Heart Journey

by Robin Owens

  Then Raz was in the driver’s seat. He pushed the bar into the console, set navigation on auto. “To Nuada’s Sword,” he ordered the glider. “What entrance, Del?”

  “The north, closest to Captain Elder’s office,” she said.

  The trip was short and pleasant and silent, broken only by the patter of occasional drizzle. Del let herself relax and snuggle with Raz until they were in Landing Park, then at the entry ramp of the great Ship itself.

  “Nice glider,” Captain Ruis Elder said from the wide opening of a docking bay. He was a tall man, taller than she, with chestnut colored hair and brown eyes. She’d thought him the most handsome man she knew . . . before she’d met Raz. Her HeartMate.

  Captain Elder didn’t come close to examine the vehicle. He was a Null, a man who suppressed Flair—both of objects and people. Del didn’t mind the uncomfortable feeling of losing one of her senses much when she was with him, he was such an interesting man, but that had been when she was alone.

  With her Fam and her HeartMate, the effect on her was greater and lived like an unscratchable prickling under her skin. She ignored it, saw Raz cover his own discomfort and offer his hand to Captain Elder, saying, “Raz Cherry,” before she could introduce them. She shrugged. She cared little about formality, even though Elder was now in the ranks of the FirstFamilies Council.

  Raz had taken his cue from her—and Shunuk who had given one courteous bark and disappeared into the Ship. Ruis had been an outcast and didn’t insist on noble manners.

  “Pleased to meet you, GrandSir Cherry,” Ruis said. “We watch and enjoy your holograms.”

  Raz’s brow wrinkled.

  “The Ship has become adept in translating magical energy and spells into nanotech videos that I can use,” Captain Elder said.

  “Ah. Thank you.”

  Del grasped both forearms with Ruis. “Good to see you again.”

  Elder shook his head. “Ever since we’ve seen those fabulous maps, Ship has been nagging me to get you here for a consult to reconcile its own charts.”

  He stepped back and patted her on the shoulder, turned, and led the way to the interior. The iris door wheeled shut after them. Raz laced fingers with her.

  “Greetyou, Helena D’Elecampane,” the Ship said. Its voice didn’t sound like just one person to Del.

  “Ah, you have a composite voice,” Raz said.

  She should have known he’d pick up on that.

  “You have a companion, D’Elecampane?” Ship asked.

  As if it didn’t have video and audio and already knew who Raz was.

  Raz turned to a point and bowed. Following his gaze, Del noticed the camera.

  Bands of rainbow light flashed through the curving metallic corridor, running up and down the tube.

  “Stop that,” Ruis Elder snapped. “It’s rude to body scan visitors, especially since you know who the man is. You have his work transcribed in your archives.” Elder sighed. “Cerasus Cherry, please meet the Ship, Nuada’s Sword.”

  Raz bowed again. “A pleasure indeed.” He used one of his mellow actor’s voices.

  “Greetyou,” the Ship said, with a grudging note in its tones, then continued. “You are not of the genetic heritage of one of my colonists.”

  “No,” Raz agreed easily. Del noted that he was holding his body in that casual way that meant he wasn’t casual at all. “My Family is descended from colonists of Lugh’s Spear.”

  A loud whispering hiss whirled through the corridors like dry and crackling autumn leaves caught in a wind scraping against buildings. “I am the last starship, the only one who survived.”

  “Everyone knows that, Ship,” Captain Elder said, tromping with fast paces down the hallway to the area Del was most familiar with, one of the chambers where the Ship kept its maps.

  “My Captain was more skillful than poor Lugh’s was, set me down right here near the coast and river just as planned. A fine place for colonists. My sentience remained entire and grew.”

  “Lugh’s Spear was less intact, more fragmented after the generations of travel at the time of landing,” Raz said. “Her Captain was extremely skillful in getting her down to the planet with only one breach of the hull. And the land he chose was good, fertile, between Fish Story Lake and the Deep Blue Sea.”

  “The land may have been fertile, but it was weak and collapsed beneath Lugh’s Spear, burying it within weeks of the landing. Then the location of Lugh’s Spear was lost,” Elder said.

  “People have looked for it but never found it,” Del murmured.

  Raz sighed. “My ancestress kept a journal of her life and the landing and the trek to Druida after the cave-in of the land under Lugh’s Spear. But the diary, too, was misplaced. That can happen over four hundred years.” Now Raz was stiff.

  “The Tabacin Diary!” the Ship said.

  “Yes, that was her name before she adopted ‘Cherry.’ ”

  “I knew that,” the Ship said.

  “Of course you did,” Captain Elder soothed.

  “I am recalling your Family legends,” Ship said.

  “What?” Raz said.

  “One or two were entered into my database a couple of centuries ago.”

  Raz swallowed. His eyebrows rose. “Really?”

  “Yes. I believe I was consulted for information on your Family and Lugh’s Spear because the journal went missing.”

  Raz made a noncommittal sound.

  The Ship continued, “It was said the diary described the exact location of Lugh’s Spear.”

  “So we were told,” Raz said. His face was stiff as if he covered anger or shame on behalf of his Family. He glanced back over his shoulder the way they had come, and Del knew he was considering leaving, even though he was still curious, and the Ship had tempted him with information.

  “I thought you were interested in speaking with Del about her new maps,” Elder said.

  “Maps, yes.” The Ship was distracted by the Captain’s change of topic. “My maps must be updated. That is of primary importance.”

  “As opposed to old Cherry legends,” Raz murmured in Del’s ear. If the Ship heard him, it ignored them. Captain Elder threw them a humorous glance over his shoulder as he rounded a bend in the corridor.

  “We’ll get back to that,” Raz said, his brows lowering in determination.

  One more thing that weighed heavy on Del, that she hadn’t considered when she first went searching for her HeartMate. Raz was close to his Family.

  “Maproom Two, Del,” Captain Elder, now out of sight, called.

  She and Raz were lagging. She because her head was throbbing with problems, Raz because he was craning to see everything.

  “Maproom Two,” she muttered herself, knowing that it would soon be her turn to argue with the Ship.

  Twenty

  Captain Elder showed them to a chamber with metallic walls. Del blinked to see all her new maps hung, the individual ones and the two huge ones that compiled the work of her last five years.

  “Fabulous,” Raz breathed.

  “They are the best charts since the colonists have landed,” Captain Elder said.

  “There is a discrepancy in this map”—the Ship pulsed a green glow around it—“and one of the maps you did fifteen years ago.” The one next to it was backed by a blue glow. Del strode up to the older chart and nearly winced. Her early work. A little crude.

  “You’re right.” She traced the outline of a lake that had become larger on her newer map, touched a point. “There has been an increased flow in the river. There’s an underground spring and a fault opened more.” She stopped and cast her mind back to the first time she’d seen and mapped the area.

  Since it was just off the road to Gael City, in a location where there were noble estates, current charts were always wanted. “I did the first map in the spring, and the second last year.” Before she’d met her HeartMate and had fully mastered the 3-D holos that now projected out from her later maps like they were miniature terra-forming pr
ojects. From the corner of her eye she saw Raz studying one that she’d done lately.

  “Thank you,” said the Ship. “And the elevations on this chart”—the glows had faded from behind the maps she was standing before and the backlight came from one across the room—“are not congruent with the maps I have.”

  “Of over four centuries ago. Let’s see yours.” She waited until the wall turned into a screen and a map was projected on it. The thing was fuzzy and colored oddly. “From space?”

  “Yes,” the Ship answered.

  She waved a finger. “Move it fifty degrees west.” The ship did and Del saw the blue green curve of the planet. A little more green than she recalled seeing from charts made by the Ship. The wrong color. “Ship, is this a viz you made?”

  The Ship hummed. “Accessing data.” There was a short silence, and it said in a slightly higher mass voice, “My memory of the origin of the chart is not available.”

  “Very agitating time,” Captain Elder soothed. “Entering a planetary atmosphere after centuries, with physical deterioration of all Ships, and the unfamiliarity and excitement of the crew.”

  “Discovery Day,” Raz murmured. “Such an eventful day would tax any being to keep track of every little detail.”

  The Captain smiled at him. “Exactly.”

  Del nodded, rocked a little, heel to toe. “Ship, show me the entry path and planetary circling of Arianrhod’s Wheel. That data should be recorded as a greater priority to you and may still be in your memory.”

  The chart shrunk until it was a full planet, rotating, a streak of bright yellow appeared.

  “Now show your trajectory and Lugh’s Spear’s.”

  Bright blue showed as the well-known path of Nuada’s Sword circling the planet, landing where it was now, on the edge of the continent, the western boundary of Druida City. Then a bright green streak appeared, circled, and landed between Fish Story Lake and the Deep Blue Sea.

  “Lugh’s Spear.” Raz’s breath sighed out. “Could we find exactly where it landed and was lost from this?” He’d gone tense with excitement beside Del.

  “The data has deteriorated over the centuries,” the Ship admitted.

  Del said, “The landing streak is wide, too wide to figure out an exact location, I think. And the margin of error—”

  “Is too great,” the Ship said. “I never knew the accuracy of these trajectories. Nor the accuracy of Lugh’s Spear and Arianrhod’s Wheel’s measuring instruments. Also their comm systems may have distorted the data.”

  “All the ships were relaying information to each other,” Captain Elder said. He laid a hand on the wall. “Massively busy time.”

  “Yeah,” Del said.

  Raz came behind her until his body brushed hers and took her mind off charts and maps and planets and the exciting and significant event of Discovery Day. Her body pulsed with longing. She was becoming used to him, to sex—loving.

  He set his left hand on her waist and reached out with his right to trace the touchdown of Lugh’s Spear, the ship in which his forebears had arrived. “Captain Hoku of Lugh’s Spear fought to make a good landing in a good area. Panic among much of the great crew. Calmness on the bridge. The set down rougher than he’d thought. The ship breaks. Atmosphere pours in. So does glorious sunlight.” His finger stroked the end smear of Lugh’s Spear’s trajectory.

  Del turned in his arms. “That’s from your Family stories?”

  He blinked, shook his head, lips curving. “Yes.”

  “Good stories,” Captain Elder said.

  “We don’t have that one in our databanks,” Ship fretted. “It must be from the lost diary. We would like to hear everything you recall of such stories. No one ever tells me everything. Humans keep secrets. Then they die with them.”

  “A cheerful thought,” Captain Ruis said.

  “Both Lugh’s Spear and Arianrhod’s Wheel had casualties. I had none.” The walls around them rang with the pride in Ship’s voice.

  Captain Elder winced, then touched the end point of the green path. “Arianrhod’s Wheel broke in more than one place when it landed in what became Chinju, was cannibalized later.” Again he touched the wall of his sentient home.

  “It had not developed intelligence,” the Ship said, and all three humans sighed again.

  “We don’t have many here in Druida City that arrived on Arianrhod’s Wheel,” Captain Elder said.

  Nuada’s Sword continued, “They were more skilled craftspeople, only a couple were of the FirstFamilies who financed the colonization. That ship was the least well built. I was and am the one who developed intelligence during the voyage. I carried most of the FirstFamilies, and the DNA of Earthan animal and plant life. Arianrhod’s Wheel had the best libraries of Earthan crafts and technology.”

  “And Lugh’s Spear?” asked Captain Elder.

  “Lugh’s Spear carried the most information regarding the type of psi powers of the original colonists, both those in the cryogenics tubes and that which the crew developed during our long flight.”

  “What treasures we would find on Lugh’s Spear!” Raz said.

  “It would make the discoverer wealthy beyond all imagination,” Captain Elder said.

  He’d know. He and Nuada’s Sword had become incredibly rich since he’d become the Captain.

  “We were talking about my maps and discrepancies.” Del reeled them back on topic. She tapped the first yellow path. “See, it’s Arianrhod’s Wheel that had the trajectory to feed you the information about that first map we discussed.”

  “Very well,” the Ship said.

  “That all the discrepancies you have?” she asked the Ship.

  “Yes,” the Ship answered, but she got the feeling that this sentient starship was brooding on the blanks in its memory.

  Raz cleared his throat. “Ah, Nuada’s Sword?”

  “Yes, Cerasus Cherry?”

  Raz shifted even closer and Del knew it was because he was nervous . . . and she gave him comfort. Nice. “My father and I share a hobby of making miniature models of yourself, Lugh’s Spear, and Arianrhod’s Wheel. It’s occurred to me that the plans and specifications we have may not be correct. Is it possible—”

  “You do?” the Ship said.

  “Yes.”

  “Models. Plans. Another thing we could market . . .” Captain Elder said.

  “I will give you our plans as you wish. In what proportions?”

  “Ah, I will have my father, T’Cherry, contact you,” Raz said.

  “Done,” Nuada’s Sword said.

  Raz said, “And you might want to check the specs at the Guildhall to make sure there aren’t any discrepancies there. And, ah, I’d like to take a tour with my father . . .”

  “Visitors are always welcome. I authorize Captain Elder to show you all my restricted places.”

  “Thank you,” Raz said and bowed to the camera. Once again he’d noticed it sooner than Del. She was more interested in the feel of Raz against her than history, no matter how exciting Discovery Day had been.

  “In return for your Cherry stories,” Ship added.

  Raz laughed. “We’ll do that. I’ll tell him to think about the stories.”

  “You might ask your sister, too,” Del said.

  “She’s younger than I am.”

  “You, an actor, should know that different people remember different things, can learn differently”—she gestured around them—“express themselves differently.”

  This time Captain Elder gave a little cough and looked at her.

  “Yes?”

  “You make those landscape globes, right?” he said.

  “Yes.” And once again she became aware of the lack of Flair around her. She’d been able to ignore it.

  “Could I buy one for my wife’s Nameday? She can keep it at her offices in JudgementGrove.”

  “I’ll be glad to give you one”—she made a half bow—“for all your help here.”

  He snorted. “My duty, to interface betwe
en Ship and the rest of Celta.”

  “Ah, Ship and Captain Elder?” Raz said. “It occurs to me that you might want to know there is a revival of the play Heart and Sword in Gael City. Do you have contacts there?”

  “I want a viz of it!” the Ship said.

  “The Ship is very noble in that play,” Captain Elder said.

  “As are Captain Bountry and Fern Bountry.”

  The present Captain shrugged. “The Ship’s technological connections with Flair don’t work as far as Gael City.”

  “My friend is playing Fern Bountry—” Raz said.

  “We could travel down and viz it for you,” Del said. She’d been wanting to get away with Raz, and more than once. “The Cherrys’ express airship takes only a few hours.”

  But Raz stepped away from her, his face impassive. Dammit! She’d moved too fast—had been moving slower than she’d liked and now had pressed too far too fast. It had been easier when her mind and emotions had been more focused on Helendula.

  She took her own pace or two away from Raz. No use letting him think that she would pursue him if he ran. Not only did she have her pride, but she was trying to be subtle.

  So she shrugged through her hurt, put a calm expression on her face. They’d been together a lot over the last couple of days and she wanted more, especially time alone with him. Yearned for that. Too bad.

  She smiled at Captain Elder, dipped her head. “I’ll work on that landscape globe for you.”

  When she turned to Raz—who had his hands in his pockets—she said, “I know you have a matinee performance. You need to get home and change, or to the theater.” He liked to meditate before a performance on that couch of his. She’d already ordered a world tapestry delivered to the theater that morning, so it would be there when he walked into his dressing room. That would remind him of her. She didn’t know if that was good or bad right now, whether it would push him away or not. “Shunuk and I will run home,” she said.

  “It’s raining,” Captain Elder said. “But there’s a public teleportation pad in a gazebo in Landing Park.”

  Del shrugged again, shifted. “A little rain won’t hurt us. We’re used to it on the trail.” May as well not watch her tongue around Raz since he’d withdrawn for her. She’d remind herself who she was and what her future plans—to map the world—were. But she stepped up to her HeartMate and kissed him on the mouth, only feathering her tongue along his lips.