“No regrets then?” Jeena asked.
She wondered again if he really was a psi, and reading her thoughts, but he didn’t enlighten her. “No,” she answered. “You?”
He shook his head. “Aren’t you worried about what Sarah will say if she learns about this?” he asked.
“Sarah can go and get herself fekked,” Maya responded.
“That’s something I think I’ll leave to someone else,” Jeena returned and they both laughed.
Maya became serious again. “What about you? Aren’t you worried about her?”
Jeena reached out and stroked her face. “Sarah doesn’t concern me in the least.”
Given Sarah’s training and experience, Maya thought this was a rather foolish statement, but she didn’t say so. Jeena was acting as if he was more than a match for her, if it came to it. And, she thought, maybe he was. There was definitely something about the neoman that he hadn’t shared with her.
He gave her another one of his dry, amused smiles. “Let’s not talk about her,” he said. “I have something else that we should concentrate on.”
He took her free hand and guided it downwards. She quickly discovered what he had been referring to, and promptly lost all interest in Sarah, or anything else for that matter.
Blyavaald Famaalenplaatz, Vaalkenstaad Township, Zommerlaand, Sunna 3, Solara Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1049.02|24|02:53:91
The smell of cooking—real cooking—coming from the kitchen was the first indication to Kaly that her plans for the day were about to change drastically. The lack of beer bottles on the living area table was another, and the third was that Enggredsdaater was singing to herself. The drapes had also been thrown open, flooding the house with sunlight.
Curious, and hopeful, she wandered into the kitchen. “Heyas, Berta. Is that breakfast?” The counter was piled high with fried chikka eggs, thick slices of bacon, and even toast.
“Yah,” Enggredsdaater told her. “Grab youzelf a plate.”
As Kaly did so, Enggredsdaater told her what she had in mind. “I vas zinking of goin to vun of za local Zings. You maybe vant to come along? Zere fun, n’you don’t have to do anyzing—just hang around.”
“Things?” Kaly asked between mouthfuls. Berta had proven herself to be a half-way decent cook.
“Yah,” Enggredsdaater replied. “Zort of a local tradition—folk ztuff, zat kind of zing—and zen a big meal aftervards.”
Kaly considered all of her options. The agribots were up and running and most of the irrigation system was functional, with only the west field still requiring any attention—which from the look of the day outside was going to be hot work. Summer had arrived on Zommerlaand, and she had already learned that it would be twice as warm as it had been on her motherworld during the same season. Stacked up side-by-side against a local folk festival, with a home-cooked meal, the west field with all its sun, bother and sweat, could wait.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “That sounds great, Berta!”
“Gaanz gaaf!” Enggredsdaater beamed. “You’ll like Grammy. Zhe’s good volk—but I gotta varn you about zomezing. Zhe’s zort of a, vell a—Vitkaa, a vise voman.”
Kaly cocked her head querulously. She had heard of Zommerlaandar Wise Women, but nothing that she completely trusted. According to the tales, they were witches, and Kaly wasn’t really certain if she believed in magic or not. Luck, certainly. Any good Marine knew that luck was real—and that good luck was just as important as anything else on the battlefield. It didn’t matter if you had the best training and skills; if your luck left you, you were fekked. Like the women in the assault shuttle on Nuvo Bolivar, she reflected darkly. They had all been veterans and that hadn’t saved them from the missile. Magical spells, however, were another matter.
Enggredsdaater read the doubt in her features. “Zere zort of, vell like a counzelor, and a ‘paint zometimes and zometimes a prieztezz,” she explained. “Vhatever—you come n’zee for yourzelf. Grammy and her friendz are okay.”
Kaly scooped up a final bite with her spork and wiped her mouth. “So, do I dress up for this, or what?”
“Nen,” Enggredsdaater said. “Just come like zat—zese are regular volk. Nozing fanzy.”
Finishing breakfast, they left in Enggredsdaater’s hovertruck. The trip was a short one, and when they finally arrived at Grunvaald, they entered the farmhouse through the kitchen door.
It was abustle with activity. Grammy’s guests were just arriving, and depositing the food they had brought with them. Every spare hand had been pressed into service to find places to store it. Grammy’s ‘Things’, Kaly discovered, were actually huge pot-luck affairs and everyone had come with something to contribute to the big meal.
Suddenly feeling very shy, Kaly quickly found a place for herself in the corner, and stayed there, out of the way, and she hoped, out of mind. Enggredsdaater, out of a sense of sisterly solidarity, sat with her, nodding to those that she knew, and explaining everything to her.
“Grammy hold zese Zings of herz every month,” she told her, “and vomen come from all around. You’ll meet a lot of good people---“
Then, out of deference to Kaly’s introversion, she added, “—if you vant to.”
Kaly just nodded, and watched the comings and goings of all the strangers around her without making any move to leave her seat.
At one point, someone that Kaly did recognize entered the kitchen, and they both did a slight double-take when they saw one another. What had initially thrown Kaly off was that Vice Admiral ben Jeni was in civilian clothing; a simple checkered shirt and jeans. Stripped of her uniform, and her starship, it had taken Kaly a moment to realize exactly who she was. And at the same time, a sudden feeling of guilt washed over her.
But she wasn’t about to apologize to Lilith for leaving the Agency, she resolved. Or offer up any excuses. She had done what was right for her, and she wasn’t accountable to any officer. She was a civilian now. Lilith worked for her.
For her part, Lilith seemed to be no less surprised at their meeting, but she was unruffled by Kaly’s hard expression. She didn’t challenge her or ask any questions. She simply refilled her teacup and left, silently acknowledging Kaly with nothing more than a small, half smile and a polite inclination of her head.
“I didn’t know that she was here,” Kaly said to Enggredsdaater.
“Who?”
“The Admiral—is she coming to the Thing--?”
“Ach, nen!” Enggredsdaater replied, waving off the possibility. “No, za Admiral is here because she’s married to Grammy’s daughter, Ingrit. Zey got Paired a few veeks back. But za Admiral’s a real vreestaande—you know, an outzider. She doesn’t go in for all zis. Doesn’t believe in it.”
“And Ingrit does?”
“Oh, yah,” Enggredsdaater answered. “She’s Grammy’s zenior ztudent, and ven za time comes, she’ll take over vor her.”
Kaly raised an eyebrow, wondering at what kind of marriage that added up to.
Sensing exactly what she was thinking, Enggredsdaater added, “Zey don’t fight over it. Ingrit knows vat she knows, and Lilith—za Admiral—letz her be. Bezides, Grammy thinks zat its good vor Ingrit to have a challenge to her beliefs. She sez zat it makes her zharper.”
Kaly shook her head at this odd arrangement, and went back to watching things from the sideline.
She felt Grammy enter the room even before her eyes caught sight of the woman. Had she been pressed to, she wouldn’t have been able to define exactly what had triggered this, but her experience as a sniper had taught her to honor the intuitions that sometimes preceded an important event. She looked up just as Grammy came through the doorway.
The old woman was dressed in the colorful apron that Enggredsdaater had described to her, covered with strange symbols that screamed of magic and mystery, but even without this, Kaly would have known her for the shaman that her friend said she was.
Her eyes were a bright pale violet that sparkled with a power and an intel
ligence that belied her advanced years. Meeting them, Kaly felt something akin to an electric shock, and she quickly looked away, hunching down in her chair.
Grammy made straight for her like one of the aerhawks that hunted in the fields outside. The old woman said nothing, but Kaly could sense her gaze. Then she felt her hand, gently cupping her chin, and she was forced to look up.
“Lena will always be with you,” Grammy said.
Kaly’s features went wide with shock. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Enggredsdaater, about Lena. There was no way that Grammy could have known about her. Yet, she did.
“I see her,” Grammy told her. “Standing right next to you. She wants you to know that she loves you.”
Kaly’s vision blurred with tears, and a choked sob escaped from her throat. She was ashamed, but equally helpless to stop herself. An instant later, her defenses collapsed completely and everything fell apart.
As she bawled her eyes out into Grammy’s apron, the woman gathered her in, and gently stroked the back of her neck.
“There now, little one,” the old woman whispered soothingly, “It’s all right. It’s all right. Mihn gudinn, such pain! Someone twice your age should not have witnessed so many terrible things!”
One of the other women came up and said something to Grammy, but she firmly shooed her away and stayed with Kaly instead, holding her and making comforting noises. Finally, Kaly raised her head and looked up at Grammy again.
“You know,” Grammy said to her with a gentle smile. “You remind me of a little stray that I took in a few years back. He was starving and lonely. Just skin and bones. Zo, I fed him.” She jerked her head towards an orange tabby who was sunning himself up on a nearby window sill. “Now look at him! He’s as fat as a sausage and twice as spicy!”
The kaatze regarded them with a sassy, self-satisfied expression. He did look like a sausage, Kaly realized—a big furry one. This managed to coax the smile from her that Grammy had been hoping for.
“Now, my little stray, I have to go and do something with these women,” she explained carefully. “You can come along with us if you want to, or you can just stay right here. Whatever you want. Zat gaaf?”
When she saw that Kaly was going to remain right where she was, she smiled again, and handed her a cup of tea. “Here now, drink this, it will help. Rest. It’s okay.”
Kaly sniffled her thanks, and took it from her. Then Grammy reached into her apron and brought out a cookie. “Have a cookie. A little sweetness goes a long ways towards curing life’s bitterness,” she said. Then with a gentle pat on her head, she left her.
Kaly remained in the kitchen until the Thing was done, and everyone had returned to the farmhouse for lunch. True to her word, Grammy didn’t reproach her, or make any mention of her absence. Instead, she was simply invited to share in the meal.
When it was over, she left the farm with an open invitation from Grammy to come back any time that she wanted. It was the perfect way to make a stray like herself, feel comfortable, and safe.
CHAPTER 13
K’aut’sha Fighting School, Sorrow’s Swale, Nemesis, Rahdwa System, Thalestris Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1049.02|25|06:66:78
Maya and Jeena rendezvoused with Skylaar, and the trio arrived at the Fighting School late in the afternoon of their fifth day on the Green Road. Seeing it, Maya was wonderstruck by the ingenuity of the Pak’uns, and the incredible resourcefulness of the native women. Despite her unfortunate introduction to the planet, Nemesis, like Jeena himself, had managed to win her over.
They were met by a group of senior students, and shown to the docking tree that the School’s Pak’uns used. An orientation meeting with the woman in charge of new admissions had already been scheduled, right along with another one with Jezzika taur K’aut’sha, the Headmistress of the Fighting School herself. Although Maya was tired from their long trip, her eagerness to meet the famous swordsmistress and begin her training, reinvigorated her as she climbed up to the platform.
But when the main Pak’un drew close enough for her to make out the features of the women standing at its railings, her enthusiasm, and her smile, died together. Sarah was there.
Their eyes met as the huge floating craft moored itself, and Maya made sure to put all of the distaste that she could muster into the look she gave her.
Sarah seemed completely unaffected by this however, and stepped forwards to greet them. “Good,” she said crisply. “The three of you are finally here.”
Maya decided that the time had come for her to exact her revenge. Making certain that Sarah was still looking her way, she reached over, took Jeena’s hand, and faced her squarely.
Sarah gasped at the sight, and stumbled backwards, a horrified expression on her face.
Maya’s lips twisted into a cold smile of triumph. “That’s right, Sarah. I fekked him. Him. And I liked it!”
Her words hit the woman like physical blows. Sarah moaned and fell to her knees, and Skylaar went to her, trying to lift her back to her feet. But she batted her hand away with a loud cry, and began to weep miserably. Undeterred, the Nemesian tried again, and this time, Sarah allowed herself to be raised up, and led away.
They were almost out of earshot before she collapsed again and Skylaar crouched down at her side and spoke quietly to her. Only a part of their conversation managed to reach Maya’s ears over the wind, but what she heard filled her with grim satisfaction.
“She’s ruined herself,” she heard Sarah wail. “Ruined!”
Maya wanted to laugh out loud. She’d gotten her right where she lived.
“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Jeena remarked.
“She deserved it,” Maya hissed. “For what she did to me, she deserved it. Every little fekking nanobit.”
By this point, Skylaar had persuaded Sarah to stand again, and patiently guided her around the corner of the Pak’un and out of view. When she returned alone a few minutes later, she addressed Maya. Her expression was stern.
“You have done Sarah a grave disservice,” she told her.
“She’s a traitor,” Maya growled. “I can’t do anything to her that she doesn’t deserve. Fek her!”
“No,” Skylaar corrected. “She is not a traitor. If anything, she is more of a patriot than either you or I could ever aspire to be, and she has sacrificed far more than you can imagine.”
Maya’s expression remained defiant, but she didn’t rebut her. Although she disagreed with Skylaar’s assertion, she respected her too much to argue.
“Do you think it’s time to awaken her?” Jeena interjected. He was speaking to Skylaar.
The Nemesian considered this for a moment, and then answered. “Yes, I suppose it is. Angelique may not have guessed her true allegiance yet, but she soon will. Lady Ananzi wanted it to go on for a bit longer, but I think that she would agree that we no longer need to keep up with our little charade.”
“What charade?” Maya asked, now completely mystified. Skylaar only shrugged, and Jeena kept his reply short, and just as enigmatic.
“You’ll know soon enough,” he told her. Then to Skylaar, “Shall we?”
Without any further explanation, they left her there.
***
Jeena knelt down by Sarah’s side. They were inside of one of the Pak’un’s many living areas, and the woman was lying on a sleeping mat, wrapped in a blanket. She was still weeping.
“Sarah,” the neoman began. “It is time for you to wake up. For the last time, just as Lady Ananzi promised.”
Sarah turned over abruptly, her eyes alight with fury. “What are you talking about? Get out of here you piece of Neo filth! You’re the cause of all this!”
“No,” he replied gently. “I will not leave, and I need you to listen to something. It goes like this, ‘I have slept in the arms of twilight…’”
“What is this nonsense?” Sarah demanded. She started to rise, but Skylaar held her down as Jeena continued to recite the Nyxian poem.
As they had fully expected, halfway through it, Sarah ceased her struggles, and laid back on the mat, becoming utterly still.
Finally, Jeena completed the poem and Sarah blinked. Suddenly, all of the anger that had been directed at him disappeared completely. A radiant smile came over her face, and she sat up and embraced them both.
“Oh my friends!” she exclaimed. “Thank you! Can you ever forgive me for the way I must have acted?”
“Of course, sister,” Jeena answered softly. “It is our job as your friends to forgive you. Now, we need your help. We have much to tell you, and important work to do.”
“Anything!” Sarah exclaimed.
***
Nemesis proved to be a unique experience for Jon on several levels. He had heard of the jungle planet of course, and had even experienced a realie or two, but he had never been there in person before. The sheer ‘greenness’ of the world was almost overwhelming to his senses, and the vast expanses of unbroken and carefully preserved wilderness astounded him. Especially after his recent confinement in Thermadon.
These were not the only surprises that the Mother Forest had in store for him however. The reaction of the Nemesian women to his presence was just as astonishing.
When the JUDI landed in a small clearing, and they had been met by a hoverlifter piloted by two of the natives, Jon had expected the same hostile expressions that he received everywhere else in the Sisterhood. And the same abuse.
This was not what happened however. The Nemesian women had just looked at him from head to toe, sniffed the air briefly, and then gone about their business as if a neoman was merely another part of their landscape. There were no unfriendly looks, no insults, and no emotions coming from them that indicated that they felt any prejudice against his kind whatsoever. At the very worst, they just considered him to be another hwa’ni’tem, an outsider, just like his companions.
Sisterhood of Suns: Daughters of Eve Page 59