Amid the Crowd of Stars
Page 17
“Are yeh sure yer machine can fly in this?” Iona asked.
“I can tell yeh I wouldn’t be willing to put a currach in the water in this kind of lashing even if I was guaranteed I’d catch every last bluefin in the Storm Sea,” Angus added.
“I’ll be fine,” Ichiko said. “The flitters are built to take as much punishment as your world can dish out—but it probably won’t be a comfortable ride,” she added ruefully.
“Then yer welcome to stay,” Iona told her. “The weather will pass. It always does.”
“Thank you, but I need to get back anyway—the bio-shields only give me protection for a few cycles. I hope you understand.”
“I want to go back with yeh,” Saoirse interjected. “Yeh could drop me off in Dulcia and when yeh get back to First Base and have a chance to rest, yeh could come back to the town. I could show you around some of the farms outside the town. My cousin Sean joined Clan Taggart, and I could take yeh out there. Or I could take yeh to Usk and introduce you to some of the clans there. And when yer ready, I could come back out to Great Inish with yeh in the flitter again.”
Ichiko hadn’t said no, but the look on her mam’s face told Saoirse that’s what her response was going to be. I need to go because if I’m in the flitter, then maybe Kekeki won’t be tempted to do anything to it. But she couldn’t say that aloud, not to any of them.
“It’s nice of yeh to offer, Saoirse, but I need yeh here for a bit,” Iona said predictably. “With everything going on lately, we’re behind on what needs to be done. The sheepers are ready for their shearing and the milch-goats are likely scattered all over the island by now. And those pots for the spiny walkers need to be pulled up, remember.”
Saoirse heard the undertone of sarcasm in the last sentence. “But, Mam . . .” Saoirse began before Ichiko spoke up.
“Saoirse, I need to go back to Odysseus and put together my report anyway,” she said. “It’ll be several cycles before I can think about coming back here. We both have our duties to attend to. Stay here and help your family with what needs to be done, and I’ll go back to my people and do the same.”
Saoirse’s mind flashed with the image of Ichiko in her flitter, spiraling down into a storm-lashed sea. She wanted to rage, wanted to shout at Ichiko, at her mam, at Angus. But they were all looking at her placidly. “At least let me walk down with you to the flitter,” she said to Ichiko.
“That’s not necessary,” the woman answered. “I can have AMI bring the flitter up here and land it just outside the compound gate.”
“Mebbe so, but I don’t care,” Saoirse said firmly. “I’ll still walk yeh to the flitter, wherever yeh put it. Just let me grab my oilcloth.”
A bit later, Saoirse heard the whine of the flitter’s rotors and they saw it set down on the muddy open ground between the two clan compounds, rain sheeting off the machine. “Are you sure you want to walk out in this?” Ichiko asked and Saoirse nodded wordlessly, grabbing her oilcloth from the peg near the door.
In her head, Saoirse was speaking desperately, her thoughts directed at the arracht and Kekeki. Listen to me. Yeh can’t hurt her; yeh have to let her leave and yeh have to let her come back, too. Yeh have no idea what the Terrans could do in response if you hurt Ichiko—they can attack from the sky, without having to come down here at all. Yeh also don’t know what that might mean to us here in the archipelago. Please, Kekeki. Yeh have to listen to me. This is terribly important. Just let her go . . .
There was no answer, at least not in words. But a sense of acceptance settled in Saoirse that at least shaved the sharp edges from her worry. “Let’s go, then,” Saoirse told Ichiko.
Outside, they could hear waves crashing against the rocky beach far below, and looking out over the landscape, neither the Sleeping Wolf nor the Stepstones could be seen as everything faded into mist, rain, and cloud perhaps a quarter mile from the shore. As they approached the flitter, the canopy lit up with welcome light and the gullwing doors lifted. “Get in,” Ichiko told Saoirse, then: “There’s no sense in you getting soaked further while we say goodbye.”
As Saoirse slid into the passenger seat, the doors closed, rain flowing over the canopy and the wind causing the flitter to rock slightly on its landing struts. The sound of the wind, at least, was muted. “Yer sure this can fly with the storm?” Saoirse shivered, even though the flitter was now pumping warmer air into the cabin.
“Don’t worry,” Ichiko told her. “AMI tells me everything’s still well within the safety limits. Look, I want to give you something . . .” She reached into the compartment between the seats and brought out a gray, palm-sized metal box: a thin, small rectangle. Saoirse could see an oval metal mesh in the center and a small blue circle to one side with the words CALL/ANSWER etched below it. She handed the device to Saoirse, along with a separate tiny earpiece. “I’m not really supposed to do this, but . . . This is a simple com-unit. If you ever need to talk to me, just press the call button; if I can’t answer, my AMI will take your message and let me know to call you back. Keep it in your pocket or hide it somewhere if you think that’s best. If you’re wearing the earpiece, you can hear me and talk back to me through that also. All you have to do is touch it with your finger first.”
Saoirse turned the device over in her hand. It felt amazingly light and small for everything Ichiko claimed it could do, but then the Terran technology always seemed impossible and unattainable, much like the Terrans themselves. The earpiece was small enough that it would be difficult for anyone to see it even if they looked, and her hair would cover it easily. “Thank you,” Saoirse said. “But why are yeh giving this to me?” She knew what she wanted Ichiko to answer; she also knew that it wasn’t how Ichiko would respond. She held the com-unit and earpiece in her open hand. She didn’t put it in her pocket, wondering if she really wanted to keep it. Mam won’t like this.
“We offered a com-unit to your mam; she wouldn’t take it. I thought you might be willing since you’re interested in seeing Earth. I even think it might be important to Captain Keshmiri’s decision to know more about the archipelago. If the Banríon won’t talk to us, then maybe you can speak for your people.” Ichiko was staring out through the windshield, not looking at Saoirse. “More than that, I’ve enjoyed being with you and talking with you. I’d like our conversations to continue. I thought maybe you’d like that, too.”
If she’d had any doubts, Ichiko’s last words had banished them; Saoirse found herself smiling. She closed her fingers around the com-unit and placed the earpiece in her left ear. “Aye, I’d like that very much.”
“Good. Then we’ll leave it at that.” Blue light flashed on one of Ichiko’s fingers. The door to the flitter alongside Saoirse’s seat lifted again, startling her, and the rotors began to whine. Ichiko smiled at Saoirse. “Now put the com-unit in your pocket so your mam doesn’t see it,” Ichiko said. “Remember, if you want to talk to me, just press the blue button or tap the earpiece. And if you hear a sequence of three beeps in your earpiece or if the com-unit button glows blue, that’s me calling you. To answer, same thing: either press the blue button, or tap the earpiece. Okay?”
Saoirse nodded. She slipped the com-unit into the pocket of her oilcloth. “Call me when yer back at First Base?” she asked. “I want to know yeh got there safe.”
“I will. I promise. We’ll talk soon.”
Saoirse nodded again. She stepped out of the flitter and ran through the compound gate to the door of the house, stopping there to wave at Ichiko. The Terran waved back; the flitter’s rotors shrilled as it lifted before flying over the compound toward the north.
Saoirse watched until she could no longer see the flitter through the rain. Kekeki, don’t you dare hurt her. Do you hear me?
She thought she heard laughter in answer.
* * *
“AMI, call Saoirse,” Ichiko said. “Audio only.” Below, the town of Dulcia was sliding pas
t the flitter, and the mountains surrounding Connor Pass were shrouded in cloud ahead.
A few moments later, Saoirse’s voice came over the flitter’s speakers. “Ichiko? Are yeh back already?” Her voice sounded strangely relieved, as if she’d been worried that Ichiko wouldn’t call.
“Almost,” Ichiko told her. “I’m just passing Dulcia and heading up toward First Base. I should be there shortly.”
“Yeh didn’t have . . .” Saoirse’s voice trailed off, and Ichiko started to wonder if the transmission had somehow been lost, then: “. . . any trouble?”
“No. The storm tossed the flitter around a bit.”
“No.” The answer came too quickly, accompanied by an unconvincing laugh. “I was just worried about the storm. That’s all.”
Ichiko didn’t need AMI to tell her that Saoirse was lying about that, and that spoke again to other things hidden behind the words. Better to ask when you’re face-to-face, not over a com-unit. There’s still time. At least, I hope so. “Well, everything’s fine, and I can see First Base ahead now. I’m going to take a shuttle back up to Odysseus, so I’ll be gone a few cycles. I’ll let you know when I’m back, and then we can talk about my coming out there again. In the meantime, if you need me, you know what to do. Just keep the com-unit with you, okay?”
“I’ll do that,” Saoirse said. “Umm, I really enjoyed yer visit, Ichiko.”
“The feeling’s mutual. Talk to you later.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“So am I. Bye, then. AMI, disconnect us.”
There was a click, a hiss of quick static, and Saoirse was gone. Ten minutes later, and the flitter was in the bay while Ichiko was going through the decontamination ritual, with Chava watching her through the glass window. “Enjoy your trip?” Chava asked.
“For the most part,” Ichiko answered. “The Inish don’t exactly greet Terrans with open arms.”
“Well, come on in. I have a lunch prepared for us if you’re hungry.”
“After days of just bio-shield paste? I’m absolutely dying for real food. Or even base food.”
Chava grinned at her as the inner door to the air lock swung open. “You’re not allowed to die. Even if you’ll only get base food. Oh, and Commander Mercado told me that you should call him as soon as you had a chance on your return.”
AMI commented.
“Fine,” Ichiko said to both of them. “I’m heading up to Odysseus on the next shuttle anyway.”
* * *
After having lunch with Chava and giving her the highlights of the visit to the archipelago—which caused Chava, on hearing of the near-crash, to tell her AMI to have the base techs do a full diagnostic on her flitter—Ichiko went to her quarters to view Luciano’s private message before she called him. The holo window opened and she saw him looking at her, sitting on the edge of his bed in his quarters. His face reflected the effects of what must have been a long and difficult day. He was wearing his uniform, but the top was unbuttoned, and his chin and cheeks showed the faint blue haze of stubble. His hands were folded on his lap, his thumbs restlessly prowling over each other as if he were nervous.
“Hey, Ichiko. Look, I’ve been thinking a lot about us, and the more I do, the more I hate the idea of ever losing you.” He looked down toward the floor as if listening to something only he could hear, and Ichiko wondered if his AMI was whispering lines to him. “I think you were right in telling me that we were both taking the comfortable and easy route, and I’m sorry for my part in that. You need to know that I promise to put more effort into our relationship in the future, and I hope you’re willing to do the same. Let’s talk as soon as you get back here. I’ll be looking forward to that.”
He stopped and leaned forward; Ichiko thought the holo would end. But he leaned back and smiled, erasing some of the pain in his face. “Here’s what I haven’t said and what I should have told you long before now. I love you, Ichiko. That’s what I’ve come to realize since we talked. I love you.”
And with that, the holo did end.
“Chikushō,” she said.
“I don’t know what to say. I haven’t thought about any of this at all.” She kept the rest to herself, wondering whether Luciano, given his position, might not be able retrieve her conversations with AMI. He’ll want me to say the same back to him, and I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I love him. I’m not certain I even know what love’s supposed to feel like. Ichiko took a long breath. “AMI, call Luciano.” Maybe he’ll be in a meeting where he can’t be interrupted, and I can just leave a message for him . . .
A window opened on the wall opposite Ichiko’s bed. Luciano beamed at her. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to call. My AMI told me you were back at First Base well over an hour ago.”
“I was starving after having nothing but shield paste to eat. Lieutenant Bishara had made lunch for us, so I took the time to eat.”
“Can’t say I blame you. That stuff tastes like pulped paper soaked in bouillon. I had to eat nothing but shield paste for two solid weeks back in training—it might keep you alive, but you eventually wish it hadn’t.” He laughed at his joke, then looked at her from under lowered brows. “You got my private message?”
Right to it, then . . . “Yes, I did.” Not sure what else to say, she hesitated.
“And?” he said into the awkward silence.
“I appreciate your honesty and willingness to be open, Luciano. I . . . I just wish we’d both tried that months ago.” She could see the disappointment crawl over his face, and she hurried into the rest before he could respond. “I was honestly moved by what you said. Truly. I wish—” She stopped, then rushed to finish. “I wish I could say the same words you said back to you. I think . . . no, I know I could have, earlier in our relationship. But right now, I can’t. Not without lying to you. That doesn’t mean I’ll never say those words, only that I’m still trying to figure out how I feel. I’m sorry, Luciano. I don’t want to hurt you, but I also don’t want to be less than honest. Especially now, when we’re both trying to sort things out between ourselves.”
She took a deep breath as she finished, watching Luciano carefully. His hands had left his lap, his arms now crossed defensively over his chest. “So you’re telling me it’s over.”
She shook her head, hurrying into her answer. “No, I’m not saying that. Not at all. I’m saying that I still need more time and space to think—and believe me, I’ll be taking into account what you told me in that message. Our relationship has meant a lot to me, Luciano. What we had and what we have isn’t something I can forget or something I can just throw away. So no: it’s not over. It’s just . . . ‘on hold’ at the moment.”
His lips pressed together. “I suppose that’ll have to do. You’re coming back up to Odysseus?”
She nodded. “On the next shuttle. I have a report to give to Nagasi about my trip to the archipelago. I think you’ll find it interesting as well. I’ll tell you more when I get up there.”
“I’ll look forward to it. Maybe we could have dinner together?”
She managed a smile. You can’t say no. Not right now. “Absolutely. It’s a date.”
His hands dropped back to his lap. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow evening, then. My quarters at 19:30?”
“19:30. Got it. AMI will remind me.”
Luciano nodded. “Sleep well, Ichiko—and think about what I said. I do love you.”
>
With that, the portal winked out.
“Chikushō,” Ichiko said again.
The Seeds Of Unspoken Secrets
ANY CHANCE I CAN get my AMI fixed now?” Ichiko asked Nagasi, who shook his head in reply.
“Nope. In fact, from what I understand, the issues with the AMI system haven’t gotten better; they’ve worsened. Several crew members have been complaining, and the techs still haven’t figured out why any of this is happening. Until they do, no changes are allowed to be made.” Nagasi’s Nigerian accent seemed more prominent than usual, or maybe it was because she’d become too used to the Inish accent over the last few days. As usual, he was wearing an unbuttoned lab coat over his uniform. “So how was your adventure with the Inish?” he asked her. “Come on into my office. When your AMI told me you were on the way, I made tea.”
She could smell the tea as she entered the office. The tea service, replete with finger sandwiches and scones, was already on his desk. He waved Ichiko to the chair in front of the desk before taking his own seat. “Go on,” he told her, motioning toward the tray. “I’ve already started.” He lifted his own mug—which smelled of coffee, not tea—in salute and sipped.
Ichiko poured herself a mug from the pot on the tray and took one of the finger sandwiches. “The archipelago was certainly interesting,” she said after taking a bite and swallowing. “But the place and their culture deserve more study. I think we’re missing something important with them.”
Nagasi’s eyebrows lifted in invitation; Ichiko told him about the flight over to Great Inish and the near failure of the flitter; the way the Inish shunned technology; how their society differed from that of the Mainlanders; the odd conversation she’d had with Saoirse about the arracht they called Kekeki. “There’s something more they’re hiding or aren’t willing to tell me, I’m certain of it,” Ichiko said finally. “The Inish and Mainlanders essentially had a war over the arracht. I’ve read and listened to everything the Mainlanders have to say about the arracht, but it’s all jumbled and half the time they’re giving me obvious tall tales that have passed through too many generations to be reliable. The Inish certainly know far more about the arracht than the Mainlanders, but for whatever reason they’re reluctant to talk.”