Through Alien Eyes Page 12

  “Juna told us you were harvesting grapes,” Moki said.

  “That’s right.”

  “I’ve never seen a grape. What are they like?”

  Danan grinned. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to see a lot of them over the next few days.”

  “Better get back to the farm,” Toivo said. “Be needing the truck this afternoon.”

  Juna climbed into the back of the truck. Danan handed the bags up to her, lifting even her heaviest duffle by himself. The Tendu swung over the side of the truck and into the back with athletic grace. Danan helped Toivo lift out of his chair, and into the cab of the truck, then carefully buckled his father into the seat with a solicitousness that Juna found heartbreaking to watch. Danan folded the chair with practiced ease and handed it up to her.

  Juna hesitated for a moment before taking it. Then, doing her best to hide her dislike of the thing, she grabbed hold of the chair and lifted it into the truck. The chair was surprisingly lightweight; she had expected it to be heavier. She stowed it in the front of the truck bed, then nodded to Danan, who had been watching her from the back window of the cab.

  Juna settled herself against the side of the truck as it started up. She was home at last, and as always, her homecoming held pain as well as joy. The home she returned to was never the one that she had left. She had been gone twice as long as usual, and the changes were amazing. Danan had shot up from a pudgy child to a lanky youth on the verge of puberty. And Toivo had been transformed from a strong, happy, prosperous young farmer to a bitter cripple on the verge of a premature middle age. He looked ten years older than she did.

  They were passing the Jadav family farm, with its neat rows of fruit trees, tall hop vines, and the stubble of the barley fields. The Jadav brothers and their wife were out with a work crew, picking apples. As the truck approached, they set down their baskets and ran to the fence, shouting a welcome. Danan slowed the truck, so that Juna could say hello. Mrs. Jadav, her stomach bulging with pregnancy, handed her a basket.

  “Fresh apples, for you and your family,” she said, glancing sidelong at the Tendu. Her two sons climbed the fence and stared openly at Ukatonen and Moki.

  “Thank you, Sumitra! And congratulations on your pregnancy! You were just starting to show with the first one when I left.”

  “Then you haven’t met my sons. This one is Dayal, and the little one is Devi. And this one will be a girl! It’ll be nice to have a little company in the family,” she said, beaming proudly at her two husbands and their sons.

  “You’ll have to come by and meet Moki and Ukatonen,” Juna said. “And thanks for the apples!” she called as the truck sped up. She and the Tendu waved at the Jadav family as they faded into the distance. Moki took an apple from the basket and bit into it. He flushed turquoise with delight.

  “It’s good!” he declared, handing one to Ukatonen. “Try one, en!”

  Juna picked an apple out of the basket, polished it against her thigh, and bit into it. It was sweet and still warm from the sun. Juice ran down her chin. The Jadavs’ fruit sold for premium prices in cislunar space. Back on Broumas Station, this apple would have sold for five credits, almost enough to buy a used comm unit. The Jadavs’ beer cost ten credits, and was only available at certain upscale bars. A bottle of their pear cider was even harder to find, costing almost as much as a mid-priced bottle of wine.

  Farming in space was expensive, but there were no losses due to disease or pests, and you could optimize the weather for your crop. Here on Berry Station, they specialized in high-value crops that cost a lot to haul up out of a gravity well. There were a lot of wineries and breweries here, as well as orchards and truck farms. They supplied a lot of smaller stations with premium fruit and produce, some fresh, and some flash frozen. They were required by their charter to grow a certain amount of grain as well. Some, like the Jadavs, turned most of their barley into beer, others fed it to animals, raised out on the high-g outer level, where they put on muscle faster. There was still a healthy surplus that was shipped out to the stations for human consumption. It wasn’t as profitable as the higher value crops, but the price supports made it worthwhile.

  Life was good here on Berry. Looking up at the station arching over her head, Juna wondered why she had ever left. But she had felt trapped and bored here, and wanted to travel far, and see alien suns rise on distant worlds. Now all she wanted was to stay home. She was tired of traveling, tired of coping with a strange universe.

  The truck hit a pothole, jolting her from her worries, and throwing Ukatonen forward onto their luggage. Moki looked worried for a moment.

  “Are you all right, en?” Juna asked.

  Ukatonen nodded.

  “The harvest traffic is a bit rough on the roads,” she explained, raising her voice so they could hear her over the puttering of the truck’s hydrogen engine. “There’ll be a few more potholes, so you should be prepared for them.”

  Ukatonen settled himself more firmly into place.

  They were passing the Swensen place. Hanging from the porch was a big hand-painted banner that said WELCOME BACK JUNA. Juna smiled and blinked back sudden tears. Lena Swensen had probably painted that. And gotten it hung, even in the midst of harvest. She could see the Swensens’ crew out in the back orchard, picking apples. She recognized Lars and his two brothers from their shocks of red hair. They waved at the distant truck. Juna waved back.

  It was like that at all the places they passed. People working near the road stopped and ran to the fence to say hello and stare at Moki and Ukatonen. They handed Juna bags filled with produce, or preserves, or fresh-baked bread. The Tendu shook hands, waved, and shouted greetings. It felt rather like a one-truck parade.

  Finally, they turned spinward at the Uenos’ farm, where tall, spreading paulownia trees arched across the road. They passed the Diversity Plot, a band of forest that stretched all the way around the circumference of the inner level of the station. Moki and Ukatonen sat up, their ears wide and quivering, their skins pink with excitement. Juna smiled. She had been looking forward to their reaction. Moki turned to her, purple with curiosity.

  “Yes, you can climb the trees. But you should wait until we get settled. Then I’ll show you the forest.”

  The Tendu stared at the forest as it faded into the distance, like thirsty travelers gazing longingly at an oasis.

  The truck left behind the paulownias and passed under a stately row of ginkgo trees. Juna’s heart rose as she saw the slender, graceful gingkoes, their dancing fishtailed leaves just turning to gold. Beyond the trees, rows of vines heavy with grapes stretched away into the distance. They had entered her father’s land. She craned her neck for a glimpse of the farmhouse she grew up in.

  Then they were passing through the gate, and down the long, cypress-lined driveway. Danan slowed as they pulled up to the house. Juna vaulted out of the truck and bounded up the steps before Danan had stopped the truck.

  [["hi! Netta Tdtil"]]

  “They’re out back, Juna!” her brother called.

  Juna rushed through the house, and out the back door, then stopped in surprise. There, out in the tree-shaded yard, was a big table spread with a huge buffet. Her father was there, and her aunt, and half a dozen old family friends.

  “Surprise! Welcome home!” they shouted.

  Her father rose from his chair, a little more stiffly than he had before, Juna noted with a trace of sadness. “Hei, tytar,” he said, spreading his arms. “Welcome home!”

  Juna ran to his arms, tears flooding her eyes. “Oh, Isi” she said. “It’s good to be home, but who’s harvesting the grapes?” she asked, looking around.

  “We can spare a couple of hours to welcome you back. Toivo’s family sent some people to help out. There’s just the last of the merlot, and that’s going over to Wermuth.”

  The truck rounded the side of the house. Ukatonen and Moki lifted Toivo’s wheelchair over the side. Danan unfolded it, and helped his father out of the truck.

  �
��Was she surprised?” Danan asked as they came in the gate. “We were going to pull around back, but Juna jumped out of the truck before we could stop her.”

  “It was a wonderful surprise!” Juna said, ruffling Danan’s curly chestnut hair affectionately.

  “Welcome home, Juna,” her aunt Anetta said, coming up to her niece and enfolding her in a warm, soft embrace. Juna could smell Netta’s familiar lavender perfume. It reminded her of all the times her aunt had been there to comfort her in the difficult years after her mother died. Fresh tears welled in Juna’s eyes.

  “Thank you, Netta. I can’t believe I’m actually here. I’ve missed you all so much,” she said, wiping the tears from her face.

  She glanced up from the circle of her family, and saw Moki and Ukatonen looking on, pale purple with uncertainty.

  “Isi, Netta, everyone, this is my adopted son, Moki, and my friend Ukatonen.” She beckoned to them, and put her arm around Moki.

  There was a long, uncertain silence.

  “Hei, Moki, Ukatonen, welcome to our home,” her father said, a little too heartily. Aunt Netta shook hands with Ukatonen, looking a little startled at the cool wetness of his touch.

  “Juna told us you make good apple pie, Netta Tati” Moki said. “Do you have some? It sounds delicious.”

  Everyone laughed at that, and soon the party was rolling again. Anetta cut the bami a big wedge of pie. “Here you go,” she said.

  Moki took a forkful and popped it into his mouth. His skin flared turquoise with delight. “It’s good! Here, Ukatonen, try some.” He handed the plate to the enkar.

  Ukatonen was equally pleased. “That was wonderful,” he told Anetta, turning the same’happy shade of blue as Moki.

  Anetta smiled. “Here, let me cut you a slice of your own, Ukatonen.”

  “A small slice, please. There’s so much here I’ve never eaten before.”

  Anetta’s eyebrows rose. “Then let me help you fill your plates.” She took charge of Moki and Ukatonen, giving them a taste of everything, watching to see what they liked. Juna smiled in relief. The two Tendu had clearly won over her aunt. It was an important step in their acceptance by her family.

  Juna looked around at the familiar faces of her family, the small tree-shaded yard, and the massive, comforting presence of the house with its massive, laser-cut stone walls, and deep-bosomed porch. A fleeting breeze stirred her hair, and shifted the branches of the big chestnut trees. She took a deep breath, smelling the dusty sun-warmed earth, the hay and manure smells of the barn, the dusty, fruity smell of ripening grapes. It smelled even richer and deeper than she remembered. Home. She was home at last.

  Moki watched Eerin with her family. It was uncanny, seeing so many other people with Eerin’s face. Her father was pink-skinned and white-haired, but Moki could see Eerin’s distinctive cheekbones echoed in the faces of her father, and her aunt. Eerin and her brother were even more alike, with their brown skin, long straight noses, thin eyebrows, and big eyes. Toivo was stockier, and his face was leaner, more like his father’s, but despite these differences, Eerin and Toivo were startlingly alike.

  The family smelled the same, too. Even Aunt Anetta, under that strange, nose-twisting scent, smelled like Eerin. They seemed as alike as a litter of gudda pups. Moki found it simultaneously confusing and reassuring to be surrounded by so many people who smelled like his sitik.

  He watched them clustering around Eerin. She looked so happy, there among her relatives. It made him glad, but he also felt a bit excluded by their closeness.

  “Hei, Moki,” Danan said, touching him on the shoulder. “I need to drive the truck out to the field. You want to come with me? I can show you around the farm on the way back.”

  “Thank you, Danan, I’d like that,” Moki replied.

  He touched Ukatonen on the shoulder. “Danan is going to show me around the farm, en,” he told him in skin speech.

  Ukatonen flickered assent.

  “Okay,” Moki said. “Let’s go.”

  “That’s really solar, the way you make pictures on your skin. How do you do it?” Danan asked.

  “That’s skin speech,” he told Danan. “It’s how we Tendu talk.”

  Danan opened the door of the truck and got in. Moki started to climb into the back of the truck.

  “Hei, Moki, come sit up here, with me,” Danan said, sticking his head out of the truck.

  Moki climbed through the open window into the front seat.

  Danan laughed. “Moki, you’re weird.”

  Blue and green ripples of laughter slid over Mold’s skin. “Of course,” he replied. “I’m a Tendu.”

  They drove past a big building called a barn, where something called horses were kept, then another big building, the winery, where grapes were made into wine. Then they drove out into a big field with rows of plants draped over wires that were supported by tall metal frameworks. The vines were heavy with dark purple-black clusters of berries. Moki felt sorry for the plants, they seemed so confined.

  “Those are the grapevines,” Danan informed him. “Those metal pipes are part of the irrigation system. We feed the drip lines off them during the summer. If it’s a cold rotation, we put tall sprinkler heads on top, to keep the plants from freezing.”

  Moki nodded. He only understood bits and pieces of Danan’s explanation. He had seen irrigation equipment before, on the ship, but he didn^t understand how it kept plants warm. And why would you need to, anyway?

  “How does the truck work?” Moki asked, hoping to get onto familiar ground. Machinery fascinated him, and he had forever been pestering the crew of the Homa Darabi to explain things to him.

  “That’s kind of complicated,” Danan replied. “There’s an engine that runs on– that is, eats– hydrogen. It makes the power that turns the wheels. I’ll show you sometime. We’ll have to service the truck after the harvest.”

  “Is there a fuel cell?” Moki asked. Most of the things on the ship that used hydrogen ran on fuel cells. He didn’t understand how a fuel cell worked, really, but he understood what they did.

  “Kind of,” Danan said.

  Up ahead, there were people in the fields, and some kind of machine with two large animals tied to it. Danan pulled the truck up to the machine, got out, and handed the keys to a woman sitting on top of the machine.

  “Hi, Danan, how’s Juna?” the woman asked.

  “Just fine,” Danan said. “She looks really good.”

  “You see the aliens?”

  Danan nodded. “Hey Moki, come on out and meet one of my mothers.”

  Moki climbed out of the truck. “Hello,” he said a bit hesitantly, wondering how Danan could have more than one mother. “It’s good to meet you.”

  “Hello Moki. I’m Astrid Fortunati,” the woman said. “How do you like it here?”

  “It’s much nicer than the Homa Darabi Maru and Broumas Station,” he said. “There’s more room, and lots of big trees.”

  “Well, I’m glad you like our home,” Danan’s mother told him. “We’re nearly done loading the wagon. If you want to wait for a few minutes, I can give you a ride back to the barn.”

  “What kind of animals are those?” Moki asked, pointing at the big brown creatures tied to the wagon.

  “They’re horses, Moki. The brown one’s Herman and the blue roan is Dusty,” Astrid explained. “Danan, why don’t you introduce him to the horses while we finish loading the wagon?”

  “They’re so big!” Moki said as they drew close to the horses. “Is it safe to get so close?”

  “Sure. They’re real gentle.” Danan reached over and rummaged in the wagon, pulling out a handful of long orange carrots. “You can give Dusty a carrot. He really likes them. Here, I’ll feed Herman so you know how it’s done.”

  Danan broke off a piece of carrot and held it out flat on his palm. The big brown horse reached out with its long nose and gently took the carrot from his hand. There was a crunching sound as the big animal’s massive teeth ground the c
arrot to pulp.

  “What’s that metal thing in the horse’s mouth?” Moki asked.

  “That’s a bit. It’s how you control a horse’s speed and direction.” The other horse, whose coat had a grey frosting the color of regret in Tendu skin speech, nudged Danan with his big nose. Danan smiled. “See, Dusty wants a carrot too.” He broke off a piece of carrot and handed it to Moki. “Here, you give him one.”

  Danan showed Moki how to hold his hand out. Moki cautiously reached out and gave Dusty a carrot. The horse’s big nose was surprisingly soft and gentle as it nuzzled Mold’s palm. The carrot was gone in a moment. Dusty breathed out a huge, warm puff of air, and nudged him with his nose, asking for another carrot. The horse had a reassuring smell of fermenting vegetation that reminded Moki faintly of the jungles of home. He fed the big animal another piece of carrot.

  Danan stroked Herman’s nose, then reached up and scratched the horse behind the ears under the complex arrangement of straps the horse wore on his head. Even the humans’ animals seemed to wear clothes. “There, Herman. Good horse. You like that, don’t you?” Danan crooned as the horse’s head drooped, and his eyelids half closed.

  “Does he talk?” Moki asked.

  Danan laughed, and Dusty jerked awake. “No, Moki. Horses don’t talk, but they like-being talked to, and they respond to your tone of voice. They’re easily startled, and a scared horse is a dangerous horse. You don’t want to sneak up on a horse, especially from the rear. If they’re startled, they tend to kick. But most of the time, horses’re very calm, especially if they’ve been well treated and properly trained.”

  “Danan, Moki, we’re ready to go,” Astrid called.

  “How can you have more than one mother?” Moki asked as they headed for the wagon.

  “Astrid’s not my biological mother, she’s just one of the other mothers in our family. She takes care of us kids, though. My real mother, the one who had me, is up at the house with Toivo. I’ll introduce you to her when we get back.”

  “Oh,” Moki said, “she’s like an elder in the same village.”

  “No, she’s part of my family.”