Wings of Creation

by Brenda Cooper

  Caro was fastest. “Eleven.”

  “Is one going to go up or come down?”

  She grinned. “Go up.” She pointed to one close to us. “That one. The fat one. The Ind . . . tegreetor’s Dream.”

  “Integrator’s Dream?”

  She nodded, smiling.

  There were no engines or lights on it, and it didn’t look any different than the other ships. How did she know its name? I couldn’t see it from here. Only one ship here looked like New Making or Creator, sleek and fast and meant for interplanetary travel. Everything else, including the one Caro pointed to, was squatter and fatter, designed to go between here and the space stations that blinked overhead at night like slowly shooting stars.

  “Where is it going?” Jherrel asked.

  Caro answered him. “Up. It’s empty except for two people. It’s going up to the space station to get some men.”

  What? I remembered Joseph sitting in the park on Fremont, telling me the demon dogs were coming, when he couldn’t possibly see them. I knelt down beside her, and brushed unruly curls from her forehead. “What else do you know?”

  “About what? That ship’s the only one that’s talking. And the man that told all the fliers to get up.” She looked over at me. “Cover your ears, Mommy Chelo.”

  I did, pantomiming Jherrel to do the same.

  He slammed his fists hard against his ears, his face screwed up in concentration. Even so, his eyes stayed on the ships.

  Nothing happened.

  Just as I was beginning to wonder if Caro was right after all, the ship she’d pointed to gave a great low rumble, and rose into the sky, starting out ponderously slow, almost hovering, and then picking up speed and flashing away from us.

  If I’d had more than tea, I’d have thrown it up. Caro was a Wind Reader. Powerful. Capable. In significant danger of going stark-raving mad in her teenage years, and never free of the possibility. Like Kayleen and Joseph. She’d be able to talk to others like her in the quiet of a world of data, and maybe she could fly starships. I could only hope she was steady, like Joseph, and not plagued by her skills like Kayleen. “Jherrel?”

  “What?”

  “Did you know which ship was going to take off?”

  “No.”

  Good. I didn’t really want him to be as different from me as Joseph and Kayleen sometimes felt—as I saw them feel. Kayleen, at least, was likely to be killed or driven crazy one day. I was often afraid for her. I clutched Caro in close to me, murmuring, “Good job, honey. We’ll tell Dad and Mommy Kayleen when we get home, okay?”

  “Tell them what?”

  “That you heard the ship talk.”

  She pondered the idea. “Okay.”

  I turned to Jherrel. “Was it fun to watch?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Can we go again soon? I miss the ships. I want to learn to fly.”

  Which he might not get to do, if he wasn’t a Wind Reader. “Don’t you like this better?”

  “The sky is too big.”

  I cringed. “You’ll get used to it. Ready to run back to Grandma Paloma?”

  He shook his head. “My legs are tired now.”

  “You promised I wouldn’t have to carry you.”

  “You carried Caro.”

  He was too smart for his own good, and he’d gotten heavy, too.

  Paloma and I returned with the kids by late afternoon. Paloma stopped from time to time, snipping flowers and herbs, telling us the names. By the time we got home, she’d filled two bags Seeyan had given her and carried an extra clipping in each hand. “Maybe I can talk Seeyan into introductions to the other Keepers. I want to interview them, and see how all of this is used. Seeyan said some were designed for beauty and healing powers.”

  “I thought you’d like Seeyan and her herbs.”

  “Maybe I can make more of my salves.”

  “We’d like that.” At home, Paloma had been the town apothecary.

  “I hear there’s great gardens in Oshai. We’ll have to ask Liam about it when he gets back tomorrow.”

  Hopefully the guest house would start smelling like Paloma’s old place soon.

  I settled the kids down for a nap with Sasha, and then went downstairs and made a cup of col while Paloma made notes about her collection, including detailed drawings. Jenna looked over her shoulder. “I suppose you want me to find a way for you to hang those in the window.”

  Paloma nodded placidly.

  Jenna sighed. “All right. Let me think.”

  I took three long sips of col before I let out my secret. “Caro is a Wind Reader.”

  Jenna came over to my side. “How do you know?”

  “She spotted which ship was about to leave the spaceport before it started its engines.”

  “And there was no other clue?” Jenna asked.

  “Not that I saw.” I thought back. “She said it was going up to get some men. I suppose you could check on that.”

  Jenna frowned. “Did you see the name of the ship?”

  “Caro told me. Something really weird. ‘The Integrator’s Dream’?”

  “Well that ought to be unique. Dianne and I will look it up.”

  “I’m sure she was Reading the Wind,” I said. “I practically raised Joseph.”

  “I know,” Jenna said.

  “About time she told you,” Paloma said dryly, and picked up a delicate flower, holding it up to the light and turning it slowly, so it shone a translucent bright blue.

  15

  ALICIA: A RUN ABOUT TOWN

  Joseph rolled over, flopping an arm out and pinning me to the bed with it. He mumbled, “The blood vessels in the lungs are twice as effective as ours. Biology is helped with flexible carbon bones in the chest so a flier can . . .” His face turned down, muffling whatever the flier could do.

  I needed that biology. A full week of Tsawo’s flying lessons had left my shoulders heavy and thick, and layered tender bruises on my bottom. I’d even barked my shins on a rock trying to land. Flying was beginning to give back some of what it cost me, but there was no freedom in it. Not yet. The middle of my back ached. Joseph’s heavy arm felt stifling across my sore chest, and I lifted it and rolled away. He’d been so busy since we landed I almost never saw him, and half the time, even when we were in the same room, he didn’t notice me. I wanted it to be better between us, but I needed him to tell me he loved me, and instead he spent all of his time with Marcus and Kayleen, and sometimes Chelo. And now that Caro was a Wind Reader, with her, too.

  Morning was painting gray into the black sky, and already the earliest fliers were up. It still enthralled me to see them; at dawn they seemed to fly for joy and fun.

  Marcus’s voice called up the steps. “Jo-seph. Morning. Jo-seph.”

  I turned back to Joseph, watching the shadows on his face. He didn’t stir. His jaw had a strong angle that I loved, and his hair had grown long enough to fall unruly around his ears. He smelled of dreams and sweat. I inched closer to him, hoping he’d feel me there and move toward me.

  He didn’t move at all, except his eyelids fluttering with dreams. A soft grunt escaped his lips.

  “Jo-seph.” Marcus had come closer up the stairs. “Jo-seph.”

  “Mmmmmphhhh.” Joseph rolled away from me and sat up, rubbing the sticky hair from his forehead. “Coming.”

  I lay, listening, as he readied himself; the slide of pants up his naked legs and the even softer fall of a shirt across his shoulders. Water running and the mildly astringent scent of Paloma’s homemade toothpaste.

  The door opened and closed behind him. He called a cheery good morning down to Marcus. I wanted to cry and pound the pillows, or maybe scream out angrily. Maybe it would have been better, after all, to go back to Silver’s Home. Of course, he’d been separated from me there, too. Ships and genetics mattered more than me, and worse, he wouldn’t even let me help. Why put a risk-taker near your careful projects?

  I waited until he left with Chelo and Kayleen and Marcus, heading back to the
university. Downstairs, I found Liam getting the kids ready to go on a butterfly hunt, and Dianne deep in conversation with Tiala and Jenna. As usual, Bryan sat off to the side, watching. I sometimes wondered if he wished he’d chosen invisibility like me and Induan. He’d had the chance, but picked fighting fingernails instead. Just like a guy, pick something that was really only useful as a surprise once. Bryan gestured me to the chair next to him. I poured some col and sat down beside him. “Morning. Where’s Ming?”

  “It’s you and me today. She’s out with Dianne already.”

  I raised an eyebrow. I’d not been out without a minder or Tsawo since we got here. “And they’ve asked us to . . . ?”

  “Stay here. Check the news. Jenna has some chores for us. After we run.”

  Ah. Almost a day off. We could run, and then go somewhere, and then come back. They’d never know. They’d be gone. Dianne and Jenna drove everyone but me as hard as Marcus drove Joseph. I glanced at Jenna. I’d been good for so long that she ought to trust me again. But she didn’t. “No one else is running with us?”

  Bryan shook his head.

  “Let’s go.”

  He pushed a plate of flatbreads and orange fruit at me. I shook my head and lifted my col. “I’ll eat . . . later.” In town. That could be an excuse, too. I drained the col and took my cup over to the sink. Jenna stopped a moment. “Bryan filled you in?”

  I nodded.

  “When you get back, I want you two to do an analysis of the shipping patterns I downloaded last night. Start with intercity travel: tourists and goods. I’m looking for baseline patterns, and once you get those, for aberrations.”

  “Induan would be good at that.”

  “She’ll be with me. Paloma’s already out gathering herbs, but she can help you when she gets back.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “There’s a tour group in town. We’re looking them over and meeting with some of the guides. The tour is people from Paradise and Islas and Silver’s Home all together.”

  That made me laugh. “All the warring factions in one place? Studying interplanetary communication?” I often didn’t get what they were looking for. As far as I could tell, they didn’t either—stray bits that would somehow come together. But they brought Induan to watch invisibly.

  Never me.

  Jenna put a hand on her hip and gave me a stern look. “Don’t be flip. They’ve been all over, and I want to learn more about the various cities without having to visit every one of them. Matriana’s brokering an invite.” At least she had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable. None of us six would be there.

  Well, it gave me some freedom. “We’re heading out.”

  “If you wait for Induan to get ready, we’ll go with you.”

  “I wouldn’t want to throw you off schedule.” Besides, Induan was like me; she could already be in the room and none of us would know. I tried to set off the slightly bitter edge in my tone with a smile. It would be nice to be naïve like Chelo and not see how we were being excluded. But I wasn’t like Chelo, and even though I loved her for worrying about us all, she hated conflict. Too hesitant.

  Besides, being alone with Bryan would be a nice break.

  And so, five minutes later we’d changed to running gear and grabbed water. We stood side by side, leaning into one of the smooth-trunked trees. Paloma had told me it was called a water-cup tree for the big green flowers it dripped at the ends of its branches. The flowers caught rainwater every night and drank it throughout the day. Birds and insects drank it, too.

  Stretching reminded me of every bit of soreness that had come from flying, and I cried out twice. The first time Bryan laughed at me, and I laughed back, but the second time he came over to me and cupped my shoulder in his huge hand. “Are you okay?”

  He’d saved me once, a long time ago, and we’d both been to Silver’s Home together. I didn’t even bother to try and fool him. “Flying hurts. I feel left out. I hate it that Joseph and Chelo and everybody else are excited about keeping people we don’t know from getting into a fight we don’t know much about.”

  He pulled me close to him, his hold brotherly and warm. “We know some things.”

  “Do you trust anything they tell us?”

  He nodded. “I trust Jenna. And I trust Joseph and Kayleen to smell lies. They can go places we can’t.”

  How come no one had the common sense to question everything? I needed to change the subject. “Catch me?”

  Of course, he had to let go of me first. But he did. It was already later than we usually started out, the day warming like every day did at this time. I led, choosing to run away from Fliers’ Field. Starting was slower, here. At first, we raced under sun-dappled leaves, passing flowers and butterflies, and bees that I suspected wouldn’t sting. Then we were in the open, the sun pouring down on us, sweating, racing. I had gotten the hang of speed in lower gravity. Longer strides and managing the bounce helped. Bryan’s extra weight actually gave him an advantage here, and he caught me twice before my stamina let me burst ahead of him, five meters, ten, twenty. I kept it there, teasing him for a bit. After thirty minutes of drawing him after me, I stopped under a small copse of trees, panting in the shade.

  He stood beside me, both of us looking out. We’d come close enough to the spaceport to see it in the distance. He had a broad smile on his face. “Good.” Pant. “Practice.”

  He used to say that to us when I raced him on Fremont during Trading Days. Years and lifetimes ago. When we were ten and eleven and twelve. “Always. We must always stay strong.”

  He laughed. “Ming practices her dancing every day. She fights and dances all at once, and sometimes she even does it with her nails out.”

  “Is that why you like her? She chose the same mod as you?”

  He blushed. “She has more than that.”

  I bet she did. “Like what?”

  He blushed. Sweet and tender and awkward. And silent.

  “Why do you like her so much?” I pushed him.

  He stared off at the spaceport. His breath was almost normal now, but his face still red. It took him a little while to answer. “Same reason you love Joseph. She’s the first person that ever loved me all for myself.”

  He might be a strongman by design, but they hadn’t left out his heart or his brains. I took a long pull from the flask of water on my belt, and he did the same, the two of us comfortable with each other. Happy even.

  We were too far away from the spaceport to see details as we watched an ungainly box of a cargo ship land in its own heat shimmer.

  “Want to go to town?”

  “Let’s run around to the university.”

  “It’s a long way.” But who would complain at us running too far? “Sure, let’s go.”

  We made it to the School of Heaven’s Flight and Ridiculous Names before the sun was full up. The one time I’d been here before, it had been eerily quiet, but today fliers went in and out of buildings in small clouds of color. Wingless also walked along the paths in groups, chattering. For the first time, I saw a whole string of people in the ugly wings going by just above me. They flew so easily I winced. Maybe Tsawo was right and it would take years before I had beautiful wings.

  By now my stomach and my backbone were chatting with each other about how stupid I’d been to refuse Bryan’s suggestion of food, so the first thing we did was trot slowly through the streets trying to find some.

  Bryan smelled it first. Fresh bread. We followed our noses to a busy loft with food laid out on a long table. Winged and wingless crowded the space, and holo projections of various types spun and danced in the air above their tables.

  Bryan watched in silence, his eyes narrowed, trying to understand the system. He never jumped right in. I waited, letting him find his bearings. Others watched us back, and it dawned on me that I’d seen few strongmen like Bryan here. But trust him to be practical. “It’s not free,” he said.

  Meaning we’d get caught out since a credit transactio
n would go back to the guest house. “Maybe they’ll miss it. The others probably eat here, too.”

  He looked dubious, but surely his stomach was empty, too. It took more energy to run his body this far than mine. “My stomach doesn’t care if we get caught.”

  “You never care if we get caught.”

  “Do you?”

  Of course he did, but he laughed and flexed a bicep. “What are they going to do? Beat me up?”

  More like keep us from coming out alone together. Besides, it was eat or hobble back, or maybe not get back at all. No one had altered us enough to eat the air.

  I felt deliciously guilty as I ordered col, fruit, and protein bread, and refilled our water bottles. We found a table near the edge of the room. The food was good, but being in the chaos of a busy place was better. After we’d settled, we appeared to blend more than we had standing in the doorway. Snippets of conversation flowed around us.

  A pair of fliers passing: “The two-tone ceremony is tomorrow.”

  “Who’s playing?”

  A shrug. “I’ll see when I get there.”

  Another set going the other way: “Are you sky-dancing tomorrow?”

  “No. Henrie is convinced I’ll fall.”

  “Will you?”

  A laugh. “Not if I don’t get to fly in the first place.”

  Two wingless women, laughing: “The tall man came from Paradise. That’s why he’s so handsome.”

  A giggle in response. “Will you ask him out?”

  And faintly, as they faded into the crowd. “Tonight?”

  I silently wished her luck and kept listening. Bryan seemed to join me in the endeavor. Our ears were good anyway, and being almost ignored like this, I felt better than I had since we left Silver’s Home. More normal. The daily chatter of a world, which wasn’t centered all on us.

  Two flier men flanked a woman, talking loudly since they had to walk a little distance from each other to protect their wingspreads: “Matriana says they’ll know soon.”