Vanya's Journals, Chapter 53: An Unexpected Visit This is a cardboard-bound journal. Its dwarven script flows in an elven manner, which is a rare sight. You wonder for a moment how Vanya could know elven at all, given the fact that she arrived at the mountainhome when she was three. There doesn't seem to be any clear explanation, unless it could possibly be that there's something she's intentionally not writing in her journals... But what, you wonder, would she keep so hidden? I'd never looked at it that way before... I'd never thought that I could be responsible for Salaia's death. Maybe I'd blamed myself, but I'd always thought it was Urist who killed her, all by himself. He fired the bullets that killed her, yes, but... it was so hard to take in; so hard to accept.
Katie sat on her bed in silence, staring at me in a sort of empathetic pity. "Vanya..." she began.
Turning away quickly towards the door, I brushed the tears from my eyes and waved her off. "Katie, don't," I whispered. I wanted to be comforted, but at the same time... I'd realized what a horrible, horrible person I was. I'd blamed Urist the entire time, when it hadn't been his fault at all. He'd wanted to protect me, and if I'd done what I was supposed to, Salaia wouldn't even have been there for him to shoot. It wouldn't have been hard to evade her, and I
could have. If it wasn't for me, she'd still be alive.
All I wanted was to hide away where no one could see me, and cry.
At dinner, I hardly noticed the food. Katie and her father argued, but I can't remember what they said. There was only one thing on my mind... and it was the one thing I didn't want to think about.
After Mr. Kenzon retired to his room, Katie tried to comfort me again. Though she did her best, I just felt so empty... like there was a gap in my soul. Nothing could fill that void, not even a friend... I'd devoted my life to protecting Salaia, and in the end... I'd done far worse than simply failing.
I killed my sister.
Eventually, Katie asked me to write down what I was feeling, in the journal she'd given me. "It might help," she suggested. I only told her that I'd consider it, and though unsatisfied, she gave up and left.
After standing for a while, so many thoughts whirling through my unwilling mind, I went to that darkened corner of the sitting room and curled up on a soft, white chair. Taking my new journal and pen out of the plastic bag I'd brought them home in, I opened it up to the first page. I was going to write about my sister, partially because Katie had asked me to, and partially to try to straighten it all out in my mind. I hoped that somehow, it would ease the pain.
It took me several minutes to get started... I was out of the habit of writing journals, and I sat there idly, tapping the pen against my lips. I'd made my last entry at Spearbreakers, I remembered, before the third mission to Ballpoint. That gave me enough to start with.
You're not in Kansas anymore, I wrote.
Those were the first words I heard when I set foot inside this place... Yes, they're odd first words... I think it's a reference to a book or something.
It's been a long time since I wrote a journal entry, but apparently, I'm supposed to now. I guess I don't really have a problem with it... I just wish I had my old journals with me. I don't want to write my stores all over again.
I stood in Mr Frog's laboratory, wearing my old Ballpoint suit...~~~
The next morning I awoke to a peaceful beam of sunlight shining through the window. Somehow, in such an ordered place, I expected to hear time bells chiming the hour, like in Spearbreakers... They'd always awoken me before.
As I lay there, the thought occurred to me that I didn't even know what time it was. It might even be late in the afternoon, for all I knew, and I flung back the covers, getting out of bed in a hurry. With a little more caution, I hid behind my door as I opened it and peeked out, looking to see if anyone was awake. Katie was sitting on a sofa in the sitting room, tapping at her new PEA with a finger. She didn't seem very concerned about the time, and that eased my worries. Quietly, I closed the door back and began getting dressed, putting on what I'd worn the day before. It was all I had, besides my armor.
Several minutes later, I was sitting on the stool in front of the dressing table, staring blankly at the mirror. It seemed that the demons that had troubled me the night before weren't going to go away just because I'd slept: I was trying to imagine Salaia's face in place of mine.
A soft knock at the door startled me to my feet, and I had to catch the stool with my fingertips to keep from knocking it over. "Are you awake?" someone called quietly, their voice muffled.
I hastened towards the sound, turning the knob and opening the door a crack.
Katie's worried face looked back at me. She smiled, but it quickly faded. "Are you feeling any better?" she asked, concerned.
Nodding, I answered, "Mhm," and opened the door the rest of the way, slipping out past her. "How late is it?"
"It's not noon yet," she replied, walking ahead to the kitchen. "You need to eat – we'll be getting groceries today. Or..." She stopped short before the dining room, casting an anxious, worried glance over her shoulder. "I could get them myself, if you want to stay here."
"I'll be okay."
Breakfast was the same as the day before... it was cereal. I'm sad to say it had already lost its novelty... bits of food floating in a liquid isn't really much more than a strange form of soup. I'm not sure why the people of Parasol seem to like it so much, apart from how quickly you could eat it. Then again, the breakfast bars Mr Frog had always given me were even faster to eat, and you could carry them around wherever you went. Cereal didn't really have any advantages.
Katie sat across from me, watching me eat almost eagerly with her intense, blue eyes. "We need to get you more clothes," she said disapprovingly.
It was so abrupt and unexpected that I almost laughed, but stopped, confused. "But you gave me these yesterday... They're clean, too... why can't I wear them?"
She laughed at my naïveté. "You can't wear the same thing every day. You have to have a selection of things to choose from. Oh, and clothes
always look better after they've been hanging up, not rumpled and wrinkled like that blouse."
Glancing down, I almost knocked my bowl over. "It's not that wrinkled," I protested as I looked it over. "There are only a few wrinkle lines in it, and they're harder to see than they could be."
"Careful with your milk!" Katie warned, laughing. "Wrinkles look bad on that blouse. But don't worry – I'll help you out later today, maybe, after we go and get groceries... and maybe a few other things." The familiar, impish smile stole across her face, but her eyes were sad, as if she was only faking it for my benefit. "Look at me – my clothes aren't wrinkled, see? They've been hanging up in my wardrobe." She was wearing a short black dress, and a fancy, faded pink jacket with puffy upper sleeves, her hair draped around to one side. From where she sat, I couldn't see her legs, but I was sure she was wearing knee-length black boots... it seemed to be her favorite thing to wear.
"I see," I told her, nodding. She looked pretty, really... enough that imagining her in the military seemed ridiculous. It wasn't the last time that I wondered why she'd joined.
"C'mon, finish eating and let's go," Katie finally said, interrupting my silence as she stood and started walking towards the sitting room. "We should try to beat the afternoon rush, and I'm going to need to fix your hair again. We aren't so tight on time anymore, so I'll be able to do a better job."
Katie spent some time fussing with my hair before we left, almost seeming to enjoy it the same way she had the day before, though I didn't much like the way she pulled at it. Really, I'd never bothered much with my hair at all. "Grandma always used to put my hair up," she'd explained in an innocent bliss as she twirled it with a comb. "I've never had anyone to do it for."
"I don't want it to look special," I stated carefully, feeling the urge to brace myself against something as she continued to tug. "I just want to blend in."
She laughed. "You'll be fine," she assured me. "I didn't have enough time to fix it how I wanted yesterday, but you'll look great, I promise!"
Watching her in the mirror, I saw her reach for the scissors. "Don't cut my hair!" I shouted suddenly, twisting away from her in a panic and holding a hand up to defend myself, worriedly feeling about with the other to make sure she hadn't removed anything. It hadn’t grown out all the way, but it was getting there, and I hated how short he'd left it.
"Calm down!" Katie said, astounded at my reaction. "Quit freaking out! I'm just going to trim it! You won't lose anything."
"That's what Mr Frog said, and I barely had any left!" My voice sounded almost accusing.
Katie quickly sat the scissors down on the countertop and walked towards me with a hurt expression, hands raised. "Look, I put them down. See? Let me just show you."
Untrustingly, I let her approach. Even now, I'm not sure why I'm so sensitive about my hair... I guess it's just part of who I am, like being afraid of small spaces, or how I can't sing, or how I used to like puppies and dogs.
With a quick, deft motion, she swept up a lock of my hair in her hand, evening it out with a brush she snatched from her pocket, and held it up for me to see. "This is all I'm cutting off, okay?" An array of short, uneven hairs poked out from between her fingers. "You haven't been taking care of your hair, and you have split ends."
My throat felt constricted as I swallowed. "Okay..." I said uneasily.
She picked the scissors back up and made a few quick snips across her fingers, scooping up first one, then another lock of hair, evening them off. "See? I'm already done... Why were you freaking out, anyway?"
I felt at my hair, and there didn't really seem to be anything missing, which half-surprised me. A few short tips lay on the floor at my feet, but other than that, I couldn't tell any difference. "I don't know..." I lied, feeling a little guilty for not being comfortable with telling her. When I was little, my grandfather used to threaten that he would cut off the tips of my ears to make me look more like a dwarf, using a pair of haircutting scissors... it's a fear I've had ever since. I know it's irrational, but it's so hard to get rid of things like that. I didn't think Katie would understand.
After a quick brushing and a hair clip, she decided she was done. Then, once she'd offered a few brushing tips, we were out the door, headed to the elevator across the hall.
The "mall" wasn't really a "mall," if you go by the definition Katie gave me... it was more a mishmash of every kind of store you could think of, separated by wide, dim walkways beneath metal roofs high above. If you needed something, you could find it there... a trip to the food-related side showed me this. I'd never seen so much food in one place, and it was all sitting out where people could get to it. They would pick up what they wanted, take it to the cashier, and buy it. In Spearbreakers, you simply chose from what the cook was cooking, or what you could find preserved in a barrel. Here, they expected you to do the storage and cooking yourself.
Baking items, condiments, meat, vegetables and more all went into the baskets I was carrying. Katie led me around excitedly, explaining whatever came to mind as the baskets in my hands grew heavier and heavier. At first, she seemed very happy – she even declared she was going to teach me how to bake. Unfortunately, the longer we continued our little trip, the more it became obvious that something was bothering her.
While we walked down a frozen food aisle, I ventured the question, "Katie, is something wrong?"
Her eyebrows came together worriedly. "It's Saemin's mother... She should've been there yesterday. Did you see her anywhere?"
I didn't even know who she was, and I shook my head apologetically.
"It's not like her," Katie whispered, staring at her feet in troubled confusion. "She
loved Saemin. She wouldn't skip his awards ceremony. She would honor him by being there."
"Maybe she had to go to work?" I suggested.
She pursed her lips, tilting her head and giving me a troubled look. "Don't compare her to my dad, Vanya," she chided gently. "My dad doesn't love me anywhere
near as much as Saemin's mother loved him. She should have been there... I think something else is going on."
"Like what?"
"Like..." She stopped and gave it some thought, but she didn't seem to be able to come up with anything. Suddenly, she burst out, "I don't
know what! I was always good friends with her. Dad never liked Saemin, but Saemin's family always liked
me. We were good friends, and I
know them. Something isn't right."
I nodded to say I understood, and then guessed at what she was leading up to. "Are we going to go figure out what's going on?"
She smiled. Giving a sharp nod, she answered, "Of course. I want to find out why she wasn't there, and I want to help if I can."
"Should we put all this back?" I asked, wondering. She spun around to see what I was talking about, and I lifted up the two heavy baskets of food.
"No," Katie said decidedly, "We'll take it with us. I said I wanted to help, remember?"
After Katie had paid for everything, we headed towards Saemin's old house... which, according to her, wasn't too far away. We still had to take a hovertaxi.
Flying was amazing. Until Mr Frog had taught me otherwise, I'd always thought air travel impossible, but Parasol didn't really have roads... all the vehicles flew through the air. Even then, as excited as I was, Katie tried to keep me busy showing me a "video game" on her new PEA. I didn't take too much interest in it, really... There's so much to do in life – why would anyone waste time on a game you have to play by yourself?
Before long, the hovertaxi set us down in a narrow corridor before it took back off into the sky with a intrusive hum, its white underside blending with the grayish clouds above as it faded into the distance. We were actually outside for once, and I loved it. At least, I did at first.
Metal doors lined the ground level in the little roofless corridor, but the white paint was peeling in places, and grimy in others. Graffiti marked the walls, and it wasn't all in Dwarven, either. A lot of it was in languages I couldn't even read. It was the first place that really looked like people lived there.
"This doesn't feel as... artificial as everything else," I noted thoughtfully as we walked down the slum-like corridor. "It's so cold, though..." It was more than cold; it was frigid, and the wind nipped at my nose and ears, making them sting. I couldn't help but shiver a little, and I wished I'd had a jacket to bring with me, like Katie's pink one.
"Parasol is a cold planet," Katie whispered. "They say Ballpoint is hot, but here, it's always cold. It's not a real planet, so heating it costs a lot. ...And keep your voice down! Security doesn't patrol the low-income housing as much, and we don't want to attract attention." She paused for a moment and took her purse from her shoulder, slipping it into one of the plastic bags of food she was carrying. I paused while she did, guessing she was trying to keep anyone from thinking we were carrying money. It made me nervous.
After she was done, we continued forwards. In a whisper, she called my attention to how there were ladders on the lower walls leading to upper balconies, and alleyways on the second floors, and other balconies higher and higher into the sky. After I'd run away from home, I'd visited a number of dwarven fortresses with a bedroom scheme eerily similar.
"Tens of thousands of people live here," Katie told me, looking above us at the sliver of sky visible between the towering stacks of balconies. It was hard to believe: we didn't see anyone at all. It almost felt abandoned... the inhabitants had blocked access to the windows, either barring them, boarding them up, or welding over them with sheets of metal... Katie said it wasn't so much because nobody lived there, and more to keep thieves away.
"I thought Parasol was a company," I said softly as we climbed a set of stairs to the second-floor balcony. "How does it have problems with crime?"
"
Everyone has problems with crime," Katie pointed out in a whisper. "It's just that Security doesn't come here as much. Protecting wealthier people gets them paid more, and it isn't as dangerous. Here, people hate Security, and see them as stuck-up and immoral. Elsewhere people like them. It's just how things are." She paused for a moment. "And it has its own economy... I guess it's sort of part company, and part nation... like Ballpoint."
Conversation came to a standstill as a dirty, tangle-bearded, tattooed dwarf shuffled down the walkway towards us, a bottle of booze in one hand. He eyed us shiftily for a moment, and my heart beat faster as we approached each other. Sensing my apprehension, Katie reached behind her and took my hand in hers, squeezing it softly. She was shaking... she'd been there before, but she was just afraid as I was.
Fortunately, the man passed us without incident, and Katie and I let out a sigh of immense relief.
"It's always like this," she whispered. "It's just how life is down here. You stay quiet and hope nobody notices you, or you get mugged."
I followed her down a side passage into an enclosed alleyway, and we passed one door after another, first on the left, then on the right... The layout reminded me a little of Parasol's trench back on Everoc. It was almost as dirty, too.
It wasn't long before Katie stopped in front of a particularly worn-out door. "We don't knock," she explained in a quiet voice, holding her head close to mine. "We ring the doorbell." Turning, she pressed a button next to the door, but nothing seemed to happen.
"Is it broken?" I asked. "I thought they were supposed to make noise..."
"They
do, but only inside," she whispered in return.
We straightened as the door opened a crack, an eye appearing to give a wary examination. Katie seemed pleased, and her mood lightened my apprehension a little. Unfortunately, the door closed back just as quickly.
"Was that it?" I whispered unhappily. I was disappointed that we'd come all that way for so little, but before Katie had any chance to answer, the door opened wide.
The tall, muscled woman spoke slowly, age apparent in her voice. "Katie, welcome. I haven't saw you for a long while. And Vanya... it is good to see you, also."
"Eltsha?!" I blurted, staring in astonishment at the old woman leaning on her cane. "
You're Saemin's mother?"
Looking back, it shouldn't have come as a surprise... but it was, all the same.
☆
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Topic: [34.11] Spearbreakers - It shudders and begins to move (Read 2278303 times)