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you.   It’s wrong that you can’t read, because someone’s decided you only need to read certain things.  It’s wrong that you can’t draw, if you want to draw.”   He scrubs at his hair again, messing it up even more.  “It’s wrong that someone decided that you can’t have babies.

“But Benna,” he leans forward almost touching me across the table.  “I’m doing this for me, too.  Because just like it was wrong that Greg couldn’t be with who he wanted to love, it’s wrong, Benna, that I can’t be with you.  It’s wrong that I can’t walk down the street, holding your hand, and say I love this girl.  Say it to the world.

“I’m doing this for you, and for me, and for Jobee.  And that has to be okay with you, Benna.  You have to start trusting me, or we won’t make it.”

We’re interrupted by a knock on the door.  Thomas gets up and opens it.

“I’ve been saving this stuff up,” says Deen.  He holds out a small box.

“What is it?”  Thomas takes it.

“It’s reader chips.  Loads of them, maps, some of them, of the parts of Tongal that aren’t inhabited, or at least not by civilized folk.”  Deen sees the look Thomas gives him.

“I know, I know.  What’s civilized?”

“Where did you get these?”

“I traded for some of the maps, down at the pier, when I knew our boys were going to go.  And the rest was Greg and Rob—they did all sorts of research under their false names, so nobody could trace the PIC files they pulled.  There’s some Tongalise language and culture information, and the extradition treaties.  They don’t have one with us, so it looks like you’re safe.  And I got the baby stuff you wanted, too.  From age one on up through to a man.”

I watched Thomas, but he didn’t glance at me.

“Thanks, Deen.  We’re going to need that, all of it.”  He puts the box in the bag that has my drawing materials in it.

“There’s one more thing.”  Deen slips a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.  It’s got a strange symbol stamped on the outside of it, and a clear, adhesive seal over the flap.  “You’ll need this when you get there.  Don’t lose it.  I was supposed to give it to Greg and Rob, but. . . well, it was a gift, from someone you know.”

Thomas waits, but Deen doesn’t say anymore.

Finally, Thomas shrugs and puts the paper in his own pocket.

“Do you know what time the tram we need will leave?”

Deen nodded.  “You’ve got about twenty minutes.  It stops right out on the corner.”

“We’d better get going then.”  Thomas walked Deen to the door.  “I’ll see you out front?”

Deen nodded, and hugged Thomas again.  Then he left.

“You had him get me baby information?”

“I had him get us baby information.”  Thomas doesn‘t look up from his packing.

I go to him.  “Thomas.”  I wait for him to look at me.

“I’ve been afraid.  And foolish.  And selfish.”  I look into his eyes, hoping he understands what I’m trying to say.

He meets my gaze.  He raises his eyebrows. “Go on,” he says.

I’ve completely destroyed us.  Any trust he had in me is broken, because I was too bullheaded to put my trust in him.  I—

Thomas is shaking.  I want to go to him, and wrap my arms around him and tell him how sorry I am that I’ve hurt him.

Until I see that he’s shaking with laughter.

“You!”  My mouth falls open.  I run to the cot and grab the pillow and start hitting him as hard as I can with it.  He fights me off, still laughing, and we end up in a heap on the floor.

“You deserved that,” he says, as soon as he’s caught his breath.

“I did,” I agree.  I sit up so I can see him properly.  “I really do mean it, Thomas.  I have been foolish.  I know what you’re saying, about trusting you, about trusting us.”

“Do you, Benna?”

“I do.”  I don’t know if I can explain it so he’ll understand.  “It’s just so foreign, Thomas.  I was raised by strangers, and trained by strangers, and I lived among strangers.  I had sex with strangers, Thomas, and that was normal.  We weren’t supposed to feel anything for each other.  We weren’t allowed to feel anything.  And even though I did—I felt things for people, Thomas, for the babies, and for my friend, Kris—I knew that I wasn’t supposed to feel.  And I knew, with everyone but the babies, that feeling could be treacherous.  I knew that any time, the only friend I had might turn me in, if she caught me drawing.  She would do it out of fear.  But she would do it.

“That sort of life, that doesn’t let you trust people Thomas.  I have to learn.  And I can learn.  I will learn, with you, if you’ll still let me.”

Thomas watches me while I talk.  When I stop, he is quiet.  He looks at his hands.

“Benna.”  He looks back up at me.  “I think we’ll be learning together.  I think I have as much to learn as you do.  Just about different things.”  He stands up, and helps me up from the floor.  “We’ll do it together Benna.”

I believe him.

Chapter Thirty Three

We scramble, getting dressed, getting last-minute packing done, getting Jobee ready.  In fifteen minutes we’re walking down the hall toward the front door.

Deen meets us there.  He looks upset.

“What’s wrong?”  Thomas looks worried.

“No,” Deen shakes his head.  “It’s okay.”  He pulls a cloth out of his pocket and blows his nose, long and hard.  “I just don’t want to see you go.  You’re the only thing left that reminds me of Greg.  And of Rob.”

Thomas hugs Deen, for a long moment.  “Come see us, Deen.  Start saving for your tropical vacation.  We’ll have a room for you there.”

Deen smiles, a sad, lonely smile.

“I might take you up on that, boy.”  He turns to me.  “Don’t forget what you have here,” he points to Thomas. 

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