Now I recalled that Hawk had known one of her old lovers. I said, “Did you ever meet Carlotta when you knew… what was his name, the pilot?”
“Grainger,” Hawk said. “No◦– he talked about her plenty, but I never met the woman. I only knew Grainger briefly. We flew a couple of missions together.” He lapsed into silence.
I watched the shola trees flicker past, thought about last night, and tried to work out my reluctance to get involved with Carlotta Chakravorti-Luna. There was no denying that she was beautiful, and famous, and no doubt rich◦– and many a man would have fallen at her feet, given the opportunity. But I think I saw her as an unwelcome interruption of a contented life; I was happy for the first time in years, and Luna, with her complicated past and twisted emotional freight, would have been an unnecessary burden.
Beside me, Maddie said, “A penny for them, David.”
I decided to come clean. “Before I left last night, Luna made a pass at me◦– then collapsed. I was just wondering why I don’t want anything to do with her.”
Maddie regarded me, and with her usual perceptiveness said, “It’s because you haven’t had a relationship for over five years, David, and you’re afraid she’d find you wanting.”
I opened my mouth to protest, then shut it and smiled.
That morning, before setting off, Matt had rung around every car-hire franchise in MacIntyre, asking if they’d rented a vehicle at any time in the past five days to a single female Ashentay. He’d drawn a blank at a dozen places, and then struck lucky. A small firm on the edge of town had hired out an off-road bison to a native, two days ago. Which meant that Kee would have already reached the sacred site.
One hour later we turned off the highway and took a winding minor road through the rucked foothills. Ahead, the central massifs were scintillating facets of purple rock topped by snow, their lower slopes cloaked in jungle.
As we drove, I thought about Hawk and the alien girl. Many human relationships were hard to fathom, but trying to work out the mutual attraction between a fifty-five year-old space pilot and an alien almost half his age was impossible. It was easy to be glib about it and see what Hawk saw in Kee: she was, after all, young and pretty in a fey, elfish kind of way. As to what she saw in him… I’d once asked her about her relationship with Hawk (I was drunk at the time) and she’d merely smiled and said, “Hawk is a good man. In the words of my people, he and I are k’oto.” And when I asked what that meant, in English, she had merely smiled again and shook her head gently. “There is no word in English, David.”
But I saw how Hawk and Kee behaved together, and I could not doubt their love.
We climbed. The road became twistier, and the drop to our left took on a frightening aspect. I’d never been good with heights and I tried not to look. This far inland the vegetation was spectacular compared to the littoral flora of the bay. We passed great multi-coloured blooms that looked like fireworks made flesh, riotous fountains of sparkling leaf and bud. The open-top car was flooded with a heady, honeyed scent.
Maddie pointed far ahead, beyond the mountains. Through the mist, we could just make out the effulgence of the Yall’s golden column, the alien construct which, until five years ago and our discovery, had remained one of the Expansion’s greatest mysteries.
Maddie said, “It doesn’t seem like five years, does it? Do you know something, I never thought we’d survive intact, as a group of friends, after all the media interest.”
“What?” I looked at her. “Did you think we’d be lured by all the offers, the money? The fame?”
She smiled. “When Hawk decided to pilot a ship through the column to the stars… I thought that was the start of the break-up. And then the film offers came in.”
“Which we all refused to have anything to do with,” I pointed out.
“Yes, and how I loved you all for telling the money men to go stuff themselves!” Maddie said. “Little did we realise that the unauthorised film would be so terrible…”
Hawk turned in his seat. “But how do you think the experience did change us?”
“Well,” I said, “we all learned something about ourselves, didn’t we? We grew. I think we became stronger. Happier. I know I did.”
Maddie reached forward and mussed Matt’s hair. “And I found the man of my dreams, didn’t I, deary?”
Matt just laughed.
“And I found I could pilot again,” Hawk said. “Strange thing was, after a few trips out-there, that was enough. To know that I could do it. What mattered was what I had here on Chalcedony, my friends, and Kee.”
At this he lapsed into silence again, and our thoughts returned to the alien girl.
An hour later Matt slowed to a stop and indicated the screen on the dashboard. “Dar is twenty kilometres south-west of here,” he said. “There are no metalled roads indicated, and the track isn’t shown on this.” He shrugged. “Any idea where it might be, Hawk?”
“Let’s drive a little further and keep a look out,” Hawk suggested.
Matt started the engine and we drove south-west, keeping our eyes peeled for a break in the jungle to our right. Thirty minutes later Maddie called out, “There!”
A sandy track, little wider than the car itself, interrupted the wall of vegetation. “And look,” she went on, pointing.
A series of saddled hills could be seen beyond the treetops, and kilometres away, nestling in a green clearing between two rearing peaks, stood a collection of huts. Smoke drifted vertically, undisturbed by wind. I made out the tiny stick-figures of alien natives.
“Dar,” Hawk said.
Matt eased the car right, squeezing between the trees. Fronds whipped by, lashing at us. The jungle panoply closed in and the sunlight diminished. We bucked along the uneven track at walking pace.
Matt said, “When we reach the village◦– if we reach the village◦– we’ll have to leave the car and continue on foot. How far did you say the sacred site was from Dar?” he asked Hawk.
“Roughly ten kilometres.”
“Hell of a walk,” I said.
The jungle opened out as we climbed, and the track widened. We no longer had to dodge the attention of lashing branches and fronds. Matt picked up speed. I gazed up at the tranquil view of the sequestered alien village and wondered how the locals might receive us◦– how indeed they might view our quest to retrieve the alien girl before she indulged in what the Ashentay saw as a valid cultural ritual?
I voiced my concern.
Hawk said, “We won’t tell them we want to stop her. We’ll just say we need to find her. The Ashentay aren’t a curious people. They won’t ask questions. It’ll help that I can speak a little of their language. Thing is, we might be too late.”
Maddie said, “Even if we are, Hawk, then look at it realistically◦– chances are that Kee will be okay.”
“I know, statistically. But even so…”
I said, “But if we find her before she’s taken part in the ritual, how will she react to us barging in and saying she shouldn’t do it?”
Hawk grunted a laugh. “Kee’s stubborn. But I’ll tell her that what she’s doing will hurt me, pain me, and that might make her think again.”
“But,” Matt pointed out, “she’s obviously doing it for a reason. She’s a sensitive person, Hawk; she’ll have thought through the consequences.”
Hawk nodded. “I know, I know. And that’s what makes it all the more painful.” He stopped there, then said, “I’d just like to know why she feels she has to go through with it, is all.”
We had no answer to that, and we fell silent as the car rocked and careered along the pot-holed track.