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far and as tight as he could while the wind yanked hard at it. The boom swung
around and banged. When Jerome tied it down, Pepper pulled in the oars and
took the tiller with the mainsheet in his hand. He pulled it in, bringing the
boom and sail in closer to the boat.
Lucita tilted over and picked up speed. Pepper, still calm and serious, sailed
them away from the waterfront.
The sun beat down on them. Pepper hadn't said a word in the last twenty
minutes; he lay against the side of the cockpit, one leg steering them upwind,
one arm in his jacket, the other trailing in the water. They weren't really
going anywhere, just making three legs of a triangle around and around some
imaginary spot in the ocean.
Occasionally Pepper would take out his rubber binoculars and look back at
Brungstun.
At one point they'd come near the light water of Severun's Reef, but without
needing a warning, Pepper had tacked hard, the boom swinging violently as the
wind eased up on it. He must have known the harbor well.
A dark knot inside Jerome kept threatening more tears. He'd left his mother in
Brungstun to die and his dad trapped at the house. He'd seen people die! Get
shot. Captured by Azteca. He shivered. The image of blood dripping into the
street sewer grate as if it were only so much waste-water, that image he felt
he would never shake as long as he lived.
He couldn't do anything. He had never felt so helpless as he did now.
"How you do it?" Jerome asked Pepper.
"What?" Pepper blinked his gray eyes and looked around.
"Stay calm like that."
"Damned if I know," Pepper muttered. "The only other choice is running around
screaming." He scanned the horizon. "Doesn't look like anyone else made it out
of the docks."
That was what they had been waiting for.
Pepper shifted and adjusted the tiller.
Lucita's tiny bow aimed for Frenchi Reef.
"Where you from?" Jerome asked. "Out by Capitol City?"
Pepper shook his head. "Further."
"How much further?"
"What did you learn about in school about where we all came from?"
In school? School taught him the same tale his mother told him.
"We came from the worm's hole, up in the sky," Jerome said. "You come from the
worm's hole?"
Pepper nodded. "We came from different places. Some settled in orbit. Others
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settled up north. Many people from the Caribbean came here to Nanagada,
looking for some nice equatorial sun and peace. We were just a tiny bunch of
refugee camps and lake fishing villages, hoping we could hide in this far-out
corner and be left alone." Pepper stretched, and the bench beneath him bowed
slightly. He eyed the water, then continued, "Very few on Earth knew we were
here. Hell, some people in orbit didn't even know about all the islanders
along the coast and jungle. Better times," he sighed. "Before the worm-hole
was destroyed."
Pepper talked as if he had seen these times firsthand.
"They say the old-father didn't survive them times, just like the machines,"
Jerome said. "How come you here?"
"They lie," Pepper said. "Those of us well protected, those who knew what was
about to happen, survived while the Pulse, nukes, and engineered diseases took
everyone else. A few survived: some
Teotl, Loa, and others like me. Many marooned in hardened escape pods. Three
hundred years of floating in space, though, that'll screw you up." He snorted.
"Here's the result around us. Mostly only on-planet islanders survived."
"And Azteca."
"Yes, them too. When I left, the Azteca were religious fanatics who worshiped
the Teotl. Who started breeding and using them as cheap, savage troops. The
Teotl love using our weaknesses against us."
Pepper shook his head. "I hope you all have the resources to buck them off the
mountains."
The conversation had returned to things that made sense to Jerome.
"Most of the mongoose-men up in Mafolie Pass, or back around Capitol City
them," he said. This was common knowledge. There were squads scattered all
throughout the mountains and lands.
Pepper leaned over and splashed some salt water on his face.
"What we doing now?" Jerome asked. "Hiding on Frenchi Island?"
"No. I'm dropping you off. Giving myself some time to think. Then I need to
start looking for John."
Jerome swallowed. Pepper had saved his life, and he seemed to be honest. "Mr.
Pepper." Pepper raised an eyebrow. "I fibbed you. I know where John deBrun
is."
"You seemed to be holding something back."
"He . . ." Jerome's voice quivered. "That's my dad, see? He in the house,
outside town, last night."
Jerome looked down at the brackish water sloshing about the boards by his
feet.
Pepper hit the seat with a fist "That complicates things."
"I'm . . . sorry."
Pepper leaned forward and looked at Jerome, straight in his eyes. "I never
would have taken John for the settling-down kind."
Jerome avoided the gray eyes. Maybe he should tell Pepper about his dad's
memory loss. Dad and his mother did their best to hide it from him, but he
picked it up from their whispered conversations when they thought he wasn't
listening. And the way she looked at Dad's paintings sometimes. As if they
scared her.
But that was something personal. Jerome figured his dad and Pepper could sort
that out if they ever met.
If his dad was alive.
Pepper adjusted the tiller. "Tell me what your dad looks like. Describe him to
me. I haven't seen him in a long time."
Jerome struggled. Dad was just dad. But he did his best and told Pepper about
Mom, Dad, his family, and the airship that had floated into the trees behind
their house. When he finished telling Pepper about
Dad's hook, Pepper turned his attention back to sailing, which relieved
Jerome. He wanted to go sit on the bow and pretend he was alone on the boat.
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Frenchi stood waiting when
Lucita's bow struck the sand. Troy walked forward. "Something wrong?"
he asked. "Ms. Smith say she see smoke from Brungstun when she was out [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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