Found Girl

by Pauline Baird Jones

  “In my world, when we say those words to someone, that means you want to marry them. It’s an…official way to tell the world you are a couple. Will you marry me?”

  Her lips curved up, and the light in her eyes grew. “I would like that very much.”

  He opened his mouth, thinking he owed her more, but maybe one of then nurses could explain it to her.

  “I…love you, too,” she added. “Yes, that feels right to say.” She touched her chest as if something had eased in there. “I love you, and I would like very much to marry you.”

  He started to close the small gap between their mouths when someone—Tiger—cleared his throat just outside.

  “Got some incoming birds, Banshee,” he said, his tone carefully neutral.

  Well, warning was what a wing man did. And Coop was too happy to care what he’d overheard. He gave her a crooked grin. “Think they’ll give us the dollar tour of this rust bucket?”

  Her smile widened, though there was some color in her cheeks. Her understanding of slang had expanded a lot in not very long. She glanced outside. “I think they wish to speak with us.”

  He sighed. “I hope lunch isn’t included this time. I’d rather have an MRE.”

  * * *

  Arian and Coop followed their escort to a place that she did not believe was a dining room. For one thing, it lacked the table for eating. It was round, the walls much like those on the planet they’d visited, but without the DNA artwork. A block waited in the center—she presumed it was seating since—it was the correct height. The only other fixture was similar to the console she’d observed in the arrival room.

  On the seating block were two of the communication bracelets. With a shrug, Coop slid his on, tucking it out of sight under his flight jacket.

  “It’s too pretty,” he muttered when Arian lifted a brow in his direction.

  Arian smiled, feeling both shy and more confident in his presence. He loves me. The way he said the words told her they mattered. She slid her bracelet in place, then sat down, feeling the hum of the ship’s engines faintly through the unyielding block. It sometimes felt as if the palms of her hands were tuned to this hum, able to split the sounds into the engines themselves. She glanced around, but there was little to see in this place. Her hands rested on the block, but her mind remembered the feel of his skin against hers when she touched his face. She’d felt the thump of his heart, like an engine, through her palms, and felt the fire licking along his veins, sparking heat in her. I want you. These words had a heightened meaning, she sensed, something to do with how bodies came together in the act of coupling. She edged her fingers over, until they just touched Coop’s where they rested on the block. Immediately his head turned her way, and he grinned, covering her hand and squeezing it. She licked her lips and saw flames flicker in his eyes.

  “I do…understand…more than you think I do,” she murmured.

  His grin was hot and rueful. “Then we’d better hurry and tie the knot.”

  Her brows creased. “Tie…”

  “Get married.”

  He did not appear worried, but Arian was not as optimistic. Would his Colonel let them get married? As if he heard her worry, he squeezed her hand again. “I’ll handle it.”

  His confidence was infectious. “Sooner would be,” she bit her lip and looked at him through her lashes, “better.”

  “We should probably change the subject or—” He massaged the back of his neck with his free hand, the wink of the bracelet catching the light.

  “Yes,” she agreed, trying not to grin. She glanced around, but there was nothing to distract except her usual. “This ship has fine engines.”

  “Yeah?” Coop looked around, too, giving a small start as another voice joined their discussion.

  “Thank you, munshi.”

  Arian twisted to look at the bird standing in the hatch opening. She rose, pulling free of Coop’s hold, and faced this bird, noting that its uniform appeared to have signs of what could be rank.

  “You are the Captain.”

  The bird inclined its head. “Are you also a pilot, munshi?”

  Arian gestured toward Coop. “Captain Cooper flew our ship during the recent battle.” At least, until he had to turn the ship over to her. It was not exactly an answer, but their answers had been light on detail so far, so she did not feel guilty.

  Again the bird inclined its head. “We thank you for your fierce defense of our border, Captain.” Its head angled to one side. “We offer our sympathies for the warrior you lost.”

  Arian did not have to be touching Coop to know he stiffened at this, but he nodded. “Thank you.” As if he wanted to change the topic of conversation he added, “And thank you for the lift.”

  “The…lift?” The Captain angled its head the other direction.

  “The ride back to our ship?”

  “It is our honor to convey you to your ship.” There was a pause. “Please to be seated. Our Prime Minister is initiating contact momentarily.”

  The bird walked up, taking a position next to the bench, the long expanse of its neck bending in a wide loop so that it appeared that its head rested on its back. The wall ahead of them, actually a view screen, she realized, flickered once, twice, and then resolved into a video of Hoteimai, the bird from the feast.

  “We thank you, munshi, and Captain Cooper, for your assistance during the breach of the sanctuary.”

  Arian inclined her head, but it fell far short of what these birds could do. “I kept my word, as far as I was able.” She had not wholly solved their problem. She was certain Hoteimai knew this as well.

  “Yes.”

  Did it seem as if Hoteimai relaxed?

  “We have not battled the Mycterians for many…”

  Arian was not able to translate this word for time that the Captain used. Marking time’s passage felt like one of the larger barriers to understanding between them.

  “We are reviewing the data you collected, but we wish to hear your assessment of the battle.”

  Coop’s shoulders twitched as if he were tense, but he sounded calm as he gave his report. This was his field of expertise, of course.

  “They are fierce fighters,” he summed up, “able to adapt quickly to changes in tactics. And they are damn scary up close.”

  Hoteimai’s head moved in what could be agreement. “Will they return?”

  Coop did not hesitate. “They will.”

  “The border is repaired,” the Captain pointed out.

  “The array has been patched but they know this system is here.” Arian glanced at Coop as she said this. “They believe you are here.”

  “If they believe that, they would not have sent so few ships through the breach.”

  Coop nodded as if acknowledging this point. “It looked like a probing run to me, a test to see how closely the border is being monitored.”

  “You pushed them back.” The Captain watched Coop intently.

  “Yes, and they will go home and take what they learned and adapt, at least, that’s what we do when an enemy smacks us down.” He looked at Arian now. “Say, they rammed the array at that weak point? Could it hold?”

  “No.” She did not hesitate. She added, “Ramming it would be dangerous for them. They would lose or damage ships in the process. But it is the fastest way to get in.”

  “I don’t think they care. They’ve been trying to get in for a long time,” Coop pointed out. “They are what we’d call highly motivated.”

  “So they are coming.” Hoteimai was silent. It seemed to sigh. “We have known, we have prepared, but it has been many…” Again that word that would not translate. “…preparing for invasion, but…”

  “You didn’t have the advance intelligence you needed,” Coop guessed. “Neither did they,” he added when Hoteimai ruffled its wings. “Well, you’ve both had a look. What do you think of your chances, Captain?” He twisted to look directly at the ship’s captain.

  The captain hesitated. “Our peopl
e are brave, but they lack…the instinct to destroy. That is why this sanctuary was created for us. So that we could remain who we were, who we are.”

  Arian sensed more behind the story, sensed more that she knew this story if only she could remember.

  “The munshi knew this. That is why they aided us,” Hoteimai said, sadness in its voice. “But you are only one, not seven, and the Urclock is silent. This time, I fear, there will be no retreat for our species.”

  “The…Urclock?” Arian murmured the words as a question, but it was directed at herself, or rather that place in her head where knowledge—and answers—still hid.

  “Seven?” Coop jerked, his gaze darting to her.

  She gave a slight shake of her head. “I am…meta. The third.”

  “You can not form a tangram alone,” Hoteimai said.

  “No,” Arian agreed, “but if I could start the clock…”

  “Start an Urclock?” Coop sounded most dubious. “Are you sure you should?”

  She half smiled. “Why not?”

  “Well, Urclock sounds…dangerous.” He stopped and rubbed his face, wincing when he got too close to a swelling bruise.

  Arian looked at him. She smiled faintly. “Like love, it is a leap.”

  He stared at her, shaking his head slowly. “That’s…”

  “You can do this. You can start the clock?” Hoteimai asked.

  “I believe so,” she said, “but…you have to let them go. You have to let the Boyington leave when it wishes to.”

  Coop shifted sharply next to her. She did not look at him. She could not look at him. Not now.

  Hoteimai did not speak for a long time. Finally, it nodded. “So be it.” It made a movement that could be considered wry. “We could not require any people to stay when the sanctuary is no longer safe.”

  * * *

  “What the hell was that??” Coop hissed at Arian as they were led back through the corridor’s of the bird ship.

  She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I gave your colonel my word.”

  He wanted to stop her, make her look him in the eye, but they couldn’t stop. “You remember what’s out there? And the storks might not be the worst thing.” And she’d promised to marry him. To go—she hadn’t promised to go with him, he recalled now. Just to marry him. She didn’t understand.

  “I believe that leaving through the array is not the only way for your ship to get home, but…” She stopped just shy of the ramp. “I gave my word. He will decide your best path home, Coop.”

  “Arian,” he looked around, then shifted around, dropping his voice, “I…” he hesitated, but if he didn’t say the words, he might lose her. “We’re getting married. We’re staying together forever. Remember?”

  She stopped and turned to face him. “I will never forget. I want to be with you forever, but I must help these people.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you fight for your people?”

  “These are not your people,” he pointed out. There might have been a hint of desperation in his voice.

  “No, without you I have no one, but there is something that binds me to them, to their protection. If I fail…” her voice trailed off.

  They turned and started walking again.

  “Is this about that tangram thing?” he asked, finally.

  “Yes. But more is at stake than the tangram.” She rubbed her temples in frustration. “If only I could remember!” She looked at him then, the haunted look back in her eyes. “Coop, what if I am a…a clone?”

  His heart jerked. The doc had said memories couldn’t pass through DNA, but they’d seen some weird crap since leaving Earth. He took her hand, gripping it. He had to hang on tight for long enough.

  “You’re you. How you started—” He shook his head in frustration, and then lifted her hand to his mouth. They were just shy of the bay now. He glanced around. “It doesn’t matter. Losing you? That matters. You’re the one person—” Even as he tried, he knew why she would stay and help them. She may not know what to call it, but he recognized it. A sense of duty that made no sense to anyone on the outside or who didn’t feel it.

  “I spoke the truth when I said I felt I must save these,” her head tipped toward their guards, “them. There is a storm inside. For you. For them. To take my joy in opposition to—” She paused in frustration.

  “Duty. To your duty.”

  She looked at him, frustration fading. “Yes, if I do not do my duty I would break, it would break what we have. I have to try. It is a matter of trust.”

  “Then we’ll just have to persuade Pappy not to leave because I’m not leaving without you. We’re in this together from now on.” She did not look convinced. “My word on it.” Doubt lingered in her eyes. “My word on it. Trust me.”

  She smiled, but there was still sadness in it. “I do. Believe me, Coop, but the storm is not just inside. It is out there. I feel it here.” She placed a hand on her chest.

  He took her hand, clasped it to his chest. “I feel it, too.” He lifted her hand to his mouth. He didn’t care anymore who saw it. “Any chance we can get them moving back toward the Boyington?”

  “We are moving. Can you not feel it?”

  He looked down. He tapped the deck with a boot, but could not feel the change. “Really?”

  Her smile was real this time. “Truly.”

  29

  The return to the Boyington felt anticlimactic. In her heart, she had Coop’s words, his love, and confidence in their future together. They’d somewhat accomplished their mission, but one shuttle was scrap, one shuttle damaged, one warrior was dead, three injured, and now they knew the risks of leaving this sanctuary through the array. It felt as if all her actions led either back to her ship or to this ready room where the unhappy Colonel waited for their report.

  He looked weary, and as if he’d aged more than the few days they’d been gone from the ship. Lines cut deep into his face and around his eyes.

  “It’s not that I don’t appreciate—” the colonel stopped speaking and scrubbed at his face as if his head pained him. He looked at Coop now. “Our guys have been able to get a fix on Earth, on how far we are from home.”

  His expression told her it was not the good news they’d hoped to get.

  “How far, sir?” Coop asked.

  “Best case? A couple of hundred years. Worst case…” he stopped and leaned back in his chair, his mien that of a man who wanted to be moving, not sitting.

  Coop’s shoulders rose and then fell in a sigh. He glanced at Arian. “Plan B?”

  Arian did not know what this meant.

  “You said there might be another way home?” he prompted.

  The dots connected inside her head. Leaving the long way home was Plan A. Her other option was Plan B. She nodded, aware the colonel was not going to like much about Plan B. He did not seem to like much of anything she said. She tried to order her thoughts, not easy since there were gaps still in what she knew, or thought she knew. Inside her head, she followed a faint trail that beckoned her to a distant light.

  The colonel’s brows arched interrogatively. “Let’s hear it.” His face, his tone, were not encouraging.

  Arian thought for a moment, then asked, “Do you recall the anomaly that brought us here?” She heard the words and was angry with herself. How could they forget the event that had made them lost?

  “The wormhole?” The colonel did try not to look more annoyed as he nodded.

  “It is not a wormhole, at least, not in the way I believe your scientists would classify a wormhole.”

  “How is it different?”

  “A wormhole is a connected point between two places in space that allows transit in one direction.”

  The colonel blinked. He looked like he wished to speak, but did not know what to ask.

  “What we experienced was different. It was unnatural.”

  He straightened. “You mean someone made it?”

  “I believe so.”

&nbs
p; “Who?”

  “I am not certain.” She suspected…but the knowledge danced just out of reach, taunting her. Was it the munshi? A munshi? Yes, they had made it, she decided, but was some other entity trying to use the machinery of the munshi? Was the tangram forming? Or was it relic of a past when the tangram had formed the first time? But if that was the case, why was the Urclock still silent?

  “I’m not sure I understand. Are you saying this isn’t connected to two points?”

  Both men did look confused.

  Arian called up a HUD for them, noticed they both started at the sight. Had she done something wrong? The colonel looked at Coop, then looked at her.

  “How did you do that?” Coop asked.

  She blinked. She was not entirely sure. There was no control device for her. She’d just…thought it. Her eyes wide, she looked at him. “I am not sure…”

  The colonel cleared his throat. “What am I looking at?”

  “This is the anomaly,” Arian said.

  “It looks like a wormhole.”

  “That is how we perceived the section we could see,” Arian agreed. She expanded their view. “But I believe it is more like a continuous tunnel. We entered it in one system, and then exited in this system, so we experienced it as something random, not a continuous event that caught us up briefly, then ejected us here.”

  The colonel frowned. “Are you saying, we can ride this back to where we came from?”

  Arian shook her head. “It does not have…” She frowned, not able to find an analogy between the anomaly and anything in her previous life.

  “An on ramp,” Coop suggested.

  She considered this and then nodded. “How and where it opens is determined elsewhere. If we controlled the machine…” She frowned at her diagram. Was the machine at the center of the tangram? She sensed the colonel shifting impatiently. “There is a device that the Phoenicopterians have in their cathedral that might open a way back to your system.”