The change was immediately disconcerting and confusing, her every sense scrambled and overstimulated even as she realized that she was Kekeki, or at least she was an observer inhabiting Kekeki’s body. Visually, she could see herself snared in the nest of Kekeki’s tentacles, her face peering upward through the writhing fingers with frightened, wide eyes. But she could also see the cavern above, to the sides, and behind, all of it overlaid like slices of transparent glass on which moving images swirled. The very colors of the world had altered, shifting into hues that she couldn’t describe and for which she had no words at all.
There were new smells, too. The air itself was sharp and nearly acidic, knifing unpleasantly into her nostrils. The sea at her feet was an enticing bouquet of aromas that pulled at her and made her want to sink down into its caress. She could taste it on her tongue, not salty but somehow mostly sweet, a complicated dance of flavors. She could sense the delicate movement of tentacles around her clothing, the way the tiny suckers that lined them plucked at the harsh sheeper wool.
Emotions surged through her as well, but they were Kekeki’s feelings and those of the arracht below her in the cavern. Some were at least familiar—hunger, desire, contentment—and some so strange and new that she had no name for them at all and wasn’t certain what caused them or how she was supposed to respond.
But most terrifying was the barrage of insistent voices, as if every person on Great Inish were talking in her ears all at once, a cacophony in which she couldn’t isolate a single voice to hear what it was saying, a chorus with each member singing a different song that—tantalizingly, elusively—sometimes came together in unison for a few breaths before fragmenting and dissolving again. The internal noise was shattering, filling her skull, and though she clapped her hands to her ears, that did nothing to dampen the sound. The din was continuous. Eternal.
Maddening.
The chaos of the experience threatened to make her vomit as her stomach rebelled, as she fought to release herself from Kekeki’s relentless grip and simply flee. Saoirse felt her mouth opening—saw it as well through Kekeki’s multiple eyes: a dozen images of her screaming from several angles—but the scream itself was lost in the other voices, a silenced wail of protest and raw fear.
Then it all vanished. Kekeki’s arms left her as she dropped down in the water once more, and Saoirse collapsed to her knees on the rocks of the ledge. Her glasses went flying off her face. With the loss of contact, the voices in her head died, and all the new sensations slipped away. The world seemed gray and diminished in their wake. The world around her was nearly colorless, the sounds too soft and quiet. Her ears still rang with the memories.
“Saoirse?” She heard her name through the click-trill of an arracht. She blinked. Kekeki was staring down at her again. “Yeh aren’t . . . damaged?”
“I . . .” Saoirse paused and took a long breath, trying to assess herself. She could feel her heart beating far too fast, the pulse pounding in her temples but starting to slow even as she noticed it. Her hands were shaking and the memory of the voices, all the thundering of the great chorus, still lingered. She let loose the breath she was holding and felt around her for her glasses, putting the wires back around her ears and blinking. “I don’t think so.”
“That’s good. We were concerned. But do yeh realize now what we were telling yeh?”
Another long, slow breath. She thought she could stand now and did. “Aye. That was . . .” She couldn’t find the right word and left the sentence dangle unfinished. “I don’t know how yeh handle that, Kekeki. I truly don’t.”
“That’s us,” Kekeki answered. “We don’t ‘handle’ it; it’s just the way we are and the way we’ve always been. Let me tell yeh a story. Back when we first met yer kind, the Kekeki of that time did what I did to yeh, only the other way: she entered yer ancestor’s mind as yeh entered mine. It nearly killed her, and she was never quite the same afterward and could no longer serve as Kekeki. She said it was as if part of her had been severed and abandoned in an empty vastness. All the arracht heard her scream and felt her pain, though that Kekeki was able to sustain the contact for only a few moments—less time than yeh endured being in my mind.”
“Yeh might have told me this story before yeh asked me if I was willing to try it.”
“If we had, would yeh have taken the risk?”
“No,” she answered. But Ichiko still would have. Maybe. The thought lingered in the back of her mind.
“And there yeh have yer answer. We thought it important for us to know, and now we do. It’s not an experiment we’ll repeat.” Kekeki dipped herself into the water, gills fluttering like small red flags, then emerged again. “Did yer glimpse of being an arracht help yeh? Is it something yeh’ll tell Ichiko and her people?”
Saoirse nodded. “I will, though some of it is just impossible for me to describe. I don’t think any of us could survive being like the arracht.”
“Then we’ve all learned something about the other,” Kekeki said. “And for that, we’ll also tell yeh this. When yer Ichiko was here, we could sense her true feelings. When she told yeh that the Terrans hadn’t yet made their decision about yeh, she didn’t believe what she was tellin’ yeh was the truth.”
Coming Together And Apart
THE SEA WAS CALM and the weather favorable as Saoirse left Kekeki. The currents carried her in the direction of Great Inish without needing to row. She pulled the oars into the currach and tapped the earpiece sitting in her left ear. She wasn’t certain what to expect. She watched the clouds moving against the sky and felt the slow rocking of the boat in the swells. In her ear, there was a long hiss of static before she heard a stranger’s voice, though it had the same odd accent as Ichiko.
“This is Ichiko’s AMI, Saoirse. You can call me Machiko. How can I help you?”
Startled at the unexpected response, Saoirse found herself stammering. “Umm . . . Machiko, I, uh . . . I wanted to tell Ichiko something. I just met with Kekeki again. The arracht?”
There was a pause, then a familiar voice: “Saoirse? This is Ichiko. You’ve met again with Kekeki? Alone?”
“Aye, I did. You remember what yeh said about them being a collective intelligence. Well, they are. I know. I know it now very well.”
Again there was a perceptible pause, and Saoirse realized that there must be a time lag because of the distance between her and the ship in orbit. “How do you know?” Ichiko asked finally. “Did Kekeki tell you that?”
“She didn’t tell me, Ichiko. She showed me.”
And she told me that yeh lied, that yer captain has made her decision and won’t let me or any of the others go back with yeh. But she didn’t say that. The accusation stuck in her throat, and the thought was too painful and raw. Later. I’ll wait until later to confront her about that.
While she waited for Ichiko’s response, Saoirse looked back toward the Sleeping Wolf. She could no longer see the openings of the arracht caverns there. She wondered if Kekeki knew she was talking to Ichiko. “What do you mean, that she showed you?” Ichiko’s voice asked finally. “Saoirse, you didn’t do anything foolish, did you?”
“That depends on what yeh mean by foolish.” Saoirse related what had happened with Kekeki: how she’d been inside the arracht’s mind and how different, strange, and terrifying everything had seemed. “And when I screamed because I was so frightened and overwhelmed, Kekeki let me go and it all fell away, though it took me awhile to feel back in myself again. But I wasn’t hurt, just scared and disoriented. Kekeki said that long ago another Kekeki—which I realize now is more a job description than a name—had done almost the same thing with one of us, only that Kekeki had gone inside the Inisher like I’d gone inside my Kekeki. That arracht’s mind became damaged during the experience. It couldn’t stand being disconnected from the others and finding itself, from its perspective, all alone. An individual.”
“Saoirse . .
.” Ichiko’s voice sounded concerned and worried. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Aye, I’m fine. Truly,” Saoirse told her. “But I’ll never forget the way it felt to be Kekeki: nothing was the same with them as it is with us. Nothing.” She took a breath as the boat swayed; she was nearing Great Inish now, the White Strand gleaming at the foot of the cliffs, and she put the oars back in the water. “Ichiko, would yeh have taken Kekeki’s offer if yeh could? Just to understand them better?”
After what seemed a longer pause than usual, Ichiko answered. “I’d certainly have been very tempted. And if it weren’t that I’d have to turn off the bio-shield to do what you did, then I think that yes, I’d have taken the offer. Just to understand them better, as you said.”
Saoirse nearly laughed at the answer as she began pulling at the oars to steer the currach toward the cleft of the harbor. “I knew it. I knew yeh’d have done what I did given the chance.”
“But, Saoirse, I don’t want you to try anything else. Please. I’ll be coming back down there in a cycle, and I’ll take a flitter over to the archipelago. I’ll call you when I’m back on First Base so that we can make arrangements. But in the meantime, promise me you won’t see Kekeki again until I’m there. Promise me that.”
“I promise,” Saoirse said. “At least, not unless me Mam or Uncle Angus decide to take me out there with them.”
“That will have to do,” Ichiko responded. “I’ll talk to you soon, Saoirse. Take care in the meantime.”
Why did yeh lie to me, Ichiko? Don’t yeh trust me? She wanted to ask that, but there was the hissing in her ear, a solid click, then silence. Pulling hard on the oars, Saoirse aimed the prow of the currach toward the opening at the end of the White Strand.
* * *
Saoirse heard three high beeps in her left ear: the alert from the com-unit.
She was on the White Strand along with several adults and older children of Clan Mullin and Clan Craig, helping to repair fishing nets. The nets were laid out on poles all along the strand beach, with Inishers repairing tears in the netting, replacing rotting sections with new twine, or untangling snarled and twisted sections. Saoirse was working near her sister Gráinne, as well as Liam and her Uncle Angus.
Hearing the beeps, Saoirse stood up. “Here, Gráinne,” she said, handing Gráinne the shuttle of twine she’d been using to repair a hole. “Take over for me for a bit, dear. I really need to pee.” She walked away from the others, nodding to Angus and Liam “I’ll be right back,” she told them. She stepped behind a screen of rocks at the back edge of the strand and tapped the earpiece.
There was a familiar short hiss in her ear, then: “Saoirse, this is Ichiko. Are you able to talk?”
“It has to be quick,” she answered quietly. “But I’m glad yeh called. Are yeh at First Base now?”
The pause before her response was nearly imperceptible: aye, she’s at First Base. “I am, but I have a meeting with Lieutenant Bishara before I can leave. Is it possible for you meet me in Dulcia around Low Eleventh or Twelfth?”
Saoirse looked over the rock to the strand and people around the nets. Low Fourth had sounded not long ago, the sky was nearly cloudless—unusual for the archipelago—and she figured she could persuade Liam and Angus to take her over to the town, especially since Angus hadn’t gone over to get the mail and supplies for the last six cycles, and most especially if it meant a chance to stay in town until the next cycle. “Aye, I should be able to get there. Figure on it. I’ll call yeh if I find it’s not going to work.”
“All right. I’ll see you then. Looking forward to it. Bye, Saoirse.” A click announced the end of the conversation, and Saoirse started walking back toward the beach.
“Uncle Angus,” she called. “I have a question for yeh.”
* * *
Four bells later, she was sitting in a currach with Liam and Angus, sailing toward Dulcia in a fair following wind. With the wind driving them forward, Liam and Angus had shipped the oars, letting Saoirse at the sail guide them toward the beckoning arm of the Pale Woman on Dulcia Head. In the bottom of the boat were a half dozen boxes of spiny walkers, picked up in the shallows of the Stepping Stones on their way—Angus had said Kekeki had suggested they stop there. Now he leaned back against the side of the boat.
“Do yeh ken yer Terran’s going to be in Dulcia?” he asked Saoirse, his question and expression so falsely innocent that Saoirse wondered if he suspected that she had somehow been in communication with Ichiko.
“I certainly won’t mind if she is,” Saoirse answered.
Liam sniggered at that. “A lot of good that’ll do yeh. Yeh can’t even touch her.”
Saoirse ignored him. “When she left, she mentioned to me she’d be back around this cycle,” she told Angus.
“So she mentioned it?” Angus pressed his lips together, nodding. “Whispered it in yer ear, did she, lass?”
Saoirse’s cheeks grew hot at the comment and she had to stop herself from touching the earpiece in her left ear. She wondered if Angus had somehow glimpsed the device nestled in her ear or if someone had discovered the com-unit in her bedroom. But Angus just shrugged. “Do yeh think she’ll be taking yeh back to Earth with her when they leave?” he asked.
At that, Saoirse only shook her head with a rueful frown. “I don’t think anyone here will be allowed to go back, Uncle.”
That raised Angus’ eyebrows. “She told yeh this? Yer saying the Terrans have made their decision?”
“Neh, Ichiko didn’t say that. Not in those exact words, anyway.” It was Kekeki who told me. She wondered whether Angus or Liam could see the lie of omission in her face or in the way she said the words; she doubted that she succeeded. “But from what she’s said to me and reading beneath her words, that’s what I think will happen. She says the Mainlander volunteers that the Terrans took up to the ship are being kept isolated—because they’re still carrying local bacteria and viruses. Ichiko seemed very interested in Seann James’ potions once I told her how he’s managed to cure bloodworms while the Mainlanders still are troubled by them, and took some of his potions back to the ship with her for them to try. She also said she expects the captain to make the decision very soon, so I doubt that even if the Seann’s potions work . . .” Saoirse adjusted the boom on the single sail, the cloth billowing out with an audible snap in the breeze. She was glad for the interruption. “Uncle, we’re starting to lose the wind.”
Angus looked around them; they were nearly abreast of Dulcia Head, with the Pale Woman’s single arm lifting far above them and the cliff face beginning to block the wind off the sea. “Aye, yer right. Liam, time to put our backs into it again. Saoirse, go ahead and drop the sail.”
The bells in the Pale Woman were ringing Low Twelfth as they moored the boat near Fitzpatrick’s and Johnny came out with his cart to take the boxes of spiny walkers from Angus and Liam. As they were offloading the final box, Saoirse saw a flitter approaching them from the direction of Connor Pass. The flitter hovered above them, its rotors whining, then slowly landed several meters away. The canopy opened, and Ichiko waved at them. “Saoirse, Rí Angus, Liam—looks like I timed things well.”
“Aye, it’s almost as if the two of yeh had planned it,” Angus called out. He chuckled then as Saoirse looked back at him. “G’wan with yeh, then,” he said to Saoirse. “Liam and meself will be heading to Murphy’s Alehouse once we’ve settled with Johnny’s mam, and maybe we’ll stay again at the Clan Taggart farm if they’ll have us. Yeh can take the infernal noisy machine back to Great Inish with Ichiko.”
“Thanks, Uncle,” Saoirse said. She hugged him quickly, then Liam. “See yeh back there.” She ran toward the flitter and Ichiko, who smiled at her and gestured to the seat next to her. Saoirse clambered up into the flitter as the canopy whined and came down once more.
“Dia duit, Saoirse,” Ichiko said, and Saoirse laughed.
“Better,” she said. “Keep working on that pronunciation.”
“I will. So . . . ‘almost as if yeh two had planned it’?” Ichiko asked as the seat harness slid around Saoirse’s body.
“I think Uncle Angus knows about the com-unit, or at the very least suspects I have one, though he doesn’t seem upset,” Saoirse told her.
Ichiko grinned. “That’s good. Are you ready to go? I figured that with our previous problem with Kekeki, I’m better off if I have you with me on the way over.”
“I’m ready,” Saoirse told her. “And looking forward to it.”
“Good.” Saoirse heard the rotors begin to whine, and the craft lifted from the stones of the quay before the nose dropped slightly and they were streaking over the water of Dulcia Bay toward the Pale Woman and the sea beyond.
* * *
There was nothing untoward about their journey to the archipelago this time, the flight smooth and uneventful. The Stepping Stones and the Sleeping Wolf appeared slowly from the horizon, followed by the bulk of Great Inish and its two companions, High and Low Inish, behind. The shadows of the islands stretched out toward them from the sunward side like dark fingers.
Ichiko deliberately kept their conversation light, asking Saoirse questions about what she’d done in the past few cycles as well as having her fill in some of the gaps about Inish society. She steered Saoirse away from any inquiries about the ship or the captain’s decision beyond telling her that she’d given Seann James’ potions to the medical/biology team to examine. “We’ll see what they can learn from those, but I’m sure that will take some time,” Ichiko told her.
Ichiko landed the flitter outside the main gate of the Clan Mullin compound, and she and Saoirse went inside so that Ichiko could give the Banríon her greetings and make certain she could stay a few days there. Another bell went by as they talked. But Saoirse was obviously eager to take Ichiko to the Sleeping Wolf to talk to Kekeki again. “We could take the flitter over and be there quickly,” Ichiko suggested, but Saoirse shook her head.
Amid the Crowd of Stars Page 23