Патрик Томлинсон - Children of the Divide

“They are,” Theresa confirmed. “Totally savage. But you’re only one game out of first place, and well, you know how I am about men in tights.”

“They’re not tights,” Benson objected. “They’re pads.”

“Well they certainly pad all the right places.”

“Hello? Your husband is sitting right here!”

“And he’s dead sexy,” Theresa cooed. “For a fifty-two year-old.”

“Oh God, I’ve hit ‘qualified’ age.”

“Sweetie, you hit qualified age about seven years ago. Which is a lot longer than most men manage, so be proud of yourself.”

“I do try,” Benson said, then fell quiet again.

“Hey,” Theresa pressed, “you’re tuning me out again. What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s something. It’s not like you to forget appointments, especially not when Benexx is involved… well, usually.”

“Sorry. I’ve just been distracted.”

Theresa reached across the pod and lightly rested her hand on his knee. “You’re not just distracted. You’ve been distant. I hoped that zer summer with Kexx and Sakiko would give you enough time to look forward to seeing zer again, but–”

“No, it’s not that at all. I miss zer terribly. You know that.”

She leaned in and took his hand in hers. Her hands had lost a lot of their youthful softness, hardened and creased by a law enforcement career now entering its third decade. But to him, they’d always be velvet.

“Then what is it, Bryan? Because I still can’t read your mind, even with the plants.”

“Benexx and I have…” Benson paused, afraid of what he was going to say. Afraid that putting it into words would somehow cement it into reality. “…have been growing apart. I’ve tried to fight it, but she, excuse me, ze keeps pushing me further away. We can’t agree on anything lately. It feels like I’m losing zer to something.”

Theresa squeezed his hand. “God, Bryan, I love you so much, but you’re an idiot.”

“Thanks.”

“No, I’m serious. Ze’s a teenager, Bryan. How well did you get along with your father when you were a teenager?”

“That’s different,” Benson said. “Fathers and sons always have a hard time dealing with each other through adolescence.”

“And you think mothers and daughters don’t?” Theresa said, barely suppressing a laugh. “My mother and I nearly killed each other.”

“But ze’s not fighting with you .”

She squeezed his forearm. “Bryan, I know you’ve tried really, really hard to treat zer like an Atlantian child, but I know you think of Benexx as your daughter. I do too, even if I hide it better. But ze’s not a girl, and the expectations you have for what your relationship with zer should be are screwing up your ability to process what it is .”

“That’s not it.”

“No?”

“No, well, maybe some of it, but not all. I just miss…”

“Being zer hero.” Theresa smiled warmly. “Sorry sweetie, but that happens to everyone eventually. Recognizing that your parents aren’t infallible or indestructible is part of growing up for every kid. So is rebelling against stuffy old mom and dad, otherwise they’d never leave the damned house. I have a feeling it’s just as true with Atlantians and us. But I don’t know. Talk to Kexx, ask zer if Atlantian kids are supposed to become insufferable little pricks around fifteen.”

“Let’s hope not.” Benson nodded out the window at the last of the makeshift housing units, lean-tos, and even traditionally-built Atlantian mudstone buildings made by those immigrants with the skills who didn’t feel like waiting around for the construction robots to catch up. “Otherwise, we’re going to have real problems.”

Theresa shivered. “Don’t remind me. I already have nightmares about what this place is going to look like in another couple years.”

Among those living in the Native Quarter, almost eighty percent were younger than twenty, most of those having been born right here after the first wave of bearer immigration fifteen years ago. And thanks to the Atlantians’ unusual lifecycle, it would be another eight to ten years before the first of them started transitioning to the elder gender.

An entire generation of adolescents coming of age in an alien city with no one around to mate with. It was a demographic time-bomb no one was talking about, but Benson knew it was already ticking.

But, it wasn’t his problem anymore. He’d been out of the law enforcement game for a very long time. This was Theresa’s wheelhouse. Benson only had to worry about one unruly Atlantian teenager.

The pod rolled gently to a stop at the small terminal building at the edge of the airstrip. To the north, a large, utilitarian hangar had been erected to service the growing fleet of passenger jets and to shield them from the occasional severe weather that the long summers tended to whip up.

The doors rotated open and Benson held Theresa’s hand as she stepped out. The pod reversed out of the terminal and accelerated back towards the city just as the airliner’s wheels touched down on the tarmac, throwing out little swirls of blue smoke.

The pudgy blended-wing craft slowed rapidly and coasted to the end of the runway, then rolled down the smaller taxiway to one of the three waiting terminals. A small crowd of people assembled near the door, either waiting to pick up returning friends or waiting to get on the plane before it turned around for the return trip. A security guard waiting by the jetway recognized Benson and Theresa and waved them through. Strictly speaking, he shouldn’t have done that, but Theresa was unlikely to complain.

Benson psyched himself up for the reunion. He put on a smile that was at least seventy percent genuine and tried to ignore the other thirty.

“There ze is,” Theresa said, pointing down the jetway. Benexx, a large wheeled bag rolling along behind zer, saw them and walked over. Zer skin seemed a little darker from the sun, although with Atlantians’ constantly shifting chromatophores, it was hard to tell a sun tan from a foul mood. The finely braided bracelets and choker, however, were new. Tiny volcanic glass beads and the iridescent shells of as-yet unnamed sea creatures adorned zer wrists and neck. New acquisitions from G’tel’s constantly expanding bazars.

Ze embraced zer mother in a tight hug.

“Welcome home, sweetie,” Theresa said.

“Hi mom.” Benexx looked over Theresa’s shoulder at Benson’s smiling face. “Dad,” ze said, cool and non-commital.

“Hello pumpkin.” Benson held his arms open to offer a hug, working hard to keep the thin veneer of his smile from cracking under the weight of his child’s chilly indifference.

“I’m tired,” Benexx said, suddenly bored. “Let’s go home.” Ze let go of Theresa, then stalked away towards the light rail station and hailed a pod.

“Well,” Theresa said, “That could have gone worse.”

“How? If ze’d shot me?” Benson asked.

“Yeah.” Theresa bobbed her head. “That’s one way.”

Four

“Ah. Flight, repeat your last, please,” Jian said anxiously.

“ Atlantis , your mission objectives have changed. You are to touch down and aid the harvester techs in conducting an initial survey of the anomaly before reporting back.”

“Flight, we’re not really trained for that kind of assignment,” Jian said.

“The order comes from Ark Actual directly.”

“Well then put Ark Actual on the line,” Jian said, hoping his annoyance masked his apprehension.

The line clicked over a moment later. “This is Ark Actual, go ahead Atlantis .”

“Ark Actual,” Jian said, sticking to radio titles and protocol. “I’d like clarification on the new mission parameters.”