Reading the Wind (Silver Ship)

by Brenda Cooper

  Jenna turned to Marcus. “Thank you. We’ll pay our way.” She looked like she wanted to lean in toward him, but she leaned away instead. “But I can’t promise our purpose will align with yours. If it does, we’ll stand by you in it. But first, we’ll save our own.”

  She turned to my father. “I had hoped to recruit you to see if we could bring the Family of Exploration back together. Now I understand why the Family fractured. You violated the soul of who we are.”

  My father held still. I hated the choices he had made, but most people would have cringed under Jenna’s steady, unrelenting gaze as she continued. “Perhaps the best way to rebuild the Family is to correct the wrong. Then we can determine whether or not the Family has a home on Fremont.”

  She looked at Marcus. “And? I want to stay with you, too.”

  I watched Marcus carefully. The day we landed, he’d refused to take the others, even Alicia, who had asked directly. But now he knew me, and surely he knew how I loved Alicia. If nothing else, I’d told him. At least ten times.

  He chewed lightly on his lower lip, while we all watched him, waiting for some sign.

  When he focused on Jenna, his smile blended triumph and a bit of cockiness. The longer he looked at her, the softer his gaze became.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t bear to wait for his answer, Marcus nodded. “Then let’s get you ready. Can you and the others make a list? Of both provisions and people?”

  She nodded.

  “Don’t use the nets.” Marcus took my elbow and guided me away from the group. As soon as we were out of earshot he asked, “Did you drop your shields at all?”

  I shook my head.

  “Good. The Port Authority is looking for you. I think you don’t much want to talk to them, especially if you want to get to Fremont.”

  He bent down near me, keeping his tones low, as if to emphasize that I was in danger. “You and I are going to talk for a few moments and then you’re going to go say good-bye to your dad, and we’ll lay low until it’s time for you to take off.”

  I took a deep breath. How could meeting my father have turned to Chelo being in mortal danger? How could a day ever be so wrong?

  Marcus must have seen how miserable I felt. We were only an inch or two different in height, and I easily met his eyes, green flint, sparkling with urgency. He spoke, his voice quiet and firm. “Until you have suffered so much loss, you cannot know what dark place drove your father’s decisions. Don’t hate him.”

  I nodded, miserable. I wanted to hate my father for sending the mercenaries, and love him for it as well. Or love him in spite of it. But in this moment, all I felt was icy fear for Chelo. I shivered, in spite of the warm sun and the soft breeze that lifted my hair from my face, in spite of the scent of fresh grass and the singing sculptures and the birdsong.

  I followed Marcus over to the others. He squatted beside Jenna, and I beside him, with Alicia on my right. She put a hand on my calf and looked up at me, her eyes wide with concern. “Are you all right?”

  Sure. My sister was in mortal danger, the government neither trusted nor knew me, and my father was a flaming coward. “Yes. What did you come up with for a list? How fast can we get everything and be ready?”

  Even though it was my question, Jenna looked up at Marcus. “It sounds like we need room to bring people back. What if we just take the five of us, and Tiala? We don’t want to be separated again.”

  Marcus frowned. “You need a weapons expert.”

  Jenna leaned back. “We can’t fight Star Mercenaries, not unless you have a warship.”

  He shook his head.

  “I didn’t think so.” Jenna frowned. “The four of us know the town leaders, and I think they’ll listen to me. The Star Mercenaries are a bigger threat than I am. Hunter—the man who led the war against us—stockpiled a lot of our weapons, and I hid the rest in a cave. We can decide what to do after we get there.”

  I already knew the situation. “Chelo won’t leave if the rest of Artistes is in danger.”

  “How can we possibly save them all?” my father asked.

  It was a good question. Chelo and Liam and Kayleen mattered the most, but they wouldn’t abandon the others. So we wouldn’t either. Besides, we owed them more than that. Tom, Paloma … “Whatever they may have done to you, the town raised me and Chelo and everyone else. Maybe not always right, maybe I’d like to teach a few of them lessons”—like Garmin, for instance, for beating up Bryan so badly—“but they had the opportunity to kill us when we were children, and they didn’t do it. They chose to raise us instead. Whether I owe it to all of Fremont’s people, or just to Therese and Steven who took me and Chelo in, this is my opportunity to thank them.”

  My father blew out a long breath and shook his head. “The Family of Exploration has a claim on Fremont, a legitimate one. We should bring some of them with us to be part of whatever solution happens there.”

  I wanted to ask him if they were as bloodthirsty as he was, but Jenna cut in. “I’ll see who I can find.” She looked up at Marcus. “I’ll keep Alicia and Bryan with me. Bryan often sees things in people that I don’t, and Alicia can be … persuasive. We’ve started a provisioning list—I’ll send it to you for suggestions.”

  Marcus nodded.

  My father stood up. “Look—I have to take care of some things to free up my time.” He glanced at Marcus. “I’ll contact you sometime tomorrow or the next day.”

  “Don’t talk about this,” Marcus warned. “Not to anyone you don’t trust completely. Does the Port Authority know about the Star Mercenaries?”

  “If they do, they haven’t seemed to care. But sometimes I think they’re watching me. The Authority. Maybe that’s why.”

  Marcus just said, “Maybe. If they do know, they won’t want us going there. Times are uncertain, and they won’t want it to look like Islas is fighting Silver’s Home for territory. So keep this as low as you can. Say you’ve just got another job, for me. Don’t tell anyone exactly what, but suggest we’re headed for Lopali. That’s the most supportive planet of the five, and we trade with them. Can you carry that story off?”

  “Sure I can.”

  I stood up too, and then everyone else scrambled up. Marcus looked at all of us. “Keep this quiet. I don’t want the Port Authority to know Joseph is going anywhere. They’ve left us alone, but I’m sure they know Joseph is with me. If they didn’t before, they do after he kicked on the university systems.”

  Jenna sighed. “We’ll be careful, Marcus. I haven’t talked to many people about Fremont at all.” She touched her face. “I spent more time in medical than away from it.”

  “I’m taking Joseph with me,” Marcus said.

  My father cleared his throat. “Look, I’ve got to go.” He stepped toward me. Jenna took Bryan by the arm, leading him a few steps away, saying something in a low voice, and Marcus began asking Alicia questions I couldn’t quite hear.

  I turned my attention completely to my father. He held out a hand. “I … I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you alive.” His words were warm, and real, despite the guilt in his eyes. “We’ll have some time on Creator to get to know each other.”

  “I expect that we will.” My words sounded incredibly formal and stilted. I couldn’t make myself embrace him, and while his hand extended close enough for me to take it, the rest of him kept some distance. So we shook hands, our grips not quite matching, and he turned and walked away.

  25

  A SILVER SHIP LEAVES FOR FREMONT

  Marcus flew me to Creator. Below us, blue sky met blue water, the midday sun sparkling the sea with tiny short-lived stars of light. The long week of flying simulations for Creator, desperate study of the Islans, endless strategy sessions, little sleep, and much worry had finally ended.

  My blood sang at the idea of flight, of going home, of finding my sister.

  When I woke, I’d found a simple brown coat and pants with gold and silver stitching folded neatly on my dresser, a note on to
p that said, “For you. These are tuned to Creator.” Crisp and new, something Marcus had ordered just for me.

  They fit more comfortably than any clothes I had ever had.

  Creator waited for us on one of the Silver Eyes. Marcus and I looped slowly over the necklace of perfectly round islands, which looked like mossy dark-gray stones skipped onto the blue sea. I leaned forward, my breath frosting the clear bubble of the windscreen. “Are they like Pilo Island? All owned by one affinity group?”

  “Not anymore. The Landmakers built the Silver Eyes, but they sold them. And unlike Pilo Island, the Eyes are stationary. They started as platforms anchored to the ground. Mountains were grown up through them. They’re mostly privately owned. The Landmakers designed the Eyes and the flow of water and wind around them nearly perfectly—they’re fabulous for sailing and kayaking. Since the Circle River went in around Li, and water sports became the buzz, the Eyes have tripled in price.”

  “Do you own one?”

  He laughed. “Wish I did. One of my clients owns part of one, and I barter for room in her private spaceport.”

  “What do you do for the client?” I knew better than ask for the client’s name, but sometimes he told me about jobs.

  His brows furrowed, a sure sign he was mulling over how much to tell me. We spiraled down. “This is a very old friend. We put better information into the nets than the power-brokers want out.”

  By now, I knew that he meant the government and the more powerful and greedy affinity groups. “So people see all sides of the story?”

  He grunted, peering down at the island directly below us. “So people can see—most don’t.” He pointed. “That’s where we’re going. It looks like we’re the first ones here.”

  Below us, a large and very white landing pad sat on the north shore of one of the Eyes, roughly in the middle of the chain. A brown-red mansion sat landward of the pad, nestled in a green lawn and screened from the ground by a hedge of simple evergreen trees. A secret place, unless someone was in the air like we were. As we came closer, I picked out a hangar at least three times the size of ours on the Grass Plains, with four round doors on top of its tall roof. The hangar color matched the lawn, standing out in dimension and shadow alone.

  “Is your friend there?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No.” He looked over at me. “You land her.”

  I smiled. A good chance to show off the skimmer abilities he’d had me practice during the last week. Control slid to me—just a reach and a grab, and I had the bones and blood of the skimmer in my body, a resonance that merged seamlessly with my very being. I became the skimmer’s short stubby wings, her legs and wheels, her elegant rounded body.

  As we landed, the hangar loomed over us, twice as large as it had seemed from the sky. We touched down smoothly. Marcus pointed to the far side of the hangar. “Put her there.” I did. Marcus clapped me on the back. “Good job.”

  We shared a grin—him proud, me pleased with his pride—before clambering out. A light wind carried sea smells of salt and brine. The unusually white surface of the pad glittered under our feet. I knelt down and found it slightly grainy to the touch, just rough enough to create a bit of drag. It left a clean, oily scent on my fingers.

  Marcus stood watching me. “The color is so it can be seen easily. You can pick this out from a satellite shot. And better, it can be changed to match the surrounding lawn with the touch of a button and a ten-minute wait—the surface is actually billions of programmable nano-scale sensors.”

  “Can you change it from space?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I can’t. Maybe my friend can.” He cocked his head, listening. “I think someone’s coming.”

  An unfamiliar and slightly dented silver skimmer glittered in the sun. We stood together and watched it land easily next to ours. It must be my father. I chewed at the inside of my cheek, watching the bubble rise. What would I feel when I saw him?

  Inside, a full head of black curly hair sat turned backward to me, talking to the pilot. Alicia! She turned, waved, and clambered out to wait on the clean white surface, watching as an apparition in white stepped daintily out of the skimmer. Tiny blue veins spidered the young woman’s nearly translucent skin. Her hair was as white as the landing pad. She and Alicia wore matching tunics that fell to just above their knees, showing off similar thin, shapely calves. They stopped quite close to us, the girl’s eyes so pale only a hint of gold and green shone in them. They looked like soap bubbles. Alicia gave a little bow and flourish. “This is Induan—one of the Family of Exploration. She’s coming with us.”

  The girl’s odd bright beauty thickened my tongue. “Hello, I’m Joseph.”

  She giggled. “I know. Alicia talks about you all the time.” Her voice belled out, a hint of strength invisible in her pale skin and slender form. She turned to Marcus. “And you must be Joseph’s teacher. Pleased to meet you.”

  Marcus’s eyes and the little quirk of one side of his mouth indicated puzzlement. “Nice to meet you, too.” He looked at Alicia. “Did Jenna invite her?”

  Alicia stiffened. “No. I did.”

  Marcus glanced over at me, frowning. When I shrugged and grinned at him, he asked another question. “Does Jenna know she’s here?”

  Alicia’s cheeks reddened slightly. “Jenna told me she likes her.”

  Marcus shook his head exaggeratedly as he looked from one girl to the other. “I can see that you two are such friends you can wear each other’s clothes, but what, Induan, drives you into this type of danger?”

  She blinked up at him, her mouth slack, her brow slightly furrowed. “I have … many physical mods.”

  Marcus’s voice sounded wry. “I can see that.”

  “And I’m a trained strategist.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “So is Jenna.”

  Alicia glared at him. “And Jenna suggested we needed two people with every skill set.”

  He laughed, politely. “You may, at that. But Induan, that is what you bring with you. Why do you want to go?”

  “I need to go.” She lowered her gaze to the tarmac. “My brother went to Fremont on Journey. He died. My parents are both dead. There is nothing here for me.”

  Marcus pressed. “Even with your physical mods?”

  Alicia bit her lip, as if biting back a retort. I reached for her hand and squeezed it, and she rewarded me with a tiny half-smile that disappeared again as soon as she turned her gaze back to Marcus. Her right foot tapped the hard surface below us.

  Induan looked less put out than Alicia. “Even with my mods,” she said evenly, “there are jobs I could have, but none that I want. My training is to support … disagreements … yet this is the first one I’ve found I want to support. Islas has no claim to Fremont, and we should not have sent them there. It is ours, but not to turn into a killing ground.” She looked directly into Marcus’s eyes, unafraid. “Why not right a terrible wrong?”

  Approval touched his green eyes. “Perhaps, if I were much younger, I would fall in love with that answer.”

  She dropped her eyes. “Can we park my skimmer here while we are gone?”

  “Sure. I’ll move the extra skimmers into the hangar after you leave.” He made a little bow. “Would you like to see your chariot?”

  Induan nodded, and Marcus turned toward the hangar. Then Alicia pointed behind us. Another skimmer, one I didn’t recognize, heading our way. This one must be my father.

  It was.

  I felt strangely neutral, with only small butterflies in my stomach as he climbed out. He stopped, as if waiting for something.

  It took me three breaths, but I nodded hello. His eyes showed me that wasn’t what he wanted, but it was all I had to give.

  Marcus frowned at us both as if lost in thought. He looked at my father and said, “Someone needs to wait here for Jenna. Can you do that?”

  My father nodded, all the light gone from his eyes.

  Marcus said, “Follow me,” and the rest of us did.
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br />   The big green building was plain and utilitarian, with high windows that didn’t encourage looking in or out. We stood by the door. I jumped when it demanded, “Identity please,” in a high feminine voice.

  “Marcus.” A bar of light played across his face. The door clicked. Marcus pushed on a spot on the wall in front of him, and the door slid open as silently as skimmer doors and the doors of the New Making. Inside, I saw an interior wall, and between the door and the wall, a wide, blank corridor that went both directions. He stepped inside, heading to the right.

  We followed, me behind him, Alicia and Induan after me. My soft boots made little scraping sounds, Alicia’s sport-shoe-clad feet made almost inaudible taps, and Induan made no noise at all.

  Marcus opened another silently sliding doorway, and lights flooded a tall rounded room. I stood, gaping.

  Creator.

  Her silver skin glowed in the lights. Her lines were all curves, like the organic curves of calf muscles in a runner’s legs. I drew in a sharp breath at her beauty. Tall and thin, she seemed coiled on her haunches, ready to spring.

  Other than Creator, the room was empty except for a neat stack of supplies just inside the door.

  I already knew Creator inside and out, but only from simulations and diagrams. I needed to touch her. I walked up and placed my palm and splayed fingers gently against her sleek side, feeling the cool silver of her skin. I loosened my shields, just a bit, and a spark of connectivity flowed almost immediately between me and the ship, as if either I or the coat I wore attracted her. Ship’s chatter—status, commands, and the movement of parts and robots—filled my being.

  My father would pilot her out of the system, so I would have to wait to truly merge with her, but touching her helped me know she was real. I let go of her reluctantly, feeling an immediate pang of separation.

  Her door opened to Marcus’s command and the four of us went in. Creator gleamed, every surface perfect. She smelled of metal and oil, of fresh water and green growing things. Marcus glanced at me. “Can you show Alicia and Induan around while I run diagnostics?”