Medusa in the Graveyard (The Medusa Cycle)
Page 11
Crow moved his head in stiff negation. “Time is running out. Others will be journeying into the canyon, too, with the permission of other entities.”
“Sheba and Bomarigala?!”
He didn’t confirm or deny that. “Say your goodbyes, Oichi. Pack your bags. Call Fire and tell her you’re coming. She is your liaison with the Alliance of Ancient Races. You won’t have to explain anything to her. Mine is the formal invitation you have been waiting for.”
All the confidence I had felt when talking with First and making command decisions had leaked right out of me. “Will you meet us there?”
“No,” he said, “and yes. You will be shepherded to the right places, Oichi. Whether you want to be or not.”
With that final word, he disappeared in a shower of sparks. One of them brushed my cheek, and I felt heat, but when I touched the spot, nothing burned there.
I said.
* * *
I steeled myself as I approached the quarters Nuruddin and Ashur shared. Before I could touch the buzzer, a rustling alerted me to another presence. Octoppin flowed around the corner and loomed over me. My heart skipped a beat. She must have heard that, because she backed up a pace.
Anguish twisted her features, not anger. I knew I was the cause of it. Had Medusa told her about our argument? Was she here to offer her own?
If Octopippin intended to be present while Ashur and I broke the news to Nuruddin, that would complicate the task considerably. I struggled to find a way to tell her so. Before I could make an attempt, she turned and flowed back around the corner. Faint scuffling accompanied her down the corridor.
If she had been an octopus, she would have left a cloud of ink in her wake, generated by grief, rather than fear.
Taking a deep breath, I sounded the buzzer. Ashur let me in. He looked far more resolute than I felt.
Nuruddin smiled when Ashur escorted me into their quarters, but that smile died when he saw the looks on our faces. “What’s wrong?”
I told him as gently as I could, but I was direct. “They want Ashur in the delegation,” I concluded.
“No,” said Nuruddin.
“Yes,” said Ashur. “I’m going.”
Nuruddin’s face hardened. He turned the full strength of his fatherly gaze on Ashur, and my resolve, already bruised by my last conversation with Medusa, withered.
Ashur stood firm. “I have made decisions, Father. I have suffered the consequences of those decisions. This is one of those consequences.”
He didn’t have to say what the others had been. Ashur’s pairing with Octopippin had been just one in a chain of decisions that had shattered their family. He and Nuruddin were just beginning to pick up the pieces. Watching them now, I could see that these two blamed themselves for all of that.
None of it was their fault—it was mine. I had made the fatal decisions that had forced them to make theirs. I was still making them.
I intended to keep making them.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t feel bad about it. Ashur was right—there were consequences to be faced, regardless of whether we acted or failed to act. Once we made up our minds, we seldom wanted to imagine all the ramifications.
“You can’t ask me to make this sacrifice,” said Nuruddin. “I won’t do it.”
“It won’t be a sacrifice,” said Ashur. “I’m going to succeed.”
I thought I should say something, but I couldn’t muster a word. Did I have a right to talk Nuruddin into letting his son take such a big risk? Did I have a right to tell Ashur he was right or wrong about his instincts?
Those were the wrong questions, of course. I asked them only because they were convenient. The ones I should have been asking didn’t occur to me until much later, when it was too late.
“If I don’t go,” said Ashur, “Lady Sheba and the Weapons Clan will get there first. All of us could die if they succeed. We could lose everything. We could lose Olympia.”
“You don’t know that,” said Nuruddin.
“I do know it. We are connected to the Three, Father. Our blood is theirs. I was—literally—made for this job. I’ve got to do it. I can’t shirk my responsibility just because I’m young.”
It was exactly the sort of argument Nuruddin would have crafted. Why couldn’t I have come up with something like that when I was arguing with Medusa? Admiration swept the doubt out of my mind. They were both such fine people; I doubted I could ever live up to their example.
“To me,” said Nuruddin, “this is like watching you march off to your death. I will lose you, Ashur.”
“You won’t,” said Ashur. “I promise. You know I keep my promises.”
When Nuruddin turned to me, his face had lost its iron support. If his eyes had not been artificial, I think he would have been crying. “How can you propose such a thing, Oichi? How can you risk Ashur’s life?”
That was the right question. Sadly, I could sidestep it by telling the truth. “I wanted to say no. This was an emissary from the graveyard. He says Kitten, Dragonette, Ashur, and I are the team. There are three hundred thousand lives on this ship that we’re trying to protect. We won’t be alone, Nuruddin. We have a guide who knows that canyon. They’re giving us their best. How can we do otherwise?”
Nuruddin shook his head. “I don’t want to say yes. I don’t want to speak the words that send my son into danger.”
I thought he would turn away from us, but he pulled Ashur into a fierce hug, and I realized what he was saying. He knew Ashur was going. He wasn’t saying yes or no. He respected Ashur’s decision, though he hated it.
My eyes are artificial, too, but I managed to squeeze out a tear. For me, that’s outright blubbering.
Nuruddin let Ashur go. He backed away from us. The anguish in his face broke my heart—but it didn’t change my mind.
Finally he turned and left us there. He shut the door of his sleeping quarters behind him.
Ashur looked stunned. “That’s what it means to be a father,” he said.
I clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Yes. Let’s get going.”
He picked up his bag. I sent him off to Merlin. I had one more stop to make.
* * *
How do you say goodbye to the most important person in your life?
As well as you can, I suppose. In my case, I embraced Medusa. She could be gentle with those tentacles—even the one that was still a bit wonky.
she said.
I patted a tentacle—an inadequate gesture.
I said.
she said.
That knocked me off-balance. Up until that moment, our parting had been going as well as those sorts of things ever do. Now I wasn’t sure how to conclude it.
Finally I backed up a step.
I stared at her. The face that looked back at me belonged to my partner, my friend. Yet it seemed the face of a stranger.
Well—at least now I knew what it was the Merliners had not been telling me. Medusa had been conducting her own negotiations with them. The fee
lings this revelation provoked in me were such polar opposites, they left me numb.
Others will be journeying into the canyon, too, Crow had said, with the permission of other entities.…
A moment before, Medusa had embraced me. She had expressed sorrow at the thought of losing me. It would have been sensible to ask her why she didn’t want to be on my team.
Yet I also felt glad she wouldn’t be. I couldn’t seem to confront the reason why. I felt as if she had just slapped me.
Some gentleness crept back into her expression, but it was grudging.
She studied me for a long moment. She seemed to be considering my argument.
They did—but I didn’t?
True, but she would also be less susceptible to my arguments and my affections.
I tried not to look over my shoulder as I walked away. I was pretty sure I would walk right into a wall.
PART THREE
NOW IS THE HOUR
12
Concerns, Prosaic and Otherwise
I don’t know if my version of love is enough to tie people to me. I suspect I’ve tried to protect them, to make up the difference. This is particularly sad, because I have failed to do so. That became clear twenty hours out from Graveyard, when I felt the menace hovering just outside Merlin.
It came from unexpected quarters, but when had it not? I had always put too much confidence in my own plans, and I had assumed I knew who all my enemies were.
Once again, I was wrong—catastrophically so, because in a few minutes, we were all going to be dead.
She didn’t answer.
* * *
Medusa went into hibernation as soon as she boarded Merlin. She arranged herself in a corner of Captain Thomas’s office, two tentacles gripping rungs that extended from the bulkhead, and wound the rest of her appendages so tight around her, you could barely tell what she had been. She had missed the wonder of sitting on the bridge and watching through the view windows as space seemed to stretch when Wilson activated the drive. She didn’t know how odd it was to be on the inside of the same sort of hole that had spirited Timmy away.
Somehow I had managed to alienate my partner. I couldn’t remember the last time I had called her my friend, and I didn’t know when the balance between us had changed, let alone why. I couldn’t shake the feeling that, whatever the reason, it had been my fault. That may have been my grandiosity talking. I suspected it was just common sense.
Despite the sorry state of my relationship with Medusa, I still believed I was doing the right thing. I should have enjoyed more confidence, but now that I was leaving Olympia, the only home I had ever known, I couldn’t decide how to feel. Was it scary or thrilling? Was it sad or wonderful? I wanted to turn around and go back. I wanted to find out what was around the next bend. I grieved that Medusa and I had so much disagreement between us.
I felt relieved that she had retreated into hibernation, where she couldn’t question my motives.
More succinctly, I was a mess, but I put on my best face.
I sighed. I didn’t want to feel jealous of Ashur for his positive attitude, but I had all I could do to appear calm and confident, so I went with the petty envy. I figured I would get used to it.
I think our hosts on Merlin expected us to feel cramped. We were confined to our bunks, the tiny mess hall, and the equally tiny exercise room, unless invited elsewhere. Both Ashur and I adapted to the limitations. We had spent most of our lives in the tunnels of Olympia. They seemed endless, but they were also narrow, and our living quarters had been small for most of our lives.
Plus we had our movie and music databases to amuse ourselves. Ashur had his Sunken Cathedral program to work on. Kitten had her show tunes—and both she and the other Minis enjoyed a lot more freedom on Merlin, since everyone adored them.
Yes, that was Minis—plural. Only Dragonette and Kitten could accompany Ashur and me into the graveyard, but Rocket and Teddy had talked their way onto Merlin.
said Teddy.
Good point. Fire liked the idea. Your little bio-machines will impress the Belters, she messaged. It’s true that they’ll look after your interests on Graveyard better than anyone else would.
Maybe Medusa was the one who would be looking after our interests. I didn’t agree with her about the Three, but I had to admit, the thought of her in the graveyard, even if she wasn’t with us, gave me some comfort. Especially knowing that Lady Sheba might be there, too, along with Bomarigala’s henchmen.
Henchmen. I felt a bit surprised I had never been inspired to use that word in a sentence before, considering my history. It was just the sort of word Medusa would have appreciated. Would we ever share that kind of rapport again? I supposed she’d eventually experience a jump while she was awake, but I wished she could have done it with me, this time.
It was just the sort of thrill she would have appreciated—though I had to admit, when the hole in space–time closed around us, I was reminded of something Medusa had said about my tiger screen. After it was gifted to me, I asked her to carbon-date it.
Barring an accident, my tiger will outlive me. He will always stand on the shore of a lake, waiting for waves to splash his feet. He’ll always be upset about it. I will always love him.
His reaction to those waves was my reaction to the unknown.
Ashur never interpreted the tiger’s reaction that way. “He doesn’t like water,” he said. “He’s got fur, maybe he thinks it’s messy. Once he jumps in, he’ll discover that he can swim, and he’ll go all kinds of places.”
How I envied Ashur his confidence and his sense of wonder.
Also his charm. The Merliners liked him much better than me. Okay, granted, I did try to kill them.
That was the funny thing. I had been wearing Medusa when that happened. Yet they liked her. They trusted her. Because she had stopped me? I wanted to tell them I was glad she had done that, but how do you find a diplomatic way to say something like that?
I didn’t blame them for their lack of trust. I watched them as much as they watched me—possibly more, since I’m sneaky. I accessed the Minis for remote viewing, and that’s when I learned something about our destination—the large asteroid, Maui.
Dragonette tutored me concerning the origin of the name.
Tricksters and Belters ahead of us. The goddess of nightmares behind. Can you blame me for feeling like the tiger at the edge of the lake? I’ll admit, my curiosity was piqued. Fire stoked it further when she sent me another message:
I have a little business to conduct on Maui, so we can meet early. We’re in luck! The Belters just completed several successful contracts, so they’re going to throw a luau, a big feast to celebrate. It should be in full swing by the time you arrive. There will be a lot of singing and dancing, so I thought you might enjoy a sample of traditional music from Oceania. There are some liner notes to go with the music so you know what kinds of instruments you’ll hear at the luau.
When I reviewed the notes, the list of instruments played in the recording included many I had never heard: tom-toms, boobams, Chinese glass, Japanese wind chimes, Hindu tree bells and anklet bells, jawbones, lava rocks and gourds, bamboo rattles, coconut shells, slit drums, tapping sticks, pebbles, ukuleles, bamboo nose flutes, aerophones, idiophones, xylophones, vibraphones, marimbas, timpani, gongs, cymbals, and even a bamboo organ re-created from Hawaiian antiquity. What did they sound like when played together?
From my position on my bunk, I could see Cocteau and Mirzakhani in their own, the doctor poring over medical journals on a tablet she called a reader, and Cocteau surrounded by stacks of actual hard copies of books that were secured to her bunk by straps. (Somehow she managed to sleep that way.) Her nose was buried in one titled Death Comes as the End. “My current mission is to read everything Agatha Christie ever wrote,” she said.