If We Were Giants

by Dave Matthews

  Kirra broke into a grin. “You got me. It was completely amazing.” She gave him a sly sidelong glance. “I caught a squirrel this time.”

  “Wow! Lemme see it!” Tiko dove for the pouch tied to her belt, grabbing at it with both hands.

  Kirra pushed his arms away. “I don’t have it anymore. I felt bad for taking it from its home, so I let it go.”

  Tiko crossed his arms and huffed. “You didn’t catch any squirrel.”

  Kirra’s grin got wider. “So that means you believe they do exist?”

  “No.”

  “If I get another one, do you want me to bring it back?”

  “Yes!”

  They both laughed. Tiko looked over at where their father was still talking to Kuzo at the entrance and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Did you talk to him about me going with you next time?”

  Kirra tousled his hair affectionately. One of the things she admired about her brother was that he didn’t share the usual Zeduan fear of everything beyond the crater walls. Tiko was dying to get Outside someday. “Oh, Tiko. You know he won’t even think about it until you get to Helper age.”

  His shoulders slumped. “It’s not fair.”

  Kirra glanced back at Taro, still tied up in conversation. “But I did bring something that might cheer you up.…”

  “Really? What is it?” Tiko was back at her, jumping up like a puppy. “Show me!”

  She laughed and untied the pouch. “First, I got you a little treat.” She pulled out a sack of honeyed nuts, which he accepted eagerly. “Hide those from Maja or she’ll only let you have two or three at a time.”

  “Oh, I will. Thanks, Kirra!”

  “And I brought you something else…” She glanced around conspiratorially. “If you can keep a really big secret…”

  Tiko’s eyes went wide. “No way,” he breathed. “You found more?”

  Kirra nodded. She reached back into the pouch and slowly removed her fist. With a dramatic flourish learned from watching her Storyteller father, she unfurled her fingers to reveal the three rough arrowheads she’d found while walking next to a creek. Kirra dropped the gifts into Tiko’s open palm, and he went silent as he studied them.

  War and weapons were foreign concepts in Zedu. The only knowledge of battle their people had was from the stories Taro told around the cook fires when he visited the various clans in the community. Kirra knew these stories were meant to be cautionary tales, examples of what could happen to their society if they stopped cooperating. But the taboo nature of the subject had the opposite effect on Tiko and his friends. They were fascinated with all the epic battles that no doubt must be raging somewhere Outside, and they secretly played Zeduan Warrior when no grown-ups were looking.

  He lifted the biggest arrowhead and turned it this way and that. “These are incredible. Thank you so much, Kirra!”

  She gave him a stern look. “Now, you’d better hide those even better than you do the treats, understand? Or we’ll both be in trouble.”

  Tiko nodded reverentially. Then his face lit up. “I have the perfect place! My secret spot. Come with me—I’ll show you.”

  Kirra called to her father, “I’ll look after Tiko. We’ll be home in time for lunch.” Taro waved at her, and she hustled to join her brother.

  She smirked at the idea of a “secret spot.” Pretty much every nook and cranny of the volcano’s interior had been mapped out years ago. Nothing was truly hidden in Zedu—there simply wasn’t enough room for secrets.

  They neared the end of the ledge where they had entered the volcano’s interior, but Tiko ran past the stone staircase carved into the crater wall. There were many ways other than the stairs to get from one broad terrace to another: You could rappel down on climber’s ropes, or take the crank-powered wooden elevator, but Tiko preferred to—

  “Woo-hoo!” he yelled as he leaped straight off the edge and plunged to a cushion of moss and leaves waiting below. Kirra rolled her eyes, yet she had to admit as she made the same jump that it was fun to feel her stomach flip-flop as her body rushed through the open air.

  She popped up from the soft pile and had to jog to keep pace with Tiko as they circled the volcano’s towering walls, heading to his hideaway.

  Kirra waved to people as they rushed past. There was Meena, one of her old teachers, playing with a group of small children in front of her hut. And there was Samos, who delivered fresh milk each morning from the goat pens. And a group of Builders and their Helpers, patching up a suspension bridge that spanned two prominent terraces. It was comforting to watch the Zeduans care for their home and for one another. As Kirra got older, she took in more details about how the community functioned. Everything was in balance. Her people lived in harmony with each other and the resources that the volcano provided.

  Tiko had clambered up a series of staircases until he was more than three-fourths of the way to the rim of the crater. Kirra, not well rested from her all-night journey in the cart, found herself wheezing as she tried to keep pace.

  She looked up to see her brother beckoning to her. He had stopped at the base of one of the Courier zip-line stations.

  By the time she made it up to that terrace, Tiko had flopped on the ground, panting, and was watching the Couriers. The station—one of six evenly spaced around the interior of Zedu—was a wooden platform up on eight-foot supports. Zip-line cables radiated out like spokes of a wheel, connected to various terraces clear across the other side of the volcano.

  A Zeduan citizen who needed to send something to a different clan brought it to the station and dropped it off. Then a Courier put it in a pouch, secured themself in a harness attached to a zip line, and stepped off the platform that extended right out over the lip of the terrace, hundreds of feet above the ground below. The result was an exhilarating ride through the air to the delivery spot.

  Tiko watched, rapt, as another Courier stepped off into nothingness and in mere seconds was no bigger to the eye than a dot, zooming halfway across the vast volcano.

  Kirra sat down and nudged Tiko. “That would be the perfect job for someone I know.…”

  “It would be fun,” Tiko admitted. “But you know I want to be a Builder.”

  They sat there for a moment, catching their breath. “Well,” Kirra finally said as she looked around, “aren’t you going to take me to your hiding place?”

  Tiko put a finger to his lips. He was watching the activity on the platform closely. “We have to wait until they’re all busy.…”

  A few moments later, a man climbed the steps and approached a Helper, while another Helper assisted a Courier with her harness straps. There were no other Couriers or Helpers to take notice of the two kids down below. Tiko jumped up, grabbed Kirra’s hand, and pulled her underneath the wooden stairs. They raced along below the Courier platform, made it to the rock wall where the structure was secured, and then Tiko wedged himself into a crack in the wall and disappeared.

  Kirra was impressed. Tiko had actually managed to find a hidden nook. And the positioning of the Courier station would keep prying eyes away from it. Clever.

  When she followed him into a sort of cave that formed a little room, she was even more impressed. Using material that was clearly left over from various construction projects, he and his friends had built tables and chairs, a couple of hammocks, and even a target board for a game of rolly darts.

  “Wow, Tiko. This is nice! The Builders would be crazy not to take you when you’re old enough.”

  “Thanks!” Tiko beamed at the praise. “It took us forever to sneak in all the supplies.” He stood on tiptoe to retrieve a wooden box from a little shelf of rock and stashed his arrowheads inside. “It’s been easier lately, because all the grown-ups are getting ready for the harvest festival.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot about that.” Kirra had been away a little longer than she’d realized.

  “I never forget about that—it’s my favorite time of year.”

  “You like it more than your
birthday?”

  “Way more. The grown-ups are always so busy during the day, and then they go to bed early and sleep hard all night. Us kids can do whatever we want!”

  Kirra smiled and shook her head. She should have known.

  Tiko tugged on her cloak again. “Now, tell me all about your adventures this time! Don’t leave anything out. And no teasing.”

  Kirra laughed. “I promise.” They cuddled up in one of the hammocks, and she told him everything she could remember. When she listed the animals Paja had pointed out to her as they hiked along, Tiko peppered her with questions about the beasts they’d had to hide from, especially the crocodiles. She told him about a place on the riverbank where the water was so wide you could hardly see the other side. She described what it was like to almost lose yourself in a real forest. She reported on what the kids were wearing in distant villages, along with what games they were playing.

  When she finally tired of answering all of Tiko’s eager questions, she yawned and stretched. “We should be getting back. I know Maja will want to know where we are.” Tiko grumbled a bit before reluctantly agreeing. Then they snuck out from under the Courier platform and made their way home.

  The huts were arranged in a semicircle that formed a courtyard where the children could be watched by all the parents of their clan. Kirra became a bit nostalgic for the times before she was a Helper, when there were countless hours to play out here with all her friends.

  The courtyard was empty at midday, however, with everyone either off at school or doing their jobs around the community. Maybe she could sneak in a nap before—

  “Kirra!” Her mother burst from the hut and came straight for her. “You’re here! You’re safe!” Djiahna grabbed Kirra in a fierce hug, pulled back, and held her by the shoulders to study her face, then hugged her tightly again. “You are safe.”

  Wow. Kirra knew Maja was perpetually nervous when her daughter was on the Outside, but this welcome seemed…different somehow. A little more frantic than usual.

  Kirra looked over Djiahna’s shoulder at Tiko, let her tongue hang out the side of her mouth, and made a face like she was being suffocated to death. “Yes, Maja,” she croaked. Tiko giggled.

  Taro stepped out of the hut, and Kirra glanced over at him. She furrowed her brow. Paja was usually very relaxed after returning home, but right now his eyes looked clouded with concern.…Was something going on?

  Djiahna finally stopped hugging Kirra so tightly, but she still held on to her daughter’s shoulders as she stepped back to study her. “Oh my, you look thin, my dear. When was the last time you ate? Were you warm enough at night?” She glanced at her spouse. “Taro, why is she covered in grime? Don’t you ever make sure she washes when you go wandering about? I know for good and certain that there are plenty of lakes and streams in the Outside. Has no other village managed to invent soap?”

  “All is well, Maja,” Kirra said.

  Djiahna studied her, eyebrows scrunched up. “Sometimes I worry that you are becoming just as good as your father at telling stories.…”

  “But that’s the plan, Maja.”

  Djiahna finally broke into a smile and hugged her again. “I suppose it is. Come in, there’s some stew left over. I’ll warm it up for you.”

  Kirra and Tiko walked into the hut. Taro put a comforting arm around Djiahna as they followed. Her mother was whispering, but Kirra could still make out the words. “You promise that no one saw the two of you…no one who shouldn’t have?”

  Taro whispered in return, his tone pleasant, “No, my love. It was a good trip. Very successful.” He nodded in Kirra’s direction. “You would be proud of our daughter. She is learning quickly. Someday she will be a fine Storyteller.”

  Kirra’s heart glowed with the recognition from her father, but it was short-lived, as she couldn’t help but think that something was not quite right between her parents.

  Lunch was served, and the family talked and laughed and reveled in being reunited once again. But Kirra kept an eye on her parents. The little secret glances they gave each other. The sleep circles under Paja’s eyes. The worry lines around Maja’s eyes and the way her mouth, usually so smiley, kept turning down at the corners.

  Kirra sighed. Grown-ups. They always thought they were being so secretive. But they never were. When would they realize kids weren’t stupid?

  Kirra decided she’d find out exactly what was going on.

  KIRRA LIFTED THE TOP OFF the great wicker basket, climbed inside, and got down on her knees, then carefully eased the lid back into place. Long ago, she had made a small hole in the basket at eye level, and through it she gazed out at the little grove of banyan trees in the center of the courtyard.

  And she waited.

  She felt a twinge of guilt about eavesdropping. But it quickly passed. After all, if her parents didn’t want her to listen in on their private conversations, then they shouldn’t have them in the same place every time.

  And they shouldn’t be hiding important things from her anyway. She understood the need to have secrets around Tiko, especially if they were about things that affected the whole community. He wouldn’t understand, and he might share them with his group of friends. But Kirra was an official Helper now. She had been Outside four different times! Someday she would be entrusted with keeping her people safe by spreading stories about the fire demons, and also with keeping the lore and legends of Zeduan history alive, just like her father. She had worked hard and deserved to hear about anything that was going on.

  Just when her legs had started to cramp, her parents finally appeared, brushing aside the bamboo curtain at the back entrance to the family hut. Kirra saw Maja scan the courtyard for anyone who might be about, but at this time of the evening, everyone had likely finished up dinner and was now busy with festival preparations down in the village square. Luckily, Maja didn’t think it necessary to check inside the wicker basket.

  “So,” Taro said, “there were more sightings? In just the three weeks we were gone?”

  Kirra watched through the little hole as her mother nodded. “Once on the steppe over on the southeastern side—a group of them driving cattle. And again a few days later, near the river. We can’t be certain, of course, but it looked like they were surveying a good spot for a bridge, if you can imagine that. Then a third time, only the day before you got home. There were three of them, and it looked…” She took a shaky breath. “It looked like a scouting party of some sort. Poking around, spying, writing on a large parchment. Like they were making a map!”

  Djiahna brushed away a tear with the sleeve of her robe. Paja held her close. Then she started again in a stronger voice. “Taro, that last one was the worst. I was expecting your return at any moment, and they were so near the trail you always take. When I got the report, I was certain you and Kirra were going to run right into them.”

  “I’m sorry you were worried, my love. Does anyone else know about the sightings?”

  Djiahna shook her head. “The Watchers report directly to the Elder Council. They are sworn to secrecy.”

  Kirra wondered what she could be talking about. Maja was a Helper for the Council, and so most of the secrets of the tribe were shared with her. In just a few years, Djiahna would be eligible to be elected to an official position on the Council itself, and then she would know everything there was to know about Zedu.

  It wasn’t usually big news when people were spotted in the vicinity. Sometimes Outsiders wandered by the volcano as a matter of course. It was to be expected. And that was the job of the Watchers: to track their movements and let the Council know when they had safely passed. So why were her parents so worried now that—

  “And the Watchers were sure it was them?”

  Djiahna scoffed. “With the way they look, could they be mistaken for anything else? Plus, they’re so big and clumsy and loud. Trust me, the Watchers are certain.”

  Taro shook his head slowly, worry lines creasing his face. “In the last village we were in,
Lukweii, a man was spreading terrible stories about them. They fit with what we’ve been hearing for months now. He called them the Takers.”

  Kirra put a hand over her mouth to smother a gasp. The Takers were real? Why hadn’t Paja told her when she’d asked about them?

  Djiahna harrumphed. “Takers. A perfect name for them.”

  “And there’s more. This man said that…” Taro took a deep breath. “He said that they had been spotted in Nafaluu.”

  Djiahna’s eyes went wide, and her hand covered her heart. “So close?” Taro nodded. “What are we going to do?”

  “We are Zedu. We continue as we always have. I spread the stories and our people stay safely out of sight.”

  “But, Taro, how long can that last? How long until we realize we may have to defend ourselves? Just like everyone else on Maja Earth who has something worth fighting for.”

  Kirra had to stifle another gasp. Fighting? It was like hearing Maja use a profanity.

  Her father looked as surprised as Kirra felt. “Surely there is not talk on the Council of war?”

  “Of course there is,” Djiahna whispered fiercely, even though no one else was in the courtyard. She pulled out of her husband’s embrace. “What we have here is special, Taro. You have traveled, so you know this better than anyone.”

  “But fighting goes against everything our people believe in.” He threw his hands into the air. “If we fight, we’ll no longer have what we’ve built here! All would be lost even if we won.”

  Kirra was chewing on her lip so hard she could taste blood. She wasn’t sure what was more unsettling—this talk of fighting and the Takers, or seeing her parents disagree so strongly.

  “Have you ever considered, Taro, that there will come a time when we don’t have a choice in the matter?”

  “Of course I have, but that doesn’t mean—”

  “How many generations do you imagine will live here in peace, undiscovered? Nothing lasts forever. Zedu must adapt in order to survive.”

  Taro’s shoulders slumped. “But at what cost?”