Wind Spindle Chapter 13

 

 

Del’s heart seemed to be in his boots. He trudged next to Jennifer, watching the orange dust of the desert floor sifting aside with each step. There went the Bowl, and with the Bowl went the greatest support he could have had. 

“The transport may take a couple more hours.” Jennifer checked the wrist pad on her suit. “But they’ve been dark, so they were shielded from all this anyway. Dumb luck, huh? They know I’m down. They’re coming.” Del said nothing. Jennifer huffed. “Del. You need to get over this. Not everything good comes from the Bowl.” 

“No,” he said. “Just most of the financial support, and the engineers, and the reputation, and while we’re at it, the best food and music and-” 

“Well, get manly. Or, what is it you say here? Or jump off.” 

Del mustered his patience. “You just got here, and we’ve been in negotiations. So I’m going to be polite to you.” 

“Martian manners,” she laughed, “Which is why it takes you forever to get anything done-” 

“Earthling-” he interrupted, watching her shocked offense at the counter-insult with satisfaction, “-rudeness.  To remind you, the first successful Adapted human gene codes were edited here.” Del jabbed his finger at the ground, “Not by wetbrains. By Dinée and Hopi Marsers, on this world you happen to be standing on. And then Company 1 tries to grab credit and steal codes-” 

“You seem to be fine with that particular moral conundrum at the moment.” 

Del took a deep breath. Finally he said, “Earth history. You must be so proud.”

 

Jennifer’s face darkened. “The history of women on Earth is what I care about. A history of advances followed by defeats, over and over again, with every advancement toward equality slapped away by the old hateful ideas.”

 “So, live here,” said Del, “We haven’t been held back by that idiocy here since the second die off.”

 She gaped at him, her face twisted in outrage.

 Del explained, “We can serve our sentences, finish our rehabilitation therapies and start over. It’s not what I wanted either, but-”

 “You think I came here for a romance with you?” She laughed. “Del, I have a job to do.”

 “Company 1 can jump off.”

 “No. Del!” She slapped her chest, “I have something important to do!”

 “What?”

 Jennifer stared at him sorrowfully. “I was going to try to leave you out of it. But you’re implicated with me now, anyway.”

 “Company 1 wants the code, I know. But we don’t have to-”

 She sighed. “I have to show you something.”

  

Dohna opened a thermal silk package and drew out a hot round of bread, fresh from the fat. It steamed in the morning chill, with a glistening golden crust that tore effortlessly, revealing tender, fluffy insides. Kallo stuffed a handful into her mouth.

 “You’ve been an empty spindle, weightless. You haven’t gathered life. It’s time.”

 “I know grandmas talk in stories,” Kallo said around the mouthful as best she could without slowing her breakfast, “But you don’t make any sense.”

 “You are arrogant,” said Dohna. “You are proud. You have not been taught manners. You are ignorant and have not learned skills you need because of your pride and arrogance. First, there will be a fall from a great height. Then you will have to get up again, and you will need to grow up. Nature demands it.”

 “Why did I want to see you anyway?” Kallo gulped creamy, tannin-sharp tea; her upper lip gathered a thin sheen of butter fat. She wiped her mouth. “I have manners,” she said.

 “No, you don’t. But that is a good question. Why would you want to see me?”

 Kallo stared at the old woman, her insides churning with confusion. She could not find the words.

 “You are alone,” said Dohna, “For the first time. That’s good. You have so much to do.”

 “Quit telling me things you don’t know. You’re just trying to brain-spin me.”

 “A good turn of phrase.” The old woman laughed. She pulled a spindle from her pocket and spun it from a delicate strand of wool.  "This," she said, "Is how you move now.  This is how self-centered you are," Dohna held up the wooden disc on a stick, empty of yarn, spinning crookedly, "A whirling spindle."   She stopped it, wrapped the wool around the staff, and spun it again.  Yarn began piling on to it in neat rows. "It's time to gather life."

 Kallo rolled her eyes. She threw her head back to swallow the last of the tea. She wanted to slam the cup down but stared at Dohna, setting it with deliberate gentleness on the table. Then she stumbled from the yurt.

  A small wheelmule thundered toward Del and Jennifer, finally pulling up in clouds of dust.

 “Tate!” Del said, pulling off his mask as the dust settled.

 “Hey, yah!” Tate shot back in Arturos slang. “What’s coming down, brother?”

 

Del stared at his old friend’s getup. Tate was from Arturos, like Del. He’d grown up gritty, like Del. Now he wore new triple-silk desert gear, sleek and fully outfitted with the newest telescope goggles and equipment belt. His dust-resistant, unscratched boots gleamed.

“Company 1 treating you right, by the looks,” said Del.

Tate grinned with neat rows of new teeth, but his eyes were still, cool, ready. “Betcha.”

“Del, get in,” said Jennifer. “Let’s jet.”

Tate gave the same cool smile to Jennifer. “You’re a sweet Earth thing,” he said (as Del winced at his coarseness), “But I don’t take orders from you.” 

Jennifer ripped the cover from her wrist pad, seized Tate’s hand and smacked her wrist screen against his, causing a cascade of tones. Tate stared down at the new data.

 “Now you do.” said Jennifer, “So you will act a gentleman from now on. You get me?”

 Tate swallowed and took the wheel. “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, settling in for the long drive.

 Del had not been back to Arturos in years. He remembered the massive array of mirror canyons and ambient radiation harvesting networks, the piles of mineral tailings and dead equipment and rubble stretching for kilometer after kilometer. When he was small it had been overrun with packs of diseased canines, but these were regularly rescued and relocated to the Bowl. He imagined there were still rodents of one kind or another crawling around.

 He remembered the road they had now turned onto; it used to lead to a couple of useless canyons that had been extra dumping sites for asteroid tailings, long before he was born. He had never explored out here much, with the exception of adolescent drinking parties. But he hadn’t stayed long for those. He had found a real position; Mano called him a “natural broadcaster” and had also given him work in the lab. Back then the future seemed open, like a wide, clear morning sky. Many good things could have happened. He had worked so, so hard for a real future. And now it was all gone. Now, he could only hope for a new one.

 The wheelmule followed the bumpy spiral track down the inner slopes of the impact canyon, piled high with heavy asteroid rubble. Finally it jolted to a stop. As they climbed out of the wheelmule, Tate grabbed a camouflage tarp on the canyon wall and yanked it aside; it showered sand. A steel door behind it slid open, revealing two armed guards.

 Tate climbed back into the wheelmule and was off in a spray of gravel. 

Del cussed to himself. He had a bad, bad feeling. If he had had any other option, he would have taken it. But now he was following Jennifer down a series of glaring corridors. This area had never held a full subground installation;all of this was new. There were no greenhouses, just laser-carved basalt and sandstone halls. It occurred to Del that Earth architects must have designed this; Marsers had better eyes and wouldn’t need all this extraneous light.

 Jennifer stopped in front of a door that looked like dozens of other doors: plain, unmarked steel. She swiped her wrist panel across the door, which slid open; they were met with a wall of dense, humid atmo. It was a plain entry room with a few desks and cabinets, very stark. Earthers loved square, bright, cold rooms. It all made Del feel like a specimen on a slide.

 Jennifer took off her helmet, pausing to cough as her lungs adjusted-this wasn’t perfect Earth air. She worked at the fasteners, finally emerging from the suit. Del had looked away in modesty, but now he looked back at her; she was wearing a traditional red silk dress of ancient design that fit her in taut, smooth lines. She pulled a pin, releasing her heavy black hair. Then she opened a desk drawer, pulled out pointed shoes with heels on them and stepped gracefully into them. All the while she watched him, like a cat.

 “I need you to be strong,” she said. “Come with me.”

 Kallo shoved the sliding panel door of the yurt aside and stared up into the face of a Kham guard.

 "The power and comm grids are back up," he said. Kallo marched past him to the wheelmule and plunked into a seat. "Take me to the Observatory now," she said.

 They made the climb up the volcano; Kallo leaned her head back to watch the raven-sized drones taking off from a launch pad on the Observatory tower, one after the other, like bees leaving a hive. A blimp was rising beyond the Observatory, weather instruments whirling, readouts scrolling on its skin.

 Kallo’s heart lightened to see this. The sky was alive again. The grid was alive, and her Daddy was in charge of the comm grid, and now it belonged to Mars. Kallo's eyes stung with pride. Mars had its own comm grid now. Earth didn't own the signals anymore. Now they were free.

 Then another thought made her heart pound: this was important and she better not mess it up. Her Daddy was depending on her. Mars was depending on her. Kallo looked at the sky and made a promise to herself. She would not let her Daddy down. She would not let her world down.

 She leaped from the wheelmule before it had come to a full stop and ran in her pigeon-toed, limping run into the empty courtyard, stumbling only once.

 "I want to see my Daddy now!" she shouted. The guard had lifted her before she could dodge him and was carrying her into the Observatory, past the great stone doors, up the spiraling stairs past the vibrantly colored sand paintings and wool rug hangings on the walls, into a central circular gallery of tall gleaming windows with the view of the sky and mountains. Through the glass ceiling high above, the giant receiver dishes spun and tilted.

 Princess Kinlani was seated with the three monks Kallo had met last night and several elders from New Khan in their silk robes and fur hats, all at a ring of desks.

"I apologize for detaining you last night," said the princess. "We wanted to ensure protection for you and for Kinlani.”

Kallo opened her mouth to say something angry but found herself remembering what Dohna had said just moments ago. For some reason now, those words about life and manners had begun to make sense. Kallo swallowed.

"Can I go now?"

"You may have private mule transport."

"Forget that!" Kallo turned and ran up the continuing spiral steps.  She stopped, hearing Dohna’s voice say “manners, manners.”  She turned and bowed to the Princess. 

“Your highness, please forgive my rudeness.  I am worried about my Daddy, and also we have many jobs to do, carrying news and updates to all corners of Mars by flier.”

“A brilliant solution,” said the Princess, “Mano thought of that, of course?

“Well,”  Kallo thought.  “Both of us, really.  But now that the new comm grid is up there will be security concerns, maintenance and other things I must put my attention to.”

The Princess grinned suddenly.  “I though you were just a child, but you have the potential to be very grown-up, don’t you?

Kallo looked at the Princess, thinking hard.  “I hope so,” she said with a sigh.

The Princess laughed.

“And to see our skies coming alive again,” they stood looking up at the drones flyying in precise formations and the blimps scrolling weather metrics.  What do you think of that?”

“I am very proud,” Kallo’s voice shook.  She couldn’t help it.  Tears streamed down the sides of her nose.  Then the Princess did something that surprised Kallo.

.  She stepped up to Kallo and wrapped an arm around her.

“We are all proud today,”she said softly.  Kallo looked up at her.  “I will do my world proud,” she said.  “I will never compromise the free voice of Mars.  I promised my Daddy, and I promise you.”The Princess gave Kallo a squeeze and set her free.  Kallo ran.   

She made it onto the floor above and all the way to one of the doors to a maintenance platform, but the doors wouldn't open.  Yoshi, the middle-aged monk, was walking calmly behind her.

He swiped his wrist data pad at the doors, which opened.

"We've heard about Del," he said, "Please be careful.  We only have one flyer who can ride devils."

Kallo stared at him. "What about Del?” she said.

He was smiling at her tenderly. "Goodbye, little spinner.  Come to Stormhorse one day."

Kallo was going to tell him to jump off, that she was in a hurry, but then she remembered her promise. She thought for a moment. "What do you need?" she asked him. "I can bring you more hard data, or-"

"We will let you know."

He bowed with his hands together, and Kallo awkwardly returned the gesture. She turned and walked to the edge of the platform.

Her mind went still as she sucked deeply through her nose and mouth to read the air. The winds were too calm, which meant atmo energy gathering somewhere else. It also meant terrible take-off conditions for her. The saline funk of the quicksand lagoons was still strong this morning, but through it tinges of metals, no doubt off-gassing from the reconstructions and power reboot. Her skin prickled with the knowledge before her mind had put it in words. She ran back down the spiral steps and into the gallery.

“A storm is coming,” she told them, “A big one. The energy is going to start building fast in about four hours.”

One of the elders frowned, checking his desk panel. “Our instruments don’t indicate-”

“Your  instruments might be able to detect one molecule in a trillion like I can,” said Kallo. “But they don’t know what it means when the lagoons are evaporating slow enough that I can smell algae, and when I can smell a fresh cut in a glacier between here and the equator, and sheep dung first thing in the morning before they even take the herds out. That means the warm moist air is moving up and the cold air is rushing down a lot faster than usual. Put that all together. There’s. A. Storm. Building. You need to get everyone subground and protect all your equipment now.”

They all stared at her.

“Now!”Kallo just barely contained the urge to yell.

Princess Kinlani nodded. “And you will stay here with us.”

Kallo glanced at each of them. She darted back up the spiral stairs, stumbling. She heard the princess call out, “Stop her!” but she made it back through the door, onto the platform. The blimp was still rising; its mooring lines were being drawn up. If she jumped now she might catch one and steal more elevation; from a higher trajectory she could fly to the central grid tower faster. If she made the leap without enough trajectory, it would be very close to the ground.

Guards were running onto the platform.

Kallo jumped.