Funeral Codes / Funeral Rites
"Funerals are not for the dead. They're for the living."
-from A Cantor's Guide to Grief by Roya Segovia
Being on the front was far more boring than Sid had anticipated. He wasn't allowed onto the planet until they had established a very defensible position, and that was not looking like it was going to happen any time soon. It was turning out to be far more difficult than expected to deal with this planet. Because the vast majority of the planet was water, and the parts that weren't were heavily forested, every time that shuttles landed, they needed to establish a beachhead and push up towards their objectives.
It also didn't help that, from out of nowhere, other ships had jumped in to harry the Gatekeeper and provide assistance to the planet. There must have been another ship that had jumped out when the Impulse had arrived in system, that no one had noticed. Either that, or the planet had their own ansible and was calling for help from some other source.
These new ships were sending supplies down to the planet and attacking all of the Gatekeeper's shuttles. Because the Gatekeeper needed to stay out of the range of the hivemind on the planet, they couldn't approach and give their shuttles a shorter journey or meaningful support as they landed. The shuttles had to cross a long and barren stretch of space, where they were lit up like little stars from their acceleration. Very easy targets.
The new ships had effective aerial supremacy.
The Gatekeeper, unlike the Impulse, was not designed to win a battle in orbit. The enemy ships had at least one sensitive each, and that made touching them directly almost impossible, even if they could get shuttles close enough to attack.
It was especially troubling, as well that the force on the planet cut off all communications to and from the planet. It was simply that invisibility again, and it killed all radio contact between forces on the surface and forces in the air.
So, with the Gatekeeper cut off from her ground troops and completely neutralized in the sky, with no way to call for backup, it was a simultaneously boring and stressful time for Sid.
He wished Ervantes had asked to transfer ships with him. He wished the backup would come quickly, and that it would be of the right kind and amount. He wished that the ground forces could establish enough of a position that the ansible could be set up.
He spent a lot of time wondering what everyone else was up to. Had the Emperor meted out his punishment on Kino for her yelling at the captains? Was Yan doing alright? How was Sandreas enjoying having the other two apprentices hack? Did Ervantes miss him?
Fortunately or unfortunately, Sid didn't have to wait too long for the answers to those questions.
The Pride of Lonn was a transport ship, small as far as Fleet ships went, and it jumped in to the outskirts of the system. Its arrival caused a great stir and surprise among the Gatekeeper's third shift bridge crew, who were on duty at the time.
Sid himself was asleep, and he was woken by someone gently shaking his shoulder. He jolted up, winced in the bright light, and squinted at the shadowy figure above him. His eyes focused.
It was Hernan, and next to him was the nervous looking woman, Charrie Wu, who had been assigned to him as liaison while aboard the Gatekeeper. Since he had been sleeping mostly naked, Sid pulled the blankets up to ensure that at least his underwear was covered from view.
"She was ringing your doorbell for a long time before she came to find me," Hernan signed, an amused expression on his face.
Sid had set up his doorbell to flash the lights, but he was a heavy sleeper, and that was not going to wake him up. Hernan could have called him-- his phone would have vibrated enough to wake him up. It must be pretty urgent, then, that he needed to be awake.
Still slightly bleary, Sid fumbled around on his nightstand for his glasses and put them on his face. "What's the issue?" he asked Wu.
"Supply drop is here," Wu said, averting her eyes ever so slightly. "There's a courier with an urgent message for your eyes only."
An urgent, secret message from Emerri sounded like it couldn't be anything but bad news, and fifteen day old bad news at that. He frowned. "Where's the courier?"
"Coming by shuttle now. He can meet you in your office," Hernan said aloud. Sid's 'office' was a tiny, little used meeting room, but it was as good as he was ever going to get aboard a Fleet ship.
"Fine." Sid yawned. "I'll get dressed and be there. Any idea what it's about?"
"It's whatever news is off Emerri, along with any new orders," Wu said. "No one gets any information without it going through you."
"I have to assume the orders are unchanged..." Sid muttered, but a fear was brewing in his chest. "I guess I'll find out in a minute. Now, if you could be so kind as to leave, sso that I can get dressed."
They left, and Sid prepared himself for whatever the bad news was. He couldn't imagine. Could Sandreas have died? That didn't seem likely. But there were just too many possibilities.
He arrived in his office not too much later, waiting with Hernan and Wu. He had his computer open in front of him, ready to receive the news on whatever data stick he was about to be handed.
"Does Captain Baczynski want to be here?" he asked.
"She's coordinating supply transfers from the bridge. You can send her the relevant information once you get it," Wu said.
Wu and Hernan stood abruptly. Hernan signed, "Knock." There was someone at the door.
"Come in," Sid called, standing as well.
Sid did a double take when the door opened. Standing there in formal uniform was Ervantes Cesper, whom Sid had not expected to see again for months. Sid grinned at him. Ervantes saluted stiffly.
"Lieutenant! It's good to see you again." Sid couldn't keep the smile off of his face, no matter how unprofessional it was. The thought of the bad news that Ervantes was carrying had slipped out of his mind at the sight of his face.
"I have an urgent message to you from First Sandreas," Ervantes said. "It's for you and you alone." He looked at Wu and Hernan.
"Of course. You're dismissed for now," he said, rather awkwardly, to Wu and Hernan. "I'll let you know when I need you."
Hernan nodded and escorted Wu out. Ervantes shut the door behind them. Just so that there was no chance of interruption, Sid casually used the power to lock the door.
"This is for you, Second Welslak," Ervantes said, holding out a data stick.
Sid reached for it, but froze as his brain registered fully the word he read off his glasses. His heart beat, and he felt a sudden weakness in his arms.
"Second?" he asked, though he wasn't sure if he was even making any sound.
"You should read the letter first," Ervantes said, pressing the data stick into Sid's outstretched hand. Sid collapsed into his chair as though the tiny chip was a million ton load. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before putting it into his computer, but he did, and he read the letter that awaited him.
Dear Sid,
This is the hardest letter that I've ever had to write, or the hardest one that I've written in a long time, at least. I understand better how you must have felt as you wrote to me at Vaneik's funeral.
You were right to warn me about Kino, and I'm sure that fact brings neither of us joy. I find it difficult to even explain what has happened.
Kino has always been a spy.
She was the one responsible for leaking the information that lead to Yan's kidnapping. The people she was working for were able to put agents in place to kidnap her based on information that Kino provided.
I wish that were the worst of it. I wish that was the only thing that I needed to tell you.
I wish that I could spare you the pain of knowledge. It would be simple enough for me to tell you the official lie, at least until you returned to me, and I could tell you the truth in person.
But, if I were in your place, and I were offered the choice between the truth and a lie, I would choose the truth every time. So I won't lie to you, my Second.
The official story is that Yan, because of the trauma that she endured during captivity, killed herself. We have a body in cold storage, awaiting your return so that we can hold a funeral. Officially, Kino is replacing you as a liaison to the Fleet. She has already privately said her goodbyes to Yan and is trading places with you so that you can return to mourn. But, as we have already established, there is no Kino, and there is no Yan, either.
When we learned of Kino's betrayal, she was taken into custody. You understand that she was going to be quietly killed. A coverup would have been created, and life would have gone on.
Only God and Yan herself know why she did what she did. Yan broke into the holding facility, took Kino, and stole the First Star.
She shouldn't have been able to escape. It was my own weakness, and that of Halen, that allowed it. I can admit my mistakes to you. I can admit that we both cared too much. We were blinded by our care to both the truth of Kino, and the way that Yan was going to act.
She's currently somewhere out in the universe. We don't have any indication of her plans, but we must consider her dangerous. You already understand that Kino is a danger, and since she is with Yan, or was, we must assume the worst. I don't think that she will come after you, but if you see the First Star, you should destroy it. If you see Yan, or Kino, or Sylva Calor, or Iri Maedes, you should kill them, or escape if that is impossible.
I can't lose you, too, Sid.
Come home.
All of this is for your eyes only. Your liaison, Lt. Cesper, knows, but other than that, you are the sole carrier of this information. There are official orders inside this data package, for both the Gatekeeper and the Pride of Lonn. You will be taking the Pride of Lonn home. Distribute the orders as normal; I simply wanted to give you ac chance to hear the real story before the orders were given, as they may have made little sense to you without this context.
I pray to God that you, at least, are well and whole and sound. It is a fifteenday before this letter reaches you, and a thirtyday before I will see you again. I know that much can happen in that time, and it pains me to be out of contact with you for so long, with such trouble brewing.
You will have a difficult mantle to take up when you return, my Second. This could spiral further than you our I could ever anticipate. I will pray and keep watch that it does not, but it will be on your shoulders and mine to keep the galaxy turning about its center, and the Empire complete and thriving.
You understand all of this, and much more besides.
Godspeed you during your return.
Yours in faith,
Aymon Sandreas
"You knew all of this?" Sid asked, feeling as though all of the blood had drained out of his head and pooled somewhere down in his feet, cold as ice.
"Yes," Ervantes said, still standing. "I'm so sorry, Sid."
He wasn't going to cry. He was above that. He felt that cold ice settle around his heart, crawl across his scalp. Even Ervantes's presence couldn't stop the alternating waves of rage, and pain, and fear that swept across him. He was frozen to his seat, unable to move, unable to process anything beyond the surface thoughts.
Kino had betrayed him.
Yan had betrayed him. Yan, who was his closest friend. Yan, who had killed pirates for him. Yan, who had been through a nightmare and come out the other side because of Kino. Yan, who had held his hand, and been in his mind. Yan, who had come back from the dead, only to be dead once again.
He felt like he was choking on his own tongue.
"I'm sorry," Ervantes said again. "I know you were very close to them."
Something snapped in Sid's brain. He laughed, and it was an ugly feeling, rising involuntarily up from his lungs. "Yes. Yes we were."
"Are you okay?"
"Do I look like I'm okay?"
"You look a little pale."
Sid laughed again. "If I see them, I'm going to kill them."
"Is that what First Sandreas told you to do?"
Sid showed the letter to Ervantes, who read it without speaking, then turned Sid's computer back around. "Does that change the way you look at me, Ervantes?" Sid asked.
"For you to be Second?" he asked.
"For me to be the only one who, for some reason, doesn't want to betray the Empire," Sid said.
"I was never as close with the others as I was to you," Ervantes said, very tactfully.
"Did Kino poison Yan's mind on the trip back to Emerri? Is that what happened?"
"You only read the letter, right?"
Sid nodded.
"And you read the report on what happened to Yan, while she was down on that planet?"
"Yes."
"In that data package, there is a writeup of what happened on Emerri that day. I wasn't around to witness it; First Sandreas summoned me back later, so that I could deliver this to you. But you may be interested in looking at what happened in the Emperor's chambers, and what happened when Yan took Kino."
"Why? I already know what the result was."
"It might give you some clarity. You were closer to Yan than anyone else, I'm led to believe. You might be able to understand it better."
Sid slapped the table. "Why should I want to understand?" he asked. He could tell his voice was just a little too loud, because it made his throat hurt, but Ervantes didn't flinch back-- he was too professional for that.
"You'll have plenty of time to think on the trip back," Ervantes said. "You don't have to look now, but you probably will eventually."
"We're leaving right now?"
"As soon as all the supplies are moved over between the ships," Ervantes said. "You have time to pack, and say goodbye to Captain Baczynski, and anybody else."
"There isn't really anybody," Sid said. "I think I liked the Impulse better." Some of the tension left him, as he focused in on the practical matter of closing his computer, standing, thinking about packing his room.
"I'll have to tell Captain Wen that you said that."
"The man will be insufferable once he learns about this," Sid said.
"I know a little bit about information security," Ervantes said. "He might not find out unless you tell him. I'd advise you keep your mouth shut."
"I will."
"I'm glad that you're willing to take my unsolicited advice, Second Welslak."
"Please, don't."
"I'll be the only one who calls you that," Ervantes said. "For now. You'll have some time to get used to it before any announcement is made."
"Like you said, I'll have plenty of time to think on the trip back. You're coming with me, right?"
"Yes. First Sandreas thought that it would be best to have someone you were comfortable with deliver the bad news."
"I'm sure it was Halen's idea," Sid said under his breath.
"Perhaps. I will help you pack your room up, if you would like help."
"Thanks."
It was a very long trip back to Emerri. Sid didn't socialize much with the crew of the Pride of Lonn. He stayed in his room, or with Ervantes, and as Ervantes had said he might, he went over and over and over the security footage. He hadn't even known that the Emperor would have cameras in the receiving hall, but perhaps the Emperor simply liked to retain meeting records for posterity, without the hassle of having to remember everything.
He could only experience half of the conversation, of course. The Emperor spoke internally, and though Yan and Kino spoke aloud, it was as though he was watching someone have an odd telephone conversation. The recording showed all of Yan's meeting with the Emperor, and the way that she stood in the corner while Kino came in. Sid could tell when the Emperor was speaking, or doing something in her mind, because she had this visible, but clearly unconscious flinch. It was like a forward flinch, though, as though her tall body was leaning forward, towards the Emperor, hungry for something. Desperate.
Sid watched for that moment over and over, clicking back a few seconds on the recording, watching Yan close her eyes and lean in. He was sure that she hadn't known she was doing it. He didn't know how it made him feel, to watch her. It certainly made him feel something.
And then he saw Kino, standing illuminated as if by God's own fire, choking, held in place. He saw the stiff movement of Yan, clearly being forced by the Emperor to move, and the way her face looked as she almost, killed Kino. She was close to it, closer than he had expected, but then she broke loose from the spell, tumbled to the ground, and ran away.
He didn't know how she had done that. How had she done that?
It had always felt so impossible to get out of a hold in the power, from that first time that Halen had casually demonstrated it on the first day of their apprenticeship, to the time that Aymon had held him down. He didn't know how Yan could manage to resist the whole force of the Emperor, who was overwhelming in the extreme. Especially considering that soft and desperate way that she leaned towards that power, as if she wanted to be held by it.
He thought about that a lot.
He also thought a lot about the way that Halen's hands were covered in blood, and the way that Kino looked, lying alone on a table in a dark room, and the look on her face when an invisible Yan swept in and removed her.
Ervantes had been right that he would watch, but he was wrong when he said that Sid would understand. There was nothing that Sid understood about any of it, no matter how many times he replayed the footage, no matter how intensely he studied the looks on Yan's face, no matter how many time he compared written reports and his own knowledge to the events.
He didn't understand, and he couldn't reconcile it, so he felt unbearably betrayed, still. He grew hard and angry, and his resolve to kill them did not go away. It simply lodged in the back of his mind, though there was a quieter thought that lived there as well, hoping that he would never see Yan again, so that he would never have to make the choice to kill her. She hadn't made the choice to kill Kino.
He had to wonder, would she have made the same choice for him?
What would she have done if it was him in Kino's place, on that table?
What would he have done if it was her?
It was all such a confusing tangle, and Ervantes was endlessly patient with him as he paced back and forth and verbally tried to work it all out. There were no answers, and Ervantes couldn't provide any insights from looking at the footage, either. That was partially because where Sid had an endless stomach for it, Ervantes said that he didn't like to see it. Didn't like blood, or something, Sid thought.
It was upsetting, but Sid tried to be clinical about it.
He was glad to be back with Ervantes, if nothing else.
It was a long trip.
Sandreas did not meet him at the elevator, and instead waited for Sid to make his way home to Stonecourt. It was lucky for Sandreas that Sid's arrival was in the middle of the day, and not an ungodly hour of the night. Sid was worn from the travel, but he made his way obediently to Sandreas's office, like a good little Second should. That was what he was, after all.
Sandreas's first words to him, when he opened the door to his office, were not what he expected.
"You grew your hair," Sandreas said, looking rather surprised, and closing the door to his office behind him.
Sid rubbed the top of his head, where fifteen days' worth of growth was coming in, softer and darker than he had ever remembered it being. That might just be because he had been shaving his head for so long, he didn't really remember what it had used to be like.
He had started to grow his hair because every time he thought about his tattoos, he thought about Yan, and he didn't like that. He was glad that he didn't have to explain that to Sandreas, though, because Sandreas spoke again without waiting for Sid to reply.
"Please, have a seat, Sid," Sandreas said, gesturing to the couch. "I'm glad to have you back."
This was about as warm of a welcome as Sid was going to get, so he took it, sitting on the familiar couch, being forcefully reminded of all of the times he had sat here with Yan and Kino beside him.
"How are you doing?" Sandreas asked, sitting down across from him. Halen was nowhere in sight, perhaps he was busy elsewhere. Sid didn't mind his absence, because he wasn't sure how he would feel seeing the man, after watching him dissect Kino over and over on the video.
"Bad," Sid admitted. "But I'm here, so that's better than it could be."
"That is certainly true," Sandreas said. "I have to ask, Sid, you aren't thinking of betraying me, correct?" The words looked like a joke, but the look on Sandreas's face was mostly one of resignation.
"You can look in my head if you want," Sid said.
"Perhaps I will," Sandreas said. "But not now. Thank you for the offer."
"It was either I offer, or you drag me in front of the Emperor," Sid said. "I expect that you will do that, too."
"When the Emperor requests your presence," Sandreas said. "Which has not yet happened."
"I might take a trip down there of my own volition."
"Really?"
"I'm not scared," Sid said.
"It's not fear," Sandreas said. "But the Emperor will treat you like a Second, and that comes with it certain responsibilities."
"I really am, aren't I?"
"Not in the eyes of the world, but in mine," Sandreas said. "I wish that this--" He stopped. "Did I tell you what happened to the people who were apprentices with me?"
"They died," Sid said. "That's really all I know."
"Yes. They died." Sid could see the pain that etched itself into the lines around Sandreas's eyes. He hadn't really thought about how old Sandreas actually was, but he certainly wasn't young. He might be older than Sid's own father. Looking at Sandreas was a dark mirror.
He offered no further explanation. "I don't know if them dying was better or worse," Sandreas said. "I don't know if you can quantify pain like that."
"I don't know," Sid said. "I don't think it matters."
"The past is the past."
"Yan always said something like that."
"Did she?"
"Yeah. I'd see her mutter it to herself. Thought she was praying."
"Hah. I think she gave up on prayer."
There was a knife lodged in Sid's heart, and thinking about Yan twisted it. Perhaps Sandreas was right; it would have been better, less painful, if she simply had been dead. Even if she had killed herself. That at least would have been something that he could understand. It would have been a different kind of pain, but it wouldn't be a pain that he knew he would have to confront again.
There was a long pause in the conversation. Sid and Sandreas looked at each other, studying each other across the coffee table in between them. Sid didn't feel like he had changed much since he last saw Sandreas, aboard the Impulse, ever so briefly, but it had been a long, long time since they had been together in any meaningful way. Sid didn't know what that adjustment would be like, being back under Sandreas's thumb. He had gotten used to giving the orders.
"Are you ready for the funeral?"
"When is it?"
"Tomorrow."
"Are we holding it here, or aboard the Iron Dreams?" He hadn't seen the Dreams docked at Emerri station, but they could have been in orbit, or waiting to jump in.
"Her family requested it be held on planet," Sandreas said. "I have my guesses as to why."
"Which are?"
"I get the distinct impression that they know she is alive," Sandreas said.
"What makes you say that?"
"Spacers would want to give her a spacer burial. I talked to her family when she was kidnapped. They were adamant about the way they were going to do things then. For them to give her to me now-- it seems unlikely."
"Why wouldn't they want to have a funeral their way anyway?" Sid asked. "Wouldn't it look suspicious?"
"I think they are attempting to play along. Either that or they consider it sacrilegious to give a stranger a spacer funeral."
"Why would they go along with this?"
"Because if they don't, I might have to order them killed," Sandreas said. "And I don't think anyone wants that."
Sid suppressed a shiver. Sandreas's face was cold as he delivered those lines, so Sid didn't doubt for a second that he would follow through on the threat, should he have to.
"Do you think that Yan is going to stay in contact with her family?"
"I have no idea," Sandreas said. "If Yan was predictable, none of this would have happened."
Sid frowned, twisting his hands together. "Where did you get the body, by the way?"
"There are plenty of bodies given to various causes for one reason or another. They're kept in cold storage until they're needed. It was simple enough to acquire one with approximately the right build and other features, and the face could be altered as needed."
The whole thought was disgusting, but at least someone hadn't been deliberately murdered in order to provide a beautiful corpse.
"The service is closed casket, of course," Sandreas said. "We don't want to invite too much scrutiny from the press."
"Won't there be questions?"
"We allowed them a few well chosen photographs," Sandreas said.
Sid was silent again. He knew what he wanted to ask, but he wished that he could sign it to Sandreas. He could express himself so much more clearly in sign, with so much less hesitation.
"Do you really think that she is our enemy?"
"It doesn't matter what I think," Sandreas said.
"It does. You're the one who tells me what to do."
"I simply mean that we see her actions as they are. She stole my ship, Sid."
"Did you watch the footage, of when she was with the Emperor?"
"Of course." There was a twist on Sandreas's face. He had probably talked to the Emperor about it as well, and perhaps the Emperor had shown him other things besides what was on the video.
Sid wanted to ask about the way that Yan had leaned in, and about the way she had freed herself from the Emperor's power, but he realized that Sandreas probably was not as fixated on that tiny action as he was, and also that if Sandreas knew the answer to the second question, he was sure to find out eventually, during training.
"Do you think--" Sid began instead. "If I had been here, would this have happened?"
"I wish I could say no," Sandreas said. "But I don't know for sure."
"Should I feel guilty?"
"Do you feel guilty?"
"I feel angry."
"So do I."
That satisfied neither of them, but it was the truest thing that they could say. The wound was older, for Sandreas. He had had twice as long to process it, but the way his face twitched showed that he was barely controlling his feelings about it all.
"Welcome home, Sid," Sandreas said, finally. "And get some rest."
The funeral was a very sombre, very formal event. Sid had never been to anything like it before, since he was not the one who had gone to Vaneik's funeral, and he had never paid that much attention to televised state events before he became Sandreas's apprentice.
He had been given a new cassock for the occasion, and a new cape. It was jet black, with embroidery in black thread around all the edges. The service was taking place in Yora's largest temple, and he caught a glimpse of himself and Sandreas in the mirrored entrance hall. His buttons gleamed like silver stars, and the new growth of his hair startled him. Walking by Sandreas's side, they presented a unified front.
Yan's family was there, or some of it, anyway. There were no children seated in the rows, but he didn't know if that was to spare them the experience, or for some other reason. The only person he actually recognized from the Iron Dreams delegation was Yan's uncle, Maxes BarCarran, who sat stiffly next to a much shorter woman. All the Iron Dreams group looked similar, wearing nearly identical dark green suits, with all their hair done in tight braids with black beads. All of them even had similar faces, the ones who hadn't married into the BarCarran clan, anyway. He could see traces of Yan in them. It was discomforting.
Sid recognized other people in the temple, as well. It seemed like every master he had ever had at the Academy had turned up, as well as a fair share of students, from both his year and below. Had Yan really been that popular, or was this just people coming to gawk?
There was a delegation from the Trade Guild itself, as well. Sid recognized a few of the people he had met on Olar, and there was Yuuni Olms, and the murderer Nomar Thule, shooting each other glances from where they sat on opposite sides of the building. Sid made up his mind to ignore them unless he couldn't.
He and Sandreas had seats of honor, of course, on the other side of the aisle from Yan's family. He didn't see Halen around, but that didn't mean Halen wasn't around. He was probably better at blending into this crowd of half spacers than he would be at any other function.
Sid was nervous, leg jittering as he sat in the row. He knew that he would have to speak, and he hadn't spoken at a funeral since his grandmother had died eight years ago. This was bigger, and worse in a way, because the whole thing was a fraud.
Sandreas tugged on his elbow for them to rise as music started, though Sid couldn't hear it. He felt the throbbing of the notes as he rested his fingertips on the railing in front of him, and he saw the band playing. He could have listened to it, with the power, but he had no interest in that. He tried not to look stupid as he craned his neck to see the casket come in.
He was a little surprised to see that Halen was one of the pall bearers. He didn't recognize the others, though they looked like Yan's family members. It would have been awkward to not have all spacers holding the coffin, as the height difference between a spacer and a non-spacer would have made it awkward.
He wondered what the person who they were actually burying would be thinking. On one hand, it would be nice to have a fancy funeral. On the other hand, it would be pretty terrible to not be buried under the proper name, and not memorialized by the people who actually loved you. It was a little depressing to think about. But probably, since this body had been donated, their family had had a chance to have a funeral of their own, just with an empty box.
These were the thoughts going through his head. He felt rather detached, since he knew that Yan wasn't actually dead, and he was just here to play a role. But that detachment was just a layer that was keeping him away from his true, miserable feelings.
The pall bearers set the coffin down, and the cantor, one Sid vaguely recognized from the Academy, stepped around to the front.
"Lord of all creation, we come before you with the soul of Yan BarCarran..."
Sid couldn't help but remember that time that he and Yan sat on her bed, miserable beyond belief, saying the words of the funeral service for pirates. Something in his thoughts must have leaked through to Sandreas beside him, because he squeezed Sid's arm comfortingly for a second, then released it.
The prayer part of the service was relatively short, but the memorializing part was sure to be long.
Yan's uncle Maxes spoke first, standing behind the closed casket, carefully not looking down at it as he spoke.
"Yan was a daughter to me," Maxes said. "Yan was the world to me. I would have moved the stars for her if I could.
"From the minute she was born, I knew she was destined to do great things." The way that Maxes's eyes shone, scanning the crowd, it put a shiver in Sid's spine. He knew. He knew that Yan was alive. Sid couldn't help but think that this was a veiled threat, some sort of message. But he wouldn't be that stupid. He couldn't say that, not now. He couldn't be risking his whole family's life for this. Sid's heart was beating too fast, Aymon held his arm again.
"Calm down," Aymon sent through the power.
Sid took a couple deep breaths.
"Good," Aymon said. "Look sad. Don't look like you're having a panic attack."
Sid hadn't realized how much he was shaking. He had slightly tuned out Maxes's speech, but he returned to paying attention.
"God has taken her to a better place. A place where she'll never hurt again. That's what keeps me here," Maxes said. "Yan, I love you. I will never stop loving you, no matter where you've gone."
He nodded and left the podium, sitting back down with the rest of Yan's family. Then it was Sandreas's turn.
"I think that death has always hung over Yan like a cloud," Sandreas began, after adjusting the microphone to better reach his face. He was much shorter than Maxes BarCarran was. It was an odd opening line, but this was an odd funeral.
"The first time I met Yan was the day when I was interviewing candidates for my apprenticeship. I had saved hers for last, because her project had intrigued me so much. She had created this little fish, this automaton, and it was so perfect and beautiful. Anyone who saw it would have been fooled by it, to think it was alive.
"I could tell, right away, when I looked at it, that I liked the person who made it. It had this humor about it. I could tell that there was a joke in there: 'It's not alive, but...' There were so many things that could have fit into the end of that joke.
"That which is not living can never die.
"Yan was alive. And to be alive is to face the certainty of dying.
"When I interviewed her, she let me into her mind, and she showed me the worst day of her life: the day that her mother died. I believe it was an accident, but it has stuck with me, ever since, and it will probably never leave my mind.
"She was so young, and so strong, and she kept herself through even the most horrible pain that I can imagine.
"I loved Yan. I won't pretend like I knew her longer than any of you," he said, looking out over Yan's family. "But I loved her in the short time I had with her.
"Yan kept the pain of life and the fear of death at bay by always, always seeking a connection out with the people around her. She wanted to give of herself, and receive in turn. She had this beautiful trust in others, a trust that most of us can't imagine. I envied that about her.
"I know that with God, she will be one with the universe, and that is all she ever sought. It might be a small comfort, but it is a comfort nonetheless.
"Thank you, Yan, for being my apprentice. I wish I could have taken away the pain of it just a little bit more. I wish you were still here. Godspeed."
Sandreas came and sat back down next to Sid, and there was a momentary pause before another one of Yan's family members stood up and made his way over to the podium.
"How did I do?" Sandreas asked in the power, his arm brushing Sid's.
"Codes upon codes," Sid said.
"That's the way it is. This is a farce."
"It's the only mourning some of these people will ever get."
"Most of them don't care about her."
"The Academy people do." Sid could see actual tears glistening in the eyes of Master Farber, whom he had taken exactly one class with.
"You're next."
"I wasn't aware that there was a schedule."
"We're trying to keep this alternating between Yan's family and the rest of us. As soon as Captain Pellon sits down, you're going."
Oh, so that's who was speaking at the moment. Sid wasn't paying attention. At least Yan's family were all good actors. Decent, at least. And the slight lack of tears, the camera crews could chalk that up to spacers being weird. No one on planets knew the first thing about spacers. Sid certainly hadn't, not before he had met Yan, anyway.
Pellon sat. Sid stood, suddenly very, very nervous. He had plenty of time, fifteen days, to think of the way he wanted to deliver this eulogy. The key was that he didn't want to deliver it, but he had to. He felt like his legs were about to collapse out from under him as he made his way up towards the casket. He wished the thing were open, even though he knew there was nothing but a half destroyed stranger's corpse inside. It would have been nice to feel like he was addressing someone.
He wondered if Yan would find a recording of this and watch. On one hand, she wasn't really self obsessed. But on the other, Sid wouldn't be surprised if she sought out this specifically just to hear people that she had abandoned tell her that they loved her, one last time, even though it was a lie. Either that, or morbid curiosity. If Sid was in her place, he would have definitely fallen for the morbid curiosity.
"You were always the best of us, Yan," Sid said. It was odd how at some funerals, everyone addressed the corpse, and at others, they addressed the crowd. This, like everything else about this sham, muddled the waters about what a funeral was supposed to be.
"You were never abrasive or cruel. You were never too shy. You never shied away from doing what needed to be done, either. Whatever you set your mind to, you did. You had this clarity of purpose that I always liked about you. You spoke to me in my native language. You treated me like a friend, even when I had done nothing to deserve it. You were with me on the worst day of my life, and you got me through it."
Actually, Sid was tearing up. He blinked, coughed, trying to get the lump out of his throat.
"I wish to God--" He coughed again, decided it wasn't worth it, and switched to sign. If the spacers in the crowd were as fluent in it as Yan was, they probably wouldn't have had much trouble picking up what he was saying, but Sid remembered that Yan had spent a whole summer practicing conversational sign just so that she could talk to him. He actually had tears coming out of his eyes now.
"I wish to God," he signed, "that I had been able to be there for you on the worst day of yours.
"I always thought you were going to be the one. But now you're gone, and it's just me. I wish I didn't have to do this without you. I wish. God. I wish."
Even in sign, the words weren't coming easily.
"I'm so angry at you, Yan." He hadn't ever had occasion to come up with a namesign for her before. Her name was so quick, he usually just fingerspelled it while talking to Hernan, and when he talked to her, he never needed to use her name. So this was the first time he used it, and he had put some thought into it. He made the Y with both hands, then linked his pinky fingers together over his heart. It wasn't a joke sign, like he used for his brother and sister-- it was serious.
"I'm so angry that you've left me alone. I keep asking how you could have abandoned me, and I don't know the answer. I'll never know. I don't understand, and I'll never understand. Maybe someday I-- I--." He stopped.
"Goodbye, Yan. Until we meet again."
