The Year's Best Science Fiction - Thirty-Third Annual Collection

by Gardner Dozois

  Sanjay and his father waved back, and then they stood together on the shore and quietly waited until her boat couldn’t be seen anymore.

  II

  In the days that followed, Sanjay did his best to put his mother’s banishment behind him. With less than three weeks—thirteen days—left in summer, there was much that needed to be done before the season changed: fish to be caught, dried, and preserved, seeds planted and spring crops tended, houses and boats repaired. He and his father put away Aara’s belongings—they couldn’t bring themselves to burn her clothes, a customary practice for the families of those sent to Purgatory—and accepted the sympathy of those kind enough to offer it, but it took time for them to get used to a house which now seemed empty; the absence of laughter and the vacant seat at the dinner table haunted them whenever they came home.

  Sanjay didn’t feel very much like attending the Juli service at the Shrine, but Dayall insisted; if he didn’t make an appearance, the more inquisitive Disciples might wonder whether Aara’s son shared her blasphemous beliefs. Dayall was an observant Galian if not a particularly devout one, and the last thing they wanted to do was draw the attention of the Guardians. So Frione morning they joined the Disciples in the dome-roofed temple in the middle of town. Once they’d bowed in homage to the scared genesis plant that grew beside the Shrine, they went in to sit together on floor mats in the back of the room, doing their best to ignore the curious glances of those around them. Yet as R’beca stood before the altar, where the box-like frame of the Transformer stood with its inert block of Galmatter in the center, and droned on about how the souls of the Chosen Children were gathered by Gal from the vile netherworld of Erf and carried “twenty-two lights and a half through the darkness” to Eos, Sanjay found himself studying the Teacher resting within his crèche behind the altar.

  Even as a child, Sanjay had often wondered why the Teacher didn’t resemble the Children or their descendents. Taller than an adult islander, his legs had knees that were curiously forward-jointed and hinds lacking the thin membranes that ran between the toes. His arms, folded across his chest, were shorter, while the fingers of his fores were long and didn’t have webbing. His neck was short as well, supporting a hairless head whose face was curiously featureless: eyes perpetually open and staring, a lipless mouth, a straight nose that lacked nostrils. And although the Teacher wore an ornate, brocaded robe dyed purple with roseberry, every youngster who’d ever sneaked up to the crèche after services to peek beneath the hem knew that the Teacher lacked genitalia; there was only a smooth place between his legs.

  These discrepancies were explained by the Word: the Teacher had been fashioned by Gal to resemble the demons who ruled Erf, and the Creator had made him this way to remind the Children of the place from which they’d come. This was why the Teacher was made of Galmatter instead of flesh and blood. According to history everyone diligently learned and recited in school, the Teacher and the Disciples had fled the mainland for Providence just before the Great Storm, leaving behind the unfaithful who’d ignored Gal’s warning that their land would soon be consumed by wind and water.

  The Teacher no longer moved or spoke, nor had he ever done so in recent memory. Yet his body didn’t decay, so he was preserved in the Shrine; along with the Transformer and the Galmatter block, they were holy relics, reminders of the Stormyarn. In her sermons, R’beca often prophesized the coming of the day when the Teacher would awaken and bring forth new revelations of the Word of Gal, but Sanjay secretly doubted this would ever occur. If it did, he hoped to be there when it happened; he’d like to see how someone could walk on all fours with limbs and extremities as misshapen as these.

  Kaile kept a discrete distance from Sanjay after Aara left. He missed her, but understood why; her parents, Aiko and Jak, were strict Disciples who’d become reluctant to have their daughter associating with a heretic’s son. And while she wasn’t as rigid in her beliefs as her parents, nonetheless Kaile was a Galian who did her best to adhere to the Word. So he saw her only on occasion, sometimes in town but more often in the morning on the waterfront. While Sanjay was a boatbuilder—indeed, his family name, which his father had taken after he bonded with his mother, was an old Inglis word for those who built water craft—Kaile was a diver, trained from childhood to descend deep beneath the channel to harvest scavengers from the sea floor. When they spotted each other during those days, they’d exchange a brief smile and a wave, a sign that she still cared for him and would return once her parents let her.

  Dayall, on the other hand, retreated into himself. As Juli lapsed into Aug and then Sept, Sanjay watched as his father became increasingly morose. He seldom spoke to anyone, let alone his son, instead adopting a dull daily pattern of getting up, having breakfast, opening his woodworking shop and puttering around in it all day until it was time to close up and go home, where he’d eat and then go to bed. Although he was still bonded to Aara, it was understood that this no longer mattered; other women could come to him as prospective suitors, and he could bond with them and take their name if he so desired. But Dayall was approaching middle age, and it was unlikely any woman in Childstown would want to take as her mate someone who’d once had a heretic as a wife. So Sanjay could only watch as his father came to terms with his loss; he was helpless to do anything about it.

  More than once, Sanjay found himself cursing his mother for not having the foresight to keep what she’d seen during night watch to herself. He began to suspect that her eyes may have been playing tricks on her. It wasn’t uncommon to see streaks of light in the night. Old Inglis teachings, passed down through generations, called them meteorites, small rocks which occasionally fell from the sky. Perhaps Aara had seen something like that and had mistaken it for a moving star. She’d sworn otherwise when she’d been called before the Council of Deacons, though, and Aara was an intelligent woman who wasn’t likely to mistake a meteorite for anything else. Nonetheless, Sanjay wondered whether, just this once, his mother may have been a fool … or even the heretic the deacons had proclaimed her to be.

  When Monthree came around in Sept, the last week of summer, it was his turn again to take the night watch. Garth Coyne, Sanjay’s uncle and the mayor of Childstown, dropped by the boat shop that afternoon to let him know that he could skip his turn if he wished. Garth would assign someone else instead, and Sanjay could wait three weeks to take the Monthree watch in Dec.

  Garth meant well, of course. Part of the purpose of the night watch was to look out for anyone who might try to cross the channel from Cape Exile, whether it be a sinner attempting to abduct an islander for their own vile purposes—which was the Disciples’ explanation for the occasional disappearance of someone from a village—or an exile attempting to return. Garth was the mayor, but he was also Dayall’s brother, so he was more sympathetic than most, and also aware of the bitter irony of having Sanjay stand watch to prevent his own mother from coming home. Yet Sanjay turned him down. He didn’t want anyone to think that he was reluctant to assume the task that led to Aara’s downfall.

  That night, he stood in the wooden watchtower, anxiously watching the sky in hopes that he’d spot the same mysterious star Aara had seen. Yet thick clouds had moved in shortly after Calliope went down, so all he could see was the diffuse glow that its distant companions, Aether and Bacchae, made through the overcast. Even Gal was nowhere to be seen. The only light he saw was the luminescent glow of nightjewels floating on the bay. Sanjay ended his turn in the tower with nothing more interesting to report than an ocean monarch breaching the surface a short distance out beyond the reefs; with summer coming to a close and the waters becoming colder, the predators were more often to be seen off the Providence shores.

  He’d become accustomed to the fact that he’d never see his mother again when Kaile came to him on Thursthree morning. He was sitting beside a fishing canoe, patching a tear in its mainsail, when she walked across the beach on all four and stopped beside him.

  “Lo, Sanjay,” she said. “How
are you?”

  Sanjay looked up at her, surprised by the casualness of her greeting. She hadn’t spoken to him all season. Many of his friends had distanced themselves from him, but he’d missed her more than anyone else. Summer was a time for laying down with one’s lover, and his bed had been cold and lonely without her. Sanjay had lately begun to wonder if he’d lost her for good, so her abrupt return caught him unprepared.

  “Good, thanks. Just working on this boat.” He tried to pretend that her appearance meant little to him, but his fores slipped as he attempted to slide a threaded fishbone needle through the sail patch. He nicked his right forefinger instead.

  “Oh … watch yourself!” Kaile exclaimed as he hissed in pain. “Here … let me.”

  Before Sanjay could object, she bent closer, took his fore in her own, and gently slipped his finger into her mouth. Her lips formed a sly smile around his finger, and her eyes gleamed mischievously as her tongue, warm and moist, played with his fingertip. Sanjay felt himself becoming aroused. He shifted his hinds nervously, hoping she wouldn’t notice, but if she did, she gave no sign.

  “There,” she said, withdrawing his finger from her mouth. “All better?” He nodded and she smiled. “So … I was just wondering if you’d like to go diving with me today?”

  “Diving?” He’d done it before, but he wasn’t trained the way she was. “Why?”

  “Just because.” A slight shrug. “We haven’t seen much of each other lately, and I thought … well, it might be a way of getting back together again.” Another smile. “Besides, my crew is running a little behind, and we could use a little extra help.”

  Sanjay looked across the keel of the upended canoe. Codi was squatting nearby, working with Johan to finish a new boat. He didn’t have to ask whether they’d overheard the conversation; Codi and Johan traded an amused look, and then his mentor nodded. “Sure, go ahead. We can take care of things today.”

  Sanjay hesitated, but only for a moment. “Of course. I’d love to.” Leaving the patch unfinished, he removed his tool kit from his vest and gave it to Johan for safekeeping. “After you,” he said, and she smiled again and turned away, leading him on all fours down the beach toward the nearby docks.

  He was just beginning to admire the way Kaile’s body moved beneath the diaphanous shawl she wore over her halter and thong when she paused to let him catch up. At first he thought she was merely expressing fondness when she raised herself erect on her hinds and slid her fore through the crook of his elbow, but when he stood up so she could pull him closer as if to give him a kiss, she murmured something only he could hear.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” she whispered.

  “What about?” Sanjay glanced around to see if anyone else was nearby. They weren’t alone; others were walking past. The waterfront was busy as it always was this hour of the morning.

  “Not here,” she said softly. “Wait until we’re out on the water, where no one can hear us.” She paused, then added even more quietly, “It’s about what Aara saw … I’ve seen it, too.”

  III

  The fishing fleet bobbed on the warm blue waters of the bay, six canoes with sails furled and anchors lowered. This late in the season, it was necessary for them to venture further away from shore in order for the divers to catch anything of significance; it would take the nine weeks of autumn, winter, spring for the breadfish and scavengers born the previous yar to grow large enough to be caught. So the boats had to spread out in order for their crews to bring home a decent catch; this made for conditions suitable for a conversation that wouldn’t be easily overheard.

  Nevertheless, Sanjay had a hard time containing himself from asking Kaile what she meant. Two others were on her boat: Sayra Bailee, a young girl who’d become a diver only three yarn ago, and Ramos Circe, the boat captain. Neither Sanjay or Kaile were very much concerned about Sayra—she wasn’t terribly bright and tended to keep to herself anyway—but Ramos was another matter entirely. He was the Guardian appointed to the fleet to observe the fishermen and help them maintain spiritual purity while they worked, and the fact that he was also Beacon R’beca’s son only made him more dangerous. They would have to be careful of him.

  So he and Kaile had made small talk with Sayra as they paddled out into the bay, saying nothing that really mattered while ignoring Ramos. They were about a half-kilm from the reefs which separated the outer reaches of the bay from the Western Channel when Ramos called for them to take down the sails and drop anchor. By then their craft was a hundred rods from the next nearest boat, all the better for the privacy they sought.

  Sanjay watched as Kaile stood erect, dropped her shawl and, as an afterthought, discarded her halter as well. She wore nothing now except her thong, which covered very little of herself. He’d never forgotten how beautiful she was; with the bright red sun on her light brown skin, she was as radiant as Gal herself. Taking off his vest and kilt, he was glad that he’d decided to wear a thong himself that day; otherwise his reaction would have been obvious to all. Sayra also chose to dive almost entirely nude, but at sixteen sixyarn, she hadn’t yet blossomed into the full-breasted womanhood Kaile had achieved at twenty-two.

  In keeping with his position as a Guardian, Ramos pretended not to notice either of the women. He waited while everyone buckled on diving belts and attached knife sheaths and woven collection bags. “All right, over you go,” he said once they were ready. “Good hunting. May Gal keep you safe.”

  “Thank you.” Raising her fores level with her shoulders, Kaile dove headfirst into the water, disappearing with barely a splash. Sayra followed her a moment later, leaping from the other side of the canoe. Sanjay took a few more breaths to fill his lungs, then he joined them, although not nearly as gracefully.

  The instant he was submerged, he instinctively squinted, forcing shut the watertight nictitating membranes of his eyes that Gal in her wisdom had provided her children. At the same time, the fingers of his fores and the toes of his hinds spread apart, opening the webs between his digits which allowed his people to be fast and effortless swimmers. Although he wasn’t the practiced diver Kaile and Sayra were, nonetheless he could stay underwater for three or four mins at a time, allowing him to descend the twenty rods it took to reach the bottom. Although the sunlight faded, he could still see Kaile clearly, swimming toward the seafern jungle that lay across the bay floor.

  It was here that they searched for scavengers, the spidery crustaceans which prowled among the ferns, feeding on the remains of nightjewels, breadfish, and other pelagic species who’d died and drifted to the bottom of the sea. Because they tended to blend into their environment, catching them was easier than finding them. Kaile was much better at this than he was; she’d collected two while he was still searching for one, and shook her head when he picked up a half-grown crustacean and showed it to her: too small, let it go.

  His lungs were beginning to hurt by then, so he followed her back up to the boat and watched as she tossed her bag over the side and took another one from Ramos. The scavengers died when exposed to the air, of course, but it didn’t render the tender flesh beneath their carapaces inedible. Kaile and Sanjay took a min or two to replenish their lungs, then they went down again. They ignored the fat breadfish which occasionally swam past, leaving them for the long-line anglers in other boats, and stayed clear of the reefs, which tended to be patrolled by seaknives who’d attack any humans who dared enter their domain.

  Over the next couple of hours, they made seven descents, stopping for a few minutes after every second or third dive to float on their backs and rest a little. Sanjay noticed that, while Sayra stayed fairly close to the boat, Kaile was gradually leading him further away. Apparently Ramos expected her to do this, because he didn’t seem to mind that they’d have to swim quite a few rods to reach the boat again. By late morning he’d decided to take a little nap, lying back against the stern with an arm across his eyes.

  On their last dive, Ramos caught a full-grown scavenger
, but when he held it up for Kaile to see, she surprised him by shaking her head. Instead, she pointed to the surface. Looking up, he saw that the keel of the boat was nowhere to be seen. Understanding what she meant, he dropped the scavenger, then rose with her to the top.

  Once they were, she paddled over to him and, to his delighted surprise, draped her fores across his shoulders and pulled him close. “Kiss me,” she whispered, and he was only too happy to oblige. “Good,” she said once they’d parted. “Now hold me close while we talk. This way, everyone will think we’re just making love and leave us alone.”

  By then, he’d almost forgotten the reason why she’d asked him to go diving with him. “Can’t we do both?” he asked, playfully stroking her breasts.

  “Maybe later.” A wry smile that quickly vanished as she pushed his fores away. “For now, just listen. I was standing watch last night…”

  In furtive tones quietly spoken while she allowed him to caress her, Kaile told Sanjay about her turn in the watchtower the night before. The night was clear, without the clouds which had ruined his own attempt to observe the sky, but she hadn’t been making any particular effort to see anything unusual. All the same, it was in the darkest hour of the night, when the sisters were setting to the east and before Calliope had risen to the west, her eye was drawn to a peculiar movement in the zenith.

  “A small star, quickly moving from east to west.” As she said this, Kaile glanced up at the sky. “It went straight toward Gal, quickly at first, and then…”

  She hesitated, looking down at Sanjay again. “Then what?” he asked.

  “It slowed down and … Sanjay, it merged with Gal.” Her mouth trembled as she said this, her eyes wide. “It was if the two became one. For just a few secs they became brighter, then Gal went back to normal.”

  Losing interest in her body, he let his fores fall to his sides, moving back and forth to keep himself afloat. “How could…?”