The Last Crucible

by J. D. Moyer

  “I remember you!” Cristo said, briefly looking hopeful. “But you’re just a dream as well.” He dropped Filumena’s hand.

  “If you are dreaming, what would you say to me in your dream?”

  Cristo narrowed his eyes as if suspecting a trick. “I would say that I loved you, I suppose. I’ve always loved you, even though I’m engaged to Sabina.”

  “Sabina – yes. Sabina from Bosa. That’s not a dream, is it?”

  “No,” Cristo said, looking confused. “Maybe?”

  “Sabina is real. I’m real. We were both trapped in Maro’s experiment – a fake world created by machines. The reason you recognized me in the vineyard was because you knew me from Bosa.”

  Cristo shoved several grapes into his mouth and frowned.

  “It will take some time,” Cassia said. “Don’t push too hard.”

  “Who are you?” Cristo asked with his mouth full, pointing at Cassia. But his face changed when he noticed Jana. “I know you, don’t I?”

  “We were friends,” Jana said. “We plowed my father’s field with Pinna the red ox, remember?”

  “With Antonio. Where is Antonio? Why did he abandon me?” Cristo began to silently cry, tears streaming down his cheeks.

  Filumena hugged him, causing the silver platter to clatter to the ground, scattering the remaining food. Cristo flinched at the noise but then surrendered to her embrace, nuzzling closer. “Nobody abandoned you. You were tricked by Maro, that’s all. So was I. But we’re safe now. We can return to Bosa.”

  Cristo clambered out of the hammock without releasing Filumena, nearly bringing both of them to the ground. His crying intensified; she could feel his body convulse with each sob.

  “Nobody left you,” she repeated. “Everyone wants to see you again.”

  “Is my father still alive?” Cristo asked between heaving sobs. “It was so long ago that I saw him.”

  “Not as long as you think – only a few weeks. He’s alive and misses you.”

  Filumena held him tightly, resolving that she would not be the first to pull away. All the times he had annoyed or angered her faded away. She loved him with the loyalty of shared pain. It was different than romantic love, perhaps even stronger. She would not let go.

  “Do you still want more cheese?” Aina asked.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  There was no way to announce their pending arrival, so Aina executed a low fly-by over Bosa’s town square. As the shuttle banked, Filumena caught a glimpse of the townsfolk looking up in awe. Or was it irritation? A visiting spaceship might be old news these days.

  “How did you learn to fly this craft?” Filumena asked.

  “Other cybrids taught me. I can converse with them at great distances – at least with those who have also received the Bohm upgrade.”

  “I’m glad you’re free now.”

  “And a citizen,” Aina added. “Thanks to Cassia and the other populares.”

  “I can’t wait to eat real food again,” Cristo said. “That substance they call cheese—”

  “Foul,” Filumena agreed, grimacing.

  “Space stations are not the ideal environment for cattle,” Aina said. “Even great worldships like the Michelangelo.”

  It was just the three of them. Jana-Maro was still on the Michelangelo playing the role of Maro, colluding with Cassia to tilt the balance of power in the Senate. The new Maro was just as arrogant and vain (so as not to rouse suspicions) but a tad more sensible and willing to reconcile with his political opponents. Jana had returned to the Stanford to reunite with Katja.

  Filumena was relieved to be away from both of them. As much as she loved her childhood friend, the sight of Maro’s face still triggered revulsion and fear. Even if Maro’s mind was locked away in the Crucible, she found it impossible to relax around Jana-Maro.

  And as for the ‘original’ Jana…that person had changed as well. Even though she was no longer maghiarja, the Crucible had made her wiser and seemingly older. Where had her playfulness gone? Filumena sorely missed it.

  Aina gently landed the shuttle atop a hill not far from Bosa. “Ready?” she asked.

  “Not really,” Filumena answered truthfully. “I’m not the same person as when I left – I’m worried it won’t be the same.”

  “I’m ready,” Cristo said. “I’m glad to be home.”

  “I’m looking forward to visiting Bosa,” Aina said. “My last visit to Earth went poorly. I’m hoping it will go better this time.”

  Halfway to town they were greeted by a motley collection of children, goats, and dogs, respectively yelling, bleating, and barking enthusiastically. Her cousins Ralf and Bina led the pack.

  “You’re back!” Bina yelled, rushing into Filumena’s arms.

  “Who are you?” Ralf asked, staring at Aina with fear and fascination.

  “What about me?” Cristo asked.

  “You look a little fat,” Ralf said.

  Cristo lunged at Ralf, who screamed and ran back toward town. Cristo followed, yelling playfully, as did most of the dogs. The goats had found a trove of fallen acorns beneath a nearby oak and had lost interest in the people.

  “We thought you might be dead,” Bina confessed. “I’m glad you’re not.”

  “So am I,” Filumena replied. “Now tell me everything that’s happened in Bosa while we were away.”

  ***

  Though everyone wanted to talk to her, Filumena went straight home to her mother. Zicanna was up and out of bed – a good sign – though she looked frail and her skin had a grayish cast.

  “My love!” Her mother hugged her and would not let go for several minutes. Filumena submitted to the long embrace. In the Ancestral Realism simulation she hadn’t had a mother, and Zicanna’s love comforted her in a way she had almost forgotten.

  “How are you, Mother?”

  “Well enough. Better now that you’re here.”

  “I wish you had gone to Ilium with the others. With Sperancia gone, I’m scared your condition will worsen.”

  Zicanna laughed. “I’ve lived long enough. When death takes me I’ll be ready.”

  “Don’t say that! I still need you.”

  “Then why did you leave, child?”

  Her mother wasn’t trying to be mean, but Filumena cried nonetheless. Her mother kissed her head and stroked her short hair, apologizing and trying to comfort her, but Zicanna’s words were true. Filumena had made the choice to leave, and it was only luck that her mother had not died during her absence.

  That evening Micheli hosted a great celebration, moving tables and chairs into the town square and opening dozens of bottles of wine and mirto. As guests arrived, Filumena noted that Leandro was not among them, and felt relieved. She would need to explain to Jana’s father what had happened, but she wasn’t ready for that conversation.

  At first the townsfolk were suspicious of Aina; they remembered the last time Bosa had received visitors from the Michelangelo. But Filumena explained that Aina was a friend, and nothing at all like Maro and Livia. She didn’t reveal the fact that Aina was part machine; that would only confuse them. Aina looked and acted real enough. As far as Filumena could tell she had thoughts and feelings just like any human being.

  Cristo was ecstatic to be home. Both Vissenta and Iginu wept tears of joy when they saw their son, and alternated fawning over him and yelling at him for leaving in the first place. Cristo laughed off their concerns, stuffing his face with ricotta dumplings and sausages and drinking mirto until his lips were stained purple. Sabina embraced Cristo but the two had little to say to each other, and his fiancée sat near him, awkwardly silent, for the duration of the festivities. At one point Filumena noticed Antonio and Sabina exchanging a glance. Had a new love kindled during their absence? Bina hadn’t mentioned it, but she might still be too young to notice such things. Though it was
none of Filumena’s business, it occurred to her that it might be better for all involved if Cristo’s engagement ended dramatically, with an exposed affair. As painful as that would be, it was preferable to a long, unhappy marriage.

  Mayor Busincu embraced her and kissed her on both cheeks. “Filumena, we’re overjoyed to have you back. Tell me, how did you escape from the Michelangelo? On your own? Or did that woman rescue you?” He nodded in Aina’s direction.

  “I’m glad to be back, Gregoriu. Aina helped me, yes. But mostly it was Jana who saved me.”

  “I’m not surprised. Jana has always been a capable girl. But how did she make it to the Michelangelo? How did she free you? And when will she be returning?”

  “Forgive me, Gregoriu, it’s a long story….”

  “Of course. Tell me later – tonight is for celebrating. Will you come to the next council meeting and tell us everything you’ve learned?”

  She promised Gregoriu that she would, while at the same time reflecting that he had been mayor a long time. Perhaps it was time for someone else to lead Bosa. The ideal candidate would be someone who had seen the world beyond Sardinia, one who could protect Bosa from those who might prey on its residents. Someone like Jana, for example.

  But Jana probably wasn’t coming back. And if she did return, it wouldn’t be the Jana that Gregoriu expected, the maghiarja who hosted Sperancia and the consorteria with their centuries of knowledge and wisdom.

  The Crucible had left Bosa, probably forever.

  ***

  Within a week they had more visitors: Lydia and Maggie from Ilium, with Pietro and his father, Enzo, in tow. Maggie landed the hovershuttle right in the middle of the town square, shouting at everyone to get out of the way. Filumena thought this might not be the best choice; certainly there were safer places to land the machine? But she understood when Pietro debarked with a great deal of bravado, on his own two feet, and was greeted with a thunderous cheer. The boy could walk again.

  “It will be a few more months until he’s fully recovered,” Lydia explained. “But we were able to replace his defective genes. His muscles will grow correctly now. And if Pietro ever has children, they won’t carry the disease.”

  Within minutes, Pietro, Bina, and Ralf were off to explore places that had previously been off-limits to the former. Filumena winced as the boy fell several times, but each time Bina and Ralf hauled him up and Pietro cheerfully continued forward.

  Enzo’s brow was furrowed. “Is he strong enough?” he asked Lydia.

  “He might get a few scrapes. But at this point, the more he uses his legs, the better. In a few weeks he’ll be running.”

  Enzo and his wife embraced, tears streaming down their cheeks as they watched their son until the children rounded a corner.

  “You are a miracle worker,” Filumena said to Lydia. “Is there anything you can do for my mother while you’re here?”

  “Has she reconsidered coming to Ilium? It would be much easier to treat her there. But we did bring a drug fabricator and other medical equipment this time. Is there a building we can use to set up a temporary clinic? We can stay for a few days to provide treatment for anyone who needs it.”

  “I’m sure there is – I’ll ask Gregoriu.”

  The next day Filumena attended the council meeting as a guest, as did Lydia and Maggie. Jana’s father Leandro, though he was not a council member, was also present.

  Filumena explained everything that had happened on the Michelangelo, leaving out only the details of her life in the Gallic village. To her those memories and that life were absolutely real. But no one else would understand.

  Except Cristo. Cristo had been invited to the meeting as well, but had declined, stating that he wasn’t yet ready to discuss those events. No one pressed him; it was clear the young man was not well. One moment he was boisterous and cheerful, the next sobbing uncontrollably, minutes later ravenously eating.

  Jana’s father took the news about Jana better than expected. “She will return eventually,” he insisted. “She is a responsible person and has always cared about Bosa. She will not abandon us.”

  Filumena wasn’t sure if Leandro fully understood what had happened to Jana, that there were now effectively two Janas, one in Maro’s body. She had done her best to carefully explain, but at times her words had been met with blank stares.

  “Even if she does return, she won’t be coming back as maghiarja. That means we don’t have a doctor, and are less an important teacher.”

  “Ilium can continue to provide medical support,” Lydia offered in halting Italian. “Maybe a monthly visit, or even weekly?”

  “That is generous of you,” said Gregoriu. “But we have always been independent. We don’t want to rely on your charity.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” Filumena snapped. Her rebuke came out more sharply than she’d intended, and Gregoriu looked offended, but she continued on nonetheless. “Don’t you realize what we’re up against? If Jana hadn’t been able to trick Maro, he’d have plucked us up one by one to use in his cruel experiment. There is nothing we could have done to stop him. Sperancia died trying.”

  “What’s your point?” Gregoriu asked.

  “We have to stop thinking of ourselves as an island. We’ve lived that way for centuries, but that time is over. Not only because we no longer have a maghiarja, but because we’ve been discovered. We need to make allies and accept help when offered. The people of Ilium have proven they can be trusted.”

  Gregoriu sighed. “Perhaps you are right. But our traditions are what make us what we are. Isn’t our way of life worth protecting and defending?”

  Leandro grunted in agreement. “Of course it is,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t live even better lives. Even Sperancia could not do much for Filumena’s mother. Why not let Lydia and Maggie help Zicanna?”

  It was decided that either Maggie or Lydia would return to Bosa on a monthly basis for as long as needed, and that Ilium would provide medical training for anyone in Bosa who wanted it. Filumena volunteered to go first. Though she had no idea if she would be able to master the skills involved, it would be good to learn what she could; it might help her care for her mother. And she was curious to see Ilium. She had gleaned from Lydia and Maggie that Ilium was filled with diverse, interesting people. But sensible ones, not so different than the people of Bosa.

  Even though she had made a few friends on the Michelangelo – Cassia and Aina in particular – and had been impressed by the multitude of great artworks she had seen, she had no desire to return to the worldship. While most denizens of the Michelangelo were not insane, their values and priorities were radically different than her own. The people of the Michelangelo felt foreign, even alien. Lydia and Maggie, on the other hand, were just regular folk who spoke a different language and happened to have access to vast amounts of knowledge and powerful machines.

  ***

  Lydia and Maggie returned to Ilium shortly after the council meeting, but Aina appeared to be in no particular hurry to leave Bosa. The cybrid made friends with her cheerful nature, youthful attractiveness, and eagerness to help out with whatever tasks that needed doing. Aina moved boulders, pulled up stubborn roots, and pulled the plow when the red oxen needed a rest.

  One day Aina volunteered to help Filumena with household chores and repairs that had been neglected during her absence. Filumena gratefully accepted the offer, not only because she needed the help but because it was an opportunity to explore the cybrid’s motives and intentions. Filumena didn’t suspect Aina of any wrongdoing or mischief, but she was curious as to why she was still hanging around town.

  “Are you enjoying your time in Bosa?” Filumena asked. Aina was reassembling the pump to Zicanna’s well, which had a shaky handle.

  “Yes, very much so. I’m getting to know some of the fishermen. They’re very friendly.”

  Filumena
had no doubt that they were, and knew exactly why, but at the same time was confident that Aina could take care of herself.

  “Do you miss your friends on the Michelangelo?”

  “I didn’t have any friends until recently,” Aina answered immediately, “nor did I experience life in such a way that would have made it possible to have friends.” Filumena found it disconcerting how Aina rarely paused to think before answering a question, but it occurred to her that Aina might think extremely quickly.

  “Something changed?”

  “Yes. Cassia initiated an upgrade to my neural network. Now I experience myself as a person with a past and a future. Friendship is important in life, and I have many friends. But I don’t miss them.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m in near constant conversation with them. My mentor, Ekon, for example – I speak with him more than twenty times a day. He is also a cybrid.”

  “I’ve never heard you—”

  “We speak silently, in our minds. But my thoughts are still private, unless I wish them not to be.”

  “Has anyone in Bosa asked how you can be so strong?” Filumena had not revealed Aina’s nature to anyone, and she’d heard no gossip about Aina being a machine. But then again she’d scarcely heard any gossip at all, probably because Filumena herself was the subject of much of it.

  “No, but I overheard Antonio and his father discuss that very topic. They were over twenty meters away and assumed they were speaking privately. But my auditory perception is quite sensitive.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “They said that I must be a maghiarja, like Sperancia, and that was the reason for my unusual strength.”

  Of course – it made perfect sense. The people of Bosa were already used to having a strongwoman in their midst. It was as natural to them as fish in the sea.

  A few days later Zorzi and Nevio were thrown out of Micheli’s for fighting. Filumena heard the story from Bina, who had witnessed the latter half of the altercation in the town square.