The work at school was full on, and got more and more difficult for us as the year progressed. My stratum got into the habit of logging on in the evenings to figure out anything we hadn’t understood in class. Clemmie and Ginevra often joined in as well. A couple of times a week, Oban would come over to act as our tutor, and Nash was almost always there in the background to help if we asked.
‘You’re no slug, mate,’ Yin told him at the end of one of our physics discussions.
No, he wasn’t. It was good having him around in the evenings too, because during the day he was away from the house for long hours, working on a project to establish a farming hub just to the south of the city, and I missed his company.
At the end of July, word went round that Vima and James had looked after Jovan for the weekend. ‘So you’re all still talking?’ I asked Vima.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Sometimes it really hurts and I think I’ll die, but sometimes too I find I haven’t even thought about him for a whole day. That was kind of freaky the first time it happened. But it’s good. Getting better is good.’
They looked after Jovan again in August when Sina’s baby came early, before her parents could get there. The new baby was another little boy. ‘He’s so tiny,’ Vima said. ‘But he’s going to be fine.’
She looked better, as if she’d settled something in her mind.
The year rolled onwards, and every week I looked forward to the Sunday afternoons that were our allotted free time away from study. By now I was spending them with Nash. Sometimes we’d go on an outing with Oban and Ginevra, but they were in love and didn’t require the company of others. Sometimes we’d go to one of the beaches, or we’d explore the wild parks in the city, but one winter Sunday I asked Nash if we could go to the land he was working on.
He said, ‘Sure, it’s a bit of a walk though.’
That didn’t worry me.
A cool wind blew a skittering rain at us, as we walked out beyond the city’s edges.
‘There,’ Nash said at last. ‘I’m in charge of bringing all that flat land back into production. Hard yakka, but we’re inching our way forward.’
We were looking down into a valley, at the bottom of which was a stream running through a flattish area choked with scrub, gorse and weeds. ‘Wow,’ I gasped. ‘That’s a mess.’
He nudged my elbow. ‘Come on, I’ll show you what we’ve done so far. We’re making progress. You’ll see.’
The clear patch of land looked pitifully tiny to me, but over the next few months we came back several times on a Sunday and the cleared area seemed to more than double with each visit.
Once or twice I’d catch Mother looking at Nash and me, and I knew she was hoping we’d marry. But I didn’t feel like that about him. He was my brother, not my boyfriend, and that suited both of us.
November arrived and exams began, spanning a week and two days. The only bright spot was getting English over and done with on the first day, though the exam was no worse than the school ones had been. All of us were cautiously hopeful of scraping through with a pass. But by the time we’d finished genetic biology on the last day, we were wrung out and exhausted.
I looked forward each day to Nash coming home. His presence was undemanding and soothing.
Results were due out three days before Christmas. With each day of waiting we became more and more convinced we’d failed.
‘Just one lousy mark,’ Fortun said, ‘and we can’t do our volunteer year next year.’
We’d already got the job we applied for, which was to travel the country to take a census of isolated groups and record their stories. Ginevra and Clemmie were to be part of our group as well. So was Oban, even though he didn’t need to do a volunteer year.
‘Exploring and working,’ he said. ‘Sorry if you don’t want me, guys, but I’m coming anyway.’
On results day I kept checking and re-checking the website, even though it clearly said Results will be posted at 10:00 hours. Log in using your exam code.
Ten o’clock arrived and I couldn’t look, couldn’t key in my code. One by one, the rest of my stratum started yelling and jumping. They’d all passed, every single one of them.
Then they started yelling at me. ‘Just do it. Put yourself out of your misery.’
I couldn’t. I sat frozen, staring at the screen. Nash knocked on my door and came in. I snarled at him. ‘Why aren’t you at work?’
He took the slip with the code on it from my hand and keyed in the numbers. I couldn’t look as he scanned through the results, but I didn’t block my ears. ‘Five subjects, five passes. Some with merit, one with distinction.’ He patted my shoulder.
‘We did it!’ Silvern was shouting loud enough to crack windows. ‘All of us! We bloody did it!’
I couldn’t say anything. The tears running down my face were making it hard to check that Nash had got it right. But there it was – five passes.
‘Okay everybody,’ Marba said looking like he now understood feelings of triumph, satisfaction and plain old happiness. ‘I’m off. Let’s talk again the day after Christmas. We’ll need to start planning for next year. 2087. It’s going to be brilliant!’
I logged off, then swivelled round to Nash. ‘How come you just happened not to go to work this morning? And how come you just happened to know I’d be too scared to look at my results?’
He laughed and said, ‘I figured you might need a hand.’ Which didn’t tell me anything.
I wished the sessions with Willem had dealt with how to understand somebody who kept you at a friendly distance, because now that I wasn’t so focused on study, I was finding Nash frustrating rather than soothing. Was he happy? Was he still grieving for his family? Did he want to move on again, or did he feel settled enough to make his home in this city? I would have liked to talk to him about all of that, but he guarded his privacy and warded off any attempt to fully understand him. Ah well, his state of mind was none of my business and I’d be leaving soon anyway. He was quite capable of looking out for himself.
My family threw themselves into the preparations for my departure. The grandfathers made me a pair of sturdy boots. Dad taught me which plants we could safely eat, which ones to avoid and which ones we could use for medicine. Mother and Leebar sewed clothes for me. Sometimes I felt as if there was nothing for me to do, so I spent the time with Hera. She was going to change so much in a year.
When he could, Nash would come with us – not, I felt, for the pleasure of our company, but so that he could tell me the stories of his own travels and pass on the survival skills he’d learnt the hard way. I was sure he did it as a way of thanking my parents for welcoming him into our family rather than because he was concerned for my safety. I never knew what approach he’d take – whether he’d choose to describe lonely roads or whether he’d take it into his head to terrify me with stories of rampaging wild cattle or pigs. If it was animals or other dangers, he’d laugh, pat my head and say, ‘You’re a survivor, Juno. The pig will be in more danger than you will be.’
Once, I asked, ‘Did you ever go back to where you grew up?’
That question wrecked the day. ‘Yes,’ he said, and changed the subject, vanishing behind a wall of bleakness.
I learned my lesson and took care never to venture near personal matters again. The important thing was that I trusted him, even though he kept his innermost self locked behind a hedge thick with thorns.
One day when the three of us were at the beach, Hera slid her hand into mine and said, ‘I don’t want you to go away.’
‘I’m coming back, Hera. It’s not forever.’
She stomped on, freeing her hand and holding them both behind her back. ‘I know that, silly. You don’t have to tell me.’
Nash said, ‘She does know that, doesn’t she? She’s not just saying it.’
‘Yep. That’s a Hera prediction,’ I said. ‘And one I’m very happy to hear for once.’
My parents were too when I told them. The worry faded from Mother’s eyes and Dad’s shoulders relaxed. The prospect of being apart for so long had been a strain for all of us, even though Leebar refused to admit it. The nearer the day came, though, the brisker and more matter-of-fact she got. I wasn’t fooled, and knew I would miss her acerbic common sense.
A week before I was due to leave, Mother and Dad sat me down for a serious talk. ‘You’re not even sixteen yet,’ Dad said, ‘so we’re asking you to be careful …’
I felt my face getting hot. ‘You’re worried I might go and fall in love and …’ I wasn’t going to say more about that.
Mother sighed. ‘Yes. We trust you, but it’s going to be hard for you not having elders around you.’
I put up my hands to stop her. ‘I promise you – really promise – that I’ve learnt my lesson about love. I’m not going to get carried away again. If I meet somebody I really, truly like, he’s going to have to wait till I’m eighteen and then he can think about being my boyfriend.’
‘I’m relieved to hear it,’ Mother said. ‘So now all we have to worry about is your physical safety.’ She came round the table to put her arms around me. ‘Do be careful, my daughter. Don’t take risks and always remember we love you.’
Yes, I would be careful. And I would be careful, too, not to tell them of the list of dangerous places Nash had given me, places where the inhabitants chased him away with guns and knives.
The evening before departure day, my family held a farewell feast for me, Oban and Ginevra. When we finished eating, we lingered at the table, talking.
Ginevra said, ‘Things will change while we’re away.’ She looked at her brothers. ‘You guys will be all grown up.’
‘And Nash could be married,’ Leebar said. ‘Twenty-four – practically an old man!’
He smiled but didn’t rise to her teasing. Hera, however, leapt right in. ‘That’s silly, Leebar. Nash won’t get married till Juno gets back. He’s going to marry Juno and I want to dance at the wedding.’
That created a crashing silence. I absolutely wasn’t going to marry Nash – or anyone for that matter. But in the end I said only, ‘Nash is my brother, Hera. You don’t marry your brother.’
She sent me a pitying look. ‘Nash is my brother, not your brother.’
I couldn’t look at Nash, or anyone else. Hera’s predictions were never wrong, but – marrying Nash? I couldn’t love somebody who kept himself so shut off, so guarded. He was a brother, but now, thanks to Hera’s big mouth, that stupid prediction would always be there between us, and nothing would be easy ever again.
Mother stood up. ‘Let’s clear up. And Hera, you will not speak of this again.’
I escaped outside. I didn’t want to marry Nash. I liked him, but he was a friend – a guarded, walled-off friend. There was no spark, no electricity between us. I’d rather not marry at all than marry a comfortable shoe.
Ginevra, Oban and Nash came to find me. ‘Your sister sure knows how to break up a party,’ Ginevra said, keeping her voice light.
Nash sat down on the edge of a raised garden. ‘Don’t worry about it, Juno. Maybe she’s right, maybe she’s not. But it’s up to us to decide what we want to do.’
Oban buffeted his shoulder. ‘And you’re such an old man! Leebar could be right. You could be all snugly married by the time we get back.’
‘Could be,’ he said, all serene and peaceable – and he didn’t believe a word of it.
Ginevra laughed suddenly. ‘Do you think Willem will work with Hera this year about appropriateness?’
‘If he doesn’t think to do it, I’m sure Sheen will be giving him his orders,’ Oban said. ‘Come on, let’s go back inside. They’re settling in for a rowdy card game or two.’
So I spent my last evening at home snatching cards from my opponents, chatting and clowning around. All the time, though, there was an awareness of Nash that hadn’t been there before. He caught me looking at him and crossed his eyes at me, making me laugh. I shrugged away the tension and threw myself into the game.
But the next morning Hera’s prediction was there in my mind as fresh and insistent as ever. I jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes and took myself across to hammer on the door of the sleep-out. Nash opened it immediately – he’d been expecting me.
He didn’t say anything, just followed as I led the way out to the seat under the tree. ‘You think it’s true, don’t you?’ I demanded.
‘Juno, it doesn’t matter what I think.’ He shrugged. ‘No matter what your sister sees in her predictions, there’s still the small matter of free will. Maybe we’ll marry. Maybe we won’t.’
I kicked at his foot. ‘How can you even think about it? You’re my brother, not anything else.’
He took his foot out of range. ‘Who says I’m thinking about it? Not me. I’m not worried. You’re going away for a year. And if you’ll forgive me for pointing out the obvious – you’re much too young to be thinking about marriage.’
So bloody reasonable. And so guarded. I had no clue as to what he really thought. I wrapped my arms around myself so that I wouldn’t thump him. ‘But you’re not too young.’
He stood up. ‘No, and I promise to let you know if I find the right woman while you’re away. But now I’ve got to get myself off to work.’
Before I could stop myself, I asked, ‘You’ll be back in time to say goodbye?’
He turned to face me. ‘Yes. I’ll be there.’
In a couple of seconds he was gone.
I went back into the house, as unsettled as ever. Mother was in the kitchen. She took one look at me and came to hold my shoulders. ‘You can’t get it out of your mind, can you?’
I shook my head. ‘It’s wrong – marrying Nash. It just feels so wrong.’
She pulled me in close for a moment. ‘Sometimes we forget that you’re still very young, my daughter. I think being away for this year will be good for you. Especially being away from Nash. You won’t have to wonder about how to behave around him. You’ll be going from one new experience to the next. There won’t be time to brood.’
I breathed in deeply. ‘Yes. You’re right. Thanks, Mother.’
She kissed my forehead and let me go. ‘Zanin and I discussed it last night. We decided it would be best for Nash to get his own place away from us before you come home again. We don’t want you pressured into anything.’
My voice choked. ‘I’m going to miss you so much.’
She busied herself at the sink. I wanted to tell her I’d be careful, that I wouldn’t take risks, that I knew how much she feared for my safety, but we would both end up in tears if we spoke of it. Leave-taking was harder than I’d imagined it would be and I was dreading saying goodbye to everyone when we boarded the train.
In the end, it wasn’t so bad – thanks to Nash. He arrived with a bunch of bright balloons floating and bobbing over his head.
Hera was entranced, especially when he let her choose one for herself.
‘Yellow,’ she said. ‘I want a yellow balloon.’
He gave one to each of my family and Ginevra’s family, and to Thomas and Gilda. Then he said, ‘Now for the travellers.’ I waited, tensed for a joke about mine being a gift for his future wife, but there was nothing other than the purple balloon. He was keeping his feelings to himself, holding himself at a distance.
Fine. Be like that.
He had instructions for Oban, Ginevra and me. ‘Hang the balloons out the windows and let them go once the train is clear of the station. We’ll do the same with ours.’
‘I bet Hera won’t,’ I muttered.
He laughed. ‘I won’t take you up on that.’
For a moment we slipped back into the old, easy way of being together, but then it was time to board the train.
I was leaving my family for a year, a whole entire year. I pulled the window open and leaned out, my balloon tugging at its string.
‘Goodbye!’
The train began to move, our three balloons bounced in a frenetic dance, and as the train cleared the station we released them.
When we could no longer see our families, or any of the balloons, we sat down and looked at each other.
‘We’re off! Adventure, here we come,’ Oban shouted.
I felt as if I could hardly breathe for excitement. I’d be with my stratum soon. We’d all be together again. Friends, adventure, new places to see and new people to meet – this was everything I’d yearned for when I lived on Taris.
I settled into my seat, letting the nagging worry about marrying Nash fade to nothing as we journeyed south. Much could happen in a year. The prospect of change, of movement and of exploration was exhilarating. Taris was truly in the past, its secrets exposed and put to rest. This was my world now.
If you want to find out what happens to Juno next, got to www.randomhouse.co.nz/heartofdanger and click on the ‘something extra’ link to read ‘Nash’s Story’.