ONE HUNDRED SIXTY-EIGHT: Vantage Points

ONE HUNDRED SIXTY-EIGHT: Vantage Points

168

******

Haoyu sat backwards in the desk chair, his arms propped on the backrest while he watched Alden take a turtleneck from his closet and fold it. “How do you avoid getting lost?”

Lexi, leaning against the door frame, groaned. “He tells us he’s going to sleep over at Matadero, and your first question is how he finds the place?”

I need my uniform, too.

Alden reached for the hanger. “The wizard who’s been healing me is at Matadero. It’s more convenient for him if I’m there.”

Esh-erdi had said it was fine to blame his housing arrangements on Porti-loth.

“I don’t think I’ll be staying there much longer.” They’d said a few days, and it had already been a few. “And I’m not going to get lost because the System is willing to give me directions if I ask for them.”

“Nice,” said Haoyu. “Next time one of my parents goes there, I’m going to tell them they’re no big deal. Even sixteen-year-olds can hang out at the cube if they want. What’s it like?”

Alden stuffed a pair of sweatpants into his bag. “It’s pretty normal inside. The parts I’ve seen, anyway. I’m just staying in a room. There’s a cafeteria.”

Haoyu smiled. “I shouldn’t have asked. Mom and Dad can’t tell me much more than that either.”

“You’re getting away with so much peculiarity right now just because everything else is insane, too,” Lexi said. “Everyone’s either got their own drama to deal with, or they’re distracted by the fact that a girl in our class warned SkySea about the Submerger boat.”

“Yeah. I need to watch all the news,” said Alden. “I missed hearing about Maricel.”

“How?” Haoyu asked. “It’s been everywhere.”

“I was visiting...that person Lexi wants me to call my elderly aunt.”

After a long pause, the two of them spoke at the same time.

“At Matadero?” asked Haoyu.

“Of course you were.”

“On Artona I,” said Alden. “My elderly aunt was worried about me after what happened and invited me over. It was actually a really good reset.”

Haoyu laughed at the look on Lexi’s face.

“Anyway, that’s where I’ve been and where I’m going. Enough about me. How’s your family, Lexi? Did you get a chance to salvage stuff from your apartment? Is your boat still on the roof?”

******

Halfway between Anesidora and Matadero, ten meters above the crests of the waves, Alden sat in the center of a green flying platform, watching the horizon. The sun was setting. He didn’t want to fly in the dark, so he would have to move on soon. But for now, for these few minutes, there was something about this spot that had made him pause his flight toward the cube.

He thought about how he could point the finger with the driving ring on it in one direction and be back on campus with Haoyu and with Lexi.

Or I can point it west, and be surrounded by wizards.

A foregone conclusion this evening, since he’d already promised Porti-loth he’d come back and submit to a final mud potion treatment. But there was still something about this moment and this place.

Tomorrow was Thanksgiving. It was one of the more lightly celebrated holidays on the island, even when everyone wasn’t recovering from a disaster. But Alden had gotten an invitation for a feast at the girls’ apartment, so he was looking forward to it.

He was wondering if it would be appropriate for him to bring food. Connie was cooking something for Brodie’s family. Brodie’s family didn’t have an S-rank cooking Rabbit, though. He’d figure it out tomorrow morning.

Then Friday was duels again. Then he had a weekend with no firm plans.

December. Christmas. New Year.

He thought he would see Stuart a few times between now and the end of the year. He would be scheduling Alden’s first meeting with the mind healer. As soon as possible, he’d said, and that probably meant very soon, considering who he was.

The talks with Stuart and with her were good.

He felt like he’d regained some of the stability he’d lost on Friday night. Like he’d been given a little patch of solid ground to stand on. And if I can have more of that, if a mind healer can help, that will make the next step possible, won’t it?

A way out of the quicksand.

It can be a start.

“Hey, System,” he said. “Call Boe.”

Boe answered in just a few seconds. He was standing with his back to the bathroom mirror, and in the reflection, Alden could see a layer of white foam oozing down the shower wall.

“What’s up?” Boe asked.

“Me. Currently flying over open ocean on the magic nonagon I sent you pictures of. Happy Almost Turkey Day.”

“You too. What was with your last few text messages, though? Did you forget how to write short ones?”

Yeah. I thought he would wonder about that.

“I was away from Earth a little while,” Alden said in the most casual tone he could manage. “I wanted to keep in touch, but I couldn’t bring myself to pay the messaging fee for anything less than novel-length.”

Boe actually took a step forward. “Why were you off-planet? You can’t be summoned yet, right? Was it something to do with—?”

“I’m fine. It was a social trip to Artona I, not a summoning or anything bad. I went to visit the friend who helps me keep in touch with Kibby.”

“Stuart.”

“You remember.”

Boe’s brows pinched together. “The name of your wizard phone buddy? Yes. Did you think I was going to let that one slip my mind? You just...go to his house now?”

“He invited me,” said Alden. “He was worried after everything that happened. It was honestly great to get away from Anesidora for a while and reset. Distance can give you perspective.”

Boe took a second to answer. “Well, you can’t get much more distance than that.”

“You’re out of school until Monday, right?” Alden asked. “How’s your return to life going? And what are you going to do for Thanksgiving? Other than clean the shower.”

“There was enough mildew on the grout that I was worried about it evolving into an intelligent life form.” Boe pushed up his glasses. The frames Dragon Rabbit had chosen looked good. “Jeremy invited me over for lunch tomorrow, but it’s a family time. I’ll probably just—”

“You should go. His parents do postcard-perfect holidays. I bet the turkey has those little paper chef hats on its leg bones and everything.”

“I don’t think—”

“You do think. You’re overthinking. A wise man once said, ‘Don’t overthink. Overdo.’ There will be tons of people at Jeremy’s. One more won’t be an imposition for his family.”

“What wise man saidthat?”

Alden ignored the question. “If I call you tomorrow and you aren’t enjoying a food coma, I’ll feel sorry for you.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“At least go tell Jeremy Happy Thanksgiving and take a to-go plate.”

“Maybe.”

Alden nodded. “I really just called to say hi. And show off my ride. And tell you I’m in the process of making plans for the next few months, and those plans include zero sticking my neck out—unless demons start falling from the sky on campus or something—so you have plenty of time to catch up. You’re welcome.”

Boe pointed a squirt bottle at him. “You should be banned from mentioning hypothetical disaster scenarios.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m positive you just doomed an entire campus by saying that.”

Alden gasped in mock outrage.

“What do your plans include, if sticking your neck out didn’t make the list?”

“I am...going to sort myself out up here.” He tapped his own temple. “And I’m going to try to calm down and make the right choices.”

“About what?”

“Everything that comes at me really,” said Alden. “The future. Being an Avowed. My class schedule for next semester. Whether or not to offer up a dish for a friendly Thanksgiving supper.”

“All equally important.” Boe tilted his head. “Hey...was the flood situation worse than you let on?”

Alden considered putting off explaining again, but only for a moment. “It was. I was with someone who got hurt badly, and I thought I could get us both somewhere safe. But it just became more and more impossible with every step I took.”

Boe didn’t say anything.

“It wasn’t like before,” said Alden. “Adrenaline was a much larger factor in my decision making. And I had time to get to know the person a little before the situation spiraled out of control. She helped me out, too. The parts that look too risky or insane now...I wasn’t in a state of mind where I could calmly judge them, then.”

He waited, holding his breath.

“Just one?” Boe finally asked.

He turned the television off.

On the personal scale, he thought, it’s a tragedy.

The distance and angle from which you observed a moment changed the story. Like when he’d been shown the different views of himself on that rooftop, about to be crushed by the wave.

He wondered what the Primary thought of it all, if anyone had even decided to bother him with the news yet.

He wondered what was going through Maricel’s mind. He’d sent her a simple, “Hope you’re all right,” and she’d answered with an equally simple. “I’m okay. Thank you.”

He wondered about Joe and Principal Saleh and Esh-erdi.

He even wondered about the wizard who had decided, for some reason, to make a more powerful, longer lasting Fragile Atmosphere than their people’s Contract with Earth required. That was what the Artonans said had allowed Mina to survive—magical craftsmanship beyond the standard. One of the SAL members on the boat who’d used her own signing bonus hadn’t made it.

What scale was that wizard thinking on? What angle were they looking from?

It could have been anything.

‘I am saving someone’s life. I am showcasing my pride as a craftsman and an Artonan. I am following the path of higher onus.’

Or, maybe, ‘I am thinking about the universe and how fragile all of us are. One day, the Avowed who wears this might be needed.’

******

“Succotash?” Alden stepped out of the elevator onto the floor of the hospital where Porti-loth’s makeshift healing grove could be found. He was going to return the potion thermos to the healer with his thanks and never speak to anyone of the giant fart that had scared him awake from a peaceful slumber at four AM.

I needed to get up early anyway.

He’d decided that having a special diet tilted him farther into the “bring a side dish” category than not. And he kind of wanted to make it feel like a real holiday.

“It looks like it’s vegan if you leave out the bacon grease,” Connie said. She was on the sofa with a bottled coffee in one hand and her mother’s recipe book in the other. Alden had woken her up and asked her to look through it for him. “Lima beans, corn...”

“Yummy?” Alden asked.

“Looks like it to me.”

“Thanks, Aunt Connie. Send me a picture of it. Happy Thanksgiving, and...good luck with that mac and cheese you’re making.”

The picture came less than a minute later, and he stopped walking down the hall to study it. A handwritten recipe from my grandmother.

With a couple of stains on the paper and a note about how simmerblue would be good if you didn’t like sage or thyme, it looked like an artifact from someone else’s life.

And what the heck is simmerblue?

Alien import probably. They went in and out of fashion.

I won’t be using that, thanks. Earth food only for the next couple of—

A small gasp made him look around.

An Artonan had just opened the door of the last room he’d passed. She was wearing a scratchy-looking, knitted, knee-length sack, with things that were either nuts or rocks stitched onto it. A Porti-loth creation, if Alden guessed correctly. Her long purple hair had been shaved off, but it had already grown out a couple of inches.

“Zeridee!” he said. “I’m so happy to see you. Finally. Are you all right?”

For a second, he worried this reunion was going to be a repeat of the situation with Ro-den. Zeridee looked alarmed at the sight of him.

But then she threw open the door and bowed low. “Alden Ryeh-bt, I am so sor—“

“Don’t do that!” an angry healer’s voice sounded from the “grove” down the hall. “Stop it! Stop shaking your brain!”

Zeridee righted herself. Slowly. Then she glanced down the hall with a frown.

Assuming there was some kind of monitoring spell allowing Porti-loth to watch the hall, or maybe just mundane tech, Alden held up the thermos. “I brought this back. Thank you for the potion.”

“Keep it!” shouted Porti-loth. “Humans made it in Tennessee. Like you were made. Drink from it often.”

At this rate, I’m going to start wondering if everything that wasn’t made in one specific U.S. state is slightly unhealthy for me.

“You were going somewhere,” Zeridee said to Alden. Her English was as good as he remembered, though he’d spoken so much Artonan to Artonans over the past couple of days that it sounded odd. “I’m sorry to interrupt you on your way.”

Alden waved his new thermos. “I was just returning this and thanking Porti-loth and apologizing to Porti-loth for my bad food choices again—”

“You should apologize!” Porti-loth announced.

“—and hoping I might catch a glimpse of you, actually. They told me you would be all right, but I wanted to see for myself. And...say hello.”

Ask you if you’re mad at me for being so stubborn. Apologize for what you went through. Thank you for saving me in the greenhouse.

She was blinking at him. Her brown eye rings were gone. He wondered if Porti-loth was against artificial implants while he was doing the whole traditional nature healing thing.

“I’m well,” said Zeridee.

“Ha!” Porti-loth shouted.

Zeridee sighed. “Would you like to come in? My room is not the most comfortable place for a meeting, but—”

Alden was already stepping toward the door.

She stood aside and let him enter. The hospital room was similar in layout to his own, but many of the furnishings were made of organic materials. The bed was wood. The table was, too, with a circle of cloudy crystal set into the top that reminded Alden of the class trading table in the consulate.

He stood beside it while Zeridee stood with her back to the door. They didn’t speak for a few moments.

Alden caved to the awkwardness first. “I didn’t have much to say,” he admitted, turning the thermos nervously in his hands. “Just...I’m sorry if me being stubborn about staying with you made everything worse in the end. And thank you. For protecting me from those guys who tried to steal the flyer.”

Looking at her now, he couldn’t quite believe she’d done it.

“I’m the one who should apologize,” said Zeridee. “If I had prioritized your safety over your emotions—”

“No. I think we were right to let me choose those priorities for myself,” Alden said quickly.

Knee-jerk reaction. She had seemed to be on the verge of drugging him and stuffing him into the flyer at one point. “But I’m very sorry if I got it wrong. I was trying hard to do the right thing, but it went so bad.”

There was another long silence.

“Those men....” Zeridee said.

Are sleeping, thought Alden. How many times had he heard her voice repeat the phrase?

“Those men should not have been there,” she said.

Alden looked into her eyes. They were focused. Serious.

“They shouldn’t have been there,” she repeated. “That they were, that they attacked me, that I...that they passed away—none of it was your fault. If they had arrived after you left, I would have tried to reason with them. And they were clearly not reasonable. Or they might have tried to stun me from behind, exactly as they did, and panicked when I didn’t fall, exactly as they did.”

She straightened her shoulders. “If you hadn’t been there, they would have taken their time exploring the residence. They would have run as the floods approached, leaving me behind dead or soon to die. I wouldn’t be here, and even if they made it out...there are those who would insist on identifying them and punishing them. They would have met the same fates by a different road.

“The only person you caused hurt by staying, Alden, was yourself.”

Alden hadn’t thought he needed to hear that, but he must have been wrong. Something sore inside him eased at the words.

Thank you, Zeridee. You being this way makes me so glad I didn’t let you go.

She frowned at him. “But you must remember that your actions could have led to your death. In the future, I insist you think of how your loss might affect Stu-art’h and Hn’tyon Alis-art’h and—”

Alden burst out laughing.

Zeridee stuttered to a halt.

“I’m sorry!” Alden said, wiping his eyes with the hand that wasn’t holding the thermos. “I’m sorry. I know it’s serious. But you should have seen Stu’s face when I told him you kept trying to force me to stay safe by mentioning his name.”

Zeridee made a yelping sound. “You told—!”

“He was so offended and so pleased at the same time.” The weirdo. “He did tell me to tell you to stop doing it, though.”

Zeridee looked appalled.

“You told him,” she said faintly.

“Of course,” said Alden, still smiling. “We’re friends after all.”

Zeridee leaned back against the door and looked toward the ceiling, letting her head hit it with a thump.

“Don’t shake your brain,” Alden reminded her.

******