Zoe`s Tale вбиос-4

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Zoe`s Tale вбиос-4 Page 14

by John Scalzi


  Hickory and Dickory said nothing to that. If they had been wearing their consciousness, they'd probably be all twitchy and overloaded at that last outburst. But they were just standing there, impassive.

  I counted to five and tried to get myself back under control. "Look," I said, in what I hoped was a more reasonable tone of voice. "Give me a couple of days to think about this, all right? You've dropped a lot on me all at once. Let me work it through in my head."

  They still said nothing.

  "Fine," I said. "I'm heading back." I brushed past Hickory.

  And found myself on the ground.

  I rolled and looked up at Hickory, confused. "What the hell?" I said, and made to stand up.

  Dickory, who had moved behind me, roughly pushed me back into the grass and dirt.

  I scrambled backward from the two of them. "Stop it," I said.

  They drew their combat knives, and came toward me.

  I grunted out a scream and bolted upright, running at full speed toward the top of the hill, toward the Hentosz farm. But Obin can run faster than humans. Dickory flanked me, got in front of me, and drew back its knife. I backpedaled, falling backward as I did. Dickory lunged. I screamed and rolled again and sprinted back down the side of the hill I came up.

  Hickory was waiting for me and moving to intercept me. I tried to fake going left but it was having none of it, and grabbed for me, getting a grip on my left forearm. I hit at it with my right fist. Hickory deflected it easily, and then in a quick reversal slapped me sharply on the temple, releasing me as it did so. I staggered back, stunned. Hickory looped a leg around one of mine and jerked upward, lifting me completely off the ground. I fell backward and landed on my head. A white blast of pain flooded my skull, and all I could do was lie there, dazed.

  There was heavy pressure on my chest. Hickory was kneeling on me, immobilizing me. I clawed desperately at it, but it held its head away from me on its long neck and ignored everything else. I shouted for help as loudly as I could, knowing no one could hear me, and yelling anyway.

  I looked over and saw Dickory, standing to the side. "Please," I said. Dickory said nothing. And could feel nothing. Now I knew why the two of them came to see me without their consciousness.

  I grabbed at Hickory's leg, on my chest, and tried to push it off. It pushed it in harder, offered another disorienting slap with one hand, and with the other raised it and then plunged it toward my head in one terrible and fluid move. I screamed.

  "You are unharmed," Hickory said, at some point. "You may get up."

  I stayed on the ground, not moving, eyes turned toward Hickory's knife, buried in the ground so close to my head that I couldn't actually focus on it. Then I propped myself up on my elbows, turned away from the knife, and threw up.

  Hickory waited until I was done. "We offer no apology for this," it said. "And will accept whatever consequences for it that you may choose. Know only this: You were not physically harmed. You are unlikely even to bruise. We made sure of this. For all of that you were at our mercy in seconds. Others who will come for you will not show you such consideration. They will not hold back. They will not stop. They will have no concern for you. They will not show you mercy. They will seek to kill you. And they will succeed. We knew you would not believe us if we only told you this. We had to show you."

  I rose to my feet, barely able to stay upright, and staggered back from the two of them as best I could. "God damn you," I said. "God damn you both. You stay away from me from now on." I headed back to Croatoan. As soon as my legs could do it, I started running.

  * * *

  "Hey," Gretchen said, coming into the information center and sealing the inside door behind her. "Mr. Bennett said I could find you here."

  "Yeah," I said. "I asked him if I could be his printer monkey a little more today."

  "Couldn't keep away from the music?" Gretchen said, trying to make a little joke.

  I shook my head and showed her what I was looking at.

  "These are classified files, Zoë," she said. "CDF intelligence reports. You're going to get in trouble if anyone ever finds out. And Bennett definitely won't let you back in here."

  "I don't care," I said, and my voice cracked enough that Gretchen looked at me in alarm. "I have to know how bad it is. I have to know who's out there and what they want from us. From me. Look." I took the PDA and pulled a file on General Gau, the leader of the Conclave, the one who ordered the destruction of the colony on the video file. "This general is going to kill us all if he finds us, and we know next to nothing about him. What makes someone do this? Killing innocent people? What happened in his life that gets him to a place where wiping out entire planets seems like a good idea? Don't you think we should know? And we don't. We've got statistics on his military service and that's it." I tossed the PDA back on the table, carelessly, alarming Gretchen. "I want to know why this general wants me to die. Why he wants us all to die. Don't you?" I put my hand on my forehead and slumped a little against the worktable.

  "Okay," Gretchen said, after a minute. "I think you need to tell me what happened to you today. Because this is not how you were when I left you this afternoon."

  I glanced over at Gretchen, stifled a laugh, and then broke down and started crying. Gretchen came over to give me a hug, and after a good long while, I told her everything. And I do mean everything.

  She was quiet after I had unloaded. "Tell me what you're thinking," I said.

  "If I tell you, you're going to hate me," she said.

  "Don't be silly," I said. "I'm not going to hate you."

  "I think they're right," she said. "Hickory and Dickory."

  "I hate you," I said.

  She pushed me lightly. "Stop that," she said. "I don't mean they were right to attack you. That was just over the line. But, and don't take this the wrong way, you're not an ordinary girl."

  "That's not true," I said. "Do you see me acting any different than anyone else? Ever? Do I hold myself out as someone special? Have you ever once heard me talk about any of this to people?"

  "They know anyway," Gretchen said.

  "I know that," I said. "But it doesn't come from me. I work at being normal."

  "Okay, you're a perfectly normal girl," Gretchen said.

  "Thank you," I said.

  "A perfectly normal girl who's had six attempted assassinations," Gretchen said.

  "But that's not me," I said, poking myself in the chest. "It's about me. About someone else's idea of who I am. And that doesn't matter to me."

  "It would matter to you if you were dead," Gretchen said, and then held her hand up before I could respond. "And it would matter to your parents. It would matter to me. I'm pretty sure it would matter to Enzo. And it seems like it would matter a whole lot to a couple billion aliens. Think about that. Someone even thinks about coming after you, they bomb a planet."

  "I don't want to think about it," I said.

  "I know," Gretchen said. "But I don't think you have a choice anymore. No matter what you do, you're still who you are, whether you want to be or not. You can't change it. You've got to work with it."

  "Thanks for that uplifting message," I said.

  "I'm trying to help," Gretchen said.

  I sighed. "I know, Gretchen. I'm sorry. I don't mean to bite your head off. I'm just getting tired of having my life be about other people's choices for me."

  "This makes you different than any of the rest of us how, exactly?" Gretchen asked.

  "My point," I said. "I'm a perfectly normal girl. Thank you for finally noticing."

  "Perfectly normal," Gretchen agreed. "Except for being Queen of the Obin."

  "Hate you," I said.

  Gretchen grinned.

  * * *

  "Miss Trujillo said that you wanted to see us," Hickory said. Dickory and Gretchen, who had gotten the two Obin for me, stood to its side. We were standing on the hill where my bodyguards had attacked me a few days earlier.

  "Before I say anything else, you s
hould know I am still incredibly angry at you," I said. "I don't know that I will ever forgive you for attacking me, even if I understand why you did it, and why you thought you had to. I want to make sure you know that. And I want to make sure you feel it." I pointed to Hickory's consciousness collar, secure around its neck.

  "We feel it," Hickory said, its voice quivering. "We feel it enough that we debated whether we could turn our consciousness back on. The memory is almost too painful to bear."

  I nodded. I wanted to say good, but I knew it was the wrong thing to say, and that I would regret saying it. Didn't mean I couldn't think it, though, for the moment, anyway.

  "I'm not going to ask you to apologize," I said. "I know you won't. But I want your word you will never do something like that again," I said.

  "You have our word," Hickory said.

  "Thank you," I said. I didn't expect they would do something like that again. That sort of thing works once if it works at all. But that wasn't the point. What I wanted was to feel like I could trust the two of them again. I wasn't there yet.

  "Will you train?" Hickory asked.

  "Yes," I said. "But I have two conditions." Hickory waited. "The first is that Gretchen trains with me."

  "We had not prepared to train anyone other than you," Hickory said.

  "I don't care," I said. "Gretchen is my best friend. I'm not going to learn how to save myself and not share that with her. And besides, I don't know if you've noticed, but the two of you aren't exactly human shaped. I think it will help to practice with another human as well as with you. But this is nonnegotiable. If you won't train Gretchen, I won't train. This is my choice. This is my condition."

  Hickory turned to Gretchen. "Will you train?"

  "Only if Zoë does," she said. "She's my best friend, after all."

  Hickory looked over to me. "She has your sense of humor," it said.

  "I hadn't noticed," I said.

  Hickory turned back to Gretchen. "It will be very difficult," it said.

  "I know," Gretchen said. "Count me in anyway."

  "What is the other condition?" Hickory asked me.

  "I'm doing this for the two of you," I said. "This learning to fight. I don't want it for myself. I don't think I need it. But you think I need it, and you've never asked me to do something you didn't know was important. So I'll do it. But now you have to do something for me. Something I want."

  "What is it that you want?" Hickory asked.

  "I want you to learn how to sing," I said, and gestured to Gretchen. "You teach us to fight, we teach you to sing. For the hootenannies."

  "Sing," Hickory said.

  "Yes, sing," I said. "People are still frightened of the two of you. And no offense, but you're not brimming with personality. But if we can get the four of us to do a song or two at the hootenannies, it could go a long way to making people comfortable with you."

  "We have never sung," Hickory said.

  "Well, you never wrote stories before either," I said. "And you wrote one of those. It's just like that. Except with singing. And then people wouldn't wonder why Gretchen and I are off with the two of you. Come on, Hickory, it'll be fun."

  Hickory looked doubtful, and a funny thought came to me: Maybe Hickory is shy. Which seemed almost ridiculous; someone about to teach another person sixteen different ways to kill getting stage fright singing.

  "I would like to sing," Dickory said. We all turned to Dickory in amazement.

  "It speaks!" Gretchen said.

  Hickory clicked something to Dickory in their native tongue; Dickory clicked back. Hickory responded, and Dickory replied, it seemed a bit forcefully. And then, God help me, Hickory actually sighed.

  "We will sing," Hickory said.

  "Excellent," I said.

  "We will begin training tomorrow," Hickory said.

  "Okay," I said. "But let's start singing practice today. Now."

  "Now?" Hickory said.

  "Sure," I said. "We're all here. And Gretchen and I have just the song for you."

  FIFTEEN

  The next several months were very tiring.

  Early mornings: physical conditioning.

  "You are soft," Hickory said to me and Gretchen the first day.

  "Despicable lies," I said.

  "Very well," Hickory said, and pointed to the tree line of the forest, at least a klick away. "Please run to the forest as quickly as you can. Then run back. Do not stop until you return."

  We ran. By the time I got back, it felt like my lungs were trying to force themselves up my trachea, the better to smack me around for abusing them. Both Gretchen and I collapsed into the grass gasping.

  "You are soft," Hickory repeated. I didn't argue, and not just because at the moment I was totally incapable of speaking. "We are done for today. Tomorrow we will truly begin with your physical conditioning. We will start slowly." It and Dickory walked away, leaving Gretchen and me to imagine ways we were going to murder Hickory and Dickory, once we could actually force oxygen back into our bodies.

  Mornings: school, like every other kid and teen not actively working in a field. Limited books and supplies meant sharing with others. I shared my textbooks with Gretchen, Enzo, and Magdy. This worked fine when we were all speaking to each other, less so when some of us were not.

  "Will you two please focus?" Magdy said, waving his hands in front of the two of us. We were supposed to be doing calculus.

  "Stop it," Gretchen said. She had her head down on our table. It had been a hard workout that morning. "God, I miss coffee," she said, looking up at me.

  "It would be nice to get to this problem sometime today," Magdy said.

  "Oh, what do you care," Gretchen said. "It's not like any of us are going to college anyway."

  "We still have to do it," Enzo said.

  "You do it, then," Gretchen said. She leaned over and pushed the book toward the two of them. "It's not me or Zoë who has to learn this stuff. We already know it. You two are always waiting for us to do the work, and then just nodding like you actually know what we're doing."

  "That's not true," Magdy said.

  "Really? Fine," Gretchen said. "Prove it. Impress me."

  "I think someone's morning exertions are making her a little grumpy," Magdy said, mockingly.

  "What's that supposed to mean?" I said.

  "It means that since the two of you started whatever it is you're doing, you've been pretty useless here," Magdy said. "Despite what Gretchen the Grump is hinting at, it's the two of us who have been carrying the two of you lately, and you know it."

  "You're carrying us in math?" Gretchen said. "I don't think so."

  "Everything else, sweetness," Magdy said. "Unless you think Enzo pulling together that report on the early Colonial Union days last week doesn't count."

  "That's not 'we,' that's Enzo," Gretchen said. "And thank you, Enzo. Happy, Magdy? Good. Now let's all shut up about this." Gretchen put her head back down on the table. Enzo and Magdy looked at each other.

  "Here, give me the book," I said, reaching for it. "I'll do this problem." Enzo slid the book over to me, not quite meeting my gaze.

  Afternoons: training.

  "So, how is the training going?" Enzo asked me one early evening, catching me as I limped home from the day's workout.

  "Do you mean, can I kill you yet?" I asked.

  "Well, no," Enzo said. "Although now that you mention it I'm curious. Can you?"

  "It depends," I said, "on what it is you're asking me to kill you with." There was an uncomfortable silence after that. "That was a joke," I said.

  "Are you sure?" Enzo said.

  "We didn't even get around to how to kill things today," I said, changing the subject. "We spent the day learning how to move quietly. You know. To avoid capture."

  "Or to sneak up on something," Enzo said.

  I sighed. "Yes, okay, Enzo. To sneak up on things. To kill them. Because I like to kill. Kill and kill again, that's me. Little Zoë Stab Stab." I sped up my walking
speed.

  Enzo caught up with me. "Sorry," he said. "That wasn't fair of me."

  "Really," I said.

  "It's just a topic of conversation, you know," Enzo said. "What you and Gretchen are doing."

  I stopped walking. "What kind of conversation?" I asked.

  "Well, think about it," Enzo said. "You and Gretchen are spending your afternoons preparing for the apocalypse. What do you think people are talking about?"

  "It's not like that," I said.

  "I know," Enzo said, reaching out and touching my arm, which reminded me we spent less time touching each other lately. "I've told people that, too. Doesn't keep people from talking, though. That and the fact that it's you and Gretchen."

  "So?" I said.

  "You're the daughter of the colony leaders, she's the daughter of the guy everyone knows is next in line on the colony council," Enzo said. "It looks like you're getting special treatment. If it was just you, people would get it. People know you've got that weird thing you have with the Obin—"

  "It's not weird," I said.

  Enzo looked at me blankly.

  "Yeah, okay," I said.

  "People know you've got that thing with the Obin, so they wouldn't think about it if it was just you," Enzo said. "But the two of you is making people nervous. People wonder if you guys know something we don't."

  "That's ridiculous," I said. "Gretchen is my best friend. That's why I asked her. Should I have asked someone else?"

  "You could have," Enzo said.

  "Like who?" I said.

  "Like me," Enzo said. "You know, your boyfriend."

  "Yeah, because people wouldn't talk about that," I said.

  "Maybe they would and maybe they wouldn't," Enzo said. "But at least I'd get to see you every once in a while."

  I didn't have any good answer to that. So I just gave Enzo a kiss.

 

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