The Memory Thief

by Sarina Dorie

  “Not at all. If anything, she blames herself for not protecting you. But those are matters best shared between sisters, and it is not my place to speak for her. I wish to tell you about her accomplishments. It took her a long time to figure out where she fit amongst the survivors of the Jomon. Much of her identity for so long was based on her living in your shadow. When she came to the Tanukijin, she was lost and had no idea how to be herself without being an outsider.”

  It broke my heart to imagine my fragile, little sister struggling on her own. She had never been independent. She had always needed me.

  “Faith-chan, ano, Faith-san was very shy and quiet.” He stumbled over the honorific and I wondered why. Did he think of her as a child because she was an off-worlder? Did he know her well and that allowed him to use a familiar title? I puzzled over it as he went on.

  “It was hard for the Tanukijin to get to know Faith-san. After a time, her hands came to speak for her when her words weren’t forthcoming. She came to be known for her artistry, not only in drawing and painting, but she sketched designs for weavers and sculptors. One time, a woman from the Isepojin clan—back when there was still a tribe of Isepojin in the south—came all the way from the mountains to see if Faith would design the tattoos for her arms. She wanted Faith-san to create something that represented the trials she had faced as a woman, and she thought your sister to be the only artist worth consulting. Now all the women go to Faith-san for her counsel in tattoos. And when there are matters of great importance regarding the gaiyojin colonists or ships, she is the first that my tribe and smaller groups go to for advice.”

  I smiled at the idea of my sister doing well enough to earn the respect and admiration of the Tanukijin.

  “And her children? Her husband?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “She has no children.”

  I crossed my arms, letting the blanket fall from my shoulders. “I’m aware her daughter’s name is Michi.”

  A furrow creased between his brows. “Who told you that?”

  My voice rose. “Why is it is such a secret? Why won’t people tell me about her?”

  “Faith-san doesn’t have a daughter.” The warmth in his voice hardened. “You will learn about your sister’s life here when she speaks with you herself.”

  “When will that be? Where is she now? You said you would send word to her and she would come.”

  “You must have patience.”

  “You are avoiding answering me!”

  “Yes, because I don’t have an answer.” His voice rose now too. “How am I supposed to save face when you demand an answer and I have none to give? I have sent for her. That is all I can tell you. I feel shame there isn’t more that I can tell you about her. Do you doubt that I am being insincere when I tell you this?”

  From the wounded expression on his face, I didn’t doubt my question caused him pain. There was so much more to the mystery of my sister that I didn’t understand.

  The fourth day passed much as the previous day. In the morning, I had my training while dressed in the native style of clothes. This time Tomomi Sensei taught me hand-to-hand combat. In the afternoon, I was dressed like a lady again with Sumiko’s assistance so that I could teach games and waltzing to the Tanukijin. Meriwether was a better teacher than I, and he hummed the tune as he instructed the curious youths who wanted to learn. In the evening, Tomomi Sensei taught me to focus my thoughts and clear my mind. When I said I couldn’t clear my mind with the way I fretted for my sister, she only grunted. I didn’t get as many smacks in the arm, so I suspected I was improving. Nipa joined me in my room again afterward.

  “Tell me another happy memory,” he asked.

  My other happy memories involved Taishi. I didn’t want to talk about him. Certainly I had memories with my sister, but many of them also included Taishi in some way.

  “Perhaps you are tired and cannot think of something at the moment. Shall I share with you instead?” Nipa asked.

  I nodded.

  He wrapped the blanket around our shoulders. I didn’t move away when he left his arm on my shoulder. He held the blankets close around us to keep the heat in. My heart raced at the idea of being so near a man unchaperoned. The logical part of my brain knew what he was doing; each night he made sure we knew each other a little more and that I learned to trust him.

  This was practical, I told myself. My trepidation had nothing to do with the fact that he was handsome, or I enjoyed his humor. It most certainly couldn’t be because I enjoyed spending time with him. I was betrothed to Meriwether. That was real. This tsuma no kokan was but a temporary bond, and I would do well to remember the British citizens of the New Campton Manor Station would see it as scandalous if they found out I had compromised myself in this way. I was fortunate Meriwether trusted me.

  Nipa rubbed his shorn hair absently. “My favorite memories are of my wife. I think all my happy memories were of her. It was not love at first sight, but love at second sight. I had known her for many years and she was a dear friend.” The calm lullaby-like tone of his voice calmed my nerves. I found myself leaning my head against his shoulder as the tension released from my aching muscles. “After knowing her for a time, one day I saw her differently. It was a slow kind of love, like the blossoms on the sweet nut tree. They open gradually and they stay as fragrant blossoms so long you don’t notice the green fruit budding underneath. The flower lasts for months, and then suddenly the petals fall off in the wind and a ripe fruit is there with the sweet nut inside.”

  I liked this better than Meriwether’s love at first sight, which I suspected was the love of an idea. He wanted an exotic princess raised by savages whose heart he could tame for the romance of it. I knew as much from reading his diary, something he’d be mortified to know I’d done. Later I’d felt guilty about it.

  I imagined Nipa growing up with a girl in his village and slowly growing to love her more and more with time. Perhaps I liked this idea because it was so similar to my own experience with my first love.

  I touched his hand holding the blankets closed. He released it to lace his fingers through mine. “I loved her for her strength. What might have made one child cry, drove her to anger—and then to action. She was different from the other girls—and she was so different from me. She spoke her mind in ways I could not and brought out opinions in me when I thought I had none. She was more generous than I was, and I wanted to be what she was and possess the qualities she had. I think she taught me how to be a better leader and how to be clever enough to be a leader to outwit my foes.”

  “Hoku Nipa,” I said. “What happened to her?”

  “That is not a happy memory.” He paused so long I thought he meant not to answer but he continued. “So many bad things happened when the gaiyojin came. First it was disease. Then they attacked our tribes when they came together to meet.”

  I interrupted, “Lord Klark told me the natives attacked during the meeting. I assumed it was the dragon clan.”

  Nipa snorted. “It was the gaiyojin who tore apart the mountains and flattened them. They destroyed the jungle and diverted the river for their homesteads. Much of our livelihood from the land disappeared. We experienced famine and drought. The last blow to us was the flying machine that changed the shape of the earth. It caused great clouds of dust to rise and linger in the sky. Our seasons changed. Tribes from the north migrated south where the weather was still tolerable. Only because many tribes became one with the Tanukijin and we knew the ways of the mountains and cold could we survive.

  “With every hardship my people experienced, my wife was at my side, keeping me strong. It was hard for her too. Members from both our families died. She endured with me, but over time she grew more and more depressed. It was after she had our baby that she became . . .” His voice cracked and he swallowed. “Became ill.”

  He turned away from the firelight. It was too late. I’d already seen the tears. I crawled in front of him and wrapped my arms around his neck and enveloped him in
the blanket. He slipped his arms around me.

  My heart felt as though it were breaking all over again. Not for him, but for my own sorrows, for having lost those I loved. I kissed the wet streaks on his cheeks, wishing someone would kiss away my sorrows. I remembered my faux pas too late.

  Jomon did not kiss.

  Reluctantly, he pushed my shoulders back. “This is too much closeness right now. I do not want you to think I intend to harm your virtue. And at this moment, I cannot stand for you to see mine.”

  I didn’t think he quite grasped the meaning of the word. I suspected he meant vulnerability, but I didn’t correct him.

  He cleared his throat. “I must be a good husband and stop thinking of my sorrows and think of yours. Tomorrow I will do something I have been dreading. In order to help you with the problem of your memories, I will let you beat me with sticks on the practice field.”

  We both laughed at this joke.

  Chapter Eleven

  There is a small problem with your plan. The captain has informed me that the planet is already inhabited.

  —Mr. Foster, first mate, in a private message sent by hyperspeed mail to Lord Klark

  I woke to the sound of children giggling again, wondering if this would be my alarm clock during the next nine days. Nine days. . . . I touched the ticking pocket watch hidden under my blankets. Would this be enough time for me to revive reflections of memories? I didn’t want to leave until I understood what had happened during my past. And I most certainly wasn’t leaving until I saw Faith.

  I saw Sumiko for all of two minutes. She came in to dress me in my corset, explaining she would have no time to assist me later, and then fluttered off to her other duties. I instantly regretted my decision five minutes later, but there was no one to help me out of the corset by that point. My muscles ached from practicing with Tomomi Sensei the day before and the corset made no improvements to my condition. With the window open, letting in the diffused sunlight, I bundled in furs over my high-collared blouse.

  I took breakfast with Nipa, today pickled vegetables and jerky made of dried fish. He sat next to me rather than across from me, demonstrating how to eat the meal. I imitated the way he broke the fish into thin strips before chewing a piece. He nodded approvingly. In the silence of our chewing, I gazed at the mural of a summer jungle painted on his wall. I’d never seen Earth, but I imagined the jungles that had once existed must have been very similar.

  Nipa held up a pickled fruit with his hashi and offered it to me.

  I appreciated the way he had permitted me my privacy and didn’t insist on staying in my bed the night before even if my customs were alien to him. He made no rebuke that I chose clothes other than those he provided. If anything, I was the one vexed that he should always be wearing his tanuki mask.

  “Do you always wear your headdress during the day?” I asked. Even Taishi’s mother hadn’t worn her chiramantep headdress as much as this. I knew he was handsome from the glimpses I’d seen of his chiseled jaw and straight nose. By firelight he was winsome, but firelight made everyone look their best. If I was to know him, to trust him, I would have liked to see more than a mouth and chin by daylight.

  He set down his tea. “Only when I must be a leader for my people do I wear my tanuki eboshi. I cannot wear it when I sit in the onsen or sleep because I cannot be leader at those times.” His lips twitched into a devilish smile. “I am lucky it is not summer, for I would never wish to be leader. The eboshi is too warm.”

  I considered the times Taishi’s mother removed her ornamental belt and her blue headdress. She had said she didn’t wear it when she served in her role as mother. In their treehouse among family, she only dressed in her skirt and jewelry like the other women.

  “Must you be a leader in your own private chambers as well?” I stretched my neck, trying to loosen the aching muscles.

  He leaned forward. “I think you are trying to have a peek at my stunning face. Am I right?”

  My face flushed with heat.

  He laughed when I didn’t answer. “Your face turns a pretty pink when you are embarrassed.” He took my chin in his hands, angling my face toward him. His lips were mere inches from mine. “I cannot be tempted to remove my eboshi so easily. If I do, you will surely be like other young ladies and lose all sense when you gaze upon me. I shall not be a good leader if I have maidens throwing themselves at me. You will have to work much harder if you wish me to remove my attire.”

  I rolled my eyes. He was a little too confident for his own good. I’d always found Meriwether’s humility and modesty to be annoying. It wasn’t just experience he lacked, but self-assurance. Now I suspected I was seeing the other extreme. Even so, this was more enjoyable to laugh at.

  I wrenched my chin away and covered my mouth to hide my smile. “It seems that if you are to be a husband, you cannot be a leader at the same time. When you are in your private chambers with your many wives, which do you choose to be, leader or husband? How can I call you Hoku when you are dressed as a nipa?”

  “My many wives? You are so funny, Felicity-san.” He leaned back and laughed. “I think you are right.” He tapped one of the horns on the headdress. “These horns would get in the way of intimate time spent with my many wives. If it is your wish for me to be a husband in my private chamber, then I will let you remove my attire.”

  I shook my head. “I have no desire to remove your clothes. Only your eboshi.” I raised a hand, hesitating when I saw the twinkle in his eyes. He made no move to stop me.

  I grasped the horns and slid the headdress back. It was heavier than I had expected. I set it on my lap.

  The leather underneath the mask was smooth, but folds and creases from the underside had pressed lines into his cheekbones and nose. The weight of the horns left impressions on his forehead. He rubbed his hands over his face, which did little to alleviate the creases and only made his skin rosy.

  Even with the lines from the mask, he was ruggedly handsome. His wide jaw and lean face made him look so much more masculine than Meriwether’s soft, baby face or Taishi’s chubby cheeks. I had always favored the black eyes and high cheekbones of Jomon features. Even Nipa’s visage, so different from other men I had gazed upon previously, was beautiful. I doubted he was joking when he said women threw themselves at him.

  “Well, what do you think? Was it a mistake? Am I going to have one more woman attempt to rip off the rest of my clothes?” A touch of silver threaded through his short hair, something I hadn’t noticed in the firelight.

  I shook my head. “I can resist.”

  “How disappointing.” He sighed overdramatically. “I will have to wait another nine days for Tomomi Sensei to become my wife again so that she might fully undress me, ne?”

  I giggled at the ridiculousness of the idea. I handed him his headdress, which he replaced. His eyes lingered on my lips. It was unnerving he should stare so intently. I busied myself with tearing off another strip of jerky. I chewed, finding it especially tough.

  He refilled my cup from the pot. “It softens if you put it in the tea.”

  I soaked it. A minute later I chewed it. When I took a sip of tea I did my best not to make a face.

  He winked. “Of course, now you have fish-flavored tea.”

  I gulped it down anyway.

  “I wish we had something more palatable to offer you. I think you’re used to our summertime fruits and fresh meats. We’ve already used most of our stores of fruit and vegetable preserves. We can only forage between storms.”

  “It’s a good example of your hardships.” With modern technology, we had been fortunate in our ability to grow any food at any time on the temperature-controlled space station. “I’m sorry we’ve caused these changes to your world.”

  He took my hand. “You understand better than most gaiyojin.”

  The sensation of his thumb rubbing against the back of my hand distracted me from what else he said. I bethought of the way I had forgotten myself the night before and kiss
ed his wet cheeks. His arms had been warm and welcoming. I could easily have compromised myself if he had been any British citizen of the galaxy who would have read more into that kiss than it meant. At least, I told myself, it hadn’t been anything more than a way of comforting him.

  The room suddenly felt intolerably stuffy, even with a window open.

  After breakfast, Nipa hooked my hand through his arm, a gesture very much like a true gentleman. “I will escort you to your training,” he said.

  He watched me practice as Tomomi instructed me in the arts of self-defense. Immediately I noticed the way my corset restricted my movements. When I fell over into the snow, I couldn’t right myself without Tomomi’s help. My skirt was drafty and soon became soaked and heavy.

  The third time I fell over, she wouldn’t help me up.

  “You are a horrible pupil today. You move like something is wrong with you. What ails you?” She nodded to Nipa. “Has your husband had you too many times last night?”

  I shook my head. “No! It’s my corset. It’s hard to move in gaiyojin clothes.” I rolled over onto my side and pushed myself into a kneeling position.

  She shouted, drawing looks from the youth practicing in the distance. “Why have you need to concern yourself with gaijin clothes? Do you think you will be wearing anything at all during memory exchange? If I had my way we would be wrestling indoors where it is warm and we would have no need of clothes.” She very much looked like a wild woman with her thick hair blowing in the wind and her face contorted in rage.

  Nipa cleared his throat. His feet crunched over soft mounds of white. “Tomomi Sensei, I will finish Felicity-san’s instructions for the morning. Please entertain your husband.” They bowed to each other. She stomped off, muttering to herself.

  He lent me a hand to help me up. “Do not be angry with your teacher. She has been given the impossible task of instilling a lifetime of knowledge in you with only a few hours to practice a day for a few days.”