He grinned at me, the clouds momentarily lifting from his expression. “You’re on.”
We jogged down the path to town and up the street to Paloma’s. Joseph reached the doorway at least ten steps ahead of me.
Kayleen and Paloma lived in a four-house; four families each had a single wall of private rooms, and shared a central garden and common space. Joseph reached around the dried herb wreath that nearly covered the wooden door and knocked.
Kayleen opened the door. The rich scents of mint and wild mountain-fern and redberry and basil spilled out the open door from Paloma’s spare room, where she dried herbs and leaves for tea and salves, like the one Joseph had brought me for my leg.
“Oh, I’m glad you’re here.” The circles under Kayleen’s eyes were nearly as deep as Alicia’s had been the night before, and her voice was scratchy. But she smiled at us. “Come on in. Alicia dragged Paloma to lodge a complaint with Town Council. Alicia was really shaky, but she meant it. You should’ve seen the look in her eyes. Paloma made me stay here, just go to work. Have you seen Bryan this morning?”
I laughed. “Good morning. And no, I haven’t seen Bryan. But Ruth was at the house when I woke up, talking to Nava. She spent the night at our house. They seem like old friends.”
Kayleen’s eyes rounded. She leaned in, as if there was someone to overhear us. “Did you hear them? Do you know what they talked about?”
“No, I was asleep. But they were laughing this morning.”
Kayleen frowned. “I don’t trust them. Do you want some juice?”
“Can’t. I have to get to the mill, so I better start now. Will you come tell me if anything happens?”
Kayleen nodded. “Sure. I’ll just wander over—no one will care.” Her smile took the sarcastic sting out of her words. “Seriously, I will if I can. I’m with Gianna today, so maybe I can get away.”
We waved good-bye, and Joseph and I headed off to our respective duties. As I crossed the bridge, I glanced at the roamers’ wagons. They seemed darker and less cheerful than just two days before.
At the mill, I sealed bags of flour and marked them with the date, then stacked them to distribute before the roamers left. I watched out the window every time I passed it, imagining that every person crossing the bridge was coming to tell me the Town Council wanted me.
There seemed to be an infinite number of bags of flour.
The shift ended with no word. I scrubbed the flour from my hands and face and bolted back across the bridge, running almost as fast as I could, displaying my speed to anyone who cared to watch, reminding them I was altered. I didn’t care.
Liam sat on the grass just past the end of the bridge. Maybe he knew what was going on. He stood as he heard my pelting footsteps; surely he was waiting just for me. As I neared him, I slowed to a fast walk and he fell in step beside me, talking quickly. “They’ve been arguing all day. I wasn’t there, but Akashi told me what happened. Ruth tried to keep the Town Council out of it. She started saying it was nothing, not important, and when that didn’t work, she claimed it was her business and not Artistos’s.” He grimaced. “I guess Nava wanted to agree, had two Councilors on her side, and all she needed was one more for a majority.” He glanced sideways at me and grinned, his eyes flashing excitement. A little storyteller’s flourish. His voice rose. “Then Akashi stepped in and said ‘roamer business and town business are the same.’ He said the only reason we have separate justice systems is because we’re physically separate and right now we aren’t, and becoming two completely separate cultures would undo us. The vote switched back and Nava only had Ruth on her side.”
I laughed, picturing Nava’s face. She could almost always keep her voice controlled, but her skin betrayed her emotions like a spoiled child, flashing the reds of her anger and stress. She’d done it just this morning in the kitchen. “What happens next?”
“They’re going to have the whole investigation out in the open, in the amphitheater. Tonight. Ruth’s fit to be tied, but she said that way we’d all know how dangerous Alicia is.”
I clenched my fists. “Alicia’s not dangerous.”
Liam shrugged, as if the notion weren’t even worth considering. “Everyone who wants to can come. Since I wasn’t working today, I got there as soon as I knew and saved us seats near the front. I left to find you as soon as the others came. Paloma will join us. Akashi is on the Council, since it affects the roamer bands as well.”
“Is Ruth?”
Liam sounded disgusted. “Yes.”
We jogged along the edge of the park. I spotted Gianna and Sophia walking together, talking, and farther away, two couples with kids in tow heading for the amphitheater. The sun’s rays slanted through the park, elongating the twintree shadows. Even though it was still early, it would be dark within the hour.
I sat between Paloma and Liam. Past Paloma, Kayleen and then Bryan and Joseph sat in a row. Alicia sat on the far end, a little apart from Joseph. She glanced over as we came in, looking like a caged bird. But her eyes glowed with intent, as if perhaps she were a thin and hungry bird of prey. Gianna slid onto the bench next to Alicia, acknowledging us with a slight smile before turning to watch the dais.
Meetings were rare, and usually only the affected people went, and maybe their families.
People streamed into the amphitheater, grouping and knotting into bands and family groups. More than half the adults in Artistos were here, and a few of the children. May and Klia and other teenagers sat together in small crowds, none close to us. I spotted Sky four rows above us, sitting with two of her band mates. She smiled briefly, and gave me a little nod, then turned back to her friends.
This was how Artistos resolved community issues; witnessed consent among the Town Council. Anyone who demanded a voice could speak.
I never had.
Nava would lead. Councilors would ask questions, then they’d talk among themselves before deciding. It could take hours.
Noise of many conversations swirled about. Above us, the damaged or old men and women of the culture guild bustled about, setting cold water and leftovers from yesterday’s feast on tables near the top.
On the stage, Town Council sat at two long banquet tables. Nava and Tom were in the middle, Akashi and Ruth on the two ends. In between Nava and Akashi, Lyssa and Wei-Wei sat together. I focused on the two of them. Lyssa was tall and blond, with light blue eyes and small hands that fluttered around her face. Therese had complained repeatedly that Lyssa always chose for the accused, no matter what the proof. Lyssa saw herself as the savior of the downtrodden. She would see Alicia that way, especially once she noticed the bruises.
Wei-Wei, however, would almost certainly vote against Alicia. A short dark-haired and brown-skinned woman with almond eyes, Wei-Wei tended to be quiet and thoughtful, but strict. I knew of at least two incidences where she’d recommended weeks of hard work for teenagers caught bending the rules, even mildly. She was notoriously hard on the few adults who tended to drunkenness. And worse, distrust flecked Wei-Wei’s dark eyes every time she passed us in town.
I was pretty sure Tom was for Alicia, and Nava against, but remembered Paloma’s suggestion that I was selling Nava short.
That left Hunter, who sat between Tom and Ruth. Hunter’s gray hair hung wispy and thin along the sides of his wrinkled face. Age and injury had twisted his fingers into claws, but he sat tall. He had led Artistos’s defense in the war, becoming the town hero. I had no idea how he would approach this problem, and had to content myself with his reputation for fairness.
Next to Akashi, one empty chair sat to the side of the table.
Nava cleared her throat into the microphone. “Please quiet down. We will begin in one minute.”
I looked behind me once again. Jenna sat in the top row, above the crowd. Shadow already filled most of the amphitheater, but Jenna sat high, in a beam of sunshine. She wore a cloak of paw-cat fur edged with yellow-snake skin around her shoulders, even though it was not cold. She gazed placidly down at the Council.
Ever since the earthquake, she seemed to be watching town business more closely. I shook Liam’s shoulder, pointing. “That’s Jenna.”
“I know.” He turned, his eyes following my finger, and smiled. “She’s amazing.”
He sounded confident rather than curious. He was a roamer, only in town ten days or so a year. Jenna never attended Story Night or Trading Day. “Have you heard stories about her?”
“She comes and talks to me and Akashi a few times every year.”
Jenna visited the roamers? Talked to Akashi and Liam? When and why? What did she say? I wanted to ask, but Nava cleared her throat into the microphone again, and I bit back my questions and turned toward the dais. The lights came on, illuminating the Town Council’s features, shining on us.
“Good evening.” Nava smiled softly. “I presume the turnout means that news has flown through our community along all of the usual informal channels.” She left a beat of silence before continuing. “Still, I’m glad to see everyone. It will help dispel any incorrect rumors.” The crowd laughed softly, a bit nervously.
“We are meeting to address a formal complaint, and a request, both filed by Alicia Gupta of the East Band.” She looked directly at me, then scanned the rest of the crowd, her gaze quieting any lingering conversations. She frowned as she spotted Jenna, but said nothing. She gestured to Gianna, who stood and took Alicia’s hand, pulling her up onto the dais. Alicia glanced over her shoulder at us, fear and resolve burning in her violet eyes, then turned and walked up the steps.
Nava said, “Alicia has lodged a complaint against Ruth. Ruth sits here as a valued member of our Council and a leader in her own right, and she will have her say, but will not vote.”
At least that was something. I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable.
Alicia reached the top of the steps and turned, the purple and black bruises on her face sharp against her white skin. The crowd murmured. Alicia sat in the extra chair, on the end near Akashi, watching them, her face impassive. I could hardly imagine what it must be like to sit there with everyone watching her. She was still and calm and moved only to breathe and turn her face toward Nava.
Ruth leaned forward to speak, but Nava put a hand up. “Let us hear from the girl first.” She turned toward Alicia. “Alicia, please state your complaint.”
The crowd quieted as if, as one, they leaned toward Alicia to listen to her. Alicia spoke slowly, her voice carrying well. “As you heard on Story Night, there was a death in the East Band, a young man named Varay. He was my friend, one of my few friends in the band.” She licked her lips and glanced briefly at Ruth.
Ruth watched us, not Alicia. The naked animosity in her gaze made me want to look away. I held her eyes for a long moment before turning to watch Alicia continue with her story. “Varay fell to his death, and I was with him. It was…it was the most awful experience of my life, to watch him fall, knowing I was above him, and could do nothing.” Her voice trembled, softened, and it seemed like everyone there leaned forward slightly, quietly. “To see him dead, to carry back his broken body, wishing with every step that he was still alive.
“A few days later, I began to hear something disturbing from my few other friends in the band. They told me that Ruth was telling people I killed Varay. At first, I believed this must be a rumor, but when I heard it over and over, it began to feel, to sound, like a truth.” Her hands clasped the edge of the chair, her knuckles white. “People in the band began treating me worse than before, turning my daily life from something tolerable to something”—she paused, as if struggling for the right words—“hard and painful. I have been accused, but never openly. I have no idea how to clear my name, because only Varay and I were there….” A tear slid down her cheek and she stopped for a second, clearly struggling for control. “Only he and I know that his death was an accident, and he cannot speak about it. Since I cannot clear my name, I wish to be removed from the East Band.”
Liam’s hand stole into mine, warm and comforting, strong.
Nava asked, “How did you get the bruises?”
“Bella and Michael locked me in the wagon. Some of these came from them.” Her hands rose to her bruised face. “Others I gave myself, trying to get out.” Her hands returned to her knees.
The crowd’s murmur rose and fell again. We had a jail, but it had lain unused since I was about ten. We did not lock each other up.
Nava asked, “Is there more you want to say?”
Alicia looked quietly in front of her. “Not now.”
Ruth stood, her posture demanding attention. Nava nodded at her.
“First, I think we need to be clear about Alicia’s status. She was given into my care as a prisoner of war, not as a family member, or a band member. As such, we have treated her extraordinarily well. A prisoner of war is not entitled to a hearing, but only reasonably good treatment.” She sat down again. “There is no reason for me to respond to her accusations. This Council should reject her claims.”
Tom leaned forward. “Alicia came by our house briefly last night. After her visit, I looked up the meeting record from the day we took the six children left behind into our care. Ruth is correct. The term in the records is ‘prisoner of war.’” He stopped a moment, glanced at Nava, and took a drink of water. “But we are a body of community law. Our charter and original ideals demand flexibility in response to the actual, current situation. That’s how a successful colony responds. We are not, after all, treating any of the other five children like prisoners.” He stopped and glanced directly at Ruth. “In fact, we rely on them to help us in a number of tasks.”
I thanked him silently for his words, and turned to look at the crowd, watching their varied reactions. Some nodded, some leaned into neighbors and whispered, others sat, still, their faces unreadable. A few looked hostile, but it was hard to tell toward whom. My eyes scraped past Garmin’s, and he scowled hostilely at us.
I turned back to Tom, to find his eyes briefly on me, then on Paloma. He smiled faintly, then began again, his voice strong. “It is true that our ancestors fled inhabited space because they had no desire to be changed in any way, because the core and center of our beliefs is that we are best off as original humans. But these six”—he glanced down at us, his tense expression relaxing some—“did not choose to be altered. To reject their humanity for it is similar to rejecting a child for having a birth defect. But we don’t do that. We take the injured and broken—the different—and give them work.”
I smiled, hoping Tom could see my approval.
Wei-Wei spoke, her voice hard and clipped. “Our people came here to find a place where all humans could be on equal ground, where money or privilege or better science did not separate us. Where we could be free of the power of those who chose long lives and health over their very humanity.” She glanced at me, at us, and I saw fear behind the anger in her words. “The very existence of these children here threatens our peace, and to grant them full rights threatens it even more.”
A few people clapped, and I wanted to turn and see who, but Nava held her hand up to forestall the crowd’s reaction, and looked at the tall blond woman who sat beside her. “Lyssa, what do you think?”
“Both points have merit. We do not need to make a decision about how to treat these six as adults for”—her brow furrowed—“almost a year. Today, we only need to decide if Alicia has the right to lodge a complaint against Ruth. I say that she does. Not because of who she is, or isn’t.” She spread her hands wide in front of her, taking in the crowd with them. “Because we are fair and we should not let anyone be so bruised and persecuted without being able to speak up for themselves.”
Nava nodded. “Akashi?”
Akashi looked over at us, smiling, his eyes catching Liam’s. “My son is due his full measure of rights. So are his peers.”
“Hunter?”
I watched him closely. His damaged hands rested on the table and he spoke slowly, deliberately. His voice was soft with age, but still carried the authority of a lead
er. “Lyssa is fundamentally correct. Ruth raises an issue that does not need to be answered now, to veil a question that does. Allow Alicia to make her complaint, and hear Ruth out. We should keep our deliberation focused on Alicia’s complaint.” He stopped and sipped water. “Separately, we must finish planning for the time when the altered will be adults. That question is something to debate this winter, to explore slowly, to resolve in spring when the bands return. There are issues of security I want to discuss.”
Up on the dais, Nava’s face and neck flushed red.
So everyone, except Ruth and Nava, was willing to at least address Alicia’s challenges. But only Tom and Akashi, so far, supported full rights. Next to me, Paloma shifted and licked her lips. Liam withdrew his hand and leaned forward, chewing his bottom lip. I felt the absence of his touch, and wanted to reach for him, but sat back instead, watching.
Ruth crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned back in her chair, sharing a glance with Nava. “Very well,” she said gruffly, “I withdraw my objection to discussing Alicia’s complaint. But it is spurious. She is, in fact, sullen and difficult, and Bella and Michael and I have gone out of our way to treat her fairly while still treating her as Hunter requested when we took her in: as potentially dangerous. Nothing said here has changed that. I would not turn my back on this girl.
“As to whether or not she killed my nephew? He was a brilliant climber, and would not have simply fallen to his death. As I said, she is sullen and sometimes angry. Perhaps he said something she resented, and she pushed him. It would be easy for any of them, one on one, to kill any of us.”
Paloma drew her breath in sharply, Liam stiffened next to me, and even though I couldn’t see him, I felt Bryan’s anger rise. Alicia sat still, bone still, as if Ruth’s words had slapped all sound from her.
I couldn’t sit still. I stood, looking at Nava, drawing her eyes. “Chelo?” she said. “What do you want?”
Alicia’s exoneration. To be seen as human. “May I address the Council?”
The Silver Ship and the Sea Page 12
