And the tiny, insignificant shape of the shuttle moving from Nadim off into the distance, heading for another ship farther out.
I stepped forward to rest my hands against the transparent skin, staring. Nadim still felt warm and silky, but I was looking out at the cold vastness of the universe. It almost felt like I was moving outside, drifting into the beauty. It was wrong to feel both small and home at the same time, but it felt like I was meant to be here. I'd never felt that way before. I'd always been restless, looking for something I couldn't find.
Here it was. A strange kind of home.
"I think Beatriz needs you," Nadim said apologetically, and I jolted back into my body, stepped away, and the window disappeared. He was right. Beatriz had collapsed into a chair with her hands covering her face, not quite crying, but close.
I claimed the chair beside her and touched her shoulder. She flinched. "Hey," I said. "You all right?"
"I'm fine," she said, very faintly. "I'm sorry. It's just--"
"Strange? Check to that. They dragged me out of rehab for this." I leaned forward. "Tell me what you need right now."
She gave a hitching little laugh and dropped her hands to her lap. "Home?"
I didn't know what home meant to her. A place? People? A view? I couldn't help with any of that. Maybe a distraction would work. "So you're giving up. That fast."
She looked up at me--confused for a second, and then heat building behind those eyes. "No."
"Then quit hiding in a corner. We're in space. You knew this was coming."
"Knowing something isn't the same as experiencing it!"
"Serious question," I said. "Because if we're going to be depending on each other, I need to know: you going to freak out on me when I need you?"
Her lips parted. She formed an answer, then swallowed it. Then stood up. A little wobbly, but she steadied it. "It was just a surprise," she said. "I'm fine. Nadim? I'm fine. You can--open the window."
He did. I loved the view. I knew Beatriz still hated it, but she stared out like she was facing down a wild animal. Back straight. Okay, then.
"Why do you think the Leviathan saved those astronauts back in the day?" I asked.
She lifted a startled gaze to mine. "You mean, the ones aboard the ISS?"
"Yeah. Seems weird, that timing. Humanity was about to destroy itself, right? And then there's this space disaster tailor-made for miraculous intervention, and heroes right there, ready to zoom in and save everybody."
Beatriz stared at me with a focus she hadn't had before. And a little indignant lift to her chin. "Are you implying there was some kind of conspiracy? That the Leviathan had something to do with the ISS accident?"
I shrugged. "It's a well-oiled con back where I'm from. Make somebody sick, then sell them the medicine they need to get well."
"You're not a Space Truther, are you?"
"Well, some of them have good points." I was playing. I didn't believe any of what Space Truthers spewed, but this was doing good things for her mood. Distractions worked.
"The Leviathan had nothing to do with the mess we made of Earth!" Beatriz sounded completely sure about it. "We got ourselves into it, haven't you read the histories? How we just ignored all our problems until they were too big to be fixed?"
I did remember. How fools in power argued against scientific fact and brought in phony experts to keep doing nothing. I blamed them for it too. But I needed to keep her stirred up, more anger, less fear. It was a kind of emotional-energy exchange.
"Maybe. But sure seems like they caught us right when we couldn't afford to ask any hard questions, you know?" I grinned at her. "Anyway, I'm Zara, straight out of the Lower Eight in New Detroit. We saw each other at orientation, but I figured I'd make it official."
She seemed torn between continuing the argument and being polite. Civility won. "Beatriz Teixeira," she said. "Rio. Although I also lived in Sao Paulo for a while."
"At least you're not looking like you might pass out anymore, either. See? Arguing is good for you. Let me make some coffee."
She gave me a reluctant smile. "I'll do it. I have a recipe."
Beatriz had a flair for mixing it with steamed milk and cinnamon, and that was heavenly. We sat at the round white table and drank, and she looked like a different girl. Relaxed, she had an open sweetness about her. We talked about Rio, a place that existed only in stories for me, but was real enough to her, with all its shops and busy streets and white sandy beaches.
When we finished our drinks, and she seemed okay, I said, "So, we're going to take a short cruise in the shallow end, right?"
I don't know how he knew I was talking to him, but Nadim answered. "Within this system. Where would you like to go?"
Beatriz appeared to be at a loss; that left it to me to decide. Nobody had ever asked me to pick a destination before, let alone on this scale. It felt like he'd just offered me the Sol system on a silver platter. I gave the first answer that popped into my head.
"Mars. I'd like to see Mars."
I'd never walked in the domed city where my mother and sister lived, but I'd studied up on it. Now I could admire the view from orbit, where everything was red magic, mountains and valleys blurred into shadows and squiggles. It would be good to see it and imagine my mom and Kiz, going about their lives there. Some of the old pain had softened into a bittersweet sting. Mostly, I was glad I'd managed to leave them smiling this time.
Everything shifted as energy rippled through us, and Beatriz let out a surprised cry and grabbed at the table edge. I pictured a dolphin leaping in the sea, a kind of joyful burst of unleashed motion. I'd expected there would be more ceremony, like I'd have to be at the helm or input coordinates, but for a Leviathan, this jaunt was probably like a trip down the block to buy steamed pork buns.
Beatriz nearly fell over as the forward motion increased, so maybe we should've been strapped in. His exuberance clearly scared her.
I went back to Nadim's skin and reached out. He must have known exactly what I wanted, because this time, he didn't just open a window, he gave me a huge expanse of transparency. The first glimpse stole my breath. Earth retreated beneath us, along with the last sliver of blue sky. The darkness bloomed with stars. We sling-shotted around the moon, enormous on our left as it whirled past. Then he dove deeper, so that the patch of galaxy in the distance swirled in smoky, sparking colors.
"Can--can you slow down, please?" Beatriz asked. She sounded shaken. I turned away, and the transparency closed. She'd gotten up from the table, but she looked sick again. "I'm sorry. I'm trying."
She was. I couldn't bust her for having vertigo problems. Hopefully, she'd learn to kick them. "Maybe you should lie down awhile?"
Nadim didn't speak to us, but glowing pulses shot across one wall, and following the lights led us back to our quarters. We had separate rooms, though they were next door to each other. The furniture had been built into the walls, probably to keep things from shifting during transit. Beatriz fell onto her bunk and closed her eyes with a soft whimper. "I'll be all right," she said. "I trained for this, I swear I did. I just need . . . I need rest."
I left her and went back to watch our progress. I was still fascinated with the view. It didn't seem possible that he could travel so fast, but in the time it had taken me to get her settled, I could already see Mars as a small orange orb, growing as we raced closer. He slowed as the red planet deepened before us, and without meaning to, I pressed my palms to the port-skin.
Mom and Kiz are probably there by now. Maybe just getting off their own shuttle. Thinking about me. Sometimes I'd wondered how it must feel, just seeing a milky dome above them when they looked up, no stars or sky. The whole universe lay before me, and part of me wished I could share this breathtaking vision with them.
It occurred to me that I missed them. Really missed them. I'd been holding that back a long time, pretending that I didn't need them, didn't need anybody. But up here, it was safe to admit I still loved them.
"This m
ade you sad," Nadim said. "I didn't expect that. I'm sorry. Why do you feel that way?"
My head jerked up. Right, I'm not alone here. But . . . "How do you know?"
"I can . . . see is not the right word. Neither is feel. It's somewhere in between?"
I tried to imagine what the bacteria in my system might be feeling and failed utterly. In orientation, they'd warned us off of feeling his emotions; I wasn't sure they'd ever even mentioned him picking up on ours. I wasn't sure how I felt about this development. Cautiously I ran my hand down the wall, and a jolt of . . . something tingled through my fingers. I quickly pulled back. "What was that?"
After a pause, Nadim said, "I'm not sure," and he sounded surprised too.
I tried it again. Same tingle. It wasn't like I'd got an electric shock; rather, it felt sort of good, like positive feedback. It faded. When I tried again, nothing.
"Do you want to stay here awhile?" he asked me. "It is a lovely planet. I can remain in orbit if you wish."
"I guess," I said. "What's all this like for you? Is it strange, having us with you?"
A pause. "Nobody's asked that before," he said.
"Really? Out of how many . . . uh, Honors?"
"I've partnered with twenty different sets," he said.
"So forty people, and nobody's ever asked how you feel about it until now?"
"No."
That struck me as weirdly human-centric. Hadn't they thought of him as . . . real? Having his own feelings and life? Not even Marko? Way to be ambassadors, people.
"You shouldn't feel sorry for me," Nadim said. "I'm very used to human behavior."
He'd read me, again. Effortlessly. I was used to being a closed book, and now I felt . . . open. That worried me and brought up the old fears. I didn't like being vulnerable. "Okay, now, hang on," I said. "How are you reading my mind?"
"I'm not," he said, and sounded startled about it. "I wouldn't. But you . . . you feel like colors, and the colors are made of emotions. You were purple, but you're brightening to red now. And that feels . . . warm. Like the taste of a star."
"I . . . what?" My stomach lurched in the most unexpected way, not seasick, but that pleasurable shiver rolled over me in waves again. People didn't just say things like that, certainly not about me. "Okay. Sure."
"Did I explain it badly?" He seemed concerned.
"No, it's fine. Just--it's pretty personal. They told us back on Earth we might feel stuff on board, but--"
"You already do, don't you? Don't I have texture?"
Belatedly I realized I was still resting my hand against the wall. I wondered if all new Honors felt this strange when they first came aboard. I wondered if that was what had so badly damaged Valenzuela, not slamming this door and locking it up. I stepped back and fixed my eyes on Mars again. "That's not what I'm talking about. There's feeling with my fingertips and . . . feeling with feelings." That sounded complicated, but I couldn't phrase it better. "Look, are you sure you can't read my mind?"
"Not read it, no. I've never had that deep a relationship with any of my Honors. I can see moods, but it's rare that I connect any more deeply. Of course, I'm still learning."
"You're in training too?"
"Yes. But I'm near the end. Soon, I'll be ready for the Journey."
"Yeah, I got some questions about that--"
"Perhaps later. Beatriz isn't feeling well. You should probably check on her. It might help if she had something to eat." I had the unmistakable sense he was trying to ditch my question. Nice try, but I didn't get distracted that easy.
"Yeah, well, I'm not the chef on this cruise. She'll have to get it herself." I meant it, but then I reconsidered enough to ask, "Is she sick? For real?"
His lovely voice radiated regret. "Just disoriented. This happens sometimes. I hope she can adjust to me. Not everyone can." He sounded . . . a little wounded.
Until this moment it never occurred to me that we could hurt the feelings of a ship, even if it was intelligent. This was all so new. So odd. And once again, I remembered Valenzuela. Maybe he couldn't deal with all this . . . sharing. Felt weird to me too.
I didn't want to admit it also felt . . . good.
"Did Marko and Chao-Xing have trouble adapting?" I asked, and headed for the kitchen. He was right. Food probably was an ace idea.
He didn't answer the question, and I decided not to try it again. Could he get mad? I wasn't sure I wanted to find out, not this fast. I pulled out drawers and examined the neatly ranked packages. Apparently, they were specially branded to us--I spotted some things in the drawers marked with my name that made my stomach growl. I chose a meat-pie pack and read the instructions on the back. It only took a half a minute to warm it in the reheater.
Oh, hell. Maybe I ought to take the girl something after all.
Beatriz's drawer had a lot of dishes--some I recognized and a lot that I didn't. "Feijoada," I mumbled. Sounded tasty. I took it out, cracked it open, heated it up, and then stacked it on top of my meal. After grabbing two packaged waters, I went to Bea's quarters. Nadim had to give me a helping pulse of direction along the way, but I didn't mind. Already I was warming to the idea that no matter where I went on board, he'd always be there if I needed help. That was . . . comforting. It shouldn't have been. I should have been freaked out, trapped, wanting my freedom. Being on this ship was the opposite of alone.
But it also felt good for someone to be looking out for me for a change. When I'd been out there in the Zone with Derry, I'd spent so much of the time watching for the danger signs with him . . . keeping him away from the chems, helping him through it when I failed. Now that I thought about it, that hadn't been much like freedom at all. In the rear view, it was starting to look a lot like being manipulated.
Maybe it had been easier to focus on Derry's needs than try to sort out my own shit. I shouldn't make that mistake up here, but I couldn't be rude, either. Which reminded me of things I was used to doing back on the ground as regular politeness. My crash course on Earth had told me that Leviathan didn't have gender, which made Nadim nonbinary, though his voice sounded male. So I said, "I'm wondering how I should refer to you. Pronoun-wise."
"He is fine, since that is how I register to you. I have no preference. But I appreciate you for asking." The warmth of his tone made me glad I'd taken the time.
"Don't tell me, this is another first?"
"No, others have asked, probably because it's covered in orientation."
He seemed in a good-enough mood, so I risked it. "You never answered me, by the way. Is there some reason you don't want to talk about Marko and Chao-Xing?"
"I was trying to decide whether or not my answer would violate their privacy, but after consideration, I think I may address the question in general terms. Marko missed his family regularly--more at first, when we left, of course. But he liked to talk to me, and that seemed to help, and he often sent back messages home. Chao-Xing did not miss anyone particularly, and I suppose in many ways she adapted very well to being in partnership with a Leviathan. She loved the exploration, but in terms of emotional adjustment . . . she never warmed to me. In her eyes, I always remained a vessel. Not a friend. Separate."
"That's messed up." I paused in the hall and patted the first organic part of him I could reach, and it happened again: warmth pulsed down my palm and into my wrist. Leaving my hand in place while balancing trays and boxes of water with the other, I sensed something deep in my bones, almost like a purr radiating from Nadim's depths. It could be his pulse or a subharmonic communication I couldn't quite understand. It made me want to keep touching him.
Especially when he said, "I'm very glad you're here, Zara."
***PRIVILEGED COMMUNICATION EYES OF WHSC TOP LEVEL ONLY DNA ENCODED***
Elder Typhon greets you, Earth people of the WHSC. In response to the standard inquiry, two hundred and seventy-one individuals of Earth who have been sent on the Journey have not returned within communication range, but the greetings of their families have been sent out i
n hopes that they will be received. I am aware, through the songs of my people, of the natural death of seventeen human crew members, which is in keeping with the lifespan of your species. Their bodies have been committed to the stars, as is our custom. The names of those so honored are at the end of this message.
The remaining humans engaged in the Journey continue, as do the Leviathan to whom they are matched.
We thank you for the gift of these new Honors, whom we will watch and test upon this year's small voyage. We will train them in our technology, and they will teach us the way your species approaches science and the solving of problems, as well as the history and culture of the people of Earth, which we honor and value as well. The discoveries that result from our joint experiments benefit both our species. We will continue the research requested by your scientists, as has been agreed.
This covers the specific questions we have agreed to answer for this Honors cycle. Any others must be submitted for the next year.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Breaking Up
AFTER THE FOOD, Beatriz felt comfortable enough to start exploring; Nadim gave us a walk-through of places that were accessible to us--a tiny fraction of his actual size, I realized. But still huge for two people.
We'd already toured the highlights with Marko, including the library--almost a hundred shelves of real paper books and a vast collection of e-media, new and old. There was even a theater next to it, with a stage and an area where media could be beamed.
But as we opened room after room--many of them self-sustaining experiments and lab facilities--we finally stepped into mystery.
It made no sense to me when I walked into that vast space. It was the last thing I expected to find--a glittering sea, lit from below in slow, rolling pulses of iridescent light.
"I--" My voice failed, and I looked at Bea. "What the hell is this?" The room was dark, warm, and humid. "Please tell me it's not your stomach."
"I don't eat food," Nadim reminded me. "I eat starlight."
"Then tell us it isn't your bladder," Bea said, which made me nearly choke on a laugh.
"I understand what you mean, but it doesn't apply."
"Then back to my original question," I said. "What the hell is this place?"
Nadim seemed amused. "Zhang Chao-Xing was an Olympic athlete, did you know that?"