Obligations

by Cheryce Clayton

  “I can’t, they’ll send me back to Taiwan,” Morgan said before dropping her eyes again.

  “Unjust,” the boy said, and then return to the picture he was drawing on his notebook.

  “You can come over to my place anytime you want. I live with my mom and her stupid, new boyfriend. He’s real dumb, but he don’t hit or anything.” ShaTilla dropped her arm from Morgan’s shoulders and picked up a colored pen.

  “I live with my brother,” Morgan said.

  “I used to visit my dad a lot, but now he lives with some old home boys and he don’t want me around them,” ShaTilla said. The older girl reached to the center of the table and chose a picture for Morgan to color.

  “He is ashamed of them?” Morgan asked, accepting a blue pen from her new friend.

  “Afraid's more like it. He wouldn’t be hanging there if mom hadn’t told the state on him.” ShaTilla traded pens as she spoke.

  “Told the state?” Morgan retrieved the green pen the other discarded.

  “Child support, you know, it takes all his money. Hey, wanna meet him? My dad? He’s gonna take me to the park after school. You could come.” ShaTilla paused in her coloring and Morgan looked up in time to see her smile.

  “I would be honored,” Morgan said with her own hesitant smile.

  Through the morning, her thoughts turned back to the father being forced to live with bad people because he couldn’t afford anything else, and a determination not to spend another night in her brother’s house. By lunchtime, she was ready to mention her plan to her new friends.

  “Rent costs lots of money,” JC, the boy from across the table, said a third time.

  “I have some money,” Morgan answered again.

  “How much?” JC challenged with a look in his eyes that sent a shiver through Morgan.

  “Nothing right now,” Morgan lied, remembering the flight hostess and her fear of showing money.

  “Oh,” JC said, and Morgan saw his disappointment. “Well, rent costs money, as you’ll have to get some.” That said, the older boy stood, and walked away from their table.

  “I do have enough money, I think,” Morgan whispered to ShaTilla.

  “I don’t know. There are laws and stuff. He probably won’t agree.” ShaTilla picked up her lunch tray and stood waiting for Morgan to join her.

  “I won’t go back there,” Morgan said in a voice drained of emotion before standing and picking up her own, still full, tray. The rest of the day passed slowly.

  #

  “You’re dreaming child.” ShaTilla's father was a tall black man who wore his hat backwards and smelled of greasy food.

  “I have nine hundred dollars a month,” Morgan said, and waited for him to meet her eyes.

  His face was slow in turning, and she was afraid she would see JC’s expression. The look he gave her was so filled with pity and sadness it forced her eyes down.

  “You want to tell me what he did to you?” he asked finally.

  “No. I want to share an apartment with you.” Morgan kept her eyes on ShaTilla, sitting at the next bench over.

  “Okay, let’s go get your stuff.” He offered Morgan his hand.

  “There’s nothing I want from there,” Morgan said and stood without help.

  “Fine by me, never did like a confrontation. You sure he’s not gonna call the cops?” they walked together toward ShaTilla.

  “I’ll call him. He won’t say anything.” Morgan smiled bitterly at her new friend.

  “My name’s Greg kid. Looks like you got yourself a deal.” Greg held out his hand again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five - Sheresuan – 2012

  “Thank you.” Morgan felt the dream fade as she opened her eyes.

  “Shh, sleep child. My wife Iedonea will take care of everything.” Neadesto lay beside Morgan in her own large bed.

  “But, your House? Your neutrality?” Morgan struggled to sit, and settled for leaning on one elbow and facing Neadesto.

  “Your House’s neutrality, my love. I have joined to your banner. And as to my neutrality, your courage would have made it appear as cowardice, and rightly so. No, this is for the best.” Neadesto patted her shoulder before lying flat on the bed.

  “I have no desire to be called Ouosin. Besides, who would follow me?” Morgan stared down at Neadesto’s frail form.

  “You would be surprised. It was not I who fell stricken before the ceremony could be completed. Here, I would have given it to Iedonea, but many times she has refused to allow me to retire.” Neadesto twisted to reach the edge of the bed, and the banner that lay folded on a table beside it. Turning back she showed the banner to Morgan. It was old, though well cared for, and Morgan recognized it from her history studies.

  “I have no right to this, my Lady. A Sansheren should wear such a thing.” Morgan felt tears swell up and wiped at them as she refused to accept the ancient banner. It was thought to be the banner worn by the first Sansheren to unify the first House. The first Sansheren of the Twelfth rank of the Sansadee, the ruling class.

  “It is by every right you should wear this banner. We have always held that anyone could rise to the top, and you, an alien to our culture, have proven that. Take it, now.” Neadesto pressed the banner against Morgan’s chest and the young leader fell backwards until this time she lay flat on the bed, her head unsupported.

  It was Neadesto who placed the call to the resuscitation team, and Morgan watched her put away the communication unit without realizing the implications of the act.

  Morgan continued to stare at Neadesto even when her adopted parent closed her eyes and settled herself on the bed, awaiting death at Morgan’s hand. Life would come with the resuscitation team.

  #

  “My Lady, the beautiful Iedonea wishes a moment of your time. When it is most convenient for you.” An elderly aide bowed low at Morgan’s feet.

  “Tell her I will come immediately.” Morgan turned away from the departing aide and spoke to the medic beside her. “Notify me the moment she awakens.” Morgan straightened the covers about the sleeping Neadesto.

  “I will, your Ladyship. With the exhausting production of four, it will doubtlessly be some time.” The medic kept her head bowed as she spoke.

  “I have been honored,” Morgan whispered before turning to leave the room. The consummation of her marriage to Neadesto was completed, and now Morgan brought her thoughts back to Tadesde with a frown as she walked down the corridor. Her plans to infiltrate Tadesde’s House as a mercenary were destroyed when Iedonea joined her House. The word of such a highly placed defection would spread to the other Houses as fast as ships could get clearance to depart. And with her marriage to Neadesto and the stewardship over House Sheresuan’s neutrality, she was forced to consider calling out a personal challenge which she knew would be suicide; her human reflexes were no match to the average Sansheren, and Tadesde was young and crazy. Which left the ruse of war and forcing a space battle that would allow for a suicide attack of her ship against Tadesde’s.

  “They treat you like a god, you know,” Isaac said as he hurried to keep pace with her.

  “There is no Sansheren word for god. No religion at all. The highest entity is the most loved Sansheren,” Morgan said disjointedly, her thoughts still on Tadesde’s destruction.

  “Close enough,” Isaac said with a self-conscious laugh.

  “I remember a story about a king who went naked in a parade, do you know it?” Morgan came to an abrupt halt as she waited for Isaac’s response.

  “The emperor has no clothes. A pessimistic thought, don’t you think?” Isaac kept walking as he talked, not noticing Morgan’s pause.

  Morgan shrugged in answer to his question and then jogged to catch up. They approached Iedonea’s offices together.

  “I would have been happy to join you in the audience room, my Lady.” Iedonea chided as she stepped out of her office and gestured to the rear entrance of the audience chamber.

  Morgan followed her without speaking.


  “The most revered Sansadee of the Twelfth and highest rank, Morganea.”

  Morgan repressed a jump of surprise when a young apprentice called out to the room. As she moved to Neadesto’s lounge, she clenched her fists together and forced her face still. The room was packed with high level members of Neadesto’s House. All bowing to her.

  “Sit, please, my friends.” Morgan paused as the crowd jostled about and everyone made themselves comfortable. With a frown, she offered her hand to Iedonea who knelt at her feet. Isaac and Nealoie knelt with her. Iedonea shook her head “no” with a smile and then a quick bow.

  “It pleases me greatly to announce the honor our beloved Neadesto has granted this House. Even now she recuperates from the growth of four healthy children.” Morgan did not raise her voice as she spoke, trusting that the acoustics designed into the room would carry her message. It also amplified the collective gasp, and then murmurs of approval, from the gathered delegates.

  “Such an honor has rarely been recorded, my Lady. It also pleases me to announce that the declaration of war by both the House Sheresuan and the House America against Tadesde has been sent to the council of Houses. We await only intelligence reports of Tadesde’s whereabouts to launch our offensive.” Iedonea grinned to the cheering crowd, missing Morgan’s brief look of confusion and panic.

  “We must plan carefully, I will not risk this House in a private battle,” Morgan tried to continue, but shouts of support soon made any speech impossible. Finally, she bowed in respect to her followers, a gesture that raised the cheers to a deafening level, and left.

  “Your banner is unprecedented, though I suspect a few will leave after Tadesde is destroyed,” Iedonea said as she, Isaac, and Nealoie followed Morgan into the corridor.

  “I am a convenience to them, a means to destroy one whose existence has been an insult for too long,” Morgan said in an offhand manner.

  “You underestimate yourself, as usual, my niece. I said a few, only a few.” Iedonea walked beside Morgan. Isaac and Nealoie followed close behind.

  “Tadesde was born within the dead body of Dejymo's favorite wife. She should never have left the nursery. She has barely reached the age of fertility; Dejymo indulged herself by giving this favored child the name of the Twelfth rank. They follow me to destroy one who has become the monster she was born to be. And for no other reason.” Morgan gave Iedonea a silencing look.

  It didn’t work.

  “That Tadesde’s Ouosin, all will agree. But it is you who have decided to destroy her, and it is you whom they follow.” And Iedonea held Morgan’s gaze for a moment before gesturing to Nealoie and taking a different corridor.

  #

  “This is the Sansheren ship Montana out of Bystocc, requesting an emergency orbit. We have a nursery situation in our primary airlock. Repeat, we have a nursery situation in our primary airlock and are requesting an emergency orbit,” Enrico broadcast from where he sat strapped in next to the ship’s captain.

  Several fighter craft, dispatched from the orbiting station, continued to close with them. Still groggy from the shift, he tried his broadcast once more.

  “This is the Sansheren ship Montana out of Bystocc, carrying a human crew and family to Morganea. We have a maternity situation in our primary airlock and request an emergency orbit.” He released the microphone and watched as the fighters narrowed the distance.

  “This is escort craft Delta. Please repeat your…”

  Enrico exchanged puzzled looks with the captain before thumbing his mike. “Say again? My grasp of your beautiful language is deficient and this moment hinders me even further.” Enrico used his most stilted court accent.

  The five small ships moved beside them, but did not seem to mind the captain’s efforts to maneuver into an orbit approaching the space station.

  “Obviously not enough, Montana. I asked by what right you claim kinship to the most beautiful and loved Morganea.”

  The captain continued trimming the ship’s trajectory as Enrico answered. “I am named Enrico, adopted by Morganea on the fallen planet Bystocc,” Enrico enunciated the Sansheren into the mic.

  “They might not have heard it, boy. This is just about the fastest ship around. No brag intended,” the captain finished with a grin as the station’s computer signaled its desire to take control of the vehicle. The captain flipped covers onto several panels and leaned back in his seat, eyes still glued to his instruments.

  “The Registrar confirms your lineage. What is the nature of your nursery situation? Do you require a resuscitation team?” a new voice asked.

  The Delta pilot flared her engines, and soared out of Enrico’s line of sight as their ship slid into the bowels of the station.

  “Negative. The lovely Yolunu suffered a bone injury when Tadesde forces attacked this vessel unprovoked. Her children have been confined to our primary airlock the many days it has taken us to travel to this wonderful sanctuary of yours.” Enrico felt the ship vibrate as it grated to a stop against a station airlock.

  “Your compliments bring a blush to my unworthy face; a nursery team will clear your airlock. Please be ready to exit, I will await you there.”

  Enrico could hear several voices laughing in the background as the other finished speaking.

  “What did you say to him?” The captain asked as they unbuckled and moved to join the rest of the survivors gathered in the hall.

  “I don’t know. I think she interpreted it as flirting.” Enrico grinned before moving to get a position in front of the airlock hatch.

  “Looks like they’re gassing the little buggers.” The captain pressed his face against the small window, trying to see through the dried blood splatters.

  “They’re cycling the hatch. Okay folks, the boy and I’ll go first. I’ll try and get supplies delivered; other than that, just hold your cool.” The captain finished his address and opened the hatch.

  Only the blood stains remained to show Enrico where his friend had been, and the infants had scraped and chewed clean those stains they could reach.

  “I am station administrator Dafersi. It is an honor to meet one who is of our most beloved Morganea’s species.” The Ninth rank Sansadee bowed to the confused humans.

  “I am Enrico; you grant me a false honor, my Lady.” Enrico shifted his cane forward and moved to kneel. The captain, whom he had already instructed on Sansheren etiquette, was bowing his head over one knee.

  “You are as humble as the beautiful Morganea. It is by right, if not by rank, that I grant you the respect that is due.” The administrator dropped to both knees in an attempt to keep her head lower than Enrico’s.

  Enrico paused in his descent and then stood and offered his free hand to the prostrate stationer.

  “I disagree, but we will research my right another time. Stand.” He held his hand out until the other accepted it, and then nodded to the confused captain to stand.

  “I would introduce the captain of the fast Montana,” and he realized he had never heard the man’s name.

  “Frank Griffin, at your service,” the captain filled in when Enrico looked at him.

  “And I would introduce my foster child, the brilliant Amigo.” Enrico turned to the airlock and Amigo poked her head out of the hatch, to be greeted by the gasp of the administrator.

  “She no longer hunts, my Lady. There is no danger,” Enrico rushed to assure the stationer who was backing away.

  “It is my pleasure to meet one so wise and beautiful as yourself. I am humbled by your presence.” Amigo stepped out of the airlock and kneeled on the floor.

  “How old is she?” the frightened stationer stopped moving backwards but made no effort to regain the distance.

  “Past four. She is safe, I assure you.” Enrico placed his hand on top of Amigo’s head as the captain looked from him to the Sansheren.

  “The kid can stay on board with me if there’s a problem,” he offered in English.

  “No problem,” Enrico said as he decided to test jus
t how far being Morgan’s adoptee would get him.

  “I require transportation to the planet. I must address the beautiful Neadesto immediately,” Enrico demanded with far more confidence than he felt.

  “I will see to the arrangements myself, most handsome of patrons.” With deep bow, the stationer fled the room.

  Enrico could see others gathered at the entrance to the chamber, but no one entered for quite some time.

  It was the Delta pilot who finally shouldered her way into the large room. “The station administrator Dafsersi has conveyed your reassurances as to the safety of the child. Come, my ship is the fastest.” The pilot showed no fear of Amigo.

  “There are survivors on board. We have not had food for several days,” Enrico waved toward the airlock even as several of the station crew edged into the room.

  Their eyes on Amigo, they appeared too frightened to continue.

  “Then we should be going. Those old grandmothers will not come any closer until we space.” The pilot bared her teeth in the direction of the stationers and was rewarded by their cringes.

  “Go on boy, I’ve dealt with station crews before. They think all us pilot types are insane. Who knows, they might be right.” The captain waved Enrico toward the departing Delta pilot with his own tight-lipped grin.

  #

  “They have doubled their size in less than a day,” Isaac said in Sansheren. “Tell me, do you know why large litters are so uncommon?” Isaac perched on the edge of his lounge watching Neadesto’s children eat.

  Morgan sat across from him eating fruit, and shrugged before responding. “I never asked. A Sansheren will have a maximum of six children in her life. Perhaps it has to do with my lovely wife’s age,” Morgan answered casually, and he thought she was more interested in her food than the conversation.