“You can use either, but I prefer Wrik.”
“Please tell me those bags mean you came to stay.”
“For tonight,” I said. “But don’t worry,” I added, when I saw panic flash on her face. “I’m not going anywhere for a while. Still got a lot to do here. One day at a time.”
She nodded. “Yes, one day at a time.”
Maauro, potential destroyer of worlds, followed my mother docilely into the kitchen. I sipped the tea. The dog peeked in through the pet door.
“Here, boy,” I said. “It’s safe now.”
Dinner was a strange affair. My mother whipped up a surprisingly good, but simple fare of shepherd’s pie, with fruit and ice cream for dessert. We probably all hit the wine a little too hard, but there was giddiness in the air. A faint mist of old wrongs and grievances battled with forgiveness and the possibilities of the future. I had to credit my mother with keeping the references to what had happened since my departure mostly free of accusation and guilt. Truth was, Maauro seemed the most relaxed and served as something of a buffer against our past. She answered all of my mother’s questions about her past, including some that had never occurred to me to ask. I could see what had happened with Jaelle, Dusko, Olivia and Delt happening with Mom. The more they spoke to her, the more they reacted to her as if she was the young woman she seemed to be.
We talked for hours, covering the time apart in no logical order and notably avoiding some topics, such as my sister. Finally, my mother seemed to flag.
“It’s late,” I said. “And we will be here tomorrow.”
“Promise?” my mother asked, her eyes suddenly sharp on me.
“Promise,” I said raising my right hand.
“You too?” my mother asked Maauro, who looked surprised at being addressed.
“Yes,” she said, after a moment’s hesitation. “I will be here in the morning.”
“Good,” Mom said. “I’ll clean this up and fix the spare room.”
“We’ll do this,” I countered. Maauro and I made short work of the dishes and cleaning while my mother disappeared upstairs. We grabbed our bags and joined her on the second floor. At the top left, was a small bedroom with a painting of a shore scene and a white, metal, four-poster bed and two small dressers. Just outside was a bathroom.
“Is that all you have, Maauro?” my mother asked, looking at the small bag.
I grinned. “Another advantage of artificial life, Maauro travels with less stuff than any girl I’ve ever known.”
“And you, Wrik. Do you need anything?”
“Toothbrush and spare clothes are in the bag.”
“Well, Maauro can stay here. I’m afraid it’s the couch for you.”
We looked at her patiently.
“Ah,” she said. “Or, well, you could stay together.”
“We have not yet worked out a standard method for cohabitation,” Maauro observed, “but I would like it if we could stay together. I will be certain not to do anything radioactive.”
Now we both looked at her.
“Robot humor,” she added.
Both mother and I laughed a little raggedly.
“Well good night, son,” mother hugged me. “Maauro,” with only the slightest hesitation, she hugged her as well, then left with the puzzled expression that I expected would be her usual face for some time to come, closing the door behind her.
I put our bags on the dresser. I washed up and then joined Maauro again. She was looking at the four-poster.
“The bed is marginal in structural integrity for my weight,” she said. “I can remedy that in morning with some reinforcements after I ingest some local metals.”
“Good,” I said. “I’d like for you to be able to sleep next to me, well you know what I mean…”
She smiled her soft, gentle smile. “Yes.”
I stretched out on the bed. Maauro sat on the floor, next to me.
“Maauro?”
“Yes?”
“Are you ok? It’s been quite a day.”
“It has, but I judge it to be a good one. It is difficult for me to say with certainty but your reconciliation with your mother seems successful.”
“Successfully started,” I replied. “Wounds like these don’t heal overnight.”
She nodded.
“Did you scan my mother?”
“Yes.”
“Is she… is she sick? She’s so thin, and she’s aged a lot.”
“I detected no disease process.”
I sighed. “Then it’s what happened that did this to her.”
“I take her at her word that she feels she failed you, as a result she holds herself accountable for not defending you against your father and other enemies. Until now, she believed that she would not see you again, or worse, that you had died, alone and uncared for. Even for a machine like me, it is not difficult to understand that such a breach of duty would have deleterious effects.”
“I should have come back sooner.”
“With our battles with the Guild and the Infestors, and the five years lost in the Artifact’s time distortion, the earliest you could have returned was two years ago, and we faced the Seddon expedition then. I suspect that most of this damage was done long before. Perhaps now that she knows you live and have succeeded, she will reacquire her vitality.”
“Mom was pretty,” I replied, “always wearing the best fashions, always so careful with her hair and skin. Used to drive the old bastard crazy, ‘How can you expect to live on the Veldt and act like a city woman,’ was one of the kinder things he’d say.”
“Your father has too little acquaintance with kindness. He needs correction,” icy menace underlay Maauro’s voice.
Oh-oh. Time to change the subject.
“I’m glad you are here,” I said. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” My eyes began to droop as the emotional weight of the day caught up with me.
“Perhaps it was recognizing me as a person, wagering your life that I could defeat my programming and choose freely, and treating me with love,” she whispered.
I smiled. “Oh, those.”
I felt a gentle touch against my face from hand capable of shearing steel. “Yes, those.”
I dropped off to sleep.
Chapter 12
The sun striking through the window woke me. I lay wondering where I was for a few seconds, then realized I held a warm hand in mine. I shifted and saw Maauro, her green eyes reflecting the light, watching me. She smiled, then rose smoothly, wearing her usual closefitting jumpsuit with its orange and dark-gray panels. She shimmered and was suddenly in a white shirt and denim pants. “We should go downstairs; your mother has been up for quite a while.”
I sighed, realizing I probably looked like biological hell first thing in the morning. Thank God for the enzyme cleaners that kept breath fresh and teeth clean. Still, a shower was a good investment of time. I found it just outside, well-supplied with towels and a robe. A few minutes later, I was toweling my hair dry and dressing in the most casual things in my bag, dock pants and a light shirt.
My mother had doubtless awoken early, wondering if it had been just a dream. Maauro, however, waited for me to dress before going down. I had the suspicion that she was reluctant to face my mother without me nearby. Well, she wouldn’t be the first female to feel so.
We came downstairs. My mother wore better clothes, in pink and white, and had taken more care with her appearance. She hugged us both. I could see she’d set the table with a nice cloth, a bit much for breakfast, but it was more like the mother I had known.
“What would you like? Quor eggs, flapjacks, or I could make biscuits too?”
“Whatever is easy,” I said, and Maauro nodded.
“Is there some metal around that you are not using?” Maauro asked my mother.
Mom�
�s eyebrows shot up but she nodded. “There’s some old scrap in the shed out back. I’m not even sure what it is. It was there when I rented the place. What do you need it for?”
Maauro smiled. “I ingest metals and other substances. Some I convert to energy; others are reprocessed by my internal factories into items I need.”
My mother’s face was a study in utter bewilderment. “You can…,” she began slowly. “Ah. You can…consume anything in the shed except my garden tools and the mower. Start with anything rusty.”
“Thank you,” Maauro said as she walked past the dog, which gave her a bare glance as she opened the screen door.
“Ah, will you still want breakfast, dear?” Mom called after her.
“Yes, please,” Maauro threw over her shoulder.
Maauro was as promised back in time for breakfast. She went upstairs with some reinforcing bars she’d made for our bed before joining us on the veranda for eggs and biscuits.
“Mom, that was great,” I said, chasing the last of the eggs around with a biscuit.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Maauro nodded. She’d also done justice to breakfast, to my mother’s bemusement.
“So what is the plan for today?” my mother asked.
“No plans for just now,” I said. “I can only do this so far and so fast and, despite a good night’s sleep, I don’t have much in the tank.”
“People will notice that you’re here,” Mom said hesitantly. “What should I tell them?”
“Say as little as you can. I’m trying to keep my return quiet until I see my squadron mates. After that, I don’t really care. But all the stuff I told you about Lost Planet and the Stardust is public record, as is the name, Wrik Trigardt.”
“While I believe the subterfuges about my identity and past are close to becoming irrelevant,” Maauro interjected, “for now, it would be best if you use my identity as Aurelia Toyama. The name Maauro is connected with the expedition, but we have sown confusion about who that was. It should suffice for now. There are no good photos of me, and we did borrow an HCR to show people as being the ‘Maauro’ who fought the Destroyer, absurd though that was.”
“Oh, I don’t know, I thought that was pretty clever,” I returned. “I’ll grant that it wasn’t much fun whipping up a dye that would work on its monofilament hair.”
“Clever,” Maauro said, raising an eyebrow, “that characterless, lobotomized, Tinkertoy passing for me?”
“Did I say clever? I meant desperate,” I said.
“So you want me to introduce you as Aurelia?” my mother persisted.
“Yes, for now,” Maauro said, clearly unhappy with the idea.
“Ok,” Mom said. “I have one of those friends. You know, telephone, telegraph, tell Ruatha. She’ll get the word around. We’re a good group of neighbors, everybody will keep things quiet. I’ll talk to her later today.”
“Good,” I said, not bothering to conceal my relief. Nothing in my life as refugee, criminal, and now spy, had given me any liking for the press. “Life is complicated enough just now.”
The conversation turned to lesser issues. I learned a lot about what had happened on my homeworld and in my mother’s life. After the divorce, she’d come to Glen Cove. My father had cut her off without a cent, but she still had an inheritance from her family and managed to eke out a living working at a doctor’s office.
“I do worry about the rent going up on this place,” she said. “Rena has helped me by investing the money. I never had a head for finance. But it does seem to get harder each year.”
“So you’re in touch with her?” I asked.
Mom’s lips thinned. “Yes, your sister and I have managed. Not always well. Wrik, I think she regrets—”
I raised a hand. “Not now.”
My mother looked as if she might argue. She glanced at Maauro, who suddenly seemed to find the crochet work on the tablecloth of great interest. Then she nodded.
We chatted on about minor things until Mom proposed a walk. Glen Cove had been a fishing town, and there was still a dock and a few commercial vessels tied up there. I saw more sailing craft around, catamarans and similar small vessels, than industrial fishers. I remembered my last time at sea back on Earth, held by Maauro as she sped under the Pacific like a torpedo to escape the Confed base we’d broke into to steal the Seddon information. I found myself with little desire to go to sea again.
A boardwalk of small shops caught Maauro’s interest, and she and my mother perused the goods. We watched children play on the sand, enjoying a restful morning for strained souls.
Afterwards, we headed back to the house for lunch. Maauro slipped away to finish work on the bed as I helped my mother clear the table. When I brought the dishes in from the kitchen, my mother placed a hand on my arm. “You’ve seen your father, Delt, and now me. What about your sister?”
I shook my head, my stomach knotting. “Rena wasn’t much of a sister. She was the first to turn on me, right after my father.”
My mother turned away. “Both you children grew up too much in your father’s shadow. I don’t think you understand how much she wanted to please him, just as you did.”
“Enough,” I said sharply. Then, instantly regretting my tone, “Enough, Mom. I’m sure she no more wants to see me than I do her.”
“Son,” my mother said with firmness in her voice I had not heard before. “You asked me to forgive you for twelve years of silence. Twelve years when I didn’t know if you were alive and miserable, or dead under some star I couldn’t even see. Twelve years when I didn’t know if I would ever see my child again, or die with my sins on my soul.”
I saw it coming but there was no avoiding the trap. Truth was whatever she asked me, I owed it. I nodded.
“See your sister. Give her a fair chance, then consider any debt you feel you owe me paid in full.”
I sighed and put down some teacups in the dishwasher. “If it will make you happy…”
“It will give me peace,” she said, “which is far more important.”
“Wrik,” she continued after a moment’s pause, “I know you are fond of … I know you love Maauro, and she seems very sweet. But I’m not sure the first time you see your sister is the place for her. That was rage I saw last night when she learned of the headstone…she was talking about tearing people limb from limb and I don’t doubt her ability to do so.”
I smiled. “She’s a tad overprotective, I’ll grant. But though I would trust her with Rena, I don’t trust Rena with any information about Maauro. So I’ll leave the two of you here to get better acquainted.”
Mom grimaced. “It will take some getting used to a possible mechanical daughter-in-law.”
I was too startled to reply. I hardly knew what to call what Maauro and I had become. I loved her, and she returned that feeling, but the gulf caused by our differing bodies remained. It had never occurred to me to think beyond those aspects of life. Maauro and I had lived in our own little bubble for so long.
My mother seemed to sense my confusion, and she waved a hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll look after her. I’m sure I’ll enjoy getting to know so unique a person better.”
I nodded. “Where do I find Rena?”
Wrik comes up the stairs. I can tell from the heavy, reluctant, tread of his feet that something has happened. While I can eavesdrop on all conversations in the house, I have not done so out of respect and must await word in the usual fashion. I let nothing show on my face.
“I have modified the bed,” I offer, as he comes through the door.
“Good,” he says, clearly distracted. “Listen, I hope you don’t mind, but I got myself roped into something.”
I wait patiently.
“My mother has asked me to go see my sister. I don’t want to, but I feel I owe it to Mom.”
“If you are here to make pe
ace with your past, then perhaps it is as well to make peace with all parts of it,” I say.
He grimaces. “That sounds so reasonable and sensible. So why am I reluctant to do it?”
I put an arm around him. “However reasonable it is, it will be painful.”
“Yeah. Now please don’t get mad, but I’m going to go see Rena on my own.”
“I sense your mother’s involvement in that decision,” I say.
He nods. “It might have something to do with threats to tear people limb from limb. I’m not worried about it, but I think she’s still having a hard time dealing with the reality of who you are.”
I like it that he always says “who” and not “what.” I consider. “We must honor your mother’s wishes in this, though I dislike the separation.”
A relieved look steals over his face. “Good, I’m glad you’re not upset. Truth be told, I’m not sure I want to expose you to Rena. She was pretty vicious when I saw her last.”
“Do not worry for me, my feelings, such as they are, are pretty resilient.”
“Well, if you say so.”
“I do.”
“If I leave now, I can get this done and be back in time to try out our new and improved bed.”
“Then you should do so.”
“You want to walk back with me to the plane?”
“Yes, it will give me peace of mind if I participate in the preflight.”
“Okay,” he replies. “I’ll get my flight jacket and tell Mom what’s going on. See you downstairs.” He leans down and kisses me again. It appears this is now a standard part of our relating, punctuating any separation longer than a few minutes. I like it.
Chapter 13
My sister, it turned out, lived only an hour’s flight from Mom’s house on the sea. I called ahead and had the Magister refueled and prepped. Maauro came with me and inspected the aircraft in minute detail.
“Worried about something?” I joked.
She turned to look up at me from the nose wheel. “Let’s see: primitive aircraft with no AI worthy of note, inadequate world network and a biological pilot. Hell, why worry at all?”
All the Difference Page 12