Resilience

by Fletcher DeLancey

  “That sounds terrifying,” Alejandra grumbled.

  “It was, at first. It helped when I realized the other side of it. While I was getting used to Alsean honesty, they were having to get used to Gaian dishonesty. They can tell each other half-truths or lies of omission, but actual lying? It’s not easy.”

  Alejandra stared at her. “Sainted Shippers. That’s why she was so shocked.”

  “Rahel?”

  “She said I could lie to myself, but I couldn’t lie to her. She’s not used to self-deception, is she? No wonder.” Her eyes reddened again. “I rejected her because she told me the truth, and she nearly died today thinking I was still angry. She wouldn’t look at me all day.”

  “And you found out that denying your heart doesn’t save you from hurting.”

  “I can’t decide if I appreciate not having to explain it, or if I hate that you already know when it’s been torture for me to put it together.” She frowned. “Both, I think.”

  “That’s fair.” Ekatya kicked off her shoes and pulled her feet up onto the chair. “Is that why you haven’t talked to her? Because you don’t know what to say?”

  “If I didn’t know what to say before, it’s worse now. Do you know how I got the Resilere to back off?”

  “No, but given how many shots of iceflame it’s taken you to get to this point, I can’t wait to find out.”

  “I had Lhyn tell them I was her mother.”

  Ekatya was glad she wasn’t trying to swallow anything. Alejandra watched with an expression that dared her to say a word.

  Then it all fell into place.

  “Brilliant.” Her admiration was probably a little too effusive, but she’d had a lot to drink and couldn’t be bothered to care. “You hit on the one word we could say that they’d trust, especially with their eggs hatching. But the sound pattern alone wouldn’t have worked. You had to convince them.”

  “I thought she was bleeding out. I thought she was slipping out of my grasp, and my only chance to save her was to reclaim what I buried and feel it. All of it, without hiding.”

  For several seconds, Ekatya stared at her in silence. Then she shook the bottle, poured two shots, and held hers up. “That’s the bravest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Alejandra let out a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. She tapped their glasses together, threw her drink back, and said, “Now I’m officially drunk. If I were brave, I’d have spoken to Rahel by now.”

  “You went from a lifetime of denial to full acceptance in about one minute. In a life-or-death crisis. That’s brave. Accept it, Wells. You have the heart of a star, and now you have all of it.”

  “Wonderful. Now I just need to know what to do with it.”

  “Want my advice?”

  Alejandra gave her a sideways look. “I don’t know. You’re drunk. How good can it be?”

  “At least half as good as if I were sober.”

  She considered it. “Might be worthwhile. Go ahead.”

  “Enjoy it. Rahel won’t judge you.” Lhyn had told her what little she knew, so she felt safe making that guarantee. “She’s known since the beginning, hasn’t she? Did she ever give the impression that it made her uncomfortable?”

  “She said . . .” Alejandra trailed off. “She’d feel uncomfortable if I was uncomfortable. Stars above, I need to apologize to her. I just don’t know how.”

  Ekatya snorted. “With your temper? You’ve got to be an expert by now.”

  “I’m reconsidering being your friend.”

  “Too late.”

  37

  Harmonies

  “Oh good, you’re awake.” Lhyn came into the treatment room with a speaker in one hand and excitement sparking off her skin. “I just got this from Commander Kenji. You won’t believe it.”

  Rahel set aside her book, already smiling in anticipation. “Anything that makes you feel like that must be good.”

  Lhyn sat on the stool, her legs folding up like a gangly insect, and immediately stood up again. “Who used this last, a child?”

  Rahel burst into laughter as Lhyn pulled the seat into a higher position. “Ouch, ouch, shekking Mother. Don’t do that.” She pressed a hand above her wound and tried to stop the chuckles. “It was Captain Serrado. Can I tell her you said that?”

  “Oh, stars.” Lhyn sat again, knees now at a normal level, and laughed as well. “Please don’t. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “All right. I’ll keep it for blackmail material later.”

  “This is how I know you used to be a spy.” Lhyn held up the speaker. “I’ll make you a deal. You never mention that to Ekatya, and I’ll play this for you.”

  “How do I know it’s a good deal when I haven’t heard it yet?”

  “You’ll just have to trust me.”

  “I do,” Rahel said seriously.

  Lhyn smiled. “Thank you. It’ll be worth it, I promise. Remember when I said the Resilere were singing? I was right. Commander Kenji jacked up the frequencies to match the Gaian hearing range. Ready?”

  “Yes!”

  Lhyn set the speaker on the bedside table and pulled out her pad. “I call it the Song of Life.”

  A chorus of pure voices sang five soaring, lingering notes. After a beat of silence, they repeated the series of notes in a different pitch. Another pause, and they repeated it in a third pitch.

  They returned to the first, but with a longer and more intricate melody. Another pause, and it was repeated in the second pitch. Then the third.

  In this pause, Lhyn lifted a finger, her eyes shining.

  The voices burst into glorious harmony, singing three complex parts that interwove into a beautiful, alien opus. Rahel listened intently, blinking away the moisture in her eyes. This was the other half of her experience, the song behind that loving voice. She had heard the intent but not the words, not the spell-binding artistry that tied it all together.

  “Incredible,” she murmured.

  “Isn’t it? I cried the first time I heard it. Just sat there and wiped tears. It’s indescribably beautiful. It makes my heart hurt in a good way.”

  “Mine too. What a way to begin your life.”

  “Doesn’t it make you wonder what other songs they have? Maybe what I thought was speech when Rez was waiting for Rez-Two wasn’t talking at all. I’ll separate that out tomorrow and see what Kenji can do with it.”

  They sat in silence then, giving their attention to the sublime opera that filled the room. Rahel closed her eyes, remembering her personal universe and how she would have followed that voice anywhere. Working together, the Resilere were as powerful as Salomen. There was a touch of the divine in this, she thought.

  An emotional signature registered on her senses, separating itself from the background and growing stronger with every heartbeat. She opened her eyes to see Dr. Wells standing in the doorway, hair down and uniform jacket missing. Her emotions felt heavy, burdened with grief and shame, but the anger was quieter.

  “It’s the song of the Resilere,” Lhyn said softly. “Sit with us and listen?”

  Without a word, Dr. Wells rolled the second stool to the plexan wall facing the lobby and sat. She leaned her head against the plexan, closed her eyes, and gradually relaxed.

  Rahel had not known how much time she spent in that wondrous universe, but she didn’t think it was as long as this song. They had been listening for at least five minutes before Dr. Wells came in and fifteen more after. She wanted to ask Lhyn about it, but was reluctant to speak aloud and break the spell that had settled on the room.

  Then the song changed. Not the harmonies, but the number of voices singing them.

  Lhyn met her eyes. “This is when Helkenn stabbed you. Two Resilere went to help you, and four more went to protect their hatchlings. They divided themselves so the song wouldn’t be disrupted.”

  “Three harmonies, four voices each,” Rahel said. “In the beginning, I mean. And now two voices each.”

  “Fascinating, i
sn’t it? Have you figured out the best part?”

  “Um, no?”

  “Three harmonies. Their hatching song needs a minimum of three singers. Their family units aren’t based on pairs. You kept saying how cooperative they were—there were twelve parents all working together to hatch these eggs. This might be four families of three each, or two families of six, or they might all be one large family.”

  “To quote you,” Rahel said, “Wow.”

  Lhyn laughed. “Yes! Makes me want to set up hydrophones all over Enkara. Are there bigger community groups? Are these twelve all there were in their group, or did that cargo crew break a bigger one? The only other group that’s been observed was thought to have between twenty and twenty-four members. Imagine this song being sung by twice as many voices. Or three times.”

  Rahel could easily picture it. Then she wondered if her imagination was affecting her hearing. There were more voices.

  Lhyn nodded at her questioning look. “The four who went after Helkenn are back in the song.”

  She could hardly believe how little time had elapsed. At this point in the song, Lhyn and Dr. Wells were already lifting her to the gurney. That they had responded so quickly—and then only after Captain Serrado and Commander Cox had already run in to assess the danger—left her awed and humbled.

  Two more voices swelled the chorus to its prior level. The crisis was over and the Resilere were fully focused on their hatchlings again.

  They listened for another ten minutes before the song changed, becoming simpler in its arrangement. The voices softened, their soaring melodies altering to something hushed and gentle.

  “The last egg hatched,” Lhyn said. “The adults who were in the crates with them are coming down the ramps. They’re all together.”

  With a final, descending series of notes that reminded Rahel of drops falling into water, the song ended.

  No one spoke.

  Dr. Wells did not open her eyes.

  “You were right,” Rahel said at last. “It was worth it. Can you put that to a video file? So I can see what was happening in the tanks? I missed so much of it.”

  “I’d be happy to.” Lhyn reached for her hand and squeezed it. “You’ll have it tomorrow. I’m going to go see how Ekatya is doing. She said something about how kastrophenol isn’t fully effective after a certain amount of alcohol.”

  “Captain Serrado got drunk?” That was a novel concept.

  Amusement hit her senses, and she saw Dr. Wells’s lips curve into a tiny smile.

  “Roaring. I think she deserved it after this week. It’s a good thing the lift is right across the corridor from our door.” She rose from the stool and made Rahel laugh by lowering the seat as far as it would go.

  “Ouch, stop! You did that on purpose.”

  “Always leave things as you found them,” Lhyn said primly. “Good night. Good night, Alejandra.”

  “Sleep well.” Dr. Wells lifted a hand and watched her go. She was far more relaxed than when she had entered, but anxiety was coming back into the foreground.

  “May I apologize now?” Rahel asked.

  Dr. Wells dropped her head, then stood up, pulled her stool over to the bed, and sat within arm’s reach. “No. I’m the one who needs to apologize.”

  “But you’re still angry with me.”

  Surprise flickered across her emotional signature like a small bolt of lightning, followed by a low rumble of understanding. “Your senses are fallible. I’ve been angry with myself, not you.”

  That wasn’t as great a relief as she would have thought. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

  Dr. Wells watched her for a long moment. “Why did you?”

  “I was tired and . . . grumpy, I guess. My head hurt and I was upset about making you come to me in the middle of a crisis. And making myself useless. I knew I shouldn’t have said it.”

  “In other words, you’ve been sitting on the truth all this time and it only came out because you were in pain and mad at yourself.” With a soft chuckle, Dr. Wells added, “Sounds like me.”

  She didn’t dare speak, too nervous about breaking this tenuous connection.

  “I envy you,” Dr. Wells said at last. “You have such a clear vision into your own heart. You’re not afraid of it. I haven’t seen mine clearly for a lifetime. I didn’t want to. I was angry last night because you forced me to look.”

  Rahel thought she’d only begun seeing her heart clearly again when Lanaril counseled her, but now wasn’t the time to say so.

  “Do you . . .” She hesitated. Ironic, that Captain Serrado would commend her courage when she could hardly get these words out for fear of the answer. “Do you still think I betrayed your trust?”

  “Did you tell anyone besides me?”

  She shook her head. “No, of course not.”

  “Then you didn’t betray me. I’m sorry, Rahel. There’s not much else I can say except that I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  The relief was so intense that it constricted her throat. She cleared it and said hoarsely, “Of course I do. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

  The words dramatically diminished Dr. Wells’s anxiety, but its remnants still hovered over her shame like oil on dirty water. “You’ve been in the medbay for hours,” she said. “The emotional pressure has to be building. Would you like a treatment, or have I ruined that for us?”

  That had been too much to hope for. Rahel could not stop the silly grin as she blurted, “I’d love it.”

  Dr. Wells’s answering smile was nearly as broad.

  The first touch of gentle fingers on her face had a shockingly strong effect. Though she screwed her eyes shut, a tear managed to escape.

  Dr. Wells silently wiped it away and went on with her treatment. Regret was strong in her touch, but the anxiety had vanished. In its place was a calm determination.

  “Thank you for saving my life,” Rahel ventured.

  “Thank you for giving me the means to do it.”

  She didn’t understand that at all. But she felt too good to ask.

  38

  On the team

  Rahel felt much better by the middle of the next day, but Dr. Wells still wouldn’t let her walk on her own two feet. It was embarrassing, having to use a chair, but at least she had the consolation of firing it out of the lift at top speed. She chuckled at the sound of Dr. Wells and Lhyn jogging behind her.

  “You should have sabotaged the wheels,” Lhyn grumbled as they hustled toward the Resilere tanks.

  “I didn’t think she’d have enough time to be obnoxious,” Dr. Wells huffed.

  “Warriors always have enough time for that.”

  Rahel slowed before reaching a point where she might frighten any Resilere who happened to be looking out this side of the nearest tank. “What a lot of complaining from two people who aren’t stuck in a chair.”

  After spending twenty-four hours cooped up in a treatment room, it was pure joy to be in this soaring space with the constant patter of rain on water and the rich, organic scent of thousands of plants. And they were the only ones here. The botanics staff were all working elsewhere in the ship until the Resilere returned home.

  She turned her chair and began moving slowly alongside the tank. A baby Resilere was attached to the side, giving her a good view of its silvery underside. Wrinkles radiated outward from a small indentation in the exact center, indicating the location of its mouth. Up on top, its eye stalks weren’t even the length of her smallest fingernail.

  “Oh, my stars,” Lhyn said. “Look at it! They’re twice as cute in real life as they are in the footage.”

  The little Resilere watched them move past, appearing intrigued but not afraid. Rahel couldn’t sense it, though she felt a background buzz of interest and contentment from the hatchlings as a group. Resilere apparently did not pop out of the egg in possession of their full empathic abilities.

  She stopped when an adult swam over and attached to the tank’s side, then rippled upward. Its arm
s spread along the top edge, flexing smoothly as its body broke the water surface. Reflective violet eyes on fully extended stalks focused on her.

  Mouse was standing at the window, looking out at the red glow staining the night sky as the ship burned. “Where have you been?” he demanded.

  “Well met, Rez,” she said. “I’m all right, thanks to you.” She projected her happiness, an emotion she didn’t think Rez could miss given how wonderful she felt. Being here and seeing for herself that it had all turned out so well was the best possible medicine.

  Her thanks had already been given yesterday, right before she blacked out.

  She leaned forward to rest both hands on the edge of the tank, smiling when Rez gently felt them with two arms. Another arm hovered in the air in front of Dr. Wells, and she saw the memory of her mother inspecting a block of metal, preparing to start her next sculpture.

  “You made quite an impression on them,” she said. “Rez recognizes you.”

  Teetering between embarrassment and wonder, Dr. Wells tentatively held out her hand and allowed contact. “Oh—it’s so soft!”

  Rez looped its arm around her wrist and halfway up her forearm, then smoothly released her.

  “What did you see?” Dr. Wells asked, watching the arm retreat from hers.

  “Um. I’ll just say that you were very convincing in your assertion of maternal rights.”

  “I’m never going to live that down, am I?” It was said lightly, but Dr. Wells kept her gaze on Rez. What she had spoken of last night, in a soft mood after their reconciliation, was unwelcome now that she was in uniform and on duty.

  “Are you kidding?” Lhyn spoke up from Rahel’s other side. “I’m hoping you’re accepting applications for adoption. If I’m ever in trouble, I want you breathing fire to get me out of it.”

  Dr. Wells flushed, but her amusement was breaking up the crystalline embarrassment. “I suppose breathing fire is one of my specialties.”