Kinder des Schicksals 4 (Xeelee 9): Resplendent

Hama’s arm.
’Our Spline. So the story goes on for us, my friend.’
    Hama glared down into the ice, at the Xeelee craft buried there.
Yes, the story goes on, he thought. But we have introduced a virus
into the software of the universe. And I wonder what eyes will be
here to see, when that ship is finally freed from this tortured
ice.
    An orifice opened up in the Spline’s immense hide. A flitter
squirted out and soared over Callisto’s ice, seeking a place to
land.
     
    Exhausted, disoriented, Callisto and her followers stumbled down
the last length of trunk and collapsed to the ground.
    She dug her good hand into the loose grains of reality dust. She
felt a surge of pride, of achievement. This island, an island of a
new possibility, was her island now.
    Hers, perhaps, but not empty, she realised slowly. There was a
newborn here: lost, bewildered, suddenly arrived. She saw his face
smoothing over, working with anguish and doubt, as he forgot.
    But when his gaze lit on her, he became animated.
    He tried to stand, to walk towards her. He stumbled, weak and
drained, and fell on his face.
    Dredging up the last of her own strength, she went to him. She dug
her hand under him and turned him on his back - as, once, Pharaoh had
done for her.
    He opened his mouth. Spittle looped between his lips, and his
voice was a harsh rasp. ’Gemo!’ he gasped.
    ’My name is Callisto.’
    ’I am your brother! I made you! Help me! Love me!’
    Something tugged at her: recognition - and resentment.
    She held his head to her chest. ’This won’t hurt,’ she said.
’Close your eyes.’ And she held him, until the last of his unwelcome
memories had leaked away, and, forgetting who he was, he lay
still.
     
    The Coalition, hardened by Hama Druz’s doctrines of constancy and
racial destiny, proved persistent, and determined. Cleansing
themselves of the past, they continued to try to eradicate the
undying, for we collaborators embodied the past. We had to flee, to
hide.
    But our taint of immortality went deeper than those who persecuted
us could know. I, already an elder, found a new role.

 
ALL IN A BLAZE
AD 5478
     
     
    On some level Faya Parz had always known the truth about herself.
In the background of her life there had been bits of family gossip.
And then as she grew older, and her friends began to grey, even
though she had had to give up her Dancing, she stayed supple - as if
she was charmed, time sliding by her, barely touching her.
    But these were subtle things. She had never articulated it to
herself, never framed the thought. On some deeper level she hadn’t
wanted to know.
    She had to meet Luru Parz before she faced it.
    It all came to a head on the day of the Halo Dance.
     
    The amphitheatre was a bowl gouged out of the icy surface of Port
Sol. Of course the amphitheatre was crowded, as it was every four
years for this famous event; there was a sea of upturned faces all
around Faya. She gazed up at the platforms hovering high above, just
under the envelope of the dome itself, where her sister and the other
Dancers were preparing for their performance. And beyond it all the
sun, seen from here at the edge of Sol system, was just a brighter
pinprick in a tapestry of stars, its sharpness softened a little by
the immense dome that spanned the theatre.
    ’… Excuse me.’
    Faya glanced down. A small woman faced her, stocky, broad-faced,
dressed in a nondescript coverall. Faya couldn’t tell her age, but
there was something solid about her, something heavy, despite the
micro-gravity of Port Sol. And she looked oddly familiar.
    The woman smiled at her.
    Faya was staring. ’I’m sorry.’
    ’The seat next to you - ’
    ’It’s free.’
    With slow care, the woman climbed the couple of steps up to Faya’s
row and sat down on the carved and insulated ice. ’You’re Faya Parz,
aren’t you? I’ve seen your Virtuals. You were one of the best Dancers
of all.’
    ’Thank you.’
    ’You wish you were up there now.’
    Faya was used to fans, but this woman was a little unsettling.
’I’m past forty. In the Dance, when you’ve had your day, you must
make way.’
    ’But you are ageing well.’
    It was an odd remark from a stranger. ’My sister’s up there.’
    ’Lieta, yes. Ten years younger. But you could still challenge
her.’
    Faya turned to study the woman. ’I don’t want to be rude, but -
’
    ’But I seem to know a lot about you, don’t I? I don’t mean to put
you at a disadvantage. My name is Luru