“Wait.” The order came from an older woman with close-cropped grey hair who appeared next to Mira’s grandfather. She walked up to Decker, her eyes narrowing as she examined him. The woman wasn’t tall, but she looked strong and athletic, and moved like she was much younger. I saw that she had the three-sided symbol tattooed on her cheek. The crowd fell silent. A toddler started to speak, but the mother shushed him, and carried the boy away.
The woman turned her attention to me, but only for a few seconds. “We don’t need to be encumbered with them,” she said, like she was making a pronouncement. “It’s too much of a bother to detain them, and we have more important matters to think of. Send them away. They probably won’t survive the trip back to the station anyway.” Without waiting for anyone to reply, she left the circle, the crowd parting for her.
“Great,” I muttered. No one appeared at all shocked at the woman’s words, or acted as if they cared Decker and I might be eaten in the jungle. I wished the Earthers would have worked a little harder at befriending the Fosaanians.
Mira’s uncle looked as if he wanted to disagree with the woman, but after a moment he spat again and turned away. “Go then and don’t return,” he said, moving over to the older man and speaking in a voice too low for me to hear.
I wasn’t going to wait for Ansun to change his mind. No matter what we might face in the jungle, I wanted to get away. This whole place and the people in it made me uneasy. “Okay, we’re gone,” I said to no one in particular, taking a few steps in the direction of the other village. If we were lucky, the crowd would part for us too so Decker and I could just walk away like the woman had done.
“Uncle, what about the young Earthers?” Mira asked.
“In the morning, I will open up the depot,” Ansun said. “Someone will deal with the children then.” I stopped. I didn’t like the sound of that. What did he mean by deal with?
“I need to take Quinn and Decker back,” Mira said. “They don’t know the dangers.”
“NO!” Ansun’s face turned red as he yelled at Mira. “You stay. Their lives are not your responsibility. Tasim, take these two to the sentries and tell them the Earthers are not allowed to pass again.”
Tasim scowled and motioned for Decker and me to follow him. The crowd did part for the Fosaanian boy. I had one last look at Mira. Her uncle was lecturing her, but she had a stubborn expression on her face like she didn’t care what he was saying. For a girl who seemed terrified of the man, it was impressive she stood up to him.
I followed behind Decker and Tasim, keeping my eyes on the people watching us pass. Most of them didn’t look as hostile as Ansun. They seemed more curious than anything else. A few of the younger ones even smiled at me.
When we pushed through the vine screen, the outer village appeared either completely asleep or completely empty. I couldn’t tell which. Tasim walked faster and I had to jog to catch up, going around Decker to get close enough to speak to the Fosaanian boy. “So that older woman, the one with the tattoo on her face,” I said, “that’s Mira’s grandmother, right? I guess that makes her your grandmother too. Mira said she was in charge.”
Tasim didn’t answer, but I knew he was right. When the woman had spoken, everyone had listened to her. I tried another question. “If Mira is your cousin, does that make Ansun your father?”
Tasim stopped and whirled around to face me. “You don’t need to know any of this,” he said. “I’m warning you. Don’t speak to Mira again. You’ll only bring harm down on her.”
“How could that harm her?” I asked, but Tasim was already moving again, calling out to the sentries by the archway.
The two were slouched over, as if they were bored out of their minds. They straightened up when Tasim spoke to them. “I’ll return in moment,” he said. “These two are not to reenter.” The sentries stared at Decker and me like they were trying to memorize out features, as if so many Earthers tried to come to the village, they couldn’t keep us all straight. Tasim took off so fast down the path that he didn’t appear the least bit concerned about the worms Mira had warned us about. I went slowly enough to see what was in front of my feet before I put them down. Decker pushed around me, acting impatient at my pace. I saw that he was pale and drenched in sweat, his shirt soaking. It was still hot, but not enough for that. Seeing Decker shaken up was a new experience.
It didn’t take long to reach the outer sentry post, and once there, Tasim practically pushed Decker and me down the path, then stood between the sentries with his arms crossed as if daring us to try to come back.
Decker started to jog and I sped up to keep up, trying to listen to sounds from the jungle and keep my eyes on the path at the same time. I didn’t hear the hissing noise anymore. A rustling in the protoferns next to the path made Decker leap backward, knocking me off balance. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Didn’t you hear that noise?”
“I hear lots of sounds. Are you going to jump at every one?”
“It’s hard not to jump.”
That was true. All I could think of was Ansun’s scar and the creature that could have caused such an injury. The night mists were coming up thickly, obscuring everything more than a meter away. For some reason, I found I could remember all the details of the path, knowing where it narrowed and where it turned. I noticed my hands were quivering again, and the dizziness was back, though not nearly as intense as it had been. I hoped I didn’t have some sort of weird nerve damage from the shock the bot had given me.
“I don’t get it,” Decker said. “There is more going on here than anyone guessed, but I don’t know what they are hiding or why. My father never knew they had weapons. He’ll be furious when he finds out the Fosaanians have been trading with raiders for arms.”
“But their weapons are old,” I said. “If they were trading with raiders, wouldn’t they get better ones?”
“Depends on what they have to trade. There’s nothing on the planet raiders would want, unless the Fosaanians are stealing some of our supplies to trade.”
I knew we were missing something. I just couldn’t figure out what. “It doesn’t make sense. Why would they hide their real village behind another one? And why did it seem more like a military camp than a village? The ones who were fighting weren’t just playing around. They were serious.” I thought back to what else I had read about Fosaan and their culture before the Apocalypse, but there hadn’t been much information, except something about a weird secretive trial of strength.
“Having your planet nearly destroyed might make anyone a little less peaceful,” Decker said. “Let’s just get back and see if Mick is still barricaded inside.”
I spent the trip back in the riquin leaning over the side, hoping I wouldn’t see a dark shape in the water again. I didn’t see or hear anything. Even the sounds coming from shore were muted, as if all the creatures there were just crouched in the jungle, motionless, waiting until daylight came.
The depot stood in silence; the one lightglobe illuminated the emptiness in front of the buildings. The only signs of life came from the remains of the pulp from the splitball game. Thousands of tiny black creatures covered the splatters, making it look as if they were pulsating. Usually Mick made whoever was playing wash down the ground after a game of splitball, but no one had thought of that today. Decker pounded on the door again. As I feared, there was no answering yell from Mick. It would have been good to get Mick’s take on the Fosaanians. For all his faults, he wasn’t a stupid man.
Finally, I said, “Leave it, Decker. We can’t do anything else tonight. If Ansun can get in, we’ll just wait until morning.”
Decker muttered some curses about Mick’s level of intelligence, but ended up following me to the living quarters. When we reached Lainie and Saunder’s unit, there was silence there too. I pushed open the door panel. In the main living area, sleeping children were sprawled all over the floor, coverlets and pillows everywhere. Piper was uncovered, curled up
in a ball in one corner, like a small animal trying to keep warm. Lainie stirred and lifted her head up to look at us, pushing back her hair that lay like a black shiny curtain across her face. She yawned and got up, stepping over and between children to get to us.
“I saved you some food,” she whispered. “It’s not much, because everyone was famished, but it’s better than nothing. Let’s take it outside. I don’t want anyone to wake up and start crying for their parents.”
We went back out to sit on the walkway and Lainie gave us some packets of mixed nuts and fruit. I ripped mine open and ate it quickly while Decker told Lainie a little about our trip to the village. He left out far more than he told, and I suspected he didn’t want to worry her.
“So we just wait until tomorrow,” Lainie said, yawning.
She was right. There wasn’t anything else to do. I could feel a yawn coming on myself.
We sat there for a while looking at the water until Lainie said, “I’m tired but I’m awake now. Decker, would you play me a song? I like your music now that you are better at it.”
I was surprised at Lainie’s request. I didn’t remember anyone ever asking Decker to play, though the few times I had come upon Decker practicing, the music hadn’t been half bad. Acting embarrassed, Decker took the carine from around his neck and began to play very softly. The peculiar notes of the instrument floated out across the water. I had always thought it strange for someone like Decker to choose to play such an unusual instrument.
Decker finished one song and Lainie complimented him on it, moving a little closer to him and asking for another. Suddenly, I felt out of place. It was an established fact that Decker had a thing for Lainie, but it had also been an established fact that she wasn’t interested. Now it felt like she was.
I got up. “I’m going back to my place too.” Nobody protested, so I decided it was a good time to leave. When I reached home, Mags as waiting for me.
“Hallelujah,” she said, her way of saying hello. “The bird is hungry,” she added, hopping up and down indignantly.
“Sorry, Mags,” I said, getting out some food and filling a tray for her. She settled onto her perch and cracked seeds with a relish. I watched her.
“Nighttime,” she said.
“You’re right about that.” Flopping down on a chair, I laid my head back and closed my eyes. It was too quiet. Besides the sound coming from Mags, the only other noise was the sound of the waves lapping on the living quarter supports. Usually I didn’t notice the noises around me when I was alone, because I had too many projects to work on, but now there was too much silence. I turned the sound on the scene setter to rain. Mags liked that one, except sometimes it inspired her to make thunder noises which were a bit too realistic.
As I was about to check the comm unit again, I heard another rustling sound from the kitchen. Even though I knew it couldn’t be Mira, I found my breath speeding up at the thought she might have come back. A louder noise, like something falling, made me jump up. I went into the kitchen and found the olon sitting on an empty container in the middle of the floor.
“I’m too tired to chase you away,” I said. “But you can’t stay if you’re going to make a racket.” The olon stared at me unblinking. I didn’t know why I kept talking to the little creature, except it actually acted like it was listening to me. Being in the kitchen made me realize just how hungry I was. I found some fruit packs in another container and filled a bowl with it. We were getting low on food. With any luck a supply ship would arrive soon, I thought, and then caught myself. What was I doing thinking about food when we had much bigger problems to worry about? The olon hopped closer, its attention focused on the bowl in my hand. It gave one little squawk.
“Okay,” I sighed. “I get the message.” I tossed a bit of fruit in the air and the olon caught it neatly in its beak. “You’d better get out of here before Mags notices you.” Taking the rest of the food back into the living area, I sat down at the comm unit. When I activated it, the slip stayed clear, no error message, nothing. I couldn’t think of what to do, and I was so tired it was tough to stay upright. Not wanting to leave the comm unit, I stretched out on some cushions on the floor, looking out at the night sky and the stars. The light of the space station, bright and steady, stood out, glowing strongly. I got up and reset the room to mimic the night, surrounding myself with stars all over the room. I lay back down, staring at them, wondering if Mira had worried about us in the jungle, wondering if she had thought of me at all after we left the village.
Right before I fell asleep, I turned over and thought I saw some random light flickers on the comm unit. I stared at it, but the slip stayed off. Deciding I must be imagining it, I let my eyes close.
A soft ping from the comm unit woke me some time later. I could tell it was very early in the morning by the dim light filtering in through the window. Mags was in her cage, her head tucked under her wing. The comm pinged again and the slip came on. To my surprise, the message light was flashing.
“Play,” I said.
No image appeared, but after a few seconds lights began to flash on it in different spots on the slip. It was like watching a light show, the kind young children learned how to make in school in art class. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a message. Probably just another glitch. I was about to turn it off when one of the patterns caught my attention. It went on and off so fast I almost thought I imagined it. Some of the lights looked like they were making the letter “n.” I sat back down, concentrating hard on the slip. Not all the lights making the “n” were on at the same time, but if I stared at one spot on the slip, the lights flashed in sequence quickly enough so that it looked like a letter for an instant.
It was a letter. I focused my attention on the left, trying to see if there was another letter. I wrote down each letter, until I had a message. I sat back, stunned. It read “N dont get on the … ” That’s all there was. I watched again, hoping more of the message would show up, but after nearly ten minutes I sat back. There was nothing more.
I knew the message was from my mother. She was the only one who still occasionally called me Nin, from back when I was learning to talk and couldn’t say my own name.
I sat back, watching the message flash over and over. Now that I knew what to look for, I could see it clearly. Why would she send a message like that?
“Info,” I ordered the unit, and then waited to see the data behind the message. Nothing came up, no time stamp, no sender, nothing.
Chapter 7
We have always been taught to hide our strengths. It is one of the earliest lessons for the young, but by hiding strengths, are we also blinding ourselves to the nature of them? In our congratulations of our own cleverness, does that give us a false sense of superiority? I suspect every people think themselves superior to all others.—Erimik, historian of the Family
I didn’t know it was possible to block the source of incoming files. I’d never spent much time delving into how the comm units worked. I needed Lainie. She had incredible skill with the comm units and was always after her father to teach her more, though she’d be considered a security risk if he taught her too much. Lainie’s father was the techno manager of the space station, and he could outwit and outcarve any carver who tried to break in.
When I went out the door, I glanced toward the shore, hoping to see some activity at the station. The night mists hadn’t burned off completely, still cloaking the whole area in light fog. There was no movement except for one small creature scuttling across the flat area. I couldn’t make out what it was.
Inside Lainie and Saunder’s quarters I had to pick my way through the sleeping bodies to where Lainie lay. Kneeling down beside her, I whispered, “Lainie, wake up.”
Her eyes flicked open and then closed again. “Go away,” she said. “I’m really sleepy.”
“I know, but this will only take a minute. There was something on my comm unit, something strange.” That at least made her open her eyes. �
�Is your unit locked down?” I asked. “I want to see if you have the same image on your slip.”
She sat up and held up her arm like she was waving at the slip, and then folded her hand like she was making a rabbit shadow puppet with her fingers, hopping it up and down.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She grinned. “It’s my new security system, coded only to my hand size and specific motion. The comm unit won’t recognize the image of any other hand unless it exactly matches mine doing a bunny hop.”
“Good one,” I said. I went over to the comm unit and tried to connect to the one at my place. Nothing happened. “I can’t get it to work here.” Lainie groaned softly and got up, rubbing her eyes “It was there,” I said. “I think I had a message from my mother, but I can’t retrieve it here. It must be set just to display on our unit.”
“Let’s go then,” Lainie said, making her way around people. Saunder opened his eyes and Lainie just waved at him. “Go back to sleep,” she said. He closed his eyes and rolled over.
As we walked over to my quarters, she asked, “So what do you mean strange?”
“I’d rather you see it than have me tell you.”
Lainie shrugged, “Okay, but you’ll have to approve me so I can access it. Your mom has yours voice-printed, right?”
“Right,” I said. I hadn’t thought about that.
When we went in, Mags was awake. “Lainie person!” she called. “Hallelujah!”
“Hallelujah, Mags,” Lainie said, sitting down at the comm unit. “Give it the okay for my voice.”
I gave the commands and then Lainie ordered the unit to start up. Nothing happened for a few seconds. Another giant yawn racked her. She sat back and stretched, but when the slip flickered, she straightened up, watching the lights appear and disappear. “Why are you showing me this? It’s just a light show.”
“Just watch for a minute, and then tell me if you see something.” She stared at it, and when she leaned in, I could tell she was starting to see it.
Station Fosaan Page 8