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If Tomorrow Comes

Page 32

by Nancy Kress


  The wind picked up, that wind that had saved so many lives, bringing to Leo the same spicy scent of fruit and leaves as when he arrived. Weird to have no seasons. No seasons, no other continents, no other languages, so many restrictions on having kids and not having normal tech and not making too much money. Weird to give away a big chunk of what you did have, every illathil. And still pay taxes. Weird to live by bu^ka^tel, which Leo still didn’t really understand. Weird and unnatural and—

  Isabelle came across the starlit field toward him.

  He knew it was her long before he could make out her face. He knew by her gait, by the way she held her head, by her Isabelleness. His heart began a slow, steady thud like a dance beat, or a dirge.

  “I greet you, Leo,” she said in Kindese.

  “I greet you, Isabelle,” he said in the same language.

  Then, for what seemed a very long time, neither spoke. Finally Leo could stand it no longer. His lips felt dry, but he got out one word. “Austin?”

  “He’s staying here.”

  “Poor kid.” Leo meant it.

  “You understand, don’t you, his dilemma. Either choice, he loses something.”

  “Well, that’s always how it goes, isn’t it?”

  For answer, she moved into his arms. Her lips were soft and full and sweeter than anything had ever been before in his life. But after one long kiss, he held her slightly away from him and braced himself for another loss. If that had been a good-bye kiss.…

  He said, “Your sister?”

  “To Terra. You knew that.”

  “And if Austin isn’t going to take care of her, are you?”

  “No. I belong here, Leo. And … and you?”

  “I’m staying. I sort of think I’m needed here. Even though that sounds so full of ego shit.”

  “It’s not. World does need you. And so do I.”

  So not a good-bye kiss. Leo seized her again and held her close. They would stay here, and he would learn this planet and organize some sort of army that could protect it if the Russians ever returned. Or if the Kindred “no war” tradition changed. This planet needed an army; it just didn’t know that yet. He’d have Lu^kaj^ho to help him recruit, and Zoe to help train new units. If he stayed, Zoe would, and it would be a good thing to have your best friend as second in command.

  Owen …

  No. This was different. Owen was over. This was a new day, and he and Isabelle had places in this new world and work to do. Separately, and together.

  * * *

  The ship lifted. Marianne watched a planet fall away below, as she had twice before. On the Endeavor, on the Friendship, and now on the Return.

  She had no idea what she, what any of them, might find on Terra. Twenty-eight years would have passed there by the time their ship landed. She had left a planet facing political, economic, and environmental struggles so violent that they mirrored the Darwinian arms race of R. sporii verses its virophage. Not an unapt comparison, not at all.

  Branch said, “I wonder how long before we jump.”

  Neither Marianne nor Claire answered him, because there was no answer. All they could do was wait and see.

  She had a headache, right behind her eyes. Well, no wonder—little sleep, too much stress, and anyway she was too old for this. From now on, she would stay put.

  “I have a headache,” Branch said.

  Claire frowned and touched her own forehead. Had they all caught a last bug, the Kindred equivalent of a cold? Well, it didn’t matter, not compared to the bigger adventure. Some of their band—she’d almost thought “lahk”—had stayed on Kindred to rebuild, because humans always do.

  She wished them well.

  The stars blinked out, and the ship jumped.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to thank my beta readers, all three of whom were a tremendous help with this novel: Douglas Pressley II, US Army, for his help with military matters; Dr. Maura Glynn-Thami for sharing her medical expertise and providing me with “doctor words”; and my husband, Jack Skillingstead, for his always valuable literary insights.

  I would also like to thank my agent, Eleanor Wood, for her indefatigable efforts on my behalf.

  TOR BOOKS BY NANCY KRESS

  Beaker’s Dozen

  Beggars and Choosers

  Beggars Ride

  Crossfire

  Crucible

  If Tomorrow Comes

  Maximum Light

  Probability Moon

  Probability Space

  Probability Sun

  Steal Across the Sky

  Tomorrow’s Kin

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Nancy Kress is the bestselling author of multiple science-fiction and fantasy novels, including Beggars in Spain, Probability Space, and Steal Across the Sky. Kress is the recipient of the Nebula, Hugo, Sturgeon, and Campbell awards. Her fiction has been translated into multiple languages, including Klingon.

  @nancykress / nancykress.com, or sign up for email updates here.

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Epigraphs

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Acknowledgments

  Tor Books by Nancy Kress

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  IF TOMORROW COMES

  Copyright © 2018 by Nancy Kress

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art by Stephan Martiniere

  A Tor Book

  Published by Tom Doherty Associates

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  New York, NY 10010

  www.tor-forge.com

  Tor® is a registered trademark of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC.

  The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

  ISBN 978-0-7653-9032-5 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-0-7653-9034-9 (ebook)

  eISBN 9780765390349

  Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.

  First Edition: March 2018

 

 

 


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