Crystal Rain (40 page)

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Authors: Tobias S. Buckell

BOOK: Crystal Rain
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At the top of the Capitol City wall facing the Azteca, Haidan sat with Dihana in the dark night. Overhead Capitol City blimps made patrol circles and flicked spotlights at the ground outside the wall.
Earlier in the week it had been covered in Azteca tents and warriors. Now the battlefield was quiet.
Another blimp left the city, flying out into the darkness to follow the long trail of Azteca retreating back toward the Wicked Highs.
Down along the wall Dihana heard the clink of pots over fires as men heated tea. Laughter and conversation drifted in the air.
People had returned to the streets. Market reopened tomorrow, and Dihana had lifted all forms of curfew.
Haidan sipped a cup of maubi. “It go take almost a month to get them back into they land. But they truce holding.” Haidan shook his locks.
“Haidan, do you think I made the right choice?” Dihana asked.
He took a deep breath. “I think you make the only choice you could have make.” He took another sip.
“When the city finds out, they will come to tear me from limb to limb.”
“I protect you.”
Dihana wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t think I want to be protected, Haidan.”
He looked at her, surprised. “What you saying?”
“I don’t want to do it anymore. Running the city. No one person should ever have to make the choice I made in that forsaken conference room, Haidan. How many mistakes did we all make, acting alone? Haidan, I’ve done the most horrible thing a Capitol City person has ever done.” She pushed her head into his arm.
He held her shoulders.
“Come, girl.” This time she let him call her that. “When I general, I have men to support me, understand what I asking. You got nothing. You gone through more, with less, than I can imagine, being in control the whole city. What you done for all of we amazing. You done good.”
Haidan hugged her and she hugged him back. It was comforting.
“I made my own share,” Haidan said. “I left Mafolie weak, concentrating in the wrong area. Maybe is time both of we take some rest for a while.”
Things were going to have to change, Dihana knew. Let the unionists duke it out with each other. Let someone else
meet every week, give them a taste of the hell she’d endured for the past several years.
Dihana was going to step down from it all.
“Yes, I am over. Done for sure.” The sudden resolve lightened her. “It is time for a rest.”
“And what you go do?” Haidan asked.
“I want to find the Loa. That’s first. I want their knowledge. I am going to join the Preservationists.”
“Good.” Haidan put his cup down. “You will do well leading them.”
Dihana looked at him. “What about the gourds? Do we destroy them, or keep them around just in case?” They’d talked about sending them over the mountains and releasing the plague into Aztlan. Dihana had felt queasy just thinking it. There was no guarantee it wouldn’t cross back over to their side of the mountains and kill them all as well.
“Destroy them,” Haidan said.
“That’s a good choice.”
“Let we hope everyone else keep making good choice. The Loa would kill the world with those gourd. Whoever come after you, however we rule we-self after this, they need make some good decision.”
Below them, inside the thick walls, Capitol City settled down for a trouble-free night. In the weeks ahead Dihana looked forward to turning the city over to parliament, and Haidan would transfer the gods and priests over to the Azteca by the mouth of the tunnel. He would stay there to watch it destroyed by dynamite after that. And Dihana would prepare herself to explain to the city that she had allowed cousins and distant friends to be taken back with the Azteca in bondage.
Nothing in Capitol City would ever be the same.
Nobody would ever be the same.
 
 
Azteca lined the mouth of the tunnel in full Jaguar scout finery. New feathers had been glued to their masks, and the scouts lined the rocky, carved walls like brightly colored statues. Dull mongoose-men uniforms mingled outside, a full force with rifles ready for any movement.
Haidan watched his men trundle forward the wheeled cage that held the Azteca god. The Jaguar scouts murmured, stirred, but held still.
A line of Azteca priests in loincloths followed the cage.
The handover occurred smoothly, though the mongoose-men spat with anger. They wanted the thousands of Nanagadans already on the other side of the tunnel freed.
It couldn’t happen.
Yet.
Haidan ground his teeth and watched the last of the priests disappear into the dark of the tunnel. The Jaguar scouts surrounded their own, turned their backs, and walked down the tunnel. Fifteen minutes later all that remained was dark shadows.
Haidan waited another hour, then gave the signal.
Thuds rippled through the ground, up his feet, and into his chest. Deep inside the tunnel the charges went off. A wall of dust exploded out of the mouth, and the sides collapsed in.
When it settled, only a wall of rock remained.
Haidan relaxed.
Mafolie had been handed over earlier in a similarly tense exchange. This was the final part of the truce.
Now the rebuilding began. Of all the cities raided. The mongoose-men. Their future. There was almost no food across the land, but crops would be planted and grow soon. Fishermen in Brungstun and Capitol City would bear the weight, and so many had died it would be easier to spread
what they did have. The forest would provide wild fruits and berries.
Most would live. They’d made it. They had a second chance.
 
 
One day the Azteca left, the Frenchi told Jerome. A huge trail of Azteca came from the north and they all walked out of town. They left some people in chains, took others, and retreated to the mountains.
The Frenchi men all went into Brungstun. Carefully at first, then brazenly when they realized all the Azteca were truly gone.
Airships no longer flew overhead.
All the Frenchi women and children returned to the village, though it was burned to the sand it stood on.
Rebuilding began.
Jerome was allowed to play outside in the sand with the other children, but got in trouble for getting into fights for no reason. The anger just exploded out of him. He even once pushed Sandy down, for arguing with him, and they’d stopped speaking since.
At night, the thought of Teotl, scary monsters, streaming out of the stars down toward his home to kill them all kept him awake.
Eventually Jerome played alone and talked to no one.
After a few more days people from Capitol City arrived. Mongoose-men sailed out to the village to talk to them.
“The mongoose-men say they defeat the Azteca, and the Azteca retreat back to the other side of the mountain,” someone explained at a bonfire. “The Azteca had come through a large hole they dig in the mountain, is what they say. It take them many generations to do this, but the mongoose-men say they go dynamite it. But the threat still
there. They want volunteer to become mongoose-men and learn to fight the Azteca.”
Several men volunteered. And Jerome held up his hand and stepped forward.
They shook their heads. “You too young,” they said.
“I want kill Azteca,” Jerome insisted. That was where the anger came from, he had realized.
They got angry with him, though. The mongoose-men left without Jerome with the recruits who would learn how to kill Azteca and defend the land. And that made him even angrier.
 
Three days later a small boat landed and his father got out. Jerome watched from the distance, hiding by a palm tree, as his father spoke to the people.
Jerome saw his dad put a hand on one of the men’s shoulders.
A real hand.
This couldn’t be his dad. Could it? Jerome stood stiffly by the tree. But when his dad came over and picked Jerome off the sand in a crushing hug, Jerome broke down and cried into his dad’s shoulder.
“I couldn’t do anything,” he sobbed. “I could only run from them Azteca. I don’t know what happen …”
“I know,” John said, and hugged him harder. Jerome hung on tight until his dad pulled him free and looked him in the eyes, sadly. “When we go back, we’re going to stay with Auntie Fixit, okay?” His dad swallowed and bit his lip. “Uncle Harold is dead. And so is Mom.” His dad sniffed, and Jerome began to sob. “Auntie Fixit has some stuff of your mother’s she kept while the Azteca were in Brungstun. We will take that stuff back to our house.”
“What happen?” Jerome asked through tears.
“I don’t like telling you this.”
“Please,” Jerome begged.
“They sacrificed her. Along with many other women in Brungstun. Auntie Fixit saw it all. She was with Shanta until the very end. They buried her in a big pit.”
Jerome grabbed a handful of his dad’s shirt. He cried, but inside he also raged.
 
 
Several months passed for John before Jerome calmed down. They were long months of fights with his son about his hand, where he had gone, what had happened to Shanta.
Each one wearied him more than he thought he could handle.
And there were all these memories sitting in the back of his mind, waiting to explode at the most inopportune moments. Memories of the dark, black emptiness of drifting in space that woke him up screaming at night. The guilt of all the people who had died as a result of decisions and actions John had made. Actions several centuries ago, and actions just months ago. Some days he could hardly function. His mind felt as if someone were poking holes through it and letting out molten, confusing images.
Jerome had lost his childhood and had been forced to grow up to the toughest realities of a harsh world. In some way he couldn’t express he resented it, and John understood.
So he spent time at the beach, or at sea, trying to bring Jerome back some measure of normality.
But at night they both sat at the table, not able to find words. Sometimes John found Jerome in a corner crying, and sometimes Jerome found John staring off in the distance with wet eyes.
One of those lonely nights Jerome had found John on the porch, staring into the distance. “You missing she?”
“It hurts I miss her so much,” John said.
“I know.” Jerome sat on the chair next to him and stared into the same distance.
The days passed, some better than others.
One day Jerome pulled himself together and told John everything that had happened. Troy, the passages, the people he’d seen dying.
John could only hug him.
 
 
It was a breezy day on the beach just out by town when Pepper found them. Jerome ran into waves and laughed loudly, bringing a grin to John’s face. John leaned back against a palm tree, with a quick glance up to see if any loose coconuts hung above him.
Footsteps crunched through the sand, and Pepper crouched next to him. His dreadlocks swayed across his eyes.
John couldn’t look Pepper in the face, but kept an eye on Jerome. From the corner of his eyesight it seemed that Pepper had all his bulk back.
“You know, I find it funny that I still don’t know you as anything other than Pepper, even with all my memories back.” Pepper snorted at him. “I’m sure you’ve thought about many different ways to kill me,” John said. “All I can say is that I’m sorry.”
“We all do what has to be done,” Pepper said. “And maybe you should realize that just as you were changed down here with your family, I was changed after spending so many years drifting with nothing but my own thoughts.” One of Pepper’s hands remained behind his back. A gun? A knife?
John looked straight at Pepper. “You weren’t going to let me do another run.”
“You had enough priests. The Teotl I caught you was alone a good bargaining chip. You went too far. Too driven, John. Should have cut your losses.”
“Maybe. The ship will repair itself eventually. I know exactly where she is.”
“And I’m stuck on this planet until then, John. I think, maybe in some lower area of your tactical, ever-scheming mind, you wanted that.”
John didn’t reply.
Pepper pulled his arm out. He held the Loa device John had hidden in his cabin on
La Revanche
. It glinted in the somber evening rays. An icy sensation ran up John’s neck. Pepper had the ability to take over the
Ma Wi Jung
. There was a threat there. Pepper was telling him he could take the ship back, at any point. If John ever deceived Pepper again, Pepper could take the ship and find a way to use it. Maybe with the help of the Loa, or maybe with enough time …
John remembered how damn effective the tiny Loa probes were. They’d been spit out into deep space to hijack Nanagadan ships during the first few years of contact, before the Loa began to work with humans instead of pressganging them into service fighting against the Teotl between wormholes and planets.
“The Azteca are still out there,” Pepper said. “They’ll attack again. And since I’m stuck here until our ship heals, I will work to stop that.”
Jerome dove into another wave and resurfaced several feet away, spitting water out of his mouth. John still kept his lips pressed shut.
“There is something else only you can appreciate,” Pepper said. “The Loa all came out of their hidey-holes after the battle. They’re trying to help the inventors and engineers. They’re pushing for larger armies, a navy, and more aggressiveness against Azteca.”
“I’m sure the Teotl are doing the same on the other side.”
“We’re being manipulated by those damn creatures again. Huge searches for lost technology, reverse engineering, that is okay. But behind it are the Loa and Teotl, which means more war. More death.”
John listened to the sound of the palms shifting and rustling. The top layer of sand, so fine the wind played with it, danced and swirled down the beach.
“I could use your help in stopping the Teotl,” Pepper said. “There are some other tricks I have up my sleeve. Hardened bunkers I could search for weapons. Come with me. We’ll make Nanagadan history again. You and I will make our own war on the Azteca until it’s time to leave.”
For a moment John was tempted. There might be a suit of reactive armor he could climb into to kill Azteca with. Some Azteca had stayed on this side of the mountains to become Tolteca. He knew these deserters could come in handy. He could run them back over the mountains as spies. Plans began forming in his head.
But Jerome ran out of the water and started climbing a pile of boulders at the corner of the beach.
“I can’t.” John pointed his chin at Jerome, jumping from
rock to rock. “Jerome, he’s shaken. He needs me more than anything right now.”
The thirst for revenge died in the face of his son’s pain.
Pepper stood up. “When he is grown, will you fight with me?”
“Look for me then.” John stood up with him. They faced each other under the shade of the palm tree.
“I think you have the right idea, John.” Pepper smiled. He put a hand on John’s shoulder. “I’ll see you again.”
Pepper turned around and walked up toward the dirt road leading into town. He was headed straight for the Wicked Highs, no doubt.
“Pepper, there is on last thing,” John said. Pepper paused. “The Spindle.” They both looked up. “There are working instruments in Tolor’s Chimney that say it is being stabilized and opened up again. They will come through again, in numbers.” There were maybe thirty Teotl on this planet. But through the Spindle and the destroyed remains of the wormhole, there were billions of Teotl.
“How long?” Pepper asked.
“It’ll take at least a hundred years.” The computer in Troy’s desk predicted two hundred years for them to stabilize the wormhole.
“Then we should get busy.”
“The ship will be ready, Pepper. I’m no fool. If we don’t get help, if we don’t warn other worlds, the Teotl will wash over all the worlds like the tide.”
They had thought a single system, with all of its defenses aimed at a wormhole with the Teotl on the other side, could hold the Teotl off.
It hadn’t worked. All they’d done was buy time.
“I’ll be back then,” Pepper said. “We’ll get the word out with the ship. We’ll be waiting for them when they come through.”
He turned and walked off down the dirt road leading to the beach.
Jerome ran up. “That was Pepper?”
John nodded.
Jerome watched Pepper walk down the turn in the dirt road and disappear. “I want to be like him when I grow up.”
“No, you don’t, Jerome. Trust me.” John put an arm around his son.
They stood there for a while.
Jerome looked up at John. “How did you meet Pepper?”
John laughed. “That isn’t a story for young men. I’ll tell you when you grow up, okay? We should go home now.”
He walked down the dirt road and Jerome followed.
When Jerome grew up. Ten years from now. What could he do to help Nanagada while he remained in Brungstun? He wasn’t sure, but he was thoughtful as he led Jerome back home.
It was dark when they got there and lit the gaslights on the porch. Electric lights wouldn’t be coming out from Brungstun for a long while yet. Both moons were behind the horizon. The great Spindle hung in the sky, along with all the other stars, and for the first time in twenty-seven years John could trace the patterns in the sky and name the twinkle in the sky he’d come from. There was Earth. Home, in a way. Though not as home as Nanagada was now. John marveled at the sky.
Then Jerome offered to make dinner. John smiled and went inside. He helped him while he thought about what needed to be done outside. The garden needed to be plowed and replanted. And then he needed paper, lots of it, as he would put down on paper everything he could remember that would help them build bigger cities, better weapons.
Could he get them to rockets in fifty years? A lot could happen in fifty years before Pepper demanded they leave in the
Ma Wi Jung.
Tomorrow he would do all these things.
Tomorrow would be another day on Nanagada. A new day. But for now, Jerome peeled potatoes for soup, and John picked up the badly cut chunks of potato and laughed. After a few seconds Jerome laughed and slowed down, taking the time to slice only the skin off the potato.
Till Jerome grew up, John thought with a smile.

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