Loki, Parnassus, Year 28 (Winter)

It was quite remarkable how much rubbish a person could accumulate in a lifetime. Or even in nearly forty years in space. But there came a time where some things had to go; Tony was dead, and the personal objects that had meant something to him were now reduced to meaningless pieces of junk. Maya had to make room for the new occupants of the house.

She had grieved -- God, how she had grieved! -- but Maya realised it was time to move on and start building a new life without the man she loved. Tony had been dead three months, and Salvatore was moving up to Alpha, so she had decided to move into the upper part of the house and leave the rest to Karim Habibi and his family. Karim was Tony's successor as Chief Administrator of Dover, so it seemed reasonable to let him have the run of the 'Governor's Mansion' -- particularly as he and his wife Helena had five children to fill it with.

The upper part of the 'mansion' on Parnassus would make an adequate apartment for an old lady, Maya had decided. She hadn't aged the way her human colleagues had -- she was probably very much younger, in fact, though there was no frame of reference to calculate her age. But she felt old; her hair, which she now kept short, was streaked with even stripes of grey that further enhanced her alien appearance. She was by no means fat, but she had put on weight and her reproductive cycle had stopped abruptly two years earlier. Whenever she looked into a mirror, she saw her grandmother.

Maya thought she wouldn't need much space to live alone. Just her laboratory and a kitchen to eat in, a room for herself and a spare room for Salvatore when he came to visit. Chris Vincent had already started work to transform one of the existing rooms into a kitchen/living-room and he was then going to arrange separate access to the Dover complex. That would probably take a few months, during which Maya would be all but living with the Habibis. She wasn't worried about that; she got on well with Helena, who had inherited her parents Ben and Kate's sunny disposition. Karim was a quiet, serious man who always treated Maya with great reverence, so she could trust him to stay out of her way. The only thing Maya was concerned about was that all the Habibi children were very young, spanning from 7-year-old Sophie to 2-year-old Trevor. Maya shuddered to think another one might be on the way -- the fertility of human beings was sometimes terrifying. Still, she couldn't begrudge a family that had named one son Antonio and a daughter Maya.

Standing on a stool in the master bedroom, Maya was inspecting the top part of Tony's cupboard and wasn't particularly surprised to find more rubbish up there. A strange sculpture Salvatore had made when he was about five; a broken tennis racket Tony had always been meaning to repair even though he didn't play tennis; his original Alphan uniform, its fragile artificial fabric preserved in a plastic bag which had grown brittle with time. And at the back of the shelf, a leather suitcase which Tony had always taken with him wherever he went, though Maya had never found out what it contained.

Maya pulled the suitcase off the shelf and sneezed as a shower of dust followed it. It was very heavy, and she had to manoeuvre it carefully to get it off the shelf and herself off the stool without them all falling into a heap on the floor.

She laid the suitcase on the floor and, after some amount of fiddling with its unfamiliar buckles, opened it. The reason for its heaviness became immediately apparent: it was full of papers. Photographs, magazines, newspapers, Tony's LSRO employment contract, old payslips, even a copy of his birth certificate and his Italian passport -- the whole of Tony's life documented in one suitcase. That thought made her smile and she ran her fingers over the frayed leather covering which had once lived on an Earth animal.

There were some photographs of his family on Earth, including a picture she had seen before, of Tony and his brother Guido sitting on a beach. Given dark brown streaks on his face, Tony in this picture could just as well have been Salvatore. There were only a few pictures of Maya in the suitcase, since Maya was the one who had most of the photographs they had taken after they became involved. One of the pictures was Maya's identity photo from the computer, the first one they had taken of her after she joined the Alphans; Tony had presumably printed it out when he first became interested in her.

In an envelope, she found some snapshots she had forgotten about, pictures of her when she was pregnant. Judging from the relatively sane expression on her face, Maya guessed that the pictures were taken when she was expecting Angelo. Others were taken earlier, after their wedding. Maya thought some of the pictures in the envelope were a bit more risqué than anything she'd like Salvatore to find when she died, and she was in half a mind to burn them. But she decided Salvatore could deal with that when the time came; it wasn't as if she had any intention of dying any time soon. It was rather flattering to remember she had once been young and attractive enough for pictures of her to be risqué.

She buried the envelope back at the bottom of the suitcase, and turned her attention to one of the magazines. It bore the title 'L'Espresso' on the front cover, most of which was taken up by an illustration about a referendum in Italy, although it also bore a small photograph of five Alphans with the caption 'Italiani sulla luna'. Closer inspection revealed that one of the Alphans on the picture was Tony, so Maya quickly flicked through the magazine to see if there was anymore about him. A strange smell escaped from the pages and they stuck to her fingers as she turned them.

There was quite a long article about the Italians on Moonbase Alpha. Having lived thirty-five years with an Italian, Maya knew enough of the language to read it, so she sat back on the floor to see what, if anything, the article had to say about Tony. Most of it focussed on Tony Cellini, whom Maya remembered had been a close friend of John Koenig's. He was evidently the shining light of the Italian astronaut programme at the time, and the article went on at some length about his unfair dismissal following some failed mission. Maya ignored that bit, her eyes skimming through the text for any mention of her Tony. There were short articles about some of the other Italians on Alpha, including Melita Kelly, Dan Mateo, Luca Ferro and, finally, Tony himself. Maya was just about to read that bit when she heard the front door open and realised Salvatore was back. He had gone over to see Michael Osgood; the two of them were going to move to Alpha in a few weeks' time.

"I'm in the bedroom, angel," she called out loudly. She knew he could hear her, since the bottom door, which led onto one of Dover's corridors, was right next to the master bedroom.

The bedroom door creaked open and Salvatore peeked his head into the room. "Hello," he said simply.

Maya held up the magazine and compared the picture of Tony with her son standing in the doorway. With his fashionably short hair and immature thin face, Salvatore wasn't quite a dead ringer for his father, but comparing the two, there could be no doubt they were father and son. It had always given Maya great satisfaction to see that Salvatore had, on the whole, inherited his father's looks. It meant he would be a handsome young man some day and that he looked relatively 'normal', albeit with dark streaks on his cheeks.

"Hmm, yes, definitely a family resemblance," she said, putting the magazine down again.

Apparently encouraged by her welcome, Salvatore grinned and came into the room. Maya sometimes felt that her son had grown up in the few months since Tony's death. While she was simply growing old, Salvatore was turning into a young man. The 'handsome' bit wasn't quite there yet; Salvatore was still an awkward teenager, and Maya was of the opinion he would look a lot better with longer hair. His current crew cut just made his narrow face look narrower. No wonder the poor boy thought he looked like a ferret.

Salvatore sat down beside Maya and peered at the picture of Tony.

"Oh boy! Yes, I see what you mean," he laughed. "I keep forgetting he didn't have a beard back in those days. And his hair was black, too."

"Of course, you never knew him when he looked like that. He grew the beard just after we got married, and his hair was already going grey then."

Salvatore had taken the magazine and was observing the small picture with interest. "Wow! It's difficult to believe Babbo was ever that young," he said, shaking his head incredulously as he handed the magazine back to Maya. "How old was he?"

Marking the page with her thumb, Maya closed the magazine to look at the date on the front. "Gennaio Nineteen-Ninety-Nine," she read.

"Millenovecentonovantotto," corrected Salvatore.

Maya just shrugged her shoulders. "He was thirty-two. It was just a few months before Breakaway."

Salvatore took the magazine again and looked through it, his expression serious. He brought the pages up to his nose, sniffing the odour of the printing inks, and then observed how his fingers adhered to the glossy cover. Maya watched him, taking pleasure in the fact she could still see him, before he left her to start his own life on Alpha. He seemed troubled, his brown eyes sorrowful in some strange way. She wondered if he was thinking about Tony.

"What's wrong, angel?"

Salvatore half shrugged and turned the pages back to the article about Italians on Alpha. "I don't know... it's strange to read this thing and think it was printed on Earth, to be read by Earth people. And yet it's here, on the other side of the galaxy, being read by me. By the half-alien son of a human being who was never meant to be here in the first place. Who was born to live on Earth and live his little life, reading magazines like this one. But instead a twist of fate led him to live and die out here. That's pretty weird when you think about it."

Maya smiled as it occurred to her she wasn't the only strange one in their family. Salvatore sometimes seemed to see the world in a different light. She stroked his cheek and ran her fingers over his bristly dark hair as she used to when he was a child. Except that when he was a child, he had longer hair.

"You should let your hair grow," she said thoughtfully. "I thought it was nicer when it was long. It curled so beautifully."

Salvatore lifted his eyebrows comically, as Tony used to, and sighed. "I'm talking metaphysics, and all you can think of is that I should let my hair grow?" he said with a grin. "Anyway, Babbo always had very short hair. He used to trim it short like his beard."

"He had some kind of prejudice against curly hair," she explained. "I could never understand it, but he was always obsessed with stopping his hair from curling. When he had it that long," she pointed at the picture, "he'd spend ages setting it to make it straight. Then he eventually got tired of that and just cut it very short. I think he was afraid it was going to go frizzy like Bill's."

"Bill?"

"Bill Fraser."

"Oh him," said Salvatore. Maya realised that people like Bill Fraser meant very little to him. Bill had been to Dover on occasion, but not often enough or long enough to make an impression on Salvatore.

"I should come up to Alpha with you and introduce you to some of my old friends there. While they're still alive to be introduced, that is," she said neutrally. It seemed logical that she should make sure her son met all the people who had once meant something to her and Tony. Time was running out; soon, the only people left would be Salvatore's contemporaries.

Salvatore nodded. "I think I know the names of most of the people you used to know, but I can't always put faces on them. Not beyond the official pictures of you all back in the wandering years. What else is there in this thing?"

"Lots of photographs." Maya cast a quick glance into the suitcase to make sure the envelope she had discovered earlier wasn't in evidence. "Look at this one," she said, taking out the photograph of Tony and Guido. "Babbo and his brother. You looked just like that when you were a child."

"With extra stripes," said Salvatore with a grin. His expression became more serious. "That's another strange thing. You know, what I was saying earlier about it being weird that you and Babbo came halfway across the universe and ended up here. The chances of you meeting and falling in love were remote, and the chances of you having me as well must be infinitesimal." Maya wondered vaguely how a word like 'infinitesimal' had found its way into Salvatore's vocabulary. "When I think about it, I'm the weirdest part of it all," concluded Salvatore.

"I wouldn't call you that, angel. You're the best part of it." Even though he was nearly sixteen, almost a grown man, Maya wrapped her arms around her son and gave him a kiss. He tried to pull away, but then gave up and leaned against her. "I'm going to miss you, angel."

His head on her shoulder, Salvatore frowned and looked at her intently. "Are you going to be all right on your own?"

"Oh yes," she said, nodding confidently. "You know Helena will take good care of me. She has her father's caring touch. Oh, baby, I need to get up. I'm too old to sit on the floor."

Salvatore helped her up and they both sat down on the bed. He hesitated, frowning again, and then said, "I just... worry about you. I mean, going to Alpha is a good thing for me. I... since Babbo died, I've felt this weird desire to just go and do something else. Maybe it's a way of coping, or maybe I feel I have to grow up and take his place in some way. And I think I can be a useful person if I learn about communications; I have to learn a job some day. I don't want to be a farmer and I think I need to know a few more things before I can be an administrator or something. Besides, I've always lived at Dover. It's time I saw what was going on elsewhere, since there's an elsewhere to go. With Winter here, I might as well lock myself up on Alpha as here at Dover. And I think communications will be a good area to study... So it's a good idea to go up there. But I worry about leaving you here alone. Maybe I should stay."

Maya shook her head. "What are you afraid of, angel? Nothing is going to happen to me." She continued as a thought suddenly occurred to her. "I'm not planning on pining away and dying, you know, if that's what you're worried about. I'm not selfish like Michelle Osgood, who couldn't even be bothered to live for those poor children of hers. I have... I have sometimes wished I could be with Tony now, wherever he is, but I know it is so much more important for me to be here with you. Besides, I'm definitely planning on being around to see my grandchildren," she added with a smile.

That was something to look forward to. Dr Halima Vincent was of the opinion that Salvatore would be able to have children, though the matter hadn't been thoroughly investigated yet. The boy was still too young to worry about things like that, and Maya was praying he would never have to go through all the pain she and Tony had gone through.

"Oh, I see it now," said Salvatore with a chuckle. "You're going to turn up on my doorstep every couple of months, criticise all my girlfriends, and ask me if I'm eating well and when I'm going to find a nice girl and settle down."

Maya laughed. "Well, I did live with an Italian for over thirty years. What do you expect?"

"It's a universal obsession these days, anyway," said Salvatore with a shrug. He lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "So I suppose I'll have to follow suit some day."

"Salvatore, don't just marry some girl and have children because you think that's what I want," said Maya gravely. "You know what happened to Blake Collins. He was a sweet fellow, but he decided to marry Layla the minute they could and they were the worst matched couple I've ever seen. The next thing we knew, he had broken her arm in some argument. So take your time and look for the right person."

"How will I know that?"

Leaning on one arm, Maya stared dreamily into the distance. "Oh, when you meet the right person, it soon becomes obvious."

"Was it like that with you and Babbo?"

"Yes. He wasn't very nice to me when I came aboard, but within a couple of months, he knew... and I did too."

Salvatore sat up again, his expression pensive. "How did you know it wasn't just infatuation? That you didn't just fancy him? I suppose Babbo would have known because he had already had girlfriends, so he had some means of comparison. But you'd never met anyone. You'd never had any boyfriends, so how could you tell Babbo was the one?"

Maya could see his point. Young and innocent as she had been in those days, it was logical to assume that she could have mistaken lust for love, but she knew that wasn't the case. Despite their ups and downs, the last thirty-five years had been a testament to her accurate assessment of her feelings for Tony.

"Maybe things work differently for Psychons," she said gently. "There was never anyone else for me. He was my world, my salvation, and I can only hope you'll be lucky enough to meet someone you'll love as completely as I loved him."

Apparently embarrassed by this revelation, Salvatore lowered his eyes and picked at his drainpipe trousers. "Well, we'll see. I'm happy to let everyone populate the place while I'm waiting."

"Oh, they're doing a fine job," Maya assured him. "I hear Becky is expecting her first child. She's only been married a couple of months. But at least she didn't marry at eighteen like most of the other girls; twenty-two is more reasonable."

Maya could have sworn Salvatore did a double take. Observing him more closely, she decided he definitely looked very guilty. "Are you all right, angel?" Salvatore nodded vigorously, his face displaying studied indifference. "Is there something you want to tell me?" insisted his mother. "You seem upset."

"I suppose it's Jorge's..." he started, still not looking at her.

Immediately taking the hint of Salvatore's hesitant declaration, Maya felt her jaw literally drop. "Salvatore! But... but she's years older than you!"

All Salvatore did was shrug his shoulders, staring at her apologetically. He was clearly afraid of Maya's reaction and no doubt regretting the reluctant revelation. Maya was too shocked to say anything for a while. The very thought of her little boy, her own precious son, doing... things with that woman Becky...

"I can't believe that woman," said Maya, shaking her head incredulously. "She spent all her teenage years trying to get into your father's bed and then the minute he's dead... That's... that's disgusting."

Maya was so annoyed she had to get up. Although Maya had never been particularly jealous of Tony, and she had always trusted him not to do anything rash, Becky Collins had been a great source of irritation to the Verdeschis a few years back, when she was in her teens. The girl had been apprenticed to Tony's assistant Kate and had apparently made a couple of blatant passes at him, until she lost interest and started going out with a boy her age.

Having taken a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, Maya turned back to look at her son. Salvatore's eyes were downcast, but she noticed a half smile on his lips.

"What's so funny?" she challenged.

"It was rather disgusting," he said with a chuckle, though his expression became serious again when he looked up and saw his mother's severe demeanour. Salvatore stood up and, apparently undaunted by her forbidding expression, put his arms around her. "Maya... I'm sorry. It just happened."

"You don't seem very surprised to hear she was after your father," said Maya, unresponsive to his embrace.

"No, she told me," he informed her casually. "It was... not the cleverest thing I ever did. But I'm really sorry. I was rather hoping you wouldn't find out."

"Hmm." Maya could certainly imagine that. The whole thing had rattled her a lot more than she would have expected. She had been prepared to consider the idea of Salvatore having children, but the idea of him actually sleeping with a woman -- that woman in particular -- was proving more difficult to come to terms with.

"You're too young..." she started, before interrupting herself with a sigh. Salvatore was looking at her expectantly. "If that child has stripes on its cheeks, I'm going to kill you Salvatore Mentor Verdeschi!"

Visibly relieved, Salvatore grinned sheepishly. "I'll try to behave in future."

Maya wondered if she was letting him off too lightly. By the time she had thought all this over for a couple of days, she would probably be wishing she had killed Salvatore right now.

"Good," she said dubiously, releasing him. "Don't let those Alphan girls lead you astray... Speaking of Alpha, what did Michael say about accommodation?"

"He's managed to arrange a flat for us in the old section," said Salvatore, perfectly relaxed now the conversation was off Becky Martinez. "So we'll be moving in there when we go up. Section 10, I think, if that rings a bell."

"That was where the technicians all lived," said Maya. Although she hadn't lived on Alpha for over ten years, she had a precise memory of the old base. "Those quarters were very small, but they had two bedrooms, so they were usually shared by lower grade workers."

"Sounds good for Mike and me," said Salvatore with a shrug. "We'll certainly be bottom of the career heap, just another couple of apprentices in the big city. I was actually surprised he managed to get us quarters together. I thought Alpha was always overpopulated."

"It used to be, but I think they've sorted that problem out by now." Maya sat down on the stool she had used to look into the wardrobe earlier. Her mind kept coming back to the fact her little boy had slept with Becky Martinez. She firmly dismissed the thought again and tried to talk about something less upsetting. "Are you looking forward to moving there?"

"Yes," he said with a grin. "I'm sure Mike and I will have fun. I'm looking forward to seeing how things turn out."

Maya smiled indulgently and held out her arms. He was her precious son, regardless of what he had done and even though he should have had better taste than to go after Becky of all people. Salvatore obediently took a step forward to allow her to kiss him on the cheek. Maya was also looking forward to seeing how things turned out. Although she knew she still had a few decades to live, Maya felt that her own life was over in some way. She had fallen in love and married, had a child, and helped her adoptive community to build a new future for itself in a new world. But that future now belonged to young people like Salvatore.