Chapter 13
Telemachus did exactly as he promised. He remained with Tristan while Beka and Rev walked out of the room for a tour of the monastery and to catch up on old times. Despite the fact that the Magog had apparently saved Tristan, Telemachus was still less than completely inclined to trust him. He no longer thought Rev had any agenda, but he was less than completely sure of the Magog's ability to keep his basic instincts in check. Though to be fair, Rhade had to admit that being a Nietzschean did predispose him to prejudice towards the Magog. After all, hadn't the Nietzschean betrayal of the original Commonwealth been provoked by atrocities committed by the Magog at Brandenburg Tor? His gaze darkened. Telemachus never approved of the rebellion, but having fought the Magog on more than one occasion, he could easily understand how threatened they must have felt.
He looked back at his son. The boy was back on the bed, running his fingers over the cover of the book but no longer attempting to read. How much of the text he actually a absorbed, Telemachus didn't know, but wasn't about to underestimate Tristan's search for knowledge. Despite his young age, Tristan was ambitious and knew enough not to waste the all the opportunities that came with his new life. Then there were times where he was just a kid, when he laughed at Harper's jokes, hung around Command and curiously poked at the various buttons, or spent his days on Terazed playing from sunrise to sunset.
He won't be playing by himself for long, Telemachus thought. It was probably the baser Nietzschean instincts within him, but Rhade couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. The new child wasn't planed, true, but then neither was Tristan. Sometimes it was simply best to let life run its course, and let the stones fall where they may. Still, he had to admit that the upcoming inevitable talk with Beka of their new child was one he was apprehensive about. Telemachus sighed, shaking his head. Talia's visit couldn't have come at a worse time.
"Is that lady really my other grandmother?" Telemachus turned his head towards his son. Tristan stared back at him with worried eyes, and Rhade walked over to the bed, sitting down next to the boy. Both he and Beka had tried to keep Talia's identity a secret, but of course with as large a crew as they had, Telemachus should have know that was nearly impossible.
"No," he replied firmly. "She's not your grandmother, because she's not your mom's mother." Tristan looked confused. "Talia," his father explained, "happened to contribute to your mom's DNA, but I think you of all people know that it doesn't necessarily make her a mother."
He hoped Tristan would be able to understand such an advanced explanation. Though it was never addressed, Telemachus knew that Tristan understood that he and Beka were not his biological parents. All he needed to know was that when he woke up with nightmares of his birth mother who sold him into slavery it was Beka and Telemachus he turned to. He understood and nodded.
"Is Mom okay?"
"Of course," the older Nietzschean frowned. "Why would you think something was wrong?"
"She..." Tristan wrinkled his nose, trying to put his thoughts into words. "She smells different. Not bad different... just different."
"Oh?" Telemachus smiled. He wasn't about to tell the boy what it was he had noticed, of course, but he was nonetheless pleased that Tristan's already keen senses were improving.
"Maybe I'm making it up," Tristan shrugged. "But she seems... warmer."
"Maybe you're right," Telemachus agreed. "If I find out, you'll be the first to know."
Beka walked through the halls of the monastery with Rev at her side, recounting the events of the previous two years. She told him of Tyr's betrayal, of all the Prides pulling away from the New Commonwealth before falling into civil war. She spoke of how Telemachus joined the crew and her initial distrust of him. When she reached the part about Tristan's arrival, Rev smiled.
"Ah I always knew those dormant maternal instincts would win out eventually," he commented.
"Yeah, well let's see what happens with the one that's unfortunate enough to actually be related to me," she muttered under her breath, forgetting about his excellent Magog hearing.
"Beka?" Rev questioned curiously.
She stopped with a sigh, wrapping her arms around her self. Absently, she smoothed her shirt over her stomach, diverting Rev's attention here. If it was possible his smile widened even more.
"Then I offer my congratulations," he hugged her warmly, but Beka shook her head.
"I'm not sure you should," she said. Rev's brows drew together, and he guided her to a nearby bench, sensing that a long talk was in store. Beka looked down at her hands then back at him. "Don't get me wrong; I love Tristan. Wouldn't trade him for the world. And I..." she hesitated at the next statement, choosing her words carefully. "I care for Telemachus. It hasn't been easy, Rev. You know me and my commitment issues. I don't think I've ever admitted to him how much I care. But this..." she placed an open palm against her abdomen. "It's just too much, too soon. I mean look what happened today with Tristan. I can't even keep track of one child, what am I going to do with a newborn?"
Rev nodded thoughtfully. He expected Beka to have reservations, but after seeing her with the boy for only a few minutes, he had no doubt in his mind about her capabilities. The Magog took her hands in his own clawed ones and squeezed in comfort. "Tell me," he inquired. "Why do you love your son?"
The question took Beka by surprise. She hadn't thought about it, at least hadn't attempted to reason things out for herself aloud. With Tristan, things were simple; she would love him, protect him, and cherish him no matter the cost. The apprehension and disdain that Beka felt for Talia had been with her throughout most of her life, but when her son's life came on the line, she didn't care about the senator's opinion one way or the other. From the moment he asked to call her 'mother,' Tristan became her first priority. The devotion and utter conviction that she could do anything that Beka saw in his eyes every day was more than she ever received from any other living soul.
"Because he's...," she didn't know quite how to put her thoughts into words. "He's my world. I know how corny that sounds, but it's true."
"And Telemachus?" Rev prompted. "Do you love him?"
"I already said..." Beka looked confused.
"You said you cared for him," Rev corrected her. "You did not say you loved him."
That really made Beka think. She'd avoided asking herself the same question hundreds of times in the past year. Telemachus was different. He knew her limitations, knew her history, knew what set her off or put words in her mouth that neither wanted their son to hear. He didn't love her because she was invincible; he loved her because she was real. She could confide in him without fear of shame or ridicule. She could lean on him, knowing that no matter how bad things got, Telemachus would not abandon her. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"Yes, she finally admitted. "I love him."
Rev smiled wistfully, as if he already knew the answer. "Then what do you have to fear? Will not this new life within you bring you as much joy as your son has? Will it not strengthen the love you share with Rhade?"
"She," Beka whispered, rubbing her stomach gently.
"Pardon?"
"Not 'it'. 'She'. Trance thinks the baby's a girl," the First Officer of the Andromeda smiled at her old friend. "I never had a reason to doubt her before."