To Have Met With Such Bodes Little Good
THE STORM MAY HAVE BEEN “run-of-the-mill” for Canis Lupus—to use Chava’s words—but Ichiko could see immediately that it had done a fair amount of damage in Dulcia, nonetheless. There was activity everywhere in the town, with people up on ladders and out on the streets repairing houses and stores, the quay littered with tackle, buoys, and nets tossed up from the bay, and a fishing boat deposited halfway up the flank of Dulcia Head with a massive hole in its side.
The sight of the damage was a contrast to the quiet natural tranquility in the wake of the storm. The clouds above were fluffy and sparse, reddish sunlight flooding in from just above the solas horizon, and the bay itself resembled a mirror with only the slightest swell, as if the sea itself was quietly and calmly meditating after the tumult.
Minister Plunkett met their flitter at the quay. The man seemed out of breath and exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes. “Ah, Ichiko. And is that Lieutenant Bishara with yeh? It’s good to meet yeh face-to-face again, even if Dulcia isn’t in perfect shape for yer visit, as I’d like. How did First Base fare up there in the mountains?”
“First Base is just fine,” Chava answered. “We lost a few antennae that we’ve already replaced or repaired. But our work in renovating First Base has paid off. It would take a much stronger storm than this one to seriously worry us at this point.”
Though Plunkett nodded, Ichiko saw a quick frown pass over the man’s red-flushed face at the underlying implication that Terran technology was far superior to that of the Lupusians. Ichiko grimaced at the tone-deaf lack of diplomacy in Chava’s remark and hurried into the conversation. “We know how resilient and tough your people are, Minister,” she said. “I wanted Lieutenant Bishara to witness how quickly and effectively Dulcia responds to adversity, so she can relay that in her report. Would you mind if we walked around and talked to some of the people here, so Lieutenant Bishara can hear from their own mouths how proud they are of what Clan Plunkett and the other clans are accomplishing here in the wake of this storm?”
The frown morphed into a careful, political smile. “Why, certainly,” Plunkett said. He swept his cap from his head and ran a hand through his sweat-darkened gray hair. “I’d go with yeh, but . . .”
“I completely understand, Minister,” Ichiko told him. “And I wish you could accompany us, but it’s more important that you’re here to supervise and manage repairs. We’ll make do without you.”
<I see your own diplomatic training has paid off,> her AMI commented.
Ichiko ignored that. “By the way, Minister, have you heard from the archipelago as to how they fared?”
The Minister’s smile faded as he tugged his cap back on. “Those Inishers don’t have enough infrastructure to worry about,” he said. “They probably huddled in caves on Great Inish during the storm. We have enough to worry about here without concerning ourselves with the problems of the archipelago.”
<Orbital visuals from Odysseus show the Great Inish clan compounds sustained fairly minimal damage,> AMI said. <I’ll send them to the flitter if you want to review them.>
<That’s not necessary,> Ichiko thought to AMI, then nodded to Plunkett. “I understand, Minister. I was just curious since I met Rí Mullin and his niece and nephew the last time I was here. I’m sure they’ve managed as well as they can. And since I know you’ve a lot of work to do here, the lieutenant and I won’t keep you. If you need anything from us, let me know and I’ll pass that on to Odysseus. We’d be happy to help and very likely have some supplies we can offer you.”
Plunkett grunted. “I appreciate that,” he said. “And we’ll let yeh know if we need anything. Lieutenant Bishara, I hope yeh enjoy yer visit, even if the town looks a bit like a blind cobbler’s thumb after this storm . . .”
“We’d be happy to help?” Chava asked Ichiko as they walked down the quay away from the minister. “Are you sure?”
“No,” Ichiko answered honestly. “But I’d think we’d want to help, if only for appearance’s sake.”
“Then if they ask for repair supplies from First Base, I’m expecting you to make a personal plea to the commander for me,” Chava said, “no matter what you have to promise him in order to get it. I’m sure you have some compelling inducements to offer.”
She grinned as she said it.
In the inside pocket of Saoirse’s oilcloth jacket was a letter her mam had handed her before they left. “If yeh happen to see that Terran yeh talked to, yeh can give her this letter to pass on to the captain of their ship. If not, give it to Minister Plunkett and he can do the same.” She’d smiled then. “And if yeh want to invite yer Terran to Great Inish, if she’ll come alone and in the Rí’s currach, then aye, yeh can bring her out here.”
Saoirse felt in her coat for the reassuring lump of the letter as they sailed out past the White Strand and into the open sea, with the mainland a humped gray-blue line on the horizon.
The arracht had been right about the bluefins, but then they were invariably right in matters of sea life and fishing. Their boat, and two others that the Rí had told to follow them (one from Clan Mullin and one from Clan Craig), were sitting low in the water from the weight of the fish they’d caught near the Stepstones. The Rí sent the other boats back to Great Inish, where the bluefins would be distributed among the clan families, the bulk of the catch to be salted and stored for later consumption. The Rí had Saoirse raise the sail; they tacked against the wind toward Dulcia, where the Pale Woman pointed to the entrance of the harbor from Dulcia Head. With a calm sea and little spray, Saoirse could keep her spectacles on.
This was Gráinne’s first trip where actual fishing was part of the experience. Saoirse needed to remind her more than once that getting slimy and dirty from handling the nets and the bluefins was to be expected, and that the briny smell of them was also an inevitable consequence. “But I’m sure that Uncle Angus will give yeh a few shillings once we sell the bluefins, and yeh can buy whatever yeh want with it. There’s a little candy shop up on the High Road, and Murphy’s Bakery has some delicious sweetbuns.”
Gráinne had managed a smile at that thought. Then Saoirse had her assist with the sail, demonstrating how they had to swing the boom to keep the wind, as otherwise Uncle Angus and Liam would have to row them across to Dulcia. “We want to keep their arms strong for when we need them.”
As usual, the wind died as they passed Dulcia Head and entered the protected bay. Saoirse noted Ichiko’s flitter parked down near Plunkett’s Pub but said nothing, though she was certain that Uncle Angus saw it as well. She showed Gráinne how to furl and lash the sail as Angus and Liam took to the oars to bring them in to the quay near Fitzpatrick’s. Saoirse jumped out of the currach as they reached the dock, helped Gráinne out, and the two wrapped the bowline around the nearest cleat.
Their arrival had been noticed, as Johnny came out from Fitzpatrick’s with his cart. “Didn’t expect to see yeh so soon after the storm, Rí. The bluefins still running?”
“They are and we have a fine, fat catch of ’em for yeh,” Angus told him. “How’d the town fare?”
Johnny shrugged. “We have several houses and stores damaged. Mam’s business took some water in from the bay at the height and we lost some product as a result, but nothing too awful. Yeh might have seen the wreckage of one of Clan Delaney’s motorboats over on Dulcia Head. From what I hear from the other clans, it’s about the same everywhere up and down the coast—lots of wind damage in the towns. How was it out on the archipelago?”
“It was true lashing out there, but nothing we couldn’t deal with or fix afterward,” the Rí answered. “But it’s all pure barry on the sea now. Like glass, ’tis.”
Johnny nodded. “Aye. All the Dulcia boats went out this morning toward the Usk Horn, hoping for a good catch.” He glanced into the boat. “They’re not likely to do as well as you’ve done. That’s a fine haul; I’ll have to bring out a second cart for them all.”
“Let’s get started, then. Saoirse, Gráinne, help Johnny. Liam, let’s start lightening the boat.”
They filled Johnny’s cart, then the second. Saoirse listened to Angus haggle with Doireann (“I still haven’t sold all the bluefins yeh brought in the other cycle, Angus, so I can’t possibly give yeh the same price . . .”) and settle on 8p per bluefin. It still came to a hefty pile of coins, and Angus gave a pound coin to Gráinne and two pounds to Saoirse. Angus looked significantly at the flitter sitting on the far end of the quay. “Why don’t you show Gráinne where she can spend her money if she wants? Liam and I will get the hardware and lumber that we’re needing. We’ll meet at Low Ninth at Murphy’s before we head back—the weather will stay clear enough. That gives you a few free bells.”
“Thanks, Uncle Angus,” Saoirse said with a nod. “Gráinne, let’s go look at a few of those shops I mentioned . . .”
Ichiko knew from her past experience in Dulcia that it was difficult not to draw attention from the locals. For two Terrans strolling through the town in their bio-shields and pale blue Odysseus uniforms, it was simply impossible.
They’d been walking the lanes through the town for a few ship-hours already, stopping occasionally to talk to people. They were followed by a shifting pack of chattering children, while the adults working on the repairs were willing to stop a few minutes and talk even though Ichiko was certain they were being extremely careful about what they said and, afterward, would stare at them until they were out of sight. Ichiko also noted that the young adults pressed into service by their elders were much the same as those on Earth: self-absorbed and pretending they didn’t care one way or the other about anything.
“My God, is that another pub?” Chava asked as they walked along High Street, the sounds of hammering and sawing loud around them. “How many places to drink does a town this small need? Though if I were living here, I’d probably drink more, too. In fact, I am living here at the moment and I do drink more, so forget what I just said. It all makes perfect sense. Honestly, I wish we could stop and have something.”
“You can have the beer and whiskey. Me, I’ve always loved seafood and here we are right by the sea,” Ichiko told her. “My dream is to someday find out what bluefin tastes like.”
“Well, neither the drinks nor the food seem to be killing off the . . .” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “. . . Lupusians,” she said with a heavy and obvious emphasis that caused Ichiko to grin. “So how dangerous can the food here be? We should just grab some food from one of these pubs, take it back to First Base, and try it. Deep-fried and battered bluefin with seaflower salad.” Chava laughed then. “Just kidding,” she said. “You should have seen your face. Hey, I’m not going to risk being stuck here forever. God, what an awful fate that would be.”
Ichiko smiled at that, but the effort was half-hearted. I don’t know—a simpler and quieter life doesn’t sound so bad . . . But then she thought of Saoirse and the way the Inish and Mainlanders regarded each other; she wasn’t so certain that life here was actually simple at all. They were passing the intersection with Green Street, a steeply inclined lane running between Strand Street by the quay and High Street. Ichiko glanced down toward the bay. She could see one of the Inish boats now docked near the fishmongers; she wondered if Saoirse were here.
<I’ve accessed the sensors on the flitter; that appears to be the same currach the Rí used before,> her AMI said, guessing at Ichiko’s interest by what she was looking at or through her thoughts. <Saoirse was with them. I thought you might like to know.>
I really need to get that contact fixed. Ichiko sighed, then nodded and pointed toward the intersection. “Let’s head down to the quay,” she said to Chava. “That’s the Rí’s boat down there now, so you might be able to meet some of the archipelago people.”
Chava shrugged, and they turned down Green, most of the cluster of kids following them. Green Street was dominated on the right side by the Bancroft clan compound and on the left by the Plunkett compound. They walked between high stone walls punctuated with heavy wooden gates shielding the compounds from easy sight, though Minister Plunkett had shown Ichiko his clan’s compound on her first visit. She assumed that other compounds were similar: a compact collection of houses and buildings designed for clan business and needs. Ichiko was fairly certain that the bio-shield stopped them from smelling the fruity odor of mashed hops, barley, and boiling wort that must be emanating from the Plunkett compound, though from behind the Bancroft walls they could hear the clacking of wooden machinery carding, gilling, combing, drafting, spinning, and twisting wool into fabric for their shop up on High Street. The Bancrofts, Minister Plunkett had told her, also had farms outside Dulcia where they raised sheepers for their wool.
Ichiko relayed some of this to Chava as they walked. “Minister Plunkett told me that his clan also has farms close by where they plant and harvest the grains for their brewery inside the compound, though they also buy from other local farms,” she said. “Supposedly, the smell isn’t horrible. He also took me by the Hearn compound, which is further out along the bay. They’re the local butchers and renderers. According to the Minister, the stench of that is why they made them build their compound out so far and where the prevailing winds don’t generally blow toward Dulcia.” Ichiko stopped. “Saoirse!” she called, waving to two figures who had just turned the corner on Strand.
The larger of the two figures waved back. “Musha! Ichiko, I was hoping yeh’d be around so we could talk.” They started walking up the street toward Ichiko and Chava. Ichiko could see that the person with Saoirse was a younger girl, dressed much as Saoirse though without glasses.
“Is this . . . ?” Chava asked, and Ichiko nodded.
“Yes. That’s Saoirse Mullin. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
They moved toward the Inishers. Saoirse had a smile on her face, and as they approached, they could see the Inishers’ clothing was stained—from handling bluefins, Ichiko presumed—as Saoirse’s clothes had been the last time they’d met. Ichiko also noticed that much of the face of the young girl with Saoirse was marred with patches of marbled green-and-purple plotch. She forced herself not to stare (wondering if Saoirse’s body might be similarly marked under her clothing). She knew that Chava must have also seen the blemishes, and certainly the children who still accompanied them had. She heard one of them loudly proclaim, “Ugh! Look, she has the filthy plotch! Quick, let’s go before we get it!” The group vanished as if afraid of contamination. The girl scowled at the pack, and Ichiko saw Saoirse’s hand tighten on the girl’s and give her a slight, warning head shake.
“Saoirse,” Ichiko said quickly, “this is my friend, Lieutenant Chava Bishara.” At that, Chava’s stare was torn away from the girl. Ichiko saw her gaze searching Saoirse’s face and arms for the same markings. “The lieutenant’s stationed at First Base and wanted to see Dulcia. Chava, this is Saoirse of Clan Mullin, the Banríon’s daughter.”
“Dia duit, Lieutenant,” Saoirse answered. “And this is my sister Gráinne—she’s just turned 240 this year.” <About 12,> Ichiko’s AMI translated for her. “Since it’s such a pleasant cycle, she wanted to come along with us to Dulcia, and Mam agreed.” Saoirse smiled and leaned conspiratorially toward Ichiko. “Rí Angus gave her a pound from the bluefins we sold to Fitzpatrick’s, and I told her I’d take her to the candy shop up on High Street. Would yeh like to come along?”
Ichiko looked at Chava, who shrugged. “Why not?” Ichiko answered.
As they started back up the street, Chava spoke a single word. “Plotch?”
Ichiko grimaced, but Saoirse only shrugged. “Nearly all the Inish have the plotch fungus on their skin. I do as well, just not where yeh can easily see the markings.”
Chava seemed to be listening to the air as well as Saoirse, and Ichiko knew her AMI was talking to her. “Does the fungus really come from touching those arracht creatures?”
“They’re not creatures—” Gráinne began, but Saoirse interrupted, and the girl fell silent.
“The arracht carry the fungus, too, aye, and we get it when they touch us, but beyond the plotch markings, it ain’t harmful. Just gives us a bit of interesting extra color to our skin—though lots of the Mainlanders, like those kids, avoid us because they’re afraid they’ll get it, too. They can’t, of course. Not anymore.”
“Not anymore?” Ichiko asked.
Saoirse shook her head. “Not since we stopped the Mainlanders from hunting the arracht, five thousand years or so ago.” <More than two and half centuries . . . > “Before then, some of ’em had the plotch, too, from handling arracht carcasses. The plotch is no big deal, though. It’s not important a’tall.”
They’d reached the top of the street, and Ichiko could see the stares from those who were out once again, redoubled this time by the addition of the Inishers to their group. Saoirse, who seemed to be working hard pretending to ignore the attention they were getting, pointed left. “The Stuart’s candy shop is just up there. Can yeh see the sign, Gráinne?”
“I don’t need glasses, Saoirse,” Gráinne answered with a haughty emphasis. “I can see just fine.”
Saoirse laughed at that. “When I was yer age, I didn’t need glasses, either, so be careful what yeh brag about. But why don’t yeh go on and run ahead, since yeh know where yer going. Just be careful if they’re working there, fixing storm damage, and don’t bother ’em.” She released Gráinne’s hand and the girl took off running down the street, people moving aside to let her pass. The three adults followed more slowly.
“I have something for yeh, Ichiko,” Saoirse said. “My mam asked me to give yeh this.” She took a packet of folded paper from her pocket and gave it to Ichiko. Ichiko held it, though her bio-shield prevented her from actually feeling the paper. It was sealed with wax with a simple handwritten address to “Captain Keshmiri, Odysseus.”
Ichiko realized that it must be a reply to the communique that Luciano had mentioned the captain sending to the Banríon. She tucked the letter into one of her belt pouches. <Remind me that this has to be put in a sealed container before I can take it into First Base and send it up,> she thought to AMI.
<I won’t have to. The lieutenant will do it for me.>
Ichiko saw Chava watching the exchange. <I’m sure you’re right.>
“I also talked to me mam about yeh wanting to come out to Great Inish,” Saoirse was saying to Ichiko. “She said if yer willing to come out to the archipelago in a currach and not yer flitter, yeh’d be welcome. Yeh could stay in our compound, and I could show yeh around. If yeh’d like that.”
“I would very much like that,” Ichiko answered quickly. “It sounds like a wonderful opportunity. But I can’t take it. Not at the moment.”
Saoirse glanced at Chava. “Can’t the lieutenant take the flitter back to First Base?”
“She can. But that’s not the reason.”
“Ah,” Saoirse responded, her voice laden with obvious disappointment. “Does it have to do with the letter Mam got from yer captain?”
“I’ll be delivering it to the captain,” Ichiko told her. “But I also have business I need to take care of back on Odysseus. But I hope I can come back soon. Thank the Banríon for her offer, and hopefully I can take her up on it when I’m back downworld.”