by M. D. Cooper
A half-sob, half-laugh shredded its way out of Finaeus’s throat. “Brother-mine, you’ve always been an ass. He was just more of an ass. And to think that I built Airtha for him.”
“The diamond ring in the Huygens System?” Jeffrey asked. “You really made it?”
“I did.” Finaeus ducked his head in acknowledgement. “Then he gave it over to her—though I suppose I know why, now. He’d been under her control since, what, she got back?”
Jeffrey shook his head. “Not that long. When I was placed in stasis a thousand years ago. She’d been ‘back’, as Airtha, for some time. But I was trying to help her, bring her back to who she’d been before she left.”
Finaeus could hear the anguish in his brother’s voice, and he pursed his lips, nodding slowly. “I understand…”
“Do you?” Jeffrey said sharply, turning his head, eyes locking on Finaeus’s. “She was my wife! Kirkland said I should kill her, that she was a spy from the Core; you were on the fence, if I recall.”
“For good reason,”
Jeffrey’s lips set in a thin line, and then he sighed. “I suppose you were right.”
“I never abandoned you, though,” Finaeus said. “You—well, he—exiled me, but I didn’t stop trying to help you.”
“Seemed to have worked out well for you,” his brother replied, a small smile alighting on his lips. “I saw your new wife in the reports Tangel gave me access to. She seems pretty amazing.”
Finaeus chuckled. “You have no idea. The things that woman can do…I swear, she’s invented some new branch of physics. But you’re not the only one with a past wife causing problems.”
“Who? Josephine? I thought she went off to the Sagittarius arm, joined a monastery or something.”
“No,” Finaeus shook his head. “Lisa.”
“Lisa? She’s dead,” Jeffrey said bluntly, then caught himself. “Sorry, Fin. My mouth gets ahead of my better sense sometimes. But…?”
“I encountered three clones of her,” Finaeus replied quietly. “Garza is using them as some sort of elite strike force.”
“Fucking clones,” Jeffrey muttered. “Doesn’t anyone remember the old stories? Those things are dangerous.”
“I wonder, though,” Finaeus mused. “What if….?”
“What if it was a clone that you saw die? Was Garza cloning back then?”
Finaeus considered the possibilities. Examinations of the Garzas that the ISF had captured showed them to be products of the Hegemony’s cloning technology—something ancient from before even the Intrepid’s time—which the Hegemon had found in a vault deep within Luna. The Lisas had been products of the same tech.
“Maybe?” he said at last. “I don’t know, Jeff. I should remind you, however, that you have two daughters aboard this very ship that are clones.”
“Three,” Jeffrey replied coolly.
“The first Sera is no clone,” Finaeus corrected.
Jeffrey shook his head. “She’s the daughter of a clone…and she was clearly altered by her. Stars, Finaeus, Sera is Jelina’s spitting image.”
Finaeus nodded. “You—well, the other you—told me that was on purpose. Always seemed a bit odd, but we didn’t have a close relationship at that point.”
Neither man spoke for a minute after that, both staring out into the darkness, as a tug pulled a spool of carbon nano-fiber cabling around the a-grav buoys.
“Do you remember that night?” Jeffrey’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“There have been a lot of nights.”
“Luna. Under New Austin’s dome. We were watching them build High Terra.”
“The night they laid the final section onto the substructure,” Finaeus replied with a nod. “Yeah, you said something monumentally stupid that night. ‘Finaeus, why aren’t we doing this in other star systems?’ or something like that.”
“Close enough, yeah,” Jeffrey replied. “That was the night we conceived of the FGT. Now…we’ve done all this. This is all our fault.”
Finaeus snorted. “Sometimes you amaze me, Jeff.”
“What?” Jeffrey asked.
“You’ve got enough hubris for a whole star system. If we hadn’t started the FGT, someone else would have. Humanity wasn’t going to stay bottled up in the Sol System forever, and you know it.”
“Yeah…” Jeffrey’s voice trailed off. “But maybe someone else would have done better than us.”
“Jeff…” Finaeus shook his head and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You can’t think like that. We’re not responsible for everything that everyone does. We built worlds for humanity.” He swept his hand across the view. “Every star you can see…. Over half of them have humans living in their systems. Most of those are FGT systems. We spread the human race across space. But that’s what you have to remember; we didn’t seed some sort of perfectly content group that never gets into trouble, we seeded humans.”
Jeffrey let out a derisive laugh. “Maybe we should have seeded dolphins everywhere instead.”
“Well, we did put them in a few corners here and there,” Finaeus replied with a wink. “I’ve checked on them a few times; they’re doing well. People found one group, and now folks go there to get modded into sea creatures and live with the dolphins.”
“Really?” Jeff asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re shitting me or not.”
“I’m not—this time, at least. It’s out near Deneb. Inner Stars, but close to the fringe. Hopefully far enough away from all this mess.”
“Lotta mess,” Jeffrey said with a nod.
Another stretch of silence fell. It was comfortable, like it used to be between them, back before Jelina, before the Schism.
“So what do I do?” Jeffrey asked.
“Pardon?”
“You heard me. What should I do? How do we deal with this mess?”
Finaeus only shrugged in response, and Jeffrey’s brow lowered.
“That’s all I get?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think you should do, what do you think you should do?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “That’s where I’m hung up. Should I really turn over the Transcend to Tangel?”
“It’s not yours to turn over, Jeff.”
“Whose is it, then? Sera’s? She barely wants the job—I could see that after talking to her for just a few minutes. Too much of her mother in her.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Finaeus said with a shrug. “It’s Sera’s responsibility right now. You can’t just take it from her. That’s not how this works.”
“You seem OK with working under her. Why didn’t you take the reins?”
Finaeus barked a laugh. “Are you kidding me? Run the show? Stars, no. It would be like the worst engineering job of all time: one where nothing ever gets done, and everyone complains constantly. Not in a million years.”
Jeffrey chuckled. “Honestly, that’s a bit too charitable. It’s really far worse. What about Tangel? She’s…interesting. Did you know her? Before?”
Finaeus ducked his head. “Sure did. Honestly, she wasn’t a lot different. Just spoke with two voices instead of one. She’s the real deal, though.”
“Should she be governing the Transcend?”
“Governing?” Finaeus shook his head. “The Transcend doesn’t need to be ‘governed’, brother mine, it needs to be led. Do you remember when we brought the FGT together, back at Lucida? When we built our first extra-solar shipyards and sent out our own worldships?”
Jeffrey set his jaw and nodded.
“Well, that’s the sort of leader we need again. But if you can’t do it, if that’s not in you anymore—and if Sera truly does not want to lead, then I think we should put Krissy in command.”
“Your daughter?” Jeffrey asked. “I saw some reports about her. She seems like a competent commander.”
“And a good leader,” Finaeus added. “Loyal, too.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Fin. Sounds like she does you pr
oud.”
“You should feel the same way about Sera. She’s a bit unorthodox, but she’s passionate, and her heart’s in the right place.”
“It’s so strange,” Jeffrey said with a far-off look in his eyes. “She knows a version of me—one that I get the impression wasn’t a great father figure—but I don’t know her at all.”
Finaeus clasped his brother’s shoulder. “Well, Jeff, there’s only one way to rectify that.”
“And the others?” he asked. “I understand that they’re being released from medical soon. I was clean, but they were mentally shackled. It took a bit to free their minds.”
“I heard that,” Finaeus replied. “Regardless of how you feel, all three Seras still look at you and see ‘Dad’. You’re going to have to learn how to live with that.”
“Would be a lot easier if they weren’t Jelina’s spitting image.
“I’ve learned to live with it. You will, too.”
THE NEW RECRUIT
STELLAR DATE: 09.19.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Intrepid Space Force Academy
REGION: The Palisades, Orbiting Troy, New Canaan System
Cary and Saanvi stood on Concourse C outside Gate 11, waiting for their new charge to exit the passenger ship that was easing up to the airlock.
Faleena walked toward them, holding three coffees and an orange juice.
“Do you think she likes orange juice?” A look of worry creased Faleena’s delicate green features. “I figured she probably doesn’t like coffee; most people her age don’t drink that, right?”
“Not usually.” Cary chuckled at the worry etched on her sister’s face.
“I think everyone likes orange juice,” Saanvi added, a comforting smile on her lips while she shot Cary a reproachful glance. “It’ll be fine.”
“It’s just weird,” Faleena continued, her words coming out so fast they were barely enunciated. “I mean, she’s just a kid, and honestly, we’re just kids, too. Are we old enough to be responsible for another being?”
Cary placed an arm around Faleena’s shoulders. “Moms and Dad entrusted me with you when you were only weeks old. If I can manage a baby AI in my head, I bet the three of us can deal with an eleven-year-old girl.”
Saanvi rolled her eyes. “You clearly don’t remember what you were like at ten. How many times did Dad make you muck out the stalls as punishment?”
“Stars, don’t remind me,” Cary muttered. “I think I smelled like horse shit that entire summer.”
“And fall, and winter…”
Cary glanced at her sister to see a broad smile on Saanvi’s lips. “You’re a bucket of ha-ha’s.”
“I’m here all week. Try the veal.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Cary said, turning to watch as the airlock cycled open, and an automaton stepped out, gesturing for the passengers to follow.
“You’re so uncultured,” Saanvi retorted.
“Your version of culture involves watching flat-vids and reading books where people say ‘whom’. I’ll pass.”
Saanvi shrugged. “Your loss.”
“Hush, you two,” Faleena said, peering through the disembarking throng. “There she is!”
“Amy!” Cary called out, waving to the young girl who was stepping uncertainly over the airlock’s threshold, peering around her while clutching a small bag to her chest. “Amy, it’s us!”
Amy’s eyes fell on Cary and her sisters, and a look of relief washed over the girl’s face as she rushed toward them. Then she stopped short, standing awkwardly a half-meter away.
“Seriously, Amy?” Cary asked, then stooped down to scoop the girl up in an embrace—one that Saanvi and Faleena joined in on. “Stars, it’s good to see you again.”
“You’re squishing me!” Amy squeaked, but Cary could tell the girl was happy to see them.
“Sorry-not-sorry.” Saanvi winked mischievously. “How was your flight? How’re things in Albany?”
Cary set Amy back down and took her hand, leading her down the concourse toward the maglev platform that would take them to their quarters.
“Good, I guess. Rika left to go to some place called Sepe; she’s hunting the Niets that escaped Albany. Mom and Barne are getting ready for another bunch of mechs that are coming from the Politica…er, Kendo, I guess it’s called now.”
“What’s wrong?” Saanvi asked, peering into Amy’s face. “I heard that your mom is only going to train them, and then she’ll be coming to meet up with you here.”
The girl snorted. “Seriously? Would your mom run from a fight?”
“Uh…well…” Cary stammered, uncertain what the right response was.
“What makes you think your mom is going to go with the mechs into Nietzschea?” Faleena asked, deflecting Amy’s question with one of her own. “She left them once to be with you.”
“Yeah,” Amy nodded. “But things were different then. Now that they’ve met up with your people, well…”
“Is there something she’d go into Nietzschea for?” Faleena pressed.
“My brothers,” she admitted quietly. “She thinks they still might be alive—even though my father said their dead. ‘Course, he was a fucking asshole, so who knows if they are or not.”
Cary was taken aback by the vehemence in Amy’s voice, but she had trouble faulting the girl. They’d been told about the abuses she had suffered under her father’s care, many of them administered while her mother was watching. The fact that Amy was a functioning person and relatively well-adjusted was a miracle in and of itself.
Cary supposed she might curse someone who did that to her, as well.
Suddenly, growing up in the shadow of the great Tanis Richards doesn’t seem so bad.
“Well, if she does go looking for them, I wish her all the luck. I know a bit about wondering where one’s family is,” Saanvi said in a soothing voice. “We’ll be waiting for her here.”
Amy glanced up at Saanvi. “Aren’t you training to be ship captains? That’s what my mom told me.”
“Well, eventually,” Cary replied. “We have a ways to go.”
“When you go, I’m going with you,” Amy declared. “I won’t stay here waiting. I need to be in the fight.”
“War is no place for kids,” Faleena said as they reached the maglev platform and stepped aboard a waiting maglev car.
“You don’t understand.” Amy’s voice was almost pleading. “I have to get out there. I’m done hiding.”
They were filing into the back of the car, moving past several seated passengers, when Amy tripped and reached out to grab the back of a seat.
She didn’t fall, but Cary spotted a series of red streaks on the girl’s forearm. She was about to ask what they were from, when Saanvi reached out to her privately.
Cary nodded, and engaged Amy in trivialities as the maglev took them through the Palisades, up from Ring 7 to their quarters on Ring 3.
Though they still had two years to go at the academy, Cary, Saanvi, and Faleena had been granted their own quarters due to their unorthodox training and responsibilities.
Cary was sure there was some grumbling about it, but at the same time, she had also heard rumors circulating that she could read minds, and that some people didn’t want to bunk with her.
Saanvi seemed unaffected by the scuttlebutt, and Cary wished she could brush it off like her sister did.
When they finally reached their quarters, Cary showed Amy to her room, which was the first one on the left off the common area.
“Do you have anything else coming?” Cary asked, as Amy set her bag on the bed.
She shook her head. “This is all I have.”
“Well then,” Cary grinned at the young girl. “We’ll have to go on a shopping trip tomorrow.
Get you whatever you want.”
Amy flushed and shook her head again. “I don’t—it’s OK. Really.”
Cary drew in a deep breath and closed the door before sitting down on the bed, patting it in request for Amy to sit down beside her. When her charge complied, she asked, “Do you want to tell me about the cuts? I saw them on the maglev. It’s OK, you’re not in trouble. I even did it a few times when I was your age—well, a bit older, but you’re more mature than I was at eleven.”
“What?” Amy asked, frowning. “Why did you cut yourself?”
Cary hadn’t expected the admission to come back on her so quickly, and she stammered. “I—I don’t really know. I felt like I wasn’t…worth it? I figured it was what I deserved for not being perfect. I wanted to feel. Reasons that don’t make much sense when I say them aloud now, but they seemed…inescapable back then.”
Amy’s face reddened, and she shook her head. “That’s not…I’m not doing it for that.”
“No?” Cary asked. “Why then?”
“It’s stupid,” she said as she turned away.
“No, Amy. If it’s important enough for you to hurt yourself, it’s not stupid. Tell me. Please?”
Amy folded her arms, hunched her head low, and spoke in barely a whisper. “I want to be like her.”
Cary’s eyebrows knit together. “Like who?”
“My mom!” Amy whispered hoarsely. “I want to cut my arms off so I can be a mech and be with my mom!”
The girl’s words completely floored Cary. She had no idea what to say in response. “I…uh…I’m not sure…”
“That’s why I agreed to come here.” Amy turned and fixed Cary with a stare beyond her years. “I want you to train me to be a warrior. Then I can join the Marauders. That’s where I’m supposed to be.”
Cary’s first instinct was to talk Amy down, to try to convince the girl that she was on the wrong path. But the cold fire in Amy’s eyes told Cary that there would be no convincing this young firebrand of anything.
Not yet, at least.
“Well, then,” Cary looked Amy up and down. “The first rule of a warrior is that your body must be kept in peak fighting condition, whether it’s organic, mechanical, or somewhere in between. You can’t be an asset to your team if you’re damaged. So if you want me to train you, the first rule is no more cutting.”