Aur Child

Two days later, Digambar Dharmavaram sat on the bunk in her cabin aboard the Odyssey.

“Are you reading an actual book?” Arman Ispiryan asked as he entered to check in on her.

“Yes, it’s a children’s book,” she replied. “It calms my mind.”

“Where did you get it?” He reached over and brushed his fingertips across its textured cover of real paper.

“It was in the ship’s inventory. Calliope suggested I read it.”

“Calliope?” he said in surprise. “What does she know about children’s literature?”

“She said she’s read these stories to Linus and Orpheus for years.” She turned the book over to reveal its cover. “I can understand why. They’re lovely.”

“Winnie-the-Pooh,” Arman read. “Huh. Never heard of it. What’s this artifact doing aboard the ship?”

“It’s been here all along. It was meant for us,” she replied.

Arman laughed. “I wouldn’t have guessed we’d need an ancient children’s book for a mission to capture Aur boules. Besides,” he added, “I thought Tellurians bent their orthodoxy enough to allow scriptleafs.”

Digambar shook her head. “Not for us now,” she said. “It’s part of the ship’s original inventory. It was for us when we came to Yellow Reserve after Cloudburst. In case there were any children on board.”

“Oh,” he said, and shrugged. “I see. Well, if that’s what works for you.”

She smiled. “Yeah, a bit anyway. It somehow makes me feel …safe.”

“So,” Arman said, changing the subject, “I came to tell you that, according to Calliope’s diagnostics, you’ve improved dramatically since the visit to Gjoa.”

Digambar scoffed at this report. “Thanks,” she said, “feeling great.”

“Physically,” he continued, “your vital statistics are strong.”

Digambar thought of the pains in her abdomen, panic attacks, and nightly headaches she had withheld telling them. She also hadn’t told them – any of them – how she felt about Sand Flea, the sister she never had in the endoworld. They wouldn’t understand. They’d laugh at her being smitten by a useless Tellurian street urchin. Digambar kept all these things to herself.

Day after day, the ship glided over the azure waters like a hawk on an endless thermal. Through her portal, she watched the immense offshore swells pass beneath them. Awkward pressures throbbed inside her skull from every crest and trough. It could be maddening if she hadn’t had that little princess to think about. Sand Flea was the only thing that helped her hold down the discomforting tremors of her body.

On duty and in her cabin, she thought constantly about those few hours with Sand Flea. A little girl making her way in the rough streets of Gjoa, worn, pretending, confused. A person always at the whim of situations beyond her control. Digambar hoped the arrangements she had made for the little girl at the guest house would improve Sand Flea’s condition. A meal and a place to sleep free from vermin was the least Digambar could arrange with the resources she had at her disposal.

This was, of course, forbidden. It was very likely the same sort of interference with Tellurian lives that Captain Talle was reprimanded for on his previous mission. Maybe it was due to the sentimentality of being in her ancestral land, or maybe it was the way Sand Flea reminded her of how she felt when she was a girl: ignored, abandoned, belittled. Whatever it was, she knew she wanted to see Sand Flea again, as impossible as that seemed. It was that last conversation with her – at the quay, right before she and the others had returned to the Odyssey – that made the desire so strong.

“When will you return?” the little girl had asked her. The darkness of a new moon and a thickly clouded night sky hid her face and exaggerated the whites of her eyes.

“That’s hard to say, Sand Flea, but I would like to see you again.”

“I would like that very much too.” Sand Flea had held a stiff grimace, but it quickly fell apart. With tears welling up and a pleading voice, she had grabbed onto Digambar’s arm and let go her tears, “Diga, please don’t go without me. Take me with you. I can be a great help, I promise. I know how to sail. I know how to do anything you need me to. I promise.”

The sudden commotion at her waist had hollowed her stomach. A squeeze had developed deep within her borrowed heart. Digambar had struggled throughout the day to feign strength, but this confession of longing from such a fiercely independent creature exposed her own true emotions. She had run her hands through the little girl’s hair and kissed her forehead feverishly. Tears ran from Digambar’s face down onto Sand Flea’s. Digambar had needed to distance herself yet she wanted so desperately to stay with the girl.

They had held their embrace. In a flutter of consternation, Digambar had pulled away from the girl with short parting words. “I will come back for you, Sand Flea. I promise!”

Sand Flea had continued to sob, but she smiled through her tears as her chest swelled with hope. Digambar ran along the quay towards the little fishing boat Sand Flea had arranged for them to take to the edge of the bay. Arman and Bai Ye were already in the boat, motioning impatiently for Digambar to climb in. Sand Flea looked down and realized she still held the chart. She sprinted out to the end of the quay yelling after Digamabar.

“Diga! Diga! You forgot your chart!”

She leaned over and handed the chart to Digambar’s outstretched hand. Ispiryan and Cai looked frustrated at all the noise Sand Flea had made running up to them. Their departure should go unnoticed.

Digambar had said, “Thank you, Sand Flea.

Sand Flea looked into Digambar’s eyes and said, “I love you!”

“Oh, I love you, too, dear girl!”

Digambar wiped a tear from her cheek. From the bow seat, Arman pulled at the oars and set the small boat on course to rendezvous with Orpheus in the oozing darkness beyond the last row of anchored fishing boats. Digambar and Bai Ye sat at the stern, watching the little face of Sand Flea disappear into the filmy night.

“Wow, you seemed to have found a friend, Diga,” Bai Ye said as they weaved through the array of boats.

Digambar had held her head and said in a feint of nonchalance, “Yeah, she helped me get the chart from a stubborn mapmaker who wanted to charge me an arm and a leg.”

“Well, that’s good. We weren’t so successful on our side. The whole day was a bust.”

Arman adjusted the course of the little boat and said, “All our hopes now lie in the Aur boules on the southern continent. Did you find out the name of the Tellurian village nearby?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. It’s Hill, or something like that,” Digambar replied.

“Really? Just Hill?” Bai Ye asked.

“Well, Hill Village.” Digambar clarified.

“Doesn’t sound very interesting, does it?” Arman said.

“The mapmaker said it’s instantly recognizable from sea by the large hill where the wind towers stand. Nothing around there’s that high.”

“That all?”

“The cliffs are white. It’s really dry. They’re mad about water.”

“Water?” Bai Ye asked.

“Yeah, save it. Collect every drop. Party after a storm. Typical Tellurian nature nonsense.”

“Just like them,” Arman said. “Same as the Aur boule. For Tellurians, it’s just another ceremonial talisman. But to us, it’s a precious object, you know? It’s the home for each of our souls.”

Digambar nodded.

“Well,” he said, as he pulled one last time to nudge the boat up against one of the anchored fishing boats, “it’s not likely we’ll have to see any of that, sneaking in and out as we do in the middle of night.”

They tied off the boat and climbed across to Linus, who had been waiting stealthily for them at the agreed rendezvous point.

Digambar realized the trap she had set for herself. The fun of telling Sand Flea the truth had turned into an existential risk. To tell these things was a danger to herself, the crew, the whole of Yellow Reserve. To lead Sand Flea on without truly being willing to protect her with the sibling bond that was developing was just as precarious. She’s just a child. A child few seemed to care about, let alone believe. Perhaps the villagers would chalk those conversations up to just another ghost ship story. Or maybe she would simply keep it a secret. Anyway, Digambar couldn’t remember a time she had wanted to have a friend so badly. She had taken this journey to feel again. She had found it in this little girl who she wished would be with her, like a sister, forever.

That was five nights ago. Digambar now sat in her cabin, struggling through another pain in her head. Damn this stupid body. Nothing worked well. She participated sometimes with the others, checking rigging on deck. Working the lines. Trying to keep up as their seamanship training continued, but it was difficult to conceal her condition. Sometimes, she lost her balance. Other times, she dropped an object, or her entire body convulsed momentarily. Captain Talle observed her condition and revised the plan accordingly. He had told her she should stay back at the ship when they attempted to seize the Aur boules. I’d endanger the others if I were out there with them.

She found ways to stay busy when she could. The night before they expected to reach the coast, Bai Ye followed her around the brightly illuminated trays in the port hull nursery.

“How do you know so much about these plants?” Bai Ye asked her.

Digambar snapped a fresh stem and presented it to Bai Ye, spinning the thin green bud in her finger. “They’re sprouts. They’ll grow anywhere. I just make sure the roots stay immersed despite the listing.”

Bai Ye nibbled on the little plant.

“Careful,” Digambar said, pointing to her own abdomen. “You don’t want your insides to explode.”

“Calliope updated her forecast,” Bai Ye said. “She’s expecting a storm to sweep the coast tomorrow night.”

Digambar yawned, “That doesn’t sound good. What’s Adem saying?”

“He wants to get the Aur boules on board as soon as possible; especially after the fuss we made at the Gjoa towers.”

Digambar swallowed hard, but she reassured herself Bai Ye didn’t mean her.

“So, you’re going anyway?”

“Don’t know yet. I left them arguing about it in the saloon.”

Digambar’s eyes opened wider, “I’ve never heard Calliope argue before.”

“Right? Adem was like, ‘What’s the harm in getting a little wet?’ She told him, ’That’s a stupid question to ask a computer.”

Digambar tried to laugh with Bai Ye, but her stomach churned. Instead, she asked, “How much longer before we get there?”

“Calliope said we should be able to see the tower lights before dawn. Probably see birds again too. Should be a spectacular sunrise out on deck if you want to join me?”

Digambar breathed in heavily and looked up at Bai Ye. Her eyes welled with tears.

“What’s wrong with me?” she said.

Bai Ye immediately leaned forward along the planting station to caress Digambar’s cheek.

“We’ll be fine, Diga. And so will you. It’s too dangerous for you to come ashore.”

“No, I know. It’s just that … I’m scared.”

“Don’t worry about us. It’s just a short hike from the beach.” She continued to pet Digambar’s long blonde hair. We’ll be back before you know it.”