Wandering Soul

by Steven Anderson

  She took my hand and leaned toward me, pressing her forehead against mine. “I know that. What about Hannah? Do you know where she is?”

  “Oh, Hannah!” Joy pushed all my sadness away. I leaned forward and whispered to her. “Not gonna tell ya. It’s a secret.” Winona sighed and her head tipped just like Hannah’s always does when she looks at me.

  “Can you tell me anything?”

  “Merrimac is a little afraid of her because she led a revolution here. She destroyed a bad government and built a whole new one, and she’s going to do it again. She can use a sword, and she knows dozens of languages, and she plans the most perfect picnics and camping trips. You’ve got to try her waffles sometime.”

  Winn was smiling at me so I kept talking. “She loves me, and my dad, and I love her.” I twisted my fingers in Mac’s fur. “But I’m afraid of her a little bit too, aren’t you? She hates these guys a lot, but I forgive her for that. They’re going to keep her safe for me anyway because she’s almost like my mom.”

  “She is your mom.”

  “No, I mean her soul is like my mom’s.”

  Sam was sitting next to me, looking worried, like Winona. I leaned toward him and said gently, “You can touch him too, if you want. Just don’t look at me in there, OK? You might not like me very much anymore.”

  “How much bad could you have done in sixteen years?” He put his hand on my cheek and I leaned into it. “I lied to you when we first met because I was embarrassed, and I walked away from you when you needed me most. I’m a terrible person. Maybe when you see it, you’ll finally be able to dump me before it’s too late.”

  I smiled at him, loving him so much my chest hurt. Something wrapped around us, warm where it touched my skin. I think I heard Winona gasp and then all I could see was the group mind of the Tarakana. There were hundreds of pieces now instead of the seven that I had felt on Wandering Star. And that’s what they were; just pieces of a single organism connected by thought, making one Merrimac.

  Sam was there with me. I tried to hide from him so he wouldn’t see who I really was, and all the bad, selfish, cruel, things I had done. But there was nowhere to hide, just like Hannah had warned me. So I stood there in that other world, feeling naked and exposed, and let him look into my soul while I marveled at the glowing, beautiful Sam that seemed to, somehow, still love me.

  I touched him, trying to forgive where he felt ashamed for walking out of the Mission that one night. There were other scars too, older and deeper. I wanted to touch them all and help him heal.

  Before I could, there was a voice calling to me from far away, insistent and angry. “Damn it, Duse, stop humming that stupid song and come back to me.” It was quiet for a moment and I started to fall back into Sam. “OK then, if you won’t come out, I’m coming in.”

  Looking at Winona inside the group mind was blinding. I felt tiny and pale in comparison. She was only there for a moment before she broke us free. Or maybe Merrimac pulled away from her, I’m not sure which. He was gone when I could see again and Winona was crying while Sam held her.

  “Why did you make me do that?” she sobbed.

  “You said you wanted to touch him!” My head was pounding.

  “But not with you in there too. Now you know what kind of person I am. You could see all of me.”

  I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times before I could answer. I pulled her away from Sam and wrapped my arms around her. “I’m in awe of you, Winona Killdeer,” I whispered in her ear. “You’re amazing and I love you.”

  She looked at me like I might be mocking her. “Really?”

  “Really. Even if you did frighten Merrimac away.”

  She giggled while I used my sleeve to wipe her tears and her nose. “I did, didn’t I?”

  “You did. What else did you see in there? Sam and I were kind of distracted. I was hoping to find a battle plan or escape plan or something. Instead, all I saw was a blinding bright Winona.”

  “Which do you want, battle or escape? There were at least five or six of each that they were thinking about at the same time. I think we need your mom to sort them all out. There’s parts even I don’t understand; dependencies on the seasons, and clan affiliations, and somehow it’s about Venice back on Earth. There’s also something about how your mom first took over the Bovita clan and how she, she… Oh.” Winona’s eyes were getting big again.

  “What? How she what?”

  Winn shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Where’s Hannah?”

  “Mac made her think I was going to sneak off to the market tonight. She’s been camped out there waiting to intercept me. She should be back by…” I glanced at my watch. “Ten minutes ago?”

  I turned and gave Sam a hard kiss on the mouth. “We gotta run. Do you still love me?”

  “Stupid question. Race you to the door?”

  I ran, Sam right behind me, but the wind was faster than us both. We stomped down the stairs, heedless of the noise we were making. Mom was waiting at the bottom, burning precious display pad power to better look us over.

  I could feel the relief in her, buried somewhere behind the expression on her face that was promising us all a slow death.

  “Look at you three, enough guilt on your faces for a hundred vásárló.”

  I stepped forward, feeling brave. “It’s my fault. They just followed me.”

  Her head tipped slightly. Was that a flicker of pride?

  “Good. Then you can explain to them why they’re going to miss breakfast while we try to make it to the next safe house without dying. Do you have anything in your rooms that you need?”

  “Just my shoes,” I mumbled.

  She glanced down at me feet, laughed, and rolled her eyes. “Run and get them. Meet us downstairs.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I ran.

  The path was less convoluted than the one we had taken the day before. The sun wasn’t quite breaking the horizon when mom dodged into a small workshop and led us to an apartment above it. It smelled like old oil and dirt.

  “That was longer than the route we took yesterday.” Winona was examining her shoes, pealing something black and sticky from one of them. “Almost four kilometers?”

  “Complaining, Ms. Killdeer?” Mom sounded like she was still angry. If she was, I couldn’t feel it. She was just tired. And… lonely.

  “I miss him too,” I told her.

  “It doesn’t help me when you do that. I’ve about had enough of my brain being poked at today.”

  “Sorry.”

  She sighed. “I was sitting in the market square for over an hour, convinced that you were on your way there, in mortal danger. Then I suddenly realized that I had no idea where that thought had come from. I hadn’t even checked your room before I left. Damn Tarakana. I hope it was worth it for you.”

  “Ms. Weldon, please tell me about the Trade Guild of Venice and how they’re involved.”

  “Huh.” Mom was looking at Winona, a bemused grin on her face. “If you got that out of them, it may well have been worth it. You were in there too?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but only for a moment. I’m still trying to integrate everything I saw. I need help.”

  Mom nodded. “I don’t doubt it. The group mind is a chaotic place.”

  She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. She’d been doing that a lot lately. “Mala Dusa, there’s a bakery a block and a half south of here. Go get us something for breakfast.”

  “But you said–”

  “Are you hungry or not?”

  “Hungry,” I admitted. “But I don’t have any money, not like they use here.”

  “You won’t need any. There’s always a basket out front. And take Sam with you. You don’t need his protection with the damn Tarakana following you everywhere, but I need to talk to Winona alone. The emotional leakage coming from your brain i
s giving me a headache. I talked to your dad while I was waiting for you at the market. When you get back I’ll tell you about the Trade Guild and–”

  “You talked to Dad? Where is? Is he alright? What’s he doing to get us out of here? When–”

  “He’s fine, Mala Dusa. He’s safe. Breakfast, then we’ll talk.”

  I forced myself to shut up. “We’ll be back soon.”

  “Oh, and before you go, look around downstairs for a rag, not too dirty, but maybe a little oily. I need to clean this.”

  She removed her sword from its sheath and laid it across a table. The tip was stained with drying blood.

  I had my hand over my mouth, so Sam asked for me. “There were troubles this morning?”

  “A couple of optimists stopped me on the way back to the safe house. I didn’t hurt them as badly as this looks, but they’ll remember me. Good for my reputation.” She grinned, like it was no big deal, almost as if she’d enjoyed it.

  Sam took the hand that wasn’t covering my mouth. “Let’s go, MD. I’m hungry too.” He was smiling while we walked down the stairs.

  “I might have gotten her killed.” I had my eyes closed, perching on the edge of a desk while Sam was rummaging through workbenches and looking in cabinets. He finished peering behind a lathe before answering. “Not likely. I can’t imagine your mom ever losing a fight like that.”

  “She has scars,” I whispered. “One here,” I touched my stomach, “that lines up with one here.” I touched my back.

  “Oh. She always seems so confident, so powerful, like she could never be defeated. She makes me want to, I don’t know…”

  “Join her on a noble quest? Fight by her side, vanquish her foes?” He blushed. Ha!

  “She’s amazing. I like her. She’s done a good job raising you. You’re a lot like her.”

  My turn to blush. “I’m nothing like her. I’m not confident, or powerful, or brave, or…”

  He kissed me, which I needed. I put my arms around his waist and pulled him into me. It turned into a long kiss.

  He pulled back from me after too brief a moment and smiled, his eyes looking into mine. “I, uh, I should run these rags up to your mom now before she comes down and sees what we’re doing. I’m not sure which of you is more dangerous.”

  I glanced down to where his hips were pushed up against mine, biting my lip. “I am. Hurry back.”

  We walked out into the morning sunlight holding hands. No one paid any attention to us other than the merchants calling to the passersby to come see the treasures they had for sale. Our clothes were like what everyone else was wearing; a little old, a little worn, a lot stained, not quite the right size. My sweatshirt looked like something I would have tossed into the collection box at church back home. I put the hood up, not wanting anyone to see me.

  “Worried about being recognized?” Sam smiled over at me, I think. My peripheral vision was impaired.

  “Something like that.”

  He stopped and tipped his head to look at me inside my hood. “This emotional connection thing we seem to share now, it’s, um, I can tell what you’re really feeling, you know?”

  I sighed and tried to continue down the street. He wouldn’t let me. “You’re embarrassed. About what?” He answered himself after a moment when I refused to speak. “More than embarrassed. You’re ashamed, ashamed of the way you look?”

  He pulled me out of the flow of traffic into a doorway and pushed my hood away from my face, lost in the wonder of being able to feel my emotions. I tried to block him, but I could never do that, not with my parents, not with Sam.

  “I can see it in your head, you think you look… poor.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Why? Why do you feel that way? You’re an amazing, caring person. You left home to do Mission work here, to help these people.”

  I felt him reading me, boring deeper, and it was worse than when we had been in the group mind, more personal than when Hannah tried to know what I was feeling. “Get out,” I managed to whimper, and he was gone so suddenly that I swayed.

  “Mala Dusa, you’re better than that.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Rich girl, privileged and caring. You do love these people, but you want to do it from a position of power. It makes you feel good to help them when you’re in control. But now… Now you’re one of them, not knowing where your next meal will come from, wearing donated clothes, and unsure if you’ll see the next sunrise.”

  I slapped him. Not hard, but I could feel the shock and pain it caused. He reached for me, and for a moment I thought he’d hit me. Instead, he pulled my hood back up.

  “Let’s go. Winona and your mom are expecting us to come back with breakfast for them.”

  We walked in silence the rest of the way. Sam’s emotions were ragged, churning. I don’t know what he was feeling and I don’t think he knew either. I was feeling miserable.

  The bakery had a basket on the side of the building with loaves and rolls that had gone stale or were slightly burned, free to anyone in need. There was part of my brain that was yelling at me not to take any, that there was no way that I was in need. I had been hungry when we’d left the workshop. Now I had no appetite.

  I picked up a loaf and looked at Sam with one eye, the other one still hidden behind my hood. “I really am that bad.”

  He took the bread from me and added to the others in his arms. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

  “Give me a couple.” We split the bread between us and started back the way we had come. “I told you that you wouldn’t like what was inside my head.”

  “I think Winona’s right about you.”

  “She usually is. What specifically?”

  “She said there’s a good woman inside you, once we get her attention. And that you’re worth loving.”

  “Even Winona’s wrong sometimes. I hit you for no good reason.”

  “You had a reason.”

  “No, I didn’t, just stupid pride.” I looked around at the people on the street. “I’m not sure I care about them at all. Maybe Trilby was right about the brutality here. It’s infecting me. I’ve been scared almost every second since mom told us comms had been cut and I’m tired of it. And I’m cold.” I tried to pull the hood closer around my face. “Cold all the time. I need friends like you and Winona, I need you too much to be pushing you away.”

  “How about if I promise to be more subtle and you promise not to hit me again.”

  I stopped and almost wanted to cry. I kissed his cheek, very gently and pulled my hood down. “I’m sorry. I don’t care how I look anymore as long as you don’t mind being seen with me.”

  “Proud to be by your side.”

  “I do love that you’re crazy.”

  “Uh huh. Maybe tonight I’ll show you how much fun crazy can be.”

  I gave him my best shy grin, balanced the loaves on my left arm, and held hands with him while we walked.

  “Trilby. I’ve been thinking about what she said to your mom when we were on the shuttle.”

  “Right before Mom shot her?”

  “Yeah. That’s something I’ll always remember. But what Trilby said really wasn’t much different from what I heard from the people at the embassy. I think that’s what pissed off your mom so much. It’s easy to fight against Boden and those like him. It’s the citizens that she needs to win over. Most of them pity the people in the Warrens, some even want to help them, but none of them want these people as part of their society.”

  “They’re like me. They help because it makes them feel good about themselves.”

  “You are better than that. I feel your heart.”

  I glanced up at him, doubtful.

  “It’s a good heart. It glows.”

  “You see what you want to see, but thank you.” I squeezed his hand
. That was when I finally understood a little piece of how Hannah and my dad stayed so much in love. It was impossible for me to really stay mad at Sam when I could feel everything he felt. No secrets, no misunderstandings, and this vision he had of me in his head. I would never be able to live up to it, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. He was going to be in love with me even when I was mad or frustrated with him. I knew there was more to learn and I was looking forward to exploring all of it with him.

  When we got close to the workshop he whispered to me, “Just keep walking.”

  “Why?”

  “I should have let you keep your hood up. We’ve got a tail.”

  I felt like all the air had left my lungs and I couldn’t catch my breath. I stumbled over the next crack in the jagged pavement because my legs were shaking. Sam caught my arm.

  “Careful. She’s probably just a fan of your video. Let’s cut down this next alley and see what she has to say for herself.”

  I nodded slightly, terrified, trying to rest in the calm I felt in Sam’s mind.

  We turned sharply to the right and stepped back into shadow, waiting. Sam had his short gladius out. My sword was still sheathed since I had no idea how to use it other than as a pointy club.

  A figure came around the corner hesitantly. Sam grabbed her shoulder with his left hand, the gladius ready in his right. He paused, and the girl’s eyes looked as terrified as I felt.

  “Who are you?” he demanded, sounding fierce.

  I glanced at him. Yes, fierce, not adorable anymore.

  “Katarina, sir. I want no trouble.” She looked at the sword that was touching her stomach. “Please don’t.”

  “Why were you following me?” I asked gently.

  “You’re her, the girl that was in the market, the one they say is going to unite the Warrens.” She touched one of the loaves of bread in my arms. “I thought maybe I could help you.”

  “How?”

  Some of the confidence was coming back to her. “They say you’re the daughter of Ysabeau Romee. You’ve more important work than gathering poverty bread. Come stay with my family if you need food and a warm place to sleep.”