IGMS Issue 47

by IGMS

  Sinette shook her head. "He loves me. They all do."

  "Please." Rose stood slowly. "You can't go back, even if you want to. You'll be happier if you can accept that."

  Sinette stayed silent. Until she tried everything she and Jorin could come up with, there was nothing to accept.

  Rose knelt down beside her, covering Sinette's tight-clenched hands with her own. "I love you too, you know. Central Nav doesn't want you to know what it's like out here. They would rather you stay naïve enough to never question the decisions they make for you. You are a person, Sinette. Don't you want to know all of what that means?"

  Sinette's face felt hot and she clutched the tablet even more tightly. She stared hard at Rose's face. Their eyes met. Even without visible energy she could feel the connection pulsing between them. Her mother really did love her. Slowly, she unclenched her hand. Rose took it.

  Sinette added another layer of vegetables to the salad. Though it was a far cry from intravenous nutrient solution passing through her system, she loved the warm, delicious smells of the kitchen. Cooking was new and different. It was a challenge for her still-clumsy fingers, and her mind clung desperately to the complex chemical formulas that yielded nutritious, good-tasting sustenance.

  Behind her, Rose stood at the stove, humming under her breath as she added a splash of wine to the sauce. Sinette smiled. Working together felt right. It was one of the few similarities between this place and home. She chopped a cucumber with slow, measured strokes.

  Pleasant or not, she still wanted to go back. No, she needed to go back. As far as she could see it, her body was the source of the problem. It was the piece that was holding her here. If there were some way she could take her organic form out of the equation, getting back might be possible.

  The tip of the knife skidded along the vegetable's slick surface and sank into the tip of her finger. She yelped, dropping the knife and staring as line of crimson welled from the split skin.

  "It's okay." Rose appeared at her shoulder. She took Sinette's hand in hers, examining the wound. Sinette's finger throbbed. The blood kept coming in brilliant ruby droplets, little bits of her scattered on the kitchen floor. Her head spun and her stomach turned over.

  "Take a breath." Rose looped an arm around her waist. "Look at me."

  Sinette did. Rose took a breath and Sinette found herself copying it. Rose exhaled and Sinette did the same. The spinning sensation faded a little.

  "Good girl. Now, let's get you patched up, okay? It's not so bad. Just needs a little attention." Rose led her to the bathroom and sat her on the edge of the bathtub. In no time, the cut was clean and sealed.

  "There you go." Rose kissed the tip of the newly bandaged finger. "All better."

  "Thank you." Sinette studied her hand. Theoretically she had known how easy it was to cut through organic skin. The practical experience was worse than she would have thought.

  "It's nothing." Rose smiled. "A mother's job."

  Sinette tilted her head to better see the other woman. "Why did you give me up?" It made no sense given how much Rose seemed to care for her. "If you want me so much now, why not at the beginning?"

  "It's complicated." Rose turned, moving to put away the first-aid kit.

  Sinette wanted an answer. "As complicated as interstellar physics?"

  Rose sighed, shoulders slumping. "I worked in the labs at Central Nav. My job was growing the genetically modified embryos that were donated to the program until they were strong enough to be fused with the machinery." A deep frown twisted Rose's mouth. "Most of the embryos are too weak to survive the fusion process. I could usually tell which ones wouldn't make it. It didn't bother me at first . . . the cost of doing amazing things is always high. When I got pregnant with you, well, let's just say it was something of a paradigm shift. I realized, far too late perhaps, that they weren't just experiments. They had the potential to be people."

  Rose leaned on the edge of the sink, clutching the porcelain tightly. "I started sneaking the high risk embryos out and giving them to people looking for children. People who might not be able to get them other ways. It was illegal and against every contract I signed, but each death seemed like yours."

  "They caught me, of course." Rose stared at the floor, speaking softly. "Nothing like that can stay a secret forever. Your father left me and I was facing a long time in jail. They offered me a deal. All under the table, mind you. There isn't any record of it. They agreed to drop the charges if I gave you to the program."

  "Why?" Sinette barely believed what she was hearing. Embryos donated to the nav program were supposed to be free and clear. No compensation of any kind was offered to the parents. It was supposed to be a place for unwanted children to have a chance at useful, productive, even extraordinary lives.

  "So few of the donated embryos start from a good place. Most come from parents who don't think they'll be able to raise children. The embryos often have complications from maternal drug use or who-knows-what else." Rose shook her head. "With my genetic profile and health, there was a greater chance of success. Your father agreed immediately. Flying among the stars was the best life he could imagine for you. I hated him for that."

  "In the end, I was tired. My lawyer didn't believe there was any other way out, and your father was hounding me to agree to it. I gave in." Rose put her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry, Sinette. I should have fought harder for you in the first place. Maybe then we both could have had the lives we deserved."

  Sinette got to her feet, her hands shaking. Was this how Central Nav operated? Stealing children away? What about Jorin? Did he have an organic family out there somewhere, missing him as much as Rose had missed her?

  Slowly, she put her arms around Rose. "It's okay, Mother. I'm here now." It was strange to touch, to feel Rose sigh against her chest, with nothing connecting them but the warmth of their organic bodies.

  We have to try harder, Sinette. It's been so long.

  Sinette curled tighter under the covers, cradling the tablet close enough to her face that she could see each individual pixel that made up the words he sent. Time moved too quickly in the arc for visual or verbal messaging. She didn't know if Jorin was frustrated or angry. He was certainly lonely. You should consider the possibility that I can't come back. You should think about finding someone else.

  I would have better luck removing a leg and attaching a new one in its place. Can you imagine? I'd be all uneven. The screen was blank for a moment. He would be towing ships down the filaments between galaxies, only a small part of himself devoted to their conversation. Do you want to stay?

  No. She answered immediately. Of course not. For the first time, she found herself wondering what his face would look like when they talked. Would he be handsome like the transport driver who had taken them to the store this morning? Stoop-shouldered and short like their neighbor? Would his expressions show the depth of his feelings like Rose's did, or be blank and remote like her own reflection in the bathroom mirror.

  Then help me think. You haven't been online much lately.

  There's been a lot going on. Guilt squirmed in her stomach. She had been distracted by life with Rose. It was so much richer than she ever imagined possible.

  Go or stay, Sinette. Just don't leave me wondering if I'm the only one who wants you back. He was angry.

  Don't be stupid. The words were sent before she thought about it. Wait. Jorin. I'm sorry. She sent quickly, knowing he would have already had the equivalent of days or years to think about her hurtful words. She had the near-constant company of someone who loved her, while he waited out there in the darkness, searching for a way to bring her home. Do you think Central's been completely honest with us?

  No. His answer came quickly.

  How do you know? It was news to her.

  They told me you had died. Heart failure from an energy surge. That didn't seem to match what I felt from you when you dropped out, so I kept looking.

  Would you leave if you could? They
could live with Rose, all three of them together.

  I don't want to leave, Sinette. Everywhere has its problems. I would rather live with Central's screw-ups than your mother's. Central never risked your life because they were lonely.

  It's not that simple. She shot back. Central risks lives, ends lives, for a bridge to the stars. Is that a better reason? And even if it is, does that absolve them of what they did?

  Of course not. But your mother isn't exactly blameless. She could imagine his energy patterns fluttering as he thought through what he wanted to say. Whatever Central has done, I love this life. Navigating is so much more than just Central. You can't tell me you don't miss being the best there is. I know you miss us.

  The idea of ripping him away from the stars and confining him to one path and one time hurt her more than never seeing him again. He had the other navigators with him, closer than skin, knowing each other's minds without words. I do. She wrote at last. But I'm not who I was.

  Neither am I. Story of the universe there, love. At least she wasn't alone in her frustration. Sinette, I don't want you to come back just because I want you with me. If you choose this path, it has to be because YOU want to be here.

  Flying through the galaxies together seemed like another life. It didn't matter what she chose in the end if her broken body couldn't be fixed. She was grounded unless they could do that one impossible thing.

  Her thoughts tangled and opened up, as though catching on a new filament. The idea at the end of that new path nearly took her breath away. If she wanted to go back to space, her broken, organic form had to be taken out of the equation. If she could find a different, separate anchor, her self, mind and energy, could fly.

  She took a breath and let it out slowly, searching for calm. It was too much to decide all at once. There were things to do and see here that rivaled navigating through the universe. I'll keep looking for a way back. She typed. So we have options. It was all she could give him right now.

  Falling leaves spun through the air around them as they raced each other down the path. Sinette's thighs burned and the fall air bit brightly at her lungs. Cool stone slid under her fingers as she threw herself onto the bench a fraction of a second before Rose. Her body was getting stronger. Rose collapsed beside her and they sat in silence, panting.

  "I used to play in this park with my mother." Rose sat close beside her.

  Sinette caught one of the blowing leaves and twirled it between her fingers. The veins traced the leaf's surface like filaments through space, branching and re-branching, bringing energy to every part of the delicately interwoven system. She pinched the stem hard enough to feel the fibrous material deform.

  Rose caught her hand. The leaf fluttered to the ground. Rose smiled wryly. "Your father loved it here, too."

  "Do I look like him?" Sinette's turned her hand over in Rose's and twined their fingers together. She had stared at the mirror for hours, looking for signs of Rose in her thin face and stick-straight hair. It didn't match.

  Rose's shoulders tensed and her face closed down. "Not exactly."

  "What's wrong?"

  "It's just . . . the people I hired to get you out had to guess. There wasn't much time and the files were heavily encrypted." Rose tipped her face up towards the swirling leaves.

  Sinette stared at her. There were seventeen other female navigators, four of whom were in her approximate age range. A hot dart of disappointment surprised her. From Rose's reaction, the disparity in their appearances likely couldn't be attributed to her father. Which meant the odds that Rose's associates had gotten the right girl were low. If there was even a right girl to get.

  "Do you even know if she lived?" Sinette asked, voice shaking.

  "It doesn't matter." Rose pulled Sinette tight against her chest. "You're my daughter now."

  Sinette felt numb. She could have a DNA test run simply enough, but it seemed entirely too late for that. She bit her lip until she tasted blood. She pulled back, staring at Rose's now familiar face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "You wouldn't have given me a chance." Rose raised her chin, mouth tight. "Would you have?"

  "I don't know." Sinette thought it was the idea of mother that had drawn her out in the beginning. The idea that she had come from this woman had mattered to her. She didn't know how she would have reacted to the truth if Rose had been honest about it from the start. And now, they would never know.

  "You wouldn't have." Rose said firmly, cupping Sinette's face between her hands. "And look what we would have missed out on! You're everything I could have wanted, Sinette. I love you."

  Sinette said nothing. She couldn't find any trace of remorse in the other woman's face.

  "This doesn't have to change anything," Rose said softly. There was the barest tremble in her voice. It sounded like fear. "Biology doesn't make the things we've shared any less real. Will you at least try to forgive me? Please."

  Sinette wasn't sure she wanted to. Her mother didn't seem to understand what Sinette was giving up for Rose's dream of a daughter. The trust and respect of her comrades. The beauty and wonder of space travel. Jorin, who had never lied to her.

  But Rose had shown her what it meant to live a human life. She would have lived forever without knowing about parks and paintings. About cooking and cars. About the loving touch of another organic being.

  Slowly, Sinette nodded. She could see how lonely Rose must have been before - as lonely as Sinette was without the other navigators. She knew the wild, desperate need for connection that drove a person to the limits of sanity: something else Rose's actions had taught her. Perhaps forgiveness could come from that understanding.

  Sinette smiled to herself as she read Jorin's latest message. He had found the schematics she had asked for. Combined with the mind transmission program she had nearly finished, they were very close to a real answer. If she went back to the arc, she would miss Rose, but there was nothing that said they couldn't chat like she and Jorin did now.

  "What are you so happy about?" Rose asked from the doorway.

  Sinette jumped, slamming the off switch and flipping the tablet over. After Rose's initial outburst, she had made sure not to talk to Jorin when her mother was around.

  "You're talking to him again." Rose's face was dark with confusion and anger. "It's been eight months. I thought we were doing better."

  Sinette clutched the tablet to her chest. One moment all she wanted was to go home, the next she couldn't imagine leaving.

  Rose yanked the tablet out of Sinette's hands. "You can't keep doing this. I won't have him feeding you whatever lies he can think of to drag you back."

  "Please, Mother." Sinette's reached for it. "He isn't feeding me anything."

  "No." Rose tucked the tablet more securely under her arm. "You can't go back. I won't have it."

  Sinette's eyes burned. She touched them gently. Her fingers came away wet. "What if it's still the life I want?"

  "We nearly killed you getting you out. Even if Central Nav would let you try, you have no way to connect to the arc. Tying you in with faulty circuitry would kill you." Rose turned away from her, shoulders tight. "I need you, Sinette. You're all I have."

  "What will I do if I stay here?" Living in her organic body for so long had been educational, but after Rose's confession it felt a little empty. She didn't blame Rose for her actions, but the trust they had been building hadn't returned. Without it, Sinette found herself drifting more and more often in memories of colors and textures that didn't exist in Rose's world.

  "Do?" Rose shrugged. "We can keep doing what we have been doing. I have resources. You don't need to work."

  "What if I want to?" A life with nothing to do sounded terrible. She needed something more to hold her here.

  "I suppose we could find you something, but really, darling, people work their whole lives just so they don't have to any more. Wouldn't it be better if you just stayed with me? I'll take care of you. We'll have fun, just the two of us."

  "I
want to do something." Physics and navigation. Quantum mechanics and computer programming. Her brain was rotting away with the amount of nothing it was doing these days.

  "You need a hobby." Rose said firmly. "Maybe something artistic. You liked the paintings at the museum the other day, didn't you? You would probably make a wonderful painter with your attention to detail." Rose smiled again. "What do you say? Want to try it?"

  For a moment, Sinette was caught up in the idea. She had liked the paintings. The swirling colors and textures had looked like home. She nodded slowly. Maybe she could bring those things down to earth.

  She met Rose's nearly feverish eyes and she saw abruptly how it would be. Rose would never stop wanting Sinette to fill the holes in her own life. She would be Rose's beloved daughter, cooking and running in the park and painting memories. Nothing more.

  Sinette the navigator would be gone. The stars would be nothing more than pinpricks of light in the sky. The lessons she had learned wouldn't matter to anyone.

  Sinette stood on the roof, watching the stream of transport vehicles flowing along in neatly ordered lines. The air was damp and chill. Somewhere above the clouds, the stars burned. If everything worked out, she would be seeing them properly soon.

  Strand by strand, she had woven her machine together, waiting until Rose was out and only using things her mother wasn't likely to miss. Her fingers had been slow and clumsy at first, but she had learned.

  Thought was energy, relayed in highly complex but traceable patterns. Sinette was hoping it would be enough. Uploading her mind into the quantum arc would leave her body unable to function. For all organic purposes, she would be dead.

  Energy transfer wasn't hard, really, even on the scale she wanted. She just needed to pass her brain function along directly into the nav network. The program she had written should be enough to maintain her integrity through the transfer.

  She settled onto the ground, beginning to connect wires to the improvised transmitters she had threaded into her remaining cybernetics. Even if this worked, she would never guide ships again. But she would be with Jorin and the others. She would fly through the universe.