Evershore(Skyward #3.1)(22)

You are not my flightleader, she’d said.

That had gutted me then, but I found it infinitely preferable to what I knew she was going to say now.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said.

“Jorgen,” FM said. “You aren’t fine.”

“Yes,” I said. “I am.”

“That’s ridiculous. You can’t be fine. Your parents—”

“This isn’t the time!” I said. “We are in the middle of a diplomatic mission! We need to talk to the senate so we can get Cobb and Gran-Gran home.”

Once we brought Cobb back though, Stoff was definitely going to declare him indisposed. There was no avoiding that. In fact, according to protocol, I should have already told Stoff that we’d found Cobb and he was indeed unconscious.

I…didn’t want to. As soon as I did, Stoff would be fully within his rights to start acting as admiral. I had no idea what he would do, but whatever it was…I didn’t trust it. Cobb knew what was best for the DDF, for our people, for Detritus. He should be the one in charge.

He would get us through this.

FM stared at me with her lips pressed together like she was trying to hold in all the things she wanted to say.

“This isn’t about Cobb,” she said finally. “It’s not about Gran-Gran, and it’s not about our diplomatic mission.”

“Exactly,” I said. “And those are the only things that matter right now.”

“That’s not true,” she said. “You matter, Jorgen. What happened to you, it matters.”

I balled my fists, turning away from her to look out at the sea. A particularly large wave washed up the beach, and I wished it would come all the way up and wash me out to sea and be done with it. I imagined the water pulling me down, crushing me the way Juno said it would, all that weight blocking out the questions, the demands, the needs of everyone else.

Moments ago all that water had seemed terrifying. Now it felt like release.

“Jorgen,” FM said, “you need to talk to someone. It doesn’t have to be me, but have you said anything about your parents? To anyone?”

I hadn’t. I couldn’t. Not until I knew everyone was safe.

“We need to be prepping for the senate meeting,” I said. “Go ask Kauri what we can do to support her in convincing the senate we’re here in peace.”

“I don’t think—”

“Do it, FM.”

“Jorgen—”

“That’s an order.”

I looked back at her, and she stared at me. There was some anger there now, and that was good. Much better than pity. For a moment I thought she was going to tell me off again, announce that I wasn’t her flightleader and I couldn’t tell her what to do. Say what we both knew: that I was only pretending to be in control, that I’d never known what I was doing, that I was incompetent to be in command, and that I was failing at everything—even this.

“Fine,” FM said, and she spun around and marched back up the beach. Past her I could see that the rest of the flight had finished eating. Kauri escorted them down to the water, where Nedd and Kimmalyn took off their shoes and rolled up their jumpsuits, letting the water wash over their feet. Alanik and Arturo sat in the sand, laughing.

I couldn’t remember what it felt like to laugh.

I wondered if that meant I had already drowned.





Eight


I was still on edge when Kauri led us to the senate assembly, held in an arena built into the cliffside. The arena was an enormous space for the kitsen, containing hundreds upon hundreds of small padded seats carved into the sandstone, ascending up to the ceiling at the back of the room. There was barely space for Alanik to stand, and I had to hunch my shoulders to avoid scraping my head.

The floor at the bottom of the seats provided enough space for a few of us to sit. The others stayed on the beach, while FM, Alanik, and I all tried to squeeze in together. We’d used the lack of space to leave Cuna out of the meeting, but in reality I was afraid of what they might say.

We had to sit with our knees tucked up to our chests to fit all three of us. A kitsen floated on a small platform with a raised wall around it, like a cup we might drink out of on Detritus. The cup had a microphone attached to the front of it like on a podium.

“I am Adi, director of the senate,” the kitsen said. “It is my job to ensure that the proceedings progress in an orderly fashion. You will not speak unless you are asked a direct question.”

“Will we be given an opportunity to plead our case?” I asked. “We’re trying to retrieve our friends and offer an alliance, and if we aren’t allowed to speak—”

“You may be called upon to speak if there are questions,” Adi said. “Please do not speak out of turn.”

We may be. Stars, I hoped Kauri had this under control.

The kitsen senators began to file in, all wearing silk robes of a similar style. The colors varied widely, and I wondered if they were based on personal preference, or if they indicated what region the kitsen was from. We’d landed on this island, but we’d passed over hundreds more. As the hall began to fill, I noticed physical differences in the kitsen as well. Some had longer ears and smaller snouts, while others had darker coloring to their fur. A pair in the back each had an ear notched as if ceremonially cut, and one that took a seat toward the front had a row of silver earrings pierced all the way up to the tip on one side.