Terra (27 page)

Lbbp gave Terra’s shoulder a pat. -
I’ll go first.

Mr Bradbury had never known how he’d feel if he ever met the being who’d taken his child away. When it had first happened, the grief had been too intense to leave any room for anger. When, some time later, the anger came at last, sadness and shame soon overwhelmed it. Since the arrival of the spaceship he’d heard Lbbp’s side of the story – everyone on Earth had – and now they were face to face he found himself looking at someone who, for all the physical differences between them and the extraordinary distance between the places they called home, was much like himself . . . an ordinary person who tried to do the right thing and sometimes made dreadful mistakes.

Lbbp extended his hand in imitation of the Ymn gesture he’d observed. ‘I . . .’ he said, the unaccustomed sound stretching his mouth uncomfortably. ‘I’m . . .’ He tried to access the Ymn language learning patch but now he needed it, the information seemed vague and jumbled. Useless Interface, thought Lbbp.

‘I’m . . . sor-ry . . .’

Mr Bradbury took Lbbp’s hand and shook it gently.

‘I’m sorry too.’

There was a momentary glow behind Lbbp. Mr Bradbury swallowed, and Lbbp stepped to one side.

Mr Bradbury studied the little face that now looked up at him. His own eyes, his wife’s face . . . If there had been any doubt in his mind – what doubt could there have been? – it was gone now. His mind raced in search of something, anything to say.

Terra spoke first, in slightly accented but perfect English. ‘Am I supposed to call you Daddy?’

Mr Bradbury laughed tearfully. ‘You can call me whatever you want . . .’

He took a step towards the child; he only meant to stoop down to bring their faces level but his legs buckled and he found himself on his knees before her. For a moment his lips moved silently. When the words came, they poured from him in a great shuddering cry.

‘We never even gave you a name . . .’

Terra put her arms round his head and stroked his hair as his tears dampened her shiny blue suit.

‘Terra,’ she said softly. ‘My name is Terra.’

A minute or so later, a calmer and more collected Mr Bradbury was leading Terra through the front door. Terra looked around her. She knew that it was unlikely she’d recognise anything, but she hoped to see something, anything that might trigger a memory of some kind. But there was nothing. A twinge of disappointment; Terra had expected the Bradburys’ house to feel at least a little bit like ‘home’, but now she was standing here she felt every bit as alien as she’d ever felt on Fnrr.

Major Hardison was sat in a chair, deep in conversation with a female Ymn who sat opposite him in a similar chair.

The Ymn woman turned her head, with what seemed to be some difficulty, to look at Terra for the first time.

Hope is a terrifying thing sometimes.

In the days since the ship had arrived and changed the world, so many people all over the planet had been hoping for many different things. Scientists had hoped for great leaps forward in technology; the sick had hoped for miraculous new medicines, military leaders had (secretly) been hoping for devastating new weapons, religious zealots had been hoping for confirmation of their preferred ancient prophecy, and a lot of people on the internet were hoping that the next ship to arrive would bring Elvis back.

Only one person on Earth hadn’t been hoping for anything at all.

Mrs Bradbury did not hope, because she would not allow herself to hope. Every time the thought that she was about to get her little girl back entered her mind, she furiously suppressed it. Even if this child was her own lost baby – and it seemed certain that she was – how could it possibly be as simple a matter as her lost child coming home? Coming home? Home? This house had never been her home. This planet had never been her home. She and Mr Bradbury had never been her family. The child had another life, another family, another world to which she belonged. How could she slot back into their lives as if nothing had happened? Why would she even want to?

Mrs Bradbury had been working very hard to stop hope from taking root in her mind, for she knew that when the hope proved false – as she felt sure it would – the pain of losing her child all over again would literally be more than she could bear.

Right now the thought Mrs Bradbury was trying not to have was that the girl now standing in her living room was every bit as bright, alert and pretty as she’d dreamed her child would be by now.

A moment’s quiet.

Mr Bradbury was waiting by the door. This was something he wasn’t going to be able to help with. Professor Steinberg, despite his excitement, sensed that now was not a moment for enthusiasm. For politeness’s sake, he introduced himself quietly to Mr Bradbury.

‘I remember reading about what happened,’ he said. ‘It’s amazing anyone believed you.’

‘They didn’t,’ said Mr Bradbury.

Professor Steinberg was going to say ‘I did,’ when he noticed that Mrs Bradbury was about to speak.

‘It was your birthday. Two weeks ago.’

‘How old am I?’ Perfect English; a hint of an accent. Mrs Bradbury composed herself and went on.

‘Twelve. You . . . you’re twelve now.’ Nearly said ‘would have been’.

‘Really? I’m still eight back – back on Fnrr. The years. They’re a little longer.’

‘I see.’

Terra had been about to say ‘back home’. She’d caught herself just in time. She hoped her mother hadn’t noticed. She knew she had.

‘Can I see my room?’

‘Of course.’

Mrs Bradbury led Terra to the bottom of the staircase.
Oh yes, stairs,
thought Terra.
I hope I can use them correctly. Should be easy, they’re like the Forum steps in Hrrng but much narrower.
Watching her mother’s actions carefully, she followed up behind her. It felt strange, and yet entirely natural.

Mr Bradbury watched his wife and daughter ascend the stairs, then turned to the others and spoke. ‘I’d . . . I’d better . . .’

Major Hardison nodded and Mr Bradbury climbed the stairs. Professor Steinberg had been about to follow when Major Hardison shot him a glance which he and even Lbbp understood immediately. Professor Steinberg sat in one of the armchairs and beckoned to Lbbp to sit in the other.

‘So . . .’

‘So?’

‘So, um, not your first time on Earth, then . . .’

‘No. First time among Ymns, though.’

‘And how are you finding us?’

‘Fascinating.’

Professor Steinberg let out an involuntary yelp of laughter. Major Hardison glowered at him. ‘Oh come on,’ pleaded Professor Steinberg, shaking with suppressed mirth. ‘Fascinating,’ repeated Professor Steinberg in a deep voice, raising one eyebrow. ‘Far out . . .’ he chuckled. Major Hardison shook his head sadly. Lbbp had absolutely no idea what was going on, but at least Professor Steinberg seemed happy.

Mrs Bradbury pushed the nursery door open. Yellow sunlight poured through thin curtains. Terra took a step inside. Shelves, a few brightly coloured books, some simple plastic toys, all obviously intended for the baby she had once been and could never be again. In the corner, what looked like a tiny cage; on closer inspection, a little bed surrounded by wooden bars.
To stop me rolling out in my sleep,
thought Terra.
To keep me safe. Like the straps in the car. Just to keep me safe.

Mrs Bradbury stood behind Terra, longing to speak but with no idea what to say.

‘Did I sleep here?’

‘No.’ Mrs Bradbury swallowed and went on. ‘You were still too tiny. You slept in a basket beside my bed. We were going to move you in here when . . . when it . . . when you went away.’

Terra thought.

Mrs Bradbury waited.

Mr Bradbury silently entered the room and put an arm round his wife’s shoulders. She was shivering.

Terra spoke.

‘This isn’t going to work.’

Mrs Bradbury shuddered and her husband’s arm tightened around her. ‘No, of course it isn’t.’

Terra turned round. ‘If I’m going to be living here from now on, I’ll need a much bigger bed,’ she said.

Mrs Bradbury let out a great sob, which turned into a laugh, and back into a sob, and she was laughing and crying all at once, and her husband joined in, and they both wrapped their arms around their little girl like they would never ever let her go again.

Downstairs, Professor Steinberg listened to the sounds of joy and laughter coming through the ceiling.

‘Well . . . I guess she’s staying.’

Even Major Hardison smiled, and shook Professor Steinberg’s hand.

Lbbp sat alone. He tried his best to be happy. He knew he would be one day.

T
erra dreamed.

In her dreams she was flying, flying over rainbow beaches and deep pink seas. Flying over spires of crystal and steel, flying through soft clouds, soft downy clouds, clouds that tangled around her limbs and pulled her off course until she crashed down onto the carpeted floor of her bedroom.

Duvets.

Like everything else in Terra’s new world, duvets were going to take some getting used to.

One thing Terra was sure she’d never get used to was having to wash herself before getting dressed. It was all so much fuss and bother. She had to admit that showers felt fantastic, though.

She trotted down the stairs – she could take them at quite a pace now without stumbling – and greeted her parents. She sniffed the air.

‘Pancakes!’ she said happily.

‘Of course,’ smiled her mother.

The car arrived just as Terra was finishing her pancakes. She got into the back with her parents on either side of her. Terra still found travelling by car bumpy and noisy, but at least it didn’t make her sick, as she had feared it might when she first tried it.

‘How long is this going to take?’ she asked her father.

‘About an hour.’

About ten minutes by bubble,
reflected Terra,
but never mind.

Fifty-eight minutes later, the car passed through a security checkpoint manned by young soldiers who seemed quite excited to see them, and drove on into the airbase.

Terra was delighted to see Lbbp’s little ship, hovering above a flat stretch of runway. She hadn’t seen it for three weeks and now there it was, surrounded by all that bulky, messy Ymn technology. It looked so . . . simple.

Major Hardison stepped forward to greet them as they got out of the car. He was dressed not in his smart blue uniform, but in the shimmery one-piece garment of a Fnrrn. Behind him, and similarly dressed, was Professor Steinberg. His garment looked rather tighter on him than Major Hardison’s. Behind him stood Lbbp. Terra raced to Lbbp and flung her arms around him.

-
I’m so happy to see you! How have you been?

-
Not bad. The gravity gets to me occasionally. I’ll be glad to get home, although it’ll be so . . . quiet.

-
You’ll have lots to do, though. The treaty with the G’grk, the rebuilding of the Forum, establishing . . . what was it again?

-
Proper cultural and diplomatic relations with Rrth,
said Lbbp,
although that will be Major Hardison and Professor Steinberg’s job more than mine. I’ll just be advising.

Terra looked over her shoulder at her parents. They were talking to Major Hardison.

-
Anyway, never mind me, how are YOU getting along?
asked Lbbp.

-
I’m getting the hang of it,
replied Terra.
I’m starting Ymn school in a month. I’m not looking forward to that.

-
It can’t be any harder than starting the Lyceum was, and you managed that okay,
said Lbbp.
It should be less eventful, at least.

-
I’m not sure,
said Terra.
We’ve changed so much about these people’s lives just by coming here. I think Rrth has some interesting times ahead.

-
Well, you can keep me informed with the infralight comm. You’ve kept it hidden?

-
Yes,
said Terra,
I know, we don’t want them tinkering with it before they know how it works. I haven’t even switched it on yet. I’m dying for news from Fnrr. Have you heard anything?

-
Well, let’s see,
said Lbbp . . .
The terms of the peace treaty are still being discussed, which is fine, the Dsktn refugees are nearly all home, which is better, and Pktk and Fthfth have written a play. About you. It’s a musical.

Terra said nothing, but was suddenly quite glad she was twenty-eight light years away from Fnrr. -
So when will you be back?

-
Six, oh, whatever it is they call cycles here . . .

-
Months?

-
That’s it.

Terra hugged Lbbp again. -
I’m not sorry, you know.

-
What?

-
I’m not sorry you did what you did. Not sorry I grew up with you. And Mum and Dad
(Lbbp had got used to hearing Terra call them that now)
say they’re not sorry anymore either. They’re always saying they’re much better parents now than they would have been.

-
It’s very kind of them to say so,
said Lbbp, even though he didn’t believe a word of it.

-
And anyway, I don’t need to have the best Mum and Dad in the world,
said Terra,
because I’ll always know that somewhere up there, I’ve got the best stepfather in the known universe.

-
I’m so proud of you,
said Lbbp. He held up his hand.
Always here.

Terra touched her fingertips to his. -
I’m so proud of YOU . . . Always here.

Ten minutes later, Terra stood with her parents either side of her as the little lemon-shaped spaceship rose gently into the air.

Onboard, Major Hardison and Professor Steinberg did their best to get comfortable in the flight seats that had been rather haphazardly installed. Lbbp turned to address them.

‘Ready?’

Major Hardison nodded. Professor Steinberg gestured with his fingers.

‘Engage!’ he said, and giggled.

Major Hardison sighed. It was going to be a long trip.

As Terra, her parents, and a few dozen extremely important military and scientific personnel watched, the little spaceship shot upwards and disappeared from view.