The Faarian Chronicles: Exile (18 page)

Thal went to go fetch something Myrihn had asked for,
leaving me to wander around the market some more.

The McCalls were walking around talking to people, wisely
avoiding the back corner pesticide booth, so I took a closer look at their
booth as I passed. One section was pictures of adorable Ahatu kittens up for
adoption, while the rest of the display was some sort of fencing. When I poked
at the sample, it moved and folded fluidly. What was the point of fencing if it
didn’t keep its shape?
“Kills haratchi on
contact!”
the display read. Did it snare them or something?

“It’s a good thing that’s just a sample, or you’d be lying
on the ground twitching right about now.” John’s deep, laughing voice said from
behind me. I straightened up; my face felt hot and my ears hummed.

“Oh.” I pretended to frown in thought at the fencing, rather
than the strange, unbidden frission that ran through me at the melodic sound of
his voice. What was wrong with me? “So, it’s supposed to be electrified?”

“Well, yeah. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? And it can be
programmed to take whatever shape you need, a dome for example.” He gestured in
an arc above our heads to mimic the rusty, chain-link dome outside.

"Okay. I see.” Yes, I was fine. He didn’t affect me in
the least. No problem.

“So, I see you’ve survived here so far.”

“Yeah,” I replied and subtly moved my hand behind my leg,
out of view.

“Uh-huh. So, what’d you do to your hand?”

“Oh. My first haratchi nest.” I didn’t want to talk about
it.

 “That good, huh?”

“Yeah.” I winced.

“What you need is one of these,” he held up his right hand,
his thumb and forefinger making an L shape. The tips of those two fingers
seemed to be covered with some sort of partial glove. “Way better than the
fencing, if you ask me.”

“What is it?”

“We haven’t come up with a good name for it yet, but it
shoots an electric jolt at whatever you aim for. Enough to knock out a
full-grown haratchi for several minutes or to stun a large nest of hatching
eggs all at once. Watch.” He pointed to an ugly blue dummy with limp, black
fabric for wings set up nearby. “You just press the finger pads together and,”
a jagged, thin bolt of lightning jumped from his fingers to the dummy, leaving
an uneven scorch mark on the cloth-covered chest.

“Cool,” I breathed. “It’s a taser.” A really cool, compact
taser. Even as I spoke, he inexplicably glanced at his dad across the room and
grimaced, dropping his hand to his side before looking back to me.

“Dad keeps insisting it’s not ready for sale because it
hasn’t been fully tested yet. Anyway, what did you call it, a taser? That’s
good. I like it.”

I shrugged. I hadn’t come up with it. “Have you ever been
hit with it?” I wondered what it felt like.

“Me? Yeah actually, I have. It’s like running full-speed
into a brick wall.”

“Awesome.” I laughed, totally impressed. Wish Lyta and
Otrere were here to use as test subjects.

“Not really.” He shook his head and grinned wryly. “Would
you like my new brochure about it? You can read it over when you have time.”

“Yeah, sure.” He started to raise his hand and I held out
mine automatically for him to hand me one, but he only looked at me quizzically
and pressed his thumb to his link.

My link immediately began to vibrate on my belt with an
incoming message. I looked down in surprise, and checked it with my bandaged
hand. It said ‘Data from John McCall. Accept?’ I hit the green button to
accept. That was so cool.

“Nice.”

“You’re so easily impressed.” He laughed. Wow. Okay, hold
on. Not into the husky guy laugh. Really, I assured myself, even though my ears
were still humming.

There was an awkward silence and the tips of his ears turned
red. “Um, ah… are you starting school here?” he asked.

I had to pause. “I don’t know.” I hadn’t really thought
about it. “I guess I’m home-schooling. Again.” I made a face. “My mother’s
already given me an assignment,” I said, thinking of the books I was supposed
to read. “Anyway, is there an actual school around here?”

“Well, yeah. It’s here. At the Kindred,” he said as if
wondering why I didn’t know.

“Oh,” I replied, embarrassed. “Guess my tour didn’t cover
that.”

“But, you couldn’t ask for a better warrior than your
mother, so if she’s teaching you, you’re set.”

“Oh, well gr… wait. You know who my mother is?”

“Well, yeah. There’s only one girl from Earth. Veridian
Katje, the General’s daughter.”

“Sunny,” I corrected. “Sunny Price. I don’t go by Veridian.”

“Right, Sunny. I remember. And in your culture it’s
customary for children to take the father’s last name.”

“Well yeah. Anyway, how’d you know my given name?”

“They’ve been talking about you in the news for weeks now.
Actually, you’re something of a star.” He looked sheepish. “You didn’t know?”

“No.” I noticed Myrihn glowering at us nearby, but chose to
ignore her. “Why would I be in the news?”

“Watch.” He placed his thumb on his link, giving it thought commands,
before setting it flat on his palm. A little holo-news anchor popped up to
stand three inches high, and I recognized that reporter with spiky hair
standing with the port in the background.

“In the culmination of over two years of debate by the High
Council’s Tribunal,” he began, “General Vaeda Katje’s daughter Veridian arrived
today from Earth. She is the first Earthan to arrive on Macawi since the last
migrations some 400 years ago.” The hologram showed a flying saucer landing,
identical to the one we’d both arrived on. It was so strange to see John
holding a little flying saucer in the palm of his hand that I almost didn’t
recognize the tiny people exiting the craft as my shipmates. In their midst
were the Robot, Sensei, and a fuzzed-out spot that had to be me.

“Wait, why am I all fuzzed out?” I asked. He looked at me
quizzically.

“The General is very security conscious,” he said. “No one
from this Kindred ever gives permission for their picture to be shown. Resume,”
he said to the device that had automatically paused.

“Sources say she struggled to acclimate immediately after
her journey through the WorldGate. She was able to resume adequate respiration
under her own power and without supplemental oxygen. It remains to be seen if
she will be able to live a normal life with her Kindred at the edge of the
Great Desert, or if she will be forced to live indoors in an enriched oxygen
environment. We'll keep you posted as more information becomes available. Twyl,
back to you.” The playback cut off and John tapped the thought pad before
putting the link back on his hip.

“See? You’re kind of a first. Earth father, born and raised
on Earth, and then your mother wants to bring you here?” He sounded skeptical.

“Yeah, yeah, they didn’t know if I could survive.” I
sniffed. That darned avalanche. “Well, obviously I’m fine.” Except for that
scene on arrival, and the running yesterday, but, other than that….

Myrihn chose that moment to stop hovering and interrupt.

“It’s not just about you, Veridian,” she said in her
oh-so-superior voice. I gritted my teeth and looked up at the ceiling in
exasperation. “It’s a matter of world security. The High Council debated your
coming here for years for a reason. Your health was only a minor concern,” she
sneered.

“Not only are Earthlings notoriously bloodthirsty, but you
come from the country that invented -
and used
- nuclear weapons against
other humans on their own planet! If your so-called government found out about
Macawi and the WorldGate, there’s no telling what they might do to us.” She
threw up her hands, almost frothing at the mouth with agitation, and glared at
John as if he’d suggested that we call up the President of the United States
and invite him down for a barbeque. He held up his hands in surrender. “Now
quit gabbing and go help Thal with the security desk,” she snapped and walked
away toward the old woman at the organic pesticide booth.

“Hey! We are not bloodthirsty!” I yelled after her. “And
that whole bombing Japan thing was a long time ago anyway!” I shouted, and then
realized people were staring.

“People learn from their mistakes,” I grumbled to John, my
arms crossed defensively. “Now we’ve got all sorts of treaties with other
countries so that no one will use nukes again.” Except maybe against hostile
aliens, I didn’t say aloud, remembering my favorite Will Smith movie. Or
zombies, but then, who wouldn’t bomb zombies?

 “Sunny!” Thal called from the doorway to the stairs.
“Come on!”

"Okay,” I called back. “My cousin, Thal,” I explained.
“Well, maybe I’ll see you again sometime?”

“Maybe.” He nodded with a quick smile as I turned and
started toward Thal.

“Sunny!” he said exasperatedly and motioned to my bag, my
scy and expando platform clearly visible through the mesh. It was still in the
corner from this morning’s gymnastics.

“Oh, right.” I blushed and trotted over to retrieve it. John
was still watching with a thoughtful expression, and his father seemed to be
watching too from across the room.

“Not exactly the kind of stuff you carry around back home,”
I said to John as I passed him again, struggling to tighten the strap across my
chest as I went. I looked up from the twisted strap and blushed even more when
I saw his eyes watching my hands and realized where my hands were. How
embarrassing!

He looked back to my eyes and said quickly, “You guys
wouldn’t have to patrol so much with our fencing. Your mom knows about it but
here, take a look. Maybe you can convince her.” He pressed the thumb-pad on his
phone and mine vibrated again with an incoming message. Cool. Now I had his
number, and he probably had mine.

Maybe he might call me sometime. Just as a normal,
interesting friend, I assured myself as Thal and I went upstairs, thankful when
the humming in my ears finally went away.

We found that when Myrihn said for us to man the security
desk, what she really meant was to clean up the giant mess of
everything
she had left there. A glass keg of honey had broken, leaving glass shards and a
large, sticky puddle that had been tracked all over the place. Dirt and
abandoned bits of debris were ensnared in its sticky web.

“Awww! Mom needed that,” Thal said at the sight.

“Why?” I asked, wondering why we got stuck with the chore of
cleanup.

“Honey has lots of medicinal uses, of course. It’s been used
forever for its antiseptic qualities. It’s in that salve for your hand for one
thing.” I looked down at my bandaged finger. “No wonder the beekeeper was in
such a bad mood. Too bad Myrihn didn’t call us up here when it first happened.
We might’ve been able to save some of it. Now it’s going to take forever to
clean up,” he grumbled.

He was right. We borrowed Ethem’s floor steamer vac, but it
still took us the rest of the afternoon to get all traces of honey and sticky
footprints up from the hall and stairs while shoppers walked in and out around
us. Not long after we started cleaning, John and his father packed up their
display and left.

“Thanks for trying,” the father said to us on their way out.
John gave us a grimace of a smile and stomped out with the wounded dummy under
one arm.

“Trying what?” I asked Thal. “What was that all about?”

Thal went and peeked downstairs. “Oh haratchi farts! That
old woman with the pesticides is in their spot. Myrihn must have moved them.”

“Why? The spots were first come, first served.”

“Yeah, but our kind and theirs don’t always get along. On
account of it being their fault what a mess the world’s in,” he said when I
must have looked confused. “Well, not the McCalls specifically, of course. The
Molinidae.” I shook my head at him. “You really don’t know much of our history,
do you?”

“Sure I do. Anme-Nammu….”

“No, no, no. Much more recent than that, only a hundred
years ago. There were a lot more people back then and we, all the Kindred
farms, were struggling to feed the planet. Faarians are farmers and always have
been. The scientists are almost all Molinidae, except for some doctors like my
mom, who really, wouldn’t be doctors if we still trusted
them
to be our
doctors, you know?”

I shook my head, but he continued without noticing.

“Anyway, Molinidae scientists say it’s all our fault. The
haratchi and the resulting loss of oxygen, all the people who died, even the
affliction, for using too many chemicals on our fields to increase food
production,” he snorted a humorless laugh. “But guess who gave them to us, who
told us they were safe to use? When birds and animals were disappearing, guess
who said, ‘oh no, it couldn’t be the chemicals’? When the haratchi were eating
the forests, who came up with napalm and said, ‘here, try this’?”

“Napalm?” I asked, feeling my face scrunch in disgust.

“Yeah, they even sold some of their formulas to Earth
through an undercover distributor. Real humanitarians, aren’t they?”

“So, it’s Faarian Kindreds against Molinidae scientists,
each one blaming the other,” I said. He nodded. “When it was really both,” I
concluded.

He squinted at me for a second as though he was going to
argue, but then he nodded slightly. “Maybe. I guess. But don’t let other people
hear you say that. Mostly it was them.”

“So what, folks here take it out on people like the McCalls?
How’s
that
fair?”

“What’s fair got to do with it?”

I made a face at him.

“Look, I don’t like it either. I didn’t make them move, did
I? It’s just the way it is.”

I grunted and went back to cleaning the floor, lost in
thought. We were pouring dirty honey water into the water reclamation system
when I shared my conclusion.

“The way it is stinks, Thal,” I said.