by Marie Dry
“No, she can’t. Did the president answer you?” She spent most of her time trying to get through to Ter and reading to Amelagar and wasn’t as up to date with what happened in the world anymore. The danger had passed. Even if the president refused, she doubted Balthazar would harm Earth or Ter.
“He agreed. I will introduce them soon.”
She’d love to be present at that meeting. It hit her then. If she convinced Balthazar to allow her to return to Earth, she wouldn’t be present at that meeting, wouldn’t be reading to Amelagar and celebrating each recovery he made.
“Then you don’t need Ter as a hostage anymore. I promise I will return to you, Balthazar. I just need to get her settled. She deserves to be happy after all she’s been through.” She only guessed at what her sister endured since she refused to speak to Aurora. “With the president marrying Anatu, there will be peace, and we can see each other while I settle Ter.” She hoped they could.
They stared at each other in loaded silence for long endless moments. She could feel the ship humming through the soles of her boots. He visibly struggled with the need to hold onto her, to ensure she could never leave him.
“I do not wish for you to be a bird,” he said at last.
“Well, I never had this overwhelming urge become one,” she teased. As usual, it went right over his head.
“There is an Earth saying. ‘If you love someone, set them free. If you have a bird and you hold it too tight, it smothers and dies. If you let it go and you have been a good owner, it will come back to you.’”
“I see.” She was touched. She didn’t know that he’d been reading so much of Earth’s literature. “Are you setting me free?”
It was what she hoped, prayed, and worked for, and now that it might be in her grasp, she dreaded having to leave him.
He drew her toward him, held her close, and it hurt, but she didn’t complain because she needed him to hold her so tight she’d never be apart from him. At the same time, she needed him to let her go so that she could help Ter. The conflicting needs confused and scared her.
“I will allow you to go and help your sister live on Earth, but you must come back to me.” She could see it cost him to make the offer. He didn’t want to share her with her sister. But he would, because that’s what she wanted.
“Or when I am ready, you can come for me.” She needed him to come for her. She’d hoped her parents would change their minds and come for her and Ter. After she escaped, she’d known she couldn’t go back to them. They’d have sold her again. Until the day they died, she’d hoped they would change. That they would come to her, sober and decent people, and ask her forgiveness. She’d hoped, even knowing it could never be, still she’d hoped that they would change and somehow help her find Ter. “I need you to come for me, Balthazar. To trust me.”
“The last time I trusted you, I ended up immobilized.”
“I know, and I don’t deserve for you to forgive me for that, but I promise you, I will never ever again betray you. If my loyalty to Earth conflicts with your interests, I will try to remain neutral. If not, we will talk it through.”
Again that long silence. She could see he was going to let her go, but it went against his every instinct.
“I will come for you.” It was almost a threat.
The fear was so overwhelming, she felt queasy. He wouldn’t come for her. Once she was gone, he’d move on with his life and forget about her, and she’d be back in her peaceful, sterile world. “When do we have to go?”
She didn’t intend to use such betraying words, they’d slipped out, but he didn’t notice.
“I will take you with a shuttle inside the Earth’s atmosphere and you will go through the inter-dimensional barrier into your office.”
“How will I contact you?”
Now that she was getting her wish, at last, to be free and back in her apartment, back at the foundation, she had the strangest urge to beg him to let her stay. This clingy behavior wasn’t her, wasn’t normal. These months on the ship had changed her.
What she didn’t know yet was if it was for better or worse.
“If you dial number one in your system, I will answer.”
“How did you get into the foundation’s systems?” They had a very advanced, encrypted system. Her private number was unlisted.
His smile was pure arrogance. “We are cyborgs, very few of your systems are closed to us. Even the new ones, the closed cable systems.”
They were in so much trouble if the president refused this arranged marriage. The closed cable systems were installed in key areas. It was supposed to be top secret and impenetrable to the cyborgs. Obviously, they’d underestimated the cyborgs’ abilities and technology.
“How did you find out--never mind? I’m not going to worry about that now. I will go and tell Ter we’re going home.” Even as she said the words, it didn’t feel as if she was going home. She felt like a bird pushed out of its nest, instead.
His lips curved. She could see his enjoyment at having gotten his hands on some of their secrets. “We have all the documentation and schematics of the program to establish communication that cannot be hacked by us.”
She sighed. “You know I will have to talk to the president and tell him.”
“I look forward to his call,” he said.
She tried to smile. “I’ll start packing.”
They stared at each other, neither one of them moving.
“Do you forgive me, Balthazar, for using the picos and the code on you?”
“You tried to use it, you were not successful. I doubt you could do me physical harm.” He gave her one of his direct stares. “Will you do it again?”
“No. Do you forgive me? I assumed, because you didn’t say anything after the president accepted the marriage idea, that you forgave me, but I need to hear you say it.”
“I do not know how to forgive. After we escaped, I made a promise to my people. If anyone harmed me or my cyborgs, I would kill them.”
“Do you want to kill me?”
“Not anymore.”
Him not wanting to kill her for betraying him was the equivalent of a declaration of love. She hoped. If their situations were reversed, if he’d tried to turn her into a mindless shell, she doubted if she’d be able to forgive him. Every time she saw Ter, she wished for a few hours with the people who’d had her and some sharp instruments to use on them.
“I won’t ever do that again, Balthazar. But you have to promise me something as well.”
“What?” he asked, suspicious.
“If anyone acts without the president’s sanction, if your cyborgs are killed or wounded please--”
“I will kill those responsible.”
“No, please. Talk to the president first. Wait four hours, think it through before you react.”
“No.”
“I do not expect you not to defend your cyborgs or not to retaliate. Just promise me you will wait four hours.”
“Why?”
“Making decisions when you are scared or angry is never a good idea. If you wait four hours, you will probably still be angry, but you will be able to think with a clear head. Your decisions will be logical, and you’d be able to think through the consequences.”
“I will think on this.”
She nodded. “I suppose I should go and pack.” Still she didn’t move, couldn’t make herself take a step away from him. Without thinking, without deciding to do it, she flew at him and threw her arms around him. She reached up, he bent down, and their lips crashed together. He lifted her off the floor, both of them putting every bit of desperate emotion seething inside them into the kiss. Aurora wanted to stay like this forever, to kiss him until the real world ceased to exist.
At last, they broke apart and, without a word, he escorted her to Ter’s quarters. Her sister refused to leave the rooms, wouldn’t eat with the rest of them in the mess hall. Aurora had spent sleepless nights, thinking about what that meant, about the time she’d been
held captive.
“I will not see you again until you are ready to return,” Balthazar said.
Before she could answer, he turned on his heel and marched away. She stared after his tall imposing figure. Then, sighing, she went to tell Ter the good news.
Sooner than she thought possible, she and a silent and sullen Ter were at the white house and being debriefed. Ter still wouldn’t look at her or speak to her. Aurora now understood divided loyalties. She was loyal to Earth, would never harm her own people, and at the same time, she’d rather cut her own throat than hurt Balthazar and his people. What surprised her and gave her hope was the way Ter refused to tell them anything. She’d comment on her room on board ship, but wouldn’t talk about anything else. It gave Aurora hope for the future.
It took two weeks of recounting everything she remembered, leaving out the off switch code and a few other details. She didn’t tell them the ship was part organic. Or that they had a human cook and her child aboard. Aurora made sure to be very cooperative and not to resist seeing the psychiatrist the president insisted on.
She couldn’t miss the fact that, after everything, they now didn’t trust her. They arrived at the foundation early on a Wednesday morning. Her assistant stood waiting on the helicopter landing pad.
“Fancy,” Ter sneered.
Aurora hugged her assistant, smiling at her surprise. She’d kept herself separate from the people around her long enough. Now that Ter was free, she could live. “Samantha this is my sister Terra.”
Terra shrugged and didn’t make a move to shake hands.
“There’s a room for you, and clothes.”
Ter didn’t answer.
Inside the room, she’d set aside for Ter when Aurora moved in here as grandmaster, Ter stood and looked around. “It looks like my owner’s place,” she said.
Aurora swallowed. She’d worked with children recovered from slavery. She knew Ter wouldn’t just settle and get on with her life. Fear and anger might stay with her the rest of her life.
“You’re safe here, Ter.”
Ter’s smile was terrible to see. “Nowhere is safe.”
“Who had you, Ter? I have a lot of influence. From the day I escaped, I worked to be in a position to help you.”
“Alone.”
“What?”
“From the day you escaped alone.” Hatred blazed out of Terra’s blue eyes, her face twisted.
Aurora tried to embrace Ter, but her sister flinched away. “I’m so sorry, Ter. I just kept running. I thought you were behind me. By the time I realized you’d stumbled, it was too late.” She’d said this to her so many times since Balthazar rescued her. At first, she’d thought eventually Ter would actually hear her or understand, be able to forgive her. Now she despaired of ever breaking through.
“I went on to be a performing monkey, and you got all this.” Ter made an angry motion at the opulent room.
Aurora’s room was spartan, she slept on the floor, but she supposed Ter didn’t want to hear that. “Tell me who had you. I’ll have them arrested.” From the little Ter said, it sounded as if some sick people made her play the violin for them while they did their sick acts.
Ter’s smile was twisted. “The tinners killed them all. They were thorough.”
Aurora was stunned. He’d told her about the one man he killed, and she’d assumed that was the only one he’d executed. She should’ve realized that’s what Balthazar would do. And after all her preaching about not killing humans hastily, she was fiercely glad they got what they deserved.
At night, she went to her apartment and instead of relaxing her, the yoga sessions made her miss Balthazar and his endless questions. When she meditated, she expected to hear him asking why she meditated and didn’t just sleep. And when she ate, she missed Marysol’s meals, eaten in the company of cyborgs trying desperately to have conversations and be normal people.
“I can’t change what happened to you, Ter. All I can do is move on and try to help you move on as well.”
The truth of her own words hit her like a giant cyborg punch. She’d never see forgiveness in Ter’s eyes. A few months ago, that would’ve destroyed her. All she could do now was to try to forgive herself, move on. Balthazar was right. If she hadn’t kept running, she and Ter both would’ve been caught.
“I knew it wouldn’t be long before you wanted me gone.” In spite of her aggressive words, her little sister looked frightened.
“The reality is if I’d stopped, if I didn’t get away, we’d both be slaves with no hope of escape.” Because she ran, they were both free now. She had to believe that, and that, eventually, she and Ter would have a relationship again.
Terra shrugged. “I suppose,” she said sullenly.
Aurora was careful not to react, not to show her elation. This was the first time Ter had shown any willingness to move on.
“Mom and Dad?” Ter asked.
“Killed, and overdosed.”
Terra didn’t ask for any more details, and Aurora was glad. She’d tried really hard to forget what her parents were. What they’d done to them.
“If there’s any justice, they’re burning in hell. And don’t try to tell me wishing that harms only myself,” Ter said.
Aurora sighed and went to stand at the window of Terra’s bedroom. Her sister had ventured outside, but only for minutes at a time. “I can’t tell you that. Not a day went by while I searched for you that I didn’t wish them burning in hell.” She turned to face her. “Now I’m going to try my best to forget they ever existed. I want to make them so insignificant I can’t be bothered to even think about them.”
“I can live with that.” Terra took a visible breath. “I have to go.”
Aurora forced herself to remain calm, not to insist Ter stay where she could keep her safe. “Where do you want to go?”
Terra shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d like to find a job and meet people my own age. I have to learn to stand on my own feet.”
“The foundation has scholarships for people we rescue from slavery. You could study, decide what you want to do with your life. When you qualify, you’d be able to find a good job.”
“I suppose that sounds all right,” Ter mumbled.
***
It took only a few days to grant Terra the scholarship and arrange for her to have a room in one of the campus dorms.
Aurora had told Terra that if she ever wanted to have her own space, she’d rent a flat for her.
They stood in front of the foundation, the driver waiting to take Terra to her new life.
Aurora gave Ter a careful hug. She didn’t like to be touched, and Aurora respected that. “I’ll find someone to teach you to drive, and--”
Ter held up her hand. “No, from now on I decide what I do.”
Maybe Ter would be all right. And who knew? Maybe one day they could be sisters again. “All right, but please call me if you need anything. Even if I’m on the ship, I will give Balthazar hell until he lets me come to you.”
Please let me be back with Balthazar on the ship by then.
A small smile flitted over Ter’s lips. She got into the car without looking back, and Aurora stood watching her blonde head through the back window until the car was out of sight.
She went back inside and called Samantha. They had a lot to do if she wanted to run the foundation mostly from the ship. Balthazar would never agree to live at the foundation, and she couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t feel safe.
She wanted to call Balthazar, beg him to come get her, but she was responsible for an organization that helped thousands of children each year. It had become her life’s work, and she couldn’t give it up. She could delegate more. During her stay on the ship, her staff had to jump in and do a lot of the work she normally did. Now she worked such long hours to get everything in place that she fell into bed each night and was asleep before she could miss Balthazar holding her.
A month later, she dialed the number that had tempted her every day. He answered i
mmediately. His features looked even more alien, now that she hadn’t seen him for a while. He’d never looked this good to her. Her heart beat so loud in her ears, she barely heard her own voice. “Come for me, please, Balthazar.”
“I am there.”
CHAPTER 22
Aurora checked the music she’d programmed. It had taken her hours to find the right song to download. Even knowing she found the right one, she still had to resist the urge to search until she drove herself crazy trying to find the perfect music. The haunting melody with an underlying rhythm that spoke of eastern spices and exotic dancing women was the perfect choice. It was just nerves that made her want to double check everything.
She went to the media center on the wall and punched the number for the temperamental chef she’d hired for the night.
He sighed theatrically when he answered. “I have everything ready, madame, the cheese for the onion soup will be out of this world, and the savory buckwheat crepes will be a delightful surprise.” He glared at her. “If I am allowed to prepare it in peace.”
Aurora held up her hands. “Just checking, I won’t bother you again.” She couldn’t resist adding, “You will bring it directly when I buzz you?”
His glare became positively fierce, and she quickly rang off.
They’d eat a sumptuous feast. Tonight, she wanted Balthazar to experience everything. Good food, music, Earth culture. It should be a memory both of them cherished in the years ahead.
The chef was right, if she left him to do his job, they’d have a culinary delight before they retired to bed. Her breathing shortened. Would he want to make love with her? It had been so long. She moved a hand to her hair, but stopped in mid-air. Her hair was loose, a symbol of the new Aurora, of freedom. She didn’t want to turn it into a disheveled mess before he even got here.
Aurora nibbled her bottom lip with her teeth and then, with a sigh, checked her lip gloss. The little girl inside her, who had never been able to accept that her parents sold her and never came back for her, doubted that Balthazar would actually come. It was risky for him to come to Earth. She had no doubt if the president could manage to capture Balthazar and hold him where the other cyborgs couldn’t get to him, the man wouldn’t hesitate.
