“Dr. Serkin, tell us if we are missing something. Wasn’t the Project instituted — and repeatedly funded — in order to reduce the likelihood of interspecies violence? Hasn’t that hope proved disastrously misplaced? Haven’t your ‘missions’ of interference produced exactly what they were supposed to avoid?”
Dr. Serkin tried to appear calm and unintimidated. “First, we have had one setback. Tragic as it is, there is no ground for over-interpreting it into an indication of overall failure. There have been several notable successes, instances where mediation teams have resolved disputes which could otherwise have escalated —”
The Council's sub-chair for Tofa Relations looked at him with some sympathy. “Doctor, when was the last time you achieved such a result?”
Dr. Serkin scrolled through his tablet, more to buy time than to find the answer he already knew. The last three teams sent out before Judy and La-ren’s trip to Anson Center had reported little progress. There had been plans to send the teams back for further attempts, but now. . . .
Time to change the subject. “There is another indication that things may not be entirely as they seem. We have, of course, been in communication with Tofa authorities. Communications assisted, by the way, by our Tofa twin subjects. We would have expected the Tofa to be even more upset than this body about the murder of an innocent Tofa youth. But we have not met with anger or denunciations.” Although even the Tofa Twin-Bred were somewhat at a loss about how the Tofa were taking the news. There was something cryptic about the Tofa response. Dr. Serkin wished that Dr. Cadell would come out of her room and help figure things out.
Mara could feel Levi waiting. She would not let him speak. She was curled up on her bed, in a position too tightly clenched to be called fetal. She would think only of the tightness of her muscles, the feel of the bedspread on her cheek, the rhythm of her breaths, the hum of the environmental unit, anything that that was sensory and immediate, nothing that could dislodge her and send her down a vortex of despair.
A new sensory input. A knock, repeated. Then a sound. Mara shuddered. The sound meant something. It was her name.
“Dr. Cadell! Mara! Please answer. It’s Carla. Even if you don’t need to talk — and I think you do — please, just say something.”
Levi took advantage of the break in her concentration. “Mara. I know what you’re thinking. Of course I do. And you know it isn’t true.”
“Do I? It feels true. There are more things in heaven and earth — to say nothing of this damned planet. . . . It could be true.”
“Mara, you are not a jinx! Your touch is not fatal! And neither is your love.”
“I can never take the chance again. I can never touch you.”
“Mara mia — sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. We have enough to grieve over, without forecasting future griefs. . . . This time I won’t tell you not to cry. One of us must.”
She did, for a long time.
“Levi! What about Judy? Where is she? Is anyone with her?”
“I don’t know. Which isn’t good enough. We have to find out, now.”
“She won’t want to see me. I’m the last person she’ll want to see.”
“If she’s with friends, or under observation, we can vanish. On your feet, Mara! And bring your master key.”
She was already reaching for it.
Mara pushed past a startled Carla Horn, still standing in the hallway, and ran. She burst through the infirmary doorway. “Is Judy still here?”
“No, we released her this morning.”
Mara turned and ran on, ignoring the stares of Twin-Bred and staff. She rounded the corner. There, Judy and La-ren’s room, now Judy’s alone. Mara skidded to a halt, tried to stop panting, and put her ear to the door. There were no voices; she heard no movements. She knocked once, waited, knocked again.
No answer. She pounded on the door. Finally, she called. “Judy! Please! I won’t take a moment — please answer!”
Nothing. She fumbled for the master key, unlocked the door and shoved it open. Judy was on the longer bed — La-ren’s bed. She lay still, sprawled, her left arm hanging loose, a row of patches on it. Mara ran inside and pressed the emergency call button on the wall. Then she ran to the door and screamed.
Mara looked around her quarters. They seemed somehow unfamiliar, as if she had been away for years. She stumbled to the bed and collapsed on it, shoes dangling off the edge.
“She’s all right, then.”
“Yes. At least, she’s alive, and medically recovered. They got to her in time.”
“What now?”
“If Laura’s father were still alive — but there’s no use wishing. Judy and Laura are staying with Veda and Melly. Having Melly around will be a helpful distraction. We hope. Jimmy and Peer-tek have a room in the main compound now, so she won’t be constantly around a — a complete pair of twins. And she’ll have some time away from places where all her memories have La-ren in them. As if that will make a difference. Levi — what if I did this? What if she looked at me and saw — saw how twisted she could become, how crippled and desperate —”
“That is quite enough of that, Mara. You’re going to call Dr. Tanner as soon as I finish lecturing you. When Judy looked at you, she saw someone who has suffered, yes, but she saw someone who has survived! And turned that suffering into world-changing achievement.”
“World-changing. I think we’ve seen just how much I changed the world.”
Chapter 40
The crowd gathered in a grove of trees near the river behind the compound. The never-born twins, lost so many years before, had been studied, then cremated. This was the first time they would bury their dead.
The long narrow coffin rested beside the long narrow hole. Mara, Laura, and Judy stood closest to it. Judy stepped forward.
She stood in silence for a moment, looking slowly around the crowd of humans and Tofa.
“I don’t understand.
“I don’t understand why we’re here. I don’t understand why we’ve lost my brother, our La-ren. I don’t understand death. And I don’t understand hate and murder.
“I don’t understand killing someone who came to help you. I don’t understand a crowd of grown men killing a boy.
“I don’t understand why this happened now, and not the first time or the other times we tried to help.
“I don’t understand. But I still hope.
“I still hope that we can help humans and Tofa understand each other.
“I don’t see why La-ren had to die for it. But I still hope we can do what we were born for. I’m still willing to try.
“And I’m still willing to live. Thank you, Dr. Cadell, for giving me a second chance to make that choice.
“I know — I know very well — that I will never be the same without La-ren.” Many of the human Twin-Bred and staff were crying now. The Tofa rocked back and forth. “But I know that you will all be with me. That you will help me when you can. I know that I am not alone.
“I know that you will all miss La-ren. That you loved him. That we still love him.
“My sweet brother. Our brave spirit. Goodbye.”
She stood a moment longer, then walked back to Mara and Laura and took their hands. They stood together as the hole was filled with sweet-smelling clay.
Judy, Laura and Mara walked back with Veda and Melly. Judy stopped outside the cottage. “You three can go on in. I just need to talk with Dr. Cadell about something. I’ll see you soon.”
Melly opened her arms for a hug. Judy knelt down and squeezed her tight, kissed her forehead, and then gave her a gentle shove toward the cottage. Laura hesitated for a moment, gave Judy another hug, broke away and stumbled inside.
Judy turned to Mara. “Let’s walk some more. Along that river.”
No one had lingered near the grave site. They followed the nearest river on into the sparse purple woods. Judy stopped and put her hand on a tree.
“This was the La-ren tree. Is. I always told h
im it looks like him. Its branches remind me of how he used to hold his arms. And it’s taller than the others.”
She kissed the nearest branch, then turned to Mara.
“Dr. Cadell, there’s something you should let me do. I want you to let me tell the others — or at least some of them. About your brother. About what La-ren did for you.”
“Judy, why? Are you thinking that I — that it harmed him somehow? That it distracted him, made him less careful, less alert to trouble? I’ve asked myself that, and it kills me that I’ll never know —”
“No! It’s nothing like that. Helping you, bringing Levi to you — it didn’t trouble him. And as strange as it seemed to you, it didn’t seem so strange to him. I’m sure he wasn’t thinking about it at the wrong time. No — I want to find someone else. Another Twin-Bred who can help you the way La-ren did.”
Mara’s jaw dropped. She turned and found another tree, leaned against it. “But — you didn’t like it. It felt wrong to you. Why would you want it to happen again? How would the next twin feel?”
“I was so stupid. I thought it was drawing La-ren away from me. When he was right there. When I could see him every day.” Judy fought back tears. “Now I know. I know what’s it’s like to lose him. To be incomplete. La-ren didn’t want you to feel like that. He was proud of helping you. He wouldn’t want those — those murdering bastards to put a stop to that, too. I could explain. I could explain it all to some of the others. I know whom to trust. And I can find a pair where one wants to help and the other doesn’t mind.”
Mara stood up, walked back to Judy’s “La-ren tree,” and put a hand against it. “Judy, I don’t know what to say. I’m grateful for your kindness. I’ll have to think about it. What I’ve lost — it doesn’t compare, not at all. But when we lost La-ren . . . it was La-ren, the only time I ever held my brother. It hurts that much more. I’m not sure how I feel about — opening myself up again.”
“If it was hard to lose, isn’t it worth having? Would you rather live without it, always?”
“Judy — if the other Tofa twins can do this for me, as Sel-ran and La-ren did . . . have you thought about — Judy, what could they do for you?”
Judy stared off into the trees. “It’s not the same. Levi lives in you. You kept him alive. You made him what he is. I’m sorry — I don’t mean to hurt you.”
Mara smiled ruefully. “It’s all right, Judy. I know he doesn’t have his own reality as La-ren did. Although I wonder, sometimes, whether there’s more to him than just my wishes or inventions or wild guesses. There we were, together, those first months. Maybe, just maybe, there was a person there already, someone to know — someone I knew.”
“I didn’t have La-ren inside me that way. I didn’t need to. I don’t know if he’s there now, enough for someone else to reach him.”
Mara motioned toward the compound. They started back, walking in silence. When they reached the cottage, Mara stopped and held out her hands. Judy held out hers, and Mara grasped them. “When you’re ready, we can find out.”
Part Three
Chapter 41
The human mayor of Varley stood to greet his visitor. He expected to remain standing. He had worn his arch supports. But the Tofa surprised him. “We may sit, if you like. I wish you to be comfortable.” Her — for some reason he was thinking of the visitor as female — her Terran was remarkably good. She folded herself into the largest chair in a manner he had not seen before; it looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t see how he could suggest anything different.
“Thank you. I listen better sitting down — and I’m eager to hear what you have to say. I gather there have been some changes in your community that I should know about?”
“There have. And in several other communities. Others like myself are meeting with leaders like yourself, to explain these changes.”
“May I record our meeting? If there’s anything you don’t want mentioned outside this room, you have only to tell me. Whatever isn’t confidential, I may release for broadcast, after my staff has reviewed it.”
The Tofa nodded. He had never seen a Tofa nod, at least not in that direction. “That is perfectly acceptable. I am quite accustomed to being recorded.” He had the fleeting sensation that she would have smiled, if that were possible.
Zachary Flint, the Chairman’s confidential assistant, insisted on speaking to Mara immediately, and never mind her weekly staff meeting. Mara closed the door to her office and pressed the “receive and record” button.
“Mara? It took you long enough. What the hell have you people sent out into the world?”
“Are you saying there have been more attempted missions since the moratorium? I don’t see how there could be. Since the last time, we’ve kept a very close watch —”
“No, dammit! Not your half-baked would-be ambassadors. The Tofa! This new kind of Tofa, who speak Terran better than my son-in-law, and seem to have every local Tofa official wrapped around their rotary-jointed fingers! The Tofa who are calmly suggesting that really, the time has come for joint human-Tofa local councils. The Tofa who just want the chance to keep the peace, who reassure us that their greater understanding of how humans tick can lead us all into the promised land of peace, prosperity, and not having to worry our little human heads. The Tofa!”
“Zack? Before I try to answer your questions, I need to check on something. I want to give you accurate information. Just hold on.” Without waiting for permission, she put him on hold-and-hide, shoved back from her screen, and put her head in her hands.
“Levi. Is this what I think it is?”
“Well, now we have confirmation of what happened to our vanished host mothers. And it may well be that this is why they left us. The question is: is this why they came to us in the first place?”
“You mean, the whole business with the extra Tofa embryos? Do you think they were planning, that far back — what? To try to form a connection with us, or learn about us, through the host mother process?”
“While we’re feeling out-played, Mara mia: maybe this explains why they cooperated at all. With the Project. Was there one Project, or were there two?”
“If they were planning from the beginning, running their own experiment, we have to ask ourselves: did the two Projects pursue the same goal? Ours hasn’t done what we hoped. Should we be grateful that they had another plan?”
“Our Project hasn’t gone so well, you say. But it started out with some success. Why has it foundered? And just before the Tofa host mothers reappear as the new Tofa power elite?”
Mara jumped out of her chair and walked to the window. She stared out at the host mother cottages. “No. I will not believe this. Why should we conclude that the Tofa mothers sabotaged the Twin-Bred? What evidence is there?”
“It may be there, if we look for it. And there is the absence of other hypotheses.”
“We should look for those too. And not just us.”
“Much as I esteem my own discernment, I agree. This is too big. We need to get everyone involved.”
“Oh, Lord — Flint’s still on hold.”
“It’s a good thing we talk fast. . . . Get rid of him. Tell him we’re checking out some answers. In motion, sis! We’ve got things to do.”
The auditorium was packed. Every security measure they could devise was in place. Every senior staff member and many of those more junior, every Twin-Bred, and every host mother considered sufficiently trustworthy was there and waiting.
Mara stepped forward.
“We have never met like this before. We have never had such need of each other’s insight and counsel. We have never had such decisions to make.
“I hope you have all reviewed the briefing I’ve prepared. If so, you know what we suspect.
“We must decide whether we believe that the Tofa authorities — starting before this Project began, before many of you were born — manipulated the Project to create Tofa who could understand, interact with, and even govern human communities. If th
ere are other explanations, we must assess them.
“If we decide that the evidence supports this hypothesis, then we must decide what predictions to make, and what actions to take, in response.
“If the Tofa did all this, then we could view their scheme as an alternative to what we all have worked for and planned. We must ask ourselves whether this alternative is likely to succeed, as we hoped to succeed. Whether it will bring peace and a stable future to this planet we share — or whether it will trigger worse conflicts than this Project, and possibly the Tofa, have worked to prevent.
“If we have been manipulated, we must decide whether to expose and oppose the manipulators — or whether to swallow our pride, and potentially our own dreams, and work to make a success of the plan that has supplemented or even superseded ours. Or are there other alternatives to explore?”
Mara looked around the room. She took a slow, deep breath.
“And now, I will start this discussion by speaking for myself only. There is one thing I must say. One fact that must not be forgotten — although there are other facts that may mitigate it. If the Tofa created an alternative to the Twin-Bred, and then used their influence to cripple this Project — then they are responsible for every casualty in the conflicts we have been unable to prevent. And. They. Killed. La-ren.”
“Sit down. Someplace soft. Lean back. And tell me all about it.”
Mara plopped down on the shabby armchair she had brought from her old apartment. The touch of the worn fabric was like visiting a distant and innocent past. “You’d think I’d be all talked out. But after my initial — outburst? — I didn’t do much of the talking. And it went on, round and round, for hours.
“We ended up agreeing on one simple fact: we have to try to work with them. To negotiate ways for the Twin-Bred to keep going out there and trying to help. Even if the Tofa host mothers are better with humans than normal Tofa, there aren’t that many of them. And we have no reason to assume their skills can be transmitted or delegated.”
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