Young Writers Society

The smell of herbs and honey greeted Analia at the door and conjured up a wave of memories. As children, she and Verona had spent hours at Sue’s house after school while their mother worked, playing with Sue’s own teenage children. But they grew, Sue’s children left one by one, and when she and Verona wen re old enough to watch themselves, the visits dwindled and faded into memory.

Now, of course, there were no toys strewn across the floor, and the pictures on the mantle were of graduations and weddings rather than birthdays and band concerts. But the overstuffed couches, the books lining the bookshelves, and the intricate rug were all heart-achingly familiar. It was even the same bowl of candy sitting on the mantelpiece that Verona used to sneak mints from while Analia kept watch.

She stood frozen in the doorway for a moment as Sue disappeared down the hallway and into the kitchen, then shook herself and followed the older woman. Passing a den on her right, she caught a glimpse of Sue’s husband sitting in front of a wallscreen, gesturing rapidly as he navigated through a complicated mess of charts and graphs.

In the kitchen, Sue already had a pot boiling on the stove. “It’s almost ready, dear – I left it simmering before church,” she said, noticing Analia. “Would you mind going and asking Seil if he wants some?”

Analia nodded, realizing Seil must be her husband’s name. She headed back to the den and poked her head inside. “Um... Mr. Lipton, Sue says there’s some food cooking, if you want it.”

He shook his head dismissively, eyes never wavering from the screen, seemingly unconcerned by Analia’s presence in his house. Analia bit her lip and went back to the kitchen, where the rich smell made her wonder how Seil could resist Sue’s cooking. Sue was ladling a thick soup into two bowls. Analia noticed she had only set the table for two.

“I think he’s busy,” Analia said, tracing the edge of the table with her finger. Large and wooden, it bore many scratches, memories of children’s carelessness.

Sue nodded, the lines around her face deepening. “He usually is, these days. I ask anyway.”

Analia swallowed, not sure how to respond. Wordlessly, she took her bowl. They sat at the table, Analia across from Sue. She stirred her soup as curls of steam rose from it, avoiding Sue’s gaze. She wasn’t sure she wanted to speak her mind yet. Balance, she wasn’t even sure what she was doing here. What right did she have to infringe on Sue’s hospitality like this?

She tried the soup. It was rich and creamy, the vegetables little islands in a pale sea. “This is good!” she said, and took another large spoonful, only to find that this one was much hotter than the first. Her eyes went wide as it seared the inside of her mouth. She forced it down with a gulp and immediately started to splutter. Alarmed, Sue came around the table and started pounding her on the back. Analia could feel the soup’s passage down her esophagus, a ball of liquid flame. “Balance, that burns!” she said, when she regained her breath and wiped her streaming eyes.

“I’m sorry, I should have warned you it was hot!” Sue said, “Are you okay?” Analia stared at Sue’s stricken face for a moment and burst out laughing. For some reason, the whole incident struck her as hilarious. “Yes – I’m – fine,” she gasped. Sue joined in, laughing at Analia’s laughter, and just like that, the ice was broken.

In a minute, their laughter hiccupped to a stop. Analia couldn’t remember the last time her sides hurt this much. Why had that even been funny?

“Well,” Sue said. “Dinner with you is quite the adventure.”

“I don’t normally choke on my soup, if that’s what you mean,” Analia retorted playfully. She took another sip of the soup, being careful to blow on it first.

Sue settled back in her seat with a sigh. “But now, I want you to tell me how things have been going since the accident – with school, work, anything.”

Analia put her spoon down and rested her head in her hands. She opened her mouth, meaning to say that everything was about as fine as could be expected, but the words got stuck halfway up her throat, and instead everything else came spilling out. Before she knew it, she had told Sue all about the problems Verona had caused with her crazy stunt – the financial issues, the public embarrassment, and the hurt.

“I just miss her so much. She tried to murder someone. Anyone else, I’d call them a monster. But she’s my twin. I thought I knew her. I didn’t think she ever do something like that, but she did. And I still miss her.” Analia couldn’t look Sue in the face, so she stared at her bowl instead.

“Well, of course you do,” said Sue, reaching over to pat her hand. “You miss the way things used to be. I don’t think there’s anybody in the world who hasn’t wished for something like that before. And a forty-year sentence…it’s harsh.”

“But she’s a murderer,” Analia said.

“Analia, be reasonable,” Sue said, her voice suddenly sharp. “Verona has not killed anyone. Murrin is perfectly fine. What you really need to decide is: was her sentence fair? Does the Verona that you know – and don’t discount your twenty-plus years of experience because she did something you didn’t expect – does she deserve to spend the rest of her life on a penal colony?”

“Why does it matter? Her sentence is the same, whether I like it or not.”

“I think deciding how you feel about the situation will give you peace of mind.”

“Fine,” Analia said, resolve hardening. “She deserves it. She should have thought things through. I’m sure she didn’t realize what would happen, but that doesn’t make her any less culpable.”

Sue nodded, looking weary. “I won’t try to change your mind.”

“What, you would forgive her?” Analia challenged.

“As an outsider, I’m inclined to. But I don’t know. Maybe, if I were in your place, I would feel the same way,” Sue admitted.

Analia decided to steer the conversation in a different direction. “But forgiveness isn’t important, according to Nirvana. What matters is justice, right? Absolute equality. According to Teacher Egrand, anyway.”

“Oh, that doctrine’s been around for ages, you know it has. Nirvana has always dealt in justice, as is only right for a being of her power,” Sue said. “The only part that’s new is that he wants us to try and make it into mortal law.”

“To be perfectly honest,” Analia said, “I agree with his goals. Just because Shaping is something everybody can do doesn’t mean those who do it don’t deserve decent wages. I never told her, but I didn’t want Verona to be a Shaper because I didn’t think she’d be able to get a good job. And I do think colony worlds should have more representation in the Senate, and the education restrictions have always been ridiculous. It’s just…”

“…it’s political,” Sue finished.

Analia nodded. “And I don’t think that’s the point of following Nirvana. It’s like he’s trying to take the doctrine and fit it to an agenda.”

“All this is actually a very concerted effort,” said Sue. “These new ideas are being spread across the whole church. Rumor has it that the High Council itself is behind this.”

The High Council was made up of four people, who were said to be already Balanced souls, reincarnated again to lead Nirvana’s people. If it came from them, it was doctrine, as simple as that. They didn’t tend to set strict doctrine or rules, preferring to let the people find their own route to Balance. The fact that they were pushing it this hard...

Analia sat back, a little bit dumbfounded. She hadn’t realized it was a church-wide movement. “But that – that’s so strange. Why would this be that important to Nirvana? Human politics are beneath her.”

“Maybe it’s like they say – she wants us to give everyone an equal chance in each life, and she’s gotten tired of the injustice.”

“It must be that,” agreed Analia. Now that she understood the source, she felt lighter. One burden of doubt had been lifted. She didn’t understand Nirvana’s reasoning, but it would be arrogant of her to presume to understand a goddess anyway. She still didn’t like it, but she could accept it. And of course, the High Council was the mouthpiece of Nirvana. Otherwise was not a worldview she wanted to accept.

But still, she didn’t want to be reminded of the galaxy’s problems every time she went to church.

Several hours later, Analia flashed her ID card across her apartment’s security pad. The door unlocked, and she entered her house, shivering in the chill air. Her mind was abuzz, mulling over her discussions with Sue. She had left Sue’s house feeling not quite reassured, but less anxious.

As she set her purse down, an alert flashed in her holovision, announcing that there had been another protest downtown. Analia gestured to open the video feed and watched them for a minute, waving signs and shouting as a blond-haired reporter spoke over them.

This is what Nirvana wants all of us to do, she realized. Analia had never been much for praying, but that night she sent up one question. Why now? she begged silently. Don’t I have enough to deal with already?