Zoe`s Tale вбиос-4

by John Scalzi

  On the day Enzo died he talked to Zoë, joked with her about her missing the dinner she was supposed to have with his family, and promised to send her a poem he had written for her. Then he told her he loved her and heard her tell him she loved him. Then he sent her the poem and sat down with his family to dinner. When the emergency alert came, the Gugino family, father Bruno, mother Natalie, daughters Maria and Katherina, and son Enzo, went together into the attack shelter Bruno and Enzo had made just a week before, and sat together close, holding each other and waiting for the "all clear."

  On the day Enzo died he knew he was loved. He knew he was loved by his mother and father who, like everyone knew, never stopped loving each other until the very moment they died. Their love for each other became their love for him, and for their daughters. He knew he was loved by his sisters, who he cared for when they were small, and when he was small. He knew he was loved by his best friend, who he never stopped getting out of trouble, and who he never stopped getting into trouble with. And he knew he was loved by Zoë—by me—who he called his love and who said the words back to him.

  Enzo lived a life of love, from the moment he was born until the moment he died. So many people go through life without love. Wanting love. Hoping for love. Hungering for more of it than they have. Missing love when it was gone. Enzo never had to go through that. Would never have to.

  All he knew all his life was love.

  I have to think it was enough.

  It would have to be, now.

  * * *

  I spent the day with Gretchen and Magdy and all of Enzo's friends, of whom there were so many, crying and laughing and remembering him, and then at some point I couldn't take any more because everyone had begun to treat me like Enzo's widow and though in a way I felt like I was, I didn't want to have to share that with anyone. It was mine and I wanted to be greedy for it for just a little while. Gretchen saw I had reached some sort of breaking point, and walked me back to her room and told me to get some rest, and that she'd check on me later. Then she gave me a fierce hug, kissed me on the temple and told me she loved me and closed the door behind me. I lay there in Gretchen's bed and tried not to think and did a pretty good job of it until I remembered Enzo's poem, waiting for me in my mail queue.

  Gretchen had put my PDA on her desk and I walked over, took the PDA and sat back down on the bed, and pulled up my mail queue and saw the mail from Enzo. I reached to press the screen to retrieve it and then called up the directory instead. I found the folder titled "Enzo Dodgeball" and opened it and started playing the files, watching as Enzo flailed his way around the dodgeball court, taking hits to the face and tumbling to the ground with unbelievable comic timing. I watched until I laughed so hard that I could barely see, and had to put the PDA down for a minute to concentrate on the simple act of breathing in and out.

  When I had mastered that again, I picked up the PDA, called up the mail queue, and opened the mail from Enzo.

  * * *

  Zoë:

  Here you are. You'll have to imagine the arm waving for now. But the live show is coming! That is, after we have pie. Mmmm . . . pie.

  BELONG

  You said I belong to you

  And I agree

  But the quality of that belonging

  Is a question of some importance.

  I do not belong to you

  Like a purchase

  Something ordered and sold

  And delivered in a box

  To be put up and shown off

  To friends and admirers.

  I would not belong to you that way

  And I know you would not have me so.

  I will tell you how I belong to you.

  I belong to you like a ring on a finger

  A symbol of something eternal.

  I belong to you like a heart in a chest

  Beating in time to another heart.

  I belong to you like a word on the air

  Sending love to your ear.

  I belong to you like a kiss on your lips

  Put there by me, in the hope of more to come.

  And most of all I belong to you

  Because in where I hold my hopes

  I hold the hope that you belong to me.

  It is a hope I unfold for you now like a gift.

  Belong to me like a ring

  And a heart

  And a word

  And a kiss

  And like a hope held close.

  I will belong to you like all these things

  And also something more

  Something we will discover between us

  And will belong to us alone.

  You said I belong to you

  And I agree.

  Tell me you belong to me, too.

  I wait for your word

  And hope for your kiss.

  Love you.

  Enzo.

  I love you, too, Enzo. I love you.

  I miss you.

  TWENTY-ONE

  The next morning I found out Dad was under arrest.

  "It's not exactly arrest," Dad said at our kitchen table, having his morning coffee. "I've been relieved of my position as colony leader and have to travel back to Phoenix Station for an inquiry. So it's more like a trial. And if that goes badly then I'll be arrested."

  "Is it going to go badly?" I asked.

  "Probably," Dad said. "They don't usually have an inquiry if they don't know how it's going to turn out, and if it was going to turn out well, they wouldn't bother to have it." He sipped his coffee.

  "What did you do?" I asked. I had my own coffee, loaded up with cream and sugar, which was sitting ignored in front of me. I was still in shock about Enzo, and this really wasn't helping.

  "I tried to talk General Gau out of walking into the trap we set for him and his fleet," Dad said. "When we met I asked him not to call his fleet. Begged him not to, actually. It was against my orders. I was told to engage in 'nonessential conversation' with him. As if you can have nonessential conversation with someone who is planning to take over your colony, and whose entire fleet you're about to blow up."

  "Why did you do it?" I asked. "Why did you try to give General Gau an out?"

  "I don't know," Dad said. "Probably because I didn't want the blood of all those crews on my hands."

  "You weren't the one who set off the bombs," I said.

  "I don't think that matters, do you?" Dad said. He set down his cup. "I was still part of the plan. I was still an active participant. I still bear some responsibility. I wanted to know that at the very least I tried in some small way to avoid so much bloodshed. I guess I was just hoping there might be a way to do things other than the way that ends up with everyone getting killed."

  I got up out of my chair and gave my dad a big hug. He took it, and then looked at me, a little surprised, when I sat back down. "Thank you," he said. "I'd like to know what that was about."

  "It was me being happy that we think alike," I said. "I can tell we're related, even if it's not biologically."

  "I don't think anyone would doubt we think alike, dear," Dad said. "Although given that I'm about to get royally shafted by the Colonial Union, I'm not sure it's such a good thing for you."

  "I think it is," I said.

  "And biology or not, I think we're both smart enough to figure out that things are not going well for anyone," Dad said. "This is a real big mess, nor are we out of it."

  "Amen," I said.

  "How are you, sweetheart?" Dad asked. "Are you going to be okay?"

  I opened my mouth to say something and closed it again. "I think right now I want to talk about anything else in the world besides how I'm doing," I said, finally.

  "All right," Dad said. He started talking about himself then, not because he was an egotist but because he knew listening to him would help me take my mind off my own worries. I listened to him talk on without worrying too much about what he said.

  * * *

  Dad left on the supply ship San Joaquin th
e next day, with Manfred Trujillo and a couple other colonists who were going as representatives of Roanoke, on political and cultural business. That was their cover, anyway. What they were really doing, or so Jane had told me, was trying to find out anything about what was going on in the universe involving Roanoke and who had attacked us. It would take a week for Dad and the others to reach Phoenix Station; they'd spend a day or so there and then it would take another week for them to return. Which is to say, it'd take another week for everyone but Dad to return; if Dad's inquiry went against him, he wouldn't be coming back.

  We tried not to think about that.

  * * *

  Three days later most of the colony converged on the Gugino homestead and said good-bye to Bruno and Natalie, Maria, Katherina, and Enzo. They were buried where they had died; Jane and others had removed the missile debris that had fallen on them, reshaped the area with new soil, and set new sod on top. A marker was placed to note the family. At some point in the future, there might be another, larger marker, but for now it was small and simple: the family name, the name of the members, and their dates. It reminded me of my own family marker, where my biological mother lay. For some reason I found this a little bit comforting.

  Magdy's father, who had been Bruno Gugino's closest friend, spoke warmly about the whole family. A group of singers came and sang two of Natalie's favorite hymns from Zhong Guo. Magdy spoke, briefly and with difficulty about his best friend. When he sat back down, Gretchen was there to hold him while he sobbed. Finally we all stood and some prayed and others stood silently, with their heads bowed, thinking about missing friends and loved ones. Then people left, until it was just me and Gretchen and Magdy, standing silently by the marker.

  "He loved you, you know," Magdy said to me, suddenly.

  "I know," I said.

  "No," Magdy said, and I saw how he was trying to get across to me that he wasn't just making comforting words. "I'm not talking about how we say we love something, or love people we just like. He really loved you, Zoë. He was ready to spend his whole life with you. I wish I could make you believe this."

  I took out my PDA, opened it to Enzo's poem, and showed it to Magdy. "I believe it," I said.

  Magdy read the poem, nodded. Then he handed the PDA back to me. "I'm glad," he said. "I'm glad he sent that to you. I used to make fun of him because he wrote you those poems. I told him that he was just being a goof." I smiled at that. "But now I'm glad he didn't listen to me. I'm glad he sent them. Because now you know. You know how much he loved you."

  Magdy broke down as he tried to finish that sentence. I came up to him and held him and let him cry.

  "He loved you too, Magdy," I said to him. "As much as me. As much as anyone. You were his best friend."

  "I loved him too," Magdy said. "He was my brother. I mean, not my real brother . . ." He started to get a look on his face; he was annoyed with himself that he wasn't expressing himself like he wanted.

  "No, Magdy," I said. "You were his real brother. In every way that matters, you were his brother. He knew you thought of him that way. And he loved you for it."

  "I'm sorry, Zoë," Magdy said, and looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry I always gave you and Enzo a hard time. I'm sorry."

  "Hey," I said, gently. "Stop that. You were supposed to give us a hard time, Magdy. Giving people a hard time is what you do. Ask Gretchen."

  "It's true," Gretchen said, not unkindly. "It really is."

  "Enzo thought of you as his brother," I said. "You're my brother too. You have been all this time. I love you, Magdy."

  "I love you too, Zoë," Magdy said quietly, and then looked straight at me. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome." I gave him another hug. "Just remember that as your new family member I'm now entitled to give you all sorts of crap."

  "I can't wait," Magdy said, and then turned to Gretchen. "Does this make you my sister too?"

  "Considering our history, you better hope not," Gretchen said. Magdy laughed at that, which was a good sign, then gave me a peck on a cheek, gave Gretchen a hug, and then walked from the grave of his friend and brother.

  "Do you think he's going to be okay?" I asked Gretchen, as we watched him go.

  "No," Gretchen said. "Not for a long time. I know you loved Enzo, Zoë, I really do, and I don't want this to sound like I'm trying to undercut that. But Enzo and Magdy were two halves of the same whole." She nodded to Magdy. "You lost someone you love. He's lost part of himself. I don't know if he's going to get over that."

  "You can help him," I said.

  "Maybe," Gretchen said. "But think about what you're asking me to do."

  I laughed. It's why I loved Gretchen. She was the smartest girl I ever knew, and smart enough to know that being smart had its own repercussions. She could help Magdy, all right, by becoming part of what he was missing. But it meant her being that, one way or another, for the rest of their lives. She would do it, because when it came down to it she really did love Magdy. But she was right to worry about what it meant for her.

  "Anyway," Gretchen said, "I'm not done helping someone else."

  I snapped out of my thoughts at that. "Oh," I said. "Well. You know. I'm okay."

  "I know," Gretchen said. "I also know you lie horribly."

  "I can't fool you," I said.

  "No," Gretchen said. "Because what Enzo was to Magdy, I am to you."

  I hugged her. "I know," I said.

  "Good," Gretchen said. "Whenever you forget, I'll remind you."

  "Okay," I said. We unhugged and Gretchen left me alone with Enzo and his family, and I sat with them for a long time.

  * * *

  Four days later, a note from Dad from a skip drone from Phoenix Station.

  A miracle, it said. I'm not headed for prison. We are heading back on the next supply ship. Tell Hickory and Dickory that I will need to speak to them when I return. Love you.

  There was another note for Jane, but she didn't tell me what was in it.

  "Why would Dad want to talk to you?" I asked Hickory.

  "We don't know," Hickory said. "The last time he and I spoke of anything of any importance was the day—I am sorry—that your friend Enzo died. Some time ago, before we left Huckleberry, I had mentioned to Major Perry that the Obin government and the Obin people stood ready to assist you and your family here on Roanoke should you need our assistance. Major Perry reminded me of that conversation and asked me if the offer still stood. I told him that at the time I believed it did."

  "You think Dad is going to ask for your help?" I asked.

  "I do not know," Hickory said. "And since I last spoke to Major Perry circumstances have changed."

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "Dickory and I have finally received detailed updated information from our government, up to and including its analysis of the Colonial Union's attack on the Conclave fleet," Hickory said. "The most important piece of news is that we have been informed that shortly after the Magellan disappeared, the Colonial Union came to the Obin government and asked it not to search for the Roanoke colony, nor to offer it assistance if it were to be located by the Conclave or any other race."

  "They knew you would come looking for me," I said.

  "Yes," Hickory said.

  "But why would they tell you not to help us?" I asked.

  "Because it would interfere with the Colonial Union's own plans to lure the Conclave fleet to Roanoke," Hickory said.

  "That's happened," I said. "That's done. The Obin can help us now," I said.

  "The Colonial Union has asked us to continue not to offer aid or assistance to Roanoke," Hickory said.

  "That makes no sense," I said.

  "We are inclined to agree," Hickory said.

  "But that means that you can't even help me," I said.

  "There is a difference between you and the colony of Roanoke," Hickory said. "The Colonial Union cannot ask us not to protect or assist you. It would violate the treaty between our peoples, and the Colonial Union wo
uld not want to do that, especially now. But the Colonial Union may choose to interpret the treaty narrowly and has. Our treaty concerns you, Zoë. To a much lesser extent it concerns your family, meaning Major Perry and Lieutenant Sagan. It does not concern Roanoke colony at all."

  "It does when I live here," I said. "This colony is of a great deal of concern to me. Its people are of a great deal of concern to me. Everybody I care about in the whole universe is here. Roanoke matters to me. It should matter to you."

  "We did not say it did not matter to us," Hickory said, and I heard something in its voice I had never heard before: reproach. "Nor do we suggest it does not matter to you, for many reasons. We are telling you how the Colonial Union is asking the Obin government to view its rights under treaty. And we are telling you that our government, for its own reasons, has agreed."

  "So if my dad asks for your help, you will tell him no," I said.

  "We will tell him that so long as Roanoke is a Colonial Union world, we are unable to offer help."

  "So, no," I said.

  "Yes," Hickory said. "We are sorry, Zoë."

  "I want you to give me the information your government has given you," I said.

  "We will do so," Hickory said. "But it is in our native language and file formatting, and will take a considerable amount of time for your PDA to translate."

  "I don't care," I said.

  "As you wish," Hickory said.

  Not too long after that I stared at the screen of my PDA and ground my teeth together as it slowly plodded through file transformations and translations. I realized it would be easier just to ask Hickory and Dickory about it all, but I wanted to see it all with my own eyes. However long it took.