Part 16

Quila and Terise

The house on the corner was pale yellow again. She knew faintly that there was a time when it had not been, when she had come back from somewhere – from school? – and it had changed, but now it was yellow and familiar again. The whole street was laid out before her, the set of the buildings and the lines of the roofs exactly as she remembered them from the upper window of her mother’s house. She tried to concentrate on them, but it was no good, they slipped away. She found herself in the street outside. Rain was falling from a heavy sky, drops bouncing on the stone beneath her feet. She stuck out her foot to catch them. Her sandals were white with red bows and she thought, I remember these. Her mother lifted her up to the door of a transport, Stelfia moved over to let her sit by the window. The transport started up and she pressed her nose against the glass.

The rain was falling so hard the street was like a great lake. At first the transport still skimmed over the surface, but as the flood got deeper, it rose closer and closer until they were pushing through the water, waves of grey rain, crowned in spray, pluming out on either side. They turned the corner past the yellow house into the square. That too was covered in water, water so deep it was halfway up the doorways of the houses.

Strings of lights were hung between the buildings and people in transports were floating along the lanes, laughing and calling into the windows as the lights danced their own reflected pattern beneath. She gazed out of the window, enraptured. She was just over a cycle old and it was the first time she had seen the great rain. It was so familiar yet so different, she had never known that the places she knew could change, could not be trusted.

She heard her own voice and she knew this was what she had said then so long ago, only the voice was hers now, adult. ‘It’s so pretty, so pretty. Why isn’t it always like this?’

Another voice, not her mother or Stelfia, not in the transport at all but in her head. ‘Ah, but it is. You wade through the water and pretend it isn’t here, but it doesn’t stop your feet getting wet.’

‘My shoes…’ Her sandals were covered in mud, caked and bedraggled in water and filth. If only she could find something to clean them, something to cover them up so that no one would know. If she could…

‘Does she know?’ something whispered, insinuating, into her ear. ‘Does she know?’

She could hear the answer, but she couldn’t understand it. The square and the transport disappeared and she was standing all alone somewhere in darkness. She repeated the words over and over to herself as if she should be able to make them make sense, but it felt as if they were slipping through her fingers and the harder she tried the more they escaped from her.

‘I ikatane issanteke kaedukele,’ hissed a third voice. It seemed much closer than the other two, low like a secret.

She whipped round to find it.

‘Oh no,’ sniggered someone. ‘Not your back.’

There was a bright light and a pain that ran right over her.

Then nothing.

***

Terise looked down to where the Ambassador lay crumpled on the ferns. The noise of the fighting seemed suddenly distant, quiet enough for her to hear the tick of her blaster as it cooled at her side. She should leave her there, she knew. If she was not already dead she was dying; what good was a dead Chi!me to her? There was no point in burdening herself with her, no point at all. As if one meeting was enough to make them comrades, it was stupid, sentimental. But you never left your wounded behind. It was the first lesson you learned. Terise slung her blaster back over her shoulder and hoisted the Ambassador into her arms.

The Chi!me were lighter built than Terrans, but she was still enough of a burden that it was difficult to run. Terise waddled towards the trees as fast as she could. Over on her right she saw Marius and his group sprinting for the cover. Something warm dribbled over her hands, webbing them over with sticky tendrils, attaching her to her burden as if the alien was growing into her flesh.

A little way into the wood she caught up with the others, waiting in a small clearing. Faces were averted; she couldn’t tell who was missing. Ladyani was standing on a fallen tree.

‘Terise, where the fuck have you been? I told you to get Marius and get out. Are you the last?’

‘As far as I could see. Sorry. I got held up.’

He raised an eyebrow.

‘So I see. You’ve found a pet?’ That earned a weary snigger from the others.

‘Yeah.’ She kept her tone light, matching his. ‘One Chi!me Ambassador, slightly soiled. No one else seemed to want her and I thought she might be useful.’ A breathless minute, while he considered the unconscious Ambassador. His eyes narrowed. ‘Could be, might be, probably won’t be…’ Abruptly losing interest, he concluded. ‘If you want her you can keep her. Just keep her out of the way. Alright, brothers, enough of the fucking mothers’ meeting. Let’s go.’

There was no time to rig up a litter until they camped. A couple of the lads went off into the trees to find some branches for her and Nico even offered to help her carry it tomorrow. She didn’t know that it would be needed. The wound in the Ambassador’s back just wouldn’t stop bleeding; every time she thought she’d got it she’d take the pad cautiously away and there it would be, another trail of thick purple like a snake leaving its skin. There seemed no reason why it would ever stop, slithering out until all that was left was husk. She kept on dabbing it away and the Ambassador moaned and moved and looked round at her with blank, frightened eyes.

After a while, the Jeban scouts reported that no one was following them and Ladyani cleared them to dig the heating cubes into fire pits. By evening, there were five fire points dotted over the clearing, a circle of guerrillas crouched around each. No one said much. Terise sat off to one side, nearest the fire where Marius was hunkered down with some of his group, but far enough away that it would not disturb them if the Ambassador died. Through the heated air she watched Ladyani against the far trees. The Jebans had also done some hunting so there was dinner, if sparse. When they finished, Darsin, Marius’ second, tried a song, but no one joined in and The True Road petered out after one reedy verse.

Marius threw his bones into the stones round the edge of the heating cube. ‘Well,’ he said, quietly enough that it wouldn’t carry, ‘that was a fuck-up and no mistake. Shall we talk about whose fault it was?’

Darsin exchanged glances with Itani across the fire.

‘Well, come on,’ Marius persisted. ‘What, we all just pretend like it was just one of those things, these things happen? For fuck’s sake, we could all have been killed. Some of us were.’

‘Yeah man, but it was the fucking Chi!me’s fault, wasn’t it?’ That was Itani, always the peacemaker. ‘What are we supposed to do?’

‘Was it, though?’

‘Wasn’t it?’

‘Who was it was dealing with the fucking Chi!me in the first place? Who was it told us, what was it, ‘we can’t lose, we’ll be in Airdrossa by Christmas?’ Who was it gave us the idea that this stupid-arse scheme was the answer to all our prayers, then let us walk right into it? Christ on the cross, and you think it’s the Chi!me’s fault? We were sitting up and begging for it, and you know it!’

His voice raised. On the other side of the clearing, Ladyani lifted his head.

‘Shut up man, keep it down!’ Darsin whispered urgently. ‘This isn’t the time, alright? Let’s talk about this when we get back, not now. Do you want the whole fucking government to hear you?’

‘I don’t fucking well care who hears me, it’s about time we had some debate around here,’ Marius proclaimed, more quietly. ‘You wait, I’m gonna tell that son of bitch exactly what…’

‘Yeah man, whatever you say, only keep it down, alright?

Chebo, can you hand me that flask? Have another drink, man, you look like you need it.’

Marius subsided, muttering. From over the heads of the cadre, Ladyani considered him.

***

She was lying down. Quila realized she had been aware of this for a while. She was lying on her side on something soft and scratchy; something that sent little prickles of itchiness all up her arm and leg. Her head was propped up by something harder, less yielding; her neck felt fixed enough that she could tell it would hurt to move it. She had the sense that it was not the only thing that might hurt, a great white nothing beneath her thoughts where her back should be, but for the moment she was safe, asleep. As long as she was asleep, she did not have to know, did not have to feel, she could stay asleep forever and she was so tired… She forced her eyes open.

Beside the bed was maybe a little more than her arm’s length of brown floor. On her left, at the head, was a small wooden table holding a cup and a couple of vials. There was nothing else save the wall.

She lay and looked at the wall. It was brown like the floor and as her eyes accustomed to the dimness it was clear that it was wood. A wall made of wooden planks, fixed together rather inexpertly so that all along its length there were chinks and spots of gold where the light outside crept in.

She couldn’t see clearly without moving her head, but it seemed more than likely that the floor was wooden, too. She sniffed and the air in her nose was musty, like rain allowed in to dry slowly. Cautiously, she lifted one hand from the covers and gasped at the sudden pain, worse than she could have imagined, that tore through her. There was a movement behind and someone came round the foot of the bed to her side.

It was a Jeba, a Jeba not as she had seen them before, wearing the uniform of some hotel and herding cases, but dressed in a medley of browns and greens that seemed to melt into the walls. It regarded her impassively. It came to her that she had to think of something to say.

‘Pleased to meet you,’ she croaked in a voice rusty from disuse. ‘I’m not in Airdrossa, am I?’

‘No.’ The Jeba pushed a beaker towards her. ‘You drink.’

‘Thank you.’ The water was strange-tasting but welcome. She gulped it down and handed the beaker back.

‘I’m Ar’Quila, I’m sure you know,’ she said over it. His face remained expressionless, she couldn’t tell if he did know or not. What did she know? She remembered a girl who was and was not Mara, a purple sea in a green field and shouting, crying… ‘What’s your name?’

‘They call me Ihanakan.’

‘And this place?’

‘To my people, it iss Iska kamele, you would ssay the place of the sstony river…’

‘The place of the…’

‘…You would alsso ssay, the place of the camp of ViaVera.’

‘ViaVera!’ Blaster fire, blossoming like flowers. Not this time. ‘How did I…?’ Unwisely, she tried to sit up and sank back onto the prickly bed, gasping. ‘What am doing here? What happened? I can’t remember anything. Please tell me what happened!’

The Jeba looked for a moment as if he was going to refuse, then it passed and only the faint air of apology remained.

‘I wass not there, you understand. I wass with the fighterss on their journey but I wass not there at the cairn field. It wass not proper, I think, for uss to be part of ssomething between them. Sso I waited at the place agreed and after the fighting wass over I ssaw Terisse come in carrying you.’

‘Terise! So she… she captured me? Is that what happened?’

‘She ssaid you were shot. She brought you back.’

‘Shot…yes, I remember…something…’ The blow in her back, Terise’s face as she slipped away into nothingness. The conviction burst in upon her and she said, excitedly, ‘She saved me. The government must have thought I was already dead; they would have left me. She saved me, she didn’t have to do it, she had every reason to leave me there but she saved me. Why did she do that?’

Ihanakan’s face was even more expressionless than before, his tone stiff.

‘I do not know. It iss not for me to ssay.’

‘No. No, I understand, of course not. It is not for you to say…’ Her voice sounded very far away suddenly, the room echoing as if someone had raised the roof and made it a dome. ‘I think I feel a little…’

‘You should eat ssomething. I will go and ssee.’

She tried to protest, keep him there, ‘No, I’m fine. I want to ask you…’ but she couldn’t make her voice obey her. The Jeba slipped silently round the bed and disappeared.

She lay still in the dimness of the room, watching the light between the slats making up the wall. There was a faint pattering noise, as if it was raining; in her mind’s eye she saw the drops bouncing, kicking up red earth where they landed allround the hut. She imagined bare feet splashing through them, soles covered in a thin sticky coating of mud that however hard you brushed would always leave a stain. Feet, unhurried, reaching the door.

A patch of light appeared briefly on the wall while it was open, then it was dark again. The feet moved slowly around the bed; there was a shuffle and clunk as something heavy was placed on the table beside her head. She thought perversely of pretending to be still unconscious, but that was cowardly, wrong. She opened her eyes.

‘Hello, Terise.’

Terise’s face seemed thinner than she remembered it, her hair scraped untidily back behind her ears with a strip of purple cloth. Her hands, brown and sinewy, carried on arranging the tray.

‘Hello yourself. Did Ihanakan fill you in?’

‘He told me a bit. Not much.’

‘That’s Ihanakan. But really there’s not much to tell.’

‘He said you got me out.’

‘Yeah. Well,’ she shrugged, ‘I was feeling generous. I brought you something to eat. I don’t suppose it’s what you’re used to, but you could do with something solid. You’ve been on nothing but slops since we got back.’

Quila obediently accepted a spoon and dug it into the bowl Terise held out to her. It was some sort of stew, earthy but not unpleasant.

‘How long have I been here?’

‘About a week.’

Quila choked, sprayed her second mouthful over the bed.

‘A week!’

A shot in the back’s not an easy thing to live with. We thought you were going to die.’

‘And I’m grateful I didn’t, but…’ She stopped, reeling. ‘Does anyone even know I’m here?’

Terise looked at her obliquely. ‘Eat your food,’ she said. ‘It’ll get cold.’

***

She came back every day or so after that. They kept clear of recent history, restricting their conversation to their homes, families and friends. Terise told her more about the village by the sea and Quila rejoined with the little rain festival on Chi!me, from the years before she went away. They only once strayed into politics, when Quila, following a train of thought, remembered a question unasked.

‘I was wondering about your leader?’

‘Issa?’ She’d wondered as she’d said it if she’d blundered, but Terise seemed relaxed enough. ‘What about her?’

‘When I saw her, I couldn’t help noticing… I mean, how she looks, she… she looks so like Mara. It’s uncanny, when she came into the pavilion, it could have been her. Is she…did Mara have a daughter?’

‘Mara?’ Terise snorted. ‘She didn’t have time for men, let alone babies. She never sat still for two minutes together, never stopped to look at what she could have had just by stretching out her hand. Everybody loved her and she didn’t love anyone… well, not like that, anyway. I’ve never thought Issa was anything like her.’

‘Really? To me she’s so alike she could be her. I used to have images of Mara when I was at school and Issa could have stepped out of them.’

‘And we don’t have any pictures at all.’

‘Well,’ Quila said rapidly, ‘you see Issa every day. That sort of resemblance is easier to spot when you don’t know people well. I’m sure it’s not really that pronounced, it’s been years since I’ve seen my images.’

‘She’s smaller, of course. We thought when she was young that she was going to be tall, but it never quite happened. Mara was taller than me.’

‘Well, that sort of thing you can’t tell from a picture. But she is related?’

‘Oh, yes. She’s the little sister.’

‘Really? I didn’t know… oh, yes, I do remember Desailly mentioned a sister. She was born after their father died, is that right?’

‘That’s it.’ Terise leaned back, reclined on one arm across the end of the bed. ‘Two weeks into Sept Karne’s death and a month early, my mother said. My mother liked Sept Karne, she said he was a real man.’

‘What happened to her afterwards?’

‘Well, she went into house arrest with Mara and their mother and when Mara bust out, she stayed there. I suppose Mara thought she’d be safer there than in the mountains. You wouldn’t really go carting your baby sister around when you go off to start a war.’

‘But she got her in the end.’

‘Yes.’ Terise sighed. ‘This was before my time, so I don’t know everything about it. As I’ve heard it, their mother killed herself in house arrest when Issa was five. Mara thought Issa might not be safe there, that without their mother they might kill her. They spent so much money on keeping them in that prison and what good was a little girl to them? Children die so easily. So they went in and got her.’

Running feet over the boom of blasters, air thick with dust from the new holes in the walls. Someone grabbing her, holding her, sobbing breath repeating ‘don’t worry, you’re safe, you’re safe’ in a tone that didn’t know it at all. Harsh light in her eyes, the gate that was always closed lying on its side on the lawn, more running, jolting, stopping. A stranger with long black hair. ‘It’s me, Issa. It’s me.’ Quila shook her head to send the image away, setting her vision spinning instead with the unaccustomed movement.

‘Ow. I must remember not to do that. Does she remember it?’

‘She says not.’

‘And she’s been here ever since?’

‘Ever since. Twenty-five years; it’s strange to think she’s older now than Mara ever got to be. I suppose we’re all used to thinking of her as a kid. Do you want anything more to eat?’ She held out the bowl, full this time with a rather unfortunate green stew. Quila pulled a polite face.

‘No, I couldn’t. Terise?’

‘Yes?’

‘Talking of rescues. I seem to remember the first time I came round I said Ihanakan told me you rescued me. I don’t think I said that I’m grateful, or even remembered to thank you.’

‘You don’t…’

‘I am grateful. I do thank you. And I haven’t forgotten my promise. I won’t be so stupid as to mention it in anyone else’s hearing. I just want you to know that when I said I would get you both out, I meant it, and once I get back to my people I will do it. I promise.’ She had to mean it now. Terise never had to know what she had planned to do.

Terise regarded her steadily. ‘I don’t doubt it and, for what it’s worth, thank you.’ She got up. ‘I have things to do. I expect Ihanakan will look in on you later. He’s being very attentive for him, you should be flattered, he doesn’t usually pay any attention to the wounded.’

‘I’m doubly honored then.’ She paused. Terise opened the door. A patch of grey light streamed damp over the threshold like the curtain in a Terran play, like the end of intermission. Outside, someone whistled, discordantly, as they tramped past. She asked, suddenly, ‘Did you see what happened? When I was shot, I mean? Did you see?’

Her face, silhouetted against the light, was blank. ‘No. I didn’t see anything,’ said Terise. She let the door bang shut behind her. Quila lay on her side as her footsteps splashed away.