"They won't know me," said Petra.
She dismissed that with a wave. "Of course not. But you think they're going to remember that? Nothing that happens before age three."
"I'm so glad to see you. Did ... did he say good-bye to you?"
"He wasn't sentimental that way," said Mrs. Delphiki. "But yes, he called us. And sent us nice letters. I think it hit Nikolai harder than us, because he knew Julian better. From Battle School, you know. But Nikolai is married now, did you know? So pretty soon, maybe another grandchild. Not that we have a shortage. You and Julian did very well by us."
"If I'm very quiet and don't wake them, can I go see them?"
"We divided them into two rooms. Andrew shares one room with Bella, because he never sleeps, but she can sleep through anything. Julian and Petra and Ramon are in the other room. They need it dimmer. But if you wake them, it's not a problem. All their cribs have the sides down because they climb out anyway."
"They're walking?"
"Running. Climbing. Falling off things. They're more than a year old, Petra! They're normal children!"
It almost set her off, because it reminded her of the children who weren't normal. But that wasn't what Mrs. Delphiki meant, and there was no reason to punish her for a chance remark by bursting into tears.
So the two who bore the names of the children she grieved for most were sharing a room. She had courage enough to face this. She went there first.
Nothing about these babies reminded her of the ones who were gone. They were so big. Toddlers, not babies now. And, true to reputation, Andrew's eyes were already open. He turned to look at her.
She smiled at him.
He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.
Well, let him retreat and decide what he thinks of me. I'm not going to demand that they love me when they don't even know me.
She walked to Bella's crib. She was sleeping hard, her black curls tight and wet against her head. The Delphiki genetic heritage was so complicated. Bella really showed Bean's African roots. Whereas Andrew looked Armenian, period.
She touched one of Bella's curls and the girl didn't stir. Her cheek was hot and damp.
She's mine, thought Petra.
She turned and saw that Andrew was sitting up in bed, regarding her soberly. "Hello, Mama," he said.
It took her breath away.
"How did you know me?"
"Picture," he said.
"Do you want to get up?"
He looked at the clock on the top of the dresser. "Not time."
These were normal children?
How would Mrs. Delphiki know what normal was, anyway? Nikolai wasn't exactly stupid.
Though they weren't so brilliant. They were both wearing diapers.
Petra walked over to Andrew and held out her hand. What do I think he is, a dog that I give my hand to sniff?
Andrew took hold of a couple of her fingers, just for a moment, as if to make sure she was real. "Hello, Mama."
"May I kiss you?"
He lifted his face and puckered up. She leaned down and kissed him.
The touch of his hands. The feel of his little kiss. The curl on Bella's cheek. What had she been waiting for? Why had she been afraid? Fool. I'm a fool.
Andrew lay back down and closed his eyes. As Mrs. Delphiki had warned, it was completely unbelievable. She could see the whites of his eyes through the partly-open slits.
"I love you," she whispered.
"Loveyoutoo," murmured Andrew.
Petra was glad that someone had said those words to him so often that the answer came by rote.
She crossed the hall into the other room. It was much darker. She couldn't see well enough to dare to cross the room. It took a few moments for her eyes to grow used to the dark and make out the three beds.
Would she know Ramon when she saw him?
Someone moved to her left. She was startled, and she was a soldier. In a moment she was in a defensive crouch, ready to spring.
"Only me," whispered Peter Wiggin.
"You didn't have to come and—"
He held a finger to his lips. He walked over to the farthest crib. "Ramon," he whispered.
She came and stood over the crib.
Peter reached down and flipped something. A paper.
"What is it?" she asked. In a whisper.
He shrugged.
If he didn't know what it was, why had he pointed it out to her?
She pulled it out from under Ramon. It was an envelope, but it didn't contain much.
Peter took her gently by the elbow and guided her out the door. Once they were in the hall, he said softly, "You can't read in that light. And when Ramon wakes up, he's going to look for it and be very upset if it isn't there."
"What is it?"
"Ramon's paper," said Peter. "Petra, Bean put it there before he left. I mean, not there. It was in Rotterdam. But he tucked it under Ramon's diaper as he was lying asleep in bed. He meant you to find it there. So it's been there every night of his life. It's only been peed on twice."
"From Bean."
The emotion she could deal with best was anger. "You knew he had written this and—"
Peter kept the both of them moving out of the hall and into the parlor. "He didn't give it to me or anyone else to deliver. Unless you count Ramon. He gave it to Ramon's butt."
"But to make me wait a year before—"
"Nobody thought it would be a year, Petra." He said it very gently, but the truth of it stung. He always had the power to sting her, and yet he never shrank from doing it.
"I'll leave you alone to read it," he said.
"You mean you didn't come here for my homecoming so you could find out what was in it?"
"Petra." Mrs. Delphiki stood in the doorway to the parlor. She looked mildly shocked. "Peter didn't come here for you. He's here all the time."
Petra looked at Peter and then back and Mrs. Delphiki. "Why?"
"They climb all over him. And he puts them down for their nap. They obey him a lot better than me."
The thought of the Hegemon of Earth coming over to play with her children seemed freakish to her. And then it seemed worse than freakish. It seemed completely unfair. She pushed him. "You came to my house and played with my children?"
He didn't show any reaction; he also stood his ground. "They're great kids."
"Let me find that out, will you? Let me find it out for myself!"
"Nobody's stopping you."
"You were stopping me! I was doing your work in Moscow, and you were here playing with my kids!"
"I offered to bring them to you."
"I didn't want them in Moscow, I was busy."
"I offered you leave to come home. Time after time."
"And let the work fall apart?"
"Petra," said Mrs. Delphiki. "Peter has been very good to your children. And to me. And you're behaving very badly."
"No, Mrs. Delphiki," said Peter. "This is only slightly badly. Petra's a trained soldier and the fact that I'm still standing—"
"Don't tease me out of this." Petra burst into tears. "I've lost a year of my babies' lives and it was my own fault, do you think I don't know that?"
There was a crying sound from one of the bedrooms.
Mrs. Delphiki rolled her eyes and went down the hall to rescue whoever it was that needed rescuing.
"You did what you had to do," said Peter. "Nobody's criticizing you."
"But you could take time for my children."
"I don't have any of my own," said Peter.