Rilla's Inheritance Chapter 4

Chapter 4 The menacing stranger glared at me – no, it was more than a glare. He stared into my eyes, and suddenly I felt my senses slipping, my knees giving way, and the room going dark around me. I don’t know how long I was unconscious for. I came round at one point to hear two people talking.
“Have you boosted all the fertility meds?”
“Yes, I’ve done that. What else?”
“We’ll get her out of the medi-suit once they’ve had time to take effect. Then we can put the memory-fogger on her. Did you dump the helmet?”
“Yes. But once you take her name away, no-one will remember her anyway.”
Then someone noticed my eyes opening, and put me under again. The last thing I heard was, “Don’t forget her face either.” The next time I came round, I was lying on a bed in a totally unfamiliar place. My head hurt and I felt sick and giddy. When the room had stopped whirling round, I staggered to my feet and found the bathroom just in time. Where was I? And then I caught sight of a mirror, and went over to see if I looked as rough as I felt. But the face looking back at me didn’t look familiar. Who was she? And then I realised I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know my name. Who was I? There was a door, and I went through it – to find myself in a stone-paved yard, with a metal fence all around it. And no gate. Beyond the fence was a high wall, and beyond that dense trees. I could see no landmarks at all. I had no idea where I was, who I was, or what I was doing there or how I got there. And there was a metal collar round my neck, with little lights on it that changed occasionally. I explored the rest of the building, but there was no other door to the outside. There was a room with cots in it – why did seeing cots make me think of a daisy? And the days went by. There was food in the fridge – and I could go out into the yard and look at the fence and the wall if I wanted. And I was pregnant. I recognised it as familiar. There were other things I knew too – how to cook, how to look after myself. But I didn’t know who I was or where I had come from, or who my parents were or anything like that. When my labour pains started , I knew exactly what they were. And I knew how to look after those three babies. But how had I come to have them? Who was their father? And how did I know how to look after them – did I have more children somewhere else? Or was I part of a big family? A few days later a door suddenly appeared in the wall, and two strangers walked in. Or were they strangers? They frightened me. They picked up the babies and inspected them.
“This is good,” one of them said. “Your turn now, Two.” The first one came over to me and stared into my eyes. My head filled with a suffocating pain, and I could no longer stand. Coming round, I dashed for the toilet. At least I knew where it was this time. My head felt as though someone had been rummaging around inside it – and none too gently either. I have three babies and I’m pregnant again. And tired – this is hard work. I keep expecting there to be someone here to help me, but there isn’t. I have a feeling it’s really important that I have babies, but I don’t know why. And I don’t know who I am! I don’t know my name or anything about me. I do know what this is. This is labour. This is another baby on its way. And I do know that somewhere, sometime, I’ve held babies and loved them. That wasn’t another baby on its way – it was another three. My first three have become toddlers. And the person who calls himself One has come round. He drills them each day. The children look like me – but the face I see in the mirror isn’t a familiar one. And what is this thing round my neck? It hums sometimes, and it’s sometimes warm to the touch. I can’t find out how to take it off though. One came round again, with someone called Three. I have to concentrate to follow what they are saying – it’s as though they’re speaking a foreign language. This time, I knew what he was going to do, but I couldn’t get away from his stare fast enough. The first three children are older again. I’m sure it shouldn’t happen so fast. And they seem so unhappy and mean. I’m sure I’m used to having happy children – but whenever I try to remember things, my mind goes all blurry and foggy. And this thing round my neck hums and the lights flash, and it gets warm. Could it be interfering with my memory? I’m also pregnant again. There’s another baby on the way – more than one, judging from the wriggling going on in there. One has taken the first three children away to live with him. Two comes round and drills the next three, just like One did. The children have no names – and I think this ought to worry me, but I don’t know why. I just feel that they need names – but I can’t think of any. One and Two use letters to refer to them – R and V and so on. Something is wrong here, but I don’t know what, and I don’t know what to do. Can I try and fight back at all? Can I resist them when they stare into my eyes and mess with my mind? While I was lost, confused and trapped far from my home, the children that I could no longer remember had not forgotten me. Abigail and Barbara were the first to feel uneasy about me. And their uneasiness deepened when their father said, “Who? Who are you talking about?” They dragged him round to my house – the place where they had grown up – but he still couldn’t remember me. Barbara and Abigail were so insistent that something was wrong that Adri Adrin went off to find another Adri. And Adri Tallin had had exactly the same experience – only with five daughters this time, all telling him that they had a mother called Rilla, and that something was wrong with her. Very wrong. When all six of the Adris got together and compared notes, they knew they had to act. Not least because all the girls were going to do something off their own bat anyway. Adri Adrin went back to my house and examined it forensically. The place looked as if the owner had just walked out. There was a book on the table, music playing – and the high chairs did suggest that there had been small children or babies here recently. Then he found the medi-aid lying on the floor. It wasn’t one of his – and how had it got there? It wasn’t one of the hospital ones either, but he did recognise it as an original ship’s store issue. And the only reason to use one was to alter the functions of a medi-suit. Which the girls were all insisting that their mother wore. After that, they began to search for me big-time. Adri Valdin and his clan did the planning and co-ordinating. He and Martha and Naomi sat by the fire each evening, planning the next day’s search, co-ordinating the searchers and following up any clues. But it was a big planet, and the ground was full of little hidden valleys – searching took time. And his daughters kept telling their father about me, in the hope that his memory of me would return. Each time they mentioned my name, a little more came back to him. Daisy and Catriona also knew that I wasn’t dead, but I was in trouble. They came and weeded and tended my garden every day, keeping the place looking good for my return. And, like my other daughters, they kept talking about me, kept saying my name over and over again. And with each repetition of it, what the Xydin had done when they took my name away was slowly being undone. My next babies were twins. And one of the Xydin stormed in to my yard, furious with me for only having twins. The others followed him. Again, I had to concentrate to follow what they were saying, but I could understand it.
“She’s fighting back,” one of them said. “We need to boost the signal on the memory fogger.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” asked another.
“What does it matter if she forgets everything? She’s here to have babies.”
And the last sentence rang true, somehow. I knew I was here to have babies. But not like this.
“We’ve got an old medi-suit – we could re-boost her fertility meds.”
“Good idea. Then she should have triplets again.”
I didn’t like what I was hearing. But they were bigger and stronger than me – and outnumbered me. When he stared hard into my eyes, I fought back as hard as I could.
“Told you we need to boost the memory fogger,” one of them said. But eventually he overcame me. Once again, I came to lying on a bed. When I looked in the mirror, the face I saw was - surely – not the one I’d seen before. It was really hard to think – my mind felt as though it was full of cotton wool. Or as though it was slipping through my fingers like dry sand. There were people talking in the next room.
“They’re looking for her.”
“This place is too easy to find.”
“We’re going to have to move her – and us.”
“We need to clear this place out completely. We mustn’t leave a single clue that she was ever here.”
Someone was looking for me. Someone was looking for me. This seemed to be terribly important. I needed to leave a clue for them. The other people left the room and I went to see what I could do. It was so hard to concentrate. There was no way out of the yard, but there was a gap between the mesh fence and the high wall. I took a child’s toy and threw it right into the corner of the gap. Maybe someone would find it and know that there had been someone else here. Someone was looking for me. There was more to my life than just this place. If only it wasn’t so hard to think!
The next place was quite a distance away. Walking wasn’t as hard as it might have been – although my head felt fuzzy and confused, my body felt fine. It seemed to be a collection of little buildings, again hidden among trees. And once again, they were protected by high walls and mesh fences. I had thought that the last place was designed to keep people in, but it might equally well have been designed to keep dangers out. Some of the huts seemed like houses inside, but the one I was put in was strange. The internal walls were all made of wire mesh. Later on, I discovered that this one had been meant for storage, and not as living quarters, but it was odd being able to see into every room. When I looked in the mirror, it was harder than ever to recognise the person who looked back at me. Her eyes seemed to be lost and empty. My family were still looking for me. Martha and Naomi were searching all the nearby lakes and other water sources, reasoning that wherever I was, I must be near a water source to be able to survive. They didn’t know that they were being watched in their turn, by a shadowy figure who had no family to call his own. When Nemo heard what they were saying, he crept closer and listened carefully. Years of having to forage for himself meant that he knew the lie of the land better than anyone. Nemo had a very good idea where I might be – but who could he tell? No-one could remember him – and he had no reason to believe that talking to any of my daughters would be any different to trying to talk to anyone else. The Xydin had taken away his name, and he no longer existed in the memory of the clans. He was going to have to look for me himself. Nemo set out on his search as soon as day broke. Three days travelling took him to the place where I had first been held captive. Even as he crept closer, he knew the place was deserted. Nevertheless, he decided to climb the wall and see if there was any sign of me having been there. The hut I had lived in was completely empty – too empty, Nemo felt. He went over to the other building.
That bore all the signs of a hasty exit. No signs of me, but the place had very clearly been occupied quite recently. He was going to have to continue his search elsewhere. And two weeks later, there was a stranger on the other side of the fence that bounded my yard. “Rilla,” a voice whispered urgently. “Rilla. Is that you?”

Rilla's Inheritance Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Lots of things happened all at once! I was pregnant again! Adri Tallin’s child, without a doubt, but not planned as the first pregnancy had been. Abigail and Barbara, who had come round to help Eloise, Felicity and Gabriella get ready to move out to Adri Mellin’s place were thrilled to bits. They were so aware of how important my babies were to the colony. Adri Tallin was thrilled by the news. “The Tallin are so small,” he said. “We so need these children.” While he was there, I quizzed him about the markings on his arms – the facial markings had developed on the other children as they became toddlers. “No, these don’t develop,” he said. “We earn these; they are awarded. I only have five, and normally the Adri or Adrina has all six. But as I had the most, I became Adri.” This time, when I went into labour, there was no-one there to panic – though Adri Adrin’s team arrived in time for the birth. And it was triplets again! Jenny, Kirsty and Laura. The girls were still babies when Adri Valdin turned up. He was something different again – later, when I learnt more about the Valdin, I realised just how different. If I’d known more about the Valdin then, I might not have said yes to his plea for a child. Or I’d have set some pre-conditions at least. As it was, I was pregnant again – with three toddlers (sitting in the beautiful high chairs Adri Tallin had made for me and them), and with no sign of Adri Valdin anywhere. All the other Adris had been so caring and considerate of me while I was carrying their children that this was hard to take. Coping with triplets was such hard work! Previously, I’d had older daughter around to help me – but Jenny, Laura and Kirsty were the older daughters. And coping with triplets whilst pregnant was even harder work. And coping with triplets, whilst pregnant, without the father of my unborn child showing up was hardest of all. I was feeling taken for granted. Okay, at least some of the other fathers had just panicked when I went into labour, but they’d been there! Toddlers are not good birth partners. And it was no fun doing night feeds for Martha and Naomi on my own, either. Adri Mellin called round (not Adri Valdin) and saw what a state I was in. Three hours later, Barbara and Abigail turned up on the doorstep, ready to come and stay and help me for as long as I needed them. It wasn’t just the practical help that made such a difference either. It was lovely sitting down and eating with them, catching up on their news. Abigail had decided she definitely wanted to become a doctor. Barbara wasn’t sure yet, but, as she said, there was plenty of time. When Adri Mellin called round again, he said they’d make sure this didn’t happen again. The girls could take it in turns to visit and help me. I sounded off about Adri Valdin, but he said not to judge him too harshly. “The Valdin are our trouble-shooters, and Adri Valdin is the best of them all. There’s been a report of some Xydin hiding out in the hills, and he’s gone to investigate.”
“So what are the Xydin?” I asked
. Adri’s face grew grave. “They are our seventh clan. And they lost their Adrina to the plague – all their Adrinas, past present and future. And now they have no leadership.” Adri Tallin’s girls had grown up. There was no getting away from the fact. Adri came round to say it was time they went to him. “You know I’ll take good care of them,” he said. And I did know it. Saying goodbye was still a bit of a wrench though. Coping with just Martha and Naomi wasn’t a problem. Potty training never seems to get any less stinky – funny, that… And this was Naomi learning to walk – both the girls were so determined. And very self-sufficient. But their father was missing all this! What was with these Xydin, anyway? The next person to mention the Xydin was another Adri – Adri Verdin. Of all the Adris I had met, he was the weirdest looking, but also the nicest. His clan majored in all things environmental – not just tree-hugging, but finding out which natural resources were available (which explained his clothes – they were trying out various plants for fabric and dyes), how to tread softly on the planet, what was edible and what wasn’t – Adri Adrin had a lot of time for the science they did. Saying yes to having his child was sweet and easy. And like the other Adris (apart from one Adri Valdin) he was helpful and supportive through my pregnancy. He took over the garden, and totally re-ordered it, finding me some new plants. Imogen called round and was so taken with the bump. Listening to the girls talking, I began to get some idea of how impressed everyone was with my ability to bear children. And how precious these children were. Having grown up in an orphanage unwanted by any family – and then when I met some family, they tried to kill me! – it was so reassuring to know that if anything happened to me, these children would have dozens of parents. After Octavia and Philomena were born, Adri Verdin took me out.
“I want to show you somewhere special,” he said. “This is The Place.” It was an impressive place, too – tall columns and raised grassy banks that would seat many hundreds of people. And seven chairs under the pillars. “So what are the seven chairs for?”
“They are for the seven leaders of our clans – the Adri or Adrina for each one sits there when we have need to talk as a colony, and not just as a clan. But the Xydin only ever have an Adrina, and they have no women now.” He showed me round the seats, and pointed out the seven stones round the edges, but my mind was on the Xydin. “But what do they do, with no Adrina?”
Adri Verdin’s face was both serious and sorrowful. “We told them of our plan – to find someone, somewhere, whom we could bring here. The Xydin are the lawkeepers, and the traditionalists. Our laws said that we could not just seize someone, kidnap them, but we could rescue someone from certain death. And then let them choose of their own free will to help us. That broke no laws. You have not felt coerced at all, have you?” He looked at me anxiously. I laughed at him. “No. Not at all. Adri Adrin tried to talk me out of it, in fact. I would have died in that fire. I have a chance of a new life. And what I am doing is important. I am not sorry.” We stopped to look at one of the carved stones round the edge of the seating.
“These were cut from the hills of our own clans before we left our home planet. They survived our crash-landing here – which is more than a lot of our equipment did! – and we put them up when we made The Place.”
“That reminds me,” I said to him. “I’ve been meaning to ask: why didn’t you just send a message home for help?”
He shrugged. “We couldn’t. The equipment was smashed. And we were thrown so far off our planned course that no-one would – or will- ever find us. So we began to make a new world: until the plague struck.” Adri Verdin was a mine of useful information about the colony and its history. And also about the Xydin. Why had they suddenly objected to the whole plan, I asked. He sighed – something he did a lot when talking about the Xydin.
“Because we were going to need to marry out of our clans. Which people do sometimes, but not that often. But with a common mother – we need to mix up our genes as much as possible. And their Adrina had died. The male Xydin see things too black and white: only the women seem able to compromise.” He would have said more, but just then Adri Valdin arrived to take his girls away. Watching them fly over to hug him, I couldn’t believe they were unwilling to go, but it surprised me, given that they hadn’t seen a lot of him. This left me with a small household – Octavia and Philomena, and Adri Verdin round nearly all the time. They were as sweet-natured as their father, and passionately interested in everything. Octavia wanted to know who they would marry when they grew up.
“A Caldin, maybe, or a Mellin, or a Tallin,” said their father. “Not a Verdin, though. And then your children will marry into a different clan again.” He turned and smiled at me. “This is what frightened the Xydin so – we are going to have to totally revolutionise our society. And the Xydin are the tradition-keepers, so what becomes of them?”
“You have to make new traditions and rituals,” I said. “You have to celebrate new ways of doing things.” Soon it was time for Philomena and Octavia to leave as well. “You know we’re only a thought away,” Philomena said as she hugged me goodbye. Octavia just hugged me. Adri Adrin came to see me the next day. “What happens next is up to you,” he said.
“You’ve given each clan some daughters, and we are so grateful. You can do whatever you like next – and I think you should meet some more of the clan members. After all, there’s a strong possibility that sixteen of them at least are going to end up being your sons-in-law!” And it was lonely, eating on my own. I missed having company – so I did get out and about. I started with a household of Adrin – Nem, Tyo, Meti and Liot. They asked me round for a meal. Liot was fun – charming, and with a great sense of humour. He taught me how to play a strategy game that was like our chess – very like, as I lost to him every time. I got out and about more as well, as I wasn’t tied with small children, plant and seed hunting. And it was on one of those expeditions that I met someone unlike anyone else I’d met before. At first I was worried, in case he was one of the Xydin, but he seemed too hang-dog and just plain sad for that. I asked him his name, and he said Nemo. Nemo Nullin. “But there is no clan Nullin,” I said.
“I know,” he said. “My mother and my father were not from the same clan. The Lawmakers told me that they should never have had me.” He turned his back on me, as if he was ashamed. “They took away my name. I do not know which clan my parents belonged to – I cannot remember their names either. I know they died when I was a teenager.”
“But someone must know about you,” I protested.
“You don’t understand,” he said. “They took away my name. No-one knows about me now.” I couldn’t get Nemo out of my head. From his looks, he might have been an Adrin – the blue skin – or a Caldin: the hair and face markings.
Adri called round the next day, to ask how I’d enjoyed meeting a few more people. And would I like to meet some more, or get to know those four better first? He didn’t want me to feel overwhelmed. I figured I wanted to take it steady, and get to know that household a bit better first. Then I asked him if any Adrin had ever married someone from another clan.
“Not in this colony, though yes in other places. Not very often: being married to a science obsessive isn’t everyone’s cup of tea!” Next stop was Adri Caldin: I tracked him down at his home for once. I asked him the same question.
“I’m not sure, Rilla. I was a bit of a lab rat on the voyage here: there were a bunch of us who were messing around with speeding up seed germination and growth, and we didn’t mix much with the others. And we carried on with it when we got here, as it was a bit of a priority; to get crops growing as fast as possible. Plus analysing the fish stocks. I was a bit out of touch.” No help from him then. As a last resort, I asked Adri Tallin. He knew the answer straight away.
“Yes. Terena Tallin – one of our best artists. She married Binto Caldin.” So I had been right about the Caldin genes then! “They were a lovely couple – and then they died in an accident.”
“Did they have any children?” I asked.
Something odd happened. Adri’s eyes went all unfocussed for a moment, as if he was trying to remember something that was trapped way back in his memory. “Children? I can’t remember any.” And that was odd too. Terena had been his friend, and he’d had a high opinion of her. He ought to know the answer to that question.
So I carried on quizzing him. “What does it mean, someone taking your name away?”
“Adri Verdin’s been telling you a lot of our history, hasn’t he?” He was amused. “Which story did he tell you?”
“Oh, it just got mentioned in passing,” I said, “and I was interested.”
Adri took a deep breath. “Well,” he said, “it’s all to do with the Xydin. The Xydin are the name-givers, as well as the law-givers. And they can take away someone’s name too – and when they do that, the person becomes forgotten by all. I mean really forgotten – not ignored. We all have a mental link with each other – not a really strong can-talk-to-each-other-mentally one, but it’s there. And the Xydin have it the most: they can affect the minds of others, whereas the rest of us are mostly just aware of each other. You know when you felt so worn out by the babies, and Adri Mellin came straight round? Well, that was because Gabriella, and Eloise, and Felicity all told him you weren’t happy.” After hearing all this, I wanted to know more about Nemo from himself. And I was in luck – I met him at my favourite quiet fishing spot. Again, he was so unsure of himself, so withdrawn. However, I managed to get him talking.
“Tell me about these Lawmakers. The ones who took your name.” His eyes were haunted. “They had black hair, and black stars on their faces. But pale, pale skin – as pale as yours. And their eyes were blue, but they burnt and hurt. And they told me I should not exist, but that to kill me would make them lawbreakers. So they would take my name. And now I don’t know who I am. Nemo is the name they gave me, so I use it, but it’s not my name. I do know that.” He looked at me for the first time. “Do you have a name? And do you have parents?” “I do have a name. It’s Rilla. But I have no parents – my mother died when I was only a week old and my father was already dead. She gave me my name, and she gave me this,” and I touched the carved stone I wore at my throat.
“Rilla,” he said. “I’m glad you’ve got a name.”
“I think I’ve found out who your parents were,” I said. “Do you remember the names Binto Caldin and Terena Tallin?” Like Adri Tallin the other day, his eyes changed. But the other way round – it was as though memories were coming back to him instead of eluding him.
“Their names,” he said. “You have given their names back to me. Yes. I do remember them now. I have to go. I need to think. Excuse me.” And he ran off. Which didn’t surprise me. As I turned to go home, I was trying to work out how to get everyone else to realise that Nemo was Binto and Terena’s son. And how to get him to be part of a clan again. And how to give him a new name. It seemed that without a name, no-one could remember you. I went into my house –and found it full of strangers! And one of them came towards me, looking angry and menacing. He had dark hair, and dark stars on his face, and his eyes were a burning blue in his pale face.