“You.”
Beth Eden Jones came stalking into the refectory, trailed by an anxious-looking Marie Golvin.
17
Ari and Penny stood to meet her.
Beth was wearing Brikanti costume, as they all were after two years here, tunic, trousers, leather boots, a light cloak. Though she looked heavy, she was evidently no longer pregnant, Penny saw immediately. And in her arms she cradled a bundle wrapped in blankets.
Penny said, “Beth? What the hell—is that what I think it is? You’ve had your baby? I’m sorry—I lost track of the date. I didn’t hear any news…”
Ari stood silently, his face like thunder.
Beth stood before her husband, glaring at him, but she spoke to Penny. “Yes, Penny, this is my baby. By this monster.”
Ari stared back. He said in a kind of growl, “Not here, woman. Not now.”
“Then where, if not before my friends? Shall I go back to your home, your family, and wait until the next time you try to kill her?”
Heads turned around the refectory.
Penny said sharply, “Beth. Whatever the hell you’re talking about—come on, sit down.” She put her arm around Beth’s shoulder, and could feel her trembling, could see the stain of tears around her eyes. She looked a lot older than her thirty-eight years, old and drained. But she complied, sitting at the table, which still bore the remains of their meal. Penny said, “You too, Ari—don’t loom over her like that. Beth, do you want anything? A drink—”
“Nothing.” Beth’s eyes and Ari’s were locked still.
Penny sat down and glanced up at Marie. “Bring some water. Umm, and some hot milk.”
Marie hurried away.
Penny put her hand on Beth’s arm and leaned forward to see. The baby, at least, was sleeping peacefully, its face a crumple. “Oh, Beth. It’s beautiful.”
“She. She’s a girl. She’s called Mardina.”
“After your mother.” Penny looked up at Ari, whose face showed nothing but hostility. “I don’t understand anything of this. What’s wrong? Is she not healthy?”
“The baby is fine,” Ari said coldly. “But she was—unintended.”
“They don’t hold with women my age having kids,” Beth said. “The Brikanti. It’s a rough and ready rule. You can understand why; they fly warships in space but their medicine is medieval.”
“But you got pregnant anyway.”
“It was an accident. Yes, I got pregnant. I was told it would be all right, that the baby would be accepted.”
“You probably misunderstood,” Ari said. “You misheard the nuances. I told you there would have to be a trial—”
“They exposed her,” Beth said to Penny. “While I slept.”
Penny was bewildered. “They what?”
“They took her, Ari’s family, the women. Took her from me. They stripped away her blankets, and put her on the roof of the house, naked. She would be allowed to live, you see, if she survived the exposure. And if he chose to bring her in. It was to be his choice, not mine.”
Penny turned on Ari. “That seems unnecessarily brutal.”
He managed to smile, self-deprecating. “It’s not the time for a history lesson. You may blame the Romans from whom we borrowed the custom. The rule is indeed—what did you say?—rough and ready. Better a few healthy children are lost, than that society is burdened with the weak—”
Beth snapped, “The father gets to choose to save her, or not. Not the mother. Most mothers will have families to back them up—sometimes they take the child, though the mother can’t see her again. But I had no one to help me. And he chose to abandon her.”
Ari shook his head. “All of this was unplanned. Most men in my position would have done the same.”
“But you found out, Beth,” Penny prompted.
“I busted out of that damn house where they were keeping me,” Beth said. “I got up on the roof, and saved my baby, and I came straight here, where I knew you would be. I wonder how many laws I broke doing that. Will you prosecute me, scholar? Will I be thrown in jail, or mutilated, or executed, or whatever else you do to disobedient mothers?”
Ari shook his head again. “No, no. There are always exceptions. You will be welcome in my home, with my family—with the baby—”
“Not after this.” She turned to Penny with a look of pleading. “Let me stay here. With you.”
“Of course you can stay,” Penny said immediately.
Ari stood. “This changes nothing. This Academy is here at my discretion. In a sense you are still under my roof—”
“They stay,” Penny said firmly, “with us.”
“And the future? As the child has needs, as she grows?”
Penny sighed. “We’ll deal with that when we come to it. I think it’s best if you go now, Ari Guthfrithson.”
He stood still for a moment, clenching one fist. Then he stalked away, almost colliding with Marie Golvin as she approached with a tray of drinks.
Stef watched him go. “I thought I understood him. I thought we communicated, as scholars. Druidh. But now—”
“You don’t know him at all,” Beth said. “I didn’t. These people aren’t like us, Stef. Not even Ari. Not even the man I thought I loved, who fathered my child. Especially not him.”
18
AD 2227; AUC 2980
“ColU, I thought Quintus Fabius was a pompous ass from the moment he came strutting down from that airship.”
“He is a good commander, Yuri Eden. But as he hails from what is still regarded as an outer province of the Empire, he has to be more Roman than the Romans.”
“So he’s got a chip on his shoulder. Boo hoo. Actually he reminded me of that other pompous ass Lex McGregor… I’m sorry. Kind of lost my way there.”
“Relax, Yuri Eden. Breathe the oxygen.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Do you remember what we were talking about? I am here to witness your final testament.”
“Always busy, eh, ColU? Look, just talk to me. I’ve had enough of my own miserable life for now. You’re the nearest thing I’ve got to a friend on this tub—you and Stef, but you were there first, right?”
“Even if I was an instrument of the ISF, the organization that stranded you against your will on an alien world.”
“Well, there is that. No hard feelings, eh? And don’t tell me I need to rest. I’ll soon be enjoying the long sleep, drifting between the stars in a Roman sarcophagus. Fine way to go, actually.”
“You are aware that I did quietly suggest to the optio that that would be the best course of action regarding the disposal of your body, and indeed Colonel Kalinski’s if it came to that. As opposed to depositing your corpses in the recycling tanks.”
“Don’t spare my feelings, will you?”
“After all, we hail from another timeline. Your bodies may contain pathogens exotic to this reality. And both of your bodies contain foreign elements, even dental work, for example, which might be harmful in the ship’s food chain.”
“Ha! Oh, don’t make me laugh, ColU. Now I have an image of my false teeth chewing their way out of some fat legionary’s gut.”
“Well, you don’t wear false teeth, Yuri Eden. But the image is an amusing one.”