restaurant right now?”
“The restrooms downstairs were full. What sort of an experiment?” Aurelia asked, pursuing it anyway.
Ia knew that Thorne’s biological mother was where he had gotten his stubborn determination. Once Aurelia Jones-Quentin sank her teeth into something, it took finesse to get her to let go. Unfortunately, Ia had inherited some of that bluntness as well. Lifting her chin, Ia replied tartly, “Obviously, a
prophetic
sort of experiment? It’s just one more thing I have to do to prepare for the future. Now, if you’ll get out of my way, I’ll exit the bathroom, and you can do your business and get back to work. Don’t forget to wash your hands.”
“Impertinent…!” Giving her daughter a sardonic look—one which mother and daughter shared, since Ia had learned it from her—Aurelia moved back, letting her exit the bathroom. She softened her look, hand gently cupping Ia’s shoulder. “You
are
doing okay, aren’t you? I know all those nightmares stillkept bothering you long after you stopped screaming each night…”
Uncomfortable with even her own mother touching her, Ia’s answering smile was wry at best. She patted her mother’s fingers and slid out from under them. “Trust me, I’m fine. I had the Marine Corps looking out for me while I was gone. Not to mention a chaplain named Bennie who took a personal interest in my mental health and welfare.”
Aurelia tipped her head at that, giving her daughter a speculative look. “Is he cute?”
“Actually,
he
is a
she
,” Ia corrected her mother.
“Is
she
cute?” Aurelia persisted. “I wouldn’t say no to either a son-or a daughter-in-law one of these days.”
Unable to help herself, Ia chuckled. She leaned down and kissed her mother on the cheek. “Look to your sons for grandchildren, Mother. Or to the Free World Colony’s wombpods. I won’t be carrying any of my own. At least, not personally. I do plan on donating some eggs at some point, though.”
The older woman grumbled under her breath. “Oh, sure, ruin my plans for spoiling your children in person, why don’t you?”
Kissing her mother again, this time on the top of her sleek, dark-haired head, Ia stepped through the door to her old bedroom. “I’m giving you an entire colony…well, half of it…to dote and fuss over, Ma. Be content with that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have weird, bizarre, future-probing experiments to conduct in secret…and no, I am
not
going to ‘cut’ myself again today.”
She closed the door before her mother could interrogate her further. Turning around, Ia faced her old bedchamber. It still looked banal, if not quite so crowded. There were two twin-sized beds in here now, instead of a twin and a queen. That meant there were almost two full meters between the two beds, plenty of room to move around. The foot of each bed still served as seating for a built-in desk counter with drawers, and it was to the foot of Fyfer’s bed that she moved.
On the counter were two large boxes. One was empty, while the other had been filled with carefully hollowed thimble-beads crafted from transparent, pastel chunks of crysium. They were pure beads, too, clear and tinted. Some were pale pink, some pale blue or pale green, but most were a pale, clear gold.
At least I could see approximately how many drops per bead I was using, through the timestreams,
she acknowledged, settling everything in place. Squeezing the blood from the container into the shot glass, she picked up the first bead and the eyedropper, dipped the dropper to fill it, then carefully measured out four drops. A pull of energies with her mind softened the bead, and a rolling mush of her fingers mingled the blood with the mineral, until she had a translucent peach bead.
Too much destabilizes the crysium, threatening the decay of the blood and the inability to reintegrate the beads with more of the crystalline medium. Too little dilutes the precognitive resonance between my
“The restrooms downstairs were full. What sort of an experiment?” Aurelia asked, pursuing it anyway.
Ia knew that Thorne’s biological mother was where he had gotten his stubborn determination. Once Aurelia Jones-Quentin sank her teeth into something, it took finesse to get her to let go. Unfortunately, Ia had inherited some of that bluntness as well. Lifting her chin, Ia replied tartly, “Obviously, a
prophetic
sort of experiment? It’s just one more thing I have to do to prepare for the future. Now, if you’ll get out of my way, I’ll exit the bathroom, and you can do your business and get back to work. Don’t forget to wash your hands.”
“Impertinent…!” Giving her daughter a sardonic look—one which mother and daughter shared, since Ia had learned it from her—Aurelia moved back, letting her exit the bathroom. She softened her look, hand gently cupping Ia’s shoulder. “You
are
doing okay, aren’t you? I know all those nightmares stillkept bothering you long after you stopped screaming each night…”
Uncomfortable with even her own mother touching her, Ia’s answering smile was wry at best. She patted her mother’s fingers and slid out from under them. “Trust me, I’m fine. I had the Marine Corps looking out for me while I was gone. Not to mention a chaplain named Bennie who took a personal interest in my mental health and welfare.”
Aurelia tipped her head at that, giving her daughter a speculative look. “Is he cute?”
“Actually,
he
is a
she
,” Ia corrected her mother.
“Is
she
cute?” Aurelia persisted. “I wouldn’t say no to either a son-or a daughter-in-law one of these days.”
Unable to help herself, Ia chuckled. She leaned down and kissed her mother on the cheek. “Look to your sons for grandchildren, Mother. Or to the Free World Colony’s wombpods. I won’t be carrying any of my own. At least, not personally. I do plan on donating some eggs at some point, though.”
The older woman grumbled under her breath. “Oh, sure, ruin my plans for spoiling your children in person, why don’t you?”
Kissing her mother again, this time on the top of her sleek, dark-haired head, Ia stepped through the door to her old bedroom. “I’m giving you an entire colony…well, half of it…to dote and fuss over, Ma. Be content with that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have weird, bizarre, future-probing experiments to conduct in secret…and no, I am
not
going to ‘cut’ myself again today.”
She closed the door before her mother could interrogate her further. Turning around, Ia faced her old bedchamber. It still looked banal, if not quite so crowded. There were two twin-sized beds in here now, instead of a twin and a queen. That meant there were almost two full meters between the two beds, plenty of room to move around. The foot of each bed still served as seating for a built-in desk counter with drawers, and it was to the foot of Fyfer’s bed that she moved.
On the counter were two large boxes. One was empty, while the other had been filled with carefully hollowed thimble-beads crafted from transparent, pastel chunks of crysium. They were pure beads, too, clear and tinted. Some were pale pink, some pale blue or pale green, but most were a pale, clear gold.
At least I could see approximately how many drops per bead I was using, through the timestreams,
she acknowledged, settling everything in place. Squeezing the blood from the container into the shot glass, she picked up the first bead and the eyedropper, dipped the dropper to fill it, then carefully measured out four drops. A pull of energies with her mind softened the bead, and a rolling mush of her fingers mingled the blood with the mineral, until she had a translucent peach bead.
Too much destabilizes the crysium, threatening the decay of the blood and the inability to reintegrate the beads with more of the crystalline medium. Too little dilutes the precognitive resonance between my
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