In Arcadia

Chapter Eleven

Gidds' return from Arenrhon coincided with Laura’s weekly family meal with Sue and the kids. Laura was not given to making announcements about her sleeping arrangements, but thought the meal a good opportunity to shift to semi-publicly dating, and so warned Julian there’d be an extra guest. She was fairly sure her son would be a little surprised but not especially upset when he saw who it was: it had to have been a good ten years since he and Cass had given up hoping Laura and Mike would get back together.

The plan had been for Gidds to arrive early to help with preparation, and this time he arrived at her door exactly on time, with a small overnight case in one hand, and a box of a Kolaren treat called keffet balanced on the other.

Laura took him to bed.

Not at all sensible, but very satisfying, and, after all, it had been the better part of a week since they’d seen each other. Besides, she only had him for the night: he would be leaving again almost immediately, to take his daughters away for the weekend. She only wished she’d thought to have him arrive even earlier.

"Fortunately I’d done most of the dinner prep already," she said, not inclined to get up immediately. "I think we can spare a few more minutes and still be able to safely pretend that we’ve just been exchanging mild pleasantries and asking how our days have gone."

"The truth would perhaps suggest that I’ve lost any ability to focus on the task at hand," Gidds said, though with an entirely pleased note to his voice.

Laura smiled, tracing a finger along his collarbone. "You’re very distracting." Then, carefully, because she was still disinclined to rush anything, she added: "Though that distraction makes it hard to see you, sometimes. And I’m trying very hard to see you clearly, Gidds."

He understood her. The sheer natural intensity of the man increased to the point where she felt dizzy, and he responded with a bruising kiss, although did not follow up with declarations. He knew—had no doubt in his Sighted way known from the night of the hailstorm—that a part of her kept pulling away from him. He was not going to push the pace beyond what she found comfortable, although she had a strong suspicion he wanted to. Sight Sight talents were given to certainties.

Since dinner guests were imminent, they managed to postpone further indulgence in favour of a quick shower. Here Gidds paused to examine a large yellow-green blotch down her left thigh.

"You’ve had it treated."

"Yes. Being related to a clutch of Sight talents does cut down on the space for quiet stoicism." She smiled ruefully at the memory. "Kaoren was frowning at me the moment he walked into the room, and Sen was almost distressed, insisting I sit down. Cass sent Ys for a very useful salve, and extracted a promise to come with them on the school shuttle the next morning so I could visit a KOTIS medic. Then she took over cooking."

"I see where Cassandra learned her habit of not informing anyone when she is upset or hurt. What is stoicism?"

Laura explained as they dressed, and they returned to the kitchen well before anyone arrived to wonder at the abandoned crepe batter.

"Did you have to report yourself for spending the night with me, as Kaoren was obliged to with Cass?" she asked, taking bowls of fillings out of the refrigerator, and giving Gidds those that didn’t need to be heated.

"I had myself taken out of your family’s supervision chain," he said. "And made a private report that would not have been necessary if I were not a KOTIS officer. While there is not quite the same strict management around Cassandra now that the crisis has passed, there will always be a level of control regarding interaction with both her and Liranadestar, and that washes over to you."

Too dangerous. Too valuable. Laura didn’t particularly like that KOTIS literally had a committee monitoring developments with her family, but she understood it. Her daughter and granddaughter could be used to reshape reality.

"What happens when Lira, almost inevitably, pushes back on that?"

"Isten Notra has recommended continuing to give her as much freedom as possible without sacrificing security concerns," Gidds said. "Fortunately the decision to allow her to remain with the Ruuel Devlins has proven to be a good one, since they are a steadying influence on a personality which is considerably more volatile than Cassandra’s. But she has been testing her limits—most recently by attempting to stymie the Kalrani set to be her security detail."

"Does she try to leave school grounds?"

"No. She doesn’t wish to put herself in danger, only demonstrate her opinion of KOTIS."

Lira, in the days of old Muina, had been kidnapped and used to power a machine that had almost destroyed her world, and left her in a state that was not quite dead or alive. Even though Muina’s current inhabitants did not fully understand the machinery involved, it was not in the least surprising that Lira wanted to avoid any possibility of the same thing happening.

"Mum! Guess what, I—" Julian, galloping at his usual pace down the stair, checked at the sight of Gidds, who was wearing his uniform minus the jacket, and in the process of putting bowls of filling on the table. But Julian simply switched to Muinan to say: "Hi Tsur Selkie. Hey, are we having crepes? How much grated cheese is there?"

"Feel free to top it up," Laura said, pushing a covered bowl toward him. "What am I guessing?"

"Wouldn’t be guessing if I told you, would it? What have we got to drink? Can I put some spider milk on?"

"If you can manage to heat it without spreading it over everything this time," Laura said, smiling at him.

"Spider milk?" Gidds repeated, carefully sounding out the English phrase Julian had dropped into his question.

"It’s just what we call the juice of those Taren dozai fruit," Laura explained. "Once we saw what it came from."

Dozai juice, when heated, tasted like syrupy coconut milk, and the fruit resembled coconuts—if you replaced thick brown coconut husk with fragile white filaments.

"They just say it’s a fruit," Julian said, opening and closing cupboard doors with as much noise as anti-slam hinges would allow. "Nothing’s going to convince me there’s not something with too many legs laying those things."

"These spiders are large?" Gidds asked.

"Only in nightmares," Laura said, and waved a spatula at Nick and Alyssa, as they arrived. "There’s plenty of them about on Muina, though on Tare the closest seems to be what are called ferat. Although ferat are much larger than Earth spiders." Ferat were eight-legged things twice the size of human hands, and a powerful reason never to venture into the few natural caves remaining on Tare.

"Are we having spider milk?" Sue asked, following Alyssa. "Do you have any of the flavouring that tastes like pistachio left?"

"Maybe," Julian said, emptying the carton of dozai juice into a saucepan and remembering—this time—to put the lid on before setting it to heat. "The zingy flavours are way better."

"Where’s Maddy?" Laura said, watching Alyssa and Nick exchange a quick glance before murmuring their hellos to Gidds.

"Taking off her skates," Sue said, giving Gidds a wide, highly entertained grin. "No interplanetary crisis this time?"

"I usually avoid them," Gidds replied, with his usual equanimity.

Sue: I can never decide if he’s the most literal man in the universe, or secretly funny.

Laura did not have a response for this, and instead said: "So the copies have arrived?" as Maddy belatedly trotted through the patio doors.

"Yes, and they even managed to get the size right," Maddy said, energetically depositing herself wrong-way around on one of the dining chairs. "My feet have gotten bigger, but they made a couple of different pairs around my size. Now all we need is the ice." She glanced at Gidds, plainly not altogether sure who he was, but switching to Muinan to say, with the long halts that showed she was repeating phrases sounded out to her by the interface: "Do you have an Ice talent, mister? We could freeze Aunt Laura’s pond and I could try out my skates."

"Too small," Alyssa said, even as Gidds shook his head. "You’d run right into the edges, Maddy. Wait until tomorrow afternoon."

"You’re the one who wants to make sure you’re not totally out of condition when bunches of people aren’t around."

"Tomorrow afternoon?" Gidds said in Muinan, his expression suggesting a mild revelation. "For a half-kasse after the end of the school day?"

"We’re using the school swimming pool," Alyssa said, eyeing him cautiously. "It’s still too small, but it’ll do to show Maddy’s friends she really can skate. Though the whole thing’s turning into a total circus, with half the school and every second Setari squad inviting themselves along."

"Including at least one of the Kalrani, I suspect," Gidds said. "It’s rare Haelin postpones one of our outings."

"You’re Haelin’s dad?" Maddy asked, brightening. "We started at Pandora Shore on the same day. We’re only in a couple of the same classes, though, because mostly she has Kalrani lessons. Our feet are the same size, so she’s going to try out my skates when I get tired."

Gidds seemed to follow the tangle of English and Muinan easily enough, and said simply: "Thank you for allowing that."

Laura paused in turning out crepes to rescue a near overflow of spider milk, then listened in mild appreciation as Gidds began to ask about skating, and Alyssa opened up over the technicalities of producing a rink on Earth, and how much or little the double edges of the blades needed sharpening. Gidds maintained his usual relaxed but upright posture, listening far more than he spoke.

It wasn’t until the crepes were near-demolished, and the spider milk all gone, that Julian moved from casting Gidds brief sidelong glances onto a small experiment.

"Hey, Tsur Selkie," he said. "What would you do if I went to the moonfall tomorrow night?"

Pandora’s moonfall was a weekly event centred on the ruins of the old Muinan town that had been the settlement’s starting point. It was actually a process to draw the teleport system’s energy source, aether, from the Ena, and was spectacular to look at, with glowing mist seeming to rise toward the moon. But aether—although it had something of a healing effect on Muinan citizens—also acted very much like alcohol. The planetary government had quickly had to set access regulations in place.

Gidds response to Julian’s question was a straightforward: "Nothing."

"I can at least tell you what I’d do," Laura said, annoyed. "Which would start with reminding you that you need to be legally an adult."

"Yeah, but that was a hint, Mum," Julian said, with a suggestion of a shrug.

"Did you pass the technically-grown-up exam, brat?" Sue asked. "No fair beating me there."

Laura joined the spate of congratulations that followed Julian’s nod, although it was very odd to now have both her children possessing a wider range of rights than she had. Especially since there was more than an Earth year to go before Julian turned eighteen. But she wasn’t going to let him off trying to draw Gidds into this particular boundary test, looking at her son steadily until he ducked his head.

"Some of my guild from Red Exchange live in Pandora, and they finally got to the head of the queue to go to the moonfall," Julian explained. “Corezzy said if I passed I could go as his guest, and since most people wear masks to control the aether intake a bit, I thought it would be fun to go and not have people know who I was."

Laura’s immediate reaction involved a firm decision to spend some time with Julian in-game in order to do some initial vetting of this 'Corezzy'—or anyone else inviting her teenaged son to go get drunk. Moonfall attendance might be thoroughly monitored, and the interface something of an in-built policeman, but it was not as if the Triplanetary was without crime or bad intentions.

Gidds, meanwhile, responded informatively: "Tsien Faluden, who is currently managing Arcadia’s security arrangements, would likely assign two Setari to accompany you. They would, of course, need to wear Exclusion Suits, to prevent the aether from affecting them."

Julian’s response to this prospect was as enthusiastic as could be expected. "Hard pass."

"Which is your primary objective?" Gidds asked. "To experience moonfall, or to meet your friends without the burden of identity?"

Julian blinked at Gidds' phrasing, and Sue—watching with an amused smile—said: "A bit of both, I’d bet."

"Moonfall is easier," Gidds told them. "Since you could ask to visit one of the undeveloped platform towns. They are all monitored, but many have no settlements, and it would be easy to arrange a visit with less intrusive security." He looked across at Laura. "Or a family outing."

Laura glanced at Sue—and carefully only at Sue—then said: "I admit I’m curious. I don’t think I’d care to copy Cass' experience of passing out in the centre of town, but the images look amazing. A walk through one of the towns before the aether concentration rose too high might work."

"Sounds like fun," Sue said easily. "I’m in. Provided I can ever pass this stupid adulthood exam."

"But what about me?" Maddy protested. "I can’t do that exam, but I want to go and see what it’s like too!"

"You were double-dipped in aether the whole of the first month you were here," Alyssa said, with just the faintest frown. "You know what it’s like."

"It doesn’t count when you’re sick. I don’t even remember that. Besides, I want to look at it."

"She could wear one of those Exclusion Suits," Nick said, mildly. He turned to Gidds. "If they have any in her size."

"They do. I will process a request for you."

They moved on to dessert then, and ate the star-shaped keffet, a chewy, jellified citrus pulp, while Maddy interrogated Gidds on the details of Kalrani training.

Sue: Do I get to call him your boyfriend now?

Laura: Unless you prefer gentleman caller.

Sue: I wonder what he’d look like in a natty morning suit and a monocle? But, okay, you’ve had the meet-cute, the hot-and-heavy, and set him before the family to admire. What comes next? The ex-wife turning up with a spanner to throw in the works? Or the Big Misunderstanding?

Laura: Neither, I’d hope. Spending some time with his daughters.

Sue: No more wibbling?

Laura shrugged at that, and Sue smiled, and gripped Laura’s hand in brief, silent encouragement. Laura had to admit she was feeling optimistic. And the next month would at the least involve a great deal of being ruined for other men.

Although it was the afterwards that she was beginning to look forward to most. She liked to touch him when they were curled together, both too replete for it to be sexual.

"Are you going to join the crowd to watch Haelin try out Maddy’s ice skates?" she asked much later that night, after the exertion, the lingering shower, and the comfortable positioning beneath sheets.

The faintest shake of his head. "The Setari and Kalrani won’t be able to be fully at ease if I’m there. And Haelin—even now my behaviour with Haelin and Allidi is examined for hints of favouritism. That will be why she didn’t tell me just why she wanted to delay the outing I had arranged with her."

Of course. The Principal’s daughters: considered privileged, no matter how impartial he strove to be.

"It bothered your Sights. Not to know."

"Yes. It’s rare that they don’t tell me things they know might trigger a Sight reaction. But it is important for me to demonstrate a decision not to ask when information isn’t volunteered. Although, on that subject…" He slid his hand down her arm, and linked fingers. "Is the tension that rose around the discussion of the moonfall something you can tell me about? You were annoyed at Julian, but deeply worried for Nick."

"Yes." Laura grimaced, then sighed. "There’s no secret to any of that. Well, not on Earth. Sue handles it far better than I, which is typical of Sue. She is…well, you can’t miss that she’s a very vibrant person, but she’s also had more than her share of hurdles. She started out full of music, you know. Ever since she was tiny she’d play anything and everything she could get her hands on, but particularly the violin. Almost didn’t need lessons. But she started going deaf when she was eight. She stuck with music for quite a few years, but lost almost all the high pitches, and then the lower ranges faded, and hearing aids only helped a bit. When she was fourteen she put down all her instruments, and hasn’t picked them up since."

"Even though that has been corrected now?"

"She’s been listening to a lot of music since we came here—Muinan and Terran—but she hasn’t gone near any instruments. Back when her hearing loss was shifting from moderate to severe, she took up photography instead. And proved to be extremely good at that as well, making quite a reputation for herself, particularly with landscape photography. She was on assignment in Western Australia—wildflower season—when she met Nick and Nick’s dad, Sam Dale."

Laura lay silent, thinking back to first impressions and happy years. Gidds waited, rubbing a thumb on the palm of one of her hands, and eventually she went on.

"They married about two days after they met. Sam’s a writer—non-fiction books with a sideline of articles—and they ended up collaborating on a lot of things: Sue doing the photography for the articles he wrote. Nick is his mirror image, in looks and personality. Laconic-ironic, I think of it. Nick was ten when Sue and Sam married, and he took to Sue right away. She adored him. Everything was great."

The kind of life people envied. Shared interests. A beautiful home. Frequent international trips.

"The Dales had been in a car crash when Nick was just little. Nick came through unhurt, Sam was injured, and Maria—Nick’s birth mother—was killed. Sam had been driving, and he fell apart for the better part of a year afterwards, then pulled himself together for Nick. But he’d been left with chronic pain, and when Nick was fifteen it flared up badly. He self-medicated with alcohol—something he hadn’t touched since that year after the accident—and…"

Laura faltered, stomach twisting. Then she remembered just how Gidds would be experiencing this tale, and started to draw back, murmuring an apology.

Gidds stopped her. "I am more than capable of shifting myself, if there is something I can’t face," he said firmly.

Laura sighed, but then gripped his hand. "One night—past midnight—I got a call from Nick. He was at the hospital. Sue had a fractured skull. Poor kid, he had to tell me how she got it."

Laura could not stop herself reliving that midnight trip to the hospital, Cass and Julian in tow because they were too young to leave behind and Bet and Steve had been out of town. Nick in the waiting room, outwardly composed, but shivering, constantly shivering, no matter how hard she hugged. Finally being allowed to see Sue: small and bruised and so very still.

"Sue left the marriage after that. Even if Sam had managed to keep himself sober—which he didn’t—there was no way to come back. She wanted custody of Nick, but his maternal grandparents won that argument: Sue could only manage to get him for family trips. After the divorce, Sam tried to dry out—to stop drinking—but couldn’t, and has struggled a great deal with depression ever since. When Nick was eighteen, which is legal adulthood in Australia, he moved back in with his father. And that…helped Sam."

"The boy had an eye injury," Gidds said. "When Cassandra visited your family through the Ena."

"Yes. Nick pulled Sam out of the hole, but he couldn’t move him away from the edge. And when Sam relapses, he lashes out blindly at whoever’s in reach. Doesn’t even seem to recognise them. But we failed completely to convince Nick to put his own well-being first. He wasn’t even going to come here, despite he and Alyssa being so close, and I know for certain he’s worried about how Sam is holding up because he’s no longer there with him. I’ll never forgive Sam for hurting Sue, but I am grateful for the moment of clarity that made him push Nick through the gate to Muina."

"And you fear the boy might become distressed during a moonfall?"

"I don’t know. Nick faces situations relating to alcohol with complete aplomb. He’ll even accept a drink to be social, but I’ve never seen him finish one. He never gives any hint he’s bothered by anyone drinking around him, but we worry about him."

"I will arrange for Exclusion Suits for all of you, then," Gidds said. "It will allow you to experience a moonfall at its height, and control your exposure."

Laura thanked him, but searched his expression at the same time. "Will you find yourself being accused of favouritism because of your relationship with me?"

That brought out his flicker of a smile. "Not beyond those who would criticise me for breathing. I would be more likely held to account if I didn’t arrange something like this. Don’t underestimate who you are. The debt owed to your daughter is literally impossible for us to repay, because she allowed us to use her to regain our home world, and to save ourselves. Cassandra is the reason we are alive."

His expression had become very still, although his voice remained clear and steady as he went on: "And, when she was trapped in the facility that was the source of our problems, I am the person who gave the order to detonate charges rather than continue to try to rescue her."

Laura had known that already, although she’d not thought about it in quite those terms. It had obviously been weighing on Gidds.

"So you did," she said. "I don’t know how I would have felt if she hadn’t lived through that, but when the decision is between everyone definitely dying including Cass, or Cass alone possibly dying, I’m fairly sure she and I have similar views." She paused, because his expression had remained very still and shuttered. "It would have made every difference if Cass had died. But, so far as I understand that situation, setting off those charges saved her life, even if the entire building did drop on her head in the aftermath. I’ve neglected to thank you."

She raised their joined hands and kissed his fingers, and knew he would feel the certainty that lay behind her words. And perhaps even her clear awareness that Cass and Laura’s own positions on this world—where her daughter had the gratitude of millions, but was not allowed to leave—was more complex than it appeared on the surface. It was very fortunate indeed that Cass wanted to stay.

Laura watched Gidds struggling not to fall asleep, and thought about Sue’s five years of marriage, and her own ten. They had been happy, and then things had changed, and there was no guarantee things would not change with Gidds. They would grow together or grow apart, and she had no way of knowing which it would be until they lived it.

Admittedly, Gidds' complications might involve interplanetary politics. Would her attempts to promote ties with Earth cause him problems? Would KOTIS' plans for Cass drive a wedge between them?

Laura closed her eyes, refusing to get drawn into worrying through all the worst possibilities. She would get to know the man better. She would enjoy it.

She really was enjoying this.