I hope you live to see colonies established and the human race thriving on other worlds. It's a good dream.
I hope these crippled children I have with me find something interesting to do with their lives after I'm dead.
I hope Sister Carlotta and Poke are there to meet me when I die. Sister Carlotta can tell me I told you so. And I can tell them both how sorry I am that I couldn't save their lives, after all the trouble they went to, to save mine.
Enough. Time to switch on the gravity regulator and get this boat out to sea.
From: Graff%pilgrimage@colmin.gov
To: Bean@Whereverthehelliam
Re: You did enough
You did enough, Bean. You only had a little time, and you sacrificed so much of it to helping Peter and me and Mazer. All that time that could have belonged to Petra and you and your babies. You did enough. Peter can take it from here.
As for all that God business—I don't think the real God has as bad a track record as you think. Sure, a lot of people have terrible lives, by some measure. But I can't think of anybody who's had it tougher than you. And look what you've become. You don't want to give God the credit because you don't think he exists. But if you're going to blame him for all the crap, kid, you got to give him credit for what grows from that fertilized soil.
What you said about Petra getting a real father for your kids. I know you weren't talking about yourself. But I have to say it, because it's true, and you deserve to hear it.
Bean, I'm proud of you. I'm proud of myself because I actually got to know you. I remember sitting there after you figured out what was really going on in the war against the Buggers. What do I do with this kid? We can't keep a secret from him.
What I decided was: I'll trust him.
You lived up to my trust. You exceeded it. You're a great soul. I looked up to you long before you got so tall.
You did ok.
The plebiscite was over in Russia and it joined the FPE. The Muslim League was broken up and the most belligerent nations had been subdued, for now. Armenia was safe.
Petra sent her army home on the same civilian trains that had brought them to Moscow.
It had taken a year.
During that time she missed her babies. But she couldn't bear to see them. She refused to let them be brought to her. She refused to take even a brief leave to see them.
Because she knew that when she came home, there would only be five of them. And the two she knew the best and therefore loved the best would not be there.
Because she knew that she would have to face the rest of her life without Bean.
So she kept herself busy—and there was no shortage of important work to do. She told herself—next week I'll take a leave and go home.
Then her father came to her and bulled his way past the aides and clerks that fenced her off from the outside world. Truth to tell, they were probably glad to see him and let him through. Because Petra was hell on wheels and terrified everybody around her.
Father came to her with an attitude of steel. "Get out of here," he said.
"What are you talking about?"
"Your mother and I lost half your childhood because they took you away. You're cheating yourself out of some of the sweetest time in the lives of your children. Why? What are you afraid of? The great soldier, and babies terrify you?"
"I don't want this conversation," she said. "I'm an adult. I make my own decisions."
"You don't grow out of being my daughter." Father said. Then he loomed over her, and for a moment she had a childish fear that he was going to ... to ... spank her.
All he did was put his arms around her and hug her. Tight.
"You're suffocating me, Papa."
"Then it's working."
"I mean it."
"If you have breath to argue with me, then I'm not done."
She laughed.
He let her out of the hug but still held her shoulders. "You wanted these children more than anything, and you were right. Now you want to avoid them because you think you can't bear the grief of the ones that aren't there. And I tell you, you're wrong. And I know. Because I was there for Stefan, during all the years you were gone. I didn't hide from him because I didn't have you."
"I know you're right," said Petra. "You think I'm stupid? I didn't decide not to see them. I just kept putting it off."
"Your mother and I have written to Peter, begging him to order you home. And all he said was, She'll come when she can't help it."
"You couldn't listen to him? He is the Hegemon of the whole world."
"Not even half the world yet," said Father. "And he might be Hegemon of nations, but he's got no authority inside my family."
"Thank you for coming, Papa. I'm demobilizing my troops tomorrow and sending them home across borders where they won't need passports because it's all part of the Free People of Earth. I did something while I was here. But now I'm done. I was going home anyway. But now I'll do it because you told me to. See? I'm willing to be obedient, as long as you order me to do what I was going to do anyway."
The Free People of Earth had four capitals now—Bangkok had been added to Rwanda, Rotterdam, and Blackstream. But it was Blackstream—Ribeirão Preto—where the Hegemon lived. And that was where Peter had had her children moved. He hadn't even asked her permission and it made her furious when he informed her what he had done. But she was busy in Russia and Peter said that Rotterdam wasn't home to her and it wasn't home to him and he was going home, and keeping her kids where he could make sure they were getting cared for. So it was Brazil she came home to. And it did feel good. Moscow's winter had been a nightmare, even worse than Armenia's winters. And she liked the feel of Brazil, the pace of life, the way they moved, the football in the streets, the way they were never quite dressed, the music of the Portuguese language coming out of the neighborhood bars along with batuque and samba and laughter and the pungent smell of pinga.
She took a car part of the way but then paid him and told him to deliver her bags to the compound and she walked the rest of the way. Without actually planning it, she found herself walking past the little house where she and Bean had lived when they weren't inside the compound.
The house had been changed. She realized: It was connected to the house next door by a couple of rooms added in, and the garden wall between them had been torn down. It was one big house now.
What a shame. They can't leave well enough alone.
Then she saw the name on the little sign on the wall beside the gate.
Delphiki.
She opened the gate without clapping hands for permission. She knew now what had happened, but she also couldn't believe that Peter had gone to such trouble.
She opened the door and walked in and...
There was Bean's mother in the kitchen, making something that had a lot of olives and garlic in it.
"Oh," said Petra. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you—I thought you were in Greece."
The smile on Mrs. Delphiki's face was all the answer Petra needed. "Of course you come in, it's your house. I'm the visitor. Welcome home!"
"You came to—you're here to take care of the babies."
"We work for the FPE now. And our jobs brought us here. But I couldn't stand to be away from my grandchildren. I took a leave of absence. Now I cook, and change nasty diapers, and scream at the empregadas."
"Where are the..."
"Naptime!" said Mrs. Delphiki. "But I promise you, little Andrew, he's only faking. He never sleeps, whenever I go in his eyes are just a little tiny bit open."