Cloverleaf Station: Chapter Twenty-Five, Part Two

 Notes: DAMN IT, PLOT! I was about to finish this story and then you swept in and--ARG!

Title: Cloverleaf Station: Chapter Twenty-Five, Part Two

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Chapter Twenty-Five, Part Two

 

Kieron moved with purpose through the crowds outside Nephra’s spacedock. Now that he knew what was happening here, he could see evidence of it all over the place—the frenetic way people were haggling with each other over deals that should have been settled way before a face-to-face meeting, the way some folks strutted about with Traktan colors on full display while others looked haunted, wearing neutral shades and none of the insignias of Traktan culture. Citizens versus non? A new layer of separation for a people who had spent so many decades unified?

It was sad, but it wasn’t Kieron’s concern. He was here to put things right for Xilinn and her family and then to move on to his own. Seeing Elanus for the first time in days made the longing Kieron felt for him so much worse, and Catie and Lizzie’s bickering made his heart ache. He wanted them all to be together. More than anything, he wanted that.

He checked his implant, making sure nothing new had come in from Xilinn—not since he was still several days out. She’d requested he meet her at their family home, where a descendancy unit had been temporarily installed to confirm DNA once he arrived. It seemed convoluted to him, but he’d do whatever she wanted. It was time to lay Zak to rest, and put his family’s minds at ease.

He rented a skimmer and let it fly him out of the city center, to the northwestern part of the city, right on the outskirts of the lush, misty forest that covered the northern part of the continent. It was a wild place, only visited by research biologists and pharmaceutical manufacturers, and Kieron had to admit he wasn’t surprised to see the number of ships buzzing over it right now. This forest was one of Trakta’s most precious natural resources. If they were going to be cut off from the Federation, it was vital that they start looking for other ways to take care of themselves.

The skimmer set down outside Xilinn’s house, and after a moment’s consideration, Kieron told it to wait. It would cost more to keep it here, but he wanted to be able to leave quickly if needed. He walked up to Xilinn’s front door and knocked. A few moments later, it opened to show—

Not…Xilinn. It was Laina, one of Zak’s other wives. “Mr. Carr.” She smiled, but it didn’t get as far as her eyes. She looked stiff, like she might shatter if she shut the door too hard. “Thank you for coming.”

“Where’s Xilinn?” Not his most diplomatic moment, but Kieron didn’t give a damn about that. He’d never been particularly close to Zak’s other spouses, and he wasn’t about to be stopped from seeing Xilinn by this one.

“She’s unavailable. She asked me to take the item from you today.”

Kieron saw red. He bit the inside of his lip almost hard enough to draw blood, then gritted out, “What’s inside this box isn’t a fucking item. These are the last remains of your husband, Zakari Zemay, and he deserves to be treated with a little more respect from one of his spouses than being referred to as an ‘item.’”

Somehow Laina managed to stiffen even further. “I think I know better than you the consequences of what you hold. If it is him, which isn’t sure yet as far as I’m concerned, then of course he will be interred with the rest of the family in the crypt. Regardless, your part in this is now over.” She held out her hand expectantly.

Behind her, Kieron caught a glimpse of movement. It was Pol, hunkering behind the stairs, looking somewhere between sad and frantic. He made a motion with his hands, waving Kieron—in? Was he supposed to try and get in?

He looked back at Laina. “Let me apologize,” he said, and her hand wavered as her eyebrows rose. “I don’t have any right to make demands, and I realize this is a difficult thing for you and your family to have to deal with. I’m sorry. It’s been a very long trip, though, and I’m exhausted. I’d really appreciate a cup of tea before I go, and if possible…confirmation that this really is Zak.”

Her posture softened a bit. “I suppose that’s…expected of our hospitality. Come inside.” She moved back and he stepped through the door, disinfecting light touching everything from his shoes to his hair as he came inside.

“No contaminants,” an AI voice intoned. Laina relaxed further.

“Come.” She turned and led the way to the kitchen. Pol was nowhere to be seen now.

The house was large, as all family houses on Trakta were—Zakari, having three spouses, had been in one of the smaller polyfamilial units that Kieron had known about. It was common for families to grow as large as ten spouses, with twenty or more children. They had stopped at four, though. Four spouses, four children…and Xilinn had limited herself to having Pol and Szusza with Zak, whereas Laina had one with each of her husbands.

Speaking of husbands, where was Kriev? Shouldn’t he be here for this is Xilinn couldn’t be? It was a rather important moment, after all.

“Please sit,” Laina said, pointing to a stiff wooden chair before instructing the kitchen to begin making tea for them. Red tea, specifically—Kieron’s least favorite. Which Laina knew, as he’d lived in this house with them for three years.

Kieron was more glad than ever that he’d turned down Zak’s offer to marry in, so long ago.

All through it, Lizzie’s green light shone steadily in the corner of his eye, watching it all quietly. When Laina finally brought the tea and sat down with him, Kieron was prepared. “Thank you,” he said with a small smile. “It’s very gracious of you. I promise not to take up much of your time.”

“I appreciate that.” Laina’s eyes danced over to the climate-controlled box that held Zak’s arm and hand. “That’s really all you found?”

He nodded. “And we were lucky to get that much.”

“We? You took on a new research partner?”

“No, the station got a new boss.” And Kieron didn’t want Laina to know anything about him. He rolled his eyes. “The ‘hands-on’ type, although I think one off-season at Cloverleaf was enough for him.”

“I daresay.” She relaxed a bit more, sipping slowly at her dark red tea. Kieron joined her, holding back his wince as the acidic wash of it coated his tongue and teeth. He lacked the sensory receptors to really appreciate this particular plant like a native Traktan could. “I’m sorry Xilinn couldn’t be here,” she added. “She’s going to be detained in the capital for…some time. It was a very last-minute thing.”

“I’m sure she’d be here if she could.”

“Of course. He was our husband, after all.” Her eyes went back to the box. “Speaking of…if you don’t mind, I should get this into the descendancy unit to ensure its authenticity. The process shouldn’t take more than a minute or two.”

“I understand.” A minute or two. She was going to chuck Zak’s remains into a DNA tester to make sure they were real, no ceremony of homecoming or convocation of the family—it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t right. Xilinn and Kriev and all the children ought to be present for this.

What the hell was going on here?

Laina set down her cup, picked up the box, and left. A few second later, Pol’s head appeared around the kitchen door. “Uncle Kieron!” he whispered. “C’mere!”

The boy looked frantic. Kieron glanced in the direction Laina had left, then chucked his awful tea down the sink and headed for the hall. Pol took his hand and tugged him down the hall and into a small room—Pol’s own room, from the familiar look of the background here. He shut the door and said, “Please, you have to help!”

“Help how?” Kieron asked the little boy, whose teary eyes looked far too big for his face right now. “What’s going on?”

“Mama’s been taken!”