by Weston Ochse
The Boxer knelt between Kavika’s legs, pressing his knee painfully into his crotch. His other foot rested beside Kavika’s hip. As the Boxer leaned over Kavika, his plait draped along the left side of Kavika’s face.
“Fang,” the Boxer said softly.
“What?”
“I am Fang.”
“What? Fang?”
“Yes. I want you to know me.” His English was fluid, with only a hint of Chinese. “I want you to know who it is that blood raped you.”
The words sunk in like a stake through Kavika’s heart. He surged against the restraining hands. He tried to kick out, but felt someone sit on his knees.
The Boxer pressed harder with his knee. He turned his face as if he were staring at a strange little bug.
“Who do you think you are to come to my home?”
Another face moved into view above the Boxer’s shoulder. This one had a rounder face and was hairless. He wore glasses. His short black hair was combed back. He held out a mechanism for Fang.
When he spoke, it was Japanese. Kavika realized he was seeing a Corper.
All he could see of the man was the upper part of his torso. He wore a dark suit with a white shirt and tie, and showed no emotion. Once he’d handed the device to Fang, he backed out of Kavika’s vision and was gone.
Then Kavika’s attention switched to the device.
Made of metal and elastic, the only thing he could focus on were the nine needles protruding from its center.
Kavika felt a scream coming from a million miles away. It rushed to him at light speed as the device descended. And only when his chest was pierced did it burst free, a scream of agony and anguish that came from a place in his soul that would never be the same again. Another scream came, but this one was from somewhere else and peeled away as his voice cracked, then silenced.
The last thing he saw was Fang’s grin, wide behind the Fu Manchu.
The last thing he heard was a chuckle.
Then... nothing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“THEY TOSSED HIM into the lagoon.”
“Water Dogs brought him.”
“He’s going to be okay.”
“Why won’t they let him in the sky?”
“Nothing many other people haven’t experienced before.”
“No sign of Leilani.”
“Why’d he go on the ship?”
The voices came and went, and eventually Kavika regained consciousness. The first thing he noticed was the punctures in his chest. He’d stepped on a nail once and the metal had gone all the way through his foot; this was how his chest felt, but he had nine wounds instead of one. His hand went to the space but found nothing there, except a bandage.
Blood rape.
He’d hoped it had been a dream.
He cracked open his eyes and returned to the miserable universe he called home. He was lying on his side. His sister lay next to him, her sightless eyes staring at him. She lifted a trembling hand and touched his face.
“Brother.” Her voice was soft and weak. “What have they done?”
The cloying smell of oil from the bottom of the hold wrapped around him like cheesecloth. “They got me, Nani.” His voice was old sandpaper.
“You were crying in your sleep.”
He tried to smile. “I’m too big to cry.”
“You’re never too big to cry. Sometimes I hear momma crying.”
Kavika let the words sink in. The thought drew him deeper into the miasma.
“They took my blood,” he said after awhile.
“It’s not so bad. They’re doing it for me, right?”
Kavika pressed his hand against her hair. “That’s what keeps me going, Nani. That all this means something.”
He shook his head and sat up. It was harder to accomplish than he’d anticipated; the paralytic they’d shot into him still had its sticky fingers wrapped around his spine and legs. He peeled the bandage away from his chest to see the thick central puncture, surrounded by eight smaller wounds.
“Old Wu brought you in last night.”
Kavika looked up. His mother had been sitting there the entire time.
He met her gaze and saw in it everything he needed and so much more that he didn’t. All her words about his father and about being a Pali and not taking care of the family slid beneath his love like a riptide.
“How long was I out?”
“Not too long. Maybe ten hours.”
“Where’s Spike?”
“No sign of Leilani.”
He sat up straighter. No sign? “Are you sure?”
Her mother shook her head and poured him some water. He clambered painfully out of bed, took it and drank deeply. He saw that he was naked, rifled through his bag of clothes, and pulled out a clean set of shorts. He leaned over and kissed his sister on the forehead.
“Keep Mom in line, Nani.”
His sister smiled.
He stood and gave his mother a nod. She nodded in return.
Then he was hurrying up the levels. His legs plodded against the deck, but the more he was able to work them, the easier walking became; by the time he reached the open air, his muscles felt like they were back to normal.
The first thing he did was lean back and inhale a lungful of fresh air to dispel the stench of the hold. He couldn’t live there, no matter what happened. He was meant for the open air. For the sky.
A handful of the Pali Boys stared down at him from the heights as he emerged, and a call went out. Kavika wanted nothing more than to join them, but he still wore the bruises from his last attempt.
Kaja swung free and dropped to the deck beside him.
“How you doing, Brah?” he asked, eyeing the bandage.
Kavika couldn’t help but touch the place where they’d taken his blood. “Fine, Kaja.”
“We followed the action last night.”
“We almost had them.”
“Yeah. So... what was it like?”
Kavika turned and stared at Kaja, and a truth hit him so hard it startled him. Staring at Kaja’s open and interested face, Kavika realized that he’d done something that no other Pali Boy had done. He’d gone into the Freedom Ship and returned. That was it, wasn’t it? Kaja wanted to know what the inside of the Freedom Ship was like. Kavika glanced at the Pali Boys hanging out above him. Their number had tripled.
“It was different.”
“Yeah? Different how?” Kaja, the leader of the Pali Boys who refused to let Kavika return to the sky, leaned in, eager to hear the rest.
“Just different, is all,” said Kavika. Then he turned and headed away.
“Wait!”
The Pali Boys in the sky laughed at the exchange.
“Fucking wannabe Pali. You ain’t ever gonna see the sky again.”
As good as walking away from Kaja felt, the idea of never returning to the sky was something terrible. His smile wilted and slid into the hole in his chest.
Alone, he worked his way to the Morgue Ship, confident that the dead would give him less trouble than the living.
When he got there, the place was empty. Even the slabs were free of bodies. No one, living or dead. He was about to leave when the door was yanked open.
Chito, Spike’s brother, stood in the doorway. “Where the hell is she?” he demanded. Water dripped from his sharkskin suit.
Kavika shook his head. “I thought she’d be here.”
“Here?” He took several strides into the room. The door slammed shut behind him. “How can she be here? Do you see her anywhere?”
Kavika held out his hands. “Whoa, I want to find her as bad as you do.”
“Then why’d you leave her on the ship?”
“What are you talking about?”
“We had it surrounded. When they took you up again it was only you who came out. We’ve been circling it ever since.”
“How’d I get out?”
“They dumped you in the lagoon. We took you home.”
“And she never came out?”
>
“Never.” Chito stepped close to Kavika. He poked him above where he’d been blood raped, making him wince. “If anything happens to her...” He let the words die, but he didn’t have to finish.
Kavika could only imagine what her brother would do to him. But no matter what that was, it wouldn’t be worse than the loss of his only friend.
Now to figure out how to get back into the place...
DADDY, WHY CAN’T we go on the big ship?
They don’t want us there.
Then how come we keep sending things to them?
They give us help sometimes. They give us energy.
But why can’t we go there? I bet when it storms, they stay dry.
I bet they do. Anyway, we’re not invited.
You and Uncle Donnie could make them.
Might as well tilt at windmills, son. Might as well fight the wind.
AN HOUR LATER found Kavika no closer to a solution. The immensity of his problem had begun to sink in. He’d managed to circle the Freedom Ship once, which wasn’t easy to do. Some of the ships on the lagoon required chits for transit. Rather than pay, which no self respecting Pali Boy—even the grounded kind—would ever do, Kavika found ways that took him far from the direct path.
His father’s words came back to him. “Might as well fight the wind.” Sure, he could go back into the sky. Sure, he might even be able to defend himself. But he’d never really belong. Not as long as Kaja had grounded him. And it was the belonging that really made him a Pali Boy. Just as Spike being his friend gave him a certain sense of belonging. Sure, it wasn’t a large group of high-flying stunt warriors, but his and Spike’s group was a very exclusive crowd, one in which another person opened her heart and soul to him.
And he’d fucking left her behind.
If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.
He watched two children, a boy and a girl who couldn’t be more then ten years old, dangle a line over the side of their ship. They whispered to themselves for a moment, then jerked the line as it went taught. The girl who held the line struggled for a moment, then it came easily. As she stood, a Water Dog surfaced, holding the other end of her line. He waggled a finger. The kids shrieked and ran away, laughing.
The Water Dog, caught in the middle of a grin, turned to Kavika and his grin turned into a frown. He shook his finger again, a very different sentiment from that he’d given the kids. Then he sank back into the water.
Kavika had talked to Spike about Don Quixote one day, before she’d decided to live life as a woman. She’d loved the idea when she’d learned it during her lessons. That there’d been a man, fictional or otherwise, who’d daftly gone in the face of convention, regardless of what anyone had ever told him, caused her no end of appreciation.
Kavika had always thought of himself as smart, but the importance of Don Quixote was an idea that stretched his logic. He’d learned of the man from his father, and had then asked his Uncle to explain it to him. Don Quixote seemed more crazy than not and he’d told Spike that.
But she’d merely laughed. “You have everything, Kavika. You’re Pali Boy. You own the sky.”
“But I don’t have my father.”
“Is that something you can fight for?”
“No. He’s dead.”
“When I said you have everything, I meant that you don’t have to fight for anything, so of course you don’t understand Don Quixote.”
“And you do?”
“Of course.”
“And what do you have to fight for?”
“Myself. Or who I could be.”
“You have to fight for that?”
Then he remembered how she’d told him that she really wanted to be a woman, and that from that day forward she’d be one, regardless of what anyone said. Their expectations would be the windmills at which she would tilt.
Don Quixote.
He was more an idea than a man. His father had talked about it. Spike had lived it. For one brief moment yesterday they’d both grabbed their lances and tilted at the great windmill of the Freedom Ship. And they’d almost won.
Except, Kavika realized in an electric moment of clarity, that you can never beat an idea, but only hold it at bay for a time.
“There you are. What are you doing in this place?”
“This place?” Kavika turned to see Donnie Wu slide down a rope, land on a wheel house, and lower himself to the deck. He turned and looked around; he’d somehow made it to the leper ship. In the lee of a crate sat a man with lesions on his face and twisted fingers on his ruined hands. They locked eyes for a moment, then nodded to each other. Windmills.
“I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Why?”
“I heard from one of my sources that they have her.” He let the words sink in. There was no question who they were, or who he meant by her. “They’re going to release her soon.”
“What are we waiting for?”
“They want to release her to you and you alone.”
Kavika took a step forward. “Where, Uncle?”
Wu shook his head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem right.”
“Fuck right! We’ll make it right when it’s all over.” He didn’t have the sky. He didn’t have the water. And he was alone on the decks. Damn, but he needed this.
Finally Wu gave a sad nod. “Okay, I’ll tell you. But I’m going to be with you, just in case.”
Kavika craned his neck skyward. Not a Pali Boy in sight.
“What about the others? I might not be a Pali Boy, but this is Hawaiian business. Are they coming with?”
Wu shook his head. “They’re helping Ivanov set up new bird nets.”
Kavika had arranged his share of nets in his time. Not only were they heavy, but wind—any wind—made stringing and lashing them difficult and dangerous. It would take all of the Pali Boys. He’d get no help from them. He hoped he wouldn’t need it.
“So what’s the plan?”
“Abe Lincoln proctored the deal. Said he felt bad about what happened. We’re going to the ships belonging to People of the Sun. Mr. Pak is to be the go-between.”
Kavika let the plan settle in his mind for a moment then asked, “What do you think they did to her, Uncle?”
“There’s no telling. Let’s hope they just roughed her up.”
“Do you have any weapons for us?”
Wu tapped his forehead with a long finger. “Just these.”
They headed past the wheelhouse and crossed several ships until they were oceanside. The sea outside of the floating city seemed to go on forever. Kavika intellectually understood that there was land somewhere across the water, but since he’d never seen it outside of a vid, or stepped on it himself, the concept was nothing more than someone else’s memory. All he knew were the constantly shifting decks, or hanging from antenna masts, or clinging to nets.
Wu nodded to a handful of older men who were fishing oceanside. Since the Water Dogs owned the water in the city, it was the only way a person could legally fish. And the fishing was rarely good. Most of them blamed the Water Dogs, convinced that they were somewhere beneath the waves somehow sabotaging the fishing. But occasionally, someone would latch onto something immense. Giant Squid as long as a yacht weren’t uncommon during those times. Kavika had once seen a Great White Shark caught here. He’d also seen a fisherman latch onto a humpback whale. The whale couldn’t get away, but it began to pull the ship away from its moorings to the other ships. Even Water Dogs had reported strain on the anchor cable. In the end, the fishermen had to cut the line and let it go.
Kavika and Donnie Wu were forced to stop their progress when they reached a silver and black barge. The guards demanded a three chit toll. It was an unaffiliated ship; the mishmash of hungry-looking Chinese, Koreans, Filipinos and other Asians told of a melting pot of need and want. The ship itself was spotless, but the people were hungry. Even so, having no affiliation, they had no right to demand a toll, especially one as exorbit
ant as three chits.
Kavika was about to remark on it when he felt Donnie’s elbow in his side. He watched as his Uncle passed the chits to the guard. Then, as they boarded the ship and began to transit the deck, his uncle leaned over and whispered in Kavika’s ear. “Too many ears here. I’ll explain later.”
Kavika spied an older Hawaiian woman scrubbing the deck with a platoon of other women. They were on their knees, using buckets and sponges. Glancing at the rigging, he could see that he’d been here before, but he had been too high above to notice these details. In fact, until he’d been beaten down, he’d failed to notice pretty much anything at this level.
“But she’s one of us.”
“No family. She’s working here.”
His Uncle’s response made no sense. The way the community worked was that one didn’t have to work to be fed, clothed and housed. Sure it was expected, but the older you were, the less work was required. A woman of her age should never be scrubbing decks. That was left for people like Kavika. It was as if she were a... Kavika glanced around and saw the men lounging on the deck. They all had weapons of various kinds: clubs, mostly, but there was the occasional machete, the edge gleaming at their hips.
“Slavers?” he whispered.
“Shhhh.” Wu shot him a look. “Not like what you think. This is different. Now hush until we get past.”
Kavika noticed one of the men stand straight and angle towards them.
Wu began to hurry, and they were soon walking a plank to another ship. This one was an old garbage scow.
“Do you want to tell me what that was about?”
“Not particularly, and not now. Keep your head in the game, Kavika. Concentrate on what we’re doing.”
Kavika wanted to know what was going on and why one of their own had been sold to a slaver. The very thought of it contradicted everything he knew about his people. That this was going on raised the question of what else was going on that he didn’t know about. Part of him desperately wanted to know, but he also recognized the importance of keeping his head clear. He made a mental note, however, to bring the subject up again.
He took inventory of his body. Overall and despite the recent beating and the blood rape, he was in pretty good shape, a testament to the lifestyle of a Pali Boy. He flexed his hands as he walked. The blood rape had bruised the muscles over his chest, which affected everything connected to them, especially the tendons in his shoulder area. But he found that the more he flexed his hands, the better the muscles felt.
