On Whetsday (13 page)

28

They buried Poppa Jam in a little empty space between two of the compartment buildings. There was no cemetery in the quarter. Few people had died in Jukal in the past–if you didn't count all those who had been consigned–and always before those few who died had been turned over to the cithians. The cithians recycled their own dead. No one was sure what they did with the dead humans.

Denny had never even heard the word cemetery before. It was Poppa Gow who explained about cemeteries. About burying. There had been such a place back at Hanti Plex, many years before.

No one had suggested that they hand Poppa Jam's body over to the cithians. No one had suggested calling the Overcontroller, or any of the dasiks. Instead, they had taken the man's body carefully through the tight maze of buildings, to one of the few spots in the whole quarter where the ground was not paved. Then, using tools they took from Poppa Jam's own store, they dug a hole in the hard, gray, stony ground. Cousin Haw did most of the digging, when he wasn't crying. Then they put Poppa Jam in the hole. No one said anything. They didn't know what to say.

Denny wondered if all the people who were consigned, and the few who died, ended up in the same place. In his mind, he pictured a strange kind of cemetery, one with only one grave, and one big marker that said simply “Humans.”

“What did he mean,” Denny asked. “What's Jessyn?”

“Jamison's wife,” said Auntie Talla. “She was consigned...well, before you were born.”

Kettle looked at Denny as the others started to wander away. “What do we do now?” he asked.

Of all the things that had happened, Denny thought that one of the strangest was that Kettle was asking him what to do. “We leave,” he said. “We talk to everyone again, and we get away, as fast as we can.”

Together, Denny and Kettle helped Cousin Haw fill the hole.

29

Denny got off the lift at the very top floor, and pushed through the screen of leafy vines that drooped down over the wide door. The air up here was warm, damp, and carried the scents of soil and life. He squinted into the darkness. “Poppa Gow?”

Sometime, long before Denny was born, but after the population of the human quarter had started its long, steady drop, Poppa Gow had knocked down most of the walls on the top floor. Even after the accident had taken his legs, Gow had kept working in the building, reshaping it, changing the nest of tiny compartments into big, open spaces, and filling the area near the windows with pots, and troughs, and basins that supported many different kind of plants. The center of the floor was given over to winding paths that cut through areas filled with a plain gray mix of sand and gravel, most of it rubble from the buildings of the quarter–rotting bricks, bits of pavement, crumbling plaster. Somehow Poppa Gow had made the different shades of gray into twisting lines that sometimes turned into feathery mazes, sometimes into islands that rose up above surrounding sand. Denny never saw Gow working on this. How the man got through the sand in his wheeled chair, Denny didn't know.

Poppa Gow didn't answer his call, but eventually Denny found him anyway. The old man was near a window, holding up a plant with small pointy leafs. The brightness of Passday was fading, and at the moment all the plants looked to Denny as if they were flat black under the light of the red sun.

“Poppa Gow?” he tried again.

The man turned to him with a sad smile. “Hello, Denny. Did you finish with my old friend, Jam?”

“Yes. We...”

Gow raised a bony hand. “Please. It's enough to know he was cared for.” He sat the plant down carefully on a small table, and lifted another pot, turning it back and forth as he inspected a small plant. “Did you know that Jam was older than me?”

Denny was surprised. “No.”

“He was. Older than everyone except Loma.” He put the second plant down and looked back at Denny. “I suppose that now I am the oldest. Maybe the oldest human in all the universe.” His smile returned, not so sad this time. “And you are the youngest. That makes it very fit that you would come to see me.”

Denny spotted a small stool between two nearby pots. He sat down carefully, not sure the stool would hold his weight. “I came to bring you back to Restaurant.”

“But I am not hungry,” said Poppa Gow.

“You don't have to eat, but we need to talk.”

“Why?” He picked up a small pair of scissors and trimmed a tiny branch from the plant. “I think we have already decided what we are doing.”

Denny slumped down, resting his arms on his knees. “I can't get Auntie Yue and Auntie Fro to come.”

“I didn't expect they would.” Poppa Gow turned the plant slowly around in his hands. “Probably they would not have come even if our friend Jam had not left us so suddenly.”

“Nonni Hacci doesn't want to come either.”

“Also expected.”

“But if you tell them you are coming, then...”

“No,” said Poppa Gow. He put the little plant back in its place and looked squarely at Denny. “I will not be going.”

Denny felt an ache settle over his body. They hadn't even tried to get away, but already a third of the humans in Jukal were lost. Or dead. The whole idea of getting away felt both silly and hopeless.

Poppa Gow put a hand on Denny's shoulder. At first his touch was light, but his fingers gripped with surprising strength. “Don't think of this as a failure. After all, we wouldn't know what was happening if you had not told us.”

“But does it matter?” asked Denny. “Even if we get away, there are so few of us.”

“It would matter if there was only one,” said Poppa Gow. He gave Denny's shoulder a final squeeze. “I think you already knew that.”

30

Skimsday

On Skimsday, Denny led an escape. He stood on the sidewalk outside the spaceport, near the place where he had danced so many times, and waited for the others to arrive. The low Skimsday suns made the spaceport seem like a different place, full of shadows and slowly shifting colors. There was also very little activity at the port today, only two shuttles coming in, and none scheduled to depart. Denny hoped they could change that schedule. One shuttle, headed out.

Down along the dotted line on the road, one ground transport arrived, and then another. The first of the day's scheduled shuttles descended on a tail of lightning and thunder. A few minutes later, Denny had to step aside so a crowd of cithians and a single tall, crested klickik could get from the doors of the port to the transport. He worried that the pods from the quarter might arrive while there were so many people there. Even one human drew a lot of attention out of the quarter. It would be hard to explain what seven of them were doing at the port together. But the next set of pods were also empty, and the cithians and the klickik left quickly. For several minutes after that, Denny worried that the transport from the quarter was taking too long to arrive, and that they would miss their chance.

Finally, the doors of two transport pods opened and humans poured out. Auntie Talla and Cousin Sirah were in the first pod with Auntie Flash. Auntie Talla was wearing the long robe Denny had seen her put on for trips to the market and carried a large rucksack in each hand. Cousin Sirah had her dark hair wrapped in a cloth, and a pack slung across her back. Auntie Flash seemed to be having trouble walking. Whatever sickness it was that caused her to tremble was worse than ever, and it seemed that both her arms and legs wanted to twist around instead of move straight.

The second pod let out Cousin Yulia. Like Sirah, she also had a large pack slung across her back and another rucksack that was so heavy she held onto it with both hands. After a wait of several seconds, Cousin Haw appeared with his big arms holding a large box that made even Haw struggle under its weight.

Auntie Talla led the group across the path to where Denny was standing. “Are we ready?”

“Kettle isn't out yet,” said Denny, “but he should be soon. Why did you bring so much stuff? I thought we agreed that we were going to leave all our things behind?”

The low suns sent purple shadows chasing across Auntie Talla's face. “This shuttle of yours, how long does it take to get to another world?”

Denny thought about it. There was signboards inside the spaceport that told about arrival and departures of shuttles, but he couldn't remember any of them actually telling how long the trips would be. “I don't know,” he admitted.

“And how much food is on each shuttle–food that humans can eat?”

“I don't...”

“What about water? Do they have water?”

Denny slumped. “I don't know.”

Auntie Talla held out one of the sacks she was carrying. “Here. Take this. You'll be happy we have it if it turns out the shuttle only serves up food fit for skynx.”

The moisture-clouded door of the port hissed open and Kettle stepped out. Even from a distance Denny could see that Kettle was nervous, and as he hurried over to them, Denny could see that he was actually sweating.

“Is this everybody?” asked Kettle.

“Everybody that's coming,” said Denny.

Disappointment flashed over Kettle’s face, but after a moment he went on. “We need to go fast. All the dasiks are down at loading area five. I'm supposed to be there too, helping to load a shuttle for the chugs. But there's another shuttle waiting at the very first area–loading area one. It's not supposed to fly until Dimsday, but when we get inside, that's where we’re going.”

“What if the dasiks see us?” asked Yulia.

“If they do...” Kettle shrugged. “I don't know. Come on. Let's just hurry.”

They went up the ramp with Kettle in the lead. Despite the urgency, there was only so fast they could move, laden down with bags and boxes of food. Even if they hadn't been carrying a thing, Auntie Flash was still having trouble moving at more than a slow walk.

“It stinks in here,” Cousin Haw loudly as they entered the port.

“It always does,” said Kettle. “You kind of get used to it.”

They went up the ramp inside the door. Kettle stood beside his mother, letting Auntie Flash lean on him as they moved toward the first area. Despite his size, Haw staggered along under the weight of the box, leaning back and holding it against his chest. Denny wondered just how many mummions and poppers, and how many blocks of chez, Auntie Talla had packed inside.

To Denny it seemed as if the spaceport had stretched out. The distance from the door to the first loading area wasn't a few dozen steps, it was more like a few thousand, and during every one of them he expected a dasik to appear, its long fingers clutching a weapon. The curve of the hall inside the port was great enough that they couldn't see past loading area three, but Denny thought he could spot shadows of motion around the curve and hear the dasiks at their work.

Kettle helped Auntie Flash to a space near the door. “We're going right through here,” he said, speaking quietly. “When we get outside, go straight to the shuttle. The loading door is open, so we should be able to go right inside.”

Everyone nodded. Kettle raised his hand and laid it against a pad beside the door. Nothing happened. He raised his hand, and then pressed it back again. The door remained closed.

“What's wrong?” asked Auntie Flash.

Kettle waved his hand at the plate a third time. “I don't know. It should open.”

Denny took a few steps down the hall, craning his neck to be sure the dasiks weren't approaching. “Is there another way? Maybe if we go down to area three...”

“No. If we go that far, we'll be seen. Besides, there are walls outside between the landing areas.”

Yulia stepped up beside Kettle. “This is the lock?”

Kettle nodded. His face was fixed in concentration as he slowly raised his hand to it again. “It opens when I put my palm to it. Or when the dasiks touch it with their claws.”

“Only not this time.” Yulia leaned in closer. She dropped the rucksack she was carrying, then put a finger on the glass next to the pad, tracing an almost invisible line beneath the surface. “I think I see,” she said. Everyone tried to lean in closer as Yulia followed the line up and away.

“What did you find?” asked Denny.

Yulia looked around at Kettle. “Have you ever tried to get to a shuttle on a day it wasn't scheduled before?”

“Sure,” said Kettle. Then his expression changed. “I mean...I think so. Except, well, maybe no.” He shrugged. “I guess I never had a reason to try.”

“Right.” Yulia nodded. She looked around at them all. “I think this pad is connected to some kind of central control. Probably some kind of maton. It not only knows who is supposed to be here, it knows which areas are active.”

“So we can't get in?” said Auntie Talla.

“No. Except.” Yulia ran one hand through the tangled mass of her curls. “I think there might be a way.” She reached into the pocket of her oversized jacket.

Before Yulia even had her hand free of her pocket, Denny realized what she was doing. He dashed toward her. “No, Yulia. You can't.”

Yulia's hand reappeared. In it was the cloth-wrapped form of the silver maton. “Athena talked to other matons before. She can probably talk to this one, too.”

Denny reached out toward her, but hesitated. “You can't.”

Sirah appeared at his elbow. “Yulia, please don't. You saw what it did to Poppa Jam.”

For a moment, Yulia only stared at the object in her hand. Slowly, she nodded. “You're right. It is dangerous.”

Denny started to relax. “If we leave now–”

Before he could finish the sentence, Yulia ripped off the cloth covering and took a firm hold on the silver ball. For one terrible second, her body convulsed. Her chin went up, and the muscles of her neck and face grew so tight that she bared her teeth in a horrible grin of pain. Then Yulia relaxed.

“Yulia?”

“It's okay,” she said. “I'm okay.”

It was clear that Athena was once again visible to Yulia, as she quickly began explaining the situation and asked the woman from the maton if she could open the door. “Yes, right now.” Yulia looked around, taking her eyes from the place in space where Athena was standing. “She's talking to the port maton. It should take just a second.”

No sooner has she said this, than a tone sounded from the lock plate. The door to loading area one slid open.

“Everyone out,” said Kettle. “Hurry.”

Denny grabbed the bag that Yulia had been carrying and followed Kettle and Auntie Flash through the door. Outside, the tarmac of the shuttle area was crisscrossed with shadows, but as Kettle had said, the massive form of the shuttle itself was directly in front of the door. He could have run faster, but with Auntie Flash at the front of the line and Cousin Haw weighted with a huge box at the other end, it seemed to take the little line of humans a good slice of forever just to cross the few dozen steps to the bottom of the shuttle.

The biting smell of ammonia followed them through the door, but there was another, even stronger smell here. A heavy, burnt smell tinged with ozone. The tarmac crunched slightly with every footstep, as if the whole place had been baked hard as a cracker. Even just walking across the space seemed to release more of that burnt smell.

When Denny finally stumbled up the bronze metal of the shuttle ramp, he felt both relief and awe. The machine was as large as the one he had helped Kettle load before. The room at the base of the shuttle was easily as large as the gather room where Auntie Talla held Restaurant, and the ceiling was twice as high. At the moment, all that space was empty. When they dropped their few bags and boxes into the space, it seemed like a few crumbs in a huge empty closet.

Denny tossed the bag he was carrying in with the rest and turned around. Down the ramp, he could see back across the tarmac to the door of the port. There was still no sign of the dasiks, but he couldn't imagine that would last much longer. If nothing else, the dasiks were sure to notice that Kettle hadn't returned. “Close the ramp.”

“Right.” Kettle walked over to the side of the big space. On the wall of the empty storage bay was a group of panels, similar to the one that Kettle had touched when trying to open the door. But this time, he hadn't even raised his hand before a deep frown cross his face. “This isn't the way it's supposed to be.”

“What's wrong?”

“I...” He stopped, turned around, and waved to Yulia. “Over here,” he called.

Yulia seemed to be slow as she approached them, moving as if she was half asleep. Denny saw that the maton was still in her hand. Before Kettle could even explain the problem, she looked at them and said, “It's broken.”

“Fix it,” said Denny. “Like you did the door.”

Yulia was silent for a moment, then she shook her head. “It's not like that,” she said. “This shuttle came in early because it has problems. Athena says it's scheduled to be serviced later today, and it can't work right now. There's no power. None at all.”

Kettle looked as if he'd been kicked. “I didn't know,” he said. He turned around until he was facing his mother. “I didn't know,” he repeated.

“Of...course...you didn't,” said Auntie Flash.

Denny went to the top of the ramp and looked around. As Kettle had said, there were walls all around the space where the shuttle was sitting. There were gates in the walls, but they were all closed. “What do we do now?”

“We leave,” said Auntie Talla. “It was a good try, but it didn't work. We leave.”

Cousin Haw started to pick up the heavy box, but Auntie Talla waved him off. “Leave it. Let’s just go.”

Denny clenched his fists in frustration. He knew Talla was right. If the shuttle didn't work, they weren't likely to fix it, and if they stayed too long, the dasiks would come. But it seemed wrong. Badly wrong. Getting away from the planet was their only chance.

Sirah came up beside him. “Denny? What are we…”

Before she could finish, an alarm began to sound.