The UnFolding Collection Three

by S. K. Randolph

  Charid jumped to the floor, excitement boiling. He pulled Esta to her feet. “Come on, Momee. It’s time!”

  Tademori nodded them through. As the door eased shut, the man at the desk barked. “Did you sense anything?”

  The second man answered, “No, sir. Not one thing.”

  While Charid’s delight at being aboard the Meti Chala II distracted the liaison officer, Esta calmed her rising concern that El Stroman officials would somehow convince the Metchalians to withdraw their protection.

  At their small stateroom, Tademori waved them ahead and followed them inside. Taking out a box half the size of her palm, she pressed a button, watched intently, and slipped it back in her pocket. She smiled. “We can talk. My name is Zyna. I’m Eleo Predan, and I know Mylos. He asked me to help you in any way I can. If you need me, the yellow button on your control console will let me know.”

  She showed them how to use the control panel, answered a barrage of questions from Charid, and reminded them to stay in their cabin until after take-off.

  The door slid shut. Esta sank onto a chair. “I need a hug, little man.”

  Charid obliged and planted a wet kiss on her cheek. “We are on the ship, Momee!”

  She studied his eager upturned face. What is different about you? Shaggy, straight black hair, dark chestnut eyes, fair skin… She shrugged. “Shall we explore our stateroom?”

  “Do you think there’s something to eat?”

  She laughed. “Indeed, I do. Let’s see what we can find.”

  They discovered recessed bunks, one above the other, hidden behind sliding panels on the wall. Under the bottom bunk, an inset switch released the catches on four drawers. Further exploration showed them a small room containing a cleansing stall and commode area. A communal space with a built-in couch and two chairs surrounding a low, round table occupied one corner of the room.

  Putting his hands on his hips, Charid surveyed their quarters and walked to a panel on the wall next to a foldable table. “Momee, what about here?”

  Esta joined him and examined the panel. The small screen beside it provided instructions and a list of available foods. She punched in two codes and pressed the green square. After a brief pause and a soft buzz, the panel slid open.

  Charid clapped his hands and laughed. “Oh, Momee, look!”

  Esta removed a tray bearing gleaming glasses of fruit drink and small bowls of pudding and carried it to the round table. “Won’t you join me, Charid Darine?”

  He bounced onto the couch and picked up a spoon. “What do you think the pudding tastes like?”

  Esta laughed. “Guess we’ll have to try it.”

  Charid took a bite and grinned. “So good, Momee. Taste it.”

  Scooping up a small spoonful, Esta took a tentative nibble. Smooth sweetness rolled down her throat. “I’ve never tasted anything like it. What do you think?”

  “This moment right now is the best moment ever, Momee. That’s what I think.”

  Somewhat surprised by her small son’s wisdom, she raised her juice glass. “A toast…to loving each moment as it comes.”

  He tapped her glass, took a deep drink, and sighed. “We’re finally on the ship.”

  Exploring and learning the ways of living aboard an inter-universal passenger ship helped the first few turnings to pass quickly. In the beginning, Esta scrutinized every new person she met, continually looked over her shoulder, and refused to leave Charid alone, even in the Children’s Center, where she had to sign him in and out and where several Metchalian aids were always in attendance.

  Zyna had told her the trip to the Clenaba Rolas System, the closest solar system of any size on the far side of DéCussate, would take almost two sun cycles. The Meti Chala II’s first stop would be the planet of RewFaar. Esta had made note of the trip details and decided her best bet lay in living each day as it came.

  She and Charid soon established a rhythm to their turnings. He spent most mornings at the Children’s Center, enjoying organized play and, more important to Esta, learning. She joined a women’s group. Each member who wished to present a workshop about something they enjoyed was encouraged to do so. Journal Writing, A Healing Art caught Esta’s interest. After the well-scripted presentation, she returned to her quarters in a thoughtful mood. Someday, I will write a journal about the events in my life. I hope it will be as healing as the presenter suggested.

  One morning near the end of the trip, she strolled along the passageway and stopped to chat with a woman whom she had met at the Children’s Center. They conversed casually about their similar-aged sons and shared funny stories about their own childhoods. Laughing at a particularly delightful story Esta came to the realization of two separate things: she hadn’t laughed in a long time, and the woman sharing the story was Pheet Adolan.

  After she and Charid returned to the stateroom, he flipped on the view screen to watch space, time, and stars gliding by. She sat beside him, her thoughts wandering back to the conversation. I have always distrusted the Pheet Adole. A search of her memory left her frowning. Why? Why would I hate the people I grew up with? My papers state that Charid and I are Pheet Adole. Yet I do not feel the truth in the words. Are we truly from El SyrTundi?

  Charid tugged at her arm. “Momee, where did you go?”

  “Go? Ohhhhh. I was dream-turning about—” His eager smile stopped her. “Do you need something?”

  “I met a really nice girl in the common space. Her grandmaman is interested in meeting you. Can we eat evening meal in the dining hall?” He shot her a sheepish grin. “My tummy is talking.”

  “Oh, Charid, you do make me giggle. Yes, we can eat in the dining hall. Change your shirt and wash up. Then we’ll go.”

  When they arrived at the entrance, the waiter escorted them to a small, private alcove. Esta hesitated. “I think there must be a mistake. This isn’t our usual table.”

  “It’s not a mistake, my dear.” An elderly woman accompanied by a girl of perhaps eighteen sun cycles walked up to the table and smiled up at the waiter. “Thank you, Ilan. Please bring a seafood starter and sparkling water.”

  He bowed and hurried away.

  The younger woman assisted her companion to a chair facing the room and took the seat next to her.

  While Esta and Charid made themselves comfortable, their hostess adjusted her long skirt and lifted an elegant lorgnette. Magnified violet eyes regarded them, first one and then the other. “I am Gwynnith Viola Torin, and this is my granddaughter, Fianna Gwynn Palmira. We are delighted you could join us for evening meal.”

  28

  Jaradee’s Legacy

  Part 2 - Escape

  D inner, both the food and the conversation, proved to be excellent. When the dessert dishes had been cleared, Tori turned to Gwynn. “Why don’t you and Charid go for a walk. Esta and I will meet you in the Observatory.” She glanced at Esta. “In a full circle.”

  Charid jumped to his feet. “I love the Observatory. May I go, Momee?”

  Esta laughed. “You may. Please do what Gwynn asks, and have fun.” She gave Gwynn a smile of thanks and returned her attention to Tori.

  The elderly woman folded her lap cloth and placed it on the table. Her fingers brushed Esta’s hand.

  A tingling sensation skipped up Esta’s spine, pooled at the occipital, and spread like an army of ants over her skull. Memories of another life, her true life, replicated the night dome in her mind. A shooting star streaked across her line of vision and extinguished. Her vision cleared. Tori came into focus.

  Restraining the impulse to glance over her shoulder, she interlaced her fingers and breathed a sigh of acceptance and gratitude. “Thank you, Tori. Will Charid remember anything from his childhood?”

  Wrinkled fingers traced the fold in the lap cloth. “He will not. His time on the ship…yes. His birth-mate…no. Once you are safe on your new home planet, SaHal’s knowledge will resurface. Time will provide the answers to the puzzle of his personal destiny. The Pheet Adole will n
ot stop searching for him.”

  Tori placed a gold ring on the table. A purple stone gleamed in a nest of delicate filigree. “This is yours. Mylos had Nioka and Tazio create it for you. If you should return to El Stroma, as I believe you wish to do, it will absorb your memories of Charid and where he resides. Mylos knows how to unlock the information should you require it. Do you have questions for me?”

  “Where do you go from here? Will you return to our home planet?”

  Sadness etched the lines in her face deeper. “We will never return. It has become a cruel place and will only grow worse. You and I and those on this ship left ahead of the maelstrom. If the Eleo Predan people are to survive, they must leave their home planet and secret their ancestral roots on other worlds. I am taking Gwynn to KcernFensia, where she will marry a good man, a man whose father had the forethought to remove his family at the first hint of Lusktar Rados’ plan for genocide.” She signaled the waiter. “We arrive in RewFaar tomorrow. The man who will help you is Arien Vallon. He wears the sign of the raven on his left wrist.”

  The waiter arrived. “You require something, Madame?”

  Offering a small pouch, she smiled. “This is for you. Thank you for taking such good care of my granddaughter and me.”

  As he took it, her fingers brushed his. Confusion flickered and died. He bowed and walked away.

  Tori sighed. “He will only a remember an old woman who gave him a gift.” She remained seated. “One more thing, Esta. You must maintain your charade until you are safe. Keep your mind centered on the present moment. Do not allow yourself to look back. Our lives, yours, mine, Charid’s and Gwynn’s, depend on your discretion and control.”

  “I understand.” Glancing at the entrance, she noted a man talking to the steward. His gaze darted her direction before he walked from the room.

  Tori pushed back her chair. “Let’s find the young people.”

  True to her word, Esta kept her thoughts centered on preparing to debark the next morning. The ship, she had been informed, would begin its orbit during the night.

  Charid bounced into her line of vision. Excitement made him fidget and fiddle and get underfoot.

  “Please, Charid, turn on the view screen. This will be your last opportunity to enjoy it.”

  “I don’t think I can sit still, Momee. Aren’t you excited? We have been on the ship for such a long time.” He became matter-a-fact. “When we boarded in El Stroma, I was a little child only four sun cycles. Now, I am six!”

  Esta gave him a good-natured swat on the bottom. “Go or I will put you to work.”

  An impish grin, always an indication of mischief, tugged the corner of his mouth. “I can help.”

  She swept toward him.

  He skipped to the view screen, touched the panel, and flopped down on the couch.

  She returned to her packing and the occasional random thought demanding her attention. She and Charid had bid Tori and Gwynn goodbye in the Observatory. They would not see them again. Loneliness washed over her. She looked at Charid. We have been surrounded by people and safe for two sun cycles. Soon, we will be on our own and alone. The name Arien Vallon whispered through her thoughts.

  When Charid finally wore himself out and fell asleep, she settled on the built-in couch. The stateroom, quiet for the first time since their return from dining, had been their home for almost two sun cycles. Their unknown destination, a precaution she had agreed to, grew ever closer. What will we find there? And what of events on El Stroma? Rayn and Kuparak? Mylos? Thinking about him stirred up a tempest of emotions. Not remembering had been easier.

  The yellow light on the console blinked once…twice. Esta hurried to the panel and touched a green light. The door slid open. Zyna stepped through; the door whooshed shut.

  Pulling out the small black box, she pressed a button, rotated, and put it back in her pocket. “It’s almost time. Charid?”

  “Sleeping, but dressed and ready to go.”

  She lowered her muscular frame onto the couch. “Good. Sit. I have some things to share.”

  Esta joined her. “Things?”

  “The shuttle will be leaving for RewFaar in four time-circles. Vasrosi supporters will help you to transfer to a jumper craft scheduled to depart as soon as you and Charid are onboard. Be careful and keep your mind centered on Esta Mae until you are at your destination. We’re fairly certain we have a Klutarse masquerading as a businessman on Meti Chala II. We suspect he is accompanied by a SorTech. So, please be careful.”

  Zyna leaned closer. “Mylos asked me to deliver this message: Zyna and her team will help you come back to El Stroma if you wish. Take care of yourself. I love you, Floree.”

  Controlling the desire to whoop for joy, she focused on her primary concern. “What of Charid?”

  “We have found a couple in your new home who would be thrilled to adopt Charid. They’re good people. Our contact on the surface, will meet you at the drop site and take you and Charid to meet them. If you are comfortable and like the couple, we will collect you when we swing by to pick up Arien in about three moon cycles.”

  “Who is Arien?”

  “He’s a Vasrosi based on the planet of RewFaar. His assignment is to pave the way for you and Charid and to make sure you’re safe in your new home.”

  Esta regarded Zyna. “His second name is Vallon, correct?”

  “It is.”

  “I had no idea Vasrosi had such a long reach.”

  Zyna smiled, her first since she walked into the stateroom. “Kuparak didn’t waste the trip back to El Stroma after he left Tala on Thera. Every place the return ship stopped, he made contacts. Our people must leave El Stroma or die, and they’ll need help to do it.” She stretched and stood up. “I have to go. I suggest a quick nap. Be careful and be safe.”

  Esta stared at the door, her thoughts in a jumble. “Mylos loves me! I can go back to El Stroma.” A yawn consumed her. “Put Floree’s life away. You are Esta, and Esta needs to nap.”

  The ship’s announcement system, blared. “Passengers disembarking on RewFaar prepare to board the shuttle on level two. RewFaaran passengers—”

  The stateroom door slid shut behind them. Charid pranced ahead, bumped into a man standing in the hall, and skidded to a stop.

  “I am sorry, sir.”

  “Quite alright, young man. You seem a bit excited.”

  Esta joined them and clasped Charid’s hand. “Excuse us. We have friends to see off.” She hurried to the lift. Where have I seen him before?

  In the waiting area, she straightened Charid’s jacket and smoothed his hair. “Have you ever seen the man you bumped into before?”

  He nodded. “He’s been watching us play at the Children’s Center for the past few turnings. He even asked me my name.”

  Esta frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Charid shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”

  “Oh, Charid.” She hugged him. From beneath her lashes, she searched the area. The absence of the strange man didn’t make her feel any better.

  A disembodied voice blasted through the waiting area. “Please form a line. Have your papers in hand.”

  Esta clutched their paperwork. “Hold onto my skirt, Charid. Don’t let go no matter what. If you see the man, yank twice.”

  “Yes, Momee.”

  The passengers filed onto the shuttle, strapped into their seats, and prepared for take-off.

  Charid squirmed to look one way, waved at a friend, and then twisted the other way. “I don’t see him.”

  The woman next to them glared.

  Esta caught his arm. “Sit still. We’ll look when we’re on the ground.”

  Sulky but quiet, he settled in his seat.

  The shuttle exited the ship with the smoothness of silk. Charid succumbed to excitement-engendered fatigue and napped. Esta forced her busy thoughts into silence and stared at the seat back in front of her.

  Cushioned by a blast of air, the shuttle landed. The voice announced directions
. People filed down the aisles and into a long tunnel. At the end, a steward directed them to an entry window. A uniformed man shuffled through their papers, applied a stamp, and directed them to a door marked Declarations.

  Esta’s calm façade masked her nervousness. Why is the man here? Why his interest in Charid? Is he the Klutarse?

  The Declarations officer reviewed her list of possessions and handed it back. “Anything else to declare?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I’m afraid we will need to take a closer look.” The officer’s pleasant demeanor and unwavering gaze did little to ease the knot in her stomach. He beckoned a young man forward. “Please take Madame Darine and her son to room three.” He nodded to Esta. “Thank you for your patience.” His attention moved to the next person in line.

  Esta kept her fear in check and gripped Charid’s hand. A man in a RewFaaran military uniform met them at the door to room three, gave their escort a dismissive nod, and ushered them inside. “This way please.” Bypassing the desk, he walked to an exit at the back of the room.

  A moment of panic made her hesitate. He reached for the door handle, exposing a raven tattoo on the inside of his wrist. Her gaze flew to his face. He mouthed the words Arien Vallon , pushed the door open, and motioned them ahead of him. A military vehicle gleamed in the dim light. A young soldier stood at attention beside it.

  “We got word you’re being followed.” He looked at Charid. “How quiet can you be?”

  “Very quiet, sir.”

  “Good man. Grantese Tyler is going to hide you. Your maman will change her clothes and ride up front. If we are stopped, you pretend you’re a mouse.”

  The Grantese and Charid hurried to the back of the truck.

  Speculative brown eyes regarded her. “On RewFaar women are never seen in a military vehicle. Do you think you can impersonated a soldier?”

  Esta saluted. “Yes, sir. I can, sir.”