Wings of Creation (17 page)

“It’s you and me today. She’s out with Dianne already.”

I raised an eyebrow. I’d not been out without a minder or Tsawo since we got here. “And they’ve asked us to . . . ?”

“Stay here. Check the news. Jenna has some chores for us. After we run.”

Ah. Almost a day off. We could run, and then go somewhere, and then come back. They’d never know. They’d be gone. Dianne and Jenna drove everyone but me as hard as Marcus drove Joseph. I glanced at Jenna. I’d been good for so long that she ought to trust me again. But she didn’t. “No one else is running with us?”

Bryan shook his head.

“Let’s go.”

He pushed a plate of flatbreads and orange fruit at me. I shook my head and lifted my col. “I’ll eat . . . later.” In town. That could be an excuse, too. I drained the col and took my cup over to the sink. Jenna stopped a moment. “Bryan filled you in?”

I nodded.

“When you get back, I want you two to do an analysis of the shipping patterns I downloaded last night. Start with intercity travel: tourists and goods. I’m looking for baseline patterns, and once you get those, for aberrations.”

“Induan would be good at that.”

“She’ll be with me. Paloma’s already out gathering herbs, but she can help you when she gets back.”

“What are you doing?”

“There’s a tour group in town. We’re looking them over and meeting with some of the guides. The tour is people from Paradise and Islas and Silver’s Home all together.”

That made me laugh. “All the warring factions in one place? Studying interplanetary communication?” I often didn’t get what they were looking for. As far as I could tell, they didn’t either—stray bits that would somehow come together. But they brought Induan to watch invisibly.

Never me.

Jenna put a hand on her hip and gave me a stern look. “Don’t be flip. They’ve been all over, and I want to learn more about the various cities without having to visit every one of them. Matriana’s brokering an invite.” At least she had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable. None of us six would be there.

Well, it gave me some freedom. “We’re heading out.”

“If you wait for Induan to get ready, we’ll go with you.”

“I wouldn’t want to throw you off schedule.” Besides, Induan was like me; she could already be in the room and none of us would know. I tried to set off the slightly bitter edge in my tone with a smile. It would be nice to be naïve like Chelo and not see how we were being excluded. But I wasn’t like Chelo, and even though I loved her for worrying about us all, she hated conflict. Too hesitant.

Besides, being alone with Bryan would be a nice break.

And so, five minutes later we’d changed to running gear and grabbed water. We stood side by side, leaning into one of the smooth-trunked trees. Paloma had told me it was called a water-cup tree for the big green flowers it dripped at the ends of its branches. The flowers caught rainwater every night and drank it throughout the day. Birds and insects drank it, too.

Stretching reminded me of every bit of soreness that had come from flying, and I cried out twice. The first time Bryan laughed at me, and I laughed back, but the second time he came over to me and cupped my shoulder in his huge hand. “Are you okay?”

He’d saved me once, a long time ago, and we’d both been to Silver’s Home together. I didn’t even bother to try and fool him. “Flying hurts. I feel left out. I hate it that Joseph and Chelo and everybody else are excited about keeping people we don’t know from getting into a fight we don’t know much about.”

He pulled me close to him, his hold brotherly and warm. “We know some things.”

“Do you trust anything they tell us?”

He nodded. “I trust Jenna. And I trust Joseph and Kayleen to smell lies. They can go places we can’t.”

How come no one had the common sense to question everything? I needed to change the subject. “Catch me?”

Of course, he had to let go of me first. But he did. It was already later than we usually started out, the day warming like every day did at this time. I led, choosing to run away from Fliers’ Field. Starting was slower, here. At first, we raced under sun-dappled leaves, passing flowers and butterflies, and bees that I suspected wouldn’t sting. Then we were in the open, the sun pouring down on us, sweating, racing. I had gotten the hang of speed in lower gravity. Longer strides and managing the bounce helped. Bryan’s extra weight actually gave him an advantage here, and he caught me twice before my stamina let me burst ahead of him, five meters, ten, twenty. I kept it there, teasing him for a bit. After thirty minutes of drawing him after me, I stopped under a small copse of trees, panting in the shade.

He stood beside me, both of us looking out. We’d come close
enough to the spaceport to see it in the distance. He had a broad smile on his face. “Good.” Pant. “Practice.”

He used to say that to us when I raced him on Fremont during Trading Days. Years and lifetimes ago. When we were ten and eleven and twelve. “Always. We must always stay strong.”

He laughed. “Ming practices her dancing every day. She fights and dances all at once, and sometimes she even does it with her nails out.”

“Is that why you like her? She chose the same mod as you?”

He blushed. “She has more than that.”

I bet she did. “Like what?”

He blushed. Sweet and tender and awkward. And silent.

“Why do you like her so much?” I pushed him.

He stared off at the spaceport. His breath was almost normal now, but his face still red. It took him a little while to answer. “Same reason you love Joseph. She’s the first person that ever loved me all for myself.”

He might be a strongman by design, but they hadn’t left out his heart or his brains. I took a long pull from the flask of water on my belt, and he did the same, the two of us comfortable with each other. Happy even.

We were too far away from the spaceport to see details as we watched an ungainly box of a cargo ship land in its own heat shimmer.

“Want to go to town?”

“Let’s run around to the university.”

“It’s a long way.” But who would complain at us running too far? “Sure, let’s go.”

We made it to the School of Heaven’s Flight and Ridiculous Names before the sun was full up. The one time I’d been here before, it had been eerily quiet, but today fliers went in and out of buildings in small clouds of color. Wingless also walked along the paths in groups, chattering. For the first time, I saw a whole string of people in the ugly wings going by just above me. They flew so easily I winced. Maybe Tsawo was right and it would take years before I had beautiful wings.

By now my stomach and my backbone were chatting with each
other about how stupid I’d been to refuse Bryan’s suggestion of food, so the first thing we did was trot slowly through the streets trying to find some.

Bryan smelled it first. Fresh bread. We followed our noses to a busy loft with food laid out on a long table. Winged and wingless crowded the space, and holo projections of various types spun and danced in the air above their tables.

Bryan watched in silence, his eyes narrowed, trying to understand the system. He never jumped right in. I waited, letting him find his bearings. Others watched us back, and it dawned on me that I’d seen few strongmen like Bryan here. But trust him to be practical. “It’s not free,” he said.

Meaning we’d get caught out since a credit transaction would go back to the guest house. “Maybe they’ll miss it. The others probably eat here, too.”

He looked dubious, but surely his stomach was empty, too. It took more energy to run his body this far than mine. “My stomach doesn’t care if we get caught.”

“You never care if we get caught.”

“Do you?”

Of course he did, but he laughed and flexed a bicep. “What are they going to do? Beat me up?”

More like keep us from coming out alone together. Besides, it was eat or hobble back, or maybe not get back at all. No one had altered us enough to eat the air.

I felt deliciously guilty as I ordered col, fruit, and protein bread, and refilled our water bottles. We found a table near the edge of the room. The food was good, but being in the chaos of a busy place was better. After we’d settled, we appeared to blend more than we had standing in the doorway. Snippets of conversation flowed around us.

A pair of fliers passing: “The two-tone ceremony is tomorrow.”

“Who’s playing?”

A shrug. “I’ll see when I get there.”

Another set going the other way: “Are you sky-dancing tomorrow?”

“No. Henrie is convinced I’ll fall.”

“Will you?”

A laugh. “Not if I don’t get to fly in the first place.”

Two wingless women, laughing: “The tall man came from Paradise. That’s why he’s so handsome.”

A giggle in response. “Will you ask him out?”

And faintly, as they faded into the crowd. “Tonight?”

I silently wished her luck and kept listening. Bryan seemed to join me in the endeavor. Our ears were good anyway, and being almost ignored like this, I felt better than I had since we left Silver’s Home. More normal. The daily chatter of a world, which wasn’t centered all on us.

Two flier men flanked a woman, talking loudly since they had to walk a little distance from each other to protect their wingspreads: “Matriana says they’ll know soon.”

“Know what?”

A female answered. “If the Maker can make us better.”

I perked up my ears and kept my head down. The first flier defended us. “Joseph Lee and his sister already saved one world.”

The woman’s voice was more scornful this time. “Does that mean he can save this one?”

“Nothing can save us.”

And then they were gone. Bryan had heard them, too. He gave me a sardonic smile, and stood up. We cleared our table and left, subdued.

Outside, we stopped to look up and down the wide street. Bushes, flowers, and an occasional small stand of perch-trees lined the road. He put an arm across my shoulder. “Joseph will figure it out.”

“What happens if he doesn’t?”

A rustle of wings above our heads drew my attention. The palest lavender wings went by, dotted with great blue circles: the blond female flier we’d seen at the ceremony the day we got here, the only one there who seemed unhappy and almost mean. I whispered in Bryan’s ear, “Do you recognize her?”

“Yes.”

I hadn’t been able to catch the expression on her face, or even to tell for sure that she had noticed us.

I looked over my shoulder once on the way back. She was there. She must have thought her wings blended into the sky more than they
did. Or she didn’t care. I took a few extra steps to catch up to Bryan. “Don’t look now, but blue wings is following us.”

“I’m not surprised. I saw her before.”

“At the feast the first night? She was the only one who looked angry.”

“No. I saw her after, once when I was out running with Ming.”

“So she’s following us.”

“Yes. I think so.”

I didn’t like it one little bit. Why follow us?

O
n the evening of our tenth day on Lopali, we were all in one place. Even Alicia was home, although she sat across the room from me. She appeared completely lost in a conversation with Chelo, Induan, and Kayleen about Caro’s new skills. Liam had brought us each back colorful shirts meant for the tourists. I wore the one he’d brought me, a bright blue like my captain’s coat from
New Making
, with black edging and buttons. He wore a paler blue tunic decorated with moons and stars. He’d chosen fire red with suns for Chelo, and a pale green tunic with images of feathers laid across it in a multitude of colors for Kayleen. Alicia’s shirt was gold on gold, and glittered as light from the windows struck it when she moved. Induan, now a rare sight since she’d been conscripted by Dianne for household planning and security, wore a shirt much like Alicia’s, except that it was white on white, washing her pale features even paler, as if a ghost woman sat in the room with us. The four of them looked like a blooming garden.

I wanted to go run my fingers through Alicia’s dark hair and feel her slender shoulders under my hands so badly it hurt. Apparently now that she was leaving and arriving home at about the same time as everyone else, the idea that Tsawo could be trouble seemed to have gotten lost. I felt it; the distance between us at night was the longest half a meter I’d ever felt. I’d apologized twice even though I didn’t know what I was apologizing for, but she’d only softened far enough
to be polite. I had asked Marcus about Tsawo a few times, but he clearly took it as jealousy.

Sometimes Alicia even slept with her mod on, so unless she was moving, all I could see of her was a shape in the covers, as if my girlfriend had become a wraith.

Jenna cleared her throat, pulling my attention away from Alicia. She stood at the top of the stairs looking down at us. I hadn’t seen that feral look on her face since she’d stopped being hunted, after we left Fremont the first time. Even her body stance was more the old Jenna, the paw-cat hunter and killer of ten-foot-long yellow snakes.

Marcus came down the steps behind Jenna, one hand on her shoulder, protective. They’d been in their room for an hour or so and, where in that hour she’d become the warrior, he’d become sad. They watched while we slowly stopped, until all of us—even the kids—looked up at the two of them.

Marcus spoke first, his face statue-still and his eyes angry. “Islas has declared war on Silver’s Home, and both fleets are heading toward each other.” Why such a production? We’d expected that. He continued, “The Port Authority has upped the fee they’ll pay for anyone who finds Chelo, Joseph, Jenna, or me. We have to be even more watchful, and may have to move into hiding soon.”

As high-profile as we’d already become? Chelo looked at Caro and Sherrel with worry and clutched Liam’s hand. It wasn’t fair she couldn’t have a quiet home and raise her kids, that no place in the world had ever been safe for her.

Marcus clapped his hands before the room could erupt in conversation. “We’re going to redouble our efforts to fly well—in case we need the skill. Not only will that help us blend in, but it will help us escape if we need to.”