Title : Perennial Mothers
Author : Bluey
Rating : NC-17? Explicit hints on mature subjects, and a tidbit of violence.
Pairing : not exactly intimacy, but close
SUMMARY : Zhaan brings the girls and Stark to a Temple of an unknown religion, and finds everything but Faith.
Spoilers : Hints about 'Thank God it's Friday again'.
Author's Notes : It's the third installment in Thäa's saga, but could be read as a stand-alone.
If you haven't read the first two Thäa stories, you should know that :
Thäa (Zhaan's lover and Chiana's very intimate friend) is 1,5 meter tall (5 feet tall), and a Féerian, a race with golden eyes and blond hair. Féerian skin look like the colours moving on a soap bubble, rippling from emotions. Thäa is also a Féebanchee, a natural-born healer which uses bio-electricity to heal almost anyone without having to make any diagnostic. She was found on a dying Leviathan and was previously tortured for six cycles by Peacekeepers and one devious inmate.
MOYA'S TRANSPORT POD
The transport pod leaves the hangar. Aeryn sighs heavily as she veers the little ship away from Moya. She looks sideways at Zhaan, which hasn't said a word yet.
- Tell me again, Zhaan, says Aeryn in hush tones. Why did I get involved in this, in the first place?
- I never expected you to come, my dear, answers Zhaan mockingly.
- Oh, right, says Aeryn in an amused tone. I came to watch over the children while you get your head filled with more nonsense than you care to hear.
- Interpretation is the key, says Zhaan, still not bothered by the harsh voices coming from the room behind them. I have much to learn from the Perennial Mothers, if they care to teach me.
- Will they? asks Aeryn, looking sideway to her for a microt.
- We will know, in due time.
Aeryn sighs again.
- Can you stop that fight or will I have to knock them out one by one? she asks, sounding a little bit annoyed. We still have two arns before we get there.
Stark comes in and sits down on one of the bunks surrounding the control room. Chiana follows him soon after.
- Where is my frelling scarf? she yells at him.
He opens up his big furry coat to show her he doesn't have a scarf.
- I don't have one, he says nervously. I don't need one. I didn't get one. Satisfied?
- What did you do with mine? yells Chiana, taking handful of fur from his coat's collar.
- Enough!
Both look on to Thäa, who's standing behind Chiana.
- Stop it, now, or I'll strangle you both with my own, she says in a cold voice.
- He took it, says Chiana, backing away.
- I... don't... care... says Thäa, eyeing her angrily. I'm sick of your constant bickering. If you can't stand him, leave him alone. As for you...
She turns to Stark, still angry.
- Stop putting fuel on her fire, Thäa says icily. She picks on you because she knows you'll answer back.
- He still took it, says Chiana in a very soft voice, as Stark bows his head down.
- Have you looked into your room? asks Thäa, turning to Chiana. You went straight there as you came in. Maybe it fell off while you were putting your stuff away.
- I'll check, says Chiana, exiting the room.
Thäa follows her out without another word.
- This trip, it's for her, isn't it? asks Aeryn, not bothering to acknowledge Stark's presence in the room.
- Hmm, says Zhaan, nodding.
- And you think those mystics can stop her from becoming so bitter?
- I don't know what they can do, says Zhaan softly, but fresh air and a real sky above her head won't harm her.
- True, nods Aeryn. It will help all of us.
+~+=+=+=+=+=+
TWO ARNS LATER, ON THE PLANET
The village looked so small when they came out from the transport pod. Now that they're entering it, it closes down on them. The whiteness of the snow is now mud under their feet. Long icicles on the slanted roof border of each house resemble white fangs ready to bite you down as soon as you turn your back. But the people seem friendly enough. A pink steed slows down to a gentle trot, making the small bells of the buggy sing in the clean crisp air of the valley. The driver takes off his cap to salute as he passes near them.
Chiana is so lively, talking about everything like she's never been to a rural town before. Aeryn, walking alongside, isn't so captivated by the scenery. Where the Nebari sees an abundance of food and goods, the Sebacean looks on to the big knife the merchant is holding, smiling, but still ready to use it at the first chance.
Thäa walks close to Zhaan. She hasn't been out of a ship in more than six cycles and cold air makes her dizzy. Stark walks right behind her, ready to assist if she was to faint.
- I'm all right, says the Féerian for the third time. It's only... I'm... cold, that's all.
- Here, take this, says Zhaan, taking off her scarf and putting it around Thäa's neck.
- No, Zhaan, you'll freeze, says Thäa, trying to get the blue hands away from her face.
- My body adapts to the weather, says Zhaan in her motherly voice. You know that, Thäa. I don't want you to get...
- Get out, mumbles Stark behind them. Get out... get out...
His step falters as he puts a shaking hand to his mask.
- What is it with him? grunts Aeryn.
Zhaan stops, turning to Stark.
- It's all right, Stark, she says warmly. I can feel it too.
He looks up to her, a wan smile on his lips.
- They're gone, Zhaan.
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
MEANWHILE, IN THE TEMPLE
Two tall and very thin silhouettes are hidden from view as much from their white clothing as from the surrounding white wall around the window. One of the forms turns to the other.
- Are you sure they can't detect you? she whispers, as though someone could hear her.
- The Delvian has acknowledged my presence, says the musical voice of the other.
- I told you...
She has a raspy voice, a bit shaky like from old age, but strong nonetheless. She's stop by a rising gloved hand.
- She knows I mean her no harm, says the musical voice. She eager to learn... to share our knowledge, our faith.
She says the last two words with sarcasm.
- What about the others? asks the raspy voice.
- The Sebacean is a wary soldier out of her element, says the musical voice. Don't threaten her and she won't cause you any trouble. The Nebari has to be watched carefully. She won't submit to any authority, and could be hard to handle if she gets bored. The smallest is a Féerian if I guessed right. She seems to be in the Banik's care.
- Féerians, it's a new race to me, sighs the raspy voice. Are they compatible with us?
- If you try, says the younger voice, less musical now, you'll have to deal with the others.
- Escaped convicts can't rule us, grunts the raspy voice. Each for their own, that's what you said before they landed.
- I warn you, Hime, don't mess with the young one. One thing I know about criminals, they stick to each other facing adversity.
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
IN THE VILLAGE, NEAR THE TEMPLE'S ENTRANCE
The doors are large enough to accept the transport pod, but they don't open for them. Instead, a smaller door on the side opens up, and a decrepit old woman peeks out, keeping a ungloved purple hand on the door's handle, and the other closing her knitted shawl close to her throat.
- Come back in the morning for the juice, she says in an annoyed raspy voice.
- Tiarra Hime expects us, says Zhaan calmly.
The woman looks back inside, nods and opens the door wider.
- Step in quickly, she mumbles. I'm not heating the whole town.
She pushes them in one by one, like it was a question of life and death, and then she takes a lantern from the table and hushes them along in an unlit and very cold corridor.
- You should have taken the high road, the doorkeeper says.
- What's the juice for? asks Chiana, just before getting nudged by Aeryn.
- Our freedom and our pride, chuckles the old purple-skinned woman. It's what ended the war, and some still needs it, to stay alive in these time of peace.
- Medicine? asks Zhaan courteously.
- Na... not really, says the old woman, putting the lantern higher to see the blue face near her. It helps, but doesn't cure.
Zhaan nods, the only one who understand what the old lady is talking about.
The corridor turns left, then left again, as it circles the garden, which they finally see when the creaking door is opened at the far end of the long tunnel.
 |
- It's beautiful! exclaims Chiana, stepping out of the damp cold to a warm immense room, with a glass dome top and luscious vegetation all around. The ripple of a fountain nearby is the only sound in this vast protected garden.
A big mature lennox tree in full bloom shaded the entrance, its big yellow flowers blocking the view over their heads.
- I'll tell her you're here, says the old woman. Wait here. She'll come by after prayers.
- You should feel at ease, here, Zhaan, says Aeryn teasingly. Found any long lost cousin?
|
Zhaan glares at her for a microt, but no more. She's enthralled by the scent, the sight, the feel of all that vegetation, thriving in this secured enclosure as the world outside is frozen stiff and waiting for spring.
Stark helps Thäa to sit down on the stone border of a meandering path. The poor girl is stiff with cold, and takes off her gloves to rub her palms together. Zhaan turns to check on her. The usual multicoloured skin of the Féerian is strangely opaque, with only a small ripple of yellows and pinks.
- I'll find you something hot to drink.
- No, Zhaan, says Chiana. Stay here and enjoy. I'll get something for all of us. I need it too.
- Let me help you, says Stark, taking Thäa's hands in his.
- No, I'm fine, says Thäa, pushing him away. It's warm in here.
Chiana comes back almost immediately, followed by a young veiled girl holding a heavy tray.
- This way, please, says the girl.
She leads them to a ironwork table, with a glass cover and comfortable chairs, with metal frames and plush velours seats. She serves them hot tea and small sweet pastries, warm food cubes that taste far better than any they ever tasted, and nuts. Thäa seems most interested in the tea, but Chiana tries everything, at least once. Aeryn takes a few bites and a sip, and stands up, looking around, unsure why she feels so uncomfortable. When Zhaan notices Stark putting his share of nuts in his fur coat pockets, she gives him her own share. Thäa looks up, and does the same. He looks quizzically at her gesture.
- I don't have room for gloves and nuts, she whispers, showing him how small her coat pockets are.
- Like they were going to starve you, says Aeryn, disgusted.
- How is it hurting you? asks Zhaan, coldly.
- You look like a bunch of slaves, she says, turning her back and walking away.
- She said this on purpose, says Thäa, grinding her teeth.
- I'll take a look around, says Chiana, going away before anyone could ask her to stay.
- Can I? asks Thäa. It's so beautiful, and...
- Of course, my dear, says Zhaan smiling warmly and patting her shoulder. We have no need to wait sitting down.
- The path will lead you back here, says Stark, showing the turn of it around a blooming tree. it's made of half circles, all connected together.
Thäa wanders off, and Stark does so, in the same direction, more interested in watching over her than looking at the greenery. As soon as Zhaan is alone, a tall woman draped in white from head to toes appears at the curve. Her face is veiled with a fine white gauze, hiding her from view. She bows down and Zhaan stands up to do the same.
- I am Tiarra Hime, as you have already guessed, she says in her raspy voice. We've talked over the comm link, Pa'u Zotoh Zhaan.
With a gloved hand, she beckons Zhaan to follow her, and they walked in silence to a sun filled room, outside the garden. There are a few cozy sofas arranged in a circle, turning their back to the large window, which covers an entire wall. Tiarra Hime prefers to go directly to the window, and Zhaan follows her.
- As I said before, Pa'u Zhaan, this entire village was built for a third time after the war ended. It's been about five hundred cycles since the last battle. We've had peace, at last.
- At a great cost, says Zhaan, looking out.
She sees derelict houses, rock filled fields where the wind has blown away the snow cover, and a wholesome atmosphere of stagnation and poverty.
- They live because we are here, but the spark is gone from their eyes.
- Have they lost faith? asks Zhaan worried.
- Worst than that. Their forefathers fought for a better world. They have nothing to fight for.
- You said I could help, says Zhaan carefully, as she turns back to face the priestess. I have to admit... I don't see how.
- How could your world thrive, being so peaceful?
- Faith, and a thirst for knowledge and advancement, answers Zhaan.
Tiarra Hime looks out at the fields and sighs heavily.
- We are losing the first, and never had the second, she says in a tired voice. But there is one small hope.
Zhaan cocks her head to the side, hands joined at her waist, waiting for the older woman to speak. It takes a long time before the other one does so.
- That Sebacean you came with, she starts, wringing her gloved hands in nervousness, she's a Peacekeeper, isn't she?
- She was, but not anymore, answers Zhaan truthfully.
- Doesn't matter. She's still alive. She shouldn't be.
- Are you telling me you purposefully brought us here knowing it could be dangerous?
Tiarra Hime lifts her veil, uncovering her wrinkled old purple face.
- I don't have much time, Pa'u Zhaan, she says, a wan smile on her lips. I'm desperate to find a solution and... yes, she could have died. In a way, I knew she was safe. Don't ask me how I knew. The Peacekeepers could be our last hope.
- I don't understand.
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
MEANWHILE, IN THE GARDEN
Thäa walks aimlessly in the meanders of the garden's path, when she spots a young girl trying to trim a large tree. From the back, the girl looks all dressed in very light gray and white, from head to foot, veiled and gloved like the white ones she saw on the clamshell aboard Moya. The gardener's tool is either not sharp enough or the girl's not strong enough but she grunts and pants, trying to cut down a dead limb. When she sees Thäa, she's startled and cuts herself deeply enough so red blood smears on her white glove. The shears fall to the ground with a loud clang.
- Oh, I'm sorry, says Thäa, rushing to the girl's help.
The girl looks down on her glove, then back at Thäa. The Féerian gasps as she touches the girl's hand. The veil the girl wears is very thin, almost transparent. Underneath, she can see the contour of another fabric, hiding half of the girl's face.
"A Banik", thinks Thäa. "I'm sure Stark would be pleased to see one of his kind".
Féerian healing is better done on bare skin, but if Thäa wishes it hard enough, she can heal under clothing. She takes the girl's hand and closes her eyes a few seconds to start the process.
- I'm called Thäa. What's your name?
- I'm Maru, whispers the girl. Thank you.
- Is it completely healed? asks Thäa, very worried.
- Yes, thank you, says the girl, flexing her fingers. What do you want in exchange?
- Nothing, says Thäa, taken by surprise. I didn't do it for...
She turns at the sound of footsteps and sees Aeryn coming her way.
- There's an hospital at the end of the path, says the Sebacean. I thought you would like to get a look.
- Let me... says Thäa turning her head to present the girl to Aeryn.
She's gone, and so are the shears. Thäa looks on the ground, sure she saw a few drops of blood a moment before, finding none.
- Everyone is completely farhbot here, or what? asks Aeryn, curtly.
- You scared her away, sighs Thäa, going in the direction Aeryn had shown her.
- Am I scary? asks Aeryn, sarcastic. No, I'm not scary. There was no one with you.
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
Thäa passes in front of an open door. She peeks inside and sees Chiana with about twenty women, most of them with the big belly of pregnancy. One of the slimmest ones is mimicking the delivery in a dance, turning around as the other clap their hands, crouching low and panting, then turning some more. Some of the others are humming, others laughing, and few are oblivious to the commotion, busy knitting, on large comfortable sofas, at the back of the room.
No, that's not the hospital Aeryn was talking about, but it's close by. Zhaan told them before they departed that this temple was also a birthing place. Maybe this is why it's called the temple of the Perennial Mothers, since they're in great number all times of the cycle.
Stark is obviously waiting for her, in front of the big white door. As soon as he sees her, he puts his hands up, like he wanted to stop her in her tracks.
 |
- This is not the place for you, Thäa, he says nervously.
- How do you know where I'm going? asks Thäa, suspicious.
- Aeryn was turned away, he explains, barely keeping his calm. She was told she was too old for this room. Don't go there, Thäa. Nothing good will come out of it.
- They're having babies in there, Stark, says Thäa, patting his arm. They won't allow you in, because no man can enter such a place. But I'm a woman, and they'll let me in, because, contrary to Aeryn, I don't have a weapon strapped to my thigh.
- Evil place, mumbles Stark, mainly to himself. No babies... only pain and death. Too many deaths, too many... too many... |
- I'm going in, declares Thäa firmly.
- Don't go... please, don't... pleads Stark, trying to grasp her hand.
- You've warned me, Stark. Your conscience is clean. Now, move aside.
- No, says Stark firmly. it's too dangerous. I won't...
He gestures towards Thäa, wishing to touch her, but she moves away from his fingers.
- Don't touch me, she snaps back angrily. Now, let me go or I'll throw a fit you've never seen the likes of.
Stark is so stunned by her remark, he doesn't move in time to stop her. A microt later, it's too late. The big door shuts down after her.
- No babies in there, he says to himself.
- Give me your coat, says a covered woman as soon as Thäa steps in.
The Féerian has to agree. It's much warmer on this side. She makes a mental note to ask for her coat back when she leaves. This temple is too big to throw around her belongings everywhere. She has no idea how long Zhaan intends to stay here. Maybe a few arns, a day at most. Unless there's a snowstorm, which could delay them for a while.
Even with her coat off, Thäa finds this room stuffy. It's not that big, with only four beds on each side, and shear curtains to separate them. There's a form lying in one bed, closest to the door, but the other seven are empty.
- Astringent tea, says a new covered woman, putting a cold cup in her hands. It will help you cope with the heat.
- Why is it so warm? asks Thäa, feeling foolish saying it.
- Muscle relaxant, says the woman, taking the empty cup back. When they get too tense, it hurts more.
- Delivery?
- No, amniox release.
Thäa looks at her, puzzled. She has never heard of this procedure. Amniox is the liquid in which the baby floats until delivery. When the woman is ready to deliver, the waters break on their own. Why take it out before that? Is it safe for the child?
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
MEANWHILE, IN THE SUN-FILLED ROOM
- The Peacekeepers have changed, Tiarra Hime, says Zhaan, patiently. Those who came in five hundred cycles ago wanted to help. Now, they are as cruel as the Smeeks were.
- The Smeeks, yes, says the old lady, smiling. We cut through their ranks so swiftly, they never saw it coming. They didn't find the cure in time.
The Delvian is flabbergasted.
- Yes, Pa'u Zhaan, says the old Hime, nodding. We came up with the virus that decimated a whole race, and crippled a few more. The Scarrans, the Plokavians, the Nebari, and a few more, they all came here to conquer, and left as fast as they came. The Sheyang was a noble warrior race at that time. Now, they're a bunch of cutthroats and scavengers, thanks to us. The Tavleks were the only ones who never bother to try. Maybe they could survive the virus. They are my second choice if the Peacekeepers can't come.
- Are you ready to sacrifice half of your population to give them a goal to achieve?
- I'm not sure, sighs Tiarra Hime as she goes to one of the sofas to sit down.
Zhaan sits down, next to her.
- How would I do it? asks the Delvian, saying to herself she wants no part in this abomination.
- I don't want a real war, says Hime's raspy voice as she stands up again. I want the threat of one, something convincing enough so my people will awaken from their slumber and build again.
- Valuable resources put on your defense will be a great strain on your economy, says Zhaan.
- For a time, yes, says Hime, going back to the window, where Zhaan follows her. Look out. What do you see? The soil is rich, but they won't harvest more than they need.
- You need commerce, not war.
- Yes, commerce with the Peacekeepers, that's what I need right now.
- Not them, sighs Zhaan. They are used to take what they want, giving nothing in return. They'll put your people in slavery, force you to work the land and the mines for their own profit. When everything is gone, they'll put your men in mining colonex, and use your women for entertainment.
- So, what do you suggest?
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
MEANWHILE, IN THE HOSPITAL
The stifling warmth of the place makes Thäa sleepy. She longs for one of those bed, to take a quick nap. In a single day, she has almost froze to death, eaten too many sweets and been brought to what could be called an indoor desert where she's drying up like a fallen leaf. She tired... no, exhausted would be the exact word. Stark was right. It's too hot in here. Aeryn wouldn't have survived ten microts in this heat.
Thäa has been gently pushed out of the first room into another bigger one. There are more beds, almost all of them filled. She looks at those faces, most of them bland and unresponsive, some frightened. Under the crisp white sheets, the distended bellies are easy to recognise. A nurse comes in, with surgical gloves and a mask hiding only the lower portion of her face. The skin is light brown, almost copper under the bright light, and the eyes bright green. In her tray, a glass bottle, larger than a teapot, and the biggest syringe Thäa has ever seen.
The nurse nods to her and pushes aside one of the curtain. The woman lying in the bed instantly cries out in fear.
- NO, not me! I'm not ready!
- Her first time, says the covered woman who brought the cold tea. By the twentieth, she'll get used to it.
- Twenty babies! exclaims Thäa.
The woman beside her bursts into laughter, pushes her to the nearest empty bed.
- Lay down a moment. The tea has gone up to your head.
- I think I'll take your offer, smiles Thäa, lying down on the firm mattress. I'm tired.
She closes her eyes and falls asleep immediately.
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
IN THE GARDEN
 |
Zhaan has gone out of the room, not sure her answers will do any good. The old woman is desperate, but not thinking clearly... a very dangerous combination. Lost in her thoughts, she sits down on the ledge of a big evergreen. Another white figure, slimmer, taller, comes to her.
- Choosing the lesser of two evils, wouldn't you say?
Zhaan looks at her, unsure.
- Searching for a third option, whispers Zhaan after a microt.
- I'm sorry, Pa'u Zhaan, says the musical voice. I have no manners. I am Tiarra Shellec, founder of the indigent hospital and caretaker of the temple. |
The tall woman bows her head and sits down on the ledge next to Zhaan. She looks up. The sun has gone out. The glass dome is now completely white.
- Storms are frequent this time of year. The worst one isn't here yet.
- We can't do it, says Zhaan in hush tones. None of my crew has contact with the Peacekeepers. If they come, as Tiarra Hime expects, you will be doomed from the start.
- I know, sighs Tiarra Shellec. She's an old woman with simple views. She still thinks she can rule us, but there are seven voices against her... and mine. We will find a way... another way... one without bloodshed.
Zhaan nods, smiling. A great weight has been lifted from her shoulders.
- How is it to be a Pa'u so far from home? asks the musical voice.
- Difficult, but rewarding, answers Zhaan readily. Challenges are good for the soul.
- She told you about the virus, didn't she?
Zhaan nods again.
- You're not angry... shocked... disgusted? asks Shellec, folding her gloved hands in her lap.
- You know, answers Zhaan, still smiling. I can feel you.
- I'm sorry, says the bowing head. It's... a second nature to me.
- Not used to be noticed?
- Not many Delvians around, says Shellec, taking her veil off, revealing blue skin, blue eyes, and a smile. You knew from the start, didn't you?
Zhaan nods again, closing her eyes for a microt as an answer.
- How did you...?
- I fled as soon as it started to go the wrong way, explains Shellec. I was on Tritia when the news came about the Peacekeepers stepping in. I couldn't go back, but I wasn't far enough to my taste. How's the old Bitaal, still hanging on to power?
Zhaan opens her mouth but no words come out. How can she tell it? Instead, she opens up her mind to the inquisitive blue Tiarra. It takes only a few microts to explain it in mental images, feelings and emotions.
- You could have lied, says Shellec after their connexion has ended, feeling ill at ease from such truthfulness.
- I have stopped doing that too, says Zhaan.
- That stinking frellnik got what he deserved, mutters Shellac. We should stop lying too.
- How did you get here? asks Zhaan, curious.
- It's a long story, sighs Shellec.
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
MEANWHILE, IN THE HOSPITAL
Thäa wakes up in a sweat. She sits up and looks around. No one is looking in her direction as she gets up. A cramp folds her in half, then passes as quickly as it had come. Pestering about the sweets, the hot tea and the cold one, Thäa inches her way back to the door, taking her coat from the back of a chair as she exits.
Opening the door takes all her strength. Once on the other side, Thäa shivers uncontrollably, teeth chattering, almost dropping her coat as she tries to put it on. One sleeve seems to elude her. As she looks behind to find the hole to put her arm in, a strange dizziness sends her reeling, half dressed and completely disoriented.
- Let me help you, says Stark, coming to her rescue.
- I'm dizzy, she whispers, almost in tears.
He helps her put on her coat and holding her by the waist, almost carrying her whole weight, he takes her away, far from that accursed door. They stop only when they have reached a blossoming lennox tree, with pink flowers larger than his opened hand. This door is nowhere to be found, but Stark is sure this is the right place. He remembers the smell of the flowers. They only have to wait for the others to come back, then they'll leave.
Stark looks around but the table and chairs have been taken away. With nowhere to sit her, Stark slumps to the rock border of the path and takes Thäa on his lap. She immediately circles his neck with both arms.
- Help me, she whispers as she clings to his fur coat. I'm so dizzy.
- Don't worry, I'll help you, says Stark in a quivering voice betraying his soothing words.
Thäa tries to close her eyes, but it's worse. She opens them up, gasping. The green around her is pulsating, undulating, but luckily, her stomach holds on fine.. for now.
- What's happening to me? she asks, holding on tightly.
- You'll be fine, Thäa, he says gently. Zhaan will...
- No, not Zhaan! exclaims the Féerian. She'll think I'm still a child, needing to be cared for.
Stark looks down to her, and she understands by his look, that's exactly how he feels. A few moments ago, she would have been insulted by such a look. But now, she knows he's right. He told her to stay away from that door, and she went ahead, more to spite him than from real curiosity.
- You really do care about me, don't you Stark? she asks in a sweet little voice. I mean, you're not doing this because Zhaan told you to? Of, course, you wouldn't tell me that.
- I would, if that was the case, he says in a low whisper. I've never lied to you, Thäa... never.
- That's sweet, she says, gently kissing his rough cheek.
She's still holding on to his neck, but it's not from sheer panic anymore.
- You're a good friend to me, Stark, she whispers. No, more than that, you're... family.
He looks at her, blinking, at a loss for words. In all his life, so few people have said this, fewer really meant it.
- When we were in the Unity circle, she says in a faint voice, I felt you so strongly... I almost blew out your cover. I'm sorry Stark. I'm only a Féerian. Most of the other races consider us as overgrown children... They are right... and you were right too. I should have listened to you.
- Curiosity is the path to knowledge, he says calmly. I've learn that from Zhaan.
- I lack her wisdom... and yours.
- It comes with time and patience.
Thäa smiles. She has heard the same words from Zhaan countless times.
- I meant it, Stark.
- What? he asks, confused.
- You're like a brother to me, Stark. I hope I can be more than a burden to you... in time.
- You already are, Thäa, he says, ill at ease to disclose his true feelings.
Thäa nods, then looks behind his shoulder, at the moving darkness, which doesn't oscillate at the same rhythm as the plants. The black shadow become grey, then lighter, and soon transforms itself into the young girl she has healed. She recognises her at the stained glove.
- Maru, whispers Thäa.
The girl puts a finger to her lips, from over the veil, and Thäa, who was about to speak to her, closes her mouth. Maru extends her hand in Thäa's direction, and Thäa does the same over Stark's shoulder. The top of their fingers touch lightly, then Maru puts her free hand to her face. A faint golden glow crossed the thin fabric, for only a microt, then the girl runs away.
 |
Stark has felt something, for he strains to look behind. But the girl came on his blind side, and by the time he can turn around enough, without pushing Thäa to the floor, and look where the girl was, she's already gone.
- What did she want? asks Thäa, puzzled.
- It's a gift, he says, stroking her long golden hair. A marvelous gift. You'll understand... when you're strong enough to use it. |
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
MEANWHILE, AT THE OTHER END OF THE GARDEN
Shellec is pacing back and forth as she recalls her escape, first from Delvia, right after the cancelled election to the High Council, then from Tritia, when Peacekeepers were seen hovering in their black crafts over the capital. She pauses frequently, to find the right words, and sometimes not. on those occasions, she tilts her head to the side, like she's straining to hear faint voices. Zhaan understands how dependant Shellec is about her ability to read minds. She can't stop doing it, even while conversing with someone else.
Then, she goes on telling her story, like nothing happened. She recalls the Peacekeepers were already on Delvia when she learned about Bitaal calling for them. Soon, they would close the frontiers, establish check points, quotas, filtering all transport inside Delvian Territories and Possessions, make everyone's life impossible. Shellec fled, and made her way from planet to planet, solar system to solar system, staying as far as possible from any Peacekeepers sighting.
- Ka'halaan is still with me, she ends up. The name has changed, but the Goddess won't ever be far from my mind, my heart... my soul.
- It would be nice if you could believe it, says Zhaan, mockingly. Your voice betrays you, Shellec. You have no more faith in our gentle Goddess, than you have about the fate of this planet.
Shellec stops pacing in front of Zhaan, which is still seated, and nods slowly.
- You are right, Pa'u Zhaan, she sighs. I am a witness to the downfall and yet, I am unable to change its course.
- Act now, before it's too late. Their lives are in your hands.
- Give me the strength, Pa'u Zhaan.
Zhaan shakes her head no.
- You already have what you need. Use it. Don't wait until there is nothing more to be done.
- Shellec? comes an eerie voice from the Tiarra's clothing.
She unfolds a flap from her veil and under it, a comm badge emerges.
- Yes, Hime, she speaks into it.
- Are you alone? asks the raspy voice from the little round chip.
Shellec looks at Zhaan and, obviously lying, says that she is.
- The test is conclusive, says the raspy voice. Keep the young one here. Get rid of the others... by any means. We have what we were looking for.
- I told you not to do it, says Shellec, whose musical voice had gone one octave lower in anger.
- I listen to all voices, says Hime's voice with contempt. That doesn't mean I'm bound by your decisions. The girl will be included in the Perennial Mothers. That's my final order.
- I'll get the others out, says Shellec, closing the communication.
Looking straight to Zhaan, she says:
- I'm ready to act. Can you access your crew from here?
Zhaan nods, a fleeting hand to her chest as she's guessing who the 'young one' is.
- I can protect you all, but you have to be close to me, until I can get you out, says Shellec, beckoning Zhaan to follow her. Call them, get them to the linnox tree. You'll be able to get out faster by the staff's exit.
- Aeryn? asks Zhaan from her comm badge.
|
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