Habits Habits Breakaway + 10 ½ years
Betty walked to her work station in the data storage section of Alpha with a slightly distracted air. She had little to do with the Command Staff unless they specifically requested her to retrieve some unusual fact or historical reference, and those occasions were rare indeed. Sandra Benes was unusually good in getting Computer to reveal information others wouldn’t know how to find, and she usually took care of any data requests from Commander Koenig’s team. Betty blinked. She had reached her destination without realizing it. Oh dear, she thought, I hope I haven’t been rude to anyone on the walk here. Absent mindedly engaging her commlock, she entered the small workspace as the lights automatically came on at her preferred low level of illumination. She felt safe in her dim, nurturing, womb-like domain with knowledge literally steeped into the very walls. Her few books were here too, on the bookshelf above her desk. She smiled at them fondly. They were her oldest and dearest friends. As she looked about, she fancied it felt rather like one of the old medieval monasteries were monks used to copy illuminated books. For all that she never intended to stay on Alpha longer than the three months her research had called for, she had to honestly admit that her life here was not all that different from that she had led on Earth. She had led a contemplative life there as here, only now she had also assumed the unofficial role of archivist documenting as much of their wanderings as she could.
She again looked down at the message that had appeared on her commlock screen this morning: Please contact Sandra Benes or Alan Carter at your convenience. Well, fretting about this would do no one any good. As she had a working familiarity with Sandra and none whatsoever with any of the pilots, she would place a call to the data analyst in a short while. She sat down at her desk and pulled out a small padded cushion she kept in the lowest drawer along with the several other items of import. She placed the cushion on the floor and knelt below a small framed picture. She cleared her mind and prepared to perform the sincerely held ritual she had preformed every morning for the last twenty-five years, excepting only those first few months after Breakaway. If anyone had been so rude as to enter without permission just then, he would have seen kneeling on the floor a brown-haired, brown-eyed woman of almost sixty years. And although of average height, weight and health, Betty McCandless was anything but average. She was a Roman Catholic nun.
Sandra was sitting at her console observing routine programs assess the status of Alpha while idly listening to Tony and Maya banter behind her. The Commander’s laughter was good to hear. The mornings they did not go back and forth about the absurdities of parenthood were the days one of the children were ill, or when the Command Staff was dealing with one of the innumerable crises, large and small, that arose on Alpha. Today, the talk was about the several hour hunt Tony had made last night searching for Lysee’s small stuffed animal. Sandra knew she would get pulled into it soon enough. Alan had accidentally left the toy behind in an Eagle when he and a few others had taken a group of children on a brief flight to instruct them on routine procedures and safety measures. And as Alan was not here to take the brunt of Tony’s jibing, Sandra was the next best victim. She smiled to herself. Years ago, she would have felt awkward with such informality on duty, now she enjoyed it in her own way.
“… and then Lysee finally volunteers that Uncle Alan had used the silly thing as a demonstration of how things float when gravity is absent, and it ended up stuck in the air recycling in-flow duct when no one was looking. It took four hours to finally find it, with Lysee crying the entire time.” Tony shook his head in rueful memory. He couldn’t stand it when one of the girls cried.
“Alan or the maintenance team would have found it at the next scheduled overall, which is in five days for that Eagle,” Sandra volunteered peaceably enough.
“Yeah, five days of no sleep. I was about to scramble extra security teams to find the damn thing!” Tony exclaimed with all apparent seriousness as he spun around in his chair to face her, Maya laughing in the background.
Any additional banter was interrupted when Sandra’s commlock chirped. “Benes.”
“Ms Benes, it’s Betty McCandless. You wished to speak with me?”
“Yes, thank you. Would you be free to meet with me for lunch in the main cafeteria at 1230 hours?”
There was a brief pause. “Certainly. I will see you then.” The picture returned to the standby screen.
“Sister Betty?” asked Tony.
Sandra nodded and did not add anything else. Tony glanced at Maya and raised an eyebrow in question. Maya shook her head slightly. Sandra had confided nothing in her. Koenig decided that Sandra was due her privacy, especially if it possibly concerned the closest person Alpha had to ordained clergy. He redirected the conversation to the day’s concerns.
At 1220 hours, Sandra glanced at the Commander and received leave to go a few minutes early. As gracefully as one could at eight months pregnant, she slipped out, aware that she was the focus of curious eyes, Tony’s especially.
She arrived at the cafeteria, not surprised that Alan had preceded her and was sitting at a table in the far corner. At his wave, she cast a hungry glance at the serving line but walked over to the small table.
“Here, Sahn, I grabbed a few things for you,” Alan said with a smile as he stood to hold her seat for her. Reseating himself, he placed a plate and silverware in front of Sandra. “Did she agree to come?”
“Yes, but I did not have a chance to tell her why.”
Alan snorted, “Was Tony still going on about that stuffed animal?” At Sandra’s nod, he added, “Well, it kinda makes up for that time Danae and Lysee hid my commlock at Tony’s suggestion. At least yesterday was an honest accident.”
“Not that Tony believes that.” Sandra put in between mouthfuls of her salad. “Do you think she will agree?”
“Don’t know. All she can do is say ‘no.’” Alan replied tucking into his soy burger and scanning the crowds now walking in.
Sister Betty hurried. She had unintentionally lost track of time deep in a research project for Dr. Mathias. Since Bob had switched his focus to psychiatry, they often overlapped in their interests and ‘patients.’ She had a small group of Catholics, exclusively women, who preferred to see her for their problems. She had been counseling Eva Zoref and Melita Kelly on and off for years now. Initially, she helped each cope with the loss of her husband, though of late each woman’s visits were much more of a social nature, especially Melita who finally seemed to have developed a new friendship with one of the pilots. Oh dear, she hoped Sandra wasn’t meeting with her to discuss a marriage issue. She always felt faintly ludicrous when that issue came up. After all, what did she know about man-woman relationships of that nature?
She finally reached the cafeteria. She had better get some food first. From her experience, when someone asked to meet over a meal, they were much more comfortable when everyone was eating.
“She’s here, Sahn,” Alan said quietly nodding his head in the direction of the serving line. He wiped his mouth, and when Betty turned toward the busy room searching, stood to catch her eye. The yellow-sleeved woman saw him and made her way through the tables to their corner.
“Sandra, Captain Carter,” she smiled as she took the seat opposite from Alan.
“Alan, please. The only people who still use that title are my pilots when they’re getting a dressing down for doing something stupid. Well, and Kevin Taylor. I haven’t been able to get him to loosen up yet.” Alan darted a glace at Sandra who grinned back at him.
Well, that answers that, thought Betty as she chewed her first mouthful. Not a relationship issue. The body language between the two was too relaxed, she saw with relief.
“Alan, then. What may I do for you two?”
Sandra looked at Alan, obviously deferring to him for some reason Betty thought with interest. Sandra was known as a quiet person, but she stood up for herself and allowed no one in her section to misuse his or her authority. After Breakaway, without a purpose and in the midst of a spiritual crisis, Betty had set aside her habit and had asked to be assigned to Sandra’s Data Section so that she could at least be useful organizing the copious archival data Alpha held to help in their survival. On one early occasion, she had seen the small woman upbraid a rather large computer tech who had made inappropriate advancements on a female subordinate. By the end of that confrontation, the man had turned tail and all but crawled away.
“Sister Betty, do you believe God is mad at us?”
She blinked. It took her a second to digest the question through the Australian accent. “Of course not. God is a God of mercy and forgiveness.” She saw Alan nod his head in apparent satisfaction.
“Yeah, that’s what I told Danae.”
“The child heard otherwise?” Betty was dismayed. She could picture the tiny, fragile-seeming, silver-haired child and was appalled that anyone would tell her God was anything but love and compassion.
“Only accidentally. She overheard some adults philosophizing that we are being punished for the sins of Earth and are doomed to wander in space as a punishment.”
Sandra finally spoke up. “Danae and Rich need religious instruction. We are…. “ she looked over to her husband, “not very knowledgeable. Neither of our families made it a habit to attend church. Would you be willing to teach them the fundamentals?”
“If I am not mistaken, neither of you are Catholic.” It was a simple statement said simply and without any condemnation or judgement. Betty had quietly made it her business to learn what faith, if any, her fellow Alphans followed.
Surprisingly, Alan chuckled at this. “Sister, it’s like I’ve told Tony Verdeschi, Anglican or Catholic, this far out from Earth, it doesn’t really matter that much. For better or worse, I doubt the Pope will have much to say.”
“We are more alike than unlike,” Sandra added. “This is as much our children’s heritage as the stories Kevin Taylor is teaching them in the Cavern. We would be honored if you would be one of their teachers, too.”
Betty sat stunned. She placed the fork and knife down on the table. Of all the possibilities that she had considered this morning since speaking with Sandra, this possibility had never even crossed her mind. Tears welled in her eyes.
“Yes. Of course I will.”
She sat in her dimly lit room, her hands unconsciously help in prayerful repose, contemplating how to fulfill Sandra’s and Alan’s startling request, and yet remain sensitive to the unique culture that was growing among the Alphans. She had been originally sent to Alpha at the request of the Vatican to assess the spiritual needs of those assigned to the lunar community, some for years, and had been carefully instructed not to limit herself to her fellow Roman Catholics only. The enlightened man who had been Pope at the time of Breakaway, Pope Alessio II, was already known as the Pope of Reconciliation, so his request had been acceded to by the lunar commission.
Yes, she realized in a moment of revelation, that was the solution. She would tell the stories of reconciliation, of forgiveness, of the importance of family and faith. Her personally held belief was that they all worshipped the same God, just that they went about it in culturally different ways. During her brief, private audience with the Holy Father, she had been stunned that he had been aware of this rather unorthodox view. Still recalling the flush of amazement she had felt, he told her that she had been chosen due to of her tolerant views; that the Pope had selected her just because of the whispers that had reached his ears. No, she would not compromise her beliefs, but she could and would be sensitive to others. No doubt, these children and their children, and theirs would mold a faith that would nurture them, and it would probably be a synthesis of all that was now held on Alpha, and philosophies no one now alive could conceive. The warmth she felt in her soul was benediction enough.
Word was whispered quietly that Sister Betty would be teaching the basics of Christianity to any child whose parents were interested. The whispers spread, but Betty McCandless hoped the good will she had built up over the years would have the doubters bide their time to see first what she would do. She was well aware that the appearance of proselytizing might be poorly received on multi-cultural Alpha. So, it was not with any great surprise she received an unexpected visitor to her office the day after her meeting with Sandra and Alan.
Her commlock chirped. The person seeking her attention was a pilot by his orange collar, but not one she could readily place. “Sister Betty? May I come in?”
“Certainly,” and she opened the door.
“Captain Carter tells me you will be teaching the children. Have you chosen a place yet?” The open, gentle smile on the man’s face made the question an interesting one. In fact, she hadn’t. Except for Jackie Crawford, the children only now were becoming old enough for structured classes, and nothing as yet had been formalized.
“I haven’t, pilot…..” She regarded the tall man closely. His English was spoken like a native, but with a hint of Canadian vowels. His long black braids and slightly dusky complexion hinted at Oriental, or perhaps Native American blood. She was embarrassed not to know this interesting man given how small their community was.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, Kevin Taylor.” He held out his hand to her.
“Ah, the one the children call The Storyteller.” Standing, she took his hand in both of hers. Betty was pleased that she could now place his role, if not his face. Amazingly, he blushed. She gestured toward the only other chair in the small room and they both sat.
“Yes, ma’am. Then you know about the cavern where I meet with the children.”
“I know of it, Kevin, but I have never been invited there.”
“You don’t need an invitation, Sister. And you are welcome to use it. The children are comfortable there and will pay attention to you. I can show you now if you like.” His willingness to share this special place, which by all she had heard was of his doing, was an offer she greatly appreciated.
“By all means.”
She stood in the center of the round, domed cavern deep below Alpha proper, pivoting slowly and carefully on the rough lunar ground. The lighting was dim and the faux torches in mounted wall sconces actually managed to flicker causing the animals painted on the rough hewn walls to move in very lifelike ways. Lights twinkled on the ceiling and she thought she recognized the constellation Orion. In the center of the floor, in a small depression, was a firepit with cellophane flames licking at polymer ‘wood.’ She could even hear the soft sound of wind moving through trees. “This is simply amazing, Kevin. It feels… magical.”
“The wigwam where my grandfather taught me our tribe’s traditions was similar. The children seem to like coming here, especially when we play the tapes of Earth sounds.” Kevin’s brown eyes were widely dilated in the dim light, and the simple sincerity of his gaze touched Betty deeply.
This place was magical, and very spiritual. It would be perfect.
“I would be honored to use your cavern, Kevin. Thank you.”
“This place isn’t mine, Sister. It is the Children’s Cavern, and you are most welcome.”
Betty liked that distinction. All children were welcomed here, young and old. She had a thought. “By any chance, Kevin, do you follow your tribe’s religion?”
“No, ma’am, not the way you mean,” the tall dark-haired Ojibwa pilot smiled, “I’m Methodist.”
Three days later… the cavern was ready. Betty had laughed to find the small consideration Kevin had left behind when he had prepared the place earlier that day. A well-padded, round, cushion just the right size for her to sit upon. She had thought to wear her habit, which she had carefully kept all these years, but decided against it. It was time to start new traditions. And in any case, an order dedicated to life-long celibacy was something simply not practical for many generations yet.
She knelt down and removed from her jacket pocket a small crucifix and rosary that she kissed and placed around her neck. After consideration, she slipped it under her shirt. She would know it was there, and so would God. She had not really prepared any lesson. She would ask the children what they knew and build from that. She trusted the Lord to guide her.
Sister Betty McCandless sat quietly, allowing the peace of this place fill her; suddenly, she looked up…echoing down the sloping tunnel that led from Alpha, she could hear the joy filled laughter of children.
MGK