"Because you can't," Thrr-gilag said. "That's all there is to it. It's the law."
"Oh, come now," Thrr-pifix-a said, tilting her head in that peremptory way Thrr-gilag always associated with her challenges to his schoolwork answers. "Just because something is a law doesn't mean it's right. A thousand cyclics ago it was illegal for anyone except clan and family leaders to have their fsss organs removed at all."
"I'm familiar with Zhirrzh history, thank you," Thrr-gilag said. "But you can't use arrogant stupidities in our past to justify breaking the law now."
"I'm not trying to justify anything, Thrr-gilag," Thrr-pifix-a said tiredly. "There's no challenge to the law itself in this—I'm sure it was written for good reasons by Zhirrzh who were intent on doing the right thing. All I want is the right to choose for myself. And I should have that right. All Zhirrzh should."
Thrr-gilag closed his eyes. "Who have you told all this to?"
"This part? Just you. Though your brother may have recognized on his own where the track was leading."
"And father, too?" He opened his eyes. "Is that why you moved out of his anchorline range? So he wouldn't have a chance to try to talk you out of it?"
Thrr-pifix-a stood up and stepped over to one of the windows. "Your father is gone, Thrr-gilag," she said, almost too softly for him to hear. "What's left out there at the shrine is not the Zhirrzh I bonded to and worked beside for forty-eight cyclics. I left home because the reminders of what I'd lost were too much to bear."
"I understand," Thrr-gilag said, a twinge of her same ache tugging at him. He'd felt it himself at the shrine: talking to the Elder his father had become was not the same as having his father there beside him. Not really. "I wish I knew what I could say that would make it better."
Thrr-pifix-a turned back from her contemplation of the darkness outside. "I know. And I thank you for caring." She made an attempt at a smile. "I wish I knew what to say to keep you from worrying about me the way you are right now."
"You could say you'll think about this idea of yours some more," Thrr-gilag suggested. "You could say that you understand that this loss is still fresh, and that you'll give it more time to heal before you do anything drastic."
"How about if I just say I'll put you up for the latearc?" she countered, the smile more convincing this time. "With a promise of breakfast at the other end? I won't even make you cook this time."
Thrr-gilag sighed. "I'm sorry, Mother, I wish I could. But I've got to get going. I have to leave for Gree in a few tentharcs."
"Gree?"
"Yes. Klnn-dawan-a's there with a study group."
"Ah," Thrr-pifix-a said. "I should have known. Please give her my best when you see her. I hope you two find the time to be bonded soon. While I'm still around to come to the ceremony."
"Yes," Thrr-gilag murmured, frowning at the unconcerned look on his mother's face. Could it be that she didn't know about the Dhaa'rr threat to revoke the bond-engagement?
No, of course she didn't know. She wasn't talking to Elders anymore. "We'll try to accommodate you," he said. "Look, I really have to go. But you take care. And... keep thinking about all of this. All right?"
"I will," she promised, stepping over to kiss him farewell. "You think about it, too. And take care of yourself."
"Sure. I'll talk to you when I get back. I love you, Mother."
"I love you, my son."
The walk back to the rail seemed longer, somehow, than the earlier walk in the other direction. Colder, too, in the chilly latearc air. Thrr-gilag plodded mechanically along, oblivious to the silent, starlit world around him. And tried to think.
It was a waste of effort. There were too many questions, too many potential crises facing him and his loved ones. And no solutions to any of them.
Should he tell his father what Thrr-pifix-a had planned? Or if not him, should he tell Thrr-tulkoj? Surely the Zhirrzh charged with protecting the Thrr family shrine would want to know of this kind of threat. And it was almost certainly Thrr-gilag's legal duty to report it to someone.
But on the other side, it had been only half a cyclic since Thrr't-rokik had been raised to Eldership. If this attempt to run away was really nothing more than an expression of her grief and her struggle to adjust, reporting it would do nothing but cause more trouble for everyone. And shame to go along with it.
Or should Thrr-gilag himself have tried harder to talk his mother out of the whole thing? Canceled his trip to Gree, perhaps, and spent more time with her? Maybe it was loneliness that was driving it, or a cry for help and support?
Maybe he should have told her about the threat to his bonding with Klnn-dawan-a. It would have given him an opening to suggest that she should bury such radical thoughts for now in favor of family solidarity, as well as reminding her of the advantages Elders had in obtaining knowledge and information.
No. Thrr-pifix-a didn't care about information and knowledge. She cared about her garden, and her cooking, and her edgework, and her family. And Eldership would take three of those away from her.
He sighed, a startling sound in the stillness of the latearc. No, there was nothing more he could do about this. Not right now. Maybe when he got to Gree and had a chance to talk with Klnn-dawan-a, the two of them might be able to come up with something.
He picked up his pace, the weariness lifting a little from his spirit. Yes; Klnn-dawan-a. Together, the two of them would find some way to resolve this mess. All of it.
9
An Elder appeared in front of Thrr-mezaz. "They're down, Commander," he reported. "The Elders' initial postflight check on the engines shows all systems normal."
"Very good," Thrr-mezaz said. "Inform all perimeter warriors to stand down to secondary-alert status. And have the Stingbirds recalled from their escort zones."
"I obey, Commander," the Elder said, and vanished.
"Well, here we go," Thrr-mezaz commented, glancing at Klnn-vavgi. "You ready, Second?"
"Not really, no," Klnn-vavgi said. "To be perfectly honest, Thrr-mezaz, this whole thing makes me nervous. There's no reason I can think of why Dkll-kumvit should need to come all the way down here just to talk to us. That's what he's got direct laser links for."
"Maybe he just wants to overview our defensive setup for himself," Thrr-mezaz said.
"He can do a blame sight better overview from orbit than he can from down here," Klnn-vavgi said. "Anyway, he's a ship commander. You ever known a ship commander who voluntarily came down on the ground?"
Thrr-mezaz shrugged. "There's always a first time."
"You believe that if you want to, Commander," Klnn-vavgi growled. "I say he's got a hummer with him, and that we've got some bad news coming."
The transport rolled to a stop in front of them, a landing ramp unfolding from its side as its doorway slid open. Dkll-kumvit was waiting at the top, and even before the ramp had completely settled into place, he was on his way down.
"Good postmidarc to you," Thrr-mezaz said as the other reached the ground. "I'm Commander Thrr-mezaz; Kee'rr. This is Second Commander Klnn-vavgi; Dhaa'rr."
"Commander Thrr-mezaz; Second Commander Klnn-vavgi," Dkll-kumvit acknowledged. "I'm Supreme Ship Commander Dkll-kumvit; Ghuu'rr."
"Honored, Supreme Ship Commander Dkll-kumvit." Thrr-mezaz gestured, and the three warriors waiting with the kavra fruit stepped forward.
The ritual was quick and perfunctory, all the more so here in the middle of a war zone. "I have some matters to discuss with you, Commander," Dkll-kumvit said when they were finished. "Have you a place where we can speak in private?"