Lost in Transcription Page 6

  “You look like shit,” I said. Dibin looked as rotten as I felt.

  “Not much sleep. I’ve been making calls and interrogating officials ever since I came back.”

  “It’s the least you could do.”

  Dibin gave Ledikjin a queasy look. “I’m so sorry for what happened. But I think I might have a shot at untangling this mess, if you can be patient. It’ll take at least a week though.”

  I added my glare to Ledikjin’s. “A week is a lifetime for a kid.”

  “Yeah but I can’t make things happen faster than they do. Sit down, let me explain.”

  Ledikjin helped me into a chair. If I could just walk properly, run, I’d have had a better chance of saving Shajn. But I couldn’t force my body to heal, nor to speed the growth of spinal cord. It would be two months before the replacement was implanted and beginning to work. Until then I relied on machines to do the smallest personal task.

  Dibin shuffled papers as a displacement. Bad news then. “So, I found out that someone in the Legal division here put in a complaint about you, Pax, being unfit to foster because of your ‘E’ grade retirement from the military.”

  “But I passed all the checks,” I said. “How could—”

  Dibin raised a hand. “Wait. Yes, I know, it’s phony as all hell, and I’ve managed to get that complaint removed and initiate an investigation. The whole division is already in the guano because of that brothel. The police were far too willing to ignore what was going on there.”

  “Corruption? Not surprised,” Ledikjin said.

  “So why can’t I have Shajn back?”

  “Because of your current physical condition, Pax. Child Services raised an objection based on your disability. Which is also shit, but I need to fight it through the court. I need your permission to access your medical records and hire a lawyer for you. The Federation will pay for it all. Shajn is that important.”

  “Anything, anything,” I said, waving a hand. “Tell me what to do.”

  “For now, let me talk to your doctors. You just get on with healing. What’s the latest news?”

  I explained that it would be three months before I could switch to a less bulky exowalker. “But disabled people parent all the time.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not Shajn’s biological kin, or an adoptive parent. That’s the other line of attack. You can apply to adopt. Only thing is...aren’t you planning to go back to space?”

  “Not if it means losing a child to the system that put them in a brothel in the first place.”

  Dibin tapped a finger on the desk. “Think about it carefully, Pax. At the very least, they might insist Shajn stays planet-bound for at least two years.”

  “My friends are rearing a child in space. Byrd is fine. Thriving, in fact.”

  “And we can raise all that, I promise. I’m just arguing as if I was opposing the adoption, which someone is likely to. You put some noses out of joint.”

  “Good,” Ledikjin said.

  “Not if it means Shajn is in care for the rest of childhood,” I said.

  Ledikjin slapped the desk, making Dibin jump. “Shajn would have been in a brothel for life if you had not saved those children. Shajn and several others, Pax.”

  “Ledikjin’s right. It is what it is, and now we work with that. It’s not hopeless, I promise you.”

  “Can I see Shajn? As a visitor?”

  “No, Pax. They definitely won’t allow that until adoption or something similar is set up. But I can keep you informed.”

  I clenched my fist. “Why did they have to be so cruel?”

  “Believe it or not, it was for Shajn’s protection. Some fosterers can be violent. And, um, you’re scary, my friend.”

  “They haven’t seen me in action. Then they’d be really scared.”

  Ledikjin laughed, but Dibin wagged a finger. “That? Is not going to help. You need to come across as safe, sane, responsible, and harmless.”

  “I don’t look harmless.”

  “Well, try. I’ll arrange a lawyer and they’ll want to talk to you and make affidavits and the like. You all need to lead lives as blameless as you know how until this is all over.”

  “We already do,” Ledikjin said. “Not that the miners treat us any better for that.”

  “That’s another issue, and I’m aware of the prejudice. But just...you know...do what you do and do it more obviously.”

  “My friends aren’t at fault,” I growled.

  “You want Shajn back? Then stop arguing with me, Pax. I’m on your frecking side.” Dibin rubbed a hand through hair that looked as if a rodent had slept in it. “I need to get moving on this for you, and then snatch some sleep. Pax, please sign off on this waiver for me so I can talk to your doctors.”

  I placed my palm on the screen to authorise the document. “I will do anything to get Shajn home.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of. No more heroics. This is about bureaucracy. I’m good at that.”

  “And we are not,” Ledikjin said. “Come, Pax. You also need rest.”

  “I can’t sleep for worry.”

  Dibin gave me a look of sympathy. “It’s going to be a long fight. You all need to stay strong and well.”

  But who’d ensure Shajn’s health and strength? I didn’t trust Child Services after this. Dibin had already shown the limits of Federation control when it was needed most.

  Ledikjin went in to talk to Saro when we arrived at the farm. I wanted to be on my own. Talking about this situation was unbearable right now.

  But little Ketan didn’t know that. The kiddo came and found me where I was hiding on a bench out under one of the shade trees. “You look sad, Pax.”

  “I am a bit. How about you?”

  “I miss Shajn.”

  “Me too. Why don’t you sit down?”

  The kid snuggled next to me. “Maybe we can use your spaceship and go rescue Shajn from the bad people?”

  “Um...I don’t think so. But we haven’t given up.”

  Ketan looked up at me with hopeful eyes. “Can I help?”

  “Yeah, you can. By being the same great kid you always are.”

  “How does that help?”

  “It...just does.” I gave the kiddo a hug. “It helps to know you miss Shajn too.”

  “Everyone does. Everyone cried today at school.”

  Damn it, I nearly broke down there and then. “Well, I’m not surprised. But now you all have to do your best at school so when Shajn comes back, you’re all caught up.”

  “I will!”

  “Good kid. Now, maybe your parents might need a hug too. Think you can give them one for me?”

  “Sure I can.”

  “Off you go then.”

  I wiped my eyes as Ketan ran off. At least I wasn’t alone. But that meant more people counting on Dibin fixing this situation.

  The lawyer Dibin had found came to the farm the next morning. I’d expected to be summoned to the city, or at least it all to be conducted remotely, but no, only personal interviews would do. Documents for electronic signature arrived that afternoon, and a hearing on my suitability as a foster carer was scheduled in four days’ time. Dibin had lit a fire under some backsides, for sure.

  The magister’s hearing was in an ordinary office in the same building as Dibin’s hideout. I dressed in new clothes and did my absolute damndest to look competent, fit, and parental before the magister. Ledikjin, Saro and two other farmers spoke up for me, praising my abilities as a parent and as a worker. Dibin gave personal observations as a trained psychologist.

  The magister listened to us all and appeared sympathetic, but in the end, said, “I’m sorry, Pilot Bancilhon. In six months’ time, you would make a wonderful foster carer. But right now, you have a long medical treatment arranged, and caring for a child will interfere with that.”

  “But, Your Honour, my friends—”

  “Can apply in their own rights if they wish. I’d encourage that. Application denied, with permission to appeal
granted.”

  Dibin signalled for me to settle down and stay calm as we left the office. The lawyer muttered condolences and slipped away to another hearing.

  “Shajn can’t stay in that care home for six months,” I said, gripping Dibin’s arm.

  “I know.”

  “I can apply,” Ledikjin said. “We each could, or together.”

  “Yes, and you should do. But we’re not done yet.”

  Dibin was surprisingly—suspiciously—unmoved by this set back.

  “What are you up to?”

  Dibin smiled. I frowned at the inappropriate reaction, but it had no effect on the grin. “This and that. Ledikjin, Saro, if you want to apply to be fosterers, the process of clearance will have to begin again. It will take another month—”

  “A month!”

  Dibin was no longer smiling. “Pax, keep it down. Just go home, everyone. Don’t forget, the adoption request is still under consideration. This decision has no bearing on that at all.”

  “But my medical situation is the same.”

  “Yes, but it’s a different process. Different judge too. Please, trust me?”

  I wanted to punch the cheap fake wood panelling. “What choice do I have? This is all my damn fault.”

  “No, Pax—”

  I cut Saro off. “It is. If I hadn’t applied to foster Shajn, then I wouldn’t have put the kiddo through this. Put any of you through it. You don’t deserve to be caught up in this.”

  “That child and you have been nothing but blessings on us,” Ledikjin said, glaring.

  “Yes.” Saro stood in front of me. “Now come home. And friend Dibin? You’d better make good on these promises of yours.”

  “I will.”

  “I trust that creature as far as I can throw it,” Ledikjin muttered as we walked to the vehicle park. “Federation overseers are a waste of taxes.”

  “What choice do we have?” Saro asked. “We have no power. The miners don’t care about us and the Kanimil won’t interfere.”

  “Ketan wants me to use my ship to rescue Shajn.”

  “Oh, that damn ship. Ketan thinks it’s made of magic.”

  Which raised the only smile among the three of us in a week. “I don’t see how it will hurt to let Dibin try. Unless you have a better idea than me trying to contact the Aslam?”

  So we went back to the farm, and waited. Dibin messaged me twice, expressing concern and telling me that progress was still happening. A hearing for a possible adoption could not be arranged as quickly as the fostering adjudication, and might not be heard before my spinal cord surgery. But we prepared documents and supporting evidence, and things were moving as fast as the system allowed, which wasn’t much.

  I stuck to my exercise routine, determined that the upcoming surgery would not fail for any want of my fitness, and did my chores as carefully as always. Shajn’s room wasn’t touched, and would not be until all hope of the puggle’s return was lost. No one mentioned this possibility, but despite everyone trying to get life back to normal, a pall still lay over the household. If Shajn had died, it might have been easier, because then we could have talked about it. Even the kids stayed away from the subject out of respect for my feelings. I wanted to talk about it, but I didn’t want to upset the family. Silence became a prison for my heart.

  With three weeks to go before my surgery and with no progress beyond scheduling the first adoption hearing, my mood became unbearable. I’d always been a stable, reliable individual, able to push on through the worst life had thrown at me. But now I wondered if I was actually fit to look after a small child with troubles of their own. I dared not speak of this to Saro and Ledikjin, but I thought I ought to raise it with Dibin. Shajn’s long-term happiness was all that mattered.

  So on my next medical run to the city, I called to arrange a visit with Dibin, who was oddly enthusiastic. Something was up.

  “Sit down, Pax, I was just about to come out to see you.”

  “Something’s happened?”

  “Yes, but not a bad something. Sit, please. Do you want some water? You look like shit.”

  “I feel like shit. I think maybe we should delay the hearing.”

  “What? Why? Why now?”

  “Because I’m handling this situation so badly. How will I cope with Shajn?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a wonderful parent. The only difficulty is your...you know, the injuries.”

  “But—”

  “No, wait until you hear my news. I had your DNA analysed—”

  My face tightened into attack mode out of pure shock. “Excuse me? When...why the freck did you do that?”

  “Because I had some suspicions about you, and I was right. Pax, you’re a chromatomorph.”

  If Dibin had turned into a lizard before my eyes, I’d have been less surprised. “You’re nuts. In case you hadn’t noticed, my skin doesn’t change colour. It’s blue, blue, and oh look, blue again, no matter what I’m feeling.”

  “Yes, yes, because you’ve been genetically altered. You have fully functioning chromatophores—colour changing cells—but they’ve been masked by melanocytes, which are dark, giving an illusion of a uniform blue-black colour. Your pronounced brows and cheekbones,” Dibin gestured at my face, “have the same origin as the crests and ridges adult chromatomorphs have. Yours have been suppressed, that’s all.”

  “Why?”

  “Maybe to hide what the scientists were up to, or maybe the chromatophores were a military disadvantage. We simply have no idea. All the children in that experiment derived from a single stock of genetic material—chromatomorph material. The unused portion of that material went missing eight years ago, just before the prosecution of the scientists.”

  Dibin watched me work it out. “Shajn? Somehow this is about Shajn?”

  “Yes, we think so. Someone got hold of that material, used it to make children, and sold or disposed of them afterwards. We don’t know how many. Maybe just the one. Maybe a chromatomorph was too dangerous to raise openly. We don’t know, and we still don’t know where Shajn was born. But it’s entirely possible you and the child are kin. Maybe even siblings.”

  I blinked a few times, and had to suck in a few calming breaths. “We’re family?”

  Dibin nodded. “Related, almost certainly.”

  “But where did the material come from?”

  “We really can’t tell, and after more than thirty years, the trail is ice cold. We could probably find your relationships to the existing chromatomorph population, but not to a parent. Probably not even to direct siblings, other than your fellow experimentees. Are you all right?”

  “I’m...damn it, Dibin. You drop this on me and expect me to accept it without.... Shajn is family?”

  “Yes. Blood kin. And guess what is the strongest claim you could make for a swift adoption process?”

  I was so overwhelmed that my body leaked emotions. Tears fell from my wide open eyes, down my now painfully prominent cheekbones. “Not a joke?” I whispered.

  Dibin got up from behind the desk, came over to my side, and took my hand. I scrubbed at my face with my free one. “I would never do that to you. You’re my friend. Shajn is precious and so are you.”

  “Uh...how soon?”

  “A week at most. Since Ledikjin and Saro have so forcefully supported your claim, and only proof that you were morally unfit or mentally disturbed—which you aren’t—would disrupt a familial adoption, this will work.”

  “Promise me?”

  Dibin clasped my hand harder. “With my heart and being, I swear it.”

  I hung onto that hand like a drowning person. Shajn. My puggle.

  My family.

  ~~~~~

  We had our celebrations before Shajn arrived, because Saro was adamant that normal and quiet was the best for the child. That didn’t stop Ketan running up and hugging a much missed friend as soon as Shajn stepped out of the rover. The adults grinned like people on particularly excellent drugs, watching Keta
n drag Shajn up to the house.

  The puggle turned on the stairs to look at me. “Pax?”

  “I’m coming in a minute. We’re all here.” Shajn hesitated. “You’re safe, kiddo.”

  Ketan tugged the puggle’s hand. “Come on. It’s okay.”

  I waved at the two of them and gave Shajn my brightest smile, which was weakly returned before the kids darted into the house.

  “You better go in too, Pax. Shajn will want you close for a while.”

  “I want to be close.” I embraced Saro, and then Ledikjin. “I owe everything to you.”

  “And to friend Dibin. Where is our overseer?”

  “Stuff to do, reports to make. Wanted to let us have our homecoming in peace.”

  “That’s kind. But Dibin belongs to this as well.”

  “I said that. But now, I have a puggle to stand and watch until my eyes fall out.”

  Saro grinned. “I was like that when Lilikin was born. Go, enjoy the moment.”

  My kid—my kid—was sitting on the floor with Ketan, playing with wooden animals, but leapt up as soon as I appeared, dropping a lap full of treasures with a clatter. “Pax! Don’t hide any more.” The puggle gripped my leg with astonishing strength.

  “I won’t, baby. But go and play. I’ll just watch.”

  And love every second of it too.

  For the moment, there was no way that Shajn was going back to school. Child Services had pulled the kiddo out of the classroom, and so far as Shajn was concerned, the only safe place was within ten metres of my physical body. Preferably within three. That was fine—I could teach at the house, and once my surgery was over, sitting in the classroom until the puggle felt confident again would be the least I could do.

  The problem was the surgery itself. It meant a week in hospital and a month of daily visits to a physical therapist.

  Shajn’s reaction to the news that I would be away for a week was immediate and hysterical. The puggle clung to me, insisting I couldn’t go.

  “But you’ll be safe here, kiddo,” I tried to explain to my sobbing child. “With Ketan and Saro and everyone else.”

  “No! You take me with you!”

  “But it’s in the city, puggle. You don’t like the city.”

  “Then you stay here.” Shajn’s grip on my waist tightened. “Please, Pax.”