All the Difference

by Edward McKeown

  My feet hit the first step, and I paused, suddenly aware of a still figure on the porch. Maauro stood there waiting, her hands clasped in front of her. She wore a black dress that fitted her wonderfully. On her chest sat a locket of old-silver with a black stone. Her hair was upswept, pinned and gemmed with fine pins and clasps. One of these gemmed clasps was the same shade of yellow that her hair ribbon had been. She took my breath away.

  “Wrik, is everything all right?”

  I smiled at her. “Yes. I wanted some time to think, to let the wind blow the cobwebs out of my mind.”

  “May I ask what you were thinking of?” she walked close then put a hand against my chest, looking up at me.

  “About our life together,” I said, “and how we are to live it.”

  “And what thoughts came to you?”

  “The old saying, ‘love will find a way.’”

  “Love will find a way,” she repeated. “It has a fine sound to it. Doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “And do you believe our love will find a way?”

  I looked at her: mysterious, ancient and new at the same time. “It may sound foolish, but we are together for a reason. We are not chance met.”

  “Destiny?” she asked, a small smile on her lips.

  I reached out and stroked her cheek.

  “Love will find a way,” she said and I realized it was a promise.

  “Love will find a way,” I agreed, feeling doubt vanish under its power.

  “Time to go,” she said.

  Chapter 18

  As we walked up the path to my sister’s house, I struggled to keep the various lies and half-truths of my existence balanced in my mind. I carried a bottle of wine and a large bouquet of summer flowers. Maauro held a bag of presents for my niece and nephew. For tonight, in my sister’s home-she would again be Aurelia Toyama from a colony circling a dim red star, my girlfriend and part of Lost Planet.

  Maauro’s past successes at passing for a biological lifeform had been hit and miss. She’d made tiny charges in her appearance over the years—her skin tone was more realistic, her eyes ten millimeters smaller. She looked about twenty-one or so. However, it was in the increasing naturalness of her dealings with people that she’d made the most progress. Still, a dinner with my family might tax these new skills to the limit, especially with the children.

  “Worried?” Maauro said in a low voice

  I smiled. “When am I not worried?”

  “I wish I could lift that burden from you.”

  “You do,” I said. “More than you know.”

  She sighed, but smiled back at me. The houselights flicked on as we came in range of the door. Moments later, the door slid open, and my sister stood framed in the soft yellow light. She wore more formal dress than I’d last seen her in, not evening wear, but close. I was suddenly glad I’d taken my mother’s advice and dressed up for the occasion. No need to sacrifice even a small advantage to my sister.

  “Hello, Wrik,” she said, careful to give me my self-selected name.

  “Good evening, Rena,” I handed her a wrapped bottle and the flowers. “This is my girlfriend, Aurelia Toyama.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Maauro said. Since my sister’s hands were full, Maauro did not extend hers.

  “I hope that is true,” Rena said with a hint of something indefinable in her tone. “Has Wrik told you much about me?”

  “He seldom speaks of his family,” Maauro returned easily. “Most of what I have learned has been recent, and from your mother.”

  Rena nodded. “Please come in.”

  Maauro walked in behind us as we came down the hall to the living room. She paused next to Rena, who put the wine and flowers on a coffee table.

  “You’re as pretty as Wrik said you were,” Rena said, “though he wouldn’t say much more about you.”

  “Aurelia’s pretty good at speaking for herself,” I said dryly.

  My sister’s professional smile and manner showed no sign of cracking as she reached into a cabinet, and drew forth a blue crystal vase into which she placed the gold and blue flowers I’d brought. I could see her studying Maauro out of the corner of her eyes. Maauro, of course, was doing the same, though without the need to actually use her eyes to do so.

  “You have a beautiful home,” Maauro offered. “It combines many classic colonial elements with modern conveniences.”

  “And where is yours?” Rena returned.

  “Presently, wherever Wrik and I lay our heads down, but you mean originally? My home system is Wolf 940, a colony called Gloaming. It was cut off from the initial colonial diaspora. My people have drifted some from the original Terran stock.”

  “Hence those big, beautiful eyes of yours that I am already jealous of,” Rena replied.

  The robo butler sidled up to my sister’s side. I found myself grateful for the subtle changes Maauro had made to now appear to be in her twenties— those, and her upswept hair, made her appear adult enough for my sister to simply hand her a tall flute of champagne. Maauro took the glass and sipped delicately. I drained about half mine – hoping to relax the knots in my chest and shoulders. Rena matched me. For the first time, it occurred to me that beneath that mask of complete control, she might be uncertain, even fearful. Oddly, this made me feel better.

  “I can see the resemblance between you,” Maauro said, as she gazed at my sister, “the eyes, the cheekbones particularly, mark you as siblings.”

  Rena raised an eyebrow. “Mother used to say that I was a prettier version of my older brother. ‘Course it is hard to credit him as being older, looking at him now.”

  “Wrik told you of the vagaries of time dilation for us.”

  “Yes, but I’ve never heard of a case this extreme.”

  Maauro sipped her drink again. “Lost Planet travels to places other don’t dare to, and in ways others do not know. It has had some odd side-effects.”

  “Oh? Are you also older than you appear?” Rena asked.

  Maauro gave a small smile. “I am indeed.”

  Rena cocked her head. “You have the manner of someone older, or perhaps it is the experiences you have had, which seem such fantastic adventures to someone like me, who’s never even left her homeworld. Wrik tells me you were on the expedition to the Lost Colony. It’s still hard to credit that my brother Piet is the dashing Captain Wrik Trigardt.”

  “Why?” I said, before I could help myself, “because I ran out on my squadron?”

  Maauro placed a hand on my arm, urging restraint with the gentlest of pressures.

  Rena bit her lip. “Wrik—and I am still trying to get used to that— insists on picking at the old scabs on the wounds between us. I merely meant it was so amazing a tale. If, ‘no man is a hero to his valet’ is true, how much harder is it believe your own brother speeds through space to rescue worlds and dispatch monsters.”

  My face burned. “I…I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s hard to change, to stop old reflexes.”

  “But beneficial to change that which is no longer needed,” Maauro added.

  “I can’t blame you, Rena,” I added. “I was there, and I still find it hard to believe. Please forget I said anything.”

  “Would that we could both forget so much of what we’ve said,” she replied.

  The sound of small footsteps saved us from further conversation; we all turned as the children appeared outside the room, moving past the robo-butler. Cobus and Amelia wore what were clearly their better clothes. They stopped on seeing us, staring at Maauro, who regarded them with equal intent. It struck me that Maauro had never been around small children. Even when she had posed as teenager on Stauver, her companions had been other teens. How crude those efforts seemed compared to the poised elegant being before me now. Though could any simulation pass muster in such an intimate set
ting?

  Maauro bent down as the children came in, until her eyes were level with theirs. “Hello.”

  “Amelia, Cobus, this is Uncle Wrik’s girlfriend, Aurelia Toyoma.”

  “You have big eyes,” Amelia said.

  “Now, Amelia, what have I told you about saying things about how people look?”

  “But Mama, they’re so pretty. Just like the ocean.”

  “Thank you,” Maauro said. “I think your eyes are pretty, too,”

  “Have you been in space?” Cobus demanded.

  “Most of my life,” Maauro said.

  “Wow,” he said.

  “Maauro is very brave,” I added, “and quite strong for her size. She’s saved my life on more occasions then I care to recall.”

  “As your Uncle Wrik has mine,” Maauro said. “He is also very brave, but sometimes has trouble believing it.”

  The children looked at us both, goggle-eyed.

  “Hey, Uncle Wrik,” Cobus said with a hopeful tone. “Did you remember to bring those presents?”

  I grinned a big foolish grin. “I did.”

  Maauro picked up the bag from where she’d left it and passed it up to me. I drew two presents from it. The first, cunningly wrapped by my mother, I handed to Amelia. The second I’d wrapped more crudely and handed to Cobus. Both children lost no time in unwrapping their presents. Paper tore and flew under small fingers.

  Amelia pulled out a necklace of sun and moonstones, set in gold, which alternately glowed and glimmered. She held her treasure in front of her face. “Momma, look.”

  “Yes darling, it’s beautiful and very expensive, too. You must be careful with such a wonderful gift.”

  “They’re from our first trading expedition to Frosteer.” I added.

  The box disgorged a treasure that drew a second “wow” from my nephew, a long, black, evilly-gleaming blade with a silver-wrapped black handle.

  “A real Solari chitin knife!” Cobus said

  “Taken in battle from Solari pirates,” I said with a hint of pride, for all that it had been Maauro who had annihilated the pirates.

  “Momma, please put it on me,” Amelia said, waving her glowing necklace.

  Rena bent down to fasten the necklace on her daughter.

  Cobus was testing the balance of his weapon with a few practice swings.

  “Young man,” I said, with an unaccustomed authority that came from some new source, “that’s a weapon, not a toy. You wore a Commando uniform earlier, a Commando takes care of his weapons. He doesn’t play with them so that someone could get hurt.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cobus said. After all, we were men discussing weapons.

  “Now you sound like his father,” Rena said, with a note of something in her voice.

  “This is the best present ever,” Cobus said, starting to belt his new treasure on.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” Rena said. “No weapons at the dinner table.”

  “But, Mom,” Cobus protested. “Amelia gets to wear her present.”

  “Her present,” Maauro said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “is not a warrior’s weapon. Such are not for casual use or display, except by people who are unworthy of notice.”

  Something about her demeanor made the boy look at the weapon, then at her and nod. “I’ll take it up to my room.”

  I reached down and put my hand under Maauro’s elbow as if to help her up, but more to suggest that her crouched position would have been hard on someone with real knees for so long. She rose smoothly to stand next to me. I needn’t have worried about Rena noticing— my sister was glaring at me with very motherly ire.

  “A dagger, Piet? Really? A razor-sharp, murderous dagger for a nine year old?”

  “Oh, heck, Rena, when I was his age, I had a 5mm auto-repeater—”

  “Because our Father was a crazy, tyrannical—” Rena bit off the rest of what she was going to say as I stared in surprise. I’d never heard my sister voice any criticism of our father in all the years I’d known her.

  “Perhaps it would be best if we confined tonight’s guest list to those of us who are actually here?” I offered carefully.

  Rena grimaced. “An excellent suggestion. Oh, bother anyway. Cobus will be sleeping with it under his pillow and showing it to all his friends. You’ve made him the talk of all his buddies for weeks.”

  “It’s a big deal at that age,” I said with a shrug.

  “I guess you would remember,” Rena said.

  Amelia tugged at her mother’s skirt. “I’m going to go and show Daddy.”

  “Yes, and tell him that company is here.”

  The little girl scampered off.

  “Grieg will be down in a minute,” Rena said. “I’m afraid we had a bit of a scare. Grieg’s flitter had an engine failure and came down in the woods. Despite all the safeguards!”

  “Is he ok?” I asked, anxiety biting me.

  She nodded. “Cuts, bruises and sore, of course.”

  “He was fortunate,” Maauro said, “it could have been much worse.”

  The robo-butler returned with a fresh tray.

  “More champagne?” my sister asked.

  All of us relieved the square machine of fresh glasses.

  Rena ushered us into a comfortable room with a small fire burning in a stone hearth. We settled on overstuffed leather chairs. Rena complimented Maauro on her dress and seemed bemused that my mother had helped her with her hair.

  While the children raced into the room with noisy enthusiasm, Grieg paused at the bottom of the stairwell just outside the doorway to the room. He looked pale and shaken, a few bandages and bruises showed around his clothes.

  “God, Grieg,” I said, rising. “You didn’t need to dress up for us after a crash. If we’d have known, we’d have rescheduled for another night.”

  “No, no,” he said. “I’m fine, and I wouldn’t deprive my wife of her brother’s company after so long.” Though the words were open and friendly, his face was tight, and I suspected he was in more pain then he cared to admit.

  “Grieg,” Rena called. “Come meet Wrik’s girlfriend, Aurelia.”

  Maauro rose and smoothed her dress demurely. She was flanked by the children who had decided she was the most fascinating person in the room. There was a table between her and Grieg, and she seemed in no hurry to cross the room.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Maauro said. “I am glad the accident wasn’t worse, and that you are safely home with your family.”

  “Yes,” he said slowly. “I wasn’t sure I would see them again for a while.”

  “Thank God you made it,” I added.

  Grieg nodded. His eyes kept coming back to Maauro but not in a lewd look. Well-schooled as his political face was, I felt sure I saw a hint of fear. It was impossible that he’d caught on to Maauro’s true nature on the basis of a few second’s acquaintance. Perhaps he was still feeling the aftereffect of his recent brush with death in the flyer.

  Chapter 19

  A few minutes after Grieg enters, Wrik and his sister are in deep conversation with the children about their knees. I make a motion to catch Grieg’s attention and gesture toward the terrace nearby, overlooking the gardens. We’ll be out of earshot of the others, distracted as they are. For a moment it looks like he will refuse to go, then, with a look of resignation, he too drifts toward the open double doors.

  I note the sonic curtain that keeps insects out as I pass through the doorway. The house’s refinements bespeak more wealth then his public balance sheets reflect. This is true of the extensive gardens below, filled with rare and exotic flowers that require considerable care.

  Grieg is a few steps behind me and stops just out of, what he may imagine, is my reach. His fear of me is now better masked, but remains detectable chemically. This is good for his sake, as it m
eans he needs no reminders of my powers.

  He stares at me in disbelief. “You. For a while, I thought you might be merely a nightmare.”

  “I can be,” I return, my voice low, “remember what I told you.”

  He pales.

  “While we are alone,” I begin. “You will provide me all information you have on Lilith, her location, assets, and intentions.”

  He turns a grim face toward me. “I won’t betray the Freeholders.”

  “I do not ask you to,” I reply, “I have no interest in your rebels. Your commando is an irrelevant force, with an obsolete ideology and foredoomed to failure. My only concern is Lilith.”

  His eyes glitter with anger at my dismissal of his compatriots and their prospects, possibly because he realizes it is true. Indeed, I begin to perceive that he knows this is true, and his involvement has to do more with domestic politics rather than rebellion. While few support an obviously hopeless battle with the Confederacy, the romantic myth of the past can reap dividends to one seeking election in a land where intolerance has held sway for so long.

  He turns away but watches me sidelong. “Or what will follow? Will you tear me to pieces as you did the others?”

  I return his stare coolly. “While I have done such before, I did not do so with your comrades, a small detail of death perhaps, but one that seems a particular horror to your kind.

  “You are perhaps feeling braver because we are here at your well-lit house, but unless you wish to remain within these four walls forever, you are not safe from me. Look at the porch light.”

  He does.

  I turn it on and off remotely. “I can as easily do so with anything computerized: a flitter, an elevator, or an aircar. Not that I even need to do that; I could simply have you arrested by Confed Military Security. There is abundant evidence of your little company of rebels strewn over the battlefield. Your DNA will be on some of it and, if not I can arrange that it be.”