by Patty Jansen
Soft light lit Ikay’s face from below.
Both their arms glowed with a blue aura.
“Holy shit.” She lost concentration.
Again, total darkness enveloped them.
“Wait,” Jessica whispered, flushed with excitement and purpose. “I’ll do it again.”
That, however, was not necessary. A moment later, the passage once more lit up with the steady glow of Ikay’s light.
Ikay said a single word, “Ikim.”
Jessica was sure it meant “thanks.”
Ikay’s eyes met hers and her wrinkled face creased into a smile. Just like a teacher would smile at a bright pupil.
Arms clasped around each other, they continued down to the water.
When Jessica and Ikay stumbled out of the cave, the waiting Amazons greeted them with anxious shouts. The boat already lay in the water. High above them, the patch of sky visible between the rock walls had turned orange; bushes up there glowed with early sunlight.
Jessica helped Ikay into the boat. Dora in the bow pushed off, back through the narrow entrance and into the marshlands.
A bluish haze hung over the marsh, merging water and sky at the horizon. Sunlight was no more than a pink tinge on the tops of the trees poking through the mist, their branches drooping and perfectly still.
No one said much. With relentless monotony, Dora moved the stick—up, down, up, down. Splash, splash, splash. Alla leaned over the side, knife poised over the water, tail held high and twitching for balance. Every now and then, she plunged her hand in and tossed a wriggling animal into the basket behind her. Jessica couldn’t see what she caught, and couldn’t get up to look, because Ikay had fallen asleep, using her knee as a cushion.
Jessica stroked the old female’s shoulder in mechanical movements, without really seeing anything.
Instead, she was six years old again and saw her father’s face as he had sat her down on the couch, and began his confession with the words, “I would have liked to have told you when you were a bit older . . .”
He showed the folder with newspaper clippings, of an abandoned baby girl and pleas for her parents to come forward. Pictures of a baby with piercing black eyes. There was a bandage on her right shin. A burn, doctors said, from which she still bore the scar. He showed her advertisements in magazines, and posters hung at supermarkets, police stations and hospitals.
He told her no one ever came, so he and her mother had applied to adopt her.
Then, she had told her father she didn’t care and at the time that was true. She remembered his bear-hug and how he had said he would always love her. But the unknown gnawed at her. She wanted to know where she came from—wasn’t that natural?
Her friends from world-wide chat groups for overseas adopted children confirmed her feelings. Those girls had one thing she didn’t: they knew they had come from China or Vietnam or Korea; that their parents had been too poor to look after them. Some even had little mementos: a grotty, hand-written birth certificate, a singlet they had worn, a grainy photograph taken by an adoption agency. The lucky ones knew their mother’s name. Jessica had nothing.
She had posted pictures of herself to the chat groups.
You look Eastern European, a boy had said, and she had spent days reading up on the Romany people, the gypsies.
How about South America? someone else had suggested.
Reading about both parts of the world had left her empty. Did you feel something when you found your ancestry?
Yes, because she felt it now. Everything she had seen in the cave was true. This was what she had been looking for all her life.
I’m not even human.
A tear ran down her nose.
Goddamnit, I’m an alien. A fucking alien.
She bit her lip in a desperate attempt to keep herself from crying, but resistance was futile.
Another tear trickled down her nose. Jessica freed her hand from under Ikay’s head to wipe it away, but it splatted on Ikay’s face before she could do so. Ikay stirred and opened her eyes, meeting Jessica’s with a look of concern. Her tail moved up to stroke Jessica’s knee. Jessica laid her hands on top of Ikay’s and Ikay curled her tail around them. Warmth flowed through the skin.
Ikay blew out a long breath and closed her eyes again. The first rays of sunlight touched her face.
A whoosh of air went over Jessica’s head; Dora’s tail cracked like a whip. Ikay shook her head and heaved herself up from Jessica’s lap.
Dora in the bow stood still, watching the river bank with the eyes of a bird of prey, every muscle tense, her tail quivering at waist-height.
Clearly, something was wrong.
The beach of the lagoon stretched before them, edging the rainforest with a silver margin. Boats lined up abandoned in neat rows, fishing nets folded over their bows. But another, larger boat lay at the water’s edge, reed baskets on its floor.
Dora and Alla jumped out of the canoe as soon as it bumped into the shore. In swift strides, they crossed the beach to the strange boat. Footsteps led from it into the forest. Large, deep and booted.
Alla shouted something; Maire replied.
Wondering what the heck was going on, Jessica followed Ikay and the others up the beach, along the rainforest path to the settlement. The structure of rough wood and branches—like a bee hive several storeys high—blended in perfectly with the forest. Some lights still burned in the large central hall, visible through the arched entryway. The sound of many voices drifted from this entrance. Cracks of whipping tails split the air. Above all that din called a male voice. “Jessica Moore, I’m looking for Jessica Moore.”
What?
Jessica ran inside, past the guards at the archway and into the crowd of onlookers that had gathered in the hall.
A group of Pengali carrying huge knives had assembled around a much taller figure: Brian. He struggled against the Pengali who tried to tie up his wrists. “Oh, fuck off. Can’t you see a man’s harmless?”
“Brian!”
“Oh, you are here after all, good—” His eyes widened. His white eyebrows rose.
Jessica’s cheeks grew hot. Damn, she was still completely naked.
She shrank back, crossed her arms over her body, stammering, “They . . . they took my clothes.” Speaking English, or even hearing the sound of her own voice was so strange, but so familiar and homely.
Now the Pengali let go of him, and he came out into the light. Yes, it was Brian, but he looked so different that she hardly recognised him.
He no longer wore the stained shirt, or the jeans. His hair was combed and neat. In the shaft of light falling through the roof, it looked like quicksilver. He wore a tight-fitting khaki shirt, fastened with hooks down the front; sturdy khaki trousers, held up by a broad belt with metal studs; and boots halfway up his calf, lined with dark mottled fur. Golden loops glittered in his earlobes. He looked like . . . she didn’t know, but whatever someone with the name “Brian” was supposed to look like, it wasn’t anything like this.
Without a word, he shook out the cloth the Pengali had been using to try and tie him up, muttering, “Honestly, what were these people thinking? Letting you run around naked. No dignity at all.”
He tossed the cloth to Jessica. “Get that around yourself. As interesting as those, um, body paintings are, you won’t be allowed in town like that.”
Face burning, Jessica whispered a barely audible “thank you.”
She proceeded to wrap the cloth around her body while the uneasy silence lingered.
“What happened to you when we—”
“When you ran off?”
“Excuse me? When I ran off? Those guys were after us—”
“Those guys were rescuers.”
“Rescuers? And how did you know that?”
He just looked at her.
“Come on, tell me. You seem to know an awful lot all of a sudden. I bet your name isn’t Brian. You’ve been lying to me.”
Tribespeople watched from all aro
und the hall; tails swishing, ready to spring. He looked uncomfortable, sad almost.
“I’m sorry, but I was lying for a reason.”
“And what is that reason?”
“I thought you’d appreciate some help getting home.”
“So you admit you know where we are.”
“Yes. I do. I honestly didn’t know when we were in the forest, but I know now.”
“Tell me.”
“Later.”
“No. Now.”
“Listen. I don’t want to sound like I’m pushing you, but we should be going. I’m lucky I got here. If you think this adventure is over, think again. We’ve landed in a tribal war. We really, really have to go. It’s . . .” He glanced up at the ceiling windows, “already mid-morning and we have to get into town by dark. You’ve seen the killers following you after you got to the beach. They’re hiding on the other side of the river.”
“We came past the river mouth twice today. No one was waiting for us there.”
“So it seems to you. They’re hiding. Waiting for their mates to arrive so they have enough force to come into the tribal lands. They don’t belong to this tribe. They’re outcasts who work for people in the city. And these people are nocturnal. They can’t see much in daylight, but once it gets dark, we’ve got no chance at all. We have a dangerous journey ahead of us. Let’s get out of here.”
“To the island city?”
“Yes. Come.”
He gestured and made to leave, but Ikay ran across the floor and threw herself into Jessica’s arms with a fierce blow that made her stagger back, while paper-skinned arms enveloped her in a hug and her characteristic minty smell.
“Anmi.”
“Oh, Ikay, don’t be silly, he’s not trying to attack me.”
But the voice of her subconscious said, Who is he? He still hasn’t said.
Another part of her rejoiced. No more sex orgies, no more stares from leering males. He might not have been truthful about his identity, but in three days with Brian alone, he hadn’t done any more than stare at her. And he did look different now. He knew what was going on. He knew how she could get back. With all the will in the world, and off it, she couldn’t see Pengali in command of a space craft.
She pushed herself out of Ikay’s hug. “I . . .” She pointed at her chest. “Go with him. He will help me now.”
Ikay waved her finger. “Poh-poh-poh-poh.”
Jessica pushed the finger down. “No, you don’t understand. He can help me. He understands what I want.”
Ikay waved her other finger and spoke a few unintelligible words.
Jessica turned. “Brian, do you speak their language?”
The way in which he gaped at her was probably answer enough. “How come you’re so friendly with them?”
She hesitated on the verge of telling him about the cave and the carvings, but didn’t. If he knew she had caused the accident, would he still be willing to help?
“They saved me. Without them, I would not be alive.”
She stroked Ikay’s arm, whispering, “Thank you.”
“Come on, let’s go,” Brian said. “We’ve got a long way to travel.”
Jessica hesitated. Well, that was a shitty choice. Stay with natives who knew something about you but whose language you couldn’t speak, and half of whom wanted to fuck you, or go with a stranger who knew stuff and who could get you home, but who had been holding back the truth?
Home won.
“Sorry Ikay.”
Ikay slowly lifted her hand. Her eyes, dark as the night, bore an expression of immense sadness. Her whisper carried through the silence. “Anmi.”
After one last look, Jessica followed Brian into the forest.
12
THE UNKNOWN BOAT on the beach, of course, was Brian’s.
A bundle of rags amongst the baskets moved, and revealed itself to be a Pengali youth. He climbed out of the boat and stood, holding the rope attached to the bow, wide eyes roving the opposite river bank. Eddies of water gurgled around his knees, tugging at the hems of his turquoise trouser legs. With his skin patterns covered under a thigh-length tunic, also turquoise, and his hair cut short, he looked almost human. And where was his tail?
Brian stepped in the boat and shoved some crates aside.
“You take this.”
He passed Jessica a small object, which felt cool in the palm of her hand. It looked, for all she could think, like one of those gadgets her father used to clean his telescope: a brush on a tube attached to a rubber balloon that hissed air when you squeezed it. Except this thing was made from silvery metal and had no brush.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a zapper. What do you do with it? Blast the living daylights out of anyone who follows us before they blast the living daylights out of us.” And at her horrified look, he added, “Sorry about this, I know, it’s no job for a lady, but we can’t take any chances.”
Holy shit—was this trip going to be that dangerous?
“How does it work?”
He beckoned and she held up the device.
“It’s easy. You point. Wait until they’re about thirty yards away. You press this button with your thumb. It shoots a narrow beam of energy. You won’t see the discharge until it hits something. Don’t get frightened by the flash and drop the weapon in the water. Give it to me after you’ve discharged. It only fires once and I’ll reload. The important bit is the distance. Don’t discharge too soon. They’re not powerful at a distance. But they’re the only weapon you can legally own.”
Jessica pulled her thumb away from the button, oval and also made of metal.
“Is this how the others were killed?”
“Most likely. They’re very effective at short range. Pengali messengers are stealth killers. They’d use knives and catapults before anything else. Proper charge guns are illegal anyway. They do a lot more damage. They flash blue.”
“But . . .” The flashes in the forest had been blue. Hadn’t he seen them? “Is this . . . the only weapon you have? What about if they come from the air?”
His eyebrows flicked up.
“We’ll be fine. Get in.”
Well, he’d said that before, and maybe she would have been fine if she hadn’t jumped off that cliff. But without any explanation, she had no way of knowing. It was all about trust and, right now, she wasn’t entirely sure if he deserved it.
Jessica clambered into the boat and wriggled sideways against a stack of baskets, pulling her knees against her chest. He might have given her a cloth to serve as dress, but she still had no underwear and couldn’t sit cross-legged.
As soon as Brian had settled himself, the turquoise-clad youth jumped into the bow and pushed off with his stick.
The expanse of slowly churning water between the boat and the shore grew. Behind the beach rose the rainforest like a wall of green. Ghosts of shadows moved between the trees, small figures blending with the forest.
A chill crept over Jessica’s back. The look on Ikay’s face still lingered in her mind. Her lips moved in a soundless whisper, Avya.
The secret of the link between them might forever remain a mystery.
Who were these tall alien refugees?
Her thoughts whirled in circles. Maybe she should have stayed. Maybe she could have found out who she was. Whoever these tall people were, they had never cared about her. Why should this discovery change it? She might want them, but they sure as hell didn’t want her or they wouldn’t have abandoned her.
The man Daya is looking for me.
Well, he’d had seventeen years to catch up with her.
What if he never knew where I was?
Just bloody shut up, right! A decision was a decision.
“How long is this trip going to take?”
Brian didn’t reply and motioned for her to be silent. He scanned both riverbanks, the forest and the tops of the escarpment, his face tense.
The boat drifted past the solar station. Beams of light i
ntersected the air like needles. Here on the river, they were too far away to feel its power.
Only when the boat had drifted well out of the river mouth did he speak.
“First, let me apologise for not being straight with you before. I’ve been rude to you.”
“So—where did you go when I went down the rock slide and where are we now? Who came for you? Who are you?”
“A lot of questions.”
“Yes. I think I have a right to know, because your name sure as hell isn’t Brian, and you’re not from New Zealand, either.”
He slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry about that, too, but you have to understand. According to the law we have to hide ourselves, so on the plane I was Brian, because I was on business and that’s how people know me.”
“You are saying that . . .” Heck—these alien people lived in Earth cities?
“We are required to have a local identity. I have a passport in the name of Brian O’Malley.”
“But your real name is. . . ?”
He dug in the pocket of his trousers and pulled something out that glittered in the sunlight.
“My name is Iztho Andrahar. Trader.”
He held out the glittering object—a medallion of some sort. There was a symbol on it, and writing she didn’t recognise. Some kind of proof for his statement probably, never mind that she had no idea what it meant.
It shook her. There was no denying that. To accept that she had somehow ended up on another world was one thing, but to suggest that there were people who regularly did this . . .
Her heart hammered.
“Can you say that name again?”
“Iztho.”
She repeated it a few times. Iztho, Iztho.
“You are from here?”
“No. If I was a local, I would have recognised immediately where we were. I would have spoken the local language. I would have known who those gun-happy rogues were.”
“Can you tell me where we are?”
“The city-enclave of Barresh, jurisdiction of Miran, colony of Ceren.”
