Spin the Sky (34 page)

She stops again and says dreamily, “Your dad is awesome, by the way. He taught me to fly.”

Trevor is getting more jealous and tired of being yanked around. He pulls his shirt out of her grasp. “Yeah? Well, I wouldn’t know. I met him for the first time a couple weeks ago and he only told me he was my dad a few days ago,” he says sourly. Trevor wonders if Mike didn’t say something, would he still think of Cesar as some stranger?

“Oh,” gasps Nausicaa. “But he was going home! Mr. Cesar left here six years ago on his way home. That’s why he told my folks who he really was. He wanted their advice about how your mom would take it.”

Trevor shrugs, feeling a little better.

Her eyes go round as she says, “I wonder what happened to him. He really wanted to go home.”

“Well, he sure took his time,” snaps Trevor, knowing he is being a jerk right now but not really caring. “Is it far to your house?”

There is a muffled boom from behind Nausicaa and they both jump. They turn to scan the horizon, but see nothing.

“Let’s go,” she says, walking quickly in the opposite direction. Trevor follows.

After a few more blocks, they run into another mob, chanting as they burn a straw man with a sign on its chest that says “Synthlep Dalit.” Nausicaa looks like she wants to jump into the fray, but after she glances up at Trevor’s pleading face, she grabs his arm and ducks down another alleyway. As they watch the crowd move away from them, Nausicaa explains that
dalit
is the Bonalu word for “untouchable” or “unclean.”

“To heck with this,” she says with exasperation. “The whole colony is buzzing like a kicked-over ant hill. Let’s go up to the core and wait for things to calm down.”

Trevor thinks it is an excellent plan. Like Ithaca, the core is at the center of the colony. Since it’s mostly storage space, there won’t be too many people there unless a ship is loading or unloading or the kids are playing tether tantrum or Nullball.

On the way, Nausicaa sends a message to her parents, letting them know she has Trevor with her and where they are going and why.

“But who knows when they’ll get it?” she sighs, enjoying the strangeness of all the turmoil. “The local networks are all jammed with people talking about the riot. I hope no one is hurt.”

Nausicaa leads him to a large storage space that her family owns. It’s stacked high with pallets of laundered clothing, but otherwise empty. Nausicaa has the pass code to the small office in the back and so they have drinks and snacks and a ball to toss around while they wait.

Trevor picks glass out of the small cuts on his arm and cleans up the blood. Nausicaa gives him antiseptic wipes and wound glue out of a little emergency medical kit she has in her pocket. She looks a bit queasy at the sight of blood.

“Since the Bonalus came, everyone carries this stuff around with them,” she explains when he asks if she usually carried around the medical kit. “We have to be careful about the virus.”

Then Trevor and Nausicaa talk about everything and nothing over the next three hours. Nausicaa wants to be a gene splicer and travel around fixing things like Synthlep and seeing all the different orbitals and the people in them. She wants to try out new foods and have all kinds of new experiences. Trevor tells her about his studies on ship engineering and his plans to be a pilot.

They find that their favorite bands and video games and Ether dramas are stunningly similar, or at least, similar enough to be remarkably exciting. He and Nausicaa pool information on the latest Ether scandals and roundly denounce the most recent celebrity to leave a loving wife and children to go live with his mistress on Vegan Vineyards. They also share the same ideas on what is wrong with the colonies and how they would fix them if they were in charge of anything.

The storage spaces are kept cold, so eventually they decide the best thing to do is to huddle together for warmth and then conversation drops off somewhat as they listen to each other’s hearts racing. They wonder why their throats are suddenly dry and their palms sweaty.

Trevor keeps reminding himself that she has Synthlep and he can’t kiss her unless he wants to take medication for the rest of his life. Would she want to get kissed by a stranger like him?

Finally, Nausicaa’s comm bracelet jangles with a slew of incoming messages. The local networks are working again and the streets are clear. Nausicaa’s parents heard of her public immolation and have been sending frantic messages all day.

“We better get home,” she says after listening to the first few.

Al and Arete lavish parental concern on Nausicaa and adoration and praise on Trevor while they bring out an endless variety of food to urge on the teens.

Arete is tall and willowy with kind gray eyes and white-streaked blond hair cut in a short curly cap. She wears a Hindu sari in muted blue colors. Al is dressed in Spacer pants and boots under a long white collarless shirt. Their home is warm and comfortable, simply decorated with the kind of well-made, sturdy things that are so expensive in space.

“You saved our girl! Are you sure you won’t have another slice of the spice cake?” asks Al for the fifth time.

Arete smiles at her daughter and her new friend fondly, but concern wrinkles her forehead when she sees them shooting each other coy glances. After Trevor explains how Cesar sent him to ask for shelter for a few days, she makes him tell them everything that happened to him and to Ithaca in the last few weeks.

When Trevor tells the story of the pirate ship attack and how they snuck aboard the pirate ship and what happened to him there, Nausicaa gasps, twining her fingers around his.

When Trevor tells them about Uri Mach and Asner, Al swears loudly, “Mach! I might have known! He got his start as a pirate during the war. Supposedly he went clean when he started Seven Skies Trading, but once a pirate always a pirate.”

Al pounds the table angrily, “We used Seven Skies to transport cloth shipments, but they kept hiking up the protection fees so we decided we’d be better off on our own. Then some of our ships went missing, only to turn up later empty with a dead crew. We never could prove it was Seven Skies, but I know it was them.”

Trevor nods, but he is careful not to move, lest Nausicaa remember that they are holding hands and that she should probably get hers back. He replies to Al, “We weren’t sure who else was in on the plot. That’s why I came here. I didn’t want to put my mom and Ithaca at risk by showing up. Mach and Asner might think I know more than I do. I can’t tell you how much this means to me, you all letting me stay here.”

Trevor takes the opportunity to look at Nausicaa significantly. Arete frowns at that, but her face shows only kind concern for her daughter and her new friend.

“And your father explained about Lazar House?” she asks. “You understand that you are staying in an Synthlep house? Fluid contact could infect you. We know how to take the precautions, but you must always be on your guard. If you get Synthlep, you must take the medicine for the rest of your life and, if you ever leave, you will be reviled everywhere you go as a plague carrier?”

Trevor shrugs. He doesn’t want to think about that, even as Nausicaa tenderly untwines her fingers from his.

“I have no place else to go,” he mutters, hating the uncertainty in his voice. He stands up abruptly. “If I am intruding, I should go.”

“No, no!” cries Al, jumping to his feet. “No, please stay. It is the very least we can do.”

Al does not stop talking until Trevor promises to stay at least three times and takes another slice of spice cake, although how it will fit in his stomach, Trevor has no idea.

They turn on the Ether so Trevor can call his mother and let her know he is fine. That’s when they find that she apparently called earlier that day. Trevor starts calling her back, but then he gets distracted watching a recording of Nausicaa’s speech with its abrupt flaming ending. In the recording, it looks like she must be dead. Trevor thanks his lucky stars that smoke from the fires obscures him on the cameras. He’s just a blurry image in the corner of the screen when he jumps to grab Nausicaa.

The footage has been playing on all the major news sites and has gotten millions of hits. The comments and sympathetic notes number in the thousands. Al begins thanking Trevor all over again.

Nausicaa wants to make an announcement on the Ether that she is alive and uninjured. She wants Trevor to be in it too, but he declines since he is supposed to be dead. He takes a shower instead, a real one with actual soap and water. The junker only had a sonic shower.

Trevor is happily drying his hair in the little bedroom they offer to let him stay in when Nausicaa comes bursting in. “The Bonalu leaders have called off the riot!” she cries. “They want to talk! I’m supposed to sit in on the negotiations.”

She gives him a hug that leaves him gasping and then flops on the bed, running her fingers through her hair dreamily. Arete appears in the doorway, but she only arches one eyebrow and pointedly pushes the door wide open. Trevor understands. His mom wouldn’t let him hang out with a girl alone in a room with the door closed either, even though he is practically a man.

Trevor watches Nausicaa with a bemused smile. He tries to push his wet hair down while she tells him, “It’s because I wasn’t mad about getting set on fire. I said I would rather die by fire than see conflict destroy our colony. Also, they think I must have powerful mojo or something. No one seems to remember you dragging me off and patting out the flames.”

Trevor laughs, sitting on the bed next to her.

“Well,” he says. “I guess watching you negotiate peace will keep me amused until it’s time to go home.”

Nausicaa grins and sits up. “You could also learn to fly the ship.”

“What ship?”

“Your dad’s ship,” she says and then smacks her forehead. “Oh, duh. I forgot to tell you. We found your dad’s old ship. Well,
we
didn’t, but it got found and now we have it. It’s this shiny little skiff that would be excellent for one or two people who wanted to go tooling around in the spheres. My dad was always hoping your dad would turn up so he could give it back as a proper thank you, but since you’re here we can give it to you.”

Trevor’s eyebrows must finally shoot right off his face because Nausicaa giggles.

“Yeah,” she says, “One of the transport ships found it floating around out there in the void and towed it back. We took possession of it because it was registered to Jonas Ulixes and we knew your dad would want his ship back. Who doesn’t want their ship back?”

“Wow!”

“Yeah,” she says again. “My dad takes me out in it every now and then so I can practice flying, but we are careful not to mess it up or anything. We haven’t even opened the holds so his stuff is still in there. Unless it’s food. Anything food wouldn’t last this long.”

“This is awesome!” cries Trevor, dreams of piloting almost too thick for him to see as he stumbles down the hall to ask Al about the ship.

Al is happy to talk about it and Trevor is thrilled to listen. “Yes, it runs perfectly. I maintain it regularly, in case your father comes back. I’ve checked all the engines and systems, but the holds were locked and I did not want to go poking through them, out of respect,” he tells Trevor eagerly.

He questions Trevor thoroughly about the boy’s knowledge of space flight and his studies so far. Then, looking thoughtful, Al scratches his beard and says, “A few days should be plenty of time for someone with your background to learn to fly it. I don’t pretend to know more than the basics of piloting, but that should be enough to get you home whenever it is time for you to go. You can return the ship to your father on Ithaca. How does that sound?”

Trevor thinks it sounds like the best idea ever. He collapses into bed that night with his head full of thoughts about the ship, the events of the day and Nausicaa, so full that he completely forgets to send a message home to his mom to let her know all is well.

He remembers late that night. “Oh well,” he yawns. “I’ll call mom tomorrow morning.”

Trevor promptly falls back to sleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

P
enelope always thought that losing your mind would be fun, a relief in many ways.

She’s often thought that running mad through the streets sounds like a great solution to the many trials and tribulations involved in living a good life, paying bills, raising her son and eating well-balanced meals. Today, Penelope is pretty sure that life has finally driven her insane, but she isn’t enjoying it nearly as much as she thought she would.

Penelope has not seen Ulixes since the day before yesterday when he finally left to go “gather intel.” It wasn’t that difficult to get rid of him. She just kept repeating that she needed time to get used to all this. She made a mental note to ask him about the best way to go insane.

He would know.

Ulixes said something about organizing a resistance when he left. She knows she should call people to warn them that a crazy man is running loose, but it’s just too awful to think about so instead she crawls back into bed and stays there, nursing a large pitcher of mint juleps.

She stares at the ceiling for hours on yet another sleepless night, trying to find a solution to this catastrophe. Where is Trevor? What really happened after he and that Ulixes man vanished into that mystery ship? What should she do now?

Penelope goes through the motions of preparing Ithaca for the semifinal round of the Nullball Tournament. Normally Ithaca felt spacious and relatively empty for the ten thousand people living in it. This last week, Penelope feels like they are up to their armpits in overhyped fans and unruly Nullball players, eating them all out of house and home, doing their best to destroy everything in the place.

Her first order of business is to contact the Caribbean Coffee Conglomerate and beg for an express shipment of anything edible. The semifinal games are today and the finals are scheduled for tomorrow, but at this rate, the players will be peeling the biosteel girders off the walls by noon and the fans will start eating them.