Clockwork Memories Read online

  If I was forbidden to see Sumiko, it was logical that was the deed I needed to pursue. She had been trying to tell me something before Jacques used his secret weapon on her and caused her to faint. Not only that, but I didn’t know her state of health, and I feared for her safety. I paced my room, trying to think of a way out. A way to her. I kicked a broken leg of chair out of my path and nearly tripped over one of my pairs of drawers.

  After washing the stink of chiramantep off me, I searched every nook of the room for a way out. There were no loose panels, tools for dismantling the rivets in the wall, nor did I know of any commands within my computer console to unlock the doors. I had lived so long among the Tanukijin tribe, such knowledge of my own people’s technology was limited.

  I stared at my monstrous reflection in the mirror. Even in lady’s clothing I wasn’t much to look at. The longer I stared, the more of a chill stole over me. I rubbed at my arms, considering how I’d never felt so cold onboard the ship before. It was then I realized cold air came from the vent beside the mirror. The heating in the ship must have been turned off, but the air flow was still on.

  I peered down at the grate where the breeze came from. There was something about the notion of vents that was a vague tickle in my mind. It reminded me of Meriwether in some way, something from his memories. He and I had exchanged memories so many times the previous night, I wondered if he had given me a memory with something about air vents. Yes, an idle thought from the memory of when he’d climbed over the wall to the outdoor onsen. He’d sneaked about the space station using vents and shafts.

  A grate peeked out from between the dresser and the mirror. I shifted the mirror over. There were no bolts keeping the vent cover closed, but it wouldn’t budge when I pried at it with my fingernails. I resorted to using an ivory comb, wedging it between the cover and the wall to pry it off. It gave a fraction, so I tried the other side of the cover. Slowly, I wiggled it loose, breaking several of the comb’s teeth in the process. Once I was able to slip my fingers under the lip, I pried it off by hand the rest of the way. The interior was made up of a narrow tunnel that ran beside the wall. The space was too narrow for a bustle and heavy skirt.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the door. Someone might walk in at any moment. Even so, I had to risk it. I undressed down to my chemise and corset. I could only imagine what would happen if I were to get stuck inside. Of all the unlady-like things, I would be found in my undergarments.

  I shook the thought away. My brain was fatigued from excitement and lack of sleep. I had to focus.

  I stretched my arms into the length of the little tunnel and squirmed in. I wiggled into the shaft behind the wall, my clothes snagging on bolts and tearing. I shimmied farther down the passage until I came to the quarters next to mine. I peered through the slats. The room beyond was dim, but I could make out the open wardrobe with an array of Meriwether’s clothes.

  “Sumiko,” I whispered. There was no answer. If she was asleep, it made sense she wouldn’t reply. Of course, if she wasn’t in this room, she also wouldn’t answer. I pushed at the vent with my hands. Seeing that had little effect, I scooted past the grate and used my knees. Even with the chemise and pantaloons to cushion the hard edge of the metal, the grate dug into my legs. It gave an inch. It screeched as I pushed it out another inch. When it finally came free, it fell to the floor with a loud thunk. I froze, fearing I had given myself away. To my relief, no feet came running.

  I squirmed my way out. The room was dim, but not dark. A light was on at Meriwether’s study. The porthole above Meriwether’s bed showed a view of metal wall. It was the bay where the ship was housed.

  Sumiko lay on the bed underneath the window. I rushed to her. She looked as I had seen her last, unconscious but uninjured. At least I hoped she was only unconscious. She was so still I couldn’t tell.

  I placed a hand on her cheek. She was warm, so that seemed a good sign. Her kimono was tied and in place, which led me to believe she hadn’t been touched by any Frenchman. She moaned and turned her face away from my hand.

  “Are you well?” I asked.

  She started to shake her head, but stopped and put a hand to her temple. I fetched the pitcher and poured her a cup of water. It was hard to believe only one night before I had been here with Meriwether, and I’d used the same cup to sip out of. Yesterday felt forever away.

  Purple bruises colored the side of her face. I stroked her hair away from her eyes so I could see the damage. No cuts at least. It was times like this when I was the one taking care of her that I remembered I was the older of the two of us. She was Taishi’s little sister, not even twenty-four. I had to keep her safe. He’d never forgive me if I let harm fall upon her.

  “What did Jacques do to you?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I think there is a machine inside him. And some kind of light. Now I feel like I have drunk too much shochu.” She handed the cup back to me and lay down again. “Iya! I despise that man.”

  I knew as much already, though she hadn’t initially been forthcoming on why. Could it be that he had been her lover and he’d not only lied to her, but spurned her? She’d never wanted to marry or start a family, but I also knew she had secrets. I was certain she’d had lovers even if she didn’t tell me who they were.

  She took in a tremulous breath and sighed. The way her eyes watered, I thought she might cry. I couldn’t recall ever seeing Sumiko cry in her adult life.

  This matter required the utmost delicacy. Yet we couldn’t afford the luxury of time, and I feared I would have to be blunt. I curled up next to her and hugged her. “We are in a dangerous situation, and we have to figure out how to get out of this mess.”

  She laid an arm over her eyes. “I know. And it’s all my fault.”

  “I need you to tell me about you and Jacques. You’re his lover, and you made a deal with him. Is that it?” I lifted my head from her shoulder and peeked at her expression. She stared at the wall, the beatific smile on her face that she always wore when she wished to remain unreadable.

  “Sumiko?” I prompted.

  Her voice was calm and steady. “No, I am not Jacques’ lover. You are.”

  Chapter Nine

  There are two ways of seeing: with the body and with the soul. The body’s sight can sometimes forget, but the soul remembers forever.

  ―Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Alpha Centauri

  “What? That’s impossible.” I gaped at her, unable to process her words. Surely she jested. Yet her face remained calm and her eyes lacked the usual amusement they held when she was playing a trick on me.

  She fidgeted with the collar of her kimono. “No, you just don’t remember.”

  “How can I . . . ?” I swallowed. “Memory moss?”

  She turned to me. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. Including keeping your secrets from you. Even when I think there’s folly in it.”

  Shame burned in my eyes. “What have I done?”

  “My brother knew we were up to something. We disappeared for two days the first time we went to meet Jacques. You’re not very good at keeping secrets. You wear your thoughts on your face. Taishi Nipa knew something was amiss. I wouldn’t have even included you, but I knew you spoke French.”

  Her voice was so quiet I had to lean in closer to hear. “Why didn’t we tell Taishi?”

  “Do you think he would have let us conspire with arms dealers? His solution was to stay hidden and let the gaiyojin fight amongst themselves for our land.” She used the polite term for off-worlder now. “Ever since the war on our people began, we’ve only come out of hiding to fight in small skirmishes when necessity dictates us to do so. No one dares trust any gaiyojin who come to us. I hate to say it takes a gaiyojin to trust a gaiyojin, but it is so. Ne?”

  Or perhaps she meant a fool to trust a gaijin. I shook my head.

  “Jacques made many promises, including to come back for you. If he had kept his word, you and I might not be here this day. He did not delive
r the arms either. Not that we were paying him in anything precious to us. It was just in chiramantep stones.”

  The red diamonds.

  “My suspicion is that his chief goal was to get information out of us. The swindling of chiramantep stones was just an added benefit. I now doubt he ever had any means to provide my people with weapons. But at the time, we were willing to take the risk. You were certain this man who claimed to love you would follow through.”

  Now it was my turn to cover my face and moan.

  Sumiko patted my shoulder. “You are not a good liar and after several rendezvous, my brother’s suspicion rose. We might have hidden the fact that you weren’t in your rooms with an excuse that you were unwell or vexed about some small matter and would not see him, but without either of us to look after Michi, she tended to run wild. Grandmother Ami did her best, but she couldn’t manage our niece, and it became quite clear we were absent.

  “It took time to travel to our rendezvous point, as we didn’t want any outsiders to know the location of the Tanukijin palace. All of this I might have covered up on my own, but your inability to lie convincingly was a problem. The last time you met with Jacques, he convinced you to give him your memories so that you wouldn’t have any that might incriminate you should my brother—or off-worlders—question you. He took everything, every shared moment between you and him, every thought of his existence, and all knowledge that you held regarding the agreement you made.” A wry smile played across her lips. “It was so easy for you to do this, since you have a natural ability to share memories easily—too easily. That is how it is with dosha kuzure, a memory mudslide.

  “In order to complete this secret, I couldn’t speak of him at all. Had you not asked me to do this yourself beforehand, I would have refused.” Her voice rose. “Ei! That is a lie. I would have kept him a secret from you anyway. His visits were sparse and left you sad and pining for him every time he came. You were always watching the sky on clear nights for the signal he had arrived and wished to meet. You wanted this man you couldn’t have, and I alone knew how this longing was eating away at you. I wanted you to forget about him. I wanted things to be like they once had between us. Any memories he didn’t take. . . .” She swallowed and took a labored breath. “Remember when we promised each other we would live as old maids together and die unmarried?”

  I nodded. Sumiko had joked about that many times. It had been no jest to me when there was no man I wished to marry.

  She rolled away. I scooted closer and propped myself up on an elbow to try to see her face. A tremor belied her calm voice and she squeezed her eyes closed. “I’m a bad person, I know. It will not surprise me if you hate me after this.” She swallowed again. “I stole from you in the hope that we could live happily again. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

  “No, Sumiko, I’m not mad at you. I asked you for this. I understand you were trying to help.” I squeezed her around the waist and kissed her cheek. It had angered me when Meriwether had taken my memories, but he’d been a stranger, and I hadn’t given him permission. Sumiko knew me better than any other. She’d always looked out for me on Aynu-Mosir. It was hard to be vexed when she cared so much that she would wish to take my pain away—and no doubt the severity of my indiscretions.

  She shook her head. “You don’t understand. What I did is a crime. I knew it was wrong and against my people’s ways, and I did it anyway. If my brother knew, it would dishonor my family, and he would be punished for my actions. Your sister, our niece, and Taishi would be exiled. I would be put to death.”

  I couldn’t tell if she was serious. The Jomon could be so overdramatic with their shame. “Hush. I’m not saying a word to anyone. I’m not mad at you, so no one needs to know, do they?” I kissed her temple like I would to console my own sister.

  She squeezed my hand. A hopeful smile tugged at her lips as she turned to face me.

  I considered all she’d told me. My voice came out hoarse and cracked. “How long has it been since I last saw Jacque?”

  “Over a year. More than enough time to deliver on his word.” Her mouth set in a grim line.

  I shook my head. No wonder Meriwether had believed I was working with the French. Somehow word of it had gotten back to him that I had.

  “I’m the one who should be ashamed, not you.” I gave her arm one last pat and rolled onto my back. “I can’t believe I trusted that man.” Jacques’ smug smirk flashed before my eyes.

  A smile curled to Sumiko’s lips. “He isn’t all bad. You said he was a good lover.”

  I cringed. “He has compromised my virtue? What was I thinking?”

  “You were thinking it was very nice.”

  I covered my ears. “Ugh!” How horrible to know that I was a wanton strumpet ruled by passion. I hadn’t been a virgin the night Meriwether and I had our tryst in the bed of memory moss on Aynu-Mosir. I’d blamed my lack of enjoyment on my own inexperience. Now I suspected my fiancé must have been truly inept in bedding women if that was the case. What a depressing thought. Especially considering I had come to like him—to love him.

  Then again, our dalliances on the ship had been an improvement. Wasn’t a man with less experience who was willing to try to please me better than a rake who cared only about himself? I pushed such thoughts aside. Now wasn’t the time for weighing the merits of suitors. My preoccupation with lust was alarming. Surely I’d spent too many years amongst the Tanukijin and their lascivious ways had rubbed off on me.

  Sumiko crossed her arms, suddenly looking vexed. “He must have thought it was pleasant as well. In the last few hours of this reunion, Jacques has treated us more civilly than the rest of his tribe, though it might risk his position with them.”

  “I think you mean the crew. Yes, there’s that.” I thought of the way he’d kissed me. It made my stomach flutter at the very thought. I wasn’t sure if it was a good flutter or the kind one feels before they vomit. Probably somewhere in between. “He might still feel some affection for me.” Otherwise I doubted he would have been so forward.

  “Don’t let yourself get caught up in that again. Jacques loves himself first and foremost. Only second to that is his love of wealth.”

  I’d gathered as much from his conversation with me. “There are things I must tell you,” I said. “Things that transpired while you were asleep.”

  I related the events since she’d fainted, how I’d found the captain dead, disguised as Meriwether, and how the star charts had changed as we headed for Lord Klark’s space station. I explained my idea for a subspace message to Lord Klark and how Jacques had attempted to seduce me. Sumiko’s face grew more stricken by the second.

  “I’m most concerned about Meriwether’s intentions with us. He may have had reason to lie to us about the course, but I can’t ask him why now,” I said.

  Sumiko rolled her eyes. “Do not let yourself fall victim to another man’s charm. We have other matters to consider.”

  “Indeed. Like how to escape.” I sighed in despair. The notion felt like an insurmountable ice cliff, closing in on all sides. How I would have preferred another boring Aynu-Mosir winter to all this drama.

  “Did you hear how those gaijin talked about us like we weren’t even in the room? They think we are simple.” Sumiko lifted her chin. “We will show them not to underestimate us.”

  “Oui, we are just stupid females,” I imitated.

  She cracked a smile. “It’s time you learned to use guile. I need to teach you how to suck memories from someone during memory exchange.”

  “Sucking memories? That sounds revolting.”

  Sumiko slid from the bed. “My people consider it to be so. Stealing memories is the greatest of crimes. But in this case, you must. We need an advantage over our captors. We need to know what they know. I will teach this to you so that you might seduce Jacques and steal back your memories and more.”

  We practiced memory thievery.

  Sumiko faced away from me and turned toward the brown and yel
low striped wallpaper next to the bed. She lay half submerged under a pile of blankets, her kimono loosened enough that her shoulders were exposed and covered with sticky green paste.

  I was already drowsy from the first three times we had practiced memory stealing. I wasn’t very good yet. The first two times I hadn’t been able to take anything. Only the last time I’d been successful in taking more than Sumiko had intended to give me. It was unlikely I was ready for this next step.

  Sumiko wiggled her kimono lower down her back. “Place your hands on me as through you are going to give me your own memories.”

  “What if they catch us?” I asked. They might barge in on any moment. As if finding us together wouldn’t be risky enough, but finding her in a state of undress was far worse.

  “Shush. You worry too much. I’ll punch anyone who tries to hurt you.”

  I didn’t fear as much for my safety as hers. The fewer clothes Sumiko wore, the more I feared she might put lecherous thoughts into the minds of immoral men.

  She poked me in the ribs. “Hurry, anata,” she said, using her nickname for me. “We don’t know how much time we have to practice. We must gain an advantage.”

  I applied the memory moss to my hands. The lemon-lavender-mint aroma filled my nostrils. What a relief I’d left the box of supplies in Meriwether’s room or else I’d have had to squeeze back into the air vents to retrieve it.

  I imagined pulling memories out of Sumiko. Nothing happened. “This isn’t easy,” I said.

  “Just so.” She explained, “This method is more challenging because this isn’t the way memories travel. Ordinarily, the giver has to place her hands on the receiver’s torso, near the heart. This method is backward, and the thoughts are flowing the wrong direction, so it will be more difficult.”

  I stared at the graceful line of her spine and her slender shoulders. She was small, but compact, with muscle that one wouldn’t suspect lay under her usual attire. It was hard not to admire her unblemished body—or her cunning mind. Someday I would paint her as a dryad or nymph about to lure a man to his death.