Aetherbound

by E. K. Johnston

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “Thank you so much for this examination. It has set me at ease.”

  “That’s my job,” Morunt said. “Next time bring the boys in with you. I haven’t seen them in forever and they’re going to need to know what’s happening almost as much as you do.”

  “I will,” Pendt promised. She slid off the table, the paper gown she’d worn during the visit rustling around her. Not being naked made a big difference when it came to medical exams.

  Morunt nodded and left so that she could dress.

  * * *

  • • •

  “There’s one more thing I want to ask Dr. Morunt to do,” Pendt said as they tucked into dinner that evening. Fisher maintained that nachos were a snack, not a meal, but Ned argued that anything could be a meal if you were determined about it. Pendt was inclined to agree with him: Somehow, melted cheese was even better. “If it doesn’t work, it’s easy enough to reverse, and it won’t hurt either me or the foetus.”

  “What is it?” Ned asked.

  “The Dr. Morunt on the Harland did the procedure on my mother, before I was born,” Pendt said. “Sometimes Lodia would be implanted with two fertilized eggs, but only gestate one of them at a time.”

  “What happens to the other one?” Fisher asked.

  “In the case of my brothers Willam and Antarren, it didn’t work at all, and they were born as twins,” Pendt said. “But Tyro and I were born a year and a half apart. I’m fine, so I know it works.”

  “But you’re not carrying twins,” Ned pointed out.

  “No,” Pendt said. “What I’d like to ask is that Dr. Morunt put the embryo I am carrying into stasis. That way, the chromosome will be present, I can still find out if the station will respond to me, and I won’t have to . . .”

  She trailed off, but Ned was already nodding emphatically.

  “I didn’t know that was possible, but if you can get it to work, I think it’s a great idea,” Ned said. “I know this isn’t something you were worried about in terms of my involvement, but the idea of being a father scares the crap out of me and being an absent one is even worse.”

  “Your parents sound kind of awesome,” Pendt said. “I think it makes sense that you’d be nervous about being a parent with that act to follow. All I have to do to surpass my mother is have a kid that calls me ‘mother’ instead of ‘sir.’”

  “What happens if you can’t operate the station?” Fisher asked.

  “Then I’ll have Dr. Morunt reverse the stasis,” Pendt said. “Once he walks me through it, I should be able to do it myself, actually. I only need his help because I want to be sure everything is as safe as possible for everyone who needs this foetus to be viable.”

  “I wonder if your mother had been a gene-mage, if she’d have been able to stop the twins from being born together,” Ned mused. “Obviously, I am pro-twin, but I can understand how it might be a drain on resources on a spaceship.”

  “Everything is a drain on resources on a ship,” Pendt said. “I’ll make an appointment with Morunt for as soon as he’s available.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Dr. Morunt was not entirely pleased with the idea but was mollified somewhat by Pendt’s assurance that she had been fine as the “held-over” embryo. Pendt didn’t ask any personal questions, but she had a feeling that the idea that his sister had helped her mother might have made him feel better about the procedure too. Or, at least it might if they were going to talk about it. Which they were not. Once they worked out the logistics, it took only a few moments.

  Dr. Morunt placed his hands on Pendt’s stomach, and Pendt followed him through her pattern as he worked, learning what he was doing as he did it. The embryo was still microscopic, only split a few times, and it was easy to contain.

  Later, Pendt thought as they sealed it into the uterine wall, leaving it enough nutrients to sustain itself but not to develop. Later I will be back, and you will grow.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Pendt said as Morunt withdrew his hands.

  “I want the station to be safe as much as anyone else does,” he said. “And you are a bit young to be starting a family, for all we desperately need Ned to do exactly that. He’ll be leaving, I suppose? That boy was always restless, but since his parents were taken, it’s even worse.”

  “The station will be safe,” Pendt said. “I have promised to make sure of it. As for Ned, well, we both got something out of this arrangement, and both of us are convinced we got the better end of the deal.”

  “Come back whenever you like,” Morunt said. “Working with you is like nothing I’ve ever done before. It feels like we could move the stars.”

  “I think the stars are best left where they are,” Pendt said, a shudder running down her spine. “But I do want to learn the medical aspects of being a gene-mage, even though I think I like plants better.”

  “I’m happy to help,” Morunt said.

  Pendt left the office feeling lighter than she had felt since the morning after her wedding. She had no problem fulfilling her end of the bargain, and she would do it no matter what it took, but she was learning to factor herself into her calculations, and if she could make this easier on herself, she would. If it worked out, the station would be fine, and she would be able to give birth at a time of her choosing. Choosing was new for her, and she relished it. Getting one back at her family, who would have taken all her bodily choices away from her, was just a bonus.

  She waved at a few shopkeepers as she crossed the colonnade. There were so many faces here, but she was starting to recognize them, and they definitely recognized her. The Brannick citizens didn’t seek her out yet, not the way they did Ned when he walked the corridors, but that would come soon enough. She hoped. This was her home now, like the Harland had been. She had served the Harland because she had no choice. Brannick Station would have her, but they would have her because that was exactly what she wanted.

  16.

  TWO MORE WEEKS WENT by, and Pendt was healthy. She had been on Brannick Station for a month, and the changes in her body were amazing, even without taking the foetus into account. Her hair and nails were stronger, shinier. She walked around the whole station every day and it didn’t cause terrible muscle cramps or leave her winded. She couldn’t see the points of her bones sticking out of her skin anymore. She was softer. Rounder. Fuller. And every inch of her was better off.

  She spent her days working in hydroponics, tending to the wide variety of plants there. Just that section of the station was as big as the whole Harland, and she loved every inch of it and all the greenery within. Even two weeks into her tenure there, the changes in the crops were marked. Everything was healthier, growing stronger. She caught rot before it spread and knew just by looking at a tree if the fruit was ripe. She had never been more pleased with her work.

  Ned no longer invited her to his bed. After an entire lifetime of sleeping alone, she missed his reliable warmth, but she wasn’t about to push him. He organized his belongings, deciding what he was going to take with him when he left, and sent coded messages to his contacts in the rebellion, waiting to hear his assignment.

  Fisher showed her around operations. Ned could have done it just as easily, but the whole point was to learn how to make it work without him, so he stayed away. Pendt learned how each part of the station worked, how they functioned as a whole, and where the weak points were. She learned how to read schedules, and what to do in myriad possibilities of emergency on the loading docks.

  The embryonic stasis held. Dr. Morunt gave an official medical report that the foetus had stopped growing even though it was still alive. Pendt could tell that for herself, just as she could tell exactly how to reverse the procedure if she had to, but it was nice to have a doctor to rely on again, and this Dr. Morunt was even more considerate of her than the Harland one had been. All that remained was to see if the
foetus could, while in stasis, still operate the station.

  The first time Pendt tried to activate the Well, she passed out. Ned stepped in and sent the ship on its way, and no one thought anything was wrong, but Pendt was disappointed.

  “We knew it might not work,” Ned said later, in an effort to make them both feel better.

  “No, it did work,” Pendt said. “Or, at least, it was going to. It’s a different kind of magic than I usually do. I never thought about it, but your magic works differently than mine does. I went much too far into the station’s operating system. I just need to practice.”

  Miraculously, the Well was scheduled for routine maintenance checks starting the next day. Everyone on the station was notified that it would be flickering on and off all day, and not to worry about it. Pendt fainted three more times and ate the equivalent of five days’ protein ration, but eventually she had it down. She could turn on the Well on command.

  “The æther’s already there,” she said. “I don’t have to gather it together and look at it the way I usually would. I just have to input the key.”

  The Net was a bit harder to test, and since it was the one that could actually get people killed, it was imperative that Pendt get it right. If she could get it to work, then they would know it was safe for Ned to leave.

  The system they worked out was a variation on the one they used to train Pendt on the Well. They made sure that there was a maintenance check on the schedule, and then Pendt practiced activating it with nothing to catch. When she could activate the Net on every try, they moved up to catching the uncrewed drones that arrived, empty, from Katla five times a week to be filled with any unprocessed oglasa that Brannick had accumulated. Pendt didn’t miss any of them.

  Finally, the day arrived when Pendt would catch a crewed ship. It was the Cleland. Choria knew what she was getting into, and trusted Pendt’s record. Also, she was coming to Brannick to pick up Ned (and a few other rebel sundries she didn’t tell them about), so it seemed fitting.

  Pendt was very nervous.

  “You’ll be fine,” Ned said. “Just pretend it’s a drone.”

  “Choria doesn’t even know you and she trusts you based on the work you’ve done,” Fisher pointed out. “I can’t think of a bigger vote of confidence.”

  Pendt thought she might throw up. She hadn’t felt like this since she realized a month on Brannick passed, and there was no sign of her aunt. She was made of nerves, and all of them were on fire.

  “Activating the Net,” Pendt said.

  She reached for the æther the way Ned did, the way the baby would someday. Usually she went into a pattern and felt her way to the parts that would welcome her changes, but this was far more direct. The switch was right at the top. Flipping it was easy. Anything beyond that, any change or alteration to the actual system, would drain her.

  The Net surged to life and Pendt held it steady for five whole minutes as the Cleland landed in it. Pendt was new to hugs—activating was like throwing her arms as wide as a spaceship and catching the moving colossus—but if she thought of it as folding someone into an embrace, it was easier for her to execute.

  “You did it!” Ned said. He picked her up and swung her around like she hadn’t been putting on weight steadily since her arrival. She laughed, picturing herself as the ship and him as the Net, catching her.

  Fisher grinned and clapped her on the back after Ned set her on her feet.

  “We did it,” Pendt said. “How long do you have?”

  “Three hours,” Ned said. “Choria wants me well on board before they leave. It’s enough time for one more meal.”

  He grinned at her. She smiled back.

  * * *

  • • •

  The three of them went up to the apartment one last time. Ned’s things were mostly packed, but both Fisher and Pendt had independently got him gifts to take with him. Fisher went first.

  “I know whatever you take has to be small,” he said. “And that you might lose it in a storm of thrilling heroics, but I still thought this was a good idea.”

  He handed Ned a small package. Ned tore the paper off and smiled when he saw what he was holding in his hands.

  After a moment, he handed the frame to Pendt so he could hug his brother.

  Pendt looked at the image captured in it: two boys who were clearly younger versions of Fisher and Ned themselves, and two adults.

  “Mum and Dad,” Ned said. “Catrin and Ned the Elder. It’s them I’m fighting for. I miss them so much.”

  “I miss them too,” Fisher said. “And I miss you already, even though you’re a jerk and you haven’t even left yet.”

  “How am I a jerk?” Ned protested, laughing.

  “You’re supposed to be fighting for all of us,” Fisher said. He was laughing too.

  “I’ll manage it somehow,” Ned said.

  “I have something as well,” Pendt said. She had taken apart the crown that Ned and Fisher had given her for the wedding and figured out how to save the flowers under glass. The boys huddled over them. “I learned how to dry them and pressed a few into glass for you. It’s very sentimental. I’m honestly kind of proud of myself.”

  Ned snickered and set the glass where they could all see it. The flowers were mostly red and orange, bright and warm against the cold and dark of deep space.

  “I love them,” he said. “No matter where I go in this wide, wide universe of ours, I will always think fondly of the top of your head.”

  “Fisher’s right,” Pendt said. “You are a jerk.”

  “Hey now, I was promised a last meal,” Ned said. “Of course I’m a jerk. I haven’t been fed.”

  “Back to the bar?” Pendt asked. “For old times’ sake?”

  There were several other restaurants on the colonnade that Pendt actually preferred, but once she started being sentimental, it became a habit.

  “Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of several pieces of cake in place of a meal,” Fisher said. He got up and went to the refrigeration unit. “And what do you know! No need to go out. There’s a whole selection right here!”

  Ned got plates and forks, and they divided up the spoils. Pendt noticed that all her favourite flavours were present, and that Fisher was sure to point out the ones she hadn’t tried yet. She decided flan was disturbing. As the clock ticked down and they maxed out on the amount of sugar a human could consume, they ate more slowly, savouring each bite until it was time to go.

  Fisher carried one of Ned’s bags as they all went down to the bay where the Cleland was docked. People came out to see Ned off. Some of them looked frightened, but a medical release had been delivered to everyone on the station that morning, and they all knew that the Brannicks were still in residence. They reached the bay, and just the three of them were permitted inside. Pendt was glad to be free of the crush and grateful they would be able to say their goodbyes with fewer witnesses. She thought to duck away and give the brothers a few moments, but Ned pulled her close and didn’t let her go when he caught Fisher in the other arm.

  “I’m going to miss you both,” he said. “I know this is ridiculous, but I feel like I’d be doing so much more if I was out there, fighting. I was never meant for the station, no matter what my stupid genes say, and we’ve always known it.”

  “I have,” Fisher said. “I’m glad you found a way. I’m glad Pendt found us.”

  “You take care of my brother,” Ned said, tears in his eyes. Pendt blinked. “He’s always wanted to run Brannick Station, even though he’s never said it. And he’ll be better at it than I ever was.”

  “Ned, I—” Fisher started, but Ned held up his hand.

  “We knew, Fisher,” he said. “We’ve always known what our choices would be, if we had them. And now we do.”

  “Goodbye, Ned,” Pendt said. “Come back to us.”

  “I�
��ll bring fancy cheese,” Ned said. “Maybe even an actual cow so you can make your own.”

  “I’m not cleaning up after a cow,” Pendt said. “Not even for cheese.”

  “So ungrateful,” Ned said. “I have no idea why I married you.”

  He pulled them both in tight for another hug, and then took his pack from Fisher. He carried two bags and a small weapons chest into the Cleland’s airlock, and waited while it cycled him in. Just before the door sealed, he turned around and waved.

  Fisher and Pendt went up to the control room to wait for the Cleland’s departure. It took Choria about an hour to get everything settled once Ned was on board, and then the request to leave came through.

  “It’s all yours,” Fisher said, gesturing to Pendt.

  She stepped up to the controls and reached for the Well. It was almost second nature to her now, flipping the switch that would send the Cleland on its way. The Well flared to life, and the countdown started. Choria manoeuvred into position, and in a flash of rainbow, the Cleland was gone.

  “We did it,” Fisher said, slumping back in his chair. “We all got what we wanted. By some miracle we found one another, and we all got what we wanted.”

  He pulled her into a hug, squeezing her even more tightly than Ned had, and she could feel him smile against her hair. She looked up at him, answering him with her own grin.

  “Let’s go home,” he said.

  Pendt’s smile grew even wider. Fisher had the station, Ned was free, and she was always going to be full.

  “SHAKE LIKE THE BOUGH OF A WILLOW TREE”

  Some stories are so old that they take place on the ground, and this is one of them. Old stories are like oglasa, slippery and elusive, but there are plenty of them and plenty more, if you tend them properly. Stories keep forever, and they bring you life of a different sort.