Chapter Twenty-Nine
JANLIN DREAMT. SHE stood under foreign stars by Rudigar’s grave, a babe in her arms, but when she knelt by the headstone it said Stepper Jordan, not Rudigar Kavanagh. She wept in renewed grief, the sense of loss too much to bear, and she snuggled the babe under her chin, the smell of new life no comfort.
She struggled for consciousness, now aware of the dream sense and seeking to end it. When she opened her eyes the linen against her face was damp with tears.
Rolling onto her back, Janlin stared at the ceiling. It looked much the same as the one she’d stared at in the medical hut, only smaller. Another’s quiet breathing comforted her after the strange emotions of the dream.
She thought she’d let Stepper die, and somehow that had been a relief. New guilt washed over her. Why couldn’t she let him go? She swore never to let him have an opportunity to hurt her like he had once, so she needed to just get over him. It didn’t matter that they were now survivors on a strange planet . . . she couldn’t let him weasel his way back into her heart.
Her roommate sighed, rolled, and when Janlin glanced over, a teardrop scar bunched up as the medic woman smiled.
“Good morning.”
“Morning.” Janlin rolled so they faced each other on their grass mats. “I don’t even know your name. I’ve been calling you Teardrop because of the shape of the scar on your cheek.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Teardrop. It’s perfect!” Her fingers brushed the puckered skin high on her cheekbone. “I like it much better than my real name.”
Janlin didn’t know what to say at first. “Well, I can’t go around calling you Teardrop . . .”
“Sure you can,” she said, sitting up and running her fingers through her hair. She yawned and stretched. “Come on, I’ll show you the lower pool where we wash.”
Janlin brightened at the idea of a soak. She rose from the mat and extended her arms into her own stretch. “Is your name such a bad one?”
Teardrop grimaced. “It’s not bad . . . just unpronounceable.”
“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad.”
She shook her head. “You have no idea. I hope your nickname for me catches on like wildfire.” She grabbed a cotton cloth and tossed it at Janlin, a second one in her other hand. “There’s natural soapstone on the shelf behind you—can you grab two? I’ll get the stuff we’ve been using on our hair.”
Janlin thought about calling her out for changing the subject, but the thought of an actual bath was too distracting. Besides, she’d been calling the woman Teardrop for so long now it did feel natural.
Janlin glanced at the two empty mats, linen blankets pushed aside on one, folded neatly on the other. “Are we up that late?” She hadn’t even heard them leave.
Teardrop grinned. “Those two are on mess hall duty, morning shift. They snuck out at first light to prep breakfast.”
“A bath and breakfast.” Janlin sighed wistfully. “What an improvement. Sure wish we met these aliens first.”
“Not possible, since they believe leaving their planet of birth is akin to sacrilege or blasphemy or something.”
“Really?” Janlin thought about this. Did it explain the strange mix of archaic with technology?
“Yeah, Captain Inaba told us this last night. He asked one of them about helping us get the Hope back to return home. They don’t seem so keen on the idea, partly because the Imag have our ships, and partly because it’s against their base philosophy.”
Well, so much for help from that faction then. Janlin praised her own discretion, grateful she didn’t have to worry about someone leaking her plan to the aliens.
They walked out into slanted sunlight, the air cool and scented with a promise of the heat to come. Teardrop led her down to the valley where Janlin was shocked to realize the pools were not a part of a stream or river, but low spots where water was pumped up from far below.
“Is this world so dry, then?” Janlin mused.
“Here it is,” Teardrop said. “But the water table is substantial, and they have innovative ways to draw on it as required.”
Janlin stared at the gorgeous pool of clear water set in a natural bowl of stone. “It’s so clean, I don’t want to muddy it.”
Teardrop laughed. “Don’t worry, you won’t. The water is being filtered. Look, here.”
Teardrop showed off the constructs of an advanced civilization living off the land, and Janlin shook her head in wonder.
“The Birdfolk are wonderful, full of determination to care for the world they have . . . and each other . . . even us,” Teardrop said as they sank into the thermal-warmed water.
“Don’t you feel a bit like we’re kept pets?”
Teardrop pulled a face. “No. Why would you think that?”
“Well, they’re building homes and making salves, but we haven’t seen anything about how they live. I feel like the cow in the barn, never knowing what the inside of the house looks like.”
“Well, that might change for you today,” Teardrop said with a grin. Janlin grinned back, remembering her volunteer mission to try out the flight suits. Teardrop slid deeper into the water. “Besides, they believe in staying and making the best of what you are given, just like I said. To them, it’s wrong to go too far from the planet, which is why they work so hard to keep it nice. Makes for responsibility and good caretaking, don’t you think?”
Janlin couldn’t believe her naivety. “If this is what they believe, they should be more interested in getting us back to our own planet than ever, not keeping us here.”
Teardrop obviously hadn’t thought of it that way. “You’d have to talk to the leadership circle about it. They’re the ones making most of the decisions now. Maybe the Birdfolk have been told there is no going back, and so they are helping us make the best of it.”
Janlin thought she’d boil the water, her blood was so hot with anger. “There is a way back,” she said firmly. “I promise you, girl, there is always a way home if we want it bad enough.”
She nodded. “Teardrop.”
Janlin blinked. “Pardon?”
“Just call me Teardrop. Really. I love it. And I hope you’re as good at finding solutions to impossible problems as you are at making up nicknames.” Teardrop ducked under the water to wet her hair, thrusting up from below with vigour. She sputtered and wiped her face. “I’d really like to go home.”
Chapter Thirty
“WE PICK A name, and I can assign their sound pattern to that name. It’ll take a while to learn the different individuals, but it should help for today.”
Steve tapped away at his keys, setting things up for her and the Huantag leaning over him with great interest. Janlin stared at the creature that was going to take her flying that day. He was tall and lean, almost fragile looking, with burgundy plumage streaked with tan on top and back, and a white front. Janlin wanted to comment how beautiful he was to them, but she didn’t know how, or if it would be appropriate.
“Your arms and legs are incredibly thin,” she said instead, and instantly felt inane.
His chirps and whistles became words in her ear. “Our bones are light, just like this planet’s gravity. We also have many lungs . . . I understand you only have two? And you have calcium in the bones, very heavy element.” He studied the bundle of straps and webbed material in his claw-like hands. She hoped it wasn’t worry she saw in his eyes.
“Is that going to work for me?” she asked, pointing at the intricate gear.
“Yes, yes. If Imag can fly, you small things can fly too.”
Janlin wondered at the word Imag until she realized that Steve had put in whatever word he knew for an alien looking like an Imag without knowing that they were only one race of the aliens from Yiyau.
“Okay, pick a name,” Steve said.
“Me?” Janlin’s brain drew a blank.
“Sure, why not? You’re spending the day with him.”
A little thrill ran through her at the thought of the imminent f
light.
The Huantag began to speak again. Janlin hoped the translation would get quicker with time and use. Her life might depend on it today.
“I am named for my height, and my family, who are all known for their diving speed. Does this help you choose?”
Janlin and Steve stared at each other, both at a loss.
“It doesn’t feel right to label you,” Janlin explained, “or to assign you a name common to our own. I would like to give you something more special.”
“You honour me,” he said with a regal lift of his head. Janlin gave Steve an appreciative look. He’d done one hell of a job on the translation program.
She snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it. The Peregrine Falcon was once Earth’s fastest animal, diving at speeds over three hundred kilometres an hour.” She flushed at Steve’s look of astonishment. “My dad was really big on birds, especially the large hunting birds. He loved anything that could fly. Anyway, we could call him Falco, which I believe is part of the Latin name for the falcon.”
“Falco? I like it,” Steve said, tapping away. Then he leaned forward and spoke the name into his jumble of parts. Then he instructed the alien to utter his name. “There. Try it, Janlin. Call him by his human name.”
She did, and the Huantag’s wings expanded slightly and he shook himself, ruffling all his feathers in a show of soft decadence.
“Glorious to have you call me by name, Janlin.”
Now it was Janlin’s turn to be astonished. Steve grinned. “Already set you up,” he explained.
“And what does my name mean in their language?” she queried. Steve’s eyes twinkled.
“Little mouse bird.”
“Time for flying is good,” said Falco, unable to catch Janlin’s indignation and Steve’s amusement. “Before wind comes bigger.”
“Makes sense to me,” Janlin said. She followed Falco out on shaky legs. Maybe she should’ve told Gordon or someone about Anaya before this. What if she didn’t return from this prototype test?
Before she could follow this train of thought further, she found herself being strapped into the strangest contraption of gear. Stepper, Tyrell, Teardrop, and others gathered around to watch and offer advice from time to time, but Gordon didn’t appear. A twinge of worry for him distracted her from her own fear.
“Stepper, have you seen Gordon?” she asked. Wasn’t like him to miss something like this.
“I saw him at the pools this morning,” he said.
“I’m worried about him.”
Stepper frowned. “Why?”
Janlin scowled at him. Shouldn’t he know why? Wasn’t it painfully obvious how badly he pined for Ursula?
Before she could confront him on this, or even ask Teardrop to look for him, Falco began to chirp at her.
“Please, you are ready. Reach your arms, good, and put these buttons in your hands, yes.” Falco reeled off instructions that the translator seemed to miss half of while testing each strap to ensure a snug fit around her upper legs, torso, and over her shoulders. The impressive wings unfurled when she stretched her arms out, causing some of the bystanders to stumble out of the way, and then folded behind her when she brought them back in.
“Magnificent,” she breathed.
“Is there a wait?” Falco asked. “May we go?”
Kudos to Steve for making them sound so utterly polite and dignified. Still, she wasn’t sure she was ready for this.
Falco, seeming to sense her unease, again ran over the thrust controls, each one simple pressure points in the harnesses her hands rode in.
“May we go?” Falco inquired again.
Janlin swallowed. “Don’t I need more room to launch, or a drop-off or something?”
“No. Push first thruster three times quick as you jump. Reach arms to open wings. Is this understood?”
“Yeah, sure. Easy as pie.”
“I do not understand this word.”
Steve laughed. “Yeah, I figured there’d be a few I missed.”
“You can do this, Janlin,” Stepper called. “You can fly anything, remember?”
His taunting made her roll her eyes even as butterflies fluttered within, as much nerves as wondering what might be possible between them in such a place as this. She adjusted a few more straps, stalling.
“You go, I will follow,” Falco said. “If you fall, I will catch and bring down safe.”
That gave her some measure of comfort, so she took a huge breath, crouched low, and lunged, pressing the thruster three times as she did.
The shove was both more powerful and less noisy than she’d expected. The ground fell away, the only shape staying with her that of Falco’s graceful curves.
Whistles reached her, cutting easily through the wind, and her ear-cell translated. She wasn’t sure replying would work as well with her breath being whipped away.
“Beautiful launch, Janlin. Low thrust power now. Stay calm, use your sense to guide movements. Try and I will watch.”
Janlin cut back on the thrusters and tipped her wings to soar over the village. She thought she could hear cheers from below, and she couldn’t help but grin.
She tucked her legs and fell into a dive she didn’t intend, and quickly straightened them again.
“Good, good. You sense flight good, trust what you feel.”
Janlin tested and played, using every button and move that she could think of while she had the safety net of Falco flying nearby. He called out suggestions occasionally, but for the most part simply followed her like a dutiful parent with a toddling child.
She finally settled into a comfortable glide, all thrusters off for the moment. Wind sighed through the strange black fibres layered into the wing structure, and a steady stream of tears ran from her eyes. Some kind of goggles might be required.
Below, the plains stretched east and south, and the mountains rose in the north. To the west lay the haze of the ocean, bright with sunshine. Most interesting to her, however, was where the southern plains dropped to meet a large river. Strange rock formations grew out of the shoreline, making her peer and squint in an attempt to discern what they might be.
“Follow!” Falco called, and he tucked into a shallow dive, speeding them towards the river and their fascinating sentinels.
Despite knowing how altitude affected perceptions of distances and size of the landmarks below, it still caught her off guard to realize just how huge the stone towers were. They evened out, Falco stroking the wind with his impressive wings and her adding a bit of thrust to her flight, but it still took a while to close the distance to the river. Below them the landscape changed to rolling hills covered in waving trees and open fields of grasses with grazing beasts and smaller flying animals occasionally seen. Beyond the river a thicker forest with a decidedly tropical look to it dominated the view. To the west the river widened and split as it met the ocean, becoming a brighter green as it met with salt water.
Janlin saw no roads cutting the forests or any urban sprawl. Where did these people live? How could they be so advanced, yet so primitive? She began to wonder if they lived in treehouses, being bird-like and all, and wondered how she would ever land in the thick jungle they seemed to be headed for.
Yet the question that haunted her worst hit far too close to home. Why couldn’t Earth look like this?
Then movement caught her eye. Huantag flew in and out from the towering monoliths of rock along the river. She peered, realizing the dark areas were openings in the monoliths. A new panic set in. How was she to land, exactly? Could she steer as accurately as the Huantag, or would she end up splattered on the side of the blue-grey rock?
Falco dropped into position right above her. “When I say it, use second back thruster to slow you and glide gently in. Lower elbows as you enter opening, turning hands up, and put feet down. Follow!”
He tucked and dove ahead of her, soaring in closer. The odd buildings held hundreds of ledges with Huantag coming and going like bees in a hive. Janlin hoped they would know
to steer clear of the student flyer.
Falco called and whistled, and to her relief the way cleared in front of him. He swooped straight into one of the openings, choosing a larger one to Janlin’s great relief. She watched his wings fan out in a spectacular display as he backwinged and brought his legs down.
“Easy as pie,” Janlin whispered to herself. She pumped a bit more back thrust, then sailed into the shadow of the building, closer, closer, remembering simulations of the Seraphs where she had careened off sides and down the landing tunnel, head over heels—
She entered the opening, twisted her arms, and tried to get her feet under her, hoping for the wonderful display of backwing that Falco had done before her. Her legs shot down and then forward, and she slid in on her back, skidding along the floor.
When she had the nerve to open her eyes, she found Huantag all converging on her, Falco chirping inquisitively.
“Okay? Good! Might be too fast, but good. Imag often tumble and roll. You did good.”
He helped her up, the other aliens staring and talking amongst themselves.
“So small . . .”
“Lighter than Imag . . .”
“Thin skin easily torn . . .”
Janlin lifted her arm to reveal the scraped elbow. “Just a scratch,” she said.
Falco examined it. “True, just a scrape.” He whistled and chirped this confirmation to the group. “Janlin can understand you, but you do not have upload to hear her,” he explained. Some Huantag ducked their heads.
“Are my wings okay?” Janlin asked, worried she wasn’t the only thing scraped.
“There is some damage. We can repair it,” he said to her moan of dismay. He helped her remove the flight gear and handed it to another, offering some suggestions for further improvements. Then he turned to a small individual with a focused look and dark stripes throughout his golden feathers.
“Fly to the village and tell the humans that Janlin will stay through this night so we may repair her wings and rest before flying again.”
Janlin heard this with great relief. Her legs trembled, and her arms ached with fatigue. Still, her surroundings fascinated her, and she did not want to reveal how tired she felt from one short flight. Despite her pleasure at flying, she had to admit the floor below her feet felt reassuringly solid.
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