Dream Called Time (9 page)

“It had nothing to do with her,” Reever said calmly. “I told you that I loved her, but the truth is I did not. I could not.”

I groped blindly until I found the console buttons and stopped the replay. Then I sat and stared at the frozen thermal images without seeing them.

It was easy to understand now why he’d fallen so hard for the slave girl. He’d been faking with me. All these years, everything he had told me had been a lie.

I restarted the disc, and sat and listened and watched as Reever explained it all to Jarn. His voice never wavered as he told her how he had never felt a thing for me. He admitted that he had been curious, and the sex had been a nice bonus, but toward the end he’d decided that he was never meant to love me. I’d just been the means for him to reproduce and learn how to be a daddy.

Unlike me, Jarn seemed confused and upset. She asked him why he’d stayed with me when he hadn’t loved me. And then Reever said something that struck me in the chest like a blade.

“It was you. All this time with her, I was waiting for you.”

After that, I sat and watched them make love in that pasture. The thermal imagery made it quite clear that they both enjoyed themselves thoroughly; by the time they were finished, both of their bodies glowed with heat and satisfaction. As they cuddled and murmured to each other, I shut off the replay.

So now I knew.

It was funny how detached I felt. Later, I suspected, the humiliation would set in, and I would wish I were dead, but now I felt nothing. I got up, put on my footgear, and wandered out of my quarters.

The HouseClan was very fond of greenery, and had allocated the center portion of each outlying city halo to serve as public parks and gardens. I found one that wasn’t crowded with flowers, Jorenians, or offworlders, and sat on a flat rock beside a small artificial waterfall.

Focusing on PyrsVar had kept me from thinking about Reever and Marel, but I could admit now, I had been nursing a tiny flicker of hope about the future. Before tonight, I’d been utterly convinced that Reever had loved me. Maybe that erroneous assumption had nursed and kept alive a shred of hope. If I hadn’t seen the vid, I’d have continued on in ignorant bliss. My pride would have healed; it always did. It wasn’t impossible to think that with time I might have even grown willing to give him another chance.

All my hope was gone. The love I had believed in had never existed.

This wasn’t my fault, and I knew that, but it still ripped at me. I’d always taken that love for granted, and now that I knew it had never been real, I felt as if my heart were curdling inside me.

All I wanted was to be loved. Why couldn’t he love me?

Something tickled my ankle, and I looked down to see a thin ribbon of faintly glowing blue trying to crawl under the edge of my trouser leg. It reminded me of the dancers I had seen on the vid, and I felt like kicking it into another halo.

“I know. It wasn’t your fault, either.” I bent down and coaxed the wind dancer into my hand, where it curled around my fingers and brightened as it warmed itself with my body heat.

Wind dancers were nocturnal creatures, and generally spent the daylight hours draped over a nice warm stone basking in the sun. Another, dark green dancer appeared and fluttered slowly around me until I offered it my free hand.

“I think they like you.”

“Yeah. I have great body heat. According to Jorenian folklore, if you’re nice to them, they’re supposed to grant your dearest wish.” I glanced up at Shon. “But no. You’re still here. So, want to tell me why you’re following me?”

“I bring news.”

I straightened my fingers and watched as the dancers, now glowing with borrowed warmth, began to unwind themselves. “Am I going to
like
this news?”

“That is for you to decide,”3 he said. “Senior Healer Squilyp has arrived. He wishes to speak with you and Reever as soon as possible.”

“He’s out of luck, then,” I said. “Reever is in Marine province.”

“Not any longer.” He turned to the side, and I saw two Terrans waiting at the entrance to the gardens.

My daughter didn’t look happy. Neither did my husband.

“So much for wishes.” I watched the wind dancers flutter up and away.

PART TWO

Tomorrow

Six

I wasn’t sure why I went with Reever to see Squilyp at the Adan’s medical facility. Idle curiosity, maybe. Nor did I object when Shon volunteered to take Marel for a walk around the grounds while we spoke to the Omorr.

Reever didn’t say a word to me as we went to the conference room where Squilyp was waiting for us. He seemed tense and unhappy, not that I cared.

“Did you bring me the data on the alterformation cases treated on Joren?” I asked after greeting my friend.

“I have it here, but there is something else we must discuss. Sit down, both of you.” Squilyp stood behind the console until we did, and then punched up a holoprojection of two human brains illuminated by tiny blue veins and minuscule flashes of bright blue light. “This”—he indicated the right image—“is a scan I made yesterday of the synaptic activity from your brain, Cherijo.”

I folded my arms. “Why?”

“I wished to map your higher-level functions so that I might identify any areas of the mind that are not being utilized.”

“I don’t see any,” I said.

“Neither did I, on your scan or this one.” He turned to the left image. “This, in fact, shows the exact same patterns of activity, which indicate brain function was not compromised by the head injury.”

“If you have a point, Senior Healer,” Reever said, “I would appreciate you making it.”

“Observe.” Squilyp tapped the console, and the two images merged, overlapping each other. “Do you see any variation in the pattern?”

“Why would we?” I countered. “They’re synchronous. Which means they’re identical.”

He nodded. “The left image shows the same activity because it is your brain, Cherijo.”

“That’s terrific.”I got to my feet. “If you’ll excuse me, I really have to—”

“The second image of your brain was scanned a year ago.” The Omorr paused. “From Jarn.”

I sat back down as the implications sank in. “There are variations; you’re just not seeing them.”

“I ran both scans through the neuroanalyzer,” Squilyp said gently. “There are none.”

“Run it again,” I suggested through my teeth. “Use a different medsysbank.”

“I ran it through four.”

I glared at him. “Is this some type of new therapy? You lying to me, too?”

Reever looked at me and then the Omorr. “I do not understand.”

“Thought processes are like Terran fingerprints, or Hsktskt scale patterns, or oKiaf fur coloration. They are unique to the individual,” Squilyp said. “Two different people cannot display the exact same synaptic activity. It is impossible.”

Reever eyed the overlapping images. “Jarn and Cherijo shared the same body, the same brain.”

“But not the same thoughts, the same language, or the same memories,” I tagged on. “We had the same brain but different minds. There can be similarities, but not exact synchronicity.” He still didn’t get it. “What Squilyp is trying to tell us is that—synaptically speaking, anyway—Jarn and I are the same person.”

“You are not.”

“Exactly. Nice try, Squid Lips.” I jumped up and headed for the door panel.

“In a recovery state, a patient who has experienced massive neural-tissue destruction will form a new persona in response to its environment,” the Omorr called after me.

I whirled around. “Then how do you explain me?”

“I cannot,” he admitted. “But I can confirm that you suffered severe memory repression. Think on the stressors involved. You witnessed the Jado Massacre. You were abducted and enslaved. You were nearly killed in the crash on Akkabarr. You believed Reever and Marel were dead, and when that native shot you, you must have wanted—”

“You shut up.” I strode toward the console. “I’m not a coward. I’ve never run from anything in my life. I would never have done this to myself.”

“You were alone, terribly injured, and left to survive in a hostile environment.” His gildrells drooped. “Cherijo, you did not do this. Your body did.”

I leaned in. “Do me a favor, Squid Lips. Go back to Omorr. See your mate and your sons. Enjoy your life, and forget about this.” I straightened and looked at Reever. “We’re done here.”

Reever maintained his silence as we retrieved Marel and returned to the HouseClan pavilion. My daughter offered me a distant greeting, and a polite peck on the cheek. She also responded politely to my questions about their journey and her opinions of the capital, but resentment glittered in her eyes and had erased her usual cheerful attitude.

If she’s still that way,
I amended silently. I could see that someone Jorenian had taught her manners, and she remained well-spoken for her age, but other than that, I knew next to nothing about my own child.

Except that she didn’t want to be here.

Shon remained with me as I took my family to my quarters, and then asked to have a private word with me before he left. I didn’t consult Reever, but stepped out into the corridor with the oKiaf and let the panel close behind me.

“If you wish to change your accommodations,” Shon said in a low tone, “I will give you my quarters and stay in one of the halo hostels.”

“He’ll just come after me again.” I checked the time on my wristcom. “Reever and I have to settle some things. Get something to eat, come back in an hour, and then we’ll head over to the medical facility.”

He wanted to argue with me—I could see that—but I think he also realized I needed to do this. Finally he touched my shoulder and then left.

Back inside my quarters, I heard Reever speaking to Marel in the spare sleeping chamber. His voice sounded firm, while hers was definitely tearful. I caught only a couple snatches of the conversation, but it soon became apparent that she wanted to go back to the Torins. Reever reassured her, and once I was pretty sure I heard her sobbing into his tunic, but he didn’t give in to her.

He emerged ten minutes later and joined me at the dining table, where I was transferring a few things from my garment bag into my medical case.

“She is sleeping,” he told me.

“Good.” I slipped the datapad Squilyp had given me with all the records he had gathered on alterform procedures into my case and closed it. “Are you hungry? I’ll make you something to eat before I leave.”

“Why did you abandon us?” he demanded.

“Abandon.” I paused on my way to the prep unit and then kept walking. “You know, if you don’t want to take another bath in my tea, you should try re-phrasing that.”

He didn’t have the good sense to keep his distance, but came over and stood beside me at the menu panel. “Why did you run away from me and our daughter?”

“I didn’t
run
anywhere.” I dialed up a bowl of vegetarian chili and a thin, crusty Jorenian morning bread that I thought would go well with it. “Shon Valtas and I came by glidecar to the capital to meet with the Hsktskt. He operated the vehicle; I sat and watched the scenery through the viewer.” I carried my food over to the table. “Did you feed Marel before you left Marine province?”

“Yes. Sit down.” He waited until I did and then took a moment to compose himself before he continued. “When I returned and found you gone again, I was very angry. I wanted to find you.” He looked back at the closed panel to Marel’s room before he added in a lower voice, “I wanted to punish you.”

I took a bite of my bread. “And you thought you’d bring our kid here to watch you do it? My, my. Is this really your idea of quality parenting, Reever?”

“When TssVar freed me from the slavers’ arena, I swore never again to resort to violence against a helpless being.” He leaned down. “You made me forget that. You made me want to beat you. As you do now.”3

“You should hear some of my newer fantasies,” I confided casually. “With a lascalpel, full body restraints, and my anatomical knowledge?” I shook my head. “I could introduce you to realms of pain that you haven’t even dreamt of, pal.”

“I would never lift a hand in anger against you, Cherijo.” He straightened. “Just as you would never harm me.”

I shrugged. He was right, but I had no problem with letting him worry a little. “Meeting with Squilyp put me behind schedule, and I have to eat and get ready for work. Can you talk a little faster?”

He sat down beside me. “I do not completely understand human emotion, but I do know about its absence. If I had no feelings for you, Wife, I would not care where you went or what you did.”

I tested my chili, but it was still a little too hot to eat. “Did I ever explain to you the Terran allegory of the dog in the manger? No? It’s pretty simple: You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me. So until you accept that I don’t belong to you, you’re going to continue to do stupid things like this out of anger and misplaced possessiveness. No doubt you will wreck my life—again—and make me and our daughter and yourself miserable in the process.”

His eyes had shifted to such a dark color of gray they looked black now. “You truly believe that I have ruined your life?”

“I guess I could be wrong. Let’s review exactly what you
have
done to me for the last ten years,” I said, using my fingers to tick off each point. “You took control of my body on K-2. You lied to me about who you were. You arranged for me to deliver a killer’s quintuplets at gunpoint. You lied about your friendship with him. You forced sex on me in order to infect me with a killer plague. You pretended to join a ship’s crew in order to stalk me. You arranged a Hsktskt invasion of Joren just to capture me. You enslaved me and forced me to practice medicine on other slaves. You left me to rot as an alien-possessed slave on an ice world. Oh, and then you cheated on me with the bitch who took over my body for five years.” I had run out of fingers, so I looked up at him. “Did I miss anything?”

“You know the reasons behind my actions,” he said through his teeth. “Everything I did, I did out of love for you.”

“But, Reever, I have it on very good authority that you never loved me.” I smiled brightly at him. “Evidently you were just killing time and having gratuitous sex with me while you were waiting for Jarn to show up.”

Something glittered in his eyes. “Who told you this?

“You did.” I nodded toward the room terminal. “Replay the disc that’s sitting in the scanner. You’re going to love the ending.”

Reever went over and switched on the replay. He stood watching until the vid showed him and Jarn beginning to make love, and then shut it off. “Who gave you this?”

“I don’t know. I found it stuck in my garment case.” Here was my supreme moment, the wronged wife triumphant, and yet I couldn’t feel anything. I was numb from the heart up. “The graphics are pretty wonderful, don’t you think? Did she like to be on top all the time, or just when you were doing it outside in the dirt?”

He stared at me, furious and appalled, unable to speak.

“It’s okay, Reever. I don’t really need to know.” I propped an elbow on the table and rested my cheek against my hand as I watched him. “The good thing is that now I completely understand why you were so upset over losing Jarn. After all, she was the only woman you’ve ever loved.”

“You were never meant to hear what I said to her.” He strode over to me. “Cherijo, I am convinced that Xonea did this to break our bond, so he can Choose you for himself.”

“There is no bond. Maybe if you had been honest with me from the beginning, I might have had a chance to have a normal relationship with someone else. Who knows? Maybe even with Xonea.” I looked into his eyes. “At least
he’s
always loved me.”

He turned his face away. “You will never forgive me for what I said.”

“I’m afraid that was pretty unforgivable,” I agreed. “But you can do something to make it up to me.”

Now he looked at me. “What?”

“Take Marel and go back to Marine province.” When he tried to speak, I held up one hand. “Our kid doesn’t want to be here; she doesn’t know me and she’s mourning Jarn. She misses her Jorenian family and friends. You have no reason to stay married to me; you never did. There is nothing to salvage here. So just take her and go.”

“I cannot leave you like this, not after what Squilyp said.”

“The Omorr is wrong. I’m fine. I have friends here, and plenty of work to do. I don’t need you hovering over me, waiting for me to have a psychotic break.” When I saw him reaching for me, I shook my head. “Don’t.”

His hand fell to his side. “I will do as you ask.”

“Great.” I stirred my spoon around the server. “Are you sure you don’t want something from the unit?”

“I know you are not as calm as you pretend to be.” He sounded tired. “You are hurt and confused. You are afraid. I will send Marel back to the Torins, but let me stay. Let me help you.”

“Reever, if I were on fire, I wouldn’t ask you to spit on me.” I tried another spoonful, found the temperature had grown tolerable, and began to eat.

He sat and waited for me to finish, but when I got up and tidied the servers, he seemed to run out of patience. “When will we see you again?”

“I’ll come over and visit in a couple of weeks.” I went to change into some fresh garments, clean my teeth, and braid my hair. I didn’t hurry, and by the time I came out, Shon was waiting for me.

“Don’t let Marel sleep too long. She’ll be grumpy on the trip back.” I picked up my case. “Say hello to Salo and Darea for me.”

“This is not finished,” I heard him say as Shon and I walked out.

Oh yes, I thought, taking every bit of agony inside me and locking it away for good. It was.