[STORY] Best Served Cold (Complete with Epilogue)
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Arcturas
- Posts: 322
- Joined: Mon, 26. Jun 06, 02:27
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The Zig
- Posts: 458
- Joined: Mon, 1. Mar 04, 22:59
Hey!
Just read up to date. Good work.
I like the real development of the main character, his growth and change. His moments of redemption and collapse, and his attempts to get a grip. I also like the little nods towards... ahm... quirks in the game.
And yes, Novas are an EVIL ship to fight against in anything with less shielding! That rear turret... they can be an expensive ship to fight. And compared to the capping-for-dummies Falcon with it's big bulls-eye exhasts...
And thanks for the interesting side story in my old incredibly short stories thread!
Just read up to date. Good work.
I like the real development of the main character, his growth and change. His moments of redemption and collapse, and his attempts to get a grip. I also like the little nods towards... ahm... quirks in the game.
And yes, Novas are an EVIL ship to fight against in anything with less shielding! That rear turret... they can be an expensive ship to fight. And compared to the capping-for-dummies Falcon with it's big bulls-eye exhasts...
And thanks for the interesting side story in my old incredibly short stories thread!
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gsheriston
- Posts: 351
- Joined: Mon, 9. Feb 04, 22:21
Guys, gals, Lar, anyone who's reading - I apologise for having not updated for weeks. Feeling kind of stuck with the story right now... It's a difficult chapter to write, poor guy is about to go through something I've thankfully not experienced yet, a funeral for immediate family. I have started, it's just not flowing as easily as the rest and it feels disjointed to read, even to me. Could be a while yet 
There's a lot yet still to happen, and I'm not giving up; just hit a slightly more pot-holed road, that's all. One of the pitfalls with a first-person voice is that I can't easily just skip or describe important events... Scott has to live them.
As always, thanks for your patience and support so far. It really means a lot to me. Any pointers or suggestions on where to look for inspiration would be gratefully received right about now!
Oh, and Zig - I now have Moby Dick as an e-book. Haven't started on it yet, but I will
There's a lot yet still to happen, and I'm not giving up; just hit a slightly more pot-holed road, that's all. One of the pitfalls with a first-person voice is that I can't easily just skip or describe important events... Scott has to live them.As always, thanks for your patience and support so far. It really means a lot to me. Any pointers or suggestions on where to look for inspiration would be gratefully received right about now!
Oh, and Zig - I now have Moby Dick as an e-book. Haven't started on it yet, but I will
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Mortis494
- Posts: 180
- Joined: Fri, 26. Mar 04, 10:46
Fantastic Stuff!
I love the creative side so many X-players express and the character depth you've created is fantastic - not much of a writer myself but I'd consider running the funeral service as a flashback, intersperse it with a heavy combat situation setting a mix of action (cliffhanger moments) as Danna believes his life is about to end, with the calm enviroment, but deep emotions of the service. It may help keep the 'flow' of the story.
Keep it coming!
I love the creative side so many X-players express and the character depth you've created is fantastic - not much of a writer myself but I'd consider running the funeral service as a flashback, intersperse it with a heavy combat situation setting a mix of action (cliffhanger moments) as Danna believes his life is about to end, with the calm enviroment, but deep emotions of the service. It may help keep the 'flow' of the story.
Keep it coming!
Wanton Nukes and the Path to Galactic Conquest - Pilot of the 'Last Resort'
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gsheriston
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- Joined: Mon, 9. Feb 04, 22:21
Thanks for your input (and encouragement!) Mortis - I really like that idea of flashbacks to the funeral under heavy stress, so don't be too surprised if that turns up later on... If it does, then you can feel quietly satisfied that it was your idea (and it means you'll keep reading, if only to see if/when it happensMortis494 wrote: I'd consider running the funeral service as a flashback, intersperse it with a heavy combat situation setting a mix of action (cliffhanger moments) as Danna believes his life is about to end, with the calm enviroment, but deep emotions of the service.
) However, in order to flash back to it, I think I have to describe quite a lot of the scene first so people recognise it. I've kinda done similar things already, by picking out lines of speech (usually Cora's) in places; I'm thinking back to when Scott first decides to pull the trigger on the Harrier Raider now known as Nonny Mouse as the prime example.Once the funeral is done, I think it will be time to pick up the pace. It's a big ol' galaxy, and none of it likes him much...
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Trigger1112
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gsheriston
- Posts: 351
- Joined: Mon, 9. Feb 04, 22:21
Best Served Cold
Part Sixteen - Memories from the Edge of Disaster
I’ve been back planetside for a wozura now, and it’s starting to feel like home again. Little things like the gravity, it’s a bit stronger here than you find on most stations and it takes a couple of tazuras to get used to it. Days. I’m planetside, it’s days again. Casually throwing things into a recycler from across the room is an exercise in frustration because they land maybe half a meter short for those first couple of days. Little things like that, and climbing stairs... Oh, Lords – climbing stairs! I’ve never been a really sporty person but I can usually manage staircases. Here, after the first two flights I’m a little short of breath where on a station it would be three or four. It feels a bit strange staying in a hotel less than 10km from where we used to live, too.
Visiting the hospital Chapel was a strange experience. The chaplain there was very supportive; she did understand my predicament, though it was very unusual. After all, in the hospital they’re used to the end of life, but usually there’s a very definite body to be the focus of the ceremony be it cremation, burial or the increasingly popular formation of a diamond. I don’t have anything. All the possessions we had that we wanted to keep had been shipped to Light of Heart to board the Mammoth along with the station. Doing that without letting the kids in on it was a trick and a half, let me tell you. The chaplain, a serious lady who almost seemed too young for the role, said that she would still be happy to deliver a service for them though. A memorial stone could be erected for each of them, or for all of them – my choice. I figured that there was no point in separating them by individual stones, I wouldn’t ever want to come along and only remember one of them. And, they had all died together. Let them be remembered together. The inscription would read “Beloved Cora, Bethany, Steven and Alison Danna. Taken from us 4.2.1.792. The stars are dimmed forever by your loss.” The large glossy-black stone will be laser-engraved, then the words picked out in a fine industrial diamond paste- reflective and permanent. In a couple of days’ time, I’ll visit the hologram editor and see what she’s been able to do with the ‘grams I was able to give her from our holiday- she said she could probably extract all four of them from various images then synthesise an appropriate setting. We’ll see.
Walking into the Antigone Memorial Centre was a very tough time for me. Though, Daniel’s face was something of a picture when he recognised me. “Scott!! What are you doing here? How’s Cora? How is station life treating you all?” I’d been trying to keep my face fairly neutral, but now it was twisted into something almost mechanical. “That’s why I’m here, Dan. I need to talk to you. Is there anyone who can cover for you for about fifteen mizuras?” “Sure, I can get Val out here for that long. Just a sezura.” Dan hit an internal comms button on the desk between us and spoke briefly into the microphone. About a mizura later, a woman about my age bustled out of the office with a haughty expression. Val and I had crossed paths before, but not often or for long. “This is a surprise, Mr. Danna! Please, pass on my best wishes to Cora when you get home.” Cora had worked here for jazuras, she knew everybody and judging by the card and gifts she’d received when she left, she had been remarkably well-liked. I followed Dan into a small room often used for staff meetings; on occasion when she and I were first courting, I’d conspired with Dan to meet Cora in here if I was unexpectedly in-system, to surprise her. The room was sparsely furnished, just a few chairs around a large surface display which was replicated on the wall to the left of the door. Dan took a seat and I sat on the opposite side from him. I folded my arms onto the table and dropped my forehead onto them for a sezura. When I could summon the will to speak, I gave him the news.
“Oh, Dan. There’s no easy way to say this, I have to be fairly blunt. The TL Cora and the kids were on was attacked by Pirates in Brennan’s Triumph. The ship was destroyed, and from what I can gather there were no survivors.” The younger man sat in stunned silence for almost a mizura before he spoke again. “So how did you get out?” “I wasn’t there. I was in Cloudbase South West trying to get a jumpdrive to them, so they didn’t have to go through those sectors. I’d just jumped back into Brennan’s Triumph when the Mammoth was surrounded and destroyed. The TL Captain was supposed to wait for me in Light of Heart and jump from there, but he thought he’d make a bigger profit by saving a few e-cells along the way if he didn’t have to jump as far. That choice cost him- and me- everything. As well as my family, virtually every credit we had was tied up on that ship. The ultimate ‘all your eggs in one basket’ scenario.”
“Gods, Scott... What did you do?” “Um... Well, I sorta crawled into a bottle for a couple of wozuras. Got robbed while I was in there, too – whoever stole the jumpdrive busted up the ship pretty badly so I sold that and just started trading again. Decided I was going to take the fight to be futzers who hurt me, but I need better gear before I can do real damage. Spent some time in detention, some in rehab, some in a mental ward. It’s been rough, no doubt about it. I’ve even killed, in cold blood, a Pirate who’d given up their ship. Psychiatrist says I’ve still got serious issues, anger response is very high and while I might regret it later I’m still capable of disastrous things. I’m not the guy who used to sneak in here and take Cora away for the day any more. He died out in Brennan’s Triumph with her, and Beth, and Steve, and Alice. The ‘new me’ isn’t really all that likeable; or even stable.”
Dan looked distinctly nervous at that. I knew why, and I was going to let him sweat for a while. He deserved it. He was going to feel a lot worse by the time I left the planet again.
“Look, the main reason I’m here is to organise a memorial service for them. It will be held in the memorial gardens of the BalaShandra hospital, six days from now at 11:00 local time. I thought you and some of the staff might want to be there too. Cora wouldn’t have wanted flowers, she always thought them a complete waste at funeral services – ‘a transient memorial that means nothing to the person they’re supposed to be for. More for the vanity of the sender than anything else’, I think is how she put it once. She would rather the credits have gone to somewhere they could do some good. We both know what her favourite charity would be; we’re sitting in the main offices.” My patience was wearing thin. I couldn’t stay here much longer, there were too many feelings boiling up. It had taken a massive effort to be civil, but I’d managed it – I just didn’t know whether I could sustain it. “Once the service is over, I’m going to want to be alone. If you want to hold a wake for her here, then you’re welcome to do so – just don’t expect me to attend. Understood?” “Completely, Scott. Look, if there’s anything I can do to help-“ “No.” I cut him off, harshly. Patience was gone. If I didn’t leave, right now, something was going to break – possibly his nose, or my hand. I stood quickly, and reached the door in a couple of steps. Just before I opened it, I turned back to Dan whose face was now completely ashen. I think realisation was dawning, and he was looking just a little bit sick. Though it might be grief, I should give him that much credit. “Just remember. 11:00, six days from now. BalaShandra hospital memorial gardens.”
I don’t remember much of the walk back to my hotel. I know it didn’t take very long, though. When I got back to the room I spent a good two mizuras beating six shades of good-for-the-onybaras out of the mattress before I collapsed on it. I may be here for a memorial service, but these are not the kind of memories I want to be recalling now...
A couple of jazuras after we were married, Cora had about a mazura where she was a bit difficult to get hold of whenever I tried to wave her from half-way across the Galaxy. Working late a lot. After-work functions. When I could find her, she was distant, or nervous. I guess Dan was always there, when I couldn’t be. Friendly, funny, convivial Daniel. Young, charming, intelligent... and there. Not like her absent husband, who was out in some hot Split station haggling with a Family Chin representative to get a better deal on some Rastar oil while feeling like he was being rendered down for Argon oil himself. Maybe I should have stayed home, taken an office job somewhere – but I was no good at them. I tried, a couple of times – but I just couldn’t handle working to someone else’s schedule or orders- particularly conflicting or contradictory orders, and there were always plenty of those to go around.
Things came to a head when I got home early one trip back from Bluish Snout. I’d picked up a shipload of energy for next-to-nothing, so decided to eat into some of that bonus and jump straight to Antigone Memorial. I sold up for a still-healthy profit, took a planetary shuttle and a skimmer ride home feeling good about being there and looking forward to surprising Cora. Only, it was me on the receiving end. The house was empty, so I waved Cora and couldn’t reach her. Couldn’t find anything that indicated where she would be going, though it was clear she’d been here earlier. I guessed she was out; after all, I couldn’t expect her to just stay in every evening while I’m out of sector, she was maybe at a holo’ with friends or something which would explain not receiving a wave. You know how they are about always turning off your receivers, right? Everything was quiet, so I went up to bed and lay there dozing. Everything was quiet that is, ‘till about midnight local time when Cora and Dan burst into the hall downstairs giggling at each other. I lay there fuming for ten mizuras listening to bouts of giggling alternating with long, awful, soul-twisting, imagination-haunting silences. I didn’t dare go down, the state I was in I’d have done something violent that I would then regret. I dressed, silently, and sat back down on the bed. I heard the outer door open and close, then Cora’s footsteps on the stairs. I didn’t know whether to be angry, sad, horrified, resigned, regretful – after all, I was away an awful lot. The bedroom door opened, and Cora stepped into the dark room.
“I hope you let him out. If he's behind you, this will get very nasty.”
There was a sharp intake of breath. “Scott, I...” “Don’t. Just... don’t. Right now, I don’t know what to think. I’ve got so much adrenaline pumping around me I’m probably sweating the stuff. I don’t want to hear how it’s not what it sounded like, how it’s nothing, you’re just friends, I’m never here, it didn’t mean anything, nothing happened... I’ll be downstairs, we’ll talk about this in the morning. Clearly we have problems of one sort or another.”
I’ve never had a night or a morning like it. Sleep was out of the question of course, and it was just a distant memory for about three days afterwards. The morning was agonizing, both of us regretting things we’d done – Cora with Dan, and me for being away so damned often and for so long. Turns out they hadn’t been that close for very long, that she’d felt guilty, tried to fight off her feelings but ultimately succumbed just a little in the couple of wozuras before I surprised her. After the shouting and the tears had died down a couple of tazuras later, I had to ask a very simple question – the basic one, the question that everything else hinged on. Trouble is, with a question like that you have to be prepared for the answer, whatever it is.
“Do you want us to stay married?” I had to ask it softly. It wasn’t supposed to be an ultimatum, it was supposed to be a genuine question.
She couldn’t hold eye-contact. Her head dropped into her hands, fingers splayed back into her long gold-blonde hair. If my asking the question had been soft, her answer was almost inaudible.
“Not like this, Scott. Not like this.” Her voice shook, tears evident in each word, but each one also got a little stronger. “Are we really married anyway? I see you maybe two days in ten. The rest of the time, you’re away in some distant sector. I married you because I love you. And because I thought you loved me. I married you because I didn’t want to be away from you, because I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together. I don’t know how you can stay away so much, because it hurts me when you’re not here. You arrive, then two days later you’re gone again off to Gods know where and if I’m lucky I get a wave most days to let me know you haven’t been shot down or boarded. Maybe I should be asking you if you want to stay married?” By now her voice was loud, clear and ringing. Tears were banished. Her face was out of her hands and her eyes flashed.
“Yes, I’ve done stupid things that I regret. I can’t take them back, but I can stop them happening again. Can you be here whenever I want you? Can I have my husband back? Or are you really married to that futzing Mercury at the orbital dock? What about starting a family? We said we wanted to- are you backing away from that now? Being away 80% of the time is no way to raise one. Hells, it would be difficult to even start one with you because we’d have to spend some serious time together and right now I’m so angry I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
“You’re angry?!” We were both standing now, just about an arm’s length apart. We could both feel venom from the other. “I just discovered you were on the verge of an affair, Cora! I’m away because I have to be, not because I want to be. Starting a family is expensive. We need me to trade. I don’t have to like it, but I have to do it.”
“When, Scott? When will you have enough for us? How much is enough? Do you have a fixed sum in mind? A plan of how to get there? You’re just running away from it. From me. Nothing more. You want to prove me wrong? Work with me. Start right now. We’ll look at costs, you can tell me about your profits and likely returns on investment, we start looking at how much you’re making and how soon we can make that figure meet the costs. Only, I’m going to make it more difficult for you. You don’t stay away more than two nights, no matter how much the jumpdrive fuel costs. I’ll make exceptions under unusual circumstances, I’m not completely unreasonable; but if we’re going to start a family I damn well need you very close a lot more than you are now.”
And that’s how it started. It undoubtedly saved our marriage, no matter how painful it was at the time. She was right, it wasn’t a marriage unless we were together. And I had been trading fairly aimlessly. Successfully, on the whole – but without much of a purpose. Cora gave me a reason. In the end, she gave me three. Then all of them were gone.
In six days, I would have to finally face and accept that fact, and hope it didn't break me. Six days to prepare myself, or be swept away. I could use a drink...
Part Sixteen - Memories from the Edge of Disaster
I’ve been back planetside for a wozura now, and it’s starting to feel like home again. Little things like the gravity, it’s a bit stronger here than you find on most stations and it takes a couple of tazuras to get used to it. Days. I’m planetside, it’s days again. Casually throwing things into a recycler from across the room is an exercise in frustration because they land maybe half a meter short for those first couple of days. Little things like that, and climbing stairs... Oh, Lords – climbing stairs! I’ve never been a really sporty person but I can usually manage staircases. Here, after the first two flights I’m a little short of breath where on a station it would be three or four. It feels a bit strange staying in a hotel less than 10km from where we used to live, too.
Visiting the hospital Chapel was a strange experience. The chaplain there was very supportive; she did understand my predicament, though it was very unusual. After all, in the hospital they’re used to the end of life, but usually there’s a very definite body to be the focus of the ceremony be it cremation, burial or the increasingly popular formation of a diamond. I don’t have anything. All the possessions we had that we wanted to keep had been shipped to Light of Heart to board the Mammoth along with the station. Doing that without letting the kids in on it was a trick and a half, let me tell you. The chaplain, a serious lady who almost seemed too young for the role, said that she would still be happy to deliver a service for them though. A memorial stone could be erected for each of them, or for all of them – my choice. I figured that there was no point in separating them by individual stones, I wouldn’t ever want to come along and only remember one of them. And, they had all died together. Let them be remembered together. The inscription would read “Beloved Cora, Bethany, Steven and Alison Danna. Taken from us 4.2.1.792. The stars are dimmed forever by your loss.” The large glossy-black stone will be laser-engraved, then the words picked out in a fine industrial diamond paste- reflective and permanent. In a couple of days’ time, I’ll visit the hologram editor and see what she’s been able to do with the ‘grams I was able to give her from our holiday- she said she could probably extract all four of them from various images then synthesise an appropriate setting. We’ll see.
Walking into the Antigone Memorial Centre was a very tough time for me. Though, Daniel’s face was something of a picture when he recognised me. “Scott!! What are you doing here? How’s Cora? How is station life treating you all?” I’d been trying to keep my face fairly neutral, but now it was twisted into something almost mechanical. “That’s why I’m here, Dan. I need to talk to you. Is there anyone who can cover for you for about fifteen mizuras?” “Sure, I can get Val out here for that long. Just a sezura.” Dan hit an internal comms button on the desk between us and spoke briefly into the microphone. About a mizura later, a woman about my age bustled out of the office with a haughty expression. Val and I had crossed paths before, but not often or for long. “This is a surprise, Mr. Danna! Please, pass on my best wishes to Cora when you get home.” Cora had worked here for jazuras, she knew everybody and judging by the card and gifts she’d received when she left, she had been remarkably well-liked. I followed Dan into a small room often used for staff meetings; on occasion when she and I were first courting, I’d conspired with Dan to meet Cora in here if I was unexpectedly in-system, to surprise her. The room was sparsely furnished, just a few chairs around a large surface display which was replicated on the wall to the left of the door. Dan took a seat and I sat on the opposite side from him. I folded my arms onto the table and dropped my forehead onto them for a sezura. When I could summon the will to speak, I gave him the news.
“Oh, Dan. There’s no easy way to say this, I have to be fairly blunt. The TL Cora and the kids were on was attacked by Pirates in Brennan’s Triumph. The ship was destroyed, and from what I can gather there were no survivors.” The younger man sat in stunned silence for almost a mizura before he spoke again. “So how did you get out?” “I wasn’t there. I was in Cloudbase South West trying to get a jumpdrive to them, so they didn’t have to go through those sectors. I’d just jumped back into Brennan’s Triumph when the Mammoth was surrounded and destroyed. The TL Captain was supposed to wait for me in Light of Heart and jump from there, but he thought he’d make a bigger profit by saving a few e-cells along the way if he didn’t have to jump as far. That choice cost him- and me- everything. As well as my family, virtually every credit we had was tied up on that ship. The ultimate ‘all your eggs in one basket’ scenario.”
“Gods, Scott... What did you do?” “Um... Well, I sorta crawled into a bottle for a couple of wozuras. Got robbed while I was in there, too – whoever stole the jumpdrive busted up the ship pretty badly so I sold that and just started trading again. Decided I was going to take the fight to be futzers who hurt me, but I need better gear before I can do real damage. Spent some time in detention, some in rehab, some in a mental ward. It’s been rough, no doubt about it. I’ve even killed, in cold blood, a Pirate who’d given up their ship. Psychiatrist says I’ve still got serious issues, anger response is very high and while I might regret it later I’m still capable of disastrous things. I’m not the guy who used to sneak in here and take Cora away for the day any more. He died out in Brennan’s Triumph with her, and Beth, and Steve, and Alice. The ‘new me’ isn’t really all that likeable; or even stable.”
Dan looked distinctly nervous at that. I knew why, and I was going to let him sweat for a while. He deserved it. He was going to feel a lot worse by the time I left the planet again.
“Look, the main reason I’m here is to organise a memorial service for them. It will be held in the memorial gardens of the BalaShandra hospital, six days from now at 11:00 local time. I thought you and some of the staff might want to be there too. Cora wouldn’t have wanted flowers, she always thought them a complete waste at funeral services – ‘a transient memorial that means nothing to the person they’re supposed to be for. More for the vanity of the sender than anything else’, I think is how she put it once. She would rather the credits have gone to somewhere they could do some good. We both know what her favourite charity would be; we’re sitting in the main offices.” My patience was wearing thin. I couldn’t stay here much longer, there were too many feelings boiling up. It had taken a massive effort to be civil, but I’d managed it – I just didn’t know whether I could sustain it. “Once the service is over, I’m going to want to be alone. If you want to hold a wake for her here, then you’re welcome to do so – just don’t expect me to attend. Understood?” “Completely, Scott. Look, if there’s anything I can do to help-“ “No.” I cut him off, harshly. Patience was gone. If I didn’t leave, right now, something was going to break – possibly his nose, or my hand. I stood quickly, and reached the door in a couple of steps. Just before I opened it, I turned back to Dan whose face was now completely ashen. I think realisation was dawning, and he was looking just a little bit sick. Though it might be grief, I should give him that much credit. “Just remember. 11:00, six days from now. BalaShandra hospital memorial gardens.”
I don’t remember much of the walk back to my hotel. I know it didn’t take very long, though. When I got back to the room I spent a good two mizuras beating six shades of good-for-the-onybaras out of the mattress before I collapsed on it. I may be here for a memorial service, but these are not the kind of memories I want to be recalling now...
A couple of jazuras after we were married, Cora had about a mazura where she was a bit difficult to get hold of whenever I tried to wave her from half-way across the Galaxy. Working late a lot. After-work functions. When I could find her, she was distant, or nervous. I guess Dan was always there, when I couldn’t be. Friendly, funny, convivial Daniel. Young, charming, intelligent... and there. Not like her absent husband, who was out in some hot Split station haggling with a Family Chin representative to get a better deal on some Rastar oil while feeling like he was being rendered down for Argon oil himself. Maybe I should have stayed home, taken an office job somewhere – but I was no good at them. I tried, a couple of times – but I just couldn’t handle working to someone else’s schedule or orders- particularly conflicting or contradictory orders, and there were always plenty of those to go around.
Things came to a head when I got home early one trip back from Bluish Snout. I’d picked up a shipload of energy for next-to-nothing, so decided to eat into some of that bonus and jump straight to Antigone Memorial. I sold up for a still-healthy profit, took a planetary shuttle and a skimmer ride home feeling good about being there and looking forward to surprising Cora. Only, it was me on the receiving end. The house was empty, so I waved Cora and couldn’t reach her. Couldn’t find anything that indicated where she would be going, though it was clear she’d been here earlier. I guessed she was out; after all, I couldn’t expect her to just stay in every evening while I’m out of sector, she was maybe at a holo’ with friends or something which would explain not receiving a wave. You know how they are about always turning off your receivers, right? Everything was quiet, so I went up to bed and lay there dozing. Everything was quiet that is, ‘till about midnight local time when Cora and Dan burst into the hall downstairs giggling at each other. I lay there fuming for ten mizuras listening to bouts of giggling alternating with long, awful, soul-twisting, imagination-haunting silences. I didn’t dare go down, the state I was in I’d have done something violent that I would then regret. I dressed, silently, and sat back down on the bed. I heard the outer door open and close, then Cora’s footsteps on the stairs. I didn’t know whether to be angry, sad, horrified, resigned, regretful – after all, I was away an awful lot. The bedroom door opened, and Cora stepped into the dark room.
“I hope you let him out. If he's behind you, this will get very nasty.”
There was a sharp intake of breath. “Scott, I...” “Don’t. Just... don’t. Right now, I don’t know what to think. I’ve got so much adrenaline pumping around me I’m probably sweating the stuff. I don’t want to hear how it’s not what it sounded like, how it’s nothing, you’re just friends, I’m never here, it didn’t mean anything, nothing happened... I’ll be downstairs, we’ll talk about this in the morning. Clearly we have problems of one sort or another.”
I’ve never had a night or a morning like it. Sleep was out of the question of course, and it was just a distant memory for about three days afterwards. The morning was agonizing, both of us regretting things we’d done – Cora with Dan, and me for being away so damned often and for so long. Turns out they hadn’t been that close for very long, that she’d felt guilty, tried to fight off her feelings but ultimately succumbed just a little in the couple of wozuras before I surprised her. After the shouting and the tears had died down a couple of tazuras later, I had to ask a very simple question – the basic one, the question that everything else hinged on. Trouble is, with a question like that you have to be prepared for the answer, whatever it is.
“Do you want us to stay married?” I had to ask it softly. It wasn’t supposed to be an ultimatum, it was supposed to be a genuine question.
She couldn’t hold eye-contact. Her head dropped into her hands, fingers splayed back into her long gold-blonde hair. If my asking the question had been soft, her answer was almost inaudible.
“Not like this, Scott. Not like this.” Her voice shook, tears evident in each word, but each one also got a little stronger. “Are we really married anyway? I see you maybe two days in ten. The rest of the time, you’re away in some distant sector. I married you because I love you. And because I thought you loved me. I married you because I didn’t want to be away from you, because I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together. I don’t know how you can stay away so much, because it hurts me when you’re not here. You arrive, then two days later you’re gone again off to Gods know where and if I’m lucky I get a wave most days to let me know you haven’t been shot down or boarded. Maybe I should be asking you if you want to stay married?” By now her voice was loud, clear and ringing. Tears were banished. Her face was out of her hands and her eyes flashed.
“Yes, I’ve done stupid things that I regret. I can’t take them back, but I can stop them happening again. Can you be here whenever I want you? Can I have my husband back? Or are you really married to that futzing Mercury at the orbital dock? What about starting a family? We said we wanted to- are you backing away from that now? Being away 80% of the time is no way to raise one. Hells, it would be difficult to even start one with you because we’d have to spend some serious time together and right now I’m so angry I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
“You’re angry?!” We were both standing now, just about an arm’s length apart. We could both feel venom from the other. “I just discovered you were on the verge of an affair, Cora! I’m away because I have to be, not because I want to be. Starting a family is expensive. We need me to trade. I don’t have to like it, but I have to do it.”
“When, Scott? When will you have enough for us? How much is enough? Do you have a fixed sum in mind? A plan of how to get there? You’re just running away from it. From me. Nothing more. You want to prove me wrong? Work with me. Start right now. We’ll look at costs, you can tell me about your profits and likely returns on investment, we start looking at how much you’re making and how soon we can make that figure meet the costs. Only, I’m going to make it more difficult for you. You don’t stay away more than two nights, no matter how much the jumpdrive fuel costs. I’ll make exceptions under unusual circumstances, I’m not completely unreasonable; but if we’re going to start a family I damn well need you very close a lot more than you are now.”
And that’s how it started. It undoubtedly saved our marriage, no matter how painful it was at the time. She was right, it wasn’t a marriage unless we were together. And I had been trading fairly aimlessly. Successfully, on the whole – but without much of a purpose. Cora gave me a reason. In the end, she gave me three. Then all of them were gone.
In six days, I would have to finally face and accept that fact, and hope it didn't break me. Six days to prepare myself, or be swept away. I could use a drink...
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ghostrider
- Posts: 11
- Joined: Sat, 21. Jul 07, 20:20
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Trigger1112
- Posts: 102
- Joined: Thu, 20. Nov 08, 17:40
WOW! This is just amazing![ external image ]
Half-way through i had to remind myself that it isn't real.
IMO this is bestseller novel quality![ external image ]
Half-way through i had to remind myself that it isn't real.
IMO this is bestseller novel quality![ external image ]
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gsheriston
- Posts: 351
- Joined: Mon, 9. Feb 04, 22:21
Fellow Creative Universe denizens, I'm truly touched by the lovely things you say about this story. It's weird - as much as people have said they can't wait to read the next chapter, I have to say I can't wait to write it either... So here it is. I have to try a bit harder than usual for the next part though, so it might take a while. In the meantime...
Best Served Cold
Part Seventeen - Preparation
I can’t risk going back to the Antigone Memorial Centre again. I’m not sure I’d manage to maintain that level of control a second time. Even though many jazuras have passed since the near-affair, the urge to do something serious and potentially permanent to young Daniel might overpower me. However, I’ve passed on the messages I wanted to- both to him and to the staff, I hope. If he has any sense at all, he’ll steer well clear of me at the service. I’d prefer it if he wasn’t there at all, really – but I can’t control who turns up, especially now I’ve invited the Centre staff. If he’s really smart, he’ll offer to provide cover so others can go. We’ll see.
Good news is that the holo editor has managed to do as she said she would, and has a new hologram for me. It’s about the length of my forearm, and almost as wide. Cora and Beth stand shoulder-to-shoulder, Beth a little shorter than her mother. Cora has Alice in her right arm, and Steve stands in front of them with Beth’s hand on his left shoulder. They’re in holiday clothes- all the holos I had were from Light of Heart. There’s no real background to detract from the portrait, just a distant, dark mottled shade of sunlit greenery to fit with their bright clothing and smiles. It’s really well done, I can picture the holos where most of the information has come from, but it’s clear that there’s some technical wizardry going on too because there are at least four holos that I recognise and the background isn’t in any of them. I’m curious, so I ask her about it.
The young woman draws her hand across her forehead, tucking the dyed-lavender hair behind her ear and smiling broadly. It’s clear she takes pride in her work, and with good reason.
“Well, it’s becoming pretty standard now – we scan each source hologram from as wide an angle as it allows, and isolate the individual elements. Really, that’s the technical part – the isolation of objects, collating the information on each object from multiple sources. The computers then build up the 3D models of those objects from the composites in each hologram. Based on templates, we mark where and how those models can be articulated on the computer. That’s when the artistic part begins – because then we can arrange and pose those models pretty much however we like in any setting we choose. Once we’ve done that, we can generate a new hologram direct from the modelling computer that is sharper, clearer and higher resolution than any commercial capture device. It helps when you have large, high-quality sources to work with; yours were pretty good.”
“It’s an amazing work of art, I just wish I could show it to them.” I could feel my breath catching in my throat. I didn’t have long left before I’d be incomprehensible, if I couldn’t steady myself. “Could you... Could you produce a second, smaller copy of that? I’d like to carry one with me.”
“I already have, Mr. Danna. There’s a small-format copy in the pack of your original holos, courtesy of your artist here at Tru-Life.” She smiled again, and took a little bow. “Actually, it was a test-render of the final image; usually they’re destroyed but I thought you might like to keep it- so I rescued it for you.” “Thank you, that’s very kind.” I was getting quite tight in the throat by now, mostly with the urge to cry, but now there was gratitude in there too, gratitude to this elfin young woman probably half my age who had given me my family back in the only form that was possible, and thought of me too. It was very touching, at a time when I felt so desperately alone.
Have you ever been back to a house where you used to live? It’s a strange sensation, walking back up that path and activating what used to be my call button. When it’s answered, I can hear a child crying in the background. A woman speaks. “Hello?” “Hello, Ms. Darrian? It’s Scott Danna - Cora’s husband. Could I speak with you?” “Of course, Scott. I’ll be there in a sezura.”
The door opens, and Vanessa smiles quite broadly – the source of the crying is hiding behind her, a young boy about half Alice’s age, whose name I can’t remember. “What brings you here, Scott? I thought you’d be on station by now, raking in plenty!” I was going to have to explain it all again... The doorstep isn’t really the place. We went inside, and over a hot drink I told her what had happened.
I lowered the kharve mug, staring deep into it before I spoke again. “The service is tomorrow, and I’d like to place some flowers by the stone. Cora really loved the Onybara bush out at the back of the garden, and I wondered if it’s still there – and whether you’d let me take a couple of blooms from it, if it is?” In the mazura leading up to the exchange, Vanessa and Cora had struck up a good relationship. Her friend was close to tears again, having shed a few already. “Of course, Scott. Of course. We can go and cut them now if you like, but it might be better to take them early tomorrow morning. They’ll be fresher. If you can get here around 10:00, I’ll take you up to the Hospital myself- that is, if you don’t mind me being there? I’ll let Marek know too, I don’t know if he’ll be able to get time away at short notice, but he’ll try.” “Of course I don’t mind – I would be honoured if you could be there, either or both of you. Cora would have wanted you there, I promise you that.”
After a short trip up to see the Onybaras and look for likely candidates, I said my farewells to Vanessa and little Rik (that was his name!) and promised to be there at 10:00 the following day.
For the rest of the day I wandered the streets of Panathora, the city of the BalaShandra district- most of it was a blur, I was out only so that I didn’t sit in the hotel room and potentially succumb to the bar; but I did have one task– a new suit for the service. It’s an intimidating process, the first time you go through computer tailoring. You wear a second-skin-tight dot-patterned undersuit which is then scanned to produce a hologram. Once that’s done, an obsequious older gentleman (who wrings his hands and says ‘Mmmm’ a lot) shows you a book of material samples, accompanying each one with comments about how it will hang, and move, and stretch with you, calling up an example of how it will look on your hologram. It’s very clever, and very simple- but a bit daunting. It feels like a very old-fashioned process, despite using the most modern technology. Once your material and style are chosen, it takes about 90 mizuras to produce the suit. The material is laser-cut to your size, then bonded together. Some will even invite you to stay and watch if you like, and for the record the tailors on the corner of Third and Saville – Greens Gentleman’s Garments– do a mean Kharve as part of the service. They know it’s going to fit – but they still insist you try the suit on before you leave. And I’ll admit, it looks good. Certainly should, considering the price.
As evening draws in, I hail a skimmer and head back to my hotel. It’s going to be a long night, but I’ve had the forethought to speak with the bar staff ahead of it and insist that they are not to serve me any form of alcohol. I will have a clear head for the morning.
Said morning arrives far sooner than I had expected. I don’t know how, but I had managed to sleep soundly all through the night. The day was bright and clear, blue skies dotted with wispy clouds and plenty of sunshine. An optimist’s morning. It didn’t seem right, somehow, but it still made me feel better. Not better enough to eat, though. We all loved mornings like this. Cora and I would have been walking out in the park – ironically, towards the hospital – each of us taking one of Alice’s hands and lifting her on a count of three as she jumped high into the air, giggling. Steve would run on ahead a little, burning off energy- Beth would probably have stayed home and sat in the sun with a chilled mint tea listening to the ever-present media player or waving her friends; probably both. I’d contacted the parents of Beth’s closest friends; some of them would be in attendance today. I’d also spoken to the head of the children’s schools, and they would make announcements this morning.
Dressed, and as ready as I could ever be, my skimmer arrived and I went to the Darrian’s house to cut flowers. The dark crimson blooms have a rich colour and a strong, heady smell. Cora always said that those flowers were nature’s analogy for love- soft, beautiful, and delicate, but rich, deep and powerful. They were a major component of her favourite perfume. What else could I possibly lay at her memorial? Not just any Onybaras, but those she had tended and grown herself.
As Marek, Vanessa and I got into their skimmer for the short hop to the hospital, the sun ducked behind clouds as had been forecast. Those clouds were dark, and heavy. They didn’t threaten rain – they promised it.
Best Served Cold
Part Seventeen - Preparation
I can’t risk going back to the Antigone Memorial Centre again. I’m not sure I’d manage to maintain that level of control a second time. Even though many jazuras have passed since the near-affair, the urge to do something serious and potentially permanent to young Daniel might overpower me. However, I’ve passed on the messages I wanted to- both to him and to the staff, I hope. If he has any sense at all, he’ll steer well clear of me at the service. I’d prefer it if he wasn’t there at all, really – but I can’t control who turns up, especially now I’ve invited the Centre staff. If he’s really smart, he’ll offer to provide cover so others can go. We’ll see.
Good news is that the holo editor has managed to do as she said she would, and has a new hologram for me. It’s about the length of my forearm, and almost as wide. Cora and Beth stand shoulder-to-shoulder, Beth a little shorter than her mother. Cora has Alice in her right arm, and Steve stands in front of them with Beth’s hand on his left shoulder. They’re in holiday clothes- all the holos I had were from Light of Heart. There’s no real background to detract from the portrait, just a distant, dark mottled shade of sunlit greenery to fit with their bright clothing and smiles. It’s really well done, I can picture the holos where most of the information has come from, but it’s clear that there’s some technical wizardry going on too because there are at least four holos that I recognise and the background isn’t in any of them. I’m curious, so I ask her about it.
The young woman draws her hand across her forehead, tucking the dyed-lavender hair behind her ear and smiling broadly. It’s clear she takes pride in her work, and with good reason.
“Well, it’s becoming pretty standard now – we scan each source hologram from as wide an angle as it allows, and isolate the individual elements. Really, that’s the technical part – the isolation of objects, collating the information on each object from multiple sources. The computers then build up the 3D models of those objects from the composites in each hologram. Based on templates, we mark where and how those models can be articulated on the computer. That’s when the artistic part begins – because then we can arrange and pose those models pretty much however we like in any setting we choose. Once we’ve done that, we can generate a new hologram direct from the modelling computer that is sharper, clearer and higher resolution than any commercial capture device. It helps when you have large, high-quality sources to work with; yours were pretty good.”
“It’s an amazing work of art, I just wish I could show it to them.” I could feel my breath catching in my throat. I didn’t have long left before I’d be incomprehensible, if I couldn’t steady myself. “Could you... Could you produce a second, smaller copy of that? I’d like to carry one with me.”
“I already have, Mr. Danna. There’s a small-format copy in the pack of your original holos, courtesy of your artist here at Tru-Life.” She smiled again, and took a little bow. “Actually, it was a test-render of the final image; usually they’re destroyed but I thought you might like to keep it- so I rescued it for you.” “Thank you, that’s very kind.” I was getting quite tight in the throat by now, mostly with the urge to cry, but now there was gratitude in there too, gratitude to this elfin young woman probably half my age who had given me my family back in the only form that was possible, and thought of me too. It was very touching, at a time when I felt so desperately alone.
Have you ever been back to a house where you used to live? It’s a strange sensation, walking back up that path and activating what used to be my call button. When it’s answered, I can hear a child crying in the background. A woman speaks. “Hello?” “Hello, Ms. Darrian? It’s Scott Danna - Cora’s husband. Could I speak with you?” “Of course, Scott. I’ll be there in a sezura.”
The door opens, and Vanessa smiles quite broadly – the source of the crying is hiding behind her, a young boy about half Alice’s age, whose name I can’t remember. “What brings you here, Scott? I thought you’d be on station by now, raking in plenty!” I was going to have to explain it all again... The doorstep isn’t really the place. We went inside, and over a hot drink I told her what had happened.
I lowered the kharve mug, staring deep into it before I spoke again. “The service is tomorrow, and I’d like to place some flowers by the stone. Cora really loved the Onybara bush out at the back of the garden, and I wondered if it’s still there – and whether you’d let me take a couple of blooms from it, if it is?” In the mazura leading up to the exchange, Vanessa and Cora had struck up a good relationship. Her friend was close to tears again, having shed a few already. “Of course, Scott. Of course. We can go and cut them now if you like, but it might be better to take them early tomorrow morning. They’ll be fresher. If you can get here around 10:00, I’ll take you up to the Hospital myself- that is, if you don’t mind me being there? I’ll let Marek know too, I don’t know if he’ll be able to get time away at short notice, but he’ll try.” “Of course I don’t mind – I would be honoured if you could be there, either or both of you. Cora would have wanted you there, I promise you that.”
After a short trip up to see the Onybaras and look for likely candidates, I said my farewells to Vanessa and little Rik (that was his name!) and promised to be there at 10:00 the following day.
For the rest of the day I wandered the streets of Panathora, the city of the BalaShandra district- most of it was a blur, I was out only so that I didn’t sit in the hotel room and potentially succumb to the bar; but I did have one task– a new suit for the service. It’s an intimidating process, the first time you go through computer tailoring. You wear a second-skin-tight dot-patterned undersuit which is then scanned to produce a hologram. Once that’s done, an obsequious older gentleman (who wrings his hands and says ‘Mmmm’ a lot) shows you a book of material samples, accompanying each one with comments about how it will hang, and move, and stretch with you, calling up an example of how it will look on your hologram. It’s very clever, and very simple- but a bit daunting. It feels like a very old-fashioned process, despite using the most modern technology. Once your material and style are chosen, it takes about 90 mizuras to produce the suit. The material is laser-cut to your size, then bonded together. Some will even invite you to stay and watch if you like, and for the record the tailors on the corner of Third and Saville – Greens Gentleman’s Garments– do a mean Kharve as part of the service. They know it’s going to fit – but they still insist you try the suit on before you leave. And I’ll admit, it looks good. Certainly should, considering the price.
As evening draws in, I hail a skimmer and head back to my hotel. It’s going to be a long night, but I’ve had the forethought to speak with the bar staff ahead of it and insist that they are not to serve me any form of alcohol. I will have a clear head for the morning.
Said morning arrives far sooner than I had expected. I don’t know how, but I had managed to sleep soundly all through the night. The day was bright and clear, blue skies dotted with wispy clouds and plenty of sunshine. An optimist’s morning. It didn’t seem right, somehow, but it still made me feel better. Not better enough to eat, though. We all loved mornings like this. Cora and I would have been walking out in the park – ironically, towards the hospital – each of us taking one of Alice’s hands and lifting her on a count of three as she jumped high into the air, giggling. Steve would run on ahead a little, burning off energy- Beth would probably have stayed home and sat in the sun with a chilled mint tea listening to the ever-present media player or waving her friends; probably both. I’d contacted the parents of Beth’s closest friends; some of them would be in attendance today. I’d also spoken to the head of the children’s schools, and they would make announcements this morning.
Dressed, and as ready as I could ever be, my skimmer arrived and I went to the Darrian’s house to cut flowers. The dark crimson blooms have a rich colour and a strong, heady smell. Cora always said that those flowers were nature’s analogy for love- soft, beautiful, and delicate, but rich, deep and powerful. They were a major component of her favourite perfume. What else could I possibly lay at her memorial? Not just any Onybaras, but those she had tended and grown herself.
As Marek, Vanessa and I got into their skimmer for the short hop to the hospital, the sun ducked behind clouds as had been forecast. Those clouds were dark, and heavy. They didn’t threaten rain – they promised it.
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SOTS
- Posts: 420
- Joined: Sat, 25. Mar 06, 12:52
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gsheriston
- Posts: 351
- Joined: Mon, 9. Feb 04, 22:21
Folks, thanks for bearing with me while I took time to get to this part. I know it's been a long wait.
Best Served Cold
Part Eighteen - Remembrance
Outside the Memorial Chapel at the hospital, a few knots of people shuffled uncomfortably. The rain had started just mizuras before we arrived, and the various groups were trying to stay as dry as possible under the slightly overhanging roof. As I walked towards the doors, I felt numerous hands on my shoulders, and I’m sure I murmured thanks for attendance to various people but I couldn’t name any of them now if my life depended on it. My mind was very firmly elsewhere.
At the doors, I was greeted by Iona Selamin, the chaplain who still looked far too young to hold the position – but also projected, in her white ceremonial robes, a solemnity that belied her years. She took my hands, and spoke softly.
“Don’t try to hide from your feelings, Scott. Don’t try to suppress them. Let them flow through you. They’re real, and the strength of them shows you how much you love your family. This is going to be difficult for you, and nothing that I or anyone else says can make it any easier. But you can, and will, get stronger every day. Now, it’s time. We should begin.”
She opened the chapel door, and stood aside to let me in. The windows ahead looked out over the memorial garden, and I could see the new stone at the far end. To my left was the seating area, facing a small lectern; and on the wall behind that, a much larger copy of the hologram I had in my pocket – almost life-size. I walked down the aisle between the wings of seats, and took the aisle seat on the left. Behind me, the low rustling and mumbling of people filling up the remaining seats. Soon, I heard the doors close and Iona took the lectern. She paused, looking skyward as if asking for guidance. After a moment, she looked out at the gathered people and began to speak with a voice very different from the one I’d heard when we had discussed the service. It reached the roof of the chapel, and rang clearly from the walls.
“We have come here today to remember those taken from us. Cora Ann, Bethany, Steven and Alison Danna. We have come to remember them, to celebrate their lives, to say our farewells, and to commend their souls to the Lords of Argon. Also we have come here today to give comfort to Scott, a husband and father who misses his family greatly and loves them dearly. We each feel a part of his loss; he must bear it all. It is natural, at a time such as this, to focus only on what has been lost – and yet, it is at a time such as this when it is most important to remember also what was shared. Tears and laughter, joy and pain, defeat and triumph. Life brings all these things, and those we have come to remember experienced them all.”
She detailed some of the finer points of Cora’s early life, her schooling, her upbringing here in BalaShandra. I didn’t hear a word of it, I was elsewhere.
We were high on the hills above Panathora, the city lights a bright smudge galaxy dotted with stars in the valley below us, but the distance made its usual racket silent. Just a few meters into the trees and we’d never even know it was there. The hillside path was well-maintained, and rope lights warned the unwary of the cliff edge. It was a cool, crisp winter evening – not cold enough yet for snow, but enough to make us huddle together for a little warmth, and to make our breath leave clouds in the air. We’d been together for about a jazura, and while we had separate houses realistically we were living at Cora’s whenever I came back from trading.
“I could get really used to this, you know” Cora laid her head against my shoulder as we watched the skimmers crawl through the city streets. I squeezed her waist gently and replied. “Yes, I know how you feel. So could I.” I never did ask if she’d known what I was planning, but it was so clearly the right moment. Dropping to one knee in a gesture older than time itself, I took her hand. From a pocket, I produced a small box and opened it, revealing a single diamond set in a silver ring. “Cora Ann Farli... Would you do me the honour of accepting my hand in marriage?”
“...and her tireless work at the Antigone Memorial Centre, where she made many friends among the staff and educated thousands in her time as a tour guide and instructor. Some of those friends are here today, I see...”
It was a bright, hot, clear day – the third, after a long wet spell in BalaShandra. Nature had responded, and everywhere was vibrant green. I couldn’t see it, because I was standing inside the main chapel waiting for Cora to arrive. Beside me, Alec waited too, turning the rings over and over in his hands. I swear he was more nervous than I was. “All you gotta do is stand there and do what you’re told”, he’d said on the way in. “Later, I gotta stand up in front of all these people and be funny for them. I may never forgive you for this, Scott...”
The sound at the back of the chapel picked up, and I resisted the urge to turn around. A traditional air struck up from strings and a pipe organ hidden somewhere, or a very good recording of one. A few long sezuras later, and she stood beside me. I felt like the luckiest Argon anywhere in the gate network. She was radiant, long hair falling in curls over her left shoulder, a simple but elegant dress showing her figure in subtle rather than brazen fashion. The elderly Goner – actually part of the famous Gaffelt family- began to speak.
“Friends, we are gathered today to witness the bonding of these two before us in wedlock. To show our love for them, as they show their love for each other...”
“...It was there that Scott and Cora met for the first time, and began their journey together...”
“...You may now kiss the bride.” He leaned a little closer to as both, his eyes twinkling mischievously, and said so only we could hear “Don’t be shy- they’re expecting a show!” Cora’s smile wasn’t shy at all – it was a challenge. I’ll never forget that kiss for the rest of my life.
“...and in the last eighteen jazuras had three children. Alice was just starting school, and already making friends when the Danna family left Antigone Memorial. Steve had shown promise in mathematics and many sports. Beth was a keen musician, and budding composer. Some of her friends will now perform some of her instrumental work.” Four girls – the rest of the group Beth told me was called ‘Babe-a-Shandra’ - took up positions and instruments around a silent, empty keyboard. Each of them laid a flower on the seat where Beth should be, let their hands rest on it for a sezura, and then they began to play a haunting melody in a minor key.
Cora’s voice over the wave was very insistent. “Fire up that jumpdrive, Scotty D. I need you here, right about yesterday. Got something to tell you…”
“What is it?” She was excited rather than troubled, the name she used told me that much. Whatever it was, it was good news.
“Sooner you get here, sooner you find out! Why aren’t you in-sector yet? Move!” Her laugh was teasing, but the message definitely was serious. The Soy Farm would just have to wait for its energy shipment; the lady needed me at home, so I was going. That was the deal we’d made after her indiscretion with Dan. Two stazuras later, I was walking through the door. Ironic, isn’t it? Half-way across the gate network in sezuras, mizuras to cross the sector to orbit, then more than a stazura to get from orbit to my own house.
“OK, you have my full attention. I’ve come clear across the galaxy to hear you speak, and upset a whole Soy Farm in the process – told them I had something more important to do, and you know how the Paranid hate that sort of thing.” We both grinned at that thought. “ So… What did you want me for?” Her arms snaked up around my neck, and I was soundly kissed. “Mmmph. Impressive, but I’m sure that’s not it. At least, not all of it...” “Nope, it isn’t. Not by a long way. Remember waaaaay back at the start of this jazura when we said we were ready to start a family? Well, we’re now officially on the four-mazura waiting list… Doctor Koppel confirmed it this morning. We’re having a baby, Scott!”
The music in the chapel flooded over me. I could hear Beth play the missing keyboard part, complete with the wrong notes, stumbles, hesitations and muffled minor curses as there had been while she was writing it.
My throat tightened, and tears rolled down each cheek- I could see they were matched by two of the girls who were playing; yet still, they played on. Perhaps that was a lesson there for me.
As the piece finished, there was no applause – only quiet, suppressed sobs from a few places, and sniffs from others, the rustling of handkerchiefs. The girls put down their instruments, and formed a circle around the flower-laden stool. They bowed their heads together for a sezura in silent prayer before returning to their seats.
“Thank you, ladies. Beth would be proud, I’m sure.” She would, I know. Embarrassed, maybe – but proud. The chaplain returned to the lectern. I looked up towards her, and she raised her eyebrows just slightly – a question. I nodded, equally slightly. A pre-arranged check and response, to make sure I was able to go on.
“Scott would like to say a few words.” She stepped away from the lectern again, and sat down in the front row; as she did so, I rose to my feet and took her place. For the first time, I could see who was here in the chapel; while it wasn’t full, there were no empty rows on either side. Right behind me were Vanessa and Marek, behind them a couple of Cora’s old school friends. The group of Beth’s friends, including the four who had played, was close together at the back; just as they would have been in school. To my left, mostly staff from the Memorial Centre. Dan’s face jumped straight out at me, and I looked away from him without making eye-contact. Now was not the time. I looked down at the lectern, where a copy of the poem was laid out. I was thankful I didn’t have to try and remember it, or read from the folded copy I had in my pocket.
My voice broke a couple of times over the first line, but at the third attempt it held – and held all the way through, as I read.
“There are four new stars in the heavens,
Four new stars in the sky.
All my life I'll watch for them
until the day I die.
I'll come across them some day,
I'll know them when I do.
They'll shine much brighter than the rest;
They'll be together, too.
So I'll draw some comfort knowing
You're watching over me.
Looking down and waiting,
Throughout eternity.
Your endearing ways, the endless days
Engraved upon my heart.
My thoughts of you sustain me
All the time that we're apart.
The youngest stars burn brightest.
Their energy and light
Will soothe and give me comfort
Throughout the darkest nights
The older star has a golden glow
Gentle, soft and warm.
Its tender kiss I can't resist;
Your love in different form
I miss you all, with all my heart.
I will, while I'm alive.
There are four new stars in the heavens,
But one day, there'll be five.”
I had to take a moment and hope that the tension in my throat would ease. It didn’t, but I found enough to speak again. It was halting, raw and broken on occasion – but I still had a voice.
“Cora, Beth, Steve and Alice were everything to me. They still are. Ours wasn’t a perfect family- we fought, we argued, we hurt each other sometimes. But always at the end we were still a family. No matter how often Cora and I argued, or Alice spilled drinks on delicate electronics, or Steve’s enthusiastic games broke things, or Beth came home late. None of it mattered. Cora and I loved them, and each other, with all of our hearts and more. I will miss them every mizura until my time comes to join them in the ‘verse beyond, and that time holds no fear for me because when it arrives I will see them all again. As will we all.”
With tears just starting to cloud my vision, I turned and stepped up to the hologram behind me- the rest of the chapel seemed to melt away and I paid no attention to the people watching me. I looked deep into each of the children’s eyes, remembering the sound of their voices as we played on beaches, or laughed, or cried, or shouted, or just talked. Not words, or conversations- just the sounds. Finally, I locked my gaze onto Cora, and whispered. “Farewell for now, my beautiful angel – take care of our children until I get there. I will see you soon.”
Iona returned to the lectern as I took my seat. She closed the service with a simple prayer.
“Lords of Argon, we commend the souls of these four departed friends into your care. Watch over them, as they watch over us. Give them comfort, as they have comforted us. Love them, as we have loved them, until we meet them again. So say I.”
A murmured ‘So say I’ came from all around me. Somehow, from somewhere, Iona had obtained a full recording of Beth’s instrumental piece. It played now, as the chapel doors opened and people began to file out. Iona came to me, and took the seat beside me; closing her hands around mine as she had at the door, while I sat shaking with my head bowed. I felt Vanessa and Marek’s hands on my shoulders, and heard a quiet “We’ll be outside when you’re ready, Scott.” from Marek.
After a mizura or so, the shaking subsided, and I felt able to speak. Just. “Thank you, Ms. Selamin. You’ve been a great help this past wozura, and you handled the service very well.” “You’re welcome, Scott – indeed you’re welcome at any time. My door is usually open, so if in a few days you feel you need to talk; just drop by. I have to prepare for another service now, but remember – my door is usually open.” She stood, and left. I was alone, with just the hologram on the wall for company. Outside I could see a fair number of the congregation clustered around the stone and soon I would have to go out there myself with the Onybara we’d cut earlier. I faced the ‘gram again, but this time it was like a flood gate had been opened. I hadn’t been trying to hold back my feelings during the service, but now it was over it felt more like a dam breaking as loss, pain, guilt, anger, regret and love combined to pour over and through me. I could barely stand, didn’t really want to anyway – just wanted to lie down and be swept away by it all- bend with the flow, or stand against it and break. That was my choice. Maybe five mizuras later I came back to my senses, and struggled to my feet; I didn’t even remember sitting down.
Outside, Marek and Vanessa lead me quickly back to their skimmer through the heavier rain. From inside, I picked up the single Onybara we cut this morning, sheltered it beneath my jacket, and made my way to the stone. The hologram was installed correctly, the stone exactly as ordered. There was a small crowd around it sheltering under umbrellas, though little in the way of flowers- I guess the message I gave Dan got passed on at least. While there were murmurs of condolence as I approached, they all seemed to draw away a little; as if losing your family could be contagious perhaps. Again, it felt much like I was alone as I knelt before the memorial. I laid the Onybara on the stone’s plinth, the rich, dark red almost melting into the jet black around it. I could feel the raindrops pelting my shoulders – it was raining very hard, like the planet was weeping with me. I couldn’t tell which of the drops on the flower’s petals were mine, and which belonged to nature. It didn’t matter. “I miss you... I need you to be my conscience. Speak to me, before I make mistakes or when I lose control. You can bring me back. Stay with me.” My whisper was hoarse, it could probably be heard – but again, it didn’t matter. “You grew this flower. It came from our old house, the bush at the back, the one you always cut flowers from. You always said this was nature’s expression of love, and it was always mine. You know how I loved you, all of you. Watch over me, until we meet again.”
As I stood, I could feel hands on my back, arms, shoulders – light touches, people trying to offer support and I should have been grateful – but I was not. Now this was done, I felt a powerful need to be elsewhere – it didn’t feel like the right place, not with all these people. I resolved to go back on my own in a few days. I needed to be alone for a while. I could think only of one thing. The Mouse was calling me...
Best Served Cold
Part Eighteen - Remembrance
Outside the Memorial Chapel at the hospital, a few knots of people shuffled uncomfortably. The rain had started just mizuras before we arrived, and the various groups were trying to stay as dry as possible under the slightly overhanging roof. As I walked towards the doors, I felt numerous hands on my shoulders, and I’m sure I murmured thanks for attendance to various people but I couldn’t name any of them now if my life depended on it. My mind was very firmly elsewhere.
At the doors, I was greeted by Iona Selamin, the chaplain who still looked far too young to hold the position – but also projected, in her white ceremonial robes, a solemnity that belied her years. She took my hands, and spoke softly.
“Don’t try to hide from your feelings, Scott. Don’t try to suppress them. Let them flow through you. They’re real, and the strength of them shows you how much you love your family. This is going to be difficult for you, and nothing that I or anyone else says can make it any easier. But you can, and will, get stronger every day. Now, it’s time. We should begin.”
She opened the chapel door, and stood aside to let me in. The windows ahead looked out over the memorial garden, and I could see the new stone at the far end. To my left was the seating area, facing a small lectern; and on the wall behind that, a much larger copy of the hologram I had in my pocket – almost life-size. I walked down the aisle between the wings of seats, and took the aisle seat on the left. Behind me, the low rustling and mumbling of people filling up the remaining seats. Soon, I heard the doors close and Iona took the lectern. She paused, looking skyward as if asking for guidance. After a moment, she looked out at the gathered people and began to speak with a voice very different from the one I’d heard when we had discussed the service. It reached the roof of the chapel, and rang clearly from the walls.
“We have come here today to remember those taken from us. Cora Ann, Bethany, Steven and Alison Danna. We have come to remember them, to celebrate their lives, to say our farewells, and to commend their souls to the Lords of Argon. Also we have come here today to give comfort to Scott, a husband and father who misses his family greatly and loves them dearly. We each feel a part of his loss; he must bear it all. It is natural, at a time such as this, to focus only on what has been lost – and yet, it is at a time such as this when it is most important to remember also what was shared. Tears and laughter, joy and pain, defeat and triumph. Life brings all these things, and those we have come to remember experienced them all.”
She detailed some of the finer points of Cora’s early life, her schooling, her upbringing here in BalaShandra. I didn’t hear a word of it, I was elsewhere.
We were high on the hills above Panathora, the city lights a bright smudge galaxy dotted with stars in the valley below us, but the distance made its usual racket silent. Just a few meters into the trees and we’d never even know it was there. The hillside path was well-maintained, and rope lights warned the unwary of the cliff edge. It was a cool, crisp winter evening – not cold enough yet for snow, but enough to make us huddle together for a little warmth, and to make our breath leave clouds in the air. We’d been together for about a jazura, and while we had separate houses realistically we were living at Cora’s whenever I came back from trading.
“I could get really used to this, you know” Cora laid her head against my shoulder as we watched the skimmers crawl through the city streets. I squeezed her waist gently and replied. “Yes, I know how you feel. So could I.” I never did ask if she’d known what I was planning, but it was so clearly the right moment. Dropping to one knee in a gesture older than time itself, I took her hand. From a pocket, I produced a small box and opened it, revealing a single diamond set in a silver ring. “Cora Ann Farli... Would you do me the honour of accepting my hand in marriage?”
“...and her tireless work at the Antigone Memorial Centre, where she made many friends among the staff and educated thousands in her time as a tour guide and instructor. Some of those friends are here today, I see...”
It was a bright, hot, clear day – the third, after a long wet spell in BalaShandra. Nature had responded, and everywhere was vibrant green. I couldn’t see it, because I was standing inside the main chapel waiting for Cora to arrive. Beside me, Alec waited too, turning the rings over and over in his hands. I swear he was more nervous than I was. “All you gotta do is stand there and do what you’re told”, he’d said on the way in. “Later, I gotta stand up in front of all these people and be funny for them. I may never forgive you for this, Scott...”
The sound at the back of the chapel picked up, and I resisted the urge to turn around. A traditional air struck up from strings and a pipe organ hidden somewhere, or a very good recording of one. A few long sezuras later, and she stood beside me. I felt like the luckiest Argon anywhere in the gate network. She was radiant, long hair falling in curls over her left shoulder, a simple but elegant dress showing her figure in subtle rather than brazen fashion. The elderly Goner – actually part of the famous Gaffelt family- began to speak.
“Friends, we are gathered today to witness the bonding of these two before us in wedlock. To show our love for them, as they show their love for each other...”
“...It was there that Scott and Cora met for the first time, and began their journey together...”
“...You may now kiss the bride.” He leaned a little closer to as both, his eyes twinkling mischievously, and said so only we could hear “Don’t be shy- they’re expecting a show!” Cora’s smile wasn’t shy at all – it was a challenge. I’ll never forget that kiss for the rest of my life.
“...and in the last eighteen jazuras had three children. Alice was just starting school, and already making friends when the Danna family left Antigone Memorial. Steve had shown promise in mathematics and many sports. Beth was a keen musician, and budding composer. Some of her friends will now perform some of her instrumental work.” Four girls – the rest of the group Beth told me was called ‘Babe-a-Shandra’ - took up positions and instruments around a silent, empty keyboard. Each of them laid a flower on the seat where Beth should be, let their hands rest on it for a sezura, and then they began to play a haunting melody in a minor key.
Cora’s voice over the wave was very insistent. “Fire up that jumpdrive, Scotty D. I need you here, right about yesterday. Got something to tell you…”
“What is it?” She was excited rather than troubled, the name she used told me that much. Whatever it was, it was good news.
“Sooner you get here, sooner you find out! Why aren’t you in-sector yet? Move!” Her laugh was teasing, but the message definitely was serious. The Soy Farm would just have to wait for its energy shipment; the lady needed me at home, so I was going. That was the deal we’d made after her indiscretion with Dan. Two stazuras later, I was walking through the door. Ironic, isn’t it? Half-way across the gate network in sezuras, mizuras to cross the sector to orbit, then more than a stazura to get from orbit to my own house.
“OK, you have my full attention. I’ve come clear across the galaxy to hear you speak, and upset a whole Soy Farm in the process – told them I had something more important to do, and you know how the Paranid hate that sort of thing.” We both grinned at that thought. “ So… What did you want me for?” Her arms snaked up around my neck, and I was soundly kissed. “Mmmph. Impressive, but I’m sure that’s not it. At least, not all of it...” “Nope, it isn’t. Not by a long way. Remember waaaaay back at the start of this jazura when we said we were ready to start a family? Well, we’re now officially on the four-mazura waiting list… Doctor Koppel confirmed it this morning. We’re having a baby, Scott!”
The music in the chapel flooded over me. I could hear Beth play the missing keyboard part, complete with the wrong notes, stumbles, hesitations and muffled minor curses as there had been while she was writing it.
My throat tightened, and tears rolled down each cheek- I could see they were matched by two of the girls who were playing; yet still, they played on. Perhaps that was a lesson there for me.
As the piece finished, there was no applause – only quiet, suppressed sobs from a few places, and sniffs from others, the rustling of handkerchiefs. The girls put down their instruments, and formed a circle around the flower-laden stool. They bowed their heads together for a sezura in silent prayer before returning to their seats.
“Thank you, ladies. Beth would be proud, I’m sure.” She would, I know. Embarrassed, maybe – but proud. The chaplain returned to the lectern. I looked up towards her, and she raised her eyebrows just slightly – a question. I nodded, equally slightly. A pre-arranged check and response, to make sure I was able to go on.
“Scott would like to say a few words.” She stepped away from the lectern again, and sat down in the front row; as she did so, I rose to my feet and took her place. For the first time, I could see who was here in the chapel; while it wasn’t full, there were no empty rows on either side. Right behind me were Vanessa and Marek, behind them a couple of Cora’s old school friends. The group of Beth’s friends, including the four who had played, was close together at the back; just as they would have been in school. To my left, mostly staff from the Memorial Centre. Dan’s face jumped straight out at me, and I looked away from him without making eye-contact. Now was not the time. I looked down at the lectern, where a copy of the poem was laid out. I was thankful I didn’t have to try and remember it, or read from the folded copy I had in my pocket.
My voice broke a couple of times over the first line, but at the third attempt it held – and held all the way through, as I read.
“There are four new stars in the heavens,
Four new stars in the sky.
All my life I'll watch for them
until the day I die.
I'll come across them some day,
I'll know them when I do.
They'll shine much brighter than the rest;
They'll be together, too.
So I'll draw some comfort knowing
You're watching over me.
Looking down and waiting,
Throughout eternity.
Your endearing ways, the endless days
Engraved upon my heart.
My thoughts of you sustain me
All the time that we're apart.
The youngest stars burn brightest.
Their energy and light
Will soothe and give me comfort
Throughout the darkest nights
The older star has a golden glow
Gentle, soft and warm.
Its tender kiss I can't resist;
Your love in different form
I miss you all, with all my heart.
I will, while I'm alive.
There are four new stars in the heavens,
But one day, there'll be five.”
I had to take a moment and hope that the tension in my throat would ease. It didn’t, but I found enough to speak again. It was halting, raw and broken on occasion – but I still had a voice.
“Cora, Beth, Steve and Alice were everything to me. They still are. Ours wasn’t a perfect family- we fought, we argued, we hurt each other sometimes. But always at the end we were still a family. No matter how often Cora and I argued, or Alice spilled drinks on delicate electronics, or Steve’s enthusiastic games broke things, or Beth came home late. None of it mattered. Cora and I loved them, and each other, with all of our hearts and more. I will miss them every mizura until my time comes to join them in the ‘verse beyond, and that time holds no fear for me because when it arrives I will see them all again. As will we all.”
With tears just starting to cloud my vision, I turned and stepped up to the hologram behind me- the rest of the chapel seemed to melt away and I paid no attention to the people watching me. I looked deep into each of the children’s eyes, remembering the sound of their voices as we played on beaches, or laughed, or cried, or shouted, or just talked. Not words, or conversations- just the sounds. Finally, I locked my gaze onto Cora, and whispered. “Farewell for now, my beautiful angel – take care of our children until I get there. I will see you soon.”
Iona returned to the lectern as I took my seat. She closed the service with a simple prayer.
“Lords of Argon, we commend the souls of these four departed friends into your care. Watch over them, as they watch over us. Give them comfort, as they have comforted us. Love them, as we have loved them, until we meet them again. So say I.”
A murmured ‘So say I’ came from all around me. Somehow, from somewhere, Iona had obtained a full recording of Beth’s instrumental piece. It played now, as the chapel doors opened and people began to file out. Iona came to me, and took the seat beside me; closing her hands around mine as she had at the door, while I sat shaking with my head bowed. I felt Vanessa and Marek’s hands on my shoulders, and heard a quiet “We’ll be outside when you’re ready, Scott.” from Marek.
After a mizura or so, the shaking subsided, and I felt able to speak. Just. “Thank you, Ms. Selamin. You’ve been a great help this past wozura, and you handled the service very well.” “You’re welcome, Scott – indeed you’re welcome at any time. My door is usually open, so if in a few days you feel you need to talk; just drop by. I have to prepare for another service now, but remember – my door is usually open.” She stood, and left. I was alone, with just the hologram on the wall for company. Outside I could see a fair number of the congregation clustered around the stone and soon I would have to go out there myself with the Onybara we’d cut earlier. I faced the ‘gram again, but this time it was like a flood gate had been opened. I hadn’t been trying to hold back my feelings during the service, but now it was over it felt more like a dam breaking as loss, pain, guilt, anger, regret and love combined to pour over and through me. I could barely stand, didn’t really want to anyway – just wanted to lie down and be swept away by it all- bend with the flow, or stand against it and break. That was my choice. Maybe five mizuras later I came back to my senses, and struggled to my feet; I didn’t even remember sitting down.
Outside, Marek and Vanessa lead me quickly back to their skimmer through the heavier rain. From inside, I picked up the single Onybara we cut this morning, sheltered it beneath my jacket, and made my way to the stone. The hologram was installed correctly, the stone exactly as ordered. There was a small crowd around it sheltering under umbrellas, though little in the way of flowers- I guess the message I gave Dan got passed on at least. While there were murmurs of condolence as I approached, they all seemed to draw away a little; as if losing your family could be contagious perhaps. Again, it felt much like I was alone as I knelt before the memorial. I laid the Onybara on the stone’s plinth, the rich, dark red almost melting into the jet black around it. I could feel the raindrops pelting my shoulders – it was raining very hard, like the planet was weeping with me. I couldn’t tell which of the drops on the flower’s petals were mine, and which belonged to nature. It didn’t matter. “I miss you... I need you to be my conscience. Speak to me, before I make mistakes or when I lose control. You can bring me back. Stay with me.” My whisper was hoarse, it could probably be heard – but again, it didn’t matter. “You grew this flower. It came from our old house, the bush at the back, the one you always cut flowers from. You always said this was nature’s expression of love, and it was always mine. You know how I loved you, all of you. Watch over me, until we meet again.”
As I stood, I could feel hands on my back, arms, shoulders – light touches, people trying to offer support and I should have been grateful – but I was not. Now this was done, I felt a powerful need to be elsewhere – it didn’t feel like the right place, not with all these people. I resolved to go back on my own in a few days. I needed to be alone for a while. I could think only of one thing. The Mouse was calling me...
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gsheriston
- Posts: 351
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Oh, lords... I didn't even think about the effect it would have on anyone elseSOTS wrote:Well that brought back some uncomfortable memories. Brilliantly written, well done.
Hope you don't feel too bad. And thank you for the kind words.I did - part of why it all took so long. It was a struggle, and I realised I'm no poet. I doubt there will be others. Maybe Vogons now only write the fourth worst poetry in the Universe...SOTS wrote: Did you write that poem yourself?
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