Part 17 (2/2)

Tussig sat in a cus.h.i.+oned chair beside a woman who toyed with a palm reader intently for several minutes. A tall window gave a view across the shuttle field. The mushroom-shaped vehicles lifted on shafts of s.h.i.+mmering agrav beams, displaced air returning to give a clap of thunder, awed and frightened.

”Inside,” ” the woman said. ”They say you can't hear a thing.”

Tussig blinked at her. ”That's good.”

She smiled. ”Where are you going?”

Tussig pulled the disk from his pocket and looked at the label. ”Diphda.”

”Hmm. Never been there myself. Why are you going there?”

Tussig thought about the question for a long time before he answered.

”Balance.”

MORE TO GLORY.

Patrice Sarath

The night Jenn came home was just like any other: I was holed up in my bedroom, trying to ignore my parents fighting. I was looking at a book, but I wasn't reading it; I just stared at the picture of the sailing s.h.i.+p on the flat blue screen. Its broad cloth sails billowed with the winds of the Glory Sea, the rigging creaking and the hull slapping rhythmically on the waves.

For a moment second pop's voice rose above everyone else's. I heard, ”I know he's just a boy! He needs to face up to facts, that's all!” I turned up the volume on my book. I didn't want to hear what second pop had to say about me.

Tapping at the window caught my attention and I looked up, frowning, unable to see through the wavery plastiglas into the night air. I slid off my bed and went over to it, putting my face close to the surface.

Two bug eyed faces came into view, alarmingly magnified. I started back.

”s.h.i.+t!”

Giggling came from the bugs. It was the twins, Dallas and Austin. Heart still hammering, disgusted that I was taken by surprise, I grabbed my respirator, glanced to make sure my door was cycled shut, and slid open the window.

”What are you two idiots doing here?” I whispered. ”If my parents find out-”

”Guess who's back in town?”

I looked at them with narrowed eyes, determined to wait them out. Dallas gave in first.

”Jenn,'' he said. ”She just got in.”

This time I thought my heart stopped for good. Jenn. My best friend Jenn. s.h.i.+p's apprentice Jenn. Her parents bought her a spot on a s.p.a.ce cruiser and she s.h.i.+pped out six months ago, just after she turned twelve.

”Where?” I breathed and they nodded at the ground below. A white blur waved up at me.

”I'll be right down.” I closed the window, tore off my respirator and got into my jeans, s.h.i.+rt and jacket, sealing all the openings meticulously, swearing at the long process that usually only took seconds. My fingers were clumsy and it took forever. I bolted out the door, flung myself back to pick up my respirator, and tore out to the door again.

The fight was still going on in the kitchen. It sounded like all three of them were in there, their voices rising and falling, first and second ma's higher pitched than second pop's but no less angry. As far as I could tell it was the same argument. I tiptoed toward the front door.

”Randy?”

Oh no. I skidded to a stop just before the front door, heart sinking. Tickham. I turned around. He stood in the low light of the hall, looking pale and thin.

”Go back to bed, Tick,” I ordered. I gave my meanest glare. ”Or I'll tell first mama that you got out of bed.”

Tick just glared back. For a little kid, he could be pretty stubborn. ”Where are you going?”

”None of your business, tick t.u.r.d,” I said. ”Go away or I'll tell mama.”

”I want to come too,” he said, and he thrust his lower lip out.

I groaned. Stupid little tick t.u.r.d brother. ”No, Tick. Go away.” I pushed the door open, thinking that would make him run, and was bowled backward by Austin, Dallas, and Jenn.

I forgot Tick when I saw her. She was in her white apprentice uniform, her dark hair and dark skin glowing. She grinned shyly when she caught my eye. Jenn was never shy and I frowned at this new side of her. Then, as if she knew, she reached out and gave me a hug.

”Man, Randy! It is so good to see you! I missed all you guys.”

My heart, which had leaped at the thought that she meant me alone, sunk at the ”you guys,” but the b.u.t.terflies in my stomach were still rolling in a pretty interesting way. So I held onto her hug. As usual Tick ruined things. He hadn't run from the open door like he was supposed to.

”Jenn?” he said, his eyes wide. Jenn broke away from me, and knelt down to Tick.

”Hey, little Tick,” she said kindly, and held out her arms. Tick broke and ran to her, burying his face in her s.h.i.+ning uniform. Mindful of Tick's respirator less state, Austin hit the door b.u.t.ton and the door closed. The ventilators cycled the air clear but by the time Tick had lifted his head from Jenn's shoulder, a small smear of blood stained her uniform.

Tick, you have to go to bed now,” I ordered in as loud a whisper as I dared. They would come out of the kitchen any minute, see what was up.

”No! I want to see Jenn!”

”Shhhh!” We chorused.

For a moment we were all quiet. Then, ”Randy? Tick?” Firs'ma, her voice weak and tired, called from the kitchen.

The twins dissolved into silent giggles. I glared at them and called out, ”It's okay, ma. Tick was sleepwalking again. I'll get him back to bed.”

Tick gave a glare to equal my own. ”I was n-”

”Shh! Look, if you can keep quiet and keep up, you can come. The first time you whine, or cry, or say you're tired, you can just go home by yourself. Clear?”

Looking like I just gave him the keys to the Cathedral, Tick nodded, eyes bright. Between all of us we got him into his outdoor clothes and fitted his respirator on him, and then I hit the door one final time and we headed out into the night.

It never really got dark on the lakefront. White Lake cast a glow where the fuel offga.s.sed from the reservoir, even outs.h.i.+ning the string of pearls, the strand of moons that hung overhead. In school we learned that other parts of Glory got dark enough to see the night sky, but not at White Lake. I always thought that would be something to see, a night so dark you could see the stars.

We pushed through the crowd thronging the wharfs. It was like old times, dodging the s.p.a.cers, dockworkers, and s.h.i.+pfitters coming off their s.h.i.+fts and streaming in and out of bars. In pockets of pearlescent light we could see the pretty ladies and the pretty boys, looking like they were half the show. I liked watching them from a distance-up close their eyes behind their masks were harsh and their voices lost the tinkling happiness they put on. But I wasn't looking at pretty ladies tonight. Tonight there was only Jenn. Beneath our laughter and running I kept sneaking looks at her. She had lost whatever momentary shyness had separated her from me earlier. Now she ran with the rest of us, sometimes backwards to shout something, sometimes jumping high to touch the street lamps and make them swing. It had been a favorite game and I was glad she remembered it. We all laughed when Tick jumped feebly off the ground, and Jenn swung him up and he reached out and touched the lamp.

To our amazement, the lamp tottered unsteadily and then keeled over, raising an explosion of sparks and a wicked smell of fuel, and causing shouts from other pa.s.sersby. We all stared, Tick more astonished than the rest of us, and Jenn slapped him on the shoulder and said with admiration, ”Go, Tick!”

That made us all laugh harder than ever and before the wharf guards could make their way to us, wading purposefully through the crowd, we ran off, holding Tick by his gloved hands until his toes barely touched the ground and he only had to make a skipping stride every now and again.

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