Three - Michael Jan Friedman [81]
Idun nodded from the other side of the room. “I am glad to hear that.”
They were sitting in Gerda’s anteroom, and had been for the last several minutes. However, they had yet to bring up the subject they both needed to speak about.
“I understand you piloted the shuttle that went down to the installation,” Gerda ventured.
“I did,” Idun confirmed. “But there wasn’t any fighting. Vigo had already freed the engineers, secured the installation, and rounded up the intruders by the time we arrived.”
“No battle, then,” Gerda concluded.
[246] “None,” said her twin.
They looked at each other.
“I apologized to Refsland,” Gerda offered. “I told him I was wrong to have manhandled him—no matter what he might have been thinking about me.”
“What did he say?”
“He accepted my apology.”
“That was generous of him.”
“I thought so as well.”
Gerda had apologized to Greyhorse as well—for doubting his love and his loyalty. But she was careful not to mention that.
Again, they regarded each other. Finally, it was Idun who broke the ice—as she had to, under the circumstances.
“I was surprised,” she said, “when I heard about Gerda Idun.”
Gerda nodded. “Everyone was.”
Idun shook her head.”
“Not you, surely. You knew about her from the beginning.”
Gerda shrugged. “I had my suspicions. But I didn’t know anything for certain.”
Idun frowned. “I should have been suspicious too. Instead, I trusted her. I was so fascinated with the novelty of there being three of us ...”
“It’s understandable.”
“No,” said Idun. “It’s not. Our father on Qo’noS taught us to be wiser than that.”
“Our father also taught us to be generous,” Gerda told her sister, “and to open our hearts. And I wasn’t prepared to do that. But you were.”
[247] Her sister looked pained. “What went on between us ... it was stupid.”
“Childish,” Gerda added.
“I regret it.”
“So do I,” said the navigator.
Idun’s expression turned thoughtful. “She wasn’t all that different from us, I think.”
“No,” said Gerda, “she wasn’t. Though she may have opposed us, she was a warrior.”
Idun grunted. “A warrior.”
And she would need to be, Gerda mused. If what Gerda Idun had told Nikolas was true, she and her people would continue to have a fight on their hands. For Gerda Idun’s sake, Gerda hoped they would win.
“Come,” said Idun. “It’s time for our shift.”
Together, they left Gerda’s quarters and headed for the turbolift down the hall. As they made their way along the corridor, the navigator was pleased that her hands and face weren’t the only things that had begun to heal.
Something even more important to her had begun to heal as well.
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(AUGUST, 2003)—Scanned, proofed, and formatted by Bibliophile.
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In Memoriam.. 4