The mothers described it as a particular wave of emotion—sudden fear when a child is in danger, a sharp tenderness associated with duty, or heartbreak when a child is in pain—that could part the veil. Once parted, the veil would release a mother from the unit’s bond, and she could temporarily detach, with her own unique section of the veil draped over her.
Laki was full of emotions—primarily anger and rage—but those were useless in a mother-unit. At each training session, she thought of gruesome situations, awful things that would put the lives of innocent babies in peril, but it never worked. No matter what she tried, the cloak remained unmoved.
Maybe it was the pull of Mahini’s voices, maybe it was Se-se leaning over her, but suddenly Laki broke through the mania of grief. She felt the sensation of the cloak falling over her again. But this time, instead of clinging to her, it laid cool and soft on her skin. It felt like the comforting presence her mothers had promised it would become, the gentle companion it had been becoming in Laki’s last days of training.
The memory of the one time she had parted through the veil burst into her consciousness, and pulled her further out of her turmoil. She had been under the veil, drowning in failure, when the thought had blossomed: “I bet Se-se could do it.” Her fear of never learning how to exit the veil was buried under a forceful flood of tenderness for her sister. Then it had happened—a small hole of unmoving air had appeared in the middle of the cloak’s shimmer.
Laki, smiling at the memory, was surprised to feel her dread of the veil slip away. Yes, she could not escape the veil, yet the grip of failure relaxed. She allowed that simple success to part her panic and slice open an exit through her grief. She was suddenly buoyed by the certainty that, with Se-se guiding in her, she would always learn the way out.
Laki heard a whispering, felt someone cushion her head. Her eyes fluttered open. Seconds passed while she stared at the face before her, a few more seconds passed before she realized it was Se-se.
“I thought…” Laki said, swallowing back tears. “I thought I’d dreamed that you were here.”
“I’m here, Laki.”
Laki looked at her sister and felt both relief and a soft sadness descending. In the wake of those all-too-real memories with the veil, sadness was a sweet emotion—a reprieve from her mother-unit anxieties and a welcome respite from her rage. She gripped Se-se’s hands and smiled apologies and love at her. Time and space suspended as everything around them fell away. When their hearts had been silently emptied, Se-se and Laki snapped out of their trance.
Laki let go of Se-se’s hands and looked around. “What happened to the party?”
None of Laki’s guests had left the party, but there was no dancing, no laughing, and no fondling. Everyone was gathered around, watching the sisters. Everyone except Mahini—there was no sign of them.
“Can someone put the music back on?” Se-se asked.
Someone put music on, but the mood was permanently broken.
Se-se helped Laki sit up. “The pods are ready. Are you ready to go?” she whispered.
“Go? Where are we going?”
Before Se-se could answer, the party started to dissolve. A friend of Laki’s came over with outstretched arms. Laki rose from the floor, fully recovered from her outburst. She was, once again, animated and enigmatic. She was passionate with her goodbyes, effusive with her embraces. A few times, she jokingly pretended to faint as punctuation in conversations, and each time Se-se jumped, arms outstretched, ready to catch Laki before she fell.
When the party had shrunken to just a handful of pods, Se-se linked her arm with Laki’s and guided her toward their pods.
“Mahini was at my good-bye party!” Laki murmured.
“Am I the only one who didn’t know they were a mother-unit?” Se-se asked.
Laki burst into soft laughter as Se-se pulled her away from the center of the party so they could disconnect from the other pods together. As they left behind the stragglers, partygoers who were unconscious or profoundly high, Se-se looked Laki deep in the eyes.
“I want you to follow me.”
“Follow you where?”
Se-se didn’t answer. She peeled a patch of material from the interior of her pod’s wall.
“Where’s your navigation panel?” she asked.
Laki waved her hand over a nondescript curve of her pod’s wall, and the navigation panel folded out. Se-se pressed the patch from her pod onto Laki’s navigation panel and waved it shut.
“Just follow me,” Se-se said.
Laki sat down on the floor and watched Se-se walk to the opposite side of their joined pods.
“Tomorrow I take the veil,” she said to Se-se drowsily and lay down on the floor.
As their pods separated, Laki slipped into sleep. She remained asleep as her pod followed Se-se’s around star bars and conjoined pods into the far reaches of the rendezvous-less zone.
Laki opened her eyes when she felt Se-se shaking her. She stayed awake long enough to see that they were still in the Stretch, then she put her head back down and fell asleep again. Se-se sighed. She began waving her hands over various segments of Laki’s pod, looking for the gas module. Her random searching finally coaxed a bulb-shaped protrusion from the wall of Laki’s pod. When Se-se squeezed the bulb, the funky scent of ancient incense squirted into the pod. She turned the bulb and squeezed again. The sweet scent of newborn babies wafted out. She turned the bulb once more. This time a sharp menthol scent shot into the pod. Se-se coughed and rubbed her nose. She squeezed the bulb two more times and pushed it back into the wall. When the pod was filled with the tang of menthol, Laki started to stir. Finally her eyes snapped open.
“I’m up, are we home? Are the mothers awake?”
Se-se pulled Laki to her feet. Laki saw the darkness of the Stretch and groaned.
“I’m tired, Se-se. What are we still doing here?”
“You’ll see soon.”
She fiddled with the robe Laki had fashioned from Mahini’s cloth. She pinched around the waist until it fit so tightly that the marriage belt protruded through the cloth.
“Can you shorten this?” Se-se asked, tugging at the hem.
“Do I have a date?” Laki asked. She looked around the darkness of the Stretch searching for another pod.
“Turn around,” Se-se said.
Laki turned and saw a pod unlike any pod she had ever seen. The walls had a smoky opaqueness that was definitely against regulations.
“This is creepy, Se-se.”
Before Laki had finished speaking, the strange pod started moving toward them. It bumped into their pods gently and began to fuse with them. The new pod’s opacity seeped into their pod walls as if assimilating them. With the loss of transparency, they lost their ability to see by starlight. Both Laki and Se-se waved their hands over the light modules in their pods. When the three pods had fully fused, Laki saw a shrouded figure standing in the middle of the opaque pod.
“Enter, please,” a steely voice commanded.
Se-se grabbed Laki’s hand to guide her forward, but Laki held her back.
The shrouded figure walked toward them, entering their pods. The figure stopped in front of Laki and overtly inspected her.
Laki turned to Se-se, eyes glittering with anger. “What is going on?”
“Shhhh,” whispered Se-se.
The steely voice spoke again.
“You were right, she is stunning.” The figure threw off her cloak and stretched her hand out to Se-se. “I accept your offer.”