Earth Unaware (First Formic War) (11 page)

But Selmo didn’t know that. He merely saw a brokenhearted boy and the departed girl’s feisty little sister and jumped to the wrong conclusion. Apparently Concepción had as well. Meeting in the greenhouse was her way of being cautious. There they would be far from the eyes and ears of everyone else in case this
was
about Janda.

This is what my life will be like if I stay here, Victor realized. No one on the Council will ever look at me without seeing Janda also.

“The Eye detected something,” said Victor. “That’s why we need to see Concepción.”

Selmo seemed momentarily relieved until he understood the full implication. He turned to Edimar, concerned. “What is it?”

“We’re not sure,” said Victor. “We’re hoping Concepción will know. It may be nothing. No cause for alarm. Don’t tell anyone. We just want to be sure. Thanks for your help.” He launched out of the room and made his way down the corridor toward the greenhouse.

Edimar caught up to him, annoyed. “Why’d you go blabbering to Selmo? Now everyone will know I saw something.”

“Selmo will stay quiet. And everyone will know soon enough anyway.”

“Not if Concepción says it’s nothing! There’s a chance I’m wrong, Vico. And if I am, I could have forgotten the whole thing and nobody would have been the wiser. Now my father will definitely find out.”

Victor caught himself on a bulkhead and stopped to face her. “First, it
is
something. We’ve established that. Let’s stop questioning it. Second, if you want adults and your father to take you seriously, Mar, you need to put this concern about your father aside and think like an adult. Put the safety of the family above your father’s
anticipated
reactions and do what you know is your job.” He hadn’t meant it to sound like a rebuke, but it had come out that way.

“You’re right,” said Edimar. “Of course you’re right.”

Victor felt the tiniest pang of guilt then. He had put an end to Selmo’s misconception but by doing so he had made it possible for Toron to find out through the wrong channels. But what could Victor do? The alternative was far worse. Having Selmo or others believe that Edimar was somehow aware of or implicated in Victor and Janda’s taboo relationship would be a devastating blow to Edimar’s reputation on the Council. Victor couldn’t stomach that. He wouldn’t let the shame of him and Janda spread to Edimar.

“I won’t say another word to anyone,” said Victor. “I won’t even go to the greenhouse if you’d prefer. This is your discovery, not mine.”

Her answer was quick. “No, no. I want you there.”

“All right. Let’s go.”

The greenhouse was a long tube four meters wide, with vegetables growing from pipes running the length of the room. The pipes took up every available space on the wall, creating a thick tunnel of green all around you. Tomatoes, okra, cilantro, sprouts, all with their leaves and bodies floating out from the holes in the pipes like seaweed. It was an aeroponic, soilless system, and although the atomized, nutrient-rich mists were sprayed through the pipes onto the root systems only twice an hour, some of the mist always escaped, and the room was always uncomfortably humid. It was also exceptionally bright, and as Victor and Edimar passed through the anteroom and into the actual greenhouse, it took Victor’s eyes a moment to adjust to the vapor lamps. The air was thick with the scent of greenery and cilantro and the nutrient solution.

Concepción was deep in the room with her feet pointed toward them, her body perpendicular to their orientation, waiting. Victor and Edimar changed their orientation to match hers and launched what was now up, deeper into the greenhouse. Now the greenhouse felt like a silo, and Victor could see why Concepción would prefer to meet with their bodies positioned this way. They wouldn’t have to stoop to keep their feet and heads out of the plants.

Concepción was floating beside a long section of sprouts. Here the plants were shorter, so the “tunnel” was wider, giving the three of them more room to face each other. Victor caught himself on one of the handholds and stopped in front of Concepción.

“I’m sure I need not tell you both how busy we are with the dig,” said Concepción. “But I also know that neither of you would call something an emergency unless it absolutely was one.”

Victor looked at Edimar and waited.

“The Eye detected something,” said Edimar. “A movement out in deep space. I’ve been over the data dozens of times, and the only explanation that I can see is that it’s some type of spacecraft decelerating from near-lightspeed.”

Concepción blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I know it doesn’t make any sense,” said Edimar. “I hardly believe it myself, but unless I’m wrong, and I absolutely could be, there is something out there that is moving faster than humanly possible. I even showed it to Victor to see what he thought because it all seemed completely ridiculous to me.”

Victor nodded. “It looks legit.”

“Did you show your father?” asked Concepción.

“Not yet. I’ve been manning the Eye myself today. Father is helping with the dig. Victor and I thought it best to come straight to you.”

Concepción looked at each of them before gesturing to Edimar’s goggles. “Is that the data there?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Edimar, handing over the goggles.

Concepción put them on and tightened the straps. As she blinked her way through the data, Victor and Edimar waited. After five minutes, Concepción removed the goggles and held them in her hands. “Who else knows about this?”

“No one,” said Edimar.

“I mentioned to Selmo that the Eye had detected something,” said Victor. “But I didn’t say what.”

Concepción nodded, then faced Edimar. “Can you decipher its trajectory?”

“Not yet,” said Edimar. “Not at this distance. It’s too far out.”

“Assuming its trajectory was headed toward us,” said Concepción, “could you guess at how long it would take to reach us?”

“Not accurately,” said Edimar. “Best guess, at least a few weeks but no more than a few months. The problem is I don’t know how far away it is. All I know is that it’s moving at near-lightspeed and that we can see the light from it, which is obviously moving
at
lightspeed. So it could be closer than we think. I don’t know.”

Concepción pulled her handheld from its place on her hip and starting tapping commands into it. “I’m calling an emergency meeting of the Council. We’ll meet this evening on the helm. I want both of you there.” She pocketed her handheld. “In the meantime, don’t speak of this to anyone. The one exception is Toron. I’d like him to look at this as soon as possible. It’s not that I doubt your interpretation of the data, Edimar. I would have reached the same conclusion myself. But perhaps Toron will see something we don’t. You did the right thing coming to me, but I hope Toron proves us wrong. I don’t like anything that I can’t understand, and I don’t understand this at all.”

*   *   *

Victor stayed with Edimar as she went looking for her father. He had suggested that she speak with him alone, but Edimar had insisted that Victor come along. “He won’t be as angry with me if someone else is there,” she had said.

Victor wasn’t eager to see Toron so soon after Janda’s departure. How would Toron react? Did he blame Victor for what had happened? Did he believe that Victor should have seen where the relationship was headed and taken greater care to end it? Did he harbor ill will? Victor would rather not find out, especially not today, with the sting of Janda’s departure still fresh in Toron’s mind. But what could Victor do? He couldn’t hide from Toron. Sooner or later their paths would cross; it was a small ship. Nor did he want to hide, really. There was a part of him that wanted to apologize, a part that wanted to assure Toron that nothing improper had happened. Victor hadn’t known anything was wrong. It had been an innocent mistake. That wouldn’t change the outcome of it all, that wouldn’t diminish the pain. But maybe it would bring him and Toron a little peace.

Toron was in the cargo bay, making repairs to the mining gear Victor had won in the trade with the Italians. It was no secret that Toron had always wanted to work alongside the miners, but his proficiency and training with the Eye had kept him assigned to the crow’s nest instead. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn’t notice Victor and Edimar launch from the hatch and land near him.

“Hello, Father,” said Edimar.

Toron looked tired and defeated. When he saw Edimar, his expression turned to one of surprise. “Who’s watching the Eye?” he said.

“It’s on auto,” said Edimar.

“You should never put it on auto unless it’s an absolute emergency, Mar.” Toron glanced at Victor, noticing him for the first time. His brow furrowed. “What is this, Mar?”

“The Eye detected something, Father, out beyond the ecliptic in deep space.”

Toron gestured to Victor. “What does he have to do with it?”

“I showed it to him,” said Edimar.

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to make sure I was interpreting the data correctly before I showed an adult.”

“He’s not a spotter,” said Toron. “He can’t read the data.”

Actually I can, thought Victor. But he said nothing.

“Nor is he your teacher, Mar,” said Toron. “I am. If you have a question about the Eye, you call me and nobody else. Victor hasn’t been trained with the Eye. Getting his opinion is a waste of time.”

Edimar raised her voice slightly, surprising Victor. “Did you even hear what I said, Father? The Eye detected something.”

“I heard you perfectly,” said Toron. “And if you raise your voice at me again, young lady, you will not like the consequences. Any apprentice on this ship would lose his commission with that attitude, and I will not be any more patient with you simply because you’re my daughter.”

“It’s a spacecraft,” said Edimar. “At near-lightspeed.”

That gave Toron pause. He studied their faces and could see that they meant it. He motioned with his hand. “Give me the goggles.”

Edimar passed them to him, and Toron slid them over his eyes. After a minute, he started asking Edimar questions, most of which Victor didn’t understand: What algorithms had Edimar considered? What measurements had the Eye taken? What processing sequences had she used? What coded commands had she entered? After that, Toron’s questions began to sound more like a rebuke. “Did you try such and such?” “Did you think to do this or that?” At first Edimar answered yes. She had tried everything. But as Toron continued peppering her with possible actions she could have taken, Edimar’s confidence began to wane. No, she hadn’t tried that. No, she hadn’t thought to do that. No, she hadn’t run that scenario. By the end of it, Edimar looked near tears.

Toron removed the goggles. “Go back to the Eye, Edimar, and when I get there, we’ll look at this a little more thoroughly. If it proves to be something, I’ll go show Concepción.”

Edimar looked desperately to Victor, asking for help.

“Actually,” said Victor, “we’ve already gone to Concepción.”

“Before you came to me?” asked Toron.

“We thought she needed to see it immediately,” said Edimar.

“We?” said Toron. “You mean you and Vico? This doesn’t concern him, Mar. He replaces lightbulbs and fixes toilets. What the Eye finds is my specialty, not his, and from the way you’ve responded to all this, I would add, not yours either. I don’t see how this is a difficult concept for you to grasp, Edimar. I’m the spotter. Me. I will school you in how to watch the sky. I will help you decipher the data. And I will decide if and when anything is brought to the captain’s attention.”

Edimar’s cheeks flushed.

“Go to the Eye and wait for me,” said Toron. “Do not ask for help along the way. Do not get the opinion of a passerby. You and I will address this alone.”

“It’s not her fault we went to Concepción,” said Victor. “It’s mine. I’m the one who suggested it.”

“And who gave you that authority?” asked Toron.

“Anyone who sees a potential threat to the ship has an obligation to report it,” said Victor, reciting policy.

“You know all about
rules,
don’t you, Vico?” said Toron.

He meant dogging. This had started as a conversation about an object in space, but it had suddenly become, for Toron at least, about Janda. Toron blamed Victor. Or he hated Victor so intensely for it that it consumed his thoughts, even now, when something as strange and potentially threatening as an alien starship was brought to his attention.

“It’s not Vico’s fault, Father,” said Edimar. “I asked him to help me.”

Toron kept his eyes on Victor. “Go to the Eye, Edimar.”

“But—”

“Go to the Eye!” It was nearly a shout, and Edimar recoiled, fearing perhaps that a hand or fist would follow. She launched off the floor toward the hatch. Toron stared at Victor until he heard the hatch door close. They were alone.

“I want to be very clear about something, Vico. I want you to listen to what I’m saying because I am only going to say this once. It’s something I should have said to you a long time ago. You stay away from my daughters. Do you understand me? If Edimar asks for your help, you ignore her. If she begs for your opinion, you walk away. If she makes eye contact with you from across the room, you pretend she doesn’t exist. She is a ghost to you. Invisible. Am I making myself clear? Because it seems to me that you don’t know the boundaries of what’s appropriate and what isn’t.”

It was a ridiculous accusation. The idea that Victor would do anything inappropriate with Janda was infuriating. But to insinuate that his behavior toward Edimar could be anything less than honorable was an egregious insult. It was the vilest and most cruel thing Toron could say, especially considering how pained and guilty he knew Victor must be because of Janda.

But of course Toron knew the accusation was baseless. He knew Victor was only helping, that Victor’s intentions were purely supportive and protective of the family. That wasn’t his reason for lashing out. He was angry because his eldest daughter was gone and his second daughter had sought counsel with the very person who had lost him the first.

Victor kept his voice calm. “Alejandra leaving has nothing to do with this, Toron.”