Steven Harper - Dreamer

“He won’t talk about it. I’ve tried once or twice, but he always changes the subject.”

“Keep trying, would you?”

Ben’s red eyebrows lowered. “This wouldn’t be a subtle attempt to get us back together, would it?”

“It’s not subtle.” Ara smoothed her purple tunic. “I worry about you, too, you know. It’s obvious to me you’ve been unhappy without him.”

“Mother-”

“And that’s another thing. It’s always Mother now. It sounds like you mean Mother Adept. Whatever happened to Mom?”

Ben shrugged. “Everyone else calls you Mother. It’s just easier, I guess. People might think the only reason I’m here is because I’m your son.”

“Everyone on board knows you’re my son, Ben,” Ara chided gently. “They also know you’re one of the most talented people on this ship. Communications, forgery, hacking. And you have your pilot’s license now. I chose you for this crew because there isn’t anyone else who can do what you can.”

Except enter the Dream, Ben thought. His eyes strayed for a moment to one of the small holograms on the desk behind his mother. The small round projector that formed the base was old and worn, older than Ben, in fact. It showed the head and shoulders of a man in his early twenties, a little younger than Ben. He had neatly-combed dark hair, smiling green eyes, and a dimple in his chin. On the base was inscribed “Benjamin Heller.” When Ben was little, he used to fantasize that Benjamin Heller was his father. He had been named for the man, after all. Ara had told him a few stories about Benjamin Heller, that he was handsome, laughed easily, and had a penchant for puns and practical jokes. Ben’s little-boy imagination had added to the picture. Benjamin Heller would be strong and caring, and he would swing Ben through the air or wrestle with him on the floor. He wouldn’t spend endless hours in a Dream trance or leave Ben with relatives while he tracked down more important people-Silent people-who had been enslaved on other planets. It was all just a fantasy, though. Benjamin Heller had died years before Ben’s implantation in Ara’s womb.

“Can we go back to Mom?” Ara asked. Her voice was almost pleading, and Ben couldn’t help a small smile.

“How about Mother in public and Mom in private?” he suggested.

“It’ll do.” Ara gave a small smile of her own, then got up and went over to the miniature galley. “Would you like some tea? We can talk about you and Kendi. You never did explain why you broke it off with him. Peggy-Sue, raise tap temperature to boiling.”

Ben opened his mouth to give an evasive answer, then closed it. She’d done it again-manipulated the conversation away from herself. Ben had seen her do it with her authority as Mother Adept. Now she did with her authority as a mother. Abruptly, Ben had had enough.

“I came in here to talk about you, Mom. Not me.”

Ara blinked, two tea mugs in either hand. “Well, that was…direct.”

“I want to know what’s bothering you, Moth-Mom. Was it something the Empress said?”

“No.”

“There-you lied again.”

“I did not.”

“Mom.” Ben gave the word two exasperated syllables. “I have to agree with Kendi. If you’re holding back something important and something…happens to you, he won’t know everything he needs to.”

Ara silently handed him a steaming mug. It smelled of raspberries. “Strong with no sugar,” she said. “Just the way you like it.” She paused a moment, stirring her own tea. The spoon made a light clinking sound. Ben waited.

“It’s something I have to deal with,” she said finally. “No, don’t interrupt. You were right. I lied. It’s something I can’t bring myself to talk about yet.”

“Something about finding Sejal.” He took a hot, raspberry sip and set the mug down.

“Yes.”

An idea stole over Ben. “Is it that he’s really related to Kendi?”

“What?” Ara looked startled.

“Kendi thinks Sejal is a relative of his.”

“Oh no,” Ara groaned. “If I know Kendi, he’s already worked out how Sejal is related to him and where his relatives must be. Now what do we do?”

“Don’t try to change the subject. If the Empress didn’t mention Kendi’s relatives, what did she say?”

Ara blew on her tea.

“Mom. You’re going to have to tell us eventually. Why not now?”

“I might have to kill Sejal,” Ara said into her mug.

Ben stared. Ara drank, then cupped her hands around the tea mug as if they were cold.

“Kill him?” Ben said at last. “Why?”

“If, in my opinion, Sejal would, quote, ‘pose a threat to the Confederation,’“ Ara said quietly, “the Empress wants me to kill him.”

“She gave us an order like that?” Ben said incredulously. “What does she mean by ‘a threat’?”

“I’m not completely sure,” Ara said. “She left it up to me.”

“God.” Ben got up to pace the rug. “How could she order us to do something like that? What does she think we are?”

“She ordered me, Ben. Not you. Or anyone else.”

Ben stopped. “That’s why you’ve been so upset?”

“Yes.”

“God,” Ben repeated. “That’s cold-blooded of her. How could one boy with a freak ability threaten the entire Confederation?”

“If he possessed the right person or people at the right time, he could start a war, or assassinate an important person, or any number of things. Not to mention that if word of a Silent with the power to possess unwilling non-Silent gets out to the public, witch hunts will start all over the place. No one would be safe then.”

Ben was still pacing with agitation. “So the Empress chooses you to decide whether or not Sejal should die and then she says you have to pull the trigger, is that it? Who the hell does she think she is?”

“She thinks she’s Empress.”

Ben whirled on her, ready to make a sharp reply, when he noticed the tears standing in Ara’s eyes. Immediately he swallowed the remark and knelt by her chair to put an arm around her shoulders. She hesitated, then leaned her head against him. Ben remained very still. He had been an adult for several years now, but a handful of years didn’t erase a lifetime of expectations. Parents comforted their children, not the other way around.

“It’s all right, Mom,” he said softly. “All you have to do is decide that Sejal isn’t a threat and you’re off the hook.”

Ara was sniffling now, looking not at all like a firm, decisive Mother Adept. Anger rose in Ben’s chest. Kan maja Kalii might be the Empress and her word might be law, but Ara was Ben’s mother. In that moment, he would have socked Kalii on the jaw cheerfully and without hesitation.

“It isn’t that simple, Ben,” Ara said. “The Empress-and now I-have to think of literally countless lives. If I make a mistake and don’t…and I let Sejal live, thousands or even millions of people could die in his place. I’m afraid the Empress might be right, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to do what needs to be done.”

Ben didn’t know what to say to that, so he stayed quiet.

A moment later, Ara sat up and reached for a tissue to blow her nose. “Thanks, Ben. I feel better now.”

“Do you want me to tell Kendi about…about this?” Ben asked hesitantly.

Ara shook her head. “It’s my job. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

PLANET RUST

Kendi tried to run, but there was no room. Unyielding stone hemmed him in. Shadows flickered like dancing trolls.

“Keeeeennnnnddiiiiii,” rasped a voice. “Keeeeennnddiiii.”