II
The
feel of the heavy envelope in my shaking hands brought me back from my memories
to realize that I was sitting in the very chair from which Malakai had made his
proposition.
I looked at it again and realized that
the address had been scanned and printed, not handwritten. It would not have
surprised me if he actually had handwritten the letter and had it sent all the
way from Terra. Logistics aside, I could readily imagine his flaunting
nonconformity by ignoring the ease of technology: an anachronism that was
special and even cute for Genevieve and me was a way of life for my uncle.
I smiled knowing that, whatever its
contents, that damned envelope was a grandstanding compromise far more
effective than the sterile formality of a response across the Cog-Net.
The smile was short-lived and I began
to feel an anxious nausea at wondering what was inside: “Yes” or “No”, opening
the envelope would unleash a storm upon my life. If I was accepted to the TRP
then I had the upset—as well as excitement—of leaving my family and only home I
had known. All safety was gone. Or else I would still be locked into that same
lackadaisical, dreary and safe life of my family’s Tchakh Clann here at
Duilledair, Andowhan Orga.
My hands were shaking so bad they
almost tore the entire letter in half as I tried to open the envelope. Every
muscle in my body felt charged with nervous energy as I extracted the contents.
It was an expensive, first run sheet of paper. Malakai was indeed making a bold
statement in choosing a non-recycled sheet.
I
couldn’t swallow my own spit as I began to read the scan of his precise
penmanship. The words were all Shondrean.
Caleb,
The notifications and orders will not
be sent for some time yet, so I wanted to be the first to let you know how you
are standing. I think you should hear this from me since I brought it up in the
first place.
How do you like your old uncle’s
presentation? Not a bad bit of
anachronism, eh?
Anyway, I digress, and there are far
more important things to discuss with you.
I must let you know that I can’t agree
more with your own analysis of your grades: they are definitively atrocious! In
the Projects we sincerely feel that academic achievements are a reliable reflection
of the individual and his or her ability to focus, commit and grow.
It was no small wonder that Malakai
went to such dramatic lengths to contact me. I almost put the letter down and
cried. So much expectation came to a grinding halt right there, that I wasn’t
sure I could handle what I had already half expected. Taking three deep, slow
breaths, I decided to at least read on and accept what my hesitations and lack
of focus deserved.
While
your grades are an honest detriment to your candidacy for some of the more
choice positions opening up, none of us worth a damn among the Projects
consider grades as the only criteria. I seem to remember telling you, a long
time ago, not to be so dismissive and quick to give up hope. You shouldn’t have
relied purely on your experiences of trying to get your silly ass posted to the
T4-108D Project. At your age, you need to make your decisions upon what’s best
for you and not some pretty face.
Like I also seem to remember saying,
Sylphalia is a showboat. Elsewhere, we do real work that doesn’t require
Doctorates!
As the furthest Project from
Confederation space, the attrition on Terra has been extreme. Too many of these
newer kids don’t seem to want to be out in “the wilds”, away from Confed society.
Myself, and many others, feel you might find it to your liking out here in these
“wilds”.
The trouble you may find with this is
that the TRP is still governed under the Colonial Armed Forces and will be as
far foreword as anyone can foresee. Everyone here, including yours truly, is
listed under active service. I know how your folks will feel about that. How to
deal with that will be your problem.
I took care of my end and I didn’t even
need to call in any favors. Colonel Ruyichi, of the Terran Rangers, has taken
an interest in you. I think you will find it interesting—you get to be a
biologist, game warden and soldier all in one!
It will be good to finally have some
family close by. Your foot is in the door and I trust you will uphold the
family name I’ve established here.
Don’t dawdle with theatrics. Post your
response on the Cog-Net. You need your posting ASAP. And don’t waste time
agonizing over your final decision. You have had plenty of it.
There were no “goodbyes” or “love to
your parents”. There was only the quick scrawl of his signature.
I sat stunned, having never quite
believed this could happen. He was right, I didn’t have to agonize over a
decision. Every part of me knew that I wanted this chance without question. I
loved Andowhan but I was so sick of being the dutiful son in the umpteenth
generation of my family to live on the founding planet of human Colonial
refugees. I was too wrapped in the swaddling of my family. I was under such a
blanket of well-intentioned protection that I was almost amazed to have been
able to undertake my Dahshcavil when I came of age. It all bred too much apathy
and self-pity within me.
The other colonies felt as if they
would be more of the same to me. I already knew what my chances were being
posted to any of the other available, more sought after Projects.
Genevieve crossed my thoughts then. I
could feel more heartache as I would be even further from her. Then, the idea
suddenly crossed my mind that I might actually use this as an opportunity to
earn more respect from her and make a name for myself within the Projects. Perhaps
I could prove myself on Terra and transfer back to Sylphalia. Malakai claimed
he was getting my foot in the door.
I caught myself clenching my fists and
digging my fingernails into my palms. My thoughts had inevitably strayed to the
few men I’d known Gen to date. They had all fit into the same mold: all were
brazen and cocky risk-takers, while I had never reached for anything unless I
was positive it would be safe to do so. I could’ve kissed her that first night
we’d met; I should’ve hung onto her tighter as she gave me the “goodnight” peck
at the Senior Ball; I wished I could go back and, not listening to my old
roommate Bobby McMurdough, punch Eric Frieslin—right in front Gen—as he danced
her away from me. I wouldn’t accept that she was at the Halla Shanakh purely as
my friend; I wouldn’t allow a mere novitiate to weasel in on a raised Shanakh
and his date!
Taking only a few seconds, before I
could think on it further, I linked into the household intranet through the
kitchen’s CMI and called up my personal address book. I found the link for the
Terran Reclamation Project and linked out into the Universal Interlaced
Cognitive Network. I found the posting for my Personal Access Locator and
accessed it. The next step was easy, merely requiring me to “Accept” or
“Decline”. I accepted and closed out my link.
It was done.
I looked out the kitchen windows to
where my father and uncle were digging at something the tiller uncovered in the
family field. I swallowed hard, feeling uncertain about what came next. Knowing
that it was time to get away didn’t help against actually having to face my
parents and do it. Thoughts of their anticipated reactions terrified me. They allowed
that cowardly hesitation to whisper in the back of my thoughts. The agitation was
growing.
Feeling that I might jump out of my
skin, I locked the kitchen windows, quickly grabbed my shoes from the bench in
the foyer off the kitchen entrance, and laced them with fumbling fingers. I stuffed
Malakai’s letter into the inside pocket of my coat and stepped outside. Glancing
over towards Pap and Collin again, I saw that they didn’t even notice me. That
was good. I felt I should go and talk to my father immediately but I couldn’t
draw upon any resolve.
“Kloyreh,” I called myself. I was a coward.
I needed to get some air and focus my
thoughts. At the very least I could stretch my legs and get some lunch. I
walked down the cobbled drive behind the house and onto the main road into
town.
Stretching
out into my long, distance-eating stride I could feel a little of my confidence
in the decision return once I was away from the house. Despite dreading having
to face my parents, I still knew I had done the right thing. I had felt like
too much of myself had lain sleeping. I wanted to finally wake up.
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