Skyland (17 page)
Harper went into the room and sat down on
the bed. He adjusted the pillows and lay back on them. His eyebrows
scrunched together and he squinted at the ceiling.
What is wrong here?
Something was different from how it should
be.
Harper hadn't expected a cell. Not exactly.
The lax security of the needle ship had shown him that he wasn't
much of a concern to the Union. But these were not the
accommodations he'd thought he'd get when he agreed to come back to
Skyland. Shivering in the cold obsidian room, with the angry man
shouting in his face and threatening him with charges, Harper had
not pictured pillows and private rooms.
This room was small, but there was effort in
it.
That bothered Harper.
He pressed his head back into the pillows,
sinking deeper into the white cloud. The material cupped the back
of his head, his neck, the side of his cheeks. He'd never felt
anything like it. He lay his palms flat against the puffy blanket
underneath him. It was fine, smooth, slippery like silk, but
stuffed with thick softness just like the pillow. The mattress
underneath that was flat but just so slightly bouncy, and it gave
when he shifted, rolling over to one side to stare at the
still-open door.
But it wasn't just the room.
The bed full of fluffy pillows coupled with
the complete and utter lack of antagonism made the dread in the pit
of Harper's stomach squirm and swell and reach up as if it were
trying to claw it's way up into his brain.
Something is going on...
Not that Harper wanted to be back in a cold
room with his breath making clouds. Not that he wanted to be
face-to-face with the pouchy red-faced man shouting questions at
him. Not that he wanted to be sat in a hard metal chair waiting to
be manipulated by the Union army.
But the fact that he wasn't, worried
him.
What am I here for?
As he lay in bed, the room gradually
darkened around him, and eventually he slept.
in which there is
food... or something like that
...
Harper opened his eyes.
He squinted in confusion. A bland glow
seemed to be coming from all around him.
Sunset?
He blinked a few times.
Oh.
The room resolved as he came to full
consciousness. Close walls. A metal bed frame. A blurred and
glowing red square in a grey panel. Light strips where wall and
ceiling met. He blinked again, and the red square on the wall
at the end of the bed resolved in to numbers.
6:30AM
Harper sat up straight. His head spun a
little, and he leaned his elbows on his knees. It was just after
dawn.
Huh.
He remembered the room darkening around him,
remembered dozing off, tired out by anxiety. He didn't remember
closing the door, though it was closed now, and he didn't remember
turning on the lights at any point in the night. He looked up at
the glowing strips around the top of the wall and wondered if they
adjusted the lights for every planet the base landed on.
Slowly, he shifted his feet onto the floor
and stood up. He was groggy from sleeping... nine, ten hours? He
had no idea when he'd fallen asleep. As he stretched, his stomach
grumbled. Then the shakiness of hunger hit him. Steadying himself
against the wall, he pushed the door open and peered around the
corner. The young soldier whose name was Wills was there already,
sitting in a chair, his head propped up on one hand, the elbow
resting on his knee.
"Hey," said Harper.
Wills jerked his head up. "He-hey there," he
stuttered, getting hastily to his feet. He brushed futilely at the
creases in his uniform, his now-familiar grin hitching itself back
into place as he tried to stifle a yawn. "Sorry – I came by
yesterday to get you for dinner, but you were asleep..."
"It's okay." Harper waved off his
apology.
"Bet you needed the rest, huh?"
"I guess so."
Twelve hours of it? If he
came by at dinner time...
Harper was shocked that he could have
slept at all – let alone for so long – with so much anxiety. The
discomfort of sleeping in space must have finally caught up with
him.
"You can't have slept well on the other
ship," Wills voice continued over Harper's thoughts. "I hate trying
to sleep in transit – I think those ships are designed to keep you
up."
"Right," Harper answered absently, not
really listening.
"Want breakfast?"
"Yes!" Harper's attention snapped back to
the conversation. "Um, sorry. I mean, yeah that would be nice. I-I
am pretty hungry."
Will laughed. "Well,
I hope you are, because otherwise the food is
unbearable."
He turned and headed
down the black corridor and Harper followed.
"Where is the... angry man?" Harper had
never gotten the name of the first Union solder he'd met.
"Who?"
"Big face, pouchy, red, always a little mad
looking. Black cord around the neck. The one who found me on the
Skyland ship. Brought me here. Where's he been?"
"Oh. Hah. He is pretty angry, isn't he? He
went to worship."
"Worship?"
"It's the Tenth Day."
"Oh."
They were sitting in the mess hall over
trays of something that resembled breakfast: hard pieces of what
might have been fruit sometime in the past, a bowl of something
that could have been porridge with a bit more water, and crumbly of
slices of... bread? Harper didn't really know. At least it wasn't
kale. He missed the green leaves only a little bit. On a planet
where almost nothing grew, green was one of few signs of life – if
it was green, it'd probably keep you alive. Now, everything on his
plate was a different shade of brown. Dry and brown and in various
stages of dehydration.
He tried to make conversation with Wills. It
wasn't hard – the young soldier's mood was curiously upbeat and
interested – but it felt awkward. This was a
Union
soldier
. He carried a weapon, at least one that Harper could
see, maybe more. And he was here to fight, not to befriend the
Skylanders.
But it was more than that.
This was a Union soldier, and that
meant...
Wills flew through the Sky and traveled
in the unholy void of space. On a regular basis. An almost
instinctive discomfort plagued Harper in his presence. Flying was
the one sin he'd been taught since childhood to hate above all
else, and the young man sitting across from him chewing noisily on
a cracker was a product of the foreign places that embraced the
sin.
But you did, too
, Harper reminded
himself.
You embraced it, too.
He tried to shake off the prejudice.
"So they didn't give you the day off, too?
For worship?" he asked to distract himself. "Don't you go to the
Tenth–"
"No." Wills's voice was sharp as he
looked away.
Harper stared.
It was the first time Wills had spoken
sharply to him. The first time the wide smile had disappeared
entirely. His face looked gaunt without it.
A weird moment passed.
Wills looked down at his food, and Harper
tried to think of something to say.
"Oh. So, um," Harper's mind flailed a
bit, trying to find another subject. "So when are they going to
need me?"
"I don't know." Wills answered. "They're
just trying to secure the area for now. Coordinate with the local
troops. They're not going to make a move against anyone for the
moment. I don't think. I don't really know..." He smiled again. It
was a half smile and he didn't meet Harper's eye. "Sorry. They
don't really trust me with that kind of thing."
"It's okay. I was just wondering."
"So what are you here for, anyway?" asked
Wills. "What's your thing?"
Harper raised his eyebrows. Then he laughed.
"They don't tell you that either?"
"They
really
don't tell me much."
"Guess not."
"So what is it that makes you important?"
Wills prodded. "What can you tell them?"
"Not much." Harper hesitated for a minute.
He wasn't sure how much information he should share – especially if
the Union army themselves didn't share it with the lowly soldiers.
But after a moment he shrugged to himself and continued. "Just
about the... explosives."
It's not my job to check security
clearance.
"What about them, though? I didn't think
farmers had access to those kind of weapons, not ones that could
do...
that
. I mean, the whole ship.... just gone like
that. There were
bits
left, falling. Bits. How is
it even possible?"
Is this an interrogation?
Harper
chewed thoughtfully on something that may have been dried meat.
"It's just... fertilizer."
"Can't be." Wills shook his head. He paused
for a moment, his head cocked to one side, his eyes staring into
the air over Harper's shoulder, thoughtful. "Can't be... It'd take
a hell of a lot of fertilizer to do that."
"Not really."
"And how'd they get it all onboard with
nobody seeing it anyway? Unless there's someone inside–"
"No. It's really not a lot. They could have
taken a pocketful and incapacitated the ship for good. Two
pocketfuls, maybe a handful more, probably destroyed it."
"No way." Wills shook his head.
"We're farmers. My people have...
experimented. A lot. For a century we've done nothing but explore
dirt."
"So you know a lot about it."
Harper felt a twinge of pity watching the
young soldier across from him. Wills was smiling. Joking. A naive
boy from Union Proper, he was probably unable to imagine sitting
and chatting over breakfast with someone
who
really
knew. He didn't know enough to be
fighting a war.
If you only did know.
"Yes."
"Can you tell me more?"
"Are you interrogating me?" asked
Harper.
"No, I'm just curious."
Harper raised an eyebrow.
Wills laughed. "Really. I wanted to be a
weapons expert, but I wasn't good enough in training."
Harper smiled back. It was hard not to catch
his good mood. Even if it was fake. "Is that why you're always
here? I mean, watching me. They didn't have anything better you
could do?"
"I guess not."
"So what are you really?" Harper asked,
still smiling. "My guide? Come on. I'm not stupid. What was your
assignment?"
Wills sighed. He looked down at his hands,
absently picking apart the dry remnant of breakfast. He opened his
mouth and hesitated for a moment. Then,
"Yeah," he said. "I'm your... guard."
Of course.
"Thought so. Making sure I
don't escape?"
"Something like that," Wills admitted.
"Or making sure I don't blow the place
up?"
"Probably not so much that." He laughed.
"But yeah."
Finally some honesty. Good. Let's see how
far that goes.
He looked at Wills, remembering what Ben
had said on the way to the planet.
They know... more. They know
something. And they trust me. Sort of.
"It's weird, though,
isn't it?"
"Weird?"
"Yeah, weird. A liability like me – a local,
a son of a Sky Reverend – and they put a, no offense..." He smiled
to soften the blow, "...low-level guy in to watch me?"
"It's a... it's... " Wills shifted
uncomfortable, his eyes squinted up a bit as he tried to
explain.
Can't come up with a convincing
story?
wondered Harper.
"It's an honor," Wills said, finally. "It's
a big responsibility. I guess they think I'm up to the task."
"You don't seem honored."
Or
responsible.
Wills looked up from his breakfast guilty.
"It's not... Well..."
He's not allowed to tell me. So it's
true. Ben was right. There's more to what they know.
He
struggled to keep the smile on his face. "I know. It's okay."
"You know? You know what?"
"I know that you're not here to keep me from
doing anything."
"Why do you say that?" Wills wide-eyed
expression looked a little too innocent.
"Because..." Harper grit his teeth. "Because
the Union has been following me." He finally voiced the glaring
truth.
"Wha..." Wills gaped unconvincingly. "I
don–"
"Somehow." Harper shook his head. "They know
I'm really not a threat at all," he said, repeating the cryptic
words Ben had told him.
"Well, sure they do..."
Harper laughed. "Thanks. But I know they
don't."
"Just a little..."
Uh huh.
Harper waited, watching
Wills, and didn't say anything. The soldier's eyes started to
flicker here and there uncomfortably. Harper let the minutes
stretch out in silence.
"Okay, okay." Wills finally interrupted the
awkward pause. "No. They don't." He looked around as though someone
were listening. "They know you're not
really
a threat. I
don't know how, I don't know why. But yeah, they know you're not
going to do anything." He looked kind of disappointed. "I don't
really need to be here."
"So why are you?"
"It's just..." Again, he looked around for a
second. "It's just so that you don't get suspicious, I think."
Ben was right. They know me. Somehow they
know more than they've said...
Harper stared across the
table.
Then he saw his chance.
Will's eyes were baggy. His head leaned on
one fist. The curious smile was still there, but thinner than it
had been the day before and more tired looking.
No sleep on the soldier's ship.
Harper leaned in. "Look, they're right," he said, keeping
his voice hushed. "I'm not going to do anything. I mean, do
I
look
dangerous?"