The next morning, Sabrina ran into Tirqwin in the small dining area aboard Khediva. She was halfway through her morning cup of tea and smiled a welcome at him as he pondered the provender menu.
"How is it going?" she asked. Khediva had not allowed her aboard the station yet, claiming the thinner atmosphere would strain her recovering body unacceptably.
"As well as we expected," he replied. "We've identified several more memory segments that are too corrupted or fragmentary to be uploaded, and deleted them. We're trying to trace the effects of that now on the remaining memories."
Sabrina nodded; she'd already sat through the lecture on how memories were like a huge, multilayered web. It made sense when she thought about it; when she remembered her old home, for instance, there were many underlying memories contained in that, memories of specific objects and their histories. Without those underlying memories, the memory of her home wouldn't make as much sense.
"The truth is," Tirqwin sighed, "we could work at this for years and not be finished. At some point we have to decide we've reached an acceptable threshold. Long-term stasis can have damaging effects on his body. We must balance those two concerns."
"We will," she said. "Tirqwin, I'm concerned about the other problem we have."
"What other problem?" he asked, puzzled.
"Ford's ship. What are you doing to see that he gets to keep it?"
"I?" Tirqwin asked, taken aback. "Nothing. Sabrina, try to understand the importance of this to Homeworld. He built that ship without my permission or knowledge, or I would have stopped him. To allow him to keep it is tantamount to licensing their Wayship technology to him, to Praxatillus. Even you cannot expect that from them."
"There's a difference between Ford and Praxatillus. From what I've gathered, Mara's taken steps to ensure that no one gets too close a look at Ford's ship, and has forbidden the use of anything resembling Wayship technology in Praxatillian construction."
"That is not enough for Homeworld."
"Tirqwin, you can't turn your back on Ford like this."
"Sabrina, that is not what this is about."
"I think it is. It's the heritage he got from you, Tirqwin, that led him to do this. It's in his blood, the way it is in yours. But he was denied the chance to fulfill that destiny, whereas you weren't. This is all he's been able to grasp of it. Don't let them take it from him."
"I have no choice, Sabrina."
"Of course you do. You haven't tried yet, Tirqwin. See if you can't get Lady Chavadanafra on your side."
He grimaced. "I would have to be very sure of my reasons before I did that."
Sabrina blew out her breath in frustration. "Tirqwin, I haven't known Ford that long, but already I can see that he has to be able to travel, to escape. It's part of who he is, how he copes."
"He can do that in a normal spacecraft."
"That's not really the point. He built that ship, Tirqwin. From scratch. It's...it's his in a way that no other vessel ever could be. It's his...his claim to his heritage, the one Homeworld denies him." Sabrina broke off, frustrated that she couldn't explain it better. "Have you asked him why he built it?"
"I do not recall."
"Then you haven't, or he didn't think you wanted to know and brushed you off with some stock answer," Sabrina said. "Make him tell you, Tirqwin. If that doesn't convince you he deserves to keep his ship, then I'll quit bugging you. Otherwise, I'm not going to give up on this. I'll call Lady Chavadanafra myself if I have to."
"Sabrina, do not dare!"
"Tirqwin, I'm serious about this. Ford's done a lot for me and I don't want to see him treated like this. I'm not going to stand by and let it happen without a fight. I owe him better than that." And so do you, she didn't add aloud. But she knew that Tirqwin heard it anyway.
——————————
Later that day, messages from Praxatillus arrived from the nearest relay station. Sabrina had one from Marie, assuring her that Tristan was getting along fine and wanting to know when she was coming home; one from Aurora, sending along encouragement and good wishes; and one from Mara.
"My dear friend," Mara began, "I'm so sorry to hear you've been ill. Tirqwin and Niavar both assure me they are looking after you much better now. I certainly hope so, or they will have to answer to me! It pains me not to be able to come to you and see for myself how you are. I hope it won't be long before you can come home, with Scotty."
Sabrina sat back and sighed. She wanted to be home too, with Scotty. But sometimes it seemed this process of sifting his memories would take forever. And there were still all those memories that none of them could put in order or offer any help with, all his time at college and in the military. The anxiety was wearing at her, impeding her recovery. She was trying her best to take care of herself, but it was hard.
——————————
They woke Scotty up the next day. Sabrina was allowed to watch from the next room, through a clear panel. His body language, what there was of it, was completely wrong, making it harder than ever to accept him as her brother.
Renkayta was running a test, uploading a basic education and language module into his brain to see how it would accept the information. They needed to confirm that his brain was capable of assimilating information before introducing his memories. For simplicity's sake, they decided to teach him only Homeworld's language at first, so that the science team could communicate easily with him. There had been an argument about that, as there seemed to be about most things, Sabrina thought. But finally it was decided that, even if Scotty was returned fully intact to Praxatillus and went back to the military, being able to speak Homeworld's language didn't give him much of a tactical advantage that he couldn't gain by other methods.
When the decision was made, Sabrina tried to get Khediva to teach her a few simple phrases, but Khediva counseled her to simply wait until Scotty was judged capable of handling the slight confusion induced by Wayship translation. It was unlikely, she pointed out, that Sabrina would be allowed contact with her brother before that happened. Tirqwin would be present while Scotty was conscious, to act as his advocate and hopefully before long a familiar and comforting presence.
"I hate that it can't be me," Sabrina had said to Tirqwin just before she was firmly shown out of the lab.
"I know," Tirqwin said. "I will take good care of him, Sabrina. After all, genetically, he is my son now."
More your family than mine now, Sabrina thought miserably as she watched the first halting words her brother spoke—in a language she didn't speak. Hidden behind the one-way viewscreen, she let her tears run down her cheeks. Somehow, seeing this new person created from the ruins of her brother move and speak brought home to her that she had really lost Scotty. Even if the memory restoration worked as well as they hoped, he would still be changed.
Scotty did die on Stanos, she thought.
On the other side of the wall, Tirqwin gently questioned Scotty, ascertaining how much of the educational module he had absorbed. Scotty was obviously puzzled, but he patiently answered the questions until Tirqwin paused.
"Are you my father?"
Tirqwin hesitated just a fraction of a second. "Yes."
Sabrina put her face in her hands. I can't watch this, she realized, and turned to stumble blindly toward the door.
——————————-
An hour later she was sitting on Khediva's control deck, dry-eyed and determined, when Tirqwin and Ford found her. She looked up. "Did it go well?"
"Yes," Tirqwin said. "His mind is functioning within acceptable norms for a Wayfarer. Above average, even. He's asleep now; they've decided to teach him as much background as they can through sleep-learning."
"Good. That's good," she said.
Tirqwin and Ford exchanged glances. Tirqwin said, "Sabrina, I know it upset you that I told him I am his father, but I thought it would be simpler—"
"I know. And it's true, isn't it, in every way that counts," Sabrina replied.
"Then what's the matter?" Ford asked.
"Why should something be the matter?"
"Khediva wouldn't let me come aboard before now. She said you needed some time to think. Are you changing your mind about something?" Ford asked.
"Yes." Sabrina took a deep breath. "About everything."
Tirqwin and Ford glanced at each other again and sat down, one on either side of her. "Tell us," Tirqwin said.
"I realized something, while I was watching. That's...that's a person in there. In that body. Not Scotty, but somebody else. Somebody new." She took another deep breath. "Somebody who deserves a chance. I mean...."
"Sabrina," Tirqwin said gently, taking her hand, "we won't be erasing that person by adding Scotty's memories."
"But we will, in a way," she insisted. "Tirqwin, that man has a chance at a new start. He can...he can become anything he wants. Without all the baggage. All the pain. I've realized these past days, weeks, how much pain there is in those memories. Why should we burden this innocent man with that? What right do we have?"
"What about Scotty's right?" Tirqwin said.
"Scotty died on Stanos!" Sabrina cried, getting up and pacing a tight circle. "I just wouldn't accept it. I should never have asked you to do this. I should have just let him have his damn heroic death and left it at that. It was always inevitable, after all, wasn't it? What he wanted, dammit! And I...I was selfish, and now here we are. But I'm not going to perpetuate my selfishness, my mistake. It stops here. Scotty's memories will die with him, as they should have. This man...he'll be someone new. Someone else. Your son. Not my brother."
Tirqwin leaned back and closed his eyes wearily. "I have plenty of sons, Sabrina. You have only one brother."
"And he is dead. Died in the line of duty. In battle. Like he wanted. Like Rayland," Sabrina insisted angrily. "I mean it, Tirqwin. I want this stopped. Educate that man, so he can go home to Praxatillus—or stay here with your House if he chooses. But don't give him Scotty's memories."
"Sabrina—"
"No arguing! I've made my decision. You don't have the right to countermand it. I'm done talking about this." She practically ran from the control deck.
Tirqwin and Ford stared at each other. "I was not expecting this," Tirqwin admitted.
"I wonder what happened," Ford mused. "She's usually very rational."
Khediva said, "I think she expected, against all science, to recognize something of Scotty in this new person. But I gather the body language is different, and he does not even speak English. I think she finally realized the magnitude of what we are attempting."
"I wish she were back on Praxatillus," Tirqwin sighed, closing his eyes again. "It is too much for her. She has no frame of reference, no ability to detach herself from the situation as a scientist would."
"There's...really nothing stopping us from going ahead," Ford said reluctantly. "She has no authority here."
"Except moral authority. I will not act against her wishes," Tirqwin said, in tones of steel. "I do not have the right."
Ford frowned, looking around. Then he said, "No. But someone does."
"Who? Mara will never—"
"No. But there's one person who has an indisputable right to make this decision. Scotty himself."
Tirqwin bit his lip and held Ford's gaze for a long moment. Khediva said, "I think Niavar is right."
"Sabrina will have to be made to believe in his competence to make that decision," Tirqwin mused.
"With more learning, he will be," Ford said. "Father, aside from moral questions, we've got to get the burden of this off Sabrina. She's suffered so much already. If something goes wrong, I don't know what'll happen to her."
Tirqwin nodded slowly. "Yes. Well, we shall continue with the education program and see what happens. Sabrina may change her mind again, after she has had some time to think."
"Father, get some sleep," Ford advised. "You look tired."
"I am," Tirqwin admitted. "Where are you going?"
"I have another meeting with the Committee," Ford said, referring to the group of scientists, strategists, and politicians gathered to pronounce sentence on The Adventure.
"How is that going?" Tirqwin asked, after a moment.
"Not well. They've gone out of their way to assure me that this 'pathetic attempt at a Wayship,' as they call it, could in no way pose a threat to them, but they still don't want it out there. I think they're going to confiscate and destroy it. It's only a matter of time," Ford sighed.
"And that disappoints you," Tirqwin said sympathetically.
"That's not the word I'd choose," Ford said dryly. "That ship took me years to design and build and refine. It's my one great achievement, the culmination of a lifetime's study. Something I did instead of something I was given. Any idiot could have been Prince of Bathir. Only I could have built that ship. Or, rather, according to the Committee, only I and every Wayfarer toddler."
"Wayfarers do not disparage things they do not fear, at some level," Tirqwin offered after a moment. "Their opinion of your ship must be higher than they are allowing you to believe."
"It doesn't matter. I didn't build it for their approval."
Tirqwin gazed at his son for a moment. "Did you build it for mine?"
Ford's glance was startled. "Hm? Well...I don't think so. But, on some level, perhaps. Maybe it was more...I didn't feel I was very good at being Miahn, so I thought I'd see what sort of Wayfarer I would make. Unfortunately I didn't do any better at that, apparently."
Tirqwin got up and laid a hand on Ford's shoulder. "You did very well, son, for having been denied every advantage Wayfarers take for granted. Had you been born on Homeworld you would have been a Wayfarer candidate, and probably a Tirqwin by now. But you were not. That does not make you less Wayfarer, Niavar, just as having a Tirqwin for a father does not make you less Miahn. It makes you more than either. More than both, I think. If you are searching for yourself, the answer is in you, not in your heritage or your achievements. Take both away and you will still be yourself. And, I am proud to say, that is a fine thing to be in your case."
Ford was speechless for a moment; then he said, "Sabrina's had a go at you, hasn't she?"
"I do not need Sabrina to tell me how well you have turned out. I am quite capable of judging character all on my own, thank you," Tirqwin replied.
Ford was frowning a little, as if trying to work something out. "Then...you don't think of me as the scapegrace of the family?"
"Niavar," Tirqwin said, "I charged you with taking care of Sabrina. That should tell you something. It is not a charge I would have entrusted to any of your siblings."
Ford could only stare after his father as he made his way toward the living quarters, yawning.