Silkpunk and Steam

by Sarina Dorie

  Her voice was a dull rumble. “I will fetch the grandmothers.” She ducked her head in a bow and kept her eyes on the floor. I was alone with him.

  Shiromainu’s silver wisps of hair clung to his scalp with sweat. When I touched his forehead, it was hot under my hand. I soaked a plant fiber cloth in a basin of water and draped it over his forehead. Eventually Grandmother Pirka came in alone, showing me where to rub salves on his body. Tomomi had abandoned me. Shiromainu was naked under the blanket, save for a diaper like a baby.

  He clutched at his blanket and swatted at her hands when she tugged at the fabric of his diaper. I turned away so I wouldn’t see his humiliation.

  “No!” he said in a reedy voice. “I will not have Sumiko-san present for this.”

  “She is your wife,” Grandmother Pirka clucked. “It is her duty to care for her husband.”

  “She isn’t my wife today. She hasn’t agreed to tsuma no koukan.”

  “Yes, I have,” I said.

  Shiromainu ignored me.

  “Stop being such an old fool and let your wife help. It is her duty,” the grandmother argued.

  “I will not have Sumiko-san here until she has formally become my wife.”

  The old woman argued with him until his voice grew weaker and fainter. His eyes drooped and he fell asleep.

  Grandmother Pirka showed me how to change his diaper and instructed me in the way to apply a salve with memory moss in it to his hip. When she was done, she bowed to him, though he couldn’t see the gesture.

  I followed her out to the hallway. “Please, tell me what has happened to Nipa,” I said.

  “For the last year he has been in ill health. He broke his hip several weeks ago. His blood has become putrid. He now has a cough. Fluid in his lungs. He insisted he’d be fine, that the illness would pass, but the signs show he won’t. He is too old and the sickness has weakened him, ne?”

  I nodded. My chest ached and a sour feeling rose in my throat like I might be ill. I swallowed the bad taste.

  She patted my cheek, her expression tender. “He calls for you in his sleep and sometimes asks about you upon waking. We thought it best to send for you since he doesn’t have long to live.”

  I nodded again. I blinked the tears from my eyes.

  “He said he didn’t want you here to see him like this, but when you weren’t here, he refused to let me care for him because he insisted these were the duties of a wife and only Sumiko-sama should see him like this.” She smiled and shook her head. “Now he says the opposite. He is as contrary as a tanuki, ne?”

  I sat alone with him. When he woke, I reapplied salves. I dabbed at his forehead with the wet cloth. He needed his diaper to be changed again. It was hard to say who this was more embarrassing for. I didn’t want to argue with him as the grandmother had.

  I bowed so low my forehead was inches from the floor. “Please excuse my forwardness. I wish you to take me into your tribe through tsuma no koukan.”

  He sighed and his chest rattled. “Have you thought this through, anata?”

  “The first time I was here you told me I was wise for my age. Have you come to doubt this?” I teased.

  He snorted. “Send for someone to witness our union then.”

  I ran out into the hallway, grabbing the first person I encountered. It was Pananpne. “Come with me, Pana. I need you as a witness.”

  “Iya! Sumiko-sama, I didn’t know you were here. When did you arrive?” She hugged me.

  “Hurry,” I said. I didn’t want Shiromainu to lie in a puddle of his own urine and for his discomfort to be worse.

  She followed me into his chamber. It smelled sickly sweet and heavy, even with the hide noren curtain tied back, but she didn’t let her disgust show. She bowed and kept her eyes low to the ground.

  I bowed next. “Shiromainu Nipa, will you honor me by allowing me to serve as your wife in tsuma no koukan?”

  “This is highly untraditional. I have given no one to your brother.” He clutched at his chest and coughed.

  Pana looked from me to her nipa with wide eyes.

  I dropped to my knees beside him. When he was done with his fit of coughing, I took his hand. “Please allow me to serve as your wife. No exchange is necessary. I do this for myself and you, not my brother.”

  “Very well then.” A wan smile crept across his lips. “It must be my good looks.”

  I bowed to Pana. “Thank you for serving as witness. Sumimasen,” I added to thank her and apologize for taking her time. “Please give us a moment of privacy. I will find you later.”

  She bowed and backed out the door, letting the heavy hide curtain fall closed after her.

  So much formality just for changing a diaper. Shiromainu turned his head away from me as I changed him. I did the work in silence so as not to bring attention to the fact that I was there.

  Once finished, I asked, “May I give you something to ease your pain?”

  He snorted and this brought on another bout of coughing. The fit left him winded, with tears spilling from his eyes. “There is nothing more you can do to ease the pain of an old man.”

  I blinked the tears away from my own eyes. “I can give you a happy memory.”

  When he made no reply, I retrieved the wooden box from his shelf in the corner. The moss within was brittle and dry. I suspected it was a year old, from the time I’d been there last. There was no tingle against my fingers as I crumbled it into a bowl and wet it. Perhaps it was too old. Perhaps Shiromainu was too old for this and I would make his condition worse. Then again, this might be all I could do to ease his suffering. I ground the lumpy paste with the mortar and pestle until it was smooth.

  The dull gray of the old herb brightened to green. A spicy aroma filled the air that almost masked the smell of sickness. I tested the paste on my fingers. The prickle was weak, but I suspected it was potent enough to use. I spread it on his naked chest and pressed my palms against him. With my eyes closed, I imagined summer. I remembered running through the trees, laughing and playing with other children. It was a short memory, just something small to bring him joy.

  When I broke away, a smile lingered against his lips. I wiped away the green paste.

  “Ah, you make my heart grow young and my body forget its age,” he said. He closed his eyes. His breathing came easier. “Tell me how you’ve fared, anata? Have you had enough to eat? How is your tribe?”

  I answered his questions and tried to bring joy into his heart with stories of my own tribe.

  “Tell me, are you a woman yet? Have you bled?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. “My tattoos still lie.”

  “You will be able to eat your fill here and grow stronger. It will make you into a woman.” His chest rattled as he breathed, and he gave a few little coughs before relaxing into his blankets.

  I put my hands on my hips and feigned mock insolence. “Have you lured me to your village in the pretense of fattening me up so I might become a woman for you to consummate our marriage? You’re hardly in any condition for such activities.”

  He laughed at that. This turned into a series of coughs. I gave him a bowl to spit his phlegm into and dabbed at his sweaty brow with a cool, damp cloth.

  “Stay close to me.” He squeezed my hand.

  “Of course, anata.”

  He napped again. When he woke and I changed him again, he pretended I wasn’t in the room. After I was done, I moved the soiled cloth to the far side of the room. That was the moment he greeted me as if seeing me for the first time since waking. I let him pretend, so that he might not have to acknowledge I had changed his diaper.

  He seemed well enough for conversation, if I didn’t make him laugh, for that led to coughing. When a grandmother came in and brought new clothes and hot soup, I sent for Tomomi to come in and visit. I knew he would be pleased to see her.

  “So how are you enjoying your husband?” Shiromainu Nipa asked Tomomi.

  I blu
shed, realizing he meant my brother. They weren’t intimate, were they? I didn’t want to hear about it if they were.

  She grunted. Her usual stern expression gave way to one of her rare smiles. “I serve Taishi Nipa as a warrior, not as a wife. You know that, Grandfather.”

  The hard angles of her face softened as she gazed at him. I wondered about her familiarity with him, to call him “grandfather” rather than “nipa,” but now wasn’t the time to interrupt.

  He shrugged. “Sometimes the heart changes after tsuma no koukan. The bond that ties you together remains strong. I assume that’s why you stayed. If not for love, for … something else.”

  She bowed her head. “I stayed to serve you and to serve him. Taishi Nipa is a good man and a good leader. He needed my support. And now I will tell you all I have learned about Faith-chan in the time I have lived among the Chiramantepjin… .”

  It struck me right away how she called Faith by name, not labelling her as “the gaijin” as so many others did. Not only that, but she pronounced Faith’s name correctly. She used the honorific “chan” rather than the formal “san” which meant she found Faith cute, feminine and charming like a child. This emphasized her lack of being a threat.

  Tomomi said, “In all the time I have spent amongst the Chiramantepjin, she has endeavored to be helpful. There are no secret liaisons between her and other gaijin. She has no intention of leaving the cave and fears her people as much as we do. To think her capable of treachery would be like expecting a child to plan a battle. She hasn’t such maliciousness in her.”

  I agreed Faith wasn’t malicious, but to say she was like a child was inaccurate. The way she wore her emotions on her face might be considered childish, but many of her customs differed from ours, including how she expressed her feelings. I held my tongue, trusting Tomomi to say the right things.

  Shiromainu raised a hand to stop her. “I appreciate your efforts, but you needn’t have stayed simply to tell me your observations. It doesn’t matter what you’ve seen. I can’t welcome the gaijin here.”

  Tomomi bowed her head. “I understand your view. But please consider that if Taishi Nipa saw fit to—”

  “Enough!” He lifted his head like he might try to sit up.

  I laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, reminding him to lay still. I needn’t have bothered. Pain was a stronger reminder. He fell back with a whimper.

  His breath was a raspy half-pant, half-cough. “I cannot allow any gaijin to our palace. Sumiko-san’s father told me of the gaijin and their ways, how they bewitch with their magic. The attack during the Flower Festival happened just after Shoko Nipa showed the off-worlders the ruins. This woman is daughter to that man. She will try to communicate with the kamuy in our sacred places like he did. More bad luck will befall our world if she finds the belly of our tatsu.”

  “My mother? And father?” I asked. I didn’t know what he was talking about. I tried to remember back to the day of the attack, but all I remembered was the ship shooting arrows made of lightning and the fear they would come after Shipo and me.

  Faith and Taishi told me the reasons gaijin invaded. It had nothing to do with our ancestors and sacred places. It was because they wanted the red chiramantep stones. Petennouk on the other hand, he was one of my people, and he had wanted to communicate with the kasha kamuy and gain its power. He was like Unyanke, the former Tatsujin leader Tomomi had told me about.

  “What did my father know about the gaijin?” I asked. “He wasn’t friends with them.” My mother had been.

  Tomomi arched an eyebrow. “Hmph. It looks like the two of you have something to discuss.” She bowed and left.

  Chapter Twenty

  Soon my endeavors in terrascaping will be complete. Planet 157 will be the perfect, flat geography and temperate climate for colonists and homesteaders. I anticipate the East Milk Way Trading Company will start up mining operations again and my search for the red diamonds will resume with renewed rigor.

  —Lord Archibald Klark in a hyperspeed message to an investor

  “Anata,” I said. “Tell me what you meant. What did my father know about the gaijin? Why do you think they would want to know about our sacred places?” I burned to know more about my parents and their connection to the gaijin.

  “I’m too tired to do more talking.” He closed his eyes. He did look tired. I didn’t want to burden him with conversation, but this was important.

  “I have worn you out. Forgive me,” I said.

  “Of course.”

  “Perhaps I can ease your mind and your pain with memory exchange instead. Would you show me what you were talking about?”

  “Gift me again with a memory,” he begged. “Something happy, anata.”

  Geari and duty was not what I had wanted to get out of memory exchange. Even so, I brought out the bowl and applied it to my hands. I could have stolen the memory the way Tomomi had shown me, but it would have been wrong to steal from an dying man.

  He had requested I give him a memory and I would.

  Never had doing the right thing felt more difficult. I yearned to give Shiromainu Faith’s memory, but I feared it wasn’t the time for politics. I’d seen how Tomomi’s words had vexed him and brought him more pain. Yet I also knew if I didn’t try to change his mind soon, he might never accept Faith into his tribe. Then what? Who would the new Nipa be and how would he or she react to Faith? The Chiramantepjin might never accept her.

  I had a feeling that whatever he had argued with Tomomi about was key to the reason why he distrusted Faith so much. Yet now wasn’t the time.

  I focused on my duty, giving Shiromainu happy times playing with Shipo to take his mind off his pain. After the memory, the tension from his muscles relaxed. His breathing came easier and he drifted off in his sleep. I was able to change his diaper without humiliating him.

  A grandmother came in and brought me bowls of soup to replace what had gone cold. It was real stew with large chunks of tender meat and vegetables. When Shiromainu woke, I lifted his head and spooned broth and tea into his mouth to sustain him.

  “How do you feel?” I asked him.

  “Your presence makes me stronger.”

  “Good. Then you are strong enough to tell me what my father told you about off-worlders.”

  He made a face like he tasted something sour. “You are persistent.”

  “Of course, I am. I have chiramantep in my blood.”

  He smiled. I thought he would deny me an answer, but he waved a hand at the box containing memory moss in it on the table. “Mix more and I will show you what I know.”

  I hydrated the moss and ground it up. In my haste, I was clumsy and spilled some on my attush, but Shiromainu didn’t notice. I undressed and painted it on his palms.

  He hesitated. I glanced down at my chest. It was just as flat as before, so that couldn’t be the reason for his reluctance.

  “My anata,” he said. “I’ve tried to protect you from these memories. You aren’t going to like what you learn.”

  I took his hands and placed them on my ribs. “Don’t worry about me. I’m strong.”

  “Promise me you won’t do anything rash after you taste my memories, ne?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Have you ever known me to be rash?”

  “Just promise.”

  I did so.

  I leaned over him so he could press his hands to my ribs more easily. My body was still a stick with ribs poking through my skin, but he didn’t act like he’d noticed. He closed his eyes and I closed mine.

  I slipped into the blackness like it was a stream. I felt his mind flowing into mine. The memory opened and I was in the jungle. My body was a man’s body. It was humid and I wiped sweat from my face. The trees were covered in yellow flowers. Tree snails chittered in the distance.

  Shoko’s husband, Ipetam, strode beside me. He wore no eboshi and the breeze ruffled his short hair. Red dots were painted over his chest. How I envied him to be
dressed so informally. My eboshi was heavy and oppressive in the heat.

  Ipetam spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want the jungle to overhear. “It was bad enough Shoko-sama told Earnshaw Nipa our stories. Or rather, she made Taishi-kun tell the stories because we don’t know enough words in the gaijin tongue. If only she’d listened to me.” He shook his head. He stopped and leaned against a tree. “This will be the death of us all. I just know it.”

  “I’m going to be late to the council meeting if you don’t walk any faster,” I said. Even if he did walk faster I was going to be late. I truly hoped whatever he needed to show me was as important as he claimed. Then again, Ipetam had never been one to be overly dramatic. It was likely this was worth missing the meeting—or part of it.

  He shook himself and kept walking. The trail sloped downward. “He told her stories about our ancestors. He said we didn’t travel from Earth in dragons at all, but in boats made of metal that fly in the sky. They call them starships.”

  I nodded. “I’ve seen these ships. They look like flying lizards.”

  “Just so. Our people invented the ability to travel across the stars, but along the way something happened and the knowledge of this came to be lost to the people on their world and ours. Only in the last few generations did their people discover a graveyard of ships intact. Their wise men worked hard to understand how these contraptions worked and with great effort, they reestablished travel across the galaxy, which is how they came to be here.”

  The path was only wide enough for one of us to descend the hill at once. Ipetam was still young and leapt down the slope with ease. I did my best to keep up, not wanting him to see how I had slowed in my old age. The air was as thick as soup in my lungs. I had to rest several times.

  The sun blazed down on me through the trees and I felt more annoyed with him than ever for dragging me on this journey. “What does any of this have to do with our sacred places?”

  “The star man asked if we knew of any places that might house the ships of the ancients and my wife told them we did.” He covered his face with his hands and shook his head.