‘Yes.’
He sighed. ‘Things seem pretty definite now, so I’d better tell you. My mother always wanted a full marriage, but my father insisted on the standard twenty-five year term marriage for people who plan to have children.’
My head did some frantic calculating. Fian’s sister was several years older than he was, which must mean …
‘Their marriage will end later this year,’ said Fian. ‘My mother expected them to renew the contract for another term, but just before the medal ceremony my father put the house up for sale. That was his subtle way of breaking the news to her that he’d got the two children he wanted from the relationship and he wasn’t interested in continuing it.’
Fian pulled a pained face. ‘My mother was very upset. She tried to get my father to reconsider, but he wouldn’t. He seems to expect them to keep being a couple until the very last day of the contract, and then just split up as if there were never any feelings involved. Perhaps there weren’t in his case, he’s always been pretty cold-blooded, but my mother …’
Fian let the sentence trail off, clearly needing a few moments to recover. I took his hand and looked down at the Twoing ring on his finger. I knew now why Fian worried about long-term commitment, and why it meant so much to him that I’d chosen rings for us with no end-date markings. He’d seen what his mother had gone through, and he didn’t want a relationship with someone who’d already decided to walk away at some point in the future. If I’d ever looked closely at his parents’ wedding rings, I might have worked it out months ago, because I was sure his father had insisted those rings had end-dates deeply engraved on them.
Fian finally started speaking again in a brisker voice. ‘Well, that’s why conversations with them have been very tense lately. My mother will want me to stay with you whatever happens. My father will just have to learn to accept the situation. I’m Military and I’m Twoing with you. When it gets to midnight, we’ll renew our Twoing contract.’
He paused and gave me a sudden teasing look. ‘Unless you want us to call Colonel Torrek and arrange to get married instead. We can use Military regulations now.’
I gave a startled giggle. ‘No, you were right about that. I was in a blind panic because Joth was dead, you’d nearly died, and I thought the alien sphere might nuke us to pieces during the next solar storm. I was trying to grab on to things before it was too late. The alien sphere isn’t shooting at us, so there’s no need to rush things now. Besides, I’ve realized that getting married right now could be very dangerous.’
‘Dangerous?’
‘Imagine Maeth’s reaction if we got married before her and Ross.’
Fian laughed. ‘If we aren’t getting married, then I want a full year Twoing contract. If things go badly, it’ll take longer than three months for the newzies to get bored of ridiculing us, and you’ve a bad habit of deciding to leave me for my own good.’
‘You’re quite sure about this?’
He grinned. ‘Perfectly sure. We can argue about it all night if you insist, but I intend to be extremely stubborn.’
I didn’t bother arguing. I’d lost my chance of a family for the second time, but I’d still have Fian.
We spent the next few hours listening to a recording of Rono and the Replays playing a concert, so I could test the music’s shocking effect on an innocent Deltan boy, and at midnight we called Registry.
We signed up for our first Twoing contract during a solar super storm, and I’d thought that nothing could possibly be that zan. We signed up for our second Twoing contract in the middle of the African rainforest, with rock and roll music playing and an alien sphere hovering in orbit directly above us. It was even better.
35
The next day, things were unnaturally silent at Zulu Dig Site. The inevitable morning rain had delayed us starting work, but now we’d finally reached our target point. The alien sphere was in geostationary orbit far above us, and precisely below it a framework held a laser drill in place. A blinding light pulsated as it cut down into the earth a carefully calculated distance, and a fine plume of dust hung around it. The drill would soon be removed, and a sensor probe lowered in its place.
The probe would find nothing. I already knew that from the initial sensor sled readings, so would everyone else here. They’d all either sneaked a look with their sensors or asked their friends. Back at Zulu base, the Military would know it too, because they were receiving continuous telemetry from our sensors here.
It wasn’t just that we couldn’t detect any alien artefact. It was possible one would be like a stasis box, invisible to sensors, but there were no gaps in the packed earth, rocks and tree roots. Deeper down, it was clear the rock hadn’t ever been dug or disturbed. No one had actually said the words, and the vast audience watching via the Earth Rolling News probably hadn’t realized it yet, but soon they would. We’d been hunting shadows. We were drilling down and doing a last, hopeless, deep sensor check to make absolutely certain, but it would find nothing because there was nothing to find.