The Loneliness of Distant Beings

Chapter Thirteen

'Sure, yeah, it was only a matter of time I guess.' This is all I can think of as a response when I am sitting in the galley and Dad delivers The News, which is, of course, that we have been reassigned and we have to move out of our quarters. He's an SA (single adult) now and so am I, and Pan and Cain are getting moved into their own quarters for when the baby comes.

'You know, you could consider . . . ' he starts, but since I know what he's about to say I am shaking my head already by the time he looks at me.

'Seren, don't throw the baby out with the bathwater.' This is my grandfather now, his hat under his arm as a concession to the fact that he's dealing with his family rather than his subordinates.

'What does that even mean?' I ask him, which earns me one of his Looks.

'What I'm saying is that in your situation, the prudent thing would be to expedite the Union situation and get married sooner rather than later. It was good enough for your mother, indeed for many of the women on this ship. Seren, you don't want to live in berths for too long at your age.'

'Because?'

He tugs at his cuffs, walks the length of the tiny galley, then back, caged I guess, looking for escape. 'Because . . . well, there's a certain culture . . . Let's just say the single life isn't great for morale. Here on the Ventura we favour family life, as you know.' He puts one hand on the back of my father's chair, one on the table. 'Lot of happy memories here, Jamie – I know it will be hard.'

Dad nods, pinches the bridge of his nose in such a way that for a moment I get a little scared he might cry, but he doesn't, because actually all he's doing is figuring out how to give me the next part of The News. I guess I realise this because I hear myself asking, 'And what about you, Dad? Where will you go?'

They share a look then, the two of them, both knowing something I'm about to know and obviously not like.

'Well,' he says, studying his hands. 'You know that a while ago we were talking about me applying to be reallocated?'

'You did it?'

He nods. 'I applied with Olivia Wren, and we got approved.'

'Olivia Wren?' She's this woman who works in Cultural who has these two little kids and a husband dead from PEST, who I guess I had noticed Dad was spending time with. Maybe I was just too busy with my own stuff to put it all together before now. 'OK, so you and her are like a thing now?'

'Yes.' He smiles. 'We're a thing, and I'm moving into her quarters.'

'So – one question – how is that fair? How come you get options and I don't?'

'Because . . . ' He laughs, pinches his nose again. 'Because I've played my part in the breeding programme, Seren, and Olivia has played her part too, and we're both . . . widowed, and so . . . '

'So marrying Mum, having us – it was all just you "playing your part"?'

'Seren, don't talk nonsense.' This is Grandpa, putting his hat on and getting ready to leave.

Dad looks pained and says, 'Baby, please—'

'Don't you "baby" me.' I leave him in the galley and go to my room, locking the door behind me, maybe for the last time. He sounds the buzzer almost right away. I push the intercom, say, 'Go away, Dad,' and cut it off. He buzzes again. I ignore it. He buzzes again. I try to ignore it and lie on my bed but he does it so many times that in the end I give up and press the com.

'What?'

'Let me in, Seren. I want to finish this conversation.'

'No, I'm done talking.'