by Hana Starr
Turning her head, she saw her hair drifting loosely like it was suspended in water. And the tossed blanket was just tumbling through space without falling.
There was the pneumatic sound of a door opening. “You’re awake!” Eban’s voice crowed.
Saffron turned to watch him. He ran up to her, but his strides were practically leaps. “I understand what you mean now about having low-gravity requirements,” she murmured, watching as he slid to a stop near her on his heels. He was like a man on rollerblades, incredibly graceful and beautiful. “Is this what it was like on your home planet?”
“Yes,” he replied, lowering his voice to match hers. “Home was called Daeden, by the way.”
“Daeden,” she repeated. “The Icari people, from Daeden.”
Why are these words so familiar? Maybe it has something to do with how we’re so similar in appearance.
“That’s correct,” he beamed at her. “There are so many people here who would love to meet you, but I suppose you might have some more questions first?”
“Why is your gravity so low?”
A grin broke out across his face. She swallowed hard, a little breathless at that look. “You will see in time,” he replied mysteriously. “In any case, do not worry about that quite yet. What else is there that you have a question about?”
“How did I get here? And where are we? In orbit?”
Eban shook his handsome head. “I returned in the night with a pod calibrated for myself and your approximate requirements. You were awake for the process, but our estimates weren’t quite right and you collapsed when we broke atmosphere. There are no lasting injuries to your person, but that is why you don’t remember.”
“That’s disappointing,” she remarked.
“If we find a suitable planet for testing, you will be able to experience it,” he reassured her. “And now that you are here, you won’t have any problems next time. As for where we are, we could not remain within your orbit any longer. We were attracting attention and were forced to leave. I’m sorry.” His low voice dropped to a cracked whisper. “I know what it’s like to lose a home and not be able to say goodbye.”
Sadness tugged at her heart, but not for herself. Eban had lost his entire life and was forced into this, while she came willingly. Reaching out, she lay her hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she reassured him gently. “I’m here now. It’s okay. Can I please meet your people? I want to learn what you have here. I want to learn about the ship.”
“Of course,” he said, relief again making him look younger than she initially thought he was. He actually couldn’t be much older than her, to be honest. And to already be a commander? That was a huge weight for such a man, for anyone.
Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, Saffron stood up and spent about ten minutes walking around with Eban’s guide before she was able to more around at all. It really was like skating or something, which she’d only done once when she was 13 years old.
“This is more exhausting than it looks,” she panted.
Eban held her hand in his and smiled. “Don’t worry. After living here for a time, it will become fun and second-nature.” A shadow crossed his face, seeming to belie the inherent happiness that shone from within. “We are a very relaxed people. I am working to combat that by instilling mandatory exercise. Maybe sometime you will join in with us.”
“I’d like that,” she said, holding onto his hand as he led her out through the sliding door. He showed no sign of letting go, and she didn’t exactly want to. “Your people would laugh at me, though. I’m so out of shape compared to you!”
Eban paused and looked her right in the eyes. When he spoke, it was even and proud without a bit of arrogance. “In our short time studying your planet, we noticed a great deal of inequality amongst your people. Ours is not that way. We accept all for what they offer, and make sure that we all stand within the same places. If it cannot be done, I make allowances to allow the special circumstance to follow through to as much of a greatness as it can accomplish.
“Your place has already been decided. Even if you never learn to fly, you are so invaluable. Do not ever feel inferior. That is now how the Icari work, and you are one of us now until the day you die.”
Tears sprang to her eyes at his speech, sadness for the stupidity of earth, and admiration for him as a leader. Still, a bit of information stuck out to her amidst all the rest. “Fly?”
But, he only gave her that mysterious smile. “You will find out as soon as we step out of here,” he answered, and pulled her beyond the sliding door and down the length of a short hallway.
At its end, he stepped aside to let her see.
Saffron gasped.
Out in front of her, the ship opened up into a wide space which could only be described as an atrium. The space in the middle was open and wide, nearly longer than her eye could track, and only slightly less wide. There were several floors, doorways and store fronts and walkways everywhere. It resembled a mall, with Icari milling everywhere, strolling around, talking and living their lives.
But these Icari were different from Eban in one extreme way: they were winged. Some of them were flying, swooping through loops which hung from the ceiling at various heights, perched on wide surfaces all the way up to the top of the ship, or performing practiced yoga-esque movements upon a variety of gym equipment which protruded crazily from the walls and floor. They were like parrots at play, preening and fluttering and soaring, exploring joyfully whether they were that elderly man currently munching on a piece of fruit or that supervised child and her father. Innocence abound, she suddenly understood everything Eban talked to her about.
She turned to him, her mouth open wide with astonishment. Her heart was fluttering with strange, trembling feelings, and her stomach was nearly as light as the gravity. Eban grinned at her. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it? These are my people. Your people, now.” He spread his arms like wings, proudly displaying. “Icari.”
And now she understood that too, the realization whacking her over the head. Perhaps this generous commander didn’t wear wings because his people were his pride. They wouldn’t understand that of course, but she saw in his black eyes that it didn’t matter to him as long as everyone was happy.
Still, there was that shadow over his mood but she wasn’t going to press him for that. Not yet.
“I guess those aren’t real wings then,” she said lightly.
He nodded, leaning back against the wall to watch his people contentedly. Saffron did the same. “Do you see these?” He touched the odd metal parts of his outfit, and she realized for the first time that it wasn’t connected to the rest of his skin-tight clothing. “This is my flight harness. I, and every other member of the Icari, are granted a harness when we come of age at five years old. Our harness is adjustable. It grows with us. Our wings attach easily with only a few hooks and straps. They are mechanical, bonded with biomaterials. They are operated through a variety of upper body motions.”
“If you keep the same harness, do you keep the same wings?”
He nodded again, loose strands of hair hanging in his eyes. “The biomaterials bond well with additions throughout the years. As a child grows, we add on to their wings to ensure weight is no issue. Of course, the older we get, the slower we grow and the less additions are made.”
Saffron just shook her head with amazement, marveling at the blue strips of light that banded the high ceiling. She’d read somewhere that blue light had a calming effect and could even lower suicide rates; right now, she believed it. This was a wonderland. “And these wings are free to everyone. A necessity. Amazing.”
Eban glanced her up and down and then mused, “Perhaps someday I’ll fly for you. And then, I’ll teach you.”
She was too astonished to say anything, and he didn’t give her the chance. Grabbing her hand again, he led her down a long, sloping ramp to the nearest group of people. They were young adults with glossy fabric feathers and glowing eyes.
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br /> “Sir,” they said together, and bowed to him. Saffron was impressed that they’d managed to override their curiosity of her enough to remember their manners.
Eban bowed his head right back, respecting them as they did to him. “My friends, I am honored to say that you are the first who will be introduced to the human woman I made an announcement of.”
The fanfare was embarrassing, but the three young men were looking at her with astonishment and awe. Acting on instinct, she lowered her head to them and was amused when they started bowing and sweeping their wings around in a display of joy. “It’s my honor,” Saffron said, smiling at them. “It’s so good to be here. I can’t even describe what this is like to me.”
The next several hours were much of the same. The Icari commander toted her around to groups and individuals, seeming content not only to stay with her but to help her around the various ramps and ladders. Never once did he complain about a lack of flight, but instead tirelessly played the perfect host. He introduced, moderated, and fielded questions that pressed at personal boundaries.
Saffron hardly cared. She didn’t exactly love the attention or the way these people treated her like she was equal to the commander, but she knew that it was how they did things and just let it happen. It was just enough to watch them fly over, gathering around before dispersing to chatter and spread the news.
Their wings worked just like bird wings. Their humanoid bodies couldn’t be held horizontally like birds in flight but that didn’t seem to matter. Nothing did. They were all so carefree and joyous that she lost herself in it and only remembered she was here for a specific purpose when Eban finally led her away from the main atrium and down a quiet side hallway.
“That took a bit longer than I thought it would,” he admitted. “I apologize. It’s not often there’s something to break the monotony. But, don’t worry. Within a few days, everyone will probably ignore you.”
Saffron laughed a little, and squeezed his hand. His skin burned against hers suddenly, warming her from the inside out. “It’s okay, really. It’s perfectly normal. Where are we headed now?”
“I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I am rather hungry. What say you I take us to get a meal, and we spend the day talking and getting you situated? I’m afraid you can’t stay in the medical bay forever.”
“Sure,” she said, laughing. “And I guess you’ll want to make sure I know my way around, right? The commander has things to do other than escort a guest around.”
For the first time, she saw Eban blush and it was adorable. Her loins suddenly gave a throb, a wrenching ache of arousal the likes of which she’d never felt before through all her sexual experimentations. She stopped walking and swallowed hard, because now even the motion of her thighs rubbing together was turning her on.
However, she managed to gather herself before he noticed and they continued on to a wide cafeteria on the ground level of the ship. Eban seated her, and she took the opportunity to slow her breathing while watching him fetch some food from behind a rectangular window. There was no exchange of any kind of money or currency.
Is that because he’s the commander, or is food free here?
When he returned, she quickly asked him about that while examining her tray. The offerings were meagre, small amounts of vegetables and fruit, along with a hunk of roasted meat. It was delicious.
“Of course,” Eban said, looking at her oddly. “We don’t have much to go around, but everyone is allowed their fair share. It’s the only way.” He gestured at her with a sliver of meat before popping it into his mouth. “And exactly the reason we need you here.”
“I promise I’ll do my best,” she said. “Can I ask, what does the outside of this ship look like?”
“Exactly like the pod you saw, only much larger and with longer wings.” He shrugged his shoulders a bit. “It works.”
Finishing her meal, chasing around a bit of steamed fruit with her pinky finger, Saffron tilted her head. Something was happening. A niggling of thought in the back of her brain. Things were connecting, struggling to stitch together.
This often happened to her during her work, when ideas were churning in her mind while she went about her day. Silence helped, and Eban didn’t press her to speak again as he focused on eating his own meal.
There was something here. All this talk of wings, feathers, flight. The design of the ship. The birdlike playfulness.
Flight.
Icari.
“Oh, fuck,” she swore suddenly, slapping one hand down on the table. Eban flinched away and then stared at her but she didn’t care. Everything came together in a burst of warmth and triumph, the pieces of the puzzle clicking together firmly.
Icarus was a boy who flew too close to the sun, burning away the waxy wings his father, Daedalus, had made for them in order to escape some sort of situation. Icari, Daeden.
A frenzied need to know entered her, and she turned on Eban. Her voice was frantic. “Eban, tell me. What is the story of your people? Back on your home planet. Do you know where you came from?”
He frowned with confusion and concentration, lowering his gaze from hers as he stacked up their trays and drinking cups neatly. “It’s difficult to remember. However, I think the story is that a young man who once failed to fly worked to accomplish his goal and mounted the stars inside a metal bird. He took some others with him, and traveled to a planet where flight would be possible for everyone. His name was Icarus.”
The whole world spun around her. She reeled with the information, hardly caring when she hit the floor. Eban dropped down beside her. His face was a mask of fright. “Saffron?” he said, his voice shaking. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Finally, she knew everything. In a voice that shook even worse than his, she explained what she thought.
What was a myth on earth, and an origin legend on Daeden, were reality. Icarus was a real man who achieved rocket flight far ahead of what anyone knew possible. He had literally flown into the stars, creating this nearly identical race. That was why their language was so similar, as well as their bodies. There were differences of course, as there were bound to be when two sister species grew up light years apart, but the realization was staggering.
To think that while earth flourished, this vessel of escaped Icari people were all that remained…
Now more than ever, she wanted to help them find a new home and bring them back to their former glory.
When she finished speaking and explaining, Eban lapsed into silence with his head down to think. Only after a minute did he look up again. “Amazing,” was all he said, whispering.
It was amazing but Saffron also knew it was fate. Once estranged and now returned, one circle was complete. The next was just beginning.
Chapter Five
The rest of the day passed in an impossible blur. After their revelation together, she and Eban eventually decided to keep the information to themselves. It wasn’t important, and the general population of the Icari didn’t need their whole worlds turned upside down right now.
Most of their time was spent with traveling and talking, exploring the various storefronts. With everything she saw, Saffron only grew happier and more amazed at how similar life on the ship was to how the humans on earth that she knew. A bakery offered her a free muffin with a not-so-subtle hint that she should come back soon and actually buy something. She shared it with Eban, and fawned over it even though it was rather rough and tasteless.
“That’s interesting though,” she commented, swallowing the last grainy mouthful. “Why a bakery? I don’t see many other restaurants or places to eat around here, other than the meal hall.”
Eban nodded. “Good observation. That family manages our crop areas. However, the daughter had other ambitions. She was business-minded, but did not want a position anywhere else but here in this empty room. There are many like it, and so I gave her permission to take a portion of the crops for her own use.”
That was just one of many ex
amples of Eban’s amazing leadership. Everyone loved him, treated him like a father or brother. He was strong, admirable, and quite honestly dreamy. She’d never met anyone like him before, not a student or professor or farmer. There was just something about the way he carried himself, as though there was a great weight on his shoulders but he could lift it anyway.
By the time the ceiling lights were dimming, she’d played with and met so many different people that she could hardly remember her own name. She’d participated in the hour of exercise, and was exhausted and buzzing inside. She couldn’t wait until tomorrow to finally check out the supply stores and check out the work space Eban kept speaking of, where she could run tests and anything else she could think of to help.
But before that, there was something else she could wait for.
The commander of the Icari guided her over down a quiet sleeping area, and then showed her a room down at the very end of a hall. “No one else should bother you here,” he explained. “If it’s too quiet for you, let me know and we’ll get you moved around. Do you want to check inside first before I leave?” His eyes were very earnest and warm, his fingers tight around hers.