The Birth of a new moon

'He's only fourteen.'

'There is never time to waste.'

'Is that why you've taken his art away from him? His 'sacrifice'?'

Steven's face darkened. 'He should not have spoken to you about his Work. It is his alone.'

'I wanted to draft him to help with the school mural; he had to tell me why he couldn't. Why take that from him?'

'I think you know, Ana.'

'Heat and pressure, right? And the last time you put pressure on him, look what happened. My hand is still sore.'

'He has to learn to direct his energies.'

'Steven, how many alchemists were killed by explosions when they misjudged the pressures inside their vessels? More to the point, how many of their students did they take with them?'

So there was a degree of uncertainty in him, she thought, seeing his face. However, he said merely, 'He will learn. Jonas will direct him.'

Ana did not much like the sound of that, but Steven had at least opened a door. She could stay with the community as a whole and with her job. And with Dulcie and her brother. Glen would have a stroke, but if she chose, she might just stay long enough to give him a complete picture of Change. Going by what Steven just said, the center was in England, anyway.

(But—in England, where she had no authority, no Glen, no alarm bell or automatic pistol hidden inside Rocinante? No backup at all, in fact. She would be alone, and with two children on her hands. God, Glen wouldn't bother with handcuffs—he would just straight out murder her for even considering it.)

'When do I need to decide?'

'The tickets will be purchased tomorrow morning. The name of the passenger needs to be on them.'

'And when would we actually go?' she asked, reassuring herself that the end of the school year was still a long way off.

'In three days,' he said. 'You do have a passport?'

Two days later, she drained Rocinante's refrigerator, disconnected the propane tank, gave her knee enough cortisone to keep it numb for weeks, and spirited away the gun and cortisone needles from the hidden compartment to bury them in the desert. Before she pulled the tarpaulin over the bus, she stood looking at the 'medicine pouch' that she had made from the objects in her past that meant something to her: the hairs from two dogs, the stone from her creek, and Abby's red bead. She reached in to remove it from the rearview mirror, and slipped the smooth leather cord over her head and around her neck, where it lay beneath her shirt like a talisman.

She did not manage to speak to Glen before the plane left, although she did rip out the most recent pages of her diary and put them into an envelope addressed to 'Uncle Abner', dropping it surreptitiously into a mail slot at the airport. On the last page she scribbled a note:

No time to contact you, surprise trip to England with some kids being transferred there. I'll write you from the UK when I can. Do we have any family members in the area I can look up while I'm there?

--A

V

Separatio

separate (vb) To set or keep apart; to make

a distinction between; to sever conjugal ties or

contractual relations with; to isolate from a mixture

Separation doth each part from the other devide,

The subtill fro the gross, fro the thick the thin.

Chapter Twenty-three

From the journal of Jason Delgado

The seats had been booked too late to enable them all to sit together, so Ana, in charge of Dulcie, Jason, and a boy not much older than Dulcie who was going to join his mother in England, sat apart from Dov Levinski, a kindergarten teacher named Margit, and their group of three children, two of whom were Margit's. It suited Ana quite well, particularly as the little boy Benjamin was sweet-tempered, sleepy, and no trouble whatsoever.

The plane was scheduled for a three-forty-five takeoff. At four Ana took out the hardback illustrated Hunting of the Snark she had bought in Sedona and presented it to Dulcie. At four-ten the copilot came on the intercom and admitted that they were still on the ground, although the moment the deicer had been unclogged they would be away. By five-fifteen Ana had read Dulcie and Benjamin the Snark four times and most of the other books twice. At five-thirty the passengers heard a series of bangs and thuds from below, and those on the starboard windows were gratified to see the repair truck fill with men and drive away. In another three minutes the big jet lurched and began to creep backward, and Dulcie said she really, really had to use the toilet.

Ana had the child back in her seat and buckled in with twenty seconds to spare. They taxied and accelerated, rattling and roaring until the tons of metal and flesh gave its little hop and they were airborne. Dulcie did not notice, she and Benjamin being busy loudly discussing life in England across Ana's lap, but Jason's eyes shifted constantly, particularly upward to where the overhead baggage compartments were vibrating madly. If one of them drops open, Ana thought, he's going to land five rows back, taking his seat with him.

'Have you flown much, Jason?' she asked to distract him.

'Uh, no.'

'Planes always look like they're about to shake themselves to pieces, but as I understand it, they build the flexibility and movement in. If everything was completely rigid and nailed down, it would be too brittle. Even the wings bend a surprising amount. Much safer that way.'

'Oh yeah?' he said, looking dubiously up at the rattling bins.

'Actually, I don't have the faintest idea if that's true or not. It's just what I tell myself when I fly because it's better than believing the plane is about to fall apart.'

That did distract him, to the point of making him meet her eyes and smile. He leaned back, looking less nervous.

The plane leveled off, drinks and peanuts were handed out, and then there was such a delay before the meal was served that Dulcie and Benjamin both fell asleep. They woke when the food trolley bumped down the aisle, picked at the strange food, eating the cake and some noodles, but Benjamin found the milk strange after a lifetime of goat's milk and Dulcie spilled half of hers. They then wanted to play together with the packet of games and colors the flight attendant had given each of them.

Ana got tired of the elbows digging into her thighs and the constant chatter of excited voices directly under her chin, so she changed places with Benjamin and allowed the two small kids to have the middle of the row, bracketed by her and Jason at the ends. The children colored and played with the headphones, Jason watched the movie, and Ana tried to read the Jung book she had bought in Sedona and tried not to think of Glen.

The movie ended, reading lights were dimmed, toilets were visited, and the two children attempted to get comfortable. A thousand squirms later Ana got out of her seat and arranged pillows and blankets for Benjamin over both seats. Dulcie put her head into Jason's lap, and Ana took her book back a couple of rows, where there were a few empty seats. To her surprise, after a while Jason joined her with his own book, The Old Man and the Sea. He smiled shyly and read six or eight pages before closing it with an audible sigh.

'Are you reading that for school?' she asked. She took off her reading glasses and rubbed her tired eyes, leaning her head back on the headrest.

'Yeah. It's really boring. Nothing happens.'