Any child of the Reef understands the importance of The Rules and often have them committed to memory long before they are capable of writing them down. Obey your parents. Listen to your teachers. Respect the Queen. Always ask permission before Linking with someone. Stay away from the airlocks. Never waste water.
Sofia is eight years old and beginning to grasp that The Rules are not just for children. She has a vague understanding that her very existence is a result of her parents following The Rules diligently enough to be granted permission to have a child. Now and then, she'll ask her parents if she'll ever have a brother or sister. After all, the Queen has a brother, why shouldn't she? Mama always smiles and says they must wait and see what They say ("They" are the people who make The Rules but she's not entirely sure who "They" are beyond the Queen and Prince Uldren). If They think the hydroponics bay is producing enough food, if They think there is enough potable water, if They think the atmospheric systems can handle it, then They may authorise that tiny, longed-for population increase.
Papa seldom says anything when she asks, he just sighs and clenches his jaw. Very occasionally, he will mutter something along the lines of, "It shouldn't matter what They think," Mama always shoots him a warning look and he does not say any more. Papa does not much like Them, or the Queen, so Sofia has one extra rule to remember: Never repeat what Papa says about the Queen outside.
Sofia is bored. She has finished her homework, Mama is out working in the hangar bay and Papa is at home but he is reading. He is always reading, every chance he gets. Mama often teases Papa about it, she says he should have been a Cryptarch. She is not really joking though, not really. She probably would have preferred that, she would worry about him a lot less. Sofia knows Papa is smart, definitely smart enough to be a Cryptarch but she just cannot imagine him being cooped up in the libraries of 10 Hygiea. Besides, that is another thing Papa likes to mutter about, he does not approve of the Cryptarchy's obsession with locking knowledge away in engrams.
Sofia walks circuits of their modest quarters, performatively sighing and swinging her arms. "What's the matter?" Papa asks, peering at her over his book. She crosses over to him, taking some satisfaction from the fact that her theatrics succeeded in
distracting him from his studies.
" 'M bored," she mumbles, flopping against Papa's side, as though the ennui is so crushing she can barely stand. "Can we go to the observation deck? I'm bored." In these moments, Sofia thinks she would like to be a Corsair like Papa. The Reef is so confining with so little space and so many rules, it must be exciting to explore beyond the asteroid belt, salvage ships, fight off marauding Fallen (but oh, how Mama would worry if both her husband and daughter were to venture into such danger).
"No, it's nearly time for your bed," Papa replies. His tone of voice is not too stern but he has a way of making it clear that his word is final.
"It's too cramped in here, I want to see the stars."
"I can take you tomorrow, I'm off-duty." He smiles faintly, "If you think this is cramped, you should have seen the pod your mother and I were assigned after we got married. It wasn't much more than a wardrobe. This is positively palatial compared to that."
"They could have given us a window," she complains sullenly before launching into another dramatic sigh. "Papa, I'm bored!" She emphases the last syllable, drawing it out because Papa clearly did not hear her the first two times she said it.
"Come here, Starshine," he pats his knee, motioning for her to sit, "come read with me."
Sofia wrinkles her nose, they make her read in school. She never understood why Papa reads for fun but she clambers into his lap nevertheless. She peers at the title at the top of the page: This Lime Tree Bower My Prison. She immediately starts firing questions at him:
"What's a lime tree?"
"It's a tree that limes grow on."
"What's a lime?"
"It's a type of fruit, we don't have them here, they only grow on Earth"
"What are they like?"
"I don't know, I've never tasted one. They're green, I know that much."
"Oh. What's a bower?"
"It's…" Papa pauses to search for the right words. "It's like a shelter formed from tree branches."
"So, someone chopped off the branches and built it?"
"No, no, the trees grow that way, it's a natural canopy." Sofia frowns, trying hard to visualise something that could come into being without being designed, crafted and manufactured by people. The only world Sofia has ever known consists of the man-made and space, nothing else.
"How can that be a prison?" Sofia doesn't know much about trees, having never seen a tree in real life but she is fairly certain you cannot lock someone up in one.
"Why don't we read on and find out?"
It takes a long time for them to reach the end of the poem. They take frequent breaks for Sofia to ask the meanings of certain words or to insist that Papa describe natural phenomena that he has no more direct experience of than she does. He does not begrudge the near constant interruptions, he never loses his patience. He is happy to take the time to explain that no, leaves do not have to be green, they can be other colours too, or that a rook is a type of crow (no, not like Prince Uldren's crows, this is a real bird) and yes, waterfalls do exist. Sofia says she understands but the look of wonder on her face at the thought of such an abundance of water suggests she does not truly grasp it.
"What do you think?" Papa asks once the barrage of questions ends.
"If he was so sad, why didn't he just go with his friends?"
"I don't think he could, I'm not sure why. We'll have to ask the Cryptarchs if anyone knows." Papa runs his finger across the final lines of the poem, "But it didn't really matter by the end, did it?"
Sofia considers her answer. "No, because he was happy that his friends were happy." She sits up straight as a thought occurs to her. "How did he see what they did? Was he Linking with them?"
Papa laughs softly, "No. No Sofie, he just imagined being with them. This was written by a human, hundreds of years ago. Humans can't Link."
Sofia settles back down and rests her head against Papa's chest. She feels a sudden pang of sympathy for her human cousins back on Earth. She mentally reaches out to her father, tugging gently at the edges of his thoughts. The response is instantaneous. Suddenly he is there, in her head, his mind enveloping hers like a blanket.
"What's wrong, Starshine?"
"You said humans can't Link. It must be lonely," The sensations of warmth and safety emanating from Papa compound her sadness. She cannot imagine what it must be like to never feel her parents' love for her. She doesn't want to.
"Well," he begins in a reassuring tone, "you can't feel the loss of something if you've never experienced it, so they're probably okay."
"That's not true. You've never been to Earth but you miss it. That's why you read about it all the time."
Papa does not try to deny it, he cannot lie to her, not while they are Linked. "I...I'm curious about it. I'm not sure we should have abandoned it."
"It does sound nice." Her melancholy gives way to a sharp spike of excitement that echoes around Papa's mind like birdsong. "Does water really fall from the sky on Earth?"
"It does. There's rain, rivers, oceans. More water than you could ever dream of."
"Can we go there?" She has a feeling that this is most likely against The Rules so she adds, "One day?"
"Perhaps." Sofia senses a hint of frustration in his emotions. "It depends what They say."
Sofia sighs. Them again. "We'll go," she states, her childish confidence is an unstoppable force that has not encountered the immovable object of politics yet. "We will."
"You mother would have to agree to it as well. She might take more convincing than the Queen."
"Just tell her about the water." Sofia is convinced this strategy cannot fail because Mama hates water rationing.
"I'll do that."
"Will Mama be home soon?" Sofia swallows a yawn, determined to stay awake until her mother returns from work.
"Not for a while yet." Sofia can feel her eyelids growing heavy so she curls into Papa's embrace. They are still Linked and he is thinking about music now; a soothing, plangent melody she does not recognise (where does he learn all this? He should have been a Cryptarch). Papa gently gathers her into his arms and carries her to the cupboard that passes for her bedroom. She grumbles in protest when he lays her on her bed but he shushes her softly and bids her to sleep through the Link. It is more effective than any lullaby. "She'll be here when you wake."
When sleep takes her, she dreams of roaring brooks, calling birds and how wonderful it would be to swap the prison of a cramped, windowless pod for a sun-dappled bower.
Notes: The title comes from the Moon OST by Clint Mansell. It was a working title originally but it just stuck.
The Link is my name for the Awoken's latent telepathic abilities. The canon doesn't make it clear what the extent of those abilities are but we know the Queen can communicate over vast distances with the help of the Techeuns. The very fact that she was expecting a reply implies these sorts of abilities aren't limited to the Queen (though she's likely the most powerful). Awoken can hear the stars "sing" to them and have visions so, yes, I think it's fair to say even the most ordinary Awoken have some telepathic ability.
This Lime Tree Bower My Prison was written by Samuel Taylor Coleridge and he couldn't go hiking with his friends because his wife had spilled boiling milk over his foot. Ow.