The Seeds of Time (16 page)

She followed him in. “Looks like you were packing.”

“No need to, now.” He began pulling sample packs and specimens out of a box. “I could have saved at least some of these. If it comes to evacuation, we’ve got to save what we can.”

“It doesn’t look like much.”

Hillis looked up at her with a half smile. “Doesn’t have to be much. Seeds, mostly. We take the whole plant if we can, to see how it fares, but what we really need to preserve are the seeds.”

“They got one of the spiders. To dissect.”

“What I’m really hoping for is to transplant a few saplings from the tube trees. But I’ve got the seeds in any case.”

“They might be intelligent.”

Hillis turned to face her, cocking his head. “The trees?”

Clio grinned. “No, the spiders.”

“Sorry. Guess I’m preoccupied.”

“Yeah, you’re preoccupied.”

“Pretty bad, huh?” He leaned against the lab table, arms folded. The harsh lantern light made his face gaunt.

Clio looked at him, started to talk, stopped. She had nothing to say to him. Teeg had assaulted her, was planning a mutiny, the camp just got its first native visitors. And she had nothing to say. She faced him, empty. She tried to call up the usual knot in her stomach, the rush of pleasure when she looked at him, the keen image of Hillis as the rebel, the cast-out, the ecowarrior. But now he seemed none of those things. Only tired, strung-out Hillis, leaning against his
boxes. They’d had all the conversations they would ever have, all the relationship they would ever have. Maybe all the relationship she ever wanted, for that matter. Pick the ones that don’t care, so you don’t have to care. Pick the ones that don’t listen, so you don’t have to tell them anything, don’t have to tell them how you feel.

Hillis, we could all die, here, on Niang, she wanted to say. Hillis, I could have loved you. Did love you in my own way. Why couldn’t you love me?

“Guess I’ll try to get some sleep,” she said. Turned to go.

“Clio.”

She turned back, weary.

“Clio. If something happens, make sure you protect yourself. Get yourself on that lander, no matter what. You’re the Dive pilot, you’re the one that’ll get us home.” He waved at the boxes. “Don’t worry about this stuff. It’s extra. I’ve already got samples stowed in the lander. They’ll be enough, if we have to leave in a hurry, which I hope to God we won’t.” He put his hands on her shoulder, tenderly. “Just be careful.”

“Right. That’s me, careful.”

Hillis’ eyes narrowed. “I’m counting on you, Clio.”

She nodded. No words left.

“Just get us home, baby.”

Posie came out of the med tent, pulling off his surgical gloves. “It’s a mammal,” he announced. The crew had been gathered there most of the morning, speculating on the carcass and what it meant for the mission.

“Probably arboreal. The legs are incredibly muscular, which accounts for the bounding movements we observed.”

“Hell, we didn’t see a thing, Doc. You were the only one that saw the invasion.” Estevan was sulking for not being allowed to watch the dissection.

“What does it eat?” Meng asked.

Posie sniffed. “It’s an herbivore.”

“Mother of God,” Estevan said, “then its some kind of monkey-like creature. You killed a bunch of monkeys.”

Scattered laughter at this. Posie whirled on Estevan. “This one charged me. They have to learn they can’t overrun the camp, breaking the perimeter defenses and stealing equipment. I had to kill it.”

Estevan glared at him. “Maybe this was their way of sending a welcoming gesture, man. Maybe we could have made a gesture to them, when we first knew they’d paid us a visit. If they wanted to kill us, they could have done it that first night, you know? Maybe they came openly across that field right at you because they figured you had great night vision and could see them coming, and when you didn’t shoot at first, they figured they were welcome.”

“Right,” Posie spat, “and maybe this one was trying to jump up and kiss me hello. If this is your anthropological contribution, maybe you’d better stick to making tacos.”

Estevan lunged forward, but Clio restrained him. Posie recoiled, backing up into the tent door.

Meng broke in cheerfully: “Well, the important thing is that the tarantulas are harmless. Maybe we can all relax a little now.”

“Monkeys,” Clio said, releasing her grip on Estevan.

Teeg and the scouting party were gathering in the center of the compound, and all eyes moved in that direction. Teeg had Shannon, Liu, and Zee decked out with armament. He carried the Dharhai and a backpack comm unit.

“Next thing we know, he’ll be calling in air strikes,” Clio muttered to Estevan.

Teeg’s party headed their way. Above the crisscrossed ammo straps on his chest, Zee’s face looked forlorn.

Meng piped up, “They’re monkeys, Commander. Herbivores.”

Hillis approached the group from the direction of botany tent, his face anxious. “Commander,” he said to Teeg, “I hope you won’t need Shannon now. That’s a pretty big scouting party, and the threat seems to be easing off. I need Shannon here. Sir.”

Shannon brightened at that, looking hopefully at Teeg.

Teeg sighed with elaborate patience. “I won’t be needing your advice, Lieutenant. But if I ever do, I’ll be sure to let you know. Crew, we are headed out. Glad to hear the … monkeys are harmless, so you can all get on with your work and keep your minds on your jobs.” He patted the comm unit on his back. “I’ll stay in touch with the major, here,” he said, indicating Posie. “Anything happens, he’ll call an alert, and I expect you all to fall into a defensive posture. Otherwise, expect us toward the end of the day.” He surveyed his three recruits. “We’re going to take us a little hike.”

“Just be careful,” Clio said. “We can’t afford to lose anybody.” She looked up at him with a hint of worry sketched on her face.

Teeg’s eyes snapped over at her. “We’re not going to lose anybody. We’re all in this together. From now on.”

The party headed out, ducking under the perimeter
wire, as Meng blanked it for an instant from the controls in med tent.

Hillis looked at Posie. “Did he say ‘major’?”

“Teeg will be colonel from now on.” Posie stared them all down. “Until the crisis passes.”

Hillis turned a stupefied look on Posie. “What crisis?”

Clio elbowed Hillis, glaring at him. Turning to Posie, she said, “I don’t think Hill understands what we’ve been going through, sir. He’s been holed up there in botany too long.”

Posie held her gaze, then nodded, disappearing back into med tent. Estevan stared at the ground.

Clio shrugged her shoulders. “I suggest we all get back to work. Like the colonel said.”

As the group dissipated, Estevan kept staring at his feet. “Mary, Mother of God. Mother of God.”

Clio hissed at him, “Snap out of it! Don’t you freep out on me, too. Listen up. It’s worse than you know. Teeg’s thinking of staying on Niang. He doesn’t want to go home.”

Estevan looked up at her, his eyes black and deep. “I’m ready to put his ass in stir, good and ready, you know? We don’t need to contact Russo, don’t need to get her permission, man. That won’t mean null to Teeg, long as he has the Dharhai. I say, let’s get Posie and have a little surprise for Teeg when he gets back.”

“That’s fine if we can catch Posie off guard, but the man is armed and jumpy as hell. If we expose ourselves and fail, then we don’t get another chance. And we don’t know where Shannon and Liu stand on this. If it’s Teeg, Posie, and Meng so far, against all the rest of us, then we might have a chance. Or else we need the Dharhai.” She locked her eyes onto Estevan’s. “That’d tip the balance.”

“Where does Hillis stand?” Estevan looked suspiciously at the botany tent.

“He’s with us. Whatever gets the mission back safely. That’s what he wants.”

“I’ll get the Dharhai. Leave it to me.” Estevan’s words came out slowly, stabbing the silence between them.

“Then tonight,” Clio said. “I’ll take care of Posie. You take on Teeg. After dinner. Soon as it’s dark.”

He started to move off, turned. “How far do we go?”

Clio had been asking herself that for days. “I don’t know. Do what you have to do. But remember, we have to answer for our actions when we get back to Vanda.”

“Vanda,” Estevan said. “That’s a long ways away, man.”

No kidding
.

Clio lay on her cot in the empty crew tent, hoping for sleep. She was desperately tired, but the nervous roll of her stomach kept her eyes wide open. They would have to face a hearing; it would be one story pitted against the next. She and Zee and Estevan and Hillis. Four against five. Four grunts against five others, including the senior officers. And she would be seen as the ringleader. She could go down this time. Go down real bad. Whoever was covering for her at Biotime, if it was the Biotime top brass themselves, could drop her. One mess too many, even if it is a Dive pilot.

Can’t have many more Dives left anyhow. Dump her
.

Depending on how big a mess Niang turned out to be. If someone got killed, for instance, there could be probes into crew’s background. Questions about Antoinette Speery-Hall, alias Clio Finn, alias that long-ago name that linked her with the underground, with the murdered DSDE agent, with Mom and Elsie. Clio allowed herself to fantasize that she would be sent to the same quarry. She would see them again. They might keep families together. Yes, they would keep her with Mom and Elsie. She would be home again. No need to run.

Home again.

Mother had planned everything down to the last detail. The window, the closet, the day pack. The escape
.

Every once in a while they’d have a drill. “Fire drill!” Mother would shout suddenly, in the middle of dinner as she passed the sweet potatoes; it could happen anytime. And
then she and Petya would dash upstairs to the room with the secret closet. “Come on, Elsie!” Petya would shout
.

Elsie would laugh and hold her ground. “I can’t fit through that window anyhow,” she’d say, snapping the black ten on the red jack, her solitaire hand played out before her, evidence of her power over games of chance
.

Petya usually won the race, and would be the first through the loose panel in the back of the walk-in closet, and into the closet on the other side, where an unused bedroom would never miss its closet, drywalled over and painted. And then through the window with the broken sash, the heavy window poised over their heads like a guillotine
.

It was all a game to Petya, and even to Clio, those drills played out in the stark North Dakota nights, when losing the race to the window meant you did the dishes by yourself for a couple of days. When, straddling the window-sill for a moment, and gazing into the thick black ether, you knew with certainty how flying is only a matter of believing, and for an instant you felt your arms tremble in readiness
.

But toward the last, the drills got more serious. Mother grew jittery, frowning at everything, and Elsie got quiet. Clio would work on her high-school themes at the kitchen table, with Elsie across from her, drinking coffee, smoking and advising. Mother would do the bills at the desk in the corner, swearing like a farmer, and Petya would be at his repairs. Clocks, lamps, hair driers, even cameras and microwaves
.

One evening she was writing on the assigned topic of “Why I’m Grateful for Church and Country.” Clio had trouble with writing themes: She was trying to say how she was thankful that in America, if you were caught speeding, they didn’t shoot you like in Guatemala
.

“What’s the speed limit in Guatemala?”

“Whatever the secret police are doing, plus ten,” Elsie answered
.

Mother frowned at Elsie’s sarcasm. She put down her ledger book. “What’s the subject of your theme?”

When Clio told her, Mother exchanged glances with
Elsie. Elsie raised an eyebrow, was all. Mother sighed, through her nose, like she was too weary to open her mouth
.

“Give me the damn notebook,” Elsie blurted out. She reached for Clio’s theme book, grinding her cigarette out with a vengeance. Clio leapt up to sharpen her pencil, handing it over to Elsie before the moment passed
.

Elsie looked her in the eye. “We’re gonna write you a humdinger.” For a long time Mom watched Elsie perform this act of cheating. There was no sound in the kitchen except the scratch of Elsie’s pencil and Petya’s quiet tinkering. Mother’s face was perfectly blank. Spooky in a way. She, of so many scruples. It was as if her conflicting emotions had just canceled each other out
.

Clio was in the living room with Petya, watching TV, when Mother went upstairs to bed. “Be sure to turn the lights out,” she said, though the only light was the pale strobing of the TV screen
.

That night, past one o’clock, Clio heard Elsie come up the stairs, so slowly the stairs seemed to last forever. Clio fell asleep before Elsie got to the top
.

The scouting party returned at dusk. Clio had just made another pass by the med tent, eyeing the comm unit and hoping for fifteen minutes alone with it, when she spied the group emerging from the forest edge.