I said nothing. From the furious look on the Dramok’s face, it didn’t seem like such a good conversation after all. I thought maybe we should drop the matter.
Yet Resan was on a roll, one that had him spewing venom. “They chose him only because he didn’t mind my Dramok father’s low rank. There was a huge amount of pressure on my mother to join a more highly placed clan, but she loved my fathers. They were desperate to be together, so they rushed to gain the Nobek.”
“There was a year’s wait to get through still,” I pointed out. “Where the men had to prove clan stability.”
“Yes. My grandmother – mother to my mother – told me there were arguments fit to shake the skies during that time. It was a terrible year where my mother threatened to run away and never speak to her parents again. Finally it was clear she would not clan with any but her lovers and my grandparents gave up.”
Resan’s story amazed me. “Surely your parent clan had to get along with their Nobek though? Or at least I hope they do, since it’s a lifelong contract.”
He looked grumpy. “They made it work. As you say, it’s a lifelong contract. Fortunately, his life has been over for several years.”
Wow. No remorse could be found in that statement at all. “What was your problem with him?”
Resan shook his head. “To start with, he was not intelligent and he reveled in his stupidity. He possessed no compulsion to better himself. He’d piss in the corners of the house if someone didn’t point him to the facility.”
I cocked a brow at the Dramok. He had to be exaggerating.
Resan huffed at my disbelief. “His idea of a good time was sitting around and getting drunk with his friends. Then he’d come home and yell at everyone. He never cleaned up after himself. My mother and Imdiko father were constantly running behind him, picking his shit up and putting things away.”
“He sounds like a piece of work,” I had to admit.
“He was belligerent and couldn’t stand anyone who wanted to make something of themselves. I can’t tell you how many times he’d walk into my sleeping room and trash my belongings because I was getting ‘above myself’ as he put it.” Resan picked up a small piece of paneling that lay close by and flung it at the wall. “There was a particularly ugly argument when I was 14. I ran away to my grandparents’ and refused to go back home. Fortunately, my grandmother insisted I stay.”
“Your parents didn’t make you come home?”
Resan’s anger drained away. He looked glum. “My mother cried. My Imdiko father begged me to come home, and my Dramok father tried to find a reason to get me and Grandmother to relent. He made his Nobek apologize. We talked about family counseling, but I knew that stupid bastard was just agreeing to whatever until the fuss died down. Then it would be the same thing all over again. I was sure of that even if the authorities got involved in the matter and the counseling was court-ordered. He’d play along and make it look like he’d reformed. I wasn’t willing to do it anymore.”
“So in the end, everyone agreed to you staying with your mother’s parents.”
Resan nodded. “My two fathers and mother would come to visit me there, or I’d stop by their place when I knew their Nobek wasn’t around. It worked out much better for me that way. I was able to study without worrying he’d come in and make fun of me or tear my work to pieces. I could excel without him screaming at me for trying to rise above my station in life.”
It was a sad tale. I even felt sorry for Resan, though I didn’t show it. He’d despise me more than ever for pitying him.
“How did he die?”
Resan barked a harsh laugh. “He got drunk while watching kurble championships with his friends. On his way home, he went off course. He ended up flying his shuttle straight into the sea, the idiot.” The Dramok gave me an actual grin, one filled with black triumph. “But not before I won my region’s top physical trainer award and refused to let him attend the ceremony. My victories were mine. He wasn’t able to attribute one damned bit of it to himself.”
Whew. The man needed some closure, but with his Nobek father dead, he wasn’t going to get it. Resan would have to heal his childhood wounds on his own – if at all. Somehow I didn’t think he was going to learn to forgive and forget.
The glimpse into his background was informative, if nothing else. I admit if half of what he told me was true, I had to admire Resan for rising above his upbringing. He’d had it tough and managed to become highly esteemed in his field. I had Oses and Betra’s assurances on that.
I could understand Resan a little better now. I could even respect him a little. But that didn’t mean I had to like him. Which was good since neither of us wanted me to.
August 28, estimated
My best guess was that another day had passed when the ship started to shake again. It wasn’t as violent as the first time, but it was still pretty bad.
Our lights flickered in and out, strobing so that that the room’s movements seemed to happen in stop-motion. The heaps of debris slid, sending off dangerous avalanches of shattered lighting panels.
“Stay low!” Resan yelled to me as we scrambled to the center of our cleared area, away from the shifting wreckage threatening us.
I did as he said, my crawling more like slithering with my belly to the floor. Damn this room and nothing to hide under.
“More explosives?” I shouted. At this rate, half the transport would be blown away.
“It feels more like fighting. Like a sustained attack from another large vessel.”
I could only hope the Pussy ‘Porter wasn’t having to take on the Earther battlecruiser. We were done for in that case.
There was an awful booming sound right over our heads. Resan and I looked up to see a huge crack had formed across the ceiling beneath the computer panels. Dust rained down on our upturned faces. A couple of computer interfaces dropped down, one crashing barely a foot from Resan’s head.
My heart hammered and I quaked even without the floor shuddering beneath me. Yet my tone was surprisingly bland. “Well, fuck.”
What else was there to say?
Resan and I watched as the crack overhead widened. It seemed pretty certain the ceiling was going to crash down on us. I thought of Anrel and readied myself for the worst.
Then all went quiet again, but for the groaning of the ship around us. Hearing the creaking supports within the walls and ceiling reacting to the shock was about as hair-raising as the actual attack had been. I thought something might still cave in on us at any second. At least the lights steadied. The room no longer shuddered.
After the chaos, I wanted desperately to com Oses or Betra. I wanted to check on them and Anrel. However, I’d received no word that normal communications had been restored. And Oses – if he was all right – was no doubt too busy to deal with my worrying. He had a ship to protect.
I still tried to com Betra on the off chance I would reach him. No such luck. For a wonder, Resan didn’t make fun of me for what we both knew was a vain attempt. He focused on clearing the piles of shit that had fallen in our space and glaring at the cracked ceiling. It was as if he thought he could intimidate the fissure into fixing itself. If I was that ceiling, I’d have fallen just to spite him.
Once I’d given up on hearing Betra’s voice, I also worked to move the fallen pieces out of our way. I noted that making the clearing as big as Resan had before might have saved us from being chopped to bits. I didn’t say anything about it though. We enlarged our space more than before, putting debris up against the walls.
Then there was nothing to do once more but wait for the next ration of food and pain medication. And rescue. Waiting, waiting, waiting. In its way, it was worse than hanging on for dear life as the room rocked all around. Listening to the continued muffled noises of the room’s damaged structure straining to remain intact was nightmarish.
I hurt like hell too. I was determined to wait for as long as possible before giving in and taking something for the pain. If we were still under attack, who
knew when we would be pulled out? If ever. Now there was a cheerful thought.
Resan had located his handheld computer as he’d picked up debris. He turned it over in his hands, looking at it with grim interest. He’d turned it on once to verify it still worked. It did, but like the transmitter linking our coms to the ship, it couldn’t access a connection to send out any messages. Not only that, he didn’t have the means to recharge it once its power was depleted. So he kept it off, conserving it for whatever aid it might render at some future time.
Resan stopped playing with it and looked at me. “I have a request.”
“Yeah?”
“I think it would be wise to record final messages to my parent and grandparent clans in the event I don’t survive this. I ask that you see to it they receive those messages.”
My first instinct was to tell Resan that of course he would make it. However, I knew better. I would not throw empty words around in the hopes of temporary comfort. We could die at any moment. There was no point in pretending otherwise.
“Sure. I’ll do that,” I said.
“You may record messages on my device too, if you wish. If you are killed and I am not, I will see to it your loved ones get your last communication.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
I don’t know about Resan, but the thought of being the last link to those he might leave behind gave me a boost in courage. We talked about the chances of our end, but far from being a gesture of throwing in the towel, it bolstered my resolve to survive. Delivering Resan’s final messages to grieving loved ones felt like an important mission. I certainly could not fail his esteemed grandmother who he threw in my face so often – may the great lady live forever.
While Resan recorded his messages, speaking in Kalquorian too rapid for me to follow, I sorted out who I would leave my final words to. My mother, of course. My dads. Oses. Betra. Most important of all, Anrel.
It hurt to think of my little girl growing up with no memory of me, no good times to reflect on. I hated the idea of being a short series of pictures and vids for her. Of being a story others would share. Of being a voice from the long-lost past.
I thought of all the things I needed to tell her, of my life on Earth before her, of Armageddon, of all that had come after. I thought of sharing our dramatic start together, each of us fighting in her own way to escape the It. And then the wonderful moments of seeing her grow, of every little miracle of progress that she made to live.
I could have written volumes of books to tell Anrel just half the things I wanted her to know. How was I supposed to share everything I felt needed to be said? How would I reach across time to allow her a connection to a woman she wouldn’t remember?
When Resan gave me the handheld, I still had no idea of how to express a universe of experiences. So I kept it to the things I wanted Anrel to know most of all.
“Hello, Anrel. This is your mother, Shalia Monroe. I am recording this for you, for later, because I’m in a bad situation that may mean I won’t live to see you again.
“I want you to know more than anything that I love you. In the short time I’ve been blessed with your existence, I have felt like the luckiest woman alive. Just seeing you makes my heart fill. You are the greatest gift I could have ever asked for. Thank you for that.
“Anrel, never give up on anything that you feel is right. Never give up on yourself. If you would do anything to make me proud, do that.
“Be strong. Keep getting up when you don’t think you have the strength to do so anymore.
“Be brave. Do what’s right even when fear is choking you. Never let fear stop you from pushing forward, because fear is only a feeling.
“Always reach for success. Do your best even when you know you can’t win, because trying is its own success.
“Don’t forget to stop and appreciate the good things in life. The people who love you. A beautiful day. The talents you will develop. It’s easy to forget and take everyday wonderful things for granted. Try to remember every now and then to count your blessings, because that’s what makes everything worthwhile. More than success and money and all the rest, I want you to be happy. Do that for me, Anrel. Above all else, be happy.
“I love you, my warrior girl. Forever and always.”
I clicked to end the recording. I sat for a moment, wondering if I had said the right things. I hadn’t told Anrel anything about myself. I hadn’t given her a hint of the woman who’d carried her. My message had been all about a mother’s hopes and wishes for her child, a desperate attempt at all the guidance I might not be able to give in person.
I couldn’t think straight though. Every time I thought of what else I should say, all I could come up with was the hope that Anrel would be okay. That she wouldn’t make bad choices, that she would be safe, that she would be strong enough to make others fuck off when they tried to harm her.
As I tried to sort through the onslaught of feelings and worries, my gaze fell on Resan. He regarded me with interest. His expression was impossible to read otherwise. His brows pulled together. There was a hint of a smile on his lips.
Before I could ask him what the fuck he thought he was looking at, he gave me a slow nod. For the first time, I heard him speak to me in a tone filled with respect. “A good message for your daughter to hear in the years to come. Well done.”
Prophets help us. Hell just froze over.
I finished recording all my goodbyes. Another long period of inactivity followed. I couldn’t find a comfortable way to sit or lie down. I played a game with myself to help me get through the endless time stretching into forever. I promised my back I would take my half-tab of painkiller in five minutes. Then I counted the seconds off, concentrating on my breathing as I did so. When the five minutes were up, I told myself I could handle another five minutes. I’d learned this trick with Oses when we’d been imprisoned by the Little Creep. Meditation became my refuge, my only means of escape. I noted Resan doing similar breathing exercises.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when my com went off. “Hello?” I nearly screamed, both from being startled and hope. Resan was at my side in an instant.
“Good. You’re all right,” came Oses’ relieved voice. “Anrel is fine too.”
I whooshed a relieved breath. “I’m okay in that I’m no worse than the last time we talked. Dramok Resan too. What’s happening?”
“I’ll make this quick because I’ve got to get back to the bridge. We had to go to full engagement for several minutes because one of the destroyers lost weapons.”
I felt ill. “Are we down to just one destroyer?”
“No, they got their systems back online, thank the ancestors. We got pounded though. The damage is significant. Some of your section has fallen to pieces. The end opposite the direction you’d go to reach Medical is now impassable.”
I glanced up at the big crack in the ceiling. “Yeah, we’ve got structural issues in here too. Another hit and Resan and I will become pancakes.”
Oses cursed once and then recovered. “Shalia, reinforcements from the Empire are coming at full speed, but they’re still hours away. Every man I’ve got is needed for defense. All rescue efforts have been halted for now.”
I exchanged a look with Resan. Help was not coming in the near future. We would survive or we would not. It was that simple.
I told Oses, “We’ll hold out as best we can. Give ‘em hell, big guy. Keep those other women and Anrel safe.”
We signed off and I put my com on my belt. I’d barely finished that when the air boomed and the room rocked. Fighting was on again. I hunkered down low to the floor, side by side with Resan. We stared at each other, our gazes grim as we bumped into each other over and over.
Another sound filled the room, louder than anything that had come before. It sounded as if the heavens themselves were splintering apart, a series of earsplitting cracks. Resan glanced up.
“The ceiling’s coming down!”
He suddenly leapt upward, a strang
e frog-hop that ended with him landing on top of me. My back shrieked with momentous agony as his weight came down. The lights went out, and all was black and heaviness and thunder. Then a split second of pain shot lightning through my skull. A deeper black descended, along with blessed silence.
I have no idea how long I was out. When I woke, I was on my stomach, face to the floor. I blinked to see debris lying around me, pieces of gray stuff not made of lighting panel. Computer segments. Conduits vomiting wiring.
The lights were back on, but dimmer than before. My head pounded, and I dizzily wondered how many knocks on the skull I could take before my head caved in.
That reminded me of the ceiling. The rubble I stared at was obviously the fragmented remains. I shifted to one side to look up.
Sure enough, the ceiling was now missing. Heavy metallic ducts hung down like industrial party streamers from a sheet of steel that I assumed was all that separated this room from the one a level above. The sky had fallen.
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