“What?” A tear runs down Aline’s cheek.
“When her father was being taken away after the final farewells, he turned back one last time and smiled fondly at her. ‘Daughter’, he said. ‘Saskia’, and then he left forever.”
The scene freezes with Aline and Rozamond holding hands. The entranced students look down to the stage of the auditorium where Professor Miyagi is smiling up at them.
“Nice touch, don’t you think? You may wipe your tears away now.” Ximena laughs softly and actually rubs her eyes. Even Mark, beside her, passes a finger across his cheek. “You may think that is some cheap drama dreamed up for the final dreamsenso. But no. Everything you see here, it really happened. That conversation between Aline and Rozamond, it did really happen. It was all documented by Speese-Marai herself, many years later.”
Some students raise their hands.
“Hold on a sec,” Miyagi says. “Before opening the Q&A, I want to show you another exchange that happened a couple of hours later. It is relevant for our analysis.”
He whispers something at Ank, who in turn gives Bob a sidelong glance. In an instant, Aline and her mother disappear, and a new scene takes their place.
It is Edda again, walking away from the grass field. More people in the background are leaving as well. Her pace is quick on the paved street that links the Joyousday House with the rest of the colony. A greeting that comes her way from a passing horse and cart goes unanswered. She also ignores each of the returning Speese guests that cycle past her with a raised hand. With a scowl that threatens to turn the next saluting passerby into ashes, she reaches the outermost houses of the colony—red-bricked, double-story, some with sizable vegetable gardens. Unchanged for countless generations.
“Edda, wait for me!”
Edda’s frown deepens, but she slows down a notch. “I hate you, Dad,” she says without turning. Not true, Ximena feels. But oh, she’s mad.
Willem reaches Edda slightly out of breath, his right hand clumsily nudging a pair of thin glasses in place. “I love you too, girl,” he says with the smile of a tantrum-hardened parent. “Do I perceive a hint of anger?”
“Very observant. Leave me alone.”
“Please, Edda. You must learn to accept the world as it is. You cannot change it.”
She abruptly stops and turns. “I don’t want to change the world. I just want you to stay in it!”
“I know.” Willem’s resigned smile broadens. “Nothing would make me happier as well.”
They walk again, slower now, side by side.
“I admit I feel strange,” Willem says. “Rozamond’s Joyousday was…” he searches for the right word, “… disturbing. I’m happy, Edda. I love my family.” He caresses her hair. “I even love my students.” He laughs. “I love my life. And I admit I’m not ready to leave it.”
“Then don’t!”
“But what do you expect me to do? Even if there had been poison in that bottle, what could I…?” He swallows, and softens his voice. “Do you know what would happen to our family’s standing if I cancel my Joyousday?” He speaks almost in a whisper. “Our prestige would be in shatters.”
“I don’t care. We don’t care.”
“You must!” Willem stops and puts his hand on her shoulder. “Bram and you will soon be the Van Dolah elders. You must never forget our standing in the colony. Your lives, little Hans’s life, all your futures will soon be in your hands, Edda.”
They walk on in silence. Ximena feels Edda’s anxiety, the pressure—the fear. He’s dead serious. He never calls her by her name.
“And what for?” Willem continues. “A few more months? A year at the most? Dem will inevitably catch me…”
“But Dem is just a lie!”
“Edda…”
“You know I’m right, Dad. Have you actually seen anybody with Dem?”
“No, but come on, girl. You are smarter than that. Nowadays everybody strictly observes the Joyousday when they turn twenty-seven. Dem never has a chance to take hold.”
“But think about it, who’s really benefiting from all this… death?”
“Hush!” Willem looks nervously around and remains silent for a few seconds. “Let’s walk home,” he finally says. They get moving. “I also have my doubts…” he whispers.
“Then why—?!”
“But,” Willem interrupts, “that doesn’t change the fact that our family will suffer if I do not attend aws Call.”
“I don’t give a damn about our reputation!” Edda yells at him. “Let’s take the family somewhere else if we need to; another colony, on the frontier.”
“What good would that do? Joyousday is Joyousday, and I’m turning twenty-seven here and in the frontier. There’s no escaping it. Besides, there have been worse regimes in history than aws Imperia if you really think about it.”
“You are not possibly defending—”
“Why not? If you leave your emotions aside and try to be objective, you will realize there’s much we have to thank Goah for.”
“Like what?”
“Well, er, we’ve got aws Gift and aws Compacts for starters. And nobody lacks shelter nor sustenance. That’s an incredible achievement for any post-collapse society. What else? Uh, we are reasonably free, have families and stability, meaningful work that matters, and even enough free time to… whatever.”
“Wonderful regime, yeah. With just a few tiny caveats, like inequality, the arbitrary distribution of karma, the lies and propaganda, aws Head’s absolute power. Am I forgetting something?” She taps her chin. “Ah, yeah. The fucking killing us all. Goah’s Mercy, Dad. I don’t want you to die in two months!” She is close to tears. “Remember when in Mom’s Joyousday—?”
“Enough!” His shout freezes Edda in place. “I will not hear any more of this. You will respect my decision. I expect to have some peace in my last weeks of life.” Any trace of tenderness in his voice is
