The Memory Thief

by Sarina Dorie

  I didn’t want to hurt Meriwether, but I had never wanted to marry him either. He was too much like a brother. More than that, he belonged to a different world than I did.

  Charbonneau picked up a long white root caked with dirt and tried to say the word for sore throat in Jomon.

  Captain Ford poked at a dripping icicle at the window and sighed. I had never seen him so sullen, nor free of the stench of alcohol. I wondered if someone had cut off his supply of spirits.

  I wandered closer. “What’s wrong, Captain? Still haven’t found the secret hiding place to the Jomon treasures?”

  He turned. His eyes were bloodshot and his usually jovial expression somber.

  “Are you well, Captain?” I asked. I prayed to my non-existent Jomon ancestors that no one knew what Nipa and I had been up to. But when I thought how lacking in discretion we had been on many nights—venturing out to his onsen while giggling in the corridors, not tying the door cover closed, and making far too much noise—I felt ill at ease.

  “I had a bit much too drink last night and believe I might have insulted one of the maidens here. Oh bollocks, I know I insulted her.”

  I blinked, startled by his admission. My own lack of propriety faded from my mind. I could hardly keep the anger veiled in my tone. “What, pray tell, did you do to insult her?”

  He stared out at the gray clouds above the cliffs. “I, uh, might have sat her on my lap and kissed her. Blast! You weren’t jesting when you said they don’t like that.”

  “Oh? What did she do about it?” Hopefully dropped some hot coals in his lap.

  “Everyone made a fuss and I apologized. I don’t think she understood what I said.” He grunted and I thought that was the end of his story, but he went on. “She came to me in my bedroom in the middle of the night. I thought she meant to show me there were no hard feelings.”

  Revulsion crept under my skin and made me shiver. How he could be so dense was impossible to understand. I hoped she had done something horrid to him.

  His voice lowered to a hoarse whisper. “It was the oddest thing. She slathered some chucky massage oil on my back and all of a sudden, I experienced some kind of drug-induced hallucination.

  “I wasn’t myself any more. I was this maiden—the one I’d kissed—living in a mud hut as a girl. Suddenly a bunch of white men like us came and killed my brothers and bashed my baby sister’s head in. They did unspeakable things to her—to me—I mean. Some of it involved . . . kissing.” He shuddered. “Every terror and loathing she felt, I felt. I was her and there was no separation between her and me. It made sense when I was experiencing the vision, but now it becomes jumbled up and I’m not sure if it was her, or me, they did these things to.

  “I saw death. I saw our terrascaping machines used for things they were never made for. I lived weeks, no—maybe months—of this young woman’s life as she was tortured and ill-used. The worst of it, I saw Captain Percival Cook, the first captain I’d served under—a man I had respected as a lad—at a sort of labor camp, raping girls who hardly looked as if they’d reached puberty and picking out slaves to sell on the black market.

  “The horrors in these visions lasted forever. In this dream, the Chiramantepjin tribe came and rescued the refugees. They killed our people and I actually didn’t feel angry about it. I was glad.” Tears spilled down his face. “That’s the memory exchange, isn’t it? Those weren’t hallucinations. They were real?”

  I chose my words carefully. “It is possible, but I didn’t think Jomon were permitted to exchange memories with someone who didn’t consent.”

  He snorted. “Oh, I consented, I just didn’t know what I was consenting to.”

  I wondered if that had been my undoing as well.

  “I tried to tell Miss Sumiko that, but there was a big fuss about it this morning and they dragged the woman off. I think they mean to hang that girl. I feel awful about it now.”

  Is that why they were in such a somber mood? The injustice of it swelled inside me. This girl didn’t deserve to be executed. She’d already been through enough. Without another word, I ran off to the counsel room. I threw back the curtains of the noren. Nipa sat with his sister and the elders in the stifling warmth. Both siblings wore tanuki headdresses.

  “Sumimasen,” I interrupted. I gave a curt bow before plunging on in Jomon. “Have I come too late? Have you already tried and executed that poor girl? It wasn’t her fault. Captain Ford needed to understand what the people here have gone through. He invited her to be intimate with him, though his form of intimacy differs from that of the memory exchange.”

  Nipa tilted his head to the side, studying me.

  Sumiko rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Felicity-san, what is it you speak of?”

  “I’m sure he deserved it.” I cringed at my words. I couldn’t help wondering if someone else felt I deserved the opposite—that my memories should be taken away. Was I a hypocrite?

  “The girl who gave Captain Ford her memories. He said she was dragged off to be executed. It’s not fair. She didn’t do anything that bad. I know it’s a taboo among your people, but . . . .”

  The elders muttered and shook their heads. I caught the words “impulsive” and “meddling.” At first I thought they meant the maiden—or even Captain Ford. It took a moment to realize they meant me.

  I opened my mouth to say more, but Nipa put up a hand to silence further words. “Akeme has been dealt with already. But be aware, her punishment was just. She was told she is not permitted to join in festivities for the following four days while your party is here, nor is she allowed any more contact with Captain Ford other than doing his laundry as her consequence.” He stood. A hint of a smile laced his lips. “I appreciate your concern. Shall I talk to you in private to reassure you?”

  Sumiko said a little too sweetly. “I am sure you would like another opportunity to spend time alone talking with your wife, but you have duties to perform, older brother, and I do not speak of husbandly duties. Sit.”

  Had a British woman spoken to a man in such a way, I was certain she would have been struck, but here no one acted as though it were out of place. The two elderly men nearest Sumiko cackled. Nipa himself laughed, though his face reddened under his mask. He looked from me to the elders, as if torn by which duty was more important.

  I realized my mistake, as well as the way I distracted him. I cleared my throat and bowed my head. “Sumimasen. I shall take my leave of you.” It was hard to say whose face was redder, mine or his.

  “I will go reassure your wife,” Sumiko said. She removed her headdress and gracefully rose. She linked her arm through mine and guided me from the room.

  Her cheeks were flushed, though I didn’t know if it was from anger or the warmth of the room.

  “I apologize,” I said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just thought she would be executed and—I suppose the captain was a little melodramatic. Sumimasen.”

  She led me down the drafty hallways to a balcony that overlooked the children playing in the courtyard.

  She patted my arm. “No harm is done. If anything, my brother will be sure to endlessly brag about your concern for the welfare of his people.” She rolled her eyes in a gesture I had often seen on my sister’s visage when she grew vexed with me. She glanced at me and smiled. “I am glad my brother is finally happy. He deserves someone like you.”

  I hugged my arms to me, chilled in the frosty air. Sumiko seemed unaffected. Out in the bright daylight her cheeks were crimson. She watched the children throwing snowballs below. My teeth chattered.

  I stared at the goosebumps on my bare arms. The black tattoos were vivid against my pale skin out here in the light. Yet the longer I stayed and dressed as the Jomon like I had long ago, the more I felt at home rather than out of place.

  Sumiko rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. Only one set of black lines decorated her arms.

  “Sumiko, why do you not have tattoos like many of the other women?” The double band on h
er wrists could have been mistaken as bracelets.

  “I do have tattoos. These mean I have come of age. It is a sign of maturity, a way to show I am old enough to marry.”

  Yes, Mama Shoko had told me it was the tradition to show I was a woman in this way if I wanted to marry. I had seen a few other girls with only the black parallel lines tattooed on their wrists, but hadn’t thought much about them. Sumiko must have been close to my age, so it seemed like her arms should look like mine. Yet age must not be the only consideration. There were also girls younger than she who sported the full sleeve of patterns from wrist to elbow like mine.

  “Is it impolite to ask why yours aren’t full like mine?”

  She leaned against the wall, looking tired. “The double bands at the top mean a woman is married.” She glanced at the parallel lines just below my elbows. “I will not marry because I do not wish to bring children into this world. I refuse to grow attached to children who will die of disease, nor can I let myself love a husband who will be killed defending our home as so many others have. To marry is to have hope, and I have none.” Her beatific smile remained in place as she said this. I only now realized how that smile was a mask, much more so than Nipa’s headdress.

  I stared at my own arms. A lattice of geometric designs in such a deep blue that it almost appeared black covered my skin. At the top were a second set of double bands. A prickle of memory surfaced in my mind before sinking again. I had intended to marry Taishi but I hadn’t. Or had I and just not remembered because those memories had been taken away?

  Surely this had to be the reason the woman in the onsen laughed at the idea I had never been with a man. And why Sumiko had laughed when she had chaperoned my first conversation with Nipa. Although I wasn’t sure if my tattoos had even been visible then.

  Sumiko rubbed at her temples as though her head hurt. “The patterns in between can represent many things. It can be filled with swirling patterns that represent trials in a woman’s life. Some women choose a decoration that represents children. The most popular of late has been geometric designs that ward off evil.”

  I studied my geometric designs. “I wanted to ward off evil?” Goosebumps rose where flurries of snow drifted down and touched my skin.

  She shrugged.

  “I’ve been married before, haven’t I?”

  She took in a sharp intake of breath, which turned into a cough. “I cannot say. You will have to draw your own conclusions from the evidence of your past, ne?” She bowed. “I beg leave of you. I have a headache and am unfit company.”

  I bowed in return and she left.

  My past was full of surprises. First my sister, then Taishi and now marriage. How did it relate? Even when Nipa helped me sieve through my almost memories of Taishi that night, it grew no more clear. My feelings for him had been of love and sorrow, but never suspicion and hatred. As for my sister, the reflections were more complicated.

  The flicker of firelight made shadows dance over his face. When Nipa kissed me, it took all my will to pull away. “What if I’m already married to Taishi?” I asked. “What then? I cannot kiss you and pretend I don’t feel guilt.”

  Nipa stroked my hair and tucked my head under his chin. He held me in the security of his arms as I grew drowsy. My last thought before I drifted off was whether Lord Klark had been wrong about what had happened.

  I was so wrapped up in my own problems, that I was caught off guard when Nipa woke me at dawn. “Felicity-chan, I need you to come with me. We have illness in our midst.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  At some future period, not very distant as measured by centuries, the civilized races of man will almost certainly exterminate and replace the savage races throughout the galaxy.

  —Charles Darwin, The Descent of the Species, 1854

  I sat before the sick child. A woman applied a compress of snow and herbs to his forehead. Her cheeks were rosy and sweat dotted her forehead despite the chill of the air. She bowed upon seeing us.

  I recognized the boy as one of the giggling children who had woken me many mornings with his friends. My heart dropped down to my stomach. He lay curled into a ball, moaning softly as he grabbed at his belly.

  “We did this? We brought sickness here?” I asked. “But we came vaccinated. We made sure none of our people were carriers.”

  “His parents died of a similar fever five days ago. It is possible it was due to their contact with traders.” Nipa bowed his head. “This boy is quarantined to stop the spread of the disease, but we don’t know how to proceed.”

  That lessened my worry, but not by much. I was no doctor, but I examined him as best I could. The fever, sore throat and headache might be attributed to anything. “Tell me of his parents’ conditions?”

  The fever, sore throat and vomiting could be sundry diseases. If they had scarlet fever, typhoid, or smallpox, then I was immune, though none of the people in this village were.

  “Who else has been exposed?”

  Nipa swallowed. “My sister helped nurse the mother and father in their ill health.”

  Her face had been flushed and she had complained of a headache the night before. Surely she had been in contact with the rest of the village.

  I looked at the old woman applying cloths to the boy’s forehead. “Can you keep this woman and boy quarantined? Can Sumiko room nearby should she fall ill? They should have someone who is resistant to gaiyojin illness to care for them. I can do that.”

  The first epidemic had been my fault.

  Taishi’s illness came on suddenly. We already had been living on the planet for over a year and a half. He had little exposure to off-worlders, other than Faith and me, for I still kept him a secret from my father. One might have expected him to become sick in that time if he was going to, but it was only when I introduced a new element that he took ill. As our romance blossomed and he allowed me to kiss him, I passed on sickness.

  Taishi said he was fine in the morning as he visited us in the valley riding chiramantep. I could tell right away he was tired from the dark circles under his eyes and his desire to sleep under a tree instead of swim, build mud huts, or tame animals. By afternoon he was feverish and vomiting. Being closer to our ship than the village, we half carried, half dragged him. The only reason he permitted us to take him there was because he was delirious.

  Wasn’t Father surprised to see us bring a native into our encampment? Dr. Smith was professional enough to take a blood sample and set to work despite my father’s ranting at us. The doctor immediately concluded influenza was the cause. He carried Taishi into the sick unit.

  “Why did you not tell me you had met savages?” my father demanded. “They could just as easily have given you disease as you did them. And that’s not taking into account that they might have been hostile to our presence.”

  Faith said in a small voice, “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

  That took the air out of my father’s vehemence. He sat between us girls and put an arm around Faith and me. “Oh, bother. I haven’t listened very well, have I? I’ve been wrapped up in everything else.”

  “It’s all right, Poppy,” Faith said. “Shoko Nipa tells us that as long as you learn from your mistakes, and don’t keep repeating them, it makes you a better person.”

  My father sighed. “And who, pray tell, is Shoko Nipa?”

  “Taishi’s mother. She’s one of the Chiramantepjin people. Nipa is the word for a great leader, like an empress. We call her Mama Shoko when she chooses to be a mother instead of a leader.”

  He jumped to his feet. “Good lord, he’s the leader’s son? I’m going to have an entire village of savages descend on us if I don’t do something about this.”

  By doing something, I thought he meant cure Taishi. What he meant was a mass of questions regarding the tribal people so he could look up the original colonists during the first age of space flight in his books and figure out which one Taishi’s people might be. When he came to the Jomon section,
he grunted.

  He paced, muttering to himself, and then stopped to examine more text. “I suppose my next course of action is to send word to these people that we have their son in our care. The listing of phrases doesn’t quite cover that, and even if it did, a language is bound to change after a thousand years.”

  “Father, Faith and I know how to speak in their tongue.” More or less. I nodded to my sister. “You should take a chiramantep and go to the tree palace to tell his mother. I shall stay with Taishi.”

  Faith ran to the door to grab her bonnet on its hook.

  “Wait, wait, wait!” Father said. “Just where do you think you’re going? And what, may I ask, is a kooo maaa?”

  Faith and I exchanged annoyed glances. After we had explained, he shook his head. “Most certainly not. I will not permit my daughters to ride wild beasts. And certainly not alone.”

  By now, fourteen hours had passed. I stayed by Taishi’s side, holding his hand and speaking to him softly as he wove in and out of consciousness. Father, Mr. Price and one other man followed Faith to the edge of the cliff. They had only ascended part way down when the Chiramantepjin came riding across the valley on their chiramanteps. Shoko Nipa led the search party, dressed in full regalia. Not only did she wear her headdress and ornate blue and white belt, but her chiramantep was decked out in ornate ribbons and painted with white designs.

  Faith served as translator and diplomat between the two cultures. When the Nipa arrived, I thought to step out, but Taishi’s mother bid me to stay and pray to their ancestors with her for his health. She removed her furry blue headdress and stepped into the role of mother.

  With their consent, the ship doctor took blood samples and inoculated those who came to our ship. He shook his head in disgust. “It’s only a matter of time before others are sick. We’ve got to give everyone vaccines so no one can be carriers of disease.” He pointed at me. “You did a selfish thing keeping these people secret. Imagine how many deaths you might have caused.”