Vagabonds

by Hao Jingfang

  A gust carried invisible particles of sand across Luoying’s visor. The second wave of fliers had learned from the experience of the first and flew with more ease. The memory of their experience in the weightless gym of Maearth had returned to their bodies, and they fell back into old patterns: twisting, flexing, finding balance. The boys began a game of tag in the air while Chania zipped between them like a nimble celesta among strings and woodwinds. They seemed to have returned to those carefree nights between planets. Without the free play of those suspended days, they wouldn’t have been able to fly so well so quickly. Months later, the blood and air of freedom once again surrounded them.

  Against the undulating rim of the crater, light and shadow created a chiaroscuro of yellow and black.

  Luoying was still gazing at the sight, a bit stunned, when Anka appeared next to her.

  “Want to fly together?”

  As though inviting her to dance, Anka held out one hand and took a step back.

  She smiled. “Just a moment. I’m going to put on my costume.”

  The costume that Gielle had made for her had not been used since that disastrous performance. Luoying had held it up inside the mining ship, hesitating. In the end she put it on and carefully tied the sash, as well as the metallic filaments securing it to her wrists and ankles.

  By the time she walked back into the light, she was again the dancer. She gave Anka her hand and, with a gentle push, he sent her into the air.

  The moment she was off the ground, Luoying swayed a few times from side to side. The wind was light and fast, and the pressure sensors conveyed the constantly changing sensations to her body gently and intuitively. The wings were much larger than the last time she had tried them, and so at first her touch felt stiff. Gradually, as she grew used to the sensations, her movements became more fluid. She trusted herself to the air currents, letting the wind take the lead in the dance. Forgetting about directions, her body felt liberated.

  Anka was right behind Luoying, a bit off to the side. The buffer between them served as a guide. Luoying adjusted the direction of the wings and the angle of the propellers so that she followed his shoulders through the air. Every gesture and movement had to be completed deliberately, as though they were in some carefully choreographed slow-motion sequence, moving in sync. She felt safe and settled. With Anka and the wind on her back, she no longer felt anxious. Joy suffused her body, and she remembered her time on Earth, when she would turn off the lights after a practice session, swinging her limbs loosely about as though she were a puppet. Through the windows of the studio she would see the giant advertising displays on the skyscraper opposite, and a million bright lights glowed in the city, with her suspended among them.

  Dancing in the air had been her vision, and it was she who had suggested to Anka and the rest that, to control the wings, they didn’t need complicated programs or intensive computation; instead, they could rely on the human body’s instincts. Walking and dancing were skills etched into the body over eons of evolution, and they could control the wings with their muscles, the way real dragonflies did.

  The boot that Reini had fitted her with also helped. The neural feedback mechanism of the boot was adapted to connect the wings to the flier’s body, to amplify the movements.

  Dexterously, Luoying flew through the air. She squinted and allowed her mind to be filled with visions. She saw herself standing on an endless plain, buffeted by winds from all sides, and the sand that scraped against her skin was accompanied by laughter and joyous voices. In one gust of wind, she saw the smiles of the girls from her dance troupe back on Earth, dressed in elaborate, jewel-studded costumes and waving at her from the clouds. In another gust she heard the shouts of the girls who had shared that old house with her, draped in grass-woven outfits and holding ancient shields. With yet another gust she saw Gielle and Brenda sitting on nutshell-shaped kites and painting houses in the air, blushing as they cried in surprise. Luoying wanted to stop, to freeze the scenes, but the wind was too fast, and soon they were beyond the horizon.

  She seemed to sense groups of people in every current, living their own lives, but she didn’t seem to belong to any of them. She felt the wind coming at her from every direction and leaving her for every quarter of the compass, but she remained rooted in place, unable to ride along on any of the winds. She belonged to none of them and didn’t know how to gather others to her. She was no longer someone who could be carried away by the wind. The harder the winds blew, the less inclined she was to go with them. She wanted to fly, but only alone.

  She luxuriated in the slowly slanting afternoon sun, twisting her wings to achieve the best angle in the air, feeling Anka keeping pace behind her, neither too far nor too near. She wanted to fly like this forever and never land.

  * * *

  “Someone’s coming!”

  The warning squawked in the headsets, as abrupt as an alarm.

  “Land immediately,” Runge commanded. “If you can return to the ship safely, do so. Otherwise, hide in the cliffs and we’ll come get you later.”

  Luoying didn’t have time to think. She and Anka immediately landed on a ledge jutting out of the cliff next to them and furled their wings.

  They hadn’t realized just how high they had flown—higher than any of the other groups. There was no time to get back to the ground. The ledge was in front of an abandoned cave, and they could still see signs of a collapsed staircase at one end. Sitting down on the ledge, they looked below. Mira and Sorin had landed at the mouth of another cave much lower down on the cliffside, while the others had successfully retreated to the mining ship, which was now slowly crawling toward a nook deep in the shadows at the foot of the cliff.

  Soon they saw a gigantic ground-effect vehicle peeking out from the narrow pass they had come through earlier. Silver-hulled and red-striped, a flame emblem glowing near the tip, it moved slowly, as though searching for something.

  “That’s … from my squadron,” said Anka.

  “Why is it here?” asked Luoying.

  Anka shook his head, his expression somber. Luoying was grateful that Runge had been so alert.

  SAND

  Hugging the rim, the big ship slowly patrolled inside the crater. Second by second, it approached their position.

  Anka and Luoying concealed themselves behind piles of loose rocks on the ledge. The big ship didn’t extend any visible probes, but they didn’t know if it had other sensors scanning the area. From where they were, it was impossible to see Runge’s mining ship. Hopefully he had managed to find some secluded hiding spot. They didn’t know why the big ship was here, but instinct told them that it was best to not be found.

  “Do you think it’s here to look for us?” asked Luoying.

  “I don’t know,” said Anka. “We slipped away from the city without triggering any alarms, so I don’t think this is meant for us.”

  Luoying nodded. “I agree. I can’t imagine they’d go to so much trouble for a bunch of teenagers.”

  “Well, I don’t know if that’s true,” said Anka.

  “Even if we’re found, they’ll just take us back, right? It’s no big deal.”

  “I just don’t know.”

  “We’ve had a very successful day,” said Luoying. “We flew; we saw the ruins. Even if we have to go back, I don’t mind.”

  “We don’t know what the ship is doing here. Most likely it has nothing to do with us. But it would be better if we aren’t found and can go back to the city on our own terms.”

  “All right. Let’s wait a bit.”

  The sun was low in the west, and the shadows on the cliffside grew deeper and sharper. The big ship made it most of the way around the crater without stopping as it passed directly below them. Continuing west, it stopped in the middle of the crater. An antenna extended out of the bow of the ship and swung around in a circle before retracting.

  The ship stayed still. For Luoying, leaning against Anka, the moment seemed to last forever.

  The
evening wind picked up. Loose sand, swept up in the gusts, struck the hull of the ship, the only movement in the crater.

  Finally the big ship began to move again. Slowly it departed the crater the way it had come. Luoying let out a sigh and relaxed. The westering sun shone on the stern of the ship, casting a long shadow ahead of the hull on the yellow sand, like a long, black sword probing over the ground.

  * * *

  The wind grew—not the warm rising currents of the afternoon, but the chaotic turbulence of the cooling air of nightfall.

  The swirling gusts, sweeping off the ground, filled the air with sand. Loose pebbles rolled along sloping surfaces, and sand scraped past their survival suits like streams of refugees escaping war. Red dust coated their visors. Shielding Luoying with his body, Anka guided her deeper inside the mouth of the cave. They crouched behind a pile of loose rubble. From time to time, a strong gust dislodged some pebbles from the top, and Anka would raise an arm protectively over Luoying’s head.

  Leaning against Anka’s shoulder, Luoying suddenly thought that her own great-grandmother probably felt just as protected and safe during that storm decades ago.

  * * *

  The longest half hour of Luoying’s life later, Runge’s voice crackled to life in their headsets.

  “Luoying, Anka, Mira, Sorin, report! Are you all right?”

  Anka jumped up. “Luoying and I are fine. Where are you?”

  “We went through a canyon and found a whole new world—never mind, I’ll give you the details later. We’re coming back to get you now. Can you land safely?”

  They leaned over the ledge and saw that the mining ship was swaying into view. In the twilight, the ship’s outline was blurred. Anka and Runge spoke over the comm link, making preparations for opening the airlock to welcome Anka and Luoying.

  Anka leaped down from the ledge and descended slowly toward the mining ship. Luoying took a deep breath and followed.

  All of a sudden she felt her body pelted by a torrent of sand. Before she could react, she found herself falling, out of control as she lost all sense of balance. Her vision was a blur, and she didn’t even have time to be scared.

  The next minute was all chaos: strong currents gripping her legs like invisible claws; red sand; clashing winds; massive turbulence; wings out of control; being thrown; sky where the ground was supposed to be and vice versa; the red cliffside looming into view; an arm grabbing her around the waist and letting go; someone holding her up; the sensation of two feet on solid ground and the instinctive tensing of muscles as her fingers found something to grab on to.

  By the time she finally recovered, Luoying found herself lying prone on a slope, hands tightly clutching protruding rocks. Her wings were hopelessly vibrating on her back. Next to her was Anka, crouching in a similar pose. Sand and gravel rolled past them in streams.

  STARS

  As sand flowed past her, Luoying dared not look up.

  The slope she was on wasn’t too steep, and her feet found purchase. She knew she could hold on for at least a while, though she didn’t know how much longer the wind whipping about her would last. Like all children born on Mars, she understood the danger of dust storms.

  She turned her head to the side and locked eyes with Anka, who nodded at her. His blue eyes were like the sea in the deepening twilight, and in their depths she saw serenity. Luoying snapped the switch that shut off the vibrating wings, waiting patiently for the storm to pass.

  “Can you hear me?” Anka’s voice crackled in her headset.

  Luoying nodded. Her throat was too dry for her to speak.

  “Look up and to your right,” said Anka. “See that large boulder? Do you think you can climb up to it?”

  Luoying looked where he was pointing, about twenty to thirty meters upslope. She squeezed her fingers to keep herself calm and strained to smile at Anka. “No problem.”

  Anka got up first and then helped her up. Slowly they made their way toward the boulder, deliberate step by deliberate step. Luoying made sure that three of her limbs were in contact with the side of the mountain at all times. Anka was to her left and below, not touching her, but ready to catch her if she should fall. The short climb took them a very long time. Finally, Anka climbed onto the boulder—which turned out to be another ledge—and reached down to help her up.

  The two rested for a while to catch their breath. Luoying cleared her throat and asked, “I guess we’re stuck up here?”

  Anka pointed to the swirling sand below them. “It’s too late in the day now. The wind has shifted to the wrong direction. We’ll die if we try to jump down.”

  “What should we do?”

  “Let’s discuss it with Runge.”

  Luoying leaned over the edge of the platform. The mining ship remained where it was at the bottom of the crater. The two of them, however, had been carried to the east, closer to the pass. From this distance, the mining ship reminded her of a clumsy turtle crawling slowly toward them. The dust storm hung between them like a translucent orange curtain, and the temperature was plunging. They were about forty meters above the crater floor, too high to jump. Anka screamed into the mic, hoping that the crew of the ship could see them. The wireless system they used was extremely primitive, with a range of under a hundred meters. At first they received no answer. Only when the mining ship was directly below them did Runge’s voice emerge from the headset.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, but we’re probably stuck here for the night.” Anka got to the point right away.

  “How much oxygen do you have left?”

  Anka glanced at the display on the oxygen bottle. “Should be enough to last until noon tomorrow.”

  “Are you safe where you are?”

  “Pretty safe. I took a quick look around. Behind us is an abandoned cave that we can use as shelter.”

  “I’m afraid there’s no choice but to have you stay there for the night,” said Runge resignedly. “We’ll find a way to rescue you in the morning.”

  “We’ll be fine,” said Anka. “Why don’t you head back to the city? You can send a rescue team tomorrow morning.”

  “What’s the matter? Don’t you trust me?”

  Even through the headset Luoying could picture Runge’s grinning face.

  “I’d trust you with my life,” said Anka, also smiling.

  “Then don’t make ridiculous suggestions. We’ll wait right here tonight. If anything changes, call.”

  “Definitely.”

  “I’m really sorry about this,” said Luoying. “Now we all have to be out here the whole night because of me.”

  “I don’t want to go back anyway.” The speaker this time was Mira. “It’s not easy to get out here. I want to do more sightseeing.”

  “Mira!” said Luoying. “I’m glad you got back to the ship safely.”

  “I’m back … though not exactly safely.”

  “What happened?”

  “I twisted my ankle.”

  Runge broke in to explain. “He and Leon basically rolled down the slope. He’s lucky he didn’t break a leg.”

  “Did you get it taken care of?” asked Luoying anxiously.

  “I taped it,” said Mira, his voice easy and carefree. “I’ll be fine.”

  “It seems to be a pattern with you getting hurt every time we’re out,” said Anka, laughing. “Do you remember that time in Barcelona with the hot-air balloons?”

  Mira guffawed. “That wasn’t my fault! Who could have predicted a thunderstorm? Bad luck.”

  “We both fell, but only you broke a leg.”

  “I seem to recall you broke your leg in Tokyo, too.”

  “That’s not the same thing at all. The next time there’s an earthquake when you’re trying to take off, I want to see how you handle it.”

  “I can’t wait,” said Mira. “The next time we fly, we should do it at Olympus Mons. I’m sure I’ll fly higher than you.”

  “Listen to you! The tallest peak in the Solar Sys
tem is no joke.”

  “Who’s joking? I’ve been planning this. I’m going to fly through all the major sights of Mars. Valles Marineris is next. And also Hellas crater, probably a hundred times the size of this one.”

  “All right,” said Anka with a chuckle. “If you dare to go, I’ll be there with you.”

  Night fell. Luoying sat on the flat ledge, listening to Anka and Mira banter as the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the western rim. She drew up her knees and massaged her lower legs. The fall had hurt her kneecap and leg, and exhaustion sharpened the pain. Anka stayed busy even as he was chatting. He moved the rocks blocking the mouth of the cave out of the way until there was enough space for them to squeeze inside.

  The cave had probably been eroded out of the mountainside by wind. Here the cliff curled around, and the wind, deflected into a sharp curve, carved a smooth opening between the massive rocks. Luoying followed Anka into the cave, where the faint starlight failed to penetrate the inky darkness. As Luoying felt her way along the cave wall, her fingers sensed the signs of human work. There were cubbies carved into the rock, as well as a long water basin dug along the foot of the wall. Her feet crunched over collapsed and broken furniture. The cave wall had been smoothed by tools, though it was nowhere as polished as the walls at home.

  To conserve their energy supply for the night, Anka had turned off the two-way wireless with the mining ship. He unfolded his wings and secured them at the mouth of the cave as a simple barrier. Then he sat down to modify the equipment.

  “It’s too dim in here,” he muttered as he tried to see the electric motor of the wings in the faint starlight. “This is harder than I expected …”