Reading the Wind (Silver Ship) (31 page)

“Joseph.” Dianne’s soft voice pulled me back, although
Creator
remained part of me as I ran the threads to the cameras and turned three of them to show on the walls.

One camera showed the big bay, which still held three boxes. No sign of Alicia, Induan, or Bryan.

On another screen, Marcus and Lukas, standing a meter apart. Marcus had his back to me, but his stance looked calm and resolute. My father stood near him, his back to me also.

Lukas’s neat-as-a-pin hair, with the red streak, bobbed up and down as he spoke. Five of his people surrounded him. I recognized Ming, the dark-haired woman who had called the skimmer for us
when we left the port. Her eyes looked up at me briefly, as if she sensed my presence. She was the one who had told me it was Marcus who convinced Lukas to leave me alone when we first landed.

The third camera showed the doorway of the hangar, and a brief quick movement that might have been Alicia or Induan. Not white like the tarmac, but green to match the hangar.

No wonder some boxes remained in the ship’s bay.

I turned on the audio for the hangar door. Alicia’s voice, pitched low: “Can’t we get closer?”

Bryan. “What for? Marcus can handle things.” Good for Bryan.

The audio was two-way, to allow people on the ground to talk to people inside
Creator
. I held my tongue though, afraid the people outside would hear me, if I spoke.

Bryan, sounding more insistent. “Come on—let’s get
Creator
loaded.”

“In a minute.” Alicia snapped at him. “I need to know what’s going on. We can’t see everyone that came in that skimmer. Where are the others? Is there a back entrance?”

Dianne cleared her throat. “There is no back entrance. But there is probably trouble.”

I zoomed the camera out. Six uniformed Port Authority people hugged the wall just around the corner from Marcus’s line of sight. The leader made a come-on gesture just as I spotted them, and the group broke into a jog. I spoke into the microphone. “I see you. You do not have permission to enter here.” They stopped, momentarily confused. “Close the door,” I hissed. It probably wouldn’t open for any of them.

Alicia got the message and spit an answer at me. “I don’t know how!”

Dianne, behind me. “There is a palm-pad on the door. It will close for anyone.”

“Palm-pad. On the door.”

A second of silence.

The crowd outside rushed the door.

“Got it.”

“Come back,” I insisted.

“Not until I know the door is shut.”

Damn her. Bryan’s voice, directed at me. “I’ll get her.” I couldn’t see any of them, but I pictured him picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.

I tried to watch all three cameras. Bryan and the two girls should show up on the hold camera any moment.

“The door.” Dianne’s voice, urgent.

The big door hadn’t yet slid all the way closed.

The lead Authority person stuck a foot into the opening, and the door stopped. “What the—?” I exclaimed.

“Safety feature,” Dianne said. “There should be an emergency override.”

Outside, my father bolted toward the door. Ming took off after him. Marcus, Lukas, and the others held their positions.

Why didn’t Marcus do something?

Something tugged at me. Marcus, from inside the webs. “Are you ready?” he asked.

I blinked, nodded. “Sure.”

“Strap in. You’ll have to fly. Hold until I tell you when.” The engines started. Surely he started them, although he appeared to just be standing, talking to Lukas, ignoring the melee by the door. Lukas ignored it as well, keeping Marcus fixed in his gaze. I’d bet money they were both holding at least two conversations, even though Lukas was no Wind Reader.

I fumbled with the soft straps, struggling to get the cool metal buckles to close without taking my eyes off the camera views. Dianne’s eyes widened and she began to do the same.

Bryan, Alicia, and Induan raced through the corridor door into the big room.

Jenna screeched, “Grab the boxes!”

They slowed, fear flashing on their faces, but they obeyed her, grabbing boxes before coming on up the ramp.

The ship registered them as onboard. “Strap down,” I called out.

There. That was who I cared about. I’d wait, though, for my father. If there was time. If he could get through the security goons. I glanced back up at the screen. The door finished closing. The only people left outside were Lukas’s people, and Marcus.

My father had made it.

Marcus. “Close your eyes. Connect fully to
Creator
. I’m connected, too. I’ll stick with you as far as I can.”

I needed to know. “What did Lukas come for?”

Silence. A long beat when I and Marcus breathed in unison. Our connection wasn’t voice; it was the deep, intimate knowing we’d shared when I flew in, and more. Much more. I knew his soul. And he was torn. “They claim that if you fly in and fight Islas, it will be made into the first strike in the war between the five planets.”

“What if I go, and just get Chelo?”
Creator
was ready. I was ready. “What if we—if we don’t fight?”

“Then Lukas will be wrong.”

“And if we do more, he’ll be right?” I breathed out, a long slow breath, mine alone.

“Joseph.” His energy had gathered, strengthened, become more sure. “Joseph. Neither Lukas nor I know what you will find. Do what you need to do. It’s all any of us ever can.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the ship fully, fitting her to me like skin. I couldn’t see; I had to trust. Marcus in my very being, speaking and not. “Close
Creator
’s door.”

I did. The ship’s engines rumbled louder. Marcus again. “I’m opening the top of the hanger for you. Your course is already set.” A small part of me felt what he did, how he tripped a mechanism and the ceiling began to slide away. Most of me rode the power and water and air and engines of the ship.

I was ready.

Creator
was ready.

We waited.

Familiar steps. Jenna, coming in to the Command Room. I heard her strap in. I checked on the others. Six more bodies, all prepared, strapped into chairs that worked as acceleration couches, scattered throughout various rooms in twos.

The ceiling clicked fully open.

Blue sky beckoned above us.

Six bodies?

Dianne, to me. “We have someone extra.”

And I was so far down, so deep into the ship, that I barely heard
Jenna whisper, “Ming,” as I, as
Creator
, bolted from the hangar and flew, a silver arrow shot from Silver’s Home for Fremont. Once again, I flew against the Port Authority’s wishes.

I whooped, and in the far background of my heart, I heard Marcus say, “Good Journey.”

I reached out and embraced his energy, so that he and I and the ship were together one being, and I held tight, knowing that soon enough it would be just me and
Creator
, and all of us on board her.

Maybe we could beat the mercenaries.

F
or the first time in a week, the sun shone warm and strong. We had survived winter. Back home the bands would be gathering without us.

Liam and I walked slowly, hand in hand, up the path toward home. We’d stolen quiet time together, still vexed by uncertainty over how to treat Kayleen. “So you still aren’t sure what you want to do?” I asked.

“No. Yes. I hate this.” His face grew softer. “The Kayleen I know now wouldn’t have kidnapped us.”

“I know.” And he’d been spending more time with her. I decided not to push him, sure that time would draw us all together. Maybe I was ready. “It’s good to dry out.”

“Survival of the soaked.” As Kayleen had called our experiences this winter. “At least we didn’t starve.”

“We do seem to be stuck here,” I said.

“Yes.” He glanced up at the mountains, their snowy tops so bright he had to squint. Sunshine warmed the rocks and called new green shoots out of the damp earth.

Spring had woken more than plants. The ground shivered under us for the second time that day, knocking me from my feet. Liam grimaced as he offered me a hand up. “I don’t like this.”

“Me either.”

We found Kayleen with Windy in the paddock, crooning at the now full-height hebra as if she were a child. Kayleen looked concerned as
we came up. “Windy hates the quakes. I’m scared she’ll break through the fence.”

Liam clambered up on the bars. “She seems pretty spooked. It’s not as if she’s never felt an earthquake.”

Kayleen worked at a tangle in Windy’s greenish-white beard. “These are worse than the last ones.”

Liam eyed rocks jutting from the sheer mountainside above us. He frowned. “We should move away from the cliffs.”

Windy grabbed our attention. She jerked her head up, extending her neck so she looked out above us by almost a meter. Her nostrils distended and she stamped her right front hoof twice. Liam spoke quietly to Kayleen. “Get the long-line. I want to move into the open between the waterfall and the path.”

Kayleen vaulted over the rails and returned quickly with the longest lead we had. I opened the gate to let her through. The ground shivered again. As Windy bolted toward the opening I kicked the gate shut. The hebra bugled as she fetched up hard against the barrier. Kayleen, who had kept her feet, threw the rope over Windy’s neck and used it to gently tug the hebra’s head down far enough to grab her halter and clip on the lead.

Before I had the gate more than a quarter open, Windy raced through it, pulling Kayleen quickly behind her. Liam and I scrambled after them.

We’d only gotten a few meters when the earth heaved. A loud rumble startled me. I looked up just as the cliff above the waterfall slumped, pouring down, mixing with the waterfall, a great clashing and rattling of rocks.

We scrambled to the biggest open spot in West Home: the small clearing we’d seen the tall-beasts grazing in when we first found the valley.

Windy pranced, edging away. Kayleen lay on the ground, holding the end of the lead taut, calling, “Windy! Windy! Stop.” The hebra stopped, then bolted the other direction, nearly running over Kayleen.

A huge rumbling cracked the air open, loud enough that I clapped my hands over my ears.

Liam pointed west. The sky above the Fire River billowed with black clouds. “Eruption,” he gasped.

As if to underscore his words, the ground shivered yet again. And continued. We were all on the ground except Windy, who had pulled free of Kayleen but stopped nearby, her feet braced, the whites of her eyes showing.

We held position for long moments, the ground bucking under us. A tree toppled and fell into its neighbors.

A gray-black cloud billowed impossibly high before it spread, staining the sky.

Small rocks rattled down from the cliff. A boulder twice my size landed in the middle of the paddock, narrowly missing the fence.

The three of us huddled close. Liam put one arm around each of us, keeping his eyes on the sky.

The earthquakes had stopped.

We scrambled up, shaking, all of us staring, transfixed by the huge column of steam. “Be glad the wind’s blowing away from us,” Liam said.

Kayleen recovered Windy, keeping her close. The hebra sniffed at the air, head and ears up, butting close to Kayleen.

Liam braved a short trip to the house, immediately returning to our side with water. He sat, furiously drawing in his journal, sketching the sky and the clouds, and the way the waterfall now fell onto a huge boulder and splashed to the edges of the pool.

I moved next to Kayleen, scratching Windy’s flank, trying to soothe the frightened beast.

A few birds began tentative notes, a sign of calm, but nowhere near the normal raucous chattering.

Kayleen leaned into me. “I’m scared, Chelo. That’s not too near, but what if the peak above us goes? Does one eruption spawn another?”

I reached for her hand. “I don’t know. It scares me, too. It’s worse than demon dogs. Did you check the perimeter?”

She handed me Windy’s lead and closed her eyes. “It’s okay. One node isn’t reporting in, but two others patched around it. I’ll look at it.” She opened her eyes and shivered. “Later. When I’m sure it’s safe.”

As if we were ever sure of safety here.

By mid-afternoon, Islandia had calmed except for the great dark cloud eating more and more of the sky. “Come on, Kayleen,” I said. “Let’s put Windy away and make something to eat. I’m starved.”

She stared up at the ridge above us, shaking her head.

Liam closed his journal. “I have a better idea. Let’s take some snacks and walk down-valley. We’ll still be in the open that way, and I want to find a place to see better.”

We followed his plan, except that Windy and Kayleen took off at a run and we raced behind them, making it down to the sea in less than an hour. We fetched up a few yards from the cliffs, looking back toward Islandia’s teeth. Ridges and small hills blocked a clear view. All we could tell was that the eruption had happened near Blaze. Liam snorted. “I think we’d have to go down to where we camped and saw the river for a good view.” He glanced up and down the coastline. “And I don’t think we should do that now.”

“I don’t want to get any closer,” I said.

Kayleen nodded, still clutching Windy tight, her brow damp with sweat. “We could camp out here. I can go back and get gear.”

“No.” The eruption cloud had started to darken the sky above us. “I’d rather risk rock falls at West Home than demon dogs, and besides, I think the wind is changing.”

Before we made it halfway home, walking this time, white and gray ash fell like snow. It snuck into our noses and mouths so we coughed and spat into the ash-fogged air, which stank of fire. We tied our shirts over our mouths to breathe and stopped from time to time to wipe Windy’s face.

We saw almost nothing but each other, ghostly and insubstantial, shuffling through ash almost to our ankles by the time we reached the rocky part of the path that led into our hidden valley.

Once more, we had almost lost each other. The thought made it hard to breathe. What if one of us died? If we had been in the paddock when the rock fell? What then?