Confluence 2: Remanence

by Jennifer Foehner Wells

  It backed up, the whites of its tiny eyes showing.

  He muttered at the beast, “That’s right. You back down, little man. I’m fucking intimidating.”

  The side door of the car flipped up just a few feet from Alan and slowed to a roll.

  The cyber leg vibrated—it was back in business. No time to test it. He took off at a sprint to intercept it, diving inside when their paths crossed. He tumbled into a seat and looked back to see the suesupus paw at the ground, then charge. Ajaya closed the door and the car was off again at top speed.

  Alan pulled himself up as the car sped away. The suesupus followed at a good clip for a while, then seemed to tire or lose interest and came to a stop, rapidly becoming a tiny speck in a cloud of dust behind them.

  He hauled himself upright, panting. Ron was driving. The atellans looked very confused, their ears pulled so far back the skin of their faces was taut, and they were slowly blinking at each other and the humans. They must have been out in the sun for a while because their skin had become visibly darker.

  Ajaya was glaring at him. “Well,” she said, “how is the engine?”

  Alan pushed dust-coated hair back from his face. “It’s fucked. We’re fucked.”

  25

  Jane and Jaross walked together through the shadowy rabbit warren of rooms and short corridors that made up the compound. Jaross was serious about overseeing her domain. She didn’t seem to micromanage, but to put out small fires before they became larger and more difficult. She spent her days giving advice and connecting people who needed each other.

  As they strolled, Jane spied Tinor eating a meal with some children of the same age and waved. When Tinor saw Jane, iad leapt up to join them. The child had been shadowing several medical professionals and chattered at Jane excitedly about the experience. They had more functional medical technology here. The youth was very excited to learn about it.

  “What will you do now?” Jaross asked Jane when they moved on.

  “I need to go back and find out how my friends have fared with the engines,” Jane answered. This was the third day of walking and talking like this with Jaross. As the days passed, Jane felt less and less like a recovering invalid, but that improvement was counterbalanced by anxiety that grew with each passing hour without contact from Ei’Brai or her crew. She hated to cut the visit short. She was enjoying Jaross’s company and was learning so much about sectilian culture, but not knowing what was happening with her friends was killing her. She was sure something was wrong with Ei’Brai. It was so unlike him to be so uncommunicative. Getting back to the Speroancora as soon as possible had to be their top priority now.

  “The engines, yes,” Jaross replied. It felt as though Jane had told Jaross everything that had happened since she’d left her home on Earth. The last three days had been warm and full of stories and sharing. Jaross was insatiably inquisitive. She looked thoughtful. “Do you think they could possibly have survived the impact after such a drop? And one had been on fire, correct?”

  Jane frowned. “They were designed to be dropped in an emergency, but I’ve no idea what it will take to repair them or if that’s even possible. My engineer is very capable.”

  “What will you do if the worst should come to pass?”

  Jane heaved a deep sigh. “To be honest, I don’t know. I don’t like to think about that. I have faith that we’ll find a way back to our ship, somehow. I can’t…I can’t bear the thought of abandoning Ei’Brai up there—all alone again. It was such a terrible trial for him, before.”

  “Yes. His pain was great.”

  Jane had shared that with Jaross. They’d had several sessions with Ryliuk as well. It certainly saved time in the telling.

  One of Jaross’s thin eyebrows perched high on her forehead. “You will return to him.” She looked forward again, her arms folded and her hands each tucked into the opposite sleeve of her ornately embroidered cream-colored garment.

  “I’m worried about him,” Jane said, glancing up at the ceiling as though she could see through it to the sky, the clouds, the ship, and Ei’Brai himself.

  “Could he have contracted an illness? Perhaps he is resting after the long journey.” Jaross paused at the bottom of the ramp. They were in the basement and garage area of the compound, where Jane had arrived.

  “I don’t know,” Jane said. That hadn’t occurred to her. It made her worry even more.

  “You will leave at daybreak, then? You will take Ryliuk?”

  “Yes. With your permission.” Ryliuk seemed to be convinced he was already a member of her crew and Jaross had not protested the notion further, so Jane hoped it wouldn’t cause trouble. She thought he would make a fine addition. He seemed to be capable and confident, and he knew how things had worked before the plague. The technology wouldn’t be a mystery to him. There were things he would know that Ei’Brai didn’t know. That could be helpful.

  “It is given, freely. Ryliuk has made his case. He belongs with you and the kuboderan.”

  Jane suppressed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  “Your crew is very small. The ship was meant to hold thousands.”

  “Yes, but we manage.”

  “Have you made any attempt to recruit?”

  Jane hesitated. She felt sure Jaross knew the answer to that question. It was clear to Jane that the atellans felt their first duty was to their own people, to bring their society out of this terrible setback. Jane wouldn’t disrespect Jaross by trying to entice anyone away. She didn’t want to make trouble. “No, I haven’t,” She said solemnly.

  “Would you consider volunteers?”

  Jane’s brow came down. “I’m not sure what you’re asking, Gis’dux.”

  Jaross swept the tail of her braid over her shoulder. “I would like to accompany you.”

  Jane took a step back, her mouth gaping. This was so unexpected. “What? You would?”

  “Yes. I believe you are surprised.”

  Jane stared at her hard. “Well, yes. Your reaction to Ryliuk on the day I arrived led me to think it would be impossible for anyone—perhaps even him—to join us.”

  “Do you want people to join you, Qua’dux?”

  Jane sighed. “That’s a good question. On one hand, it would be good to have more hands to help us achieve our goals. On the other, it could be dangerous. We’re so inexperienced. We don’t have the knowledge of the galaxy and the technology that the sectilian race does. But I do worry about putting other people at risk. We will make mistakes.”

  “You are terran. That alone qualifies you for the position. If you will have me, you will be my Quasador Dux. I’m trained as an engineer. I will be of use to you, I assure you.”

  “I have no doubt of that, but you…but…you don’t want the command?”

  Now Jaross looked surprised. “No! I have told you the Speroancora is yours. That would not change because I came to my senses and realized what you represent to us—not just to sectilians, but to all the Sentients. I have given this careful consideration in the days we’ve spent together. What you have accomplished thus far is nothing short of stunning. This is a moment that will be remembered.”

  Jane frowned. “I mean no disrespect, but I don’t know anything about the Cunabula or their purpose for us. I don’t know if your legends about us are meaningful. I’m simply a woman. I’m not a prophet.”

  Jaross tilted her head in a thoughtful way. “The writings of the Cunabula aren’t meant to be prophetic. Cunabulists aren’t religious zealots—they’re students of science. And terrans weren’t chosen by gods—you were bred. Your commitment to the Kubodera is honorable, supremely altruistic. It’s an example of what is needed—perhaps more sectilian than the Sectilius. You will inspire many, even if you fail. I want to be a part of that.”

  Jane just stared at her, discomfited.

  “We will know, in time,” Jaross said. She looked sure and very zen.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Then don’t say anything
.” Jaross’s eyes lit with mischief. She raised a hand in an unusual way and Jane realized she was signaling someone. The dimly lit room brightened and Jane heard something scraping across the floor. From behind a hodgepodge of various types of primitive wagons and carriages, a group of atellans, including Ryliuk, pushed a shuttle forward.

  Jane’s mouth dropped open. “Oh! I…” She walked up to it and the atellans stopped pushing.

  “Is it the same model?” Jaross asked.

  Jane walked around it, comparing it to the one she’d flown down from the ship. “No. This is similar but definitely a different vintage. Ours is cornu class. This is…penna class, I believe? Somewhat smaller and meant for cargo, not passengers.”

  “The power cells will be compatible, I’m certain of that,” Jaross said. “There were just a few shuttles on Atielle when the plague hit. They were used extensively in the days after. Until the power cells became useless, they were one of just a few ways that survivors could find each other and consolidate isolated populations. This vehicle has been used a great deal, but it was built to last. It will convey us to your ship without difficulty, once we install the power cells from your craft.”

  Jane raised an eyebrow at Jaross. She hadn’t taken their landing story very seriously if she thought it wouldn’t be difficult.

  A woman opened the craft. Jane and Jaross stepped inside. The rear compartment of the vehicle contained a couple of banks of seats from a land vehicle retrofitted at odd angles to make them fit. However, as she looked into the cockpit, she could see that the controls were similar to those on her shuttle. It could work.

  Jane had a strong urge to hug Jaross. Now they wouldn’t have to wait for Alan and Ron to repair the engines. They’d be able to move on in just a few days. “I don’t know how to thank you for this. I’m overwhelmed.”

  “There is no need to thank me,” Jaross said. “Your mission is just and good and may in fact assist my people through this dark time. I only wish I could spare more individuals to join the cause. As it is, my leadership role will be filled by my very capable brother. I, alone, may be sacrificed without hardship for the community.”

  Jane raised her eyebrows, but declined to comment.

  Jaross continued, “Ryliuk’s presence will be helpful in dealing with the stranded kuboderans you’ll encounter. He is well trained in the psychological well-being of that race. These kuboderans have never known anything except living among sectilians. You need the Sectilius. I’m sure you have considered this problem.”

  Jane nodded slowly. “I have, yes. I had hoped to find allies here on Atielle. But Sten’s disinterested attitude toward us and your reaction to Ryliuk’s initial offer to join us made me think it was unlikely that we would be allowed to recruit anyone.”

  Jaross inclined her slender neck in acknowledgement but didn’t comment on that. “You will need more individuals simply to crew the derelict ships you encounter during your mission.”

  Jane didn’t need reminding about that problem. She thought about it daily.

  26

  Alan was having a meal in a cafeteria with Ron, Ajaya, and Schlewan. Today it was big bowls of raw greens with a slab of indeterminate protein and some kind of nut sprinkled on top. The atellans really needed to learn about salad dressing.

  The meal was filling though, and he hadn’t had any adverse reactions, so he couldn’t complain. Atellans seemed to consider flavor to be a secondary consideration to nutrition when it came to food.

  Ajaya and Schlewan were pretty much inseparable these days, which was great, because the old dame watched over them and made sure they got things they needed—like meals. She asked a lot of questions about human life and Earth, which no one else was doing. She seemed to be studying them, which Alan thought was far more normal than the blank stares of the rest of the community. Also, Schlewan never grabbed for his privates, which Alan considered to be a huge plus in her favor.

  His face had burned a little while he was down in that valley, and though the atellans had no personal experience with sunburns, Schlewan had noted the problem, asked a bunch of questions about his skin, and provided a soothing ointment to put on it. It was greasy and it stank of weird herbs, but it helped a little.

  The room was at a dull roar, accompanied by the sound of rain drumming against the large windows. Typical meal. All the atellans were chatting about God only knew what. He had a far better grasp on the language now, but they still spoke too fast for him to really feel like a participant. He only interacted when it was clear he was being spoken to. The first thing he always said was, “Please speak slower.”

  That meant they treated him like an idiot, but he didn’t give a shit. Apparently most people in the galaxy gained access to the genetically imprinted language of Mensententia when they reached puberty. Anyone who couldn’t fluently speak that language by adulthood was considered developmentally impaired in some way. Humans were the only exception the atellans had ever heard of. That didn’t jive with their legends of humans as saviors of the universe. It was probably the reason no one was interested in them aside from Schlewan.

  Whatever. He didn’t pay any attention to their crazy folklore.

  He did notice, however, when a shout rang out over the murmuring din—and when throngs of people stood and went over to the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  He looked to Schlewan. She gestured to the windows and said, “Qua’dux Jane Holloway returns.”

  Alan leapt up and pushed his way through the crowd until he was pressed up against the glass. She’d been gone for days without word, which wasn’t like her at all. The Squid had been strangely quiet throughout that time, which would normally have been welcome, but now was just another level of annoying. He was probably up there in the ship, focused so completely on Jane that he’d forgotten the rest of them existed. It was pretty creepy actually. Whatever was going on between those two couldn’t be healthy.

  It was raining hard, which made visibility poor. The carriage rolled up to the compound and he briefly glimpsed Jane’s blonde hair through the window of the carriage. None of the atellans had hair like that. He was sure it was her. The carriage stopped twenty feet from the building.

  He looked up. A team of six suesupus lagged some distance behind, pulling another shuttle through deep ruts in the mud. He broke into a huge grin. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, and pushed his way back through the people, heading for the ramp that would take him down to see her.

  When he got to the bottom, three people barred him from going farther. He was tempted to break through but didn’t want to create any more ill will than he already had with the suesupus fiasco. Jane wasn’t going to be pleased when she heard about that. No one had been injured, but the atellans were all butt hurt over it.

  He was glad that none of his buds back on Earth could see him being held back by a man and woman no taller than four foot seven inches—even though they were easily as bulky as Hans and Franz. The third person was a man, a toothpick really, but at least six foot nine. Alan strained on tiptoes, trying to see what the hell was going on.

  Pledor brushed past him. The trio of guards parted to let the Gis’dux through, but when Alan tried to follow him, they pushed him back.

  Pledor strode outside to stand under the overhang, preening like a bird. Alan could hear a lot of talking and the snorting and blowing of the domestic suesupus, but he couldn’t tell what was going on.

  Ajaya and Ron came down the ramp and spoke to the guards who were keeping him from joining Jane, but the guards remained impassive. No human was going to get by them.

  Someone came in from outside and signaled to the guards. The guards pushed the three of them up the ramp without explanation until they were back in the cafeteria, where they couldn’t hear or see anything.

  Alan cursed like a sailor, for all the good it did him.

  27

  Jane stepped down from the carriage and was instantly soaked. The rain fell in large, cold drops, at times pelting her sideways d
uring heavy gusts of wind. The atellan driving the suesupus had called into the carriage to say that Gis’dux Sten had ordered that they would not be allowed inside.

  Pledor was aggravated about something, but Jane had no idea what. To have Jane face him alone was Jaross’s idea, and Ryliuk concurred that it was the best plan. Pledor stepped out from under the overhang of the compound into the driving rain.

  Jane lifted her arm in the arc of greeting and was about to vocalize it, but before she could say anything, Pledor sputtered, “What is this, Qua’dux Holloway? Why do you abuse my hospitality thus?”

  Jane took a deep breath to steady herself against Sten’s bluster and took in the situation. “If I’ve given offense, I apologize, Gis’dux Sten. Please, edify me—I’m a foreign traveler unaware of the intricacies of your culture.”

  “When you said you would go to the Hator compound, you said nothing of bringing guests back. It is the height of rudeness to foist more mouths to feed upon our beleaguered compound. Isn’t it enough that we have been feeding your people out of simple kindness to vagabonds? You take advantage! And now you bring her and expect me to feed her? Outrageous.”

  Jane smiled tightly. “I’m sorry, but you’ve misunderstood, Gis’dux Sten. My return brings an end to our imposition. I’ve come to retrieve my friends and our shuttle. We’ll be gone from here as soon as possible.”

  Sten’s face flushed red, but Jane wasn’t sure if that meant the same thing to a sectilian as it did to a human.

  Tinor slipped past Jane and into the dry enclave. Jane wished she could follow the child. The ceremonial garment she wore was made of plant fibers. It was soaked through and cold against her skin.

  Ryliuk sent a tingle to the fringe of her thoughts. She let him in. He said, “Do be careful. I don’t believe Gis’dux Sten is being forthright. However, you must avoid saying as much, because that will likely anger him further.”