CHAPTER 5

Austin Rhinehart sat under a makfruit tree in the back garden and tried to imagine himself dead.

Everything would disappear, all of World. But then he would disappear, too, so how would he know he was dead? He wouldn’t. Unless Old Mother Kee^la’s tales of another world after death were true and Austin would join his ancestors in endless dancing and feasting. But Austin wasn’t fond of dancing, and he didn’t have any ancestors on World for his lahk, because everyone in it had come from Earth, a place Austin didn’t remember. He’d been only three. Anyway, he didn’t believe Old Mother Kee^la’s tales. She wasn’t even his old mother, only Graa^lok’s; Austin’s lahk was also missing old mothers.

And he wasn’t going to be dead. He was Terran, and thus immune to spore disease. But everyone else was going to be dead: his best friend Graa^lok and Old Mother Kee^la and the teachers at school and Tiklal, whom Austin was supposed to apprentice to when he turned fourteen in two months. Only by that time, Tiklal would be dead, along with nearly everyone else on World.

Steven-kal came down the curving steps from the house, mounted a bicycle, and glimpsed Austin. He said in English, “I greet you, Austin. Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“I greet you, Steven-kal. I was just going.”

Steven-kal looked pointedly at his watch. “You are supposed to be there.”

“I’m just going now.”

“See that you do.” He mounted his bicycle and pedaled off.

Fuck! Austin thought, borrowing a forbidden word from his mother’s vocabulary. Steven-kal and his twin, Joshua-kal, were members of Austin’s lahk. His mother didn’t have any brothers, so Steven-kal and Joshua-kal had primary male responsibility for Austin, under the supervision of the lahk mother, who was Isabelle. Steven and Joshua McGuire—defiantly, he gave them their Earth names without the title of respect—weren’t even here at the lahk very much, so why did they have to visit now? Austin hated all of them—not because they were unkind to him but because they had responsibility for him for another three years and nobody recognized that he, Austin, was already an adult and able to make his own decisions.

Well, they would learn that soon enough!

He smacked one fist into the opposite palm, which felt good so he did it again. Graa^lok ducked under the hanging leaves. “I greet you, Austin. What are you doing?”

“I greet you, Graa^lok. Nothing,” Austin said. Graa^lok was learning English, which was one of the things Austin liked about him, even though Austin’s Worldese was perfect. “You got here before the window for language closed,” Isabelle-kal said, which Austin resented because that made it sound like the only reason he spoke so well was timing and not his own intelligence. The other thing he liked about Graa^lok was this: Graa^lok was the only kid on Kindred who had ever shown any curiosity about Earth.

Graa^lok said, “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready for a long time,” Austin said. It was something he’d overheard Tony Schrupp say. Graa^lok looked puzzled for a moment but then grabbed Austin’s hand. “Let us go!”

Austin pulled away; he didn’t like being touched. It was another thing that set him apart from Worlders, who were all over each other all the time. But Austin wasn’t a Worlder, as his mother kept telling him. He wasn’t a Terran, either. He wasn’t anything, and only Tony Schrupp seemed to understand that.

The boys darted from tree to tree, making a game of it, avoiding the road where people were bicycling around just as if they weren’t going to die in a few months. But then Austin and Graa^lok doubled back because Graa^lok needed to use the bathroom, of all the stupid times, and Austin’s mother caught them as they scampered down the stairs from the terrace to the garden.

“Austin!” she shrilled. “Come back here!”

“Going to school, Mom!” he called in English.

“No, come back, you and Graylock both, something horrible has happened!”

“Bye! School!” He ran as fast as he could with Graa^lok, who was shorter and fatter, puffing behind him. Whatever had happened would be his mother’s usual exaggerated crisis. She would cry because she’d burned the vegetable stew or ruined the pillow she was sewing, and then Austin would feel like crying because he couldn’t help her, and then he’d get mad because he didn’t want to cry. Over and over. The real problem, Austin knew because he wasn’t stupid even if he didn’t belong anywhere, was that his mother hated World. Austin, who loved World, was thrilled that finally he and Graa^lok and Tony Schrupp and the others were going to do something about that.

The boys kept away from the roads, where people had stopped their bicycles and stood in little groups, talking and waving their arms. Austin and Graa^lok ran through the gardens till they reached fields. Through the fields where people weeded crops or sprinkled them with foul-smelling fertilizer from carts drawn by pel^aks, the patient and stupid beasts moving as slowly as if the warm air were thick as water. Through the grazing land beyond the village, where skaleth¡ grazed, their furry purple bodies splashed with different color dyes on different parts of their bodies to show who they belonged to. Shearing season hadn’t come yet, and the skaleth¡ looked furry and content.

Well, they weren’t going to die! Animals didn’t get spore disease. Or… did they? Austin wasn’t sure.

The boys slowed, Graa^lok flopping down on a patch of soft moss to pant. Austin offered him water from the canteen at his belt and Graa^lok drank greedily, water dribbling down the front of his wrap. “Don’t waste it,” Austin said, heard the echo of Isabelle’s scolding words, and scowled. “We have a long way to go.”

“Speak the English. I want to create practice. This is our third-last trip,” Graa^lok said, unnecessarily. “Then, we did be away forever.”

“Not forever. We’ll come back to get my mother and your sisters. When everything’s ready.”

“Yes. Of course. But the other of Terrans in your lahk—”

“I told you, no.” Austin deepened his scowl so that Graa^lok wouldn’t ask any more questions about his lahk, which fascinated Graa^lok. Graa^lok’s lahk was normal, living in a bunch of close houses with Great-Grandmother Kee^la as lahk mother, her son and daughter and their children and all the young cousins like Graa^lok, with everybody’s father visiting instead of being thousands of light-years away on Terra. Austin would never be normal.

We’ll make a new normal, Tony Schrupp said.

At the thought of Tony, waiting for them in the amazing new thing they were creating, Austin’s scowl disappeared. “Get up,” he said to Graa^lok in English. “We still have a long way to go.”

* * *

Leo had rearguard in the transport, which was an open flatbed truck with benches and a sun canopy, like those things that tourists rode around on in Florida. “Electric,” Noah Jenner said. “Slow, but we don’t have far to go.”

Leo hadn’t heard where they were going. Owen had them all on alert, although the only thing they passed were an old man on a bicycle and some of the paint-splashed animals blocking the road. The other Kindred man got out and smacked them on their rumps until they moved. The big orange sun rose higher; the dark plants in the fields turned their broad leaves to follow it; Leo sweated in his armor and ignored the parched tingle of his throat.

At the front of the transport a radio spoke continuously in Kindese, the newscaster’s voice sounding choked with tears. Noah, up front, seemed to be translating in a low voice for his mother and Owen, but Leo couldn’t hear what they were saying. Dr. Bourgiba, near Leo, sat leaning forward, hands on his knees, straining to hear.

Dr. Patel said to him, “What’s happening, Salah?”

He spoke quickly during a pause in the broadcast, clearly not wanting to miss anything, “Their three major cities destroyed, the major cultural and scientific centers and their starship. About twenty percent of the population dead.”

Twenty percent? Leo had a hazy idea that in America, more than 20 percent of the people lived in cities. What he really wanted was evidence that the Russian ship had left the star system, but Dr. Bourgiba said nothing about that.

He added, “Decentralization of manufacturing and government, so….” Leo didn’t catch the rest.

More fields with either plants or paint-splashed animals, a big pond—and then they came to a settlement and Leo caught his breath.

He knew that he wasn’t usually sensitive to beauty (except in women). Scenic views, important buildings, gardens—none of it stirred him. But he’d never seen anything like these houses. They were made of something like bamboo, all curving walls and swooping roofs, with decks and woven bits. Big ones, smaller ones, all surrounded by trees and connected by curving stone paths. It looked like he imagined the estate of some high muckety-muck in some Asian country Leo would never see, but not exactly like that. He didn’t know what it looked like.

They ascended a small hill and stopped in front of a structure surrounded by trees. Owen snapped orders and the platoon jumped off the transport and took shielded positions behind it or nearby trees. The old woman on the transport looked startled, and then laughed.

Dr. Bourgiba said, “Lieutenant, there is no need for defensive measures.”

Owen didn’t even bother to answer him. “Kandiss, Berman, secure the building.”

A woman burst out of an upper floor onto a deck. Terran, though dressed in the same plain saronglike thing as Noah Jenner. She saw them and burst into tears. “You’re here! You’re really here—oh, thank God!”

She rushed down the stairs, saw Leo with his rifle raised, and stopped halfway down, hand to her mouth.

Noah Jenner snapped, “Put those guns down—Christ! This is my home, and you are guests! Kayla, I greet you—stop crying!”

Kandiss and Zoe ignored him, pushing past the woman on the stairs, disappearing into the house. A few moments later, Zoe reappeared on the deck. “Clear, Lieutenant. No other occupants.”

“Inside,” Owen said. Noah Jenner shot him a look of disgust and they all climbed the steps.

Inside was one large room, two sides open to the air but, Leo guessed, capable of being closed off with those woven wooden panels. Smaller cubicles on the side, all the doors open—probably by Kandiss or Zoe. A kitchen on one side, looking surprisingly like normal kitchens—a counter, stove, what might be a refrigerator. The rooms had no furniture except small, low tables of the same light wood as the house and a lot of big, heavily embroidered pillows, all in pale colors. The wood was pale, too, and the breeze blew through, warm and spicy. It was like being inside a basket at a flower show.

Jenner said, “You are welcome to my lahk,” not sounding for a second like he actually meant it.

The woman, Kayla, said, “Have you come to take us home? When, oh when?”

Jenner said, “Weren’t you listening to the radio?”

“No. Yes. For a while, but I couldn’t… it isn’t… Austin went to school like normal.”

“These Terrans’ ship was destroyed in the same attack that got the cities. I’m sorry, Kayla. Nobody is leaving World.”

Kayla began to wail, a high-pitched shriek that pierced Leo’s eardrums. The old Kindred woman, looking as disgusted as Jenner, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her onto the terrace and, it sounded like, down the steps into the garden.

Owen said to Jenner, “Who lives here and where are they?”

“The members of my lahk, which are the Terrans that came with me ten years ago. Some of them, anyway. Lieutenant, put down those ridiculous weapons. There is no danger here except what you and the Russian ship have caused.”

Dr. Jenner stepped between the two men. “Noah, the big problem now is food and water. We can’t handle your microbes. You had your entire microbiome changed, and we will need to do that. Meanwhile, we need a negative-pressure area with Terran atmosphere, the way it was arranged for us on the Embassy.”

Jenner said nothing for a long moment. To Leo, it looked as if he was bracing himself for something he didn’t want to say. Leo’s hand tightened on his sidearm, which he had not received orders to holster.

Jenner said, “Mom—all of you—the setup that we had on Terra, the Embassy with its labs and the shuttle to orbit and the ship itself—all that was in Kam^tel^ha, the capital city, and was destroyed with it. I told you already that we didn’t understand all that alien tech, and we never succeeded in duplicating it. The major hospitals and research labs were there, too. We have smaller clinics, one just down the hill, and maybe it can help. I’m no doctor. But in general, you will need to take off those masks and let your bodies adjust to World on their own.”

Bourgiba said sharply, “Has anyone done that? Of the original Terrans?”

“Six of us allowed our microbes to be altered at Kam^tel^ha. Four refused. Of those, two died. The other two are fine.”

Dr. Jenner said, “Which two?”

“Nicole Brink and Tasha McGruder.”

The names meant nothing to Leo; he hadn’t read much about the Kindred visit to Terra. He’d been fourteen years old, with his own problems.

Bourgiba said, “How long was the adjustment time?”

“About a week. A pretty rocky week.”

Owen demanded, “You didn’t answer my question, Mr. Jenner. Who lives here and where are they?”

Leo watched Jenner restraining his temper. “Myself, Kayla, her son Austin, Kayla’s sister Isabelle, and Steven and Joshua McGuire.”

Owen said, “Not Tony Schrupp or Nathan Beyon?”

“No. They chose to leave the lahk about a year ago.”

From Noah’s tone, this was some sort of breach, but Leo didn’t know of what.

Owen said, “Where did they go?”

“To the mountains. I don’t know where.”

“You have a wife and child. Where are they?”

“With my wife’s lahk, of course.”

“Does anyone in this house possess any weapons?”

No, and neither do you. You are guests here, Lieutenant, and Kindred does not permit guns of any sort. You will all relinquish yours and they will be locked safely away.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Owen said.

Once again, Marianne Jenner stepped in. “Noah, not now. We need water. Is there any sort of filtered water we can drink through straws or something?”

“No. Mom—”

She interrupted him. “I think it would be best if you took us to the clinic you mentioned, so we can see what supplies and facilities you have. We need to get acclimated as soon as possible because we’re going to try to manufacture more vaccine from the amount we brought. Claire Patel here—No, Noah, don’t look so hopeful, there aren’t many doses. We thought the whole planet would be vaccinated. There’s only enough for—Claire?”

Dr. Patel said, “A hundred doses. But we’ll need at least fifty to synthesize from, if we can do that at all.”

Fifty vaccines, and a whole continent of people facing the spore cloud, not counting the ones already dead in those cities. And Noah Jenner had a wife and child. Leo saw his face, the hunger and calculation, and knew that Jenner wanted two of those vaccines for the people he loved. So would everybody else, unless the doctors could make more. But even so, could they make enough for everybody in a few months, part of which was going to be spent sick from “adjusting” to the germs in this alien air? Didn’t seem likely.

Now Leo knew how their mission would look on Kindred.

Shit.

* * *

Isabelle came home from the baker’s, the basket of her bicycle laden with fresh-baked bread, her eyes red from weeping. Four cities. She had visited only Kam^tel^ha and knew none of the lahks in any of them, but they were Kindred and now they’d been murdered. The latest radio broadcast, which she’d heard in the teahouse, had said that the destroyer was a Russian ship. Isabelle wasn’t sure how the Great Mother knew this. There was no way to communicate with the ship, if it was still around, because the Kindred ship had been destroyed in the Russian attack. The Great Mother had escaped death only because she’d been out of the capital, returning to her lahk like everybody else, to await the coming of the spore cloud. The cities had been half empty.

Half empty was still a huge number of deaths. And gone were the hospitals, the universities, the old Temple of Life.

Isabelle rounded the curve of road to her lahk and screeched her bicycle to a halt. The upper deck was full of people—Terrans. Terrans she did not know. Noah Jenner, whom she hadn’t seen in a few months because he spent most of his time at Llaa^moh¡’s lahk, stood among them. One, two… eight other Terrans, and four of them wore helmets and carried guns.

She dropped her bicycle, snatching up the bread, and rushed up the steps.

“I greet you, Noah. What—” She stopped dead. Two of the soldiers had raised guns. Isabelle had, a dozen years ago, dated a Special Forces guy. He’d been a dick, but she knew what she was looking at. These were Army Rangers.

Noah said, “I greet you, Isabelle. This is Isabelle Rhinehart, she lives here. Better be careful, Lieutenant, she’s armed with loaves of bread.”

A man stepped forward. Middle Eastern–looking, but no accent to his English, evidently the leader. “I’m Dr. Salah Bourgiba, Ms. Rhinehart. We’re off the American starship Friendship, which was destroyed in the same attack as on your cities. Mr. Jenner brought us here.”

Noah said, “I’m taking them to the clinic—best we can do. They need to drink, and the hospital at—”

“Yes, I know,” Isabelle interrupted. “Where’s Kayla? And Austin?”

“Austin’s at school. Kayla’s in the garden with Bahlk^a.”

“Hysterical?”

“Yes.”

Of course she was. Trust Kayla to make any complicated situation more complicated. Isabelle looked over the Terrans. So odd to see such pale skins on all but Bourgiba and the largest of the soldiers, who appeared to be African-American. And the hospital destroyed—

She said, “I’ll come with you. I’ve been through what’s ahead of you.”

The older woman said, “You didn’t have your microbes replaced before you reached Kindred?”

Kindred? Was that what they were calling World now? Dumb name. “No, I didn’t. Are you Marianne Jenner? I recognize you from your pictures ten years ago. I was stupid then, I didn’t trust Worlders to mess around with my insides and so I adapted the hard way. It’s bad but it only lasts a week or so. Unless the doctor at the clinic—it’s only a local clinic, don’t expect anything fancy—can do something to help that’s been developed since. We learned a lot from the trip to Terra, you know.”

“But not, apparently, about the time dilation,” Marianne said. She was not smiling.

“No. That was as big a shock to Mee^hao¡ and the others as it must have been to you. Lieutenant, you really don’t need those weapons here. Although I have nothing but the greatest respect for the Seventy-Fifth Regiment.”

Noah Jenner scowled. “Come on,” he said. “We need to go.”

* * *

Nothing but the greatest respect for the Seventy-Fifth Regiment. She was beautiful, smart—look how fast she grasped the whole situation—and kind. How old was she? Older than Leo, maybe, but Christ—her figure in that revealing sarong-thing, her strong firm arms. She wasn’t dyed copper like Noah Jenner (or whatever they did to get his skin that color), but her face and body were tanned and her light brown hair streaked from that big orange sun. Or from something, anyway.

Was she married? He didn’t understand this lahk thing, which had Noah Jenner living here and his wife someplace else. Maybe Leo could ask Bourgiba to explain it; the doctor seemed to know a lot about how Kindred worked.

He wasn’t worried about surviving this “microbe adjustment.” Hell, next to RASP and Ranger School and the whole poison ivy–sepsis incident, it would probably be a piece of cake.

Isabelle Rhinehart. Things were looking up.

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