Wings of Creation

by Brenda Cooper

  He did, whispering back. “Thank you.”

  The whole ceremony seemed overwrought and funny-sad. I stood in front of Bryan, his broad back serving as a wall that the slow stream of people parted around. They still moved forward all around us, many almost dancing in place, the group excitement worse than the day the roamers came into town. Three women passed us, looking joyful, sighing softly in the back of their throats as if they beheld a litter of new puppies instead of an old, bald man. A swarthy man in a gold shirt with black pants and gold sandals held his hands in front of him, folded, as if in prayer. A pair of tall lanky men held hands and walked solemnly forward, eyes shifting back and forth as if they were afraid they might miss something.

  Above us, the sky was clear of fliers. Beside us, a flier with maroon wings striped in black and yellow brushed my arm and, absurdly, I looked to see if he had dropped a feather.

  Bryan took a step back. Good. I followed. Slowly, ever so slowly, we two crept backward.

  One step at a time.

  I wanted the far edge of the crowd in the worst way.

  The sky-dance of the fliers had enthralled me, but it hadn’t painted me with love for everyone else nearby the way it seemed to have affected Chelo. Before the crowd closed entirely in front of us, I caught a glimpse of Chelo’s face, laughing, her dark eyes sparkling as she said something to Mohami, the Keeper of the Ways of the Fliers of Lopali. I wondered if he’d studied at the School of Heaven’s Flight and showered in The Stream of Heaven’s Water and ate the Bread of the Enlightened and what the people called it when he went to the bathroom.

  Once we finally moved far enough back for some fresh air and the crowd had lost its forward momentum, mumbled words I couldn’t quite make out rose above the crowd for a moment, and then a great deep buzz started from among the people. It turned out to be a hum. A single syllable: “uu.” Starting low and then rising, the syllable held through repeated breaths, in the end sounding like “you you you you” and then starting over.

  All around us, people were clasping each other’s hands.

  A voice spoke behind us. “Hum. You’ll like it.”

  I turned back to see our Keepers from this morning, Kala and the vacuous-eyed Samuel. His face was all sweetness, her voice encouraging. “Hum. Just do it. For some people, it takes a few days to feel the power of the ceremony of Morning Services.”

  Hopefully it would take me forever. But we were guests, and so I hummed and Bryan hummed behind me, and at least we two hummed together, even if there was no unison between us and the crowd. What we did was more like the uu of two people struggling not to laugh.

  Thankfully, the grand all-together hum and holding of hands seemed to be the last requirement for the morning. People began to whisper to each other, and then to talk, and, finally, to walk back toward the barracks. I pointed at the tops of the green hills where the watchers had been, which were quickly emptying. “Let’s go sit up there.”

  We made it up the first low part of the grade before Kala caught up with us. She called my name, and Bryan’s, and we stopped and turned and looked down at her. “I just . . . wanted to see it from up above,” I said to her.

  That made her smile. “I’ll go with you.”

  “What if I promise we’ll come back?”

  She only smiled again, and went past us, leading on up the hill. The ground below us that had seemed so crowded a few minutes ago was now almost empty. I spotted our family by finding Caro and Jherrel racing circles around Liam and Chelo, who walked side by side, intent on a conversation with Mohami. The mandala garden seemed even prettier from up here, but I’d come to mistrust all the beauty of Lopali.

  On the other side of the hill’s crest, more hills, just like we’d driven through. I watched Kala’s back. She didn’t have the misshapen figure of a failed flier, but rather looked like most women in the Five Worlds—well-formed and strong and pretty, with no gray hair or lines by her eyes. With Kala, I had the sense she was actually young.

  Weren’t they supposed to be keeping gardens instead of us?

  I didn’t want to ask if there was anyplace we could talk privately. I caught up to her. “Look, Kala, one of the things we need to do is exercise. Every day. We already missed yesterday. We need to run.”

  She looked like she had expected to hear something about the ceremony or a question about how we might save our souls, but to give her credit she parsed my words well enough after a few breaths. “There is a track.”

  “Can you tell us how to get there?”

  “I’ll take you there.”

  Of course. We weren’t dressed in exercise clothes, but we had on good enough shoes. She was in a long robe; we could outrun her. Not to get away, not yet, but we could talk to each other and maybe we wouldn’t even be overheard.

  My plan worked, except for Bryan mumbling that he didn’t want to work up a sweat in his good ceremonial shirt.

  I decided to take that as sarcasm.

  The oval track Kala led us to hummed with activity. A busy game that involved teams and balls threaded up and down the middle, the players calling and hooting back and forth to each other. The balls were large and heavy, and looked slick. A short wall separated the game from the track itself, where five other runners circled, two lazily, two together in a race, and the other running steadily with great long bounds.

  I watched Kala to see what she would do, and she camped out on a low rise where she could watch the whole track. There, she folded her hands in her lap.

  Bryan sprinted out ahead of me, the footing a soft foamy material that gave underfoot and had just enough roughness so that my feet didn’t slip as I leapt into a slow run.

  We went two full rounds in silence. A few more people joined us, probably also refugees from the ceremony. A woman from the game fell near us and bounced back up quickly. Bryan matched me step for step and spoke softly, his voice edged. “I need to get out of here.”

  Good. No kidding. “This whole planet creeps me out. But this is the worst spot yet. Besides, we’re not exactly hidden standing around with hundreds of people every morning.”

  He must have understood my meaning. “You need to stay and watch over Chelo.”

  “She has Liam.”

  He waited until we’d turned halfway around the track before answering. “I don’t want her hurt. You’re strong enough to take care of her.”

  “So are you. You could stay and I can go.”

  He grunted. “We should have heard from the Gang of Girls by now.”

  I glanced across the track at silent Kala. “Neither one of us can stand this much longer, you know.”

  “Seeyan may hear something. She’ll tell us if she does.”

  We sped up, passing the single runner. When we passed in front of Kala, it looked like her eyes were closed. “I bet if we just ran off the track, she’d follow us.”

  Bryan laughed. “So she’s good. Want to try it?”

  “Surely we’ll hear from them soon.”

  “Ming was supposed to contact me yesterday.”

  I almost stumbled over my feet. “How?”

  “We have a two-way she bought on one of the ships.”

  He wasn’t carrying anything big. “Where?”

  “In my jaw.”

  Good for him. Good for them both. “Nice. Sometimes I think we’re all too compliant.”

  “You would think that way.”

  But he’d acted on it. He must be worried sick. “Maybe she just couldn’t reach you. I mean, what if she’s just out of range, or they’re being watched too closely?”

  “As a dance teacher?”

  There was that.

  22

  JOSEPH: THE CAVE OF REAL POWER

  Induan, still carrying our wings, seemed to disappear as she walked into the cave. I squinted after her. The cave made a door in a wall of rock. Here and there, yellow and light green grasses had found enough dirt in the cracks of the rocks to send up thin tendrils, and in three places, bright yellow fl
owers bloomed. Red and orange leaves on long stems hung across the mouth, like a high curtain. Behind them, just darkness. No Induan. No wings. No Kayleen.

  Not even any sound.

  Marcus grinned as he watched me stop and stare, and then take a few more steps. Induan had gone through, so I followed what looked like her footsteps, and walked into the blackness.

  Light and sound startled me, and only Marcus’s firm hand in the small of my back kept me going forward into it. When I looked behind me, the blackness was gone entirely. A ray of late sunshine speared into the cave, illuminating the darkness for quite a distance before bright artificial light took over. Our cave at home had felt big. This was . . . big enough to hold all of Artistos, and that was in this one chamber.

  The walls had been made. The floor was flat, the walls a combination of squared-off and rounded, perhaps following the contours of natural veins of rock. “Wow.”

  “It was created long ago, fashioned inside the bones of the moon that was the seed for Lopali.”

  That sounded so Marcus. There were at least twenty or so people in view, maybe twice that many, mostly wingless humans like us. Buildings hugged the walls. Some of the main floor had been cleared with lines painted around it. Storage? Whatever, it was empty now. A shaft of light from above lit one corner, although I couldn’t see the opening that let the light in.

  I hadn’t expected a small city.

  Induan’s light blond hair and Kayleen’s unruly dark tresses drew my eye. They stood bent over something in a near corner of the cave. I started toward them.

  A black-and-white streak emerged from between them and bounded toward me. Sasha. I whispered thanks to whoever had brought my dog to me.

  I knelt down and let Sasha barrel into me, so tired that the strength of her enthusiastic leap knocked my feet from under me; I landed on my backside covered in black-and-white dog.

  Laughing, Marcus helped me up. “It’s grand, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Yes, it is.”

  He grinned. I grinned back. “So why wasn’t this always our destination? I mean even before SoBright?”

  His cheeks actually reddened. “It’s a secret.”

  “It looks safer than SoBright.”

  He gave me one of his steady you-don’t-know-everything looks. “You needed to be seen.”

  I decided I’d regret answering that before I thought about it, and kept going toward the girls. Seeyan was seated on the far side of the small circle. That explained Sasha. I went right to her, and she held out her hand, putting her long slender fingers into my palm. She smiled. “Your sister is safe. And the others who came with me.”

  “Where?” They hadn’t known when they left.

  Seeyan shook her head. “They’re near the center of Oshai, and well guarded.”

  “But I need to know where she is! What if she needs my help?”

  Marcus had come up beside me. At least he looked contrite. “It’s best . . . for security . . . if you don’t know each other’s hiding place.”

  I turned around on him, all the pain in my still-aching shoulders and the fatigue swimming through my body turning to a flash of anger. “I should never have let you separate us! We should never have agreed to this.”

  He shook his head gently. “I planned to keep her with us. It’s the kids we couldn’t have, and this was her choice.”

  I knew that. But separating me from Alicia was Marcus’s choice. Ever since the first day he met us, on Silver’s Home, he’d been mildly disapproving of Alicia. “What? No room for babies in this huge place?”

  Kayleen, who had been watching quietly, spoke up. “Joseph. Relax. It’s done now. We’ll be together soon. I know we will.”

  “How do you know?” I snapped at her. “I don’t know.”

  She gave me a hurt glance and walked off.

  Maybe I should have followed her, but Seeyan’s hands were still in mine. She squeezed lightly, her angled features giving her a wild look, her wide-set brown eyes intense. She seemed nervous. I remembered Chelo mentioning how weird it felt when everyone knew her. I bet I was learning the same feeling. She spoke earnestly, her voice quivering a bit at first. “It would have been hard to get the children here. There are no roads, and they’re too heavy to carry. They are in a safe place, Joseph, I promise. They’re very, very well protected.”

  “They’d better be,” I snapped. I took a deep breath, surprised at how angry and worried I sounded. Chelo and Alicia were both strong, both adults. But I wasn’t going to feel better until I saw them. I let out a long sigh and let go of Seeyan’s hands, stepping back.

  Disappointment crossed her face, and she rubbed her hands together in front of her.

  “I am sorry,” I said. “I’m very, very tired.”

  “Sit.” She ushered me to a chair, and gestured to Induan, who reached into a large bag beside her. Seeyan poured me a tall glass of water from a carafe and then brought over a self-heating teacup. It smelled of Seeyan, and must have come from her house. I’d never seen one, but Chelo had told me about them. The glass of water disappeared first. The teacup was as magical as Chelo described. The tea itself tasted bitter but, as I drank it, I felt physically better, although still worried.

  Marcus had disappeared somewhere else in the cave, maybe going after Kayleen. I wanted to go find them both, but even though I felt better, my tired legs really, really didn’t want to move. So I sat with Induan and Seeyan. We shared a good view out of the cave from our seats, while the sun painted the sky with orange and pink and a purplish gold. The cave mouth acted like a picture frame, making the sunset seem like a vid wall from a ship. The brightening artificial light and the sounds of movement from behind us accentuated the effect. Sasha, curled beside me, made it all the more pleasant. When Seeyan got up and refilled my teacup, I looked up at her. “Thank you for bringing Sasha.”

  Her smile was tender, and she reached a hand out toward my face but then pulled back before touching me. “You’re welcome.”

  “What is this place?” I asked her.

  She folded down beside me, legs crossed. She wore thin yellow leggings and a green blouse that contrasted nicely with her auburn hair. “It’s from before they made us. Before they finished Lopali. There are a few more of these. Most are just abandoned. Keepers inhabit at least five. And some, like this one, we lease to other people. It’s a way to get credit so that we can do our own projects.”

  Did she mean ones the true fliers didn’t know about? Although, there were a few fliers here. “Who do you lease this one to?”

  A flustered look crossed her face and I sensed she wished I hadn’t asked her. “A group of people like Marcus.”

  “Who work with fliers? People working on what I’m working on?” I pointed into the dusk outside. White and black wings moved toward us in near-perfect unison. Angeline and Tsawo. I looked for a set of made wings and found none. Paula wasn’t with them.

  “Do you know Paula?” I asked Seeyan.

  She looked away. “I’ve met her. But Paula isn’t one of us.”

  “Isn’t a Keeper?” Because she wasn’t a failure?

  Seeyan shook her head. “Keepers who are the same age—and Paula and I are close—spend a lot of time in the same classes and building the same projects. But I’ve only met Paula a few times.” She sounded proud of herself. “Paula doesn’t have our training.”

  So Seeyan didn’t like her? “Which means?”

  Seeyan looked confused. “Well, if she were a Keeper she’d have a purpose in life.”

  I managed not to choke on the dregs of the tea. “I have a purpose in life.”

  Her eyes widened. “Of course you do. You’re a maker.”

  Wow. “I was trying to say maybe Paula is okay. I’ve met her, and she’s part of the work being done to help you all.” After the words escaped, I realized I’d spoken too sharply.

  Angeline and Tsawo landed, and turned to silhouettes as they looked back at the last of the sunset.

  Seeyan sipped h
er tea in quiet, watching the two fliers. She’d been born by a mother she’d never met, taken to another planet, broken, rejected by a family that had bought her (bought her!) and then been given a simple job. No wonder she identified so with the job. Come to think of it, all of Lopali was pretty tied up around whether you were flier or a tourist or a seeker or a Keeper or another kind of human who lived here. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to sound short with you. I’m just not very happy about being separate from Chelo, and there’s still a lot I don’t understand about this place. In case that’s not enough, people are chasing me.”

  Her usual gentle smile came back. “Opposition is almost always an opportunity to learn.”

  “Sometimes.” I could see why people would have taught her that. “Sometimes it’s just an obstacle.”

  She picked up my teacup and took it away without answering me. She’d lost the smile again, but she still looked more contemplative than angry.

  I went back to petting Sasha and watching for the first stars, which was a lot easier than understanding Seeyan.

  I only got to find three stars before Marcus found me. He offered me a hand, which I took, and I let him pull me up. We stood side by side looking out into the darkness. His voice was soft. “I’m sorry.”

  “For?”

  “That you’re hunted. That you aren’t all together. I’ve watched you and Chelo, and you’re both stronger when you’re together.” He was apologizing, but I didn’t hear regret in his voice.

  “Kayleen’s family is split up, too.” Kayleen! “Where is Kayleen?” I should have gone after her a long time ago. She had to be even lonelier than me.

  “Come on. I’ll show you.”

  He led me toward the back of the cave, where a table had been set up with food for the taking. I looked around. “Where is she?”

  “Grab a plate of food and come on.”

  I took bread and fruit, avoiding a pile of the same grapes I’d already gorged on. There was wine on the table. I reached for it.

  Marcus put a hand out to stop me. “Drink water. You shouldn’t be impaired.”