Niya
It seems to me like that was the shortest revolution in the history of the Seven Galaxies, but as we sit here at Ozker’s country place and enjoy the picnic spread Ozker and Mirz have laid out, I find out from our new friend Wilm that it’s been years in the making.
Aeryen’s busy playing with Ozker’s two kids, and at one point I overhear him telling them tall tales about his exploits about the Marinax. I suspect these tales will become ever taller with each retelling.
Other crew members are here, including Draybirge and Elna, who looked after Aeryen while we were busy rescuing Chlo and Lasson and fighting with the rebels. I guess the Marinax’s bearlike security chief and the feisty Elna, who Chlo told me is in charge of the ship’s manifest, called a truce to their constant bickering in order to be Aeryen’s “parents” while I was away.
Except now they’re back at it again.
“Look at him,” Draybirge is saying. He’s pointing at Aeryen. “He looks fine, doesn’t he?”
“Children have to have a regular bedtime,” Elna says. “It’s in their best interest.”
“Does he look tired to you?” Draybirge says.
“He’s covering it up,” Elna says. “He’ll collapse later. You’ll see.”
But Aeryen looks more energetic than ever to me, and I know him better than either Draybirge or Elna does. Or could.
He’s my son. For just a little while longer. And I intend to enjoy today for all it’s worth.
Chlo and Joston come over and sit down next to me. We’re on a slight rise that overlooks a stream in the back of Ozker and Mirz’s property. Until today I’d never accepted an invitation to come out here, worried about what new difficulties Aeryen might encounter in an unfamiliar environment.
But now everything’s changing.
Wilm and his friends are setting up an election process. Exiles all over the Seven Galaxies are being contacted and told they can return to Engra. Lasson’s sister, Kaera, and her life mate, Fitch, are coming to Engra to talk about Chengdry and Engra’s roots, something no one here knows about.
“I was at the hospital this morning,” Chlo says. “The young king’s doing much better. He’s going to recover completely.”
“That’s more than I can say for his father,” I say. “Chlo, I wanted to save him. But . . .”
“He was going to kill you,” Joston says. “Can’t have that.”
“Lasson’s been so busy the last week, I’ve hardly seen him,” Chlo says. “I’ll be glad to get back on the Marinax and get going.”
“Me too,” Joston says.
A slight breeze ruffles his white-blond hair. He seems so familiar to me, like I’ve known him a lifetime instead of only a few days. And a few nights. Too few.
I look past him at everyone who’s celebrating Engra’s freedom.
“Enough of this hanging about,” Joston says. “We’ve done just about all we can do here on Engra, short of running for office.”
“You’d make a terrible governor,” I say to him. “Everyone would be constantly worried you’d be about to do yet another crazy, reckless thing.”
“I didn’t realize I was being considered for governor,” Joston says. “Would that make me governor-general?”
“You’re lucky Nik’s back on the ship,” Chlo says, “or he’d take you down another rank.”
“I don’t think there’s any farther to go,” Joston says with a laugh. “But I’m happier this way. Titles don’t suit me.”
“Joston!” Aeryen says. He’s torn himself away from his new friends, anxious to spend time with his favorite being in the Seven Galaxies.
We all stand as Aeryen gets closer.
Joston lifts Aeryen up, reminding me of the dream I had. Then Joston spins Aeryen around and around, finally setting him back down.
“Again!” Aeryen says, but Joston shakes his head.
“Sorry, Aeryen, my arm’s not quite back to it yet. Catch me later.” Joston rubs at his wounded arm, which Chlo told me will take a while to heal. The wound was quite deep.
“You’re lucky you have an arm,” Chlo says, “after the way you kept your injury from us.”
“We had other things to attend to,” Joston says. “More important things.”
“Chlo, now that you have your medical credentials back, what are you going to do?” I say.
“She’s going to be the ship’s doctor!” Aeryen, who apparently knows all about everything since his time on the Marinax, says.
“You are?” I say.
“I am,” Chlo says. “Lasson said we could stay here on Engra if I wanted, but I’m so used to life on the ship now that I feel it’s my home.”
“That’s good,” I say.
It is good, because I still intend to send Aeryen with Chlo when the Marinax leaves tomorrow.
Engra may be improving, but Aeryen needs something bigger than this world, a world where he was rejected by his parents and has had to hide his entire life. No matter how things may be in the future, they’ll be much better on the Marinax, and if he wants to settle somewhere . . .
“Mom!” Aeryen says.
“What is it?” I say.
“Joston says it’s time for my first real pilot lesson!”
“He does?” I look over at Joston.
“I had Draybirge bring an aircar down,” he says. “Easier for Aeryen to handle.”
“Come with us!” Aeryen says to me. He tugs on my arm.
“That’s all right,” I say. He might as well get used to life without me. He’s been doing it already, and thriving. “I think I’ll stay on the ground for now.”
“Gee, Mom, don’t you want some excitement?”
Joston, Chlo, and I laugh at this. We’ve all had a lot of excitement lately. A day with zero excitement sounds just right to me.
“Go ahead,” I say. “Don’t do any funny stuff.” I aim that remark straight at Joston Lynar, who seems incapable of doing anything but funny stuff. Dangerous funny stuff.
Aeryen runs off ahead to the airfield that’s Ozker’s side yard. I’ve known him for years but never knew he had this—and the government didn’t know either, which is one way he’s been able to help the rebels for the last decade.
So much has been going on on Engra that I wasn’t aware of. I was just living, taking care of Aeryen, doing my job.
But yesterday Wilm told me he wants me to run for office. That I’m a symbol of something or other. Courage, maybe, although I can’t say that I feel very courageous.
I’m thinking about it. Because I can’t face being on the Marinax. Not with Joston there. Not with what’s turning out to be more than just a prophetic dream . . .
“Chlo,” I say now that Aeryen and Joston are out of sight, “I need to talk to you about something.”
“Not that again,” Chlo says. “There is no way I’m taking Aeryen with us on the Marinax. He has to stay with you. You’re his mom. He loves you. You’re a family.”
“Chlo, hear me out,” I say.
“And everything’s changing here on Engra,” Chlo says.
“It is,” I say, “but I want Aeryen to have this big opportunity—to see the Seven Galaxies, to learn about everything in the cosmos, to make friends and alliances with beings from a myriad of backgrounds.”
“But—”
“But here on Engra he won’t have these opportunities,” I say. “Even with the changes.”
“But—”
“Chlo, you’ve seen his tail, his wrists. He must be Chengdry. He should see his home world, Choryn. Aren’t you scheduled to make a stop there soon? That’s something I can’t hope to give him.”
“But—”
“Stop saying but, Chlo,” I say. “You delivered Aeryen. You’re the first to have touched him. You love him as much as I do. I know you do.”
“But—”
“I asked you to stop saying but,” I say.
“All right. I’ll stop,” Chlo says. “And I’ll—we’ll—take Aeryen. If that’s what you really want.”
“It is,” I say.
“I can’t talk you out of it?”
“I made up my mind a long time ago,” I say. “Everything that’s happened since the Marinax got here has served to reinforce and intensify my decision. I know what I want. And I’m sure Aeryen agrees.”
“You’ve talked with him about this?”
“I asked him where he’d rather be—here or on the Marinax. He laughed at me. How could I not know? The Marinax, of course.”
“But he doesn’t know you mean not to come with him.”
“No buts, Chlo. And even if he doesn’t know, I think he knows.”
“That makes no sense,” Chlo says. “Unless you tell him, he won’t know.”
“But I haven’t been able to bring myself to tell him,” I say. “Not quite yet.”
“I thought we’d eliminated but!” says my oldest, dearest friend. She runs her hands through her raggedy orange hair and the two of us laugh.
“Sometimes I wonder what my life would’ve been like,” I say.
“Without Aeryen?” Chlo says. She folds her arms over her chest. We watch the group playing, talking, eating.
“I still don’t know why you can’t come too,” Chlo says.
“Of course I can’t,” I say. “My job is here. My home. I’m Engra. I can’t see myself anywhere else. I need the ground beneath me.”
“And you’re going to run for office, aren’t you?” says Wilm, who’s walking toward us.
“Maybe,” I say, but what I mean is no. I want nothing to do with government. And, anyway . . .
“Lasson said he’ll meet you on the ship,” Wilm says to Chlo. “There are some things to clear up here.”
“I still can’t believe he never told me that he was supporting you,” Chlo says to Wilm.
“Better for everyone,” Wilm says. “I still can’t believe you risked coming to Engra, Chlo, and I wish you and Lasson would stay. Think of all the good you could do here.”
“Thanks, Wilm, but I belong on the Marinax now. It’s been so long since I’ve lived on Engra that it feels like a foreign world to me.”
“I’ll never be able to repay you for all you’ve done,” Wilm says to Chlo. “You, Lasson, Nik and Aymee, and Joston. But at least I’ll have a chance to repay Niya.”
We all hear a sound overhead and everyone looks up.
An aircar whizzes by us, going much much much too fast.