Juno of Taris (29 page)

Then she told me news that made me gape at her. ‘Majool and Lenna have chosen death. They’ve gone already. They went with no ceremony and no farewell.’

Trebe said, ‘Come on, Juno. Eat up. We’ll need to leave soon.’

‘One more thing.’ I looked at Vima. ‘Why did you go up the mountain? Night. Rain. Dumb.’

‘Too dangerous in the daytime.’ She pulled a face. ‘I wanted to go during recreation hour, or before the evening meal, but they watched me constantly and followed me. I complained to Aspa that they wouldn’t leave me alone to do my work and Majool said too much freedom was bad. That’s when I decided to go at night.’ She frowned and shook her head.

‘What?’

‘I wanted to send a message. I’d worked it out.
I am Vima, one of the five hundred citizens of Taris. We
need your help and some of us want to live Outside.
’

‘Did you send it?’

‘I can’t remember.’

Nobody spoke. So close. We’d been so close to getting the help that would save Taris.

Mother stood up. ‘It’s time to go. Let’s get the unpleasantness over and then we can work out how to keep ourselves alive.’

We walked in procession back to the arena. Silvern, Paz and the rest of our stratum joined us and we took our usual places on the floor. Vima lay on her stretcher as she had that morning. Her parents, Trebe and Creen sat beside her. Oban was one of Hilto’s guards. Camnoon, too, was flanked by two strong men, but I didn’t believe he was a danger. His face was as tranquil as always, but it looked shrunken and ancient.

Aspa conducted the meeting. ‘They chose him this morning,’ Marba whispered. ‘It’s just for today. We’ll chose the new Companions tonight.’

Aspa kept to the familiar pattern of our meetings. First the Pledge and then the
Song of Taris
.

I sang of the love that asks no questions and felt it might be time for a new song for Taris. Such love hadn’t served us well. Aspa signalled for us to sit down. ‘We are a people of peace. Let us remember that in the decisions we make today.’

I glanced at Paz and then at Oban, remembering their hot words about killing the Governance Companions with their bare hands. Oban’s face was set hard. He didn’t look like a man of peace.

Aspa gave us the order of the meeting: first would come the discussion about Hilto’s fate, then Camnoon’s. Then we would honour Fisa, and finally we would choose our new Governance Companions.

My parents asked the first question. ‘Hilto,’ said my father, ‘you accused our daughter. You tried to kill her. Why?’

Hilto’s arms strained against the ropes and his face darkened. ‘I’ll tell you nothing! Nothing! You hear me?’ He spat on the floor. Oban and the other men moved closer, ready for action, but Hilto subsided back onto his chair.

Other questions followed. What was the state of Outside now? Why hadn’t they told us they were in communication with Outside? Did all the Companions know about the communication centre? Did they all decide not to tell us?

But he clamped his mouth shut and told us nothing.

Aspa asked, ‘You have the right to speak in your defence. Do you wish to do so?’

Hilto snarled. ‘Nothing. I’ll say nothing.’

I would never know. He’d hated me. Majool and Lenna had also hated me, but not as openly.

The meeting went on, but I found it difficult to care about Hilto’s fate. I thought he’d choose death, but he didn’t and nobody suggested that to him as an option. We were a people of peace. We must be true to that, or we had nothing. I wished he’d drop down dead.

In the end, it was Oban who proposed the solution. ‘He’s dangerous,’ he said. ‘We can’t trust him. The only thing to do is to build a secure place and keep him there.’

‘A prison,’ Nixie said, his voice full of sorrow. ‘This is a grievous day indeed when we need a prison on Taris. But I agree, it is the only way.’

‘What’s a prison?’ the question sped along the ranks of the younger people.

Nixie said, ‘Prisons are one of the things we believed we could avoid by creating Taris. They are grim places without hope, where people are locked up for crimes against society.’

If Hilto wouldn’t die, I was glad he was to be put in a prison.

Now it was time to decide Camnoon’s fate. He stood up, and bowed to Aspa, ‘With your permission I will speak.’

He never spoke. We’d never heard him say more than a sentence. We waited while he made his way to the podium. ‘I can answer some of your questions.’ He let the hiss of expectation die before he continued. ‘Yes, all five of us knew about the communication centre. We all decided not to tell of the contact with Outside. Fisa and I climbed up there ourselves for the first year after we reestablished contact. Each report from Outside told of a civilisation in deep trouble. There were extreme weather events, killer viruses. War over water and oil. We were glad to be on Taris. Our fault was in not continuing to check.’

Rofan asked, ‘What’s it like Outside now?’

Camnoon sighed. ‘Hilto, Majool and Lenna said it is bad. They said there are only pockets of populations left and that often they are at war with each other.’ He paused. ‘But now I wonder if that is the truth of it.’

My mother called out the next question, ‘Do you know why they hated Juno?’

‘Hilto and Majool are – were – atheists.’ That was another word we didn’t know, but he didn’t explain. ‘As they grew older they craved immortality – posterity – and the only way was to leave a child behind them.’

‘But why Juno?’ Leebar shouted. ‘Why just her?’

Camnoon looked to where I sat huddled against Silvern. ‘I am sorry, Juno. I don’t know.’ He shifted on his feet and grew older before our eyes. ‘They both became obsessed about it.’ He spoke directly to me. ‘We took so long to give your parents permission to have Hera because Majool wanted a different couple to be the parents. He wanted to use his own sperm so that he would leave a child behind him.’ He sighed. ‘Fisa and I refused to agree. Such a thing went against all Taris stood for. Majool backed down finally and seemed to be content.’

Now, of all times, Hilto chose to speak. He spat hate-loaded words at us. ‘The brat is his child.’ He half rose to his feet and his guards tensed, ready to restrain him. ‘He beat you all, and you’ve got to live with his leavings. What’ll you do now, eh? Kill her?’ His crazy laugher shivered through us.

Hera broke the silence. ‘Bad man!’ She burst into noisy sobs.

I sat winded. With every atom of my being I knew that my sister was not Majool’s daughter. I found myself on my feet and running to the stage. Oban and the others pushed Hilto back into his chair and prevented him from accosting me.

Aspa moved aside, his face concerned. I managed to give him a quick smile. I cleared my throat and began the story of my eleven-year-old impulsiveness. ‘My people, I think Majool did use his own sperm.’

Dad shouted, ‘You mean Hera
is
his daughter?’

Mother hugged Hera tight and she screeched, ‘Bad man!’

I shook my head. ‘No. But he thought she was. Remember? There were two embryos and one wasn’t viable. That one was his. He must have got rid of the sperm from the father you chose, and used his instead.’

‘Could he have done that?’ Aspa asked Trebe.

She, too, looked winded, but she nodded. ‘Yes, he knew how the technology worked. He must have gone at night.’ She shook her head. ‘And the foundation of our island is trust.’ She was nearly in tears.

‘But if she’s not Majool’s child, then whose is she?’ Marba called.

My face burned, but there was no escape. I had to stand there and tell them what I’d done on the day of the earthquake. ‘And so,’ I concluded, ‘my sister is the daughter of a woman called Margaretta and a man called Derrick. He was a physicist and a storyteller. She was a medical researcher and she spoke of joy.’ I finished and scuttled off the stage, not daring to look at anyone.

But the laughter began before I could sit down – joyous laughter full of relief, threaded through with Hilto’s bellows of ‘Lies! It’s all lies.’

Aspa summed up the feeling of the people. ‘I think we can all agree that Hera is nothing like Majool.’

‘Bad man!’ Hera shouted.

The laughter had lightened our mood, but Camnoon had no comfort for me. He could not explain why they had tried to kill me or why Hilto hated me so passionately. He held the podium for support as he finished his story. ‘My people, I agree to accept any punishment you choose for me.’

But we had no heart to punish him. He was not dangerous and he was old. He was to live out all the days left to him in peace.

Hilto was taken from the stage.

‘My people,’ Aspa said. ‘It is time to honour Fisa and speak of her deeds.’

For the next hour we spoke of her with love, tears and laughter. My grandparents laid leis on the stage, but they were vibrant and not the white of the death flowers. I learned much about her that I hadn’t known. All I didn’t learn was why she had chosen to die instead of me.

Tomorrow we would scatter her ashes and sing her the songs. But now we had to choose our new Governance Companions. However, before we could begin the discussion, Harl, Sina’s father, raised his hand. ‘My people, my daughter has suffered a grievous blow from one of our number. We need to discuss how we will punish Vima. I suggest that we withdraw from her. She can have Hilto’s house and we will require her to stay on the property and speak to no one.’

We rocked under the impact of his quietly spoken words and we heard the determination in them to achieve justice for his daughter. But Jov was on his feet and moving to the stage. With a nod at Aspa, he took the microphone. ‘My people, if that is your decision, then so be it. A punishment is right and just for such a wrong.’

I glanced at Vima. She held her arm across her face.

‘But know this: whatever punishment Vima receives must be mine also. The deed was mutual and so too must be the punishment.’ He paused and we waited in utter silence. ‘There are children involved here. All I can say to each of you is that I’m sorry for the distress I’ve caused. Deeply sorry.’ He walked from the stage.

He didn’t glance at Vima, but I believed that the apology was for her and for Sina, and the rest of us didn’t matter.

Aspa said, ‘I agree with Jov, that any punishment must be equal. Harl, do you wish to speak?’

‘No.’

Poor Jov. He must’ve known he’d anger Harl by speaking, but he had chosen to defend Vima and, in turn, that would further break her heart.

‘Does anyone have a suggestion?’ Aspa asked. When nobody spoke, he said, ‘I suggest we require them both to bend their minds, talents and energies to finding a way to contact Outside. Vima can work in the Techno Centre with me, and Jov will work in the Governance Office. They will both undertake not to meet, and not to communicate.’

Jov nodded. ‘I will comply.’

Vima raised her arm and waved it. Aspa took the microphone down to her. ‘I will comply. I know that my actions have caused sorrow and distress. I am sorry for that.’

But not sorry for loving Jov.

Would this meeting never end? All this emotion – it was more wearing than rescuing Vima had been. We moved on to the choosing of our new Governance Companions.

It was soon done. They were to be Aspa, Trebe, Nixie, Rofan and Oban. 

T
here was much to talk of in the days that followed. At home, my parents spoke of Hera’s parentage – and sometimes I would catch them looking at me with puzzlement and sorrow – how could I have done such a thing? Then they would look at Hera and I would be forgiven. Outside our home, larger matters concerned us and we had meetings every evening. We felt Fisa’s presence, her wisdom guided us. ‘Well, Fisa would say …’ and we’d smile and pause, remembering her. But we changed things too. Some of the old ways that had served so well in the beginning no longer fitted, and we set about weaving new ways of being. Our meetings now were divided between trying to keep Taris functioning and learning of our history. Nobody spoke the words aloud, but we knew that Taris was failing. Another earthquake damaged the bio-sphere, the temperature sensors fluctuated, and all the technology would cut out for hours at a time.

It was a relief to turn our minds away from danger and hear stories of Outside. The older people spoke to us too, of things we’d seen a little of in documentaries. They spoke of a world that was disintegrating and we wondered if it was now any better off than we were. They told us how the Taris Project had represented hope to a doomed world.

We asked about the
Song of Taris
and Grif told us about religion, about God and about Taris. ‘Religion Outside had done such damage through the centuries and we didn’t want that on Taris. We agreed to be Rationalists and live our lives by principles of kindness and caring and looking after each other.’

‘But,’ asked Marba, ‘why choose a hymn to a god you didn’t believe in for the
Song of Taris
?
’

Grif smiled. ‘We liked it, and most of us knew it. It was a link with home. But we changed it slightly to fit our beliefs.’

Somebody asked about ‘bitch goddess’, and if they knew why Hilto had called me that.

This was a question that I knew the answer to. I twisted around to look at Vima in the top tier. She pulled a face, but she came down and together we climbed onto the stage. We explained about the phones, took them from our pockets and held them up. I told of teaching Vima to read, and of how we’d found the encyclopedia and looked up my name and Hera’s. ‘They are both names of goddesses of the ancient world,’ I finished.