Homebound by John David Anderson

Author:John David Anderson [Anderson, John David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-06-03T00:00:00+00:00

When the sky growls, it’s time to come home.

—Orin proverb

Any Port in a Storm

LEO HAD NO IDEA HOW MUCH LONGER THEY WORKED. At some point his watch started fritzing again, cycling through programs, randomly shutting off or rebooting, showing him the time in London and Tokyo and Meridian Bay on Mars. According to the solar cycle of the rapidly spinning Celeron Seven, they’d been building this cistern for forty-seven days; in Tardusian time, they’d been at it for three and a half seconds. Leo could tell by the horizon of this planet, however, that it was getting late. The air had cooled considerably, making him wish he’d brought Kat’s jacket.

Boo settled the last stone in place, and then lifted Leo by the waist so he could apply the Orin’s homemade spackle, sealing the gaps. Leo could barely flex his caked-white fingers, but he made sure every crevice was filled; a cistern with a hole in it was useless, after all. Some things really did need to be perfect.

Finally they stood side by side, hands on hips, inspecting their handiwork.

“It’s a giant bowl,” Leo said. “We built a giant bowl.”

“So we did,” Boo agreed. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Leo had to admit, he did feel something. A sense of accomplishment, yes, but something more. Ever since the day his mother died—the day the center dropped out of his universe—he’d felt lost, spiraling off course. At times his life felt like an open wound that refused to scab over. Other times he felt like he was just stumbling through a fog, unable to make out the tracks from the steps he’d just taken. There had been times back on Earth when it felt like he might recenter, the gravitational force of his brother and father pulling him into their orbit. But before he could get fully grounded he found himself on board the Beagle, jumping from world to world with no final destination.

It seemed to Leo that the course of his life had been plotted by everyone but him.

And yet here was this. A circular wall with a stone floor and no roof, open to accept as much rain as the sky could offer, and a single plug the Orin could pull to fill their buckets and barrels. When the dry season came, this giant stone bowl would give life to the hundreds of Orin that lived in the village nearby. It was simple. Its purpose obvious. Its value unquestionable.

Boo was right: they had done something worthwhile here.

Leo felt a tug on his sleeve.

Rint was there, pointing up at the sky, baring his teeth again, though the expression seemed different this time. Leo noticed the lilac clouds had darkened, shifting to an even more violent shade. The Orin seemed agitated.

Boo sniffed at the air. “Smells like the stuff Kat uses to polish her arm.”

Leo took a deep breath. Boo was right. The air smelled clean, but in a chemical way. Like a chlorinated pool. The other Orin were quickly gathering their supplies, stuffing them into baskets that they strapped across their backs.

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