Reading the Wind (Silver Ship)

by Brenda Cooper

  I stiffened. “Animal?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Not a cat, not the tall-beasts, not the demon dogs. I don’t know.”

  Liam and I glanced at each other. “We should all go,” he said.

  Kayleen picked up Windy’s lead.

  I swallowed my comment that she should just leave Windy. If anything happened to us, the hebra would be trapped in a corral. I closed my eyes. “Please let it be Joseph,” I murmured.

  Kayleen left Windy at the base of the rocks. We climbed up, standing on the highest of the tumbled stones, gazing out into the long, narrow valley. It looked empty, except for three big brown birds riding thermals in lazy circles. I glanced at Kayleen. Her eyes had lost focus, her body stilled. “Five of them. People. They’re coming this way.” She pointed. Following the direction of her fingertip, I made out a small group walking near the edge of the river trees as if trying to stay inconspicuous. They moved unerringly toward us.

  So they knew we were here. “What should we do?” I asked.

  “Meet them and pretend there are more of us than there are,” Liam said. “They can’t know.”

  Kayleen shook her head. “They know. They can read our data.”

  Of course. “With machines or by themselves?” I asked.

  Her eyes had narrowed down to small slits. “By themselves. There’s at least two Wind Readers in the group.”

  Altered. Like us. And from Silver’s Home or someplace like it. “Is Joseph with them?”

  “No.”

  “How can you tell?” Liam asked.

  “These people aren’t like Joseph at all. Joseph and I always knew whenever the other had been in the nets. Especially if we were both in them at once. I’d know if he was here.”

  A deep sigh of disappointment escaped me. Would he ever come back? Did he live?

  She closed her eyes. “They’ve been in the valley net. Not at home yet—they haven’t seen the connection, haven’t pushed hard. But they know there are people here. They seem a little confused, maybe because these are different than their nets.” She ran her fingers through her hair and grimaced. “I wouldn’t bet they can’t figure it out.” She put a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t put up any good protections. We were alone.” She sank down, her back against a rock, her head tipped slightly backward on its hard contours. She closed her eyes and fell into herself and away from us.

  Liam and I exchanged worried glances. “Is she okay?” he whispered.

  I swallowed, glancing at Windy, who stood watching Kayleen, looking curious but unconcerned. “Windy thinks so.”

  He nodded. “I don’t think we can hide.”

  “I know.”

  “Should we hide Kayleen and Windy? Split up?”

  “If she felt them in the nets, they probably felt her. They’ll know we aren’t Wind Readers.” I bit my lip. “I guess. Maybe not. Maybe it will make a difference that these are Artistos’s nets.” I looked back out over the valley. The people were closer. They were all bigger than we were, and two were wider as well. Like Bryan, only fully grown. Kayleen was right. Joseph wasn’t there. I would have recognized his walk anywhere. “We can’t run away.”

  “I know.” Liam squeezed my hand, glancing down at Kayleen again. “We have to go talk to them.” He called down. “Kayleen?”

  She shook her head, almost imperceptibly. A sign to leave her alone.

  They were only a hundred meters from us now. Two of them were women—one of the bigger two, and the one walking in the lead. They stopped, pointing at Kayleen’s and Windy’s running trail. No way they’d miss us now. “We should go,” I breathed out softly, as if they were close enough to hear. “Before they get any closer. Keep them out of the valley.”

  Liam nodded. “Kayleen?”

  She opened her eyes, her gaze passing through us as if we weren’t there. “I hid our nodes in the valley. They’ll be able to see them, but they’ll need me to access them,” she said.

  There wasn’t much more than safety perimeter there, and the ability for the nodes to recognize us. “Why?”

  “So they can’t change the programming.”

  Of course. “We need to go talk to them,” I said. “I want you to take Windy and go to the cave. Can you tell what’s happening out here from there?”

  “Yes.” Kayleen peered over the rock, her eyes widening at how close the people were now. “I want to go with you,” she hissed.

  Liam snapped back. “Go. Stay safe. Keep Windy safe.”

  She glared at him, her mouth a tight line. “We should stay together.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t want everyone I care about to be in one place if these people are dangerous. If not, we’ll come get you.”

  Kayleen leaned in toward him, one fist a tight ball. Then she kissed him, clutching him as if she’d never see him again. She reached out an arm for me, and I joined them, feeling the tight pressure of her fear against my back. After a long silent moment, she gave a quick half-smile, a small nod. “I’ll know if you leave the valley.” She looked away. “And if you come home.” She turned and leapt awkwardly down next to Windy, patting her once on the neck as she picked up the trailing lead.

  “Now,” Liam said, and began to pick his way down the path through the rocks toward the strangers. He walked straight up, carefully nonchalant, intending to be seen. I took a deep, shaking breath and followed.

  They stopped, watching us, letting us come to them, standing almost completely still.

  I waved.

  They didn’t wave back.

  As we came closer I called out, “Hello!”

  The woman in the front nodded. Liam, walking in front of me, put a hand out to stop me a few meters from them, just close enough to talk without yelling.

  They all wore what must be uniforms—straight-legged tan pants and tunics. The woman who had nodded wore a dark blue tunic, the others a paler blue. She had dark hair and eyes, a firm square chin, and stood half a head taller than the rest of the group.

  I mentally dubbed one man and one woman the “strongs”—Bryan doubled. They could have been twins in physique, except for the woman’s slender waist and slightly softer form. Their shoulders and thighs were wide, their necks thick, and their features chiseled and sharp. In spite of their bulk, they were as beautiful as the leader. They each wore belts studded with small metal things that could have been tools, communications gear, or weapons. Maybe all three.

  The two others were men, one blond, one brown-haired, medium build for this group, like Liam. I guessed these two were the Wind Readers, but only from the structure of the group.

  On their breasts, each of the five wore an insignia I didn’t recognize: a single bright yellow star surrounded by white knotted scrollwork which could have been flowers or swords, or flowers wrapped around swords. They radiated health and strength and looked young except for their eyes.

  Did they see us as scruffier versions of themselves? As enemies? Their gazes did not break, did not give anything away. No one smiled. None of them sweated or showed signs of exertion, even though they had apparently been walking for a while, and the morning had warmed enough that my long-sleeve shirt chafed.

  Our wait paid off—the woman leader spoke first, her words thicker and slower than ours, but understandable. “I am the First for this group. I am Ghita.”

  First?

  She looked at me, as if expecting me to answer.

  Liam spoke before I could. “Liam.” He pointed to me. “And this is Chelo. Excuse me, but may I ask where you are from? We saw your ship come in yesterday.”

  Surprise briefly touched Ghita’s eyes. “We are from the Islas Autocracy.”

  The way she said it showed that what surprised her was that she had to tell us at all. Maybe the insignia should have told us.

  Liam nodded as if the name meant something to him, although I suspected he was pretending. “What can we do for you? May we offer you hospitality?”

  “We have come here”�
�she paused for a nearly unnoticeable second—“to explore Fremont.”

  Liam and I nodded. I didn’t trust her words. They seemed to argue with her eyes, and there was that short pause. If they were here for something else, what was it? I couldn’t make myself welcome them, although I probably should, if just to put them off their guard. I spoke simply. “Can we help you?”

  “Are you natives?” she asked.

  Liam said, “We were born here.”

  “You will come with us,” Ghita commanded. Soft, but absolutely a command. Command fit Ghita the way shoes fit my feet, comfortably and surely.

  She looked down at the path, her brow slightly creased. We had come this way yesterday, and Windy’s tracks screamed out of the dust. Perhaps that didn’t matter. But neither of us had feet as long as Kayleen’s, and her tracks showed, too.

  Ghita glanced past us, toward the valley, her dark eyes clearly following the path to the base of the rocks. “How many others are there?”

  I swallowed hard and told a near-lie. “Right here, today, there is only us.” After all, Kayleen was surely on her way to the cave by now.

  She continued to stare, as if mistrusting my answer. Fair enough—I mistrusted her. She held her ground, not moving, but any second, I expected her to take a step forward, toward the hidden valley, toward Kayleen.

  “We would like to see your ship,” Liam said. “And then come back here. We have plants to tend. But perhaps when everyone has time to prepare, we can offer you hospitality.”

  I smiled. He was implying more people—maybe a lot more—without exactly saying it.

  Ghita turned and began walking away from West Home, the two normal-looking men falling in step behind her. The two strongs stood silently, clearly waiting for us. Liam and I looked at each other, then he leaned down. “We have no choice,” he whispered. “Cooperate.”

  He smelled of fear.

  I swallowed, hard. My legs didn’t want to move, and I had to close my eyes to make them. If I had had anything in my stomach it would have come up. The strongs walked just behind us, and I felt like a bird in a trap.

  At least Kayleen was safe. For now.

  I looked at the woman strong, and she gazed back with emotionless, flat eyes. I stewed on her gaze for long strides, going from frightened to angry. Why not try to be friendly? If she wouldn’t, I would. “Excuse me, what is your name?” I asked.

  “Kaal.” Her voice was high and feminine, and like Ghita’s, distant. She flexed her right hand into a fist, open and closed, moving it toward her belt and then away. A threat?

  She didn’t say anything else, and I didn’t ask anything else.

  I took Liam’s hand, sweaty like mine, and we walked close together without talking. Kaal and the strongman were near enough they could have heard anything we said.

  We were being kidnapped for a second time.

  Did Kayleen feel us all leave the valley?

  Clear skies oversaw our forced walk as the sea danced against rocks to our left, far below us.

  They must have started walking before dawn. Yet they walked quickly and easily, in tight formation—Ghita, the two men, us, the strongs. No one talked casually. From time to time Ghita stopped to point at a tree or an animal track and ask us the names. I let Liam respond since his memory was better trained, and in many cases I could tell he was making up names on the spot. I just hoped Ghita couldn’t tell.

  It took two hours before we saw their ship, sitting in the open in a wide, flat spot at the mouth of a valley. Liam leaned in to me and said, “The dogs live here. Watch for tracks.”

  I swallowed. The biggest pack of demon dogs made its home in the head of this valley, where it curved in toward the mountains. That was where they had come from to attack us. Liam had tested that, had needed to know. He’d drawn a map, and I dredged up the memory of it. There was our valley, sitting at the head of Golden Cat Valley. One over, the valley we’d landed in. Ship Eater. Rockier and less friendly than Golden Cat Valley. And then here, the Valley of the Dogs.

  Had they seen our skimmer? What did they make of it?

  Their ship rested in the middle of the wide opening where the Valley of the Dogs met grassy plains leading to the cliffs over the churning sea. Where the New Making had been sleek and bright, this looked squat and ugly. Part of the miracle of the New Making was the way its skin gleamed with perfection even after years of storms and grass fires and earthquakes. Two dents showed in the side of this ship. It was streaked with something dark, as if it had flown through fire and been charred. The outline of closed doors punctured it halfway up the sides—maybe for skimmers? Maybe for weapons? Odd that they looked so perfect, so well-formed, and their ship looked like it had been in a war. But then, they and their ship both looked formidable. I dropped back by Kaal, and asked, “What is your ship’s name?”

  “Dawnforce.”

  What a strange name—beauty with a fist. Understated. It fit these scarless, neat-featured, strong people.

  I shivered as we followed Ghita up the ramp. The ship smelled of oil and chemicals and somewhere inside, something hummed quietly. Ghita marched us down a long corridor, and up an elevator until we were probably in the middle of the ship. The inside was clean and neat, the corridors tall and wide and rounded, everything a dull, unadorned silver. The few times we came across people, they wore the same uniforms as our captors, and stood sharp and straight, staying out of our way.

  People noticed Ghita wherever she went.

  She led us to a small room with two beds. “Please wait here.” And with that, she left, locking the door behind her.

  We sat next to each other on one of the beds, and Liam’s hand found mine. The steady pressure of his hand gave me small comfort as I stared at the locked door.

  29

  AN ODD CONVERSATION

  The small room they left us to wait in on the Dawnforce felt even smaller after we’d been in it a while. Liam and I sat next to each other on one of the beds. A wall of empty cabinets stood unlocked, but nothing sat on any of the clean white shelves. The other three walls were emptier—bright, glaring white, and strangely slick when I ran my finger along them. The room taught us little, although the lock on the door could be considered a lesson.

  Whoever these people were, surely they could watch and listen.

  I briefly toyed with creating a fiction—talking about more people, people who would be looking for us—but there were so many ways that this could trip us up. We couldn’t mention Kayleen’s name, or talk about Artistos, or Windy. Liam knew it, too. He spoke of inconsequential things like what we should plant in the garden next. We verbally re-designed the floor space in the little greenhouse at least three times, then fell silent. Only an hour had passed, according to my chrono, but it seemed much longer. Our breathing filled the silence in the tiny room.

  Who were these people? What did they want with us?

  The door opened. Ghita stood in the doorway, freshly laundered, her dark hair neatly slicked. She bowed her head briefly before meeting our eyes. “Liam, Chelo—Captain Groll will see you now. I will escort you to the audience room.” Her words sounded less like a command than before, but I wouldn’t have downgraded them all the way to request stature.

  Ghita led us through sterile corridors, and into an empty rectangular room. Seven cushioned dark-green chairs sat in a semicircle, a small table beside each one. Everything, of course, was bolted down, but in spite of being in a spaceship, the room was far more comfortable than the one they’d left us waiting in. Three of the walls were the same slick surface, but golden-brown, more soothing than the stark white of the other room. Recessed lighting from the ceiling illuminated soft navy-blue flooring. On the far wall, a single star a meter across glowed a bright, cheerful yellow, casting golden light into the room. The knotted black and gold scrollwork surrounding it was big enough for me to see it was, in fact, flowers wrapped around swords. Like the name of the ship, an image which suggested peace and threat at once.

&nbs
p; Ghita sat in the chair closest to the door, gesturing for me and Liam to sit on either side of her, which left all of us looking at the star and scroll design. “I am sorry we kept you waiting. We thought that you were—something different—than you are.”

  Different how? I kept a neutral expression. “Thank you.”

  A woman walked in and took a chair opposite Ghita, so that the star shone above her head and highlighted her golden-red hair. Like Ghita, she looked young, but moved with a clear sense of authority. Her tunic matched the sun above her. She inclined her head slightly and met my eyes, and then Liam’s. “I am Captain Lushia Groll. Welcome to my ship, the Dawnforce.” She glanced at Ghita. “My second suggests she may have been hasty in choosing how to treat you. I apologize for that.”

  She didn’t look apologetic.

  “You are, of course, free to return to your home. In the meantime, we invite you to stay and visit for the afternoon. We wish to learn more about Fremont, about how you came to be here, and about the city on the other continent.”

  They both waited. Watching us.

  I took a deep breath to calm my fluttering stomach. Liam nodded at me, suggesting I decide how to answer her. Great. Away from the familiar territory of acting like a small band, he was ready for me to lead. Well, when you don’t know what to do, stall. I nodded at the captain, and said, “Ghita said you are from the Islas Autocracy. Can you tell me where that is?”

  Captain Groll and her second shared a confused glance. The captain spoke gently. “Where are you from?”

  I did not want to discuss Artistos. Instinct, perhaps, or the military feel of the Dawnforce and her crew. I chose the most neutral answer I could think of. “We came from Silver’s Home.”

  Ghita spoke. “Your genetics told us that. But you do not know who we are. I don’t understand.” As if it was impossible for us to be from Silver’s Home and not know them. I held my tongue, hoping for information from Ghita as she continued. “We were told Fremont is settled by people who aren’t from the five planets. We were hired to—meet these people.” Was it my imagination or did she hesitate? Had she been about to say something besides “meet?”