Shadows of Their Mothers

... and,
3. Therefore, no thoughts or actions of a female are free from sin.

Click-click. Click-click. Lawrence took care to make the chalk-marks tick in rhythm. Three major points down, one to go. He took a step back from the blackboard to see whether they lined up neatly.

They did. That felt really calming: here it was, today's lesson put clearly and cleanly, his duty done properly. Well, a part of his duty: he turned to survey the classroom and check whether everyone was taking notes.

The rows of boys bent over their exercise books also looked rather neat. Well, some of them were already finishing and raising their eyes to the blackboard. And Jamie at the third desk from the door frowned thoughtfully as if he wanted to ask something.

Lawrence frowned too. Jamie had a tendency to ask unpleasant questions at times: not rude or silly, no, but questions Lawrence could not answer. Those he kept worrying about.

Thankfully, this time he was spared. Probably some other, more experienced teacher in his place would long ago have scolded the boy for bothering him with silly questions, but Lawrence couldn't quite bring himself to do so. Jamie was generally a nice boy, after all, not given to meanness; and his family...

Quite silly, too, to worry about boys' families. The boys themselves should be the focus of a teacher's attention; they were told now and again in the teachers' seminary. The boys and the task of helping them grow up as worthy citizens. Nothing else. Still, he hadn't managed to shake off his awe at learning that his pupil's DA was a Population Counsel member. Not a person to be bothered with trifles.

Not that there were reasons to bother him. Not really. Jamie was a nice boy, after all. Also, at this very moment he looked down at his notes and took up his pen again, underlining something. Very commendable; Lawrence always had praised neat note-taking. Of course, some boys' writing was so unreadable that no amount of underlining could make their notes look presentable, but he had plans to correct that. After all, it was only his first year with those boys. There was time to work with them, to ensure their best qualities' development...

"Mr Sanders?"

Oh God the Father, a question. At least not Jamie's. Taddeus over near the window would never think of anything out of the ordinary.

"Mr Sanders, what about female animals? Are they, too, full of sin? Then how..."

Lawrence breathed out slowly and very quietly. That one was easy; every second lesson on this topic someone asked about female animals.

"Taddeus, Taddeus, look into your notes again. What is point one? Now think, can that relate to female animals? You should apply what you are told to make conclusions, so that you can make informed decisions when you finish your schooling, and ultimately to bring God's wisdom into your everyday life."

Back into stride. Seven minutes till the end of the lesson.

* * *

Ian quickly pulled his jacket on and ran out onto the school steps. Today he and Jamie had the same amount of lessons, so Jamie wouldn't be waiting -- or going home alone. Ian much preferred days like today; Jamie alone tended to get into trouble, no matter whether waiting on the school steps or on the way home. And then Ian usually had to go and bail him out.

Not that he minded (even when other guys in class teased him about being Jamie's minder). Jamie never meant any harm; he was just a bit too curious and prone to going after what he wanted. And Ian simply preferred to avoid trouble.

Today, however, his foster brother did not seem to be in a mood to make trouble. That had Ian worried: he rarely saw Jamie so thoughtful, and certainly never this quiet. He pondered on this a bit, kicking any small stone that had a misfortune to lie on his path. Jamie usually teased him for this habit; today he was silent. Ian sneaked a look at him. Jamie was chewing his lower lip.

Directness, in Ian's opinion, was usually the best approach. Especially in their family. "What's wrong, Jamie?"

Jamie paused.

"I was thinking... about the Thing."

"The Thing?"

"Yes. Well. The Thing. You know, from last week. I told you about that, you couldn't have forgotten!"

Now Jamie looked genuinely upset, a weird mix of pleading and anger in his eyes. Jamie with that look... that was rare. He wasn't even so upset when he had told Ian about the Thing. Which was, of course, a talk Ian remembered almost word for word.

Indeed, on that day Jamie'd seemed more curious than anything else. "I got it," he kept repeating happily, even though both of them were sent to their room as a punishment, instead of going on a long promised excursion. That certainly got Ian out of his misery. "I got it clearly, Ian! This time I know it's not just a guess or some weirdness!"

That was their secret, Jamie's and his: Jamie's weirdness. A secret by Jamie's choice; Ian sometimes suspected their parents knew about that, too, but Jamie wouldn't budge, wouldn't talk to them, wouldn't ask for advice. He was bent on learning the truth himself (well, with some help from Ian, as always): could he really hear sometimes what other people were thinking or was it just a chance or weird lucky guess?

Ian suggested a scientific experiment (truth be told, after Father took him to a genetics lab last year, he took to conducting scientific experiments whenever and however he could), but after a day or two Jamie dismissed him as a suitable subject. "Anyone would know what you're thinking, Ian," he had said grumpily. "It's all written on your face."

Knowing that to be more or less true, Ian just asked: "Well, what are we going to do then? Maybe..." He doubted Jamie'd agree to talk to their fathers just yet, but sometimes, if it was important enough, Jamie would change his mind if you prodded him enough.

"No!" Jamie exclaimed. Then, probably noticing Ian's frown, he added: "Not yet, please? Let's just wait and observe for now."

And that was that, before the Thing happened. On that day when Father came home so unexpectedly early, just to catch them at his computer, deep into quite a different avenue of research... ("You can't get into the Rep Center network!" Jamie had said. "I can so," Ian had answered, being reasonably proud of his computer skills.)

Ian winced at the memory. He wasn't thinking about what they were doing at that moment. He did not think about the Center's importance, and confidential information, and all that. The only thing that mattered was that Jamie had said he couldn't do it, and he knew he could. And so he only saw a task ahead of him, not the way Father would look at him, clearly disappointed and upset. He hated making Father angry -- but even more than that, he hated disappointing him. Thank God the Thing had happened to distract him, or he'd still be worrying and feeling ashamed.

At first he was too busy trying to explain to father just what they were doing (he just hoped he hadn't sounded like he was looking for excuses). He only noticed Jamie's glee when they were sent back to their room.

Once they were alone with the door locked Ian went to the windowsill to look outside into the garden and to think -- that was his favourite place for thinking, -- and Jamie flopped down on his bed. And bounced. And bounced. And then bounced some more.

"Jamie!"

"I got it!" Jamie exclaimed, jumping up. "I got it for sure, Ian!"

That certainly distracted Ian from worrying about what Father had thought and how he could have been that silly. "What did you get?"

"A confirmation! It was so clear, and I know I couldn't have guessed because nobody could have guessed such a thing!"

"What thing?" Ian asked, going to sit on his own bed.

"About women." Ian winced at the word. "Well, one woman." Jamie whispered, his eyes shining. "When you were trying to talk us out of trouble. I know I couldn't have guessed anyone thinking "Just like his mother" about you, I know I couldn't! And imagining... Ian, it must have been a woman! And they certainly look weird, then!" he added, bouncing some more (Father swore last month that Jamie would get a course of bed repair lessons as his next birthday present).

It was never easy to get a coherent story out of Jamie when he was really excited, but Ian had a long practice in doing that. But this time the story was way too strange. There was a woman... He winced again just at repeating this word in his mind, but he knew he had to analyze the facts. His Father -- or even both his fathers -- knew a woman, and that woman was...

Impossible. That sounded just... too unreal and weird. Even more so than those weirdnesses of Jamie's. They tried to discuss it for a couple of days, going to sit in the garden -- too cold now for baby Marty to go for long walks, -- and repeating the words that made no sense and shrugging at each other helplessly. Even testing Jamie's weirdness was easier. Ian noticed Father looking at them with a surprised eye and then with a smile. But they still had not come to any conclusion about how it could have happened and what it could have meant. Ian almost started believing Jamie had got something wrong (he never said it to Jamie, of course).

And then Jamie had that lesson. One that Ian himself had a while ago and almost forgotten, because there were more interesting things to think about. About sin and females and God the Father's will for the Founding Fathers... No one was interested in such things because you knew them anyway, but putting this together with the Thing... Yeah, Ian could see how that would be upsetting. He would probably get upset too except that his mind went blank when he reminded himself the word "mother". And Jamie thought about big questions far more often than Ian.

"What are you thinking about?" Ian asked.

"Emotions," Jamie said slowly. "Our fathers... they kind of did not seem upset, you know? Well, they did, about us getting into the Centre network. But they were thinking about a woman just as... I don't know, like I'd think about Mr Sanders, or Uncle Steve, or somebody like that. Like it was ordinary. "

"Well, maybe it is okay, then," Ian answered, trying to sound reasonable. "I mean, can you imagine Father ever doing something that was not right?" Except that he probably did. If Jamie had got that Thing right. Which he probably had; he seemed pretty certain.

Jamie grinned at him for a moment, but then grew serious again. "But that doesn't make any sense! Females are full of sin, like Mr Sanders said. All females. I mean, okay, your father went off-Athos, we knew he probably had met them, that was inevitable. But why would he want to remember that? And the idea of a mother... That's just weird. And kind of gross. You can't have had a mother! I want to know why. I want to know how it all adds up to what Founding Fathers had said."

"Then we have to ask them, I guess." Ian sighed. "I know you like keeping secrets, but this is just like beating your head against the wall. No use at all."

* * *

And so they did ask. Jamie objected, but that was just Jamie.

They burst into the room and when Ian saw Father on his favorite sofa, eyes half-closed, he just took a plunge and asked his question straightaway. He knew otherwise he'd get too embarrassed to speak, especially about the wo... females. "Father, are women really so full of sin?"

Ian was both glad and worried that it was his father, not Jamie's, who stayed home today. It was easier to start a talk with him, but often much harder to finish: he wouldn't just let you go like Jamie's father would; he'd keep working on what you asked him and taking it so deeply that you just had to keep going with him. Jamie's father was definitely more easy-going in serious talks like the one they had to have now (though not in other things).

And then he saw baby Marty playing with his building blocks on the carpet across from. Now, Ian knew, he was certainly in for it -- you just didn't use such words in front of little boys.

However, Father never said anything about that. He just opened his eyes, looking straight at Ian and Jamie, and asked Marty to go and play in his room for a while. That was strange, but Ian, already wound up by Jamie's strange mood, was a bit too uneasy to wonder.

"Well," Father said slowly and seemingly without surprise, once Marty, grumbling, carried the most important toys out of the room, "you know the Founding Fathers' teachings as well as I do -- probably better, at that. I think Jamie should be just at that topic at school, but I presume you aren't asking me for help with homework, are you?"

Ian tried to calm down. This was serious. Surely Father would explain everything, but he had to listen attentively.

"You knew a woman, didn't you?" Jamie said insistently. "Like, talking and all that, really knew her, you didn't just see a couple of them. If women are really so full of sin, why were you comparing Ian to one? Getting into the Center network is not that sinful, and we were together anyway! And does he really have a mother? How can anyone have a mother?"

Ian just shrugged helplessly, looking at Father.

Father frowned and leaned a bit towards his hands on his knees.

"Come sit down," he said at last with a sigh. "And Jamie, where did you get all this, about me comparing Ian to a woman?"

And suddenly Ian realized that Father, too, had secrets like Jamie and him. Because right now Father looked like a teacher asking a pupil something. Like he knew the answer already and was just checking what the student would say.

Still, they settled on the old deep brown sofa, Ian choosing the far end, wanting to watch the two of them. Jamie was getting a bit too excited again, and if Ian was right about Father having secrets, it would be better if one of them watched and listened carefully. And then Ian felt a bit sick, because it felt wrong to think about speaking with Father in such a way. It was like one more thing suddenly wrong with the world.

He blinked and then turned to watch Father and Jamie anyway. Because he had to know.

"Well, Jamie?" Father looked quietly concerned, and at the same time so very much like usual, like any other time when he was home on this very sofa and they went to him with a problem. Ian decided that he had to be wrong; how could Father be like this if he already knew about the Thing?

"You thought about it," Jamie said resolutely. "I just... I just get things like this sometimes, and you looked at Ian and there was that thought about some person who must have been a woman because no man looks that weird and you did not mind thinking about her at all, so what does it mean? How could you, if what they say at school is true? And how did you meet her anyway?"

Father combed his hair back with his fingers, making it look much worse than it was before. "As for how I met women, you know I only went off-planet once -- and that was quite enough for me. As for the other thing -- you know, boys..." He paused. Father was talking about all this seriously, but still... normally, Ian thought. So it must be okay. There must be an explanation that would take away all weirdness. Father could do it. "I'm not sure how to put it clearly. You see, people are... varied. For example, we all are trying to follow the way of God the Father, but not all of us are equally good at that. But that doesn't mean we're not all his children. This is the way, I believe, it also works with other things.... I'm not making much sense, am I?"

"No, you aren't," an amused voice answered him out of the doorway. "You used to be much better at explaining theology, Ethan." Ian grinned slightly; his fathers were always teasing each other like this.

"Dad!" Jamie exclaimed, startled. "I didn't know you'd be home early today".

"It's not that early, actually," his father answered, sitting down on the other end of the sofa. Was he also planning to watch everyone carefully, Ian suddenly wondered? "It's just that all of you seem a bit too preoccupied to pay attention to time. Now, what prompted this sudden turn to religious conversation?" That, too, sounded like any other evening talk at home. Everyone was being normal.

"Well, see, I had a lesson today," Jamie started, much slower and clearer this time -- he seemed to calm down too, "on Founding Fathers' teachings on females." Thank God the Father he stopped using that word. Scientific thought or not, it was just... too rude. "And I don't get it. I mean... I got this Thing last week, when both of you were looking at Ian and thinking how he is like someone... like some woman! But how can that be?"

"A Thing? Ah, I see..."

Their fathers exchanged a Look, and that was also normal except that it also meant they definitely had secrets they meant to keep. Why couldn't Jamie guess what they were thinking? Ian felt frustrated; would he be left without an answer after all?

"You see, boys," Jamie's father finally said, leaning back on the wall, sounding easy and unruffled, as if relating an anecdote from work, "it was all actually quite simple. You know why Ethan had to go off-planet, don't you?"

"To order new ovarian cultures," Ian answered readily; Father did not talk about it often, but the story was well enough known, "but..."

"Well, he met a woman who kindly donated a sample for Athos..."

"A culture from which you were born," Father added. "EQ-1." And Ian knew that, of course. Now, "culture" and "sample" sounded much more normal. Even though logically cultures had to come from ... from females. Why did they insist on using bad words? It felt weird when your fathers said bad words in front of you. With an effort Ian focused again on what Jamie's father was saying.

"... and since no group of people is totally similar -- no men of one commune, or of one profession, or born of one culture -- she wasn't that bad, and even helped us a lot. Actually, that was quite an interesting story; it started when someone else stole the cultures..."

* * *

"That was really quite an interesting story," Ian said to Jamie that evening when they were getting ready for bed. "Just think, our fathers having such adventures!"

Jamie wasn't looking at him.

"Jamie? What's wrong?"

"I got it again," Jamie whispered. "The Thing. From my father this time! He was thinking `You remind me of your mother too'!"

* * *

"Well," Ethan said much later in the evening, "we went over that hurdle much easier than I expected."

Terrence turned towards him, half smiling. "Always an optimist. You do realize that this is only the first hurdle?"