Isle of Broken Years

by Jane Fletcher

  “So you’ll force us all to stay here and rot?” Jorge was equally passionate on the other side. “What do you think, Piracola? Come on, say something. Don’t just sit there.” He nudged him.

  “I agree with you.”

  “Of course he agrees with you. It’s all he ever does.” Babs was dismissive. “So, Cat? How about you? You’re playing it quiet as well.”

  It was just as well Catalina did not mind her name being shortened, since everyone, apart from Sam, was doing it. What did that imply about the way Sam saw her?

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on.” Jorge turned to her. “You must have an opinion. What does your gut say? What does your heart say?”

  I’d rather be talking to Sam. She glanced around the lawn. Sam was not in sight. Catalina returned to the ring of waiting faces—except Piracola was not looking at her. He was staring at the ground, his face showing confusion and sorrow.

  “Is there something you want to say, Piracola?”

  “He’ll—”

  Catalina held up a hand to cut Babs off. “Please, let him speak.”

  “It is only, none of you have lost family.” Catalina said nothing, although Alonzo came to mind. He meant as much to her as her father ever had. “There were eight in the canoe, when we landed. Now it is just Yaraha and myself. My two brothers, Arach—” Piracola broke off, shaking his head. “They are gone. I know if I leave here all our people will have gone also, but the land remains. I want to go home, to stand on our land and sing the song of my brothers, so the trees and the earth and the sky will remember them. I want to go home.”

  “Do you think Yaraha feels the same?” Babs asked.

  “You should ask him, but I’d be surprised if he votes to leave. Yaraha is of my people, but he was the son of a chief, and I’m not. He doesn’t always see things the same as me. I lost my brothers, but he casts his net wider. I would have tried to return before now, but he chose to stay, and I couldn’t paddle the whole way on my own.”

  “Supposing your name doesn’t get pulled out of the hat?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jorge answered. “Babs means, supposing you aren’t one of the lucky ones who gets a place on her seaplane? Supposing you get left behind?”

  “Then I’ll take the Inflatable and try to go home that way. It will no longer be needed here.”

  “Even the Inflatable won’t be able to battle the undertow when the island sinks.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “It’s a good guess.”

  An idea struck Catalina. “Except once the Minotaur is dealt with, there’s no reason why some can’t leave on the Inflatable and get clear before Liz resets the caretakers.”

  Jorge frowned. “But we won’t know what the date is. If Liz is right, when the caretakers do the repairs, Atlantis will make one last jump to 2025, and then the spaceship will disengage and leave. But the Inflatable would have to set off beforehand, so we’ll have no idea what year it will be in the outside world.”

  “It makes no difference to me,” Piracola said. “The land will always be there.”

  “It makes a difference to me.”

  “Why are you arguing against him, Jorge?” Babs said. “I’d have thought it strengthened your side. You must have given some thought to what happens to you if you don’t draw a spot on the Okeechobee Dawn.”

  “Is that your problem? Is that why you’re so set against going? You’re frightened of being left behind?”

  “Of course not. I’m the one person who has to be on board. The Okeechobee Dawn won’t fly itself.”

  “Couldn’t Charles do it?”

  “In a pinch, maybe. If you want to take the risk.”

  “In a pinch? I thought he taught you to fly.”

  “That was years ago.”

  “And he’s forgotten how to in the meantime?”

  “No. But his eyesight is poor. The glasses he’s wearing aren’t his. They’re a pair he found lying around in the Barn. His own got trodden on by accident, not long after we got here. He wasn’t just mucking about when he was refereeing the football match. He couldn’t see half of what went on.”

  “So you’re worried it’s Charles who won’t draw a place on the plane?” Jorge said.

  Babs’s face hardened. “No. Because if Charles isn’t on the plane, I don’t care how the vote goes, we aren’t leaving.”

  “You don’t get a veto.”

  She stood and glared down at Jorge. “Yes, I do. I won’t leave Charles behind. It’s my fault he’s here to start with.”

  Jorge watched her stalk away. “Ah. She’ll change her mind. You’ll see.”

  Catalina was not so sure.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe you’re saying that. Listen to yourself!”

  Catalina caught the words of a heated argument as soon as she opened the door. Kali and Ricardo sat glaring at each other. Now that the tower was available as a sanctuary, Liz had shared her fears about the caretakers, and Kali and Ricardo had immediately moved to the accommodation there, although they returned to the settlement for meals.

  Both looked around at the sound of the door. Confronted by two angry faces, Catalina considered making a quick retreat, although that might make things more, rather than less, awkward.

  “I’ve just come to get a drink of water.” This had the advantage of being the truth. Catalina was in the middle of trying out a recently discovered key code on the foyer map to see if it gave access to anywhere new. “I’ll be out of your way in a moment.”

  “No. Come in, sit down.” Ricardo beckoned her forward. “Help me talk sense into this crazy woman here.”

  “I’m not crazy.”

  “I need to get back to my work.” Catalina did not want to get drawn into whatever the argument was about.

  “She will not listen to me. See what you can do.”

  “It’s you who are not listening.” Kali turned to Catalina. “He has this idea he’ll volunteer not to go on the Okeechobee Dawn with the condition that I am promised a place.”

  “It’s not just you. It’s our child.”

  “Our child will want a father. Wherever you go, I will go with you. Do you not understand me? I’ve chosen you. I will not raise our child on no more than a memory.”

  Catalina filled a cup with water. Did she want to get involved? “I was speaking to Piracola earlier. He has an idea about taking the Inflatable. Charles says the seaplane won’t need most of the fuel. In fact, they want to ditch as much weight as possible. If we put a tank of gas in the boat, it should be able to get to the mainland.”

  “I know. My brother has already spoken about it.”

  “Really? Jorge didn’t seem interested.”

  “He doesn’t want to arrive back in time because of his treasures. He wants there to be someone to sell them to.”

  “But you’re not so bothered. Kali is all you want, correct? The two of you could go together in the Inflatable.”

  Ricardo shook his head. “We don’t know how far it is to Florida, or what year it will be when we arrive. If it’s before the American Civil War, Kali would be seen as an escaped slave. She has no papers to show otherwise. It would hardly be any better for me. We’d have no rights, and neither would our child.”

  “So what do you think, Cat?” Kali asked.

  Catalina sipped the water while considering her answer. “I think Kali will be given a place on the seaplane for certain, for the sake of the baby.”

  “I won’t take it, not without my Rico.”

  “Then you should wait to have this argument until after the vote. Babs doesn’t want to go, and she may not be the only one. There’s no point upsetting each other for no reason.”

  “Yes. Always, you are the clever one, Cat. Atlantis is no place to raise a child, but better both of us here, than for me and Rico to part.” Kali leaned across the table and grasped his hands. “I’ve lost everyone I have ever loved. I will not lose you too. I cannot.
”

  * * *

  The flying platform could have done with a roof. Catalina eyed the darkening sky. Ominous clouds were moving in quickly, on a strong westerly wind. She ought to get to the Squat before they hit, but on further thought, she wished the platforms had a “go faster” switch as well. Atlantis had an invisible shield that kept damaging hurricanes out, but let lesser storms through.

  She tried to distract herself with thoughts of the upcoming vote. It was clear Jorge, Piracola, and Liz would vote to leave Atlantis. Torvold had also loudly expressed a wish to tackle the Minotaur, his desire for a pair of novelty drinking horns undimmed by the lack of beer to drink from them. On the other hand, Babs was opposed, and it looked likely that Kali would talk Ricardo into voting to stay. Yaraha, as ever, was listening to all sides, and saying little, though Piracola was sure he would not want to go. How would the rest vote?

  The first hard volley of raindrops landed just as the platform docked. Should she wait the storm out under the station roof or make a bid to reach her room? Then Catalina spotted a familiar figure, sitting on the edge of the deck and watching lightning bolts striking the horizon.

  Her pulse sped. “I do wish you wouldn’t sit there.”

  “It’s the highest viewpoint around here.”

  “It’s dangerous.”

  Sam swiveled around. “I’ve spent half my life dangling over shark-infested waters. This is no different.” But she moved away from the drop. “Happier now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Actually, I ought to be going. I’m due to cook this evening.”

  Catalina made her decision. “I’ll come with you.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  Sam trotted down the steps, leaving Catalina behind, but she stopped at the bottom. The rain was picking up.

  “We need to run.”

  Without thinking, Catalina took the hand Sam held out. The jolt as Sam set off felt as though her arm was about to be wrenched from its socket. Spanish noblewomen did not run. Catalina had seen men and even female servants run. She supposed she might have done it herself as a child, but it was unseemly for a gentlewoman. Apart from anything else, their clothing made it impossible to achieve anything more than a short burst of scurrying.

  Towed along by Sam, Catalina was permanently on the point of falling. How did you keep your feet under you? She tried lengthening her stride, and something twanged in her thigh. Her legs started to burn, her throat and lungs were raw.

  The heavens opened as they covered the last few yards to the door of the communal house. Raindrops pounded on Catalina’s head and shoulders. Sam waved open the entrance and pulled her inside.

  “There. Made it.” Sam let go of Catalina’s hand and turned to her. The smile on her face froze. “Are you all right?”

  Was she? Catalina had thought her pulse was racing when she saw Sam, but it was nothing compared to this. Her heart was beating so hard it was making her head shake. Her legs felt as though the bones in them had been replaced by jelly. She staggered to the bench but lacked the strength to climb on, and so collapsed over it, her forehead resting on her arms.

  “Catalina, what’s wrong? Are you unwell?”

  “I…I…” Each gasp rasped at her throat, but the pain was easing. Her head no longer felt as if it were about to fly off her shoulders. “I’ve never run before.”

  “Never?” Sam’s expression went from surprise to concern. “You have a problem with your health? I’m sorry. You should have said.”

  “No. It’s not my health. I’ve just never learned how.”

  Sam opened her mouth, looked confused, and closed it again.

  “I should practice. I might need to do it again sometime.” Catalina was now able to stand, with just one hand on the bench for support. She pressed the other to her chest. “Tell me, is your heart supposed to pound like this?”

  “Depends how far you run.”

  “You don’t look as if you are having trouble.”

  “It gets easier with practice. You need to build up to it. Would you like me to get you a drink of water?”

  Catalina took her hand from the bench. Her body was returning to normal. “It’s all right. I can get one for myself.”

  “Right, ’cause I need to start on the food.”

  Catalina followed Sam into the kitchen. Cooking was something else she had never done. Although dinner duties were on a roster, Catalina had been excused, on account of the work she was doing with the Greek texts. Perhaps this was another skill worth practicing. She could start by watching Sam, which was an enjoyable activity in its own right.

  “Are you all right now?” Sam looked over her shoulder.

  “Yes, thank you. Much better. I was watching what you were doing. I should take my turn at cooking sometime.”

  “In that case, don’t watch me. I’m not the best cook here. Try Jorge or Yaraha.”

  “They might be a bit daunting. You don’t mind me watching, do you?”

  “No.” Sam turned back to her work.

  I told him I was the same as him. That when it came to lovers, I wanted my own sex. Those words still shook Catalina every time she remembered them and threatened to bring a hot flush to her own face. The thought of saying anything on the subject to Sam made her stomach flip. How would she ever get beyond this infantile paralysis? Because it had been going on for too long.

  Catalina leaned back against the wall and tried to work out what to say, where to start. The heroines in ballads would drop a handkerchief for the bold, dashing heroes to pick up. Whether this would work with Sam was irrelevant, since Catalina no longer possessed a handkerchief.

  “Actually, if you want to help, could you get a dozen sweet potatoes?”

  The storeroom was close by, and Catalina was soon back. “I could only find this sack with about eight in it. Will that do?”

  “It’ll have to. We need another expedition to the farm. I’ll tell Charles or Liz when I see them.”

  Catalina’s stomach tightened, for a completely different reason. She might be excused from cooking, but nobody was allowed off the hazardous trips to the outer island, and she knew her name was top of the roster. “I could go find them.”

  “No rush. This will have to do. It’s too late to do anything now.” Sam began dicing the potatoes.

  Catalina moved to where she could study the deft movements. Sam’s hands were strong, hardened by work, yet long-fingered and graceful—a blend of masculine and feminine traits that typified her. Catalina remembered running through the rain holding Sam’s hand. A shame she had been too busy trying not to fall over to appreciate it.

  Could she contrive a way to hold Sam’s hand again? Could she turn the moment into something more? Would it be too forward? Too presumptuous? Should she say something first? And if so, what? Catalina was acutely aware of her lack of experience in such matters.

  Maybe it would be easier if she found some spare cloth and made a handkerchief.

  * * *

  The first of the castaways arrived in the kitchen. Catalina knew she had run out of excuses to stand about, especially when Sam said, “Go and eat. I’ll finish up in here and join you in a minute.”

  Catalina ladled out a bowl of stew, took a flat disc of cornbread, and went into the common room. As yet, the large circular bench was empty. Unfortunately, Catalina had no sooner sat down than she was joined by Charles and Horatio, who took a seat on either side of her, leaving no space for Sam. Catalina tried not to let her disappointment show.

  “How’s the research going? Picked up anything new?” Charles asked.

  “Mainly confirming what we already know.” Catalina dunked a corner of bread in the stew and tasted it. Maybe Sam’s cooking did not match Jorge’s, but it was far from the worst. “I wish I could talk Liz into delaying the vote.”

  “Why? You don’t strike me as the procrastinating sort.”

  “Because we don’t know enough. We’re going to vote on attacking the Minotaur without any informat
ion about whether it can be done. There might even be another location where we can reset the caretakers and avoid the Minotaur altogether.”

  “Yes, well. I think Liz is feeling the pressure of time.”

  “So am I. There’s so much in the books, and most of it’s irrelevant. I could spend years going through it all.”

  “I agree with Cat,” Horatio said. “There’s no point going off half-cocked. I’ll be voting to stay. Not that I want to stay, but we can change our minds later if we find more out. If we attack the Minotaur, and we all get killed, well, it will be too late then, won’t it?”

  The point was undeniable. Catalina sighed. “From what I’ve found out, the Minotaurs sound unbeatable.”

  “Liz said they were based on the aliens,” Charles said.

  “That’s what the Greeks wrote. They should know, as far as body shape goes, but I suspect the real aliens weren’t quite so tough.”

  “I used to read Greek myths as a boy,” Horatio said between mouthfuls. “Though only in translation. I fear I was a rather poor student. My schoolmasters tried to teach me Latin, but I was never very good at it. I suppose Latin wouldn’t be much use here anyway, although it always seemed a bit like Greek to me. I did like that story about the lady with the snakes for hair.”

  “Medusa,” Catalina said.

  “Yes. That was it. How did the story go?”

  Catalina and Charles finished off their stew while Horatio fumbled his way through the parts he remembered, interspersed with sections from other myths. It was just as well Catalina already knew the story, because she would never have pieced it together from Horatio’s account.

  “Anyway. I hope there’s none of those awful snake ladies in the tower. I don’t suppose you’ve come across anything about them?”

  “No.” Catalina put down her empty bowl. “No stone statues either.”

  At the other side of the room, Sam was talking to Madison. Catalina felt an uncomfortable twinge of jealousy. Sam had confessed to wanting women as lovers. She had not given any clues about whether there was any particular woman she wanted. Sam and Madison did get along well together. The more she thought about it, the less happy Catalina was. Was she being overconfident about her own chances?