Chapter 2, The Book of Dreams
The Book of Dreams
If you’re just starting off on this series, try from the beginning.
Kira was giddy by the time she reached her flat in District XI. Apprehensive too, but mostly giddy. Fate had fallen into her lap like a bright, red apple, and she savored the sweetness of it. After kicking off her heels, she directed Olive to raise the tinted levels in her windows, add a holograph of sunflowers on the windowsill, and sift through her mail. When the sunlight blasted into her room, and Olive sped through the list of messages in her inbox without her having heard a single one, she asked the comp-manager to readjust the window settings and repeat the messages. They turned out to be junk mail.
As she padded barefoot through the round archway to her room, Kira revisited the meeting she'd had with Dr. Karault and Field Director Ito. She never imagined she'd one day return to IPPA. She never entertained the possibility. So many sacrifices she made to achieve one goal, so hurt and disappointed when they didn't pan out. Like many Betan women, she didn't put too much thought into relationships, marriage, and children, believing that even the strongest bonds suffered in the Beta system, where the majority of careers involved extensive traveling. She focused on her career, had her fair share of flings, and forged ahead in her life. When her dreams failed to pan out, she settled at the Institute, where she was happy, if not entirely satisfied. She had no regrets. Still, the idea of returning to IPPA and traveling as a personal attaché to a N'Dhia was too delicious an opportunity to pass up. Yet a thought rooted in the back of her mind. What if this should turn out to be a disappointment as well? Her life so far had told her not to dream big. What changed its mind?
She was changing out of her uniform when Olive announced that a message from her father had come in. With that, giddiness turned to apprehension. She waited before she gave her directive: "Open message."
The viewer screen in her room flickered with a warm pulse of plasma and soon bore the frozen image of her father. Before she directed Olive to hit play, she lingered over the image for a few seconds. Her father, tall, lean and handsome, looked so much older to her now. His beard and hair, which he wore in long locs, were gray. His face was thinner. She could make out the traces of his skull under that leathery brown skin. When did this happen: this aging? It seemed her father would never grow old. Whenever he returned from his long trips he looked no older than when he left, while she grew and matured, trading afropuffs for braids and crayons for lipstick. She thought he would always be her young and handsome Daddy. Since his retirement, it appeared that mortality had caught up with him, no longer delayed by the relativity of time.
She recalled what Field Director Ito told her an hour earlier. If she accepted the position, she might be in the field for years, decades at most. For her, as it was for her father, it might feel like only a matter of days or months. To life on Beta, it could be eternity. Reality pressed down on all of her ambitions.
She sighed. "Olive, run message."
Her father smiled at her from a distance of twenty-nine kilometers where he lived in Tura City. "Hey, baby girl," he said with a little wave. "Just checking in on you and seeing how you're doing." He went through the usual litany of his day's routine––his garden, where he was testing his ideas about synthesizing alkali for his soil deposits; updates on grandkids Alek, Paterson, and Wynn and on their parents Bomani and Dada; follow-ups on health ("Doc says I'm in tiptop shape; got the internal organs of a twenty-one year old" which he finished with the flexing of muscles); and questions about how she was doing.
He didn't mention Lailani, his ex-wife. He married her shortly after Kira's mother passed away. She was fifteen years his junior and a very vibrant and active woman. While her father was settling into retirement, tooling around with his replicated alkali, his orange trees and tomato plants, she traveled to the other planets in the Beta system for work and leisure. They were woefully incompatible, but they managed six years before she left him for another woman. The disruption had affected him so much that both Kira and Bomani considered having him seek counseling, but he recovered, gaining back his jovial spirit, his interests in his garden and his grandchildren. He never talked about Lailani. It was as if she was a part of his life that had slipped into a black hole. Neither she nor Bomani brought her up either, though Kira would sometimes run into her and her new lover at the Trading Center in Katua, looking radiant and happy. That was life in Beta too. People adapted.
The message ended. Olive asked if she wanted to send a reply. She started to say yes, but then stopped herself. "No. Olive, order an Automated Vehicle for me. And redirect all my home messages to my communicator. I'll be out of town for the rest of the day."
The AV Olive ordered glided soundlessly along HR-50, the main transit route from Katua to Tura City. Traffic and scenery––wild vegetation and wheat fields––zipped by while Kira sank in her seat, eyes half-closed. The soft dulcet tones of the Katua Orchestra playing a list of twentieth century popular tunes on the CC, and the warmth of the sun on the transport's glass roof were soporific. Though it was summer, there was significant cloud cover, muting the sunlight to a dull amber glow. Feathery cirrus clouds stretched well toward Mt. Calliope, the volcano that rose along a mountainous range two hundred and fifty kilometers away. Before Kira left her flat, Olive had predicted two percent rainfall. It rained nine out of twelve and a half months on Beta. The storms slaked the rocky countryside and filled the Seven Sisters, the lakes named after their celestial twins surrounding the region, with their runoffs. Saline conversion generators, tall, round, rusty-colored containers, dotted the landscape to store and convert rainfall into potable water. According to the meteorological data, the containers weren't going to see any new surplus for a while. It was going to be a balmy, summer night.
To the left was a line of trees. Through the heavy foliage, the land, thick with wild vegetation, sloped down into Lake Asterope. Kira's family enjoyed many summer getaways there, picnicking by the pebbled beaches of the lake and swimming in its waters. Those days seemed so long ago, when her mother was still young and alive, her laughter shimmering like the sparks of sunlight on the surface of the water.
She bit down on her lower lip, and stared at the wheat fields waving in the breeze.
By mid-noon the AV eased into downtown Tura City. Tura City was the trade hub in the Lakes of the Seven Sisters region, providing the industrial output for ten cities and townships. Factories, electrical grids, tachyon transmission towers, import and export terminals, and the Port of Solarin were all located in the small industrial town. It was a far less exciting, far less sophisticated sister to Katua. The buildings had a utilitarian aesthetic, moon dust gray and not a bit grimy from years of use. There wasn't much of a night life to speak of. Yet despite its reputation it was ironically a popular tourist trap. The geysers along the edges of Lake Asterope were sights to see.
The suburbs where Kira grew up were only marginally better––compounds of several acres along the outer edges of the lake, where families shared private water generators, communal gardens, and entertainment kiosks. Large swaths of land with woodlands and wild vegetation were lovely. Still, life within the compounds was far too languorous for Kira. She had grown used to Katua, with its infinite rush of people, flash of color, and nightlife. For a dreamy teenager who'd lie beneath the trees, gazing up at the starry night and imagining herself among them, escaping Tura City had been a mission. Yet as the AV slowed in front of her family's compound, she was stricken with homesickness.
She climbed out of the cab and ventured toward the tall barrier that surrounded the compound. Vines with broad, glossy leaves climbed the face of the wall. Its wrought-iron gate yielded to her fingers with a squeak. There was little crime in Tura City, so security systems were unnecessary. She strolled up the walk past a green lawn and groves of Tura trees, white-trunked vegetation that reminded Kira of fennel, her thoughts wandering languorously.
Up ahead was a section of brick houses that made up the communal dwellings. The house on the farthest left belonged to her family. Her brother Bomani, wearing a loose white shirt and pants, stepped out just as she quickened her paces up the flagstones toward it. He grinned broadly and waved to her. She waved back.
The siblings embraced. Bomani parted first and smiled. He was the older of the two, evinced by the gray that was peppering his beard and the edges of his hairline. His resemblance to their father––the thin face and warm, friendly eyes, more amused by life's absurdities than the vigorous exasperation that once charged his youth––struck her like a shot.
"Hey," he said. "This is a surprise."
"Wanted to see how my big bruh was doing," she said.
"In the middle of the day?" His eyebrows shot up.
She shrugged. "I was getting tired of eating replicated junk food every day. Dada's home cooking brought me here."
He started to laugh. "Well, you're out of luck, sis. We're going out in an hour."
She snapped her fingers. "Just my luck."
They followed the flagstones arms around waists back toward the dwellings. Dada's and her niece and nephews' voices tumbled through the open door like dandelions. Bomani yelled at them to come out. "What for?" Dada yelled back. Kira laughed. "We got a visitor." A few seconds later Dada appeared in the doorway wearing a white frock of a similar fabric. The compound had a 3-D replicator that printed out all the fabrics for the families. Although there were facilities that dyed fabrics for trade, neither Bomani nor his wife were used them. They weren't the extravagant type. Not that it mattered. Their dark skin looked gorgeous against the white fabric.
Dada's round face crinkled with surprise as she spread open her arms. "Oh, my god," she cried out. "You didn't tell me you were coming."
"It was a surprise," Kira said, hugging her sister-in-law. "Even to myself."
Dada let go of her and exchanged a funny look with her husband. Kira smiled awkwardly. "You guys look fantastic."
"You're looking pretty hot yourself, girl."
Kira beamed.
"So what's going on?" Dada asked. "Why are you out on a workday? Something happened?"
Kira laughed nervously. They animated their questions with good humor, but she could tell by the look in their eyes that they were guarded. They lived quiet, comfortable, mundane lives. Anything out of the ordinary was a cause for concern.
"I have some news, but I need to see Dad first."
"So it wasn't Dada's cooking," Bo said.
"Well, that, among other things."
Bo crinkled his brow. "This news you got: Good or bad."
"It depends."
Bomani and Dada exchanged more glances before their three kids ran out of the house. Wynnie, Alek, and Paterson collided into her. They strung their thin arms around her legs and chanted about their favorite aunt. She laughed and threw her arms around them. All three children were a variation of their parents' looks––round faces with prominent cheekbones, curious, animated eyes. Whenever she came to visit, she had a present for each of them, usually something she picked up at the Trading Center. Today she came empty-handed. Their wide eyes darkened with the first stirrings of disappointment in their aunt. When she promised next time she was going to bring them back something special, their little faces brightened.
"Now there you go spoiling them again," Dada said reproachfully, herding her brood back indoors.
Kira laughed and pointed out that there was no point in being an auntie if she couldn't spoil them. Dada glanced over her shoulder with a sardonic grin before she ushered her kids back inside.
Alone with her brother Kira breathed in evenly and smiled. Bomani stared at her curiously.
"What?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Something happened." Not a question. A statement. One honed from years of hearing news that could turn bad.
"You can say that."
"I asked you before if it was good news or bad and you said it depended. What does that mean?"
She shook her head. "Nothing, it was nothing." His eyebrow shot up, brow furrowed. She laughed. She really was being more dramatic than she needed to be. "I'll explain later, but it's nothing bad. I just need to talk to Dad first. Where is he?"
"Where d'you think?"
"His garden." She smiled in the direction of the communal garden. "How's he doing?"
He shrugged. "Same as always––lonely. He'd tell you otherwise, but he's still dealing with that business with Lani."
Kira sighed. "Has he talked to you about it yet?" He gave her a weird look. "Yeah, right." They drifted toward the communal gardens in silence before Bo explained. "He's okay. I mean, it's not like it was before, but I know he still misses her. I guess he'll always miss her, just like he'll always miss mom. Look, if you're planning to give him some complicated shit to deal with, then make sure you lay it on him easy. He's got enough on his shoulders."
"It's not as bad as you think, Bo. Hell, it's not even bad. I just need some friendly advice, that's all."
"Advice? About what?"
"Career opportunities." He stared expectantly at her before, sighing, she added: "I got a job offer and…"
"Really?" he said brightly. "That's fantastic."
"Yeah, but it involves a lot of travel."
"That's what you always wanted, right?"
She sighed again, then gazed toward the line of orange groves a few meters away. "I don't know. It's just a lot to think about. I could really use Dad's advice. "
He nodded contemplatively, then gestured toward the garden. "Well, he's there now with his alkali samples." He nodded for her to go, then kissed her on the cheek. "I'll be at the compound if you need me. Fantastic news, sis."
Smiling through her melancholy, Kira watched him walk back to the compound with a heart heavy and full of doubt, then turned and walked toward the garden.
The garden in the compound was communal. Everyone contributed to it. Everyone benefited from it. Residents planted fruits and vegetables and shared the harvest. As she walked through the orange trees her father had planted and had yet to bear fruit, she recalled those long-ago happy days when she, Bomani, and their parents took part in the planting season every winter, scooping out the dry, volcanic soil and planting tomato, eggplant, and okra seeds. Most of the seeds rarely sprouted. Though the early explorers were able to terraform the planet and make it more habitable, the soil was still resistant to alien vegetation. Its high acidity was dangerous to some plants native to Earth. In spite of the challenges, the garden still flourished. Plenty of fruits, vegetables, and flowers that provided for the community. There were many like her father, though, who resisted letting nature take its course.
As she walked into the rows of plants where her father was now bent, back facing her, she felt a surge of pride over what they had accomplished. In the Beta system, you may not have always gotten what you wanted, but you always got what you needed. Given the odds, that was a feat in itself.
A bee, a bio-genetically modified clone of its Earth cousins, buzzed past her, striking out toward the rows of strawberry plants nearby before selecting a bud to nurture. She watched it for a few seconds, feeling akin to it in some way, before she called to her father.
Loren Wood peered over his shoulder, his narrow features pulling into a grin.
Their embrace was no less warm than the one shared between siblings. He touched her face and hair, his fingertips dusted with red clay.
"Well, what a surprise."
"Bo said the same thing."
"When you drop by on a mid-day like this, what else can you say? So what brings you here, baby girl?"
"No reason. Completely unexpected."
He narrowed his eyes, though his smile never left his face. "So you out of the blue decided to pop in on your old man."
"Something like that. I got your message."
They pulled apart. He bent to pick up a trowel and a small container from the ground. She noticed the tiny depressions in the dirt he had dug.
"So how are you?"
He shrugged and made a face. "If you got my message then you know the answer to that."
She smiled wistfully, unable to say what she really meant. "You're still at it, aren't you?" She nodded to the soil deposits.
Loren stared at her for a few moments, then shrugged again. "I was taking some samples."
He had been experimenting on the soil samples at the lab he rented in town. He wanted to test out some theories about introducing replicated alkali in the samples to see if they might produce more alkaline-tolerant vegetation. It was only a working theory but it had been preoccupying much of his time lately. He did not state outright that the reason for this might be due to his split from Lailani.
"The orange trees—I've never seen their foliage so thick before. That should be a good sign."
"Maybe," he said, then pointed the trowel at her. "But you didn't come all the way out here to talk about orange trees, did you?"
"Maybe."
They were silent for a few seconds, listening to the buzz and drone of cloned insects in the thick vegetation. The sun had grown warmer and Kira began to sweat in her thick uniform. In a few months autumn would arrive, bringing with it dead leaves and decaying undergrowth. The leaves would change to bright red, their undersides turned upward to the pale sunlight, and the first drops of rain would fall, cratering the dust and slaking the garden and vegetation for another spring. Life on Beta-1 would go through its annual motions, but Kira will be far away, experiencing other planets, other changes.
"I got a job offer." She practically breathed out the words.
"Is that right?" He held the plastic container up to the light and studied the samples in the box he retrieved from the ground.
"With IPPA." He looked at her. "I'll be traveling as an attaché to a––" She paused, cautioned by whether she should reveal everything to him—"to an emissary from Idris-Sarra." His expression did not change. "It's a good offer. A great one, actually."
"But––?"
"But?"
"Ain't there always a but."
She chuckled softly to herself. He could see right through her. "I just wanted to run it by you first."
"So you're looking for my permission?"
"No," she said, crinkling her brow, "more like advice."
He scrutinized her briefly, then nodded. "Let's go to the gazebo, it's cooler there."
The gazebo wasn't so much a gazebo but a storage space made of red clay brick where the local gardeners kept their equipment, canvas bags of soil and seed, and red clay pots sprouting reedy plants on rows of metal shelves. When they stepped inside, a cool draft brushed against Kira's face. A steel table was set with a bottle of wine and a plate of bread and cheese. Compliments of the chef, her father announced brightly.
They sat down. Her father poured a few glasses of synthetic wine and sliced the bread and cheese. They ate and drank in silence.
"This is good," she said, sipping the wine. "Not excellent, but not bad."
"Lailani bought it."
The two fell into silence again. It was the first time since the divorce that she heard her father mention his ex-wife's name. The moment weighed heavily with import. She tried to read her father's eyes for a few moments. This unexpected door might yield to the gentlest touch. Her father's expression remained stubbornly opaque. He was always a private man. He could be good-natured and easy-going, quick for a joke and a laugh, yet under it all was a layer of sadness that neither Bomani nor Kira understood. It used to drive their mother crazy, the way he guarded his heart. Kira well recalled the arguments they used to have in their suite, her mother pleading with him to not lock her out. When Tania passed away from a brief illness, Loren was on one of his missions, a long trip that took him to the Zharkassar system in Q-IV. By the time he returned, his wife had been dead for four months. When he had gotten the news, he wept in a way neither Kira nor Bomani had seen before. She hoped it was an epiphany, but Lailani intimated to her once that he didn't make it any easier for her either.
"So what's the deal with the new job? Do you want it?"
"It's a great opportunity," she said. "I mean, it's everything I've been working toward."
"True that."
"At the same time, I'm a little apprehensive."
"Apprehensive? What for?"
She sighed, plucking her words with the care of picking quill thistle from stems. "It'll involve a lot of traveling."
"Yeah, it will, but wasn't that why you applied for IPPA in the first place?"
"Yeah, but I have so much more responsibilities now than I did after I left the Academy. Take my job at the Institute, for instance. They need me. My supervisor even said I'm a valuable asset. I can't leave them in the lurch."
"Baby girl, you don't owe them a damn thing."
"I know that, it's just…I still feel obligated. They took me on when they didn't have to."
"They took you on 'cause the OES told them to. They didn't treat you any different than anybody else on Beta. So what's really going on here? What's the real reason you scared to say yes?" She looked away from his direct inquiry and stared at her glass of wine. "I see. It's me, ain't it? Scared your old man gonna turn into a drooling invalid, huh? I'm old, but I'm fit as a fiddle. I don't need looking after."
She raised her eyes. "It's not that entirely."
"Then what is it?"
"Leilani. Look," she said as he grimaced, "we both know you never got over her."
"And what business is that of yours?"
"I'm your daughter. You are my business."
"No, I am not. Whatever shit I'm dealing with, I'll deal with on my own."
"Oh, come off it," she said. "You always try to hide behind that strong, black man jazz, but I know you're still hurting. And yes, that's influencing my decision on whether to take this job. I worry about you, Daddy. Bo and I both. I don't want to leave you behind—"
"—the way I left your Mama behind."
She stared at him for a long time before she looked away, frustrated. "That's not what I meant."
"Like hell, it wasn't. You don't think I don't know how you all felt about me being away for long stretches of time?"
"It was your job," she said. "We all understood, including Mom. I mean, we live in the Beta star system. We all grow up knowing space travel is a part of our daily lives. Some people don't even bother starting families because of that." She shrugged. "Why would we hold it against you?"
Loren's face broadened into a smile. His eyes, which were usually somber, were now sparkling with mirth. It took her a few seconds to understand what was going on. Then it dawned on her that she had offered the best reason why she should take the offer.
She lowered her head. "I'm an idiot."
Her father laughed, then grasped her hand. "Listen, your mom and me had the same conversation when I got my post. Only I was the idiot in that version. Still didn't make it any easier being away from you."
"I meant what I said earlier. None of us held it against you."
He patted her hand. "I'm a grown man with nothing but the past on his shoulders to worry about. You're a young woman with a future ahead of you. Make it your own. Do you want this new appointment?"
She drew in a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, I do."
"Then, there you go."
She smiled softly, then reached over and hugged her father. For a moment, he stiffened, surprised at first by her unexpected show of affection. He asked if this meant she was accepting the offer. Laughing as she separated herself from him, she nodded.
"Does Bo and Dada know?"
She shook her head. "I told Bo, but not my decision."
He rose stiffly from his chair. "Then we got good news to deliver."
Cheers all around. Good news always had that effect. Dada hugged and congratulated Kira, while her children peppered her with questions about space travel. Dada and Bomani had gotten them a holographic video on the various planetary systems and their cultures for the holidays and it was now all they wanted to talk about. Only Bomani seemed less certain. She noticed the curious furrows on his brow and the skeptical look in his eyes. When she asked if he was okay with her traveling so far away, he shook his head and smiled. "Hey, it's what you've been dreaming about for years." She kissed him on the cheek. Then, whispered: "I won't be leaving you holding the bag." As their father and Dada began planning a celebration dinner party for Kira, Bo stared into his sister's eyes. Everything unsaid reverberated in the bright Betan sunshine.
That evening, the Woods dined at The Restaurant at the Edge of the Lake. Like everything else in Tura City, The Restaurant at the Edge of the Lake or, as locals referred to it, the Lake Restaurant, suffered from extreme literalness. The restaurant, like the hotel which housed it, stood at the edge of Lake Asterope, whose views were visible from the floor-to-ceiling windows and a dock that stretched a kilometer across the lake. Every hour, a geyser exploded a jet of water that rose some fifteen feet into the air, charming locals and tourists alike. A combination of human and Xarite waiters served guests a bevy of cuisine that spanned Earth palates, depending on the day of the week and rarely repeating itself throughout the month.
Dada, who took control of everything, ordered course after course of soups, appetizers, and platters of coconut rice and churrasco. Their table looked out on the lake. A row of trees lined its banks and the mountains beyond turned purple in the dying light. People standing on the dock outside retreated to escape from the spray.
Dada laughed as she filled her children's plates with barbecued meat. They won't be standing close to that dock again, she said. Wynnie, Alek, and Paterson mimicked the exploding geyser and the shocks looks on the tourists' faces.
Kira smiled, but her homesickness deepened. Though she had not changed her mind, she was still struck by the idea that it would be a very long time before she would see her family again. So long that her niece and nephew will likely be teens. She started to see what her father must have felt every time he boarded his transport for another long trip in interstellar space. But every goodbye ain't gone. She smiled wistfully again, and watched her family.
After the meal, the family strolled along the deck and gazed out over the inky black water. Beta-1's moon, Titania II, blood-orange and new, was at its zenith, casting its dim, titian light below. Darkness lurked, creating an appetite for light everywhere. Children ran past them waving LED sticks. Water crafts with colored lamps glowed with sublime radiance on the dark water. The entire dock illuminated with planks that glowed kilometers away.
While Bomani, Dada, and their children strolled ahead, Kira and her father lingered behind. They watched the lights shimmer against the dark water, each likely thinking of their different destinies. Kira reached for her father's hand and squeezed it tight.
"Nervous?"
"A little."
"You'll get used to it. Traveling in space, I mean."
"I've traveled in space before, Daddy," she said. "Remember I used to work on The Cloud."
"Yeah, but interstellar traveling is different thing altogether."
She grinned until she realized she didn't have any idea what mode of transport Z'Dhian traveled in. She had heard stories, again apocryphal, about how Idris-Sarran mastered both time and space. The sudden thought left her curious.
When they reached the end of the pier, Loren squeezed her hand. "Listen here," he said. "I want you to promise me you'll be careful."
She started to laugh. "Daddy, I'll be fine––"
"Just promise me. This is a big universe we live in, baby girl. Some of it was never meant to be seen. Some of it you'd be better off not seeing." He fixed her with a heavy stare. "Promise me you'll be careful."
Kira nodded uncertainly. "All right, Dad. I promise."
He nodded, then stared across the luminous water in silence.
This ends Chapter 2 of the Book of Dreams. To continue with the next installment click here. In Chapter 3, Kira learns more about her job, the mysterious Z’Dhia with whom she was assigned to travel, and the real reason why she was given the job in the first place!
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