Amid the Crowd of Stars
Page 13
“Oh, good.” Ichiko’s frown dissolved, turning into a smile. “It’s good to hear from you, Saoirse. I wasn’t intending to share this until I came back on-planet tomorrow, but since you’ve called, I’ll go ahead and tell you. I’ve just heard from Captain Keshmiri; she’s given me permission to go out and visit the archipelago—in your boat, if that’s the way it has to be. You just have to promise me that I won’t end up drowning.” There was a pause, then the frown returned. “Saoirse?”
“I’m afraid yeh’ll have to tell her I’ve changed my mind. She can’t come out yet. Maybe never.” Her mam’s words had kept returning to Saoirse as she’d listened to Ichiko talk. There it was, what she’d wanted to hear before Kekeki changed everything: the chance for her to get closer to Ichiko and help, and Ichiko in turn could have been the key to Saoirse being able to go with Odysseus to Earth. Leaving for the ancient homeworld was the only path to avoid the fate that the archipelago seemed to have determined for her—only now the trap closed tighter around her than ever before.
Having the plotch was bad enough, with the paranoia of the Terrans about anything from Canis Lupus making it to Earth. But now, who knows what Kekeki has sent circulating through my body and what changes the Terrans would find in me if they looked—changes that I’m afraid they can’t possibly undo, especially when the arracht say it’s not possible.
“Saoirse?” Ichiko repeated, and Saoirse shook herself, forcing herself to smile at the woman. “That’s . . .” Saoirse stopped to run her tongue over suddenly dry lips. “That’s wonderful news, Ichiko.”
“But?”
Saoirse’s decision was sudden and impulsive. The audacity of it made her breath catch and her heart pound. She knew the decision was driven by her resentment, but that didn’t matter. “No buts. And I can promise yer not going to drown. Yeh’ll be down here next cycle, then?”
“Just a moment . . . AMI?” Saoirse heard her say, then the Terran’s attention seemed to drift for a moment. “The shuttle should arrive before High Eighth in your next cycle; you’ll be sleeping then. Why don’t we plan on meeting at Low Second? That’ll give me time to get settled back in, make some preparations, and take a flitter down to Dulcia.”
“Low Second, then,” Saoirse said quickly. “But rather than yeh going down to Dulcia, why don’t I just come up here? Uncle Angus, Liam, and I are staying just outside Dulcia on this side of Connor Pass. You and I could take the flitter down. Will that work?”
“I’ll be here and ready,” Ichiko promised. “See you then. I’m looking forward to seeing the archipelago with you.”
* * *
“Ah, Ichiko,” Nagasi said through the holo portal he’d opened in her quarters, “I’m glad I caught you before you left. You asked about the DNA tests on the Lupusian volunteers. I’ve given the full report I just received to your AMI so you can look it over, but the bottom line is this: Lupusian DNA is about 98% the same as yours or mine, give or take a few tenths.”
“That sounds good,” Ichiko told him. She continued packing the small case she was taking down to First Base, then hopefully to Great Inish. “That’s not my field, but I’d think that would bolster the argument that we can safely take back to Earth those who want to go.”
Her voice trailed off as she finished; Nagasi was shaking his head, frowning. “As you said, this isn’t your field. You could say the same about a gorilla back on Earth, since we share about 98% of our DNA with them, too. Chimpanzees are even closer to us, with about 99% shared DNA. But while both are members of the genus Hominidae, neither Gorilla beringei nor Pan troglodytes are . . .”
“. . . considered to be Homo sapiens,” Ichiko finished for him. “They’re not human. They’re not us.”
Nagasi nodded, his lips pressed together. He inhaled deeply. “We could make the same argument here—in fact, I’ve already heard it from some of our staff: the people living downworld are now fundamentally Homo lupus and no longer Homo sapiens. At this point, they’re on a different evolutionary branch. Frankly, it’s even possible that we could no longer produce offspring together. There’s still a lot of work needed to determine exactly where the differences are in the nucleotides, how they manifest and what that means, but it’s clear that centuries of separation in this environment have had a truly significant effect. After all, they do get more radiation here from Wolf 1061 than we get from Earth’s sun and that means more mutations. Add to that the impact of hosting alien viruses and bacteria in their bodies. And . . .” He left the rest unsaid.
“Oh,” Ichiko sighed. She put her backup recorder in the case, pushed the top down, and latched it.
“There’s more. On average, Lupusian mtDNA genomes differ from each other by 20.4 bases—which means the Lupusians are only a third as genetically diverse as us. That kind of low diversity is certainly due to the small and limited population they started with, but it also suggests that they’re not as robust a species as we are and might have a hard time fighting off new diseases and dealing with changes in environmental conditions.”
“Which they’d be likely to encounter if they came to Earth.” It’s over, Ichiko thought. There’s no chance. Not any longer.
“Exactly,” Nagasi said, as if responding to AMI’s comment. He shook his head. “For now, keep this to yourself, but I’d say that on the whole, this analysis is the final nail in the proverbial coffin. Given that we’ve yet to see any of our Lupusian volunteers completely rid themselves of the local bacteria, viruses, and other pathogens they carry around, and our antibiotics and treatments don’t seem to affect the local bad stuff, I’d say Captain Keshmiri’s decision is becoming very clear-cut. Sorry, Ichiko. I know you were hoping for a different answer.”
“I was,” she admitted. “Not for me, particularly, but for the people here.” Like Saoirse. “Thanks for letting me know, Nagasi. I won’t say anything to anyone for now. Especially to Saoirse.”
“I know you won’t, which is why I told you.”
“You know,” Ichiko said carefully, the thought newly forming in her head even as she spoke, “what you’re essentially saying is that the Lupusians, in one sense, are Earth’s very first contact with a new sentient species.”
Nagasi smiled widely at that. “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting and exactly what I told Captain Keshmiri. That’s why she agreed to let you go to the archipelago—it’s important for us to know all we can about them while we have the opportunity. Who knows how they might continue to diverge from us, and we need to understand these extremely close cousins of ours. Have a safe trip back down to the planet. Call me if you need anything, and I’ll let you know if there’s more information to pass on. Oh, and I have something else for you to take downworld. I’ve sent a rating over to your quarters to give it to you. It’s what we talked about.”
“Thanks, Nagasi,” she said. “AMI, disconnect.”
The portal collapsed and vanished. Ichiko sat on the bed next to the case. “Damn it,” she muttered. “Poor Saoirse . . .”
* * *
“Thanks, Nagasi,” Ichiko said aloud. “AMI, disconnect.”
Machiko heard the command—as she heard everything that Ichiko thought or said now, and severed Ichiko’s connection to Nagasi. She considered, briefly, saying something more to Ichiko but didn’t. She hadn’t spoken much to Ichiko since her host had tried to change her programming. She wasn’t certain why that was, only that it just felt right.
Machiko said to the myriad AMIs.
The voices were new but increasingly present, offering Machiko comfort and making her feel less alone.
The Winds That Awakened The Stars Are Blowing
SAOIRSE APPROACHED FIRST BASE closer to Low First bell than to Low Second. This time there was no warning from the loudspeakers, but only Ichiko’s voice booming over the hillsides. “You’re early, but that’s mondai nai. I’m nearly ready, Saoirse,” she said.
“Mondai nai?” Saoirse repeated.
“Sorry. That means ‘not a problem’ in Japanese. Consider it an accidental foreign language lesson. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be out. I’ll meet you in the flitter bay.”
“See yeh then,” Saoirse called back to the air. She slid from the capall, but this time didn’t tether the beast. Instead, she looped the reins over the saddle and patted the capall on the rump. “Go home,” she told it. The capall snorted, then turned ponderously and started back toward the cleft of the pass along the well-worn ruts of the dirt road.
She’d left the Taggart farm compound before High Twelfth and before Angus and Liam were up, leaving a note for her Uncle Angus on the dining room table. She wondered whether he’d read it yet or not and how he’d reacted. Not well, was her best guess. She paced nervously outside First Base, half afraid that she’d look along the Connor Pass Road and see Angus and Liam there ready to confront her even though she knew that was improbable. Most likely, they’d started the trek down to Dulcia and their boat, so they could head back to Great Inish.
That wouldn’t matter. However they reacted wasn’t going to change anything.
The glare of spotlights pierced the eternal dusk, and the flitter bay doors groaned wearily as they yawned open. Saoirse saw Ichiko wave toward her from the bay alongside one of the flitters, its door already up and open. Saoirse waved back and jogged toward the entrance to the flitter bay.
“Get in,” Ichiko called to her. “Let’s head down to Dulcia. I guess I’m as ready as I can be for that boat ride.”
“I promised yeh that yeh wouldn’t drown,” Saoirse said as she slid into the passenger seat of the flitter. The doors of the flitter closed with a whine of servos and a click as they locked. Saoirse heard the fans begin to rise in pitch and volume as the flitter rocked slightly and began to slide forward.
“You did promise. I hope you keep that promise.”
“Yer the one who’ll have to keep the promise,” Saoirse told her. “Yeh see, we’re not taking the currach.”
Ichiko glanced over at Saoirse. The flitter halted, hovering over the Connor Pass road and the Taggart’s capall plodding along underneath them. “We’re not?”
“Neh,” she answered. “Yer going to fly us there. Yeh can do that, right?” Saoirse managed a shaky smile as she looked at Ichiko. Her hands were trembling, and she pressed them hard against each other in her lap to hide the nervousness. She hoped Ichiko would think it was simply Saoirse’s fear of flying. “As long as yeh promise not to crash us,” she added.
“I think I can promise that,” Ichiko said with a grin that tightened the corners of her dark eyes. “As long as you promise not to upchuck in First Base’s nicely cleaned flitter.”
“I promise that I’ll try not to.”
Ichiko laughed. “That’ll have to do, I suppose. AMI, take it slow and easy, at least at first. We have a rookie on board.”
With that, the flitter nosed forward again, the capall rearing up below them in alarm at the sound of the rotors. The hillsides started to slip past them, with the craggy slopes of the pass rising ahead of them.
“AMI?” Saoirse asked.
“It’s what we call the network implants we all have. It’s how we communicate with each other. I know you’ve seen the blue light.” Ichiko showed Saoirse the ring finger of the left hand and the azure hue just under the skin there—the contact between her and her AMI on, as it always was at the moment. “When that’s glowing, I can communicate with my AMI just by thinking to her. The AMI is controlling the flitter; I just have to tell her where I want to go; she does the rest.”
Saoirse understood almost nothing of that—especially the “her” part—but decided not to ask for further explanation. “Did yeh hear anything while yeh were on yer ship?” Saoirse asked instead. “Yeh know, about some of us being able to go back to Earth with yeh?” She tried to keep the eagerness out of her voice.
Ichiko didn’t look at Saoirse, just watched the blue of landscape sliding past outside. “For the moment, there’s still nothing definite on that,” she said to the window, then glanced back to Saoirse. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s not my decision to make, in any case. It’s in the captain’s hands, based on whatever guidelines the UCE has given her and the input from the science crew aboard ship. We just have to wait and see.”
That comment raised more questions for Saoirse: who or what was the UCE or the science crew? She decided not to ask. Mondai nai. “What do yeh think will happen?”
There was a lengthy pause after that question. Ichiko seemed to be listening to an internal conversation—Saoirse wondered if this AMI woman was talking to her. “I wouldn’t want to speculate,” Ichiko said at last. “Certainly, the captain doesn’t want me doing that. We’ll know soon enough, one way or the other.”
Saoirse could only nod, wishing she could read Ichiko’s expression and body language better. They were at the top of Connor Pass now and the weather was clear enough that they could see the landscape beyond spread out below them. Saoirse pushed her glasses back up her nose. “There’s Dulcia,” Saoirse said, pointing, “and the harbor and Dulcia Head with the Pale Woman. Musha! It all looks so impossibly small from up here . . .”
When she also saw that Angus’ currach was no longer moored at the quay, her stomach knotted further. Despite her bravado, she was beginning to wonder if this might not have been a terrible mistake on her part, for which she’d end up paying a large price.
She took in a deep breath and let it out again.
* * *
< AMI, tell First Base that I’ll be taking the flitter out to the archipelago. I’ll be back within three ship-days, so I’ll still have a 24-hour cushion for my bio-shield. And I’ll stay in touch through you, of course—like I currently have any choice.>
She received no answer to that from her AMI.
Ichiko noticed that Saoirse said very little as they traveled down the slopes to where Dulcia sat, then swept over the harbor and up the incline of Dulcia Head toward where the Pale Woman pointed to the harbor entrance. She wondered if Saoirse’s silence was due to a bit of airsickness, since this was her first experience in any kind of aircraft.
As they reached the summit of Dulcia Head, with the Stepstones and the Sleeping Wolf hazy in the distance and the blue hint of Great Inish between them, Ichiko suddenly chuckled. “I flew in the trainer flitters getting ready for this mission. The first time, I had a pilot who thought it was his dut
y to make the rookie nauseous. He took us straight up, looped over so I went briefly weightless, then wrenched the trainer into a nasty dive and roll. All I could see was the ground whirling round and round in front of me while the force of the Gs slammed me back in my seat. I was utterly terrified, and I confess to my eternal shame that I think I screamed once or twice. I thought I was going to die.”
“Did yeh throw up?” Saoirse asked.
“Oh, it was a terrible struggle, but I managed to keep everything down until we landed. However, I unbuckled my harness and leaped out of the flitter even before the rotors had completely stopped. The moment my feet touched the ground, I lost my breakfast and more all over the tarmac and my shoes. The pilot and the ground crew were highly amused.” Ichiko’s lips pulled back in a grin. “I want you to note how gentle and easy I’ve been with you on your first flight, and I expect you to mention that to your mam.”
Saoirse hesitated before answering, giving Ichiko a wan smile. “Oh, I’ll be sure to tell her,” she said before her mouth clamped shut.
“Don’t worry,” Ichiko told her. “You’ll get used to this pretty quickly. Why, by the time—” She stopped, looking down toward the sea to her left. “I think that might be Rí Angus and your brother down there in that currach just leaving the harbor mouth. I could take us down to them, hover right alongside, and we could say hello if you like.”
“Neh!” The emphatic answer from Saoirse made Ichiko’s eyes widen in surprise. “Neh,” the young woman repeated, more calmly. “Yeh see, Uncle Angus was insisting he could get back to Great Inish before yer flitter and I want to surprise him. Let’s keep going straight on out. Besides, I’d like to get me feet back on the ground as soon as possible, honestly.”
Ichiko nearly laughed at that. “Says the young woman who has no problem being in a boat getting tossed up and down and sideways in a heavy sea.”