My Mother The War
I saw you watching me just a few night ago. I'm sure it was you. You realised I had seen you and you pretended to be drunk; as if you people still allowed drunks to walk the streets. You are a terrible actor. You should get a tattoo: I'm With the Watch', right across your face. It would be more subtle. It was all I could do not to laugh, even though seeing you told me what would happen next. And now you've got me here. And you want to know why I did it. Well; I'm going to tell you. Not that it will do you any good.
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I met only a couple of Minbari during the war. A prisoner or two; and Asho. I guess that's how you'd spell it. It was long before they decided to abandon the colony; long before that order came to defend the perimeter until the last civilian transport had gone. We were in a foxhole on the rim of the base, watching and waiting. Guns blazed, bombs fell, fighting vehicles moved ahead; we could hear the din of battle from where we sat. And at last it was our turn to advance. Artillery and tanks had softened them up, we were told; and now us GROPOs were to move upon any footsoldiers that remained, mop them up and confirm our victory.
We charged across wasteland. It was fairly easy; a terraformed world, no need for environment suits. We could scream and howl all we liked, just like in basic training. Terrifies the enemy. That's what they told us. Of course it was a trap. The firing started before we had gone a hundred metres. They waited until we were nearer their lines than our own, so we couldn't fall back; and they cut us down. I saw two, ten, fifty of my comrades fall. I couldn't tell if the Sarge was among them. Energy weapons fire and solid rounds flew past me, missing every time. I didn't stop. I didn't think. There was nothing left but survival. I saw a shellhole and threw myself into it.
I was sure I was dreaming at first. The voices mixed themselves in with the pictures in my brain, with Asho whispering in the night and with my dying comrades and the last ship leaving. I thought it was Sergeant Siddhu screaming at us, telling us to get the hell out, turning, charging, as if she could hold them back with a discharged plasma-rifle and a bayonet. She got the Silver Star for that; posthumous, of course. Then the shout faded to a whisper; damp fatigues to dry sheets; the exploding night of Orion Twelve to soft darkness. Home, of course. Home. The smell of rotting garbage from the kitchen; the deep sickness of hangover settling into my system.
Just a nightmare. Nothing new. The drink puts the ghosts to sleep; but they always come out at night.
Then:
I lay rigid. I knew beyond doubt that I was awake. I felt too bad to be anything but awake. The voice came from the kitchen, just across the hallway. There was a click. A dull glow outlined the bedroom's open door and the refrigeration unit started to hum. Someone in my kitchen. I did have burglars.
Hungry burglars?
Very quietly I sat up, dangled my legs over the side of the bed. The display told me it was 03:00. I did not have to worry about dressing. I was still wearing my clothes, as usual. Home at 22:00, just before curfew, I had poured myself into bed without worrying about clothes or washing, thinking as always that the morning would take care of itself.
There's milk in here, Mar. They can't have been gone long. You sure you watched? A whisper on the edge of hearing. Female. Young. Black Country accent. I had gone to bed without switching on any lights. Anyone could have thought me away for the night.
Course. But it's weird, isn't it... The male was less cautious. He sounded, if anything, even younger.
Come on.
Noises spoke of food taken, a carton of milk opened and drunk on the spot, shared between two starving adventurers. I had had enough. Local kids did this sort of thing on a dare, or as an initiation rite. Burglary 101. Not in my apartment. Time for some teaching. I stood, crossed bedroom floor and hallway in two strides and stopped in the entrance to the kitchen.
My burglars were too shocked to move. The scene photographed itself on my retinas: boy and girl in front of the fridge, caught in its light. He: a tall pallid youth, head shaved bald, clutching the milk carton in one pudgy hand; a wide, flat, stupid-looking face above a double chin and a fat belly; thick-lipped mouth open in a comical O' of horror. She: thin, small-boned, kneeling in front of the open refrigerator, her mouth full of my mouldy cheddar cheese and her delicate triangular face absolutely white in the faint illumination. A ridiculous pair of mirror-shades. A head of wildly frizzed black hair. Neither of them could be more than fifteen.
Party's over, kids, I said. Move it out. Tell me where you live and I'll just tell your parents, not the cops.
Neither of them budged. I took a step forward. I have no excuse. I am forty-five years old, six-five, two hundred and forty pounds, not much of it fat. I am a veteran of the Marine Corps and I look exactly like what I am. I was mad at them, at their stupidity and their idiot gang initiations and also at their banal incompetence; but that is an explanation, not an excuse. I was four times the size of her and she was just a little girl. I shouldn't have done it; but if I hadn't, everything would have been different, for all of us. And the fact is that I did it.
The boy started to slink toward the door, head bowed; but the girl jumped to her feet, defiant, and took a fighting stance. Oh, come on, I said. I grabbed her by the shoulder. She stiffened, made to break away; which was when I lost it. I shoved her, far too hard, and she measured her length on the tiled floor.
In no more than a second I took in the scene. The boy stood in the doorway, hand over his mouth, looking as though he might be about to cry. The girl gasped, winded. Something hit the floor beside her head. It was a bag, like a school satchel, which she had carried over her shoulder. The clasp flew open. Something spilled from the bag and landed on the tiles with a metallic clunk. I thought for one split second it was a knife, and moved to step on it before the girl could do anything stupid, but it was no knife. Instead I saw a mechanic's manual file; the sort they use for rasping metal in awkward places. It had a brownish dust on it.
She rolled over, still gasping for breath, violet eyes wide and hands reaching feebly up toward her head. I did not believe what I saw then; not for a second or more. The shades had fallen off, of course. And so had her hair.
Before they started the Watch you saw plenty of punk kids on the street in fright wigs. Some wore purple or pink, but most, like this one, preferred black. Tribal, peer-group stuff; nothing special. But under the wig, the girl's head was bald, and at the back, mangled and flattened by the file she carried but unmistakable, was a ribbed crest of naked bone.
The shellhole was narrow and it went down fifteen feet. There was a foot of water at the bottom, and deep shadow. Winded and soaked, I couldn't move for several minutes, and during that time I saw the Minbari advancing, right above my head. I was frozen. Just watching. None of them saw me. Hundreds of them streamed past, all in that Warrior Caste black. Like watching the SS go by. One or two fell, but not many. It was some time before I remembered I was a soldier, and armed, and within easy range of my enemy.
Orion Twelve was my first true combat engagement. I was a regular, a peacetime soldier. Not exactly green, or so I thought; I had been in the Marine Corps for eight years and before that I was a PT instructor; but I was too young for the Dilgar War and all my duties before Orion Twelve had been on Earth, peacekeeping here and there for EarthGov. I had spent my service time standing between people who wanted to kill each other; not doing the killing myself. In peacekeeping, using your weapon is a last resort; almost an admission of failure. I had done it only a few times, and only against distant foes, snipers and the like. But I knew my duty. Hate the enemy. Kill the enemy. One dead Minbari is one more who will not kill our troops. Any one of them might already have killed Aswinder. I raised my plasma-rifle and fired. On the open battlefield no-one could tell where a shot might come from. A Minbari near the edge of the crater took the shot and fell right on top of me.
I said stupidly. Then, I remembered to add just in time. My head was starting to pound.
The boy moved back toward his fallen companion, helped her sit and gave her back her wig. She placed it in her lap, then looked up at me. Are you going to call the police? she asked.
Her accent was still Black Country. I took in a few more things. Both of them were filthy: shoes, clothes and faces. They smelled bad. The girl's jeans had once been blue, but now they were a shade of mud. Her khaki padded jacket had grass-stains on the elbows and mud on the front. Her T-shirt was a washed-out black, stained white in places from her skin secretions; she had slept in it more than one night. The boy wore chino trousers, a black blazer, and a school sweatshirt which was so dirty that I could not make out the crest. Though he was still pudgy, the clothing hung on him as though he had lost a lot of weight. His head was not bald, as I had thought. He had blond hair, and the extremest of crew-cuts. But even at that length, I could make out the strange pattern of growth, the way the hair grew backwards from his forehead toward the crown, yet grew upward from the nape of his neck. If he let it grow longer it would start to stick up across the top of his head, forming a natural aureole.
I don't know, I said slowly. I really don't know. I guess it depends if you can explain to me just exactly what a Minbari and a Centauri are doing together. To say nothing of trying to steal food from my kitchen.
I'm not a Minbari, the girl said. I'm English. I was born here. I have Earther ID. You're brown. Does that mean you're African? Don't call me a Minbari. Suddenly, shockingly, she burst into tears.
Sssh, Thel, said the boy. He put an arm around his companion's shoulders. He's not interested in that. We're in deep trouble. Deep. You're going to tell the Watch, aren't you? he said to me.
Why? Is there something I need to tell them about? I realised how intimidating I must look. I squatted down in front of them. I'd rather just take you home. I know kids do stupid things on a dare. I was a kid once. I did something like this once, because I wanted to join the gang. And I hacked the Pope's email address and sent a hoax message saying I was the Second Coming. We've all been there. But I think your parents should know. I can't let you...just get away with this. It's not nice, but that's life. Now come on.
The girl snuffled, but seemed to have herself under control again. You are kidding, aren't you? D'you think parents would let us go out like this?
Do you mean go out together, I thought, or go out this dirty? I said nothing. The hangover was getting to me. Dumb, Tom, I accused myself. I see what you mean. Right. And you think I'm going to set the Watch on you. On a couple of kids. Gods, what have they done to...But...This is my apartment. It's crummy. It has no security at all...as you just found out. The vid monitors were all vandalised years ago and nobody cares enough to repair them. It's the pits. But you aren't supposed to be in here. I could just throw you out. But...
The body was heavy. I dragged myself out, prepared to climb from the hole as soon as the troops had passed. I checked: the fall had smashed my comm unit. My only hope, small as it was, was to sneak back to our lines; if they still existed. As I made ready, the body moved and then groaned. The Minbari was not dead. If I could, I would wish for only one thing changed in my life. I would wish that I had climbed straight out; that I had not looked back.
I made a decision. Dumber than ever, I told myself. But I remembered. ...You owe me an explanation. Big time. I want to hear it. But not here, on the kitchen floor. And I can't have you in my living room as you are. Couldn't stand the smell, I raised my eyebrows and deliberately wrinkled my nose, Or finding even more stains on the furniture. So... I stood. Bathroom's opposite. You can take turns to shower. I'll find something you can wear while I put your stuff in the washer. I'll even fix coffee, or whatever you want to drink. And some food. Pizza takeaway, perhaps. In return, I'll have your story. And then we'll decide what to do with you.
said Thel'.
But, but... said the boy. How do we know we can trust you?
You don't.
And...And how do we know you won't call the Watch anyway?
You don't.
And how do I know you won't...do anything to Thel while I'm in the shower?
I did not deign even to answer this one. I just rolled my eyes to heaven.
The boy looked again as if he might start weeping. I relented slightly. Remember, you decided to break in here. You pays your money and you takes your choice. That kind of thing. But...I'm not going to do either of those things. Accept it...or don't. Your decision. If you don't like it, you can just leave. I won't stop you.
Thel' spoke again.
Why not? There's...no. For now...Curiosity. I want to hear your story. I'm lonely. Whatever. Are you staying or going?
The girl stared hard at me, then the two of them looked at each other. After a moment, Thel' nodded. I stared at her, raising my eyebrows; but she wouldn't meet my eyes.
We'll stay. For now, the boy said.
It was a woman. No surprise, in theory. All Minbari fight unless they're actually pregnant; just like the Narns. Just like us. She was quite young. She lay on her back looking up at the sky, mouth moving. Her crest of bone was carved into a dozen needle-points which shone white in the dim blueish sunlight of that place; yet she could be no terrible Warrior Caste aristocrat. Such a one would not be found in the dirt of a battlefield, following orders among ten thousand others. She wore the Caste's black garments and their breastplate; but so did all Minbari soldiers. She was a grunt, a GROPO, just like me.
She was bleeding. The blood was as red as any, dripping from the side of her chest into the dirt. Air hissed in and out of the wound as she breathed. In peacekeeping, you are trained to react in a certain way. I had done that work for a long time. My body decided what I would do before my mind could interfere. I unslung my kit and got out the first aid pack and the field dressing, the IV fluid and the tape. I covered the wound with the fat pad of gauze and plastered it down so it was airtight; I rolled back a sleeve and explored her arm for veins. She was going to die. I knew that. The sucking wound; the internal burn injury; the blood-loss. I did everything I could.
They wanted curry. Clean from her shower, wrapped in a shirt and dressing-gown many sizes too large for her, the girl sat immobile in a corner of my sofa, as I ordered a meal from Akbar's All Night Tandoori. The Watch had given the restauranteur a special pass to allow him to deliver after curfew. He'd have gone out of business without it. Back then, they were still reasonable about things like that. Over the comm line Muhammad looked tired but cheerful. The girl was out of his line of sight. He would assume I was drunk and had the munchies. It had happened before. Some residual battle-wisdom led me to sway a little, slur my words. For authenticity.
As I retrieved my credit chit from its slot I said, I'm Tom Gerrold. It was important to make sure I said that. Are you going to tell me your name?
she said. She chewed at a finger-nail for a moment, then added, It's Theyel. Theyel Riyan. My friend's Maron Getho, but he's a bit sensitive about it. Just call him Mar, if you want him to like you.
How's that?
School. His name's Maron, don't you see? They used to call him...He's really not very clever. But he's my friend.
Oh, I see. Don't worry. I'll remember. Now... I'm sure I stared. Her face, her eyes, her head with its mangled coronet of bone; they importuned me.
Theyel curled herself even more tightly into the corner of the sofa. She chewed her nails a bit more, stared straight at me, eyes wide. When Mar's here, she whispered.
I sat in my regular chair, opposite the vid and almost as far from Theyel as possible in that room. The washer rumbled in the background. Those filthy clothes were giving it the hardest test of efficiency it had ever had, even allowing for my habits. I looked at my hands, at the floor, anywhere to avoid looking into her face. It was my training; I could not help myself. I began to repeat the eight times table in my head. I did not know whether to feel triumph or horror when Theyel visibly relaxed.
I think she knew where she was at first. She flinched away from me, as if from a killing blow. Minbari don't kill their enemy's wounded, nor their own. I have no idea what her superiors might have told her about us. She held my eyes with hers, as I ripped the torn cloth of her fatigues out of the way, applied the dressing. She spoke, but all she said was, It doesn't hurt, and a moment after, It was hours later that I discovered that this was her name.
My Dad is a teacher, she said. Maron sat next to her on the couch. My clothes fitted him a lot better than they fitted Theyel. They had finished their meal and I had offered them what I had to drink: beer for the Centauri, but juice or coffee for the girl. I knew that much. Neither would take more than water. I nursed a beer and listened. He came to Earth just after the War, part of the exchange programme. We sent Earther teachers to Minbar to tell their children about ourselves. To further understanding'. Minbar did the same. My Dad volunteered. Minbari language and culture for sixth formers. Our house is in a suburb of Stoke on Trent. We could have lived among Minbari, there were some around, but my Dad wanted to be with the people he was going to serve...On one side there are the O'Riordans, but they've only been there a few weeks. We don't know them very well. On the other side there's Begum Nasreen and her family. Her husband Mohammad Iqbal teaches at the Muslim school down the road.
The Centauri youth pulled at Theyel's arm. You told me to tell you...
I know, I know. Mar, shut up. I'm telling the story, right? Let me.
Oh. Okay...
I got into terrible trouble the first time I did this. Theyel indicated the state of her crest. I bet Caro - that's my friend, Caroline Jordan - that we could go out together for a whole evening without anyone realising I wasn't human. That's when I bought the wig. Mum doesn't know I got it out of the dustbin. I hid it in my satchel, for bunking off... She stopped, breathed hard for a moment, dashed a hand across her eyes. Stupid. Really stupid. Though I did win the bet...50 credits. I was grounded for a month. Mum wouldn't let Caro in the house. Just sat in her studio with Nasreen, talking about youth today. I knew. I used to listen. She's a silversmith, my Mum. On Minbar, she was in the Religious Caste. Her clan thought she'd married beneath her. She was always on about it. Nasreen understood. People like traders, shopkeepers, teachers, doctors; they're all Worker Caste on Minbar. It's different here. I wanted to be a doctor once. Or a nurse. I don't really know which. Or maybe join Earthforce. I actually used to say that.
She sniffed, then flashed a grin at me; almost apologetic. What I really, really want to do is play football. Real football; you know, soccer...I know I live there, but Stoke are rubbish, especially the women's team...I'd like to play for your team, for Birmingham... she smiled again, dreaming. But I know I'll never be good enough.
I understand. I wanted to be a boxer once upon a time.
You look like you could have been.
Glass jaw... I mimed punching at my chin and knocking myself out.
Oh...Anyway. Because my Mum was Religious Caste, I'm supposed to be as well. Even though she learned silversmithing when she came here. She's very good. Some fashion house in Paris was really interested in her stuff. It was going to make her a lot of money. She'd never have done that on Minbar. That's what she told me. I don't think she realised what this made me think. Nasreen understood her, anyway. That's what she used to say. About duty, and clan obligations, and putting yourself second. Nasreen has eight children; four girls and four boys. That was her duty; that, and educating them. But they went to school and she spent a lot of time in our basement while Mum made her jewellery. Her husband knew. He didn't mind. He got on well with Dad too. They talked and talked.
Theyel took a drink of water. Maron reached out and patted her hand, held it for a moment.
Go on, I said.
Dad told me a lot about when he first came here. Mum had me a couple of months later. Her family were horrified that she was prepared to go and give birth here - People were friendly but wary, he said. They wanted to know about us, but they were still afraid of us. He used to say that the only way to defeat fear and ignorance was by serving the fearful and ignorant; and you know, he was right. As soon as people realised that he really wanted to help, they accepted him. It was like that for a very long time. I didn't even realise I was different from other children until I went to school myself. I'm lucky. I'm not cleverer than the other girls and I'm not prettier. I'm just ordinary, except for the bone on my head. If I was a swot, or best at games or something, I'd have a hard time. But mostly I'm just one of the girls. Caro went with me to big school. She's my best friend. She comes to our house in the evenings and we go on the Web together and look for cool stuff. You know. Then Mum comes in and I pretend I've been on some Minbari site the whole time, looking at the Servitors of Valen's weekly update or something boring like that. I'm supposed just to use the Web to educate myself about Minbar, but there's so much other stuff. My favourite's The Farmboys Home Page. They're such a great band. And I have Web-friends all over. Even on Minbar. There was Roshan and Tilal. And there's Harry in New Zealand and Mira in New York and La'Math on Narn...
Theyel's voice caught in her throat and her face creased. Then she bolted. I heard the bathroom door slam.
Maron said, That's a step forward.
She said she would tell me, Maro - Mar. I didn't hold a gun to her head. I said you could go, and I meant it. You still can. You're not my prisoners.
I know. She will, too. But it'll take a while. You're not interested in me, Mr. Tom. Why's that?
Oh - That's not true, Mar. Of course I am -
My mother used to say that Minbari lie to save face for others, and we Centauri lie if it's politically necessary. But only Humans lie just to make other people feel better. I don't mind, though. It's nothing new. You're right not to be interested. There's nothing to tell. I'm not clever, and I'm not handsome. I'll never amount to anything. My mother and my father and my brothers told me this every day of my life. Leaving wasn't hard. What happened was just the last straw, as you say. But...Mr. Tom, if you're still offering, I think I'll have that beer just now.
She passed out soon after. When she woke up again she was somewhere else. She couldn't see me any more. Through that entire day and the night that followed, she talked to someone else. I heard her words, and understood less than half of it. Like everyone in the Corps I did the week's total-immersion course, Minbari language in case one is taken prisoner. The language is taken from prisoners; most of it's military; Warrior-speak. Ordinary Minbari don't talk like that. The little I did understand, I will never forget.
she said, I am sorry. Varenn, I have to go; you know that. The clan requires it. A holy war. Righteousness...Dukhat...the Humans...Look after the children. I'll see you soon.
Later: Varenn, do you remember when I watched you, before our marriage? I never told you what decided me. You talk in your sleep, Varenn. Asho,' you said; Asho, never leave.' I promised I would not, there in your sleep. I'm so sorry, Varenn.
Then: Tell the girls to light a candle for me. Valen keep you.
It all started to go wrong at the end of last year. Theyel accepted a hot drink when she returned from the bathroom. Coffee; black; no sugar. She lay back with her feet up on the sofa; now Maron was forced to retreat with his pint into a corner. I had a vid-mail from La'Math. She said her mother was ill and she was worried. I wanted to reply straight away but I kept getting the message that servers on Narn were down. I didn't worry. This happens sometimes. StellarCom software is really crappy. It can't tell the difference between an anomalous tachyon-flux and a server crash. Just because they've cornered the market doesn't mean they're any good. But it went on for two days. And then ISN got with it. The Centauri had bombed Narn back into the Stone Age; that's how they put it.
Maron reached over and patted her hand again. I glanced at Theyel, questioningly; and for my pains I got another of her hard looks. He didn't do it! she said.
Okay, okay...
We all thought...At least I thought that Earth and Minbar and the others would have to do something. You can't write off a whole civilisation like that. But they didn't. Minbar said nothing at all. The Drazi and the Brakiri and the rest didn't care as long as they were safe. And we actually signed a non-aggression treaty with Centauri Prime. The President came on the vid to tell us about it. Peace for our time,' he said. I looked it up. I was right; I had heard it before.
So had most of us, I muttered.
...and somehow all these posters started appearing on the street and there were people with black armbands asking to see ID cards if you went to the wrong place at the wrong time and one day last week my Dad came back from work with a lump on his head the size of a golf-ball. In front of me he said he'd walked into a lamp-post, but I heard him telling Mum a gang of youths had been throwing bottles and half-bricks at aliens and one of them hit him and he'd had to run for it and...and I'd never heard my Dad sound frightened before.
There was much, much more like that; and far more that I could not follow. At first I told her to shut up, not kindly. I am sure I prayed for her to die soon. She heard none of it. I tried to call for help, but it did not matter how loudly I hollered, nobody seemed to hear. I tried to leave, to get away from that whispering voice. I tried to climb out of the shell-hole many times; but I was too desperate. I brought the muddy walls down on myself, and made the climb impossible with my scrambling. The last time, I fell beside her. I lay there. Asho did not notice. She rambled on about her husband, her work, the things her father had said to her when she was a little girl, her children; about all the things she would do when she got home. I lay there, forced to listen. I tried to make myself deaf, to understand as little as possible. I emptied everything out of my pack, throwing food and kit and ammunition all over the crater floor and into the water, looking for something I could put in my ears. There was nothing, so I tried mud. It didn't work. I could still hear her.
Can I have another coffee?
I went through to the kitchen. In the sitting room Maron and Theyel whispered to each other, children avoiding Teacher's ear. He asked why she trusted me. She said that he ought to know. I came back with the coffee and two cans of beer. Maron refused his. It didn't matter. I'd drink it myself before it could warm up.
He's worried about you, Theyel said. But as long as I'm happy to stay, so's he, I guess.
I'm glad my burglars approve of me... I took a swallow of beer. Maron looked weepy again, but Theyel just grinned. You were saying - It didn't sound good.
It wasn't. The last six months have been awful. You don't know. Local news just goes on about how the Watch are helping the police and how crime is being reduced. You have to watch ISN to hear anything else. I think they're being quite brave. They still broadcast the stuff about attacks on aliens and they even say how strange it is that crimes like that don't get solved. They made a big deal just last week about how the cops still haven't caught anyone for torching the Drazi homes in Manchester three months ago - Her lower lip trembled. She bit it and continued. But even ISN don't dare put things like that at the top of the news. It's always last thing, just before they sign off. You can't imagine what it's been like. My Mum and Dad could tell you -
Her face creased up again and she wiped her eyes for the second time. I do know, I said. I live here, remember? My next-door neighbour's a Pak'Ma'Ra. Trond. He's a good mate. Or she's a good mate. I still can't tell. You don't ask; you realise it's been far too long; you can't ask because it would show you up. Lost her job; or his job. No money. Can't get home. Upstairs there's a Narn family; they're refugees. This block is all welfare families and singles. Including me. You wouldn't have been able to get in here otherwise. In the decent neigbourhoods, the police keep an eye, and give a damn. It's only got worse since Clarke took over. You don't hear that on the news, either - and there's something you may have missed. ISN went off the air yesterday. Shortly after telling us Earthforce were bombing Mars.
There was a firefight at the ISN building. It went out live. The last thing they did...Local stations are blaming subversives'. They' must think we're really stupid. Actually I guess most people are. You going to go on?
Hours passed. The voice whispered on. Asho thought she was at home. I thought about my wife, about Elizabeth; about how helplessly I worshipped her when I was twenty-one; about how beautiful she was, how graceful and intelligent, how much too good for me. I thought about the way it came apart. The children I wanted and she did not want; the money, and where it all went; the way I was really married to Earthforce the whole time. About how I pretended not to understand how she felt, because I knew I had no excuse. I thought about the terrible things we both said, like two children. I thought about the way I left in the end, because I was afraid of what I might do.
I thought about Aswinder then. I didn't know her well. She was our NCO and I was just one of her squad. She was small and strong. Her skin was a few shades lighter than mine; she had black hair that had never been cut, hair that she could sit on. Most of the time she covered it with a regulation-issue turban, but I had seen it loose once, in the dugout, the day before the assault. That night, all of us talked about our families, as if we knew. She said that her people had always been warriors. They wore their hair long so it would be obvious if they ran away from battle. It was a guarantee of courage, she said. She smiled; yet we knew that although she wasn't religious, she took it all very seriously. Her hair smelled of jasmine. I couldn't stop looking at her, but I don't think she ever noticed me.
She was so beautiful. Most likely, she was dead already. I knew the assault had killed at least half my comrades. I thought about the way the world would carry on, if I ceased to exist.
I took up my rifle, but before I could place the barrel in my mouth I saw that it was choked with mud. And I could not work out how to fire Asho's sidearm.
Yeah, sure...Jesus, I didn't know...Last week - after my Dad got hurt - some of the big boys at my school caught me at break and they were all in a circle round me and calling me bonehead and hitting me. The teachers stopped them, but I thought they could have been quicker...I went home with Caro that night. Her Mum and Dad never liked me all that much but they let me in the house and we spent the evening on the Web, sending silly vid-mails to the Farmboys newsgroup and trying to get in touch with La'Math again. We try every week. Couldn't get through. We spent a bit of time chatting to Roshan. She's good fun, even though her Mum's a Wind Sword. Then some Nightwatch rep broke in. He said that they had proof there was a conspiracy up to the top level, trying to destabilise EarthGov and prepare for some alien invasion. He didn't give any names but he talked about Mars and Orion and Babylon 5 and it was as though someone had decided somewhere that these were all subversive organisations, not our own colonies. Just after that Caro's Mum came up and said she thought I ought to go home. She had her arms folded across her chest and she looked terrified. It was only 19:00. I used to stay till 23:00 sometimes. I went; don't worry. When I got back my Mum was on her knees in the front room, praying.
She's got a Valen-shrine there. Because she's Religious Caste, she's entitled to pray directly. Really, she's a priestess, though she's never used the title here. I didn't think she believed, really and truly. She lit candles sometimes, on the major festivals, but usually the shrine was just there, something we nodded to when we came in the door. That night, I heard her chanting before I went in, and she was down on her knees and she had two or three dozen candles going. And incense. I think Minbari incense stinks. It's like roses and patchouli and ganja all mixed up together and it makes me dizzy. She was kneeling there in a cloud of it. I said to her that I was going upstairs and had she been online that evening? She said that yes, she had. Then she turned round. Her face was wet. She'd been crying. I never saw my Mum cry before. She said that she hoped Valen was watching over us, because nobody else would. Then she seemed to remember she was talking to me and not to Nasreen. She told me to go and get changed because we were all going to the Minbar Temple later that night for a special ceremony. I went and got dressed in my Minbari clothes and when I came downstairs Mum actually sat me down and put a towel round me and tried to make my crest look decent. It hadn't really recovered at all. Even before I had another go at it, it looked bad. But she did her best. She hadn't done that for me since I went to big school.
Then she stopped and she took the towel away and just shook the bits onto the floor. She looked at me and she said, You'll be grown up soon, Theyel. I think you should have this now.' And she took something out of her pocket and hung it around my neck. It was the amulet of the Three that had been blessed for me when I was named and which I was supposed to have at my coming of age ceremony. She wouldn't let me ask why; she just made me wear it. It's round my neck now. I still don't know why she did that.
After some time I changed. I found myself straining to follow her words. It was a fitting - discipline. After a day and a night it became my reason to exist; my doom.
I love you, Varenn.
I'm sorry, Elizabeth. And, Aswinder, I just want to see you again. And, Asho, oh, Asho. I'm so sorry, Asho.
Theyel sat up, leaned forward, sat back. Then she got to her feet and paced up and down for a minute or two, chewing her nails again. Maron looked miserable. Every time the girl glanced in his direction he gestured to her pleadingly to sit down again. Eventually she did so, taking the sofa cushion next to him and reaching out to hold his hand. She clung to it desperately, as if it was the only real thing in the world.
The ceremony went on for two hours, she continued. I felt sick because of the incense but I managed not to throw up. There were fifty or sixty people there, all adults except me. Some of them stared. I guess they saw what I'd done to my crest, or perhaps they just thought I shouldn't have been there. The ceremony was all in Adronato and I didn't understand very much of it. There were lots of prayers to Valen and long silences for meditation and it finished with the Unity Ceremony from the rebirth ritual, where all the priests and priestesses take the fruit and eat it. It's symbolic of the unity of Minbari souls and how we can't be divided even when we die. I thought it was pretty gruesome really. After all, Valen was a war leader before he unified the people and I guess he knew plenty about death. I wished we hadn't gone. It was after midnight when we got back. For some reason my Dad switched on the vid and there was our dear President Clarke himself, talking about the need for vigilance and announcing Martial Law and how the loyal citizens of the Watch would be taking over all policing.
Next day I told my Mum I didn't want to go to school. Really I was scared stiff. I thought the big boys would get me again. I suppose I had a tantrum. I remember Mum telling me I was behaving like a baby. I wished my Dad didn't have to go to work so early, because he would have understood...She made me go. As I went out she told me that she wanted me to tell her everything about lessons that day. I suppose she thought I might bunk off. I thought I could make something up and I just grunted Okay'. I got to the end of the street and Caro was there waiting and we decided to bunk off together. We went down town and looked in shops until some Watch creepo came up to us and asked us what we were doing out of school. Then he stared at me - he was so dumb, he'd only just noticed - and he started shouting and asking to see my ID. We legged it and didn't stop running until we came to the big park in Trentham - that's nearly two miles from my house. I don't know what happened to the creepo. I think someone stopped him. It could have been a Drazi, there were some there, and I think there might have been a fight. We spent the rest of the day wandering round the park. Caro was as scared as me. She wanted to get away from Earth, she said, to go to Orion or B5 and get a job. She said she hated President Clarke and she hated her parents too because they thought he was doing a good job because he was reducing crime. They've never had a crime committed against them in their lives. They just say it because it's on the vids, like most grown-ups.
We got some food at the sushi bar and afterwards there was a bunch of lads and girls playing football. We stopped to watch and ended up joining in because they were a couple of players short. I'm not much good at it but like I said, I like football and it was good even though I got covered in mud and Caro gave away a penalty. I remember feeling happy afterwards because they didn't care who I was. There are still plenty of people like that around, I know that really...At half past four we realised we were going to be late home, so we walked back quickly. I was a bit scared that Mum would still be cross and she'd want to know why I was so late and how my clothes got so dirty. On the way back me and Caro made up a story about cutting across the rec. and joining in a kick-around. When we were half a mile away we realised there was something going on, there was a fire somewhere. There was smoke and a terrible smell. We heard sirens. Caro said she thought the shop on the corner of her street might be on fire, they'd been warned about unsafe storage of gas a while before. We didn't realise, until we turned the corner and saw the crowd and the fire engines and heard all the noise. It was my house.
Asho lifted her right hand. She touched my face, ran a finger along my jawbone. She did not reach far enough to touch my hair. She whispered that name once more. What would you have done? I grasped her hand in my own and bent to kiss her fingers. I held her hand gently to my chest. She seemed content. She was quiet for a long, long time. I placed my jacket underneath her head. When night came I covered her with my blanket, because her hands were cold. All the time she looked at me, but never saw me. The IV fluid was gone. I had nothing else for her. I prayed the Minbari would search the battlefield for their wounded. I fantasised that they might be in time for Asho. She was so strong; she wanted her life so much. They would kill me on sight, most likely; but by then I longed for it.
I remember running. Caro was with me. She was screaming, I think I was as well. The crowd was all on the far side of the street because it was so hot and there were police and medics and firefighters all over the place. I saw Nasreen at the upstairs window trying to break the glass because Mum and Dad used to keep the windows locked because of the Homeguard but it was double glazed and she couldn't and the firefighters were going up the ladder with hammers but then she disappeared. Everything was happening very slowly and I tried to run across the road and while I was doing this I realised that Nasreen was wearing her hejab and that meant my Dad was in the house...Someone grabbed me from behind and screamed in my ear that I had to stay back, I'd get myself killed and I said it was my Mum and Dad and she said she could tell that couldn't she and not to be stupid. I elbowed her in the stomach and ran across anyway but a big policeman with a Watch armband was there and he just looked at me and I tried to run back to Caro, but her mother was there. Caro looked round and yelled, Thel!' but her mother was pulling her arm and shouting in her ear and dragging her away and I couldn't get near her.
Just as dawn broke, Asho became conscious one more time. Her face was whiter than the bone upon her head; her skin was damp and very cold. She tried to sit. I knew what was coming; there was no point in protest. I helped her up, let her lean against me. She looked into my face then; and this time she saw me, and not her husband. I am certain of it. And she smiled.
The path, she said. Her voice was stronger than it had been since she fell. I see it. The Three are calling. The lamps are lit. The path is clear. She looked into my eyes. Her eyes were violet. I know you, she said. I know who you are. I'm ready. Lead me on my way.
In the rearguard action later, or when Aswinder did what she did, or in the flight to the Gate when three Minbari warships all missed us by inches...I have never in my whole life since that moment been so terrified. I just held her tight.
I just stood there and I couldn't even cry, I couldn't do anything. I saw the firemen break the door down and go in with their hoses and the whole inside of the house was on fire and I couldn't even see the staircase through it. The crowd sort of stood back from me. They left me alone. I saw Mohammad Iqbal run up the street and he collided with the big policeman and yelled at him. The policeman led him aside and sat him down in a safe place and stayed and talked to him and patted his shoulder while he cried and cried. The firemen carried three bodies out, one after the other. I heard them say that two were in the cellar and the other had fallen through the bedroom floor. I guess Mum and Dad were downstairs and Nasreen had gone up to the toilet or something. The medics just looked and covered them with sheets and I did start crying then. One of the medics took a step toward me but she looked from me to the policeman with his armband and she looked really scared and she didn't do anything.
She lifted her hand again and quite deliberately brushed her fingers over my hair. It's true, she muttered. The whispers. The secrets. All true. We are fighting ourselves. We are fighting ourselves.
She tried to stand up then, but the blood-loss was too great, the shock too deep. Holding her, I felt her heart beat faster, faster; then it slowed and fluttered once and stopped. I held her, and wept in a way I have never wept before or since: not when my wife divorced me; not when my mother died; not in the hospital later on. I don't know how long I wept. Then the Minbari came.
Mohammad went up to where the bodies were and just knelt on the grass and howled while the policeman stood beside him looking embarrassed. I started to go forward again. The people just moved aside, letting me past, but then I saw them. They were at the side, watching from a few houses down. There were some of the big boys from school and some of the hard lads from the mall with the Homeguard tattoos and they were watching me. As soon as I saw them I knew. They whispered to each other and pointed. I was so scared. There were other police too, men and women, keeping the crowd back. I wanted to tell them about the boys but they looked at me like the first one and they all had armbands and the boys started to come forward and I don't really think they could have done anything because of all the people but I was so scared and I didn't know what to do and I just ran away.
Then I went round the corner and Mar was there. I ran straight into him. Never even saw you, did I, Mar?
You didn't know who I was for a minute.
Theyel turned to me again. He hadn't got any hair. He was crying as well and we just clung on to each other. It was strange. We hadn't been friends before that. We were just in the same class. But he didn't look at me like the others did. He held on to me until I could stand up on my own again. My knees went as soon as I had someone to lean on...He told me what had happened to him. People had gone into his house and beaten him up, him and his brothers and his Dad. Shaved their heads. Like women, you said...
Theyel choked and couldn't finish the sentence. Suddenly she crumpled up like a paper doll, unable to speak and unable to sit. She cried for a long time with her head on her companion's knee, while he looked bewildered and stroked her crest and told me the end of the story.
They did it on purpose because it's really shameful on Centauri Prime for a man to go bald. Didn't mean anything to me. My father was always making me cut my hair short anyway. Anything longer was too good for me, he said. Dad and my brothers fought them but there were about twenty of them broke in, those big boys Thel was talking about. Afterwards, my Dad kicked me out when I started crying. Told me to come back when I had grown up. I think he was so scared he didn't know what he was doing, but I was scared too and I thought those boys would come back, so I hid in some bushes. Then I realised there was a fire and I knew that something really awful had happened and I didn't think I could do anything but I couldn't just sit there, so I went to see. Then Thel bumped into me. We didn't know what to do. In the end we just went away. The boys were still around, see. It's been a week now. We ran out of money after two days and we've slept under hedges and stolen a bit of food. That's what we were doing tonight. We've got away from Stoke but I don't know what we're going to do next.
For a while we just sat and looked at one another. I had had less than five hours' sleep and suddenly I felt it. My head pounded; I felt sick; the beer in the can I held tasted foul. I set it aside and rubbed my eyes, trying without much success to think.
Theyel spoke then, for the first time in ten minutes, her voice hoarse from weeping. I was so cross she made me go to school, she said. I never said goodbye.
I don't know how they interpreted the sight: an Earthforce grunt embracing the corpse of one of their own and crying like a child. They must have seen the dressing, the IV; they must have had some idea of what I had tried to do. I thought they had killed me when the stunner took effect and I lost consciousness. I was so grateful. But when I woke up I was in an Earthforce field hospital. The diagnosis was shock and dehydration; the remedy fluids, a week's rest, then back to the line. They told me that I had been reported missing, but that I had turned up unexpectedly, wandering like a drunk in the middle of No Man's Land, raving about how sorry I was that I had not told some woman my name.
I sat and asked questions then, although every cell in my body begged me to go back to bed, to let this wait until morning. Part of me wanted to shake them both, to ask what they hell they thought they were doing laying all this on me; but, as I said, I remembered. And they were children; and I had invited them to stay. I looked for something from them, anything, that would mean I could hand all this to someone responsible, that it would not be up to me; while Theyel and Maron gazed at me as if I were the saviour of the world.
They could offer little enough. Maron did not want to go home and absolutely refused to do so if it meant leaving Theyel. And she really did have nowhere to go. She thought her neighbour Mohammad Iqbal might have done something, but his house had been damaged and he had lost his wife. Despite this, his religion might have obliged him; so she did not even want to ask, in case he felt compelled to offer help. Alongside this, she was still terrified of the young thugs of her town. She was right. The police never did seem to solve this kind of crime; and now the Watch had taken over that situation was not likely to improve.
They know I know, you see, she said. I saw the looks on their faces. If I went back they'd be round. If I was at Mohammad's his place would be next.
I tried the ISN archive then. The network was off the air but the server holding old stuff was still accessible. I thought there might be some information on there, an appeal or a request for Theyel to contact the authorities; if they had covered the incident at all. There was some coverage of the story, starting the morning after the fire. In the very first sentence of the report the announcer used the word accident'.
It wasn't, it wasn't! Theyel murmured; but she continued to watch. I wanted to send her out of the room, somehow to prevent her from seeing what must come; but she had seen far worse already. No patronising from me would take away those memories.
There were shots of constables in Nightwatch armbands poking through the wreckage and interviewing passers-by; all were edited so that one could not hear what was being said. There was only the announcer's voice-over; apart from the piece where the reporter forced Mohammad Iqbal to talk about his wife and display his grief to the whole of Earth space. ISN had even filmed his four sons and four daughters, aged between eight and seventeen, as they huddled together crying for their mother.
Mr. Iqbal started to say more, to talk about the couple who had been his neighbours and friends for so many years; but the ISN news editor cut him off. A senior police officer talked briefly about possible causes.
Minbari use a lot of candles in their religious rites, he said. Theyel let out a faint gasp.
Right at the end, it was mentioned briefly that the dead couple had a daughter and that she was missing. There was no appeal and no reassurance; no suggestion that help might be available if she would only get in touch. The reporter merely said that the police were looking for her. That they wanted to interview her.
They think I did it! screeched Theyel. They think I did it! Burning candles to Valen and their careless twelve-year-old knocked one over! When hundreds of people saw me run up the road! The bastards! They aren't going to do anything!
Hey, Thel, you don't know that... Maron gently interrupted.
Yes I do! And so would you if you weren't so stupid! With that she burst into tears again.
Maron just put his arm round her shoulders and let her lean on him. Over her head, he caught my eye. He shook his head. I could not tell what this signified; whether he was so accustomed to being called stupid that it had become a form of endearment to him; or whether he was prepared to forgive his distraught companion anything. Perhaps it was both.
Then he spoke. You see, she can't go back. And if she can't, I won't, he said.
How old are you, Mar?
I'm nearly fourteen. Thel is twelve; she'll be thirteen next month. I got kept back a year in school.
So if you did go to the police...
If we went to the police, I'd be sent back home whether I wanted to go or not. They don't give you the choice when you're a kid. I was born here too. I could divorce my parents. Earth law allows it and you get legal aid. But it would take ages. We don't have ages, Mr. Tom. And I'd have to be fostered. I couldn't just go off on my own.
Sounds as though you've thought about it.
Together. Every night. For the past week.
And because she's an Earther and she doesn't have any family...Well, you know where Thel would end up.
A children's home?
If she was lucky, Mr. Tom. If the Watch decided she set fire to her house they'd send her to one of their new reform schools. Can you imagine what would happen to her in reform school? A Minbari? He squeezed his friend's shoulders briefly. Sorry, Thel.
The girl muttered something under her breath which might have been .
But they can't just decide to do that, can they?
I thought you said you knew what was happening, Mr. Tom. They are the law now. Hadn't you noticed?
I felt very stupid. With the sickness and the lack of sleep my brain was shutting down. I would have to make a decision soon.
Of course I remembered nothing. If I had, I would have been in the bin right then, not back in combat. I knew I had lost a day or two, but when I wondered what had happened, they just said that I'd been in shock. I hadn't made any sense. My body healed, and then I went back to my unit. Half of them were new. The assault had killed scores of my comrades, and taught the brass a lesson they did not forget. Minbari don't get softened up'. Not ever. They might lose a few grunts, but for each one who is killed, for each ship or vehicle destroyed, two move up into the empty place. The only good thing about it was that Aswinder had survived.
The colony was lost before we started. Ten thousand men, women and children in two cities; that's all it was. There was no way that EarthGov was going to let the Marine Corps waste its strength on something like that. For a week we sat in a dugout and waited. Somewhere, the brass made its mind up. Then the order came: abandon the colony. Marines, hold the line until the civilians are evacuated; then get out. It was like ordering each of us to commit suicide where we stood, but we did it. One transport got away; then three; then five. Every hour we endured Minbari suicide attacks, Minbari artillery bombardments, Minbari assault. We did what we could. They never breached the perimeter.
And there's the other thing.
I though you'd seen. You've had some of her looks' hasn't he, Thel?
You weren't wrong, Mr. Tom. She was reading you. It was the only way we knew we could trust you. There'd be...other people after her as well. Not just the Watch. It mightn't be reform school at all. It could be one of their...places. You know.
I remembered when I was at school and the Corps had come round to do their pep-talks and their little tests. They start with five-year-olds because some are born hearing; then they come back in the first and second years of high school to catch the ones who don't get their talent until puberty. Theyel was just the right age. She's been lucky, then.
They were going to do our class in November. Yeah. I suppose that part was lucky, Mr. Tom.
I didn't mean... I shook my head, despising myself. The Centauri boy just looked blandly at me.
No. Of course you didn't...Can you imagine how they'd...I didn't work this out for myself. She worked it out months ago. If they came and they found there was someone - a Minbari', with Earth citizenship, who was a teep. They'd think Christmas had come early, Mr. Tom. A ready-made spy. Right there for the taking. No choice, either, because it's the law. It wouldn't matter if she was only a P1. She'd be gone.
There's no way you'd join the Corps - voluntarily? I have no love for Psi Corps, but this would have been one solution. I clamped down on the thought, but it was too late.
That'd be an easy way out, I guess. She must have caught the rest as well; my half-formed wish that the ground would swallow me up. We're all very tired, Mr. Gerrold. I think you should sleep. I think we all should. No, I'd rather go to reform school. Or join the Sisters of Valeria.
The what?
Never mind.
After a day and a half, as our ammunition ran out, our second order came: fall back to the starport; board the transport; get off this useless world. We knew they were out there. As soon as we left our pillboxes, our trenches, our dugouts, they'd be there; with their weapons that could turn a man to cinders, and the fire of righteous combat in their eyes. They were an enemy who knew their gods fought with them. We turned; we ran; and the cries of Valen!' and For the One!' rang out in every Minbari dialect I had ever heard as the black wave rolled toward us. We fled; and even as I moved I saw Aswinder going the other way.
I tried to stop her. She shook me off. Get out! she cried. I had a flash; a weird nonsensical almost-memory: for a moment I saw her head crowned with white bone.
Get out, get the hell out; do it now, Pfc Gerrold; and don't you dare get killed, that's an order!
Sarge...Sarge! Ashi, don't! Come back...! I reached out and barely missed her shoulder. Her turban had fallen off. Her hair swung toward my face, and for an instant, there was a whisper of jasmine on the detonating air.
The men and women of my unit surrounded me in a retreat that had become a rout, bearing me away. I don't know what I screamed, but Aswinder was already committed, a dead woman walking. I never knew what berserk' meant until that moment. I tried to stop her, but she shook me off and she advanced upon the enemy with her empty rifle, the fixed bayonet her only weapon. She charged at them howling like all nine Furies, hair a black flag on the wind; and I swear they fell back for moments, for a precious second or two, before the fearful courage of it. We got out. We got to the spaceport and boarded the shuttle and it wrenched us into orbit and into the docking bay of the Stephen Hawking and she wasn't with us, she wasn't there. Somehow we evaded the Minbari encirclement, got to the gate; and she wasn't there. Yet, when I closed my eyes that night, I saw Sergeant Aswinder Kaur Siddhu one more time. I dreamed her with a Minbari coronet set amid her long black hair; and she whispered, The path is clear.
I woke up. Something clicked into focus in my head. For a few seconds, I think I knew. Then I began to howl.
It was 06:30 next time I noticed. The dream was always like that. Sometimes it went on to the hospital and the drugs and not knowing who I was; sometimes it didn't. I suppose I was lucky in a way. I didn't get to sit with my unit in the defences around Geneva. Sometimes I try to imagine what it must have been like, waiting for them to come.
They intended to wipe us out. They were insane; they would kill us all in revenge for a single lost life. That is what the forces of Earth were told. They dug in. They created the most elaborate line of defence in history around Earthdome; with the best and newest and most fearsome weapons. They cleaned their guns and they sat there, waiting to die. News came of battle in space; our pilots were dead and our ships destroyed and the Minbari were breaking through. Still they waited. And then, suddenly, it all stopped. Earthforce was stood down. The enemy, the mad and pitiless enemy, had surrendered. They sued for peace, as if their leaders were dead in a bunker, and their cities overrun.
In the hospital, all I had to go on was the news. I thought we had won.
Earthforce kept me on the payroll until they were sure I would be of no more use to them. Then, quietly, just before I could be pronounced sane and sent back, they discharged me on medical grounds. I was no longer fit for military service, and so they lost interest. They gave me a pension - a Pfc's pension - and found me an apartment and left me to get on with it. Some of my old friends from the Marine Corps found out where I was eventually, and it was they who told me what had really happened. Not that any of them knew very much. Some brass somewhere may know; but as far as any of my comrades were concerned, the Minbari simply proved how mad they really were. They apologised; or at least we were told they had. Or one group of them forced another to apologise. They admitted a misunderstanding. They even paid reparations; just a small amount. And suddenly, apart from the Centauri, they were our very best friends.
I decided I needed a drink. The whisky was in the sitting room, in the drinks cabinet. Then I remembered. I couldn't go in the sitting room, because Theyel and Maron were asleep on my sofa, under my spare quilt. I cursed obscenely under my breath. Then I thought about why I was cursing; and I despised myself so completely that I needed a drink more than ever.
Instead, I made myself creep to the sitting room door. They slept head to foot; two children innocently sharing a bed. In her sleep, Theyel stirred. Her face and her crest of bone caught the faint light. Still asleep, she opened her eyes. I couldn't see their colour, but I knew it; and I knew what I wanted then. There was only one way out of this for me. I went back to bed and tried to think. After a while I got a notebook from the cupboard and started to write down some names.
*****************************************************
That was many weeks ago. They are beyond your power, which is the only reason I am telling you all this. I thought that telling you why I did it, showing you one small part of what you have done, might make a difference. It was quite useless. I can tell. You still have that terrible righteousness in your eyes.
It took over a month to find the right person, someone who actually knew something; and longer than that for connections to go through. I won't tell you, ever; not that I allowed them to tell me any details. Not that they would have done if I had asked. And of course, I never used the vid, and I destroyed all those notes. I was a soldier, remember, before you went to school. A bad soldier, maybe; a peacetime soldier, unfit for combat; but even that's more than you'll ever be. And there's no point in bringing in a telepath. I know no ratlines; no underground railroads; no real names. I made sure I didn't know. They're gone. I don't know where; I wouldn't let her tell me. All I do know is that the people who took them can be trusted. I knew what to look out for, by the time they arrived. And I doubt the simple knowledge of that would tell you anything. They are professional and effective beyond your dreams. They aren't going to wear it openly; and I made sure I didn't see it that well.
I know how you caught me. I warned Theyel that she mustn't call me, especially not over the Web; but she's just a child and I'm not sure she realised what you could do. It was good to see them safe and well, to hear that they really are beyond your reach; but I knew that would be all you'd need. It doesn't matter, though. If she needed to do it, that's fine, as long as she doesn't get caught. Because for myself, I don't care any more. And even you can't pretend that helping two children counts as treason.
You'll make it count as something though; I know that. Will you mindwipe me, I wonder, or just toss me in jail? It doesn't matter. Because once, Asho's ghost and Aswinder's walked with me wherever I walked. They were my faithful companions, my keepers; the booze was all that quieted them. But now, I have done what I could; and this time, this time it worked. I saved her. I saved Theyel; and Maron too. The ghosts are satisfied. They are quiet. Perhaps now they'll let me sleep.