Chapter Seven
Alicia
Induan and I sat side by side on a bench, included in the circle of fliers. We were both visible, but who would see us in the midst of so much beauty? She slapped me lightly on the arm. “Alicia. Close your mouth or a bug will land in it.”
I did, but I couldn’t stop watching. The last few fliers rose smoothly from their perches, feathers rustling. A man with blue wings landed on the grass near us, leaning forward to keep the tips of his wings off the ground. A slender pink-winged woman landed on a stone, standing comfortably, talking to a few of the people with no wings. She belonged in a painting or an animation instead of in the real world, and I wanted to touch her to see if she was real. Three others flew away entirely, fast. After all of the perches were clear, I stood and stretched, finally, belatedly, looking for Joseph. I saw his back as he and Marcus walked away, lost in conversation.
He should have looked for me first. At least to say he had to ignore me for a while longer. There should have been infinite time to be together on space ships, but there hadn’t been. Not once Marcus found us. A flash of loneliness drove a bitter smile.
“Shake it off,” Induan said. “He has duties. You and me, we’re less important. That means we’re free.”
“Yeah.” I turned my gaze back to the fliers. “Aren’t they the prettiest people?” I remembered how the first fliers I saw waddled awkwardly through the full gravity of Silver’s Home, pain lining their faces. “I mean here, where they belong.”
Induan’s laugh came out kind. “You’ve got Space Ship Shock.”
“Huh?”
“You know. When you’ve been locked up in a big tin can for years and you finally get onto a planet and everything looks big and beautiful?”
But it was. “Did you feel like that when you got to Fremont?”
“Until I realized everything had sharp edges.”
It was my turn to laugh. “That should have taken five minutes.” Two.
I looked around. The ground was rolling grass, nano-bot-trimmed like in the parks on Silver’s Home. Purple and yellow flowers held their petals open to catch the last rays of sun, and beside them, a line of white flowers had already closed for the night. Hills rolled away in all directions. We were high enough up to see the humped bellies of the closest hills, dotted with people and fliers and gardens. “I don’t see any edges here. The fliers are beautiful.”
Induan smiled faintly, then nodded, both unconvincing. “Fliers make strange allies. They’re unpredictable in interworld politics.”
I shrugged. “Can you blame them? They can’t even walk on some of the worlds.”
“Don’t underestimate them.”
Oh no. They must be powerful. More than that. Graceful. Calm. I wanted to be one.
We snacked on a few of the richly scented grapes that exploded sugar into our mouths. No one bothered us, although from time to time I caught a flier or a wingless looking at us out of the corner of their eye, or offering a small smile. It felt weird to be watched. “Let’s take a walk. See what they’re like in the wild.”
She understood my unspoken meaning.
We found a bathroom and slipped in. We waited for two normal-looking women, and a tall slender man who looked like he should have wings, to leave before we turned our mods on. I liked switching on in bathrooms; the nano had to think about how to reflect the wall behind us into the mirrors. It took enough time that for the space of a breath or two I looked infinite.
Outside, we climbed invisibly, and cautiously, down the hill. Induan led me through groups of fliers and around flower beds, both of us careful how we set our feet. It wouldn’t do to be caught. The fliers might feel spied on, and Marcus would be mad for sure.
Globe-shaped lights brightened against the dark. In a few cases, groups of fliers sat on rock formations filled with crystalline structures like the geodes we used to bring back to trade with the townies on Fremont, except twenty or thirty times as big. Some crystals were artificially lit from within, as if fires burned inside the faceted stones.
A few fliers wore swirls of tiny ribbons braided in their hair or woven into necklaces, lit at the ends so the fliers who wore them glowed. I didn’t dare talk since we didn’t know how good the flier’s hearing might be. Instead, it seemed like we glided silently through a fairyland of wonders, Induan and I holding hands so we didn’t lose each other.
Farther away from the central hill, there were fewer and fewer wingless. The few we did see all moved with purpose, bringing plates and bowls of seeds and breads and grapes to knots of fliers lost in conversation.
Induan pulled me to a low mound of rounded rocks. “Watch the regular humans,” she whispered into my ear. “Tell me what you see. Quietly.”
Twice in the ship, we’d been caught talking while invisible. I leaned my head into hers. We could talk quieter if we touched skulls. “That one’s tall, like he was meant to be a flier but no one put wings on him. The woman over there must be an original human. She’s no bigger than me.”
“What are they doing?”
“Well … they’re waiting on the fliers.” I’d noticed that already. “They don’t look unhappy. I mean, look, they’re all smiling. I’d wait on the fliers to be near them.”
“You’re addled. Do you think the fliers are better than you?”
She wanted me to say no, but I couldn’t get the word out. “Maybe.” Her hair tickled my cheek as she shook her head. When she’d stilled again, she said, “The Wingmakers designed them to make you feel inferior. They’re taller and prettier and they can do something all humans want to do; fly by themselves. They also made them martyrs, and slaves. Since they can’t have their own babies, the guild controls both an income flow and their culture. The Wingmakers created a being no one would ever kill, so they could watch it grow. They even made Lopali first, designing it for the fliers while the fliers were cartoons on a drawing board.”
She almost sounded like she admired that, and yet disapproved. But then, it was probably a good strategy, and Induan liked a good chess move. “Isn’t that what they want Joseph and Marcus to change?” I asked.
“If they can do it. Marcus is good, and so’s your boyfriend, but the fliers’ guild isn’t exactly bad.” She hesitated. “And if no one kills them first. If the fliers win, someone will lose.”
I hadn’t thought of Joseph maybe getting killed for this. Induan tugged on my hand, the angle telling me she’d stood. She started us walking toward a small crowd of fliers. Always the strategist, she’d said something shocking, and now she was making sure I couldn’t respond right away.
She led me around the crowd, and stopped with us standing between a flowerbed and a rock, which probably meant no one would step into us by accident. I didn’t say anything, just stopped and listened.
A few of the fliers’ voices were raised. We weren’t terribly close, but I caught a few words here and there. I heard Joseph’s name. Every once in a while, whole sentences would emerge clearly from the conversation. “Meddling …” cut off by “Daniel’s out of his mind. He can’t commit …” and then someone else saying, “… can’t fight.”
Induan’s hand tightened on mine.
“There’s almost enough of us,” a white-winged flier said.
“Patience,” said another one, and then too many people were talking at once again. I wanted to go closer. I stepped over the flowers, but Induan pulled me back so hard I almost fell.
I couldn’t ask her what she was doing. We needed to know what the argument was about. I tried again, tugging her gently in the direction of the group.
She pulled on me so hard my shoulder hurt.
We were both strong. But she was better—she locked my arm behind me and walked me a few meters away before hissing, “Quiet. Let’s go.”
I started to answer her but she slid a hand over my mouth. “Save the risks for another time. We can’t get caught tonight.”
On the way back to our own people, I kept my eye out for a feather to give Joseph. Maybe he was going to need luck.