Pilgrims Read online

  When the parents told her that she’d get to swim, Merry crowed with joy and held Jake’s hand as they trotted downstairs.

  Kirkwall nodded at Merry and said, “What’s up?”

  “She just wants to swim for fifteen minutes,” Jake said.

  Kirkwall looked like he wanted to argue, but Jake led the girl past him to the pool. When she jumped into the water, Jake glanced at the viewing window. Her parents were standing at one side and smiling, holding each other’s’ hands. Jake quickly looked away, embarrassed, as if he’d intruded on a private moment.

  Jake dove into the water and sat on the pool’s bottom, thinking. This was the problem with coming back to Rison. Here, he was a Quad-de, and the Quad-de were always statesmen. A Quad-de would always sacrifice for the greater good. They were a class set apart. He wanted to be like Swann and always think of others first. Instead, he was half human, and his human half didn’t want to sacrifice anything.

  Above him, Merry’s scrawny legs mokwa together, and she swam laps as if her life depended on it. She wasn’t wasting a single second of swim time.

  Meanwhile, Captain Bulmer and Dr. Mangot swam lazy laps together, pausing often to talk and laugh. During the trip from Earth, they had renewed an old friendship. They’d attended school together, but careers took them different directions. Captain Bulmer was the one most smitten, following Dr. Mangot with his eyes when she wasn’t looking. Jake thought Dr. Mangot was too hard-hearted to ever notice. She’d been harsh in her dealings with his family, and as far as he could tell, she never softened.

  Merry’s father did pick her up at the quarter hour. He bowed to Jake and said, “Thank you, Jake Quad-de. I am Nick Bruce. Your kindness to my Merry Bruce, it won’t be forgotten.”

  Jake nodded, and with perfect manners said, “Just doing what anyone else would do.”

  Always deflect praise, his mother had ingrained in him.

  “No,” Nick Bruce said solemnly. “Not everyone would do it. But you’re a Quad-de. That’s why I was hopeful enough to ask.”

  Don’t put me on a pedestal, Jake thought. I’m not a real Quad-de. He was just a test-tube baby who had the good fortune to have Swann as a step-father. On Earth, he’d earned a measure of respect from Mom and Dad. But that was nothing to what was expected of a Quad-de. Jake didn’t think he’d ever live up to Swann’s reputation or expectations.

  The Smugglers

  The Eagle 10 spaceship was halfway between the Cadee Moon Base and the Killian Spaceport, which was situated on the southern edge of the Tizzalurian Plateau. Jake pressed his nose against the small, thick window, and watched Rison grow larger and larger.

  “How long since you’ve been home?” Dr. Mangot asked. She was pressed against the window beside her seat, engrossed in her first look at Rison. A week before she boarded this spaceship, she hadn’t even given Rison a second thought. She was a Phoke. In fact, just a few weeks ago, no one on Earth even knew the Phoke, the mermen and mermaids of the Earth’s seas, existed. As a Phoke leader, it’d been a whirlwind month as they announced their presence to the world. As a respected doctor, she’d been busy and happy in her work. Now, she was intently focused on finding the umjaadi organism that was causing the Phoke to be sick. It was an impossible task, of course, but one born of desperation.

  What will she think of Rison? Jake wondered.

  He longed for Em to be here so he could show her the planet. He’d met Em on Bainbridge Island at a coffee shop and had been smitten immediately. Six weeks ago, when she became sick, her birth family stepped in and took her to the Phoke city in the North Sea, Aberforth Hills. Em discovered that her mother was half-Phoke. Em was the first Phoke to be infected by the Risonian umjaadi organism. She was the reason Jake was on this medical mission. He had vowed to find a cure for her.

  “It’s been three years since I’ve been home,” he told Mangot. “I know things have changed, but I’m hoping I can still get some wolkev ice cream from the street vendors!”

  Mangot grimaced and shook her head. “Wolkev! You’re a one-track stomach.”

  “Well, I can find you some nice grilled Risonian bugs-on-a-stick, if you’d rather. Those sell well on the street.”

  “Ugh!” Dr. Mangot rolled her eyes and returned to her window.

  Jake stared at the planet below. His anticipation was like a rising tide that threatened to flood his emotions. He struggled to figure out why he felt overwhelmed. He should be comfortable coming home to Rison, but somehow Earth had changed him. He’d grown up in the last three years, too. That meant he should be old enough to handle this homecoming smoothly.

  He thought of David Gordon, his Risonian friend on Earth who was part of a sleeper cell and had never known anything but Earth. David was a natural-born politician and would’ve been at home in the Quad-de family. Even now, he was preparing to do an internship with Jake’s mom, the Risonian Ambassador. If David was here, he’d be calm and prepared to face anything.

  Maybe it was the uncertainty that bothered Jake the most. The worry over the planet, combined with the worry about seeing his family after so long—his insides were unsteady, wobbly. The other Earthlings wouldn’t understand, not even Dad, who had been to Rison many times. They weren’t born on Rison, hadn’t lived on Rison all their lives—to them, it was just a watery planet. But to Jake, it was home.

  Far below their spaceship, volcanic smoke smudged the clouds, making the atmosphere murky. In a determinedly steady voice, Jake pointed out to Dr. Mangot the Ja-Ram Volcano that glowed red from lava trickling down its sides. He explained that it was perfectly normal. The massive Tizzalurian Plateau was the result of centuries of continuous flow from this volcano.

  But then he fell silent. What could he say about the red glow from the other volcanoes that spotted the plateau? He counted. Twelve. Fifteen. A couple dozen now, where there used to be just the Ja-Ram. A chill ran down his spine.

  Despite the gloomy landscape, his heart beat faster in anticipation because soon he’d see Swann. Jake looked at his size ten boots and his long legs that filled the aisle. He’d grown four inches in the last three years. He ran a hand across his chin and felt the soft stubble. At fourteen—almost fifteen—he’d soon have to start shaving regularly, a gift from his biological Earth father. Most Tizzalurians had smooth faces that didn’t require shaving, and beards were rare. Only in the Bo-see Coalition did Risonians have enough facial hair for a beard.

  Will Swann even recognize me? Will I be too much like the Earthlings?

  Suddenly, the spaceship jerked and stopped.

  Jake leaned forward toward the cockpit, straining to hear what was going on.

  Dad’s voice: “Killian Spaceport, come in.”

  Then, Captain Bulmer: “I don’t understand Risonian. This is the Earth vessel, Eagle 10. We carry representatives from Earth. Do you read?”

  Jake unbuckled and moved quickly to the cockpit to reach over Captain Bulmer and flip a switch to put the communications on speaker. Captain Bulmer squirmed uncomfortably in the co-pilot’s seat. He was tall, over six foot, and the seat wouldn’t move far enough back to accommodate his legs.

  A voice spoke in Risonian: “Repeat: This is the Fewtrell Freedom Fighters. You will pay a tariff of 10,000 Earth U.S. dollars to land on Rison. We have blocked all your communications with Rison. We are armed and will destroy your vessel unless you comply.”

  Jake sucked in breath sharply. The Fewtrells were a notorious pirate group based in the Bo-See Coalition, and they regularly claimed responsibility for terrorist acts. But to attack a ship that Earthlings were on? A ship trying to land, trying to come down to a doomed planet?

  “Dad, they’re smugglers turned opportunists! Everyone expects to pay to leave the planet.” He quickly explained the demand and the reputation of the Fewtrells. “But to stop our ship while coming down is an insult!”

  Dr. Mangot, who filled the cockpit doorway, raised an eyebrow. “You’re outraged that they stop us on the way down, but you consider it no
rmal to pay to leave the planet?”

  Mangot’s heavy floral perfume made Jake cringe. For the last three days, she’d been trying to smother the overpowering smell created by too many people crammed into too small a space. For Jake, the clash of smells was worse than either alone. He shrugged at her and said, “You should only pay once. It may not make sense to you, but it’s normal for us.”

  “Tell them that we are a diplomatic vessel and carry no weapons,” Dad said.

  Jake translated the message into Risonian and transmitted, but immediately the Fewtrells responded: “We care nothing for your problems. You’ll either transfer the money or we’ll shoot you down. Just as you shot down our vessel of peace, the Fullex. We are sending the information for the funds transfer. When we confirm your deposit, we’ll allow you to land.”

  The Fullex incident meant little to the Earthlings in the crew, but for Jake it loomed as a huge tragedy. 500 Risonians had been evacuating to Earth, despite a ban on their arrival. The European Union shot them out of orbit, killing everyone on board. David Gordon’s aunt, had been the lead negotiator and politician aboard the Fullex. If the Fewtrells wanted revenge, they had 500 good reasons.

  Dr. Mangot said, “How do we know they’ll do what they say?”

  She was staring through a window at a ship that hung in space beside them. It was a dark metal and looked the worse for wear, with silver slashes in the metal’s finish that spoke of battle. Mounted on the exterior were weapons, probably lasers. Their own ship carried no weapons because they were on a diplomatic mission.

  With a shrug, Jake said, “We don’t know if they’ll keep their word. The Fewtrells have a reputation, though. I’d say we should pay.”

  The vessel didn’t look like any Risonian spaceships that Jake had ever seen. There had been rumors, though, about smugglers in the south seas who were secretly building a fleet. Obviously, their fleet was a reality.

  Mangot said in a small voice. “Does this happen all the time on Rison? Maybe I’m sorry I left Earth.” She was a sturdy woman and looked distinguished in her militia uniform. Her long, thick hair was pulled into a severe bun at the nape of her neck.

  Jake ignored her and asked Dad. “Do we have the funds?”

  “Not in the Cadee banks,” Dad said. “We’d have to transfer from Earth.”

  “How long?” Jake asked.

  “Even with ansibles, communication will take a couple hours,” Captain Bulmer said.

  Dad nodded with his chin at Jake. “Tell them, we need five hours. And we need ansible communications. They can’t block the ansible.”

  Jake relayed the message and waited.

  Silence.

  A brilliant flash lit up the cockpit window. Jake rubbed his eyes against the after-vision of Dad and Captain Bulmer’s heads in silhouette against the glare.

  “What was that?” Mangot yelled.

  “We’re fine. We’re fine,” Dad said. “No damage.”

  Captain Bulmer’s face was grim, his mouth tight. He raised a hand to his mouth to chew on a fingernail. “Laser weaponry. They’re letting us know that they are serious.”

  The communications speakers crackled. “You have three hours.”

  Silence.

  Dr. Mangot said the obvious: “They mean business.”

  Dad was already bent over the ansible, tuning the receivers toward Earth. His normally tanned skin had turned pale during the crossing to Rison. But he’d lifted weights and used the ship’s treadmill to run, so he was just as fit as usual. He talked to Jake’s mom, Ambassador Dayexi Quad-de, and arranged for the funds to be transferred to an untraceable Swiss account. And no doubt, the money would be immediately transferred to other secret accounts. Then they waited for the terrorists to confirm the money transfer.

  Dr. Mangot and Jake returned to their seats to wait. He heard the rumble of Dad and Captain Bulmer talking, but Jake could do nothing. Instead, he glowered at the dark ship in the distance. Swann had to know that the Fewtrells were active, so why hadn’t he warned them? These smugglers had nerve, extracting illegal tariffs from a Quad-de! And in U.S. dollars! Had this world gone mad?

  Surely Mom had turned around and called Swann on the ansible. Jake doubted Swann could do anything from the surface. They still had to pay the ransom and hope that it really bought them a safe passage. Jake felt a slow rage building, but shoved back the rebellious thoughts. For now, they had to be peacemakers.

  In less than an hour, they received the word: “Tariff received. Pleasure doing business with you.”

  Out the window, Jake saw the dark spaceship drop away and speed toward the southern hemisphere. Bo-See smugglers, for sure, Jake thought bitterly.

  Almost immediately, the Killian Spaceport called. They’d received round-about news from Earth’s ambassador that Eagle 10 had been delayed. They were pleased now to welcome the Earth vessel to the Killian Spaceport.

  With the crisis over, Jake let himself relax enough to feel the outrage he’d held in check. He no longer wanted to play tourist guide for Dr. Mangot. Instead, he huddled against the bulkhead, forehead against the window, and scowled at the volcanoes that dotted his lands. Dark columns of smoke mixed with white steam clouds, with red fires winking here and there. He barely recognized the landscape.

  Rison didn’t have much time left.

  Those smugglers would get off Rison in their fancy spaceship and would live on Earth as millionaires. They probably charged ten times that amount to leave the planet.

  Perhaps this whole medical mission had been doomed from the start. In a world gone crazy, how could they find the umjaadi starfish, capture them, and do the medical research necessary to find a cure? But they had to try because Em’s life depended on them finding a cure for the umjaadi illness. He felt a resolve harden inside, and he sat up straighter. He’d promised Em to find her a cure, and that’s what he meant to do. Smugglers or not.

  Welcome Home

  Jake stepped off the Eagle 10 and searched eagerly for Swann. In Earth’s measurements, Swann was six foot ten inches, easy to spot in a crowd.

  Nothing.

  And then, “Norio!”

  Right before him was Norio Tombs. Shorter, maybe five foot ten inches, Norio was a long-time family servant—well, Jake didn’t know what to call him in Earth terms. He served the Quad-de family, but he was more like a brother or uncle to Jake. A part of his extended family. A welcome sight!

  “Jake! Finally!” Norio said.

  The familiar Risonian voice made Jake grin. After so long on Earth, looking only at humans, he was surprised at how Norio’s nose ridges made him look alien. Also, his angular face would be abnormal on Earth. Norio stepped forward, and they hugged, clapping each other on the back. A swirl of dust shook loose from Norio’s jacket, and Jake sneezed. Norio smelled smoky. It was mid-afternoon, dark and chilly. They would need to borrow warmer clothes. Jake frowned. It was mid-summer in the northern hemisphere. They should be sweating.

  Jake looked beyond Norio and raised an eyebrow. “Swann?” Like on Cadee, it was easy to slip back into the Risonian language, like shifting from air breathing to water breathing. It felt so natural and right.

  Norio shook his head and grimaced. “Not here. I’m to take you to the estate. He’s coming as fast as he can.”

  Frustration shot through Jake. He’d waited so long to see Swann, he didn’t think he could possibly wait another hour. But he must. That thought made Jake’s frown slide into a smoldering anger, but he knew that he must slip into the role of a diplomat’s child. Work always came first, children second. The good of the country first. Family last. If Mom was bad about this, Swann was the ultimate offender.

  “He was here.” Norio tried to soothe the old pain. “But when you were delayed, he had other affairs to tend to.”

  Anger tinged with bitterness threatened to overwhelm Jake. He felt like a pawn in the Earth chess game. Unimportant and someone easily sacrificed.

  Jake pushed aside his anger, burying his disappointm
ent as he always had. To his surprise, it was easy to ignore his anger. Maybe the three years away had turned the pain into a dull niggling rather than a sharp throbbing. Or maybe he’d just grown up some and understood Swann’s job better. Or maybe he’d slowly boarded up that spot inside that only Swann could hurt. Maybe he no longer gave Swann the permission needed to rip through him emotionally. Thinking about Swann was making his head hurt.

  “Swann’s not here. Typical of a Quad-de,” he muttered to Norio, but without conviction. “OK. Let’s go home.”

  He nodded to the rest of the party, who picked up various bags. Dad carried three bags slung over his shoulders and tilted under the weight of a large suitcase in his right hand. Medical equipment weighed down Dr. Mangot, while Captain Bulmer was left to shoulder Mangot’s luggage as well as his own. Even with Norio picking up a load, Jake struggled to balance three suitcases.

  “This way,” Norio said. He led them to the curb where the Prime Minister’s limousine waited. Like Earth’s cars, it was a motor-driven vehicle, but it stretched longer and taller to accommodate the typical Risonian.

  Dad whistled in appreciation, but Jake just shrugged. He’d never motored across town any other way. They loaded the bags into the limo’s luggage area. Jake insisted on sitting in front with Norio. That let the others spread out in back. A window separated the front and back, and that suited Jake. Dad knew some Risonian, which meant that speaking in that language alone couldn’t give Jake a private conversation. And Jake had a question for Norio.

  “How’s Swann? Is he holding up?” He held his breath, worried.

  “Things are bad,” Norio said. He maneuvered the car out of the spaceport and waved at the city. “And Swann won’t leave.” His voice was bitter. “Like others, I’ve served your family for over 30 years, and we expected Swann would reward us by evacuating us early.” He shook his head and turned to Jake. “If he wants to stay behind, fine. But don’t make us. Will you talk to him?”