Icarus Down

by James Bow

  “No!” I pointed past him. “Where is Nathaniel?”

  Mayor Tuan turned, and swore. Neither Nathaniel nor Matthew were on stage. I pushed past the mayor and ran to the steps, scanning the crowd. “There!” I shouted. Nathaniel and Matthew were running for the nearest exit.

  Mayor Tuan ran back to the podium. “Everyone,” he shouted. “Stay calm!”

  You know, somehow shouting “Stay calm!” never works.

  Other people converged on the Tals. I saw Gabriel get there first, but Nathaniel dropped him with a punch. Without another thought, I grabbed my gun from where I’d left it and jumped off the stage.

  When I got to Gabriel, he was surrounded by Daedalon security officers. They all wanted to help him up. He batted the hands back angrily. “I’m all right! I’m all right! Will somebody get after those two men?”

  I looked around at the Great Hall. People were shouting. Others gazed up at the screen, where the projector now showed the fall of the Icarus. People screamed when the screen flashed white. Security officers ran this way and that, trying to keep order. The mayor of Daedalon stood at the podium, shouting, but no one heard him.

  I left Gabriel and ran through the door after the Tals.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  THE FALL OF NATHANIEL TAL

  SIMON:

  I pelted down the stairs to the lower levels. I ran through the arboretum, past giggling couples. I couldn’t see Nathaniel or Matthew anywhere, but I knew where they’d go.

  I crashed through the flight-bay doors and spotted two attendants lying on the floor, unconscious. I put my hand on my holster and looked around.

  Except for the two attendants, the flight bay looked empty, shut down for Nocturne. Outside the doors, ornithopters dangled by their tailhooks. Which one would Nathaniel pick?

  Then I heard Nathaniel’s calm voice, along with Matthew’s frantic one. They were coming closer. My hand still on the gun, I ducked behind a support pillar, waiting for my moment to strike.

  Nathaniel emerged, wearing a parachute pack. He pulled his brother along and shoved another pack into his arms. “Put this on, now!”

  “Is it true, what he said?” Matthew gabbled. “Well, is it?”

  “What does it matter? The important thing is too many people believed it. We have to get to Octavia to get ahead of this.”

  “What does it matter?” Matthew echoed. “Of course it matters! Our father? Committing genocide? To be tied to the shames of Old Mother Earth, such evil …”

  Nathaniel grabbed his brother and shook him till his head flapped. “Seventy-two years the Icarus was in deep space! Seventy-two years! Our father knew that if the Captain followed Earth protocol and turned the ship around, there’d be mutiny. He also knew that there’d be mutiny if the Captain didn’t turn the ship around! And all for a bunch of lizards who’d just figured out how to put tools together? We’re here and we’re alive because of our father’s impossibly hard choice, and I’m going to see to it that you ascend to the Captaincy and that this colony finally gives us the honour our family is due!”

  “Wow.” I stepped out from behind the pillar, my gun pointed. Nathaniel rounded on me. The mayor looked pale. “Wow,” I said again. “You did know. All this time you knew. And you were okay with it.”

  Nathaniel smiled that infuriating, calm smile. “Mr. Daud. I see you’ve come alone.”

  “Others will be here soon. You’re under arrest, Tal.”

  “Under what charge?” he said.

  “You know what charges. Murder. Terrorism. Conspiracy to cover up genocide.”

  “I have nothing to be ashamed of,” said Nathaniel coolly.

  “Your father had the decency to be ashamed!” I struggled to keep my voice level. “It’s obvious he did: the last known survivor of the Icarus? He could have ascended to the Captaincy if he wanted to, but he didn’t. He took a quiet posting on Iapyx and he tried to hide himself away. And though he told you what happened, Nathaniel …” I nodded at Matthew. “… he never told your baby brother.”

  Nathaniel’s face went dark red. Matthew, seeing this, took a frightened step back. But Nathaniel did nothing. After a long moment, he tamped down his anger. When he spoke, it was almost a whisper. “What happens now, Mr. Daud?”

  “You come with me and face the charges against you. Mayor Tuan has promised a fair trial, which is more than you deserve.”

  Nathaniel tilted his head. “And if I refuse?”

  “Why would you? You’ve got no place to run.”

  Nathaniel’s smile widened, and I wanted so much to smack it off. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he said. “It’s Nocturne, Simon. The sun won’t be up for another few hours. Nobody can see Daedalon’s semaphore, especially now that Iapyx is gone. So we can outrun the news. My brother and I can make it to Octavia and tell them why they shouldn’t believe the fantastic tales Daedalon will spread to ensure their mayor ascends to the Captaincy for the second time in a row, and how the Mayor of Daedalon is working with the Grounder terrorists that brought down Iapyx. By morning, we’ll have ornithopters at our command.”

  I gaped at him. He was going to use the reactions of people like the CommController to protect himself. “You’d set the cities against one another to protect a lie?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not protecting a lie, Simon, I’m protecting people from the truth. My father saved this colony from a cruel decision, and I’m saving the people from the horrible knowledge that we’d made that decision. We’re not so different, Simon. We both believe the truth is worth fighting for.”

  I brought up the gun and pointed it right between his eyes. “Thousands of people are dead because of you, you son of a bitch!” My voice shook. “I am not like you! You killed Aaron! You killed my city! You killed — You killed —” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You killed Rachel.”

  Nathaniel just stood there, his hands by his sides. “Yes, I did, Simon,” he said quietly. “In most of those cases, I didn’t mean to, but I still did what I had to. I’m walking away now, and if you want to stop me, you’re going to have to shoot me. If you think justice demands vengeance, go ahead. Pull the trigger.” He showed his teeth. “Be a man.”

  My finger tightened on the trigger. Nathaniel didn’t flinch. My hand trembled.

  All I had to do was move my finger another millimetre, and it would be over. Nathaniel wouldn’t be able to hide behind the lies and manipulate the other cities with them. The truth would come out, all of it. I could do it. All I had to do was, for just one moment, be like him.

  A moment passed.

  Another.

  I flipped the safety back on the gun, lowered my hand, and stepped back.

  Nathaniel’s mouth curled. “You see? It’s not so easy, making the hard decisions.”

  “Go on.” I stepped aside, leaving the way clear to the ornithopters. “Get out.” I turned and walked away.

  Behind me, I heard Nathaniel grab the mayor and hurry to the ornithopter bay.

  * * *

  ELIZA:

  I watched Simon walk away. A part of me felt that I should be disappointed, but the rest of me was proud of him, though I wasn’t sure why. I knew now, however, why the luck of the Elders had brought us together.

  I had dropped my gun during my angry run through the corridors, but I had no need of it now.

  Nathaniel hurried his brother toward the see-through doors. A mechanical insect dangled from its tail outside.

  “I thought he was going to kill you,” Matthew gabbled.

  “I knew he wouldn’t,” said Nathaniel. “I know his type.”

  “What type is that?” Matthew asked.

  “Good,” I said.

  Both men froze. I stepped out from behind the pillar.

  Nathaniel frowned. “Who are you?”

  I ignored the question. “Simon is good. That why he not kill you. You kill; he can not.” Even if it meant letting go the one who killed his friends and his love and his city, he could not kill. Not with
out killing part of himself. And, though the thought surprised me, I found I was glad he could not. And I said so. « I would hate to see that part of him die. »

  The clicks made horror rise in their faces. Nathaniel let go of his brother and stepped forward. I planted my feet. “Do not.” It was a clear warning. It stopped him.

  “Who are you?”

  “The Icarus,” I said. “I am last survivor.”

  Matthew looked bewildered. Nathaniel stared at me. Then he took a step back, and another. He nodded at my empty hands and the empty holster. “You’re not armed. You can’t stop us. If you want to live, don’t try.”

  He grabbed Matthew’s arm and pushed open the see-through doors. Matthew stumbled after him, looking back. I followed quietly. When Nathaniel put his hand on the mechanical insect, I pushed open the door and called out, “Nathaniel Tal!”

  He stopped. He looked back at me.

  I pulled my blowpipe from my pocket. “Unlike Simon, I am like you.”

  For the Elder, I thought. For my people. For Simon. For Simon’s people.

  “For Rachel.”

  I put the blowpipe to my lips.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ICARUS RISING

  SIMON:

  At the top of the stairs from the flight bay, I was met by what looked like Mayor Tuan’s entire security retinue.

  “You’re too late,” I said. “They’re flying to Octavia.”

  The mayor’s chief of security waved the men and women down the stairs. “Scramble the pilots! Get after them!”

  As they rushed to organize pilots and get the ornithopters ready, I made to push past the group and head back to the Great Hall, but Daedalon’s chief of security stepped in front of me. “Wait over there, please.” He nodded to a spot by the wall.

  “Am I under arrest?”

  He gave me a narrow-eyed look. “Do you want to be?”

  The meaning was clear. I didn’t like it, but I was tired and alone. Eliza — where had she gone? I went to the wall and leaned against it.

  In the corridor leading to the Great Hall, some bureaucrat was gabbling at Mayor Tuan. “I assure you, the mayor of Octavia had no inkling of the accusations that could be raised against Mayor Tal. When the mayor gets a full report, I’m sure she’ll tell you—”

  “I’ll hear that from Octavia herself, thank you very much,” said Mayor Tuan. “I expect you to send a message to your mayor at first light, telling her the things Nathaniel might not have said upon his arrival at your city.”

  As he spoke, he slapped something against his other hand. I recognized it: my arrivals log, that I’d rescued from the to-be-pulped bin in Iapyx’s record rooms. Beyond the mayor, I saw Gabriel standing beside the battery girl. The mayor of Daedalon looked at the report in his hand. His frown deepened.

  People rushed back and forth in front of me. I heard ornithopter engines start up beyond the stairwell below. If I closed my eyes now, I thought, I could sleep. Maybe I should. I’d been walking for months, carrying the truth with me, and I was so tired.

  But then I felt a presence beside me. I looked up to see Eliza leaning against the wall beside me. She gave me a smile, tapped her fist to mine, and I smiled back.

  There were sounds of buzzing ornithopters, passing close. I heard more shouting, someone calling for people to contact the stem guards, and then, moments later, someone calling for a search party to locate the stem guards.

  “We’re in trouble, now,” I said.

  Finally, a pilot and guard came running up the steps. They stopped before Mayor Tuan and Daedalon’s chief of security, breathing heavily.

  The mayor frowned. “Where are the Tals?”

  “They didn’t take an ornithopter,” said the pilot. “We counted. Nothing’s missing.”

  “They jumped,” the guard cut in. “I just heard back from a group that went out to the stem compound. They found, um, parts of them, sir.”

  Jumped.

  I blinked.

  Other people were whispering, and I heard the news travelling up the stairs. The Tals committed suicide … They’ve admitted their guilt … The Octavian official looked shocked, then grim.

  It was — as such things go — good news. Nathaniel’s suicide could well have saved the colony from a nasty conflict. He’d done us a great service. But I didn’t buy it. I couldn’t. Nathaniel had promised to outrun the news. He’d promised to fight on, destroying the peace of the planet to protect his lie. It made no sense that he should suddenly give up.

  And I couldn’t help but think that Mom had fallen. They’d found … parts of her, too. Nathaniel certainly hadn’t flown, but I didn’t think he jumped, either.

  But if he didn’t jump …

  Nathaniel was a big man. No one could have pushed him, surely? He’d fight back … unless he couldn’t. Unless he was shot down, and not by bullets, since the guards would have seen that.

  A poison thorn, on the other hand, shot by a blowpipe …

  I looked hard at Eliza. She looked back at me. Her expression didn’t change. Finally, I looked away. “Yes,” I said out loud. “Suicide. That’s probably what happened.”

  Mayor Tuan, hearing my voice, turned toward me. “Simon Daud.”

  I pushed away from the wall. “That’s me.”

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” He was seething.

  I stood my ground. “I told the truth. What happens next is not my fault.”

  “Not your fault?” he echoed. “You’ve broken this colony apart!”

  “Maybe this colony needed to be broken,” I said. “The better to put it back together again.”

  “Everybody is in shock,” said the mayor. “They can’t believe what the advance team did. People are demanding we make restitution even though there’s no one to make restitution to—”

  Behind me, Eliza cleared her throat, with quite an alarming click.

  “Well, that’s for the people to decide, isn’t it?” I said. “We’re already having an election. Aren’t elections a good time to decide things?”

  “Don’t get smart with me, Simon,” the mayor snapped.

  “I survived seven months in the fog forest,” I said. “I’ve been to the Icarus. I’ve learned the truth behind this colony, the truth that Nathaniel killed for, and I’ve shared it. What happens next is up to you.”

  “But what do we do?” He looked at me, and this time I could see the fear in his eyes. Fear about the future. “If you’re so smart, tell me: What do we do?”

  I had no idea. I didn’t know what to tell him, until, behind me, Eliza came closer and whispered, “The eggs.”

  Yes, I thought. The eggs that could only hatch on the planet we were supposed to land on. And while I was thinking about the truth, I couldn’t ignore this fact: the truth was that the next step was up to me. I was a part of this colony. I had a responsibility to help decide what we did next.

  A certainty rose inside me. The eggs were our responsibility now.

  I looked at Mayor Tuan. “Okay. The Icarus — the engines, the metal — that gives us options. But we’ve got responsibilities, too. I have … something to tell you.” Something impossible: we need to leave this planet.

  The mayor frowned at my expression, but something in it must have convinced him. “All right,” he said at last. “Come with me. Let’s hear it.”

  With renewed energy, I pushed myself away from the wall and gave Eliza an encouraging smile and raised a hand to show the way. We had work to do.

  * * *

  I’ve read the textbooks. I know you know what happened next. You’ll have heard about the election, and how the imprisoned Grounders returned to their cities and spread the truth. You’ll have been taught about how our people threw their effort behind moving our cities to the planet we were originally supposed to colonize, a planet we were already calling Icarus Rising.

  Yes, most people wanted to be someplace better, with night, and oceans and blue skies. But many also spoke about justi
ce and making amends, about the need for the eggs of the Elder’s people to be returned to their proper breeding grounds. Eight years we worked, lowering our cities into the fog forest and upending them, making them ready to go into space again. We salvaged the technology of the Icarus, reverse engineered the equipment, and made the jump engines fire one last time.

  I was there on the first Landing Day — the event we now celebrate like we used to celebrate Nocturne. I saw an ocean for the first time. Can you imagine? I held Eliza’s hand and we stood together for hours, staring and listening.

  But all of that was in my future. As I prepared to follow the mayor of Daedalon to the Great Hall, these ideas weren’t ones I’d dared to think yet. They weren’t what impressed me most about that moment.

  What impressed me was Eliza. As I held my hand out to show the way, she looked at me, and gave me a smile that seemed … shy.

  Then she reached up and kissed me.

  It wasn’t a perfect kiss, but considering she must have learned it only by watching others do it during the Nocturne celebrations, it was more than a passable attempt. She held her face to mine by pressing her wrist to the back of my neck. We knocked noses, bumped foreheads, and then for a second we were eye to eye. I could see her concentrating on getting it right.

  Then her lips met mine. And that was perfect. For that moment, I had wings.

  “You coming?” Mayor Tuan called, snapping me back to the present.

  Eliza and I pulled back, reluctant, but there was work to do. “Yes,” I said. I smiled at Eliza.

  She reached out — her hand open, with no weapon, no threat — and took my hand. I gave it a gentle squeeze, and we followed the mayor up the stairs, to what I hoped would be redemption.

  EPILOGUE

  ELIZA:

  This is a history.

  An appendix to a history, which I have both lived and read.

  To you, maybe, it looks like a good story. The brave struggle to leave the planet that was nearly the tomb of two races. The happy ending of twelve limping, makeshift ships touching down on a kind planet, a blue planet of salt flats and tides. Icarus Rising. The wrongs of the past undone.