inclination of young men to resist being treated like babies. Little Gracie – much bigger now – was a much easier encounter. She screamed happily and ran to her big brother with unreserved glee. He laughed, picked her up and spun her around. Delarua exhaled her worry. They were fine. It really was fine. A few hours would be no problem at all.
By noon she was facing an irate Maria in the living room. Gracie was on the other side of a closed bedroom door (with her ear stuck to the door, if Delarua was any judge), and Rafi was downstairs in the foyer, sitting and nursing a bruised forehead in sullen silence.
‘Maria, stop pacing, stop flinging your hands about and please tell me what happened!’
Maria immediately flung her right hand towards Gracie’s closed bedroom door in a dramatic fashion. ‘He was tickling her! Making her laugh!’
Delarua shook her head slowly, dazed at the mundane revelation. ‘What? Oh. You mean . . .’
‘Yes! He wasn’t using his fingers! ’
Delarua opened her mouth and found herself stuck. She closed her mouth, rubbed her face with both hands, gripped her hair tightly in both fists, then tried again. ‘You know, I’ve seen him do that before. It’s harmless.’ It was harmless. It was a simple trick, a little mental brush against the nerve endings under the skin. And yet . . . not really simple, to be honest. Done wrong it felt like the itching of a thousand angry ants, but Rafi clearly had his skill under sufficient control.
Maria pressed her hands to her face in a perfect picture of horror. Tears filled her eyes. ‘Grace, you did not say that. How could you . . . you know everything that’s happened. How can you call any of this harmless ?’
‘But Maria, was it really so bad that you had to hit him? With a spatula?’
Maria let the tears spill then, and Delarua felt guilty for two fleeting seconds before her following words erased all sympathy. ‘You’re as bad as he is, married to that . . . to . . .’
‘If you want to say “alien”,’ Delarua said wearily, ‘go ahead. Even though he’s been here for nearly four years now.’
‘You let him into your mind! How do I even know I’m talking to my sister?’
‘Pause. Stop. Halt. You did not just accuse my husband of bodysnatching me.’
She shook her head vigorously. ‘I can’t deal with this. If you can, you take him. I don’t need this in my life. We don’t need this.’
‘Maria, ease off the drama. Please. Rafi and I are going to have a nice little break for a week or two and then we’ll come back and see how you and Gracie are doing.’
Delarua collected Rafi’s belongings without further excitement and went down to the foyer. It hurt to meet her nephew’s eyes and see the betrayal and self-loathing there, but meet them she did. She unashamedly poured warmth and light towards him until he managed a tiny smile and stood up.
‘Home?’ he queried. The word was heartbreaking.
‘Home,’ she replied, ‘but I have one more appointment this afternoon at the Sadiri Consulate. I hope you can stay out of trouble until then. Do you want to stay in the city until I’m ready, or should I pack you into a car pre-programmed for Sadira-on-Cygnus?’
He shrugged again, but this time it was less obnoxious. ‘I can wait and travel with you. I promise I’ll be good. I have some research to do.’
She laughed at him. ‘Research, young man? Impressive! I’ll set up a libraries and museums list for your comm.’
‘And ministries,’ he said quickly. ‘Big project,’ he added in reply to her look of curiosity.
‘Fine, ministries, too. In fact, let me put you in touch with Gilda, my old workmate. She’s expert at city tours.’
His expression turned apprehensive. ‘Is that the woman Gran told me to stay away from?’
Delarua chuckled. Gilda could be a bit much. ‘I’ll tell her to keep it child-friendly.’
They took an autocab towards the bureaucratic quarter and parted ways at the main entrance
By noon she was facing an irate Maria in the living room. Gracie was on the other side of a closed bedroom door (with her ear stuck to the door, if Delarua was any judge), and Rafi was downstairs in the foyer, sitting and nursing a bruised forehead in sullen silence.
‘Maria, stop pacing, stop flinging your hands about and please tell me what happened!’
Maria immediately flung her right hand towards Gracie’s closed bedroom door in a dramatic fashion. ‘He was tickling her! Making her laugh!’
Delarua shook her head slowly, dazed at the mundane revelation. ‘What? Oh. You mean . . .’
‘Yes! He wasn’t using his fingers! ’
Delarua opened her mouth and found herself stuck. She closed her mouth, rubbed her face with both hands, gripped her hair tightly in both fists, then tried again. ‘You know, I’ve seen him do that before. It’s harmless.’ It was harmless. It was a simple trick, a little mental brush against the nerve endings under the skin. And yet . . . not really simple, to be honest. Done wrong it felt like the itching of a thousand angry ants, but Rafi clearly had his skill under sufficient control.
Maria pressed her hands to her face in a perfect picture of horror. Tears filled her eyes. ‘Grace, you did not say that. How could you . . . you know everything that’s happened. How can you call any of this harmless ?’
‘But Maria, was it really so bad that you had to hit him? With a spatula?’
Maria let the tears spill then, and Delarua felt guilty for two fleeting seconds before her following words erased all sympathy. ‘You’re as bad as he is, married to that . . . to . . .’
‘If you want to say “alien”,’ Delarua said wearily, ‘go ahead. Even though he’s been here for nearly four years now.’
‘You let him into your mind! How do I even know I’m talking to my sister?’
‘Pause. Stop. Halt. You did not just accuse my husband of bodysnatching me.’
She shook her head vigorously. ‘I can’t deal with this. If you can, you take him. I don’t need this in my life. We don’t need this.’
‘Maria, ease off the drama. Please. Rafi and I are going to have a nice little break for a week or two and then we’ll come back and see how you and Gracie are doing.’
Delarua collected Rafi’s belongings without further excitement and went down to the foyer. It hurt to meet her nephew’s eyes and see the betrayal and self-loathing there, but meet them she did. She unashamedly poured warmth and light towards him until he managed a tiny smile and stood up.
‘Home?’ he queried. The word was heartbreaking.
‘Home,’ she replied, ‘but I have one more appointment this afternoon at the Sadiri Consulate. I hope you can stay out of trouble until then. Do you want to stay in the city until I’m ready, or should I pack you into a car pre-programmed for Sadira-on-Cygnus?’
He shrugged again, but this time it was less obnoxious. ‘I can wait and travel with you. I promise I’ll be good. I have some research to do.’
She laughed at him. ‘Research, young man? Impressive! I’ll set up a libraries and museums list for your comm.’
‘And ministries,’ he said quickly. ‘Big project,’ he added in reply to her look of curiosity.
‘Fine, ministries, too. In fact, let me put you in touch with Gilda, my old workmate. She’s expert at city tours.’
His expression turned apprehensive. ‘Is that the woman Gran told me to stay away from?’
Delarua chuckled. Gilda could be a bit much. ‘I’ll tell her to keep it child-friendly.’
They took an autocab towards the bureaucratic quarter and parted ways at the main entrance
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