by Neal Jones
Ben finished his casserole and set the dishes in the reclamator. He walked through the living room to Emalie's bedroom where Jennifer was tucking their daughter into bed.
"Hi daddy!"
"Hey, bugs. What story would you like tonight?"
"Tootles! I want Tootles! Daddy, can we get a puppy? Mommy said I had to ask you, and Joss had a puppy today for show-n-tell, and he had big eyes, and I petted him lots and he liked to lick my hand and it felt funny –"
"Okay, okay, remember you have to be quiet to listen to me read."
Jennifer leaned close and turned her cheek. "Give mommy a kiss."
Emalie obeyed and then mother left father and daughter alone.
Two and a half stories later, Ben emerged from the bedroom to find his wife staring at the HT screen. There was no sound so he glanced at it to see what she was watching, and he was surprised to see it off.
"Jen?"
She glanced up.
"You all right?"
She gave him a wan smile. "Just thinking."
"About the puppy idea?" Ben started gathering up the stray toys that Emalie had missed during her cleanup before bedtime.
"No. But as far as that goes, we're not getting a dog."
"Why not?"
"Are you serious, or are you trying to start an argument?"
He tossed the toys into a bin next to Emalie's door, and then joined his wife on the couch. "Yes, I'm serious. We can find one that's already housebroken, and I think she's old enough to start learning some responsibility."
"No, you just want a dog because you think that's going to fix what's wrong with us. We're already having another baby, remember? I don't need the extra responsibility of a puppy on top of everything else."
"So there's something wrong with us?"
Jennifer sighed. "I don't want another argument. I'm too tired."
"Good. So am I. So why don't we have a talk instead?"
"No. We're just going to end up in a fight. Let's just watch a movie or something."
"Jennifer, look at me."
She reluctantly obeyed.
"This has gone far enough. I think you and I should see a counselor."
"I already told you I'm not going to a shrink. There's nothing wrong with our marriage, Ben."
"Then how come all we do is argue?"
"Because you don't believe me when I tell you that I'm fine."
"Because you're not fine, and every time I try to help, you shut me out."
Jennifer reached for the remote. "I don't need your help." She began surfing the channels on the HT.
Ben grabbed the remote and shut off the screen. "Look at me, Jennifer!"
"What?" she snapped.
"I want to know why you're so damn unhappy!"
"Because I hate it here!" She checked her anger, taking a moment to collect herself. "I want to go back to Earth. I want you to request a reassignment."
"No. We've already had this argument and settled it."
"No we didn't. We just put it on hold. If you don't request a reassignment, then I want to move back to Earth with Emalie and the baby. When your tour here is finished you can join us."
Ben stared at his wife. "You're serious."
"Yes, I am. You broke your promise to me, Ben, and it might not have been so bad if you would have discussed it with me first, but you didn't. I'm tired of uprooting every three years, I'm tired of always having to find a new job, I'm tired of being so far away from home, I'm..." She trailed off in frustration. "I'm just tired!"
"You knew that's what it would be like when you married me. We agreed that we wouldn't be one of those families that was split all the time, that you would all come with me on my assignments."
"I know! But I –" Jennifer stood and paced, her anger and frustration tying up her tongue.
"But what? After ten years, it's become too hard?"
"Yes! I want to settle down, Ben. And not on some outpost or a starbase. I don't even care if we have a house or a nice apartment in the city, just as long we're planetside."
"On Earth."
"Yes, on Earth."
"And another two years is just too long for you? I know I promised that this assignment would be Earthside, and I'm sorry. That's the last time I'm going to apologize. I promise you now that my next assignment will be at the Academy or something else back home."
"Don't. Don't promise me anything. It doesn't matter anyway. I've made my decision. As soon as the baby's born, Emalie and I are moving back to Chicago. We'll stay with my sister until I find someplace permanent."
Ben was too upset to respond. He stood and turned his back to her but didn't walk away.
Jennifer sighed, feeling for the first time in a long while something besides frustration and sadness. She realized that she genuinely loved her husband, and she didn't want to break up the family. But this was something she had to do. It was the first decision she'd made in the last three months that felt right, and she tried once more to explain it to him. "I need this, Ben. I need to start building a home someplace permanent. I want Emalie to go to the same school for more than just two or three years. I need to start building a life and a career for myself. I've given you ten years, now it's my turn. And I'm sorry if that's selfish, but that's the way it is. I don't want a divorce, but I can't stay here." She wanted to say more, but she hesitated, not sure what to add. "Ben?"
He faced her, and the look in his eyes made her chest ache. "Fine. I get it. Just promise me that you'll wait for a month or so after the baby's born. Give me some time to get to know my son."
"What makes you think we're having a boy?"
He smiled, and something about his expression at that moment reminded Jennifer of when they were dating. Ben would get that look when he had a surprise in store for her, usually dinner at a fancy restaurant or an expensive birthday gift.
"The same way that I knew our first was going to be a girl."
Jennifer laughed, an involuntary reaction but it still felt good. "Oh really?"
"Yes. Really." He reached for her hand, and she didn't pull away. "Is this settled then?"
"I don't know. It feels like we're even."
He released her hand and walked back to the couch. "You still in the mood for a movie?"
"Sure." She snuggled against him as he pulled up the menu and began browsing. She could sense Ben's unhappiness at her decision, and there was a part of her that enjoyed that.
Yes, they were finally even.
( 4 )
"That dress is too small on you," Messani remarked as she watched her daughter fidgeting while crossing the street.
"It is not!" Aliira replied. "It just needs some alterations at the sleeves and the waist. I'll do it this afternoon when we get home."
"I made you that dress three years ago. I think you've outgrown it. I can make you another one."
"But I like this one!"
Messani sighed and mussed her daughter's hair. Aliira swatted at her hand as they approached Shil'Ra Generith who was standing on the steps of his church, welcoming the members of his congregation. The morning was bright and warm, with a clear sky and just a hint of a breeze. Despite all of her fears about the immediate future, Messani felt a sense of calm and inner peace enveloping her as she neared the stone steps. Worship service was her favorite time of the week, and she was especially eager this morning to hear Generith speak of his visit to the Conclave of Thardane the day before.
"Good morning, Shil'Ra," Aliira said.
"Good morning, Aliira. Messani. How are you today?"
"We're doing very well, thank you."
"I heard about your decision regarding the farm, and I'm available after the service if you'd like to talk."
"Thank you, Shil'Ra."
Generith turned to greet another family while Messani and Aliira continued into the sanctuary. The service wasn't scheduled to begin for another hour, yet the auditorium was nearly packed. More were still coming, thanks to Generith's new popularity, and they w
ould most likely remain outside, gathered beneath a tent that had been set up in an empty lot next to the church. A portable viewing screen had been set up to allow them to view the service.
Aliira pointed to a space in the second row, next to the center aisle, and Messani nodded. After they sat, Aliira began chatting with Shyato who was in the row behind her. Messani greeted his parents, but she wasn't in the mood for a long conversation. She opened her copy of The Holy Covenant and pretended to read, but she couldn't get her mind off her decision to sell the farm and move into Osth. The peace and calm she'd felt moments before outside seemed to have dissipated once she stepped into the auditorium.
It didn't feel right. It felt as if she was giving up too easy, as if she wasn't willing to wait on the Varashok to see what Their will was for her. Messani looked up at the huge mural that covered the rear wall of the sanctuary, behind the pulpit. It depicted the five Gods of the Varashok - the Father who gives wisdom; the Mother who gives love; the Maiden who gives virtue; the Warrior who gives strength; and the Priest who gives Sight - in a stately and regal pose. They were arranged in a half circle, grouped around a kneeling Tor'Ahl whose head was bowed in reverence.
The gift of Sight. It was supposed to be a power within one when one surrenders his or her soul to the Varashok. Sight is part of the miracle of salvation. Messani had been waiting for months now to hear the voice of the Priest within her, listening for His guidance. But she felt nothing. Or maybe the Priest had spoken, and she simply hadn't heard because her mind and soul were too clouded with the chaos of worry, sorrow and regret.
Messani bowed her head to pray just as Shil'Ra Generith ascended the steps to his pulpit to begin the service.
( 5 )
Chey'Und Ixsal glanced both ways before starting across the street. She was late for worship service, and she grimaced as she realized that she would have to sit in the overflow tent next to the church. Small crowds had gathered outside the church, and Ixsal realized as she got closer that there wasn't anywhere to sit in the tent. Generith's fame was even more wide-spread now that he'd returned from his meeting with the Conclave of Thardane.
Ixsal stood as close to the door of the tent as she could without crowding the others close to her, and she listened to Generith's benediction. He then led the congregation in a song, and as Ixsal lent her voice to the chorus she glanced up at the sky. Storm clouds were gathering above the church, and the crowds that were collected around the steps of the sanctuary were also looking up at the darkening sky. They stopped singing and began murmuring to one another about the unusual and sudden change in the weather.
The wind picked up. A spear of lightning jolted through the gathering storm clouds, followed moments later by a clap of thunder. The boom echoed like an avalanche of boulders in a quarry, and it shocked the congregation outside and in the tent. The cloud cover was now spread completely over Osth, and day was turned into dusk. Yet there was no rain, only more lightning and thunder.
( 6 )
The parishioners inside the church had stopped singing and were looking at one another in surprise and curiosity. The thunder resonated with enough fury to rattle the window panes, and Generith raised his arms and his voice.
"It's all right, children. I'm sure this is a malfunction in the planetary weather control grid. Sit down and remain calm. I will go call our local weather office."
But just as he started to descend from his pulpit, the air became silent. Flashes of lightning could still be seen through the windows, but there was no thunder to echo them.
( 7 )
Outside, the wind had suddenly died, as if someone somewhere had thrown a switch. The air was completely still, and the eerie silence made Ixsal suddenly, irrationally afraid. She didn't believe that this was a malfunction of the PWC grid, and she could see her fear reflected in the eyes of her fellow parishioners. All around them, arcs of lightning struck the ground, the trees, the church, and the tent, but there was no fire, no destruction.
Not even a sound.
( 8 )
"Mother, what's happening?"
Messani put an arm around Aliira's shoulders. "I don't know, but I'm sure that we'll be fine. This is just a malfunction. That's all."
Generith saw the fear and restlessness in his congregation as they watched the light show outside. Some were praying, others conversing with those around them, and some had left the auditorium to step outside and get a closer look at the sky. The Shil'Ra motioned for Grann, who was in the first row with his wife and son, to go make the call to the PWC office.
Messani was suddenly feeling claustrophobic, and she turned to Aliira to suggest that they join the ones who had gone outside. But she was stopped by a white light that seemed to fill the auditorium. It was overwhelming and utterly blinding. It was like looking directly into the sun, and Messani used one hand to cover her eyes while keeping her other arm around her daughter's shoulders. There was a clap of thunder that also seemed to resonate from somewhere within the sanctuary, and while it seemed loud enough to shatter the windows, no glass burst the panes. There were voices: screaming, crying, hollering, mass confusion.
Messani lost her grip on Aliira. The girl was next to her one second and then gone the next. Messani dared to open one eye, and she discovered that the light had faded to a tolerable degree, though far from completely dissipating. The clamor of voices around her had also diminished as the others opened their eyes to see what was happening. Messani looked up and gasped with alarm.
Aliira was suspended in mid-air by an invisible force. Most of the light had gathered into a column around her, and her eyes were closed, her expression serene. She appeared to be asleep. Her arms and legs were outstretched and hung limp. The bony ridges on her forehead, which had only recently begun to fully develop as she entered adolescence, were melting away, like fresh bread dough that is smoothed out beneath a baker's hand during kneading. In their place, just above the bridge of her nose, a symbol appeared. It was etched into her skin like a hieroglyph, and it blazed as bright as the light that surrounded them all.
Messani wanted to reach out to her daughter, but her entire body felt like a dead weight. It was as if gravity in this small pocket of the auditorium had been altered. She could still hear the exclamations of those around her, but the sound was a murmured din, as if the volume in this altered space had been turned low.
The column of light that held Aliira exploded outwards, blinding all within the sanctuary, and time resumed its normal pace. The sound was turned up again, and there was one final crack of thunder before the light disappeared completely.
( 9 )
Outside the church, the storm clouds dissipated as quickly as they had gathered, and the wind died. The morning was clear and warm again, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. Ixsal wandered away from the tent to the middle of the street where she had seen several bolts of lightning strike the pavement. There wasn't so much as a burn mark. The other parishioners were also wandering about, chattering excitedly about what they had just witnessed.
( 10 )
Messani cried out as she ran to her daughter. Aliira was lying on the floor in front of the altar, her body turned on one side, her eyes closed. Her mother rolled her on her back and gently patted her cheek.
"Aliira! Aliira, wake up!"
There was no response. Messani held her hand over Aliira's mouth. She was still breathing. She repeated her daughter's name, slapping her cheek more forcefully, but there was still no response.
A crowd had gathered around them, and Messani looked up at Generith. "Call an emergency team! We need to get her to a hospital!" She lifted Aliira and cradled her against her chest, rocking her back and forth as she whispered her name over and over. Someone told the crowd to get back, to give her some space, and Generith returned moments later to tell Messani that a crew was on their way.
( 11 )
Messani sat in the holding room, staring into her lap, her fingers busy twisting a tissue around and a
round. She was singing softly to herself, a lullaby that she used to sing to Aliira when she was a little girl. Chey'Und was beside her, one arm draped around her shoulders, and Shil'Ra Generith was also close by, reciting a healing prayer. It had been over two hours since the emergency crew had brought Aliira into the hospital, and Messani's attempt to see her daughter or even talk to the doctors had been futile. The com screen on the far wall was displaying a local news feed, and the unusual weather incident at the church was already being reported on.
When the doctor entered the room and called her name, Messani didn't hear him at first. "Messani," Chey'Und said, tapping her arm to get her attention.
Messani glanced up, and as soon as she saw the doctor she leaped to her feet. "Is she all right? May I see her?"
Doctor G'San nodded. "Yes, but she's still unconscious. I can't understand why. Her vitals are stable, there's no head trauma, no toxins in her system, and all bioscans show negative for bacterial or viral infection. There's no reason she shouldn't be awake." He paused.
"What?" Messani prompted. "Is there something else?"
"Come with me."
G'San led Messani out of the holding room and across the emergency ward to one of the exam rooms. She sat down at her daughter's bedside, smoothing her hair away from her forehead and tenderly stroking her cheek. The doctor directed her attention to the bio-monitor.