by Astrid Amara
Tover nodded, feeling stunned and scared and disappointed, all at once. Freedom was right over that marshy plain, close enough to touch.
“Is there something I can do, to help you navigate?” Cruz asked.
Tover’s hand reached toward his throat. “No.”
“What if we fed you a lot, made you big and fat before you jumped?” Cruz had a small smile on his face.
“Fattening me up isn’t the issue.”
“They hurt you. When they made you jump.” Cruz stated it, not a question.
Nausea welled through Tover. He nodded.
To Tover’s surprise, Cruz threw his arm around Tover’s shoulder and gave him an awkward hug. “I know you’ll get over it. You’re one of the cockiest men I’ve ever met. As soon as you remember how amazing you are, you’ll forget about those fuckers on Jarrow and recall all the great things you have done.”
Tover stared at his boots, feeling choked with emotion.
Cruz pulled his arm free, but not before giving Tover’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. His touch burned through Tover, reigniting his traitorous burn of arousal.
Cruz stepped from the vehicle. “Come on, let’s go for that walk,” he said. “Up ahead a hundred meters or so is a beautiful valley. Let’s look.” He pulled on his sunglasses and started walking toward the rocks.
Behind him, Tover saw the glistening dome of the Harmony base. He wanted to tell Cruz that he didn’t need a peaceful place to return his self-confidence and abilities. He only needed to be safe.
But as Tover turned away from the Harmony Base, safety once again slipped out of reach.
Tover followed Cruz through knee-high marsh grasses into a large area populated with palms and flowering joy perfume trees. The air smelled incredibly sweet and fragrant, so strong it overpowered any sourness to the air.
It felt good to walk a difficult trail and to work his muscles harder. He eavesdropped as Cruz called home to check in and make sure Feo remained preoccupied.
The land tilted downward and looked as though it dropped off a steep precipice into a valley of rolling hills, each covered in a dense mat of trees and vines. Beneath Tover’s feet, he felt movement and glanced down in time to see a small, aquatic frog leap up and out of the way.
As they approached the edge, a sound like a vessel landing filled Tover’s ears and the sky darkened. He glanced up, surprised he hadn’t been able to sense the presence of a ship.
Instead, he saw all light blotted out by an extraordinary flock of birds. There were thousands upon thousands of them, flying not so much in formation as in a massive cloud, screeching at each other with such harmony it formed a single noise, wavering but consistent in pitch.
Tover stared, stunned. He’d never imagined so many wild birds in one place at one time. They darkened the sky from horizon to horizon. Minutes passed and light remained blackened by their fast-flapping, massive red bodies. They were not sleek but rather bulbous, heavy in the air, and they soared with bursts of strong, rhythmic wing beats followed with a long, level glide toward the rocky valley before them.
Tover could not make out any distinction of the birds, as high as they were, but he could determine they were large, and every one of them a brilliant scarlet color that burst against the green sky like shining jewels.
The birds en masse plunged down into the ravine ahead of Tover and Cruz with a raucous screech. Cruz, who had spent the entire incredible incident reading something on his wrist pad, switched off his call and fumbled in his back pocket for a water packet.
“What…” Tover was breathless. “What was that?”
Cruz glanced up at the sky, squinting, as if he hadn’t even noticed. “Those birds?”
“Yeah, those birds!”
“A flock of ruby hornbills.”
Tover stared at the trailing end of the flock, amazed. He’d never even heard of a species flocking together in the thousands.
Tover stared until Cruz snorted beside him. He looked at Cruz. “What?”
“That’s the first time you’ve smiled in over a month.” Cruz smiled back. “You used to smile all the time.”
Tover realized he was smiling, grinning madly in fact. “It’s the first thing worth smiling about. They’re absolutely beautiful.” Tover climbed to the ledge to follow their line of flight. He spotted bright flashes of red plumage on the nearby rocks. Bundles of blue-green algae-like material seemed to spill from beneath their dark feet, and Tover suspected this was their nesting grounds. He started toward them.
“Whoa.” Cruz grabbed Tover’s shoulder. “Be careful. The ground is uneven and it’s a long fall to the bottom.”
Tover reached for an outcropping covered in moss to balance himself, then pulled himself over the ledge.
“You sure your knees are up to this?” Cruz asked, following Tover down the ledge.
“Do they live all over Carida or only here?” Tover asked.
Cruz frowned. “I’m not sure. I think they’re found throughout the north but they seem to gather mostly in this valley.”
“What do they eat?” Tover’s foot slid on loose rock and Cruz reached out to steady him, although Tover’s hold on the ledge was secure enough without the support. “I’m fine,” he said.
Cruz shook his head. “If you fall I’m going to be upset.”
“Too bad,” Tover complained. “I want to get closer.” Cruz didn’t stop Tover as he carefully made his way down the cliff. It wasn’t a straight drop as he had initially assumed. The ground sloped at an angle and he could descend with care.
Toward the bottom of the valley, Tover found hundreds of nests. Although they were predominantly on rocky outcroppings, several birds had theirs on the sloping ground, which suggested to Tover that they had few natural predators.
The birds watched as he approached but didn’t take flight, so he moved slowly and sat down on a nearby rock, going very still. He paused a few feet from the nearest nest. He could see the birds up close now, and they were tremendous. They clearly got their name from their ridiculous beaks. Long and curved down at the peak, the beaks were a shocking pink in color. A knobby, yellowish protrusion between the eyes took up almost the same length as the beak. The birds’ feathers were bright, ruby red.
Tover’s presence caused a few cautious glances, but the nesting birds grew accustomed to him after a time and settled down over their blue-green nests of algae.
There were two birds per nest, both perched over an individual egg, the color of which perfectly blended with the blue-green algae. They called to each other in trilling coos, and in the distance, Tover saw more of the massive flock, calling out and circling and resettling themselves throughout the large valley.
It was a birder’s paradise, and Tover remained entranced, losing track of time. He watched the pairs closely and marveled that such heavy, unwieldy bodies could take flight with such limited take-off space. As light began to fade behind the steep ledges, more birds departed their nests and circled out of the valley to fly low over the surrounding marshlands, as if searching for food.
Tover stayed.
After the final bird in his vicinity left her nest, Tover stretched up his arms and looked into the hazy sky. The light was almost gone, they’d been there for some time. Tover glanced around, feeling slightly guilty. Cruz must have been bored out of his mind.
Bitterness crept into his thoughts. Who cares if he’s bored? I was fucking tortured.
Still, Tover looked for him, climbing carefully. His legs shook with exhaustion and his knees ached from sitting still for so long.
He climbed halfway up the hill but couldn’t see Cruz, and a hint of fear shivered through him. What if he had been abandoned again?
But as he rounded a large, moss-coated rock, he spotted Cruz, feet dangling over a precarious ledge, talking in Spanish with someone on his wristpad, thoughtlessly toss
ing pebbles and loose bits of moss over the ledge.
He looked more relaxed than Tover had ever seen him. This was the real Cruz Arcadio, the one he had never known. This wasn’t the spy breathing poisonous air and trying to blend in at Harmony corporate parties or the hardened, stony-faced soldier on Jarrow. This was a man at home in the lush, toxic wild, dark, loose pants and a light shirt, hair blowing in the constant breeze of the planet’s surface.
Tover cleared his throat and Cruz spun to face him. Cruz’s mouth curled into an angelic smile, lighting his face.
“I’ll see you later,” Cruz said into his wristpad. He stroked it to cancel the call.
“Boyfriend?” Tover asked, unable to hide his resentment.
Cruz stood and wiped loose algae from his trousers. “Mother. She wants to know when we’re coming home.”
“How late is it?” Tover glanced at the sky but still couldn’t tell the passage of time based on the thick light. The world itself seemed shrouded in gauze.
Cruz glanced at his wristpad. “We’ve been gone five hours. Feo called an hour ago to make sure you hadn’t killed me, but didn’t seem concerned enough to summon us back.”
“Five hours?” Tover knew they’d been out a while but had no idea he’d been in such a bird-trance for so long. “Sorry. I guess I got carried away.”
“I don’t care.” Cruz put his hand on the base of Tover’s back and helped him over some rough rocks as they climbed out of the valley. “It’s nice to see you happy.”
“I’d like to come back, if I can,” Tover asked. “I want to bring a wristpad or recorder so I can document some of what I’m seeing.”
“Sure. Document all you like. They’ll all be dead in thirteen months, so you better get it while you can.”
Tover’s stomach dropped. “What did you say?”
Cruz shrugged. “Humans aren’t going to be the only victims of the terraforming.” He frowned. “What did you think would happen to all the wildlife on this planet? Ruby hornbills breathe carbon dioxide like I do. Everything that is living on this planet now is going to die.”
“But…but they can’t do that!” Tover gasped, horrified. “There’s got to be laws protecting them. They’re a wild species!”
“Harmony owns this planet.” There was no denying the bitterness in his voice. “In their accounting system, that means they also own everything on this rock. The natural refuge they plan to build in the reservation is nothing more than a novelty. Those nesting birds will never see their young fly.”
A deep sadness rocked through Tover. He couldn’t believe the cruelty of it. That massive flock of birds had been the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, in thirty years of traveling the galaxy, and he would do anything he could to save them, not let this incredible natural habitat be taken away.
“What can I do about it?” Tover asked.
Cruz narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I have a position of power. More power than anyone on DK Station. I have a ton of money. I can buy them a sanctuary.”
Cruz actually gaped. “You think… Wait a minute. You think Harmony gives a fuck about saving some birds?” Cruz looked like he’d laugh, but his expression softened. “Tover. I’ve been trying to tell you something, and you clearly aren’t listening. This company is about making money. They don’t care that a million Caridans might die in the pursuit of this money. They definitely don’t care if a million birds have their habitat taken away. And even if you spent all your shares, what do you think you can do for them? Ruby hornbills eat airborne Caridan insectae that can be found exclusively at dusk over the marshes. They only build their nests on rocky outcroppings. They breathe carbon dioxide and their nests are constructed from the algae that is found only here in Western Serica. There is no sanctuary you can build that will equal their natural terrain. I’ve seen people try to raise rubies in cages, and they die. They always die. Their survival is completely dependent on this planet.”
Tover knew he was right. But he couldn’t accept it. “Well, we have to try something!”
“I have,” Cruz said after a minute, frowning. “At great personal cost to you, I’d like to point out.”
Tover turned away, sick to his stomach. He told himself he’d never be able to justify what Cruz had done to him. But for a moment, sympathy coursed through him. Cruz was trying to save these birds.
No, he wasn’t, Tover reminded himself. Cruz was trying to save himself. Tover didn’t give a fuck about the Caridan people. But those birds…
And Ana, he realized. And Lourdes. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to either of them. Maybe it was simply an aftereffect of coming into Lourdes’s care after such brutality on The Baroque, but Tover adored her. No one had ever treated him so kindly, in all his life. She had a motive—her son had hurt him—but she could have simply treated his wounds and left him to go back to the Pulmon Verde.
But Lourdes and Ana didn’t have to cook Tover’s favorite meals. They didn’t have to learn Arlandian Parcheesi to entertain him. They didn’t have to put up with Tover’s constant complaints or put washcloths on his hot forehead or even hit him on the back and tell him to act like a man. They did all these things because they acted like they loved him.
Tover felt choked up again. Cruz’s expression was sympathetic. He reached down and gently held Tover’s arm. “Come on,” he said. “It’s going to get dark and we need to get out of the valley before then.”
Tover swallowed back his grief and followed Cruz up to the ledge. “Why?” he asked, voice rougher than normal. “Are there killer animals that come out at night?”
Cruz snorted. “No. But the chances of getting your ankle twisted in a moss-covered crack in the rocks are pretty much one hundred percent once the light is gone. Believe me, climbing out of this gulley with a sprained ankle is no picnic. I’ve done it twice.”
“You have?”
Cruz nodded. Tover realized Cruz still held Tover’s arm lightly, reassuringly. Tover thought he should shake it off, but he didn’t have the heart at the moment.
“There’s an incredible flower that blooms in the summer at the base of Roja Valley,” Cruz said. “My mother loves them. Twice I ended up trying to climb back up in darkness, and twice I fucked myself up.” Cruz grinned down at him. “My mother was torn between wanting to hit me for being so careless and wanting to hug me for getting her the flower in the first place.”
Tover laughed. He could see Lourdes doing both.
Cruz smiled back, and delight seemed to color his features. Even with his black eye, he looked roguishly handsome. Tover imagined kissing him.
But then he did nearly trip and twist his ankle on a rock, so instead he told his libido to take a fucking break and focused instead on getting out of the valley in one piece.
Chapter Eleven
In the morning, Cruz joined his family and Tover for breakfast for the first time since Tover had arrived.
Tover still felt apprehensive having him nearby, but it was getting hard to remember that he’d wanted to kill the man a month ago. It wasn’t that he forgot his torment; he relived his ordeal on the Jarrow ship nightly in his dreams, and he couldn’t create an orbifold strong enough to take him anywhere.
But Cruz’s role in his torment had shifted. And although Tover was technically Cruz’s prisoner, it felt different.
More and more of the guards “imprisoning” Tover were friendly with him. He discovered that the soldier Lalo knew how to play Arlandian Parcheesi very well, and the two had spent several hours outside, board set up on the wooden step of the Arcadio house, drinking weak beer and competing viciously for the greatest number of wins. Tover managed to beat Lalo more times than not, but the soldier was a fast learner, and improving.
Cruz had no interest in playing, but he often watched, although he seemed more focused on Tover than on the game board. And even thou
gh Tover forced himself to recall what Cruz had done to him, it was hard to hate a man whose company Tover had once adored. Even now, while trying to keep his distance, Tover still felt Cruz’s presence like a magnet pulling him closer.
One evening, when Ana was out with friends and Lourdes was at her clinic, Tover decided to pull up one of the endless numbers of pirate films on the holoscreen in Lourdes’s office to watch.
Lourdes’s office was in the center of the house, with one door leading off to a guest room and another to a full bathroom for her patients. The office was a large open space and immaculately clean. He stayed away from the bone knitter and the surgical table, making his way to the corner, where Lourdes had a small couch and coffee table, with a holoscreen available.
Cruz joined him only seconds after the film started.
“I’d recognize that opening credit song anywhere,” Cruz mused. He hovered beside Tover, not sitting, but looking at the screen. “The Butchers of Alpha 9, right?”
Tover nodded. “A favorite, I take it?”
“You’ll see why in about thirty seconds.”
Tover watched, body alert to Cruz’s presence, unable to relax with all that heat and muscle close enough to touch.
The opening credits ended and the hero of the film appeared. It was Daniel Zenz, a famous actor of his generation who was inordinately handsome. As he swung precariously through the ropes of an ancient mariner vessel, flexing his biceps with each move, Tover laughed.
“Dan Zenz, really? His films are terrible. And he’s good looking but he’s not that great,” he commented.
Cruz sat beside Tover warily, as if worried Tover would hit him. “Maybe he’s more my type than yours.”
Tover looked over Zenz’s body, and was struck with the realization that the actor looked a lot like Tover. Blond hair, cut wild and slightly curled, bright blue eyes, lithe muscles.
At least, that’s what Tover used to look like, before he’d been smashed up and tossed aside. His hand crept to the scar on his throat, he felt the ugly ridge of hard tissue.
