Song of the Navigator (10 page)

Lourdes finished setting the table then squeezed Tover's arm, smiling at him. Ana brought plate after plate of food for the table before she finally took her own seat.

He recognized much of the breakfast: orange juice, pancakes with syrup, fruit. But there was some strange dairy product in a bowl that looked partly like cottage cheese, partly like yogurt, and the coffee seemed to consist mostly of scalded milk. There were tortillas and eggs with salsa, and also a fruit juice that Tover didn't recognize, offered by itself in a small carafe.

Everything other than the weird juice and unrecognizable yogurt was incredible. He didn't say much, feeling shy in front of these women, an uninvited houseguest taking up space in their homey kitchen.

“Did you talk to Ricky about next month?” Ana asked her mother. They both seemed happy to let Tover be.

Lourdes shrugged. “I'll talk to him next week.”

“Mom, you can't do it alone again. Remember how much was wasted last year?”

“You can help me.” Lourdes grinned.

“I told you. I don't farm.” Ana cut into her egg forcefully. “Why did you even bother sending me to the polytech if you wanted me to be a stupid farmer?”

“Because I thought you'd meet a nice man there,” Lourdes said. Something about the comment must have been an inside joke because both women burst out laughing.

“Do you like everything?” Ana asked Tover when she stopped laughing. “Taste okay?”

“It's the best breakfast I've ever had.” Tover meant it.

“Do you cook at home?” Lourdes asked.

Tover shook his head. “I live in a hotel. There isn't even a kitchenette in my suite.”

Ana made a face. “I can't imagine eating out for every meal.”

Tover shrugged. “There's a lot of variety in the restaurants available on the station, and the hotel kitchen is willing to prepare me special requests when I'm in the mood.”

“Did your parents cook for you growing up?” Lourdes asked.

Tover frowned. “I'm not sure. I think so. The smell of these pancakes triggered a memory, but I can't recall much about them.”

Both Ana and Lourdes froze.

“I'm so sorry,” Lourdes said after a moment. “I didn't know they had passed.”

“They're probably still alive,” Tover corrected. “I don't know.”

Lourdes clearly didn't understand.

“My parents contributed me to the Navigator Training Institute once I tested positive for vibration sensitivity.”

Lourdes's eyes grew wide.

Tover felt self-conscious and tried to smile. “They were proud to do it. All Arlandians consider it a great honor to have a navigator candidate and willingly give up custody.”

Both Ana and Lourdes continued to stare at him. Lourdes squeezed Tover's hand. “Oh, honey. Why would you ever think that?”

Tover swallowed his mouthful of pancake. “What do you mean?”

“Your parents would never
willingly
give you away.”

Tover shook his head. “No. It's an honor, really—”

“That's what they told you,” Ana interrupted. She looked pissed. “Do you honestly think people would give up their babies to a company to see if they can make that company money?”

Tover blinked. He'd never even questioned the idea of his parents willingly giving him up.

“But they told me—”

“Of course they lied to you!” Ana said. “How old were you when they stole you?”

Tover felt a flicker of alarm. “Five, I think—”

“Five!” Ana slammed down her fork. “It's a crime. They tell you your parents
wanted
to give you away…”

“It's all right, Ana, it doesn't bother me,” Tover said, hoping to calm her down. “I don't miss them or anything.”

“Well how
could
you miss them, you never even got to
know
them!” Ana shook her head. “How sad. I bet to this day they probably wonder what happened to you.”

“It isn't that bad…”

“Why, after willingly giving up custody, were they not allowed to see you?” Ana asked.

“I don't know.”

“Do you know their names?”

Tover frowned. “No.”

“Did you ever wonder why they never told you who they were?” Ana pressed. “Why couldn't you stay in touch with them after training? Why couldn't they call or visit if it was voluntary? I bet, even now, a trained navigator and an adult, you still couldn't find out their names. That's because Harmony doesn't want you knowing the truth—they stole you, sweetie.”

“You don't understand Arlandian culture.” Tover shoveled his food in faster. The conversation annoyed him, and he didn't feel like discussing it anymore.

“I guess I don't, if it's a place where mothers offer their children to Harmony.”

“Harmony isn't all bad,” Tover said defensively. “Everything I have in my life is thanks to Harmony.”

“And what is that, exactly?” Lourdes asked softly.

Tover frowned. “What is what?”

“What is it that you have in your life?”

“I have a great job and a fantastic wage,” Tover told her. “My penthouse suite is beautiful and customized to my tastes. They even built me an aviary.”

“And?”

“And?” Tover scoffed. “What else is there? I have a great life, respect, privilege and the money to do what I want to do.”

“Which is what?” Lourdes hounded him. “What do you like to do, Tover?”

Instantly, the image of Cruz's body pressed against his in the men's bathroom at the Palacio filled Tover's mind. He remembered his fantasy of going to see the Panzance Nebula with Cruz, a deluxe suite on one of those slow star cruises, and he quickly discarded it. Those fantasies were dead. They had died when Cruz became his enemy.

Tover didn't answer Lourdes, and after a few minutes, the women dropped the topic and switched to other things. Tover finished his breakfast, grateful to not be thinking about such things.

Chapter Nine

The following morning Tover walked to the kitchen and was pleased to see the women had automatically set a place for him. His heart swelled a little at the sight.

He reminded himself it could have been for Cruz too, but Ana glanced up from where she stacked muffins on a plate and shook her head. “What's wrong with fuerza juice?” she complained.

“What?” Tover made his way over to his seat carefully.

“I noticed you didn't drink any yesterday. That pale-blue juice. You gulped down all the orange but barely touched the fuerza.”

“I don't even know what fuerza is,” Tover said.

“It's a local berry.”

“Yeah, well, I don't like it.”

“Your loss then.” Ana put a glass of orange juice in front of him. She deliberately put fuerza in front of her mother, who looked tired that morning. “It's very healthy, you know,” Ana added.

“Yeah, and it tastes like ass,” Tover complained.

Ana smirked. “Well, you would know.”

“Ana!” Lourdes slapped Ana's arm.

Tover flushed scarlet.
How the hell did they know?
He glared up at Ana but she only grinned and continued to set the table like she hadn't said anything out of the ordinary.

Tover began to realize how annoying younger sisters could be.

Lourdes said little that morning, and Tover was torn between the urge to ask her how she was, and the desire to remain silent and distant from his captors. These people were his enemy, he reminded himself.

But then Lourdes yawned, and she looked so much like an old, tired lady, he couldn't drum up the energy to hate her.

“How's your other patient?”

“Which one?” Lourdes raised an eyebrow. “I have many patients, but I assume you mean the one who is keeping me up all night. She'll rally, I think, although last night was a rough one.” She yawned again and slowly went to work on her breakfast.

“What's wrong with her?” Tover asked. He took a bite of his muffin. Everything Ana had cooked so far had been delicious, but this was clearly a failure—the muffin was dry and powdery. He swallowed his bite quickly and put the muffin back down, trying to figure out how he would hide his distaste from Ana.

“She's had a severe reaction to her relining surgery. There isn't much we can do other than fight the body's instinct to repel the foreign nature of her new lungs. It's a dangerous procedure, and yet people still aren't being properly tested for rejection before going under the laser.”

“If it's so risky, why do it?” Tover asked.

Ana rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, please tell me you're not that much of an idiot.”

“Ana, your muffin tastes like shit.”

“Does it?” Her haughty expression crumpled, and she picked up her muffin and tasted it quickly. The look of hurt in her eyes squeezed Tover's heart, and he felt like an asshole.

But Ana didn't dwell on failure. She wrinkled her nose and spat out the muffin. “You're right. It tastes awful!” She shrugged and went back to her eggs. “Oh well. Cross that recipe off the list.”

Tover smiled.

“People who plan on living here on Carida after terraforming only have three choices—expensive cell-suppression therapy, surgery, or wearing a respirator the rest of their lives,” Ana explained. “A lot of people are trying the surgery because a few clinics are offering discounted procedures.”

“My patient is a perfect example of why people shouldn't rush into a surgical solution without proper testing beforehand,” Lourdes said. “She's ruined the way her body gets air. It'll be a miracle if she lives past the end of the harvest season.”

Ana and Lourdes both looked sullen. Tover needed to change the topic. “I remember hearing there were wildlife sanctuaries on Carida. Are there any nearby?”

Ana looked grateful for the change of topic. “Yeah, there's quite a few but most are a bit of a drive. Unless you wanted to jump there or something. But then you wouldn't know where to go, would you?”

Tover shrugged. “I jump people and goods to places I've never been to all the time.”

“So how do you know where things are?” Ana asked, mouth full.

“I can sense vibrations that give me information,” Tover said.

“So what stops you from jumping into the middle of a rock, or into someone?”

“I can feel the difference between space and substances other than air. I can also sense texture and distance.” He took a bite of the sausage on his plate, and the hot burst of spicy, succulent, fatty beef took his breath away. He stopped talking and simply enjoyed the food. “Jesus, Ana, your muffins may suck but this sausage is the best I've ever had.”

Her smile was so bright it stunned him. A part of his heart lurched.

“Can you tell where my friend Olivia is right now?” Ana asked.

Tover shook his head. “It isn't specific. I can tell where people are, but not who they are.” He frowned. “In fact, someone is right outside your front door.”

Both Ana and Lourdes swiveled to face the main entrance. Lourdes looked concerned, but when Cruz entered her expression instantly relaxed.

In contrast, Tover felt his entire body tense at the sight of him. Cruz walked into the kitchen but remained in the doorway, leaning one hip against the wall and crossing his arms.

Despite himself, Tover admired Cruz's casual good looks. He dressed in dark-green cargo pants and a white T-shirt. His skin had darkened on the planet, and his hair seemed to shine in the bright kitchen light.

Cruz didn't say anything. Lourdes glanced over to Tover as if looking for permission. “Have you eaten?” she asked Cruz.

Cruz nodded. He made eye contact with Tover. “Can you walk?”

Tover swallowed the harsh remarks he wanted to say. He could sense Lourdes's anxiety. “Yes.”

“I'd like to take you in to Villazul for an hour or so. I want to show you something.”

“I'm not going anywhere alone with you,” Tover said.

Cruz clenched his jaw.

“I can come!” Ana offered.

Cruz rolled his eyes. “No way.”

“I need to get some things at the market anyway. You can drop me off.”

“Ana, don't be an idiot,” Cruz snapped. “
Sabes que nos están mirando. Puedo hacer una excusa para llevarlo a cabo solo, pero no contigo. También, Peres va a estar allí. No creo que quieres estar en el mismo lugar que él.
”

Ana grimaced.

“What did he say?” Tover demanded.

Lourdes sighed. “It's not safe with los jefes watching us for her to go along.”

“And Peres is a jerk,” Ana added.

Tover had no idea what they'd said. He did know he didn't want to be alone with Cruz.

Cruz stared at him, hard. “I want to show you why I did what I did.”

“Why, so I can tell you it's all right? That it's fine you sold me a like a fucking whore?”

Lourdes and Ana immediately froze in silence.

Cruz's glance flickered to his mother. “Come outside and talk to me.”

“Fuck you. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to have anything to do with you, ever again.”

“Then go home.” Cruz said it not in an insulting way, but with almost a curious tone. “You can. You have to be strong enough by now.”

Tover didn't realize he'd reached up to the scar around his neck until he felt the hard ridge of ruined skin under his fingers. He paled instantly.

“Cruz, leave him alone,” Lourdes snapped. She stood beside Tover.

“He can go home, Mom.” Cruz watched Tover carefully. “Any time he wants. And yet he's still here. Why?”

It was difficult for Tover to breathe. Just thinking about making an orbifold seemed to bring the sensation of the pipe forced down his throat, the sensation of his hands trapped in those manacles. Vomit rose in his throat.

He stood, horrified he'd puke all over Ana's breakfast. He backed away from the table, stumbling.

He beelined for the bathroom and threw up Ana's delicious breakfast. Everything in his body hurt. Cold sweat broke out over his forehead.

“Honey, you okay in there?” he heard Lourdes's voice. He wished she would go away. He wished all of them would fucking leaving him alone.

Then again, leaving them was as simple as a thought. That hospital bed in Dadelus-Kaku Station was still empty. One quick jump, and there he would be.

But the hair rose on his arms, and he gagged. He now was incapable of doing the only thing he'd ever excelled at, and not because he physically couldn't—but because he had lost his mind.

He spent several minutes in the bathroom, waiting out Lourdes, who he could hear in the other room tidying up. Once he was sure she was gone, he struggled to his feet and brushed his teeth and washed his face. He glanced in the mirror but the sight of his own face made him sick so he looked away.

“Fucking pitiful.”

He walked back into his room and collapsed on the bed. He rested with his arm over his eyes. He heard the door open and someone quietly enter.

Tover knew it was Cruz, even without opening his eyes. Ana and Lourdes, as small as they were, stomped around the house like stone giants. Only Cruz moved with deliberate stealth.

“What's wrong with you?” Cruz asked quietly.

Tover didn't say anything for a long minute.

“I'm scared,” he said at last, sick to have admitted as much.

The silence lingered but Tover knew Cruz remained. “Thank you,” Cruz said, his voice sounding a little choked. “For saving my life back on DK Station.”

Tears filled Tover's eyes, and he blinked them shut beneath his arm. He waited until he had his emotions under control before lifting his arm off and making eye contact.

“I need to show you something,” Cruz said again. “If you want my sister or mother to join us, they will.”

Tover shook his head. “It's dangerous for them, isn't it?”

“Yes.”

“Then leave them out of it.”

Cruz looked relieved. “I promised my mother it would be a quick trip, and I live in fear of her wrath, so you can trust this promise.” He smiled a little.

Tover blinked at that smile. He felt heartbroken. “Fine.”

“Do you need help getting ready?”

“No. Get out.”

Cruz looked hurt for a moment, but then his steely, expressionless mask returned. “I'll meet you in the driveway.” He turned and left.

Tover didn't bother looking at himself in the mirror again, knowing nothing could be done about his despicable appearance. So he straightened his clothes, grabbed the ugly cane Lourdes lent him and walked slowly outside.

Cruz said nothing. He pulled on a pair of sunglasses and led the way toward one of the three vehicles Lourdes had called “naves” in the driveway.

Tover followed. He stumbled on a buckle in the cracked pavement, and Cruz's arm shot out to steady him. Tover shoved him back.

“Don't fucking touch me,” Tover warned.

Cruz's hands shot up. “Sorry.” He didn't try again, although he clenched and unclenched his jaw as he waited beside the nave for Tover to make his arduously slow way. Cruz opened the passenger door and hovered there as Tover sat down. The pain was bearable as long as he moved slowly and deliberately.

The journey from the front door had exhausted Tover, and he breathed heavily into the respirator, mouth sour with the taste.

“You okay?” Cruz asked. “You want to go back inside?”

“I'm fine,” Tover snapped. “Let's get this over with.”

Cruz hesitated. His hand reached up but he dropped it again. “Your respirator is crooked.”

Tover adjusted the clip himself and looked away. Cruz started the engine, but it was silent. Combustion engines didn't work on a planet that lacked oxygen and so the vehicle clearly worked on thermal-regenerative technology. Only the crackle of the massive, solid polyfoam tires made noise as they rolled over the red road of the Arcadio property.

The vehicle looked like some hybrid of an all-terrain, amphibious automobile and a boat. The large benchseat was wide but uncomfortable, suspended high above the tires, and the cabin was open, only a simple metal frame forming the structure. Cruz steered with a wheel and pedals, but the sound of electronic hydraulics revved quietly and the holo-panel flashed out information of their direction and the depth of the marshy ground they sank into.

Within moments of starting the vehicle, they were swallowed on either side by the insulin violets. Behind them, Tover heard the crackle of tires and saw the two guards who watched the house that morning follow in a similar vehicle.

The fields seemed to stretch for nearly a kilometer. When they broke through onto a main road, Tover finally saw a view of the verdant, swampy valley they were nestled in. Rich red soil lined the road but everything else was staggering shades of green. Individual fields of crops were delineated by the red soil roads, and an occasional house could be seen amongst the verdant plant life. There were few trees here, but up ahead toward the hills Tover saw what looked to be a jungle of variegated palms. Ivies crept across the road and were churned into mushy pulp by the silent vehicle. Orchid-like epiphytes clung to crops and trees alike, brilliant yellow barnacles in an ocean of vegetation. Even the sky was shockingly green, drifting patterns of blue shimmering in the distance.

Despite the sour weight of the atmosphere, it felt good to be outside. Living most of his life on stations and satellites gave Tover an appreciation for open space and fresh air, and when he visited colonial planets on his holidays, he always found the novelty of a breeze stirring to more than his hair. Even here, despite the alien atmosphere, he smelled differing scents, and sensed the wax and wane of a westerly wind, and the unevenness of natural heat from the nearby star. Unevenness defined planet life, and it seemed like something his body craved, a natural sensation of warmth and the flush of cold which exhilarated his spirit and renewed him.