Memory of Morning

by Susan Sizemore

  "That's the way it's supposed to be," I said. I sounded like a stubborn child told that moon fairies don't fly on the solstice.

  Dr. Heron showed no inclination to argue with me. His whole manner radiated that he thought I was being naive and romantic. Which I was - but I had served on the Moonrunner with Samel Swan.

  He said, "If you do opt for ship duty you should get married first - leave your heart at home with someone else besides your captain when you go off to sea. That's what I intend to do."

  It annoyed me that what he said made sense. But I suspect Dr. Danil Heron could be annoying simply wishing someone good morning.

  He handed me one of the journals from the stack on the table between us. "Read this."

  I did. And put aside any speculation about what to do once I had my certification. One step at a time, I told myself.

  Dr. Heron looked up when I got up to leave after only an hour's study. "I have an errand in town," I answered his sharp look.

  He closed his notebook and put away his pen. "I will come with you. We can discuss Dr. Ham's journal from '07 as we walk."

  I smiled as he rose on his long legs. Heron was a good name for him.

  "Of course you want only to continue our work. For a moment I thought your offer to walk with me was a sign of gentlemanly behavior."

  "I have no patience for any old-fashioned behavior. All those rules and rituals are meant to keep us all in our place."

  I didn't respond that I'd always believed rules of polite behavior helped keep us a civil society. Discussing medicine was a far more interesting topic for us as we walked through warm spring sunlight and past budding trees and fresh young flowers on our way from the War Casualties Home into the shopping district of Seyemouth.

  "A jewelry shop? What do you want with a jeweler?" Dr. Heron reacted with surprise when I stopped in front of a shop door. I believe he'd become so engrossed in conversation he'd forgotten everything else.

  "I told you I had an errand."

  He sneered. "You came to purchase a bauble?"

  "Not exactly." I opened the door and went in to the sound of a tingling bell. I was almost surprised when he followed me.

  I'd certainly grown used to close quarters on shipboard, but this tiny room full of glass cases with their glittering contents gave me a claustrophobic feeling. It did not help that Dr. Heron's tall form was crowded so close to me. He bumped up against me as we reached the counter, and he didn't step back.

  "You are the most unconventional man I have ever met," I told him.

  "Thank you."

  I'm not sure if he knew I hadn't meant the words as a compliment or not, but I let the conversation go as the man behind the counter approached.

  "Welcome to Smith and Chandler. I am Mr. Smith. What may I show you?"

  "There is something I wish to show you," I answered.

  He waited patiently, if a bit suspiciously, while I took out a brown and blue plaid cloth bundle wrapped in sewing thread and put it on the counter between us.

  "You design and make jewelry, I'm told," I said.

  The man looked me over, judging my value as a customer by my clothing. I don't think he was quite sure what to make of my sturdy shoes, but the silver filigree ear bobs in my earlobes seemed to decide him on my worthiness. He nodded. "I do accept commissions, Miss...?"

  "Doctor Cliff. This is Dr. Heron," I added for politeness sake. The men exchanged nods while I carefully unwrapped my prize.

  When the lovely, plump pear of pearl was revealed Mr. Smith looked at it, looked at me, looked back at the gem. When he glanced at me again his eyes were bright and he was smiling. "May I?" he asked.

  "Please."

  Heron put his hand on my shoulder. The familiarity was totally shocking. I was already aware of his closeness. "Sir!" I protested.

  "What are you going to do with that thing?" he asked, accused rather. "Do you know how valuable that is? Are you going to flaunt it on your person when you could set up your own practice by selling it?"

  I could have sputtered indignantly about his minding his manners and his own business, but I was rather pleased at discovering that the odd Dr. Heron had a practical side. I did slip out from under his hand.

  "I might well sell the pearl some day," I told him. Or pass it on as a family legacy, or do one of the several other things I had considered. But I didn't think so. "For now I plan to, as you say, flaunt it. I'm going to Loudon for the Season and I intend to show my war prize off." I turned back to Mr. Smith. "Can you fashion a simple setting?"

  "A pearl teardrop hanging on a golden chain, perhaps?" he asked.

  "That is exactly the sort of thing I have in mind."

  "Something so lovely doe not need any other adornment. I will make a few sketches of designs. Can you come back to see them tomorrow?"

  I agreed, and wrote a direction to my family's bank for the deposit. Then I rewrapped my pearl and took it with me. Dr. Heron went with me as well. I tried bidding him farewell outside Smith and Chandler, but he insisted on hailing down and sharing a horsecab. He was very hard to get rid of today, but I finally managed to leave him outside the gates of Lilac House.

  Back among my family I found out that there was still no word of Alix's ship arriving in port, that Belladem had agreed to perform at a charity benefit for Seyemouth's main temple, and that father and Mr. Cliff had been called home to Avan on university business. I outlined my day, and Star demanded a great deal of attention. We are a busy family. Have I mentioned that both my parents are university professors? They met at school and stayed on to teach and do research in their chosen fields of natural sciences and theology.

  I welcomed Star's affection and closeness curled in my lap. I was exhausted and welcomed the time when Bell, Star, and I went up to our bedroom.

  "I think you are homesick for your ship," Bell said when we'd climbed under the covers.

  I turned on my side to look at her in the moonslight coming in from the open window. After a bit of thought, I said, "I suppose I am. Have I been sighing and pining? I hadn't noticed."

  "A bit. But then, I'm sighing and pining for Dwie. I love being with you, third twin, but you aren't the person I want to be sharing a bed with."

  There was no reason for me to be embarrassed by this, but I was. "I see. You and he - are - well, of course you are - I hadn't thought about that aspect of being - "

  She laughed, and gave my cheek the most gentle of pats. "Don't tell me there wasn't sex with anyone on board that ship of yours?"

  I laughed. "Of course there was. Lots of lovemaking, and as furtive and private as people tried to make it everyone knew what, when, who, and where everyone else was doing everyone else. With everyone pretending no one knew anything. It was farcical sometimes."

  "Why secrecy? Sex isn't forbidden on ships, is it? I thought there were married couples on some naval vessels."

  "Not forbidden at all," I answered. "It's just very hard to have any privacy. And the sex had damn well never interfere with the smooth running of the ship."

  She propped her head on her hand. "So, who did you--?"

  "No one."

  Bell's eyes went wide at the sharpness of my words. "Not even a flirtation?"

  "Some flirting," I admitted. "But I didn't get involved with anyone."

  "Was it the lack of privacy that bothered you?"

  "That was certainly part of it."

  Memories churned up. I was already homesick enough for the people and life on board the Moonrunner.

  "You fell in love with someone, didn't you? I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice. Why didn't you do something about it, my dear?"

  She was my sister, and she knew me. We always confided in each other. "I can't talk about it," I said. I touched her cheek. "Not yet." I turned onto my back and closed my eyes. "I'm going to sleep now."

  Chapter Ten

  My lips felt bruised from kisses when I woke. Impossible, since the kissing had only been in my dreams. That those dreams ha
d left me hot and moaning and woke me with an orgasm in the deepest part of the night disturbed me. I reminded myself that physiologically such nighttime antics were perfectly normal. A body my age was seething with hormones in need of normal exercise. Talking about sex had been a reminder of sensations that were needed and longed for. The dreams triggered natural physical response. I'm not sure I could say the dreams had been particularly natural, as they had featured at least four men involved in the pleasuring of Dr. Megere Cliff.

  One of them had been Dr. Danil Heron. Well, he had touched me, and a touch can lead to anything. Which was why one had to be careful of who was and wasn't allowed any kind of physical intimacy. Perhaps the warmth of his hand on my shoulder had led to the dream as much as my conversation with Bell. Along with a memory of a morning's kiss.

  I hoped the vivid memories of last night's dream romp would fade before I sat down to study with the odd young man in the afternoon. Odd, but quite handsome. My dream self had been well aware of his physical charms. Among others.

  "You thrashed around like a madwoman last night," Belladem said from the other side of the bed. She chuckled. "I think you understand why I miss Dwie so much."

  "I don't want to talk about it."

  She refrained from teasing and we made ready for the day.

  Bell had rehearsal at the temple. Tenn and Rassi went along with her to volunteer to help with the charity fete - Tennit was certain Rassi would whip the whole event into shape in no time. I went to my duties at the Home. It was oh, so normal.

  Until I received a summons to report to the main medical building in the middle of my shift.

  My first thought was, Oh, no, my dress isn't ready! as I, of course, assumed that I was being summarily summoned to my surgeon's exam. I was wearing my green leaf-patterned frock, which didn't give the serious, professional aura I wanted, but was at least wasn't frivolous and girlish. I made sure my hair was smooth in its tightly coiled bun at the back of my neck, and hurried across the medical campus to the imposing gray granite edifice which glowered over all the surrounding buildings. To my surprise I was directed to an office on the third floor rather than to the operating theater where the exams were held. I grew apprehensive as I climbed a set of creaky back stairs rather than the grand sweep of marble leading up from the wide front foyer.

  The room I entered had a small window, and it was a gloomy day. There were a pair of nut oil lamps on the desk, which give off a pleasant aroma but not a great deal of light. As lovely and welcome as spring is, it is also the season when glow moss spores erupt. Many people are allergic to the spores, so it is polite and practical to use nut oil rather than the much brighter moss for a few weeks.

  "Close the door."

  The room held a desk and three men. It was the cleric seated at the desk who had spoken. The desk was set precisely in the center of the room. There was no other chair. The two men stood against the wall behind the desk, on either side of it. While they were mostly in shadow, I could make out that the one to my left was tall and lean. The one on the right was a bit shorter, with a heavily muscled build. Their dark blue naval uniforms added to the shadowed effect. I did catch the shine of gold rank stars and braid glinting on their coats. I should say that the slender man lounged against the wall, with his arms crossed rather than standing at rest as did the other officer. His whole attitude was a sneer. Since he was closer to the window I was able to make out that he wore a short, sharp beard and that he had close cropped hair. This told me that his locks were freshly shorn from coming off sea duty to take up a land-based post.

  "There are questions you need to answer, Dr. Cliff," the cleric said.

  The lamps showed the cleric's features clearly enough. He was a cold-eyed young man, pale of hair and skin. But for the fanatic air about him, he looked completely unremarkable. I've spent my life around clerics, but I could not make out what god he served from the red badge prominently displayed on his black tabard.

  I did recognize the worn leather ship's journal resting on the desk before him. I wasn't quite angry yet, or nervous, but a tingle of warning went through me. "That is naval property," I said. "You are not wearing a chaplain's uniform, sir."

  The cleric's pale brows lifted. Behind him, the larger officer grew more alert, and smiled faintly. I wondered if there was a naval justice insignia on his coat lapel. The admiral - I had been able to count the number of gold stripes on his cuff - continued to lean and sneer.

  "It is a matter of chaplain's duties that you need to explain, Dr. Cliff," the cleric said. "You stated in your journal that you assumed religious duties you are not qualified to perform during your time aboard the AIN Moonrunner. Why did you do this, Dr. Cliff?"

  Because I was asked to, was the simplest answer. Captain Copper is not a religious man and didn't feel right about doing the task himself, but I refrained from saying this. "The ship's chaplain took a lead ball in the throat," I replied. "Dr. Swan was able to remove the bullet because we needed the metal, but there was no saving Cleric Grass."

  "You are a proponent of the All blasphemy, are you not Dr. Cliff?"

  There was a certain amount of controversy over the concept that all the gods were aspects of a single divinity, but belief in the All was hardly considered a blasphemy. At least when I'd left home.

  "I made no mention of my personal beliefs in my ship's journal," I told the cleric.

  "You did not teach about the All to your captive audience among the crew?"

  "I did not preach at all," I answered. "Nor did I give religious counsel. I have no training in either aspect of clerical duties."

  He sneered. He didn't do it as well as the admiral. "You are the daughter of a notorious heretic. No doubt, she trained you to pass on her insidious beliefs."

  Since he hadn't asked a question, I didn't say anything in response. If he was trying to provoke some sort of impulsive behavior, he was trying to climb the wrong Cliff, as the family saying goes. This didn't mean that I wasn't provoked, and furious, on my mother's behalf. My mother is one of the most respected theologians in the Empire!

  "What did you preach to the ship's crew?" he demanded after a considerable silence. He tapped the journal cover hard with a forefinger. "Why did you leave the details out of your official report?"

  "I led the songs for each season and festival," I said. "I recited from the epics and precepts. That is the extent of my religious contribution to life on board the Moonrunner. This is noted in my journal." I sang for the dead a few times, but that was something personal I had no intention of sharing with this hostile man.

  "You also took it upon yourself to teach the ship's gun urchins to read. Why did you lower yourself to not only consort with, but instruct, the lowest of the low unacknowledged creatures of society?"

  "Precisely," I answered.

  "A meritocrat."

  It is very hard to hiss a word spelled with those letters, but the cleric somehow managed it.

  "You are a meritocrat?"

  "Of course I am."

  If there was one thing I had no intention of being evasive about, it was my belief in helping others to rise by providing the chance for education and opportunity. The baker and fisherman who began the family passed meritocracy along to their descendants even before it was a formal philosophy, long before it was a movement.

  The cleric slowly stood, looking threatening enough for me to have to fight the urge to back toward the door.

  "You are--"

  "We are done here," the legal officer cut him off.

  The cleric whirled to face the naval men. "I have only begun with this--!"

  "The Imperial Navy only agreed to allow an examination of religious matters," the lawyer said. "You are attempting to exceed your brief. That will not be allowed."

  The cleric glanced, almost furtively, at the admiral. Personally, I would have quailed beneath the glare the admiral turned on the cleric. The cleric snapped his mouth shut and gave a stiff nod. That was good enough for me.

&
nbsp; "You may go, Dr. Cliff," the legal officer said.

  I didn't waste time with even a thank you, a curtsy, or a good-bye. I went.

  Straight back to Lilac House.

  My heart was pounding when I rushed into the parlor where my mother was talking and Miss Apple was taking dictation. They looked up in surprise when I rushed in and shut the door behind me.

  I sat down beside Miss Apple and took her pad and pen from her. I sketched quickly and showed the drawing to my staring mother. "Do you know this badge?"

  She was already frowning at my strange behavior. Her frown deepened when she looked at the sketch. She was silent for a moment. Somewhere in the depths of the house, Belladem was singing.

  "Are these fools threatening you?" mother asked.

  "I think he was really threatening you," I answered. "The cleric who questioned me on a ridiculous pretense referred to you as a heretic."

  "Warning me," she said. She sighed. Mother tried not to get angry with anyone, but I noticed that her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, rigid and white with strain. That was always a sign she was furious and holding it in. "I dislike their going though my daughter to do so."

  "But who are they and why the warning? Why a sudden attack on belief in the All?"

  Or perhaps this wasn't so sudden. I had been away from larger Ang society for a while. Perhaps my memories of home had softened the edges of reality and added an idealistic glow.

  "It is not so much the All that this particular faction is worried about, but about a noblewoman teaching anything new," mother said. "And not even so much about teaching new philosophy, but teaching it to those outside the elite class."