Serendipity

by Dennis Ingram

  “Nuh uh. This is one time where what I say goes.”

  Veronika gave her a knowing look and asked one more question. “Are you sure you don’t want to know?”

  “The baby’s sex?”

  Veronika nodded.

  Bianca shook her head. “No, we’ve never done it. We like to keep it a surprise.”

  Veronika turned to wash her hands, gesturing to Bianca to show she could dress. “Then you have two names to choose.”

  “I know.” Joyce sat down next to Elizabeth where she sunned herself down by the lake. She’d been waiting for this opportunity for several days now, but finding Elizabeth alone wasn’t easy.

  Elizabeth’s head snapped around and she squinted at Joyce, the sun in her eyes. “Know what?”

  Joyce smiled. “How you feel about David.” She reached out to touch Elizabeth on the shoulder, but she pulled away.

  “How could you?”

  “Because it’s written all over your face. I see it. Others see it. Only David doesn’t.”

  Elizabeth bowed her head, one hand clenching the ground, and Joyce felt her heart go out to her. So young. She tried to remember what it was like to feel first love at her age. It wasn’t easy, keeping a cap on those volatile teenage hormones.

  “I know what you’re thinking, about me and David.”

  Elizabeth looked up, eyes narrowed, her feelings written on her face. “You do?”

  Joyce smiled and patted her hand. This time Elizabeth didn’t flinch. “It’s true David and I were together, once. A long time ago, especially for me.” She touched the side of her mouth, then smoothed the lines next to her eyes. “I’ve earned these wrinkles, Elizabeth. They’re lines inscribed here by a lifetime of joy, a lifetime with my love.” Her eyes misted as she reminisced. “I had sixty wonderful years with Vasily and I wouldn’t trade away one second, even if I could.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes softened.

  “David and me is way in the past, and that’s where it will stay.”

  “But you can be young again!”

  Joyce gathered her hands in her lap and smiled. “I might. Perhaps one day I will. But I’m happy as I am. There are advantages to being older, especially here.”

  “Really?”

  Joyce nodded. “Vasily and I, we had two children of our own.”

  “David and Grace,” Elizabeth said. “You named them after our David and –”

  Joyce took her hand again. “I know, dear, it’s hard. I’m glad we named our children for them. We hoped for grandchildren, but …” She looked away.

  Elizabeth squeezed her hand, understanding. “Perhaps you do have grandchildren, back on Earth.”

  Joyce nodded, eyes misty again. “Perhaps. Maybe one day I’ll go looking for them. But for now, I seem to be the only one in Haven old enough to be a grandmother, and by golly am I going to milk that for all it’s worth!”

  Elizabeth smiled, but her expression clouded. “No one here knows what a grandmother is like.”

  Joyce smiled. “Even better. I get to set the standard.” She squeezed Elizabeth’s hand again. “I hope I can be like your grandma, too.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “You do?”

  “Uh huh. I think you and I might be good friends.”

  Elizabeth’s smile wavered.

  “Don’t worry,” Joyce said. “I won’t be cradle-snatching David. David and I will be friends, but that’s all.”

  Joyce felt the tension leave Elizabeth’s grip. “Don’t go thinking it’ll be easy, though. You’ve set your sights on David, but he will take a long, long time to get over Grace. If you want to be with him, you must wait.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “I will. For however long it takes.”

  “There are no guarantees he’ll be interested, even then. Do you understand?”

  Elizabeth straightened her shoulders. “I don’t care. I’ll wait.”

  Joyce patted her hand. “We have lots to talk about then, dear. There’s much I need to tell you.”

  “Is it over now?” Nathalie asked. “Please tell me so.”

  The council had gathered to talk over plans to recover and push on with their future.

  David nodded. “Yes.” His eyes grew distant and they waited for him to continue. “We can return to the business of building a colony now. We’ve dealt with Edward and Carla and the rest of them. We’ve taken care of Opportunity or Doom or whatever you prefer to call it.”

  Nathalie sighed and lay her head on John’s shoulder. “There will be other asteroids.”

  David nodded. “Next time we’ll be ready. By then we’ll have our new ship, maybe more than one. There won’t be any last-minute heroics, we’ll nudge it when it’s far out.”

  “What about the squidges?” Nigel asked.

  David shifted his feet, not wanting to consider them yet. “We’ll continue to look into them,” he said, looking at Nigel and Josh. “Together with Scott. Let’s learn all we can. I can’t see them being a threat, though – after all, they’ve been gone for thousands of years.”

  “The point is, they came here from another world,” Josh said. “That’s big. We’re not alone.”

  David nodded. “No, we’re not. We’ll deal with that in time. For now, though, we need to build our strength and consolidate our position here on Serendipity. Then we can go looking for them.”

  He saw weary nods from the others. They’d had enough adventure for now.

  “We should raise a memorial,” Kevin said. “To honor Vasily.”

  The others agreed. No one mentioned those from Carla’s side who had died.

  “Solar Park,” Heidi said. “Let’s put it there.” She looked at David. “We should recognize Franz too.”

  David opened his mouth, but found he had no words. He turned to the others, looking for consensus.

  Kevin shook his head. “Not after what he did.”

  “But he redeemed himself,” Heidi said. “He paid the ultimate price.”

  Kevin looked surprised anyone would defend him. He turned to David. “How do we know what he did, exactly? Do you know for sure it wasn’t him who dropped the stasis field?”

  David squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead. He opened his eyes. “We may never know,” he said, “but what I do know is Haven needs no more villains. Let history show Franz redeemed himself and played his part in saving us.”

  He looked at Kevin. “I understand, but it’s time to forgive and forget, and move on.”

  Kevin acknowledged David’s judgment with a nod. David could tell it would take him time to forget what Carla, and by association the others, had done. It would take them all time. But they owed it to themselves to heal and move on.

  Bianca’s labor started early in the morning. The contractions came hard and fast, and she was afraid she wouldn’t make it to the Birthing Place before the baby came. But she rode at a brisk pace, like an Egyptian princess, on a litter reserved for that very purpose, borne by Kevin, Daniel, Sasha, and James. Within minutes they’d reached the soft platform in the place in Haven only visited by those preparing for a birth.

  The eight original colonists had set the Birth Place inland from the river. Like the original birthplace of Elizabeth, it lay close to the water, near a quiet pool lined with reeds and rushes. They laid Bianca in a clearing surrounded by fragrant, flowering trees and shrubs, sunlight filtering through the leafy canopy. Birds flittered and sang among the foliage, and the smell of incense permeated the air. Surrounding the platform, carved wooden poles recorded the names of those born there. A blank name-space awaited Bianca’s child.

  Bianca might have appreciated the scene of peace and tranquility better had she not been in the throes of agonizing pain. “Oh, God!” she screamed as another contraction took hold. “God! Make it stop!”

  “Push! You must push!” Veronika said.

  Bianca looked as if she wanted to slap her, sweat beading her forehead. “You try pushing!” She arched her back as the next contraction arrived.
>
  “I have it! I have the head!” Veronika said. “Again! Push again!”

  Bianca screamed as she once more bore down, her lips drawn back in a rictus of pain. Veronika guided the baby’s shoulders through, and then in a rush the child entered the world.

  Bianca fell back, exhausted, as Veronika checked the baby before reassuring the anxious parents with a smile.

  “All is well,” she said, turning the baby and rubbing its back.

  “What is it?” Bianca asked, craning her neck. Before Veronika could answer, the baby coughed and let out a wail. Veronika brought the baby to its mother where she took a look with her own eyes.

  “A boy!” she said, looking up at Kevin.

  “A boy,” he repeated, leaning forward to kiss his wife, a broad grin plastered across his face.

  Bianca had an hour to recover and bond with her new baby before they came, led by Nathalie, the first mother.

  They bathed her and dressed Bianca and Kevin in robes. They both exclaimed at the ornate garments, embroidered in red, blue, and gold. “These are magnificent. Are they kept for this ceremony?”

  Nathalie smiled. “They are for you to keep. You will wear them for each of your children. We pass them on to our daughters and our sons for the birth of their children, so keep them well.”

  They led Bianca and Kevin to the next clearing, where the ceremony would begin, touching the earth with their bare feet.

  Beforehand, they had to choose attendants – a protector and a guide. They asked David and Elizabeth to attend and left them to decide their roles. David in turn asked Elizabeth to choose. Overwhelmed at being the first of the second generation to be chosen, she elected to be the baby’s guide. David, as protector, now led the ceremony.

  A low drumbeat sounded from beyond the trees, through which dappled light filtered. People stood in the surrounding shadows as David stepped forward, holding his arms out for the child.

  He turned to face the clearing, Bianca and Kevin standing beside him. Elizabeth held out a bowl to him. Holding the child in the crook of his left arm, he cupped his right hand and drew a handful of water from the bowl. He turned to look at the child who returned his gaze with wide eyes.

  “These are the waters of our home,” David said, and trickled the water on to his head, soaking the few wisps of hair clinging there. The baby started and gurgled.

  “Water,” the crowd murmured.

  Elizabeth now held out a second bowl. David drew mud from it with a finger and swiped it across the child’s forehead.

  “This is the earth of our land,” he told him.

  “Earth,” the crowd echoed.

  He turned and held the child high in both hands, careful to support his head. “This is the air of our world.”

  “Air,” breathed the crowd.

  He lowered the child, holding him against his chest, facing out to the crowd.

  “Nathaniel van Zyl,” he said, naming the child, “these are your people!”

  The drums stopped.

  “Salā,” said the people, walking forward from the trees, greeting the newest of their own. “Salā,” they said, drawing out the syllables as they walked forward. “Sah-lah,” they said once more, smiling as they came. Nathaniel looked at them, unafraid, and David cradled him once more in his arms.

  “Salā, Nathaniel,” he said. “Welcome to your world, welcome to your people. You are one of us.”

  He looked up to Bianca and Kevin, then back to the smiling faces, waiting. “Come forward. Come forward and greet Nathaniel.”

  One by one, the people came forward and gently touched Nathaniel on his forehead with the forefinger and middle fingers of their left hand. “Salā,” they whispered, smiling at him, and repeating the greeting to Bianca and Kevin. Then they walked away, to meet again later in the park to celebrate over a meal.

  Emma was the only one left, her big sister Amber remaining to help.

  David knelt down, holding Nathaniel out so she could reach. She touched him with her little left hand and said in a clear, sweet voice: “Salā”.

  Bianca’s heart broke to see the little girl welcome her child. She seemed so little, so fragile; it was tragic for her to lose her mother at such a young age. She fell to her knees, unable to stop the tears from flowing down her face as Emma turned and touched her head, her eyes full of innocence.

  “Salā.”

  Bianca’s voice caught in her throat. She leaned forward and kissed Emma on the forehead as Kevin came to his knees beside her, taking her hand.

  Emma turned to him and touched his forehead. “Salā”, she said once more, then nodded once before running off to take Amber’s hand.

  Bianca looked at Kevin; even he could not stop a tear welling. She sobbed as she said, “We’ve found home.”

  Kevin squeezed her hand and nodded. “We are home.”

  Steve Pickard sat down next to John. “So, what are ya going to do now?” he asked, eying the ice bucket in the center of the table.

  John looked at Steve and turned to Heidi, one eyebrow raised. She smiled, and John leaned over to hoist a bottle from the bucket. He held it out to Steve.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” He popped the cap and took a long swallow. “Thanks mate, that really hits the spot.”

  John nodded.

  “So, what are you going to do?” Steve asked again.

  “Me?” John asked. “Do you mean me?”

  “Yeah, you. Now things have settled down, I mean.”

  John glanced at Heidi and shrugged. “What we’ve always done, I guess.”

  “Seems to me we don’t need you as much as we used to,” Steve said. He held up his hands at John’s reaction. “Don’t take that the wrong way. I mean, we have lots of engineers now and machines do a lot of the work anyway, right?”

  John studied his beer. “Right,” he said.

  “Maybe you could do something different.”

  John looked up. “Different?”

  Steve looked him in the eye. “I reckon we could use a pub around here.”

  John lifted his eyebrows. “A pub? You mean – like a real pub?”

  “Yeah, sure. Why not? You could start a business. In fact, why don’t we talk about joining forces?”

  “Oh, now I get it,” John said. “You and your food vouchers and fast food. I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s the future, and you guys must see it. Look what’s happening – I’ve got my burger joint, Ananda’s about ready to go with his Indian takeout, and Art Robbins is down there giving baseball lessons.”

  “That doesn’t mean we like it. We haven’t needed money so far and we got by just fine.”

  Steve changed tack. “You like a beer, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you like socializing when you drink it, right?”

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  “So you’d be the perfect publican.” He held up his bottle. “And this brew is pretty bloody good, mate. You’d have no trouble selling it.”

  John snorted. “That’s Heidi’s.” He glanced at Heidi. “She’s the brewer.”

  Heidi flushed. “I try.”

  “More than try! This is better than anything I had back on Earth.” Steve raised his bottle and took another slug.

  “Perfect. Do you see?” He looked at John. “You’d make the perfect publican, but you need beer.” He turned to Heidi. “There’s your supply chain, right there. Heidi brews it, you sell it and you both share the profits.”

  John and Heidi looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  “What? What are you laughing at?” Steve asked. “What’s so funny?”

  John wiped the tears from his eyes as he fought to stop laughing. “Sorry mate, I just can’t see us flogging home brew for a bunch of food vouchers.”

  Steve lowered his head for a moment, then stood. “Think about it, OK? Haven needs people like you to help grow the economy.” He finished his beer in one long gulp and set the bottle on the table. “Th
anks for the beer.” He nodded once and headed off out into the balmy Haven evening.

  “Heh, heh,” John cackled.

  Silence fell.

  “I quite like the idea,” Heidi said, rubbing her chin.

  John’s beer stopped halfway to his mouth. “You do?”

  “Why not? Our apprentices need something to do. They could help us build. Especially the new ones,” she said, thinking of the children from the Inspiration now swelling their ranks.

  John pursed his lips. “Hmmm.” He finished his beer and reached for another two bottles, passing one to Heidi.

  “How exactly do you think it would work?”

  “It doesn’t seem possible.” Sabine pressed her palm to the observation window of the incubator. Behind the glass, a translucent membrane floated in a vat of nutrients, tubes snaking out of the vat to cylinders and pumps and other apparatus. A tiny fetus grew within.

  She looked up into Simon’s eyes and he squeezed her hand. “Believe it. There she is.”

  “Will she be normal? Is it even possible?”

  “Hey!” Silvia said. “I’m standing right here!”

  Sabine blushed. “Oh! Sorry, I forgot. I mean –”

  Silvia laughed. “It’s OK. I know it doesn’t seem possible, but I turned out OK.” She hiked up the front of her top. “See? I even have one of these.”

  Sabine looked at her belly button and smiled.

  “Don’t worry, she’ll be as normal as you are.”

  Simon widened his eyes for a fraction of a second too long. Sabine’s elbow found his midriff.

  “Oooff.”

  “I saw that!”

  They gathered in the colony’s new stasis suite, after dark, as conspirators should.

  “Remember,” Veronika said, her eyes fierce. “No one must tell, ever!” She looked around her at her co-conspirators, daring them to disagree.

  “Never,” Nigel said.

  “Never,” Josh echoed.

  Veronika glared at Yuri and Bethany, and they held her gaze. “We promise,” they said. “We will never tell.”

  Behind them, in the smallest chamber, lay a small containment vessel, a cryogenic container large enough to hold a human head. The indicator light on the chamber control panel glowed a steady green.