Chapter 4

**

I find him pacing on the balcony of his quarters, cursing in a monotone. "Patrick?"

"What? Come to give me a lecture? I’m surprised she let you leave her august presence…"

"Whoah, doggies… let’s back up for a minute." I stand, arms akimbo, and wait for him to meet my eyes. Now I feel the anger, as well as the relief, rushing forth, and I want to smack him and hug him, all at the same time. I know your fanny’s on fire, my boyo, I think, and grin a bit.

"What’s so funny?" He comes to face me, and I see his eyes are sparkling with anger. His face is flushed, and his fists are clenched tightly by his sides. This is the angriest I’ve ever seen you, my only son, I wonder. Is there something more than what just happened going on?

"Patrick, you need to calm down for a minute…"

"Shit, calm down. Not only did I have to see my mother, all naked and sweaty, serving her muhmis, I get the hell knocked out of me for a simple mistake… and now I have to be calm? Yeah, right…" He turns to walk away, body tense as a steel spring, and I reach out and grasp an arm firmly.

"Listen to me, young man, and listen well. I just got my butt whipped over you, and it’s time we had a talk about this. I can’t protect you, Pat; you’re a young man now. And yeah, what you did was kinda dumb. Why didn’t you just call me? I could have answered you…"

"You were too damn busy!"

I roll my eyes, letting my frustration vent in a long sigh. "Listen to me… you’ve known, ever since you were old enough to figure stuff out, that I serve Gwen that way, as well as many other ways. That’s sort of a fact of life as we know it now. Why’s that become such a big deal? I know it’s kinda icky to see your mom doing "it", but it’s not like we made you watch or something. I’ve always been honest about this stuff with you, and answered all your questions…"

"Yeah," in a voice heavy with sarcasm. "You’re really good at that."

My eyes fill with tears, much against my will. "Patrick, try to talk with me about this. You’re being ornery as hell. Why? It’s not just the confrontation with Gwen, is it?"

"Why the hell do you give a damn? Just go get back on your knees to your darling ‘Muhmis’, why don’t—"

My hand cracks across his face. I hadn’t even thought about hitting him; I’ve never hit him in anger before. My hand stings, and a red welt rises on his cheek. "Patrick Kane d’Ingolfsson, don’t talk to me like that. I’m your mother, and I thought we were friends. What the hell is the matter with you?"

He turns stiffly away, hunching his shoulders. "Like I said, you’re so good at explaining things…"

Aarrghh…why are adolescents so damn hard to talk to sometimes? I grind out to myself, and try to focus on communicating, not fighting. I’m already sort of ashamed I slapped him. "Patrick, please try to explain what you mean, please? I don’t understand. What’s going on?"

There’s a moment’s silence, and then he turns to me. "You never explained that Draka can’t love humans, you never told me… you never did, and now I’m an idiot. Maybe I was a fool to think…" His voice cracks, and I reach out to him, slowly. He backs away, wiping savagely at his face. Tears slip down his tanned cheeks regardless. "Maybe… but you never told me, and you’re in love with her…"

"Wait a second…who am I in love with? Gwen? I don’t think so… I mean, I like her a great deal, personally, and trust her, but there’s always that edge of fear, or the thing about being owned. What are you talking about… what do you mean I didn’t tell you Draka can’t fall in love with humans? I don’t…" I suddenly stop, aware now of what he must be talking about. "You and Alexandra, Patrick? Is that what you’re upset about?"

"Like it matters to you, you Glitch-forsaken…"

"Hey, you want to start a cussing war, just remember I’m a Swabbie, kid. I can outcuss you any day. But that’s not answering my question. Did you tell Alexandra you were in love with her today, or something, and it didn’t work out the way you thought it would?"

No answer from the sulking young man across from me, and that’s answer enough. "When did this happen, Pat?" My voice is gentle.

"This afternoon… after we spent it together, after dinner…" He crosses his arms in front of him and stares at me, almost in challenge.

"Honey, we’ve talked some about this. Don’t shake your head no, we have, too. You belong to her, like I belong to Gwen. That’s the way life is right now. And you can like the Draka personally, you can like them a lot. But I just don’t think they’re able to love us like they can another Draka. They may enjoy us a great deal, and have favorites, but even that has boundaries, limits… Gwen and I’ve talked a little about this, trying to define our words clearly, our meanings… not only is it a cultural difference, for them it’s almost a physical difference. They’re wired to be protective of us, their saafn, and to enjoy guiding us, as well as dominating us, but they can only ‘love’ another Draka, and that’s fairly rare."

He stands before me, silhouetted against the night sky. We have to get this ironed out before it’s time for him to leave on the exercise, I remind myself, and reach out, pulling him to me. I feel him stiffen like a board as I hold him, unyielding, in my arms, and I stroke his hair. Suddenly, like a branch snapping, he becomes more pliant, and hugs me back, sniffling softly against my shoulder. Of course, he’s taller than I am, so he’s bending down some, but I hug and rock him gently.

"Patrick, oh, honey… you told her you love her, right?" A nod against my shoulder, and a stifled sniff. "And she told you what? Did you have words, or something?"

"Yeah, Mama. I guess. She just acted so surprised… and then she tried to laugh about it, and I got mad, I guess. Then she got mad, and pushed me out of bed. If Vicki had been there, she could have calmed us both down, I guess… but then I got really mad, ‘cause I was crying, and she told me I was being a silly human, and to get over it," he says, his voice raw with pain.

"Then what happened, sugar?"

"I just sat there, I didn’t know what to say… I had thought she really liked me, and that maybe she loved me, like I do her… and she just sighed really loud and stalked out of the room. I got up and came looking for you, and I honest to god didn’t think of using my transducer until Muhmis Gwen asked me why I didn’t…"

"Oh, honey…" I tighten my grip on my son, my heart aching for him. "Honey… Alexandra just didn’t know what to do. Then both of you got defensive… come on, you guys can work this out. I know you can…"

He pulls away from me. "Mama, there’s something building inside me, and it’s trying to get out. I get so mad, sometimes. Like when Gwen hit you. I could have knocked her head off. And when she told you to run, and you did… then I get mad at you. For obeying. For being hers. And I’m mad about me belonging to Alexa, and I never was before. Am I going nuts or something?"

"No. You’re growing up. You’re facing the hard choices we have to make as humans right now. And like it or not, you’re starting to see me as a person, with desires, and dumb ideas, and good ideas, and lovers… I’m not just your mama anymore. That’s a big transition, all in itself, without all this other stuff, and hormones on top of everything. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes right now, but I have been there. I know you probably think I’m as old as the hills, but I actually remember being your age, honey. It’s not easy; it never is."

"But… I don’t want to be a serf."

"No one does. Well, some do… but no one that’s got a lick of sense wants to be. It’s not a game or something, where you can say a ‘safe word’ and it all stops. But when you have the choice of being a serf or being dead, my money goes on being a serf. Survival, Patrick. Survival for the human race, as humans. That’s what I’m working for. One day, we’ll be free again, but that’s not something we can be right now. We can survive, though, and try to make things better."

"Maybe. I just hate seeing you bow before her. You shouldn’t have to, and neither should I. No one should. And now I’m probably in trouble with her again. Like I am with Alexa."

"I have schooled myself, Patrick, to accept certain things. Like bowing, and serving her. Serving the Race. It could be a hell of a lot worse, like what goes on on Earth/3. That’s what I am trying to avoid here on Earth/2. And no, you’re not in trouble again, but you need to be very thoughtful about saying this stuff out in the open. You can talk to me about it, or Tom, or Alice… but you don’t want to talk with everyone about it, because that could lead to trouble. Just remember. Do you remember the talk we had about the place inside, that no one can get to? That’s the place to keep this, and think about it."

He turns, looking up at the stars after glancing at me. "I’m just…"

"What?"

There’s a long pause, and then he softly says, "I’m ashamed of you, Mama. And I feel bad, really bad, for feeling that way. But it’s the truth. I don’t want to live like this for the rest of my life, and it’s not just that I told Alexandra how I feel about her, and she thought it was funny. This’s been building for a long time…"

My heart twinges sharply at his words, and it’s hard to get a deep breath. Ashamed of me, my own flesh and blood? For surviving? For ensuring the survival of our genome? Shit. Everything I’ve sacrificed, and this kid tells me he’s ashamed of me? For a moment, rage rears her ugly head, and I feel my face redden with anger. But a deeper feeling of grief, of loss, surfaces, leaving me speechless. I stand before him, trying to see through a veil of tears standing in my eyes.

"Sorry, Mama…" he whispers, turning away. His shoulders shake, and part of me wants to fold him in my arms and make it all better. But I can’t. I can’t fix what’s broken, now.

"Patrick…" My voice breaks. "I never knew…"

"Patrick?" Alexandra calls from inside his room. "Hey, you ready to go?"

"Oh, shit, man…" He wipes his face with a sleeve, and turns back to me. "Mama… I’m sorry, but you said to always be honest. So I was. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ll work things out, okay? I will."

"Tantie-ma Erin—what are you… oh. Been talking about this afternoon? Listen, Pat, I’m sorry I laughed. I know you meant what you said…" Alexandra shifts from foot to foot, looking up into the night sky.

"I know. I understand now, more than I did. Thanks, Mama, and thanks, to you, too, Alexa. It’s cool. I’m ready to go, Alexandra. Let’s go do it—it’ll be more fun than the rest of the evening has been. It better be." He pats me clumsily on the shoulder and walks past me, and past Alexandra, into the brightness of the room beyond.

"Tantie-ma? Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you so upset? Did he say something wrong?" She puts her arm around my shoulders and snuggles against me, voice gentle and concerned.

"Naw. I’ll be okay, sweet. You run along now—don’t make Captain Bush wait on y’all," I try bravely to smile. It comes out lopsided. "Hey, Alexa… take good care of him, especially tonight? Things are changing for him… it’s one of those growing up things. Please keep an eye on him for me, okay?"

She leans down and kisses me resoundingly on the top of my head. "Sure thing, Tantie-ma. I’ll always take good care of him. We’ll work this out. I’ll sit him down tomorrow and have a heart to heart with him. I do care about him, ever so much… but I don’t, you know…"

"I know. The ‘L’ word. I understand." I grin up at her, the likeness in her face so much like Gwen, but somehow different, softer in some ways, harder in others. Clone-child, you’re becoming your own woman self now, and these changes must be as mysterious and painful to you as they are to my son, I think, looking into her leaf-green, youthful eyes.

Alexandra kisses me on the forehead, more gently, and hugs me with careful strength. She turns and walks away, into the room, and I hear the two of them talking animatedly about the night’s promised adventures as they leave to meet Captain Bush and her crew for the night exercise. Once they’ve left, the silence is loud. I stand, looking at the stars, wondering what in the world to do. My heart twinges again, and I hug myself, wishing for the millionth time that Peter was here with me.

**

"Woof!" I say, throwing down my equipment on a chair.

"Woof!" Pat grins back at me, doing likewise. There’s still something underneath, though…

"OK, Pat, you too tired or what?"

"Never too tired," he says. "Patrick Wayne d’Ingolfsson is a tower of strength!" Then he yawns.

"Yeah, you are," I laugh, looking down. "Not what I meant, though."

He stiffens slightly. I rub at the sides of my head and sigh. "You know, this stuff was all a lot simpler when we were kids… OK, I’d like to talk, and we have to sometime, but we don’t have to now, all right? So, what is it?"

Pat looks at me, then relaxes. "All right. Talk."

"Right, first things first." I take a deep breath; this isn’t easy. In fact, it isn’t easy for humans, and it’s a lot harder for me. "I apologize."

"Huh?" his jaw drops.

"I said, I apologize!" I snap, then see what I’m doing and laugh a little. "Look, this isn’t easy, OK? I’m a Draka –"

"I noticed."

"—and it’s hard for us to back down! Harder than it is for you by a long shot! Cut me some fucking slack!"

Pat teeters between getting mad and laughing, and falls down on the laughing side. After a second he gets serious again. "OK, I guess. Thanks."

"De nadovski, Pat," I say, and go over and sit beside him. "Look, you surprised me this afternoon, all right? I mean, it got so serious all of a sudden. There I am, having a good time, better because you’re there, and all of a sudden you hit me with the L-word."

"Sorry I said it."

I take his hands in mine. "Look, I’m not. Even with all this shit we’re blundering around with now… I’m sorry I hurt your feelings and… look, I’ve got feelings too, you know? I can hurt too. I am hurting right now; we both are."

"You are?" he says.

"Well, duh, Pat. Of course I am. I can’t figure out your feelings sometimes – a lot of the time these days I don’t know what I’m feeling – but when you’re hurting, it hurts me. Quite a lot, actually."

"It does?" He swallows. "Uh… after everything… I’m sorta surprised."

I get up and start to stride back and forth; my pheromones are under control, but only just. "Pat, this love stuff… what the hell does it mean, really?"

"I know what it means."

"Oh, yeah? Define it in words of… right. You love your Mom, right?"

"Well… of course. I’m sort of mad with her now, though."

"Yeah, I guessed that. Look, I love your Mom. About as much as I do my mother, or Alice. In fact, I’m closer to your Mom than mine, a lot of the time – say 80%, when it’s not just drakensis stuff. Shit, my Mom’s from a different world and she’s 470 years old, and you don’t think this gives us problems, the two of us?

Pat gives an unwilling snort of laughter. "Now that you mention it, yeah, I can see how that’d complicate things. You’ve mentioned it."

"Right, it’s like she’s an alien sometimes; she says something, I realize she’s been around so god-damned long, and my hair tries to stand up." I sigh. "OK, you and I both love your Mom. But that’s different, right?"

"OK," he says, eyes narrowing a little. Pat’s smart, I think. When he uses it… damn, but I’ve been known to run on hormones for a while lately, no higher functions involved at all, as Mom says. All the calm thoughtfulness of a rutting ghouloon, is what she said, actually. "Yeah, granted for the sake of argument as Professor Clarke tells us."

"You love Vicki? I mean seriously now, Pat, do you?"

"Hey –" He pauses. "Well…" Another pause, a long one. "Yeah, actually, I think I do. Sort of like… well, not like a sister, really."

He grins, and I answer. Back on the Prime Line they don’t mind siblings getting it on; I’m not grotted out by the idea the way Pat is, and he’s not as grotted as his Mom, but it does seem a bit gronky-stucco – guess I’ve sort of caught something local as well as vice versa.

"Sort of like really close, with sex too," he finishes. "Vicki’s comfy, you know what I mean. But not –"

"But not the way you feel about me," I say. I kick a settee over and sit down in front of him, grab his eyes with mine. "Well, I like her a lot too – and man, she rings my chimes too. But I don’t feel the same way about her as I do about you, and I certainly don’t feel the same way about either of you as I do about Erin or Alice or Mom."

"What’s all this leading up to?" He’s not as tense, now. Neither am I. I take another deep breath and go on:

"OK, so what I’m feeling for you isn’t exactly what you’re feeling for me, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Think about that for a second, goddam it!"

He does, brows knotting, and I get a flash of warm feeling in my chest for him. Dammit, it’s so hard to do this! I keep feeling challenged, and it’s taking all my self-control to push it down. He’s not really challenging me; I have to convince my glands of that.

"Yeah," he says softly after a while. "Yeah, Alexa, I think… you’ve got a point, there."

"OK, so let’s define it? I like you better than anyone I know – with Vicki a close second – and I’ve got this major lust for you and I’m happier with you there, and everything’s more fun when we do it together, and if you’re not happy, I’m not happy… If that’s not love, it’s as close as I can get."

We hold each other for a second. "You’re fucking persuasive, you know that?" he says after a while.

"I should hope," I say. "I mean it, Pat – I want you around forever."

He stiffens, ever so slightly. "I don’t… I’m not… I won’t live as long as you, Alexa."

"No shit – seven years and I’m challenge-worthy, and Pat, it scares the shit out of me. I’m not sure if I can hack it – most of us die before we hit 100, Pat, we get killed; how can I tell if I’m gonna be one of the lucky ones? I don’t know if I can protect you and Vicki, and that scares me worse than dying… Mom can’t help me then…"

I hesitate, drop my voice to a whisper. That doesn’t mean anything – recording sensors can hear better than me – but I can’t help it. "Pat, I’m gonna tell you something. If it gets out, I am in a world of shit, and so are you… want to hear it?"

He straightens; we’re sitting facing each other, with hands on each other’s shoulders. "Secret?"

"Oh, man, you don’t know how secret. If Mom finds out I told, she’ll tan me from head to heels, nail my hide to the barn door, and ground me for eternity. It could screw things up for her bad."

Slowly, solemnly, he nods. "Shoot the beam, Alexa. Word of honor – nobody’ll hear it from me."

"OK. Mom’s been fighting with Alexis, you know that? That’s why she’s so bitchy today."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, the reason is she wants to lift the rejuve limitation on non-Draka." He whistles, silently. "Not for everyone, but for people like you and Erin and Alice and and Unk Tom and Aunt Jenny. And for some others, as a reward. And she’s winning but it’s damn difficult. She had to call in a lot of favors, and this bitchoid-from-hades Vashon, she really made her pay for it, through the teeth – there’s old bad blood there, and Mom had to, like, beg. Mom felt really done-down about that, and Pat, you can’t believe how rotten being done-down feels to us Draka. Really, truly, bonzer-bad, a lot worse than for you and it isn’t fun at all for you, I know that."

"I know," he says. Then after a moment. "Hey, it must feel rotski for you guys if it feels worse than it does for us."

"Tell me about it," I quote back at him, smiling. Pat’s so thoughtful, even when he’s upset. It’s one of the things I really like about him. Then I go on:

"So if this goes through, and it probably will, you can live as long as me, Pat. She promised me you’d be on the list."

"Hey," he he says. It’s sort of theoretical for him, I think; me too, and I’ve always known I’d never get old. But it’s still a biggie. "Hey, that sort of changes the perspective, you know? I’m gonna have to think about it."

"Yupper," I say. "That’s how much I feel for you, Pat – I want you with me a thousand thousand years. That OK?"

He gives that crooked smile I like. "Yeah… if only you weren’t such an asshole sometimes."

I laugh. "That’s muhmis asshole to you, Pat." I get more serious. "Pat, I can’t help what I am – wanting to be boss, that sort of thing. I need that, I can’t help it, it’s the way I’m designed. But I need you too, Pat. I need you to feel good about me. I’m not Mom, I’m not older than God, I can’t… wall off the way I feel like she can. Don’t go away from me in here, OK?" I touch him on the forehead.

"OK," he says. "Let’s make up."

"Make out?" I grin.

"That too. Hit me with them pheromones, Alexa."

"Hey, you hardly need ‘em," I say, and grab him.

**