The Bus Ride
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Frowning at the carving in my hands, I smoothed a curve of dark brown wood with the pad of my thumb. I’d been playing with Ship’s printer algorithms for weeks, trying to convince the AI to produce wood with an interesting structure that avoided becoming interlocked. Working on the meter-long post with a chip knife had convinced me that the latest sample might actually be a usable result.
I had started carving a few years ago. Carrying a sleeping Ananya in my arms along a rocky beach at the exit of the canyonlands, I’d passed a piece of driftwood, its length twisted from the tumbling waters and grey from exposure to the sunline. I might have seen it a dozen times in previous migrations, but this time something in the breaking tension of its curves and its setting in the landscape spoke to me. I’d dived into a takamakura that evening, absorbed everything it had about carving, and had a factotum produce a set of chisels the next day. After enduring a lot of nicks and cuts – the takamakura lessons instilled knowledge, not muscle memory – I felt that I was finally starting to achieve something.
Mother had provided an edict against taking anything from the habitat that would not regrow in a season. Following my orders, Makers beneath the city printed the wood and delivered it to wherever we were camped via facto. Most of the sculptures I’d carved depicted something from nature: a salmon arching out of the water, the sleepy-headed profile of a capybara. I planted each carving wherever I finished it as a signpost in the curved landscape. The children were always excited to come across one they remembered from a previous circumnavigation.
Hearing a small cry, I looked up. Ananya was crouched on the riverbank with her sister and mother, the curved line of her spine visible in her slim brown back as she bent forward in concentration, working on a puzzle of interconnected multicolored cubes. Hotene had fallen behind the day’s lesson in tensor mathematics and was pawing her face with her palms, the sign of an impending tantrum, as my sister stroked her head patiently and whispered in her ear. Carapaces painted in bright swirls of color extracted from walnuts, alder bark and meadowsweet flowers, factotums stood around them in attendance. The girls had decided to individuate the automatons a few weeks ago, an idea that had never entered Zuri’s or my head when we were children.
A tiny repeated vibration buzzed the back of my scalp, causing me to reflexively look up from my position under the fig tree, peering through its leafy dark green branches to the city above. Mother, I subvocalized.
My son. In my head, her voice was as clear as if she was sitting beside me.
You’ve been busy. Construction of the new city had finally ceased ten days ago, keeping only the waterfront and medical centers untouched. Everything else was entirely remade, blue-white and gleaming, buildings geometrically arranged on radial streets. The tower at the center, pointing down at me now like a finger, was three times the size of anything that had occupied the old polis.
So have you. I thought I heard the faintest trace of amusement in her voice. There are telescopes here now, she explained.
There was a long, empty pause. Are you coming back? I finally asked. The children miss you. Even as I spoke the words wasn’t sure that they were entirely true. I wasn’t even certain that they remembered her, not fully. Perhaps Hotene did. My daughters took evoc communication from their grandmother on their birthday and Launch Day, but we hadn’t physically seen her in years.
Not right now. In fact, I need you here.
Just me?
Just you, for now.
I looked up again at the new city, shining under the linelight. I’m almost antipodal to you. It’ll take time.
Take a facto. I’ve already sent one to replace it. My eyes moved to Zuri and the children. As if following my gaze, mother added: It’ll only be a few days. They’ll be fine.
I sighed. I was never able to defy her will. Alright. I’ll see you soon. Where will I find you?
The central tower. You’ll see. She disappeared.
Standing up, I stretched slowly and walked to the riverbank. Kissing a still-fussing Hotene on the top of her head, I crouched beside Zuri.
“Mother wants me in the city.”
As she turned towards me my sister’s forehead creased in a frown. “Now?”
“Now. You know how she is.”
“For how long?”
“Just a few days. I’m taking a factotum. She doesn’t want to wait, apparently.”
Zuri rolled her eyes. “She’s taken all of them.”
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