Blood Ocean (23 page)

“Come on, Princess. We all know that there is no cure. We all know that the blood is for the Real People.”

“Kavika,” Kaja whispered sharply.

Kavika straightened and shook his head. “No, Kaja. Do you see what she’s asking us to do?”

Kaja stood as well and turned to Kavika. “It’s what we have to do to survive. Let’s face it. There are more of them than there are of us. Don’t you want us to survive? Your actions have put us at risk and will put us in greater danger yet.”

“My actions?” Kavika scoffed. “What about Keoni and all the other Hawaiians who have been blood raped and monkey-backed? Are we going to sacrifice them for the good of the many, Princess? Are we going to give up our blood for the white people?”

“Do not speak directly to the Princess,” commanded the thin Hawaiian on her right.

Kavika turned to the Pali Boy leader. “Kaja,” he said, trying to control the indignation in his voice. “You can’t possibly be in agreement. She wants us to forget her people, she wants—”

“Silence!” Princess Kamala stood. “Do not presume to know what I want, Pali Boy. I don’t want to lose anyone. Each person we lose to this secret I’ve kept all this time wounds me and the people. When Keoni was monkey-backed, I felt it. When your sister got Minimata, I felt it. When you were monkey-backed, I felt it. I feel it all and it hurts me.” She took a step forward, made a fist and held it to Kavika’s face. But he stared past this to the tears in her deep brown eyes. “But it would be much worse if the Neo-Clergy came and attacked us. For all the high-flying, death-defying stunts my Pali Boys pull every day, it would be nothing in the face of their weapons.
Nothing.
Do you hear me? We’d all be killed.”

She stumbled backwards, the effort to remain standing too much. The Samoan caught her and both he and the other man stared angrily at Kavika.

“And then where would we be?” she asked tiredly.

Her impassioned speech had captured him. He fell to his knees. “Princess, what do you mean, ‘Neo-Clergy’? ‘Weapons?’”

She was silent for a moment, as if considering something, then she regarded him.

“We are not alone in this world, Kavika. A lot of the people in the city think that this is all that’s left of humanity, but let me tell you, we are only a speck in the middle of a great ocean. There are other floating cities and places on land where people still struggle to survive.

“Before the Great Plague, the white men were as plentiful as the fish in the ocean. The Cull was a leveler. It killed off most of them. But like cockroaches, they found a way to survive. They discovered a way to cheat this fate. This is the reality we live with.”

“Why did the Japanese let this happen?” Kavika said.

Princess Kamala shook her head. “I’ve said too much already.” She turned again to Kaja, who bowed his head. “Tell Kavika that we
must
remain in balance. Tell him that he does not have my support.”

Kavika looked into the princess’s face, but she averted her gaze. He got the message. He scooted back a few feet and stood. Kaja tapped him on the shoulder and gestured that it was time to leave. But as he was ushered out the door, he couldn’t help but ask, “You knew my father, didn’t you, Princess?”

“Yes, boy. And he didn’t listen to me either.”

Then they were out the door.

Kaja didn’t wait for him. He took the stairs two at a time. When Kavika managed to join him halfway across the deck, Kaja game him a walleyed look. “You should have just shut up.”

“I couldn’t help it. Hey, what’d she mean when she said my father didn’t listen to her either?”

“You work it out. I’m too busy right now.”

“Busy doing what?”

“Trying to figure out how in the hell I’m going to save your ass when you go and tip the balance again.”

“What?” Kavika asked, but he realized he was alone.

Kaja was already swinging away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

T
WO HOURS LATER
he and Lopez-Larou stood beside the ship the Sky Winkers called home, the deck scattered with the viewing chambers that looked like immense smokestacks.

In the meantime, he’d filled her in on what the princess had told him.

“I think she expects you to do something.”

“But she told me not to.”

“That’s not what she said.” She’d tapped her finger to his forehead. “You need to listen with this, not just your ears. She said that your father didn’t listen to her either, right?”

He’d nodded.

“Two things. How does she know that you aren’t going to listen to her? You haven’t done anything yet, but she’s talking like it’s a done deal.”

Kavika had nodded again as the truth was laid out. “And the other?”

“That your father had been in a position just like you. Didn’t you say he died?”

“Yes, diving the line.”

“And were there any strange circumstances about his death?”

“Not that I heard. Do you think—”

She’d shrugged. “I’m not sure what to think, but the Princess seems to have her own ideas.”

Now, standing before the Sky Winkers, Kavika tried to come to terms with the idea that something might have intentionally been done to his father.

They boarded the ship and walked towards the first door. It was locked, as were all the others except one. It was strange that the deck was so clear of people. This was probably the only place like that in the city.

They went through the door and found stairs going down into the hold. As they descended, they could see the entire cargo hold. Several large circles of light struck the floor beneath the smokestacks. Men and women huddled in the darkness at the edges of the circles.

They almost tripped over a man resting on the stairs.

“Have you seen Leb?” Kavika asked.

The man lifted a finger and pointed towards midway down the hold.

Kavika and Lopez-Larou made their way through the host of slumbering bodies, taking short-cuts through the middle of the light when they could because it was the only empty space. When they arrived at the right place, Kavika searched for Leb’s face. When he saw it, he reached down and shook the man’s shoulder.

Leb woke immediately, but at first he didn’t recognize Kavika. He got to his feet. He was still wearing his
I Grok Science
shirt, although Kavika imagined it might have been washed at least once or twice since they’d last met.

“
El Gato
,” he said. Then to Lopez-Larou, “I don’t think that we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Doctor Timothy Lebbon. Friends call me Leb.”

Lopez-Larou exchanged pleasantries, then she asked “What kind of doctor are you?”

“I’m the kind who likes to stare at the sky. It’s why I am here.”

“
El Gato
?” Kavika asked, interrupting. “Is that ‘cat’? Are you calling me a cat?”

“Only because you must have nine lives. We heard about your escape. We were very happy for you, but we don’t like what’s happening because of it.”

“Or like curiosity killed the cat?” Lopez-Larou glanced at Kavika. “Right. Where have you heard that before?”

“Neo-Clergy,” said Kavika, simply.

“Ah. Right to it, aren’t you?” Leb grabbed Kavika’s elbow and pushed him to a place where no one else was near. “What do you want to know about them?”

“For starters... everything.”

“Do you mean you’ve never heard of them?” Leb glanced back and forth to gauge their reactions. “Of course you haven’t. What am I thinking? You all are townies. You live your life inside the city.”

“And you don’t?” Lopez-Larou countered.

“No, we do. But we try not to. Every waking hour we concentrate on communicating out of this place, especially to our satellites in space.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Lopez-Larou nudged Kavika.

He ignored her. “The Neo-Clergy?”

“Right,” Leb said, getting back to it. “The Neo-Clergy goes back to the first days of the Cull. Their full name is the Apostolic Church of the Rediscovered Dawn, but they’re commonly referred to as Neo-Clergy. It’s a Christian group that relies equally on prayer and automatic weapons. They believe in their own God-given right to survive, and have let no one stand in their way.”

“Are they violent?” Kavika asked.

Leb nodded vigorously. “Of the worst kind. Not only are they supremacists, but they take advantage of smaller secluded groups. They’ve been using Fiji and Guam as farms for more than a decade.”

“Farms like they have here with the Mga Taos?” Kavika asked.

“
Had
. Stress the past tense. The monkey ship is going to sink. No doubt about it. The bombs your girl and the Vs used were enough to kill it.”

“How’d you know?” Lopez-Larou asked.

“You call us ‘Sky Winkers’ and you think we’re stupid, but we watch everything.” He looked back at Kavika, “They use the blood to stay alive. Not all of them need it, mind you, but some of them require transfusions or they’ll die. In the early days, they were a little weak on the science – from what we understand, they just took the blood from children – but they forced the surviving scientists at Los Alamitos to work on the problem. Since then, they’ve devised better ways of harvesting and delivering the Diego antigen to people from blood groups that should be dead.”

Kavika shook his head. “Then why are the Japanese involved? Why help the white guys?”

“It’s bigger than that now. At first, the Neo-Clergy concentrated on keeping their church members alive, but it’s since spread. This city is a cooperative venture between the Japanese Ishihama International Corporation and the Neo-Clergy. The Japanese need the Diego antigen as much as anyone. In this day and age, it’s the only chance to survive.”

“Jesus,” Lopez-Larou said. “It’s such a waste. Instead of trying to keep some old men alive, why not concentrate on achieving a decent birthrate? As it stands now, a woman has half a dozen miscarriages before a fetus develops with the proper blood. Why not concentrate on the future instead of the past?”

“Don’t kid yourself. That’s what the Japanese are doing. Earth is past the point where people are merely trying to survive. Now it’s a matter of who ends up on top—who has the highest concentrated population.”

“Why does it matter?” Kavika asked. “Why can’t we all just live in peace? My father talked about how there used to be world wars. I thought we were beyond that now.”

“You would have thought that we were, but national identity survived the Cull. The Japanese want to be on top.”

“And to hell with everyone else.”

“But don’t you see? You’re doing the same thing, if less aggressively,” Leb said. “You identify yourselves as Hawaiians. Who you are is based on what blood you have. That’s what the Cull tried to stop.” He put a hand on his own chest. “Take us, for instance. You call us the Sky Winkers. The term has nothing to do with blood. We come from all races. Our identity is based on a shared vision and a thirst for knowledge.”

“But how else am I to identify myself?”

“How about as a Pali Boy? Sure, you define being a Pali Boy as being a Hawaiian warrior, but it doesn’t have to be that way. If a Spanish or Chinese or Korean wanted to join the Pali Boys, would that be possible?”

“It would mean we’d have to change what a Pali Boy is.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Leb spread his hands wide. “That’s the point of all of this. The Cull gave us the opportunity to reset. We don’t have to operate under the same parameters. We can redefine ourselves however we want. It’s our choice.”

“I’m not sure we have the choice you think we do,” Kavika said. “As long as the leaders have any say, I’m sure we don’t. I can tell you right now that Princess Kamala wants us to remain Hawaiian. It’s probably the same for every other group.”

Leb grinned madly. “You’d be surprised. If this boat is any indication, we’re on a decent track. Although people have aligned themselves by blood and heritage, we’ve also begun aligning ourselves by interests. Vitamin-Vs”—he gestured towards Lopez-Larou— “
Los Tiburones
. These groups have come together and presented a united front, not because of blood, but because of what they do or believe.”

“Back to the Neo-Clergy,” reminded Lopez-Larou. “What can we do about them?”

“You’ve done a hell of a lot already. Sinking the ship, however accidental, is a huge blow to their farming. My guess is that they’ll be forced to start over, if not here, then somewhere else. Maybe some other floating city.”

“You said that before. Are there other places like this?” Kavika asked.

“Of course there are,” Leb nodded. “I mean, not with these dynamics, but there are other floating cities, yes.”

“Is that what the zeppelin is for?” Lopez-Larou asked.

Leb touched his nose with his forefinger. “Bingo! But that’s all I know about the machine. The Neo-Clergy knows about us and although we don’t present any threat to them, they still manage to hide things from us. It’s in their nature to be secretive.”

Kavika turned to Lopez-Larou. “It’d be bad if the zeppelin brought in more Neo-Clergy.” Then a idea dawned on him. “Wait—the Real People
are
Neo-Clergy, aren’t they?”

Leb leaned in close. “Of course they are. I mean, what are the odds that so many white folks in one place have the Diego antigen?”

“I see a lot of white people here,” Lopez-Larou. “How do we know that
you
don’t require blood to survive?”

“Well and honestly put, young lady. Now, you’re thinking. But I’m afraid all you have is our word. When the Cull happened, we were aboard the ship the Mga Taos are now using, the one that’s sinking. It was a university ship. I was assistant professor of physics. Those you see here”—he spread his arms—“are the surviving faculty and students and their offspring. We lost more than ninety per cent when the Cull hit. A lot of bright minds perished.” His face took on a somber expression. “Blood is blood, and it doesn’t care if you’re smart, stupid, black, white or pinstriped. We are what’s left, plain and simple.”

“What are we going to do?” Kavika asked, as much of Leb as of himself and Lopez-Larou.

Leb shook his head. “With the Neo-Clergy? I doubt there’s much you
can
do.”