Free Skye Object 3270a by Linda Nagata Page B

Chenzeme ships prowling menacingly between them, and beyond that . . . Well, beyond the nearest stars lay everything —all the other stars and dust clouds and black holes of the galaxy, and distant galaxies beyond that, and galactic clusters, and quasars, their light almost as old as the Universe itself. And time. Looking at ancient starlight was like looking back in time.
    Skye smiled, filled with reverent wonder. No wonder Devi had fallen in love with astronomy. In the night, everything can be seen.
    She was suddenly aware of Devi standing beside her, so close the heat of his body touched hers. The slowing pace of his breath was like the city breathing. “They’re out there somewhere,” he said, his voice low.
    â€œWho?” Her own voice no more than a whisper.
    â€œYour people. The other children from the great ship. Do you see? We had it all wrong. There was no Chenzeme warship. Your parents . . . they must have put you in the lifeboat to protect you from Compassion plague. They might have been like the rescuers at Nanda Wes. They might have thought that you—that all the children—had a resistance to the plague. So they put you aboard lifeboats, and sent you toward Deception Well, hoping that a compassionate people would find you, and raise you, after they were gone.”
    Had it been that way? She glanced at him. Jem still balanced on his shoulder, though the little dokey looked frightened. His claws dug into Devi’s shirt and his tail swished. Devi absently stroked Jem’s chest. Sweat glistened on his cheeks as he stared into the abyss.
    Skye said, “So there could be hundreds, thousands of other children out there. Every child from the great ship. Why haven’t we seen them? Why haven’t we seen their solar sails?”
    â€œI don’t know. It’s a mystery. There may be some clue aboard the lifeboat.”
    She shook her head. The lifeboat was far away. “Nothing was ever found. Whatever records it once carried, were hidden, or erased.”
    â€œStill, other lifeboats have to be out there. If it wasn’t a Chenzeme warship . . .”
    Skye reached up to stroke Jem’s soft fur. “If it wasn’t a warship, then every lifeboat should have survived. But Devi, everyone of them will be a plague carrier . . . like me.”
    He turned to her and nodded grimly. Jem took that moment to scamper down his arm and drop to the ground. The dokey’s claws clicked against the pavilion as it paced, sniffing at the night air. Devi watched his pet for a few seconds. Then he leaned against the invisible wall, and slid down until he was sitting halfway over nothing. “Ord’s right, you know. The monkey house might cure it. The trouble is—”
    â€œI know. Or, I think I can guess. If the doctors can’t cure it—”
    â€œEveryone of those kids is doomed. City authority won’t pick them up if they’re plague carriers.”
    Skye sat down beside him, smoothing her skirt over her knees. The elation she had felt was still with her, but quieter now, like a stream that has left the rapids to flow unruffled over smooth, round stones and past the bright orange scales of koi fish. “You’re not afraid of me.”
    â€œI’m afraid for   you.” Devi’s voice was low and rough. “There’s a third thing that could happen.”
    Jem came over, and she stroked the dokey’s soft fur. “Tell me.”
    â€œIf the monkey house can’t cure you, the doctors still might find a way to control the plague by controlling your metabolism—never letting you grow quite all the way up.”
    â€œYou mean they could use medical Makers to undo all my body’s growing.” She shuddered. It would be like an artist every night deleting all the colors that had been summoned that day into her painting, every night erasing a fresh layer of meaning from her life’s work. Skye gazed at the palm