if we go outside. The grass will be softer if you fall off.”
“Falling off shouldn’t be a problem, as long as you don’t expect me to balance on it edgewise.” A thought struck her. “Or does it move?”
“Oh my word, yes, as Horatio would say.” Yaraha started for the exit.
Sam hurried to catch up. “You speak English well.”
“Thank you. Piracola and I have lived here eleven years, and we’ve had good teachers, even if they can’t agree on what certain words mean. I’ve found it wisest to avoid using bum and fanny.”
As they passed the table, Catalina looked up. “Are you going?” She did not sound impatient or irritated, despite Sam’s earlier doubts.
“For now,” Yaraha said. “Have you learned much from this writing?”
Floyd cut in, before Catalina had a chance to reply. “That those old Greeks sure had a way with words. Never use three where you can squeeze in sixteen.” He nodded at the object in Yaraha’s ha
nds. “You’re giving Sam a go on the hoverboard?”
“Yes. Do you want to come to watch?”
“It’s up to the lady.” He smiled at Catalina.
“You can come too.” Sam spoke on impulse.
Alonzo did not give her a chance to answer. “Doña Catalina has important work to do. She does not wish to be taken away from it.”
You could let her speak for herself. Sam bit back the words.
“Alonzo’s right. I need to concentrate.”
“Right. Well. Another time then.”
“Another time.” Catalina gave a warm smile. “Maybe you can show me later.”
Sam felt the air leave her lungs. She braced one hand on the table until she felt steady enough to walk. How could one smile affect her like that?
“Come on. We’ll find a good spot, well away from the water. We don’t want you falling in.” Yaraha walked away.
Sam followed but stopped by the doorway to look back. Catalina had returned to work and was pointing something out to Floyd. At the end of the bench, Alonzo was glaring at Sam with pure, undisguised hatred. It was just as well looks could not kill. Sam was sure he had a private name for her, complete with meaning.
* * *
The caretaker appeared out of nowhere, racing along the path. Sam barely avoided tripping over it. Her foot came down awkwardly, twisting her ankle. She did not hold back from letting the bio-robot know exactly what she thought of it, using one of her more exotic phrases.
A ripple of laughter came from the other side of a large bush. “Where did you learn such language? I’m shocked.”
Sam hobbled forward. Kali was sitting on a crate in the shade.
“Sorry.”
“I hope you don’t teach words like that to my child.”
Sam felt her cheeks burn. Her embarrassment was increased to see Catalina also present. Was there any risk she would understand as well? Fortunately, Catalina was looking at her with nothing but surprise. As ever, Alonzo was close at hand, although he was currently stretched out on the grass, taking an after-lunch nap.
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