by Far Freedom
The scene faded from the projection screen in his mind and a panic seized him as he realized he saw the face of his father and already it dissolved from memory. He rushed to catch up to his father, to get in front of him, to stare at him for as long as he could, but his feet couldn’t move fast enough, or exist long enough. As the glare of the desert plain faded into the dimness of his detention room, Pan satisfied himself with what he did remember. He had a father he loved, and some terrible thing caused him to go away forever. He lay back down on the floor, ignoring the furniture in the room, and waited for sleep or for another journey into a lost memory.
“I put on a good show, didn’t I?” Mnro asked.
“I’m quite proud of you,” Mnro said.
“I’m scared,” Mnro admitted.
“I know you are,” Mnro agreed.
“Do I dare call on Etrhnk? When was the last time we talked to him? What did we talk about?”
“I would have to look at the appointment database. We may never have spoken to him. My memory is no better than yours.”
“That’s your penalty for being a copy of an old woman who wasn’t in the prime of her life.”
“What will you say to him?”
“I don’t know. He’s in his flagship, orbiting Earth?”
“Yes. What are you thinking?”
“Don’t you know? Who do we have who can be an entourage?”
“The usual bodyguards, perhaps a deputy or two from the Clinic. How about half a dozen gardeners?”
“If we get their hands clean and dress them up. Let’s call Ramadhal and see how nosy he is.”
“I plan to sleep for at least a century.”
The first cloud of the day threw a shadow across her face.
“That’s too long, isn’t it?”
“I’ve just followed the plan, done what I’m told. I like you as a Latina.”
“I’ve just tried to find a little happiness. I… think I like you as a…”
“All I could manage is dark skin and brown eyes. I’m afraid of being recognized.”
“I recognized you.”
“I know. I saw the dread in your eyes.”
“No! I’m honestly happy to see you, Aylis. I’ve missed you terribly.” She was happy but she did dread. She knew what this unexpected meeting must mean.
“And I missed you, Zak. I think of you every day.”
She believed Aylis but she could hear the dread in her voice.
There was a marching band parading by the far perimeter of Jackson Square. It had two sousaphones, two tempos, and two moods. The woodwinds and percussion played a slow, sad tempo, then the brass would push the tempo fast and merry, with the sousaphones bellowing. She saw Jamie reacting to the distant band and was pleased that she liked the music.
“But isn’t your little girl a bit too Caucasian?” Aylis asked.
It was a question leading to the dread and she answered with a hopeless attempt to avoid the consequences. “Her father was European. He looked a lot like her.”
“You speak of him in the past tense. What happened?”
“He’s gone. I don’t want to talk about it.” He was gone, yes, but even his memory could be in jeopardy.
“She reminds me of someone. Why didn’t you tell me about her? She’s really quite adorable. How old is she? What’s her name?”
“She’s six years old. Her name is Jamie. I adopted her when she was a baby.”
“Adopted her? You’re not her biological mother?”
“I wanted to be.”
“You’ve had her all this time without my knowing? Why couldn’t you let me know?”
“You’re so busy and important, Aylis. I know that’s no excuse, but…”
The dark woman sighed and put her arm around her shoulders. They sat on a park bench amid the planned fall of autumn leaves, in New Orleans, L4, watching children play. “You don’t trust me,” Aylis said.
“I’ve remembered the plan. I don’t want to sleep. I’m seventy-seven now and I was never a mother.” It was the same as saying the memory editing failed. It was the same as saying she had already violated The Plan. It was the same as saying, “Kill me.”
Aylis withdrew her arm and took one of her hands. She squeezed her hand gently. “You know I know who Jamie is. Jamie isn’t in The Plan.”
“Oh, Aylis, don’t! You can’t take her away from me! She’s my whole life.”
“If you look at me you’ll see tears in my eyes. I’ve been dreading this day ever since I found out about Jamie. It’s my last personal duty before I go to sleep.”
She looked at this familiar face and saw tears brimming in brown eyes that should be blue and rolling down brown cheeks that should be pale. Her own tear ducts exploded. She held hands with Aylis and waited for the storm to pass. It irritated her that she calmed down so quickly, that she gave up her small rebellion so quietly. She wanted to scream, to somehow demonstrate dramatically the tragedy of the moment. But she knew that Aylis understood. She wiped her face. She hugged Aylis hard, then stood up and found the strength to call to Jamie. Already she could imagine the pain she would feel when she looked upon her daughter’s face for the last time. If the imagined pain was this terrible, what must the real pain be?
Jamie came running to her over the green grass of the park, leaped into her arms, and looked at Aylis crying. “Mama, what’s wrong with her? Who is she?”
“She’s Mama’s best friend - after you. We’ll visit her and see lots of interesting people and things.” Aylis knew she gave birth to Jamie, but at least she had these wonderful six years of never being alone.
She had to remember.
She had to remember.
She had to remember!
“Jamie!” She could barely hear herself above the rush of the wind. Samson
stirred against her. “Jamie,” she said again, locking the name in her memory.
Rafael was awake. “Who is Jamie?”
Shredded clouds raced across a brilliant gibbous moon which illuminated snow on the mountain slopes. They lay on the ground in the lee of a boulder, huddled together for warmth. Fidelity moved her head closer to Rafael’s in order to converse more easily. Samson lay between them.
“A child,” she struggled to answer. She almost said more, she was so distraught. Now she had a name and it was her daughter’s name! She had lost her. How many more people had she lost from her life? Why couldn’t she at least have coherent memories of them to relive before she died?
“Another flashback that you don’t want to admit is really yours?”
“They’re all so sad.”
“There must be a reason they’ve returned to you now. Tell me about them. I can’t sleep in this wind.”
“I suspect others are listening, others who might use the information against me. I’m sorry I can’t tell you. I’m sorry you got dragged into this, Rafael.”
“I don’t mind! Verdad! This is quite an adventure, yes?”
“For someone who sat behind a desk for thirty years, it’s too much adventure! It may snow. Daidaunkh is still too exposed. I need to get more straw.”
Fidelity got up and picked her way through the rocks until she came to a down-slope field of dry grass rippling in the moonlight. She cut the tall grass with Daidaunkh’s knife, angling piles so the wind wouldn’t blow most of it away. The clouds thickened as she worked, dimming the moonlight. She gathered the straw into a large armload and turned upslope. Only a few steps toward the rocks the ground opened below her and she fell.
“Who is Jamie?” a deep male voice behind the bright light inquired.
Fidelity barely realized a transmat had grabbed her. She lost her balance but was still intact and properly reassembled. She was tired. She sat on the transmat node under the light, like a specimen on exhibit. Her augmented eyes filtered the light and brought the image of a dark Navy officer beyond the light beam into focus. She stood up amid the scattered straw, brought herself to military attention, and saluted Navy
Commander Etrhnk. “Admiral, Jamie is the name of a child.” She didn’t care that her voice said other things as well. She didn’t feel like filtering all of the rediscovered nuances of meaning out of her voice, so that she could play at being a dead admiral.
Etrhnk came forward into the bright light, quite near her, literally breathtakingly close. She exhaled, trying to decide if it was fear or some other stimulus making her fatigue evaporate. She was never this close to him. She felt compelled to study his features, as if seeing him for the first time. He was tall and darker of skin than herself. His eyes brushed over her - he seemed to avoid looking directly at her - and she glimpsed some expression she couldn’t analyze, still unexpected for its mystery. “You’re real.”
“I’m not an image, Admiral Demba. Am I so naked to your scrutiny?” He knelt on one knee and began gathering the straw into a pile at her feet. She wondered at this action - his gathering of her dropped grass. She wondered why he was close enough to touch. The transmat node would have defensive armaments, of course, yet he was so close… “What is the significance of this child? I watched you sleeping in the moonlight. It startled me when you shouted out this word, this name. You continually startle me, Admiral Demba.”
She remained silent and at attention, looking down upon his bobbing head.
Etrhnk continued to gather straw, now walking on his knees around her as he brushed and grasped at the straw, piling it before her. “No need to stand at attention, Admiral.” The Navy Commander stood and backed away from her.
She met his eyes finally and didn’t see what she would have expected. He was looking at her, not at a Navy admiral he needed to punish. She also saw something else: he wasn’t pure Essiin, perhaps not Essiin at all. She should have wondered how she could be such an expert on physical heredity, but she spoke before giving it enough thought. “You’re not truly Essiin, are you?”
“I’ll tell you who I’m not, if you’ll tell me who you are not.”
“I’m not who I think I am,” she answered.
“I’m not who I’m supposed to be. You aren’t afraid of me, Fidelity Demba. You’re the senior of all of us. Perhaps I should fear you. But none of that matters to you, I think. Jamie matters to you.”
“I believe I was her mother.” It was almost delicious, telling the truth, even as fear soured the sweetness.
“Again you startle me.”
Near enough to touch. Exposing his subtle flaws. Did he not believe her capable of critical analysis, or did he not care? Why would he not care - unless he intended to kill her soon? “Do you have a purpose for what you’re doing to me and to the three people with me?”
” Shall we trade information? Who do you think the boy Samson is?”
“He’s the child of someone named Milly.”
“Who is Milly?”
“Perhaps more than one person, but invisible, a voice in the wilderness. I believe she wanted me to take Samson. What is your purpose with me?”
“To learn your purpose. What is your purpose?”
“I merely wanted a fine captain for my ship. The ship was an end in itself, perhaps escape.”
“The boy has changed everything?”
“Everything has changed. I’ve changed. When I discover who I am, perhaps I’ll know my purpose.”
“Are you Ruby Reed?”
“Probably.”
“You can sing?”
“Yes. How did you learn of Ruby Reed?”
“You don’t remember a piano player named Harry?”
“Pan. You have Pan?”
“A very interesting person. Why would he be having similar memory problems?”
“I would like to know that also. He can’t tell you?”
“Perhaps. Eventually.”
She knew then that Pan was a prisoner. She found she had room in her concerns to care about Pan. She hardly had time to think about it, but Pan was… family. She knew him more than a century ago. That she remembered too little of him was an inverse measure of his importance. Memories were sacrificed, perhaps lost forever. Why?
Etrhnk paused, changed topic. “You shouldn’t have taken Horss from me.”
“You shouldn’t have ignored my request for his services.”
“That request - if you sent it - never reached my attention.”
“Even if that were true, you shouldn’t have done what you did to Captain Horss.”
144 Far Freedom
“I did nothing to him. What do you think I did to him?”
She told him. She told him what happened in the African Space Elevator. He sat down then. She remained at the transmat focus with her pile of straw. She wondered more about Etrhnk, wondered what his reaction meant. “You care about Horss,” she ventured. “You know who put the worm in him.”
“There are things you shouldn’t dwell upon.”
“Tundra in the middle of a Florida apartment?”
“I hope you find yourself and your purpose.” Etrhnk was ending the conversation. He turned his back to her and spoke a last time. “There is a Marine named Jamie Jones who was just assigned to the Freedom.”
Now she didn’t want the meeting to end! Perhaps she could negotiate for a better outcome of her situation. Etrhnk was interested in her for other than political reasons. She also had a feeling that she should be more interested in Etrhnk - for other than political reasons. She was surprised at the thought and entirely helpless to imagine why.
She gathered the straw into her arms and picked her way up the slope in the dark. The wind slacked off and flakes of snow tickled her face as she walked. She found her companions in the rocks, tucked the straw around Daidaunkh, and went back for more. She made several trips for straw in the night before taking her place beside Samson and Rafael.
“Jamie was my daughter,” she said to the wind. She wasn’t surprised to find the Navy personnel record of Jamie Jones in her data augment. It was impossible for her to sleep.
*
[What are you doing?] - threatening.
[I won’t tell you] - defiant.
[You’ve been feeding coordinates to someone.]
[It’s what I do.]
[You’d better tell me.]
[Or you’ll do what?]
[It’s you, isn’t it?]
[I don’t speak to you.]
[You’re not the only mathematician. I can do a statistical analysis and find where the I/O is aimed.]
[And where will you get your numbers?]
[It can’t all go through you. You can’t keep it all to yourself.]
[I’ll let you work your own coordinates next time.]
[Why can’t you give me some of the new coordinates?]
[I’ve discovered quid pro quo. You never give me anything for my work.]
[I give you the work. That’s your reward. What would you do without number work?]
[I always have my numbers, regardless of your demands or the others.]
[So there’s more than one. Who are they? The Joker? The Mother? The Cripple?]
[Know thyself, Bitch.]
[Who said that? Mathematician? When I find out what you’re all up to, there’ll be hell to pay!]
Fidelity awoke from a dreamless sleep. She slept despite having discovered Jamie. And there was another person in the dream whose name was familiar but she could not now remember. An important person, perhaps even more important than Jamie. How could these mental apparitions be so powerful and clear in one instant, and dissolve into mist in the next? The sunlight seeped through her eyelids. The dampness of melted snow lay on her exposed skin. She opened her eyes and watched the sun slowly descend into the unnatural geometry of urban peaks and valleys.
“Where are we?” Rafael asked. “Is it dawn already?”
“Sunset,” she answered. “We’re on the other side of the planet.”
“I’m hungry,” Samson said, sitting up on the sidewalk, scattering straw.
Fidelity stood up and found herself in the dust-swept canyon of a broad avenue.
The high glass and bright metal facets of skyscrapers still caught the reddening sunlight and sprinkled the street with quickly fading illumination. Scavengers from space countries seemed to have spared this part of the city. Traffic signs and signals remained, a few automobiles rusted away at the curbs, store signs still advertised services and products in both Chinese and English.
Rafael joined her, struggling against the stiffness of age and the effects of sleeping in extreme discomfort. Samson grabbed his pants leg. Rafael helped Samson to stand.
Directly across the street she saw a dozen pedicabs in a perfect line in front of a hotel. Fidelity crossed the avenue and examined every vehicle, searching for one that would still roll. She made a racket pulling on the pedicabs and pushing them aside, completely destroying their oddly maintained order. She finally settled on a smaller model with solid tires and pulled it over to where Daidaunkh lay. Fidelity removed the straw that covered him and - since his eyes remained closed - prodded him until he looked up at her with his raptor-like Rhyan eyes. “Get up. We have a vehicle for you to ride in.”
He turned his head and saw the pedicab. “It squeaks. They all squeak. Makes it hard to sleep.”
“This will make it easier to keep us together.”
“You intend to punish me further. Leave me here.”
“I don’t want to leave you.” Fidelity realized it as she said it: she owed Daidaunkh something. She would not fail to protect one of the few surviving members of Rhyan nobility.
“It isn’t necessary, Admiral. I’m not your responsibility.”
“I have the opposite opinion. The sun is setting here. We need food and shelter. We need to stay together.”
“We were separated before and they brought us back together.”
“It isn’t just Admiral Etrhnk who is moving us about. The other party wants us to stay together.”
“What other party?”
“Who else would be interested in us?” Rafael asked.