Starlight Gleaming Ch. 16

With the beard, the worn clothing, and my ripe scent, most were happy to sit away from me.

The bus trip actually took me four hours. Not so much because it was slow, but because I'd fallen asleep again. Once I got directions, I transferred to a bus going back toward the airport, and with two stim-tabs to help, made sure I stayed awake. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the bus stop was within a few hundred feet of the airport terminal. By then, having missed lunch, I was starved.

Inside the terminal, my first stop was a meal at one of the expensive, fast-food restaurants. Fried chicken from Kenna-Tuck and fried potato wedges with salsa! As I ate, I remembered how much Ixma and Stimmy both liked them. They were a bit addictive.

Next, I found a travel store and bought a large, wheeled luggage kit, along with set of "guaranteed pre-washed" casual clothes, including socks and underwear, a comb and a disposable razor. I stuffed the backpack with the gifts inside the luggage carrier and went in search of the public latrines.

Once in the Hospitality section, I paid for shower facilities. In the bathroom stall, after doing my business, I transferred out my weapons and any items I thought useful to retain from my dirty backpack, stuffing them into the luggage carrier. Tossed out the package wrappers and recycled the empty water bottles. I hadn't turned on the sat-phone, but considering how things had gone and believing it as compromised as my false ID had been, I had no intention of even turning it on.

The bloody clothing, the filthy, battered backpack, and the sat-phone all went into the trash bin.

Once in the shower, I kept my gear close at hand, and my Caiman pistol up by the soap dish, safety off. After I shaved, I shampooed and thoroughly scrubbed my skin. Then I applied the hair color, turning my dark brown hair jet black. Let it sit for several minutes while I let the hot water pulse on my aching back. Rinsed and dried off. Dressed in the new clothes.

Then I headed out to the long-term storage lockers. Discreetly checking, I noticed that two people were keeping an eye on the same set of lockers I was interested in.

Thankful that I had taken the precaution of getting a separate locker for my stuff. I calmly retrieved my duffle bag and slipped it onto my shoulders, leaving the key in the locker door as the sign instructed. Heart hammering, with my duffle over my shoulder and dragging my wheeled luggage carrier behind me, I calmly walked away.

In another latrine, I removed the civilian clothes and put on a clean Class B uniform. This was taking a chance, but I didn't intend to fly out of the city. I put the Caiman 35 into my duffle bag. Feeling better, I popped another stim-tab to help keep myself awake. I wanted out of this town as quickly as possible.

Exiting the airport, I hired another taxi to take me to the bus station. I checked routes south. One city on the departure schedule caught my eye. Kachotl, capital city of Huezteca State. Since it would make several stops to drop off and pick up passengers, it would be a sixteen-hour bus ride. Low-key and slow, it seemed a good method of travel.

An hour's travel east of Kachotl was Mohingo, capital of the neighboring state of Nahua. It was also one of three cities within the Empire boasting an Air Service Academy. Adjacent to the academy was a large Ground Service War Base and Boot Training Center, handling both officers and enlisted. Janetta had graduated from Air Academy at Mohingo.

West of Kachotl was the coastal city of Uiyatiwitz, where Janetta was born and her mother still resided.

I really wanted to get back to my family. But Janetta's relationship with her mother bothered me.

It was on the way home. Sort of.

Well, really it was me sticking my nose in Janetta's business, but somehow it felt right.

A quick visit to see her mother, and see for myself if I should keep pressing for a reconciliation or let it drop.

I bought a ticket, some cheap travel food, and a lock at the counter for my luggage carrier. After locking it and putting a name tag on the luggage carrier, I checked it in at the counter. Buying some cahault at the adjacent diner, I waited an hour for the southbound bus to arrive. When it appeared, I made a last-minute latrine stop and boarded. Finding an empty window seat, and keeping my duffle in my lap, I was asleep almost immediately. Dreaming I'd show everyone how much I'd missed them.

* * * * *

Around noon the next day we arrived in Kachotl where everyone deboarded. Stiff and sore, I stretched a bit, then after collecting my luggage carrier from the driver, I exited the station.

Seeing a public pubic bath house, I headed over for another shower and shave. Put on the last of my clean clothes from my duffle bag. Outside again, I noticed a laundromat sign down the street and headed for it. It was only when I stood inside the noisy, humid facility that I realized I hadn't a clue on what to do. I could fold my clothing, but getting from the dirty to the clean part?

Ant colonies have warrior ants that fight for the colony; their mandibles are too big to feed themselves, so they must be fed and cared for by the hive's workers. In many ways, I was like that warrior ant. I could hold my own in battle, but I unable to cook or even wash my own clothing. Pulling the tab on an MRE and swallow the disgusting stuff did not count. Well, no one can do everything. It made me appreciate Calia, Zinja, and Ixma for all they had done much to take care of our family.

Fortunately, the cashier at the desk saw me in my Air Service uniform, standing about in confusion, and asked if I wanted to have my laundry cleaned. Five credits. Six credits included cleaning my field boots. Paying the fee, I was very grateful.

There was a small diner across the street, so I walked across and had a leisurely meal. Simple fare but well made and decent portions. Pan bread, eggs, chopped chicken, melted cheese, diced onions, cilantro, sliced peppers, as well as black and refried beans. Hibiscus tea with a touch of honey. Good stuff. I ate like a pig.

I opened my laptop and briefly powered it up. No wifi access. I realized that made sense. This was a working neighborhood, containing some of the poorer members of the Guild Caste. To pass the time, I put away the laptop and bought a couple of local newspapers. Might as well try and catch up on what the rest of the world had been up to during my exile at Sparantzlo.

Hmm. Drought for the third year in a row in the Vedan Kingdom. Tens of thousands threatened with starvation. Grain purchases from the Kemer Kingdom and Shingye Dynasty to help offset the threat. Record floods in Zimbabwe. Oh, this was interesting: Atlantis makes rape officially a crime. In the back section of the papers, several editorials claiming the new law as proof of how morally weak the Atlanteans were. Ah, if they only knew what I intended!

Atlantis might be the enemy, but I had to give them credit. They'd done was I was fighting to do, and had done it somewhat peacefully within their borders in a rather short time. I mean, the protest marches had only gone on for a couple of years, and like that, it was now a law. The lack of reactions from other nations led me to think there was growing worldwide support for this long-needed change as well.

Oh, wait. The Kingdom of Veda declares that Atlanteans coddle their women, stating women were made to take care of their men and make children. And this was another reason the Atlanteans were not to be trusted, because everyone knew that women needed men to take care of them, and make the "big" decisions. More of that "women are for fucking, not for fighting" nonsense.

Not every man is or can be a warrior. And, I knew that not every man could be a good father. If that were true, maybe not every woman should have children. Then I wondered - did every woman want to have children when she came of age? I realized the choice and the right to have control over their bodies had to include this right, too. Equal rights? One day. The Universal Protection Orders were a first step in a fight that one day would make a better world for my daughters. I looked out the window, watching people going about their lives. For them, too.

After the meal, I left a ten-credit note as tip, which was twice the cost of the meal. I winked at stunned waitress, and thanked her for a wonderful meal. After all, I'd been there for a couple of hours, eating and reading. I happily whistled a tune as I exited.

After I collected my clean laundry, I walked back to the bus station, bought a ticket and proceeded to wait two hours for the next west-bound bus to Uiyatiwitz. To pass the time, I re-read some of my father's last few emails, and wrote some revised thoughts based on my newer, stronger grasp of physics. Still no wifi, but they'd wait in the out-going queue until I found service.

When the bus finally arrived, I slipped on my jacket, gave the driver my ticket and settled into my seat. Most of the other passengers were Free Farmers, though a few were Guildsmen. Despite the bus having some riders standing in the aisles, because of my uniform, no one dared sit next to me. Almost next to me, I suddenly noticed a woman with a backpack also carrying an infant in a baby sling. Standing up, I leaned over and tapped her shoulder.

With trepidation, she turned to face me. Up close, I thought she might even be the same age as me. Which was sobering. Even so, hard work and the weather were aging her fast.

"Sit next to me," I said in Nahuatl. "Rest yourself. It's a long journey."

"And... what will you ask in return?" Her large, dark brown eyes were wide, fearful.

I shook my head. "You have nothing to fear. Rest your feet. There is no debt, no obligation. My word on it."

Sliding my garrison cap under my left shoulder lapel, I settled back, folded my arms, and closed my eyes. The woman took off her pack, putting it between her legs as she sat down. Then, she began humming to her child, rocking him gently.

I drifted.

There were numerous stops along the way. Smaller towns and villages. Some no more than a cross street and a building or three with stop signs on the cross street. During our westward progressions, sometimes passengers got off, and yet it seemed even more got on. The aisles became more crowded, and the stops for latrine breaks grew longer.

The three-hour trip, according to the schedule, turned out to be closer to seven. And just one scheduled meal break. Hungry, I wiped the sleep from my eyes and got up to move past the woman. I heard her stomach give an unmistakable growl. I stopped and looked at her. She just stared back at me, her eyes worried and huge.

"I have money. Let me buy you and your child dinner."

Before she could protest, I added, "Please. For the sake of my mother and my own children."

Surprised, she just nodded and followed me off the bus.

Getting in line at a open vendor stall, we smelled vegetables and meat cooking in hot oil. My own stomach ached for sustenance. A small bowl of custard and flatbread for her son, and a sandwich wrap for her, two for me. A bottle of water each.

I noticed a man watching us intently, standing among several other passengers waiting to re-board the bus. "Do you know him?" I asked her, nodding at him.

She nodded. "Meeno. He is my husband."

"Meeno!" I called. "Come here."

Doffing his faded, sweat-stained cap, in faded workman's clothing and carrying a large pack of his own, he walked toward the vendor's outside lamps. Moths, mosquitos and crane flies buzzed about. His face was a mix of concern for his wife and worry about me. "Yes, lord?"

"May I buy you a meal?"

As a nobleman, I could simple do it. Order it even. But my father and Styen had both instilled in me the notion that most men desire self-respect and pride. Some will take what is freely given and move on, but many prefer to earn their way. I had given his wife food, and that might hurt his pride. If he accepted, that would be end of it. But if he politely refused, I could give him a task that could earn him his meal and allow him to keep face, and include my gift to his family as within his earnings.

"That is not necessary, lord."

What the baby didn't eat, she finished. But I also noticed she ate only half her wrap. Probably saving it for later or saving it for her man.

"A trade. When we get to Uiyatiwitz, I'll give you my boots and the cleaning soap in return for dinner now."

His eyes lightened. Quick work for generous wages. "Yes. I can do that, lord."

"Excellent. Order your meal. Whatever you want."

Bowing, he smiled. The meal was ordered and I paid, after which we clambered back onto the bus as it was time to leave. Once we were settled, I instructed the woman to finish her food.

"We will have breakfast when we arrive while Meeno cleans my boots," I informed her.

She blinked, then gave me a half-smile, agreeing to the illusion. This arrangement would take care of this meal and the morning one as well. While I laid back and closed my eyes, she whispered to Meeno, "Eat the second one. You know you are hungry."

He looked at his wife and then to me. Meeno ate as his wife urged, and I heard her eat as well. Afterward, from his place on the bus floor, I glanced at them both. He leaned his head against her hip, and her free hand caressed his shoulder.

Around dawn, we finally arrived. The young mother whose name I still did not know woke about the same time as I did. She'd fallen asleep, her head against my shoulder. Where she'd drooled on my arm. She grew alarmed at her perceived transgression.

I glanced at the wet spot, then peered at the ceiling. "How odd. Did it rain last night? I didn't hear anything,"

Doing her best to keep her face straight while checking on her son, I think she finally understood.

Gathering our possessions, everyone de-boarded. She had a large backpack, filled to almost overflowing. Besides the huge pack that Meeno already wore, he retrieved a rolled-up bed mat, which he carried over one shoulder, and a large bag filled tools. Their worldly goods. I retrieved my luggage carrier.

We found a café near the bus station and had breakfast. The cafe's cahualt was awful. Far too vile to try and finish. So I ordered three bottles of water, fortified with electrolytes. Meeno cleaned my boots while his wife nursed her son, taking turns eating and feeding bites to her husband.

Her name it turned out was Ai'eesa, but Meeno just called her Eesa. I was told it meant Flower Petal in Huestican. Their son Keemo, I learned, was named after Meeno's father. Meeno was twenty-two and she was nineteen. Fooled me. Both looked older than they were. Hard living will do that.

Keemo was their third child, and they hoped that he would live. They had lost their small plot of land due to taxes and two bad harvests in a row. Meeno and Eesa now worked as migrant laborers, hoping to land a full-time farming job before next year's census. If he couldn't find employment as a farm hand, they would be re-classified as Indentured, and then things would get a great deal tougher for them. They could even be separated.

Changing the subject, I said, "I'm looking for 12448 Peeno Leeko Street. Do you know where it is?"

They looked at me, puzzled.

"Do you mean Peenu Leeko?" Eesa ventured. A slight variation in pronunciation, but sometimes that made all the difference. Meeno and Eesa exchanged a few sentences. Then, he said, "Lazy Fox Street. Is that what you mean?"

"Could be," I answered. "I don't know the Huestican language."

Reaching into my duffle bag, I pulled out my laptop and opened it up, hoping for the best. Finding an open wireless connection available, I logged in. On a local map, I confirmed they were right. It was Peenu Leeko. I'd read the address when I was going to school at Tikún War Base. All things considered, I was doing pretty good. The street was some rads south of where we were. I powered down and returned the laptop to my duffle bag.

After I paid for the meal, they started to leave.

"Please wait, Meeno. Eesa. I'd like to make you an offer. Keep me company and I will see that you are fed and pay you for your time. When we're done, we'll settle up. Agreed?"

They talked, she whispered and nodded, and he finally said, "Yes, lord."

I'd noticed that taxis seemed to wait by the bus station, but by the time we'd finished our meal, they had vanished. However, there were signs with telephone numbers, so I used my temporary phone and called the first one I saw listed on a sign outside the bus station.

Fifteen minutes later, we were on our way.

I know, I know. Here I was with a poor family in tow. My plan wasn't firm, but Janetta had told me more than once that all her mother had was her widow's pension. I had money to spare. Having servants around the house could only help Janetta's mother. I hadn't approached Meeno or Eesa, but they might jump at the chance. He could work as a gardener and she as a housekeeper and I'd cover their upkeep. Working as a gardener, I could sign off as his employer and put a freeze on his being reclassified as Indentured. I took a breath. I didn't know Janetta's mother. If she didn't come across right, I'd make other arrangements for the farming couple. If one or the other didn't agree to the relationship, no harm done.

This was impulse again. I'd take a chance on Doyya, and she was a good Second. Another impulse, and I had a blood brother, Bilan, who'd fought by my side to protect my parents. I hoped this chance meeting would work out for them as well as for me.

Maybe it was the baby and her being so young. The look in Ai-eesa's eyes when she looked at her son Keemo, they reminded me of the look I'd seen when Sisi slept beside Zinja, and the looks I'd seen Ixma give Mina. I was beginning to understand just how important those feeling for the helpless little ones could be.

I told myself again that my goal was a quick visit to find Zaniyah Tlacotli, and to learn how she fared.

Then it occurred to me. What if Janetta's mother didn't want to renew contact? Or, once Zaniyah finds out I'm living with her daughter, she might run me out of the house with crockery and cutlery aiming for my direction. Ah, well. That would be embarrassing, but easy to survive.

As for Meeno and Eesa, well, if this didn't work out, I'd make arrangements to set them up. And I'd do it myself. My mother had done more than enough. I was an officer, a nobleman. Surely I could handle setting up two people.

The driver took us through city streets for a bit, then through some upscale housing, before moving into some poorer neighborhoods. When we finally arrived at our destination, I looked about. It may once have been young and vibrant, but this street and the houses now felt worn down. On the verge of being discarded. Two houses up the street, there was a battered ChoCac on cinder-blocks, the wheels gone, and grass sneaking up through the pavement underneath.

I paid the driver the fifteen credits for the forty-minute ride, then asked him if he'd like to earn hundred credits more. I had his attention.

"Call it in if you need to, but stick around - until I either say you can go, we all pile back in, or it hits an hour past dinner. You might get more trips during that time. If that happens, any fares and mileage will be extra. Regardless of whether you drive or don't drive, you still get a hundred credits. Agreed?"

I wore my uniform, declaring my status as a nobleman. To ease his mind, though, I showed him the bills I had on my person, and gave him a twenty credit note as a surety.

He licked his lips before he looked at me. "Warrior's Word?"

"Warrior's Word," I acknowledged.