CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

“The end is where lovers meet.”

—Daniel Vik

 

 

Father Kendi Weaver picked up the empty cup. “More tea?”

“No,” Gretchen said. “But we would like one of Lucia’s croissants, please.”

Kendi selected a plump, flaky croissant from the platter and efficiently sliced it in half with a bread knife. The entire household was gathered here in Salman’s living room. Gretchen, bandaged like war hero, had commandeered a chaise longue. Lucia was overseeing the enormous amounts of food piled on the coffee table. Tan lounged in her usual spot in the doorway. Ben and Harenn shared a sofa with Evan and Ara in their laps, and Salman occupied an armchair. She looked older, and tired. A great deal of her usual energy was absent, and Kendi found the change distinctly odd. He put the croissant on a small plate and started to hand it Gretchen.

“We prefer our croissants with orange marmalade,” she sniffed.

Kendi made a mock bow. Ben laughed and jiggled Ara on his knee.

“Do not become accustomed to this,” Harenn admonished. “I have the feeling that Kendi’s goodwill will not last.”

“And we intend to milk every last drop until it runs out,” Gretchen said airily. “Not so much, Kendi. We have to watch our weight.”

Kendi gave her the plate with another mock bow and sat on the thick carpet. The little yellow lizards chirped softly and skittered about their cage.

“I’m just glad everything’s over,” Kendi said. “The election results may have sucked, but at least we don’t have to worry about them anymore. Sufur is dead—party scheduled for tomorrow—we stopped his weird little scheme, and the doctor’s said Keith is already getting better. Now all we have to do is finish moving into the new house. Me, I don’t think I’m ever going out in public again.”

“So what are you planning, Grandma?” Ben asked. “You’ve been really quiet.”

Salman cleared her throat. “The race took more out of me than I thought,” she said. “I think I’m just going to finish out my term in the Senate and retire. Maybe I can be a professional great-grandma.”

Ben reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “You were always a great grandma.”

“Thank you, my duck.” But her tone was wan. “At least this entire incident has brought Ched-Pirasku around to my way of thinking. Sufur’s scheme made it abundantly clear to everyone that Bellerophon can’t afford to cut back on the military.”

“How are the kidnap victims doing?” Lucia said. “I forgot to ask.”

“They’re fine,” Gretchen said. “The Irfan’s Pride found the cryo-units Peg blew out into space, no problem, and the rest were just sitting in the cargo hold. Most of the people didn’t remember much after Boomer-boy and Peg knocked them out. The whole thing was actually harder on their families. And me.”

“We’ll be forever grateful to you,” Kendi said. Gretchen snorted and took a big bite of croissant.

“Once you’re on your feet again, Gretchen,” Tan rasped from the doorway, “I’ve got a continuing assignment for you, if you want it. Election’s over, but the Father and the Offspring will still need guarding.”

Gretchen swallowed her croissant. “I’ll think about it. Right now I just want to sleep for a month. In fact, I think it’s time for our royal nap. Would someone be so kind as to help us upstairs?”

Lucia rolled her eyes. “Come along then, your majesty. I’ll be glad to help.”

“The babies need to be changed and put down for their naps,” Harenn said, also rising. “Ben?”

“Let me take Ara up,” Tan said suddenly. “I want to hold her for a while.” When she realized everyone was staring at her, she added, “What? I can’t be a grandma, too?”

Gretchen hobbled out of the room with exaggerated care on Lucia’s arm, followed by Tan and Harenn, bearing babies. Kendi plucked Gretchen’s plate from the coffee table and stuffed half the croissant into his mouth.

“I can’t believe you want to retire, Grandma,” Ben said. “It’ll be...I don’t know. Weird.”

“I’m an old lady, love,” she said. “Things aren’t the same anymore.”

“Change is the only constant,” Kendi said, swallowing. “Even in the Dream.”

“Is that a Real People saying?” Ben asked.

“Probably.” Kendi reached toward the coffee table, intending to set the plate down. “The Real People said just about every—shit!” His hand slipped and the plate tumbled toward the floor. Salman automatically reached for it, then snatched her hand back. The plate struck the side of the table and broke in half. The rest of the croissant landed marmalade side down on the carpet. Kendi ignored it. His eyes met Salman’s for a long moment. She stared defiantly back.

“Grandma?” Ben said softly. “Did I just see...?”

Salman didn’t move. Kendi glanced pointedly down at the old woman’s lap, then met her gaze again. “Grandma?”

Slowly, with aching deliberation, Salman Reza held out her hands. For a moment they both remained steady. Then the right one began to shake. Ben let out a long breath. Kendi sat back on the sofa.

“How?” Ben asked. “Why?”

Salman abruptly straightened and the room crackled with her old energy. “How can you of all people ask that, Ben?” she cried. “Padric Sufur was a monster. He engineered the deaths of thousands upon thousands of people. He destroyed my campaign. He killed...he killed...” Her voice fell into a cracked whisper. “He killed my daughter.”

“I should have seen it,” Kendi said. “You knew about Sufur, you knew where the cameras were. You also knew about Ara’s neuro-pistol. How did you get it?”

“I’ve always been cleared for Ara’s safe,” Salman said. “Just in case something happened to her. I never dreamed...” She looked down at her shaky hand. “It was surprisingly easy to tell everyone I was going to bed early. I’m an old lady who had just lost a major election.”

“You gave most of your guards the evening off,” Kendi recalled. “Not because you no longer needed the security but because you needed the chance to sneak out of the house.”

“Yes.”

“Then what happened?” Ben asked.

“I went over to Sufur’s house with the pistol. He answered his own door, and I remember that surprised me. He didn’t look startled to see me or anything. He just invited me in and sat in that chair. I asked him why he did it, why he created the Despair. He told me that humans are filthy and disgusting and that he wanted to stop us from killing each other. He looked so smug and righteous, sitting in that stupid easy chair, calmly explaining why he murdered my little girl. So I shot him. That surprised him, I could tell. He choked and clawed at the air, and I smelled his bladder let go. Then he died and I left. That was it.”

Ben leaned forward. “Did it make you feel better?” he asked earnestly.

“I don’t know,” Salman whispered. “I’m still adjusting to the idea that I killed him.” She paused. “Actually, that wasn’t all that happened. Just before Sufur died, he looked at me and I...I swear he whispered something.”

“What?” Kendi asked.

“I think...I think he said...thank you. It was the last thing I expected to hear, and I’m still not sure I heard him right.”

“Thank you,” Ben repeated softly.

“Are you going to turn me in?” Salman asked. “I suppose I’ll understand if you do.”

“I think I speak for both us when I say no,” Kendi told her. “It’s pretty clear to me that the only way to stop Sufur from hatching more...plans was to kill him. Someone had to do it. Why not you?”

“What about the police?” Ben said. “They did a DN” check to catch Petrie. Won’t they catch you?”

“Ched-Pirasku isn’t eager to let the world know that Sufur funded his campaign,” Salman said. “I let him know that investigations often uncover certain sordid secrets, and he said that budgets will probably be too tight for the police to afford a DN” scan. Sufur Silenced Ched-Pirasku, too, so I’m not worried about the police.”

Footsteps tromped down the stairs and toward the living room. Salman tucked her hands under her thighs as Lucia came into the room.

“The babies are fussy,” she reported. “I think they want their daddies to say good night.”

“Duty calls,” Ben said with a paternal smile. Kendi grinned and followed him upstairs to rock their children to sleep, leaving Salman and the broken plate behind.

                                                                             

“I figured it out.”

Ben rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow so he could look down at Kendi’s furry face. “You figured out what?”

“What was bothering me about Sufur,” Koala Kendi said. His eyes were wide and brown, and they reflected the stars. “That plan of his never had a chance, you know.”

“Go on.”

“There were thousands and thousands of human Silent before the Despair,” Kendi explained. “Even now there are hundreds and hundreds. We have a lot here on Bellerophon, and Silent Acquisitions has a lot on their station, but even both groups together don’t have anywhere near most of them.  Not only that, Sufur was using only two operatives. He couldn’t possibly have rounded up all the human Silent on Bellerophon with just Peg and Boomer. It would have taken decades to get everyone, and he still wouldn’t have eliminated all human Silent from the Dream. Not with more Silent humans being born every moment.”

“Huh.” Ben lay back down. The sand beneath him was pleasantly warm, and gentle sea water lapped at his bare toes. Overhead, the moonless sky showed thousands of stars—milky diamonds pinned to black velvet. Even as Ben watched, another star flickered into existence, faded, then glimmered strong and bright alongside the others. “Maybe he was just crazy.”

“It also didn’t make sense for Sufur to come to Bellerophon in the first place,” Kendi continued. It looked rather odd, a koala bear on a tropical beach, but Ben liked the effect. The out-of-place was Kendi through and through. “Sufur could have overseen the whole thing from the ship or even from S” Station. It made no sense for him to come to a planet where just about everyone would want him dead.”

Another star burst into being, shining more brightly than its fellows for a moment before fading into normal radiance. “So why did he come?” Ben asked. “I have the feeling you’ve got a theory.”

“Sort of.” Kendi scratched an ear with quick, fluttering movements. “It goes back to what Grandma told us Sufur said before he died.”

“He said thank you,” Ben said. “What does—oh. Oh!”

“Yeah.”

A little wave, more ambitious than the rest, rushed up the beach and wet Ben’s calves, licking them like a warm tongue. Ben remained silent for a while, then said, “So you think Sufur wanted to die.”

“It fits,” Kendi said. “He may not have even realized he was doing it, but Sufur set himself up to be killed. Putting together an impossible plan, living in a house in a neighborhood where someone was bound to see him, inviting people like us and Grandma into his home. And remember the way he talked to us? What he said? Pretty clear that he hated himself because he was a filthy human. I think he wanted to die but didn’t have the courage—or maybe the cowardice—to kill himself. So put himself in a position where someone else would do it for him. And if he took a bunch of Silent with him in the process, so much the better.”

Two more stars slipped into the sky like shy children joining a party of adults. Ben shook his head. “It makes a twisted sort of sense. I guess we’ll never know for sure.”

Another long pause. Then Kendi said, “How do you feel about Grandma killing Sufur?”

Ben thought. “I’m glad Sufur is dead. Killing him didn’t bring Mom back—I never thought it would—but now we know that he won’t hurt anyone else. I guess I feel...relieved. Grandma got rid of him, so I don’t have to worry about...about wanting to break my promise to you.”

“Would you have broken it?”

“No. I would have worked hard to make you release me from it.” Ben sighed. “Actually I’m kind of disappointed. Harenn was right—now that Sufur’s dead, he’s not suffering. If we’d kept him alive, we could have made him miserable.”

“I think he was already pretty miserable,” Kendi said. “A happy person wouldn’t do the things he did.”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Ben said. “We were supposed to come in here to relax.”

A flicker of light heralded yet another star that joined the others. Ben lay there in silence next to Kendi, just enjoying the quiet beach, the night sky, and being with Kendi. He wondered how long it would be before Evan, Ara, and their other eventual children would join them in the Dream and what that would be like. Would Ara continue to be boisterous and loud like her Da? Would Evan be quiet and reserved like his Dad? Or would they change as they grew older?

“What are you thinking about?” Kendi asked.

“The babies,” Ben admitted.

Kendi laughed. “So was I. So much for getting away from them for a while.” He sat up and gave Ben a koala kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Ben Rymar.”

Three stars popped into the sky like popcorn kernels. Ben grinned at Kendi. “I never thought I’d say it to a koala bear, but I love you, too.”

They lay back again, staring up at the sky to watch as, one by one, new Silent entered the Dream.