Teaser Tuesday: Rise of the Golden Dawn
Do you want a teaser today? No? Well, too bad!
More from Daughter of Earth, just under a thousand words (sorry, I just can’t shut up). This is yet another scene between main character Terra and her botanist boss (and my fave), Mara MacGregor. Some background information, for those who may have missed it: book is set on a generation ship. There’s a rebellion, about which Terra has only recently learned. Koen is a boy who has proposed to her, but won’t kiss her. And Terra’s mom is dead, and was a baker.
I think that should get you up to speed.
Remember, the usual caveats (this is a draft!) apply.
“Mara,” I said at last. “There is something I’ve been meaning to ask you. It’s not about boys. Men, I mean. It’s not about that.”She didn’t even look at me. Instead, she fiddled with her dials. “Spit it out, Terra.”
“I know you know a lot about . . . stuff. Not just plants and all.” Clearly, the lack of sleep had somehow affected my ability to put together a half-decent sentence. I drew in a breath, doing my best to speak directly. “I was wondering what you know about the rebellion.”
Mara finally stood straight. She regarded me carefully—evenly. “I do know a lot about, as you put it, ‘stuff.’ For example, historically there have been many rebellions. On Earth, there were the peasant uprisings of France. The American revolts—three civil wars could be pinned on revolutionaries there, in fact. There were the Jacobite Risings. The Boxer Rebellion. The Indian Mutiny of 1857. So it’s unsurprising that we’ve known rebellions on the Maia. One might say that such acts are a part of human nature. Like teenagers—” She lifted an eyebrow. “—we all must eventually rise up against our parents.”
“You said ‘rebellions.’” My words came out breathlessly, in a rush. “There’s been more than one on the ship?”
Mara gave a short nod. “Several. The largest was the uprising that coincided with the deactivation of the ship’s engines. That was . . . a dark time in the Maia’s history. Without the sound of the ship’s heart, steadily beating, to cling to, many passengers felt lost. For the first time in their lives, they noticed the emptiness of their lives. Before their uprising, all marriages were chosen by the council, as vocations are today.”
“People didn’t get to pick who they married?” I asked, making no attempt to hide the surprise from my voice. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be stuck marrying someone I didn’t even like. At least Koen and I got along, mostly.
Even if he still wouldn’t kiss me—even if he hadn’t even held my hand the night before as he walked me home.
“No. I suppose it was a great coup. Now the only ones whose matches are picked for them are the crazy old biddies like me, who are still unmarried by twenty-five.” Mara’s smile was wistful, and maybe a little self-deprecating. I tried to imagine what she would have been like at twenty five, if she would have been any softer, or, perhaps, a little more fun. But I couldn’t picture it, not at all. In my mind, it was like she was probably hatched a little gray-haired old woman, with a hooked nose and a cock-eyed grin. Smiling to myself at the thought of it, I started to turn back to my table, to the clippings that were still scattered there.
“But Terra . . .” Mara spoke carefully. I looked back at her, over my shoulder.
“Yeah?”
She let out a deep sigh. “In the event that your sudden curiosity about the history of human uprisings has something to do with a certain organization known as ‘the Golden Dawn . . .’” My ears pricked up at the mention of it, but I did my best not to show it. Instead, I only looked at her, my mouth a thin line. She grimaced, then rolled her jaw and continued. “You should know that they tried to recruit me, when I was about your age.”
“Oh,” I said, more a statement than a question. I was still being careful to look disinterested. No matter how much I wanted to trust Mara, I couldn’t really be sure she was safe.
“They knew about my feelings about child rearing and marriage. I can’t imagine why anyone would be interested in such things, but you know how gossip travels through these halls.”
I gave a small nod of my head.
“Anyway, I turned them down.” My shoulders wanted to fall; I didn’t let them. “I told them that Mara MacGregor’s never been much of a joiner.”
She cocked her head to one side, looking at me sidelong for a long moment. It was the sort of scrutiny that would have normally made me blush—but I was too spent for that. “Really, I’d expect no different from you. You are my apprentice, after all. P. Pungens?”
I squinted at her. She held her palm out to me expectantly, laughing. “The picea pungens sample I asked you for, Terra. You know, some of us still have work to do.”
I rolled my eyes, turning back to one of the long boxes of finished slides that sat on my workspace. As I ran my finger along the glass edges, I heard Mara make a strange noise—a little rumble, low in her throat, like she was trying to clear it, but couldn’t—not quite.
“Funny thing,” she was saying softly. It seemed she spoke more to herself than she did to me. “I can’t remember the name of the woman who asked me to join the Golden Dawn. I do remember the smell of her, all yeasty. And there was flour on her shirt. I believe she was a baker. Yes, that’s right. A baker. Now what was her name? You know, it’s been years since I last saw her. I wonder whatever became of her.”
I swallowed, hard. There was suddenly a lump in my throat, dry and huge. My hand even shook as I walked to Mara, and passed her the slide.
“Oh well,” she said, taking it from me and pressing her lips into a simper. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter now. Does it, Terra?” Though the words seemed casual, off-hand, her gaze was piercing. I knew she meant the words for me, and me alone. And I knew what they meant.
“No,” I said, and though my eyes welled up with tears, we both ignored it. “I suppose it doesn’t.”
(The husband has informed me that “the Golden Dawn” is the lamest name ever for a rebellion, and I should call them “the Golden Shower.” This is why he’s evil.)
