Flowers: Vyvjan Asao's Journal

June 1 3002 -

Today I go in for the interview with New Murmansk. It's always a step upwards with me now, one child's step after another up this social ladder towards the quicker ships, the sleeker beauties and the larger sums they represent to me as their pilot.

I know I would have been content, had the Lady not seen fit to instruct me, to stay home with the Trillian and my parents, to pilot and salvage and drop into port like a lightning bolt intent on slaking my thirst for the earth.

It's not so hard to imagine what it feels like to live unthinkingly in that wat. It's much harder to imagine myself doing it, now, when I understand better what it is that fulfills us in the end. There are no distracting side-paths, no tangents, and so my thirst for the earth is satisfied cleanly and with pleasure.

My children are all safe and happy. Angka's father stopped by while I was there and more of the comforts of the earth were seen to. I think he misses me, at least a little, and I don't blame him. Personal comfort can easily seem to be everything there is when you're buried in the arms of another.

It's important to remember the bigger things, here. When the right path is followed everything opens up around you, leaving you at the center of a blossom of rightness. It's been two years since Lai was born. I should start looking for a prospective father for the next. Perhaps at the next church meeting, although I need to find work first. I'm not sure where I'll go if this Mister DelMarenno declines -- back to freight, I suppose.

Which reminds me that I need to get out of the mother mindset and go wash baby drool and the smell of wet wipes off, and start to filter back into the professional world.

I wonder if Mister DelMarenno has ever longed for the infinite?

-Vyvjan Allanah Asao, private diary.

June 15 3002 -

I've been hired for New Murmansk's passenger transport facility, and Mister DelMarenno is hunting down the ship for me. Apparently the last pilot was a little bit flighty.

There's no news on the home front, per se, except for Angka's report card. I can't believe she's so old so quickly. Lai and Xyljan are both teething, and apparently Lai's having a nasty time of it. The mumsiedads last mail would really bring Maza down on my head if they had the ability. I suppose I can be excused for being relieved that they're taking care of the babies right now; I do have to work, after all.

It's strange indeed, but there are some very pretty ships on the landing pad here. I've been checking up on the nicer ones in my spare time and drooling on them, I'll admit. I probably shouldn't give the child in me too much free reign right now. It's important to remember the focus of enlightenment, and not just the human pieces in between.

My own ship - /my own ship/, since I'm hired, not that she's mine in name - is a Hera, one of those little dolled-up shuttles. I haven't seen her yet, though I know I will soon.

Here is to patience.

-Vyvjan Allanah Asao, private diary.

July 19 3002 -

It's been a busy time here, with not much to write about and much to do. I've met several interesting people, and it's really beginning to feel like home here. Some are thirsty for meaning and others quite content, as is always the case when I first soem somewhere. We shall see what happens.

One man in particular has caught my attention, a Yevgeni Sergeytov. He's rather unusual in a lot of ways, though I haven't seen him lately. It's a shame he isn't a Timonae. Well, no need to rush things on that front. Timonae or not we can still learn from each other.

I've been heading home off and on to help take the burden off my babies' grandparents. A week here and a week there, it's worked fine since I'm mostly sitting idle here on the rock. It's taking a little longer than expected to get my ship, so I'm doing idle running around for the company when they need, but nothing major.

Their organisation is rather interesting, in the sense of being not so very existent. Even I'm leery of this method of running a business, but we shall see...

-Vyvjan Allanah Asao, private diary.

August 18 3002 -

It's always difficult to be sure whether it's Lin's opened hand or Maza's, a blessing or a tease, that you see ahead of you.

I remember years ago how much I always wanted to gain my full range of motion back, to run and jump and swim and tumble across zero-G or grass alike. It was a sharp misdirected need then, the need for my place in the universe which I thought I would achieve if I was only like everyone else, if I could only fit in and like everyone else be so unaware that there was more to life than this that I do now.

I haven't regretted what has happened to me since I met Maryam and then Mirin decades ago on Quaquan. Well, not decades plural yet, I suppose, but it draws near... so many years past, and two centuries left, nearly. I can't imagine what will be made of me by the time this is all over. I can generally say that I've never been happier, every week, every month, than I've ever been.

So, will I then accept Mister DelMarenno's offer of medical treatment if it turns out the Sivadians can make me a little more normal with their magic? And, of course, if when he sees the expense for the nonhuman genome to be tampered with, for the alien biology to be shifted, he decides to go through with it.

My body as it is is perfectly capable. It laughs, it feels joy and pain both, it can nurture new life as it was made to do and instruct that new life joyfully as is my responsibility. Would it improve me to be able to dodge unruly flying animals and taunting youngsters in a crowd? Would it add to the meaning of my story of I could walk more quickly, like everyone else can, or rise like a young startled animal from my chair in a bar? Would it be more enjoyable to make love if I could tangle in exotic positions like a pretzel?

I'll need to think of this, and to talk about it. It will take time to find the true path here amongst the stubbornness and the echoes of old longings and the huge weighty mass of cultural opinion.

After some meditation this will be easier to sort, too.

-Vyvjan Allanah Asao, private diary.

August 20 3002 -

I'm back from a quick immersion into motherhood. Xyljan caught a bug, and I had to run back and sit by her bedside and bring her juice and tea and have a cool hand for her forehead.

I haven't quite been able to step out of it yet; I probably embarassed the life out of a young humanish boy on the dock son the way back. The tendancy to mother is such an instinctive thing, and it does come out in so many odd ways. Soon I'll swing back into professional life and leave it behind gladly, but until then here I am, terrorising the younger populace of Ungstir.

I haven't been able to see Yevgeni Sergeytov recently; he seems to have hidden himself elsewhere, perhaps on Sivad or La Terre where he said he was located. It's too bad, both that I haven't seen him recently and that the closest I've come was a mention of injury in the back-issues of the news. Maybe I should send a card, at least. Someone here may know where to send it.

I should also remember to pick up a gift for Ryyl's age-turning celebration in two weeks. He's always the hardest to choose something for, so if I don't start early I'll be in trouble. The Lady's frown is nothing compared to the wrath of a slighted child.

But, before all this, sleep! Oh, sweet Lin will it be nice to sleep after that little episode. And there's the bed, calling...

-Vyvjan Allanah Asao, private diary.