by London, Lia
“Which means I need to run.”
“Yes.”
“Faster than you.”
He chuckled. “Think you can?”
“I have no idea. Let’s go try.”
“What? Now?” He laughed and lay back. “I’m ready for a nap.”
“No, no. The others will be here soon. We won’t be able to train anymore.” I’d probably already lost my option for a single shuttle to the Arxon and would have to get to one of the other city-stations and transport from there. My delay was going to be costly.
We wound through the tunnels, emerging onto a wide valley. The blades of grass were almost thigh high and sharp, so I was glad to have on my boots and leggings.
“I’ll give you a head start,” said Jule, squinting in the sun. “Ten seconds. Then we’ll see how far you can get before I catch up.”
I expected a short run, light-headed as I was. The altitude affected me more than in past years, probably due to all my time in space and at sea-level in Ikekane. “Meet you at the other side!” I teased.
I took off running, keeping my arms close and pumping hard to avoid the tips of the grass. The ground was mostly level and free of rocks, so I could keep my eyes up. Thirty strides later, I heard Jule call out, “Coming!”
I kicked up my speed and ran, sucking the wind with relish. The physicality of Surface life invigorated me.
The thought sent a stab of guilt through my stomach.
Dag.
We’d spent two nights together as husband and wife, a time of joy and sorrow mixed so tenderly in each other’s arms. Tears streamed from my eyes, whether from the whipping wind, the loss of my parents, or my worry for Dag, I wasn’t sure. He must be so terrified after what we’d been through. We’d not been able to communicate yet. Why hadn’t we brought the SWaTT?
Emotions flooded me, and my pace slowed.
“Got you!” Jule came along side me, panting and grinning. “Hey, you’re pretty fast.”
Turning back to our starting point, I saw how far I’d come.
“You slowed a bit at the end there. Getting tired?”
“Just thinking too much.” Without warning, my stomach soured, and I retched into the grass.
“Whoa! Did you run too hard?” Jule gaped at me.
My eyes erupted with tears as my stomach roiled.
“Oh.” Jule’s countenance changed to one of sympathy, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “My guess is you’re feeling too hard. I don’t blame you. It rips a person up inside to go through that kind of loss.”
Sobbing, I folded myself into his chest. “If I’d known my parents were going to die, I would’ve come home from Tye sooner.” I sniffed. “But then I wouldn’t have had the time with Dag, and now I miss him, too. I don’t know when—”
Jule let go with a yell and drew a laser pistol, firing at something on the ground beside my spilled vomit.
“Viper!”
He’d sliced the thick black snake neatly in half, leaving only a few blades of singed grass otherwise touched.
My entire body shuddered involuntarily, and I spewed again, this time out of fear.
“Now, now,” he chided kindly. “Stop doing that, or more will come.”
I wiped my mouth. “Let’s get back home. Maybe this will keep them busy while we run.”
“Run? You just barfed twice.”
“I’ve got nothing weighing me down now.” I took off at full speed, expelling all the nervous, angry, sad energy I had.
“I don’t need to train you for running,” he called out as he slowed a few meters behind me.
“No, but we should get back to target practice. Even if I never turn a gun on a person, I’d love to be able to protect myself from vipers.”
22 ~ A Deal and a Plan
Our strenuous exercise and lack of food took its toll on me by the time Saloma’s camp finally joined us. Jule and I came down from the Etak Room, as we’d dubbed it, to find everyone assembled and the lower cavern alight with over ten top-grade lanterns. The panting breath and the murmurs of approval echoed off the walls.
Jule and I moved forward to welcome everyone and organize the piles of gear. When we found the first sack of food provisions, he didn’t hesitate to pull out some fresh fruit for us.
“I don’t suppose there are any nutrition supplements?” I asked weakly of one of the older women who helped us sort through the foodstuffs.
She arched a brow at me. “Is your body telling you something?”
I managed not to roll my eyes. She had to be one of those gypsies who think a body will ask for specific ingredients when it’s lacking certain vitamins or minerals. “I haven’t eaten anything with calcium in it for a while,” I said. “I’ve been feeling a little tired and light-headed. I probably need more protein, too.” Maybe humoring her would hurry her into giving me more substantial food.
But instead, she peppered me with questions about how I felt, the nature of my excrement and sleep, and everything in between. At last she finished with, “When’s the last time you were with a man?” Her pointed look clarified her meaning.
“I was married a few days before I came to your camp.”
“And where is your husband now?”
“On the Arxon. He’s a doctor there.”
She stood taller, stretching her back and studying me with an appraising smile. “Well, then you should go to him. He’s going to want to help you with the pregnancy, no doubt.”
“Pregnan—!” I slapped my hands over my mouth, but not before several turned to see why I’d yelped.
With a bemused grin, Saloma sauntered over and put a hand on my back. “Oh my. That was quick, wasn’t it?”
Regaining my composure, I dropped my hands to my side and lowered my voice. “It’s far too soon to tell, and he and I were only together once.”
“Once is all it takes,” said the woman before bending back to work.
“I’m not—”
Saloma draped her arms over my shoulders and held her forehead close to mine. “If Libby says you’re pregnant, you’re pregnant. She’s the best midwife in the Gypsy Network.” She chuckled even as I whimpered.
“How is my life flying out of control so fast?”
“You fell in love,” she said matter-of-factly. “It messes with the best of us.”
I sighed and lifted my eyes to meet hers. “Do you really think there’s a chance I’m pregnant?”
“Either way, you should probably get back to your husband.”
“You won’t think I’m abandoning the gypsies?”
She clucked her tongue at me. “Haven’t you given us the gift of this amazing place? I can’t wait to see it all. There is so much potential.”
I nodded. “There really is. If we had miners and other technicians, we could make quite a comfortable haven out of this mountain.”
“Now you’re thinking like a leader.” She grinned. “Will you show me the Etak Room Jule told me about?”
“Of course.” We left the others to organize themselves in the main lower cavern, and I led her through the tunnels. For the most part, we walked in silence, using one of the lanterns. I showed her where we’d found places to dispose of human waste and where the sources of water gurgled through the passageways and caverns. I pointed out hidden indentations good for hiding valuables and where the air shafts poked through. When at last we reached the Etak Room, she gasped.
“This is beautiful!”
I grinned. “It is, isn’t it?” The climb had winded me as had my intermittent thoughts of what would happen next in my life.
Saloma cupped my shoulders and beamed. “Brita, this is…” She broke into a laugh. “I don’t even know how to thank you for this.”
“How about you don’t tell everyone I’m a Glenn royal.”
She shook her head. “Do you really think anybody’s going to care?” She patted my arm and moved towards the water hole. “I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to,” she promised. “But if you’ve inherited
any of Levia’s leadership and energy, you could do great things for the gypsy cause.”
“My mother said her energy came from that pearl, remember?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Or maybe she had a vision.” Folding her arms at her waist, she turned to me, her face oddly majestic in the pale blue light of the etak crystals. “Let’s get you back to the Arxon. I won’t tell anyone who you are if you don’t tell anyone else about this place until we meet again.”
Meet again? “Of course.”
“While you’re up there, see if you can find other mixed-breeds who might have access to knowledge or technology that could help us.”
“You mean engineers and electricians?”
“I mean anyone who could help us come onto equal footing with the stationaries. You know they don’t let us into their schools and data banks.”
“I’ll do what I can, but how can I get you connected to anyone I find?”
“Just gather information,” she said. “Our paths will cross again.”
“Like with Dare.”
She smiled up at the etak crystals. “Yes.”
I realized something then about Saloma. Something I could admire. She calculated her moves with patience. Even in her chilly execution of the Crimson Guards, she’d been efficient and dispassionate. She saw the long fight ahead for gypsy equality and was willing to pace herself and wait when needed, working on other aspects of her people’s needs in the meantime.
My head tilted at my own thought. Gypsies didn’t belong to anyone, and yet with Saloma, at least some came together to form more lasting bonds. I wanted to see how this would play out, but for now I needed to get to my new home with Dag.
23 ~ A New Home
Dag met me as I came out of intake and squeezed me in such a tight embrace I dropped my patchwork satchel. His mouth closed over mine, and the kiss lifted me off my feet with a feeling of joy and relief.
Breathless and giggling, I whispered, “Well, you’ve recovered from your ordeal.”
Nuzzling my nose, he said, “Newlywed husbands are not supposed to go forty-three days without their bride.” He tucked my head under his chin and held me close. “How are you enduring? Have you been able to think straight? Sleep?”
“Badly, no, and no. But it’s getting better.” I squeezed him. “Better now that I’m with you.”
“I had quite a few flashbacks to the time when I lost my parents, but it’s nothing like what you had to do… watching it happen. I’m so sorry, sweet Brita.”
“You’re my family now.” I said it and realized immediately that I was the same to him. We were alone in the System but for each other.
He stooped and picked up my satchel, then wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me down the corridor. His eyes brightened with the hint of a smile. “I have some exciting news.”
“So do I.” At least I hoped he’d be excited. One of us needed to be.
“You first,” he offered.
“No, that’s all right.” We reached the lift, and he ushered me inside with a wide grin.
“Well, then. Notice anything different about me?” he asked, pressing the button to take us up to the resident decks.
“Your hair is shorter again.” I tried not to sound disappointed.
Dag suppressed a smile. “Try again.” He puffed out his chest and smoothed his hand down his lab coat.
“You’ve been working out more?”
He tapped his finger on an emblem over his left shoulder.
“It’s the one you had before.”
Dag shook his head, still beaming. “Nope. Now it’s rimmed in silver threads.”
I shrugged. “And that means…?”
“I’ve been promoted, Brita. I’m second in command of the medical team now!”
My eyes popped wide. “That’s stellar! How—you’re so young!”
He swept me into another hug. “It’s because of you and your gypsy remedies. I’ve been doing loads of research and have found ways to integrate traditional synthetic medicines with your natural homeopathic ones, and many residents are finding themselves in better health than they’ve experienced in years!”
Pride swelled in me. “It couldn’t have happened to a more deserving man.”
“No bias?”
“Of course not. You’re an outstanding doctor, husband, and father.”
His bark of surprise coincided with the lift doors opening onto the resident deck. Seven spaceys exchanged alarmed glances while I burst out laughing.
“Are you serious?” He stood rooted to his spot, much to the obvious annoyance of the people waiting to enter the lift.
“Yes, dear husband,” I said, gently shoving him out. “Shall we go celebrate?”
We all but skipped down the corridor to his quarters, passing many curious residents along the way. At his door, he paused. “This is it. This is our home now.”
“Hasn’t it been your home all along?” I’d never been allowed on the Arxon resident dorm decks.
“No, as a single man, I dormed with another male resident. When I told them I’d married, they gave me family quarters.”
“Family.” I let the sound of the word wash over me.
Dag grew solemn. “We’ve both lost our own families, so now we begin all over. A new kind of family.”
“Spacey, gypsy and colonist all in one.”
Giving me one more kiss, he pressed the thumb-print scanner, and we entered the Artemus home.
It was not a primitive hut overlooking a tropical lagoon. It was not an aromatic campsite beneath a canopy of trees. It was not a majestic volcanic cavern bathed in pale blue light.
It was a very plain, very beige, boxy suite of rooms with a long, thin window showing the never-ending blackness of space.
Dag’s hand warmed mine. His baby grew inside of me, alongside a cold emptiness I could only explain by the loss of everything I had always called home.
24 ~ Prejudices
I quickly came to loathe the Arxon coversuits. While I could appreciate the advantage of simplicity in laundering services, the maternity coversuits had to be the least flattering articles of apparel ever invented. As my abdomen swelled, I took to wearing some of my mother’s loose gypsy blouses over the top of my coversuit. To my surprise, this elicited snide comments whenever Dag was not with me. In the cafeteria, the lift, the rec hall … wherever I went, the whispered “gypsy” sounded more like an epithet than a simple cultural distinction. Residents looked the other way when we approached in a corridor or avoided sitting in a place I had just vacated. Hisses of “unclean” were always floating around the corner.
Then one day, trapped on the lift with two balding, pasty men, I felt myself almost wither under their disapproving glare.
“Gypsies need to stop wandering around the System and come in for a landing,” said one to the other. “They cause instability by spreading ideas.”
I stiffened. “Ideas, not germs?”
The other man flared a nostril. “Both can be toxic.”
Silence followed me out of the lift and back to our quarters, though I’m sure the people around me spoke. I walked in a cloud of confusion and hurt. I jammed my thumb at the sensor, wishing I could slam the silent, sliding door.
“Brita! What’s wrong?” Dag looked up wearily from a digi-pad on the table.
Like a geyser, I exploded. “What’s the matter with people on this ICS? Haven’t I done everything to fit in? Haven’t I followed all the customs and been friendly to everyone? Haven’t I been trying?”
Dag’s eyes flickered to my blouse and hair.
“What? Really?” I tugged off the blouse angrily. “A little color to cheer me up and cover my bump? That’s too much for them?” I wadded up the cloth and threw it onto the sofa.
“Brita, it’s going to be all right.” He rose and came to me, his hands sifting through my hair. “They’ll get used to the idea—”
I slapped his hands away and stomped to the drawer where we kept first aid
supplies. “No. No, they won’t. They’ve had me here for seven months now, and months before that on the last rotation. Face it. These people can’t abide anything different. If it’s not just like them, if it’s not white and sterile and bland, then it must be dirty and… and toxic!” I snatched up the scissors and stormed to the bathroom vanity.
“Brita, what are you doing?”
Holding a thick clump of my hair up, I began cutting.
“Brita, no! I love your hair!”
“No one else here does. The curls are full of germs, you know. And conspiracies to destroy all civilization.” I cut more, frustrated by how hard it was to get through the locks with the inadequate blades. “We can’t have gypsy hair contaminating the mighty Arxon!”
“Brita, you don’t have to…”
But the damage was done. My eyes blurred with angry tears as I hacked away at my hair. Emotionally exhausted, I tossed the scissors in the sink on top of the mounds of my black waves and choked on a sob.
Dag’s arms encircled me from behind. Pressing his cheek against my now exposed neck, he murmured over and over, “I love you, Brita. We’ll get through this. I love you.”
His gentle rocking soothed me, and the tears streamed down without the sting of humiliation.
I studied our reflection in the mirror. Dag, so handsome despite being so pale. The tenderness in his eyes was real as was the empathy. If he saw my ugliness, it didn’t show. My beige belly protruded, and my red-rimmed eyes stood out a brighter green than usual from beneath my chin-length mop of hair. I pawed at the bangs I’d created, trying to sift them into order.
“Here, let me.” Dag took up the scissors and gestured for me to sit on the closed lavatory. Still whispering his assurances, he combed through my hair, snipping a little here and shaping a little there. When he seemed satisfied with his efforts, he lifted me to my feet and presented me to the mirror.
The woman staring back at me could almost pass for an Arxon spacey. My skin was a few shades too dark, but the hair could be tamed and flattened with the air dryers. I’d watched enough women doing it in the common washrooms.
