Space Hostages (28 page)

“Hi,” I said.

“I saved you,” said Christa.

“Yes,” I said. “Thank you.”

“I could have been a princess
.
Of the
world
. But I made a different choice. It wasn't easy, but it was the right thing to do.”

“I'm sure it wasn't easy,” I agreed.

“What, you think it's
so hard
for me to do the right thing? For anyone except you and your little friends?”

“. . . No,” I said, bearing in mind she'd had a very hard day. Which, bearing in mind that
I
had had multiple
extremely
hard days, I think was fairly saintly of me. “I just mean . . . you did great.”

“Right. So you'd better write another book and make sure you put that in,” finished Christa, looming over me meaningfully. Then she tossed her head and walked off to her cabin.

So I have, and I do think it was very brave of her to help us, and she did kind of save the world. But
we're probably not going to be friends. But then I'm sure she wouldn't want to be. And wherever she is now, I hope she's doing okay.

Noel came back, starry-eyed and with a little gold device full of pictures of Wurrhuya, and telling anyone who would listen how the flying orange things were at
least
three different species.

Even with the Goldfish translating, the attempts to repair the
Helen
had been going slowly, but then a small invisible ship descended and three invisible Morrors got off it and started working on the damaged areas without bothering to tell anyone they were there. This disturbed the Eemala quite badly, but everyone got over it, and the sun was melting into pools of blue when the
Helen
sighed, “Oh, that feels
so
much better,” and rose a few meters out of the sea under her own power, dislodging a litter of human, Morror, and Eemala cups and plates from her roof.

“Leethalawaaaa ath-lel ishworuuuu,”
called one of the Morror engineers, standing in the doorway of their invisible craft.

“They are ready to guide us all home to Earth,” translated Th
saaa,
going pink and lilac with relief and hope.

We turned to our Eemala friends. I didn't know what to say.

“Our worlds need allies,” said Hoolinyae solemnly. “Yaela will stand with Earth, and with Aushalawa-Mo
raaa
, if you will stand with us.”

“We will,” said Josephine. I guessed she wasn't really empowered to sign up for an interplanetary alliance like that, but I figured we'd sort it out later.

Uwaelee gathered the other Eemala kids into a mass around us. They lifted us into the air, and Uwaelee made Eenyo produce a kind of camera from his pouch belt and take a picture of us.

“Okay, guys, I guess this is it,” said the Goldfish as they lowered us back to the roof.

And I thought it meant it was time to climb back inside Helen and get going. But then it hovered away toward the Eemala kids, and turned from among them to look back at us.

“Goldfish?” I said.

“I'm going to stay here, kids,” it said simply.

“What?” I said.

“No!” cried Noel.

“But—why?” I asked. I realized as I said it that I knew why, really. I just couldn't help it coming out.

“Well. I want to,” said the Goldfish. “And I guess it feels like time I made some decisions for myself.”

And while we were still speechless, it switched into WOya:
“Leastways, if you'll have me, sir,”
it said to Ningleenill
. “I'd love to learn about this world, and you guys'd set the curriculum, of course, but I'd pick it up real fast, and you guys have a whole new system of government to build. I think these kids could do with one more person to look out for them, right?”

“Hmmph,” said Ningleenill, sounding not very bothered either way, but Uwaelee and the rest cheered, “Waaaay!” So I guess it was agreement enough.

“The seas are full of Krakkiluk spawn too,”
said Qualt-zu-Quo.
“We can send many of them back into the Expanse, I hope, but I think plenty will remain. We can try to teach them different ways from those of the Expanse.”

“They will ALL keep their tleek-li,”
said Kat-li-Yaka, gently running her claw over the bristles growing through Qualt-zu-Quo's shell.
“Will you help us?”

I noticed how battered the Goldfish was; slightly melted by atmospheric entry, and scratched and scraped from misadventures on more than one planet. But it lit up—quite literally—at the thought of all those kids waiting to be pestered into songs
about atomic bonding.
“Well, sure,”
it said.

“Oh,
Goldfish
,” said Noel, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

“I know, kids,” said the Goldfish. “I wish it didn't mean saying good-bye.”

“When did you decide?” Josephine said, in what was probably supposed to be a very businesslike voice but wasn't, quite.

“Well, I didn't know how everything would shake out,” said the Goldfish. “I had to stick with you guys as long as you needed me. But I promised them I'd stay if I could.”

I remembered the thing it had said to the rubbish dump kids—the thing it hadn't translated, but that they'd all cheered.

“But Goldfish,” Carl said. “I never meant to make you feel like you had to
leave
. . . damn. We
still
need you.”

“No,” said the Goldfish fondly. “That's just it. You guys are all growing up. You're going to be fine. Heck, you're going to be better than fine—you're going to be awesome. But hey, more homework, less jumping out of spaceships, you hear me?”

It hovered back to us, and we hugged its plastic body as best we could.

“I'll miss you,” said Noel.

“I will miss you too, Goldfish,” the
Helen
announced through her speakers. “Thank you.”

“You too, ma'am!” said the Goldfish, jaunty as ever. “Good-bye, kids.”

And as it sailed away among the Eemala children, all of them singing that math rhyme it made up, I had an unworthy impulse to yell to them that a time would come when it was chasing them around insisting that equations were friendly and the periodic table was a game, and they wouldn't be so thrilled. But I managed to stop myself.

Finally we climbed back into the
Helen
, and the invisible Morror ship guided us up through the green sky into space.

And without the Goldfish, it seemed awfully quiet.

S
o we never actually got to see Aushalawa-Mo
raaa
at all.

I mean, I guess we
could
have, because we did have to stop off in orbit there when we came out of hyperspace. But when it came to it, we all felt we still had a lot of urgent huddling under blankets and watching cartoons to catch up on, so we skipped it.

So we pushed on for home. There was a bit of drama on the way when Rasmus Trommler escaped and tried to take over the ship, but honestly, after everything else we'd been through, it wasn't that big a deal.

Mum insisted on coming out of hyperspace and spacewalking from her ship over to the
Helen
,
which honestly I think was an overreaction, and she arrested Rasmus Trommler
again
and sent him over to the other ship.

So that was the first time I saw her, and there was some hugging and crying and a certain amount of yelling that I don't want to talk about.

We didn't see Dr. Muldoon, or Lena, until we reached Mars, which is where Dr. Muldoon wanted to get off.

We landed near Schiaparelli Crater, a perfectly round lake like a panel of turquoise.

Th
saaa
didn't want to get off the
Helen
because Mars hasn't got a magnetic field, which makes it very uncomfortable for Morrors. The rest of us stepped out into the thin air and low gravity. Noel was clutching Ormerod in his arms, but the rest of us began jumping, experimentally, feeling that amazing lightness, carrying you up so high you felt only one good leap away from flight. I couldn't believe how green Mars had grown since I'd seen it last. The dark arctic grass was tall and thick, waving in the breeze, and a great flock of snow geese was paddling on the surface of the lake. There were creepers beginning to grow up the outside
s of t
he windmills and greenhouse domes of Schiaparelli Station, cloaking the buildings in leaves. The air felt softer, warmer, fuller than it had.

I don't want to oversell it; it was still
cold
.

The Morror ship had made it to Mars before us. It stood on the tundra in a shimmer I could only see out of the corner of my eye, two EDF soldiers standing guard outside it.

“Where's Lena Jerome?” asked Josephine. Like there might have been another Lena or two on board the alien ship.

“She's still being debriefed. She and Valerie Muldoon,” said one of the soldiers.

“You'll need to be debriefed too,” said Mum. “And better to get it over with here—on Earth the media will be all over you.”

“Ha,
debriefed
,” said Carl, feeling somebody had to.

Then Carl and Noel's parents came out of the station, and behind them was my dad.

And if I didn't hurry things along a bit here, this part of the story would just be all hugging all the time.

Except that Josephine's dad wasn't there. I saw her quickly scan the group, almost expressionless, and when her mouth twitched, it wasn't with hurt or disappointment, but with resignation.

I let go of Dad a bit faster than I wanted to. Like that would somehow help.

“Josephine,” Dad said suddenly. “Your father—they wouldn't let him on the Space Elevator. Nothing to worry about, just an ear infection. He'll be waiting when we get back.”

Josephine's eyebrows lifted a little. “He tried to come,” she said. Not eagerly, not giving anything away.

“Well, of course! We've all been worried to death—he wanted to give you this.”

He took a small gift-wrapped box out of his pocket.

Josephine took it and read the card that came with it, with a cautiously neutral expression. Then she unwrapped the gift as if it might be booby-trapped.

It was a telescope, a beautiful, slender thing of shiny brass in a red velvet case, and it was inscribed
TO MY DEAR DAUGHTER JOSEPHINE
.

And I could tell that it would just about let you see what was going on at the end of the road. It was an expensive toy for a young child who'd just developed an interest in space.

“Hmm,” said Josephine. She extended it anyway and put it to her eye.

“Can you see anything?” Noel asked.

“A tree,” said Josephine.

“It's pretty,” I said.

“It's a nice thought,” said Josephine noncommittally, and closed the telescope up again.

“Where's the fish?” demanded Carl and Noel's mum. “What's happened to that fish?”

“It's happy,” said Josephine quietly, and Mrs. Dalisay noticed that Noel was starting to look upset, and wisely held back from more questions.

“Anything you want to say to me, Alice?” Dad asked pointedly.

“I'm sorry,” I said.

I knew I owed him that.

But when he hugged me again, I was looking at the two tiny moons of Mars over his shoulder, and I realized something a bit awful.

It wasn't really true.

I wasn't sorry the way I should be. I hated to think of how scared he must have been. But when I thought of what I
should
have done that day back in San Diego—stayed behind, heard about the hostage crisis from trillions of miles away—I only felt glad I hadn't. I thought of the red spot of Jupiter, Yaela's glowing night creatures and green skies echoing with joyous wingbeats. And of course I wanted to hurry back to Wolthrop-Fossey and curl up in bed for a week with endless cat videos and cups of tea.

But how was I supposed to be sorry I'd seen those things?

Dr. Muldoon appeared out of the invisible ship, stumbling out of empty space. She looked thinner and more disheveled than when I'd last seen her. But she was smiling.

“Hello, Valerie,” said my mum.

“We've been taking care of Ormerod for you, Dr. Muldoon,” said Noel.

Ormerod squeaked and ran to her, turning happy Morror colors.

A young man wearing a thick parka thrown on over a lab coat ran out of one of the domes.

He looked delighted to see Dr. Muldoon. “Valerie,” he cried. “Thank god you're back! How are you?”

“Traumatized! And very excited!” said Dr. Muldoon, clutching Ormerod. “I never thought I'd make it home! But I've seen such amazing things! Purple seas! A city floating in the acid clouds of a gas giant! The food was terrible! I need to write several papers for the Royal Society and speak to a therapist!” She turned to us. “And none of you lot are dead. Ha-ha!”

Under the circumstances, I thought I'd hold off on complaining about Josephine's gills.

Lena emerged from the ship. She looked composed,
her hair in a perfect chignon, her pace steady.

“Hello, Lena,” said Josephine.

“Josephine,” said Lena, in her solemn, inscrutable way. And then she startled everyone by flinging her arms around her sister and bursting into tears.

“I thought I'd never see you again!” she sobbed, clutching Josephine. “Are you really all right?”

Josephine looked shocked, and went sort of limp in Lena's arms, mumbling, “Yes,” into her shoulder.

“James . . . tell me someone's making tea,” Dr. Muldoon said.

So Dr. Muldoon and James led us inside the base, through a greenhouse and past a laboratory, into a cozy little apartment where a large rainbow-striped rag rug lay on the floor and a kettle was singing on a little stove.

“Oof,” she said, flopping into a chair covered by a patchwork quilt. “It's good to be home.”

Josephine chewed her bottom lip. “Are you . . . going to stay here for long, then?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“A while, I think,” said Dr. Muldoon absently, curling up with Ormerod while James made the tea. “It's been a busy year.”

“Will you . . . come back, though?” Josephine
began, and then began gabbling: “I . . . would be so happy if you'd still keep in touch, at least sometimes. I know you're very busy and I'm so sorry I didn't get into university, but, but I'll try so hard to get it right next time, and—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Dr. Muldoon. “What?”

“What?” said Josephine. And then, “I mean . . . I know you must have been disappointed.”

Dr. Muldoon was staring as if Josephine had grown an extra head to go with the gills.

“Josephine,” she said, “did you think you had to prove something to me?”

Josephine turned her new telescope over and over in her hands.

“I thought—I
think
—that some of your work is at university standard,” Dr. Muldoon said. “I think you're exceptional. I didn't want to hold you back when you wanted to push forward. But you're
thirteen
. I never meant you
had
to go to university now. It'll still be there when you're fourteen, or eighteen, or forty-two. You don't have to do everything younger and better than anyone else to be worth being interested in, Josephine.”

Josephine didn't know what to say. Lena was frowning, her fingers steepled against her lips. “May
I see that?” she asked, and reached for the telescope.

Josephine let her have it. “Hmm,” Lena said, in much the same way Josephine had. She contemplated the inscription.

“I don't really know what to do with it,” Josephine confessed.

“It'll go well enough in your bag of oddities, won't it?” asked Lena briskly. “Or else it'll make an attractive paperweight.”

Josephine gave a small smile.

Lena appeared to reach a decision. “Josephine,” she asked, “would your situation be materially improved if you were to come and live with me?”

Josephine's face brightened at once, and a weight seemed to fall away from her. “Oh,
yes
,” she said.

“Excellent,” said Lena. “Perhaps we'd benefit from a complete change of scenery. We could even leave London.”

Josephine's expression fell. “I love London.”

“Yes,” agreed Lena. “But the healthy fresh air and country amusements . . .”

Josephine continued to look very dubious.

“Warwick University has a first-class science department.” Lena glanced at me. “And it's close to Wolthrop-Fossey.”

“Oh,” said Josephine, and looked at me, and
began to smile. And so did I. “Then that would be brilliant,” she said.

There was a knock at the door, and one of the EDF soldiers looked in.

“The . . . er, spaceship wants to talk to you all.”

Helen had closed her ramp and was hovering over Schiaparelli Lake, the waves flattening under her thrusters.

“You're leaving too, aren't you?” said Carl. We all expected that, I think.

“As long as that's all right?” said Helen anxiously. “Is it all right? The other spaceships can take you the rest of the way home. . . . Does anyone mind very much if I . . . go and look around, a little?”

“Of course it's all right,” Josephine said. “You can do whatever you want.”

“We want you to be happy, Helen,” I said.

“You're the best spaceship I've ever flown,” said Carl.

“Thank you,” said the
Helen
. “Thank you all.” She hesitated. “What's going to happen to my cap—him?” she asked tentatively.

“He'll stand trial, and unless something goes horribly wrong, he'll go to prison,” said Mum.

Helen made a sighing noise. It must be hard for
her, I thought, not loving him anymore, even if it was a good thing.

“You might be needed as a witness,” added Mum.

I tried to imagine a witness box large enough to contain the
Helen
.

“I've sent all my logs to the EDF database,” said Helen. “So I was thinking I would start with Neptune. And then . . . the ice volcanoes of Enceladus. And then . . . did you know there is a planet made of diamond?”

“Say hi to the Goldfish,” called Noel, “if you ever go back to Yaela.”

“Don't stay away forever,” I said. “Come back and tell us what you've seen.”

“Come back and I'll send you more books!” said Josephine.

“I will!” cried the
Helen
, rising. “I will!”

And we waved as she soared away into the pink Martian sky.

Josephine tried to get a last look at her through her telescope, smiled ruefully when that didn't work, and pointed it at the distant tree again instead.

She frowned. “That tree has got flowers growing on it,” she said. “Orange ones.”

“What?” said Dr. Muldoon. “I didn't seed any
flowering trees on Mars.” She took the telescope and sighted down it.

“It must have mutated,” said Josephine.

“I don't know how that got there,” said Dr. Muldoon, sounding provoked and delighted all at once, handing back the telescope. “I don't know how it can be alive.”

Josephine looked at her telescope again with a slightly more indulgent expression and put it away in its pouch.

You can't see Earth from outer space anymore. It's hidden inside the invisibilty shield the Morrors built so the Vshomu don't get in. As we flew home, all we could see was the moon, circling a dark patch of sky.

The EDF ship was a lot less fancy than Helen, all khaki and beige and uncomfortable seats. We'd been debriefed; we'd told the government people everything we could think of about the Grand Expanse and the Krakkiluks and the Eemala and how we'd kind of signed the Earth up for an alliance with Yaela and they might want to do something about that.

“You know what we're going to tell you, right?” said Dad. He and Mum were standing side by side. On this, a team.

I was pretty sure I did. But I didn't say anything, just in case I'd made a mistake.

But I hadn't.

“I clearly got it wrong last time,” said Mum.

“No more space,” said Dad.

I didn't argue. If I had a kid and she went to space, and all the things that happened to me happened to her, I probably wouldn't even let her go to the supermarket.

But I knew that even though it was crazy—one day soon I would want to go back. Well, not to go
back
, to go
on
. I was still greedy for more—Neptune, and cities in gas clouds, and ice volcanoes, and planets made of diamond. . . .