Behold a Dark Mirror (16 page)

CHAPTER 15

As Jenus's cautious inquiry revealed, emigration on a no-questions-asked basis was indeed a means of leaving your past behind.  And then, there was Hawwa.

He left his hotel room for the last time and walked to Wayford Park.  He took his electrogun, making sure its bulge under the coat was conspicuous.  It took him a while to find Hawwa's ruins.  The door was locked;  knocking didn't help.  He sat on a pile of rubble and waited.

Three adult women guarding a flock of children came in sight in the distance.  The women sat, and the children played some sort of game.  One of the women noticed Jenus and pointed him out to the other two.  One stood up and made her way towards him.  Closing in, she raised her arms and yelled to Jenus.

"I'm Julia, I'm a vestal seeking refuge.  That," she pointed to her friends and the children, "is my temple."  She stopped, as if waiting for a reply, her hands held high.  Jenus didn't have a clue what that meant or she wanted.

The woman appeared puzzled, but Jenus was too far away to know for sure.  She said,  "May I come closer?"

Jenus reckoned she was no harm.  "Sure," he yelled back.  She came in and stopped a few feet away from him.

"Hello, stranger.  I don't know you," Julia began.  She wore a straight white gown, and a loose cape striped in green and purple draped across her shoulders.

"No, you don't," agreed Jenus.

"Can I help you?"

"Like what?"

Julia looked confused, as if he had missed something obvious.  "I am a vestal," she repeated.

"You already said that."

"And you told me to come closer."

"Indeed."

"This is me.  That is my temple.  Girls...  And boys."

"So what?"

"Well..."  she said.  "I can arrange anything."

"Anything what?"

Hawwa appeared around the corner.  Jenus noticed her;  she saw Julia, and drew her hand to her mouth.  Then, Hawwa took a short step as if to proceed to her door, but stopped as if to leave.  Julia looked at her.

Jenus called,  "Hey, Hawwa!"

Julia looked at him as if he had committed a serious breach of protocol.

"I see you are not serious," Julia said.  "For this once I won't report," she added, turned around and left.

Jenus stood up and scratched his head, watching Julia walk away, then looking at Hawwa, who was holding her breath, her cheeks flushed with anger despite her olive skin tone.  What had he done now?

"Hawwa!"  He walked towards her.  She stood, petrified.

"Jenus, I see I must have made a mistake.  You are not welcome any more," she said with a sharp, bitter edge in her voice.  She headed for her door, her neck stiff, her gestures mechanical.

"Wait!  What's going on?  Hawwa, stop, please, tell me:  What is a Vestal?"

"The person you just talked to.  What do you think you're doing talking to me now?" she said, with a catty
I-am-not-one-of-that-kind
look.  Jenus could imagine her arching her back and hissing; not anxious to feel her fangs, he kept his distance.

"For heaven sake, what's going on?"

Hawwa stopped and looked at him, squinting, her head sideways:  "How long have you been around Wayford Park?"

"All of two days."

"You don't know what a Vestal is?  Tell me the truth!"

"Not a clue, I swear!"

Hawwa looked at him.  "You're amazing.  I guess one of these days you'll tell me where you're from."

"So, what's a Vestal?"

"Come along," she said, "I'm choosing to believe you against my better judgment."

He followed her through the door, down the stairs.

"Here, sit down," Hawwa said, pointing at the bare concrete floor.  She disappeared behind the next door, locking it behind her, then reappeared with a cup of salty soup, which she offered to Jenus.  She sat next to him, a bit too close.

"You swear you really don't know what a Vestal is?"

Jenus's neck sunk within his shoulders, head shaking, hands gesturing ignorance.  "Cross my heart," he said.

"Well, when a girl gets in trouble—you know, she fools around and gets pregnant, that kind of stuff, then she can do a few things.  She can kill the baby, like have an abortion.  But few do it.  Many carry to term and sell the child;  with the money they make they usually get by till the next baby comes around."  She looked at him, then continued:  "Unless the baby is lame, 'cause none would buy a lame child.  Then they have to..."  She stared into the facing blank wall, pausing for an instant before going on.  "Of course, sometimes the father settles in, but that's rare.  Even so, the girl is alone again in a few years more often than not.  They—these girls, I mean—can tough it out alone, or can join a temple and become Vestals."

Hawwa looked at Jenus.

"So?"  Jenus asked.

"So what?"

"What is a temple?  What do Vestals do?"

She looked at him, puzzled.  "A temple is a...  A family," she explained, and stopped.  "Well, that's a bad word for it, I mean, just some adult women living together with all their children and maybe some stray ones, too.  They sell their children and themselves to carry on, and raise those that remain until they're old enough to mind for themselves."

"So Julia was..."

Hawwa waited.

Jenus continued:  "She was peddling her sex."

"Yes," Hawwa assented.  "Maybe.  Or one or more of the children in her temple.  But you're right, you didn't look like you wanted a...  You don't, do you?"

"No," he reassured her.  Whatever she was thinking, that wasn't Jenus's habit.  "I understand why you were upset."

The boy at The Clearing,
Jenus thought.

She nodded her approval:  "Child buyers are worse than the sellers.  Sometimes the reasons are OK."

"What did she say that she wouldn't report?"  Jenus said.

"Temples are like...  They're organized, pay tributes, have a security system.  Life is hard around here, Jenus.  Temples can make a good living, and they guard their business."

"Did I make trouble for you?"

She shook her head.  "I don't think so.  Next time don't let them near, though. 
Any
Vestals, I mean."

"You bet.  I..."

"Yes?"

"I brought something for you.  I wanted to thank you for saving my life."

"This is nice of you.  Are you...  Do you want to stay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," she denied quickly.

"Hawwa, if you had one wish, what would you wish for?"

"Only one wish?"

"Well, yes."

"Then, I need to think hard."

"Take your time."

After a while she came back from her thoughts, looking at him as if he were the last man on earth.  "One wish, I think I'd like you to—"

Jenus interrupted her before she could finish:  "Here, open this," he said, giving her a large envelope.

Hawwa took it, hiding disappointment with marvel:  "For me?  Do I open it?"

"Please do."

"Will I be obligated if I open the envelope?"

Jenus looked at her.  "No catches, Hawwa.  Just a thank-you for my life—for what it's worth."

"This is the first present I've gotten in a long time."  Inside there were three cards and a printout.  "What is this?"

"You know how to read:  Go on, find out."

Hawwa flipped through the boring-looking printout for a good starting place.  She began reading the dull prose, looking up repeatedly at Jenus, her gaze at first puzzled, then incredulous.  When done, she started weeping, tears dripping on the pages.

She looked up.  "This is real, Jenus.  It is, isn’t it?"

"It's all good stuff."

"Why're you doing this?"

"I told you."

She sniffed, clearing her eyes with her hand.  "I can't believe it's true."

"It is, Hawwa.  A life for a life."

"Tell me more about Raarad Principal."

"What I know I learned at the library.  It opened two decades ago as an agricultural settlement;  it’s pretty, maybe a bit boring.  Safe.  Two hundred thousand settlers live there now, with a good balance of men and women.  Raarad Principal feeds Raarad One, Two and Four, which don't support life but are useful for other reasons.  Principal looks like Mother Earth;  it's a good world."

"Are you coming with me?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm wanted.  Raarad Principal is a prime destination.  First-class only.  They don't take questionable settlers any more."

"What about you?  What are you going to do?"

"I'm leaving.  Where I'm going is, well, classified.  Sorry, Hawwa.  For your good as well as mine."

"I'll go alone, then."

"You'll like Raarad Principal.  You won't be alone for long, but even if you are, there's a pre-arranged homestead contract.  It's yours; it's at the bottom of the papers."

She dug down to it and read it.  Then she said:  "I..."

"You?"

"I can't."

"You can't what?"

Hawwa, crying, insisted.  "This is worth a huge amount of money, Jenus," she said between sobs, "Deep space framepost passage, a settler's agreement on a world like Raarad Principal, a homestead contract, farmland!  How did you pay for all this?"  She dropped the papers to put her head in her hands, crying.

"Tell me the truth, you devil!" she waited.

"It's all paid for, Hawwa."

"Then you stole the money, or made it by killing someone, or something else terrible.  See?"  She stared at him squarely, her eyes red, fixed on his.  "I can't take it!  I want to, but I may not!  I may not take it!"

Jenus breathed deep.  "The money is clean, Hawwa.  I was a successful Guilder, and a few days ago I did something really stupid."

She quieted suddenly.  "Like dad."

"You have in your hands a good chunk of the cash I withdrew from my legal accounts while I was able to do so.  Now I've told you more than I wanted to.  Please, go.  Do it for me.  I need to vindicate myself for a friend I failed badly."

"Your girlfriend?"

Jenus nodded.

"Is she...?"

"She's dead.  I didn't kill her;  her death is the last thing I wanted, but it's my fault she died."

"I'm sorry."

"Enough of this, Hawwa.  It would help me feel a little better about myself if you would accept this gift from me."

"I believe you.  I'll go, and I vow I'll call my first child Jenus."  She thought it over:  "Or Jenusa."

He chuckled.  "Don't feel bound by this promise.  If you change your mind, you're relieved."  He thought again.  "But if the child's a girl, call her Janet."

"Janet—I will."  Hawwa said.  "Will you see me off?"

"At the framepost?"

"Where else?"

"I'm a wanted man, Hawwa.  I've got to be cautious."

"There's a public station not too far," she said.

"When?"

"Let me wash my face, then we can go."

"You are leaving for Raarad Principal like this?"

"Yes.  I'm not leaving much behind, and I'm terrified."

"Terrified?"

She nodded.  "If I blink, I may wake up;  so, if I'm dreaming, I want to wake up on Raarad Principal."  She went to the other room, and returned wearing a clean face, a worn coat, and a backpack for the papers now hers.  "Come along, Jenus."

He followed her to the station, chatting about the weather along the way.  They waved goodbye to each other.

"Your Lord, whoever that may be, watches well over you Hawwa.  Good luck," Jenus told her.

She waved again and disappeared from his sight.

CHAPTER 16

Kebe felt exhausted even after a night's sleep.  She knocked at Nero's door and entered his bedroom without waiting.  Nero was sitting on his bunk in a trance, staring at the wall.

"Nero..."

"Shh."

Her lips opened, but she changed her mind;  slouching into a corner, she waited.  Creases appeared on Nero's brow.  He flickered:  For a split second, Nero appeared like a mirage distorted through hot air.  But the room was too small, the temperature just comfortable.  Kebe squinted, rubbed her eyes, and looked with greater attention.  Nero did it again.  She gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.  This time his body had become translucent.  Nero was repeating what had happened to him in the hangar—on demand!  He seemed to try over and over before giving up, sweat drenching his clothes.

"This is exhausting," Nero said, emerging from his spell.

"Heavens, Nero, you disappeared!"

"So it worked;  that's encouraging.  But I can't read your mind.  Maybe that was a freak side effect."

"That's sensational!  I, you, I mean we should do something about it.  Nero, this is fantastic!  How do you do it?"

"I'm nibbling at the tail a little bit—very little—every day.  I want to see what happens—what it does to me."

"Don't you think it may be dangerous?"

"That's a strange observation from you,"  Nero said.

She replied demure, "I'm serious."

"I feel OK, Kebe."

"
That
is a strange observation about you, Nero."

He smiled:  "Point taken.  I meant my physical condition."

She came closer, probing his skull.  "Does it hurt?"

"All is well," Nero answered.

"All is not well.  We've got to go.  Today.  Now."  Kebe said, lowering her hands to her sides.

He nodded:  "What's your plan?"

"Take off."

"Why are you so scared, anyway?  The framepost is sleeping.  We're in the boondocks.  It seems pretty safe here."

"Call me paranoid.  Paranoia has kept me alive; it has served me well."  Kebe adjusted her hair, looking at herself in the mirror above the chest of drawers.

"Yeah, well, OK.  The generators should be enough to power an outbound framepost, if we don't go too far.  We can go to Locus; it's the closest station.  Then, what?"

"Split.  You go your way, I go my way.  We'll meet later, far from here," she said, checking the skin of her cheek in the mirror, stretching it with her fingers.

"Any advice?"  Nero said.

"Stay out of trouble," she answered, turning around.

"Very humorous.  Locus has a shuttle rental facility.  Who carries out that part, you or me?"  Nero asked still sitting.

"Both."

"Locus won't have more than six or seven shuttles.  We can't rent all the shuttles twice."

"Then I'll do it on Locus, and you'll do it at the next stop," said Kebe, leaning back on the chest of drawers.

"Sure.  Who carries the original?"

"I don't care.  I guess I will, since I'll rent first."

"Very well, Kebe.  On Locus you rent all the shuttles you can get.  You put a copy of the memoirs on board each shuttle and ship them outbound on autopilot;  one will carry the original on board.  I'll do the same the next stop, except I won't have the original.  Is it a plan?"

"Sounds like one."

"It's too simple," said Nero.

"That's good;  it means it might work."

"I'll miss you, Kebe.  Don't get caught."

"I'll kill myself first," she said.

"Even worse."