Tacenda

by Christine Jayne Vann

  “We will.” Kerris answered, and hoped she didn’t lie.

  Lily looked like she would burst into tears at any moment, and Kerris felt nervous. She never knew what to do with small children. She knelt down by her side and reached out, but Lily just shook her head and moved away, her lower lip trembling.

  Then Arucken was at their side, she hadn’t even felt him approach. He turned his wide smile onto the upset child, and said quite simply. “Flower girl, this planet has no name yet.”

  Lily’s eyes grew wide. She raced off without a goodbye joining in the company of all the children, chattering away at the centre.

  Arucken watched the children for a moment. He felt distressed but Kerris did not question him. Their heightened link had been fading back to normal levels. She suspected he was as grateful for that as she was.

  It was hard picking up on the parts of themselves they wanted to keep separate. Some privacy was essential for them.

  They said their goodbyes and returned to Octavia, Morgan having approved their payment. Octavia confirmed the credit transfer, and they could settle back and move onto the next mission. The little ship rose, and the planet became just another small orb beneath them. The stars beckoned them onwards.

  Kerris found herself at a loss for a moment, fingers pausing over the keys as she considered. A powerful sense of loss hit her, as the body of Ryla flashed through her memory. She’d known the colonies leader only a short time, but the strength she’d held was something to hold on to and remember. She’d led that colony that first frantic night, gathered them into the halls and kept them safe whilst they called for help. The answer, themselves, had not been what was expected but they had not let it turn to despair.

  The moment the chance arrived they’d returned to pick up the pieces of their lives, only to have that stolen too. But the people they left now were not those bowed to despair, they were survivors.

  They’d left them already making plans for the future.

  Kerris set Octavia to plot the next course, to a supply station for refuelling and a service. Octavia responded with suppressed ill will. After her tricks on Eland she knew to keep a low profile and, when they were stationed, hide herself completely.

  Kerris alerted Talibeth, who agreed to accompany them and the Manchu out of the system. Once they were in a more populated route the Manchu’s new guardian ships could meet them. The Manchu had already received orders to present itself at a Seedport, Xanadu, to be refitted for another colonisation project. There were always more.

  A few scant hours later as they saw the other two ships depart, Arucken was vastly relieved. He hugged Kerris with enthusiastic, cold, arms and she rested her head against his thick chest for a little while. When she raised her head he grinned down at her and she lightly took his hand in hers, raised it up to her cheek and pressed it there for a moment.

  His muddled feelings coalesced into the thoughts they both held together. The thanks, for what they were, and the relief at what they still had the chance to be.

  Then Kerris took herself to her room. She pulled the slender bed down from the wall and rolled herself on it. She thought about Ryla, about Lily, and family. About how her sorrow was tearing her down inside, beating back any chance to remember and love her pilot sister.

  She thought about Jiang’s hand on her shoulder, as he’d asked Kerris if she wanted to talk. Ryla’s eyes as she’d spoken. “We have all seen loss.”

  Kerris closed her eyes and let the tears come, as she allowed herself to view all the memories she’d locked away. The warmth of them filled her heart.

  Aludra, hands outstretched as she played pilot astride the sofa at home. Her twin, sat idly on the table swinging her legs, and pretending to have missed homework to the shock of their parents. Always moving, never still.

  Her sister, hair flying, as they ran towards the college to discover their results from their pilot license exam. They’d taken it at the same time. Aludra had been the one to get extra credit. She’d lived for that moment.

  Aludra, cradling a glass of spirits in the dim light of the bar and growing angry. Her voice steadily rising above the background murmur of other people’s conversations.

  The pair of them, before the purge, running in the meadow beside their small community. Aludra’s arms flung wide as if she longed to raise her feet off the ground. And Kerris had sped beside her, feet flashing by as the cherry tree blossoms rained around them both.

  The memories gathered, playing out in her mind. Kerris wrapped her arms around her, and let herself feel. Good and bad, she would remember her sister.

  Lily: Happy people

  Trin was sad. Lily could tell because he was twisting his silver bracelet around his wrist and not trying to stop her from climbing where the interesting things were. As supplies tumbled down around her he spotted her, and his face had feelings on them again.

  “Lily!” he said, and it was a tone of voice that made her sad. She didn’t like people doing that, but she never knew why they did.

  “I’m sorry?” she said quickly, climbing down. She gave him her biggest ever grin. “Will we have a schoolhouse here?”

  He nodded, although he looked a little...intimidated by the idea. That was an excellent word!

  “Are you intimidated?” she asked. He frowned at her and nodded. She told him that it would be fine, it was exciting here in new home. He looked sad but she told him he needed to cheer up, as there were lots of new people here who did not know how to do things. They would need to show them.

  She decided to show Trin the purple trees, where large blossoms kept falling down. Some people had trampled them and that made her cross, but there were plenty still coming down. It was super beautiful.

  He told her they had to tidy up first, so they did that together. But then it was getting darker and she couldn’t see the blossoms, but she could see the crackle of a fire that someone had started up so she ran to have a look. Trin came dashing after her, and she laughed lots.

  The sparks of the fire flickered and danced and she stood there watching. It wasn’t a big fire, but there were plenty of people around it. She’d have liked to have caught the sparks in her hands but she’d tried that before and it wasn’t a very good idea. She didn’t dance either, though she wanted to. You didn’t dance near dangerous things.

  She liked the stones they’d placed around it, they were flat and oval and a dark red much like her favourite smock. She was wearing a green one at the moment and that wasn’t anywhere near as good. The air smelt of warmth and bubbling.

  Jiang was walking around handing out food to people and he knelt beside her, passing her a defrosted block of something a bit horrible. She was never sure what it was meant to be. He stood by her as she ate it, and praised her when she finished. That was good to hear.

  A lot of people were eating. And talking. Some were laughing and that was a good sound. No-one seemed scared anymore, although plenty of them looked a little shocked. Lily giggled as she watched the firelight paint the people’s faces as they spoke to each other. It made them look a bit like they were melting.

  Then she saw above them, bright new lights coming out in the sky! It was amazing, loads of new stars to get used to and NO-ONE knew their names. It was like being an explorer, and it was brilliant.

  None of the stars moved at that moment, but she looked up at them hopefully anyway. Maybe one would be bug man and the half-bug lady. Sometime soon they would visit.

  She hugged her arms around herself and did not notice when an adult wrapped a large warm blanket around her. She did not tear her gaze away from the stars. She knew that they would come back one day, or that if they did not, she would find a way to visit them.

  Not an ending

  It would take several weeks of hard travel to return to the human complex which held Kerris’ parents. They both grew restless. Leaving the colonists behind had been hard, much harder than normal. Kerris could not shake the small, lively child from her mind.

&nbs
p; It made her consider her own future in a way that was hurtful. She’d never considered it, never wanted to, but for the first time she remembered the clause in their contract, and resented it. She’d signed up her whole life to Arucken’s people, though it hadn’t been much of one when she’d done so. The years they’d built up together full of struggles, to pay off the initial debt and build a reputation.

  There hadn’t been time to think.

  There had been lovers for her of course. The odd liaison, few that continued for more than a few meetups. A few had wanted more, and she’d had to let them down. There was no time for anyone more permanent and no room in her life for anyone more. She’d waved them off, sometimes with relief - or others had left her first.

  The chip inside her prevented any chance of conception. Arucken’s species had asked for her whole life, and they did not want her attention divided. It was the partnership between them they wanted to study.

  Aside from that and the test, there was a lot of freedom. Octavia as well, an unpredictable but welcome bonus.

  She’d thought Arucken was asexual for some time, until he too stumbled across a connection. She was thankful that there were ways to have some privacy on those rare occasions, although it had been embarrassing working out just how. It was like throwing up a shield, fixing that point in her mind and then setting it up to sustain itself. Otherwise if it shattered, your partner could get rather distracted.

  To begin with, their return had been just like normal. She and Arucken had made an uneasy peace. Days passed and she did her best to co-operate.

  Arucken had never, and would never, apologise for that need but Kerris found it hard not to resent him at those times. He just sat there, asking questions. Probing for details of her feelings and thoughts, some of which she’d never been able to express.

  Arucken noticed her preoccupation pretty swiftly. She sat to one side perched on the chair, her eyes closed and a mask over her ears, as he thought simple mathematical problems at her. She was slow at coming up with the answers, her mind sluggish and heavy. It was one of the more basic tests, a benchmark to determine how accurate their sendings were. But she sensed, from Arucken’s surprise, it wasn’t one they matched up well with today.

  “Do you want to talk?” he asked, aloud. It was his way of acknowledging their right to their own minds, by ignoring his more native speech in favour of hers.

  In answer, she showed him the same respect. Sending a picture of a small dancing child, the feelings of bruises against her legs from an exuberant, but playful, small person.

  Ah, the flower girl. He acknowledged, and it was a whole feeling of regret and curiosity mingled together until she could not tell one from the other. She felt again how his mind sheared away from thinking about his own childhood. He was fascinated by species that were more nurturing than his.

  They took a moment, and then Arucken stopped, with an apologetic glance to her he began typing out more notes on his document to one side. It lay open on the screen, the symbols slightly familiar to her as he used the same shorthand she did. She wondered then if he later had to transcribe it to his own language. She’d never even asked.

  Another set done. He said to her. Do you ever wish to see an end to it?

  Are you asking for you, or to record my answer? Kerris responded, before she could stop herself.

  She could tell she had hurt him, his shoulders hunched together a little, it was like he was trying to make his slender form fit in an even smaller space. He turned his face half away from her, so he only caught half of her glance.

  I’ll...finish this in my chamber. He replied.

  Kerris stared at the door he shut behind him. It wasn’t his fault. It had been her decision, and she’d never been that maternal anyway. She’d never consider a child, there was no biological urge for one. Just a dull regret that her options were not open.

  Which was of course, she thought bitterly, a great note to be starting their routine deception at her parents’ refuge!

  She’d lost count of the times she’d argued with those on the panel about what she had to keep from her parents.

  Her parents had been part of the purge when she and Aludra had only just reached adulthood. Those unable to cope with the relaxation of the borders around their home planet had been given a choice. They could have part of their memory wiped, and kept in a safe enclave with no knowledge of what lived outside.

  Or they could serve the Concordat in other ways. They offered implants, to alter the thinking to match what was deemed acceptable.

  Her parents seemed happy, enough, with the choice made for them.

  But they must keep the deception, to keep the people inside content. There were too many layers to her own deception now, as she’d began adding more every time they visited. Soon she’d have to keep notes on her own fake life.

  She thought about asking to see Arucken's notes, and work out just how she was changing. The uncharted ground terrified her, when she thought of it.

  Did she have genetic markers that would be a danger to a child?

  The pang that gave her shot through her whole body, and though her hands had long since healed they ached with a memory of her injuries on Maylith Tara.

  It was days later when she came to grab a drink that she saw him testing himself, no doubt believing her hours asleep. His voice was a little shaky as he did some of it aloud. Sometimes his large eyes would close and he’d make a hissing sound of pain through his teeth. She watched for several minutes, without making a noise to let him know she was there.

  They were the same tests, the same questions and feelings. Her body felt echoes of it in sympathy as she tried to guess which ones he was asking.

  It was a mark of how involved he was, that he couldn’t even sense her presence.

  She crept away, without her drink. She lay back on her bunk, staring at the tight, circular ceiling. She did not think highly of herself then.

  She had never asked. So many of their tests done together, some were even quite fun. Some could be frustrating, when Arucken could do them with ease and as much as she fumbled she could not follow that lead.

  Different species, different skills. It had become a mantra they chanted during the hard bits, sometimes with laughter, sometimes more bitter.

  She’d never stopped to wonder if he might have to do the same. Alone, and with no-one there to lighten the burden as he did for her.

  She’d asked to be told as little as she needed, and he’d respected that.

  Kerris moved towards the kitchen, preparing the next set of meals for them both. She took extra care with Arucken’s, finishing it with some daft embellishments. Perhaps he’d see it for the apology she was unable to voice. She’d need to ask him. She would have asked years ago if she’d ever seen or suspected. She could help him, in her turn.

  Sometimes she had so many ways to speak but still could never find the right words.

  ***

  The start of their visit started exactly the same, although Arucken remembered and copied Aludra's form from her mind much quicker. She wasn’t sure if the guise was easier for him, or whether she’d just gotten better at sending the right impression through to him.

  This time, they met other visitors as they walked through the long, stark corridors. That happened rarely. It was odd to see other life in the sterile, faceless corridors.

  It was a young man, pale and with a pair of twin girls at his heels. He was hurrying them back from a recent visit, and looked exhausted. He darted a glance at them both, smiling briefly at Arucken in his guise before getting his children past them both.

  Kerris tried to shut out the conversation she heard after. “Is that what Grandma meant Daddy? Are those the kind of people?”