Dreamhearth

by M. C. A. Hogarth

  As promised, Vasiht’h helped with the narrative, sometimes of his own volition, sometimes at Helga’s prompting. Jahir could appreciate the deftness of her approach, for she knew just how to elicit information without coercion. She had a light touch, their guest. As a therapist she must have been marvelously comforting. An avid listener, with sympathy in her discerning eyes, always ready with a quip when the mood needed lightening or a gentle prompt when they faltered.

  /It’s still with you,/ Vasiht’h observed as they drew near the close of it. /I had no idea how much./

  /It will always be with me,/ Jahir replied. /Because it has changed me, in every particular./

  /For the better, I hope./

  /I would do nothing differently, arii./

  “Well,” Helga said at last over her second cup of coffee, this one with a dollop of rum. “That was a crucible, and no mistake.”

  “We learned a lot about ourselves,” Vasiht’h said. “As people alone, and as a couple.”

  “No regrets, it sounds like?”

  “None,” Jahir said. “Save that I wish I could have done more.”

  Vasiht’h snorted. “You did enough. Too much more and your heart would have given out. Literally.”

  Jahir smiled a little. “Sooth. Then… I will say I wish I had been capable of more.”

  “Do you blame yourself for that?” Helga asked.

  “No.” Jahir thought about it, then said, “At least, I hope I don’t. We are all works in progress.”

  Vasiht’h chuckled a little, rueful. /Aren’t we./

  “You could earn a lot of credibility, telling everyone this story.” Helga swirled her coffee. “Helping law enforcement shut down a drug ring would validate your modality. Strongly.”

  “And make us look like heroes?” Vasiht’h wrinkled his nose. “No thank you. We’re not miracle-workers, alet. We’re just… us.”

  “You’re just you because you haven’t told everyone you’re heroes,” Helga said. “I would think you’d want to use every tool in your arsenal to make your case before the housing authorities. That’s what you’re fighting for now, isn’t it?”

  “It is not always appropriate to use every tool in one’s arsenal,” Jahir said. “And this one… it feels forced. And we cannot work with people who adulate us. Particularly inappropriately. What we did on Heliocentrus…” He shook his head minutely, trying to still the quiver in his shoulders. “That was not heroism. That was… tragedy. And lost opportunities. And people trying to make the best of a terrible situation. We helped, but we were a small piece of a large story. To lose sight of that would be to disrespect those who suffered more than we did.”

  Helga glanced at Vasiht’h and said, affectionately, “And you’ve yoked yourself to this for your life?”

  “I know,” Vasiht’h said, grinning. “Aren’t I lucky?”

  The Hinichi laughed. “I think you are, actually!” She stood, stretching. “Well, ariisen, that was a lovely dinner, and a very interesting conversation. Thank you for trusting me with it.”

  “We like having you by,” Vasiht’h said.

  “I’ll definitely miss your cooking when I go.”

  “Go!” Vasiht’h said. “You’re leaving?”

  Helga nodded. “In two weeks I’m off on my retirement adventures.” She cuffed Vasiht’h on the shoulder with a chuckle. “And I’m going with Hector. So yes, you can be smug about your success.”

  “I’m not smug! I’m just pleased to see two people I like enjoying one another’s company!” Vasiht’h said.

  /You are smug, though,/ Jahir observed, amused.

  /But saying so seems impolite!/

  “When will you be back?” Jahir asked as they walked her to the door.

  “Oh, I don’t know. We don’t have plans one way or the other,” Helga said. “Part of the pleasures of retirement. No need to be anywhere in particular. But we’ll be gone at least two or three months, I imagine. Hector wants to take a colony food cruise, taste the wonders of the borders. And we both have extended family to visit. We’re looking forward to stretching our ancient legs.” She grinned, ears perked. “But I’ll be by before then, so don’t start missing me yet.”

  “We await your next visit with pleasure,” Jahir assured her.

  “Dinner,” she agreed. “Next week.” And jogged off into the perfumed evening with its glowing lanterns and soft purple sky.

  Jahir leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms, watching her recede. He felt Vasiht’h draw abreast of him. “That was… odd.”

  “That, unless I am mistaken,” Jahir said, “was her decision to recommend us as her replacements.”

  Vasiht’h’s ears sagged. “You really think so?”

  “I do, yes.” Shutting the door, Jahir turned to the plates, and his untouched meal. His stomach was knotted but he was hungry, and he was not surprised when Vasiht’h handed him up the heel of the bread. “Thank you,” he said, chagrined.

  “Sit and chew on that,” Vasiht’h said. “You can’t go to bed with your stomach tensed up. You’ll sleep badly.”

  Obediently Jahir lit on one of the chairs and applied himself to the bread. His partner, thinking busily but not sharing, cleared the table, put away the plates, and started a pot of tea. By the time he brought the cups to the table, Jahir was done with the bread and his friend was ready to speak.

  “Do you think we’re in then?”

  “That will depend entirely on whether the authorities privilege Helga’s assessment of us over Tiber’s.”

  Vasiht’h sank back on his haunches, dismayed. “Oh… that’s… not going to be an easy decision for them.”

  “No,” Jahir said. “We are not in the clear yet. But she is a powerful ally.”

  “And good company,” Vasiht’h said. “I’ll miss her when she’s traveling.”

  “So will I,” Jahir said.

  The following morning Ametia arrived to her appointment… with Lennea. They entered and came to a halt, the taller Harat-Shar behind the shorter Karaka’An, and Ametia rested her hands on her friend’s shoulders and raised her chin high like a feudal lady, proud of her charge. Lennea set one of her hands on Ametia’s and beamed at them. She was wearing jeweled clips on both of her sandals again, Jahir saw. A dragonfly on the right, and a bumblebee on the left.

  “She saved me!” Lennea exclaimed.

  Ametia chuffed a laugh. “Like a knight in shining armor, I swooped down the hill and rescued the princess.” She described a gliding motion with one arm. “And shocked and awed every person who knew me, by quitting my prestigious job as a tenured professor to take up with drooling kittens.”

  Lennea laughed. “They’re not all kittens. And they’re old enough to have stopped drooling!”

  “And technically I didn’t quit,” Ametia agreed. “I am on extended sabbatical. They can’t fire me, so.” She grinned and kissed the top of Lennea’s head before striding to the sofa and curling up on its end.

  “You took the job!” Vasiht’h said, surprised.

  “I did!” Ametia said. “I actually took it the day after our appointment.”

  “She really means it, too,” Lennea agreed, wide-eyed. Settling on the middle of the sofa, she finished, “She showed up and demanded they hire her.”

  “It wasn’t that dramatic,” Ametia said.

  “It was absolutely that dramatic!” Lennea confided to them, eyes shining.

  “Well, maybe it was somewhat dramatic,” Ametia allowed, slouching against the arm of the sofa with a lazy smile. “But it did involve some extended administrivia, like checking my references and considering my qualifications.”

  “Trivialities,” Lennea said, affecting Ametia’s demeanor with a lifted chin and a dismissive flick of her hand.

  /I’ve never seen them together this long,/ Vasiht’h said, stunned. /I never would have guessed they’d be this comfortable! That impersonation…!/

  /She is good at it!/

  /And Ametia thinks it’s funny!/
>
  Jahir watched the two of them, amused. /Why should she not? It was, and meant with fondness./

  “So do you like the job?” Vasiht’h asked.

  Ametia grinned. “They have no idea what they got themselves in for.”

  “She’s loving it,” Lennea said, laughing. “Absolutely loving it. She gets to tell people what to do and they have to do it!”

  “That is a significant benefit. For them, seeing as I know best.”

  Lennea smothered another giggle. “You see what I mean?”

  “We do,” Jahir said gravely. To Ametia, “So you have found your bearings?”

  “I’m getting there.” Ametia smiled, sobering. “It’s not a simple job. I was surprised… I thought I’d be bored within a week. But there’s a lot involved, and a lot of it is frankly fascinating. I had no idea how much went into administration. If I had I might have been nicer to the university board.” She paused, snickered. “All right, probably not. They deserve all their headaches. Insipid old cowards.” Tapping a finger on the couch arm, she continued, “The primary school is a lot more nimble, if you’ll believe it.”

  “It’s smaller,” Lennea said.

  “Not by much,” Ametia said. “It’s that the system isn’t interested in retention the way the university is. Universities… you can attend forever, if you have the money and interest. And the school wouldn’t mind keeping you coming back for yet another degree, if you can afford it. But these primary schools… the kits keep moving, so there’s less fighting over their money. Once they’re here, you only get so much out of them and then they’re gone. The focus has to be on the education, not the student.” Ametia paused. “I’m not sure I’m articulating this well. I’m still wrapping my arms around it. But it’s fascinating. And Lennea is kindly helping me understand the day to day operations.”

  “She’s being nice,” Lennea said, smiling fondly at Ametia. “She’s already got it down. I don’t think we’ve ever had a principal this smart.”

  Ametia snorted. “You were definitely overdue, then. This is important work.”

  /Important work!/ Vasiht’h repeated.

  Jahir smiled at Lennea. “And you, then, alet? Are you content?”

  “Oh, I’m so much better,” Lennea exclaimed. “So, so much. I’m teaching again! My kits missed me. And I get to go to work with one of my best friends!” She touched her cheeks and laughed. “This has been the best two weeks of my year! My face actually hurts from smiling so much.”

  “Would that we all had such problems,” Jahir murmured.

  /Goddess, they’re so adorable it hurts my cheeks./

  /They make an engaging pair./

  /Who would have thought it??/

  /Who would have thought of us, arii?/

  Vasiht’h chuckled. /Good point./ “Well, we have an hour,” he said aloud. “Why don’t you tell us all about how it happened?”

  “Yes!” Lennea said. “But… with cookies?”

  “No tea this time, though,” Ametia said. “Get me coffee. I don’t want to sleep.”

  That was their only appointment of the day, so they let it stretch on past the hour. The interaction between the diffident Karaka’An and her ferocious friend provided an immense source of entertainment and satisfaction; they ate cookies and had coffee and indeed no one slept. Leaving their office for the day, Vasiht’h said, “Goddess, these are the days it’s good to be alive.”

  Jahir looked down at him. “You really believe it?”

  “I do!” Vasiht’h loosened his back, a ripple of muscle and limb that started at his head and moved the length of his spine to his tail. Starting down the walkway, he said, “I do, and I’m ready for lunch to celebrate. Let’s try the place with the fancy noodles.”

  “Fancy noodles it is,” Jahir said, as his data tablet chirped. He had it damped for their session, so it surprised him to receive an alert important enough to bypass the command.

  Vasiht’h stopped. “Arii?”

  Jahir spread the message, skimmed it. Became aware of his heart racing and pressed a hand to it before he could quell himself. The memories of Selnor were close.

  “Not something bad?” Vasiht’h slunk closer, tail low.

  “No,” Jahir said. “Not precisely. But we now have an errand to do before lunch.”

  “Will you tell me what it is?”

  “Yes,” Jahir said. “This way, please. We will need a Pad station.”

  “A Pad station!” Vasiht’h exclaimed. “Where are we going?”

  “To the port.”

  “To do… what?”

  Jahir smiled a little. “You recall I was researching dogs?”

  Vasiht’h’s ears flagged. “Yes.”

  “There is a dog at the port in need of rescue.”

  “But… you don’t want a dog!” Vasiht’h stumbled, halted. /You want it for Tiber./

  Jahir stopped as well to look back at him. “I put out a query, indicated I was interested in one if one were to arrive on Veta. I thought we might give it to Helga as a parting gift, since she had indicated an interest.”

  “But then Allen’s died.”

  Jahir hesitated. “Another reason I left the request public. Yes. It made sense at the time.”

  “But what if he doesn’t want another dog?” Vasiht’h said, joining Jahir to look up at him. “We can’t just give him one to replace Trusty.”

  “We’re not replacing Trusty,” Jahir said. “And we are not giving him a dog. We are rescuing an abandoned animal, and hoping that the person who understands dogs best would be willing to rehome him.”

  “There are a lot of ifs implied in that scenario,” Vasiht’h muttered.

  “But?” Jahir asked, hearing it in the mindline.

  “But it might work. Let’s go look.”

  The moment Vasiht’h saw the dog, his heart crumpled. ‘Abandoned at the port’ sounded so clinical. The reality was heartwrenching, because the animal was only a puppy, all big paws and piteous eyes and sad whimpering sounds. “What happened?” he asked the woman standing guard over the box, a Tam-illee in coveralls marked with the port authority’s badge.

  “We wish we knew,” she answered. “One of my techs found the box shoved into a corner of a maintenance tunnel. We have a visual record of someone leaving it there, but they kept their heads down. Our best guess is that it came off one of the big cruise liners; we had a couple put in this week and they’ve got a ton of crew coming on and off ship. The clothing was consistent with something one of their maintenance personnel would wear.”

  “And you can’t… find them? Somehow?”

  “And do what?” the woman asked, tired. “We could fine them for littering, I guess, but there’s no rule against leaving things lying around. Even if we did, what good would it do? We can’t give the animal back to someone who left it behind. What would their next step be? Spacing it out an airlock?” She shook her head, glanced at Jahir. “I saw your note on the feeds. I hoped maybe you could solve this problem for me.”

  “I may not be able to,” Jahir said. “But I may know someone who can.”

  “Then you’ll take the dog?”

  “We’ll handle it,” Vasiht’h said.

  “Great,” the Tam-illee said, smiling at them both. “I won’t forget it.” And covered Vasiht’h’s palm before leaving them with the puppy.

  “I guess we can take the box?” Vasiht’h said, uncertain. “I don’t know how to hold a dog.”

  “I will carry the box,” Jahir said. “If you call Doctor Tiber.”

  “Because I’m the one who knows him,” Vasiht’h said, feeling the absurdity of it.

  “He is your therapist,” Jahir agreed with just a glimmer of humor, shadowed by the whimpering of the dog.

  “The Goddess works in really, really mysterious ways,” Vasiht’h said.

  Tiber answered Vasiht’h’s message as they were heading from the port to the commons. Spreading it, Vasiht’h said, “We should come by now.”

  “Did you
tell him why?”

  “I said it was an emergency and that I needed his help.”

  Jahir looked down into the box. The dog had stopped crying, and had her long nose over the plastic rim, looking out at the world. “That would be an accurate summation. Was there any reason you did not reveal the nature of the emergency?”

  “I think if I tell him we’re bringing a dog he’ll say no,” Vasiht’h said. “But if he sees the dog....”

  Jahir consider that. “Manipulation?”

  Vasiht’h wrinkled his nose. “No. But he’s got a picture in his head of ‘Tiber with a dog’ and that dog is Trusty. This dog is smaller, and bright gold and it's got very long fur… it doesn’t look anything like Trusty. If we want this dog to have a chance, we can’t have him fixated on that picture.”

  They continued walking. “And if he says no?” Jahir asked at last.

  “Then… we offer it to Helga, like you planned,” Vasiht’h said. “And if she doesn’t want it, then we keep it until we can find it a permanent owner. It shouldn’t be too hard to find someone on the station who wants a dog. There are a lot of people here. Good people.”

  Glancing at the streams of people exiting the port with them, Jahir said, “There really are.”

  Something in the mindline made Vasiht’h look over at him; and he could read that face. It took practice, and a lot of attention, but there, in the tension around Jahir’s eyes and the slight tilt of his brows… “You’re sad?”

  “I am wishing it was not so difficult, to gain permission to stay. Because I like it here, arii.”

  “I know,” Vasiht’h murmured. “So do I.” He sighed. “This way. At least Tiber’s office isn’t far from this side of town.”

  The walk felt like a reprise of their arrival to the starbase. Vasiht’h remembered jogging off the shuttle, scanning the crowds for his much taller friend. That excitement he’d felt, the anticipation of a wonderful future… he’d been so eager for it. Even when Jahir had explained there were challenges better explained over a cup of kerinne and a scone, finding a place here had felt do-able. Like the first of many adventures they’d have together. And in a way… it had been. Maybe they’d have to leave, and Vasiht’h would regret it. But the six months they’d spent here, making friends, helping people, learning how to live together… nothing would take that away. And whatever they did next would be just as special, if in a different way.