CHAPTER ONE
"It's definitely a miracle," said Rozia.
"I really hadn't dared to hope for this much."
Kaleem had to agree. Petri was sitting in the shade. Full
sunshine might be a bit much for her, yet, even with the magic of the medicine
on Zandra. She was weaving a daisy chain. Seven months ago, when they'd first
come to Zandra, she could hardly stand the gentle light of a low-level electric
bulb.
"She's doing well," said Kaleem. "It's nice
to see her looking happy." He remembered the first time he met her. The
poor child had been in constant pain. Now she seemed like almost any other
child.
Rozia touched his arm. "I really am grateful. You know
that, don't you? To you. And the Zandrians."
Kaleem shrugged. "There have to be some perks about
being the Peace Child." He cringed inwardly at his own words. He never
liked to admit to this role. He wasn't really doing much at the moment in any
case. He felt a bit guilty that he had such a generous allowance from both
Zandra and Terrestra and that even Zenoto invited him back frequently. He
wasn't actually doing any work for anyone at the moment. Sure, he had to keep
his languages and his knowledge of other cultures up but this was so much of
his nature now that he would do this even if he wasn't paid.
"This has been lovely," said Rozia. "But we
shouldn't push our luck." She turned to her stepdaughter. "Come on little
missy. Time to go."
Petri grimaced. "Oh. Do we have to?"
It looked as if there was going to be an argument. It was
good to see Petri behaving like any other kid.
"Yes, we do," said Rozia. She shook her head and
glanced up at Kaleem. "I don't want to take any risks. This is the longest
she's been out in daylight."
"I'm sure she'll be fine."
Rozia bit her lip and frowned.
Kaleem touched her arm. "They are good, you know, the
medics here."
"I know. I can't help worrying, though." Rozia
started gathering up her things. "Come on then, Petri."
"Oh." The little girl began to pout . "I like
it out here with Kaleem."
"Kaleem has to go as well. He's got work to do."
He didn't want
to go. He just wanted to stay here forever and stare at her. The woman who
would be the love of his life forever, no matter what happened. Even if she
eventually found herself another man. She was some sort of angel or saint. He
remembered how good she'd been with the Adulkis. She'd been so patient with
these difficult, both physically strong and strong-willed adults who'd behaved
like children and they'd loved her. She'd forgiven him for the really horrid
way he'd treated her and she'd understood that he'd only left her because he
thought he was a danger to her. Now she was taking so much care of a child that
wasn't her own. On top of all that she
was as beautiful as ever. The accident hadn't left any permanent scars –not any
that showed, in any case. It was a surprise – and a relief – to him that she
was on her own.
"Come on then," said Rozia, grabbing Petri's hand.
"I'll walk with you to the transporter station."
Rozia nodded. "That will be nice."
Petri took Kaleem's hand. "Now you two are joined
together, through me."
If only.
Rozia blushed deep red and looked away. "Don't be
silly, Petri."
As they walked Kaleem couldn't swallow. He couldn't
think what to say to Rozia either. Whatever he said would be a lie; there was
only one thing on his mind – how much he still loved her. He ought to get that
out of the way first but suppose she totally rejected him? If he didn't
confront her with this he could remain hopeful in his ignorance. Rozia just
seemed embarrassed. He hated as well that he'd made her feel awkward. Perhaps
he should keep his distance from her, pretend to be busy, put the whole problem
on hold.
Petri had seemed oblivious to it all and had skipped along
the pleasant pathway that was surrounded by artificial trees and bathed in late
spring-light. She was singing to herself despite the brightness. Bringing her
to Zandra had been the right thing to do. That was something at least. She
would never have made this much progress on Terrestra.
A transporter came very quickly and Rozia and Petri
clambered aboard. Something sank in him as they waved goodbye. Petri was
enthusiastic. Rozia just looked sad. Was that a good sign? Was she sad that
they were parting again? Or was it because she regretted seeing him today?
Oh, it was all too difficult.
He decided not to wait for a transporter himself. He'd do
what he often did when he felt stressed. He began to jog, though he couldn't
help chanting to himself as he ran "She loves me, she loves me
not." Well, whatever. Of one fact
he was sure: he loved her and always would.
It would have been three stops on the transporter, so a fair
distance in fact. Yet it would only take him about twenty minutes to jog there.
He began to pound along the pavements. They were crowded today and even the
newly introduced channelling was not keeping people apart. At one point he
almost bumped into a Zandrian droid.
"Oy, watch it snazzy boy," commented the machine.
Odd. That went against the normal robot code, didn't it?
Though perhaps calling a Terrestran a "snazzy boy" was harmless
enough. The machine was actually not hurting human life. But why would it
bother? There must be some wrong programming there.
It didn't improve his temper. Nor did the jog have the
normal mood-enhancing effect. It just made him feel tired, drained and aware
that he wasn't quite as fit as he used to be.
He carried on pushing himself, even though his legs were
beginning to ache and he was getting so out of breath that his lungs hurt. At least when he finally got home he could be
pleased that he'd kept going. So he arrived at his apartment block out of
breath, sweating and with hardly the strength to command the door to open.
He leant against the wall whilst he tried to recover. A few
seconds later his breathing and heart rate slowed to something more normal. He
still felt a bit weak. He decided to leave it a little while longer before
attempting to get into the building.
One of the campaign holoposters caught his eye. His iris
activated it. He watched with a mixture of disbelief and nausea as a
fair-skinned, blond-haired Zandrian, who was so perfectly Zandrian that he was
sure she was really a droid, described how Zandrians should stop offering so
much medical help to people from other One World Community planets.
"We must put other Zandrians first," she said.
"Whilst we feel duty-bound to offer help to the needy from elsewhere, are
we actually helping them if all they do is drain our resources? Wouldn't it be
better if we educated them to look after themselves more efficiently? Zandra's
resources are not infinite."
"Stop," said Kaleem quietly. He should get the
holoposter reported.
Now the strength returned to his limbs and his heart rate
quickened again. He ran up to the apartment block door.
The monitor recognised his iris before he'd even said his
name. The door opened immediately. He felt a level of fitness returning. The
poster had fired him up.
He remembered living in the old cave system on Terrestra. He
could still see the Z Zone there as well. That place where people lived outside
of the system because of their sincere beliefs. Everything was improving now
and that was down to people working together. How dare anyone try to stop
that?
He decided to walk up the twenty flights. Half way up he
started running again.
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