The Silver Ship and the Sea by Brenda Cooper Read Free Book Online Page A

around me, looked to see Kayleen cradling Joseph.
    Flames licked hungrily at the bodies, rising against the dark sky until they blotted the stars from view. I made myself watch even though it hurt to see. The peculiar smell of burning flesh filled the air. The crowd murmured behind us, a jumbled weave of singing, babies crying, wails of pain, and the drums. Joseph and I were silent, watching the flames leap and dance until they blurred behind my tears. We stood that way, the four of us together, staring at the fire for hours, until it finally burned to red-hot ashes.

3
Jenna and the Paw-Cat
    As first light poured in the windows the next day, I answered a knock on the door. Stile stood awkwardly, holding two small red-clay urns filled with ashes from the fire. His eyes held a hint of cool appraisal as he handed them to me, one arm moving freely and the other one jerking and slow, a war wound. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
    “Thank you.”
    He nodded, turned, and walked quickly away without looking back.
    Joseph and I tied our white ribbons around the stout necks of the urns. I set them on the windowsill in my room. Someday, we would return our parents’ ashes to Fremont’s soil. For now, the containers were dour reminders of our loss.
    That afternoon, Nava and Tom moved armloads of their personal things into the house, into Steven and Therese’s old room. They felt wrong in the house; too taut, too driven, too cold. They provided for our needs, but the sole focus of conversation was recovery from the earthquake. I was glad they left early and returned late, overseeing the rebuilding from dawn to long after dusk. When they were home, we stayed in our rooms whenever we could.
    Joseph pleaded sick and stayed home for days, even though he now walked normally and no longer slept all day. Still sullen, he napped in his room, or took short walks, avoiding the daily life of Artistos. He continued to shun the data networks.
    I missed Joseph’s laughter as much as I missed Steven’s teasing and Therese’s gentle smile.
    On the morning of the third day after the funeral, Joseph and I were having a light breakfast before I went to work. Just as we were finishing, Nava came in and sat down across from Joseph. She had pulled her hair tight behind her head and her green eyes looked determined and intense. “Joseph, you need to work today. We need you.” She took a long sip of her habitual morning tea. “You can choose to work with Paloma and Kayleen on the data networks, or you can accept whatever other assignment I give you.”
    Joseph met her eyes and said evenly, “What else would you have me do?”
    She leaned toward him, her mouth drawn tight. Her words came out clipped and short. “Artistos’s safety depends on the early warning system you helped us develop. It is your duty to maintain it.”
    I held my breath, waiting for his response.
    His eyes stayed on hers as he said, “I can’t do it. I won’t.”
    She let out a short exasperated sigh. “Consider yourself reassigned to the builders guild until you change your mind. There’s a crew working on the water reclamation plant this morning.”
    I grimaced inwardly, but stayed out of the conversation. Force never worked well with Joseph; he needed time and patience.
    Bryan had the most strength, but we were all stronger than original humans. Joseph threw himself into the manual labor, working hard, perhaps burning away his losses in sweat.
    But he did not love it. His eyes never danced at the idea of work. He no longer drew diagrams of networks in his spare time or touched nodes purely because he could. Fixing sewers gave him a physical outlet for his loss, but it was not fun for him.
    To placate Nava some, I partnered with Kayleen and Paloma myself as they struggled to fix the data networks without leaving Artistos. Much of the work wasn’t Kayleen’s at all, but Paloma’s, using standard data readers. I knew the rhythms of repairing nets from being beside Joseph