Loka (The Alloy Era), page 25
“Hello,” I said with an uncertain wave. “My friend and I are looking for passage to Australia and Asia. We’re experienced sailors. Any chance you’re heading that way and could take us on as crew?”
“I thought you looked familiar,” he said. “You’re that kid from the show, In Exile.”
I nodded and hoped that the recognition would work in our favor. “So you know what we’re trying to do and why. Will you help us cross the Pacific?”
He waved his arms in a warding gesture. “Sorry. I’m not getting involved in anything illegal.”
I tried to think of what he could mean and failed. “We’re not doing anything that breaks the law.”
“Not yet.” He gave me a you-know-what-I-mean look. “There’s a new law being proposed. It would ban journeys like your Anthro Challenge. A lot of humans in Loka are making noise about it, and I need the goodwill of the people I meet in port. Quite a few of them don’t like what you’re doing.” He shrugged. “Nothing personal. You seem all right, but taking you aboard puts me at too much risk.”
I recalled Ebra and her family’s reaction to hearing about our journey. It made a kind of inevitable sense that others had found it objectionable after seeing the show. How did their numbers compare to those who had signed the pledge for exile reform?
“Do you know if there are any other boats in the area, or heading this way?” I asked.
“Not without checking the network. Wouldn’t that violate your rules?”
“It would,” I admitted.
“Plenty of craft pass through here. I’m sure you’ll see more in a day or two. Might get luckier with the next one.”
I nodded, though my heart sank. “Thanks.”
We had seventy-five days to get home and catch Chedi’s final shuttle from Earth. Two and a half months to sail across the Pacific Ocean and then make our way back to Vaksana. Based on the estimates we had made with Rune, we couldn’t afford to lose another day, but without a boat, we had no way forward.
DAY 100
For ten days, I’d gone to the harbor every afternoon. Somya would accompany me until their arms got tired from the crutches, and Toya would come along when she didn’t have work to do. Most days, I found only small boats, except for another large one that showed up, but its captain gave me the same story as the previous one. People—both alloy and human—had serious objections to the challenge. They didn’t like that our wheeled bikes and trailer caused erosion damage. They thought that we used resources in unpredictable ways and endangered lives. Ebra and her family had helped start the protest movement, Toya learned. Unlike the pledge to reform exile, the petition to outlaw the AC wasn’t contingent on us finishing it. Alloys took their time to make new laws, often spending decades before enacting change, but there were provisions for emergency measures. How badly did people want to prevent me and Somya from going on, and how many of them felt that way? I wished I could look up the answers.
Somya and I sat in the courtyard and discussed our options. We shared a wide stone bench covered in cushions. Sunshine warmed us intermittently as heavy broken clouds sped by overhead. A cool wind gusted through our sheltered space, but I didn’t sense rain in its passing. I marveled at the fact that I had the confidence to predict the weather. Our time on the Svapna must have sensitized me to changes in pressure and humidity—another skill I would lose if I had to leave Earth, which appeared increasingly likely.
“You have to leave me here,” Somya said. “I’m sure people will honor the pledge if you finish the challenge on your own.”
“I looked at the maps this morning,” I said. “From here to Cueva is roughly sixty-three hundred kilometers. If I keep a really good pace, I can make it in eighteen days, but more realistically it will take closer to twenty-five. I’ll have to do all the work—making and striking camp, cooking, cleaning, towing the trailer on my own. We have only two months. Even if I found a boat to take me across from Cueva, I wouldn’t make it home in time.”
Somya’s expression turned stubborn. “Then we wait here, and you keep checking the harbor every day until it’s absolutely too late.”
“The more time that passes, the more captains who learn about the anti-AC law and the lower our chances of finding a ride.” I shook my head and looked my heartsib in the eyes. “Som, at some point we have to accept that we’ve failed. I want to finish the challenge, I want to see the pledge go through, but I don’t see a reasonable way forward at this point.”
“How much longer can we wait here for a boat?”
“Four days.”
“Then we don’t give up yet.” Somya crossed their arms and shot me a you-can’t-change-my-mind look.
I shrugged. “Okay. I enjoy the walk to the harbor. I’ll humor you for a few more days, but nothing will change.”
“See you in a few hours.”
Somya headed back inside. Toya and her teenage sister were foraging, so I headed out alone. I tried to take solace in the rolling hills and the glorious views of the Pacific. The sea had moods that changed often, sometimes by the hour. The patchy clouds and brisk onshore wind lent the ocean a temperamental air. Waves tossed around white tips, and the water had a deep-silver-gray color that reminded me of oxidized jewelry. I would have to leave all of it behind.
I slowed my steps when I reached the village road. Fisherfolk carried baskets with their catches and walked in the opposite direction. I stopped at a window where the resident handed out tea and coffee to passersby. I requested my usual, a hot spiced coffee. A few houses farther, people queued up for hot fried fish.
A few minutes later, I was holding a cup that warmed my chilled fingers. The aroma of cinnamon, rosemary, a hint of cacao, and steamed milk eased the sting of daily failure. As I swallowed my first sip, I spotted a tall person with a blond braid in the fish-fry line. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming.
“Halli?” I cried. “Is that you?”
They turned toward me, and their startled expression was replaced by a smile like a sunbeam piercing a cloud. Halli closed the distance between us with a few rapid steps and wrapped me in their arms. A bit of coffee spilled on my hand. I laughed in surprise and delight at the unusual display of affection.
“I’m so glad to see you,” they said as they pulled back. “We didn’t know if you and Somya would be here, and Tongvana is so large. I had no idea where to start looking.”
“We? Rune is here, too?”
Halli nodded. “We fixed up the Svapna faster than we expected, so we sailed through the strait at Cueva and up the coast. We’ve searched for you at every port we put into along the way.”
“I am so happy to see you,” I said. “We’ve been stuck here for over a week, and the boat captains refuse to give us passage because of a new proposal to outlaw the Anthro Challenge.”
Halli nodded. “We’ve been desperate to find you. Rune and I caught up on the show and all the surrounding activity. I added my name to the SomAx pledge. That’s what people are calling it now. I remembered what you told me about growing up in exile, and I figured you’d approve of abolishing the practice.”
Tears prickled the back of my eyes. I blinked a few times before choking out a soft word of thanks.
We stepped back into the fish-fry line. People glanced at us with curious expressions. If they recognized me or Halli from the show, they didn’t say anything. I lowered my voice and told Halli about Somya’s broken leg.
Halli received their paper-wrapped food and turned to me. “Let’s go see Rune. He’ll be relieved to know that we’ve found you.”
We moved at a brisk pace. I was shivering in the full force of the sea breeze off the exposed harbor when I spotted the Svapna, tall and regal in her dock, the only sailboat in sight. I would have known its contours anywhere.
We found Rune belowdecks with Paasha, who greeted me by rubbing against my leg. The old sailor grinned and pulled me into a fierce hug.
“Where is Somya?” he asked.
I repeated the abbreviated story I’d shared with Halli and promised both of them all the details once we set sail. I paused. “That is, if you’ll have us aboard.”
Rune cocked an eyebrow. “Why else would we have come all this way? We should get going as soon as possible.”
“Thank you,” I said, overwhelmed by emotion. “I’ll head back to Toya’s house and tell everyone the good news.”
“I’ll come and help you,” Halli said.
Was there more than kindness to Halli’s offer? I put the thought aside. Plenty of time to sort out my feelings while we crossed an ocean.
There were no tears when Somya and I said our goodbyes to Toya and her family. The younger children took their leave and returned to their studies. The older sib didn’t seem overly bothered, as was their personality. Toya’s parents had kind smiles and some small gifts of food and artwork for us. Toya gave Somya a ride on her walker as Halli and I followed on foot with the bikes. I thought of Somya’s pain when leaving Freni. Toya and Somya hadn’t grown as close, in part because of Somya’s limited mobility, but also because Toya had a very different personality. She was more reserved, and she’d kept her distance by staying busy helping her family.
By the time we arrived at the harbor, the sun had dropped behind a mass of clouds on the horizon. Rune heard us on the dock and helped get our gear loaded and secured. The Svapna’s hull looked as if the storm hadn’t touched it, the new sections of woven wood seamlessly integrated with the old.
Toya hugged me goodbye. Somya handed her the crutches and their boot, along with many promises to sit still after getting settled on the deck. Toya kissed them gently on the lips. I turned away and busied myself with preparing for our departure.
“Safe travels to you all,” Toya said as she stepped back onto the dock.
A seagull cried out and landed atop the main mast like a proud mascot. Toya waited until we unmoored and started to motor away. I waved to her one last time and shifted my attention to the journey ahead. We had no margin left for error or natural disaster, but we had the Svapna and Rune and Halli. As long as the wind and sea cooperated, we could reach the Hawai’ian islands in ten days. After that, we would turn southwest toward Falealupo and then onward to Vanuatu and Ganjdija. I hoped the Pacific wouldn’t live up to its name too much, that we wouldn’t get becalmed like the sailboats of old. The Svapna had a solar-powered motor, but its top speed was only half of what she could do with a healthy wind in her sails.
I sat beside Somya and put an arm around their waist.
“Feels good to be out on the water again,” they said.
I matched their grin. The wind tugged at our hair and carried the scent of kelp and fish and brine. We cleared the breakwater, and the boat began to roll with the waves.
“Guess you won’t be needing your sea legs for a while,” I said.
Somya grimaced. “It’s not my legs I’m worried about.”
I laughed. “I’m sure the fish have missed seeing your face over the rails.”
They peered down. “Is that right?”
I leaned my head against their shoulder. “We have to finish this, Som. Between the pledge and now this counterproposal, we might never get another chance.”
“We will. Don’t worry. We’ve jumped across every hurdle this planet has placed in our way so far, and we’ll get over the rest.”
I stared out over the endless expanse of the sea. The horizon rose and fell and beckoned us with promises. I intended to make sure it kept every one.
DAY 111
We came upon the lava flows of Mauna Loa a little before sunset. Glowing blobs of orange oozed from the crusty land and dripped into the sea, creating plumes of white steam where the two met. Halli and I were on shift. Rune was below making dinner, but he popped out after we dropped anchor to take in the view before returning to meal preparations.
Our journey west had taken one day longer than we’d hoped—not bad considering that calm waters had sometimes stranded boats for a week or more. We’d sailed through a couple of minor squalls without incident. The weather had kept the breezes strong and the ocean relatively calm. I hoped it was an omen of good fortune for the rest of our journey.
The route from Tongvana to Hawai’i had kept us within the borders of Loka, and we witnessed alloys in the sea and air, along with native Earth life. I spotted quite a few mola, a flat, elongated fish almost as large as some whales. We’d seen plenty of the latter as well—grays, humpbacks, and a lone blue that stretched almost twice the length of the Svapna. Massive pods of bottlenose dolphins would accompany us for up to an hour at a time, their dark black eyes staring with curiosity and intelligence into mine. Stingrays spread their wings and glided through the water like two-dimensional birds. I couldn’t wait to get underwater for a closer look.
We decided to anchor offshore for the night and go for an evening dive. Rune thought that I should stay on the boat in case people in Loka recognized me. The released episodes of In Exile hadn’t caught up to our trek across NorthAm, so even if people identified Rune or Halli, they wouldn’t obstruct them the way they might with me or Somya. My heartsib wasn’t quite ready to walk off the boat anyway. They had spent the journey on deck because they couldn’t descend the stairs into the cabin. The sunshade provided basic protection from the rain, and the cushioned benches at the stern made for a decent bed. Somya’s foot had mended quite a bit, though, and they had started walking on it for short amounts of time.
That evening, we dined with the most unique view in the world.
“We’re witnessing creation,” Rune said. “The union of fire and water produces land and also feeds life. Without magma, the earth would have barren rock.”
“That’s part of what makes Meru special, too,” Halli said. “The level of geothermal activity creates conditions similar to ours.”
“And if we leave it alone, one day it might develop complex life,” I said.
People had discovered cyanobacteria in Meru’s oceans, enough to oxidize the planet’s atmosphere to twice the level of Earth’s. Moisture, heat, and single-celled organisms formed the basis of evolution, so why would Meru’s fate be any different from Earth’s? I could understand why so many alloys had voted against allowing people—including humans—to inhabit the planet’s surface.
“You could have both,” Halli countered. “Evolution on Meru won’t stop because of our presence, unless we actively force it to. What if humans could safeguard the life there, nurture it, and watch it grow into greater complexity, like we do here? We could form an entirely new kind of society.”
“Like the people of Tongvana,” Somya said, “and their philosophy of coexistence rather than maintenance. Instead of seeing ourselves as caretakers, we should act like the integral parts of the environment that we are. Our presence in a place makes us inseparable from it, so rather than isolating and preserving Meru’s existing life, we accept that we’ll affect it and that it’ll also change us.”
Halli looked at me. “That’s already true of the humans who live there, right?”
I nodded. Why was everyone else more excited by the prospect of living on Meru than I was? Because for them, it’s not an option, much less a destiny forced upon them.
“So where are we going to dive?” I said, deliberately changing the subject.
“About half an hour away, around the west side,” Rune said. He stood and started to gather up the empty dishes. “We should get underway now that the sun has set.”
We had two breathers, and Rune felt a little tired, so Halli had offered to take me. Rune promised that the world beneath the surface held at least as much beauty in the dark as it did in daylight. The journey to the dive site took as long as predicted, and we dropped anchor a few kilometers off the coast near an underwater atoll. Halli stripped down to their underwear and pulled on their dive vest. They activated a switch, and the outlines of their garment lit with golden bioluminescence. They pulled the second vest out of the storage bin and handed it to me.
I held it uncertainly, remembering what happened with the bounders when I removed my clothing. Nobody who had watched In Exile had mentioned anything about my chromatophores, so I guessed that Nara had edited those parts out. I was afraid to face the same animosity from Halli and Rune that I had from Lumo and the others, though my instinct told me that I could trust them with my secret, and my instincts had always been right in Chedi.
“You can dive in those clothes if you’re shy,” Rune said.
I locked eyes with Somya and saw my doubts reflected in their gaze. They gave me the faintest of shrugs. Do what you want, their gesture said to me.
“I’m not shy.” I took a deep breath and pulled up my sleeve. “I have some DNA that isn’t human.” I repeated the words in phoric. The light from my skin glowed in the evening with unmistakable bioluminescence, and the brilliant chartreuse hue betrayed my concern.
Rune’s bushy eyebrows rose. “Chromatophores? I’ve only seen those on alloy skin.”
“I’m not an alloy, I promise.”
He nodded. “I believe you. Is this another gift from your mother, or is it an unexpected mutation?”
“My mother.”
I worked up the courage to look at Halli. Their expression held wonder and a hint of delight.
“I guess you won’t need these,” Halli said and gestured at the lights on their vest. The corners of their eyes crinkled with amusement.
Somya laughed, Rune grinned, and the moment of tension dissipated. I sighed with relief and began to undress. My phores glowed purple with happiness. I didn’t try to suppress them.
Halli dropped off the side of the boat first. I stared into the inky water for a minute, took a deep breath, and stepped away from the deck. The ocean surrounded me like a lukewarm bath. I gave Halli the hand sign that I was okay. With a tap of the wrist unit, the vest adjusted my weight until I sank slowly beneath the bobbing surface. I adjusted my ear pressure as we dropped, using the method Rune had taught me on the boat. Halli’s illuminated torso guided me toward the shadowy form of the atoll. Oval forms flashed by, some in muted colors, most silvery. Halli made the sign to go neutral, and I adjusted my buoyancy again.
