Red Moon Rising (18 page)

“Aunt Billie,” I say, and it feels strange, these words rolling off my tongue. I think of Klara keeping watch over Fist and crying over Natka's shine tree wound all those weeks ago, how she holds reign over a whole village and yet often allows her emotions to so quickly overcome her. Aunt Billie is the opposite of this, and yet . . . she is not weak.

“Where do you take us?”

Aunt Billie smiles, looking weary. “There are many things that have not been revealed to you, Rae.”

We are just outside the market when Aunt Billie kneels, pushing aside a great boulder that should be nearly four times too heavy for her to move on her own. The wind whips her hair in great bands above her head.

When I approach, I see that the boulder has been hollowed out so that it holds its huge size, but is quite lightweight. Beneath the boulder is a hole with a staircase descending into darkness.

Aunt Billie begins climbing down the stairs, and I follow her. Natka makes a disgruntled sound, but follows us.
At the bottom of the stairs there is a rough fabric bag of flameless flares, the same sort with the Star Farmers stamp that the Cheese have also used. Aunt Billie cracks a flare.

“Mind the step,” she says, gathering her skirt and jumping down onto a rectangular platform. I jump behind her, Natka behind me. The platform is big enough to hold the three of us plus more. There are metal railings on two sides and no railings in the front or back. The platform is stamped with the outline of a female figure with wings.

“Now, hold the rails,” she instructs. I do as she says and Natka follows what I do. Then, like Mara has blown her hardest breath, the platform shoots forward, barreling through the tunnel on wheels and a track.

“What is this?” I cry. The movement is both exhilarating and sickening—like riding a dactyl for the first time. I run my foot over the etching of the winged woman.

I turn to Natka and he is grinning broadly, despite himself.

“There are a series of these tunnels within the moon,” Aunt Billie shouts over the rumbling noise. “They were here when our people first landed, used for trading between the people of the Red Crescent and the Kihuut. This one leads to the cave where your grandparents first sheltered upon crashing. It will take us directly to the
Origin
.”

Well, how about that?

The “wings of angels” aren't how I pictured them at all.

25

THE RAILS HAVE CARRIED US
far in a short amount of time. Aunt Billie leads us off the platform and from the tunnel into a cave. There is a pool of water that must be where Origin Township fills its barrels.

There are drawings on the cave walls that I can barely make out with the orange light of the flameless flare. Crude approximations of the Cheese and the
Kwihuutsuu
. Mara, Oonatka and Oonan, Ebibi and A'akow are there, too. There is another figure along with them who is painted a bright red. I wonder if this is the god of Hosani, the Red Crescent.

Aunt Billie walks past the cave paintings without a second look. I guess she's seen them so many times they mean nothing to her now. I could stay for days, studying the
stories, learning more of the ceremonies I've already seen. Natka seems keen to stay on Aunt Billie's heels, so I have to run to catch up to them.

They stand at an opening that must lead to Maasakota, but the opening is dark and caged. Aunt Billie removes a set of keys from a pocket in her skirt and unlocks the crisscrossing metal door. She steps forward and rolls away a hollowed-out boulder that has been hiding the cage from the outside.

Natka's mouth is open. He seems surprised and impressed with the ingenuity of the
ro-ri-ta
humans.

We close the door and reposition the boulder and then follow Aunt Billie into the gorge, appearing right at the crushed nose of the
Origin
.

A flash of electricity sparks overhead and my belly sinks. We may have lost all time to outrun the storm.

Aunt Billie weaves through boulders and wreckage and takes us to a spot where the
Origin
has separated into two pieces, a great distance from where Temple and I and Fist and Jo camped so many months ago. Aunt Billie walks us through a curtain of ripped wires and unrecognizable debris, into a ruined section of the belly of the ship.

We move swiftly, light from the waning suns and the Red Crescent filtering in through the countless crumbling floors above us that are cracked and corroded and full of holes.

At last, Aunt Billie shoves away a boulder that has crashed through the weakened wall. There is a door behind it.

When I get closer I see that the boulder is another hollowed-out monster that is much lighter than it appears to be. Aunt Billie pulls the keys from her pocket again and unlocks the door.

Natka hisses and I have to agree. What is going on?

We follow her over the threshold and into a room that has been rebuilt. The floors, walls, ceiling are meticulously clean. There are mostly empty shelves, some boxes and drawers. In the far corner there is a machine that hums as if it is alive.

“This is where I store the real medicine,” Aunt Billie says. “What's left of it.”

Her face is unemotional, though she blinks slowly, looking tired. “This was not meant to be a secret from you, Rae,” she says. “Just a place that you needn't worry yourself about. In time I would have told you. You would have needed to know, as my true apprentice.”

Her true apprentice. She was teaching me small things here and there, tinctures and poultices, things like that. She was allowing me to watch treatments and procedures. But it was never explicitly stated that I would be her apprentice. I could have been the physician of Origin Township one day. Perhaps I still could be.

Natka has walked over to the humming box in the corner. He places his hand on top of it, then pulls at a little door handle on its front. When the front of the box opens he gasps and jumps back, and even across the room I can feel the cold air rolling from the machine.

I rush to him and we both peer into the box, seeing small vials and boxes among the fog that is now gathering and spilling from the cold box. Aunt Billie comes up behind me and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“It runs on power from the suns,” she says. “Like your gogs.”

“I haven't worn my gogs in nearly a full summer,” I mutter, waving my hand back and forth in the fog. Natka picks up one of the vials.

“Don't touch that!” Aunt Billie says, her voice going sharp.

Natka's eyes narrow and he picks up another vial just to defy her, I guess.

“Natka, please,” I say.
“Naa aka oo kakeela.”
Do not be a child.

He puffs air through his upturned nose, but puts the vials back.

“I need this machine to keep certain medicines cold,” Aunt Billie says.

There is a tremendous bang outside, rattling the shelves. We all jump.

It is difficult for me to think of what to say next. My mind is muddled with Klara's worry, Jo's words, the fear of the storm, fear for Fist's life, needing to get back to the village, but also struggling to comprehend this room, and how it's been hidden in this mess of a ship for all these years. So many secrets.

“All those times someone was dying of a fever, you could
have come here and found the medicine to save them?” My hands are on my hips, my breath coming hard.

“Ramona, it's not like that,” Aunt Billie says. “There is a finite supply. We have to judge who is strong enough to fight the germs without medicine, who is so weak the medicine wouldn't work anyway. There is more to treating illness than just throwing medicine at it.” She says this last part pointedly.

“I have warned the Cheese there is no such thing as miracle medication,” I say. “But they seem convinced you have some on hand. That you've used it before to save your own skin while killing off visitors from the Red Crescent.” I pause to watch her expression. “And that you used the germs to render the Kihuut nearly barren.”

Aunt Billie licks her lips and says, “That was before my time, Rae.” Then, as if her explanation is all I need, “What kind of infection is it that needs medication? I will find what you need and you can leave quickly. Before the storm gets worse.” She rummages through a series of drawers that line a wall. “What caused the wound?”

I know she won't speak further of the history of this fabled medicine and the germ weapon. I can tell by the shape of her mouth, by the rigidity of her jaw.

“Metal,” I say, wishing there were time to press her, to find out the truth. “At least I think so.”

“Is this wounded person a child or an adult?” Aunt Billie turns to look at me, asking unsaid questions with her eyes.

“An adult,” I say. “Adult Kihuut, not adult human.”

She pulls two sealed packages from a drawer and hands them to me. “I do not know the physiology of the natives on this moon, so I cannot promise this medicine will work. Also, this medicine is very old, Rae. More than forty summers. And it spent some time buried in the ground while this room was fashioned, so it's been exposed to high heat. This Cheese will have to take much more of the medicine than he or she would if it weren't so old and potentially damaged. I'd say double the dose and hope that works.”

I look at the packages: “500 mg twice daily, seven days” is stamped on the foil along with the seal of the Star Farmers Act. Little pills. That is all. Little pills that stand between the strongest man I know and the land of Ebibi.

“If his fever has not gone after two days, then the medicine is not working and there is nothing to be done. You would be good not to give him more of it so you can save the rest for someone else. Some medicines work for certain bacteria, others do not. I am only guessing that this will help. If his fever begins to go away, continue giving the pills until they are gone, even if he feels better. Do you understand?”

I nod.

“Go now, before the storm worsens.” She puts her hand out, drops it, closes her eyes, then puts her hand back out and rests it gently on my cheek. I lean into it, despite myself. I relax a small amount at the feel of her callused hand. It is so different from the feel of Klara's scales and claws, and yet, just as familiar. It brings me back to the homestead, to
sitting by the cooling grate telling stories in the evenings. It makes me think of nightly prayers and helping make biscuits. It makes me remember tying ribbons on birthday gifts for Temple. It makes me remember my life before.

I cannot leave without asking more questions. I cannot.

“Is this the same medicine that saved the humans when you were young?” I whisper. “The same medicine that doomed us to this moon by not working for the infected people of the Red Crescent?”

Aunt Billie's eyes open and fill with tears. She nods.

“And the humans released the germ on purpose?”

“Only the true elders knew the whole story, Ramona, and they have all perished. From what I understand, they trusted the medicine would work on all humanoid life forms. Releasing the germ could only have been meant as a last resort, Ramona, for bargaining in case the people proved to be unwilling to share their planet.”

“Well. The humans got a lot more than they bargained for, didn't they?”

Aunt Billie doesn't smile. Neither do I. A moment passes. Then two. Natka gestures that we need to leave. I can hear the storm pounding outside.

“Why are you doing this, Aunt Billie? Why give precious medicine to a Cheese? You don't even know if he's strong or weak, whether these pills will work at all.”

“You brought back the baby, Rae. I will not betray your peace offering. And maybe by cooperating, we can show the Cheese that we are not who we were. If we
cannot compromise, then life on this moon is without hope. That's what I told Brother Livingston.”

I nod, memorizing her hand on my cheek, thinking of that same hand braiding my hair, playfully swatting at Temple when she'd try to sneak biscuits before dinner.

I do not know if I will be back to see these hands again. I feel like I know so much, and yet so little. I take a deep breath to steady my emotions. Natka has already turned to leave.

“Rae,” Aunt Billie says. “Please tell Benny that I've never stopped thinking of him, that I love him dearly. And Temple . . . make sure she knows how much I miss her, how much I love her. And you.” She swallows hard. “As does your papa.”

I nod again, unable to find my voice.

“Will you come home, Rae?” Aunt Billie asks, barely above a whisper. “For good?”

I don't know what I shall do. “I must see that Fist is healed,” I say.

“Will you see that Temple comes home, at least? She is still so young, so impressionable.” There is a deafening explosion outside.

“I can only do what the gods will,” I say, my voice soft.

Aunt Billie closes her eyes and smiles and I feel a terrible wave of guilt. I do not think we speak of the same gods anymore.

She guides us out of the small room and back into the filthy wreckage. “Be careful, Rae,” she says.

I grasp her in a tight hug. This time I am the one to kiss the top of her head.

“I love you, Aunt Billie,” I say into her hair. “Thank you for your kindness today.” I pull back and swallow hard. “Please give my regards to Papa.”

Aunt Billie nods, then waves her hand, shooing us away.

“Go. Now.”

I nod, walking briskly through the wreckage and back into the gorge. Natka blows his whistle and a few seconds later Kwihuu and Suu swoop into the gorge, landing at our feet. I jump into Kwihuu's saddle and grab the reins. She nips at my feet.

“Hey, girl, it's nice to see you, too,” I say, flicking the reins and giving her a quick pat.

Electricity arcs through the sky, raising the hair on my arms.

“Rae!” Aunt Billie calls to me. “Keep your sister safe!”

I nudge Kwihuu and we are in the sky, the
Origin
shrinking below us, the medicine for Fist safely in my hand, lightning flashing all around. I see Aunt Billie running to the cave. She disappears behind the fake boulder in a burst of wind and skirts and hair and it is a relief that she is safe within the rocks.

Kwihuu pulls at her reins, asking to climb higher through the clouds. “You lead the way,” I shout to her, patting her neck. “You can outrun this storm. I believe in you.”

But Natka is holding Suu back. “We must stay in
Maasakota
,” he yells between booms. “Let the beasts fly free. Storm will finish. Kwihuu and Suu will return for us.”

I shake my head. “These storms can last for days sometimes, Natka. It will be faster if we just risk it and fly.”

Natka snaps his bony lip angrily. He's tired, I know. And worried. I am as well.

I yell over the wind, “Please do not fight me. We can make it,
kotan
.” Brother.

Natka snaps his bony lip once again, but I see a smile play at his eyes as he nudges Suu to move faster. “Gum
ro-ri-ta kotani
you are, Tootie,” he says over his shoulder.

The
Kwihuutsuu
dart and dodge, making it above the clouds, the storm nipping at our feet like an angry beast.

We have the medicine. We can save Fist. We just have to get to him.