The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [240]
But Nira had a purpose in coming here. She had brought treelings to plant, to help the world heal from all the harm that had been done. Osira’h, Rod’h, Gale’nh, Tamo’l, and Muree’n had accompanied their mother on the pilgrimage, supporting her with their love. Together they would make a change.
“It’ll be fine,” Rlinda said, seeing her uncertain expression. “I promise.”
“I’m the only one who can make it right. Coming here, facing the past, seeing these people . . . I need to do that before I can move on.”
The Blind Faith flew beside the Curiosity, also carrying a load of supplies for the Dobro colonists. Rlinda said, “BeBob and I won’t be staying long, so you and the kids better finish your business quick, unless you want us to sail off into the stars and leave you all behind.”
“No, we won’t be staying behind.” Nira looked into the back section of the ship, where the children were occupying themselves with some Hansa entertainment vidloops Rlinda had loaded aboard. “We’ve all spent quite enough time here already.”
Once landed, the Curiosity and the Blind Faith opened their cargo hatches like vendors displaying their wares, and excited colonists came to help them unload the new material. Rlinda supervised the workers, watching the stacks of supply crates diminish until the cargo hold was empty.
Holding a treeling, Nira hesitated at the bottom of the ramp until Osira’h took her hand and said, “Come, Mother. Do you need us to show you the way?” The girl carried another of the small potted worldtree fronds, as did each of the other children. Six new worldtrees for Dobro.
“I know it too well.” Cradling the treeling in one arm, she smiled, and together the six of them stepped out onto the ground.
Nira walked with them away from the landing field and passed through the reconstructed colony town in a small procession. While the half-breed children expressed surprise at all the changes they saw, unshed tears welled up in Nira’s eyes. The fences were gone, the breeding barracks burned down, the Dobro Designate’s dwelling torn apart. She barely recognized the place. So many of its shadows and stains were mercifully washed away.
The once-segregated Ildiran settlement and human prison camp had now merged, the structures intermingled. Nira recognized most of the colonists, and she could see a genuinely changed attitude on their faces. The Ildirans really were helping them. She knew there were many scars to remove, both on the landscape and in the peoples’ hearts, but they seemed to be doing it.
Perhaps this would work after all. Dobro could be beautiful.
The children seemed happy and excited, bounding along toward the nearest hills, drawn to a particular place. After the springtime rains, the weeds and grass had grown in lush, thick masses.
She was not surprised to find that her own grave was still there. Muree’n found it first and called the others over to the spot.
Looking at it now, Nira felt disoriented to see the polished geometrical stone that marked where Designate Udru’h had supposedly buried her. The holographic image of her face — much younger and more innocent — still shimmered there. Her children seemed captivated by the projection.
“You look beautiful there,” Rod’h said.
Nira knelt in the rough grass and stared for a long moment, recalling all her years in the breeding camp. She knew that Jora’h, too, had come to grieve by this marker, believing the false story of her death.
It was time to remove the lie. Nira detached the data crystal and its power pack and took the holographic memorial with her. Although the gesture was symbolic, she felt lighter somehow.
The people on Dobro would be all right, and so would she.
“Why did you do that, Mother?” Osira’h asked.
Nira set her pot down on the ground. “Because we are here to make a new memorial, a much more important one.” She began to scoop out a hole in the dirt so that she could plant her treeling. The children helped, and soon the small worldtree had been patted down in its new home. Nira stepped back to admire what they