Gratuitous Epilogue

25 - June

June 10

Everyone

I was an absolute stress-bunny in the week leading up to Operation Move-to-Muina. I got so bad that I needed to prepare myself before picking up Tyrian, or I’d set him bawling. All the practice I’ve had with visualisation exercises came in handy, though Kaoren eventually had to resort to the pillow barrier in bed to allow one of us to get some sleep.

We’d decided, after much debate, not to take the kids with us, but to stream what we were seeing to them. This would satisfy Sen’s overwhelming need to know, and also KOTIS' extreme reluctance to stand both of their precious touchstones in front of a gate to another planet. Siame, who finds Tyrian a strange and fascinating creature, agreed to be official adult-in-charge, with Jeh and Ketz as back-up. The rest of the First and Second, both those on active duty and those taking breaks, came along to watch me fret.

KOTIS has built a little observation station out near the Earth gate. It’s usually unmanned, but the technicians go on day-trips out there to take readings from the gate, and it proved a good place for us to sit while waiting in the chill of late Winter. The gate was due to align about an hour after dawn Pandora-time, and in the late afternoon in Sydney. My Mum-projection had assured me that they’d arrive early and stay well past the time we’d predicted – and she promised to check the day before and the day after, but I was still this white knot of nerves.

KOTIS has decided not to send anyone through the gate to Earth – at least not until they’ve found a way there via deep-space – which I think may be due to my guesses as to how alien emissaries (without spacecraft) would likely be treated by the authorities. Two greensuits were standing at ready by the gate, and when it aligned they held long, thin poles with little triangles of cloth on the end through the gate to form a makeshift corridor since, while natural gates don’t have the same issues about attracting Ionoth, it still isn’t a good idea to run into the edges of them.

I was struggling not to dig my fingers into Kaoren’s arm, holding on to him hard and occasionally remembering to breathe. Because for an achingly long time – at least THIRTY SECONDS – there was nothing, just some poles vanishing.

And then, Jules.

He was running, mad grin on his face, light brown hair sticking up in a Tintin crest, arms and legs everywhere. He almost crashed into one of the greensuits, spun to a halt and then bounced around in a circle so he could see acres of snow-dusted forest, observation post, and the numerous spaceshippy looking fliers we’d used to get there.

"It’s real!" he said – shouted – as he bounced. "Take that, you fuckers! It’s real! It’s real!"

Jules hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut about his sister off touring alien planets. That went as well as could be expected, but I guess he’s getting the last laugh now. Other than wishing he’d been able to bring a few of his (few remaining) friends, he’s been in a ferment of joy ever since.

While Jules was still sproinging in a circle, I let go of Kaoren and ran forward, because Dad was there, and I hadn’t known how much I’d missed him until I saw him blinking and giving the greensuits his bemused "I-come-in-peace" smile.

"I thought you weren’t coming," I said, as he swept me up in a bear hug, and made me feel all of five again.

"You think I’d pass up a chance to make sure you’re happy, kiddo?" His voice was all choked, and he squeezed me tight, lifting my feet off the ground.

"This is Kaoren," I said, and they had a moment of awkward Dad-meets-Husband, but I’d taught Kaoren the shaking-hands custom and so he was prepared for it.

I’d been distracted by new arrivals: not Mum and Aunt Sue, but a vaguely familiar woman, and a man carrying a girl tucked into a blanket, her head covered by a fluffy pink beanie. It was only when I saw Alyssa that I recognised them as her parents.

"Alyssa!" I said, surprised and pleased but inwardly shocked because Alyssa should be a lazily smiling blonde girl with a perpetual air of amusement, not strained and grim with red-rimmed eyes.

"Do the meet and greet later, Cass," she said, gripping my arm. "How good is their medicine, really? Your diary said they could cure cancer."

I probably gaped a little longer than absolutely necessary, but then turned to the greysuit escorting us for the outing, Ista Temen, and explained, with help from Alyssa. Ista Temen, though she was no means an expert in the area, asked a couple of questions and looked cautiously at the fragile, stick-like being which should have been Mad Maddy, Queen of the Caldwells, or at least Alyssa’s youngest sister.

"What you describe is something we are usually able to correct," Ista Temen said. "But this child is at the edge of death. There could be no guarantee."

"But it is possible?" I asked, and she nodded, so I translated and Alyssa’s parents started crying, but there was no time, and the monitoring greysuits were already giving the warning that we were past the halfway point.

Mum had arrived when I wasn’t even looking, and Kaoren had gone to greet her and Aunt Sue. Aunt Sue was carrying a furry cat-carrier, with Mimmit inside and decidedly unimpressed. Mum was wearing her Celtic dragon t-shirt, which she must have resurrected from the old clothes boxes in the garage specially for the occasion. Mum thinks she’s so funny.

With a quick smile for me, she told Alyssa’s parents that the gate was going to close soon, and Alyssa’s Dad carefully handed Maddy to my Mum, and then hugged Alyssa, and said something in such a choked voice that I couldn’t understand him.

They left and Alyssa stayed – the Caldwells have three other children, and lots of family they weren’t willing to leave behind, so Alyssa is here to be Maddy’s family. Then Dad came up and squeezed me again and followed. I’ve asked Mum what his new wife is like, but she won’t say much. Aunt Sue tells me more by pulling faces.

"Everyone this is?" Kaoren asked Mum, in his tentative English, and she nodded, so the greensuits began to withdraw the guide flags.

And then Nick came through, backward, falling flat on his ass in the snow. The greensuits were the quick-thinking variety, and immediately dropped their flagpoles and grabbed Nick instead, pulling him away from the gate (thus saving him from being a considerably shorter Nick). Nick, who naturally would find visiting alien worlds an excellent preoccupation, had chosen not to go with Alyssa because he felt he had to stay and look after his Dad. And his Dad had pushed him through the gate at the last moment, which I privately think might be the best thing my former Uncle has ever done.

The day’s mood had of course shifted considerably with the arrival of Maddy. Maze took Maddy from Mum, freeing her to hug me, and I was suddenly exhausted. Nick, after a moment’s shock, shook his head, dusted himself off, and went and hugged Alyssa, who promptly burst into tears.

Tsur Selkie, who had rather unexpectedly come along to watch, suggested we get everyone out of the cold, and we piled in the fliers and took a quick trip to the platform to check and fix security clearances. The aether didn’t like them, which I guess means my original security access was purely because I was a touchstone. And of Muina’s handful of Earth immigrants, I’m still the only touchstone. Kaoren and I explained a little more to the kids – and various officials – while we travelled and by the time we were through the platform processing a small group of medical experts were waiting at the KOTIS facility. Ista Chemie took everyone else for the usual inoculations and interface install – and an interesting discussion over whether Mimmit needed to be immunised – and then we sat for a while, waiting for the experts' early verdict on Maddy’s chances.

She was in terrible shape. She’d been diagnosed a few months after I’d strayed, had gone through chemo and into remission, and it was only about six weeks before Mum was quietly making arrangements to "go overseas" that Maddy’s condition had nose-dived, and the chemo just didn’t seem to be helping. And there was Mum with my diaries, full of regrowing eyes and limbs, and cures for most cancers.

When Mum had first received and read them, she’d photocopied certain sections and gave them to Dad and Jules, Nick, Alyssa and the Aunties – she says that she figured I’d not be comfortable with everything I’d written being passed around. Outside a very small group (and the kids Jules had shot his mouth off to), the official story was that I’d turned up alive and well overseas. It wasn’t until Maddy’s relapse that Alyssa had made any attempt to tell her parents about what I’d really been doing, and of course they didn’t believe her. But as Maddy got worse and worse, I guess even completely off-the-wall ideas became something to cling to.

Mum, Aunt Bet and Aunt Sue had all sold their houses, and made an outrageous offer to the person who owned the house in front of my estimated gate location. Those people wouldn’t sell, so Mum & co bought the house next door. That made waiting for gates to other planets a lot easier, and also really helped when Maddy’s parents "took her overseas to see a specialist". It was a terrible risk, and even in the short time they had Maddy at the new house, her condition went so rapidly downhill that it was no wonder that Alyssa was barely holding it together by the time the gate opened.

The first thing the Muinan medics did was bathe Maddy in aether, which is something they’ve been trialling for critical cases. Even Taren medical science can’t cure cancer in a day – a least not the kind of bone marrow issues Maddy has. For one thing, they use the interface to assist treatment, and Maddy was in no state for an install. It took nearly two months before she’d recovered enough condition even for that, but the effect of the aether was immediate and very apparent. I wish it had been possible to tell Alyssa’s parents the good news straight away.

Earth will never be the same if KOTIS manages to find a way through deep-space. I stupidly hadn’t even thought of the implications for Aunt Sue, who has been listening to so much music, and who dragged my Mum off to skin treatment and came back looking thirty. Life expectancy is so much longer here, and by Taren standards they’re still relatively young.

Alyssa wanted to stay with Maddy, but after the medics assured her that her sister would be unconscious – and stable – for most of the day, she let out her breath and looked at me, and said: "How is it that we’re on an alien planet, and I can see a spaceship through that window, but all I want to do is lie down?"

"You wait till the headache hits," I said, and hugged her. "C’mon, let’s go meet my kids."

"It’s going to take me a long time to adjust to the idea of you having kids."

"I think it’ll take me a while too," I said, and laughed.

My big adjustment was to Nick and Alyssa being here. Of all the people I knew before I stepped onto Muina, Alyssa was the one I spoke to the most, trusted with my thoughts. We’ve both changed so much, and it was a little weird between us at first, especially because I hadn’t known she liked Nick, and felt like an ass for all the times I’d talked to her about him without realising. Kaoren has become what Alyssa once was to me – the person I talk to – and it took weeks before Alyssa and I had a conversation which felt in any way normal. But then something clicked, and we were sitting down on the lake shore watching the kids dare the chilly water for their first swim of the season, and suddenly we were Cass and Alyssa again, different but the same. It was easier with Nick, who was a little shocked to be here, but has decided it’s a good thing, and is very glad not to have had to give up Alyssa after all.

Mum – in a way it feels like Mum’s been here all along.

I’m so glad that the kids and Kaoren have at least a basic command of English. When we all trooped into our lounge/dining room around midday, Siame and the kids had lunch set out ready for us, and were waiting in a line (looking rather like Siame was drilling them on how to stand up straight). Tyrian was asleep, tucked in his portable cot, and I saw Mum’s eyes go briefly to the cot, but then she was guessing their names, and telling them they could call her Grandmother or Nan or Laura, and introducing Aunt Sue and Jules, and Nick and Alyssa. And then I showed her Tyrian, and she was very quiet for a moment, and said she wouldn’t wake him up. We’ve had quite a few discussions about him since, of course, and she says she can see a hint of her father in the shape of his face, but that he really is extremely like Kaoren. Thankfully Tyrian would mean, at most, from Tyre in English, so she didn’t laugh.

Mum had brought presents for each of the kids (other than Tyrian) – she had the hugest backpack, but only one change of clothes (and no-one had brought coats). Aunt Sue had brought a year’s supply of coffee and chocolate (OMG TIM TAMS!). Nick’s backpack had two laptops and a dozen portable hard drives, with every movie and book and game he and Mum could collect in a year.

After lunch, after settling everyone in their rooms (Alyssa had slept even less than me), Mum emptied out her backpack. Sen of course loves presents, and tore hers hastily open. It was a collection of fairytales, worn from frequent use, the cover beautifully illustrated with a coiling dragon. Sen touched the edges almost reverently, then turned and held it out to Kaoren eagerly. He took it, then smiled. "It’s full of you, Cassandra," he said, then added the same thing in English. We’ve been doing a lot of saying the same thing twice, with distinct vagaries in the translation. All our newcomers opted for the language injection, after the medics decided it was probably my touchstoneness causing issues with it, but it’s still an entire new language.

"That’s was Cassandra’s first book," Mum said. "I would read her a story from it every night."

"And when I could read I must have read them a million times more," I added. No wonder they could feel it with Place. "I’ll read you one tonight, Sen."

"Two!" Sen insisted. She always bargains for treats. And then she hugged Mum, which was an excellent sign, and I saw Ys relax at it, and carefully pick open the tape on her own gift, which was an ereader in a black leather cover patterned with Celtic knot work.

"That, on the other hand," said Mum, "contains many books Cass has never even read. And many that she has. All my favourites." She pulled another present out of her backpack and handed it to Lira. "And this is something quite different."

Dolls. She’d made one of each of us. Kaoren in his uniform. Me wearing a lab rat t-shirt. Ys and Rye holding Sen’s hands – along with a book and a little furry animal. Lira, busy creating a statue of a cat. Mum’s dolls aren’t the cuddle-at-night variety, but fit in the palm of your hand, incredibly detailed, with a stylised realism which is very precise and exact. They’re utterly cool. Lira adored them. So did Sen, which nearly brought on a temper tantrum of epic proportions, but fortunately Mum distracted her by pointing out that she hadn’t known to make one of Tyrian, and would have to get Sen’s help with that. Sen and Lira have both been having doll-making lessons ever since. Lira’s infinitely better at it than I ever hoped to be.

Once Sen and Lira had stepped back from all-out war, Mum hauled out Rye’s present, which was taking up most of the rest of her enormous backpack. He nervously picked at the tape until Sen impatiently "helped" him, tearing the whole huge package open and spilling out hundreds of little packets and bundles out onto the floor. I recognised them immediately, but it wasn’t till Rye picked one up and saw the picture on the front that he understood.

Seeds. Seeds, bulbs, grains, even a couple of Mum’s favourite roses. Hundreds and hundreds of flowers, but also fruit and vegetables, herbs and spices.

"Only scratched the surface, really," Mum said, shaking her head at it all, then smiling at Rye. "But I think we can guarantee a pretty spectacular garden out of all this, if you’ll help me plant it. I’m not used to gardens which are snowed on."

Rye has become my Mum’s biggest fan. So has the botany department, since Rye rather sensibly presented most of the hoard to them. And I had to give her extra hugs because she’d managed to get her hands on seeds for cinnamon trees and cocoa beans. It’ll be years before they’ll produce anything harvestable, but still!

I’m so glad she’s here.

Though I almost took it all back when I noticed how often Tsur Selkie was visiting Arcadia. I was really quite upset when I realised what was going on, and I think that surprised Kaoren, but Tsur Selkie is just so humourless and grim, and didn’t seem like a good fit for Mum at all.

Kaoren listened to the little storm of angst which came flooding out of me, then hugged me and said: "I am almost certain that Sight told him that they were a match the very first time he saw her, in the log of your retrieval from Earth near-space. At that juncture he would have thought it impossible, and I wondered at the time what had hurt him so. I doubt you would have believed the ferment he was in, waiting to see if the gates would align as anticipated. He is someone who has carried a harsh load, and–" He paused. "And I think your mother equal to almost everything. Certainly to knowing her own mind, and heart."

Aunt Sue thinks it’s hilarious, and says it took a while for Mum to even realise that Tsur Selkie was being more than politely helpful. Of course, he doesn’t speak any English, but Mum’s a lot better at languages than I am, and soon was having long talks with him. Which is pretty amazing given that he makes Kaoren look wordy.

She calls him Gidds.

I am so not ever going to be able to process that, or the idea of him being my step-Dad, let alone that Mum’s seriously thinking about the idea of having a baby with him. But Kaoren was right – she’s perfectly capable of deciding whether Tsur Selkie works for her. And I guess he does, because I’ve never seen her smile the way she does now. So I can’t be upset about her doing something I didn’t expect.

Mum brought me a gift too. The book that I’d left half-finished on my bed, so many years ago. Because there’s nothing better than finding out how things end. And starting a new story.

THE END