Alien Nation #1 - The Day of Descent (26 page)

Dreamily he ran a finger across the almost invisible
lingpod
ridge beneath the skin of his upper abdomen. Cathy was so engrossed in washing that she acted as if Buck weren’t present, and Buck forgot any pretense of polite behavior. He just kept watching, catching a brief glance of Cathy’s spine where her spots were so small that—

“Where are your manners?”

Buck was so startled that he lurched from the sleeping platform and almost fell to the floor as he turned to see who had surprised him.

It was an Elder, dressed in the flowing white robes of the goddess Ionia, just as Moodri wore. But this Elder was a
binnaum,
heavy of spots, who limped as he walked, cradling a withered right arm to his body.

Buck stared. He had never seen anyone with a disability before. The Overseers would not permit such to live.

“I understood you were raised within the teachings of Andarko and Celine,” the old
binnaum
said gruffly.

“Yes, I was,” Buck said guiltily. Then he looked over at the infirmary door. He hadn’t heard it puff open, yet when Coolock had been present Buck was certain that no one else had been in the large room. Where had he come from?

“Don’t worry where I have come from, young one,” the Elder said. “Worry about where you are going. Do not Andarko and Celine teach you to have respect for all living things?”

“Yes,” Buck said in a low voice, wondering how the Elder had been able to know what he was thinking.

“And don’t worry how I am able to know what you are thinking,” the Elder said. “Instead, worry how you will be able to show respect to
all
living things if you are unable to show respect to another person.”

“Yes,” Buck said again, and he bent his head. It was somehow easier to display his feelings of shame to an Elder because the Elders had never punished him for admitting a wrongdoing.

The
binnaum
shuffled closer to Buck. “And if you’re going to start fingering your flap like a
soshal
in heat, then do it in private.” He made a dismissive harumphing sound in his throat, and Buck felt his eyes sting with tears of embarrassment.

“What are you two going on about?” Cathy walked quickly over from the work station to join them. Her face was flushed with the results of her rough scrubbing.

Buck held his breath as he waited for the Elder to reveal what he had been doing behind the cargo specialist’s back. But the old
binnaum
simply said “We were discussing the goddess,” and left it at that. “I’m Melgil, by the way, a friend of your great-uncle’s.” Buck leaned back against the edge of the sleeping platform in relief.

“I told you not to come here until it was time,” Cathy said to Melgil. “Coolock was just here.”

“Coolock has just left,” the Elder said. “He will not be returning.”

“But others might. After the gas levels we had last cycle, the accident rate is going to be triple what it normally is. By the time this shift is over all the infirmaries will be overflowing with the injured and their guards.”

“Then a lone Elder giving the blessings of Ionia will hardly be noticed,” Melgil said.

Cathy folded her arms across her chest, and Buck couldn’t think why she would be so agitated. “Until the time comes for me to operate on you! Then what happens? One shift the Overseers see you wandering around my treatment hall. The next shift you’re in a healing harness. Don’t you think they might get suspicious?”

The Elder eased himself down to sit on the sleeping platform beside Buck. “Suspicious of what?” he asked.

“That I’ve been treating you!” Cathy kept glancing over at the closed pneumatic door as if she expected it to open at any moment. “You know they’re letting you live on borrowed time as it is. As long as you give your peaceful sermons and don’t consume too much foodgrowth, they’ll let you alone. But if they suspect that you’re taking up
any
of my treatment resources . . .” She didn’t finish. She didn’t have to. Even Buck knew what she meant.

“But I am not taking up any of your resources,” Melgil said. “And after the operation, what happens to me won’t be of concern.”

Buck looked from one adult to the other, trying to fill in between the lines. He knew that operations were medical procedures performed on workers to repair them and enable them to continue working. But he didn’t know why any Overseer would permit an operation to be performed on an Elder. It would be a clear waste of medical resources.

“What happens to this
infirmary
after the operation is
my
concern,” Cathy said. There was anger hidden beneath all her words, Buck relized. He decided that was why Coolock had let her act that way toward him. She must act that way toward everyone.

“You know they’re not allowing us to train any more cargo specialists,” Cathy went on. “Another ten years and there’ll be fewer than one hundred of us left to maintain the health of everyone else.”

But Melgil waved his one good hand dismissively. “This voyage will not last ten more years,” he said.

Buck was stunned by Melgil’s words, at the thought that the voyage of the ship could ever have an end. But he saw that Cathy wasn’t. Instead she glared at the Elder.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Has someone
else
had a vision?”

Melgil did not react to the derision in her voice. “Gelana, you have a kinder
serdos
than you know, and thus your anger and your contempt have no strength against me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cathy said.

“Of course you do,” Melgil said. “Against the Overseers you have erected formidable inner walls. As strong as hull metal they are. But in your desire to save the children and the sick and the injured you have come to forget who is your enemy and who is your friend, and so you exclude
everyone
from your life.”

“I have my work, and I do it,” Cathy said stonily.

“There is more to life than work.”

“Not on the ship there isn’t.”

Melgil reached out and placed his good hand on Buck’s arm. His hand felt cool. “Neither of you will be on the ship forever,” he said. “And when you are free, you must be able to open your hearts to a new way of life.” He stared intently at Cathy. “A new way of feeling.”

Cathy took a half step away. “It is cruel to talk of freedom in front of a child,” she said.

Melgil gazed up at her questioningly. “Is it cruel to give children hope? To give children dreams? Do you believe you have denied them to yourself for so long that you have lost the capacity to feel their power? That is not true, Gelana. You must look more deeply within yourself.”

“I have no time for this, old one. Leave now, while you’re still able.”

Melgil patted Buck’s arm. “I must talk with Finiksa first.”

“And if the Overseers come?”

“I will leave long before they return.”

Cathy shook her head. “You honestly think there’s going to be a revolt, don’t you?”

Buck’s ear valleys almost twitched at the word “revolt.” Was
that
what all this tension was about?

“Do you have faith in the goddess?” Melgil asked.

“No,” Cathy said.

“Do you have faith in Andarko and Celine?”

“No.”

“Do you have faith in your people?”

Cathy faltered.

“Do you have faith in the children of your people?”

Cathy looked sharply at Buck. “I have faith in nothing, old one. I do my work.”

Melgil nodded his head. “The words you speak are not the words you feel. Someday you will admit that to yourself as easily as you admit it to me now.”

“If you don’t leave me now, I will refuse to perform the operation!” None of Cathy’s anger was hidden now. It was all out in the open.

“You would let the Overseers win?” Melgil asked. “After all that they have done to you? All that they have taken from you?”

Cathy put her hands to her face. “Stop it!”

Melgil stood and went to her. “That is exactly what I intend, to do,” he said, touching his knuckles to her temple and not reacting as she jerked her head away. “But I cannot do it alone.” He looked back at Buck. “We must all work together. And then it
will
stop, Gelana. I promise.”

Fascinated by the interaction, Buck watched as Cathy choked back tears behind her covering hands. He wondered what it was the Overseers might have done to her. No one on board the ship had anything, so what was there to take?

“Just leave,” Cathy finally said. “As soon as you are able, leave.” She went over to a work station and began to arrange bundles of rolled-up bandages that sparkled with antiseptic crystals. The stacks she made looked no different from the stacks she disassembled.

For a few moments Melgil watched her, then he sat back beside Buck on the platform. Buck wanted to ask him about Cathy and why she was crying. But Melgil held up his hand before Buck could speak.

“Later you will understand,” the Elder said. “For now you must respect her privacy.” Then Melgil placed his hand across Buck’s chest. “Moodri tells me you are brave, that the hearts of the Heroes of Soren’tzahh beat strongly within you.”

Buck felt embarrassed. The Elder’s hand now felt unusually hot through his tunic. “Sometimes Moodri says things I don’t understand,” he said.

“Perhaps you just don’t listen closely enough.” Though Buck might have thought Melgil’s words were a criticism, the Elder spoke in such a friendly fashion that it almost seemed as if he were telling a joke.

“I try,” Buck said.

“We know,” Melgil answered. He moved his hand a few inches higher as if searching for Buck’s pulses. “Moodri also says that you have never betrayed the secret of his visits.”

“Never,” Buck said emphatically. He knew the Overseers had proclaimed that family members must not keep in contact with one another once the children were old enough to be raised independently. It had been explained to Buck in such a way that it made perfect sense. Everything must be done for the good of the ship. If the traditional tribal family structure of Tencton was allowed to exist on board, unproductive strife might arise, wasting resources and endangering everyone. To be fair, Moodri had said that the tribes of Tencton had not experienced significant strife for thousands of generations—an interesting idea if it was true, Buck thought—but since his relationship with his great-uncle didn’t make him any less willing to do things for the good of the ship, Buck felt the visits did no harm. Buck was certain that if he had an opportunity to explain his situation in detail to the Overseers, then they would understand and allow him to continue to meet with Moodri. But since Moodri was so concerned that Buck not do anything to endanger his status in the Watcher Youth, Buck had done as he was told and had so far kept their meetings secret.

“Good,” Melgil said. “Because now I am going to ask you to keep another secret.” He pressed his hand more tightly against Buck’s chest so that Buck had to brace himself to keep from being pushed away.

“What kind of secret?” Buck asked warily.

“An important one,” Melgil said, staring so deeply into Buck’s eyes that Buck couldn’t look away. “We will ask you to perform a task for us.”

“You mean work?” Buck understood work. Everyone must work when they were old enough.

“In a sense,” Melgil said. “Though it will be a simple task. Something you will have to do but once.”

Melgil’s breathing matched Buck’s. Buck felt an odd connection with the Elder.

“What do you want me to do?” the boy asked.

“You must want to do it, too,” Melgil said, “so we can be sure you will not hesitate.”

Buck said nothing. He kept breathing, becoming more and more aware of each breath and each alternating beat of his hearts.

“In eight cycles the ship will prepare for translation.”

“Translation,” Buck repeated.

“You will be on the bridge—”

“No,” Buck said, momentarily breaking the rhythm Melgil had been building.

“—as part of your Watcher Youth Brigade,” Melgil continued. “Just a tour, Finiksa, like your visits to the power plants and the food-processing chamber. Watcher Brigades are always invited to the bridge for translations. It is nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing unusual. And now it will be your turn to go, and you will act as you always act and obey the Watch Leader and do all that you are told.” Melgil paused, his eyes unblinking. “And then you will perform a task for us. For Great-uncle Moodri. For the goddess and for all your people.”

“For Andarko and Celine?” Buck asked. His voice seemed to come from far away.

“For your father and mother as well,” Melgil said.

Buck felt a wave of comfort settle over him. The warmth of the Elder’s hand on his hearts. The dimly remembered infant security of sensing shared breathing. The knowledge that he would do work for the good of all his people because he knew that anything that benefited his people would be good for the ship.

“What shall I do?” Buck asked.

Melgil told him about the key.

And Buck was shocked back into separate awareness. For what the Elder asked him to do was definitely
not
for the good of the ship, and by the time Melgil had finished Buck knew he had no choice but to go to the Overseers and tell them about Moodri. The revolt. And everything.

S
IKES DIDN
’
T KNOW
where to look. Beside him Theo Miles was tricked up like a Las Vegas pimp—gold chains, purple shirt opened three buttons too far, and black leather pants four sizes too small. To the other side a half-crazed audience lathered into a frenzy by equal parts alcohol and lust hooted in unison for the performers on the strip club’s stage. The stage with its gleaming chrome poles was right in front of Sikes, but there was no way in hell he was going to look up there either.

Instead he stared at the beer in his glass, watching the concentric circles of the ripples made by the rhythmic pounding of the audience’s feet. A shout suddenly went up from a hundred throats. Even Theo yelled. Sikes glanced up in time to see a pair of skimpy red underpants fly through the air toward a forest of waving arms and straining hands and immediately wished he hadn’t when he saw what their absence had uncovered.