Author's Note: Check out a (sorta, kinda) companion video to this story, "Digital Ghost", at YouTube!
Her dad was loosing it.
True had seen him exhausted, before, but this was different somehow. He wasn't groanin' about taking off his shoes and getting some shut-eye, like he always used to when he'd finally arrive home to their unit on the stations after working double duty. He wasn't saying much of anything at all, just mumbling about things she couldn't understand about going 'home.'
They'd been driving at a breakneck pace for at least three or four hours, True figured. She'd long ago lost most of the feeling in her fingers and toes. The whip of the wind and rain had somehow found its way into her boots and her parka, the metal frame of the Dune Rail providing little protection.
Her dad seemed oblivious to the fact that he had been shivering violently over the last stretch of open road. He seemed unaware of almost anything, staring into the distance in a way that made it pretty obvious he wasn't seeing anything at all.
True was a smart enough kid to realize this wasn't about going on an adventure at all, but what he could mean by 'home' made no sense to her. As far as she figured, the only place they had to call home was back with Eden Advance. This morning during her conversation with Devon and Bess, she'd realized they were probably right; that her dad probably didn't want to go back to their tiny room on the stations anymore than she did. Where else did that leave? Where were they running to?
Back when they'd left camp, he'd told her to say goodbye to Uly. Her dad hated that word, he said it always sounded too final, and if you were talking to someone you hoped to see again it was better sometimes just to say "See ya later!" or "So long!"
He'd always told her to save her goodbyes for when they really counted, that way life seemed like you were always meeting people again, and not always leaving them.
After Les and Alex got sick, when her father was feeling better, they'd snuggled up in his bunk and talked about all the special times they'd shared with their friends. Ever since he'd contracted the virus, her dad said sometimes he would remember the strangest things. He confessed that he's never realized what a big part of his life Les and Alex truly were; how many long days and raucous nights spent in their company.
He told her that even though it had been awful to be so sick, he had gotten through it. And now he would always have those memories he'd thought he'd lost forever. He wouldn't really tell her what most of them were, and she was sure that some of 'em were things that were probably better off forgotten, but he seemed happier for it.
He'd been braiding her hair, like he did when she was a very little girl, when True asked him if it would ever not hurt so much, missing Wentworth and Firestein. Her father had whispered that it had almost been worse to think they had died in the crash landing with so many others. He told her that he would always miss them, cause they were two of his best friends, but at least he had gotten a chance to say goodbye.
Her dad swerved the 'Rail quickly, and she stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye. The path ahead seemed pretty clear, but her dad was all over the road, and he tried to stretch his left leg with a grimace. He'd been doing this on and off since they'd left camp, when he thought she wasn't looking.
Her dad was pretty much always getting himself scrapes and bumps and bruises, but he never really complained about them. Mostly he pretended they didn't exist, and so she'd learned that the best way to deal with him was to go along with it. He didn't like other people worryin' about him when they had better things to be doing. True knew that, even though he'd never admit it, when Alonzo and the other guys teased him about being accident prone, it really hurt his feelings.
After the ZED attacked camp, she knew her dad was feeling pretty cruddy, but he was walking around the very next day not at all like he'd had a bullet in his gut. When they'd broke camp, she found Dad watching Alonzo crutch his way over to the Transrover, where Walman and Cameron helped him climb aboard. She'd kept silent, knowing he probably wasn't in a talking mood, so he'd surprised her when he suddenly spoke up.
"I may not be able to pull my own weight, True-Girl." He'd said. "But your old man won't ever be a weight for someone else to carry." That was the last they'd ever talked about how he was feeling. True knew if it didn't matter to him, she should pretend it didn't matter to her either.
Of course it mattered, she reflected furiously as she grabbed on to the railing. It seemed like her dad was going out of his way to hit every rock and crater he could find. He may not always take care of himself, but he looked after the vehicles like they were her brothers and sisters.
Her dad was definitely losing it.
She reached into her pocket, her hand closing around the broken Gear she'd pocketed when she'd stopped to tie her shoe back in their tent. She was pretty sure it was fried, but she hoped that maybe she could at least get it to send out a distress signal or something, anything to help the others find them. Her fingers sightlessly sought out the controls, and she pushed nearly every button, hoping that the headset wouldn't start beeping.
"…shakin' rain. Can't see straight." Her dad mumbled to himself. He cursed again, slamming the wheel with the palm of his hand, and True couldn't tell if it was because of the elements, or if he was in pain, or just plain fed up. She didn't know at who or what, but her dad was definitely furious. She hadn't seen him this angry in a long time.
Shivering in the driving rain, catching glimpse of a stray arc of lightening in the distance, True didn't need any mysterious memory virus to remember, clear as day, the last time she'd seen her father this angry.
When she'd run off to see Gaal that second time, after her dad had already come to 'rescue' her once in the same vehicle they rode in now, he hadn't spoken a word to her for almost two days. She knew he wanted to "simmer down" before he said something he'd regret, but that had been the longest two days of her life! She had almost convinced herself that he was going to stay angry forever, and she'd felt especially horrible because she'd known that helping Gaal was wrong, but she hadn't cared.
She had been sick of this Godforsaken planet and of Uly for always being everyone's favorite. She had been tired of sharing her dad with everyone else. Gaal had said he liked her the best. He said she was his Poppet, and she'd wanted to believe him so bad she even ran away from camp again. She still secretly hoped that, despite what her Dad said, Gaal had at least been telling the truth about that.
But at times like these, moments when she was worried for her dad and she found their roles reversed, True could understand why her dad had been so furious. She was scared to death. Scared for him, because she kept telling herself if she was scared for him she couldn't possibly be scared of him.
"Daddy, I think we should stop for a while. Yale says it's important to seek shelter in a lightening storm. He said if it hits you, it'll fry your brains right inside your skull."
"Well, Yale's not right about everything, True girl. You're more likely to die from a bee sting than get struck by lightening." Yale had told her and Uly that, too, but she knew better than to talk back to him right now. Instead, she decided to play along.
"What's a bee, Dad?" She asked, already pretty much knowing, but kind of confused. The sounded so mean she expected them to be the size of a Koba, or bigger, even, but Yale kept insisting that they were tiny insects, and that they weren't really important to the lightening lesson.
"Not sure, True-Girl. Maybe you should ask Bess. Bess knows everything, right?" His face was stony, and it was pretty much then that she realized he'd stopped making sense all together.
Gently, she put her hand over his, in a mirror image of how he'd squeezed her when they were sneaking away from camp. It had been him reminding her that he was beside her, begging her to understand somehow. She wanted her dad to know that she was trying.
"Daddy, what's wrong?" She whispered, and he flinched at her voice and touch as though he'd just discovered what a bee was after all. The Dune Rail sailed into another rut with a splash that made True wince.
Her dad didn't answer, not with words. But he shook his head "no" with his jaw clenched, the little thingamabob in his throat bouncing up and down like it did when he was really thirsty. He closed his eyes for a long moment, disregarding the road completely.
True just wanted it all to stop- the rain, the frightening speed of the 'Rail, the pain and the fears that were making her dad crazy. She wanted her dad to stop running blind before he got them both killed.
"Why are you so angry at Devon and Bess? The only want to help us--"
"True, stop it." He whispered, wiping the rain from his cheeks as though his daughter was capable of singling out the tears. She continued on, fighting for calm, doing her best to eliminate the fright in her voice.
"They love us, Dad! There part of our family now and they--"
"Just stop it!" Her dad shouted, his foot slamming down harder on the gas petal. The vehicle surged forward, turning the fat droplets raining on them into tiny needles, stinging True's face. "I'm your family! You already have a family, True Eleanor Danziger!"
"Daddy, please! Slow down, Daddy!" True's heart beat rapidly, as if a sudden sense-memory readied her body for Evac Pod 3 to collide with planet G889 all over again. Her father had comforted her then, whispering into her ear that they would be fine, that he would hold her tight.
The day of the crash landing had been the first time in True Danziger's life when she had been consciously aware that he father was lying to her. Maybe it had been his sturdy chest behind her, hitching and trembling with fear, or just that she was old enough to realize that her father had no say in whether or not they would survive the crash. It had been the first time she'd wondered--for only a split second-- if she could trust her father to always be honest with her.
Today was the second time.
The 'Rail was out of control, careening from side to side, and True clutched her father's arm with both hands, knowing she was making it worse but unable to pry her fingers loose.
"Daddy, you have to stop!" She begged, tears welling in her eyes. The tears somehow cleared the blur of the driving rain, and she could see now that her father was crying openly, as though he could no longer contain it.
"Don't you ever think about your mother? Doesn't she mean anything to you?" He implored wildly, swerving sharply to the left to follow a clearer path. The two heavy duty tires caught the lip of crumbling, slushy earth and the 'Rail pitched sharply sideways.
Suddenly True was weightless, and she realized, terrified, that the two wheels on her side of the 'Rail had lifted from the ground. Gasping, she found the courage to release her hold on her father and threw all her weight to the other side of the vehicle. The Dune Rail slammed back to earth with a sharp jolt, and True pitched forward, striking her cheek smartly on the metal frame of the carriage.
Biting her lip, she sat straight up in her seat, taking a deep breath.
Her dad had lost it.
"Vehicle Emergency Halt!" The 'Rail's engine immediately ceased functioning, just like her father had told her it would when he had taught she and Uly all about vehicle safety.
The vehicles automatic break system whirred into life, rapidly decelerating at regular intervals. Her dad let out a gasp of surprise as the 'Rail skidded quickly to a halt. Sending him forcefully into the steering column, his legs crushed slamming painfully against the bar at his shins.
Dad had taught her and Uly about all the parts of the 'Rail. He'd shown them all the controls, and even how to accelerate and steer, before making them both solemnly swear that they would never even think of driving them. He said it was important that every member of the group know how to operate the vehicles. He'd also mentioned six or seven ways he'd be happy to punish them if he ever caught them operating the vehicles.
She knew all this stuff, so she knew that Emergency Halt was not to be used when the vehicle was traveling so fast. Yet, just as she had hoped, the lack of traction that had been hindering them became their saving grace. True held on for dear life as the treacherous mud assisted their slower, safer stop.
Her dad was still slumped against the steering column, but one look at him and True knew that he hadn't been hurt by the sudden stop. He was sobbing, his face pressed against the tarnished metal of the wheel. True took a moment to catch her breath, hunched forward in front of the seat, eye level with her fathers hand, hanging almost low enough to touch the undercarriage. She took his hand, squeezing hard.
"True-Girl…I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." He gasped, his voice a barely audible, watery whimper.
"Everything's going to be all right, Dad." She crooned, flinching as he tried to move his leg and cried out in pain.
"Baby, I didn't mean to go so fast, I couldn't look at her anymore. I know you love your mother, I know you--" She shushed him again, climbing into the seat beside him.
"Stop talking, Daddy. You're sick and you need to calm down, okay?" With all her strength she managed to get underneath him and push him up until he was sitting back in the chair. Though he was soaked to the bone she could a feel his fever heat where her face rested against his throat. True was worried sick, but that didn't mean she wasn't furious with him, too. "You need to rest for a few minutes, understand?"
Her dad lifted his head from his chest to smile at her blearily, nodding as though he had been thoroughly chastised.
"Sweetheart…" True shook her head, still shaken and more than a little unsteady herself.
"Not another word, Dad. We're gonna sit here and catch our breath. End of discussion."
He lifted his hand as though he was weighted to his side, reaching out to touch her cheek, his thumb worrying the bruise that was already beginning to blossom. His red eyes quaked with a tremor of emotion.
True felt her own tears come in a rush as her father gently pulled her against his chest, clutching at her as though he'd thought he'd thought he'd lost her. They sat there for long minutes, the two of them in the rain. Her dad kept mumbling that he was so sorry, over and over, but he seemed to be getting himself under control.
"I need your help, True-Girl." He whispered hoarsely. It was practically nothing, but True thought it was the most her Dad had sounded like himself since they'd left camp.
"I know, Daddy. I want to help you, but I need you to tell me what's wrong." She sighed as the feather light sensation of her father stroking her hair stopped for a moment, hesitant. It suddenly occurred to True that even he might not know the answer, but his answer came quickly, in a rush.
"I'm so scared. I'm so scared I'm forgettin' her…" True didn't ask who. She didn't need to.
She didn't know much about her mom, despite her dad's recent strained attempts to tell her more, but she was well aware of how much her dad had loved her. Sometimes, when he would tell True stories about her--like the time she started a fist fight in a bar full of men--all of the worry wrinkles on his forehead would disappear. She would sit enrapt and watch her dad talk, staring at the ghost of a twenty three year old Drone in love.
It would be impossible for him to forget her.
"Why did we leave camp, Dad?" True did her best to keep her voice even, eager to ease her father's mind. In the dimming light of day he was starting to look pretty pale, and the heat radiating from him had completely thawed her chilled fingers. She knew that he needed to see Julia, but first she had to convince him to turn back.
With a painful grunt, her father inched his was out of the Dune Rail, his breath hissing between clenched teeth as his left leg touched the ground. Without a word he removed his sodden jacket and awkwardly leaned against the vehicle to place it over True's head and shoulders, like a hood. She didn't have the heart to tell him it's insistent wetness was only giving her more of a chill, and she didn't have the nerve to tell him he was crazy to take off his coat in the rain. So she simply sat and waited for him to speak.He moved several paces away from the 'Rail with a staggering limp, never once turning to meet her eyes again.
When he began his voice was so soft she had to strain to listen, but the words themselves through the patter of the rain; they cut to the bone.
"You're mother, True-Girl…she wasn't perfect. She was obstinate, she was…a woman of her opinions. I asked her to marry me, True. I asked her more than once; I don't want you to think I didn't try…I was always tryin'. I just…couldn't make her see how much I loved her. She had her own plans, her own way of seein' things. No matter what I did, how hard I tried, I couldn't make her see that it wasn't…a burden."
True watched her dad's shoulders hunch forward with a shiver, his head down as he spoke to her. It made her think of when she and Uly had borrowed a VR chip from the Martin's tent without permission and Morgan had made them stand in the corner until they apologized. She wished he would turn around. She wished he would come sit with her. She wanted to see his face.
"Your mom had convinced herself that I didn't want to be…tied down. I'll never know for sure, but I always had the sense that she was a little scared of me. That she was sure if she let her guard down, let me love her as much as I said I did, that it was only a matter of time before I jumped ship, broke her heart. See, I'm not makin' excuses for her, because Eleanor Moor could take care of herself, but she was wrong, True-Girl."
Her dad shivered again, his voice hitching unsteadily. True had never even thought of these things he was telling her. She'd only ever seen him as her dad, and it had been natural to her. The two of them made the perfect team. It had never even crossed her mind that he was lonely in a place that even all of her love couldn't fill.
"She was never my wife, but she was the one for me. And I never woulda left her. And I would have followed her to the edge of the galaxy if she'd ever left me…"
Even the rain seemed to fall silent with his confession, with the weight of past crushing down from the open sky. Her mom had left her dad, and she'd gone to the one place he couldn't follow her.
"I didn't know about you, True-Girl. You're mom never told me she was havin' you. After the accident, when the doctor's told me that you're mom…wasn't coming back, but she had you inside her, I should have been happier. I shoulda known, at that moment, that you'd be the best thing to ever happen to me, but I was so angry. I was angry that she hadn't told me, that she'd think for one second that I wouldn't be a good father to you, that she'd ever think for one second that our child's…life…was a decision she could make on her own. That was somethin' I never wanted you to know. I never wanted you to feel, for even a split second, that you weren't the stars and the moons for me. I love you so much, True-Girl."
Her dad paused, his head tilting weakly in her direction only to hang lower at the merest hint of True in his peripheral vision. She couldn't stand to see him so ashamed over something of which he had no control.
"It helps me...to think that maybe she didn't know about you, either. I know how awful that sounds, I know it's a hateful thing to say. But there's a chance that maybe she just didn't know that she was goin' to be a mom…that she would have told me if she knew, that it would have changed everything for us. I would have finally been able to convince her that we were truly a family, that I wasn't lyin' to her when I told her I would always love her, no matter what. I told her that every day; I told her I'd love her forever…"
Her dad's heart wrenching confession dissolved into tears, and as much as True yearned to run to him, to hold on to her father for dear life, she was held in place by a flicker of understanding. The answer, the cause of her father's pain, slipped into focus. The truth was as captivating as it was treacherous.
Her Mom had been dead for years, before she'd been born, even. And as sad as her dad seemed to be sometimes, True had never seen him cry for Elle Moor before the day he'd shown her his Vid Chip. But lately he'd only been smiling half-smiles, the kind that didn't turn his eyes extra blue, the stories about her Mom had been coming less and less, and with greater difficulty. It didn't make any sense!
Her dad shouldn't be upset when he and Devon had been getting along so well. And it was wrong that he was so angry that she and Bess always took such good care of True when he was busy. They should all be things that he'd want, and they were just the things making him crazy. But in her memory, the echo her dad's words wouldn't be silenced.
I wasn't lying when I told her I would always love her…I told her I'd love her forever.
True couldn't help but gasp as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. He wasn't angry at her at all, or at Devon or Bess. He was angry at himself for how he felt about them all; as though abandoned her Mom by coming to care so deeply for these other people in his life. And True had been so happy to have women to talk to, to share things with, the thought hadn't even crossed her mind that it would be disrespectful to her real mother.
She'd never even met her, and she never would.
True hadn't wanted to admit it to herself, but her dad was falling in love with Devon Adair. She just knew it, and even though she had plenty of reasons not to be thrilled by the idea she still liked it much better when her dad was smiling for real.
He had been, until recently. There had been times when she and Uly would sit by the campfire with their parents and it didn't really even seem like the Danzigers and the Adairs anymore. It was like they almost were a real family, with a mom and a dad and two kids to play with each other. Uly was a pain in the neck, but even True's skittish Koba was starting to like him. Devon made her Dad tell silly jokes again, and she was always fair to True when Uly tried to be in charge of everything.
True watched her dad take a few unsteady steps; watched as he sat tiredly on wet and slimy boulder a few yards away. He turned his face to the stars, and she wondered what she could possibly say to make him feel better. No one should ever be so sad to be happy, especially not her dad.
"Daddy, you do love her every day." She said softly, sounded childish even to her own ears. Her dad startled slightly, but still found it too difficult to meet his daughter's gaze.
"I don't…I'm forgetting." He mumbled wearily, rubbing his brow tiredly. Again, True thought of the night she'd snuck down to where her father was quarantined along with Wentworth and Firestein. She recalled a time when remembering had been just as painful.
"You're not forgetting, Dad. You're living. It's not the same thing at all."
Her father cautiously turned to face her as though he'd been awakened from a dream and had just realized he wasn't alone. He wasn't, and at the sight of his drained expression True began to speak. Not to her dad, not really, but to John Danziger, the man who'd once asked Eleanor Moor to be his wife.
"My mother's gone, Daddy, but that doesn't mean she isn't here. When you tell me bedtime stories she's here. And when you help me braid my hair or yell at me for doin' somethin' I'm not supposed to she's here, too. And even if she didn't think you'd be a good dad, or if she was scared to marry you when you when she had the chance, I know that wherever she is she's sorry for that. Because you do love her, and you always keep me safe, and she's watching over us. And even though I never met her, I know that she would want you to be happy. And she would want you to have a family full of people you love."
Maybe he'd hurt his leg, and maybe he needed Julia to give him some medicine, but it wouldn't make him all better.
Bess had told her and Uly a story once, about a boy and a girl who loved each other so much, they would rather die than be apart. It had been sorta boring, but it had been sort of romantic, too, and Bess had used a word that she hadn't really understood until right now, watching her dad watching her. He was heartsick.
True was crying again, but she didn't feel scared or angry anymore. Her dad was listening to her intently, and when she finally caught his gaze she knew what to say.
"Daddy, it's okay if you love Devon. She'll never replace my mom, not for you and not for me, and neither will Bess. Daddy, I love them all, because they're all important people in my life, and I even have enough room in my heart to love Uly and Julia and Walman and Cameron and everyone else."
Her dad was nodding his head, just the slightest bit, but True could already see that through his tears he was finally beginning to realize she was telling him the truth.
"It's okay, Dad. You'll never forget her. I won't let you."
Her father snorted a bit, like he was learning how to laugh for the first time, with a gross sort of sound that made True wish she had a handkerchief, to wipe his nose like he always did for her with his sleeve when she cried too much.
"You're pretty smart. You know that, True-Girl?" He rasped roughly, standing on unsteady legs. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry…I'm not thinkin' very clearly. I've just been so--"
"I know, Daddy. You're a mess." She teased, prying his sodden jacket from around her shoulders. She stood up in her seat, holding it out to him. "You need to put your coat back on, and we need to go back to camp so Julia can fix you up, okay?"
He nodded, but stayed put. Glancing down at himself as though he wasn't quite sure how he'd gotten so far from home.
"Cut my leg up pretty good." He muttered, gingerly resting a hand on the dark patch that had seeped through his cargo pants. True winced a bit as she remembered their sudden stop, how her dad's knees had slammed forward. "It wasn't nothin' you did, True-Girl. You did the right thing. I…I should've…"
He trailed off, standing oddly still not ten feet from the 'Rail, as though there was something he couldn't quite remember.
"C'mon, Daddy. Let's go back, okay? There's plenty of time to talk more later, when you're feeling better. I promise."
"Yeah, okay, let's go back…let's get you out of the rain." He agreed, attempting a small smile, but here was something in his tone, in the way he was trying to sound like his normal self, that suddenly strengthened True's gut feeling that he wasn't.
"Daddy, maybe I should drive the 'Rail back, I think you should rest." She tentatively enquired, suddenly in motion, sensing disaster. She was scrambling to over the guard rail of the vehicle, her boots seeking purchase, when her dad laughed, a single strange bark that caught her off guard.
"I'm okay, True-Girl. I'll drive us back- It's gonna be fine." He declared brightly, finally moving to cross the short distance to the rail.
True's feet hadn't even touched the cool, muddy ground when her father collapsed.