Reading the Wind (Silver Ship) (39 page)

Jenna nodded. “She does. She seems to have flexibility mods. A dancer, I think.”

“How can you tell?”

“Look how long and defined her muscles are. Remember how she carried herself when we saw her before? Graceful. And she’s the only one who made it inside the closing door.”

“Besides my father.” That reminded me of something else. “Bryan, didn’t you get a mod, too, like Alicia?”

He flexed his hands, twisting them together. Then he held them out
flat, bent slightly up, like a little girl admiring long nails. I bent down over his near hand. “Impressive.” His nails had lengthened, as if he’d unleashed sheathed knives, the edges sharp and cutting. I reached out and touched the tip of his right index fingernail, and a thin line of blood rose, like a papercut. I raised an eyebrow at him. “Be careful with those, especially around girlfriends.”

His cheeks reddened. He twisted his hands again, running one over the other in a smooth pattern, and the knives disappeared. Bodies as weapons, like the Family of Exploration had worn on Fremont.

I looked again at Bryan’s now-normal hands. “Where’d they go?”

“They went into my fingers. Feel?” He touched me with his index finger, the nail now a dull round that didn’t hurt at all. Synthetic, though.

“But what happens to the real nail when it grows?” I asked.

He grinned. “The mod included a nail cutter.” He held up his right foot, again an absurdly feminine gesture. “I did my feet, too.”

“Magic nails,” a feminine voice rasped. “I heard they’ve improved since I got mine.”

Ming. She hadn’t turned her head. Maybe she couldn’t, yet. But she was awake enough to speak coherently. Curious. Her vitals, like everyone’s, were closely monitored by Creator, but it hadn’t mentioned she might be awake. Had it known?

We had decided not to waste too much time. “What are you doing on my ship?” I asked her.

“I wanted to see where you came from.”

“Why?”

“I’m curious. I can help you.”

“How?” I asked.

She moved her head, her dark almond-shaped eyes big in her pale face. “I helped you once.” Her voice was scratchy, but controlled. She was used to authority. “I told Marcus when you left Li Spaceport so he could find you before anyone else did.”

She must be dying of thirst, aching with it, but she hadn’t asked. I moved my seat closer to her bed and handed her a glass of water. Jenna and Bryan watched carefully in case I needed them. Not that Ming could do much damage in the shape she was in now, just
waking. Although magic fingernails? I checked as she took the glass of water. Her nails looked normal.

No one had suggested I get any neat physical mods.

Ming downed the water, her head tilted like a songbird’s, then held the glass out for more, her slender fingers handling it gently, like priceless art. I plucked the glass from her and handed it to Jenna, who got up and re-filled it, but held it in her own hands, waiting.

Very well. I asked a question I wanted the answer to anyway. “How do you know Marcus?”

She smiled. “I was his student, once.”

“What did he teach you?”

“Movement. He spent two years teaching dance.” She glanced at Jenna. “A long time ago. Before you left for Fremont. I did the first year, but I couldn’t do the second. I didn’t want the Wind Reader mod.”

Interesting. “You can get it as an adult? I thought it had to be born into you, and that it ran in families. A true-mod.”

She laughed this time. “He told me you were naïve. It does breed true. Mostly. But like all mods, it started somewhere. Humanity was not born to interact directly with data. New Wind Reader lines are usually started in-vitro, but there is an adult version of the mod. The failure rate is half.” She shrugged. “I chose not to try. Failure isn’t reversible. If you fail, you’re crazy forever.”

Her answer intrigued me. “So can people who are born Wind Readers enhance their skills as adults?”

She reached for the water. “Practice helps. More nano doesn’t.”

Jenna handed it to her. “Ming, why do you want to see Fremont?”

Ming pushed herself up, dangling her legs over the side of the bed and drinking the water, slowly. More controlled than I’d seen anyone on just their second glass after waking. “Because it is wild, and no place in the Five Planets is wild anymore. Except that’s not the most important reason.” She paused, stretching her limbs again, a small smile curving the corners of her fine, small lips as her arms and wrists and ankles turned and stretched. “Maybe that was even the wrong answer.” She caught my eyes with hers. “Marcus thinks you matter. I wanted to be with you, to see why. And I needed an adventure.” She took another dainty sip of water. “The Authority bores me.”
She shrugged. “Besides, Lukas thinks I came on his account. I can balance between you and him, if necessary.”

Bryan watched her intently. He’d taken his nails out again. Was he playing with them, or was it a sign that he still mistrusted Ming?

I paced. What to do next? Ming seemed to be answering us openly enough, but could I believe her? What would Marcus do? Marcus apparently knew her better than he’d let on to me—he had had time to tell her I was naïve.

Right now, I couldn’t be.

I stopped in front of Ming. The bed she sat on was high enough that her eyes were level with mine, and I tried to see into them. She gazed back at me, waiting. “So tell me about the other people on the ship. What do you think of them?”

She started a little, her eyes widening, as if the question surprised her. Maybe it did. After all, we hadn’t locked her up as a stowaway. She said, “Is there food we can discuss this over?”

She shouldn’t be hungry yet. But then, she shouldn’t be awake yet, either. And here she sat, alert, and very, very interesting. Something about her suggested I should trust her, could trust her, and Marcus seemed to, as well. But Jenna didn’t. And I trusted Jenna more than even Marcus.

I called Alicia and Tiala and asked if they could finish the meal they were cooking a little early. Ming watched me talk to them, and when I was done she asked, “Who else is awake?”

Jenna answered her. “Alicia, and my sister, Tiala.”

Ming stood and walked steadily over to the small sink in the sparse medical room, setting her glass down neatly. She seemed fully adapted to
Creator’s
gravity, which was slightly less than that of Silver’s Home, but perhaps she was well-adapted to anything physical. When she finished, she turned to Jenna. “And why did Tiala come?”

Jenna blinked at her, drawing back a moment. “We are…all the family we have. We didn’t want to be separated anymore.”

W
e didn’t talk about anything of consequence until Ming had eaten a full bowl of ship’s stew: grown protein, tasteless by itself, but flavored by fresh tomatoes and carrots and spices from the garden. A cup of col for everyone. And better, Tiala had made fresh flatbread, a rare
treat, which we dipped in the hot stew. My stomach berated me for not waking Tiala a long time ago.

Ming looked like she’d been awake for days instead of hours: her eyes shone, her skin glowed, she moved easily. Her intensity had returned, as if the energy in her tiny body was enough for at least two people. She looked at Jenna and spoke. “First of all, Induan and Dianne surprised Lukas and me. We didn’t know they would be coming. I quick queried them both. Induan is an artist. She was also one of the business strategists for the Family of Exploration and loaned out to other affinity groups. She never made much buzz.”

I pictured Alicia, listening, frowning at any idea Induan wasn’t extraordinary.

Ming went on. “Dianne can be trusted. She and Marcus have been friends forever, and she wants to stop this war.”

“What about my father?” I asked.

“He came back broken. Before that, he was brilliant. One of the best in your affinity group, and well adjusted for a Wind Reader. Who knows about broken people? Maybe this trip will cure him.”

We left Ming awake and with us for three more days, watching her closely. She didn’t try to call out from the ship, or access any records, or check on any of the sleepers. She taught us a new dance, which Alicia and Tiala excelled at (and I stumbled through). Alicia stayed close to me, as if she sensed Ming’s physicality.

When asked, Ming went meekly back to be frozen, requesting that we thaw her a few weeks before we got to Fremont so she could get her body in shape. As soon as Ming consigned herself to temporary oblivion again, Alicia said, “A week will be plenty. She looks like she’s in pretty good shape right now.”

I laughed and drew Alicia close, burying my face in her hair. “I love you, and only you. But we don’t know what we’ll find on Fremont, and I don’t see any reason not to let her have a few weeks to get ready. Maybe she’ll be even more impressive. We may need every tool we have, and I think I can trust her.”

Jenna, who overhead me, said, “We learned nothing. We should not wake her until we can watch her, one week or six.”

Alicia grinned, like a kid with a cookie, and Bryan looked up from a seat at the far side of the room. “I’ll watch her anytime.”

K
ayleen pushed herself up from a slump in the center backseat of the skimmer’s cabin. Her eyes fixed on the dark mouth of the Cave of Power, an elongated oval in a steep, rocky slope peppered with midsummer-green brush. Liam and I sat on either side of her, watching the opening fill the Burning Void’s screen in front of us.

Kayleen’s face looked as cold and still and shocked as it had when we left Windy’s body behind and fled West Home. No one followed us. But they knew we left. Kayleen had confirmed their nets were up with a simple nod.

Liam and I had tried to approach her, had offered our touch and our tears. Kayleen reacted to neither. She spent most of the flight with her eyes closed, her skin white, her body deadly still. Perhaps she focused so hard on flying to shut out her loss. Perhaps she couldn’t let herself feel and still fly.

The skimmer seemed empty without Windy. I felt disconnected myself, and as if someone besides me had made my choices. I approved of this strange Chelo’s choice because it was the right one. But I didn’t like her, I didn’t want to be her. And as much as I had wanted to go home, I felt disconnected from that as well.

Except now we were almost there.

Kayleen barked out a single word: “Brace.” I grabbed the seat arms just as something powerful clutched the Burning Void, slowing us with a jerk. The skimmer began to make minor adjustments, finer than any Kayleen had shown an ability to do. She slumped in her chair, her breathing uneven, her face white.

The skimmer’s lights shone on the back of the cave wall, illuminating both smooth and rough-hewn rock, showing a few of the doors that led deeper into the cave. Walls surrounded us, even though I couldn’t see them. I held my breath as the skimmer slid neatly, and I knew barely, between them and down the short corridor to settle smoothly on the floor of the room we had taken off from.

Kayleen’s eyes were closed, her head back against the cushions. Tears ran down each side of her face, streams of them running along her ears and sparkling in her hair. Her breath came in slow, deep jerks as she fought sobs back. Liam took her right hand, and I took her left. We sat that way for a long time, matching our breathing to hers. Eventually, she pulled her hand free from mine and wiped at her eyes, then opened them. She sat forward, placing both of her hands on the chair-back in front of her. The screen went dark. “We have to go. We have to warn them.”

“Yes,” I said, opening the door.

She stood, wobbling, and reached for her water flask, taking a long drink. She clipped her flask to her belt. Her voice shook. “The damned birds will have a heyday with the garden.”

She ran her hands through her hair, then whispered, “Paloma.” She walked through the doorway. We grabbed our own water and followed. The ramp rose again behind us.

It was full night, the breeze colder than anything on Islandia. Goose bumps rose on my bare arms. The bright lights of stars and two moons, Destiny and Dreamcatcher, cast faint shadows on the dark rocks and paths, and touched the edges of leaves with a vague shimmer. We didn’t say anything else, but simply started off, together, me in front and Kayleen in between and then Liam, picking our way down the path, moving fast but careful of our footing in the shadowed parts of the trail.

As soon as we reached the wide High Road, we sped into a steady, fast downhill jog. Trees shadowed half the road, so we kept to the far side, closest to the drop, moving quietly and surely, like wild animals on their home territory. I couldn’t find Artistos’s lights. That wasn’t right.

“Kayleen?” I asked. “Is Artistos okay?”

She glanced down, seeing the same darkness I had seen, and nodded. “It’s still there, Chelo.”

We slowed as we went through the rock fall, and for once, little of my attention pulled toward the awful past of the place—the rocks and downed trees and tremendous rotting root systems were simply an annoyance, a barrier to us getting down.

At the far end of the fall, Liam came to my side and put a hand on my shoulder. “Do you need to rest?”

Yes. I shook my head, only slowing a bit. “Where do we start? With Nava?”

Kayleen answered. “I want to see Paloma. We’ll wake her and go to Nava and Tom together, maybe get an emergency High Council meeting. If we were followed, there won’t be much time.”

A bright red-gold meteor streaked across the sky, and then another one. No threatening ships or strange skimmers. But they had data. We might as well have just written down the coordinates of our weapons store and handed them to the mercenaries. But then, we couldn’t exactly fly right down into Artistos, either. Most people there didn’t even know we had the skimmer, and they might very well shoot first and ask questions later. We should have gone to the Grass Plains. It didn’t matter, not now. Except as a personal warning to think harder. But I spoke it anyway. “We flew into the cave.”

Kayleen answered. “It has defenses.”