The Memory Thief

by Sarina Dorie

  I supposed that had to do with the limited amount of time we were expected to stay. Nine more days and she was supposed to teach me all the self-confidence and skills that their warriors possessed.

  Nipa said, “Will you permit me to show you ways to get out of holds and locks? I think you will find them less difficult in your gaiyojin attire.”

  He was gentler than Tomomi. With every move, he showed me by example on himself first. He placed my arms around his waist, pinning his arms to the sides.

  “I think I remember you saying you would save your deception for the training field,” I said. “Is this how you convince young ladies to embrace you?”

  He laughed. “Just so. Now pay attention so you will understand when I do this to you.”

  If Meriwether had seen us, I was certain he would have fled in vexation. As it was, Nipa and I were both so bundled up, there was no threat of intimacy in the moves. We practiced until I shivered with cold.

  He tugged on my long, gold braid and took me in to warm myself before the fire in his personal chamber. In the bright afternoon light I could fully see the size of his room. The hearth was huge compared to the one in my room. He placed a log on the glowing embers.

  Crude sculptures made of clay decorated the top of an open cupboard. They looked like animals made by children. I hadn’t noticed them in the morning shadows. The mural of the jungle was so much like what I had once experienced, though perhaps more idealized, like my sister’s drawings.

  He closed the hide curtain to keep the draft out, returning the room to gloom once again. He crouched to stoke the fire. It would have been practical to change out of my petticoats and skirts, but I had no extra dresses to wear and I didn’t think I could handle hearing about my lack of proper attire today.

  I scooted closer to the fire. Nipa sat beside me and stroked stray strands of hair from my face. The motion was soothing and made me drowsy.

  I nodded to the mural. “Did my sister paint your wall?”

  “She designed it. She only painted part of it. I asked her to remind me of summer. It is interesting to see how my world looked in her eyes.”

  I smiled at that. She was always good at seeing details I had missed. “When will I see Faith?”

  “When the snow starts to melt and the storm has passed. I imagine a few days. I should show you some of the weavings on the walls of the great hall that she designed for others to weave. We have a larger mural outside as well. I will take you on a tour of the cliff palace and show you all our art. Some of it is left from the time of our founders.”

  “Tell me about my sister.”

  I was glad for the cheery chatter, as I was too exhausted to speak. I leaned my head against his shoulder. Drowsiness tugged at my eyes. I yawned.

  I opened my eyes, not realizing I’d closed them. I found myself lying under a furry, purple blanket. Nipa still sat staring into the fire, stroking my hair. For all the grappling he and I had done earlier, this simple gesture held far more intimacy. He smiled, seeing me awake and leaned closer.

  Being well practiced at ruining romantic moments, I sat up and patted my skirts. The half that had been facing the fire was warm and dry.

  “Are you done with your nap? Your not-husband will want you to teach waltzes with him again.”

  It was too cold to go outside to the children’s courtyard, but I didn’t want to complain. Large flakes of snow drifted down and the brightness of the world hurt my eyes after the respite indoors. We played with the children and adults who were curious and wished to join in. The captain moved around more easily today and Charbonneau even joined in the games with Meriwether.

  We were all shivering with cold by the time Nipa said, “Come. It is time to warm yourselves indoors. My sister will entertain you with more of our simple, savage ways.” He winked at me. “Make sure you use those exact words in your translation.”

  We sat in a small room warmed with an immense fire. I would have liked to dry my skirts by the fire, but I expected I would have to do so after we were done eating at the low table.

  A young woman played a wooden flute in the other corner. Sumiko carried in a pot of tea. I was relieved she wore a blue attush, similar to my bedtime robe, under her layers of furs. I hated the idea of the captain ogling her as he had before.

  Nipa sat by my side at the low table. Sumiko served us tea and snacks, her hands dancing in the air like nose birds as they fluttered in a ritualistic choreography. Another young woman came in who performed on another musical instrument as we ate.

  “How splendid you have such accomplished young ladies,” Meriwether said.

  “I wish we had a way to play our music for you,” I said.

  “If only there were a pianoforte for Felicity, she could show you how accomplished our young ladies are as well.” Meriwether’s adoration shone clearly in his voice.

  I should have felt flattered—even if his admiration was unfounded. I had never played for him once.

  Charbonneau grumbled. “I suspect it is more than a mere lack of instrument that keeps Miss Earnshaw from playing.”

  I cringed. I hoped he wasn’t going to tell them how I drove away the tutors Lord Klark sent by throwing books at them. I’d only done that during my first two years in my guardian’s charge. I supposed I had been something of a wild thing back then. My lack of gratitude that Lord Klark should try to raise me with the same advantages of his own daughters embarrassed me. He could have had me committed to an asylum for some of my behavior, especially after the fit I’d had when the history of the galaxy teacher told me there was no such thing as living Jomon. The only tutor I’d tolerated was the pianoforte teacher because he let me stare out the portal window at the endless expanse of stars while he played.

  Meriwether looked from me to his manservant in confusion. “Miss Earnshaw did study music.”

  “Indeed, and singing and painting. Or your father paid for the tutors to try to teach her anyway.” Charbonneau scowled, looking unusually sullen. He must have caught Meriwether’s jaw hanging open in dismay. “Excuse me, Master Meriwether. I apologize for speaking so freely. I must be overcome with fatigue after watching all that pebble throwing. I meant no disrespect upon your intended.” He scratched at a raw, red rash on his wrist. I would have inquired of his injury, but I was in no mood to be kind after his slight.

  Apparently I wasn’t the only one to note the way Charbonneau apologized to Meriwether but not to me. Nipa leaned forward. “Why do you let them talk to you this way?”

  Now I felt doubly humiliated. “This is the manner of the gaiyojin. Women are expected to be quiet and well-behaved. Already they think I speak out more than I should.” Between my mother’s independent, American ways and the influence of too much freedom with my mouth as a youth, I was ruined for polite, British society.

  Captain Ford slapped Meriwether on the back. “Tis not an important matter how accomplished a lady is if she doesn’t have what’s important.” He winked and laughed at Meriwether’s complete dismay.

  I didn’t want to know what he thought was important.

  Nipa nodded to the captain. “This is what I mean. You are like a caged bird, in body and soul. Are women only meant to be a man’s object of pleasure? How can you tolerate it?” His voice rose in vehemence. “Why do your women not club these men over their heads?”

  “Men are bigger and stronger than most women,” I argued. “British scientists claim men’s minds are the more intelligent.” After all, anyone—even a dim-witted young lady—could play the pianoforte, take up painting, or fill her hours with embroidery, but only men could handle the logic and complex mathematical equations needed for space flight, improve upon laser cannon designs, manage money, and other such “important matters.” I wondered if I had lived in the United Worlds of America, would I have been taught otherwise, or was my mother a rarity there as well?

  Nipa’s voice rose again. “Are there not as many women as men in your world? How is it they do not unite together and p
rove themselves to these baka? Is this what you live with every day on other worlds? Is this what you look forward to? Why do your women not choose to leave their own worlds and colonize another?”

  My blood boiled in my veins. “Mayhap first world colonists people attack all the off-worlders who try to settle on the planets they go to.”

  Nipa gestured with his hand, spilling his tea across the table. “Or is it that you—”

  “Silence!” Sumiko shouted. It was then I noticed Meriwether’s wide-eyed stare, the captain’s smug smile, and Charbonneau’s even grumpier expression.

  Sumiko lifted her chin in challenge, though her voice was quiet and cloying. “You will be polite and not insult our guests, big brother. Not every gaiyojin is bad. After taking a foreign bride, you would do well not to insult her people.”

  Captain Ford cleared his throat. “She’s upset them, hasn’t she? I knew it would be folly to have a woman translator.”

  I shook with rage by that point. With the delicate grace of a lady, I lifted my tea cup and splashed it in the captain’s face. I picked up my petticoats and left.

  Sumiko’s voice whispered behind me. “Leave her be.”

  I walked off my anger, a trick I had learned long ago on the space station. There were servant tunnels, not just in Lord Klark’s estate, but for miles through the rest of the station. In some places on the station the gravity was heavy and oppressive compared to Planet 157, though the areas where laborers carried carts and robo-butlers traversed with heavy loads felt closer to what I was used to. Maidservants and space station engineers hugged the other side of the wall as I passed, quite aware of my temper as an American and a reputedly mentally unstable young lady.

  I walked without seeing in the cliff palace, slowing as my black mood calmed. I wandered the cliff palace for hours. I didn’t know where anything was and the dark hallways were nigh indistinguishable from one another. Eventually, I wanted to sit someplace warm and rest. I peeled back a hide door covering, hoping to find sanctuary in an empty room. Instead I got an eyeful of a man’s bare behind as he mounted a woman I presumed to be his wife and she moaned in pleasure. I quickly dropped the skin and backed away. In hindsight, I should have listened for the sound of grunts before entering.

  When I built up the courage to try another room, I waited outside for a long moment lest I stumble upon more carnal acts. The room was empty of people. It looked well lived in, with tools, toys, clothes and ornate carvings on shelves. I stole over to the embers, stirred up the coals with a stick and warmed my hands.

  One would have thought the space station to be a treat after my time with the Jomon. Lord Klark had generously showered me with gifts and spared no expense on gowns and jewelry. Other young women in my situation without family or home might have become maids or ladies’ companions or some other sort of servant. Yet Lord Klark had treated me like another daughter—perhaps better than he treated his own daughters—as they did little to try his patience.

  Despite Lord Klark’s kindness, I had hated every moment living on the station. True, I hadn’t wanted to be on the Jomon world, not after what had happened. But I didn’t want to be stuck on a space station where there was neither natural sunlight above, nor earth under my feet. I didn’t want to live in a society where I was forced to be laced in corsets every single day and I was constantly chided for almost every word that came out of my mouth. Even if I had escaped to a United Worlds of America colony, I doubted my situation would be much improved.

  I had no home, no family, and no real friends. The fact that I had an inheritance was relatively new news, but even so, it mattered little when I had no say over my own money, and Lord Klark was quite adamant that I shouldn’t leave his care. Over the years I had written my grandparents several times, hoping they might condescend to meet me, but my mother’s elopement with my father had surely tainted their view of me. Just as they had disowned my mother, they apparently had abandoned me as well. I untucked my father’s pocket watch from my skirts and smoothed my fingers over the metal exterior.

  I was back on Planet 157, feeling no more at home than I had on the space station. I hated the feeling of being caught in the middle, not knowing where I belonged.

  The sky grew dark outside the window. My introspection was brought to a close when a young mother walked into the living quarters with her children, gasping when she saw me.

  I hurriedly stood and bowed. “I apologize. I was lost and cold.”

  She bowed, keeping her eyes low. “Please sit. Let me put another log on the fire and I will make you tea.” She busied herself with closing the hide curtains over the windows and making tea.

  She unrolled a ration of fish jerky and handed it to me. “You missed supper,” she said. “You must be hungry.”

  “Sumimasen,” I said, a word that had no exact translation in English but meant, “I’m sorry, thank you and excuse me,” all wrapped into one.

  She bowed again to me, her tone formal and polite. “Tell me, does Nipa know where you are?”

  “Well, um, I don’t even know where I am. I just . . . I just needed a break.”

  She bowed her head again. The children stared openly. One looked about three, the other six. The woman turned the eldest of her children to face the door and pushed him toward it. “Go tell Nipa the star woman is here.”

  I cleared my throat. “Were they angry with me? For disappearing?”

  She set a kettle on a kind of gridiron over the hearth. “They?”

  “Sumiko-san and Nipa.”

  She shook her head. “No. They said nothing of your absence at the mealtime. Only, the star man Nipa looked . . . worried.”

  Indeed, that would be Meriwether.

  She poured me a cup of green tea that smelled of ume blossoms and warm weather. I held the cup in my hands, blowing on it to cool. When she raised an eyebrow, I remembered that blowing on food and drink was considered rude and I stopped.

  “If it wouldn’t be an imposition, please tell me about the stars,” the young woman said.

  The three-year-old wandered over and plopped herself in my lap.

  “So sorry,” the woman said and reached for her child.

  “She’s fine. I don’t mind.” I patted the little girl’s mess of hair.

  Her mother scooped her up anyway. “Please tell your story.”

  “Well, I live in a kind of palace in the stars. It’s as big as the mountains and sits in space in a province that is well traversed as a point of trade. Everywhere in the palace are magic machines that make food hot, or cold, or cook the food and stir it so you don’t have to. We have plumbing, electricity, marvelous foods and incredible technology. There are automatons that move like magic, which weave and dye cloth so that we don’t have to. We have no chiramantep, but we have a contraption that we made which serves the same purpose to carry us from point to point.”

  The woman’s eyes grew wide. “People do not weave? How sad. I would miss it.”

  I smiled at that. “There are also many good things. Few people grow ill on the space station, and if a child is born ugly or disfigured, medicine can fix that. There is more than enough food for everyone. Ladies don’t have to work or practice fighting with sticks.” Yet it seemed I wanted to do these things anyway.

  Nipa and another man entered the room, followed by the little boy. From the way the stranger looked at the woman with warmth and the child ran up to him, I assumed he was her husband.

  The woman bowed to Nipa. “Will you join us for tea?”

  He dipped his head. “I would be honored.” He kneeled beside me. “Thank you for keeping my Felicity-chan warm and safe.”

  He exchanged niceties with the couple. I blew on my tea and sipped it.

  One side of Nipa’s mouth turned up in a smile as he turned to me. He spoke in English. “I think your not-husband would murder me if I didn’t ensure your safe keeping. I might think him a knave, but his one good quality seems to be that he cares about your welfare. He was beside himse
lf with worry.”

  I set down my empty cup. “I’m sorry. I just needed—”

  “Please. Don’t apologize. You owe me no explanation. You are allowed free rein of the cliff palace. I told him no one would harm you here.” His tone wasn’t angry when he spoke of my absence. If anything he sounded sincere. He stood and extended a hand to help me to my feet. The man and woman bowed and Nipa did the same. Remembering myself, I hastily added my own bow. I must have been too tired by that point to remember politeness.

  He parted the curtains of the door as he exited and held it to the side as I ducked under. I shivered in the chill of the dark hallway. He tucked my hand under his arm. “Felicity-chan, if any apology is due it is from me. I . . . shouldn’t have let my anger carry me away. That is not the quality of a good leader.”

  “Oh—I, well, thank you, Hoku.”

  I couldn’t see anything in the darkness save cracks of light coming from under the coverings of doors. He stopped. I waited, sensing he was about to say more. Instead he hugged me to him. He held me against his chest and stroked my hair. Even through my corset and layers over it, I felt the warmth of his hand against my back. I relaxed when I realized that was all he meant to do in this less than private hallway.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I will endeavor not to insult your people.”

  I nodded. “Apology accepted.”

  “So formal.” He laughed. He held me away from him. His hands on my waist shifted. “Ah, you wear your metal cage, ne?”

  His words reminded me of the sensibilities expected of me. I stepped back.

  “To your room. You must be hungry.” He found my hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm.

  No doubt my grumbling belly had given me away.

  A bowl of broth waited for me, along with fish cakes and yam noodles. Nipa bowed. “I will take my leave so you may sup. Sumiko-chan should be along shortly.”

  I bowed. I enjoyed the fish cakes, and the brothy soup was more to my liking than breakfast had been. I supposed the dried ume fruit was meant to be my dessert. I cleaned my teeth with the chewing stick and washed my face while I waited for Sumiko. When she still didn’t come, I undressed down to my corset and chemise. I tried to unlace the corset myself but it was impossible. Unfastening the hooks at the front meant the corset had to have enough give to push the clasps closer together before unhooking it. The corset was so snugly laced there was no give. Nonetheless, I still tried.