Aftermath

Maybe he’s better off without me.



CHAPTER 34



Gehenna hasn’t changed.



Five turns isn’t a long time for the dome city, I suppose. Part of its charm is that it doesn’t shift. There are no gorgeous sunsets or sunrises, only the endless titian swirl of the gases in the sky above. Today they are especially dramatic with bursts of red and orange, mingled with paler cream. Zeeka stares up, mute with wonder.



I have to translate any conversation that occurs for him, which means he needs a chip and a vocalizer, as soon as possible, if he qualifies as a jumper according to Carvati’s tests.



Mentally I switch to Mareq, and say, “Pretty amazing, isn’t it?”



“I was reborn here,” he answers.



True enough. But how remarkable he knows that.



The Big Bad Sue passes all the locks without difficulty, and soon we disembark at the spaceport. I watch Zeeka to make sure he’s not overwhelmed by it all, but he appears entranced rather than terrified. Hit leads us through the customary searches with a minimum of fuss, then we look for a place to stay near the market, which is colorful, as always, full of diaphanous fabrics and belly jewels, totemic carvings and sacred kirpan. That much has not changed, but the air is smoky today, full of burning kosh. It makes my eyes water. I remember when I lived here before, how I would come to the market to shop before I began my shift at Hidden Rue. Old thoughts fill my head.



It’s like penance. There’s a reason I ended up here. I didn’t do right by Baby-Z, so I’ll make it up as best I can. It’s not what I’d choose to do, but I don’t even know what that would be. The most important thing is that I’m accomplishing it by myself.



As I turn to leave the market, an old woman catches me by the arm. “Your shadow troubles you.”



I expect to find a fortune-teller soliciting me, reading cards or bones or peering into a cup to glimpse my future in sodden leaves. But this woman is simply garbed in black; she might be a cook or a housekeeper, certainly someone’s grandmother, for her back is bent and her face withered.



“My shadow’s fine,” I reply with a frown.



“She is not,” the stranger insists. “She has gone away and dreams another dream. You shift what lives inside your skin until she does not know you. And without her, I do not know how you will face this destiny hanging on you. So many ghosts walk behind you, so many ghosts . . .” She shakes her head and sighs. “I will light a candle for you at Mary’s shrine.”



At that she releases my arm, and I expect her to ask me to pay for her blessing or insight, but she merely wraps her black shawl around her head and hurries on, as if she’s tarried too long.



This feels as if things have come full circle. In guilt over what happened to Baby-Z, I fled to Gehenna to seek my own path, and now, here Zeeka stands, gazing around at all the marvels. Aliens are common enough in the dome that he’s not drawing undue attention. I suspect people don’t realize he’s the first Mareq to travel thus, or he’d be bombarded with attention from the paparazzi.



Then I realize why I’ve got that old woman in my head; she’s watching me from across the market. She’s even more stooped and wizened than she was when she accosted me, a black shawl wound around her slight body. I murmur an excuse and cut across to meet her. She stands patiently, as if she expected me.



“Good day,” I say, for that’s the accepted greeting on Gehenna, where there are neither nights nor mornings. “Do you remember me?”



“Should I?” Maybe my mind’s playing tricks on me. I mutter an apology and turn, but her voice stops me. “You found your shadow, and you faced your destiny, and came out stronger on the other side. But at what cost, Sirantha Jax? At what cost? Yet you are nearly to the end of your road, so have no fear.”



Nearly at the end of my road. What does that mean? I wonder if she’s saying I’m going to die soon. It would almost be a respite at this point. I don’t know if I’m ready, but I am so fragging tired.



I spin to question her, but there’s only a vendor selling lovely, hand-painted fans. She raises a brow at me, but I shake my head and return to the others. After chiding me for wandering off, Hit finds us a berth for the night, a hostel with a club attached; their musicians are paid to provide an appealing background, not make conversation impossible. Mikhail’s is a sophisticated establishment, known for good food, expensive wine, and quiet entertainment, making it a rarity in Gehenna; dark faux-wood and wine red upholstery adds to the upscale ambience.



In the warm amber light, I study my companions. Hit shows the least signs of aging; her dark skin looks much the same, her features strong and elegant. I realize I have no idea how old she is. Argus, too, has changed since I saw him on New Terra; he’s a man now, not an eager boy. His shoulders are broad, and he’s lost the hint of gangly youth. From what he said on the way from the port, he spent the last five turns working with Dina and Hit as their navigator, and he wears that experience in the form of a little swagger in his stride that makes women turn as he passes.



“Is there anyone special?” I ask him, over drinks.



Argus shakes his head. “Not since Esme.”



He’s not as carefree as he seems, then. The memory of the girl he lost haunts him still. First love can hit you like that, though for me it’s the loves who came after Sebastian that have caused me the most pain.



For the first time, I understand something of what it must be like for Vel, watching everything change around you while you remain the same. It isn’t a blessing as some people would imply; it’s a curse. Anyone who wished for immortality is out of his head, as it means constant loss.



“So you just vanished,” Dina says eventually. “You want to tell me how that happened? We searched for ages before leaving the beacon in case you found your way back to the village.”



If they hadn’t, Vel and I would’ve been stranded on Marakeq until the next ship arrived, which could’ve been a hundred turns. I might’ve died there. A cold shudder works through me.



“Thanks for that. You saved our asses.”



Dina smirks. “Like usual.”



After the food arrives, I tell our story. That carries us through until the desserts. The others listen with silent astonishment, interjecting only the occasional question. I don’t think Zeeka is paying any attention at all; he’s too busy soaking everything in.



“The Makers,” Argus says, shaking his head in wonder. “You’re going to be famous. Well. More famous.”



Just what I need.



“Bidding on the Maker sample is up to ten million credits,” Vel puts in.



Hit shakes her head. “You’re gonna want find somewhere safe to put that stuff. It’s not worth your life, and collectors would absolutely kill for it.”



I grin at her. “You’d know.”



Later, as we’re all mellow from the drinks, of course, Dina asks, “Can I see your scar?”



In answer, I pull my shirt up and show her the bite mark. “Satisfied?”



“I can’t believe you survived,” Argus says softly.



“I have Vel to thank for that.”



“And I would not be here if not for Sirantha.”



The mechanic glances between us, a frown building, but she doesn’t speak of whatever conclusions she draws. Instead, she says, “In the morning, we’ll go see Carvati.” After a moment, she adds, “You should expect March in the next few days, as soon as he can hop a ship.”



“He hasn’t moved on?” I ask softly.



Her eyes widen. “Did you think he ever would?”



Hurt and gladness tangle together, until I don’t know what I feel or what I want. At this point, I might as well wait to see him in person. I need to send him a message, but if he’s already en route, my vid-mail will bounce past him. Frag, I have no idea what to say to him. I’ve missed him, but it hasn’t been turns in my head, so we’re coming at this separation from different perspectives. For me, it felt like longer while he was fighting on Lachion, but my perception isn’t the truth. On the other side of that gate, Vel and I parted company from the world we knew.



“So how’s everyone else?” By that, I encompass a number of mutual friends.



“Surge and Kora aren’t on Emry anymore,” Dina says.



“Oh?” That’s right; they were staying for Siri, but the kid must be pretty old by now.



“You missed her vision quest. I had to do it without you.” Her tone grows somber. “That, more than anything, made me think you must be dead.”



Shit. We were named godmothers of the child we helped deliver on board ship on the way to Emry Station. I had been on the docket to take Sirina into the wilderness with Dina in some Rodeisian cultural tradition. Instead, I had been trapped on the other side of the gate while life went on without me.



“What was it like?” I ignore what she said about my premature death.



Smiling faintly, Dina explains how she spent three days roughing it while the girl chanted and danced. It didn’t seem spiritual to her, I guess, but I’m sure she was properly respectful of the tradition. I wonder if she thought of me through those days, if she thought, Mary curse it, Jax is supposed to be here for this. By the shadow in her green eyes, she missed me. Mourned me. And I don’t know what to say.



“I have something for you,” she adds.



“Oh?”



In reply, she hands me a data spike. I stare at it with a question in my eyes. “Research?”



Dina shakes her head. “It’s Constance. When Surge and Kora left Emry, her duties ended. No more troops to train. So she asked them to download her, and they brought her to me.”



“Why didn’t you install her in the Big Bad Sue or get her a new body?”



“Because she’s yours, Jax.”



Huh. So Constance will be going with me to La’heng. Maybe I can find a body for her there. Surely there will be some Pretty Robotics salvage.



“Thank you. This means a lot.”



“Anytime.”



From there, we talk a little more about people we know. Share stories about some of the missions that Hit, Argus, and Dina have run.



“It’s fragging weird without March,” the mechanic says. “But he can’t be budged from Nicuan. I tried to tempt him with a big job not long ago.”



Hit nods. “He laughed. Said he was done with that life.”



I’m left with a knot in my throat as I wonder what else he’s done with. Despite Dina’s reassurance, I won’t believe there’s anything left between us until I see him. Idle conversation carries us along for another hour, and then it’s beyond time for me to crash. The others speak their good nights, and I see Zeeka to his room.



The bed puzzles him. “No moss?” he asks.



“Nope. Make the best of it.”



“This is part of the test,” he croaks.



“Sure. G’day, Z.”



I have a hard time believing we’re back, and I’m not used to being alone. For that entire ordeal, Vel stood beside me, and I feel like I need to see him before I can fall asleep. My steps carry me to his door, then I wonder if this is a dumb idea.