Lucy and Her Mother War

2. LUCY AND HER MOTHER WAR

Lucy opened her eyes and held her breath. In the space between dream and wakefulness something lurked, like a crouching tiger, or a circling shark. She flexed her eyelids wide, willing her retinas to open so she could see. There, in the corner, next to her door, a coiled body breathed.

‘Mum?’

How long had she been there? Her shift had finished soon after Lucy’s sleep period began. She could have been there all night, waiting for her daughter to wake, wondering what drill to spring upon her.

‘Get up, Lucinda,’ her mother intoned.

Lieutenant Commander Hannah Gemini only called her daughter Lucinda when she meant to frighten her. Lucy clenched her stomach, balled her fingers into fists.

‘You’ve slept long enough, my girl.’

‘It’s Induction Day, mum,’ Lucy started. ‘Our birthday.’

‘So?’ asked the shadow in the corner. ‘Will a celebration stop a meteor shower ripping through the hull? Will a date on the calendar keep the life support running?’

‘No,’ her daughter replied, ‘but I need to be sharp for School. I want to make a good start.’

‘This is your good start. On your feet!’

Her mother lunged across the room. Lucy slid out from under her, over the edge of the bed. Hannah flung Lucy’s blanket over her like a net and tackled her daughter to the ground.

‘You think marks are all you need to survive in this world?’ she seethed through the fabric. ‘Do you know how many people get a promotion one day, only to get kicked down an elevator shaft the next by a crewman who wanted that same job?’

Lucy writhed under the blanket, trying to shift her mother’s weight from her shoulders. She reached through the folds and grabbed Hannah’s wrist. It was like touching a live wire. A fatal current of fear and anger tremored under her mother’s skin.

‘Do you know how many of your classmates aren’t their father’s children, whose mothers were too weak to fight off a troll from Maintenance, or a snake from Admiralty?’

Lucy didn’t answer. She moved her grip up her mother’s arm to her shoulder.

‘Now fight, Lucy. Fight!’

Lucy made her fingers rigid and stabbed up at her mother’s throat. The woman gasped in shock and pain and fell backwards. Lucy rolled out from under her and in the same motion wrapped the blanket around her mother’s neck, and twisted it.

Hannah’s hands rose to her daughter’s cheeks. But she did not tap out. Her fingers remained still, as though this were the only embrace she could bear. Lucy let go and her mother fell forward on all fours, coughing and spitting. Lucy stared at her. She dare not touch her or ask if she was alright. Her concern would only be mocked, and that hurt more than punches.

Gradually, Hannah gained her breath and sat back against the bed. She pulled her sweat-slick hair away from her face to reveal a smile. She pointed at her daughter. ‘That’s the spirit,’ she said.

Ting.

The first bell. Mother and daughter both looked at the door to Lucy’s Gravity Shower. Hannah rose to retrieve a fresh cadet suit from the wardrobe and handed it to her daughter. Lucy took it in silence and began to change. Silently, her mother watched her, saying nothing about the old yellow bruises on her daughter’s wrists and shoulders, or the fresh red marks on the small of her back. None of these would appear on the skin of the avatar seen by Lucy’s teachers and her peers. But as Lucy zipped her uniform up to her chin and turned to enter the black chamber of the Shower, Hannah caught Lucy’s hand and squeezed it.

‘Give em hell, Luce,’ she said.

Lucy did not reply. She did not look back. She bore her tears boldly into the darkness.

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