tamcranver (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tamcranver) wrote2004-02-05 02:02 pm
tamcranver) wrote2004-02-05 02:02 pm
Entry tags:
Farewell
For the ff_friday "departures" challenge: Two big departures in River's life, one from her POV and one from Simon's.
Simon, against his better judgment, was worried about his sister. He never would have admitted it; she’d have laughed if he had. Still, she’d never been away from home, except for a week of dance camp every summer, and she was still only fourteen. It felt unbelievably strange to be sending his baby sister off into the world alone.
She worries about Simon. The lab technician who spirited her away last night said that Simon had sent him. Just Simon—her parents have faded away. They don’t have the eyes to see. They don’t know the language that exists between siblings. They’re too old to believe. Only Simon understands. But Simon doesn’t know about the men with blue hands or the cutting or the cold voices that echo from the walls or just what River has become…
River was really growing up, Simon thought with a twinge of regret as he watched her back her clothes. It wouldn’t take long; six regular uniforms, one dress uniform, all stiffly pressed and folded and the clothes were packed.
“There is a definite advantage to this dress code,” River said, examining her suitcase. “My packing time has been reduced by a factor of at least 12.5.”
“That was probably their intention,” Simon said, trying to sound lighthearted. “They do run a school full of teenage girls, you know. They don’t want to waste time waiting for you to pick out your outfits.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Simon.” River gave him a scornful glance, making him feel both insulted and warm at the familiarity of it. “They do it for strictly monetary purposes. A typical girl’s outfit, even from a department store, doesn’t usually exceed 50 credits. These ugly things cost 75 apiece.” She sighed. “Ah, well. At least I can take as many book discs as I like.”
She can’t take anything, they’ve told her. There will only be room for her. They tell her to be quiet, not to ask their names or their plans. She doesn’t need to. They’ll freeze her, stick her in an icy coffin. She will be Snow White, waiting for Simon to wake her.
Simon put his hands on her shoulders and smiled, blinking away the tears burning at his eyes. He was slightly gratified to see River’s eyes shining as well; sometimes he felt as if River didn’t need him nearly as much as he needed her. “Write,” he said, somewhere between laughing and warning.
“Every day,” she said, smiling up at him. “I’m sure I’ll have so much to tell you.”
“I bet you will.” What else could he say? ‘Be good’ sounded too parental, ‘have fun’ sounded stupid. “If there are any problems—the class work’s boring, the kids are mean--”
She laughed. “Simon! I’ll be fine.” She put her hands over his, removing them and pulling her brother into a hug. “I’ll miss you,” she muttered into his vest.
“Yeah.” He mentally chided himself—what kind of response was ‘yeah?’ “I’ll miss you too,” he added, still feeling rather foolish.
“Right.” She pulled out of the embrace and sniffed, straightening up. “I’ve got to go. Dad’s going to yell for me in a minute.”
Simon didn’t even bother asking how she knew that, and simply waved as she dashed off towards the port door. “Goodbye,” he said, feeling rather forlorn.
“This is it,” the man with the beard says. “Get undressed and get in the chamber.” She does, wondering at the younger man’s blush. Surely he has seen a naked female body before. She likes it in the box. It’s soft and cool. It doesn’t hurt. “We’re just going to put you to sleep,” she hears the bearded man say. It no longer matters. Awake or asleep, she is escaping. She is going to see Simon.
“Goodnight,” they say, and she hears the hiss of gases rushing into the box. They are warm on her face, like a thousand mouths breathing on her sensitive skin. The younger one looks nervously at his Approaching Vehicle Screen—-not set for optimal performance, she notices, but she doesn’t say anything. “Alliance patroller headed this way.”
“Right,” says the bearded one. “Let’s lift off.”
The last thing Simon saw as the transport lifted off was River’s face, her nose making a misty smudge on the back window. He waved and walked away to study, smiling. She’d be all right.
They close the lid. She falls asleep dreaming of Simon’s face.
Simon, against his better judgment, was worried about his sister. He never would have admitted it; she’d have laughed if he had. Still, she’d never been away from home, except for a week of dance camp every summer, and she was still only fourteen. It felt unbelievably strange to be sending his baby sister off into the world alone.
She worries about Simon. The lab technician who spirited her away last night said that Simon had sent him. Just Simon—her parents have faded away. They don’t have the eyes to see. They don’t know the language that exists between siblings. They’re too old to believe. Only Simon understands. But Simon doesn’t know about the men with blue hands or the cutting or the cold voices that echo from the walls or just what River has become…
River was really growing up, Simon thought with a twinge of regret as he watched her back her clothes. It wouldn’t take long; six regular uniforms, one dress uniform, all stiffly pressed and folded and the clothes were packed.
“There is a definite advantage to this dress code,” River said, examining her suitcase. “My packing time has been reduced by a factor of at least 12.5.”
“That was probably their intention,” Simon said, trying to sound lighthearted. “They do run a school full of teenage girls, you know. They don’t want to waste time waiting for you to pick out your outfits.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Simon.” River gave him a scornful glance, making him feel both insulted and warm at the familiarity of it. “They do it for strictly monetary purposes. A typical girl’s outfit, even from a department store, doesn’t usually exceed 50 credits. These ugly things cost 75 apiece.” She sighed. “Ah, well. At least I can take as many book discs as I like.”
She can’t take anything, they’ve told her. There will only be room for her. They tell her to be quiet, not to ask their names or their plans. She doesn’t need to. They’ll freeze her, stick her in an icy coffin. She will be Snow White, waiting for Simon to wake her.
Simon put his hands on her shoulders and smiled, blinking away the tears burning at his eyes. He was slightly gratified to see River’s eyes shining as well; sometimes he felt as if River didn’t need him nearly as much as he needed her. “Write,” he said, somewhere between laughing and warning.
“Every day,” she said, smiling up at him. “I’m sure I’ll have so much to tell you.”
“I bet you will.” What else could he say? ‘Be good’ sounded too parental, ‘have fun’ sounded stupid. “If there are any problems—the class work’s boring, the kids are mean--”
She laughed. “Simon! I’ll be fine.” She put her hands over his, removing them and pulling her brother into a hug. “I’ll miss you,” she muttered into his vest.
“Yeah.” He mentally chided himself—what kind of response was ‘yeah?’ “I’ll miss you too,” he added, still feeling rather foolish.
“Right.” She pulled out of the embrace and sniffed, straightening up. “I’ve got to go. Dad’s going to yell for me in a minute.”
Simon didn’t even bother asking how she knew that, and simply waved as she dashed off towards the port door. “Goodbye,” he said, feeling rather forlorn.
“This is it,” the man with the beard says. “Get undressed and get in the chamber.” She does, wondering at the younger man’s blush. Surely he has seen a naked female body before. She likes it in the box. It’s soft and cool. It doesn’t hurt. “We’re just going to put you to sleep,” she hears the bearded man say. It no longer matters. Awake or asleep, she is escaping. She is going to see Simon.
“Goodnight,” they say, and she hears the hiss of gases rushing into the box. They are warm on her face, like a thousand mouths breathing on her sensitive skin. The younger one looks nervously at his Approaching Vehicle Screen—-not set for optimal performance, she notices, but she doesn’t say anything. “Alliance patroller headed this way.”
“Right,” says the bearded one. “Let’s lift off.”
The last thing Simon saw as the transport lifted off was River’s face, her nose making a misty smudge on the back window. He waved and walked away to study, smiling. She’d be all right.
They close the lid. She falls asleep dreaming of Simon’s face.