The Colonists (The Movement Trilogy) (23 page)

Catrine messaged, Tarae says to Oona.

Oona seems to brighten. Catrine?

Ishy nods. Yes. She's coming here.
 

Does she know? Oona asks. Did someone tell her? She will be -- she'll be crushed.

Varien sent a reply, Tarae says. We didn't want to do it.

Ishy looks back at Varien, standing alone, and goes to him.
 

Are you okay? she asks.

Varien takes a deep breath. Are any of us?
 

I suppose not, Ishy says.

I don't feel like I knew her well enough to say I'm going to miss her, he says.

But you will.

Yeah, Varien says. I really will. I could feel -- I don't know. I could feel what my life was going to be like on this ship, with her, with all of you. And I liked it. I had this image of myself --
 

What image? Ishy asks.

It's ridiculous.
 

Tell me, she says.

I had this image, Varien confesses, of myself at, I don't know. At sixty. Still here. Sort of her trusted confidante. All sorts of unspoken things between us, years of friendship, all the little knowing glances and understandings that come with that. I've never had any of that, and -- I could --

You could feel that future, Ishy says.
 

Yeah. And I loved it.

We all felt that way. I always had this dream that Tasneem would give my eulogy, because, you know -- she'd still be around, right? She was a forever person, she'd probably bury my children and their children. She was my constant. She'd know us all better than anybody else ever could.

Varien smiles sadly, then looks at the containers at the far end of the deck.
 

Now she's gone, he says.

Ishy touches his hand. We'll miss her, but we'll be okay, too.
 

I don't know, he admits. There's nobody else like her.
 

Catrine, Ishy says. When she gets here, we'll ask her to come home for good. She'll carry us on.
 

Well, Varien says. We can ask her home, but the
Maasi
already has a new captain.

Ishy looks surprised. What do you mean? None of us --

Right, Varien says. None of us. Gather them all up, will you?
 

•
 
•
 
•

Ishy draws the other two together, and Varien chews his lip nervously.
 

Abruptly he says, I didn't know Tasneem well enough. But I loved her, just like I know you all loved her. She saw something in me that I didn't know was there. She gave my life something very close to purpose. She gave it meaning.
 

Oona says, What's going on?
 

Varien looks embarrassed. There's something very important I need to tell you all. There's something Tasneem -- she entrusted me with something vitally important to all of our futures. I'm nervous to say that to you, because you all knew her so well, and I don't know why she chose me to carry such an urgent secret. But she did.
 

What secret? Tarae asks.
 

Varien fiddles with the databand on his wrist, then removes it and cracks the band at a seam, revealing a holojack. He hands it to Ishy, who looks confused.

I suppose it's best to just show you, Varien says. Ishy, would you plug that in? I'm afraid I'd break it.

Oona and Tarae watch as Ishy carries the band to the deck's holotable. She bends over and exposes the data jack, then wrinkles her nose. Ishy blows into the jack, and a puff of dust filters out.
 

Careful, Varien says.
 

Ishy pushes the databand into the jack, then turns the table on and steps back.
 

Nothing happens.
 

She turns to Varien. What exactly are we --

The table flickers to life, and on the ceiling above, the holographic beam illuminates. The three-dimensional shape of a human appears faintly, and then begins to draw itself into existence, line by line, while the four
Maasi
crewmembers watch. It's like watching a tiny laser etch a figure into the air, and it takes an incredibly long time.

Tarae turns to Ishy. What is this?
 

Ishy shrugs.

Varien, still watching the hologram construct itself, says, Just before Tasneem shut us all up in the holding room, she gave me that databand. And this earpiece, too.

He removes the ear bud to show them.
 

Why? Oona asks.

I think that we should wait, he says, nodding in the direction of the holographic figure.
 

It is visible now from the thighs down. Above that point, the figure is still a faint, pale blue outline. Below that point, a pair of unfamiliar trousers has been drawn in, and a pair of odd, uncovered shoes. Ten distinctly masculine toes wiggle and flex beneath the cuff of the trousers.

It takes nearly an hour, but the time passes quickly. They watch the body appear, row by row, until they are staring at a young man with curly hair, a firm jaw, and two curious eyes. The man blinks, looks around the ship's deck, then turns his gaze downward and finds Oona, Tarae, Varien and Ishy.

The man speaks, but nothing can be heard.
 

Wait, Ishy says.
 

She goes to the holotable and bends over behind it. She pulls open the circuit panel with a clack, then pokes around inside. Everybody is staring at her when she stands up, holding a short cable.

Audio cable is fried, Ishy says. I don't suppose there's a replacement somewhere?

Tarae shakes her head. I could rip one out of the comms console, but I think we'd probably need it later.
 

Varien tilts his head up at the hologram. What's he doing? he asks.

The three women look up.
 

The figure is gesturing slowly, tracing invisible lines between his hands and his body.

It's sign language, Tarae says. I think.

Can you read it? Oona asks.

It's -- it's not like the signing I know, she says. I can't tell what he's saying.

They watch as the figure bows his head and seems to concentrate. Then he lifts his eyes to Tarae and paints another gesture in the air.

What's he saying? Varien asks.

Tarae smiles. He says he's sorry, that he was using a very old form of American Sign Language that he learned as a boy. I recognize what he's saying now. My mother lost her hearing when I was a girl, and we all learned to sign. Whatever American Sign Language is, it's completely unintelligible to me. But he's signing just like my mother now.

Ishy turns to Varien. Want to tell us who this is?
 

Tarae is still fixated on the figure.
 

He says his name is David, Tarae interprets, and that he's here to...

To what? Oona asks.

Tarae's face seems to go pale.
 

He says he's here to take us home, she says.

CATRINE

Reverend Purvis is out of breath when he arrives at the shuttleport.

Wait, he says. Please wait.
 

His cheeks are flushed when he lumbers to a stop at the second bay. The craft there is still being loaded, and he exhales in relief when he sees Evelyn hefting containers onto a loading cart.

Evelyn, he calls.

She looks up in surprise. Reverend, she says.
 

You didn't tell me you were leaving, he says. I would have liked to have known. I thought we'd become friends. Was I wrong?

Evelyn takes the man's hands. Of course not, Reverend. I need all the friends I can find right now.
 

Catrine comes clattering down the loading ramp.
 

Reverend Purvis, she says. You've come to see us off.

Indeed, he says. Do you know where you're off to?

Yes, Evelyn says.

But we can't really talk about it, Catrine adds.
 

Of course, Purvis says. But, Evelyn -- have you found what we discussed?
 

Catrine says, We have.
 

Purvis looks surprised.

Just because we fight doesn't mean we don't share everything, Evelyn explains.

Of course, Purvis says again. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to assume.

You know, Catrine says, lifting another container onto the cart. We're going to need some friends with reach very soon. Can we count you among them?
 

I'll do what I can, he says. And I don't want to keep you. I wanted to say goodbye.

Evelyn throws her arms around the reverend. We'll be in touch soon, she says.
 

Be careful, he advises.

•
 
•
 
•

When the loading doors close, Catrine and Evelyn are met by a stern woman with silvery hair.
 

You're our ridealongs, yes? the woman asks.
 

Catrine nods.
 

Sheila Untagarde, the woman says. Captain of this little raft. Don't need to know your names, don't need to know why you're here. If you've been on Io, then I figure it's safe to assume you've got a past, and one that probably burns a little bit.
 

Catrine opens her mouth, but the captain continues.

Long as that past doesn't come biting at my ass, Untagarde says, we're going to do just fine. If it does, then you make sure your bags are still packed, because I'll be dropping you at the first outpost we pass, and I might not even slow down first. Understood?

Evelyn looks stunned, but Catrine just nods.
 

Good, Untagarde says. Now, you see that fellow over there? Red trousers? That's Owen. He'll set you up.
 

With that, the captain walks off.
 

Nice to meet you, Catrine calls after her.
 

The captain raises a hand in acknowledgment without turning around.
 

Peaceable sort of woman, Evelyn says.
 

You don't say, Catrine says.
 

•
 
•
 
•

Owen turns out to be little more than a teenager, and by his reaction to seeing Catrine and Evelyn waiting for him, Catrine guesses that he probably hasn't seen many women in quite some time. He stows their containers for them, then takes their personal bags and jogs up a staircase.

As they follow, he starts to deliver his guided tour, but Catrine interrupts him.

No need, Owen, she says. But thank you. We'll probably just stay in our quarters mostly.

Of course, he says. That's fine. If you want meals, they're every twelve hours, starting at 0800. Anything in between you can handle for yourselves. You've got full access to the facilities while you're here, kitchen and showering pods and what-not.
 

He leads them through the ship, which seems smaller on the inside than it looked from outside, and stops in an empty corridor.
 

Well, here we go, he says. We only got the one space, though. I hope that's okay.

It's fine, Evelyn says.

The boy steps down on a wall panel, and the panel recedes, revealing a ladder.
 

Compartment's down there, he says. Want me to take your bags down?
 

We'll handle them, Catrine says. Thanks very much.

Evelyn smiles at the boy, and he blushes.
 

•
 
•
 
•

Once inside, Evelyn throws her bag on the bunk and turns to Catrine.

Figure it's bugged? she asks.

More than likely, Catrine answers.
 

Well, it's a lovely ship, and it even smells nice, Evelyn says, patronizingly.
 

Catrine laughs. Now we can talk about all the top secret stuff, she says.

Or we can fool around, Evelyn says. If it's the boy listening, it'll make his day.

Might wake up a slumbering beast inside the captain herself, Catrine says.
 

Evelyn chuckles. Okay, so for real, though. One bed?
 

One bed, Catrine says.

I don't like you much, but I wouldn't put you on that floor, Evelyn says. Looks like it hurts.

It's steel grate, so, yeah, probably. We can share.
 

I sleep nude, Evelyn says. Hope you don't mind.
 

I do, too, Catrine says. But I oil up first.
 

Well, I fart. All night long.
 

So we're mostly even, then.
 

Evelyn laughs. We're not supposed to get along, she says. Isn't now about the time we rip each other's head off?
 

I'm too tired, Catrine says. Maybe when we wake up.
 

Evelyn takes her bag off of the bed and drops it on the floor.
 

I don't really sleep nude, she says.

I know, Catrine says. I've been sharing a compartment with you awhile now.
 

I do fart sometimes, though.
 

Like I said, Catrine says. Been around you a little while now.

Evelyn grins. Alright. Let's get some sleep.
 

The journey to the middle of the system takes more time than Catrine would like, and enough time that she begins to settle into a routine aboard the cargo ship. After departing Io, the ship travels in the opposite direction. Cargo ships go where the jobs are.
 

It takes nearly three weeks just to leave Saturn and its moons, after a resupply stop on Titan and deliveries on Rhea and Dione. Then the ship turns around and aims for Jupiter again, with stops planned in Europa orbit and on Ganymede.

Catrine doesn't mind the long way around. She has never seen anything as haunting or as beautiful as Saturn and its rings.
 

In the mornings, she sips coffee in the viewing gallery, which is Untagarde's fancy name for the metal bench bolted down on level three. It sits close to a bay window that serves no real purpose on a ship like this one. Catrine sometimes brings a blanket along, and pulls it around her, and sits for hours.