The Silver Ship and the Sea

by Brenda Cooper

He nodded, slowly, painfully. “Where?” he asked again.

  “Far away.” Deep sadness filled me. “Far enough that I may never see you again.”

  He said, “I didn’t want this to happen. I’m sorry, I let you down.”

  I couldn’t go to him, couldn’t drop my guard, so I said, “You will always be my family.”

  “Will you be okay?” Bryan asked.

  I glanced at Tom, who smiled at me, briefly, bitterly, encouragingly. “I think so. Go.”

  Bryan’s return look was confused, but he mumbled, “Thank you, thank you for getting me out.” He turned toward Stripes, standing resolutely, waiting to be helped onto the big beast. He hated weakness, and I knew he hated that moment. His head came almost to Stripes’s tall back, taller by a foot than Tom or Eric, and wider by far than either of them. Tom made a mounting block of his hands, and Eric stood close. Bryan stepped into Tom’s hands with his good foot and reached for the saddle with his damaged hand, barely getting a good grip. Eric pushed up on Bryan’s casted leg, awkwardly, hands around Bryan’s big thighs, and Tom squatted, putting Bryan’s good knee on his shoulder, standing and thrusting. Bryan fell half across the saddle, his face twisted with pain, his eyes glazed. He didn’t cry out. He slowly swung his leg over the tall saddle, and sat up.

  Stripes turned to look at me quizzically. I whispered to her, “Carry him carefully.”

  I had to get back. “Tom, can you stay here with Bryan?”

  Tom nodded. “Be careful,” he said.

  Helping us would cost him. My voice choked up as I said, “Thank you.”

  Another flash of lightning, farther away, near the High Road, followed by a long roll of thunder. No more than an hour remained until dark. This had to finish. “Joseph. I’m getting Alicia away. Bring the skimmer as soon as I say; not before. The corn—”

  “I heard you.” His voice flattened, carried shock. “You aren’t coming.”

  “Not now.”

  “You have to.” Joseph sounded lost.

  Movement caught my eye. Stile, staring up at the tree branch. He raised his arm, aiming the stunner at Alicia.

  I screamed and raised my hand, raised my own weapon.

  The soft click-thwack of a stunner sounded louder than it was.

  Stile crumpled.

  I whirled.

  Tom.

  Joseph screamed in my ear. “Chelo! Are you okay?”

  Tom stood with his stunner out. He waved it at me. “Go. He’ll be all right.”

  I jerked my hand down, suddenly dizzy. “No,” I answered Joseph. “No. I’m not okay. Tom stunned Stile.”

  Joseph-in-my-ear fell silent. I darted back to the top of the stairs. Nava and Hunter and Wei-Wei huddled together on the dais, talking so softly I couldn’t hear them. Ruth stood on the edge, eyeing Alicia.

  Leaves rustled. “Chelo,” Alicia hissed. “Come here. Is Bryan safe?”

  I sidled over, watching below, standing under the tree. “Go,” I said, “go now. Tom is watching out for you. Lightning is tethered at the foot of the tree. Bryan is waiting. Ride slowly, ride like you’re in control. Fool them. I’ll…I’ll do my best to give you enough of a start.”

  I glanced directly up at her. She looked…intent. Her eyes shone. Her hands rested on the tree, cupping limbs. She jackknifed down through the fork she had been watching the amphitheater through, landing on her feet, her knees bent, above the lip of the amphitheater, almost pitching forward and over. Her arms windmilled and she found her balance, standing just above me now. What if she’d fallen? Would she have killed us both?

  Her hair was in disarray. She laughed, lightly, then she pulled out the ball from a knot in her shirt. “Your turn.” She thrust it forward, holding it with both hands, telegraphing her intent.

  Then she let go.

  I caught it, an automated motion. The ball was warm from her hands.

  I held a weapon in each hand.

  “It’s the only way you can hold them for us,” she said.

  Why hadn’t she just kept it, backed down the tree, used it as a shield for her and Bryan? Or was she right? I cursed.

  Movement. A thin figure running up the steps. Ruth.

  I lifted the ball. “Stop!” All eyes turned toward me, toward the object I held in my upraised hand.

  Ruth stopped, glaring at me. “I knew you were no better.”

  “I am better,” I said. “I want peace.”

  Ruth laughed. She knelt down in front of me, halfway up the steps, and leveled her stunner at Alicia.

  Alicia only needed to step back and run, but she leaned forward, her own microwave gun in her right hand, firing it at Ruth.

  The shot was a stream of light, hitting Ruth in the torso.

  Pain bloomed on Ruth’s face. She yelped and fired the stunner, a wild shot. She had danced out of Alicia’s beam, but her free hand clutched her stomach and she glared at Alicia and me. Her arm came up again, pointing toward Alicia, and my hand raised of its own accord, pointing my own gun at her.

  Akashi’s voice behind me, directed at Alicia. He, too, held up a weapon, so that Ruth’s stunner and Akashi’s microwave gun pointed at Alicia and my microwave gun pointed at Ruth.

  “Shoot Ruth,” Joseph whispered in my ear.

  I kept my eyes on Ruth, speaking slowly. “Alicia. I’ll shoot you myself if you don’t save Bryan.”

  Silence. The moment stretched, everyone still, threatening or watching. My hand trembled. I braced it with my other hand.

  Alicia hissed. I glanced up at her. Her face was a mask of anger and fear, crazy, disconnected.

  I screamed at her. “Alicia! Get Bryan to safety!”

  She turned and was gone, a flash of foot the last I saw of her.

  Every eye in the amphitheater turned toward me.

  “Akashi, Liam, see them safely off. Bryan’s not strong enough to ride by himself.” I risked a glance at them, saw Akashi nod, Liam’s face full of concern and fear. “Akashi—ride behind Bryan. Help him. Bring the hebras back. Liam—run beside them.” I watched Ruth glare at me.

  Akashi’s voice was laced with concern. “That leaves you alone.”

  I nodded, turning back to face Ruth. “I know. But I need to know Bryan and Liam are safe.” I didn’t have to say he could control Alicia, talk to her, keep her from doing anything stupid. “Go, now,” I said, sure that Joseph would know the command was meant for him. He had surely listened to the whole conversation.

  I heard Akashi and Liam leave.

  I gestured at Ruth with the hand that held the microwave gun. “Move away, back down.” I spoke louder, directing my gaze at the whole assembled Council. “Don’t doubt that I will use this to be sure Bryan escapes safely.”

  Ruth spit out, “You will answer for letting Alicia go.”

  I responded immediately. “It was neither my right, nor yours, to hold her. She would not have chosen this path if she had a home here, like I do. If she had been loved as a human being, as a girl.”

  She stayed where she stood, too close to me. “We will hunt her down. Whatever it takes.”

  I didn’t think so, but now wasn’t the moment to say so. “Bryan’s safety matters.”

  Gianna spoke up. “Are you…are they…going back to the plains?”

  She couldn’t know I knew the plains may be swamped in a day.

  But she knew. Would she tell me? She swallowed, looking like she wanted to say more, but she held her tongue. Maybe she’d talk in private. Could I count on her? “It will be all right. I can guarantee Alicia won’t return to Artistos. That will have to be enough.”

  Hunter snapped at me. “How can you guarantee that?”

  “Trust me.” I gestured again at Ruth. “Go, and I will follow you partway down. Don’t get too close. We have time, and I intend to have that talk I came for.”

  “We will not talk under threat,” Hunter said.

  I raised the hand that held the ball. “I will give this to you when Akashi reports that Bryan is safe.” I s
hrugged, trying to appear calm. “I don’t want it.”

  Ruth started down, her eyes on me, hatred and pain controlling her face. She still held her stomach.

  “You’ll heal,” I said, following her, keeping at least five meters between us. She rejoined the group on the dais, and I sat in a seat on the edge of the aisle, five rows back from the dais, close enough to talk to them. I held the ball where they could see it, could see that I was ready to throw it. If I threw it from here, I would die, too.

  The ball was heavy enough to pull a little on my arm, like holding a glass of water and struggling not to spill it. I hated holding such a thing, hated sitting here.

  I spoke to the whole group of them, arguing for the only hope I had left. “I want to stay…on Jini at least. To stay here in Artistos or with the West Band. To help.” I was mad now, angry at them for ever doubting me, for putting me in this place, making me able to hurt them. My voice rose with my anger. “I’ve always tried to help—I have never hurt any of you!”

  Hunter nodded quietly. “How do we know your intentions are good?”

  I sighed, tired of this argument, my anger falling to disgust. “Maybe you have to trust. Maybe you’ll have to rely on what you know of me. I don’t want to die, or to live outcast like Jenna. This is my home. It is only since Steven and Therese died”—I glanced at Nava, who watched me with a blank face—“only since then that I have been treated badly, by a handful of people who are afraid of what I am, but refuse to see me. Or people who are scared of Jenna, or Alicia. Well, I’m not them.” I stopped, breathing hard. “On the way in, I ran into Gary, and he wished me luck. He complimented me on how I took care of his children when I took my turn in the nursery school.” I could still leave. We could all leave. “We have skills to offer if you treat us respectfully.”

  “Give us Alicia and we will consider it,” Hunter said.

  I shook my head. She was beyond my reach now anyway. “I’m past waiting for you to consider.” The amphitheater fell silent. There was nothing new to say. Even the storm seemed to have passed, to have fled into the mountains for the evening. The sky between the remaining clouds shone the soft blue that heralded dusk.

  About ten minutes into uncomfortable silence, light flashed over the High Road, a streak of fire, a meteor. Fire flared, filling a huge patch of cliffside instantly, almost an explosion. We all jumped. I stood, watching it, forgetting myself and my task for a moment.

  “Chelo!” Gianna screamed my name.

  I turned.

  Ruth had taken aim at me.

  “If you shoot me”—I raised the ball—“this falls. Will it go off, then? Do you want to find out?”

  I tilted my head back toward the light of the forest fire. “That fire? What it represents? The challenge of living here? I’m stronger with you. And you with me, with us. All that’s missing is trust.” I glanced back at the fire again, although I didn’t look for long this time. Even far away, and moving away from us, up the cliffs where it could burn no farther than to the lake eventually, the fire felt menacing and fast. A rock had started a kilometer of woods burning. When we went up there, we’d be able to tell where the impact was. There would be no stick left by the crater. If the meteor was even big enough to leave a recognizable crater. We’d seen it before, heard it in roamers’ tales. Meteors that left only fire behind, and maybe scattered bits of rock if you could find them.

  Sometimes pretty rock. Maybe I’d like roaming.

  When the solar system skipped stones, we knew. I pulled my attention back. I was losing focus. Tired. I had to keep focused. But anger and loss…and loss…I stood.

  I wanted to watch for the skimmer. “You’re no good at talking. I’m going back near the top. But I’ll be watching. Come on up if you want to discuss anything real.” I stared at Ruth. “But keep some distance.”

  I sat at the top step, near the tree, looking toward the plains. The guild halls and town stood between me and a clear view. Neat rows, all repaired from the earthquake.

  Artistos looked orderly.

  I could see almost every direction, and I would certainly hear anyone that tried to sneak up. There was no one in sight now, except a group that stood far away, watching. Chayla and Eric and Julian and who knew who else.

  The skimmer’s lights might be visible from here. Maybe I should climb the tree. But no, that would leave me vulnerable for a few moments. I couldn’t trust Ruth’s honor enough for that. Now I’d never know if Alicia killed Varay or she loved him or both, or how she felt about Joseph. But she’d be in cold sleep, and then somewhere else, with nothing to fight.

  Hopefully.

  The war we were born for was separating us, even now, rending the last bit of family we had in two.

  I wanted Joseph to stay! I forced myself away from that thought.

  There was one more thing I needed to know. “Gianna—can you come closer?”

  She came, easily, unafraid.

  I felt grateful for that.

  When she was close enough the others couldn’t hear, I whispered, “When will the tsunami come?”

  She looked startled, but answered quickly, “After noon. Just.”

  “Thank you for your help,” I said.

  “Joseph helped me. I don’t know how, but he has much better access to data.” She looked at me curiously. “What can you tell me? What can he do now? Did he really turn off the nets, and how did he do it? Does he have a machine?”

  The sky was clear now over the ocean, over the plains, and getting dark. Another meteor streaked through the atmosphere, burning up before it hit the ground. “I’ll tell you the story after it’s over, Gianna. You’ll have to wait until then. It won’t be long now.”

  She nodded. “I can wait.” She swallowed and shifted on her feet. “I hope it’s a glorious story.”

  “Me, too.”

  I’d barely gotten up here in time. The engine hum was audible. It scared me still, like my memory from when I was a baby, with Chiaro. Lights flashed on the far side of town. I couldn’t see the skimmer itself, but I heard it throttle down and land.

  Artistos was eerily silent. “Joseph,” I whispered.

  Joseph spoke in my ear. “Are you still all right?”

  “Do you have Bryan and Alicia?”

  “They’re climbing in. I’m coming to get you. Go out into the park.”

  I shook my head. Realizing he couldn’t hear that, I said, “I can’t. I think I can get you away. I can’t do more. Tell Jenna to leave early.”

  There was a long silence. Gianna was close enough to look at me quizzically. Joseph could just be on another earset for all she knew. All she would ever know, I thought. Finally Joseph said, “Can you come tell me good-bye?”

  I caught myself shaking my head again. “No,” I whispered. “No, I don’t think I can.” I started crying, deep wracking sobs. I set the ball on the ground, in reach, and wiped at my tears. “Come back if you can.”

  “I’ll call you when we get to the ship.”

  The skimmer’s lights rose and circled, dipping my way. For a moment I thought he was coming here after all, and my heart rose against my resolve, but the skimmer disappeared again, toward the spaceport.

  I looked down. They’d heard it, too. Recognition painted their faces. Nava’s mouth hung open. Lyssa looked at the sky, as if she expected something to fly over any moment. Ruth glared at me. Hunter let out a low whistle, and he, too, looked up at me. I was too far away to read his eyes, but he had to know the game had changed, that we held more power, more of our own technology, than he’d thought.

  I picked the ball up, but stayed seated, glancing back and forth between the place the skimmer’s lights had last been and the group huddled on the dais. As soon as my tears slowed, I started down the steps, carrying the ball carefully, holding the microwave gun pointed down as if it were sharp scissors. Gianna followed me, near my back, keeping her own silence. It took a long time to make it down the steps.

  It seemed a great emptines
s had descended on me as the skimmer turned away, as if a meteor had plunged through me, burning me inside out. I was committed now, committed to Artistos, my future hanging on the next few minutes. I stopped a few meters from them, at the foot of the steps, but out of reach of the dais. Hunter watched me carefully.

  I gazed back at him, my face still wet with the tears of Joseph’s leaving, but my voice steady. “Are you done considering? You will not see Alicia again, or Joseph, or Bryan. But the rest of us plan to help you.” I was sure Kayleen and Liam would stay.

  Ruth glared at me, as if she wished I would disappear. Her hand fondled her stunner. Hunter’s face was unreadable. Nava looked conflicted, her gaze swinging from me to Hunter and back again. Her hand crept to her stunner. “Give the ball to Hunter,” she said evenly, in her best command voice.

  Tom called down from above us. I didn’t dare look back as he said, “Let her be, Nava. The others are leaving.”

  “How do you know?” Nava asked.

  He’d heard my conversation with Bryan, but he couldn’t know about New Making. I did not want to reveal it to them yet. I spoke quickly. “They have a skimmer. They can take it to Islandia.”

  If Tom guessed something else, he didn’t say.

  “Our nets, our information?” Hunter demanded.

  “They will come back on in the morning.”

  “But the meteors?” Lyssa asked.

  I felt sorry for her, our only clear support on the dais, but too weak to make a difference. Too scared. I spoke gently. “They will fall anyway, Lyssa. Knowing when will not stop them.”

  “Give Hunter the ball,” Nava repeated, drawing her stunner.

  “I…want to know you are sorry for sundering my family. For Bryan’s beating.” I swallowed. I had nothing to apologize for, not for myself. But Alicia…“I am sorry for Alicia. Sorry I am holding this thing.”

  Silence.

  I heard Tom’s steps as he walked down and ascended to the dais to stand next to Nava. He put an arm over her shoulder, pulling her near to him. She did not resist, but kept her eyes on me. Finally she nodded. “Yes, Chelo, I’m sorry for all of it.” Her voice told me she meant it, but she had not yet said how she would change anything.