But she had also lived in a box a time or two herself as a child in Ashkele. And for some reason, the situation also brought to mind Mariaa Estovaal, and how she had helped Sarah and her compatriots blackmail the old woman, back in Nuvo Bolivar.
This was a test, she knew, and not just one posed by Signysdaater. In a small way, she could make things right with the Goddess. If she wanted to.
Maya made her decision. “You just got really lucky,” she told her. “We’re taking you to the Sisters of Selene. They’ll give you a dry place to stay, and maybe some help.”
Then she removed her restraints. “Go get your things out of your house,” she told her. “You’re moving out.”
She looked to Signysdaater next. “We’ll take her to the Mission.”
The veteran policewoman didn’t reward her with a smile or any other indication of approval, but Maya knew that she had just gone up a notch in her estimation. And oddly enough, it all felt pretty good. Not that she had any intention of becoming a full time ‘miss-goody goody’, but it was still a nice change of pace.
***
At the beginning of their patrol the following day, Signysdaater announced that she had a court appearance late in the afternoon. Instead of opting to ride with a relief officer for the remainder of the shift, Maya chose to go home early, and the very instant that they had returned to the precinct house, she didn’t even bother to change out of her uniform. Instead, she made straight for her hoverbike and sped off to Felecia’s. After weeks of being put off by the girl, she wanted the chance to spend at least a few minutes with her. Or more—if she could get it.
When she arrived, she learned from Sharra, the Senatrix’s Security Chief, that Felecia was away on business for Senatrix d’Salla, but that she would be back shortly. Swearing her to silence, Maya made for Felecia’s bedroom, grinning in anticipation at the surprise her presence would cause.
The surprise however, was Maya’s. As befitted a high-born girl, Felecia’s bedroom was fronted by a small reception area, and in its center was an elegant table, which was normally set with a spray of flowers. Today though, the flowers had been replaced by a small ebony cube with a brass plaque. As Maya approached it, she realized that it was familiar.
She read the plaque. It said, “To my little dancer, with love. Angelique.”
Hands trembling, Maya pressed the small activator stud, and as the light weave began to appear, she gasped. It was La Dansuar, from the art show. The very one that Angelique had purchased for a small fortune.
Now, here it was. A gift to Felecia. With love.
Unable to stand, Maya collapsed into a chair, and sat there, watching the little holographic figure as she danced, utterly stunned.
A few minutes later, Felecia entered and gave out a small cry. Maya looked up at her, her eyes dark with desolation and hurt.
“Why, Feli?” she sobbed. “And with—her--?”
“It’s not what you think---” Felecia started to say, but Maya would have none of it. She rose, and pushed past her.
Felecia grabbed for her arm, and she shrugged her off. “Maya! Wait! Please!”
Maya spun on her heels and pointed an accusing finger at her. “You’re the only one, Maya!” she said mockingly “I love you, Maya!”
At the heights of their greatest passion, Felecia had said all this to her, and much, much more. Now Maya knew how false these words had actually been. “Liar!”
Felecia burst into tears. “Please—you don’t understand—“
Maya shook her head, and walked away. Felecia called after her, but she shut her ears to the sound. With eyes filled to the brim with tears of her own, she re-boarded Rebá and left.
She did not look back.
***
Skylaar came as soon as Maya placed the call to her. She found her in her apartment. The lights were out and Maya sat on the edge of her bed, head hanging, and her hair covering her face like a protective shroud. She was sobbing, quietly.
The Nemesian knelt next to her, and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. Maya responded to her touch, looking up at her teacher with red, swollen eyes. “Cho-Sena---all this t-time--she’s—she’s--been seeing someone else,” the girl sobbed. “I-I left her.”
“Who was she seeing?” Skylaar asked.
This only evoked a fresh round of crying, and Skylaar offered her a kerchief.
“Angelique,” Maya finally managed to say. “Angelique. All this time---goddess, how could she do this to me?“
“Love isn’t always the constant thing that we like to think it is,” Skylaar offered. “Nor are lovers.”
She felt badly for Maya and hated what she was going through, but secretly, she blessed Felecia for her stupidity. The relationship had become more dangerous for Maya than the girl could have ever realized.
Now that it was over, she had one less thing to worry over. Keeping Maya safe had been hard enough without such an unstable variable in the equation. The only question that remained was whether or not other factors in the situation would become just as problematic. Maya certainly deserved a certain measure of peace and happiness.
For as long as it lasted.
TMPD Special Training Facility, Eileithyia Val, Thermadon, Myrene System, Thalestris Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1049.01|13|07:08:34
Kaly and her veteran SRU students had been pushing themselves hard. All of her pupils had been handpicked, veteran officers with years of experience in Special Operations, and together, they had refined what they already knew and incorporated the new tactics that Kaly had brought with her from the ETR.
The course itself had been conducted at a special facility that the Thermadonian Metropolitan Police Department maintained in Eileithyia, a suburb 80 kilometers outside of the capitol. In addition to conventional classrooms and target ranges, the complex also boasted full scale mock-ups of typical Thermadonian neighborhoods, and they had used these to their fullest advantage, going non-stop for two weeks solid.
Now, the special training was over and the teams had all returned to their normal duties, leaving Kaly with a lull in her schedule. The next set of officers weren’t due to begin their instruction for another two days, and she suddenly had a weekend on her hands that she really didn’t want at all. Going full-bore had not only gotten the job done, it had also distracted her and kept her ghosts at bay.
For that very reason, spending her off-time, cooped up all alone in her quarters wasn’t even an option. So, on the advice of the other trainers, she booked herself a room in a downtown hotel, called a hovertaxi, and went into Thermadon proper to play the tourist, and with nothing else to wear, went there in full uniform.
She had seen plenty of holos and realies about the place, but she had never actually visited it before, and her time at the suburban training facility really didn’t count. Nor did the glimpses that she had seen of it from space when her shuttle had come downside.
Intellectually, she had always been aware that Thermadon was the largest and most cosmopolitan city in the Sisterhood, but by the time her ‘taxi deposited her at the Concordance Magnorail station, she had discovered that this simple understanding fell far short of the reality. Thermadon wasn’t just large. It was truly gargantuan, and more than a little overwhelming.
It didn’t help that her visit also coincided with the height of the holiday season. It was Summertyne, or Harvest Home, one of the most important holidays in the Sisterhood calendar. On Old Gaia, it had once been celebrated as the harvest festival of Lammas, and that tradition had survived and transformed itself when the human race had migrated into space.
For the Selenites, and Demetrians like herself, Harvest Home not only celebrated the Goddess’s gifts to her children, but was a time when women emulated the Lady’s generosity by giving presents to one another. Everyone and their mother was out doing last minute shopping for the Summertyne feasts, or buying something for a loved one, and Concordance Station was packed to capacity with travelers.
To mark the occasion
, colorful displays had been set up at strategic locations. Yellow and black Zonnaanblüm flowers, the definitive symbol for the holiday, were everywhere, as were garlands and colorful displays of cornucopia filled with fruit. Even the waste receptacles were decorated, and individual kiosks had joined in in the holiday spirit, decking themselves out in festive colors. And in addition to whatever they normally sold, many of them were also offering Harvest Moon cakes. Like the Zonnaanblüm flowers, this food was one of the essentials of the holiday and their sweet smell reached every part of the terminal.
Also, to entertain the throng, actresses portraying holiday figures wandered from place to place. A woman, dressed as the Mother herself, made her way towards Kaly, wearing a deep green dress and a garland of flowers on her head. She was giving out candy from the basket on her arm to every little girl that she passed.
Over the woman’s shoulder, Kaly spotted a circle of Harvest Maids portraying the Goddess as the fruitful young Maiden. The dancers were attired in distinctive red dresses, and swirling around a holographic bonfire. Just like the playful Maiden herself, every so often, one of them would reach out and pull someone in from the crowd to join them.
The sight made Kaly smile, but she also made certain to carefully avoid coming too close to them as she wove her way towards the magnorail platforms. She had almost reached her goal, when she encountered the last member of the sacred holiday trio.
This was Grandmother Death, dressed in a billowing white gown and a cape that dragged along the floor. She was carrying her distinctive hooked staff, and a terrifying mask concealed her features. Over her back, was the sack that she used to carry off all the bad little girls to her underground home. Grandmother Death was a somber reminder to the onlookers that famine could always replace plenty, and that death itself, was inevitable.
Whoever was portraying her was doing a particularly good job, Kaly observed. The ominous figure appeared to float, rather than walk, and she always seemed to be just on the brink of catching the laughing, squealing children that she encountered.
All this brought Kaly back to her own childhood, when the adult members of her colony had also dressed up in costumes, and put on their own version of the Summertyne revel. Being a backwater planet, it hadn’t been quite as fine as this production was, nor as well performed, but its meaning had been just as deep, if not more so, for the sincerity of its presentation.
But they were all gone now. Thanks to the Hriss, and a hard, cold universe that took lives just as surely as Grandmother Death stole away bad children. Soured by this, Kaly pushed her way through the press, determined to reach her train and leave. Right then, all she wanted was to get to her hotel and check in.
According to her psiever, which had tied itself into the Transitplex, the train she wanted was the “E1101” train, on platform Carla-7 and she had only a few minutes before it departed. The mass of the people around her made her progress slow and she pushed through them as politely as possible. Once the E1101 left, there wouldn’t be another train going to the Marpesia District for 20 minutes, and the last thing that she wanted was to find herself stuck there in the station, waiting in the middle of the holiday chaos.
She reached the car doors just as another woman was exiting the train, and Kaly did a double take, realizing who it was. “Ellen?” she called, making eye contact. “Ellen is that you?”
Ellen n’Elemay looked back at her. She didn’t smile though, or make her way through the crowd to embrace her. Instead, she turned away and after dropping something bulky into a waste receptacle, disappeared into the crowd.
“Ellen!” Kaly called. “Wait!” Forgetting all about her train now, she tried to follow, but quickly lost sight of her. Caught between the choice of continuing her pursuit, and missing the E1101, she stopped, and turned around.
Maybe that wasn’t her, she thought. Or maybe it was, and she just didn’t recognize me. This was certainly possible. The visor of her peaked cap tended to hide the wearer’s eyes, and while the privacy that this afforded was a plus at times, it also tended to render the wearer anonymous.
Then another possibility surfaced. And maybe she was just too embarrassed to talk to me.
After what had happened to her career, the sight of any military uniform must have had painful associations for her, she reflected. Saddened and sobered by this, Kaly walked back to her train. Miraculously, it was still there, and predictably, the car she chose was full. All of the seats had been taken.
Grabbing onto the overhead rail reserved for standing passengers, Kaly resigned herself to a long ride on tired feet. But one of the seated travelers was an old woman, maybe 200 standard or older, and when she took in Kaly’s uniform, she took pity on her.
“Here “she said, rising with some difficulty, “take my seat, officer.” When Kaly hesitated, she added, “Please.”
Kaly was sorely tempted to refuse, but then she saw the expressions of the other riders around her. They actually expected her to accept the offer, she realized. Courtesy to women in uniform had recently become a popular local custom and this was especially true for any members of the new State Security Service. At that moment in history, the RSE was seen as the front line in the war against the Marionite terrorists, and all the other enemies of the Sisterhood. In the eyes of her fellow passengers, she was a heroine and deserved the honor.
“Thank you, ma’am”, she finally said, removing her cap not only out of deference to the woman’s great age, but also for the cool relief that it offered. The caps were hot, and sweat tended to gather up in the hatband.
“Can I at least hold your packages for you?” The old woman had several heavy-looking parcels, and she wasn’t about to make her stand with them.
“Thank you, young lady,” the woman said. “Goddess bless you.”
At that, the train began to pull out of the station and Kaly took her seat, placing the packages at her feet, and in her lap.
“My granddaughters are both in the service you know,” the old woman told her. “I’m very proud of them.”
Kaly smiled and was about to utter a polite reply, when there was a deafening explosion…
***
Signysdaater listened quietly as Maya told her all about her break-up. She also spared her the embarrassment of an “I-told-you-zo” speech.
And for once, Maya was actually grateful for the woman’s taciturn nature. Her heart still felt like an open wound, and it had been a small miracle that she had even been able to report for duty at all. Being dressed down, or having to talk at length about her loss would have been completely unbearable. Just then, all she wanted was to finish their patrol with enough distractions to keep her mind from revisiting all of the hurt.
Her wish was granted only a few minutes later when an urgent call flashed on the cruiser’s HUD;
HOT SHOT: BOMBING/ TERRORIST INCIDENT:
Active Bombing, Multiple Casualties, Unknown Suspects.
Name (s): Suspect #1 Unknown (To Be Determined). Height: 165.1 CM, Weight: 81.646 KG Hair: Light Blond, Eyes: Grey, Motherworld: Unknown (To Be Determined). DOB: Unknown (To Be Determined). Known Alias: Unknown (To Be Determined).
Hazard Level: HIGH. Possible terrorist activity with secondary incidents probable. City-wide alert now in effect.
All available units, Agamede, Kleta and Cyrene Districts, respond to Concordance Station. Callers report multiple explosions/multiple casualties on platform Carla-7. Fire and rescue units currently on scene with additional units en-route. Responding officers use TAC-2.
Maya sat bolt-upright as Signysdaater sent a reply. As a Pat-Rat unit, she knew without having to ask that they were expected to take the call.
When they switched over to the Tactical Channel, the chatter painted an immediate and ugly picture.
“Responding units, approach from the west and establish contact with Fire Rescue and Bomb Teams. Do not enter the station until EOD has cleared the location. Report in to Captain n’Veronika.”
Signysdaater had a
lready started the cruiser’s engines. “Zis is going to be bad,” she warned. “Very bad. You ready, Maya?”
“Yeah,” Maya answered. She hadn’t missed the fact that the veteran kaaper had just used her name, and not ‘rookie’. On any other day, this would have been considered a victory. Today, it just lent a tiny bit of badly needed comfort.
Signysdaater switched on the ‘car’s lights and the emergency transponder. With an audible siren adding to the urgency of their ascent, she hit the throttle, and they rose up and away from the park, and into the police flightlanes.
It wasn’t long before they saw the station and the true extent of the disaster. Although the building itself was intact, black smoke was pouring out from the magnorail tracks on the east side, and the airspace above the station was filled with police and rescue units.
“Fekking shess!” Signysdaater snarled, smacking the dash with her hand. Maya couldn’t think of anything more fitting than these simple words to describe the spectacle. Nothing like this had happened on any Sisterhood world since the notorious Fiveday Evening attack by the Bio-Action Army more than a century earlier.
Another message, this time directed specifically to them, came up on the windshield. “PR 13-XE-80, proceed to west side gate area and assist Fire/Rescue with rescue operations. Acknowledge.”
Signysdaater sent an affirmative, and took the cruiser into a diving turn, just missing a white SNN hovervan that had dropped down to catch some footage of the event.
“Kekk! Just vat ve fekking needed,” she growled. “—za fekking news.” In her colorful lexicon, ‘news’ was simply another expletive.
An instant later, an official warning went out to the news van from the Command Post. They weren’t any happier about their presence than Signysdaater was.
“Unauthorized hovervan. You are violating a Police Emergency Zone. Withdraw immediately or be deactivated! You have five seconds to comply.”
Sisterhood of Suns: Daughters of Eve Page 46