Chapter Nine

Planet Rust

The policeman and the terrorist are birthed from the same womb.

—Anonymous

Kendi burst into the hotel lobby barely thirty seconds ahead of the guard. The desk clerk, a short man with a horsey face, looked up, startled.

“What room is the hustler in? The kid with blue eyes,” he snapped.

“Uh—”

“There’s a raid right behind me,” Kendi said. “What room?”

The clerk was already heading for the back door. “Room one-oh-two,” he called over his shoulder. Then he was gone.

Kendi dashed for the hallway. He had reached the door to the first room when the front door smashed open and armed guard poured into the lobby. “Everybody freeze!” one shouted. Kendi kept on moving.

Room 102 was only a few steps further up the hall. Without stopping, Kendi rammed his shoulder into the door. The cheap plastic gave with a crack like a gunshot. Kendi stumbled into the room. Inside, Sejal jumped away from the woman he had entered the hotel with. They were standing next to the sagging bed. The woman’s blouse was open, and she yanked it shut with an outraged screech.

“The guard’s right behind me,” Kendi gasped. “We have to get out!”

Without a word, Sejal rushed to the grimy window. It wasn’t made to open. Footsteps and shouts rumbled from the hallway.

“Who the hell are you?” the woman demanded. She was in her thirties, with brown hair and eyes. Kendi ignored her and snatched up a lamp, intending to smash the window with it.

“Freeze!”

Two guards framed the shattered doorway, one leveling a pistol, the other pointing a camera. It flashed just as Kendi flung the lamp at them. The guard fired just as the lamp struck his arm. Energy cracked through the air and burned a hole in the wall. The smell of burnt aerogel filled the room. Sejal didn’t move. The guard with the camera abruptly balled up a fist and socked his partner on the jaw. With a startled grunt, the man went down. The woman screamed again.

Still operating on autopilot, Kendi kicked the window as hard as he could. The tough plastic cracked. One more kick and it shattered. Sejal dove out of the room. Kendi followed. If the woman wanted to follow suit, that was her business. Kendi refused to worry about her.

The alley behind the hotel was dark and smelly. Kendi wondered if every alley in the Unity was the same as he and Sejal scrambled to their feet and sprinted for all they were worth. They emerged from the alley and threaded their way through the market crowd. After a few meters, Kendi grabbed Sejal’s shirt.

“Slow down,” he hissed.

Sejal obeyed, and the crowd obligingly closed around them. Without hurrying or looking back, Kendi strode briskly up the street, towing Sejal with him. After he was sure they weren’t being followed, he hauled Sejal into a restaurant and sat him down in a booth.

“Hey!” Sejal growled. “Just who the hell do you think—”

“I think,” Kendi growled back, “that I saved your ass. Twice. And I think that means you owe me some of your precious time. Or do you want to complain to the guard?”

Sejal said nothing.

“All right.” Kendi settled back into his chair, trying to get his pounding heart back under control and folding his arms across his chest so his hands wouldn’t shake. He had acted purely on impulse, and only now were the possible consequences catching up with him. If he had been caught, he’d have been thrown back into Unity prison. The memory of a writhing figure and a muffled scream flashed through his mind, and he shoved them away.

“So what do you want?” Sejal asked warily.

“A beer,” Kendi muttered, and punched up the table’s menu. He ordered the first alcoholic beverage that appeared under his fingertips, and sweetened kelp juice for Sejal. “Look, Sejal—”

“How do you know my name?”

“We talked to your mother.”

Sejal leaned across the table. “You stay the hell away from my mother,” he hissed. “Lay one finger on her and I’ll cut off your—”

“Hey, I’m on your side,” Kendi interrupted. “Look, let’s cut the tough street kid act. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you flashed a knife at my balls, all right?”

Sejal grudgingly leaned back again.

“All I want to do is talk,” Kendi continued. “I have some questions.”

“Like what?” Sejal asked warily.

“Did you possess those cops in the alley? And the one in the hotel?”

Sejal’s blue eyes shifted. He didn’t answer.

Kendi sighed. The kid was distrustful, but probably with good reason. He glanced around. The booth afforded them a certain amount of privacy, and there weren’t any other patrons within hearing range.

“Look,” Kendi said, “I’m not a Unity guard or a spy or a slaver. My name is Kendi Weaver. I’m a Child of Irfan.”

“Who’s Irfan?” Sejal asked.

“We’re an order of monks.” Kendi met Sejal’s gaze square on, willing himself to look trustworthy and honest. “We find people who are Silent and we train them.”

A strange looked passed over Sejal’s face. “I’m not Silent. I was tested for it at birth.”

“Sejal, only the Silent can possess other people like—well, not like you do, but similar to the way you do.”

“I’m not Silent,” Sejal repeated stubbornly.

“Listen.” Kendi leaned forward. “Do you sometimes hear voices whispering at you? Voices you can’t quite hear?”

Sejal’s eyes went wide. “How did you know that?”

“When you dream at night, is it sometimes so real, you wake up and it feels like you’re still dreaming?”

“Yes,” Sejal almost whispered.

“You’re Silent.”

Sejal bit his lip. The shifty arrogance had left his face and he looked like a frightened twelve-year-old instead of a streetwise teenager. “The Unity ran tests when I was born. If I was Silent, I’d be a slave right now.”

Kendi held a hand out over the table. “Try this,” he said.

Looking even more bewildered than ever, Sejal took Kendi’s hand. A jolt banged through Kendi’s arm and crashed down his spine. Sejal gasped and yanked his hand away. Kendi sat stunned. A serving tray scuttled up to the booth and placed their drinks on the table. Both Sejal and Kendi ignored them.

“What the fuck?” Sejal said hoarsely.

Kendi shook his head. It felt as if every vertabra in his spine had fused for a split second. He had never felt a jolt that strong before.

“What the hell was that?” Sejal demanded.

Kendi cleared his throat. “The Silent touch,” he said. “It happens when you touch flesh-to-flesh with another Silent old enough to reach the Dream.”

“Every time?” Sejal asked, eyes wide.

“The first time,” Kendi clarified. “And once you touch another Silent, you’ll usually be able to find them when you’re both in the Dream.”

Sejal stared. “That’s being Silent? That and the voices?”

“That’s part of it,” Kendi said.

Sejal blinked hard and remained quiet for a moment. It took Kendi a second to realize that Sejal was holding back tears. Kendi’s chest welled with sympathy. Poor kid. His childhood had obviously been hard, he’d been selling himself on the street, and now Kendi was scaring the life out of him.

“Hey, it’s all right,” Kendi soothed. ”Being Silent is a gift. We can teach you—”

“It’s not that,” Sejal said in a thick voice. “I’m relieved. God, it’s a fucking relief.”

Now Kendi blinked. “A relief?”

“About six months ago,” Sejal said, swiping at his eyes with quick fingers, “I started hearing voices whispering in my head. Some days they got so loud I couldn’t even hear myself think. I couldn’t tell anyone—they’d think I was crazy. I thought I was. Now you pop up and tell me—show me—that I’m not.”

“You’re not crazy,” Kendi said with an emphatic nod. “But you are Silent.”

“So if I’m Silent,” Sejal emphasized the two words as if he were tasting them, “why didn’t I show up on the Unity gene scans?”

Kendi shook his head. “That I don’t know. It may be an old-fashioned mistake.”

“Maybe,” Sejal said dubiously. “So what do we do now?”

 “Now we—”

“Kendi,” came Ben’s voice in his ear. “Kendi, are you there?”

Kendi held up a hand to Sejal. “I’m here,” he subvocalized. “What’s going on?”

“Trouble,” Ben said. “You and Sejal are on a wanted list for the Unity guard.,”

“What? Shit!”

“Was there a raid on a hotel in the market?”

“Yeah. I almost got caught in it. Why?”

“One of the guards had a camera. Standard Unity procedure on a vice bust in case someone gets away—like you did. Your and Sejal’s pictures are on the nets. You’re wanted for unlawful solicitation, breaking and entering, malicious destruction of property, assault of a guard officer, and resisting arrest.”

“What’s going on?” Sejal asked. “Who are you talking to?”

“We’ve got to get moving,” Kendi said, rising and throwing a kesh on the table for the untouched drinks. “The Unity’s looking for us.”

Without a word, Sejal followed Kendi out of the restaurant. Kendi eeled through the crowd outside, trying to glance in all directions at once. Every muscle was taut with tension. The crowd, however, seemed content to ignore them. If anyone recognized them as fleeing felons, no one gave any indication. Kendi refused to relax. The general populace may not be up on the latest wanted pictures from the guard, but the guard itself was, and the guard would have ocular implants just like Kendi’s that would alert them if any wanted criminals passed through their line of sight.

“Where are we going?” Sejal asked.

“Kendi, what are you doing?” Ben asked almost simultaneously.

“I’m heading for the ship,” Kendi replied to them both.

oOo

 “He what?” Ara screeched.

“He interfered in a Unity raid,” Ben replied calmly. “Kendi got Sejal out of there before they would have been arrested.”

“That idiot,” Ara fumed, nearly knocking her coffee cup off the console in her quarters. Ben stood in the doorway.

“Idiot?” Ben echoed, confused. “Kendi saved Sejal from the guard.”

“And caused us a hell of a lot of trouble.” Ara closed her eyes, trying to bring her temper under control. Once, just once, she wished Kendi would think before he acted.

“I don’t see how—”

“If the Unity had arrested Sejal,” Ara said in a level voice, “we could have bailed him out. Sejal would be grateful. Vidya would be grateful. Sejal would want to come with us. Everybody wins. Now they’re both wanted and we’re in up to our necks.”

“Well, in any case, he’s headed back here with Sejal.”

Ara bolted to her feet, and this time the coffee cup went crashing to the floor. “He’s what? Shit! Ben, get on the transmitter and tell him to stay the hell away. Go! Hurry!”

Ben fled. Ara rushed into the corridor behind him, pulling her purple trader’s tunic over her clothes as she went.

“Peggy-Sue,” Ara barked, “open intercom channel to Brother Pitr. Pitr, grab two sets of slave shackles and two brother’s robes. Meet me down at the main hatchway on the double! Move!”

“All right, Mother,” Pitr’s voice said. “But what—”

“Peggy-Sue,” Ara interrupted, “close channel and open intercom to Harenn Mashib. Harenn, emergency. Meet me down at the main hatchway with a medical kit, and I mean yesterday!”

“Obeying,” Harenn replied instantly.

“Peggy-Sue, close channel and open intercom to Ben Rymar.” Ara reached the lift, decided not to wait for it, and started down the ladder instead. Ceramic clanged beneath her hurried feet. “Ben, have you gotten hold of Kendi yet?”

“Yes, Mother. He and Sejal are in the spaceport. Kendi wants to know why—”

“Where’s the first place the guard will come looking for Kendi?” she snapped. “God, I can’t believe that boy’s stupidity today. Tell him to find someplace to hide. We’ll be there shortly. Peggy-Sue, close channel and open intercom to Jack Jameson. Jack, we’re going to have company pretty soon and they’re going to ask a lot of questions. I want you to keep your mouth shut. You don’t have any idea where Kendi is, or where I am.”

“But I don’t have any idea where Kendi—”

“Meanwhile, I want you, Gretchen, Ben, and Trish to get the ship ready for takeoff. You might only have a few seconds’ warning, so I want the bridge staffed at all times. Clear?”

“Clear. But—”

“Peggy-Sue, close channel.” Ara reached the bottom of the ladder and all but flew down to the main hatchway. On the way she met up with Harenn. Harenn’s veil was slightly askew, and she carried a briefcase-sized medical kit.

“What happens, Mother?” Harenn asked in a breathless voice.

Ara was about to explain when Pitr’s solid form hurried up, his arms piled with cloth.

“Slave shackles?” Ara asked.

“Under the robes,” Pitr replied.

Ara opened the hatchway. “Peggy-Sue, activate magnetic locks ship-wide and open them for no one but me or Brother Kendi.”

“Acknowledged,” the computer said.

Ara waved Pitr and Harenn through the hatch and shut it. A faint hum indicated the magnetic locks were active. The landing field, carefully gridded with precise yellow lines, stretched around them in all directions. Ships of varying shapes and sizes rested like giant insects, one to a square. Transports carrying fuel and cargo zipped over the aerogel asphalt. Overhead, the sun burned in a cloudless sky.

“Ben,” Ara sub-vocalized, “where’s Kendi hiding?”

In response, a red trail overlaid itself on her field of vision as Ben uploaded directions to her ocular implant.

“What happens, Mother?” Harenn demanded again. “We need to know.”

“It’s Kendi.” Ara said, and strode off along the trail. She explained with short, terse phrases as they went. Pitr whistled under his breath.

“Are any Unity guard coming now?” Harenn wanted to know.

“They’re demanding entrance at the ship,” Ben said. “They said Kendi and Sejal are wanted for assaulting an officer. That makes them high priority.”

“Stall,” Ara ordered. “Tell them the locks are malfunctioning.”

“Acknowledged.”

The red trail lead Ara into the spaceport proper, a large, flat building filled with customs offices, air traffic controls, and who-knew-what. The air inside was cool, and the volume of voices rose considerably when they entered. Ara followed the trail to a private restroom that offered showers as well as toilet facilities.

“Well, that’s one intelligent decision he made,” Ara muttered, and thumbed the chime.

“It’s occupied,” said a strange voice, and it took Ara a moment to recognize it as Sejal’s.

“Let us in,” Ara snapped. “Quick!”

The door slid open. Ara, Pitr, and Harenn ducked inside. Kendi and Sejal sat on narrow benches within. The cubicle was tiny, too small for five people, so Ara turned to Pitr.

“Wait outside and play guard,” she said. He set down his bundle of cloth and left.

“Ben told me what’s going on,” Kendi said. “And I don’t want a lecture, Mother. I’d do everything exactly the same way if I had to do it again, so don’t waste your breath shouting.”

“Who the hell are you?” Sejal broke in.

Ara drew herself up, trying to reign in her temper. “I’m Mother Adept Araceil of the Children of Irfan.”

“Okay,” Sejal grunted. “What’s that mean to me?”

“It means,” Harenn said, “that she can take you off this planet.”

“I’m not going anywhere if she—” Sejal pointed a finger at Ara “—gets Kendi in trouble.”

Kendi shot Ara a smug look, and it took all her willpower not to smack him. Later, she told herself. We’ll hash this out later.

“Sejal,” she said in a calm voice, “you and Kendi are both at grave risk. We have to get you off Rust, and quickly, before the Unity gets hold of you. Harenn—your kit.”

“What about my mom?” Sejal said as Harenn opened her medical kit. “I can’t just leave her.”

That stopped Ara dead. She had been concentrating so hard on Sejal, she had completely forgotten about Vidya.

“We can come back for her later,” Ara said. “The Children of Irfan usually offer relatives work at—”

“Just leave her? What are you, nuts?” Sejal said incredulously. “She’s my mother!”

“Hey, it’s all right,” Kendi said, laying a hand on Sejal’s shoulder. “We’ll send another team later.”

“No!” Sejal shook off Kendi’s hand and scrambled to his feet. He was almost a full head taller than Ara, and she was forced to look up at him. “I’m not leaving without—”

“All right,” Ara broke in quickly. “We won’t leave until we talk to her. Ben, how are things at the ship?”

“Who’s Ben?” Sejal demanded.

“Jack’s still stalling,” Ben reported. “Trish is in the Dream helping him by whispering at the guard to keep them calmed down.”

“Good. Can you patch me through to the Unity communication system and connect me with Vidya Dasa?”

“It’ll take a minute,” Ben said doubtfully. “The Unity’s monitoring us pretty closely right now. I have to change channels and masks every few seconds.”

“You’re wonderful, Ben,” Ara told him. “Let me know when you have her on.”

“What are you doing?” Sejal asked.

Ara wedged herself next to him on the hard, narrow bench. “I’m setting up a call with your mother. Meanwhile, I want you to put these robes on and let Harenn work on you.”

“Work on me?” Sejal echoed, looking a little bewildered. Now that Ara had promised to contact Vidya, most of his belligerence had faded. Ara herself had also calmed down a little, and it came to her that she was sitting next to the person she might have to kill. She swallowed, wanting to edge away from him on the bench, put some distance between them, but there was no room.

“I will change your face, Sejal,” Harenn said. “Hair and eyes, perhaps your nose and forehead. Come by the mirror. There will be no pain.”

Sejal glanced at Kendi, who nodded. Everyone remained silent while Harenn worked. She lumped coagulant paste over Sejal’s nose and forehead and worked it like a sculptor. The material was normally used to seal cuts and other wounds, but in sufficient quantities, it could be used for short-term cosmetic alterations. When Harenn took her hands away, the paste faded and matched itself to Sejal’s skin color. His profile had been altered significantly, with a longer nose and thicker forehead. Next, Harenn had Sejal cover his face while she sprayed his hair with a strong disinfectant. She waited one minute, then told him to rinse off in the sink. When he finished, his hair was several shades lighter, almost blond.

“Now you, Kendi,” Ara said.

Kendi wordlessly submitted to Harenn’s ministrations, though he refused to look at Ara. Before Harenn finished, Ben came on over Ara’s earpiece again.

“The Unity guard are demanding entrance,” he said. “They’re going to damage the ship if we don’t get the door open.”

Ara gritted her teeth. “Peggy-Sue, are you monitoring?”

“On line,” the computer said.

“Peggy-Sue, release hatchway magnetic locks. Then initiate file lockdown and scramble, priority one.”

“Working.”

“Mother!” Ben yelped. “What are you doing?”

“Kendi and Sejal aren’t on board, Ben,” Ara explained. “Let the guard look. Tell Jack to spread some chocolate and kesh around if he thinks it’ll help. I just wanted to stall.”

“Acknowledged. Vidya Dasa is on the line. Keep it short, Mother. I’ll have to terminate the connection once the guard reaches the bridge, assuming your file scramble doesn’t do it first.”

Ara ran a lead from her earpiece to a speaker set into the wall for just this purpose. “Ms. Dasa?” Ara said.

“Where’s my son?” Vidya demanded without preamble.

“I’m here, Mom,” Sejal said. “Can you hear me? I’m all right.”

“Release him now,” Vidya snapped. “Harm one hair and you will pay.”

“Ms. Dasa, we’re trying to help,” Ara said as calmly as she could. She could already imagine the black-booted feet of the guard tromping through her ship, turning the rooms upside-down, flinging possessions to the floor. “There isn’t time for long explanations. Your son is in trouble with the Unity. So is my appren—so is Brother Kendi.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Ara saw Kendi’s expression darken. Her verbal slip hadn’t been lost on him.

“We need to get Sejal—and you—to safety,” Ara concluded. “Can you meet us somewhere?”

“Mom, it’s okay,” Sejal interjected. “Kendi helped me out of a tough spot. I trust him.”

Pause.

“Where are you?” Vidya asked.

“I’d rather not say on this channel,” Ara said.

“Then how can we arrange a meeting?”

“Mom,” Sejal put in, “meet us at the monster building. You remember where that is?”

Another pause. “I remember. I’ll be there in fifteen—”

“Guard’s coming,” Ben cut in. “Good luck.”

The com line went dead.

“Monster building?” Kendi asked.

Sejal grinned. “It’s an office not far from here. They built it when I was little. Mom and I were walking past when they sprayed it up, and I thought it looked like a monster coming up out of the ground. We always called it the monster building after that.”

“Then let’s go,” Ara said, disconnecting the lead. “But first put these on.”

She handed Sejal and Kendi each a brown robe. After they put them on, Harenn sprayed some of the cloth with disinfectants to discolor the fabric while Ara tore holes. Then she held up sets of shackles. Each set was made of one large collar and four smaller ones.

“This one’s for the neck,” she told Sejal, indicating the large collar. “The others are for wrists and ankles.”

“I know how they work,” Sejal said. “What are they for?”

“No one looks twice at poor, bedraggled slaves,” Kendi said in a bitter voice. “Come on.”

Sejal swiftly donned the shackles. Kendi put his on more slowly. Ara clipped the master unit—a box the size of a fist—prominently to her belt.

“It isn’t activated,” she said. “But stay close.”

Ara braced herself for a smart remark from Kendi, but he said nothing. The lack was surprisingly jarring. Hiding her consternation, she slid open the door and greeted Pitr. He raised an eyebrow at Kendi and Sejal’s changed appearance but said nothing. They set off through the port, Kendi and Sejal walking humbly to the rear, heads low beneath their ragged hoods. Ara’s heart jumped every time she saw a guard, but they ignored the little group as they processed to the exit.

“Now where?” Ara murmured.

Following Sejal’s quiet directions, they proceeded up the crowded street. Ground cars honked, flit cars swooshed, and starships rumbled. The heavy air smelled of sweat and fuel. A pair of Unity guards stood silent watch by the door, and Ara casually turned her face away from them. Her back felt exposed, and she had to force herself to walk at a normal pace.

The monster building looked much like all the other buildings around it—tall, gray, and blocky. Vidya, tight-faced, was standing near the main entrance. It took her a moment to recognize Sejal. She started forward, apparently intending to grab her son, then aborted the motion, opting instead to wait for the group to approach.

“A small courtyard is in back of the building,” Vidya told them. “It remains empty at this time of day.”

Ara nodded and followed Vidya around the office building to the rear, where a little cobblestoned area occupied space between the buildings. Little sunlight reached the place, and a tired-looking tree drooped over a wooden bench. Food containers littered the stones. Kendi and Sejal started to take the bench until Pitr caught Kendi’s arm.

“Slaves sit on the ground,” he said gruffly.

Kendi’s eyes went icy, but he nodded and sat. Sejal joined him. Vidya stiffly took the bench between Ara and Pitr.

“Are you all right, Sejal?” she said. “What have you done to yourself?”

“I’m fine, Mom. It’s a disguise.”

Ara blinked. Sejal’s manner had changed. Gone was the tough street kid she had met in the tiny restroom. His posture was less belligerent, his voice quieter. Even his word choice was different. Was the street persona a mask? A personality he had created while working the streets? Or was the street kid the real Sejal and this one the fabrication?

“Why is the Unity looking for you?” Vidya asked. “What did you do, Sejal?”

A red flush crept up Sejal’s face.

“He’s Silent,” Kendi said quickly.

“He is not Silent,” Vidya snarled.

“Yes I am, Mom,” Sejal said. “Kendi showed me. He proved it.”

“Impossible!”

“Mom—”

“Ms. Dasa,” Ara asked in a soft voice, “your son has a very powerful form of Silence. He already has abilities I’ve never even seen before. Why are you so sure he isn’t Silent?”

Vidya glared at Ara. Her jaw worked back and forth for a long moment.

“I know about the other children,” Ara said, voice still soft.

“What other—” Pitr began, but Ara raised a hand and hushed him.

“Ms. Dasa—Vidya,”Ara continued, “I know about your contract with Silent Acquisitions. I know about your other babies, and I know your husband disappeared.”

“Prasad,” Vidya whispered. Her brown face had paled.

“Who’s Prasad?” Sejal asked from the stony ground.

“He’s your father,” Ara said.

Vidya’s face abruptly twisted into a mask of rage. “How dare you? How dare you come into my life like this? After I have worked so hard to make everything safe? How dare you tell us these horrible things?”

“You’re not denying them,” Ara pointed out. “Vidya, we don’t have a lot of time. It boils down to this: the Unity guard is looking to arrest your son. We can take him—and you—off-planet to escape. We need you to decide.”

“The Unity guard doesn’t arrest the Silent,” Vidya snapped. “Slavers do. Why is the guard looking for him?”

“He is a prostitute,” Harenn said bluntly.

Vidya’s mouth fell open. Her expression said Harenn’s remark had been worse than a slap. After a moment, she whirled on Sejal.

“Is this true?” she demanded.

“Mom, I—”

Vidya reached down and grabbed him by the shoulders. “How can you do such a thing?” she cried. “When I have worked to make our neighborhood a safe place for you? How could you be so ungrateful?”

A dozen emotions washed across Sejal’s face. “Is that all you care about? It’s always about the neighborhood. ‘You have to be a good son of the neighborhood, Sejal. You have to be a model for the neighborhood children, Sejal. The neighborhood must be safe. The neighborhood must be clean.’ The neighborhood, the neighborhood. Who gives a shit?”

Vidya slapped him. Sejal fell silent. “The neighborhood let you grow up, boy,” she hissed at him. “I built the neighborhood for you, so you would always be safe.”

Something clicked in Ara’s head. “Because it wasn’t safe for Katsu and Prasad?” she said. “Because it wasn’t safe for your husband and your daughter?”

Vidya snatched her hands back and folded them in her lap. Her head bowed.

“What daughter?” Sejal asked. A red mark from Vidya’s slap was darkening on his face. Sejal’s jaw trembled, and Ara couldn’t tell whether it was from anger or tears. “Mom, what’s going on? Who are Prasad and Katsu? Why can’t I be Silent? You have to tell!”

Vidya remaind motionless for a long moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was steady. “You can’t be Silent, my son, because I arranged it to be so.”

“What do you mean?” Sejal whispered.

“Your father’s name is Prasad Vajhur,” Vidya said. “You also have two brothers, but I don’t know their names. We had to give them to the Unity.”

“What about Silent Acquisitions?” Pitr asked.

“Our original contract was with them,” Vidya answered. Her voice was flat, emotionless. “It was hard. When the Unity blighted Rust, there was no food anywhere. Prasad and I were starving, and we knew we would die soon. Both of us, however, carry the genes for Silence. We are not Silent ourselves, but any children born between us will be. This includes you, Sejal.”

“But—” Sejal began.

“Let me,” Vidya said. “Silent Acquisitions offered us food, shelter, medicine, and money in exchange for two babies. The condition was harsh, but at the time it seemed a better choice than painful death. If I had known then how difficult it would one day be, I would have let myself die with Prasad beside me.”

“But you didn’t know,” Ara said.

“I was young and we were dying.” Vidya’s hands twisted in her lap. “Less than a week after Prasad and I signed the contract, the government surrendered to the Unity, and the Unity took over our contract. It dictated new terms, and we could do nothing. The money was reduced to a fraction. The first contract promised we would have housing and medical care for a year after the second child was born, but a month afterward, we were on the street. I don’t know how, but Prasad found work as a garbage collector. We had two tiny rooms in a half-ruined apartment building, a single small income, and I was pregnant again.”

Vidya fell silent again. Sejal stared at his mother as if hypnotized.

“That must have been Katsu,” Ara nudged.

“Yes. She was a beautiful baby, and all ours. The Unity knew she was Silent, but I managed to convince myself that the ten years I would have with her before they took her away would be a far, far better thing than losing babies I never had the chance to hold.”

“But you eventually realized that wasn’t the case,” Ara said. “So you arranged a fake kidnaping, hoping to hide Katsu someplace safe.”

Vidya looked at Ara, genuinely surprised. “The kidnaping was very real. When she was nine months old, someone broke into our rooms. They took my little Katsu. I woke up in the morning and realized she hadn’t cried all night. My first thought was that she had slept through the night, but then I found her empty bed.” Vidya’s voice had gone flat again. “Prasad was...I don’t think I can describe it. He wanted to run in a thousand directions at once. I begged him to let the guard find her, but Prasad insisted that he had a better chance, that he knew the neighborhood better. He left, and he didn’t come back. I reported him missing as well. A week later, he was still missing, and I realized I was pregnant again.”

“Me?” Sejal said.

Vidya nodded. “You. I was sure whoever had kidnapped Katsu had killed Prasad, and that they would come next for this baby and for me. So I ran.”

“You changed your name to Vidya Dasa,” Ara put in. “Easy to do, since the Annexation damaged so many records.”

“Yes. I took part of Prasad’s name and made it mine and his son’s. Perhaps that was a mistake.”

“But if your genes make every child you and Prasad have Silent,” Kendi asked, “why were you so sure Sejal wasn’t?”

“I arranged it to be so,” Vidya said.

“What?” Sejal said. “How?”

“When you were less than two months in the womb,” Vidya told him, “I found a...man. A genegineer. He said he could make a retrovirus. The virus would alter your genes and render you non-Silent.”

“A lie,” Harenn said flatly. “Such changes are only possible for an embryo less than two weeks old. For a fetus, it is not.”

“This was a new procedure,” Vidya said. “He wanted a test subject, but could find none. Making a valuable Silent into a worthless non-Silent would be highly illegal in the Unity. Because of this, he was willing to perform the procedure without payment. And it worked. When Sejal was born, the Unity doctor scanned him for Silence and found none. I was so happy.”

Sejal shifted on the cobblestones. “But I’m Silent, Mom. I touched Kendi, and something exploded in my head. He said only the Silent feel that.”

“We’ll have to figure that out later,” Ara said.

“I didn’t want my son to disappear,” Vidya continued as if no one had spoken. “The genegineer gave me secret money in exchange for permission to examine Sejal from time to time, which let me stay away from tax collectors, but the only place I could afford to live was a neighborhood as bad as the one where Katsu had disappeared. Drug dealers, gangs, and thieves were everywhere, and the Unity did nothing to stop them. But one day I realized the good people in the neighborhood, the ordinary ones, outnumbered the bad, and I remembered a thing Prasad had told me when we were walking to Ijhan during the famine. He said that our old community had been destroyed. To survive, we had to build another.

“I talked to my neighbors and united the building I lived in. Then the building next to us joined us, and the next and the next. We threw out the gangs and built a wall out of scraps and ruins to ensure they would stay out. We repaired everything we could and cleaned what we couldn’t. Our neighborhood was a proud place, and it was as safe as I could make it.”

Vidya stopped speaking and looked at Sejal. “Though I didn’t make it safe enough,” she added, voice heavy with sadness instead of anger. “How could you do this thing? I thought you were a good son, a son I could be proud of.”

Sejal flinched as if he’d been dealt a physical blow. “And you were a great mother?” he snarled. “Do you know what my first memory is? Sitting on the floor at a damn neighborhood meeting. You were talking to other people and ignoring me. You’re always talking, Mom, and it’s always to someone besides...besides me. You talk, but you sure as hell don’t listen.”

“I talked and I worked,” Vidya cried, “so you would never have to worry about being attacked in the street or stolen away from your family.”

“What family?” Sejal shot back. “All my life, you were doing something for the neighborhood. When were you home to make us a family?”

“I was home always,” Vidya said, looking shocked. “The neighborhood was my job. The collections paids our rent. The neighborhood—”

“I don’t give a shit about the neighborhood,” Sejal shouted. “Don’t you know anything?”

“I know my son has been selling himself on the street.”

“I was doing it for us,” Sejal said, voice cracking. “I was trying to earn enough money to get us off this slimy rockball. Just us. Not the neighborhood, not anyone else. For once I wanted something for just us.”

Tears ran down Sejal’s face. Ara squirmed on the bench, acutely wishing she were somewhere, anywhere, else. The looks on Pitr’s and Kendi’s faces proved they felt the same way. Harenn was hidden behind her veil, and suddenly Ara realized how handy such an item must be. She cast about for something to say that could end the argument, but for once she was at a loss.

“What you did was a form of slavery,” Vidya replied in a cold voice.

“It was either that or deal drugs, Mom.”

“It was a terrible thing,” Vidya said stubbornly.

“I only sold myself, Mom,” Sejal snapped. “You sold your children.”

Kendi gasped. Vidya fell silent. Her hands stopped twisting in her lap, as frozen as her face. Sejal froze as well. His words hung in the air. Time and silence stretched unbearably. Ara wanted to crawl under one of the cobblestones.

“Take him,” Vidya whispered.

“What?” Ara said.

“Mother?” Ben asked in Ara’s earpiece. “Mother, are you there?”

“Take him with you,” Vidya repeated, still whispering. “I have failed as a mother. Take him and train him and do whatever else you do.”

“Mom—” Sejal began.

“No, Sejal,” Vidya interrupted. “You are right, and you must go.”

“Mother?” Ben said.

“What is it, Ben?” Ara subvocalized.

“It took me a while to get everything back on line after your file scramble, or I would’ve called earlier. The guard have left the ship. They didn’t find anything, but they’ve posted half a dozen officers outside. I don’t know how you’re going to get in.”

“We’ll worry about that in a minute,” Ara replied, and was suddenly filled with an impulse to rush back to the Post Script so she could hug Ben hard. “Stand by.”

“You can come with us, Vidya,” Kendi said. “You don’t have to stay here.”

Vidya shook her head. “I have...responsibilities I must attend to.”

“The neighborhood,” Sejal spat.

“No, Sejal.” Vidya got up. “I have to talk to the man who...made you what you are. There are questions he must answer. And none of you can wait for me.” She reached down and pulled Sejal to his feet. He rose reluctantly.

“Sejal, I love you, and you must go,” she said, and embraced him quickly. “And I am not leaving you forever. I will find a way to join you when I am done here.”

“The monastery is on a world called Bellerophon in the Independence Confederation,” Ara said, rising to her feet. “Once we get out of the Unity, I’ll leave notices about you. When you get out yourself, ask in any public place or on any public network how to contact me—Mother Adept Araceil—and the Children of Irfan. Eventually one of our people will hear of you and take you to us.”

Vidya nodded.

“And now,” Ara finished, “we must leave.”

Sejal and Vidya hugged once more, and a lump rose in Ara’s throat. She had said good-bye to Ben often enough, and more than once had wondered if she’d never see him again. Kendi lead Sejal away, leaving Vidya at the bench. Sejal’s face remained rigid, and Ara didn’t try to speak to him—she was sure he was controlling tears he didn’t want to shed.

As they were leaving the courtyard, Sejal suddenly stopped.

“Mom, there’s a loose floorboard in the back of my closet,” he said over his shoulder. “Put your finger in the knot and pull it up.” Then he stiffly started walking again before Vidya could reply.