The Blockade

by Jean Johnson

  (I mean . . . well . . . The intent was . . .) She fumbled to a stop, and shook her head wryly. (Sorry, that was not politely thought of me. I’m just too astonished that she agreed, given the sheer formality of everything she does. And if some gossip reporter gets ahold of this news . . . but . . . yes, your mother, the Eternal Empress, is allowed to have fun.)

  (Yes, she is allowed, and yes, it’s utterly shocking and yet heartening to see her giving this sport a try,) Li’eth agreed, squeezing a little. (That last spill took some of my reserves away. I think I’m almost done for the day. At least where the waves are concerned. What Ah’nan and her family are doing looks like equal fun. But I’d like to stay and watch my mother surf first, if that’s okay?)

  Sensing the undercurrent of filial worry, knowing he wanted both of them to be in range to bubble both of their mothers quickly if anything went wrong, Jackie nodded. Floating her tooth-and-flowered surfboard just a little bit above the waves, straddling it so that their dangling soles occasionally got smacked by the water, the two of them watched carefully. Lily MacKenzie gave her counterpart a few last instructions, then both women started paddling in earnest.

  Li’eth’s mother was no slouch physically, despite her advancing age. The Eternal Empress managed to match the Terran Lieutenant Governor stroke for stroke, until they slid down the face of the next wave, sliding forward because of gravity, not just to firmly stroked paddling. Lily MacKenzie popped up into her surfing stance with the smooth grace of someone who had done it since childhood, and trimmed the he’e nalu into the sweet spot on their chosen wave. Both Jackie and Li’eth cheered at the sight of the successful start to their ride.

  As they watched, Hana’ka managed to get herself up into a kneeling position, but moved no higher than that. Still, she cheered at her son and his partner as the duo slid past, hands briefly lifted and spread before she clutched reflexively at the deck again for balance. As they slid past, Lily spared a hand from balancing long enough to cup her mouth and call out, “Stop showing off, you two! And no cheating!”

  (See? Even Mother says it’s cheating!) Jackie teased Li’eth.

  (I know, but it’s fun being able to fly,) Li’eth told her. (There hasn’t been a flying Saint in over three hundred years, you realize—and we can use that to distract any gossip-sellers, should they turn any long-distance cameras our way. We’re already weird enough, we can handle being gaped at for that.)

  (Yeah yeah . . . I’m dropping us into the waves, and surfing the regular way back to shore,) she warned him.

  (Just for one more ride,) he said, hugging her from behind one last time. (Tomorrow is our betrothal ceremony. We don’t want to be stiff and sore from too much water fun. Or sunburned. We’ll have to do all that kneeling and bowing, and do it in public, while the Autumn Temple gives us their blessing.)

  (Are you absolutely sure your mother would kill us if we just ran off and eloped?) Jackie asked wryly, looking back to time their descent so they could just go straight into surfing the next suitable slope.

  (Are you so absolutely sure your mother wouldn’t?) he countered.

  The thought of both of their mothers, raised on two far-flung worlds in far-apart cultures, being so similar despite nearly ten thousand years of difference between their two worlds, made her laugh. Li’eth chuckled with her, his underthoughts warmer than the light of the local sun, taking pleasure at how well their families were getting along.

  They were both still grinning, minds entwined in a comfortable hug, when they dipped down into a good-sized slope, so they could surf the proper way one last time before heading for the shore. Without cheating. Mostly.

  When they finally slogged their way ashore, Jackie insisted on carrying her he’e nalu up to the sun shelters that had been erected, great curves of colorful canvas that allowed plenty of sea breeze to pass inside while offering a decent amount of shade. As soon as the surfboard had been stowed where the wind off the local ocean wouldn’t knock it over and damage it, Li’eth tugged her toward the shelter that contained their beach picnic food.

  Something about the woman who rose from her folding chair and moved to fetch their drinks tugged at Jackie’s peripheral awareness. Sipping on the straw tucked into the flavorful, slightly minty mix of fruit juices, she frowned in concentration. Something . . . Her gaze snapped to the other woman. Middle-aged, dark brown hair and burgundy jungen rosettes, clad in a red-and-cream staff uniform, there was nothing about the woman externally that was alarming.

  Nothing psychically, either . . . except that the woman’s mind was wrapped in a perfectly spherical, perfectly solid, highly skilled shield.

  (Is that . . . ?) Li’eth asked, blinking rapidly when her shock spilled over onto him.

  (That it is,) the other woman sent back, and smiled as she lifted a tray of V’Dan crackers toward them, topped with sauces, cheeses, and artistically arranged vegetables. (Go on, take a few and eat them. Pretend everything is normal for the nice Elite Guards.)

  Blinking a few times herself, Jackie accepted one of the appetizers and asked, (To-mi Kuna’mi?)

  (Technically, that personality is dead. And yes, it is me, you can call me Shey telepathically . . . and yes, I can make myself look different. If I concentrate hard enough when re-forming myself after I die. I’m currently borrowing—with permission—the identity of a Summer Palace chef who grew up in the Valley of the Artisans,) she explained. (I’m only here for a little while today, then I’ll be gone . . . but I wanted the two of you to know something, and this was the easiest way to get close to the two of you.)

  (And that is?) Li’eth asked, munching on the cracker to hide his curiosity.

  Jackie tasted one herself, finding the combination of flavors spicy-sweet with just a hint of salt. It tasted rather refreshing after spending so much energy surfing. (Yes, any more prophecies?)

  (Not really. Just the fact that the two of you will be remembered far into the future on a bunch of colonyworlds, both known and yet to come, for helping to smooth things over. And that you’ll have some kids. And live long lives if all goes well. The war is over, but you’ll still need to be vigilant,) the oldest Human alive added, snagging a cracker for herself and chewing. (Don’t let either government slack on funding the Blockade. It needs to last for the next two centuries.)

  (That’s when the prophecies say the Devouring Ones go away by their own efforts,) Li’eth said. (Correct?)

  The disguised Immortal shrugged subtly. (That’s what I learned in my history classes, growing up thousands of years ago. Which won’t happen for another four hundred years. And no, I honestly don’t know what’ll happen to me, the adult me, when I come into existence as a child in the years ahead. I’ll probably go do what I’m about to do anyway, which is retreat to my information vaults here on V’Dan, and on Earth, and update everything that just happened.

  (I do know I plan on enjoying whatever happens in the next few years after that.) She popped another ornately topped cracker between her lips and smiled. (Maybe I’ll even sign up as a V’Dan soldier and go join the Blockade forces. Someone needs to keep an eye on everything while all our fleets are being repaired.)

  Not for an instant did Jackie doubt that the very strange woman standing in front of her could handle the entire Salik nation. If she put her mind to it. (Thank you for all of your help, and for letting us know you survived. I was worried about you when I heard that wall had fallen on you.)

  The Immortal shrugged. (I’m used to dying. I do it a lot. I still don’t know what death is, however. I’m hoping it will be like going to bed at the end of a very long and tumultuous day. Or maybe it’s opening a door to a new universe with a different set of rules. Or maybe I’ll just reincarnate into something I’ve never been before. I think a tree would be nice.)

  (A tree?) Li’eth asked, distracted by the non sequitur of it. (Why a tree?)

  (Because trees tend to lead very peacef
ul lives . . . which, from all the ancient history I can remember, is what the two of you will get to enjoy,) she told them. (Now, have a last pair of crackers so you won’t faint from hunger, and go play in the sun, surf, and sand. I’m going to spend the rest of today pretending to be a mere chef before I disappear.)

  (Does a mere chef want to know how to surf?) Jackie found herself offering, draining her juice dry and setting the glass on the folding table provided for such things under the awning.

  The middle-aged woman who was far, far older than she looked grinned for a moment, before slightly shaking her head. (You’ll not get me out there even though I already do. My skill would be too obvious. That, and you really should go down to the shoreline now. I can see Her Eternity getting ready to ride another wave inward. She deserves some cheering for her bravery.) Out loud, she merely said, “Go on, take an extra cracker each. Go have fun while the sun shines.”

  “Of course, meioa,” Li’eth agreed, and snagged two crackers, tucking one into his mouth. He returned his own emptied glass to the table.

  “You cook very well,” Jackie added aloud, plucking a pair for herself as well. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “It was nice to meet you, too, meioa,” the Immortal agreed. She waited until they had turned to move away, before adding a final thought. (. . . And aloha to you both. Always come together in the spirit of aloha, so your peoples will be inspired to do the same. I’d say a hui hou, but I’m not sure if our paths will ever cross again. You’ll still be famous for some time to come, so it’s best for me not to linger near the spotlight on you. So . . . aloha’oe, for what it’s worth.)

  Jackie nodded. She didn’t look back, but just twined her fingers with her beloved’s and sent a shared thought with him back to their odd but likeable friend.

  (Aloha’oe, to you, too.)

  Jean Johnson is the national bestselling author of the First Salik War novels (The V’Dan, The Terrans), the Theirs Not to Reason Why novels (Damnation, Hardship, Hellfire), and the Guardians of Destiny novels (The Guild, The Grove, The Tower). She believes the best part about being a writer is the joy of entertaining others. The second best part is inspiring them to do greater things than they would normally imagine, and to honor those who have tried. This is one of those stories, and she hopes you both enjoy it and are inspired by it.

  Visit her website at JeanJohnson.net.

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