“And now I must make one of those decisions, Neutrino.”
What is she getting at?
“The fact of the matter is, we’re not going to make it, unless you help us.”
“I already told you…” Neutrino began.
“I know what you told us, but it’s simply unacceptable. You are our best hope.”
“Someone else may come. Another Slipstream Messenger, or a supply ship?”
“That’s just not going to happen,” she sighed, “We’re not due for a supply run for another six months. And it’s unlikely that another Messenger would be sent here right now if the Slipstream is as bad as you say. We’re a relatively small and frequently forgotten planet, except of course for when they need more Almatium. They give us this great big Stream Port and Navigators that have hardly anything to do. The only time a Messenger shows up is when Central Command needs an update on Almatium production, or to demand swifter results. Occasionally a Messenger passes through on their way to somewhere even less important. We just sent out a report a week ago. This simply couldn’t have happened at a worse time.” She paused, looking into her drink which she was slowly swirling in its glass. “Don’t you want to get home to your mother, Neutrino? And what about a girl? I bet a handsome young man such as yourself has got a great girl just waiting for him. You could help us and yourself at the same time.”
Neutrino didn’t know what to say to that. It took most of his concentration not to laugh, especially as he imagined how he must look right now, with dried sweat and tears all over his face. He took another sip of wine and averted eye contact.
“Neutrino, please, you must help us.”
“I’m sorry, Mistress, but I’m just a miserable cadet.”
“Even a miserable cadet may become capable when the situation calls for it. Like today, when you jumped into the Slipstream. You knew it was a terrible risk, but you were desperate. We’re just as desperate here,” Neutrino took another sip of the spice wine, which really was starting to taste better, and continued trying to avoid her gaze.
Naruk sighed and switched tactics.
“How long do you think I’ve been the Council leader here, Neutrino?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged.
“Would you believe that today is my first day?” He looked up at her in surprise. The way she commanded the audience, her presence and composure, he never would have guessed that she was new at this.
“It’s true,” she continued, “Elder Yawlis disappeared today along with the others. I was his second.” She looked down again at her wine glass with sadness in her eyes.
Neutrino considered her words for a few minutes. He took yet another sip of the wine, which was becoming more and more delightful and relaxing. Without it, he probably never would have been bold enough to say what he did next.
“I’m sorry, Mistress, that your leader is gone. It was probably very difficult for you to take his place. But with all due respect, it is not the same thing. You are obviously a very strong person. I’m sure someday you would have taken his place anyway. But me? I’m not meant for this kind of thing. I’m the worst cadet ever. They never should have even let me into the SEMS Academy in the first place, and they definitely shouldn’t have let me stay so long. You’ll have to find another way.”
“But what about your mother? You would disappoint her so?”
“It’s a little late for that, I’m already a huge disappointment; one more thing won’t make a whole lot of difference. I doubt she’d care.” Neutrino surprised himself with the comment and with how much it stung. Did he believe it?
Naruk paused, considering her next approach. “We are doomed without your help. You do realize that if you stay here you will die with us?”
“I’d rather die here than in space,” he said more firmly than he expected. Naruk’s face soured. She stood up and walked across the room to the little table where the wine was. She kept her back to him for several minutes while Neutrino inwardly panicked.
I shouldn’t have said that. Did I go too far?
“I thought you would be reasonable. I see now that is impossible,” she swooped down at him so quickly that he sank back into his finely detailed chair. “The Council will not allow you to stay here eating our food and using up what little resources we have. Tomorrow, you will return to the surface. Either you will go to the Slipstream Port and take off for Venthall, or you can face the ylmax and starvation. The Council will meet tomorrow at the rise of the second sun; you have until then to decide.” She walked towards the door.
“But…” he began to say. “Even if I made it back, which is extremely unlikely,” he let out a short burst of self-deprecating laughter, “It’s not like you’ll have food here tomorrow. It would take something like a month to get here, and Creet said you only had food for two weeks.”
“It would be something,” Naruk scowled, “It would be a chance we don’t have now. Right now we have nothing. Not even the hope of something. If my people knew that help was coming, they could make the rations stretch. They could hold on until relief came, most of them anyway.”
“But…” Neutrino started again and hesitated, searching for some excuse, some other reason why he couldn’t do this. She ignored him this time and opened the door. The same guard was waiting there.
“Escort our guest to Creet’s for the night,” she said sharply.
“Wait…”
“Unless you’re going to volunteer to help us, I don’t want to hear it.” He stood up and walked to the door, stopping to look her directly in the face as he passed. He wanted her to see his displeasure. He wanted to burn a hole in her head with his gaze. With her eyes suddenly cold and angry, she stared right back, then she slammed the door behind him.
10. Self-Pity
Neutrino sat quietly in the small bedroom in Creet’s tiny apartment, which was really just a well dug hole in the wall. It was even less impressive than his home above ground, but it was not entirely unwelcoming. It was dry and warm. The bed, Selia’s normally, was surprisingly soft and comforting, and having finally gotten the opportunity to wash up in the community restrooms, Neutrino felt better than he had since he woke up in his own bunk at the Academy. Yet he could not get comfortable. Instead, he sat at the edge of the bed and thought that his discomfort was more likely due to his self-loathing, which had sharpened now that the wine was wearing off.
He had sunk to a new low, refusing to help the Arnasians in his cowardice. Neutrino knew that everything Naruk had told him about their certain doom was true, and yet he couldn’t seem to care.
I am not going into the Slipstream again, no matter the cost. Somehow a slow and certain death from starvation, or even a quick and painful one by the ylmax, was less terrifying than the possibility of floating out into space forever.
But still…Neutrino couldn’t stand himself. He just wanted to be different. He wanted to reach inside of his skin and change everything about himself. He wanted to be the person that they wished he was; that they needed him to be. Every time he closed his eyes he saw their faces; first so adoring and hopeful, then hateful and disgusted. Only Creet had not abandoned him, although Neutrino was pretty sure he was disappointed too. How could he not be?
“Neutrino?” Temur had appeared in the doorway, “Father is back with dinner.” Neutrino nodded but he did not look up. He felt Temur linger for a minute before retreating into the main area. Neutrino wasn’t sure he wanted to leave his little hideout, but he was already embarrassed by his cowardice, avoiding them would be even worse.
Neutrino walked into the main room and slumped down into an empty chair. Creet was dishing up some kind of stew into five bowls and Temur was breaking a very small loaf of bread into five pieces as well. Marusit brought over small wooden cups that he had filled with a bluish liquid, presumably water satiated with Almatium crystals.
“Ah, Neutrino,” Creet had begun passing out the bowls, “How did everythin’ go with Naruk?”
“Okay,”
he lied. He didn’t really want to discuss the situation, especially with Creet’s children around.
“Is this it?” Marusit whined when he got his bowl and saw the small portion, “We got more at lunch.”
“They’ve cut the rations, Marusit. We’ll just have to make due,” said Creet as he scraped the bottom of the pot to fill his own dish, which Neutrino noticed was slightly less full then his children’s. “You should have seen some of them fightin’ like spoiled little kids over whose pot had more. That’s why I’m so late; I had to help keep everyone in order. Times like these just seem to bring out the worst in some people,” he finished, shaking his head at their behavior. Then Creet looked up at Neutrino and quickly turned his gaze away. He hadn’t meant it as an insult, but Neutrino still felt it.
It was hard sitting across from him, knowing that Creet was very much the opposite of himself. Neutrino looked down at his bowl of stew, steaming gently, and thought of how times like these sometimes brought out the best in people.
“You know, I’m still kind of full from all of that food I ate in your kitchen earlier. Why don’t you guys eat this?” He pushed the bowl back across the table. Undecided, Creet stared into Neutrino’s eyes.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said quietly.
“Yes, I do.”
“Thank you, Neutrino.” Reluctantly, Creet took the bowl and the bread and divided it among his children, taking only a small portion for himself. Neutrino had never known anyone quite like Creet. Here they were, on the verge of starvation, and Creet, this behemoth of a man who must have been famished, was still willing to turn down an extra ration. All for the sake of a stranger who had as good as abandoned them.
“It’s the least I can do,” Neutrino mumbled. And that was the real truth. It was the least he could do. He could take the risk and try making it back to Venthall. He could save them. He alone could do something. Instead, the least he could do, was give them his meager dinner.
Neutrino watched while they ate and the boys chatted about all the different goings-on in the Under City. It could have been a regular evening, except for the knowledge hiding below the surface that these meals were numbered, and the sensation that although the table was full, someone was missing.
Selia worried him the most. The little girl had grown quieter throughout dinner and Creet had to repeatedly remind her to eat, even if she wasn’t hungry. She kept looking into the kitchen area, like she expected to see her mama there. Neutrino had the distinct impression she was just now realizing that things had really changed.
After dinner, Temur and Marusit cleaned the dishes and prepared for bed. Creet said goodnight to his boys, hugging each tightly in turn, then took his daughter to his room, (where she would be sleeping since Neutrino now had her room). Though he tried not to eavesdrop, Neutrino could hear them talking low from the table, it was not a large apartment after all.
“Now, how does your mama usually tuck you in?” Creet said in a low gravelly voice.
“Papa, I miss Mama.” Selia said quietly after a moment’s silence.
“Of course you do, love. I miss her too.”
“But…”
“What is it darlin’?”
“I didn’t miss her today, not really, not until now.”
“Oh, that’s okay. It’s been a busy day and lots been goin’ on. Even I haven’t thought about her every second. Sometimes, it seems like she’s just in the other room, or visitin’ a neighbor and I forget…Well…It’ll take some time I s’pose.”
“What will?”
Creet hesitated, “Just…everything, I expect.”
“Shouldn’t I miss her all the time? And think about her all the time?”
Creet paused again, then said, “Well, love, if you spend all of your time thinkin’ about her and missin’ her…you just… you can’t do that. You can’t always be sad. Mama wouldn’t like that at all. So long as you’ve got her in your heart. So long as you remember and think about her sometimes. That’s all you need.” Silence again.
“Is Mama coming back?” Selia had begun to cry. Neutrino heard her sniffle and then there was the ruffle of blankets, as if Creet were trying to console her.
“I don’t know darlin’… but I hope so. I’m wishin’ for it with all my heart.”
Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. The silence was painful even for Neutrino. It was as though the walls were breathing sad sighs of longing all around him.
“Good night, Selia,” Creet said finally.
“Wait, Papa! Mama always sings to me,” she whined.
“Well, darlin’,” Creet laughed sheepishly, “You know I’m not much of a singer, and it’s late already…”
“But Mama always sings,” Selia pouted then sniffled.
“Oh, but I don’t think I can even remember any songs.”
“Please?” she implored again.
“Well, why don’t you sing tonight darlin’? Then I can learn the words and sing tomorrow.”
There was silence for a moment before Selia agreed and began singing. She had a nice voice for such a little girl. Neutrino enjoyed listening to her. It was a very slow and romantic song, and Selia probably would have gone on singing for several more minutes except that Creet interrupted her.
“That’s enough for tonight. It’s late. Sleep well, darlin’.” He put out the light and rushed out of her room, but he did not return to the main living area. Neutrino didn’t hear anything, but he was fairly certain Creet was crying in the hall.
Suddenly feeling the need for some air, Neutrino hurried out the front door and sat down on one of the two carved benches that were just outside the entrance. Many of the homes up and down the alley had similar benches outside their doors. Neutrino closed his eyes and imagined better times when the people might sit here in the evening, after all the work had been done, and talk endlessly while their children played in the street.
It must have been nice to be part of this community, in better times at least.
Now, the slightly glowing blue street was quiet, apart from some gentle whispers wafting down from the balcony of the apartment above. No one was passing time talking with old friends tonight. Everyone was inside grieving or sleeping, perhaps clinging tightly to the family members that they still had.
Neutrino sighed. He enjoyed this chance to be alone. He hadn’t been by himself since he was stranded on that asteroid or moon or whatever, which seemed like ages ago. It had been such a strange day. Sitting alone in this alley, he felt more like his old self. The one who is grateful when he is ignored because it usually means no one is picking on him. He was beginning to think that it was better that way. He didn’t like being the center of attention and he really hated having everyone depending on him. It was an anxious, uncomfortable feeling.
This was all his mother’s fault. If she hadn’t always pushed him to become a Slipstream Messenger, Neutrino would probably be much happier right now as an accountant. Well, maybe not as an accountant, but certainly doing something that didn’t require hurtling himself out into the darkness of space. Why did he want to impress her so much? It’s not like she ever really did anything to deserve it. Maybe all kids just want to be loved by their mothers. Or maybe it was just that she was all he ever had. He didn’t have any other family and he never had many close friends. He didn’t even have a pet for long. As awful as she may have been, she was all he had.
Come on now, be fair, she’s not all that bad; fairly cranky and distant a lot of the time, but there are other times when she can be sweet.
Neutrino remembered baking Universal Space Day cookies with her as a kid. She always let him help with the frosting and the sprinkles. He remembered how her eyes would light up as she recounted the stories of the first space flight, the building of the Slipstream, and of course, the first Messenger, (Neutrino was pretty sure his mother had had a crush on him, even though he died years before she was even born). His mother could really be quite charming in her way. Except that, always
present, was her disappointment at never becoming a Messenger herself.
Neutrino’s late thoughts were interrupted by Creet, who came outside carrying the spoon he had taken from his house above ground.
“There you are. Everythin’ all right?” Creet asked, trying to sound normal even as he sniffled. The bench squeaked a protest at the added weight as Creet lowered himself beside Neutrino.
“I’m okay. How are you?”
“Oh, you know…It’s been a long day.” The whites of Creet’s eyes looked a little bluish from the glow. Or maybe his eyes always looked like that from drinking the water here and working in it every day, and Neutrino just hadn’t noticed. Maybe all the crying had caused it. Creet looked down at the delicately carved serving spoon.
“It’s strange, you know? What happened to Telia, I feel like it’s all some mistake. Part of me can’t help hopin’ that she’s just goin’ to come back like nothin’ happened. I try to imagine my life without her, and I just can’t. I can’t believe that she’s really gone and all I have left of her is a spoon!” Creet began sobbing again, but this time, though powerful, it was much more contained. “It seems so silly, but we only had the one picture and that was much too big to carry. I only had a moment to pick somethin’ so I grabbed the spoon. I gave it to her for a birthday once. She said it was so pretty she wasn’t sure she would be able to use it. Of course, she was exaggeratin’, but that was the great thing about her: she cared so much about everyone. She always made the best of things.” Creet, his face distorted with true grief, twisted his hands around the handle of the spoon. Neutrino didn’t know what to do. He was thoroughly out of his element. So he just sat and listened.
“And my kids…” Creet continued, dragging his already soiled sleeve across his whiskered face. “They don’t even know what to think about it. They can’t really grieve because they don’t know for sure if she’s comin’ back or not. It’s not like she just died, she disappeared. Who knows where? Maybe someone took her and the others and they’ll all be returned safe as snails. But…I think… she’s not comin’ back is she?”
Slipstream Messenger (Neutrino Book 1) Page 6
