Dawnwind 1: Last Man Standing Page 8
Uqqex frowned. “How did you know?”
Lewij shrugged. “I have friends in interesting places.”
“You’ve been monitoring my comms.”
“Not me. Certain parties that I used to work with. . . .”
“The Diplomatic Authority?” Uqqex frowned. “Why?”
She hunched forward, felt her pulse quicken. Old fears reared and ugly memories surfaced. The smell of smoke. Her mother’s screams. Flames licking the walls of the house. She clenched her hand, willing the memories, the swell of childhood panic to ebb.
“Are you all right?” Lewij was leaning forward again, concern etched into her face.
Uqqex took a breath and exhaled. “I’m fine. Why does the Diplomatic Authority care that I’m comming Epcott? He’s not political.”
“You might be surprised,” said Lewij. “But I’m not here as an operative. I’m here as a concerned friend. Your comms with Epcott . . .”
“What about them?”
“Keep them going,” said Lewij. “Please. Engage him. Draw him out of himself.”
“That’s a very Junian request, Miss Lewij.”
The other woman smiled. “Yes, I suppose it is. But the request is sincere. I am concerned about him.”
“I’ll comm him as long as I like and no longer.” Uqqex crossed her arms and glowered at Lewij. “I won’t be anyone’s tool.”
The small woman had nodded and stood. She drew the folds of her long, shimmering robe around her. “I know. And, believe it or not, Miss Uqqex, this request isn’t political. It’s personal.”
“Does that mean they’ll stop monitoring my comms?”
Lewij’s smile did not touch her eyes. “Would you care if they didn’t?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so,” said Lewij.
She folded her hands together, inside the voluminous sleeves of her robe, and bowed to the Zerraxi woman. It was a surprisingly formal gesture, one that Uqqex could not remember any other Junian performing.
“Thank you for listening.”
“Before you go,” said Uqqex. “Tell me something. Why is the Diplomatic Authority interested in Epcott?”
“He made them an offer a while ago,” said Lewij. “They didn’t take him up on it, because of other circumstances, but the fact he made the offer. . . .”
“They think they might be able to use Epcott, sometime in the future.”
Lewij smiled again. “You really are very quick,” she said, then bobbed her head and left.
* * * * *
The man from the private transport Uqqex had hired bore a startling resemblance to Imiro Lewij. He was short and heavyset with shoulder-length yellow hair. He wore a green warmsuit that covered him from his throat to his toes, and thick black gloves on his hands. His name was Ked.
Ked glanced at her, his dark eyes moving up and down Uqqex’s cloaked body. “So,” he finally said, “you’re the Lonely Heart’s woman.”
Uqqex’s nostrils flared. “The Lonely Heart? You mean John Epcott?”
Ked shrugged. “Folks ‘round here call him the Lonely Heart.” He waved her toward the transport, a silver teardrop-shaped vehicle parked beyond the landing tower. “Climb aboard. We can leave as soon as the tower clears us.”
Uqqex nodded and marched across the field, toward the transport. As she left the tower, she found herself walking through temperate air. A glance up revealed snow, sizzling away into steam several feet above her head.
“Thermal emitters,” explained Ked. “They keep the landing fields clear.”
“They must use a lot of power.”
He shrugged and they continued to the transport. Climbing through the hatch, Uqqex saw another man seated at the vehicle’s controls. He could have been Ked’s twin. The man turned his chair and nodded at her.
“Welcome aboard. I’m Teso, the pilot.”
“Oh?” Uqqex glanced behind her, where Ked was sealing the hatch.
“Ked’s my copilot,” explained Teso.
“And his engineer and technician and anything else he needs,” said Ked, scowling.
Teso laughed. “Grump.”
Ked snorted and took the copilot’s position.
Teso gave Uqqex a lingering look. “Well, I can’t fault the Lonely Heart’s taste.” He grinned at her. “You’re gorgeous.”
Uqqex raised an eyebrow, glanced from Ked to Teso. “You two aren’t together?”
“Sure,” said Ked. “Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy other people though.” He glanced sternly at Teso. “From time to time.”
Teso grinned at him. “Grump.”
“I’m not Epcott’s woman,” said Uqqex. “Just a friend.”
“He could use one,” said Ked. “Crazy alien. Living all alone out there on Nikosu Island.” He pursed his lips. “You know about the pool?”
“Ked!” Teso spoke sharply, his smile vanishing.
“What pool?”
“There’s a betting pool,” said Ked. “For when he’ll suicide.”
“Merciful pantheon, Ked!” Teso shot Uqqex a worried look. “I’m sorry, ma’am! He. . . .”
Uqqex sat and began to adjust the straps of her flight harness. “What are the odds?”
“Longer than they were when he got here.”
“And what happens if he doesn’t suicide?”
“Don’t know,” said Ked. “Don’t think that’s occurred to anyone.”
Uqqex smiled. “Whoever’s in charge of the pool had better give that some thought then.”
Teso blinked. “You aren’t upset?”
“Why should I be?” She finished with her straps and regarded the pilot with flat, black eyes. “I am surprised that Junians would place bets on something like that, but I suppose I shouldn’t be. There are deviants in every culture.”
Ked chuckled, but Teso looked uncomfortable. “Just so you know, ma’am, we haven’t made any bets.”
“Then you’re smarter than the others,” said Uqqex. She glanced out the window. “The storm looks like it’s getting worse. Do we have clearance to leave yet?”
Silently, Teso nodded. A few moments later, the transport hub was far behind them, lost in a frenzy of snow.
* * * * *
Nikosu Island lay beyond the northernmost tip of the Levtavujo Peninsula, one of several hundred islands in the polar archipelago. Teso flew the transport around the island three times before his controls indicated they had received clearance to land.
“He’s got privacy invoked?” asked Uqqex.
“Yes,” said Ked. “Even though he doesn’t need it.”
“Nobody comes out here,” explained Teso. “Too cold. Too barren.”
Uqqex peered at the storm-lashed island they were approaching. She could see a small personal landing field, more of a clearing, in the midst of thick forest. The field was brightly illuminated, making the rest of the island appear even darker.
“The nearest community is eighty minutes away by transport,” said Ked. “Like I said, he’s got to be crazy to live out here by himself.”
Uqqex shrugged. “He’s human.”
“What does that mean?” asked Ked.
She chuckled. “When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”
Ked snorted.
* * * * *
The transport touched down with a soft whump of displaced snow. While Teso and Ked ran through their post-flight checklist, Uqqex peered out at the field. The lights were dimming as she watched, but she could see a figure, bundled up in a bright pink warmsuit, slogging through thigh-high snow toward the transport. An air-sled drifted behind him.
“Lonely Heart’s here,” grunted Ked, after glancing at his controls. “Open the hatch, Teso.”
“You might want to bundle up, ma’am,” warned Teso.
Uqqex adjusted her travel cloak. “I’m ready.”
“Is that all you have?” The pilot’s concern was evident. “It’s freezing out there!”
“Zerrax is a cold world,” explained
Uqqex.
Teso frowned, but opened the hatch. Immediately, an icy breeze flowed into the transport. Ked swore.
“Lonelies!”
“Turn your suit’s heaters on, stupid,” said Teso.
Shutting down his control panel, Ked moved to the rear of the transport. He began to pull bundles from a storage bin.
“You’re resupplying him?”
Teso nodded. “He doesn’t ask for much.”
Ked began to toss the packages out of the hatch. Presumably, Epcott was outside, catching them and piling them on his air-sled. After a few moments, the cargo was unloaded and Epcott climbed into the transport. Ked immediately sealed the hatch.
Epcott’s pink warmsuit covered him from his neck down. A transparent bubble helmet was attached to the collar, affording Epcott a 360-degree view around himself. His dark hair was cropped close to his skull and he was clean-shaven. He had gained weight since Uqqex had last seen him, and his face had lost its haggard edge. He smiled at her.
“Hello, Uqqex. How was the trip?”
“Long,” she said, standing. “You look better. Living out here must agree with you.”
Epcott smiled. “You could say that.” He turned to Ked and Teso, nodded at them. “Thanks for bringing her, boys.”
Teso grinned. “We were coming anyway so it was no hardship.”
“All the same,” said Epcott. “I appreciate you playing taxi. Want to stay the night? There’s a bad storm coming down from the pole.”
“No thanks,” said Teso. “We’ll head back to Levtavujo.”
“As you wish,” said Epcott. “Thanks again.” He turned to Uqqex and gestured toward the hatch. “Shall we?”
* * * * *
When Uqqex stepped out of the transport, it was colder than she had expected. The wind slapped her in the face, ran chilly fingers through her hair. She shivered and felt her pulse quicken, as she walked with Epcott away from the transport. When they were beyond the range of the contragrav field, the craft rose into the air and vanished into the dark sky.
“If you need it,” said Epcott, “I’ve got a thermal cloak in the sled.”
“I’ll be fine,” said Uqqex. “Winters on Zerrax are colder than this.”
“Really?” Epcott glanced at her. “Tough people.”
She laughed. The cold wind carried her voice across the island. “You have no idea.”
“Some idea,” said Epcott, a slight smile flitting across his face.
He led her away from the field, into the dark. The night had returned with a vengeance, but Epcott’s warmsuit glowed, casting pink light across the snow. Nevertheless, Uqqex wished that she had brought a pressure-torch. Her people saw poorly in the dark.
Soon, they were walking through the forest. A path had been carefully staked out with lambent guide ropes and reflective tags attached to tree trunks. The trees were covered with thick, slate gray bark. An adaption to the cold environment, Uqqex guessed.
“What kinds of trees are these?”
“Knotlimbs,” said Epcott. He lifted an arm, pointed above them at the canopy. “See?”
Overhead, the branches had grown together into a tangle of limbs, forming a natural wooden canopy. She nodded, and they continued. After a few moments, they came to Epcott’s home. It nestled among the knotlimbs, a rectangular structure with a peaked roof. Uqqex examined it with interest.
“That’s not a Junian design.”
“No, it’s human. Or as close to human as I could get.”
The house was made of a dark material that Uqqex realized mirrored the coloration of the surrounding forest. She asked about it.
“Camouflage,” said the human. “There’s active nanoware on the external surface. Makes it harder to spot from the air.”
He reached for the door, which was also rectangular. Pulling it open, warm light spilt across the deep snow. They stepped inside, Epcott pulling the air-sled behind him.
Inside, the house was bright and warm. The floor resembled golden wood, but Uqqex suspected it was some sort of synthetic material. She could feel heat radiating from it through the soles of her boots. Beyond the entryway, was a combination daychamber/kitchen. A rectangular bar acted as a divider between the two spaces. The walls of the daychamber were set to a lustrous yellow, more metallic looking than wooden. Shelves had been extruded from them, and filled with all manner of items. Uqqex recognized Junian info-spheres, Archival memory cards, Zerraxi speaking-stones. There were even leather-bound books and a few scrolls.
The furnishings were Spartan. There was a huge couch in the dayroom, facing a section of wall Uqqex suspected Epcott used as a screen. A low wood and glass table was positioned before the couch. Two spindly-legged wooden stools were set up by the bar.
“Cozy,” Uqqex decided.
“I think so,” said Epcott. “May I hang your cloak?”
She slid out of it and saw his surprised expression as he saw what she was wearing beneath it; a sleeveless dress of grayish-purple, slit high up the thigh, and adorned with thousands of crystalline sequins.
“You weren’t cold in that?”
Uqqex laughed. “No, not really. Zerrax is a cold planet. I’m actually more comfortable in climates like this, than in the tropics.”
“Really?”
“I just spent a week at the equator and thought I was going to melt.”
“You were in Mitasi Dov, right? For the festival.”
Uqqex nodded. “I was invited to read some of my work at the local arts center. Have you been there?”
“Briefly,” said Epcott. “Too crowded for my taste. Come. I’ll show you your bedchamber.”
He led her through the daychamber, toward a dark corridor. As they approached, illuminators set into the corridor ceiling brightened, revealing several doors. He slid one open, exposing a blue-tiled wetchamber.
“The wastechamber is there,” he nodded at an identical door across from the wetchamber. “It’s got the standard features.”
Uqqex nodded and Epcott led her to the bedchamber. The floor was covered with thick, brownish carpet. There was a large rectangular bed, flanked on either side by small tables. Decorative illuminators, resembling frozen flames, stood on the tabletops. Epcott touched one and it flared to life, filling the room with golden light.
Uqqex tossed her travel bag against the wall and sat on the bed. She looked around the room. “Is this what a typical human bedchamber looked like?”
“No,” said Epcott. “This is what a typical human guest-room looked like.” He grinned. “If you want to see a typical human bedchamber, come with me.”
She followed him down the corridor to another door. Epcott opened this one with a little flourish. “Ta-da!”
Epcott’s bedchamber looked smaller than the guestroom. A spherical illuminator hung from the center of the ceiling, above a bed that Uqqex doubted would hold more than two people comfortably. The bed was covered by a piebald fur that she thought smelt artificial. Static images were depicted on the walls. Scenes from Epcott’s homeworld, she assumed. A tall, skeletal tower made of dark metal rising from a cityscape. A crumbling stone arena. There was an image of a mountainside with faces carved into it, and another of a huge bridge spanning blue water. She wondered at the significance of these places to Epcott. Were they cultural touchstones? Religious shrines?
In one corner of the room was a dark wooden table. On it were a mechanical timepiece and a PIN depicting a grid of squares. It took Uqqex a moment to decipher the grid as an alien calendar.
There was a shelf above the table, filled with more leather-bound books. Uqqex glanced at them, but their titles were incomprehensible to her. Written in human, she thought, and then wondered if they were artifacts from Epcott’s homeworld or copies, manufactured here on Juni?
She sat on the bed and inhaled. The room smelt strongly of Epcott, the cleansers and scents he used. Her hand stroked the bed covering. “Is this real fur?”
Epcott stood by the door, watching her. He shru
gged. “I don’t know. I got it in Ivta Vu.” He sat next to her. “What do you think of the place?”
“Tell me about the images.”
He rattled off their names. The Eiffel Tower. Mount Rushmore. The Golden Gate Bridge. The Coliseum at Rome.
“I saw the Golden Gate Bridge and Mount Rushmore, before the plague. But afterwards, the others might as well have been on the moon.”
“You only had one moon?”
“Just the one.”
“My world doesn’t have any moons,” said Uqqex. “Not in the traditional sense. Just the Rings.”
“I’ve read about those. Zerrax sounds impressive.”
“It’s beautiful and harsh.”
“How long has it been since you’ve been back?”
“Years,” she said. “Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever see it again.”
He gave her a curious look. “Can’t you go back?”
She shook her head, drew her lip back in a snarl of unconscious anger. “It would be too dangerous.”
Epcott didn’t press her, and for that, Uqqex was grateful. He stood. “You must be tired after your trip. Would you like to sleep?”
She considered it, thought about the dreams probably waiting in ambush for her once she closed her eyes. “I’d rather eat. And if you’ve got some jojora wine lying around the place, I wouldn’t refuse a glass or two.”
“I think I can find something.”
* * * * *
Morning came, its arrival heralded by the walls in Uqqex’s room slowly turning transparent. The shift in light roused her from her sleep, and she raised her head from the pillows to find herself peering into the knotlimb forest. The light being transmitted through the walls was grayish and dim.
Yawning, Uqqex tasted the jojora wine she and Epcott had shared last night. They had finished off an entire bottle of the potent stuff. Her head throbbed and she licked her lips. They felt dry and cracked.
Sliding into an embroidered dayrobe, she left the bedchamber. The corridor beyond was dimly lit, but she could see that the walls in the daychamber/kitchen were also transmitting images from outside the house. Epcott was up and seated on his couch. He had a PIN in his hand and several memory cards and info-spheres were scattered across the small table.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”