The Triad

by Sarah Ettritch

  Cynthia gasped. “Did you, Kevin?”

  He swallowed. “No.”

  She nodded. “Looking someone in the eye isn’t the same as sending letters.”

  Her voice was reproachful, but he read the sympathy in her eyes. When Nolan had proposed the appointment with Adams, Kevin had quickly rejected the idea. That would have been the end of it, if not for Gwen’s distress over his behaviour at the awards ceremony and the effect Adams—and everything else dredged up by the triad announcement—was having on their relationship.

  He’d arrived at Nolan’s office skeptical that any good would come of the meeting with Adams. The appointment had initially gone exactly as he’d expected. The sight of Adams had enraged him; his hands had balled into fists and he’d wanted to lash out, pound into her, make her acknowledge that her family had devastated his—until he saw the hurt and bewildered twelve-year-old girl who hunched her shoulders, spoke in a trembling voice, and cried out for answers.

  When Middleton had demanded that he look Adams in the eye and tell her she should be executed, all he could think about was the girl who’d had her parents ripped away from her, through no fault of her own. But could he let it go, read announcements about the Thompson triad without seething over how Peter Adams had taken advantage of Brenda? What if Adams had children? What if she moved past the Incident and found happiness?

  He was torn between his desire to eradicate every trace of Peter Adams, and his growing understanding of how the Incident had affected Adams’ daughter. All he knew for sure was that he wanted to talk to Adams—Jayne—again.

  *****

  As Lesley walked from her aviacraft to the house, she listened to the message Mo had left earlier that afternoon: Les, it’s me. Do you want to come over tonight? We’ll have the house to ourselves. I know you have a test tomorrow—Lesley could hear the sigh in Mo’s voice—but it feels like we haven’t seen each other for ages. You don’t have to study for hours on end. Study for an hour and then come over, okay? She winced at Mo’s pleading tone. Oh, and we should see Jayne on your day off. We haven’t seen her together since we had supper after the counselling appointment. Beep me later! Mo would bring up Jayne.

  She blew out some air and pondered what to do. That was the third time she’d listened to the message, hoping a clear winner would emerge from the war between the part of her that wanted to follow Laura’s advice about talking to Mo, and the part that wanted to go on as if Mo’s feelings for Jayne didn’t exist. While the battle raged, she’d avoided Mo, feeling paralyzed. Something had to give.

  Logic dictated that she talk to Mo. Deep down, she knew she didn’t have a choice, that Mo’s feelings for Jayne would eventually come between them no matter what she did—it was already happening. But raising the subject with Mo could be disastrous. Would their relationship survive the conversation and remain strong, or would it be irreversibly weakened? Did Lesley want it to survive? Mo had feelings for someone else!

  And Lesley still loved her. All these years, Mo had never fully trusted her, but every time Lesley had insisted that she’d never leave, that she’d love Mo no matter what, she’d meant it. Only the Chosen Council could ever have torn them apart. But Lesley had never imagined the situation she was in now—Mo potentially having a relationship with someone else. She’d just known that her love for Mo would never die. So here she was, looking at being a third wheel as Mo’s feelings for Jayne deepened. What did that say about her? Did it make her pathetic? Should she go over to Mo’s tonight, lay down the rules, tell her to stick to their arrangement? Or else...what?

  Jayne wasn’t a passing fancy, some woman up on 72 who’d caught Mo’s eye and was only a crush that would eventually burn itself out. She was Mo’s Chosen—their Chosen. They would be together for the rest of their lives. Demanding that Mo resist her feelings for Jayne would only hurt her relationship with Lesley. Not only would Mo resent her, but Lesley would feel like a tyrant. But what was the alternative—telling Mo to go ahead and have a relationship with Jayne? Could Lesley honestly read a book downstairs while they were carrying on upstairs? Would she feel the same when Mo touched her? Would she believe it when—if—Mo said she loved her? If Lesley did what the Way expected and told Mo that it was all right to honour her other Chosen in every sense of the word, how could their relationship survive? Would she survive? Lesley would never violate the Way, but she didn’t feel alive in this grey world in which she was no longer special to Mo. She felt like a walking shell, as she had during their separation, but with no hope for a reprieve.

  Knowing she had to reach a decision, Lesley paced outside the house. She appeared to have two choices: talk to Mo, or avoid her. Seeing her without bringing up her feelings for Jayne couldn’t go on for long. Laura was right; it would eat away at Lesley until it came out in a horribly emotional way that would do more harm than good. If she went over tonight and didn’t talk to Mo, it would only hang over them, with Mo unwittingly hurting Lesley every time she showed concern for Jayne. Lesley had to believe that they stood a better chance of weathering the coming storm if they were open and honest with each other.

  She beeped Mo.

  “Hey, I hope you’re beeping to tell me you’re coming over,” Mo said.

  “I am.”

  “Good! Bring your flute. My audition’s next week. I’ve already practised today, but I wouldn’t mind playing with you for good measure.”

  “Uh, not tonight. I thought it would be nice to spend a quiet night together, and maybe talk. We haven’t talked—really talked—in a while. You said everyone else will be out, right?”

  “Yep.” Mo paused. “I hope you’ll stay over.”

  “I don’t know. I’ll see how I feel.” It would depend on how their conversation went. “I have to be up for my course.”

  Mo groaned. “I hope you’re busier with this course than you will be when you’re a commander.”

  “I don’t know, the commanders I know are pretty busy.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing I have another Chosen, then.”

  Mo’s tone was light. She’d clearly meant her words as a joke, but Lesley felt as if she’d just been knifed in the gut. “I’ll be over around 20:00. I’ll see you later.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Lesley closed her eyes. “Me too.”

  They disconnected. Lesley slid her comm unit back into its holder, but didn’t go inside. She walked around the house, into the back garden, and onto one of the paths. There, hidden by the trees, she dabbed at her eyes when tears blurred the path. Talking to Mo was the right thing to do, but it felt like the beginning of the end of everything she held dear.

  *****

  Lesley almost hit Michael when she swung open the Middletons’ front door. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were there.”

  “I’m just on my way out.” He turned to Mo, who was standing behind him. “Don’t forget to tell her about the supper next week.”

  “I will,” Mo said, rolling her eyes. “Why’s it so important that we all be there?”

  “Because we haven’t eaten together as a family since...” Michael screwed up his face, then brightened. “Since your notification lunch!”

  Mo snorted. “And what a great meal that was.” She frowned. “Is Andrew inviting his girlfriend?”

  “He asked if he could, but I told him no. I only want family there. Anyway, I have to go.” He nodded to Lesley and slipped out the still-open door. She closed it.

  Mo stared after him. “He wants us all here for supper next Thursday—even Jayne! He’s catering it! It’ll be served around 19:00, so even if you have to study, you should—” Her comm unit beeped. “Who’s that?” she mumbled as she pulled the unit from its holder.

  “Archer here. Mo, I hate to ask you this, but is there any chance that you can do five morning shifts, starting tomorrow at 10:00?”

  “Five?” She glanced at Lesley. “I don’t think so. It’s too short notice, and I don’t want to be away for four nigh
ts right now.”

  Archer sighed. “That’s what everyone’s saying.”

  “You could order someone to do them,” Mo pointed out. “Including me.”

  “I want to avoid that, if I can. I still have more supply pilots I can try. Thanks anyway.”

  They disconnected. “Too short notice,” Mo repeated. “And I’d have to be up too early to get there in time, or go tonight, and I don’t want to do that.” She reached for Lesley.

  Lesley quickly hugged her, so she wouldn’t have to force a smile. “What were you saying about supper next week?”

  “Just that you should have time to study afterward,” Mo said into Lesley’s shoulder. “You can even do it here. Jayne can keep me company.”

  It was now or never. Lesley drew back. “Actually, I want to talk to you about Jayne.”

  Mo looked up. “What about her?”

  “Let’s sit down.” She followed Mo into the living room, sat next to her on the sofa and, after hesitating a beat, took her hand. How to open this conversation? Not wanting to give herself an excuse to put it off, she’d deliberately not rehearsed what she’d say. “Do you remember what I said after our notifications, that Jayne probably wasn’t our Chosen? That the triad could be a sham?”

  “You’re not going to bring up CT134 again, are you?” Mo’s voice was hushed.

  “No. But I was wrong. She is our Chosen. I guess it was my way of coping with it, until I could face it.”

  “I was never comfortable with that. If our Joining won’t be real, what would that imply about the rest?”

  “I know. And I know how weak in the Way it was to—”

  Mo shook her head. “No! You said it yourself, it was your way of coping. Come on, Les. We were both in shock after our notifications. We weren’t thinking straight. We told ourselves whatever we needed to believe to understand it.”

  Lesley swallowed. “Does that include our arrangement with Jayne?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s our Chosen.”

  Mo remained silent. Her tight face and intent stare told Lesley to tread carefully. How could she get Mo to open up about her feelings toward Jayne without bluntly asking about them? She squeezed Mo’s fingers. “Since the three of us are Chosens to each other, I thought we should talk about whether our arrangement is realistic, just to see how we’re both feeling about it, now that we know Jayne a little better. Perhaps we’ll decide that our arrangement still makes sense.” Lesley would love that to be true, but it would be weak in the Way for them to refuse to even consider the possibility that Jayne might become more than a friend—especially since, for Mo, she already was.

  But Lesley needed time to come to grips with Mo’s feelings for Jayne. She needed reassurance. Had Mo’s feelings for her changed? Could Lesley hold it together and at least tolerate a relationship between Mo and Jayne, or would she be utterly despondent and die inside every time she was in a room with them? The stability of the triad had to be their primary concern, and agreeing to take things slowly and not act on any feelings until they—Lesley—had time to adjust might be the best way to ensure it. But they couldn’t talk about that, or anything related to it, until Mo acknowledged her feelings for Jayne. “But we should talk about how—and I’m not saying this will happen—but how we’ll deal with it if one of us starts to—”

  Mo yanked her hand from Lesley’s and leaped to her feet. “I knew it!” she screamed. “I knew you’d do this! From the moment we found out we’re in a triad, I knew this would happen!”

  “Nothing’s happening.” Lesley slowly rose and motioned for Mo to calm down. “I just thought—”

  “You just thought you’d have a relationship with Jayne!” Mo burst into tears. “I knew this would happen,” she wailed. “I knew it...” She doubled over.

  Horrified, Lesley put her arm around Mo and drew her close. “I don’t want a relationship with Jayne. I just want to talk—”

  Mo pushed her away and backpedalled. “You didn’t think Jayne was our Chosen. Now you do, and you want to talk about our arrangement. What do you think I am, stupid? Don’t treat me like a flaming idiot!”

  Lesley heaved a sigh. “I don’t want to have a relationship with Jayne! But...since she is our Chosen, it’s possible that one of us might develop feelings for her. It doesn’t have to be me.” She hesitated. “It could be you.” Cringing, Lesley stared at Mo. No matter how much she suspected Mo had feelings for Jayne, it would devastate her to hear Mo confirm those feelings.

  Mo pointed a trembling finger at her. “Don’t you dare put this on me,” she said firmly and quietly. Then she shouted so loudly, Lesley’s ears rang. “Don’t you dare!”

  The anger—hate?—in Mo’s eyes brought tears to Lesley’s. She stepped toward her. “Mo—”

  Mo curtly shook her head and reached for her comm unit. Lesley opened her mouth to ask what she was doing, but Mo motioned for silence by slicing her hand across her neck. She punched in a code. “It’s Mo. Do you still need someone to do those shifts?”

  “I haven’t found anyone yet,” Archer said, sounding hopeful.

  Lesley vigorously shook her head, but Mo ignored her. “I’ve changed my mind. Arrange quarters for me. I’ll be arriving tonight.”

  “Great! Thanks, Mo!”

  “What are you doing?” Lesley cried when Mo disconnected. “We need to talk!”

  Mo whirled and marched into the hallway.

  “We need to talk!” Lesley repeated, chasing after her. She watched in disbelief as Mo grabbed her cloak from its hook and flung it over her arm. “Mo! Don’t do this.”

  Mo opened the front door, then turned to Lesley. “Have fun with Jayne.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong!”

  “I am sick of your lies! I’ll tell you what I had wrong. You! Wanting you as my Chosen.” Mo lowered her head and muttered under her breath, then looked up. “During our separation, I couldn’t imagine my life without you. I pined after you. I felt...” Her lips trembled. She clenched her free hand and held it against her heart. “I felt as if I couldn’t survive without you, that I’d never be happy. Then it turned out we were Chosens, and even with the triad, I couldn’t have been happier.” She dropped her hand to her side and yelled, making Lesley jump. “Especially since you seemed as eager to shut Jayne out as I was! But that’s all changed now, hasn’t it, Les?” She sneered. “You don’t care about me. All you’ll do is hurt me. You’ll hurt, hurt, hurt me! I was hoping for the wrong thing. I should have hoped I’d never see you again.”

  “You don’t mean that,” Lesley whispered, barely able to see Mo through her tears. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. We belong together. Don’t we?”

  Mo stared at her for a moment, then turned away and stepped through the doorway. The door slammed behind her.

  Intending to go after her, Lesley reached for the door’s handle, but her knees buckled the moment her fingers touched it. Mo’s feelings for Jayne, Mo’s spiteful words, the seemingly impossible task of honouring the Way without losing her sanity and Mo’s love—it finally proved too much for her. She slid to the floor and wept, her sobs echoing around the empty hall.

  CROSSROADS

  Mo kept her head down as she strode through 72’s waiting area and into the elevator. Nobody had sat next to her on the shuttle, but she wasn’t sure if her demeanour or the abundance of empty seats had ensured her solitude. She felt sick, mortified, and frightened. Les’s shocked face taunted her again; Mo cringed over how much the harsh words she’d uttered at their parting must have hurt her. She hadn’t meant them, and it hadn’t taken her long to regret them, or her decision to run away to 72 at the worst possible moment. What a mess!

  She groaned aloud when the elevator doors opened on Deck 6 to reveal Ann loitering in the corridor. “Archer told me you’re filling in for Ian,” Ann said. “D6-242, if you’re wondering. I was just about to head up to the waiting area. Want to play some cards?”

  Having checked Archer’s d
ispatch on the shuttle, Mo already knew the location of her quarters. She hoped she looked all right. She hadn’t cried on the way to 72, but her head throbbed. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” she mumbled, hoping to dissuade Ann from following her.

  But Ann tailed her. “It’s only 21:45. You’re usually good until about 23:30.” Her voice sounded shrill. “Why are you walking so fast? Are you okay? You’re not in uniform! Where’s your bag?”

  Mo winced and grabbed the side of her head with her left hand. “Will you please be quiet?” When they reached quarters D6-242, she shifted her cloak to her left arm and punched the Open button. “Look, I’m tired, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “You sure you’re okay?” Ann stepped over the threshold after her.

  Mo couldn’t take it anymore. She flung her cloak across the room. “I’m fine!” she yelled. “I’m flaming fine! Now will you please leave me alone! Just leave me...” Tears welled in her eyes. “Leave me alone,” she managed to whisper, then sank onto the sofa and buried her head in her hands.

  Her relief at hearing the door swoosh shut was short-lived. Footsteps approached her. “What’s going on?” Ann asked.

  Mo raised her head. Ann stood in front of her, her hands on her hips. “If I say ‘nothing,’ will you leave?” Mo asked. Oh, what’s the point? “Les and I had a fight. I won’t be surprised if she never wants to see me again.” Not that Les had the choice.

  “Is that why you changed your mind about doing the shifts? Archer said you originally told him no.”

  Mo nodded.

  “So you and Lesley had a falling out, and you decided to handle it by running away to 72, leaving her down on the planet with Jayne when she’s mad at you.” Ann snorted. “I wouldn’t hold your breath for the Genius of the Year award.”