Beyond Heaven's River (5 page)

“I —” He hesitated, knowing his barriers were down, and not particularly caring. “So would I.”

“Thank you, Mr. Elvox.” She fitted herself against his back and put her arms around him. “You’re a gentleman and a scholar.”

|Go to Contents |

Beyond Heavens River

Six

It was a terrible time. Alae marched back and forth in their cabin, screaming at Oomalo — though he knew very well she was only screaming in his direction — and twirling a piece of bedding like a banner.

“Why should we have given up? There’s nothing here, and if there is,he has it — a damned savage! What do we end up with? Nothing!”

“Our job was over anyway,” Oomalo said softly. “When the signals stopped. We don’t need any more money. Our employers could care less where we are or what we’re doing now that the job is over. They might relocate us if we make up another contract — and that isn’t likely. But it all amounts to the same thing.” The disappointment hadn’t hit him as deeply, but resentment still gnawed at him. “It isn’t all over yet,” he said, aware he was contradicting himself. “We may still have a claim. We have to wait until the Centrum ship arrives.”

“I’d rather leave now before we go through any more humiliation.”

Oomalo shrugged. “We’re bolted down and we can’t leave until the storm passes. I suggest you relax and —”

“It was peaceful out there,” she said. “With the routine, the jobs that always needed doing, and no way we could ever lose our home or get into trouble. It was secure. We traded that for this. For concrete and emptiness and a foul little man who wouldn’t even tell us where he came from!” She flung the sheet away and sat hard on the sleep-field frame. “We should have killed him. Hidden him or broken him down in the lander waste units. We’re just not ruthless enough.”

Oomalo nodded and sat across from her on a pile of bedclothes. “We didn’t do it, and now it’s too late. It just takes patience from here in …”

Alae lay back and stared at the overhead blankly, her gray eyes wide. “Toys,” she said. “Baubles. The most dangerous things imaginable. Passion and need.” She straightened up. “How long has it been since we conjoined?”

“I don’t know.”

“Years. Even that passion had left us.”

He lifted up his hands and shook his head. “It was no longer needed.”

“It was a poison. But you know that it’s returned? Don’t you feel it? It’s come back to add to the misery.”

He wasn’t sure he felt anything. Alae’s femininity had never been very strong, and in time he had simply blanked out the fact that they were man and wife. They were companions above and beyond anything else.

“I even needthat now,” she said.

Oomalo took a deep breath, put his hands down to lift himself off the bedclothes, and hesitated. Alae looked at him almost fiercely. She untied her robe.

The ship vibrated in the wind, and a weird whistling noise made Oomalo open his eyes. Alae was breathing through her teeth as she rode him. Abruptly he sat up and held her around the ribs, squeezing with all his strength. She exploded a breath and struggled to take in another. He didn’t let her. “Damn you,” she grunted. “Let me breathe.” He rolled her over and pinned her against the yielding sleep-field with an arm across her neck.

“Are you done with the histrionics?” he asked. Her eyes widened and she groaned, twisting her hips against him. “Are you done?”

“No,” she wheezed.

He pulled his arm up and felt the anger getting stronger in him. He didn’t know who or what he was trying to hurt. With typical restraint he didn’t hit her hard. For both of them it seemed to work. She screwed her face up and screamed into his breast. He felt nothing as he came in her, but his tension subsided.

Outside, the rain increased and the wind drove drops of water and ice against the hull like a crowd’s fists.

|Go to Contents |

Beyond Heavens River

Seven

When Kawashita awoke, the storm was still raging. He lay in the sleep-field, listening to the muffled noises of the wind, the rain, acclimating himself to the surroundings. Each morning he awoke, he had to swallow back a nameless fear — that it was all still illusion, that he was still in the dome. He sat up, rubbed his face with his hands, and went into the lavatory. Ignoring the strange devices, he washed his face off with a thin stream of water and held his hands out, examining the fingernails. How often — in how many different situations — had he gone through just such a ritual? It seemed to be a connection, a common thread through all of his lives. He felt ready to talk to Ko again.

“Ko!” he called. There was no answer. “Come, we haven’t finished yet. Many years yet.” He looked around the cabin, frowning. “Ko?” The panic arose again. Ko had stayed with him when all the others had left. Was he to be deserted again, left in a strange, empty ship, with Ko gone, and all the others, too? He sucked in his breath and tried to bury his fear, concentrating on the strength in his stomach. He reached down to feel his testicles. They were tight, drawn-up. Centuries ago, lifetimes ago, he had been told that was a sign of impending panic and disgrace. He pulled the testicles down as best he could, and his fear seemed to subside.

The fact that Ko was gone did not necessarily mean the others were gone. He groped for a way to that foggy realization — to understanding the difference between Ko and the ones who had found him. Perhaps Ko …

He had been brave so long, had witnessed the strangeness and newness. It would do no good to examine things too closely before he was ready. What he and Ko had been doing had helped, for there was blame to be established, but perhaps they had been on the wrong track.

He exercised briefly, regulating his breath to calm himself. Then he dressed and opened the door. He remembered his way around the ship well enough.

When the others awoke, Kawashita was in the lounge ahead of them, eating from a plate of what looked like partially cooked vegetables. He had learned how to customize the menu’s offerings. The machinery presented few problems to him — he was a quick learner, always had been — but the people … he was not used to so many people.

Without Ko, he would have to pursue another tack. He made his decision.

“Good morning, Yoshio,” Anna said.

He stood and bowed quickly to Nestor and the man called Elvox. “Good morning, if it is morning.”

“For us, close enough,” Anna said.

“I am ready to tell my story.”

“Fine. I’ll get my first officer and an unabridged tapas bank.” She left and returned a few minutes later with the woman, who carried a suitcase-like object and two tapas pads. She was about seventy, though she looked younger. Anna had explained juvenates to Yoshio, and he understood their effects fairly well. The first officer sat down beside Yoshio and smiled at him.

“My name is Carina,” she said, arranging her equipment. Anna and Elvox sat together on the opposite side of the table.

“I am honored,” Yoshio said, standing and bowing, then bowing to the others. He sat again, folding his hands on the table top. “If you are ready …”

“We are,” Carina said.

“I was born in the twentieth century,” Yoshio began, “thirteen years after my nation’s victory over the Russians at Tsushima.”

“That was 1905,” Carina said, “so you were born in 1918.”

“Yes. I joined the armed forces in 1940 and became a flier. I flew in airplanes launched from large, flat-topped ships called aircraft carriers. I was a part ofKido Butai , the carrier strike force of Japan. I was an enlisted pilot, not very experienced at first, and I did not take part in the early battles with the United States of America — in the attack at Pearl Harbor, or the Philippines. I flew my first missions in the Coral Sea, near Australia, and was proud to shoot down three aircraft, and help sink theLexington aircraft carrier. We also thought we sankYorktown , another carrier, but not so. My airplanes were Aichi type 99s, what the Americans called Vals. I was a gunner usually, seated behind the pilot, but I had done much flying alone in trainers and fighters a few times.

“My air group was assigned to the carrierHiryu. I flew a type 99 to capture the small American-occupied island on Midway. This was in the middle of 1942. Many things escape my memory, so if I am inaccurate, tell me …”

“Why tell us the story now, Yoshio?” Anna asked.

“Hht!” He drew in his breath, stood, and bowed. “Many pardon. You are not ready.”

“No, no!” Carina said, giving Anna a withering glance.

“We’re ready. Anna means, are you sure you’re ready to tell us? We are most interested in your welfare.”

“I am ready. Appreciate your thoughts. I will go on.” He sat down. “We lost many ships in that battle. I was let to read how many, but that was long ago. Have not paid much attention to numbers since.”

“Who let you read?” Elvox asked.

“Those who capture me. I never saw them, I think. I tell you how. Island was attacked early in the morning, about six. I flew in the first wave of planes, led by Lieutenant Joichi Tomonoga. Before we fly, we eat victory breakfast — rice, soybean soup, chestnuts and sake. We leave at twenty minutes after four — I am looking at a Rolex watch my father gave me.” He pointed at his bare wrist, his eyes intense. “Later, lost the watch at sea. I climbed in the back of my dive bomber. It is going to be glorious. My pilot has scarf around his head, and belt of a thousand stitches is wrapped around my waist under the flight suit. My mother stood on street corner, asking passers-by to add stitch, until all prayers and wishes go with me, a thousand.

“There is not much resistance. American pilots from Midway fly twenty, twenty-five fighters to attack, but our Zeros engage. They shoot down clumsy old planes, called Buffalos, and new fighters not yet proved, Wildcats I think. Twenty-two shot down!” He spread his hands out.

“We feel like just having donekampai  — like long bout withsake. Then we bomb Midway, two islands, Eastern and Sand. A companion flies around Sand Island and drops his bomb on a storage tank for oil. It looks like whole island is carried away in the explosion. Eastern Island looks very bad, too, but our commander calls for a second attack. This is about seven o’clock, and we feel upset that second wave might be needed to finish our work. But we return toHiryu , refuel, and load more bombs in case we are needed in a third or fourth attack. This is between eight and ten o’clock.” He tapped his wrist again.

“We are told that Americans have attacked our carriers, are still attacking, but the bombs miss, the torpedoes are awful, our ships just swerve around them. And the Americans die, whole squadrons. Very brave. But when we land, there is much confusion on our decks — planes being brought up and down elevators, being loaded with bombs, then the bombs removed and replaced by torpedoes, because we do not know just where American planes are coming from, and whether we must attack Midway, or carriers, or both. This confusion goes on and stories are everywhere — that we have sunk American carriers, that some of our ships are damaged. We don’t know what to believe.” He smiled apologetically.

“It is decided, after more than eighty American planes have been shot down, that if aircraft carriers are nearby, they have been exhausted. So we re-arm planes with bombs. At ten-fifteen, another attack — but from where? Twelve torpedo bombers. Three get through to our ships and are brought down by guns, two escape. Seven are shot down by our fighters. Very brave. Our carrier is separated from the others, under cloud cover, very fortunate. We hear sounds of more attacks across ocean, see bomb sprays, smoke, fire. At noon, I fly with another strike. We are looking for the American carrier — but which one? It cannot beYorktown ; she was sunk or badly damaged at Coral Sea —”

“Just a moment,” Carina interrupted, looking over her tapas screen. “The Japanese lost three carriers by ten-thirty —Akagi, Kaga, Soryu . They were all burning badly by that time. TheHiryu was the only one left functioning.”

Kawashita nodded. “Yes. But we did not know this for sure, not on the flight deck. We learned in the air, and some of us did not believe. I didn’t. How could it have happened? Rear Admiral Yamaguchi orders us to attack the American carrier or carriers, and just an hour later, we findYorktown . She has been fixed in just days — a job that should have taken months. What power the Americans have! This is very frightening. But what they had brought back by miracle, we can sink all the same. Our flight leader, Michio Kobayashi this time, gives us courage. Our courage is in the center of our being, in our stomachs, he tells us. But our luck is not good this time. We are attacked by American fighters and lose five or six planes immediately. We approach the American carrier flying in a formation of Vs —” he held his hands up with palms together, fingers apart, and spaced several gestures in a bigger V — “and attacked from the port side, at an angle of seventy-two degrees. Two more planes are shot down, one Kobayashi’s. I watch his plane fall apart and hit the ocean. Helpless, just shooting at American fighters, not knowing when we will go down like Kobayashi.

“I remember one thing. I think it was before we bombed theYorktown . An American fighter pulls up behind our plane, very close, not firing. I think he is out of ammunition. He swings back and forth, and I follow him with my gun, trying to guess where he will go so I can fire into him. Then he comes very close, almost touching our tail with his propeller. But he decides not to and flies away. I see his face. I see his anger. It is the first time I have seen an American close-up since I was a young child. It frightens me. He looks very brave and fierce, like he is about to destroy his plane and ours, just for vengeance. I think I just look scared.

“We drop our bombs and start to pull away. I see one bomb heading for the carrier, and one landing in the water near it. The explosion in the water tilts the ship, and the second bomb strikes it. Another bomb flies right down the stack. Three hits! For a while we fly around the carrier, firing our guns. Two more planes are shot down. I remember watching men throw burning trash off the fantail, all like in a dream. Boxes of wood and other trash float behind the carrier.

“We have only five planes left, so we return to theHiryu and land, very tired. We eat, Lieutenant Tomonoga takes off with five planes to make sure theYorktown is out of action. But we are not able to finish our meal before we are attacked again. I run to the plane and meet my pilot, who does not smile or say anything. We are all deadly tired. We take off to defend our ship. The Aichi Type 99 will not be very good against the American fighters, we know, but it is better to be in the air rather than on deck as a target.

“We do not stop all the planes. Several bombs hit the forward flight deck. The forward elevator is blown up against the bridge, like a can lid pried by a giant’s hand. We know that we cannot land now. We have fought fiercely, and have lost everything. It is best to die fighting. So we try to pursue the Americans. My pilot is shot in the arm and across the neck. I talk to him, but he is losing consciousness. The plane flies for some distance, going lower, waves striking wings, and we are down. The nose crushes him, comes up with the impact, and I am thrown through the back, crack my ribs on the canopy. I climb off the tail as fast as I can, for the plane will go down like a rock. It is painful to swim, but I have to, or the plane will suck me down with it. Then, in my life vest, I tread water and wait for the battle to be over.

“It is early evening when I see that theHiryu has come close to me. She is now dead in the water, listing to the port side. Destroyers — theKazagumo andMakigumo  — are taking away her crew. She is being abandoned. I swim toward her, shouting as loud as I can, but no one hears me. The ship is groaning, belching steam, metal screaming louder than I can. The destroyers leave, sailing away from me. I see men still on the carrier’s flight deck, waving at the other ships. They may be on board to scuttle the ship, or perhaps the destroyers could hold no more. But after a while they walk out of my line of sight.

“In the twilight, I climb up a gangway hanging from the side. It takes me half an hour to reach the hangar deck. There is no one. I feel very alone.

“It is dark before I am well enough to walk around. I find an electric lantern and go to a battle dressing station on the hangar deck, coughing in the smoke. I take a first-aid kit into the open air on a gun mount and bandage my side. There are bodies near the gun. They have no heads.

“I wander over the ship for an hour, looking for the men I have seen. There are explosions from below, and I hear screams, but I don’t know if they are men or metal. In the officer’s mess I find food, changing lanterns after my first wears out. Then I go to the bridge. I hear two men speaking, and it frightens me — perhaps they are ghosts. But I recognize one voice. It is Captain Tomeo Kaku. The other has to be Admiral Tamon Yamaguchi. I shine my light into the bridge and see they are strapped to the helm, talking, waiting for the ship to go down. When they see me, Yamaguchi asks who I am. I say I am a pilot.

“ ‘The pilots did well today,’ he says. ‘It is an honorable fight, and we have sunk many American carriers, many ships. They will never recover from this.’ He said it would be best, since the ship wasn’t sinking fast enough, that we all go below and commitseppuku . But I am not willing to die. ‘I will fight again for the emperor,’ I tell him. He becomes angry, but the Captain talks to him, reasons. I am young, able to fight again. So I help them untie themselves, then leave and go down to my bunkroom. I search for things I want to take with me when I leave. My Rolex is gone, ripped off in the crash, so I take an alarm clock. I find boxes in the corridor filled with tinned fish, and a storage locker with bottles of medicinal brandy and somesake . I load these into a canvas bag tied to a rope, which I swing out over the side. It will wait for me at the water line. I have to find a raft fast, then, because the ship is listing more and the bag will soon be underwater. A raft hangs from a single cord tied to a girder, so I cut it loose and drop it into the water near the gangway. I climb down, more rapidly this time, and put my finds into the raft. Then I push away from theHiryu with an oar.