Simoom Rising

Chapter Thirty

New Earth
Six months later

Harmony

We were in a leafy green park and I was lying on a blanket beside Travers, who was browsing the brand-new screen we had bought him. I took a deep breath of clean air and felt the sun on my closed eyelids, marvelling at a world so different from the Pit. We weren't entirely free of the dust, of course—its remnants remained embedded in us and allowed Vestra and me to maintain our mind link.

Vestra and I rubbed together well enough these days. We soothed each other's aches and pains—her bullet-grazed shoulder and my bad hip. We tried to be kind to one another. We made each other laugh. And she has been nothing but supportive as I try to give my boy the love and attention he needs right now. Travers emerged from more than a year in jail a bitter and hard-to-reach fifteen-year-old, depressed one moment and lashing out the next. He hasn't been to a proper school since we entered the Pit when he was ten. He doesn't know how to fit in. He doesn't know how to be.

I was worried about Vestra. To go so fast from being single to having a family with a troubled adolescent, from a thriving career to resigning from WAVE-Sec, and with we three living in each other's heads all the time, I didn't know how she could be so even-tempered, but she was.

It helped that, with our move to New Earth, my mind links with the others have lessened considerably. Omari, Bergen and the rest of the PCC members, though offered relocation off planet, chose to remain behind to fight for Pitters' rights. And Moses Caraq, who was vindicated when the recording of Mac hit the news feeds, was reinstated at WAVE-Sec, and was now gunning for a position on the WAVE Corp. board with a promise to reform its operations. The old guard was fighting him, but Moses was looking taller these days and with his family connections he had a good chance.

The only troublesome mind links for us were Mac's and Mancy's, both of them, along with every one of the Pit Pats Mac had lead through the tunnels that day, were transported to New Earth to stand trial for manslaughter and conspiracy to conceal a crime. To his credit, Mac had maintained a stony silence—though we did feel his brooding presence from time to time. Mancy, though, out of malice or boredom, took delight in breaking out of the imaginary closets I locked him in to talk shit in my ear.

You two are so nauseatingly cute, he would tell us when I would try to hold Vestra's hand or lean in to kiss her. Inevitably, she would pull back, not wanting to have an audience. I didn't blame her. It's been awkward. Our physical relationship remained a work in progress. But I was hopeful.

"She's coming," said Travers, picking up on Vestra's approaching presence before I even did.

I opened my eyes and sat up. Vestra was strolling towards us. Trouble was brewing on her face, but she gave me a smile when she saw me looking. It was a kind gesture, but it didn't fool me.

She plopped down on the blanket beside me.

"Well, did you see Mac?" We had decided that our default would be to speak out loud even when just speaking to each other—and that there would be no point in hiding anything from Travers. My boy, who had fought for the Pitters, had earned the right to hear all the messy truth—if he wanted to.

Vestra looked at him now, and he nodded his head. "Go on," he told her.

"No, he wouldn't see me, but I spoke to his lawyer. It seems Mancy flipped on Mac—told New Earth Sec that yes, he did tell Mac about the tunnels, but no, he never suggested they sneak into the Pit that morning. He told them that was Mac's idea."

"And, of course, there's no recording of that conversation."

"Exactly. The lawyer told me some of the Pit Pats have opted for a deal. They'll plead guilty to a lesser charge of tampering with dead bodies. Others have refused and they'll go up on manslaughter. But they've all lawyered up and all of them say they were deceived by Mac, that they thought they were following legitimate orders."

"Is the jury going to buy that excuse?"

"Who knows. They're painting Mac like he's the mastermind behind this fiendish plot. The consensus is against him from the get-go."

"He still won't give up Ahluwalia or the others at WAVE-Corp.?"

"I pleaded with the lawyer to get Mac to do just that—but apparently Mac won't. He still insists he acted on his own accord. Well, you always said they wanted someone to lynch, Ann, but who would have thought it would be Mac? Oh, by the way, we're probably going to have to testify."

"Both of us?"

Vestra nodded her head.

I sighed. "It's going to be a media circus."

"Yup," she said, grabbing my hand and for once Mancy wasn't in my head to comment. "I was thinking, maybe we should rent a house out of town for the duration—there's some gated ones with built in drone jammers. There's ones on lakes—I can teach Travers how to swim. And we'll be farther away from Mancy. Maybe we'll have better luck keeping him in his closet."

There she goes being thoughtful again. "Can we afford it?"

"I have some savings. Maybe you can write a memoir like Mancy's doing."

Travers and I laughed, and I said: "No thank you, but we could spend some of the credits that Moses gave me."

"I'm still not sure you should have accepted those credits."

"Vestra, don't be jealous," I tugged on her hand. "It was a gift; I couldn't refuse it. He's such a sweet man."

"I know, I know," Vestra agreed. "Okay, let's do it."

"Sweet," said Travers, never taking his eyes from his screen. "I don't think I've ever seen a lake."

Vestra was caressing my hand, moving her fingers up and down my arm. "I...uh...think we should go see Raquel's wife."

"It's not that Bian woman is it?"

"No, she didn't end up with her, thank God. But I think we should go see this woman, let her know what really happened to Quel."

"Vestra, if she's been listening to the news feeds, she's already heard."

"I know, but you can tell her what really happened," Vestra said, her voice now cracking. "You can tell her what Raquel was like in those last moments. How she was joking and talking, doing the right thing, always doing what she could to help."

Tears welled up in our eyes. "Sure, Vestra, I can do that."

I'm going to vomit—, Mancy made his presence felt again, but we both slammed the closet door in his face—he was a problem for another day. We leaned in and kissed.

THE END

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