Episode Five: Adam #15

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That night after work, Zeta checked station time against Consortium-perfected time and put in a courtesy message via hyper relay. Her mother answered promptly. "Zeta, honey, I am glad to hear from you."

"I haven't called in a while," Zeta replied, sheepish. "I thought it was time."

"You've been so busy with your job and all."

"I know, but I don't call like I should. I am sorry, that's all."

"Nonsense. You are driven. That's admirable. You've always been that way, in school and after. Now you are a big shot. Practically an ambassador, and you're barely thirty. Quite impressive."

"Mom, stop," Zeta said. She blinked back tears. They could save this for another conversation. Zeta could play the dutiful daughter, and Mom could make a thousand excuses why Zeta hadn't called in months.

"Is something wrong?"

Zeta opened her mouth to explain but instead said, "Why? Why did you do it?"

Mom sat down, her mouth a line. She looked away. "I expected to have this conversation when you were a tridek. When it didn't come . . ."

"Why?" Zeta persisted.

"I wanted a child. Is that a crime?"

"Yes. You could have adopted."

"I didn't want some other child," Mom snapped. "I wanted you." She shook her head and then watched gently while Zeta cried. "You are my daughter. My flesh and blood. Maybe I'm a mystical fool. Your father would have me believe so. 'A child is a child. You will learn to love it.' But I wouldn't be dissuaded. I knew I would have a child, my child. And I would love that child in a way I could never love any other."

"And?"

"You shouldn't even have to ask. I adore you," Mom said. "I knew you were special the moment I saw you. And you've not disappointed me, ever."

Zeta wiped a tear. "Thanks. But was it worth it? The things that you and Dad went through?"

"Yes," Mom said. And then, "It was tough, I'll say that. I would have wished it easier, for you, for your father. The issues... legal and social stuff, I can't say it was fun to go through. But I never blamed you or father, not one bit."

Zeta blushed. She had spent much of her youth and even adulthood blaming both her parents for putting her in that situation.

"It was harder for you," Mom said. "I know. It's okay."

Zeta shook her head. "There's a situation here. It's dredged up a lot of those feelings."

"You know the child?"

"I'm a diplomat, Mom."

Comprehension dawned on her face. "No. They can't expect you to investigate."

"It's my job. I am head of this office. I can't pass it on to another."

"But still . . ."

"It'd be worse anyway, to not be in control."

"What are you going to do?"

Zeta rocked in her chair. "My boss says we must investigate, make a report. That's all. The rest is up to Legal."

"And what will they do?"

"I wish I knew," Zeta responded. "It would make my report so much easier if I knew their minds."

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