Juno of Taris (30 page)

We walked back to our seats through a buzz of questions.

‘What other information is there that we could use?’

‘Could we find something that could help us survive?’

‘Vima, you said there were only written records on the Governance Computers – did you read anything that could help us?’

That was the start of people beginning to treat Vima as they’d done before her pregnancy. And so we wove structure back into our lives and endured the uncertainty of our future.

Hilto took no part in our new way of life. He lived on in bitter silence in the prison we built for him. We brought him good food, treated him with respect and took turns to guard him. He did not speak and held in his silence the secret of why he hated me. My family was exempt from guarding him.

At a meeting two weeks after Fisa’s death, Trebe announced, ‘My people, we have lost three of our number but we haven’t discussed the replacement babies. There is space for two babies.’ She smiled at Vima but didn’t mention the fact that she was pregnant without permission, and without, when it happened, a space. ‘If any couple wants to have a child please put your names forward.’

That little announcement sparked the usual buzz of speculation and interest. At school the next day all the girls and some of the boys talked about it. I joined Paz and Silvern. We sat apart and didn’t talk about babies.

But nobody wanted to take the risk of bringing a child into a dying world.

Life changed even as it continued in the familiar patterns. We now met in each other’s homes more often. We walked freely during recreation hour. We worked all the ways that we knew to keep our island functioning. Trebe and Creen scolded Vima for working too hard. Vima took no notice and she didn’t speak of Jov. She wore her tunic loosely belted so that it didn’t show her pregnancy. Sina made a point of emphasising hers.

Occasionally, I managed to get Vima away from her work to come to the bay. The second time we went she lay back on the sand and sighed. ‘It’s good to be here. It’s one place I don’t feel Sina’s eyes on me.’

She didn’t mention Jov. ‘Sina’s enjoying her pregnancy,’ I said.

‘And making sure everyone knows it.’ Vima sat up. ‘Did you hear what she said about morning sickness – where I could hear, of course?’

I grinned. Of course I’d heard. The island gossip-train was the healthiest machine on Taris. ‘She hasn’t been sick because she’s so happy,’ I parroted.

Vima lay down again and muttered, ‘Well, can’t blame her I guess. I don’t like me much either.’

Hera whacked the water. ‘Vee nice! Hera ’oves Vee!’

A month after Fisa’s death, the temperature rose one degree. It took five days to fix the problem. Then three weeks after that, Oban discovered another leak in the biosphere. We fixed it, but wondered how much longer our fragile world would last.

My parents, grandparents and I stopped talking of why Hilto and Majool had wanted me dead. My grandparents could throw no light on the mystery and so we spoke of other things.

Vima, Jov and Aspa reported every few meetings on material they’d found on the Governance computers. One day it was a set of photos from the first years of Taris. They showed them on the big screen we used to watch documentaries. We fell silent, watching our history. There was Fisa, much younger and with long, straight hair. In every picture she was laughing. There, too, were the other Companions: Majool confident and strong with the look of a pirate about him; Hilto solemn and intense, with Lenna never far away and smiling under a mop of bright curly hair; Camnoon, even then, had the air of stillness about him. He wore a strange robe of bright orange.

Another day, Aspa announced that they’d found some old movies, and did we want to see one? ‘Yes!’ we roared with one voice.

The movie was a very old one called
The Sound
of Music
. ‘We’ve watched it,’ he told us, ‘and it won’t frighten the children too much.’

We discovered we knew the songs! We sang along with the soundtrack and kept our eyes glued to the wonders on the screen.

‘The clothes!’ gasped Silvern. ‘That Baroness – she knows how to dress!’

There was so much to amaze us. And Vima and I found out what Nazis were. It felt now as if we’d found that word in another lifetime.

I spoke to her about it, but her mind had gone in a different direction. ‘I’m like the Baroness.’

‘Huh?’ I couldn’t follow her reasoning.

‘I just gave Jov up, like she gave up the Captain.’

‘True,’ I agreed, ‘but Maria wasn’t pregnant, and neither was she.’

‘There is that,’ she sighed.

The babies would be born a month apart if Trebe was right in her predictions – Vima’s would arrive first. She wouldn’t talk about it and we didn’t know if it was to be a girl or a boy.

Sina announced that they had decided to call their son Hope. Her grandmother said, ‘Hope is a girl’s name Outside.’

Sina replied, ‘We’re not Outside.’

Jov went along with it.

Vima didn’t ease up on work and took little time off so I was surprised when she turned up at my house a few weeks before her baby would be born. Mother kissed her. ‘Vima dear, how lovely to see you. I’ll make a drink.’

Vima rubbed her eyes. ‘Look – this is probably total rubbish, but I found a list today and it got me thinking.’

‘Well? Keep going.’ I fielded Hera before she could land in Vima’s lap.

But Vima didn’t talk about the list. ‘Juno – what’s the name of your genetic mother?’

My heart quickened, Mother gasped and Dad drew a chair up to the table. ‘Sofia Preston,’ I said. ‘Why?’

She slapped her hands over her mouth. ‘Oh! That explains it – I think.’

I wanted to shake her, but Dad put a hand on my arm. ‘We’re still in the dark here, Vima.’

She shook her head. ‘Sorry.’ She took a deep breath. ‘The list I found gives the Outside names of all the first settlers of Taris. Fisa’s name was Sofia Preston.’

We just stared at her. Fisa? My genetic mother? I was her daughter?

I shook my head but that didn’t make the news any easier to absorb. ‘She knew. She must have known. And she saved me.’ I burst into tears.

Mother patted my shoulder distractedly. ‘Fisa’s daughter. Her immortality.’

‘It must have eaten away at Majool and Hilto. They must have known as well,’ Dad said. ‘They couldn’t bear for her to have what they didn’t.’

‘But,’ I asked, ‘why didn’t my grandparents know?’

We invited them to dinner and asked them. But they were as astonished as we had been. ‘We didn’t know Fisa’s surname – we hadn’t known her Outside and we only used our first names once we got to Taris.’

Bazin shook his head. ‘Even when we heard the names of your genetic parents, we didn’t for a second think that that Sofia was our Sofia. She’d been Fisa so long by then that we’d forgotten.’

I didn’t want to tell everyone else. ‘They’ve only just stopped looking at me sideways after all the bitch goddess stuff. I couldn’t stand it to start all over again.’

But they all disagreed. ‘No more secrets,’ said Grif.

At the meeting that night, Dad went up on the stage. ‘I have a surprising thing to tell you, my people.’

People looked at me differently for a several days. On the paths, they would smile, shake their heads and murmur, ‘Fisa’s daughter. Who would have thought it?’

Marba chuckled every time he saw me but he also told me what was said when I couldn’t hear. ‘Alvek says it’s no wonder you’re such a stroppy chit. Jerrin says we’ll have to watch you or you’ll try to take over the Governance. That pretty much sums up what everybody’s saying.’ He bounced on his toes and watched me, his head on one side. ‘What’s it like – to suddenly find out you’re her daughter?’

I prodded him to get him moving again. We’d be late for school if we didn’t hurry. But then I stopped; I knew what to say to him. ‘Marba, imagine if, between one heartbeat and the next, you discovered you could at last understand how people feel. That’s what it’s like.’

‘Hmmm,’ was all he said, and he walked the rest of the way to school with a thoughtful frown on his face.

Four days later, Hilto died of a heart attack. We cremated his body then burned down his prison.

My family and Vima’s dined together that night. It wasn’t exactly a celebration. ‘More an expression of relief,’ Bazin said.

Vima was last to arrive and when she did, she couldn’t settle but prowled the room. Mother pushed a beaker of mango juice into her hand and said, ‘For goodness sake, Vima – relax! You’re working much too hard. Rest while you can.’

She flopped into a chair and gulped at her drink.

‘What is it?’ I demanded. ‘Vima – you might as well tell us. What’s wrong?’

She finished the drink. It was as if she needed the courage. ‘Aspa’s going to tell everyone tomorrow night anyway. It’s the Techno Centre. Nothing is working as it should and we can’t fix it. We don’t know how and we probably don’t have the parts even if we did. More things break every day.’

The Techno Centre controlled the temperature, and the hospital equipment, and monitored the bio-sphere and the water quality. Our school computers were networked to it.

‘How long?’ Danyat asked. ‘How long have we got?’

Vima shrugged. ‘A month maybe.’

A month. Such a tiny space of time. None of us moved or spoke except Hera. She ran to Vima and patted her arm. ‘Don’t worry, Vee, they’s coming. Soon be here. You be okay. Don’t be sad, Vee.’

For a second, nobody moved, then Vima dropped to her knees to look in Hera’s eyes. ‘Who’s coming, Bubs?’

Hera frowned. ‘I Hera. I not Bubs.’

‘Sorry. Who’s coming, Hera?’

Hera waved an arm. ‘The peoples in the big boat, of course.’

‘What …?’

‘Does she mean …?’

‘She’s only a baby …’

‘I not a baby! I big!’

‘She knew about my pregnancy,’ Vima said.

We began to consider the possibility.

My grandmothers served the meal but I doubt that any of us knew what we ate. When we’d finished, Danyat said, ‘We can’t say anything. It would be too cruel. She’s got no understanding of what we’re facing and she’s just a – er – she’s so young.’

‘Taris breaking,’ Hera remarked and spooned more food into her mouth.

‘Bloody hell,’ said Bazin.

‘But we can’t say anything,’ Grif argued. ‘There’s no evidence – nothing. It’ll just cause needless suffering.’

The following evening we sat in the arena listening while Aspa told us we were doomed. Oh, what the heck! I jumped up and ran to the stage. People watched me, but their minds were busy trying to absorb the knowledge that we had only a few weeks left to live. I grabbed the microphone, and Aspa seemed only too happy to let me have it.

‘My people, listen to what I have to say. You can choose to believe, or not. It’s … well, listen and you’ll see.’ I told them of Hera’s prediction.

‘A fairy tale,’ said Jerrin. ‘Nothing. Nonsense.’

Others muttered their agreement, but Oban said, ‘I suggest we prepare the landing dock. Just in case.’

And that was it. Not even worth repeating on the paths. Silvern said, ‘You know – I kind of don’t believe it, but I feel more hopeful.’

Sina was heard to say, ‘It’s ridiculous. Believing a two-year-old! They’ll make her a Governance Companion next.’

Vima grinned at me. ‘Ah ha, watch out. You’re tainted with the Vima virus.’ But I didn’t care. Vima’s eyes weren’t so haunted since Hera’s bombshell.

Three days later, at dusk, Oban came tearing down the mountain. He raced along the paths, shouting, screaming, waving his arms. ‘They’re coming! They’re coming! It’s a ship! They’ll be here by morning!’

‘The peoples!’ Hera shouted. I picked her up and ran to the arena. Her face! Was she related to Silvern? I swear she was looking smug.

Oban vaulted onto the stage. ‘A ship! It’s coming! I saw it. They must have got the message. Vima, you sent it. You did send it.’ He leapt down, ran to her and hugged her.

My knees gave way and I collapsed onto the ground laughing and crying. All around me, people hugged, danced, laughed and wept.

Danyat ran to the stage. ‘We need to take lights to the landing dock. We need to signal that we’re here.’

Hands shot up all over the arena. ‘I’ll go! I’ll go!’

Rofan laughed and said, ‘Let all go who want to. But first we’ll send Oban back with lights.’

He chose Kalta to go with him.

Nobody left the arena until they came back. ‘They’re anchored off the island,’ Oban reported. ‘We flashed the light and they responded. They’ll be here in the morning.’

I would wait. I’d had enough of climbing the mountain in the dark. Many people, though, ran off to climb it to stare out at the ship. Dad raced up to me, Hera on his shoulders. ‘Can you believe it? We’re going to survive!’

Mother hugged me. ‘It’s happening! Just like she said.’ She patted Hera’s knee. Hera crowed and thumped Dad’s head. All around us, people laughed, shouted, sang, danced.

The one question we heard over and over as we ran home to prepare food for the celebration party was, ‘Will you live Outside, or will you stay here if we can fix Taris?’

Vima zoomed up beside me. ‘You reckon they’ll still call their baby Hope? Poor little brat. What a name for an Outside boy.’

I laughed, and then laughed again because the shadows had gone from her eyes.

Who would stay and who would go? Vima would go. So would Oban. I wanted to go, but I wouldn’t go without my family.

But those questions were for later. Now was party time. Not many of us would sleep much tonight.