by Enid Titan
Poppy sighed. Monty was right. Her mother’s letter made no sense. She hadn’t gone by “Penny” since she was 5 anyway. She hated the nickname. The symbols scratched out in Monty’s hand were nonsensical and meant… nothing. Write what I have written with your own hands. None of it made any sense. Poppy groaned and stuffed the letter in her desk. She felt bad, not caring, but she was tired of communicating with her mother via cryptic secret messages that made less and less sense. Her head hurt just from reading the note and she had classes anyway. Her mother's crazy ramblings had nothing to do with the crisis anyway. She'd been in prison so many years that it made sense she lost her mind.
Poppy hated that her mother kept giving her false hope and she hated herself for believing in it. I'll rip her stupid note up later, Poppy told herself.
After her first class, Poppy had math. Jason sat next to her and passed her notes on a piece of telepathic paper she had on her desk from their last study session. Poppy wasn’t in the mood to get caught and punished again, especially since she was enough of an outcast, so she shoved the paper into her pocket to Jason’s annoyance. After class, she avoided all three of the boys. Poppy wasn’t entirely sure that they weren’t the ones ignoring her.
On the ice rink, she met up with Hecate who noticed how glum she was.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just need to skate.”
Poppy couldn’t get that stupid note from her mom out of her head. The insane ramblings of a madwoman and a terrorist, Poppy thought. She’d been stupid to think that she could make good of her mother’s legacy here. She was lucky just to be away from the burning planet, even if she missed the place. And she missed CJ. And she missed scampering around New-Man with Uncle Monty barely checking in on her. Aliens were always watching, ensuring she never had a moment alone, ensuring that she didn’t have time to kick and scream and break into temples and mess around. Even her morning with Ajax had been interrupted just before it could get fun.
Jocasta skated up to Hecate and Poppy during warm-up. Jocasta's skating improved immensely and she'd nearly mastered skating backward.
“Hey Poppy, are we still good later?”
Hecate bristled once Jocasta was near her. Poppy assumed it was the typical Devoran penchant for discrimination.
“Yeah. We’re good.”
“Are you coming, Hecate?”
“I’ll pass,” Hecate mumbled before skating ahead to catch up with other boys in their class — Demetrius and Boreas.
“What’s up with her?” Jocasta grumbled.
“Nothing. It’s just Hecate. Probably girl drama.”
“Ugh. Gross. I’m glad you’re not super boy crazy… or girl-crazy,” Jocasta added before linking arms with her. At least this time, she could skate without hanging onto Poppy's shoulders and didn’t hold Poppy back. She didn’t need to worry about helping Jocasta when that stupid message from her mom was still on her mind. After warm-ups, they grabbed hockey sticks and practiced shooting at Ajax in the goal.
As sophomores, they’d be eligible to join the school team and play against the other Academies, but for now, they could only practice and play against each other. Ajax was a good goalie and he’d gotten better. Given his size, he had a good chance of making the team next year. Shooting against Ajax sucked and Poppy was one of the few who had ever scored against him. Today, she had no luck. It didn’t help that he took advantage of their bond to taunt her.
«Hard to shoot when you’re thinking about my cock, isn’t it, Poppy?»
Luckily, he kept his lascivious taunts between the two of them, which was all well and good but didn’t distract from how damn annoying he was. After practice, Jocasta linked arms with Poppy.
“I know something’s on your mind, Poppy. We’ll talk about it tonight, okay?”
Poppy nodded. She thought about the note throughout all her classes and then hurried back to her room to tidy up so that Nurse Hygieia wouldn’t revoke her permission to have Jocasta over. Jocasta came by right on time. Poppy had her books out, but Jocasta folded her arms and shoved them off the desk.
“Uh uh. First, we’re going to talk about what’s bothering you.”
Jocasta had cut her hair recently, highlighting the high cheekbones on her pale round face.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Come on! You’ve been a wet blanket all day.”
Poppy sighed and opened her desk drawer.
“Fine. I got a weird letter from my mom today. But I’ve never told you about my mom. I’ve never told anyone here.”
“Not even Hecate?”
“No.”
“Let’s see it then.”
Poppy slammed her hand on the letter.
“Wait. I might as well tell you before you think I’m a freak. You won’t tell anyone, right?”
“No! Of course not.”
“Good.”
Poppy told Jocasta everything — how she never grew up with her mother, the crimes her mother had committed and the startling news of her pending execution.
“You must be sad.”
“Sort of. I never really knew her. It’s more like being sad about the idea of her, you know.”
“It’s hard,” Jocasta whispered, “To lose both your parents.”
“Oh, don’t cry! You’ll only make me cry,” Poppy complained.
“You’re right. Come on then. Let’s take a look at the letter.”
“I don’t think you’ll understand it. It doesn’t make any sense.”
Jocasta snatched the letter.
“Let me be the judge of that,” Jocasta responded.
41
Symbols & Visions
“I get it,” Jocasta muttered after scanning the letter for a few minutes. Her fingers traced the lines as she re-read the letter one last time.
“You don’t have to pretend that it makes sense,” Poppy grumbled, “I know my mother. She's been in prison.”
“No. It does make sense. I can’t believe you didn’t understand it.”
Jocasta grinned and her happy-go-lucky expression irritated Poppy. There was nothing to smile about. After years in prison, the courts determined her mother’s fate: execution. Some pithy ramblings on a piece of paper wouldn’t make a difference.
“Stop frowning. Get a sheet of paper.”
“I only have this,” Poppy replied, dejected, taking out the piece of telepathic paper she’d used during her lessons with Jason.
“Telepathic?” Jocasta asked, raising a curious brow.
“I’ve been using it for class.”
“Even better.”
Jocasta continued to smile and laid the paper flat on Poppy’s desk.
“Got a pen?”
“Yeah. It’s nearly out of ink.”
Everyone on Devor used fountain pens and didn’t seem troubled by the impracticality compared to a ballpoint. Jocasta shook the pen and then handed it to Poppy, pulling the chair out from her desk.
“Go ahead, sit.”
“Mind telling me what on earth I’m doing?”
“Decoding.”
Her eyes glowed for a split second, reminding Poppy that Jocasta was more similar to her three boys than she cared to admit. The nib of her pen hovered over the paper.
“Care to tell me what happens now?”
“The symbols. See? They’re repeating over and over.”
“Okay…”
“You need to write the symbols down. Only you. It’s a telepathic code.”
“It’s clearly a bunch of nonsense.”
“It will make sense once you’ve written it out. Humans are partial telepaths, are they not?”
“So I’ve been told,” Poppy replied half-heartedly.
“This is a telepathic code. I’ve seen it before. They’re common on my planet. Like a kid’s game. You put a telepathic message in the symbols and when the intended subject writes the symbols out they get… a message.”
“My mother’s human,” Poppy reminded
her, frustration itching at her collarbone.
“I know. But she clearly has spent time with telepaths. Give it a try. Scratch the symbols out in your own hand. You’ll see something. You’ll understand.”
“Then what?”
Poppy nearly touched the nib to paper, held back only by her uncertainty over what would come next. What message could her mother possibly have for her that would help? She’d been sent to a distant planet on some false hope that she could actually make a difference and save the Earth, but now humanity shuddered in one final gasping cough and Poppy sat on an ice planet lightyears away as powerless she’d started off.
Jocasta put her hand on Poppy’s shoulder.
“Give her a chance.”
Poppy considered an even worse outcome.
“What if nothing happens? What if it’s more rambling?”
“You won’t know unless you try.”
“What are you going to do if I have a vision?” Poppy asked.
Jocasta shrugged.
“I’ll be here. That’s all that matters.”
“Here goes,” Poppy mumbled.
She pressed the nib of her pen to the telepathic paper and sketched out the first symbol. Then the second. Her hand trembled unwittingly as she came to the third symbol.
“Jocasta…” she whispered.
“Keep going.”
Energy vibrated in Poppy’s fingers as she held the pen, a numbing warmth traveled up her phalanges and she kept scratching out the symbols. As Poppy grew close to the end, the pen sunk into the paper on its own, now heavier than she could lift and carried along by its own intention. Her eyes fluttered shut yet her hands managed to continue their work scratching out the symbols. When she was finished, Poppy opened her eyes and she was no longer in her isolated room with Jocasta sitting on her bed.
She recognized this place — the boat. Her father was nearby somewhere. The boat rocked as she held onto the railing, waiting for him. For once, Poppy didn’t rush to find him. She stared out at the large blue waves, so far below the deck, both terrifying yet strangely inviting.
“Hello, Penelope.”
“Mom?”
It wasn’t her father, but her mother. She was older than the last time Poppy saw her. Her long grey hair whipped in the sea breeze. This was the last person Poppy expected to see.
“Mother… How are you here?”
“I came to tell you a secret. I came across the stars. I came before they have my head.”
Poppy’s cheeks were wet. She tried to reach out for her mother, but her mother recoiled.
“I know your visions, Poppy. I can see what you’re trying to remember. We’d hoped that you would never have to know. We hoped that you would live a normal life.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Each time you’ve had a vision, something has been blocking your understanding. Your father and I put that block there many years ago to protect you.”
“Protect me? Neither of you has been in my life for years! The only person who’s protected me is Uncle Monty.”
“Yes. Montgomery has done a good job, even if he is a righteous snob.”
“Mom…”
“Sorry, dear. I couldn’t write much. I couldn’t send all the information at once. I might as well tell you the story.”
“Don’t I get to ask anything? Have my questions answered?” Poppy snapped.
She teared up, frustrated, desperate for this vision to end with answers for once instead of with more questions.
“Patience, Penelope.”
The boat dipped, bringing them so close to the water that for a moment, Poppy feared falling in. She grabbed the metal handrail and shivered as the cold shot up her arm.
“Your father does not come from Earth, my child. We’ve held onto the secret for years.”
“That’s impossible. Uncle Monty’s human.”
“Yes, he is. And they share a mother. But they don’t share a father.”
“So you’re saying that dad’s an alien?”
“Half…”
“So does that mean…”
Her mother nodded.
“Your father comes from a race of powerful telepaths. They live close to Earth, beneath the surface of the moon. They hide beneath the craters and the stones and conceal their power. Not even the Devorans know how to find them. No other alien race does.”
“Are they on earth?”
“No. As you know, your gran was an astronaut.”
Poppy nodded. She barely remembered hearing about her gran. Monty didn’t talk about any of his family if he could avoid it. She didn't want to believe what her mother said. This story about her father's past came across as ridiculous. In her vision, the truth would always be revealed. She sensed fact and fiction, and Penelope sensed her mother's words were true.
“Before your gran married, there was an accident. Her ship landed on the moon. She wasn’t the first human they’d come across and they didn’t want to let her go. After a few years, she had Julian.”
“Dad?”
“Yes.”
“How did she leave the moon?”
“Montgomery has the particulars. In his message. I couldn’t risk putting it all in one place.”
“How do I know any of this is true?” Poppy asked.
42
Fading
Poppy ignored her mother’s body slowly fading like a specter. She reached out to grab her and found nothing solid. None of this was real. Her mother’s voice came like a whisper or an echo.
“Your father’s kind will find you now that I’ve told them you exist. Once you become aware, they know. They come around the shadows and the corners and they do not abandon their own. They are powerful people and you will need your strength to handle them. They do not approve of outsiders.”
“They approved of gran.”
“Because it is not their way to let the innocent die. If anyone comes looking for them, they will not be found.”
“What am I supposed to do with this information?”
“They are lunar beings. They need the earth to survive. When you find them, or more likely when they find you, they will allow you to tap into your power.”
“If you knew this all along, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Powerful people are often dangerous, Penelope. I wasn’t desperate before.”
“You were desperate enough to commit a crime.”
“That put my life at risk and saved yours. It was worth it.”
A lump stuck in her throat like uncooked food. Her mother and her silver hair faded more quickly. Poppy had so much to say to her and so much to ask, yet she couldn’t ask it. The words wouldn’t come and all she could do was cry as she leaned over the edge of the boat. The seas rocked and soon Poppy was alone on the deck.
A short message was all her mother promised. She heaved in a sob and blinked. By the time she opened her eyes, she was slumped over her desk, her hand gripping her pen. Jocasta sat up on her bed with wide, glowing eyes.
“Are you alright?”
Poppy nodded. After other visions exhaustion and weakness usually overcame her. This time, she only felt strong. And aware. Each color in her room danced before her, the holographic smoothness of the walls, the warm white wool, and fur on her made bed, the nearly translucent blue of Jocasta’s skin all rushed into her awareness.
She could feel Jocasta’s telepathic field, bubbly and anxious, her fears that she didn’t belong became that much more visible to Poppy. She noticed that Jocasta kept staring at her desk.
“What?”
“Look at what you drew,” she whispered.
“Hm?”
Poppy looked down and her chest tightened as she saw it. In her vision, she’d drawn a strange diagram on the page in front of her. The ring of symbols in a language she didn’t understand drew a shudder out of her.
“Oh.”
“I shouldn’t ask what happened,” Jocasta said solemnly.
Poppy’s
jaw tightened. Whether she wanted to or not, she knew the words would never come out to explain what she’d seen in her vision or the strange half-secret her mother revealed.
The other half of the message was with Uncle Monty.
“I couldn’t tell you,” Poppy whispered.
“Did it help?”
“I think so. I think I ought to talk to Castor or Jason about it. Maybe Ajax too.”
Jocasta grimaced. Poppy cocked her head to the side curiously. She’d never seen Jocasta respond to anything like that — with a grimace.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” Jocasta said, a smile covering up the quick flash of anger, “Of course everything is fine. Why do you want to find them?”
“I just think they could help.”
“Something weird is going on with the four of you,” Jocasta said.
The statement lingered somewhere between a question and an assertion.
“Nothing weird.”
Jocasta shrugged, “I’d be careful. Popular guys like that are such players.”
Poppy wanted to ask her about Devorans mating for life but asking such a thing would reveal far more to Jocasta than she intended. She changed the subject.
“Thanks for helping me, Jo. Are you ready for the end of semester exams?”
Jocasta nodded and began to wrap herself in clothes to leave. Nurse would be back to put their visit to an end.
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’m so not ready.”
“The Devoran calendar is weird. Six months on, six months off, and six months back on — and that’s only one year.”
“How long are years on Earth?”
Not long enough, Poppy thought.
“Only twelve months.”
“Strange. It’s a funny little planet, isn’t it? Maybe one day I’ll go there.”
“Yes. It is.”
