Mirror Space - Marianne de Pierres [19]
Mira waited. The next time it happened, she climbed from her bed and beat her fists against the translucent barrier. ‘Stop it!’ she cried. ‘Leave it alone!’
The Siphonophores left without even appearing to have noticed her.
She stayed awake, leaning against the wall, thinking of Insignia. Please find me. Please.
She felt the faintest tug in response to her plea. So faint that it could have been imagined. And yet she hoped, believed, it was Insignia. What else was there for her to keep faith in? Rast Randall? Josef Rasterovich? A selfish mercenary and a vagrant wanderer; neither of them would care about her abduction.
And Thales Berniere? Would the young scholar miss her?
Now, finally, that most things had been laid bare in her life, she could admit to herself that Thales’s affection for Bethany Ionil had wounded her. Was she so unappealing that he would find an older woman more attractive than her?
She sighed and returned to her bed, rolling to her side to ease the baby’s weight on her backbone. How could she expect any regard from such a gracious young gentleman when she was but a pregnant refugee? Thales Berniere would be shocked if he knew what had happened to her, and repulsed.
‘Mira-fedor should ingest some food.’
‘Wanton-poda?’ Mira’s eyes flew upward.
The little cephalopod hovered above her bed looking grey and lethargic.
‘It is not right that they treat you like this. I am eating and have put on weight.’ She caressed the small mound of her belly. ‘You told me the baby is thriving again. There is no need for them to be hurting you.’
‘My circumstances are not your concern, Mira-fedor.’ Then it added, ‘But it is kindly of you to care for poda.’
‘Is there somewhere you and I could both go?’ she whispered. ‘Could we leave here together? Go to a place where you won’t be hurt and I will be able to have my baby without interference?’
‘Mira-fedor shall not speak of these things.’
‘Look at you,’ declared Mira passionately. ‘You are sick. I don’t know much about your physiology but it appears to me that your host - poda - may die. But then I suppose you don’t care much for your host.’
‘Your statement lacks veracity, Mira-fedor. Poda is dear to Wanton.’
‘Then save poda before it is too late.’
The creature began to spin in its thinking rhythm.
‘You must know somewhere you can go, away from these...bullies.’ Mira slid her feet to the floor, and stood so that Wanton-poda’s ear flaps were at her eye level. ‘I know oppression, Wanton-poda. That’s where I came from. That is why I am carrying the child of a man I loathe. Oppression is wrong, whether it be amongst humanesques, aliens or Post-Species. You have a right not to be afraid.’ The words tumbled so fluently from her mouth it was as if she had stored and practised them, and now was the most important time for their delivery. Oppression had killed Faja and Estelle. ‘I have a right not to be afraid.’
Its spinning slowed down, and it moved closer so that it almost settled on Mira’s shoulder. Instinctively, she reached up and brushed her fingers along its fluted edge.
It uttered a peculiar noise. ‘Poda finds that soothing,’ it said.
‘I don’t understand why they are so cruel to you.’
‘Wanton-poda has had many important tasks. Before the task of Mira-fedor, Wanton-poda was charged with adapting a water species to land. Most rewarding. However, Highness Most Capable: Evolution is not satisfied.’
Something stirred in Mira’s consciousness. She thought carefully about how she would elicit her next response, lapsing back into more indirect speech so as to learn what she sought. ‘That must have been a complex task. I can’t fathom why anyone would go to that trouble.’
‘Adaptation of species receives priority amongst Host scientists. Although I do not know the specific use of this adaptation, Wanton-poda was told it would carry much prestige.’
‘Not enough to stop you being hurt by the Siphonophore hosts.’
‘Wanton-poda’s title of Highness Most Capable