Tag: literature

Her Last Chance 6

SIX

She awoke at planetrise. She didn’t know when her rhythms had begun to synch with that of the ice giant this station orbited. Perhaps that was the way of space travelers. At first Granny was surprised to find herself curled around a small warm body. Then she remembered Dr. Jensen coming to her with her nightmare, and then the child came.

She scooted out of bed with the ease of a lifetime of practice. Dr. Jensen nestled close to little Gita as she tucked the blankets around them. She smiled. They needed this bonding experience,

She dressed lightly and proceeded to the Portal. The Visitor was still guarded, but she allowed her to speak some words of comfort tonight before she moved on. The market had her provisions ready for pickup. They could have been delivered to her quarters, but she needed to get out this one night. Part of this was selfish, something to make believe she was making an extra effort for her guests. And honestly, she didn’t mind escaping the walls of her quarters.

She carried two bags in her arms while an automated cart dogged her ankles, loaded with five more parcels, which was when she bumped into a diminutive Japanese teen—indeed, an old acquaintance. “Hoichi?” she exclaimed.

His puzzled gaze evaporated at once, superseded by an ear-to-ear grin. “Granny!” he cried, ducking under her chin to sweep her into a hug. They rocked happily together for several seconds. “I never expected to see you here!”

“Likewise,” she smiled. “How did you–?”

“Fong is practicing in this District! I’m clerking for her.”

“I’m glad you’re still together. Practicing, you say? It’s only been six weeks. What has she been practicing?”

Hoichi staggered back, with a stare akin to panic. ‘Six—it’s only been six weeks for—” Before she could inquire further, or even shift one bag in her arms, he was already backpedaling toward the main corridor. “I-I-I have to get back, Fong’s expecting me to—I’ll tell her you called—oh dear!” and he darted into the bowels of the station before she could say another syllable.

These middle of the night spells were not unusual for Lianna. It was a useful instinct she retained from those months alone on the Lost Ship. At first she was only aware of Granny’s absence, of the pillows piled around her head and shoulders. Then her attention was riveted by the small body nestled around her. She gazed down on the sleepy body pressed to her shoulder, and somehow nothing else mattered in the universe. She could easily spend a lifetime watching her nostrils softly exhaling on her skin, the circle of coils cinching tight around her waist, an uncomfortable reminder of what an extraordinary child she was.

Gita’s long lashes batted, and her deep green eyes glowed in the darkness. By that light she signed, “are we going to be okay?”

Lianna nodded. “Yeah, baby.” What would Fayd say? “This will pass. Don’t worry, I’ll make this right for you.”

Sign: “Promise?”

Sign: “Yes. I’ve got to go. I want to see what Granny’s up to. I’m gonna set you down on the bed, okay?”

Gita nodded. Reluctantly her coils eased off of Lianna’s middle, curling up beneath the blankets as Lianna set her among Granny’s pillows. She tucked her securely into the blankets, then blew her a goodnight kiss before padding into the living area.

Granny hadn’t noticed her approach. Her attention seemed fixed on the mirror hanging beside the spare bedroom door, her body shuffling back and forth while muttering, “People are crazy and times are strange…” Yet her reflection was not that of the brown skinned woman before her, but that of a blue skinned giant with red eyes and many arms—

Lianna blinked, but the illusion remained. Granny seemed oblivious to it, to everything until Lianna tapped her on the shoulder. She whirled with a yelp, snatching the headset off her head. Lianna leaned sideways, gazing past her. The back of Granny’s head and shoulders showed in the glass, and nothing else. “Whatcha doing?” Lianna asked.

“Dancing,” Granny squeaked. In a normal voice she continued, “I hope I haven’t disturbed you.”

“No, I just…” Lianna peered at the mirror again, but only their images remained. “Do you always go off in the middle of the night to…dance?”

Granny shrugged. “Why not? You know how it is. Sometimes you just need to.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Surely you’ve just wanted to, haven’t you, just to relax?”

“I…I don’t dance.”

Granny’s mouth turned upside down. “You’ve never danced?”

“Not exactly. I never had the time.”

Now the frown tightened into a full-blown scowl. “Who had done this to you? I want their names!”

In spite of herself, Lianna started to giggle. “Huh. You’re the second person to ask me that.”

“Who was the first?”

Lianna stopped gigging, suddenly looking away. “Yeah, well…she was a goddess. She might have even been my mother.”

Granny’s features softened, her cheeks softening with a smile. “It’s not that hard. Let me show you. Stand over here with me, I’ll keep it simple,”

Lianna shuffled to her side, staring at the floor until Granny’s hand tipped her chin up. “Start with planting your right foot firmly, then extend your left leg in front of you—”

“Like this?”

“Yes and now reverse—jump as you switch feet. And reverse—jump and switch your feet in one fluid motion. Follow me.”

Lianna extended her left leg, stiffly, bouncing on her right leg, before switching legs, and nearly toppling over. “I’m sorry, I-I—”

“Don’t worry, you just need a little rhythm. Perhaps this’ll help.” She slid the headgear gingerly around Lianna’s ears, adjusting them to her head. “Hear that?”

At first it was only the drumbeat. Then the guitar kicked in, a steady thrum that sent a twitch to her legs. “Is this…?”

“Music, baby, like we haven’t heard in decades. Oh, we’ve so much to teach you.. come on, jump as you switch—baby, you’ve got feet of lead.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve never had to…”

“Don’t apologize. Practice. Let your movements be light, like…like moonwalking in half normal gravity.”

“Like a spacewalk?” She could do that. At first the back-and-forth shuffle on one leg seemed awkward. The more she did it with Granny whispering encouragement beside her, the easier it came to her. Her feet followed the steady beat and the guitar leading her on. “Sorry, I’m not very good at this,” Lianna said.

“You’re doing fine.” She might have done better if not for the battering at the door.

Lianna’s heart seemed to triple-beat. Granny raised her hand for silence. They both waited and then came another tattoo. Without a word Granny shooed Lianna back towards the bedroom, where Gita stood, rubbing her eyes. Turning to the door, she paused to fluff her boobs before touching the entry code.

The door whooshed aside, startling the dozen FAITH members standing on her threshold, with both Pastor Ludden and Reverend Bienbouw facing her. She greeted them with a smile, leaning on the door frame as her visitors shuffled nervously. “One, two…twelve of you? How disciple of you. Well, there’s not much to go around but I’m happy to share.”

“We’re not here for that, slut!” a boy in the rear—Nick, was it? —called.

Granny’s hand was open behind her back. While Lianna watched, her kettle floated across the apartment, with the handle rotating into her hand. She brought the kettle around to present to her guests. “I meant tea. What did YOU think I was offering?”

“He thought nothing,” Bienbouw interjected. “Absolutely nothing,” he reiterated to his fuming son. “We understand that you’re harboring Dr. Jensen.”

‘Someone had to,” she shrugged. “It seems some hairlips made it impossible for her to return to her ship.”

“Yes, that was a misunderstanding—”

‘It was a mob thirsty for blood. She was lucky to get here alive, not to mention what those maniacs would’ve done to her child.” She pushed off the door, fixing the crowd with a glare. “Exactly what did you intend for the child?”

“Ma’am, I don’t understand your accusation,” Ludden said. “We meant the wee one no harm. We are patrons of the Lord Christ.”

“That’s hardly reassuring. My experience has been that people are ready and willing to inflict all manner of harm on children if they’re not perceived as ‘one of us’. I’m surprised how easy it’s been to justify child butchery in the name of someone’s god.”

“Pa, we don’t have to listen to this—”

“Quiet, boy,” Bienbouw growled. But his frown was distracted. “I know you,” he said.

“I doubt that,” Granny said, “unless you been haunting old reels.”

Nick pushed through the gathering, his face a mask of hate as he stood behind his father. “We know she’s in there, Pa! I say we—”

Lianna clutched Gita to her hip. For her part Granny sighed, raised her right hand, and snapped her fingers. The sound actually seemed muted, but the effect was immediate. All of the congregants’ knees buckled, and then half of them, including Nick, flopped to the deck.

Granny smirked at the two reverends’ panic-stricken stares. “Huh. Someone hadn’t gotten enough sleep. You may want to carry these young fellows back to their bunks.”

Reverend Bienbouw barely seemed conscious of what had just transpired. His eyes were still glued on Granny. “I’ve seen you,” he insisted before bending over his son. It was only after the door slammed on her uninvited guests that Granny allowed herself to sag over her knees, “Hey, are you okay?” Lianna asked.

Granny nodded, though her back was coated in perspiration. “It’s too early for me to be dealing with these idiots. Wake me in a few hours, would you?”

As it happened, Gita ambled out of the bedroom as Granny was stumbling in. Her pet bat Gordon poked its head around her shoulder as Gita read from the book she carried. The cover was a deep maroon with a faux leather texture. “Whatcha got, sweetie?”

At first Gita extended the book in her small hands, but when Lianna only shrugged her incomprehension, she tucked the book under her arm. Then she signed some very curious questions. “What do you mean, discrepancies?”

Gita answered by bouncing onto the lounge, patting the cushion beside her. Once Lianna settled beside her, she took the book. Gita leaned over flipping through the early pages, then turned it over to the back. Lianna skipped back to the beginning, scanning each page. She read quickly, even with Gita’s serpentine trunk weighing down on her lap. She recalled everything, as she’d told Granny, and her reading comprehension had always been excellent. But damn, that child was sharp. How did this make sense?

Gita cozied into the arms of the lounge under a blanket, Gordon nestling beneath her hair and over her neck. As her trunk lay across Lianna’s legs, she asked, “Why are humans so cruel to their children?”

Lianna huffed. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, we’re not like that anymore. Centuries ago when we were more primitive it was easy to dismiss other people, other races as savages, or something less than human. One thing they taught me at the Observatory, people are the same everywhere, whatever they believe. They all want their children to grow up happy, they all want to support their families without whatever state they’re in meddling in their lives.”

(Sign) “They haven’t left you alone, though.”

“No, I guess not.”

(Sign) “I was scared they were gonna hurt you.”

She leaned in and rubbed Gita’s nose with her own. “I’ll try not to get hurt in the future, okay? Now let’s see what this book has to tell us.”

“Where did you get that?”

Lianna flinched. She hadn’t heard Granny coming out of the bedroom until she was looming over her. “What time is it?” she stammered.

“Late morning,” Granny frowned down on her. “Where?”

“Gita brought it to me, with questions,” Lianna replied, passing the book back to her host. “It’s a very detailed chronicle of misery.”

“It took a lifetime to gather,” Granny nodded, hugging it to her chest. She sighed, cocking her head. “What troubles you about it?”

“Some curious discrepancies.” Lianna pushed off the cushion, lifting Gita before settling her comfortably back on the lounge. “She’s gonna be long when she grows up…I had journals like that in school. We used them exclusively at the observatory. They register direct entries or allow for written posts. Either way the journal makes an automatic entry for the date and time a given post is entered. Each date, each hour is accurately recorded.”

Granny nodded, waiting. “A lot of these entries have contemporaneous dates, spread over the most recent decades. Then it stops, for a period of five years. Now, when it resumes, for the bulk of these entries, the dates…”

“Go on.”

Lianna snatched the book back, flipping through to the middle and rapidly on through the pages. ”The journal has been registering posts that are hundreds of years out of date. Deaths recorded as they happened, five hundred years ago, before you were even born. The book is not defective. I know that.”

Gently Granny peeled the book from Lianna’s suddenly sweaty hands. “No, it’s not defective. And the stories are all true. I was there when each of them died.”

“How? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t suppose you would. I told you, I’ve been travelling.”

“Yeah, but no one’s seen you in 20 years—”

“TIME travelling.”

Lianna stepped back, staring at the volume she cradled in her hands. The dates— “No, that’s not right. Nobody on Earth is going to experiment with temporal physics, not after Moscow.”

“But you’ve lived extraordinary times. You’ve crossed the event horizon of—”

Lianna threw her hands up. “I was lured there! I-it was stupid! I wanted to make damn sure that planet was destroyed! Everybody died on the Naga Sentry, never having got to see it. I didn’t think—I didn’t think they were real.”

Granny pushed the tip of Gita’s tail to the back of the lounge, patting the cushion beside her   as she sat. “Speak to me, child.”

She joined her, nerves all atingle. “It was all in my parents’ journals, all the speculation connecting Hindu cosmology to physics. They thought there might be more literal truth to it than standard cosmologists attributed to it. That was why they booked passage on the Lost Ship. It was supposed to be the beginning of a lifetime of exploration.

“My dad was there, on a spiritual plane inside the event horizon, at least his spirit, and so was my mom, kind of. I-I forgave him. I think that was part of why I was there. It wasn’t his fault, all the adults went insane. Mom sent him on his way…to atone. His atman may go through many cycles of samsara before the cycle is broken…look, what you’re asking me to believe is fantastical, even compared to what I’ve experienced. I can’t accept that without some solid evidence in support of your claim.”

“Nor would I expect you to. Twenty years ago, I was approached to join a mission of mercy. Kate was there, as were others I’ve come to call friend. They’re all gifted  people, working anonymously. I never expected it to go on for so long, but…” Granny shrugged.

“But your family seemed so important in your life. How could you give them up–?”

“They didn’t need me anymore. My sons were all grown up, with children of their own. My husband was dead. I needed a change. Now,” she smiled, laying the book on an end table. “How about breakfast?”

She and Gita joined her as she drained a bowl of chickpeas she’d been soaking overnight. This she added to a processor, along with the leaves of parsley and cilantro Gita passed to her as she requested. To this she piled in an onion, shallot, chili powder, garlic, cumin and coriander, oil, plus a dash of baking powder. Once that was sufficiently ground, they shaped the batter into balls. Lianna and Gita retreated to the living area while Granny fried them in small batches. Before long she padded to them with a serving of crispy golden brown falafel balls over fresh salad. The interior was as savory as she remembered.

“This is perfect,” Lianna said around a mouthful of falafel. “How did you know?”

Granny set her drink aside. “An old Palestinian mother taught me her family’s recipe. It’d been handed down for generations since the Nakba, and lost when she died.”

Lianna’s drink fumbled in her hand, but she kept it from spilling to the floor. Granny continued. “That’s what I do. No one explained what my power was good for, or even what it was, when I was Gita’s age. I was told to hide it and pretend I was like everyone else, even when I felt like a freak. I didn’t understand how I could be useful until my first trip to Palestine.

“The first spirit I came into contact with was a fifteen-year-old American girl named Sydney. She opened a window onto a nation long past, from a time when her proud land was fracturing into separate confederacies. I told you I was a spiritualist. I’m able to observe the living energy of things, alive or not.

“It’d been in the third year of my marriage that a sister spiritualist, a Spaniard named Yolande invited me on a pilgrimage. We saw no harm in it, so we traveled with her to Palestine. Yolande was gifted as I was, and she explained we were going to bring peace to the souls of the martyrs.

“Gods, if only it’d been so simple. Stepping off the boat at Jaffa, and the sight of so many lost souls, so many mothers and children…it was a fist between the eyes. Most of them didn’t realize they were—and the stories–!

“I could only stay a few days. Then I had to flee. There were so many needing me, pawing at my skirts, crying for their fathers, could I feed them and their brothers—well, I went back a year later. I was too ashamed not to. Yolande understood. It had been hard the first time she undertook the pilgrimage. I managed ten days the second time, and I remembered their stories about harvesting olives, and the occupation. We went back, sometimes twice a year. They needed us to hear their stories and share them in their own words so that they were never forgotten.”

Lianna reached across the end table to clutch Granny’s hand. “You must have heard hundreds of stories.”

“Thousands. I’ve given peace to so many, posted their stories to the Palestinian Remembrance Log in Beirut. But there are so many more. Two, three of us are not enough to do it all in a single lifetime.”

“I grew up on those stories,” Lianna said. “Late nights when I was hiding in the calibration chamber, Fayd would tell me stories about his family, their survival in the Diaspora. He saved the best stories for tucking me in at bedtime.

“Everybody at the Observatory was always talking about family. I swear, Fayd’s eyes glowed when he spoke of their get togethers, their feasts and celebrations. The Professor, even Lady Smirnoff, that jealous old bag, they all had relations. Every time someone visited the station, they would always ask, where is your family?

“The Professor kept all my parents’ things in a storage bin at the far end of the Observatory, and at a very young age, I’d sneak off while the Professor was sleeping, and I’d read through their journals. It was one way to remember them. Well, the first couple of times he chased me back to bed and scolded me, I needed my sleep to be a smart young lady, blah blah.

“After a while I guess he realized how important this was to me. Because pretty soon he brought me blankets and sat with me as I read them out loud. Some of their ideas were far out. You know the rest. The Naga Sentry was blown off course by a storm of gamma ray bursts into a sector where the multiverses converge. Or maybe different dimensions. No one’s dared to investigate further.

“The quantum energies from different dimensions warped the adults’ minds. Everyone went insane…even my parents. The grown-ups all killed themselves. I spent the next seven months hiding from the culling gangs, rolling the bodies of the adults into freezer compartments. I-I thought they deserved that much. It’s funny, I’ve never told anybody that, not even the Professor.”

Granny clapped her hands, making both Lianna and Gita jump. “I’d like to get out for a while. How about you?”

“That’d be nice,” Lianna squawked, “except what about those loons haunting my ship?”

“I’ll arrange something. Get dressed.”

That was easy for her. Her skinsuit slipped on like butter, and Gita helped smooth it over her limbs. She wished she had access to the outfits she’d ordered for Gita that first night. All she had to wear was the sari that she arrived in three days ago. Granny offered her a small dress from her drawer, possibly a keepsake left over from one of her children. It was a beautiful maroon color, with a lion, a meerkat and a wild pig singing in unison, and below them a strange tag, ‘hakuna mata!’

Granny shimmied into transparent thermals that actually seemed to accentuate the glow of her ebony skin. Over this she wore a plain white dress, along with a shawl adorned with a smattering of prints featuring a pride of lions.

She was still nervous. She’d accessed the tracking mode for the clothes she’d ordered for Gita. A visual delivery record was displayed via a holographic bubble, for her customer satisfaction she supposed. Except Henri’s delivery ‘bot was bracketed by four security ‘bots from the station’s main contingent. Oddly, the crowds clotting the landing bay around her ship seemed denser. They opened a narrow corridor for the ‘bots to slip through. Henri’s DB knocked on the ship’s hatch. Ernie appeared in the entryway to accept the parcel. The hatch slammed shut and all the ‘bots made the return journey under the watchful gaze of the mob turning to dog their steps, if only with their eyes. Then the report ended.

Gita scowled at the Slosh Pit when she saw that Fries or Frieza had been shuttered. All the lights were off and the bulkheads sealed. Other restaurants were also closed to business. Evidently FAITH had driven the proprieters back to their home worlds. A deathly quiet had settled over the station’s corridors. The small bands of humans standing in every doorway had little to say to the three of them as they padded the central corridor.

Everywhere they went, there seemed to be small clusters of humans. Only humans. “I thought Cassie had deported these—” Granny shot her a look, and Lianna tightened her jaw against her first response. “Troublemakers,” she modified.

“They had an excellent solicitor,” Granny whispered. “He argued that the Commander hadn’t the authority to remove people en masse. Each individual would have to be provided legal counsel to advocate for their due process rights, as well as substantiate any allegations of religious bias—”

“Bias? The entire station is run by ‘bots!”

“I know. Listen, baby. I’m afraid the deportation order was so broad, their solicitor Mr. Hobson was able to pick it apart. Here we are.”

“Here we are what?” They’d stopped in a shadowy alcove facing a viewscreen displaying a wide-angle vista of Uranus’ spinning cloud-tops. At the moment the polar regions were illuminated by a burst of auroral cascades. Granny’s answer was to drop to her knees, pressing her hand to the floor while keeping her eyelids shut. “Enhance magnification,” she called, “factor of nine.”

A panopoly of moons juggled around the ice giant, with Miranda surging into the spotlight. After Granny’s request was processed, the view obediently zoomed in, penetrating thousands of kilometers into the cloud cover, past a layer where diamond-hard methane dropped like hail toward the slushy layer that was the mantle. Granny clasped Lianna’s small hand in her much larger one. And then she saw.

At first it appeared as a random plasmoid, a cumulous rising from the ammonia-and-methane gush from below. Then it spread its wings like a manta ray, and floated through the dense fluid layer. Beings of living energy with a translucent membrane of diamond, skimming through the planet’s interior while feasting on the energy generated by the superionic layers that composed Uranus’ mantle.

“Baby, come here,” Lianna whispered. She too had fallen to her knees, her right hand open to receive Gita’s. When the child touched her, she uttered the first word she’d ever heard her say: “Wow.”

White hot sparks traversed its every nerve fibre, made visible by the electrical impulses traveling along its transparent wingspan. “I don’t know if they’re indigenous to Uranus,” Granny said, “or some invasive species from outside our solar system who found this planet hospitable. Wouldn’t that tickle our religious friends’ funny bones to ponder that?”

“Who’ve you told about this?” Lianna asked, eyes fixed on the image.

“No one.”

Lianna swerved to stare at Granny’s profile. “I don’t understand. Something this monumental, on a body supposedly devoid of—”

A heavy sigh exhaled from her with what Lianna sensed was exaggerated patience. “I don’t trust people. We virtually rendered our mother planet uninhabitable for our own children. Luna originated as a labour camp before declaring its independence. Mars is nothing but a glittering tax shelter for trillionaires and their scion. I love people…I love children. But our leaders have a penchant towards exploitation. Why would I inflict that on another species?…Forgive me, it’s too much. Let’s go back.”

No one harassed them on their return to room 1263. The little clusters of Anglo-Saxon FAITH members, for that seemed to be all who were left on the station, ignored them as they passed. Some even turned their backs to them. The lift hummed quietly, like a sleeping quadruped, depositing them on the upper level with the gentlest of bumps. The corridor was ghostly silent as they strolled to Granny’s suite. The keypad accepted her entry code, and they piled into the living area without a word between them.

Granny was halfway across the apartment, headed for the bedroom before Lianna dared broach the subject foremost in her mind. “What was your mother like?”

Time seemed to freeze around her. Her shawl was halfway down her back, shoulders tense beneath her dress. The temperature actually seemed to dip in the room. But then her shoulders relaxed. The shawl slipped into her arms, tossed lightly over a seat. “She was a very spirited woman. She cared very deeply for me. Why are you asking?”

“I-I’m worried. My mum died when I was very little. I didn’t have a chance to learn anything about mothering before I lost her. I don’t want to—what if I screw this up?” She turned a tear-filled gaze toward Gita.

Granny laughed then, a soft gentle chuckle that welcomed rather than ridiculed her. “This is so familiar. You’re experiencing First Mother Jitters!” She crossed to her, pulling Lianna into a hug. “There’s no field guide to parenting, baby. Every parent has had to learn the ropes. You’re going to have to make some adjustments. You can’t take the same foolhardy risks you have as before. You must teach her discipline while giving her wings. You must set the rules and then kiss their booboos when they stumble. Have faith in yourself, baby, you can do this.”

“But my life is not over, is that what you’re saying?’

“It’ll never be the same, but no, your life is not—” But then a polite rap on the door stiffened both their spines.

This time at least the rapping was muted, even apologetic. Granny almost floated to the entry humming, “who can it be now…?”, in a singsong voice. Outside the door stood a crimson, boxey android on treads that hardly appeared suited for its frame. Without a word it pushed a sheet-covered handcart inside, whose contents bubbled volcanically. “Ernie!” Lianna screeched, catapulting across the floor into his spindly metallic arms. Gita leaped onto his chassis, delivering her hugs there.

“I presume you missed me,” Ernie pronounced. Lianna nodded, nuzzling her oldest friend, ignoring the stare she sensed poring onto her back. After a moment she stepped back. “Granny, this is Ernie. He took care of me on the Lost Ship. How’d you get past those religious freaks?” she asked.

“Protocol 47,” Ernie replied. “I’m allowed to prevaricate in extraordinary circumstances. In this instance I assured the individuals clustered around the ship that this cart carried radioactive isotopes emitting 90,000 rads that required disposal in the station’s disposal chute. They provided ample space for our passage. Once outside of earshot, I explained to station security my true intent. They were receptive to my entreaties.”

–You lied, Gita signed.

“As you wish. Now, if I may.” Like a true magician Ernie rolled back from the cart, swishing the sheet over the top of it. This unveiled two circular tubs, 30 liters each. Granny yelped as crimson and aquamarine tongues like pythons stretched over the rim of each tub. Each tongue planted themselves on the floor, where they pooled into two-meter pylons which took on humanoid form, arms snaking from both sides.

The lower portions of each column separated into shapely legs, the middle narrowing into approximate waists. The upper portions became rounded, sprouting humanoid ‘hair’ and features much like Lianna’s. Before long there they were, proud aquamarine Amba and bashful crimson Stavros. “Wait, where’s Little Stavros?” Lianna asked.

“In here.” Ernie flicked two stubs on his upper carriage. Swinging open his chest plate, he revealed the inner cavity, small enough for a child to curl up inside of. And indeed a child sized ameboid waved at them, sharing Stavros’ crimson membrane. “I recalled that you could hide there in your younger days. It appeared the safest option for her.”

Little Stavros flowed from Ernie’s interior, reconstituting herself inside Lianna’s arms. She joined Gita and Stavros, and even Ernie in a group hug. Granny sensed the joy emanating from them all and smiled, But Lianna frowned as Amba stood back, her expression almost blank.

“You’re not going to lose her.”

Lianna and Amba both spun at Granny’s words. She reached out a hand, gripping Amba’s ameboid mitt as she would any other humans’. “Come, sit with me. We have much to talk about.” She smiled at Lianna. “Why don’t you catch up? We’ll be all right.” Amba appeared bewildered as Granny guided her toward the lounge, where they sat.

She wondered if she should say something. She had a connection to Amba she didn’t quite understand herself, a bond that operated on an empathic level. Amba was herself part of a gestalt mind, separate but linked to the host body she’d willingly peeled herself away from, so many years ago. Telepathy, empathy were just words that didn’t begin to describe the depths to which she’d penetrated Lianna’s consciousness.  

But Granny was conversing with her, counseling her as she would any other being. As if with a word she could open up her ameboid heart and soothe her troubled thoughts. Amba pressed her right palm to Granny’s forehead, and from that moment they seemed to be communing on some higher level. “Would you look at that?” Lianna muttered.

“Miss Hadebe has a reputation as a valuable counselor,” Ernie said. “Of more immediate concern is the promise of FAITH.”

“I didn’t know you had the inclination,” Lianna teased, tapping Ernie’s casing with her knuckles.

“An unfortunate turn of phrase.” Taking her upper arm, he steered her toward the kitchenette. “What I meant to say was I have overheard them conversing outside the ship. I listened in, for security’s sake of course.”

“Yeah,” Lianna nodded. “Summerize?”

“That’s more like it. Certain members are imminently satisfied at having driven off the filth and riffraff, so to speak, to wit every migrant to our solar system. ‘Only Dr Jensen and her alien brood mares are left’, they said, ‘and they’re next.’…”

TBC

Her Last Chance 5

Judging by the frequency with which she kept nudging Lianna awake, she guessed Miss Jamai wasn’t getting through to the Infirmary. Gita stayed with her, seated beside her on the lounge, sometimes running a cool cloth across her brow. Time drifted from the blackness closing like a porthole over her consciousness to the next time Jamai shook her. On one occasion she caught her in a less dignified pose, shrieking into the wall comm on her behalf before finally slamming her fist into the panel.

As the tunnel closed on her again, she seemed to be fumbling with a hand unit and tapping all the buttons on its face. The next thing she remembered was a light intruding on her tunnel vision. It grew in intensity, a supernova blasting from the bedroom alongside a howling of angry banshees. Both light and noise faded as another oddball strode into the living area.

Lianna couldn’t be sure if she was imagining this person or not. A plush mane of red curls adorned her head. This figure seemed statuesque, if a bit on the thin side. A tartan skirt swirled under a—a buffalo hide? —thrown across her shoulders. Her lips were thin, her face narrow, but there was mirth in her green eyes as she clasped Jamai. “An’ what’ll it be this time, Granny? A nip an’ a tuck, a lift o’ yer boobs?”

“Kate–!”

“Na, ye dinna need that. Perhaps if ye’d pass some o’ that joy onto others in yer Posse…”

“Kate, please…”

The stranger, this Kate, grinned with a shake of the head. “Fear not. Ye know I ken never refuse me Granny.” She tossed the buffalo robe onto a settee, and then her gaze fell on Gita. “An’ who’s the we’en, hmm?”

“This is Gita. She’s fine. Her mother is the one in need.”

“Aye?” Her eyes widened as they fixed on Lianna briefly. Somehow she didn’t question the obvious fact that they were not related by blood. They conferred in whispers by the settee. Lianna couldn’t distinguish their words and caught a few covert glances cast her way.

Then she winked at Gita, shooing her away. “Dinna worry, lass. We’ll have ye sorted ‘ere long.” Kate hovered beside Lianna as she rubbed her large hands together. She stood over her for an interminable time. “Granny, will ye take a look yonder?” Jamai glided to the other side of the lounge, both now emitting ‘ooos’. “If I’m not mistaken, grey matter is nae usually green an’ blobby—”

“It’ s all right. I’ve seen her medical reports. It’ll reabsorb into her body once her skull is repaired—”

“Heyyy…right here,” Lianna moaned, raising her right hand.

“Fair point. I just dinna wanna do anything wrong ‘ere.”

“Sorry, what ARE you going to—” Two large hands pressed to her scalp. At first the warmth emanating from her palms was soothing. Until a knifing pain lanced through her braincase, right where the plates of her skull seemed to join together. Lianna’s eyes rolled, and the tunnel rushed forward to blacken her universe.

Then Jamai was seated beside her, supporting her as she swayed. Dizziness swamped her, spinning fast as a neutron star. But the spell seemed to pass, as had the stabbing ache in her head. “Wha…? How did you…?”

“Kate’s a great healer,” Jamai smiled. “Thank you, sister.”

“What are bandmates for?” Kate shrugged, gathering the buffalo hide around her shoulders.

“Have you seen the others? How are they?”

“Well, they—wait, ye dinna nae?” A frown creased her mouth. “Granny, are ye okay?” She would only shrug and duck her head. Kate apparently was having none of that. Her fingertips brushed Jamai’s chin and raised her head. “Eyy,” Kate smiled. “Ye know ye kin tell me anything. I’ll always love ye.” Their eyes closed as their lips caressed.

And suddenly Lianna and Gita were both alert, though they might as well have been invisible. Kate’s arms closed around Jamai, her hands stroking her back. No sound came from them apart from their satisfied moans. One eye opened partway to glance at Lianna. Then Kate smiled and winked, without interrupting the kiss.

With a soft smack their lips finally parted, and Kate stepped back. “Ye should visit us sometime. Ye’re always welcome. The buffalo are everywhere. Sometimes we sleep amongst ‘em, an’ not a bluidy flintlock in sight.”

“I’ll think about it. I love you, Kate.” That seemed to be all Jamai—Granny? —which was it? —could say as Kate drifted back toward the bedroom, their fingers touching as they smiled across at each other. Their fingertips touched, then she whisked into the bedroom. Jamai seemed unfazed as a white hole howled from the other room, soon to fade.

“I must be sleepy,” Lianna yawned. “I could’ve swore…”

“Best not to think about it just yet,” Jamai smiled, stroking her temple. “And it’s okay to call me Granny.” The darkness closing in was more like a soft blanket this time. “Sleep, baby. I’ll take care of…”

Gita tried to sleep. Their hostess offered her a guest room, off to the side of the restroom, but she didn’t want to leave Mama Lianna’ side. And despite her promise of safety, she retained her human form. Granny spread a quilt over them as she lay across Mama Lianna’s back. Sleep came easily to a nagini. She did not fear for her defenses; she could easily overpower this human, should she attempt any trickery.

The living area was dark as space. Her eyes adapted to that easily enough. What was unexpected was the muffled sobs from the bedroom Miss Kate had disappeared into. Gita slipped off Mama Lianna’s back, making sure to keep the blanket tucked around her. She padded into a room with a dresser on the far wall, and a massive bed taking up the center of the chamber. Miss Granny clutched a book with an inner light shining into her face, which seemed much older now.

She showed little surprise when Gita plopped onto the bed beside her. “Hi, baby,” she smiled. “I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s okay, your mother only needs some rest.” Her hand stroked Gita’s cheek as the tears streamed down. “I’m sorry, it’s been so long since I’ve seen a healthy baby. I’ve been in a war zone for so long. I thought we were doing some good. When they finally deposed Bashir, I thought maybe we could finally have peace.” Her face twisted, both fists balling in her lap. “Then it started all over again. Of course the bastards in the army, and the militias–!” She closed her eyes, but her fists remained balled. “I-I’m just disappointed in the powers that be.”

Gita’s eyes nodded at the open tome in Granny’s lap. “Right. This is a book of remembrance I’ve been collecting. It records all the names of the babies we’ve taken care of. Not all of them made it. Your mother won’t tell you this, but humans are often very cruel to their children. At least we used to be, hundreds of…well.” Gita’s hands flowed softly. “No, I don’t understand it, either. That’s part of why I’m here.”

She turned over a blank page, rotating the back of her hand to face the page. A sensor built into the back of her hand glowed. A moment later a framed image scrolled across the page, complete with biographical information.

“I’m close to being done,” Granny said. Gita dabbed at her damp cheeks with her fingertips. “I’m collecting this so they’ll never be forgotten. None of them.” She flipped back several pages. “This one is very special. She opened so many minds that were closed. Her name was Hind…”

The scent of fresh brewed coffee, peppers and eggs teased the air. Lianna shifted the blanket off her shoulders and eased to a sitting position. Apart from a little fatigue, her mind and body felt sharp and alert. Her stomach gurgled, and…there seemed to be a weight on her bosom. Lianna pushed them apart, just a little. A small snout yawned, showing rows of needle teeth. Granny’s space bat blinked tiny black eyes at her, then licked its chops and nuzzled her right boob.

Instinct compelled her to cradle the little creature nestled to her as she stood to take a look around. The lounge she’d been sleeping on was set ten paces back from the entrance, facing a curved sofa, with a jade end-table set between them. She’d been in rooms like this in other space ports, though usually not this cozy. Following the wall from the entry one first encountered a guest room, across from her lounge, and then a common restroom. Several meters past that was a private bedroom, and to the rear a small kitchenette with a countertop, cutting area and cooking surfaces.

Granny was turning something in a black skillet, while Gita spooned ingredients into the mix as she directed. “Ms. Hadebe…” Lianna began, but she already had a hand up to correct her.

She ignored a flush of pain in her noggin as she drifted to the counter. The fragrance of peppers and eggs spiced with cumin called her back to childhood meals with Fayd in the maintenance section. “This is shakshuka,” she said. “Where did you…?”

“A widow in Palestine taught me how to prepare it,” Granny said, serving first a bowl for Gita, then another for Lianna.

“There’s no life in Palestine—”

“Only olive groves and mass graves. I’ve made several expeditions to the area over the years. I know.”

“But this is perfect. I don’t—”

“Another time, Doctor. Please.”

She passed a cup to Lianna. The milk was flavored with sahlab and cinnamon. “I was born not far from here,” Lianna started, “on one of Jupiter’s moons. My parents thought it’d be the neatest thing to have their own star baby.”

“The Jovian system is 156 weeks and two billion kilometers distant. To say you were born nearby would be a misnomer at best.”

“Astronomically speaking, it’s the closest thing to being next door neighbors as you can get. Pardon me for asking, but how did you get here?” Granny raised her gaze. “My android mate asked Cassie about you. She said you just appeared unannounced one day in the Slush Pit. Transit from Terra would take 70 days, even at one percent the speed of light. You can’t just decide to vacation on a distant planet. The orbital position of Terra in relation to Uranus would have to be projected precisely or you might overshoot the target by several billion kilometers.

“And your friend Kate just disappeared. Gita saw her march into your bedroom, and I’m pretty sure there’s no access to the rest of the station from there. So where did she go?”

“She teleported.”

Lianna blinked. Her host seemed to delight in her discomfort, smiling across her raised cup. She sipped and tried to explain. “Kate and I are able to travel point to point via wormhole transit. We’re agents of a sort, for beings who are able to fold space via contained quantum singularities.”

“Like a white hole.”

“Not quite. It doesn’t have the same gravitational aspects otherwise we’d never survive these transits. It’s how I transferred from Earth to this moon within a matter of minutes. Though I confess it’s the longest transit I’ve ever experienced.”

“Oh.”

“Sounds crazy, doesn’t it, baby?”

Lianna shrugged. “Trust me, it’s not the craziest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

They continued their meal in silence for a few moments, until Granny said, “I notice you don’t apply a lot of makeup.”

Lianna shrugged. “It’s not a very practical concern in my line of work.”

“I meant no insult. You have a natural beauty. So many women in the cities on Earth are dolled up with rouge and powder, like they’re ghosts. Yours is an honest face, without all the ostentation.”

A different sort of warmth spread through Lianna’s chest. “Thanks. I meant what I said too, when I said you were gorgeous. You’re not a fan of cosmetics either, but gods, you’re beautiful.”

“I’ve been on a peace mission for a long, long time. It was never important to me.”

“Where’s my suit?”

“I sent it to Henri’s for cleaning. It’ll be returned by 0700 Station time. While we’re on the subject.” She set her bowl half-finished on the counter. She glided behind Lianna, peeling the blanket from her bare back. “What did this to you?” Her fingertips brushed the ridges gouged into her flesh. “They’re everywhere.”

Lianna shivered, shifting the blanket back over her shoulders and clutching it tighter to herself. “I-I’d like to contact my ship.”

“Of course, baby.” Together the three of them padded back to the living area. Lianna and Gita plopped onto the lounge as Granny plucked a handheld slab from the end table. She was gazing up at her host and the question just popped from her mouth. She pointed at Jamai’s chest and asked, “Are those real?”

“Sorry…?”

“I-I’m just wondering what it’d like for them to bud like in normal people.”

She smiled. “If you must know, I nurtured three strong sons with these. It was my youngest who arranged my passage to this outpost. He knew I needed someplace… quiet. He thought that would work for my well-being. Why would you ask such a thing? You’re not without endowments yourself.”

Lianna barely glanced at herself before she scoffed. “These? I was just trying to fit in. You wouldn’t have noticed me in my first year at the Academy. I was a skinny kid. I aced all my exams. I was able to apply a couple of years early. And the girls, all clustering together in the corridors, their chests all ballooned out and the boys flocking to them. I was still as flat as an ice cube.

“I liked it at first. I could concentrate on my studies. As the semester wore on, the isolation became intolerable. I didn’t think anyone knew I was from the Lost Ship, but I was alone, and everyone else was so gorgeous. So I lied. I told Professor Chronitis, my adopted dad, I needed an extravagant amount of credits for this upcoming seminar. He probed me a little, but he really loved me. He’d done everything for me after we were rescued from the Lost Ship.

“I had it done between semesters. When classes resumed, suddenly guys were stopping to stare at me, they were asking, ‘Where did you get those bazooms?’ Boys were asking me to the theater. Then it started to get creepy. All they wanted to do was stare and…I-I gave in to their demands, a couple of times. I couldn’t satisfy…they kept asking, what’s the matter with you?

“I completed the rest of my studies remotely. I only showed up in person for the final exams, and I usually sat in the back of the lecture hall. I thought these would help me fit in.”

“Why would you even have to have such a procedure? The budding of a woman is a natural part of—” Granny’s saucer clattered to the floor. Her hands suddenly clutched at her mouth. “Oh my god, I didn’t—how could I have been so stupid? And I’ve been blathering on about my children—baby, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be so insensitive–!”

“It’s okay. Can I get ahold of my ship now?” She nodded, her eyes still haunted as she tapped her slab. She asked Lianna for the contact code for her ship which led to more beeping. Finally she handed it over to Lianna. “Just hit the flashing tab and it’ll come up.”

Lianna balanced the slab in her palm. She’d seen such things in museums behind cases. A numerical keyboard stared back at her, set in a touch-sensitive surface. “This is kind of quaint, isn’t it?”

“It’s served my needs for over 20 years.”

The flashing light she found in the upper left corner of the screen. Once she tapped that, a bubble filled the space between them. Gita giggled as an image resolved of the ship’s pilothouse. Ernie’s red android body swarmed into the foreground. “Miss Lianna! Where have you been?’

“We’re okay,” she smiled. “Say hi, baby.” She rotated the module to Gita, who signed a greeting. Then she set the module down on the end table. “Did you get the cargo stowed?”

“Yes! Never mind the cargo! What happened? Where are you?”

And he says he’s incapable of emotional excitability, she thought. “I was hurt but Miss Hadebe took me in for the night. We’re in…what room is this?”

“Suite 1263,” Jamai said, “in the private sector, Level One.”

“Tell Amba and Stavros I’ll be back later tonight, after my suit—”

“That may not be advisable,” Ernie interrupted. “Allow me to switch to an external view. That will explain things much better.” The image flickered seamlessly from the ship’s interior to a very crowded docking bay with even more fanatics clustered around the ship than last night. All Lianna could see was a sea of faces mingling suffocatingly tight together. “Stand by,” Ernie’s voice cut in. “Pastor Bienbouw is coming to make a speech.”

The congregants shifted to one side to allow a beefy specimen who towered over the rest to pass. He was dressed in a stiff white shirt, sealed with an equally stiff collar. His blonde hair was butched close to his scalp. A podium had been set up next to the ship’s dorsal fins, and behind this he stood with raised hands. The congregation became suddenly quiet, barely seeming to breathe.

“Rejoice, my brethren! The devil has been driven from our midst!”

“No he hasn’t, pal,” Lianna grumbled, “You’re still here.”

Though his voice was guttural, it seemed to carry across the bay. ‘‘We don’t know where Dr. Jensen has been taken. Nonetheless we can take solace in the fact that she has been driven into hiding. The last vestiges of alien trash have been driven from our solar system!” This was met with cheers and whoops. “Now we must be vigilant, patient, and allow Dr. Jensen to return to her ship. After all, she’s the only one who can pilot this wreck out of this station!” The congregation joined him in his chuckles.

“I want to thank our esteemed solicitor Mr. Hobson, for his service in delaying the deportation of countless brethren on account of Commander Stephensen’s spurious insinuations. For too long our liberties have been intruded on. Those days are over, I promise you.

“And our work is not yet done! We tried to build a more perfect society in Rhodesia, South Africa and in Zion. Each time our holy efforts were undermined by kaffirs and feminists and all the radicals, demanding we respect THEIR rights—”

Granny stiffened during that last harangue, her fists cracking in her lap. Gita, on the other hand, signed, ‘Rats?’ “He said ‘rights’,” Lianna signed back. “I know, he talks funny.”  The three of them had a giggle about that, at least.

Bienbouw raised his palms again, garnering the mob’s attention. “The Last Great War was not as we were promised. Paradise was given over to the perverted. The wall we’d labored so diligently to erode between church and state had been reinforced. Other faiths were allowed to flourish over the true gospel. Even our hopes for a greater world in the New Frontier had been dashed. We’ve seen with our own eyes the alien taint oozing from Dr. Jensen’s own hands!”

The congregation’s murmurs rose to ululations as the pastor raised one hand like a conductor. “That’s it,” Lianna grumbled. “Ernie, patch me into the ship’s amplifier.”

“Doing so now, Miss Lianna. Although may I advise it may not be wise to antagonize—”

But she was already leaning over Granny’s end-table. “HEY! SMART-ASS!”

Granny started. That certainly got the pastor’s attention, since he immediately swung to the perceived source of the offending noise, as did the stunned mob before him. “Before you stick your foot any deeper down your gullet, I just wanted you to know I’m alive and well, and I’m not going anywhere! I’m not gonna waste any more time reasoning with you. I’ve visited neutron stars that were less dense than you loons! If it’s the devil you’re looking for, I suggest you look in the fucking mirror!”

After that she severed communications with a touch of a button. That was singularly satisfying, almost as much as the high five she shared with Gita, or the wide-eyed gaze Granny regarded her with. “Child,” she whispered, “you’ve got balls!”

…Pressure was exquisite. Her throat seared from dozens of ruptures. She coughed another mouthful of blood as its throat muscles contracted, ridges of muscle grinding into her hips and thighs.  Her arms cramped as her suit was slowly shredded with her still inside it. Its mouth closed over her face as her hair was strained between its jagged jaws—

–and the scream died in her throat. She sat rigid on the edge of the lounge hyperventilating, dripping ice cold perspiration. Her blankets were soaked, clinging to her as she fought for composure. I haven’t had that nightmare for years, she thought.

The evening had passed easily. They spent a few hours playing cards. After dinner her suit was delivered as promised. She left it in its slipcover for now; she still needed to recover. She and Granny had tucked Gita into bed in the spare room, and then she did the same for Lianna, which worked out fine until now. “Baby? What’s the matter?” Granny called from her room.

“It’s fine,” Lianna called back. “Gita’s still asleep.”

“I was referring to you.”

“Oh.” She sat quietly for a moment, until her host spoke again. “Would you come in here, so I don’t have to shout across the apartment?”

Something in her tone seemed so familiar, so—family—that it brought a smile to Lianna. She cast off her damp blanket and padded into the bedroom. Sweet Mother Kali, her brown body was even more beautiful in her birthday suit. Lianna sat on the edge of the bed as Granny propped herself up on one elbow. “I had a nightmare is all,” she began.

But Granny abruptly tossed the covers off herself. “Oh my god, you’re frigid. And you’re wet all over. Wait here!” She dashed to her dresser. Suddenly a fluffy luxurious towel was tossed across her shoulders. She was very thorough, rubbing Lianna back and then front until every drop of sweat was scrubbed dry. “I-I’m sorry,” Lianna stammered. “I haven’t slept alone for so long…”

“Baby, what happened to you? What could’ve inspired such a vivid nightmare?”

“It wasn’t…it was real.” Granny stopped toweling her down for a moment. “You could sense what I was dreaming.”

She nodded. “How could you remember that so vividly?”

“I remember everything. I have hyperthymesia. I remember every hour of every day on the Naga Sentry. Every day of my life with precise accuracy.”

The bed creaked as Granny sat down beside her. “Tell me.”

Lianna wet her lips and leaned forward to make sure Gita was still tucked in. So far so good. She leaned back with Granny’s great hands gripping her shoulders. “I-I wasn’t looking for monsters. I just wanted to explore, without the dangers I’d been encountering. I thought it’d give the Professor fewer headaches,” she chuckled.

“There were stories in my parents’ journals about a planet with a sacred body of water. I set down a few kilometers from where my ship’s sensors pinpointed a cavern with a large body of water. I hadn’t known there was a mercenary army bivouacking there too. These were Blanchard Benzentine’s thugs, the Scourge of the Seven Empires. They got off a few shots, inflicted radiation burns to my right leg.” Her hand brushed a faded pink blemish spread across her upper thigh.

“I barely managed to shut a bulkhead door and deadlocked it behind me. And there it was, the Sacred Waters of Turin. There was nothing especially magical about it, besides the name but it cooled my wound. And then…you ever get those pinpricks on the back of your neck, like you know you’re not alone? The water surged in front of me, waves building till it was the size of a whale.

“Sweet Kali, if only that’s all it was. This was the mother of all monsters, a grey skinned squid full of tentacles twice as long as me and twice as thick. I was armed, sort of. The professor had given me a wrist mounted nullifier for self-defense. I didn’t know what it’d do against this monstrosity, but I had to do something. I raised my arm to take aim, and it threw its tentacles around my arms. And then my wrist gadget says, ‘tracking lens blocked—please remove obstruction.’

“Can you believe that? That thing was gonna kill me and it still thinks it’s in the lab! It was all over me in seconds, clutching my legs and shoulders, flowing down my throat. Its suckers were tearing into the inside of my throat. It wasn’t like Terran cephalopods. Its suckers bit right through my mother’s skinsuit, into my flesh.

“I-I think they were recording it. Gita’s mother told me she found a trove of data slats, covering dozens of travelers they fed to that creature, and,,. they were laughing about it. It lifted me like I was nothing, cinched its tentacles tight around my chest. Then it turned itself inside out. It was astonishing that anything that huge could regurgitate itself so easily.

“It had no beak. From the looks of it, Benzentine’s mercenaries had blasted its beak to pieces. There were only jagged nubs left around its mouth. Those jaws had opened to receive me. Gods, the stench of brine and raw flesh blasted from its throat. My soles slipped down its tongue. Its tentacles oozed up my torso as it forced me down. First my hips, then my hands, then its mouth closed around my chest. I was gonna die alone while they were back in their HQ, watching, pleasuring themselves over my…”

“Baby, stop. You don’t have to…”

“Let me finish. It had me, my hair was sliding through its mouth. And then my wrist gadget says, ‘Target acquired. Shall we respond?’ Oh hell yes, so I fired right down its throat. Blew a space-girl sized hole through the back of its head. It got the last word, though. It spit me out, but the force of the blast blew me across the pond into the retaining wall, head-first.

“I don’t remember much after that. I think it killed me. Ernie rescued me, Gita’s mother came and they ministered to me. I was in a coma for several weeks. I only had Stavros travelling with me at that time, and she contributed some of her amoebic fluid to heal some of my wounds. That’s where all those welts came from, and that’s part of how I acquired a little amniotic goo.”

“Please tell me that bastard was arrested for what he did.”

Lianna shook her head. “Not exactly. Gita’s mother had become extremely fond of me.” Lianna swallowed. Meanwhile Granny’s hands massaged her shoulders, “I didn’t want revenge, I didn’t…but she tracked the whole mercenary army, across several sectors, billions of kilometers, and she killed them all at once. She’s a goddess. She unleashed a demon horde on his soldiers, and then…

“She harvested their souls. She released her demon army from its servitude and bound Benzentine’s army to her service for the next thousand years.” She turned to stare into Granny’s shining eyes. “Why would she do that for me? I never dreamed anyone could care enough…” She was suddenly aware of her hands trembling in her lap. Then one of Granny’s hands pressed over both of hers, rubbing them gently. “I’m sorry. Can I stay here tonight?”

The request spilled out of her without a thought. Once spoken, she didn’t regret it. She barely knew this woman, but somehow all her instincts whispered that she could trust her. “Of course you can, baby,” Granny smiled. “Just lay down, you’ll be safe here.”

Hardly had the blanket covered them both before Lianna gasped, “Sweet Kali!”

“What? I’m sorry, is something–?”

“No, it’s just…gods, you’re so WARM. This is like bathing in a star.”

She sensed the smile in her reply. “Space is cold. You probably haven’t had a warm body to cuddle up to.”

Lianna was suddenly reminded of how tiny she was next to Granny as she spooned closer, her breasts smooshed across her back. Lianna’s hands, so very small, clutched the powerful arms draped around her waist. “Why are you so kind?”

“I know what its like to be alone,” Granny whispered. “I didn’t have an advocate to help me when I was your age. I never want anyone to feel that lonely…Oh. I guess you’re not the only one who couldn’t sleep.”

Lianna raised her head, brushing her hair out of her eyes while Gita peeked over the top of the mattress. Her trunk trailed a couple of meters behind her into the living area. “Hi, sweetie. Is something wrong?”

She didn’t sign anything this time, but clutched Lianna’s fingers. “You don’t want to sleep alone either, is that it?” she nodded enthusiastically. Lianna glanced back at Granny, who nodded.

“It’s a strange place. One night won’t matter.”

“Okay. Come on up, sweetie.” Lianna put her hands to her waist and lifted Gita onto the mattress beside her. The child wriggled up to Lianna’s shoulders while her lower body coiled once, twice, three times around her waist. Her scales stretched and contracted as she breathed, supple against Lianna’s bare skin. Her breath was warm and feather soft on her neck. Gita settled into Lianna’s arms while Granny snuggled close.

Her Last Chance 4

“I assure you, Doctor, your child is in no danger. Her vomiting is indicative of stomach upset. However, there is no suggestion of viral infection.”

Lianna stroked the top of Gita’s head. She’d been seated beside her cot ever since she puked in the pilot house that morning. Lianna was still in the pink bathrobe that she’d flung over herself as she carried Gita to bed, her trunk draped over Lianna’s arms and dragging at her ankles. The Medical bot reported to the ship five minutes after she summoned him, babbling several kilometers a minute.

“You’re sure there’s no fever?’ she persisted.

“None,” the ‘bot said.  “You reported none when you took it yourself. “

“Yeah, I-I don’t know what’s the matter with me.”

“Overprotective motherly instinct is my diagnosis. I believe the prescription would be to relax.” He seemed to spend a few moments too long scrolling through his most recent scan. “Curious. The food Gita regurgitated was only partially digested. Her stomach appears to be retaining a considerable amount of proteins. And she appears to be digesting these items at a slower rate than is normal, for a human child of her apparent age.”

Why hadn’t she seen this before? She’d been feeding Gita like a horse since she met her, on the assumption that was what you did with a child. She hadn’t considered that as a naga child, she’d digest her meals at the equivalent rate of a reptile—if that WAS the way the digestive rate worked with a naga child? “I’m sorry, Doc. Could you scan her stomach?” The ‘bot ceased his bending over Gita and faced Lianna stiffly. “Please. It’s important.”

Dutifully he did so. He studied the results. Rapped the side of his portable scanner, then examined Gita again. “Doctor Jensen, you are aware your child has two stomachs?”

“T-two….Yeah,” she lied. “She’s more than human, Doc. Listen, I know this is unusual, but there are some paranoid people on this station. Can I rely on your discretion on this matter?”

“I have taken an oath, Doctor Jensen. I have never violated that trust. And I am aware of the prejudice Miss Gita may face as an alien. Since this appears to be her normal anatomical configuration, I can promise you both that discretion. For now, I suggest you feed Gita not so often. We’ll see if that improves her stomach upset.”

“Thanks, Doc.” She saw the medic off at the hatch. As he was leaving, Cassie arrived. Twice in one night. Before she’d gone to sleep Cassie had stopped by to inform her formally that her symposium, the reason she’d come to Uranus in the first place, had been suspended indefinitely over security concerns. “Welcome back,” Lianna mumbled as she brushed past.

“Good morning,” Cassie nodded. In her hands floated an official looking tablet. “I brought you a registry padd. Fill it out as soon as possible. This will make your adoption of Gita official. “

“Maybe later.” Her eyes were focused on her cabin, where Gita wiggled her fingers at her from under her blanket.

“It’s best to get this red tape over with quickly.”

“My baby was sick this morning, do you mind?” Lianna yanked the padd from where it floated between them and slapped it on the pilot’s console. A shrill chirrup erupted in protest.

Cassie raised her palms. “Okay. I’m just saying, the longer you put this off, the easier it’ll be for some hairlip like Pastor Ludden to threaten you.”

“How?”

“I DON’T KNOW! WE BOTH KNOW WE CAN’T—!” Cassie’s jaw clenched, tighter than Lianna’s, tight enough she thought she’d break her teeth. “We both know she’s an alien. I don’t care about that, okay? How long do you think it’ll take one of those freaks to figure it out? Get it done.” Spinning on her heel, Cassie showed herself out.

Lianna huffed, staring at the tablet. The hatch had slammed after her several minutes before Lianna could bring herself to approach the task. ‘Mother’ was easy enough. ‘Father’? ‘Place of Birth’? Would anyone recognize Patala for what it was? Well, who would know it existed in a separate dimension ? The other questions…

After a half hour of nibbling her lip and chasing the fog in her brain, Lianna padded to her cabin. She thought Gita was sleeping, but she rolled over straightaway once Lianna took the stool beside her cot. “Baby, who is your father?”

She signed that she was proud of her parents and the two siblings born in the same clutch. “Does he mind that I’ll be taking care of you for a spell?” Gita shook her head, adding by sign, if you fail he will not hesitate to crush you in his coils. Lianna could only hope she was kidding. The other questions would have to wait, as there was yet another rap on the hatch.

I can’t take two steps away from my baby’s room, she fumed as she keyed the hatch open, and immediately regretted it. “Good morning,” Pastor Ludden breezed past her so quickly she couldn’t tell if his grin was genuine or not. “Is everyone well here? My parishioners say the Medical ‘bot paid a call.”

“Gita had an upset stomach. She’s in bed sleeping.”

“Would that have anything to do with that outburst in the Commander’s office yesterday?”

“Word travels fast.”

“It is a small station. One wouldn’t need large ear lobes to hear the pair of you shouting through the bulkheads.”

Somehow Lianna kept both fists from balling. She crossed her arms across her chest, which somehow didn’t seem better. “She’s right in there. Would you like to see how she’s doing?”

“If you’ll permit me.” He followed at a discreet distance as she led him to her cabin. Gita was still in her humanoid mode, but her eyes widened until Lianna signed that it was okay, the pastor was her guest. “Is she incapacitated?” Ludden queried.

“Of course not, she just prefers signs. She doesn’t know you yet. Say hello, sweetie.”

Gita flicked her gaze from the pastor to Lianna. But she did as she was told, adding something Lianna wasn’t about to repeat. “Doctor, tell me. Will you be raising her in the word of the Lord?”

“Not without asking her parents first. They might have something to say about that.”

Ludden frowned. “Aren’t you concerned with the salvation of her eternal soul?”

“Why would I? You’re not going to tell me you believe every child is damned from the cradle? Don’t you find that a horrid concept?”

“I would never imply such a thing. Is she at least aware of the story of the Serpent tempting Eve?”

Gita sat up, puffing the pillows behind her. Her hands flowed in a fluid motion. Lianna hesitated before relaying her question. “Gita was wondering if the Serpent ate Eve after he tempted her.”

“Wha—No! It’s a metaphor! The Devil wanted her to eat from the Tree of Knowledge—”

More signs. “She says she ate a tree?” With the pastor at her back, Lianna smiled and signed, “Baby, you’re just kidding around now, aren’t you?”

Gita grinned and signaled back: “I could do this all day.”

“No,” Ludden flustered, “I meant the fruit from the tree, my mistake…”

“Gita wants to know now what’s the point of that? If it was a real serpent he would’ve just ate her. That’s what she would’ve done…if she was the serpent, that is.”

“It’s a story—OUR stories! These are what define us, defines our moral—” Ludden suddenly seemed to become aware of his hands, flurrying in a blur under his chin. He forced both arms into immobility by his sides. “Clearly you’ve been neglecting our history.”

“She’s a child. There’s plenty of time to learn it yet.” Lianna trailed off as Gita’s hands steepled beneath her chin, and her mouth worked in silent prayer. “What’s she doing now?’

“Praying to Brahma that her stomach will heal soon, that she can have a little peace and quiet so she can get some sleep.”

“Brahma?”

“Yeah, Brahma. He’s the highest of the gods in her pantheon.”

His face flushed scarlet. “Is this what you’re teaching this child? What other pagan blasphemies are you bringing to this outpost?”

“Pastor, it’s a vast universe. There are higher realities, other dimensions we can’t even imagine. Surely you understand this. You believe in an omnipotent being you can’t see but is supposedly everywhere and everything all at once. “

“But you don’t believe in this Brahma, do you? You’re talking about this—this being as though he’s an entity you’ve met.”

“I’ve never seen Brahma.” Not yet anyway, she said to herself. “I’m a scientist, I accept the evidence of things observed. What I have seen is that there are bigger things you’re not ready for, yet. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like my child to get some rest. Would you please leave now?”

As he stormed off the ship, Lianna realized she may have gone too far, but she wasn’t sure at what point she’d done so. She’d barely tapped into the experiences of her last ten years in space in her symposiums. If he’d lived a tenth of what she had…

After the pastor has left, Ernie greeted her with a slip of hard bound paper—a card, was it? That’s quaint, Lianna smirked. No one’s used one of these for hundreds of years. “This arrived while you were conversing with Pastor Ludden,” he said. “It is very unusual.”

Lianna lifted it to the ceiling lights. “Please join Jamai Fatima Hadebe at Iva’s for a luncheon at noon Greenwich Time. Your sweet nagini is invited.” She lowered the card with a huff. “At least she has the terminology right. What’s so unusual about a lunch date?”

“Apart from the possibility that she knows Miss Gita’s true nature, there is also the fact that this person literally disappeared off the face of the Earth over 20 Terran years ago.”

“I’m still not getting it. What’s so important about this—this Ja-May?”

“Ja-Mii,’ Ernie corrected. “Miss Hadebe, if this is indeed who she is, was a well-known spiritualist of great power and, for many decades, a councillor for troubled youths. Many attributed her disappearance to the death of her husband not long before.

“Of more immediate concern is your own relations on the ship. Miss Amba has been sulking in the cargo lounge. She won’t eat or reply to inquiries. I suspect she is jealous of the attention you have been lavishing on Miss Gita.”

“What does she have to be jealous of?”

“Hmm. It has been many years since I have had to do this.”

“Since you’ve had to do what—OWW!” His explanation was a smack into the back of Lianna’s head. Not a severe blow, but modulated with just enough force to get her attention.

“Miss Amba,” Ernie replied with what seemed more force to his voice, “may feel left out of the decision making process. Until yesterday she had only to share you with Miss Stavros, a being not unlike herself. Now there is a new lifeform which requires your upmost attention. Miss Amba may be miffed that you had not consulted her before bringing Miss Gita into your life.”

“Ernie, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Her mother is a goddess, for Christ sakes, and she’s trusting ME with her upbringing! Don’t you know what a gift that is?”

Ernie contemplated this for the longest time. “Apologies. It is my role to play what humans call ‘Devil’s Advocate’. Nevertheless, your happiness is my happiness. My suggestion regarding Miss Amba is, before you go to lunch, that you express these sentiments for her benefit.”

“Okay,” Lianna nodded.

The cargo lounge appeared empty at first. Oddly a pleasing blue-green aura suffused the area. After sealed the hatch behind her, Lianna glanced up. Her eyes focused on a series of thick gooey stalagmites clinging to the domed ceiling. “Hey sweetie,” Lianna smiled. Strangely, this was almost exactly the state in which she first encountered Amba.

A pseudopod oozed down from the central pillar, the tip curling up to face her. This swelled into a pair of rounded cheeks and an ameboid wig. Her mouth was not at all pleased. “Ernie thinks I didn’t ask before I made this big decision, but I didn’t have time. What I mean is, Gita kind of dropped into my lap and I couldn’t refuse her—”

–You didn’t want to, the thought accused.

“That’s not–!” Her protestations died before she could voice them. Even in her mind they sounded hollow. “No, I didn’t. You know, I’m kind of envious of your kind. You’re part of a huge family. We call it a colony, but you’re connected to thousands of cells, just like you. All sharing their thoughts and impressions, even over countless star systems.” Lianna stared at her fidgeting hands. Usually she didn’t need to express herself verbally. They understood each other intuitively, as she did with Stavros.

“I can’t have that. They won’t even allow us to adopt, any of us from the Lost Ship. We’re too unstable, too prone to violence. It’s legal, literally all legal.”

Two aquamarine hands clasped hers. While she’d been talking, stalagmites had tapered down from the ceiling, spooling around Lianna’s waist, clasping both legs. The face on a tendril had swollen into a chest and neck to support Amba’s head, and the arms that held Lianna.

“I knew I’d never have that from a young age. So, I buried any hope of having a child in my work. Then I met Stavros, and I met you, and I wasn’t alone. I had my parent’s journals, so that was something to make myself useful, hey?” The last of her pseudopods flopped onto Lianna’s shoulders. Thick gelatinous folds pooled around her lower body, exerting a gentle pressure, pushing up beneath her armpits. “I can’t give her up. I want you to be part of this. I’ve never done anything like this, anything…”

–Responsible?

Lianna nodded. Amba’s face was foggy from the warm moisture burning in her eyes. “Please give her a chance. Will you do that for me, beloved?” Assent came in the form of her ameboid arms draped over Lianna’s neck. Amba’s lips brushing hers, and an echoing –beloved—in her thoughts.

Gita indicated she felt well enough to accompany Lianna, though she might not eat much today. Lianna understood and promised to ease her through this lunch. She’d shimmied out of her robe and into a facsimile of her mother’s skinsuit. The original had been destroyed; the scars from that encounter were left all over her body. This suit was supposed to be indestructible, as it should be since it was a gift of the gods.

Sleek and supple, it had only one patch topping her right shoulder. This was a grooved imprint of a rounded gold key, a yoni she supposed represented her mother. She’d applied a portion of her stipend from the observatory to request extra saris for Gita. That morning they chose colors and styles. The tailor promised her new outfits would be printed and delivered by early evening, Terran time. 

The maitre’d had been expecting them. They followed him to a booth far to the rear of the restaurant, dimly backlight by the aquariums encircling the main seating area. The same dark woman from the night before rose and indicated a seat beside her. She seemed to have done a fresh brush job to her hair. Lianna and Gita slid onto the bench. “Is this a social call, or are you stalking me?” Lianna began.

The woman chuckled. “I’m sorry your symposium has been suspended. I found your presentation fascinating.”

“You came to see me?’

This-Jamai?- nodded. “The last three days. You seem to have quite an affinity for children.”

Lianna shrugged. “They’re inquisitive, perceptive…”

“And not so quick to judge as adults?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“So. Lianna. Is that like the vine?”

“No, that was my parents being cute. It’s a contraction of my father’s name, Lee, with my mother’s, Anna.”

“What a thoughtful gift.”

“Thanks. Sooo…how do you know about Gita?”

“I saw her on the day she arrived. The two of you were beautiful together. I’m curious whether you know what you’ve let yourself in for.”

Their drinks had arrived atop a service ‘bot with drink inserts set into its flat top. Gita patted the ‘bot as it departed. They raised glasses of fresh lemonade. “Her mother’s been my therapist for many years,” Lianna said. Jamai’s glass froze at her lips, greenish liquid dribbling down her chin. “Have you ever encountered a nagi in her native environment?”

“In fact I’ve met two.” It was her turn to grin as Lianna and Gita both spit-taked. Some of the other patrons lifted their eyes from their menus. “I took it upon myself to wrestle them. I was lost at the time, it wasn’t long after the death of my husband. It wasn’t the brightest thing I’d ever done.”

“Huh. And you survived that.”

“No.”

“Have you told anyone about Gita?”

“No. Why would I? I’ve spent the last twenty years dealing with fools who didn’t give a—” Her fingers had started tip-tapping on the tabletop. Apparently she noticed she was doing it at the same time Lianna did and dropped her hands under the table. “I’d never endanger a child. Any child. Is something wrong?”

Lianna blinked. While her host was speaking, her boobs seemed to jiggle. No, she must have imagined it. “Look, maybe it’s none of my business, but my android Ernie told me you just vanished, like say, twenty years ago. Where did you go?”

A small sad smile pursed her full lips. Her hands stroked the cup facing her. “I was invited on a peace mission. I needed something like that after my husband passed away. It was important to our success that we operate under a cloak of anonymity.”

“You were part of some non-governmental body or something?”

“Yes. It was the first time I’d worked with a team. I liked that. We rescued a lot of people. Some of us fell in love…”

“Then why are you here? It’s a long way from Terra.”

“I’ve…” She closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath. “I had a troubling spiritual experience. I needed a sabbatical.”

A chirrup erupted from—her? Then Lianna noticed her boobs jiggling again. She hadn’t meant to, but she couldn’t help staring, especially after a triangular head poked over the top of her bosom, its pointed ears unfolding.  “Excuse me, I don’t mean to pry, but have you got a bat nestled in your bosom?”

Jamai glanced down, then peeled half a slice of orange from her plate and held it to its snout. It nibbled voraciously at it before tucking itself back in its warm spot. “It’s okay, they’re friends,” she cooed. Then she noticed Lianna and Gita both gawking. “The station had a visit from warriors of the Antarian Empire. Some Antarian space bats had hitched a ride on their warship. A colony took up residence on the upper level, including Commander Stephensen’s quarters. I assisted her in rounding them up for relocation to one of Uranus’ moons. This sweetheart needed some extra loving care. I’ve been nursing him back to health, and I’m afraid he’s grown quite attached to me.”

Lunch arrived on a glass platter loaded with diced tomatoes and cucumber mixed with parsley and spices. The maitre’d squeezed juice from a lemon sifter while his waiters laid down platters of fried pita as a side dish. Gita picked at vegetable pieces while Lianna nibbled the pita. “Have you given any thought to her schooling?” Jamai asked.

Lianna guffawed around a mouthful of pita bread. “I’m not letting her out of my sight. I’ll probably home school her. Such as it is,” she added, thinking of her ship.

“Are you sure that’s what her mother intended? Associating with your own kind may be exactly what she—”

“I’m not human.”  Hot steam rose inside her skinsuit, seemingly under her very skin. Why does everyone want to interfere with how I’m raising her? “I just got her. Can’t you people give me a chance to try raising her the right way?”

Her host’s lip trembled. “That may be how you feel now, but you can’t stand apart from what you really are. Trust me, I know.”

“Lady, you don’t know me at all. You don’t know what I’ve had to survive. Given what’s happened this past week—who the hell are you to judge me? Did Cassie push you into this? Did those freaks haunting my ship?”

“Doctor, you need to calm down. People are staring—”

“I DON’T CARE! Do you know how many ‘aliens’ I’ve met who’ve tried to kill me because I was different or weird or—whatever? NONE! NEVER! NOT ONE TIME! I’ve been welcomed—I’ve been loved more deeply than any human was ever capable of! I’ve been cared for better than any human could bother to! If I never see another asshole human it’ll be—fuck!”

The glass was in her hand without her thinking of it. It shattered into broken fragments, sparkling brightly across the table. One fragment stuck in her palm. Every eye in the café seemed to be on her as she pulled it out. Blood pulsed from the puncture, but that was soon overwhelmed by an aquamarine bubble spreading into the wound and sealing it. Every eye, including Jamai’s, was wide and staring. “Come on, baby,” Lianna said quickly, taking Gita’s offered hand with her uninjured one. Together they padded quickly from the silent café.

“That was a little over the top, wasn’t it?’ Lianna asked Gita shortly in the infirmary. She nodded vigorously. “Sorry, baby, it just came out of nowhere. With her and Cassie and that damn pastor hounding me all in the same morning…” she stopped when Gita lunged in for a hug. “Okay, I’ll try to do better.”

“At this rate you may as well take up residence in my infirmary, Doctor.” Lianna tightened her lips as the Medibot sprayed a healing patch over her broken skin. The glass had penetrated the muscle in her palm, but the nanobots inserted into her when she was a child were already repairing that damage. “Did anyone see the protoplasm fill your wound?”

“What?”

“Did anyone see what happened?” The Medibot repeated.

“I-I don’t know,” Lianna admitted, “That wasn’t my biggest priority.” Gita shrugged, so she guessed she hadn’t been paying attention either.

“This should heal in a few days,” the ‘bot continued. “In the interim I suggest you maintain a low profile on your ship. Why would you do such a stupid thing?”

Lianna hunched up on the exam table. It always seemed to strike deeper when an android criticized her than when a human did. “She pissed me off,” she mumbled. “She was trying to give me some BS about acting more human.”

“You ARE human!” His words made her cringe even more. “It is one thing if you don’t wish to socialize with them, but that is who—what!—you are! It cannot be helped!”

“I just wish…I just want people to forget I was ever on the Lost Ship.”

“I can’t treat that illusion,” the Medibot spoke, more softly. “Rest. See me in two days. My intern will need your thumb scan for the supplies you requested.” Lianna nodded. Gita took her hand as she slid off the cot.

Outside the clinic’s Auxiliary Station, where supplies were regularly delivered, the intern dispensed a cargo pod. His was a generalized design, an upright floating bowling pin with a egg-shaped pod on top with a sensor band for sight, Lianna peeled the glove back on her left hand and pressed her thumb over a sensor pad. A green light acknowledged receipt of her supplies. “Here we are, 500 kilos of crystallized silicate. I’m at a loss as for why you would require this.”

“Crew,” Lianna replied breezily. “Thanks, doc.”

She got behind the handles of the antigrav buffers framing the cart’s chassis and pushed. Gita was in front of her, also leaning on the handles. Lianna grinned; with those buffers it took almost no effort. Of course, by the time they reached the docking bay, Gita was riding on top of the cart in front, swinging her legs right and left.

The usual mob surrounding her ship was restive, maybe a bit too quiet. But they parted for the cart’s approach like—what sea was it in old Earth mythology? Gita bounded off the top of the cart as Ernie opened the ship’s cargo hatch. There was little to it, two dark grey metal doors curving up and down with a magnetic track to ease large loads onto the ship. The problem was, this time the cart seemed to be stuck.

Lianna frowned as she pushed once, twice. It wouldn’t slide more than half a meter inside the hold. She had to bend down and lift it from the bottom a few centimeters to slide it the rest of the way inside the ship so that Ernie could maneuver it to its proper cubbyhole.

Her relief was jolted out of her by the feral scream behind her. The pastor’s son Nick was dashing toward her, and the rest of the mob was surging behind him. Lianna ducked the pipe he swung at her, and as he staggered past she dropped him with a chop to the neck. She landed a kick to another man’s groin before he reached Gita. The mob was on top of them before she could shoo a screaming Gita up the hatch. Lianna threw herself over her as fists pummeled her back. That wasn’t important, she was still pushing them through a sea of legs toward—

Metal crashed into the back of her skull. Stabbing pain flashed all through her nervous system. The second blow brought another flash and—did something crack? Amid every agonizing pulse, goo flowed toward her damaged skull plates. Only instinct enabled her to cover Gita with her body as hands tore at her, trying to dislodge her.

Flaming bushes roared around them—no, flame throwers, frightening the crowd back, gushing from the gauntlets of Cassie’s security patrol. The pillars of fire weren’t actually pointed at her attackers, Lianna realized. The ‘bots had waded into the mob, using the flames to drive them away. She suddenly found herself in a heap on an empty space on the deck with Gita shaking her, trying to rouse her.

Frigid metal clamps took hold of her arms and lifted her as though she were nothing. The sudden motion brought on a fresh roil of nausea. The deck spun as they dragged her back toward the entry hall outside the docking area. “Gita,” Lianna called, weakly at first, but when she couldn’t locate her, “GITA!”

One of the five ‘bots surrounding her raised a clamp, then dropped to one knee and leaned forward so that Gita could wave to Lianna from her safe perch on his back. “Thank you,” Lianna panted as a black hole closed on her thoughts. The smelling salts shoved under her nostrils solved that, temporarily. Everything seemed to be draped in gauze. She could hear things but her mind, her body seemed to float through them. “Medic, prepare to receive patients,” the Chief Security ‘bot called, a bit too shrill.

“Negative, Infirmary is in lockdown,” came the reply. “There are an unknown number of rioters attempting to access the Infirmary. Recommend you take the patients to a safe area until it is possible to administer aid.”

The Chief ‘bot stepped away from the comm panel set in the bulkhead. “Doctor Jensen…? Stay with us, Doctor. We appear to be cut off from your ship and any immediate medical aid. Is there any place we can take you for safety?’

She couldn’t for the life of her think of anyplace. She didn’t know anybody here except Cassie, and that other lady. And after she went half cocked on her only an hour ago…Gita was tapping on her escort’s back. Once she dropped to the deck, she showed them a card she was carrying. The little scamp must’ve picked it up while Lianna wasn’t looking.

Their feet clanked like regimental soldiers as they marched through silent echoing breezeways. A lift deposited them on an upper level. The air seemed cleaner, even warmer here than in the lower levels. She sensed a lot of these staterooms were vacant. Neither Uranus nor its moons held Terra’s cultural romance with either the Jovian or Saturnian systems. Lianna had blacked out again, but she awoke at a door which seemed to emanate the scent of jasmine and orchids. The Chief ‘bot buzzed the door repeatedly until a familiar voice groused, “What? Do you know what goddamn time—”

The door whisked open and there she was, her dark body lightly wrapped in a pink nightgown adorned with imprints of rainbow butterflies. Lianna met her eyes, expecting some lingering resentment. Perhaps there was a flash, for a second, until she frowned, either at her escorts or her dropsy gaze. “Doctor Jensen?” she asked.

“Forgive us for calling at this late hour, Ms, Hadebe,” the Chief ‘bot said, “but a situation has arisen. Would you assist us?”

She ignored him, her gaze seeming to bore into Lianna. “Doctor, what’s going on?”

Lianna supposed she ought to apologize. All she could manage was, “I can’t get to my ship. Please, I’ve got to protect Gita…” Her head dropped, at least partly from shame. Suddenly two large brown hands clasped hers, rubbing them gently.

“Hey.” Her voice was warm with an exotic lilt. A blanket settled around Lianna’s shoulders. “Come on. No one will harm you here. I’ll keep you safe.”

They were at the threshold of her quarters when the Chief ‘bot blared, “We can’t make that promise, Ms. Hadebe.”

Her host glared back, and it seemed her eyes could’ve melted steel. Yet her voice held an icy calm: “I can.”

For the first time in days Lianna felt she was truly safe. Gita had already skipped inside when the Chief said, “That may be. Nonetheless—” and then Jamai snapped her fingers, and the doors slammed shut on her escorts.

She eased Lianna onto a luxurious two-seater lounge. That’s as far as she got before her stomach retched all over her dining room floor. The room spun wildly as Lianna pitched forward…

TBC

Thoughts on The Ten-Cent Plague (2008) by David Hajdu

Let me tell you a story. I grew up reading comic books and oh, I could tell you stories, but only one is relevant to this blog. I’d just entered high school in the fall of 1979. My father, brother David and I had just moved into a house in University Place. While I’d always loved comics, I also bought into the thinking that they were immature, just for kids. I had a collection at this point of about 700 comics.

One day I let my brother Kenny into my room and said, have at it. He tore into them with glee, literally, ripping my collection to shreds. I’d kept a few hidden, just for sentimental reasons. At the time I thought that was what I was supposed to do, that I needed to grow up. For the next eight years I didn’t buy another comic book.

This book by David Hajdu made me mad. Not that it wasn’t enjoyable—it was—it was written almost in comic book style. It seemed appropriate to read this now, as we’re pulling the same shit all over again. In the early 50’s across the United States, states and municipalities were passing vsguely worded ordinances to ‘protect children’ and our morals. It wasn’t simply the politicians. Police, PTAs and the Catholic Church were rising up in scenes reminiscent of Nazi Germany.

Like Nazi Germany there were book burnings. Not just bannings, which is bad enough, but actual bonfires rising to the skies, under the old saw, ‘our morals are being corrupted!’ This began as early as 1948, only three years after the death of Hitler and his notorious band of hoodlums. The narrative demonstrates how easily masses of people can be manipulated by vague culture war polemics.

I saw some names I knew, like Bill Gaines, the head of EC Comics and the father of Mad Magazine. There were future sci-fi giants like Harry Harrison and Henry Kuttner, forced out of the comic business by the uproar capitalized on by Fredric Wertham and his book The Seduction of the Innocent. The introduction of the Comics Code Authority led to a bowdlerizing of comics that wasn’t overturned for 14 years.

The real irony of this was that none of these high-faluting critics of comic books had bothered to read what they were castigating, the same way none of these so-called Moms for Liberty bother to read LGBT themed or Black History books before throwing a hissy fit and pressuring librarians to ban them. 800 artists and writers never worked in comics again. The kids involved in these book burnings only realized this was wrong after the fact, and then they got mad.

“Though they were not traitors, the makers of crime, romance, and horror comics were propogandists of a sort, cultural insurgents. They expressed in their lurid panels, thereby helping to instill n their readers, a disregard for the niceties of proper society, a passion for wild ideas and fast action, a cynicism toward authority of all sorts, and a tolerance, if not an appetite, for images of prurience and violence. In short, the generation of comic-book creators whose work died with the Comics Code helped give birth to the popular culture of the postwar era.” [pg. 330, The Ten-Cent Plague]

Too bad for those cultural purists that you can’t kill ideas. You can suppress people, you can bury history but you can’t erase either people or true history. Even in the 1950’s, the seeds had already been sown, and Rock ‘n’ Roll was right around the corner.

The Lonely Hearts Bar

I don’t know what I was thinking when I wrote this. Maybe it’s like those spontaneous pieces John Lennon wrote in the 60s that never made any sense. This is a relic from 1992. Enjoy.

Welcome to the Lonely Hearts Bar

Welcome to the house of loons

It ain’t a place you find in the streets

You gotta crawl in-side your twisted mind

Dino just flew in from the tropics

With a frizzy beard and Spidey                                           

[That’s his eight-legged buddy]

Dino says he’s runnin’ for office

An’ Spidey is his runnin’ mate

Dino swings from the chandelier

While Spidey presses the campaign

There he is, hangin’ over the door

Snaggin’ voters in his loopy web

Step on in to the Lonely Hearts Bar

It’s no place like Santos or Martinez

These are the goons you’ll find

Runnin’ in-side your twisted mind

There’s Jumpin’ Jack Slim shooting pool

Thinks he’s a lumberjack in drag

Yes he’s got a heart that’s true

But he’s been D.D.T.’ed too long

Don’t forget the lady in furs

Wears a ragged sable on her neck

Sittin’ on a barstool on the rocks

Drinkin’ rum an’ coke on ice

She comes in day an’ night

To her little circle of friends

Buenos Dias to Alfredo and the maid

An’ the little poodle from her barrio

Welcome to the Lonely Hearts Bar

Come wallow in a Bud with us

We got nothin’ new to show

‘Cept our twisted little minds.

334 Farralone Avenue

I’ve been carrying this around since the late 80s. This was dedicated to the home I grew up in, at least the first home I had a great fondness for. With the excess time off I’ve had due to medical issues I came back to it, with a couple additions. I don’t know if they help or if its crap. I’m just going to throw it out there and let you decide.

Hello old friend, has it been so long

Since I went far away

Those days are still strong

I left very young, yes it’s been a few years

But for the days long past

I can’t shed any tears

Hey old friend, did the grass stain our pants?

It never spawned any weeds

Or a ‘puppy-doo’ dance

[Neighbors’ ladder sliding along side-boards

While my brothers laughed from the second floor window

And the neighbor raised a fist

GI Joes were not for adulation

But burying in the nearest storm drain]

We’d curl up at dawn on that vent in the floor

The grill marked me up

While the others got warm

[Shattered glass backed into unseen

‘cause I didn’t want to wear a shirt

Comic books in sickbed, Man of Steel with a golden key

Curled up on the couch

All four eyes glued to Spider-Man]

We always ran up the stairs, almost beat them to death

Mom never got her sleep

And she’d scream us all deaf

[Weekends on the radio, Casey Kasem counting down

Or EG Marshall with another mystery theater

In the dark we’d listen, my brothers and me

Did they enjoy those shows

Or tolerate them for my sake?]

[Drove past you one fully grown afternoon

To a stranger, remodeled, painted a dingy brown

Defiled]

So long old friend, I don’t think it’s the end

You were too good to me

I hope I come home again.

I Hope My Grandchildren Forgive You

I hope my grandchildren forgive you    

for what you brought on our land  

for the world we leave to them

Forgive the desert that was once California  

the parched land and tongues of ordinary souls  

rationed to a few drips a day  

or will that be a week, who knows?

Forgive the 30 years wasted in deceit and denial  

while simulations became fact

and facts piled on facts  

and opportunities to act became wasted in dithering politics

And to the passing of the Floridas  

while salt of sea infiltrated our children’s drinking supplies  

I fear not for New Orleans, she’ll adapt  

she always does

Forgive us the storms like no other   

coming to a landmark near you   

New York barraged by tides she’ll not soon forget   

Lady Liberty will stand as a beacon still   

even waist deep in the ocean

I certainly hope they can find it in their hearts   

to forgive your cowardice, your avarice,  

your blind blinkered stupidity   

‘Cos God knows I won’t

Review: George R. Stewart, Earth Abides (1949)

(Original printing by Random House in 1949)

One might ask, once you’re done Googling the given title, why the HELL would we be interested in a book published 72 years ago. That was before the Red Scare of the 1950s, before fears of nuclear war overtook all future versions of Armageddon. There is wisdom in old works, perhaps more than can be found in contemporary books. I found for myself this is a more timely text than was seemingly possible.

The back cover of the 1976 edition I read describes this as ‘a novel about a tomorrow that could happen today’. After the events of 2020 it seems very close to home. Our protagonist, Isherwood Williams, spends some time in a cabin in the woods recovering from a rattlesnake bite. He comes back to a city that appears deserted. Scattered newspapers, what’s left of them, tell of a ‘new and unknown disease of unparalleled rapidity of speed, and fatality’. Unlike in 2020, in the novel there was a concerted and competent government response, although this pathogen still wiped out the better part of the population of the late great United States.

I saw a lot of myself in Ish. He was well read, and probably more mechanically inclined than I. Basically he’s a good person trying to make sense of an impossible situation. At first he was all right with solitude, he could do without loads of people and their problems for a while. Peace and quiet were nice, and he was free to do what he wanted. Some inhibitions had to be broken, such as when Ish had to start breaking into stores to get canned goods, just for his own needs, now without fear of prosecution. Given that all means of mass production were essentially gone, canned goods were all that city people had to live on.

But no one can live alone forever. That’s how Ish was adopted first by a homeless dog, Princess, which lead him to Em, his future wife and the woman who would become this novel’s Mother of the community they gather together in an old California suburb. . As the first, original Mother, Em becomes the heart of what they call the Tribe, probably the most intuitive person and the one everyone defers to in matters.

This community Ish gathers, this Tribe, is comfortable, too much so perhaps. Even when a crisis arrives, when the reservoirs have dried up and no more water is to be had from their taps, it is very hard to stir the people to make an effort even to dig a well.

I can see this–I believe it. For a novel written seven decades ago, it has a clarity and insight. These are average people with average goals, without much ambition to rebuild civilization as they knew it. Ish’s efforts to educate the children of their small Tribe come to no avail, until he settles on more basic–and potentially fun skills, such as bows and arrows. And of course there is the Hammer, which Ish has carried with him from the beginning. This becomes an unconscious symbol of power, a tool as well as a faithful companion that Ish has to pass on in the end.

I would highly recommend Earth Abides. There is more truth, more humanity there than a lot of the propaganda we’ve indulged in for the past several years.

(The 1976 Fawcett Crest edition)

A Beginning [fragment]

[Hello there. This was something I scribbled one night for a project that may or may not ever come to fruition, bringing together all my female characters. Just for the hell of it I’m throwing it out here. See what you think. Enjoy.–Mike.]

She pushed herself up from the pile of bodies, wrinkling her nostrils against the sulfar stench wafting up from the lowlands. She stood tall, her cinammon-skin already damp with perspiration. Someone had thoughtfully provided a tight pair of snakeskin trunks, while leaving her feet bare. Next time, she mused, I get to pick my outfit.

Perhaps it was still night, Jamai thought. Somehow she knew this purple skyline with her roiling storm clouds had always been so. All it needed was a cliché bolt of–

“Holie!” And here it comes, grounded to the lightning rod her small companion thrust into the catwalk at the last second. A blinding flash illuminated her in white silhouette, but in all respects she appeared unharmed.

“Hah! Take that, you dinkoff! Nobody beats science around here!” After taking one quick around, she added to herself, “God willing.” None the less, her khaki shorts and dingy white safari blouse appeared undamaged.

“Well played, sister,” Jamai smiled, taking Kiana Richards’ hand.

“It was nothing special,” Kiana shrugged, flicking her neck-length auburn hair back from her face. “These things were just lying on the catwalk. It just seemed like the thing to do. One question…”

“Yes. Where are we?”

“Exactly where you need to be,” another voice intruded. Another sister. Her bootsteps rattled on the catwalk’s struts, shaking the fragile structure and sending sympathetic shivers through all their bodies. The violet skinsuit graced all her best features, while the window cut into the chest fabric did nothing to hide her globes.

“Lianna,” Jamai nodded.

Kiana did the same, adding, “This is gonna get confusing fast. So tell me, we were all called together for a reason, or fell out of time or some crap?”

“No need to get snarky, red.” A collective startle jumped up into their hearts as they jerked to the right. Another blonde like Lianna crouched on the handrail, honey-tinged this time. But even in this dank light she was pale beyond reason, the tips of her fangs dimpling the corners of her lips. Leather cloaked her from those wetlook leggings to the slinky coat on her back. “Hi there. I’m Vye.” Nudging Jamai’s forearm, she said, “Hi again, bosoms. Been a while.”

To the others she said this. “It’s probably appropriate that I’m here at least. Take a look down.”

Her gaze angled over the rail. Together the three of them joined Vye in peeking twenty stories down to the field of lava breathing acrid fumes below. A dark crust formed over a large proportion of the landscape, but there remained bubbling honeypots oozing fresh magma. And towards the east, from their position at least, there heaved a maw filled with stalactite teeth, wide enough to gorge on an elephant.

“Let me guess,” Kiana whistled. “That’s the devil himself.”

“I’m going for something more general,” Vye replied. “Evil from before the dawn of time.”

“And what say you, Godwalker?”

This was getting to be such a regular occurrence, the ladies simply joined in a mutual sag, then turned to greet the new intruders. Apparently this was to be the first man on their team, a husky fellow in buckskin breeches and waistcoat over a plain white shirt, with moccasins and a leather sash girding his Bowie knife.

“Welcome, Jeremiah,” Lianna grinned. “You’re just in time. Bring the reinforcements?” He nodded.

As the portal opened wide behind him, Kiana asked, “Excuse me. Godwalker?”                     “Just a nickname,” Lianna squirmed.

“You don’t say,” Jamai queried with her raised eyebrows.

Throwing up her hands, Lianna elaborated. “All right, I may have met some Hindu gods, and they were kind to me…”

“Hah! More like they fondled you!” Vye laughed.

“So wait…are we all…dead?” Kiana whispered.

“Only some of us, lass!” spoke the tall Irish beauty striding from the portal, flowing skirt trailing her. Beside her a girl of Chinese-American descent practically skipped to keep pace. Besides her TV-Western cowboy outfit, she also lugged a Santa Claus-sized bag across her right shoulder.

The flaming red Irish woman shook all their hands in turn. “Top of the day, lasses. I’m Caitlan, this poor we’en is my partner, Fong. As ye can see, television has thoroughly corrupted her.”

“Sez you,” Fong’s higher pitched voice laughed. “I got the gear.” She looked toward Jamai and smiled. “Hi, Granny!”

Six pairs of eyes at various heights swiveled to a suddenly bashful Jamai. “It’s an affectionate appellation…ohh!” Any shy feelings evaporated as Caitlan and Fong both swept in for a hug.

Lianna harumphed, drawing their attention. “Okay, we all know each other…most of us. We’re all connected in some way. We’re all sisters. A-and brother,” she noted, waving a hand to Jeremiah.

“We’ve all experienced our days of terror, all looked into the face of damnation. I can’t force you to do this, but…that thing down there represents a power even the gods are a little nervous about. We all have our powers, all have our own little gifts, and that’s going to come in handy in the next few minutes. So, I’m asking you, will you stand with me?” As she spoke, so she circulated among the gathered, touching each of her allies with a gloved hand. Those hands were now open, beckoning.

“We’re gonna need a way down there,” Vye commented.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Fong huffed, dropping the bag onto the catwalk. Reaching inside with both small hands, she distributed a rocket pack to each of her fellow warriors. Each one of them fastened the gear as though they’d done this before, like they’d done this all their lives.

“All we need now,” said Kiana cheerily, “is Gail Simone to lead us.”

“Maybe next time,” Fong chipped in.

“Ready, Godwalker?” Jeremiah smiled.

“Don’t call me that,” Lianna moaned. As the smallest, Vye and Kiana bunched on the rails, ready to push off. Everyone else dropped to a runner’s crouch, ready to watch Lianna’s back.

“Okay,” she called, “Let’s go!”

—-

Mikes’ latest book, FATHERS AND DAUGHTERS, is available at amazon.com.

f & d cover

Mike’s Amazon page:

https://www.amazon.com/Mr.-Michael-Robbins/e/B00CMHSMYA

 

HER MOTHER’S SUIT

[Another short post with my Deviantart OC, Lianna. Enjoy.]

DEAR DIARY: It fits perfectly.

The second I graduated from the Space Academy and got my Independent Pilot’s license, I wanted to try it on. Professor Chronitis kept all my parent’s belongings after he took me in, including Mama’s skin suit.

It still smells like her, all jasmine and roses.   I want to go to all the places she would’ve gone to. I’m gonna find every weird form of life she never got a chance to. I know it’s kind of weird, but sometimes it’s like she’s still with me, even though she’s been dead over 15 years. I do miss Papa; but I wanna do this for her more.

 

her mother's suit scan (2)300 (1)

 

Mikes’ latest book, FATHERS AND DAUGHTERS, is available at amazon.com.  Mike’s Amazon page:

f & d cover