The Silver Ship and the Sea (21 page)

Joseph came and circled me in his arms, a hard hug full of energy and excitement. “It’s not just the threads…I can still feel the network. Remember, even yesterday, I felt the nodes.” He released me and stood close, but not touching. “And now, I don’t need your touch to keep feeling them, although I think I did to get started. I feel like I’m being tuned.”

“Tuned?”

“Becoming more like myself.” He frowned, looking deeply, earnestly into my eyes. “I didn’t know before that this was something Dad could do—I don’t really remember him at all. Not like you do.”

“I can’t see his face anymore. I remember Chiaro more, and the day she brought us to town. It must have been the same day everyone left.” I thought about Tom and Paloma’s story. “The day we were almost murdered. She had all six of us, and everyone was old enough to walk, but Liam and Alicia could barely manage. Chiaro’s face and her side were bloody. She kept telling us to hurry. She took us to Commons Park, and we all had to hold hands the whole way. You could barely walk, and Liam and I pulled you between us.”

The memory made me shiver. “A group of people came and Chiaro talked to them. There were a lot of them. She fell. Her blood stained the grass. She was asking the people to take care of us, and then Therese and Steven led us all away.”

Joseph was quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. “I wish we remembered more about Dad. I’m glad I’m like him, that we have the same mods.”

My sleepy thoughts about goals came back to me. “What do you want? For us? We
will
be adults. I want us to be free adults.” I pointed out a meteor flashing briefly above the dark silhouette of the crater rim. “What can Nava do? They won’t kill us, not now. They need us.

“But do we want to just be part of the colony? Do we want to help lead it? We could become our own band of roamers.”

He held his hand out, and I took the reader off my head and placed it in his palm. He closed his fist around the band, and held it up to his eye level, watching it closely, as if it were a bird or a
flower. “It depends, Chelo. It depends on what we learn. Right now, I want to use this to learn what Jenna knows. We’ve learned more this week than in all of the years before. I want to understand who we are, and then maybe I can answer your question.”

It would take time for me and Kayleen and Alicia to watch the projector, for any of us to communicate with Liam and Bryan, for Joseph to understand how to use the headband. It seemed important to come to a shared goal, to include all of us. Maybe even including Jenna. “Think about it, little brother. This trip won’t take forever, and we need a direction before we return to Artistos. We will need to know what we want to be when we grow up before we can bargain to get it.”

He nodded, tying the headband back over his dark hair. It was surely a trick of the moonlight, but he looked older, as if even his shape had changed overnight and become nearly a man’s shape. Faith, the largest moon, hung over Joseph’s head and the smaller Hope reflected in his eyes as he looked up to meet mine. “And what do you want?”

“I want to be happy. I want to prove to all of them that we are true humans, I want the freedom to make our own decisions. I want full access to their databases, and to ours. Now we know we have our own.” I chewed on my lip. “I want our own culture, side by side with theirs.”

He laughed. “You may have to fight to get all that.”

“I don’t want any wars.” I yawned. “I want to sleep.”

Joseph bounced on the balls of his feet. He stretched, tall, as if he were reaching for the sky. “I’m not sleepy. Will you go in and wake Alicia up, then? She can help me watch until dawn.”

“All right. But remember to be watchful. We’re not out here just to talk.” I gave him another hug. “Glad to have you back. I’ve missed my happy brother.”

He kissed me on the cheek, his lips warm and dry. “Thanks for being there. You’ve always been there for me.”

I returned his kiss. “Good night.”

As I walked quietly back to the cabin I wondered again about Jenna. Was she nearby? What did she want?

Three more meteors streaked the sky. Simultaneously, our small boundary bells rang the lowest possible earthquake tones and the ground shivered under my feet, once, and again.

I didn’t go back and check on Joseph. A quake would not spook him tonight.

The next morning I rubbed at crusted gritty eyes as the even light of midmorning poured in through the one window. It felt like I’d slept minutes, even though the light promised hours had passed. It hurt to sit up.

The only movement in the room was Paloma’s right arm, where she sat propped in the single stream of sunlight. Her fingers spun over the paper, drawing a field of blue flowers over green grass, dipping rhythmically in and out of the jar of blue ink; a contrast to the stillness of the rest of her body. She smiled at me, then flicked her eyes toward Joseph and Alicia, her smile twisting to puzzled question.

They slept close together, under a single green blanket. Alicia’s long hair covered her face. His face slack with sleep, Joseph looked both content and young. His right hand clutched the headband, and the other held the blanket up over both of them. It looked like Alicia had an arm thrown over his waist, although I couldn’t be sure because the blanket covered them.

Yesterday, I had promised myself I’d think about this today, and I shut my eyes briefly, sighing. I looked at Paloma and opened my hands in a gesture of futility.

She grimaced, a sign she wasn’t much happier than I was about the situation, and whispered, “Good morning. They just came in at dawn. Would you help me to the outhouse?”

I nodded and pushed myself up. My legs protested at the idea
of movement and my hands still stung from yesterday’s adventures. Offering Paloma an arm, I helped her up. Joseph and Alicia didn’t even stir as we walked carefully past them and through the door, shutting it quietly. A warm fall day greeted us, the sky a cloudless soft blue, the hills dotted with little scraps of yellow and red signaling the near-elm and fall ladies turning with the season.

Paloma leaned on me, letting me take much of her weight every other step. Her head came just past my shoulder, and this close, little gray wisps showed against her blond hair. Dry leaves crunched under our feet, even though small mud puddles still filled low spots.

“Where are Kayleen and Tom?” I asked.

“They went to the node.” She must have misinterpreted my startled look, because she said, “Yes, Tom remembered Joseph asking to work on it. He’s just having Kayleen tell him what she thinks is wrong.”

I suspected they’d be back soon, but didn’t say it out loud. “Do you have any idea what I should do about Joseph and Alicia?”

Paloma grimaced at a slight wrong step, but kept her balance. “Has Joseph talked to you about Alicia?”

I shook my head. “I think Alicia started it.”

“Well, she must feel very lost out here. Are you sure you want advice?”

I grinned. “Can’t hurt.”

“If you tell teenagers not to do something, they often think it’s a great idea. You may be his sister, but you’re older than both of them by a couple of years.” She smiled up at me. “Almost an adult yourself. If I were you, I’d encourage Joseph to talk, but I’d only offer advice if he asks. Tom and I can keep them from being alone together too much by making sure they are on different watches.”

“He asked me to wake her up last night. I was so tired I didn’t even think about it, but they were alone for hours.”

“Well, Tom’s caught up some on sleep. We could make sure either me or Tom is awake all the time.”

That wouldn’t help us try out the projector. “Maybe I’ll just take a watch with Alicia tonight. You need to rest enough for your ankle to heal.”

She laughed. “I don’t need that much babying. We’ll work it out.” She stopped for a moment to catch her breath. “It might be best to stay out of it until one of them approaches you, which they will if they don’t see you as an enemy.” She sighed. “Don’t, by the way, be sure that you can or should stop them. Regardless of what people in Artistos think, you all will pair up sometime.”

I remembered Liam’s farewell kiss on the top of my head, and the feel of Bryan’s arms around me the last day before we left. “I know. It just seems we should wait until the discussion in Artistos is over. Until we have our freedom as adults.”

Paloma laughed, a friendly laugh tinged with irony. “You’re delusional. Being an adult does not make you free, and emotions seldom honor reason.”

I frowned and helped her step carefully down a steep spot.

We arrived at our destination, took turns, and started our return trip. Tom and Kayleen met us on the way back, just outside the cabin. “All of them?” Tom’s tone told me he was talking into his earset, probably to Nava. “I’ll call you back.” He tapped the set to close the connection, and when he looked at me his jaw was still tight and the little muscles near his ears trembled. He looked angry, both with us and with Nava. “What did you do last night? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He didn’t need to be mad at Joseph for doing what he’d asked him to do. I smiled up at him, trying to counter his anger. “Well, I haven’t seen you since I woke up. I’d be happy to tell you now.”

His expression settled some, relaxing. “I’m sorry. We’re all tired.” He swiped at his eyes, as if underscoring the point. “Kayleen and I went to fix this node, and it had been done. Then Nava called and said the whole lake ring is working this morning. Did Joseph do all that?”

I nodded. “Last night, while we were on watch. He was happy he figured out how to get back into it. You should have seen
him—he was almost dancing. Remember, he’s been able to read the nodes since before we went hunting. He just couldn’t change them until last night. I don’t know what he figured out.”

Kayleen clapped her hands together. “I knew it was Joseph.”

Tom looked puzzled, and gestured at the Fremont data reader he held in his right hand. “Well, he fixed more in one night than he would have been able to in three days before all this.” He narrowed his eyes. “Did Jenna teach him anything? Does it have something to do with that thing she gave him?”

I shook my head. “I asked him the same question. He said no. Besides, remember? He
was
reading the nodes before we went with Jenna. She didn’t tell him anything about how to fix them except to suggest he stop being afraid—the same advice you’ve been giving him. She told me she can’t do it, that she’s as deaf to them as I am.”

Tom frowned. “Yeah, we used to worry about her. Jenna seems to be able to slide through the perimeters as if they aren’t there—the
altered
all seemed to do that.” He paused. “Except you six. But we never found any evidence that she changed anything.”

“We didn’t set off the alarms yesterday when we were with her.” Was Jenna honest with us about not reading data like Joseph and Kayleen? Or did she know some other trick?

Tom just shook his head quietly. “I wish I knew how she did that. I better wake Joseph up and ask him about the nodes. Nava’s wanting some answers.”

Kayleen stepped over near me and Paloma, and smiled up at Tom. “Isn’t this what she wanted? For him to fix things? Just tell her he did what she wanted and let him sleep. He’s exhausted.”

Tom sighed and touched Kayleen’s shoulder lightly. “Maybe you’re right. It’s been a tough few days. Nava and Gianna are compiling a list of what’s fixed and what’s not. They’ll send it to me. I’ll call Nava back and confirm that Joseph did the fixing, and let her know he’s sleeping.” He started to turn away, then he glanced back at Paloma. “Here, I’ll help you back. Kayleen and Chelo can tend the hebras.”

So I lost my chance to ask Paloma more questions, but gained a long-overdue opportunity to fill Kayleen in on our trip with Jenna. I took it, telling the story in order as we led the hebras out for food and water one at a time. Predictably, she asked a hundred questions I had no answer for. After we tied the last hebras back onto the line, she grinned at me, her eyes bright with excitement. “So, let me see the projector.”

I glanced at the cabin. No movement. We stood behind the hebras, out of direct line-of-sight, and I slid the small box out of my pocket and handed it to her. She fingered it, and held it up. It appeared seamless. She immediately drew the same conclusion I had. “So, however this works, maybe the
New Making
works the same?”

“It looks like it’s made out of the same stuff.” I showed her how to open it, how the data button nestled inside the box, fitting perfectly.

She closed her eyes, holding the box in both hands close in to her belly, swaying gently. “I feel it. Like—but not like—our data. I felt it more when the box was open, as if the box itself hides some of the buttons…I don’t know what word to use. Attention? Signal?”

“I still don’t feel anything from either.”

She opened her eyes, an excited smile on her face. “Turn it on.”

“Not here.” We
would
have to take some risks to use it at all. I’d been afraid to use it last night, even though the watch with Joseph would have been safe enough, in retrospect. “We need to come up with a reason to be away from Tom and Paloma.”

“Well, let’s go pick berries.” She grinned, still excited, reminding me of Joseph the night before. “I’m hungry anyway. But we better ask. I’ll go.” She handed me back the projector and bounded toward the cabin. The uncomfortable feeling of widening deception felt only slightly weaker than the burning feeling of knowledge I’d wanted—no, needed—all my life, sitting in my pocket.

Kayleen returned with two earsets and a backpack to carry the berries back in. “Tom sent these just in case we get into trouble.”
She led. “Tom and I found three pongaberry trees yesterday. You can practice.”

I groaned.

She gave me a sly grin. “But you don’t have to take your shirt off.”

“Good.” I followed her for almost ten minutes. We passed through the boundary, setting the exit bells ringing. It
would
be handy to have a way to pass barriers unheralded. Something else to ask Jenna about. We wound up a path lined with spiky green and gold trip-vine, stepping carefully to avoid being caught or scratched.

Kayleen stopped at the base of the biggest of three pongaberry trees and kicked her shoes off. She had a silly grin on her face. “Race you?”

I shook my head ruefully, kicking off my own shoes. Watching Jenna was one thing, but getting up the tree myself was sure to be another. The dun and dark brown bark ridges ran vertically, making for bad toeholds, and the trunk of the smallest tree rose a full twelve meters before there was a branch to grab. Sighing, I stood at the bottom of the tree, feeling the rough deadfall leaves and small branches through the soles of my bare feet. I set one hand on the tree, trying to remember how Jenna had started up.

Kayleen called to me, and I glanced over to find her halfway up, her long feet acting almost like extra hands.

I tried a little leap up the tree trunk. One foot found barely acceptable purchase and the other slid off, pulling me down to my knees. I tried again, with nearly the same result, then stood still, eyeing the tree. It had to be about strength and balance. Jenna had been almost vertical. I started over, my belly near the rough bark, using both of my hands to grab halfway around the bole. That way, I managed a full two meters before I lost it and fell down, stinging the soles of my feet.

Kayleen waved at me from the bottom of the branches of her tree, her face framed in the wide green and yellow leaves, laughing.

I made it ten meters, and stopped, stuck, afraid to go back down, unsure how to go up. My arms twitched and shivered at the strength required to hold on. Kayleen called down, “Relax.”

I closed my eyes. Surely this wasn’t as hard as it looked, as it felt. Jenna did it with one arm. I could do it with two. I started back up, slowly, carefully, one step, another, another, keeping my belly close to the tree. I didn’t look up or down, just at the bark in front of me, picking out the imperfections in color and the places wood-ants or summer moths nested.

I counted breaths and slow unsure steps.

My head bumped something hard. A branch. I reached up, found a firm grip, and climbing became easier, stepping in the cracks where the branches met the trunk, pulling up, finally enclosed in so many wide green leaves and broad branches they got in my way. The end of each leaf sported a nasty thorn, and one raked across my shoulder, drawing a thin bead of blood. I looked around. No pongaberries.

Kayleen now stood at the bottom of my tree. “Up and to your left.”

I followed her directions, finally locating a big bunch of berries. Looking past them, I saw the meadow, then picked out the hebras and the line of smoke from the cabin’s fire. The midday sun danced on the lake and reflected points of light all along the streams that cut through the valley. I glanced down, and wished I hadn’t. Kayleen looked very small.

I reached for the stem, pulling, tugging harder than I expected to have to. The stem separated from the branch with a snap and I nearly lost my balance, nearly dropped the berries. I stuck the stem in my teeth, like Jenna had, and headed down-trunk. Down was easier, but even so, I earned two new scratches on my right forearm and slipped the last few meters. Kayleen had to catch me to keep me from landing on my butt. Lucky for her, she had the good grace to hold her face neutral, and say, “Good job.”

I breathed a sigh of relief to see her holding two bunches of fat purple berries. We had enough.

We sat near each other on the ground, the berries next to us, and I slipped the box out of my pocket and showed Kayleen how to turn it on. It still held the button Jenna had placed in it in the
cave, and the first image to shimmer into being was of Silver’s Home. “That’s the place we saw in the cave, Kayleen, the planet Jenna called Silver’s Home.”

Kayleen—eyes round with amazement—watched tiny silver ships like
New Making
fly through the air three feet in front of us, above the image of the strange planet; constructs of light with no substance. The projection drew my attention from Kayleen, from the world around me, so that, like Kayleen, I watched closely, entranced.

We saw a planet full of energy and people and ships, a planet that was owned by our people, like Fremont was owned by its predators and its wildness.

There was no sound until Kayleen found a way to stroke the box to produce a narrator’s voice that spoke softly into the mountain-fern and redberry that surrounded us. It took me a moment to be sure it was our language. The accent was a little off, the vowels more rounded, the words spoken faster than we spoke. Enough words were entirely unfamiliar that I couldn’t pull meaning from the monologue.