Voices of Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 5)

by David Feintuch

  Bigman drop me, wait impatient while Chang open lock wid one hand, his otha holdin’ me tigh’. I embarrass, seen cry. Ain’ fair. Uppie too big.

  Changman fuss. “Don’ whomp my Pook. Kit jus’ tryin’ protec’ me.” I waitin’ fo’ Chang ta yank out laser from coat, fry big joey. Stead, he go in, leave door open fo’ Bigman. I watch, amaze.

  Bigman come in, look roun’. “Ain’ change none.”

  “Why change?” Ol’ man give me teapot, push me to back like I spose ta fill wid water. He go glitch, or somethin’? More like I piss in it, fo’ Uppie drink. I shake no.

  “G’wan, Pook. Wan’ my tea.” He shove gentle.

  Stupid ol’ man, no care what badass Bigman do ta Pook. I snuffle, fill pot. Rub face. All bruise now, prolly.

  When I come back, dey sittin’ in shoproom like natral fo’ Uppies visit trannie. I put pot on hotpad an’ glare.

  “Pook.” Chang beck me. “Come meet frien’ from longtime back.”

  “Don’ wanna.” I turn my back on Changman.

  Bigman grin. “When I tried dat, ya grab ear an twis’. Seem like I was ’bout his age.”

  How he know ’bout Chang grabbin’ ear? I stop sniffle, lissen.

  “C’mere, joey,” say Bigman. I look ta curtain, wantin’ slip behin’, but big joey close, an’ he cruel. And Chang jus’ gonna sit ’n watch. “C’mere,” Bigman say again.

  I go close, watchin’ careful.

  He hol’ out han’. “Usetabe, I lived wid Changman.”

  I go all scorny. “Now I know ya be glitch. Ain’ no Uppie live—”

  “I be Eddie.”

  I rememba name from Chang’s tale. An’ I realize his talk ain’ fulla snot like Uppies. I look at Chang, wish he weren’ smile like I some kinda stupe.

  Eddie rumble, “Sorry I whomped ya. Don’ like joey comin’ on wid shiv.”

  I go proud. “Din’ hurt none.”

  “Course not.” He keep hand out, ’til I gotta take. He shake careful, like tryin’ not ta squeeze. I glad ta get my nan’ back. He say, “Boney an’ I came allaway in heli, lookin’ fo’ Changman.”

  Ol’ man go huff. “Changman, is it? How I spose ta teach Midboy respec’, ya talk like—”

  “Okay, okay. Mista Chang, meant ta say.” Bigman roll his eyes. “Din’ mean nothin’.”

  Chang grumble. He wait fo’ tea ta hot.

  “Siddown.” Eddie haul on my collar an’ I sit fas’. “Don’ give Mista Chang no trouble, joeykit. He be okay Neut.”

  I lookim ova. “Who ya be? Why botha Mista Chang?”

  Eddie grin ’gain at ol’ Chang. “He got spirit, anyway.” Look ta me, serious like. “I’m Eddie Boss. Dis my frien’ Boney.”

  “Tribe?”

  He go proud. “I be Mace.” Den he look sad. “Long time back.”

  “Ain’ no Mace. Jus’ Mista Chang scaretale.”

  “Was Mace, once. I Boss, four flo’.” He stare at pot, sigh deep. “Thas why we came to Changma—Mista Chang. Figga what to do.”

  Chang pour tea, han’ it roun’. Now I sure Eddieboss be Chang frien’; he get tea steada coffee. I drink, pretendin’ I like.

  Dey talk like I wasn’ dere. I don’ mind; it give me time ta figga.

  “You gotta help, Mista Chang.”

  “How? What’m I suppose to do?”

  They words all differen’, when dey don’ talk ta me. More like Uppie, but I c’n unnerstan’.

  “I losin’ my Mace!”

  Boney stir. “Already los’, mos’ of us.”

  “Unies are pushin’ Easters; Easters push Mace. I went to visit, found Sam diss, an’ Armon and’ Bally and Kit ...” Eddie look up. “They my tribe.”

  Chang get up, shuffle ta Eddie, pat gentle. “Not anymore. You gotta remember.”

  “Was, willbe!”

  “No.” Chang word have final. “Now ya be tribe with Annie.”

  “Girl can’t be place of tribe.” Eddieboss look up, smile shy. “She my wife, now. Uppie way.”

  “I know.” Chang wait.

  “Still, I gotta visit Mace, once in while. She don’—doesn’t want to come, but she understand.” He slurp at tea. “This time, I went to U.N. Square, took helicab, land in usual place south a Easters.”

  Boney shake head. “He din’ know ’bout pushout.”

  “My Mace ain’t—weren’t there. Place all tore up, worse than before.”

  “You found him.” Chang point at Boney.

  Eddie’s mouth go snarl. “Hadda whomp a buncha Easters, make ’em explain I hadda look more south. Five blocks, Mace was push.” He brood. “Frazzin’ Easters. Never cared fo’ none of them.”

  We wait, ’til bigman Eddie look up. “I went south, couldn’ believe what I found. Mister Chang, they be drinkin’ river! No wonder they dyin’!”

  Boney shrug, helpless. “No water inna pipe. Thas why we pushout. No point hangin’ onta turf, can’ live in it.”

  Chang sigh, rockin’.

  Eddieboss voice go strain. “Mister Chang, tell me what to do. They can’t drink river, get sick like dog. Why ain’ water in pipes? What’s Mace spose ta do?”

  Chang’s hand make fis’. “What’s alla trannies spose ta do?” he whisper.

  My healin’ cut itch an’ I wan’ scratch, but sit still ta lissen.

  “Should we pushback Easters? Maybe if I helped ...”

  Chang look up, eyes glisten. “Eddie, ain’ Easters that pushback Mace.”

  “Sure, it is. Boney, tellaman. Few month back, started with—”

  “Not Easters. Was Unie govermen pushout Mace.”

  I get all tingle. Somethin’ in ol’ man voice.

  Chang say, “They want us gone, Eddie Boss. Alla tribes. Mids, Ports, Easters, Subs, Neuts. Gonna push us out.”

  Eddie study Mista Chang face. He ask, cautious, “You gone glitch?”

  Ol’ man don’ get mad, jus’ shake his head. “Tellin’ ya true.” He get up, fuss wid pot, pourin’ fo’ all. Again he sit. “Like when SecGen Anjour tried, back when.”

  Eddie hunch forward. “No Unie troops onna street this time, ol’ man.”

  Chang sip tea, make face, like too hot. “Okay okay, teachya history.” He glance at me. “Lissen, little Midboy, maybe learn somethin’. Time back, SecGen Anjour—ya know he was Territorial?”

  Eddie rumble, “Party don’ matta. All govermen be Uppies.”

  “Oh, it matter. SecGen Anjour wanted to pushout tribes near river, build more towers. Sent lotsa jerries, with their U.N.A.F. troop carriers rumblin’ behin’.”

  “Course I know. They was pushin’ on Mace. That’s when—”

  “You came ta ol’ Chang, wan’ miracle, jus’ like now.”

  “Las’ time, ya helped!”

  “Too hard for trannies ta fight govermen.” Chang look up. “Mace should know that. Didn’ take a lotta jerries to push Mace outa store, back when.”

  Eddie go anger. “They had laser, stunner—”

  “I know But Anjour time, they wanted to push ya out, jus’ like before with store. I couldn’ think no way to stop ’em, but knew who would.”

  Eddie look down. “Hated that part.”

  “What part?” I jump, at sound a my own voice.

  Eddie say, “Changman and me went to see Fisherman.”

  “Ain’ no Fisherman. Jus’ scaretale fo’—”

  Eddie grab holt my collar, like sayin’, shut up ri’ now, Pookboy. I go quiet quick. He growl, “Went to see Fisherman. Mister Chang an’ me. In monastery, where he lived.”

  I look up. Chang nod.

  “Din’ wanna go. Chang made me.” Eddie’s eyes soft, like rememer ol’ hurt.

  Chang say, “He needed to see you. Else, wouldn’t help.”

  “But I din’ need see him. Not afta Annie.”

  I look confuse.

  “Was his wife firs’, then I took. Secon’ time I betray. I wouldn’t a gone to Lancaster, if tribe weren’ be extinguish.”

  Chang nod approve, like he th
inkin’, good word, Eddieboss.

  “Lancaster. Monastery. Big ol’ place, stone. Monks wid—with robes. Chang an’ I wait. Go in with others for pray. Finally, he come. We kneel fronta bench, with alla touris’. Wait for him to see us, but he won’ look at joes come to catch his sight, some holdin’ sick joeykits, like if he touch, they heal.”

  I dunno if Eddie know his eyes wet.

  “Fisherman kneel on flo’, gaunt, prayin’. Once I catch glimpse of his eyes, an’ they sick inside. Monks chantin’ foreign. Changman holdin’ my arm, like, is all right, Eddie, you strong enough. I sit on hard bench an’ wait for Hell, when he look at my face and remember what I done.”

  Chang get up quiet, trot to Eddie, pat big shoulder.

  I ’fraid ta move, less’n Eddie squash me.

  “Service finish, time fo’ public to leave. We all wait for monks to file out. Now, Eddie, Chang says. I can’t make sound if it means Fisherman’ll see me.”

  Eddie’s han’ wipe his eye, absentmind. “He almost outa hall. I get up, cry out, Cap’n! Looka me! Monk comes runnin’, I shrug him off. Cap’n! He keep walkin’. For sake a Lord God, Cap’n, looka Eddie! At last he turn, an look. Inta me. Through me.” Bigman stop.

  Real slow, I get up. Heart pound. Careful, I touch his cheek, wipe gentle with sleeve. Eddieboss grab my hand, don’ let go.

  “Guards pushin’, tellin’ us gotta leave now. Fisherman comes over. I stand there like stupe ox, hopin’ he’ll remin’ me ’bout Annie, hit me, anythin’. How are you, Eddie, he says. I look at Chang. He jus’ nod. Cap’n, I say, I need ya help.”

  Eddie break off, squeeze my wris’ ’til I can hardly keep from yell. His voice catch.

  “Finish,” ol’ Chang say quiet. “Get it out.”

  “Took balls ta ask his help, afta what I did ta betray. Can’t figger how I could ask. It’s all right, Eddie, he says like it don’ matter. That’s all past. Old monk come over, want ta know what’s goin’ on, an’ Cap’n says, please Abbot, let us talk. He was my ship—”

  Eddie wrench away, go to door.

  I watch. His big fist bang his leg like ta punish. Afta while he whispa ta door, “Shipmate. So Abbot let us talk. I tol’ Cap’n what Unies doin’ ta my Mace. I say, don’ know who c’n help ’xcept you.

  “He say, I’m nobody. I can’t help anymore. This be my place. An’ I say, no! You Cap’n, now an’ always! You be Fisherman! He shake head, sad. He say, anything I do will make it worse, Eddie. That’s my curse.

  “No, I tell him. My people gon’ die. Unies’ll listen ta you. Tell ’em stop.”

  Eddie stare at glowing perma. “I know what I gotta do. Like circle comin’ round. I stan’. My people dyin’, Cap’n. I beg you. An’ I get down on knees, like he done once ta me. I’m beggin’ you, for my Mace. Oh Jesus Lord, he says, don’t. Please. But I say, I’m begging you. Please, sir. Begging you.”

  All quiet.

  I let out breath, didn’ realize I’d been holdin’. “An’?”

  “He come. Not that day. But soon, he come. He denounce Anjour an’ his Unies, and say he go inta politics if that what it take. And he do.”

  I look ta Chang, is true?

  He nod.

  Boney say, like comfort, “He stop ’em in time. We no pushout. Good years afta, tribe hol’ onta turf. ’Til now.”

  Eddie sigh, rub arm ’cross face. “Thas how we beat ol’ SecGen Anjour. Time back.” He look up. “But now it’s startin’ again. I seen ’bout a dozen Mace sick inna cellar after drinkin’ river. No meds. We ain’ got much time.”

  “I can’ do nothin,” Changman say again, louder. “What ya think I be, miracle worka? Jus’ ol Neut, tryin’ to get by.”

  “What we do? Wait ’til all be dead?”

  “I dunno!”

  Boney say anger, “Mace goin’ down, Mista Chang. You gotta help.”

  Chang look real ol’. I watchim wid worry. He say, “Can’t get Uppies to listen. I’m just trannie, like you.”

  Knock on door.

  Chang get up, pad ’cross room. “We close!”

  Voice I don’ know. “It’s gettin’ dark. I gotta be off.”

  Eddie get up. “Cabbie.” He open door. “All right you go. We stayin’.” Pulls out wad of Unibucks. I watch wid amaze. Eddie give some ta joe. “Thanks.”

  “Sure you want to stay? Hell, it’s your life, not mine.” Heliman touch his cap, turn. Eddie close door, come sit. For a min, roar of engine shake shop.

  When heli gone, Eddie say, “Okay, you ain’t miracle worka. But years back you gave me advice whether I want it or not. Now I’m askin’. What should we do, ol’ man?”

  Chang go bristle. “Ol’ man, now? Was ol’ man’ when Mace kit knock at door needin’ place ta stay, or was it Mista Chang, hah?”

  Eddie look at me, wink. “Cool jets. Din’ mean nothin’. You be Mister Chang, if that what you want. But if you ain’t glitch with old, show us answer.”

  “Think I can’ see ya manipulate? Silly Maceboy still thinks he c’n swind Pedro Telamon Chang, hah?” Ol’ man fuss wid tea.

  We wait.

  Changman turn back, seem like he anger for true. “I tolya, don’ know. Ya wan’ answer, go ta Fisherman! Maybe he help. Leave ol’ man be!”

  Eddie sag. “Can’t. Not no more.”

  “Sure ya can. Jus—”

  Eddie grab his arm; ol’ man wince. “No. Not for Mace, not for anything! Never’ gain. Not even for Annie. Cap’n be in my dreams, ever since. See his face, his horror when I kneel. Can’t do it, even if Maces all die.” He look to his frien’. “Sorry, Boney.”

  “But—”

  Eddie shake his head, whisper, “Can’t look at his hurt again.”

  We all quiet as night’ fallin’.

  Outside, a shriek. Someone get diss.

  Chapter 14

  ROBERT

  I DICTATED ANOTHER MEMO to my puter Eleen. While I was aloft, she’d send chipnotes based on my instructions, sign my letters, and deliver them. By now she knew my style better than I did.

  Van, my admin aide, looked in. “Your Dad said to pick him up at seven.”

  “What’d you tell him?”

  His eyes lit in a brief smile. “That you’d be twenty minutes late, but not to worry. You’d make the shuttle.”

  I turned back to the keyboard, flashing a rude finger but smiling nonetheless. Once, long ago, I’d missed a shuttle to Earthport Station, and ever since, Dad assumed I’d be hopelessly late for appointments. An undeserved reputation.

  Today, I had plenty of time. I would leave my Washington office by two, though the shuttle didn’t lift from New York until seven-thirty. Time for a leisurely shower in my tower apartment, a drink before dinner. I’d have to eat lightly, or I’d suffer during the acceleration.

  My caller buzzed, but I ignored it. Van would field my calls. He’d been with me for seven years, and I could trust him to brush off constituents without offense.

  A last glance at my desk; I hated coming back to a mess.

  “Rob, you’d better take this one.” Van indicated the caller.

  I sighed. “Who?”

  “Tenere.”

  I could call Adam from my heli, or even from my shower; I’d set callers in every nook and cranny of my apartment. But Adam didn’t duck my calls, and I rarely avoided his, though I was a rising young Assemblyman from Seaboard Cities, and he was just aide to a retired politician of no further consequence.

  I took the caller. “Boland.”

  Adam’s voice was strained. “Could you swing by for a few minutes?”

  “I was just—”

  “Please?”

  I switched gears. “—just leaving. Be there shortly.”

  In the heli, I wondered what had prompted his summons. The Captain was at his annual retreat, so it couldn’t be the Redevelopment bill. Unless Dad had started his subtle campaign to neutralize the Captain’s influence, and Adam had caught wind.

  But Dad had promised to wait, though the Captain�
��s last comments hadn’t been encouraging. Seafort suggested more money be diverted to the lower cities. Politically impossible, especially given the current austere climate. Anyone but the Captain would realize that.

  I peered down at Washington as we glided toward the suburbs. Despite efforts to reverse the decay, there were still places you wouldn’t want to set down with an overheated rotor.

  Though Seafort’s idealism was admirable, our economy hadn’t yet recovered from the disaster of the aliens’ attack. Bombay, Marseilles, Melbourne were gone, numerous other cities still scarred by the bombs. Worse, our fleet had been ravaged. Funding wasn’t as plentiful as once it had been.

  Every Unibuck diverted to desolate city streets meant less spent on towers or other worthwhile projects. Only by nurturing our financial base could we provide economic growth for our whole society.

  Still, I assumed the Seafort, matter was under control. Adam had reminded the Captain that Dad’s and my political future hung on the bill, and we knew our success mattered personally to Seafort. Mine, more than Dad’s, I suspected; after all, I was one of the Captain’s protégés.

  I squinted into the sun, spotted the compound. My pilot homed in on the helipad.

  Lord God only knew where, left to his own devices, the Captain might have settled when his administration collapsed. Dad had been one of those who’d promoted the Secretarial Foundation, which raised funds for the Captain’s retirement.

  From a grateful populace, the prospectus had read, and to a large degree it was true. Whatever his shortcomings as political leader, by repelling the fish Nick Seafort had preserved our civilization, and deserved comfortable retirement. Many still revered him. As always, he responded to their adulation with aloof disregard.

  We flew across the compound walls. Built atop an old Fairfax estate, the compound melded high security with the most treasured commodity in a crowded world: privacy. Its ten-foot walls permitted the Captain and Arlene to raise their boy free from the glare of the media lights.

  Except, of course, for the constant stream of helis bringing guests such as myself. We’d given the Captain his walls, then breached them as a matter of course.

  I jumped out while the blades still spun. P.T. ducked under the arm of the guard who’d held him clear. “Hi, Mr. Boland. Mom’s inside. Mr. Tenere’s in his bungalow, but I’m sure he’ll be coming. He’s checked the pad each time a heli flew over.”