Starlight, Starbright

"Hey, Jonah? Your grandmother's arrived."

"Tell her I'm not here."

"Yeah, about that…"

Jonah, looking away from the readout, gave Kylie a glance that was so withering, the ferns in the top of the observatory might as well have died.

"You didn't…"

"I told her you were here!"

The radio astronomer leant back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

"I'm sorry!" His assistant blurted out. "It's just, we talked over the fone, and I said you weren't here, but she didn't believe me, and now she's at the door, and I tried to lie, but you know how she is, and, well, I don't really get mums, let alone grandmums, and-"

"Course you don't," Jonah snapped, as he looked his assistant in the eye. "You're just an Ivy."

He regretted the words immediately. Even if not for the hurt that flickered in Kylie's eyes, he'd have regretted it.

"Kylie…"

"It's fine," she said, her voice and eyes making it clear that it wasn't. "I'll just, er, check on the latest Jaandara surveys, right?"

"Kylie, I didn't mean…"

"No, really. I messed up and-"

"How did you mess up?"

As his 82 year old grandmother walked up the stairs of the Tygore Observatory, Jonah found himself tempted to throw himself off them. Short drop, sudden stop, and all his problems would be over.

"Miss Pardo," Kylie said, smiling as she brushed her eye. "It's nice to meet you."

"Hogwash. We met at the front door, before you went running to my grandson."

Kylie gave Jonah a look that was half-apologetic, half-terror.

"Anyway, what did you mess up?" Evelyn Pardo asked.

"I…"

"Come on, spit it out. I'm not deaf yet."

"I…" Kylie seemed to be on the verge of tears. "I…"

"I messed up," Jonah said.

"You did?" Kylie and Evelyn asked together.

"Yeah, I did. I mean, entered a wrong number three, an erroneous algorithm here, and, well, y'know how it is…"

Evelyn raised an eyebrow. "I see…"

Jonah doubted that.

"But anyway," Evelyn said, smiling, "happy thirtieth."

She smothered her grandson with a hug, and lots of kisses. Looking through the storm like a drowning man might above the waterline, Jonah caught Kylie's eye. While he hoped she'd stay around, her scurrying off was probably the best course of action she could take.

When this was over, he'd find her, tell her she was sorry, and maybe…certain other things, but-

"What? No kisses back?"

But now, he had a madwoman to deal with. So, as his grandmother broke the embrace, he smiled, and kissed her on each cheek.

"That's better," she said.

Not really.

"Now then," Evelyn said. "This is for you." She put a small wooden box on the console by Jonah. "But before you open your presents, you're going to tell me if it was really you who messed up, or that Ivy girl."

There was a lot wrong in that sentence, but was the last part that caused Jonah to stand up and say, "don't call her that."

"Call her what? An Ivy?"

Jonah remained silent.

"It's what she is, you silly boy. You're a Natural, she's an Ivy, and I'm an Earthborn."

"Right. And that makes you better than everyone else."

His grandmother frowned. Had he hurt her feelings? If so, good. Hoping his grandmother would take the hint, he turned around and returned his attention to the console in front of him.

"She is an Ivy," Evelyn murmured. "No matter how you feel, that doesn't change anything."

"There's no difference between us," Jonah murmured.

"I know, I know. But still…well, if you're grown in a tube, you don't come out normal."

"You were frosted in a tube for three decades, you don't get to talk."

"After already being born, thank you very much."

Silence lingered between them. Silence that gave Jonah time to reflect on his grandmother's words.

Ivies. Slang for those born from IVF. Countless embryos stored on the four supercarriers that had left Earth over half a century ago, as a means of kickstarting a population. The UPL had known that even criminals would hump the bunk once they settled on Dylar VI, but the thousands of people they'd sent into the void were of all ages, and not all of them could reproduce. Embryos would serve as a contingency plan.

And it had worked. The population of Tarsonis had exploded, fuelling economic growth. People like Kylie (Embryo No. 1109-17-2022), implanted into the womb of one Rachel Varro, were among the last of the embryos to be born. To emerge into a world that was steadily forgetting the old hatreds of Earth, and was instead forming new hatreds of its own.

Ivies. Naturals. And, Jonah reflected, as he looked back at his grandmother, Earthborn. The generation who had arrived in the supercarriers, and would soon depart this universe. The last living memory the peoples of Tarsonis, Moria, and Umoja had of mankind's homeworld.

"You're right," Evelyn said. "I'm sorry."

Jonah looked at his grandmother, and nodded. Evelyn Pardo had brought her baggage with her from Earth. But, rounded up by a genocidal regime, torn from her parents' arms (literally) before watching them get shot, and shoved into a cryo-chamber on a supercarrier bound for a different star system?

He had to admit that not all of the baggage was her own. His father had told her how, more than once, he'd heard her screaming in the night. How he'd come into his parents' room and comfort them, rather than it being the other way round. Evelyn had been proud enough to keep her maiden name, but her pride went further than that.

"So," Evelyn said, taking a seat beside her grandson. "How's things? You living the dream?"

He shrugged. "It pays the bills."

"Don't be so modest. You're head of a radio observatory at only thirty years old. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if you become the next Samur Nareed."

"The guy who re-developed warp engines? That's a big jump."

"One small jump for man, one giant jump for mankind," Evelyn said, smiling.

Good lord, you have a crush on him. But then, Jonah reflected, that wasn't too unexpected. Dr. Nareed was a genius. If Doran Routhe was the dumbass who'd sent his grandmother's generation on a trip to the edges of the galaxy, tens of thousands of light years past their intended destination. Nareed was the man who'd given them back the stars. He was the one Ivy that no-one would dare consider inferior to a Natural (even if no-one could find his embryo number). And with his face, his voice, his welcoming grin, Jonah couldn't blame him.

He'd appeared on the cover of Tarsonis Times for a reason.

"But fine, you're into astronomy rather than warp tech," Evelyn said. She ran her hands over the console. "Takes me back, y'know. Remember when Robert and Maria would send you over to me and granddad's? When we'd set up a telescope in the park?"

"I remember I came down with a cold."

Evelyn whacked him over the head.

"Ow!"

"Serves you right. We had fun, and you know it."

They had, Jonah reflected, but that was when he hadn't seen his grandmother hiding her tears. He'd asked granddad about it, and he'd always murmur something about looking for home.

It had taken him awhile to realize what home he was talking about.

"Do you still use that telescope?" Evelyn asked.

Jonah shrugged. "Here and there."

"Jo-Jo, you can lie to your parents, you can lie to yourself, but don't think you can lie to me."

Didn't I just do that earlier? Still, his grandmother had her hands on her hips, and she was in "the mood," so he instead said, "no, I don't use it much."

Evelyn glared at him.

"Alright, at all." He swung around in his chair to stare at the computer screen. "There's no need. And besides, Tarsonis City has so much light pollution, you can't get a good view of the stars."

She sniffed, conceding the point. Over the decades, Tarsonis's first city had spread across the world's surface like a cancer. Initially, the planet's populace had clustered together, having safety in numbers against the world's indigenous fauna, but time, numbers, and technology had changed things. And not entirely for the better.

"And there's also the moons," Jonah added. "Get all four of them out, and it makes things even harder."

"Ah yes, the moons," said Evelyn dismissively. "I ever tell you how Earth only had one moon?"

"Yes, actually. Many times."

"It was much smaller. Bit less bright as well. But…" She sighed, as she drifted off. Indulging in memories of a far-off time, on a far-off planet. One that she'd never be able to return to, and one that no-one in this part of the galaxy would ever see. Or, given the circumstances, want to.

Or at least, none of Tarsonis's generations bar the Earthborn themselves, Jonah supposed. The remaining survivours of the Long Sleep had never seen Tarsonis in the same way their offspring had. They were the ones who insisted that people still study the ATLAS databanks. Who pressed for closer cooperation with Moria and Umoja, even as the three worlds drifted further apart. They were the ones who spoke most loudly against the Confederacy's rulers, that the former Council of Commanders (now simply "the Council") was becoming hereditary, that dynasties were forming around the commanders' lineages. They'd even kept Tarsonis on the old Gregorian calendar (so by their reckoning, it was the year 2328), and who'd been the most vocal in trying to get Tarsonsis's sister worlds onboard with the newly declared Terran Confederacy.

They'd failed. They saw the Umojans and Morians as their kin. But most people in the so-called Koprulu sector didn't. Earthborn saw themselves as all one people, across the light-years that separated them, their offspring saw themselves as citizens of their homeworlds. Even the name "Terran Confederacy" reflected the new vernacular of "terran" rather than "human," to distinguish the people from their ancestors.

Jonah watched his grandmother wipe her eye. It was his birthday, but he knew there was more to this. Evelyn didn't have long left. And maybe, he could…

"Come on," he said, taking her hand. "Let me show you something."

He began typing on the terminal.

"It's not the same, you know," she said. "My parents, back on Earth…we'd drive to the Outback to stare at the Milky Way. Away from Sydney. The whole world was collapsing, but in those times…"

Jonah knew it. He knew that his mother had been born in a country called Australia which, like Tarsonis, had been populated by convicts. History had a way of repeating itself.

"I remember," Evelyn whispered, talking to herself as much as anyone else, "my father, he was a Koori…he'd tell me about the old names for the stars. Said that if I ever went into astronomy, I should always take time to observe the stars with my own eyes. Not just through a telescope."

"Well, gran, it's a new world, literally," Jonah said.

"I know," she whispered.

"And besides," he said, "I never said I wasn't searching for home."

He pressed the ENTER key and a display of the galaxy appeared on the terminal above. A rough map of the galaxy.

"We're here," Jonah said, gesturing towards the Tarsonis system – a main-sequence star on the galactic fringe, and an entirely unremarkable one at that. "And Earth…" He traced a finger across the display, to the other side of the galaxy, "is somewhere over here."

Evelyn stared at the screen, and shook her head. "That's not really narrowing it down."

"No," he said. "But based on everything I've done…"

He tapped some buttons, and the display zoomed in. Compressing the location of Earth by a few thousand light-years.

"…I have a better sense of where your home is."

Evelyn looked at him.

"I know how much it means to you. Heck, it even means something to dad. And I…" He took a breath. "Y'know, sometimes, I want off-planet. The Confederacy is already trying to claim as many worlds as it can, and I know it's nothing but a planetary land rush against the Morians and Umojans, but…but I know how much home means to you. And I thought if I could just find it…"

He trailed off, not knowing what to say. But as his grandmother hugged him…hugged him, as she'd once done under the stars all those years ago…he understood. Understood that she understood, and that sometimes, words weren't needed.

"Happy birthday, Jonah Raynor," she whispered.

He blushed. Evelyn had kept her maiden name. Her son and grandson had embraced the surname of Jonah's grandfather.

"Now then," she said, withdrawing from the embrace. "Why don't you open your present?"

But it isn't even wrapped up, his inner child wanted to say. Still, he was thirty years old, and his childhood had reached its end long ago. So, without a word, he opened the box with one hand, and took out the trinket with another.

"It's beautiful," he whispered.

It was only his opinion, granted, but it was an opinion he couldn't see anyone disagreeing with. The wooden trinket, cut in the shape of a tear drop, formed a series of intricate patterns – white, black, and red. The patterns themselves were simple – stripes and dots – but within each of the patterns were slight differences. The dot leading to the line, the line intersecting with the other…whoever had made it had either a great deal of time, or a great deal of effort.

Or both.

"This wood came from a tree in the Sahel," Evelyn said, as her grandson held it. "From Africa. The continent mankind first evolved on." She sighed wistfully. "A little piece of home."

"And you kept it all those years?"

"I was wearing it when the soldiers took me. When they put me in a shuttle, and I woke up in the bowels of a supercarrier. All because of the gene therapy I had when I was little." Jonah watched as his grandmother clenched her fist – hard enough that he saw her knuckles turn red. "All because of what I was…"

It was fashionable to say that every terran had some criminal blood in them, since, ostensibly, that had been the UPL's entire rationale. Round up the undesirables, and put them to work. And while the four supercarriers that had left Sol had undoubtedly some genuine criminals among them, Jonah knew that the UPL's criteria for 'criminal' was very broad indeed.

Individuals who'd undergone gene therapy. The cybernetically enhanced. Political dissidents. People who wanted to retain their religion, their culture, their language.

As he clutched the trinket his grandmother had given him, he turned his gaze back to the galactic map. It was close to a century since the ships had left Earth. Perhaps humanity's homeworld had changed, be it for the better or worse. But…

He shut down the display. It was one thing to wonder about Earth's location. Another to want to actually go back there. If he was to ever leave Tarsonis, it would be on a world much closer to the world that had been his home for all his thirty years. Though…

It'll always be home to you, won't it?

He looked back at his grandmother. Soon, she'd be dead. Even if she hadn't said it, he knew that the reason she was giving him this trinket now was as much due to her age as his. Soon…likely too soon…she would depart this world. The ranks of the Earthborn would be thinned, and their descendants would continue to look to different stars from the ones their ancestors had beheld.

"Thanks, gran." He hugged her. "Thanks for everything."

She sniffed, and tightened her grasp. "Happy birthday."

He didn't know how long they remained in the embrace. But long enough.

Long enough to think of the stars. Of how once, he'd been able to see them with his naked eyes.

Long enough to think of Kylie. To wonder how this relic of Earth would look around her neck.

Long enough, to think of the future, in hope and fear alike.

Not long enough for everything.

But long enough for now.