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| Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3, and by Pixlr AI image editor |
It has not been easy, but Tinaya and Arqut have gotten through the loss of
their son, and the sudden introduction of an alternate version of him. What
he did cannot be undone, so the only choice is to move forward. They held a
little funeral for their lost child, and then that night, they shed their
last tear for him. A new tear might form itself later, but for now, they’re
okay. Though Silveon may now be older than them, for all they know, it’s
still their job to protect him. Even if he’s smart enough to navigate the
complexities of adulthood, he’s still just a little guy, so if nothing else,
he needs them to open cabinet doors, and stuff. Plus, he has to act like a
baby around most people.
Tinaya has the day off today, so she’s the one taking him to his playdate.
Niobe would normally do it, but she has the day off too as far as her
designated guardian duties go. The door opens. “Hello. Calla, I presume?”
A woman in her fifties is standing on the other side of the door in a pink
floral robe that’s insufficiently covering up a nightie that is far too
revealing. She’s holding something in her hand that Tinaya doesn’t
recognize. It’s a small tube that’s glowing orange on one end. She smirks at
Tinaya and lifts the tube up to place it between her lips. “It’s called a
cigarette. People used to smoke ‘em on Earth. Like this.” She inhales,
inducing the glow to brighten just a bit. She then contorts her mouth as she
removes the cigarette, and blows the smoke out away from Tinaya and
Silveon’s faces.
“I don’t smell it. If it’s smoke...”
“It’s not real.” Calla takes another puff, but covers the tip of the
cigarette with her hand, which blocks the holographic light from spreading
throughout the area.
“What’s the point?”
“It’s real on the other end,” Calla responds. “Still fucks up my lungs.”
That’s stupid, Tinaya thinks to herself.
“Yeah, it is stupid. But at least there’s no such thing as secondhand
smoke on this ship, so you should be grateful. And by the way,” she goes on
as she’s stepping aside for them to come in. “I’m not in my fifties.”
Tinaya takes a deep, epiphanic breath. “You’re a psychic.”
“Born and bred,” Calla agrees with a tight voice, which leads to a short
coughing fit. “Can’t turn it off. Holo-smoking helps a little. The
drinking...helps a lot.” She reaches for a glass of some kind of gross
brownish liquid, and downs the rest of it.
“How are you getting away with these things? They’re illegal.”
Calla chuckles as she’s pouring another. “People got secrets. I know they’re
secrets.” She offers the drink to Tinaya, then shrugs and downs that one too
when Tinaya declines. She pours a third. “I can get away with pretty much
anything.” She walks over, and points an accusing finger at Silveon. “As
long as this little shit doesn’t fight me.”
“Excuse me?” Tinaya questions as she’s pulling her son away protectively.
“I can’t read his mind,” Calla explains as she’s shuffling away from the two
of them. “He must be psychic too, and the best one I’ve ever heard of if
he’s already mastered his barriers at his age.”
“What about your son?” Tinaya asks. “What’s he?”
Calla freezes up, and stays there for several seconds before dropping her
glass down on the table. She then waits another several seconds. “A
bigger shit. Come on. He’s taking a nap, but I can wake him up.”
Tinaya follows her down the hallway after Silveon shuts his eyes, and nods.
This is apparently what he wants. But he must be crazy, because not only is
this woman the biggest mess she’s ever seen, but the situation with her son
is even crazier. “Is this a joke? This is Waldemar? Why, he must be at least
eight years old!” The boy is sleeping on his side while a toy soldier
operates on its own on his pillow right in front of his face, loudly
shooting imaginary enemies.
“He’s ten,” Calla corrects.
“I assumed he was a baby, like Silvy.”
“You think this was my idea? Your niece, or whatever, is the one
who brought him.” Niobe knows the truth about Silveon. If she did this, it’s
because he asked her to.
Silveon suddenly giggles, and gently slaps Tinaya in her temple. It doesn’t
hurt, but she does feel something surge throughout her head. It quickly
dissipates.
Calla narrows her eyes, and peers at her. Then she shifts her gaze to
Silveon, and back again. “He just put a psychic barrier in your mind.” She
once more points at him accusingly, barely holding onto the glass with her
remaining fingers. “What are you?”
“He’s my son,” Tinaya declares defiantly. “He’s my baby,” she adds in a
softer tone. She adjusts her hold on him against her hip. “I don’t think
this is going to work out. I’m sure Waldemar is a very lovely boy—”
“He’s not.”
“Then all the more reason...”
Silveon places his hands against her collarbone, and pushes his face away
from her. Even though they’ve not come up with a code for how he can
communicate with her while they’re in mixed company, she is absolutely sure
that he’s trying to tell her that they need to stay.
“I think he wants to stay.” Calla is interpreting the move the same way
apparently.
Tinaya looks at her child with concern on her face. This is obviously part
of his mission, and if she holds him back from that, she’ll have lost the
younger version of him for nothing. All three of them have sacrificed so
much to make this work; four, if they’re counting Niobe. They can’t give up
now. She may not know Silveon very well, but no son of hers would have sent
his own consciousness back in time just for funsies. It has to be incredibly
important that he make the changes to the timeline that he’s surely
painstakingly planned out. She switches him to her other hip. “Okay. Well,
we’ll be back in twenty minutes. I forgot his favorite stuffie.”
“Whatever.” Calla closes the door. “We’ll be here.”
Tinaya leaves the unit with Silveon, but then teleports back to their
stateroom from the hallway. She carefully sets him down on the couch. “Why
didn’t you tell me this before? Why didn’t you warn me?” She paces the room
impatiently.
“I wanted you to see it for yourself,” Silveon replies. It’s still weird,
hearing this little toddler articulate so well. “If Auntie Ni and I had
tried to explain it, you would have just shaken your head, and forbade us
from going. I need you to understand what we’re dealing with, so you’ll see
why there’s no other choice.”
“I don’t know that. I didn’t see that. Nothing about that situation tells me
why the hell—!” She stops herself. She shouldn’t be cursing in front of her
son.
“It’s okay, mom. I’ve heard worse. I’m an adult.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that.” She takes one beat. “Are you psychic too? Have
you been reading our minds this whole time?”
“No, I can’t read your mind,” he assures her. “Anyone can learn to put up a
psychic barrier, and I learned from the best. I had to.”
“Who is Valdemar Kristiansen? Or rather, who does he become?”
“Hopefully nothing,” Silveon says.
“You’re here to assassinate him? Is this you trying to subvert the Hitler's
Time Travel Exemption Act?”
Silveon laughs. “No. I’m not here to hurt anybody, mother.”
She keeps pacing for a little while in silence. “Why you? He’s eight years
older, and no one can take you seriously yet. Why did they choose you to do
this?”
Silveon smiles kindly. “No one chose me. I didn’t even volunteer. I’m the
one who realized what needed to be done. I came up with the idea, I made the
plan, and I’m following it through. I had help, but this isn’t a large
operation. I might have chosen someone else if I had thought that I
could trust them. But if there’s one thing this ship has taught me, it’s
that...you can only rely on yourself.”
“I hate that lesson,” Tinaya laments.
“Me too,” he says comfortingly. “Which is why I’m trying to change it.”
“What’s wrong with that woman?” she asks.
“Just what you would think. She hears all the despicable things that people
would prefer to keep to themselves. She tries to suffocate and drown them
out, but they still leak through, and...”
Tinaya can guess where he’s going with this. “And she can hear her own son’s
thoughts. That’s the real problem. He’s the real problem.”
“He doesn’t have to be. I can teach him.”
She has stopped pacing, but she’s looking away now, deep in thought. “Teach
me first. Tell me what I need to know about him, and the future, and
I will fix him for you. I’m an adult. I’m the Captain! This is no job for a
baby.”
“It is, though,” he contends. “It’s not just about knowing what will happen
if I don’t help him. It’s about who he’ll listen to. And I’m sorry, but the
Captain? You are the last person he’ll listen to. Not everyone respects the
chair. Some hate it. Some hate you. He’s the embodiment of all that hate. He
absorbs it.” He pauses for a great deal of time. “Literally.”
“So, he is a psychic too?”
“Not in the way that you’re thinking. Look, I’ve already said too much. You
really shouldn’t know all this. It’s not your problem. Just pretend to
change my diapers, and sign me up for school when I’m older. I’ll handle the
rest.”
“Did you have kids?”
“What?”
“Of your own. Did you grow up to have kids? Can you tell me that much?”
“No, I didn’t. I was too busy. I don’t think I could have done this if I
had.”
“Then you couldn’t have known that what you’ve asked me to do is impossible.
I can’t just let you handle it, no matter how old you are. I will always be
your mother, and I will always need you to need me.”
He processes her words, then acknowledges them with a respectful nod.
Tinaya sighs, and looks over at the nursery door. “What’s your favorite
stuffie? Or, what do you want it to be? We’ve come up with a cover story, so
let’s make it real.”
Silveon smiles. “The fennec.”
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