The Moonwalker

Chapter 12

ᖃᓪᓗᓈᖅ. Qallunaaq. A white person.

Someone who isn't Inuit.

The icon is small, but Aula recognizes Sophia's face. She stares at it for a long time, hands limp on the keyboard. It's hard to divine anything from a small picture. They haven't spoken to each other in years. It's quarter to midnight on ILUB-2, which means it's quarter to eight in the evening in Iqaluit. If Sophia still lives in Iqaluit. Even that's an unknown now. She still remembers mornings there. Wide horizons, deep quiet, rosy dawns, snow blued by shadows, and rows of houses with private shipping containers out back. The sky would be bright and the air would be cold. It really felt like they lived at the top of the world.

She breaks years of silence with hi.

Skyline shows a response is being typed. It takes nearly 10 seconds to cross the gap between Earth and the Moon.

Vid chat?

Aula massages the inside of her right hand. The nail on her middle finger is ripped ragged from the inside of her EVA gloves. She stares at it for a beat, then clicks the video button. The screen blanks for a moment. Then Sophia's face appears. Her hair is loosely tucked behind her ears, which stick out just a little. Her eyes are one shade shy of black. Her face is round and prone to smiling. Even now, Aula can see faint dimples. The small window shows her own face lit up and openly staring.

"Hi," she says again.

Sophia blinks and smiles. "Hello."

They look at each other from two different bodies in the solar system.

"I know this is strange, but when I heard about the accident—"

"It's fine," she says quickly. "So long as you don't mind the bill."

Sophia laughs. She has a contagious, open-mouthed laugh interspersed with the odd snort. It's one of the more ridiculous sounds to leave a human being. She ducks her head and wipes her nose with the back of her hand.

"I don't mind it."

A shiver passes through her body and is suppressed. When she lifts her head, her eyes shine with moisture.

Aula frowns. "When did you find out?"

"Just now. I didn't know if your personal account still worked."

"It does." She rubs the back of her neck. "Obviously."

"Were you really hit by a meteor?"

"We were hit by debris from a meteorite. Much less dangerous."

Sophia shakes her head slightly. "Of course."

"I heard you won at the Sundance Festival last year," Aula says abruptly. "Congratulations."

A rapid succession of emotions cross Sophia's face, then smooth away. "Thank you."

Aula presses her lips together and stares at a patch of wall just above her laptop's camera. The familiar alloy of anger and guilt roils hotly in her belly. This time, most of it is directed at herself.

She opens her mouth to speak, but a door opens and shuts in the background. Sophia turns as the shadow of someone offscreen slips across the opposite wall. There's a flash of a green coat and the rapid fire of Inuktitut.

"Ai, Aama." Hello, Mom.

"Ai."

A face pops sideways onto the screen. The girl is no more than ten and has the same glossy black hair as Sophia. Her expression closes and she leans back out of view. She speaks too fast for Aula to understand, but her tone says everything. Sophia's expression sets and she nods towards something off-camera. There's a tsk that requires no translation, then the squeak and thump of a door closing. When Sophia turns back to her computer, her smile is brittle.

Aula clears her throat. "Anaaya's growing. I nearly didn't recognize her."

"Me neither."

Her finger starts to twitch again. She flexes her hand to stop it. "How is she?"

"Good." Sophia's eyes crinkle at the edges. "Dad took her hunting on the ice this winter. Now she's determined to do it again. I don't know who to worry about more."

"Why let them go? There's better ways to hunt."

"Other ways," she rebukes gently.

The silence that follows must cost three dollars. Aula sits up straight, face hot, side aching.

"I didn't mean it like that."

Sophia tucks errant hairs behind her ear. "I know."

It's a familiar gesture that highlights the endearing way her ears stick out from her head. Aula flexes her hand again and focuses on the ache of her overtaxed muscles.

"Sorry."

Some of the tension drains from Sophia's face. She accepts the apology with a nod and her eyes rove the screen for something. She must find it because the corners of her mouth curl upward.

"Remember when I took you out onto the ice?"

"I leave Earth for a living and that still scares the shit out of me."

Sophia laughs her ridiculous laugh. After the second snort, Aula covers her eyes and starts laughing, too.

"You kissed me."

"A little."

She smiles despite herself and looks down at the keyboard. Letters and numbers glow in the dimness of her room. She remembers the deep blue water, the creaking ice, the thrill when their skidoo left the ground. One miscalculation and they could've drowned.

She inhales through her nose. "Can I ask you a favour?"

"You can ask."

"Can I.... Can you let me know how Anaaya's trip goes?"

A knowing look crosses Sophia's face, which makes Aula's face heat all over again.

"I'll call you next week, qallunaaq."