Zoraida Cordova - A Crash of Fate

“You’re right,” Izzy said.

“I know you aren’t just taking in the sights. I know what your mother did.”

“You and everyone else,” Izzy said in a whisper that was nearly drowned out by the shrill cries of the kid. “I’m not like her.”

“You’re close enough. I’ve seen enough strangers to know someone looking for trouble.”

“I don’t want trouble.”

“It’s part of your line of work, whether you want it or not.”

She shrugged. “I have a ship. People need things delivered. It’s not much different from what Jules does for Dok.”

“Maybe. But Jules isn’t going to do that forever. Things follow you home,” Belen said, as if her harshness was out of protection and not malice. “People follow you home. Why do you think most smugglers and pirates don’t live to be old and gray?”

“Some do. I’ve seen—”

“That’s not the life I want for my brother.”

Izzy was breathing quickly. Why did it matter what Belen thought of her and her life choices?

You could always choose us, Jac had said.

“We’re doing a job for Dok,” Izzy said. She felt her skin tighten and imagined she was being shielded by the toughest, most indestructible armor. That was the way she survived. “That’s all. I’m leaving tonight as soon as it’s done.”

“I blame you, Izal Garsea,” Belen said.

“For what , exactly?”

“I wanted better for Jules. He got recruited for the New Republic Academy and he wouldn’t go. He wouldn’t leave. Even as he got older there was something keeping him here. I used to think it was our mother, but then she passed. Seeing the way he looks at you breaks my heart. I know, I just know that you’re the reason he threw away opportunities.”

Izzy shook her head. She didn’t want to hear that. How could that be true? Belen was wrong, trying to blame Izzy for something that wasn’t her fault. “Jules stayed here because he loved this outpost.”

Belen’s eyes, so much like Jules’s, were difficult for Izzy to meet. “Answer me this, Izal. In all that time you spent flying from planet to planet, did you even think about coming back?”

Izzy’s throat felt swollen. She had thought about it, but she’d never done it. How was she supposed to know Jules was waiting for her?

“You finish what you came here to do, but if you leave, you had better not come back.”

Izzy stood abruptly. She glanced up at the loralora bird flying in circles above her. She hadn’t wanted the creature attached to her. Bonded, as Jules had said. But as Lucky began to fly away from the farm, something inside Izzy went cold. Hadn’t she attached herself to Jules all day? He made her laugh. She’d never been able to talk to anyone the way she did with him. He was patient and had a good, strong heart. She couldn’t break it.

“I won’t come back. That’s a promise.”

Belen nodded once, then said, “I need to get back to work.”

That was when Izzy realized Belen was keeping two hands on her stomach in a protective way. She was showing the barest signs of pregnancy. She imagined Jules caring for his future niece or nephew. He was good with children. He was good with people in a way she had never even attempted. Jules belonged on Batuu with his family.

“It was good to see you, Garsea. Good journey—well—back to wherever home is.”

Though that bothered Izzy more than she wanted to admit, she did her best not to flinch as Belen embraced her before returning to the farmlands.

Jules chose that moment to return to Izzy’s side. His hair was messy and his skin looked warm. She wanted to shake him. She wanted him to hold her.

“Sorry I left you alone with my sister,” Jules said. “She’s intense. She’s a surrogate mother to every kid here who doesn’t have one. Where’s Lucky?”

Izzy didn’t need a surrogate mother, but she needed someone to remind her where she belonged. Wherever home was? That was the Meridian . It was old and chugged fuel, but it was the only place where she felt safe. Being on Batuu was messing with her mind. She had to stop vacillating between nostalgia and dreams and do the job.

“Izzy?”

“She flew away,” she said, then walked past him, down a path where the labyrinth of weeds grew unruly and tall, hiding her from sight. She breathed in the sweet smell of grain, of fertilized soil, of grass. Jules.

She let out a pained laugh at the thought of having made promises to both Rakab siblings. To Jules she’d promised to come back. To Belen she’d promised to stay away. She could keep both of those promises, even if the first one had been thirteen years too late.

There had been a good rainy season, and it showed in the wildness of the trees, in the lands that lay on the periphery of the farm that gave way to jagged spires. Just as they had when they were kids, they hiked over the crags, keeping balance with their hands. They stopped on a small grass mount enclosed by narrow rock walls, far enough from the farm that no one would notice them.

Something had upset Izzy, and Jules had a good idea what it could be. “Did Belen say anything to you?”

“No,” she said, her voice tight.

“Lie. I think I’ve earned some goodwill from you today.”

She whirled on him then. The green of her eyes was just as wild as the weeds that towered over them. She ran a hand through her hair and shook her head.

“You want to talk about lies? Let’s start with you.”

His heart beat wildly against his ribs. “What about me?”

“You told me that you didn’t know what was keeping you here,” she said. “That you haven’t found an adventure worth chasing.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

She waved her hands in the air, her voice tense. “Everything. I’m not your adventure, Jules.”

“I never said you were.” He took a step back. What had Belen said to her?

“Then why are you still here on Batuu when you could be anywhere else?”

He’d had enough people in his life asking him the same question. Belen. Haal. Other farmers. Lee. Even Dok. He’d never been able to give a real answer. He understood why Belen believed that Izzy was the sole reason he’d never left the planet.

One year, when he was around eight years old, there was a bad harvest. There wasn’t a lot of work to go around, and some families were taking off on transports to nearby worlds in search of jobs. All Belen had done was suggest it to her parents. Jules wouldn’t go. He remembered it had been one of the few times he’d thrown a fit. What if Izzy came back? What if he wasn’t there when she did? The Rakab family had stayed put, but it hadn’t been to appease Jules. It was because his parents had found temporary work instead. His father would have put up with Jules’s cries no matter what. He knew that.

Another time, after he’d gotten the opportunity to enroll in the academy after most of his friends had left the planet, Belen had taken him out to celebrate. It was the first time he’d been drunk. He’d confessed that he’d declined and thrown out his application. He’d never seen her so upset. He remembered saying something about Izzy when Belen asked why. But he couldn’t recall exactly. Maybe it was just her name. That memory was cloudy, blurred by his first time being intoxicated.

Maybe when he was a boy he’d been heartsick and waiting for a girl to return. But he had been a child then. Children were allowed to have ridiculous dreams. He couldn’t lie to himself though. Even after he’d given up the notion that he’d ever see her again, a tiny part of him still wished. Had that wish embedded in his mind so deeply that even earlier that morning he couldn’t figure out what to do with his life until she’d shown up?