Aloy left the base, heading out the eastern exit, unable to stand the clamour in the common room anymore. If it had just been Oseram, Tenakth and Carja voices and personalities overlapping, she wouldn’t have minded. She could have gone to her room and had much of the noise softened by the closed doors.
It wasn’t the people she had the issue with.
It was the person.
Aloy ground her teeth at Tomas’ latest presentation from his printer matrix.
Toothpaste and toothbrushes.
Everyone was giddy over the useless tubes of ointment that smelt of mint and the brushes with the tiny bristles that cleaned even the most revolting gunge from an Oseram’s mouth.
And everyone was praising Tomas for it.
“I’m sure when Nemesis arrives, it’ll be completely intimidated by our dazzling smiles and minty breath.” She snapped, storming into the fresh air, deep shadows forming as the sun went down behind her. “Ugh!”
“Aloy,” she turned and saw Zo kneeling by the grave stones that covered the body of Varl, “something wrong?”
Aloy clenched her fingers and let out a huff. Zo brushed off the grains of dirt from her hands. She had been pulling weeds out from around the yellow blooms she’d planted when Varl died. They were the kind his sister, Vala, had loved as a girl and Zo, with her usual tenderness, had found the seeds and planted them in memory of her and of Varl.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
As she gazed at the flowers, Aloy realised there was so much more going on than her own frustrations.
“I never asked how Sona handled hearing about Varl,” she said, deflecting the question, “or what she thought of your being pregnant?”
Zo smiled sadly. “Sona reacted as I feared she would, angry and hurt, grieving for her son…and for his association with me.”
Aloy walked to where she knelt and sat down in a slump. “Zo, I am so sorry…”
“But later, under cover of darkness, when a mother’s heart trembles with hope, she gave me this.” She held out the Nora doll on the back of a wooden Strider. “A toy of Varl’s…to give to the baby.”
Aloy swallowed, unable to see the hope for the fear. “Sona…Teersa…all the matriarchs…all the fools that follow without question…”
“Aloy…”
“Who marks those who give up everything to fight for them as deathseekers? What kind of narrow minded, unkind…paranoid…”
“Aloy,” Zo put her hand on her shoulder, “do not be offended on my behalf. I am at peace.”
Aloy stared at her, barely able to comprehend Zo’s statement. “How?” She asked brokenly. “How can you be at peace after losing Varl…after being shunned by his family? After losing your landgods and practically being ostracised by your people?”
Zo smiled and took Aloy’s hand, pressing it against her swelling abdomen. Aloy paused and went to speak but Zo put her finger to her lips. Aloy waited, confused…then…felt something move beneath her fingers. She gasped, her body charged with a thrill that ran down her spine like a lightning strike. Zo nodded at her then stood up and left Aloy sitting on the outlook, reeling from what she’d felt.
“It’s real,” she whispered, “it’s really real.” She turned to the gravestones. “Varl…your baby…it’s real! And I swear I’m going to make sure it has a future. I swear it!”