2.12.1

Sympathetic Sensitivities

True to the lieutenant-commander’s supposition, Captain London asked only three questions when Astrid reported to him. She found him on the Bridge, overseeing the departure of the gateway station with Ricks, Shaely, and Hammond.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yes,” Astrid told him.

“And did you discover anything about these abductions?”

“No,” she answered. Though the shortness of her responses seemed to bother him little.

“Did you find anyone able to help us?”

“Not with this,” she tactfully replied.

“Very well, Specialist,” he concluded. “Carry on and prepare for our next target.”

“You’re not curious what we found?”

“Carry on, Specialist,” Captain London repeated.

Instead of feeling dismissed, Astrid smiled to herself behind the man’s suited shoulders, and excused herself back to the lower decks, to the mess, to rejoin the rest of the crew.

Already, the team sat enthralled in talks when she arrived. With no formal purpose on the station, the crew easily went about their business as if it were any other pitstop.

“So, you’re not going to keep tabs?” Dell asked Romo while Astrid took her seat. “Seems unlike you.”

“I think staying out of it is the best thing all around,” the agent debated. “Having separate paths to integration is for the best.”

“What do you think, Astrid?” Dell then turned to her.

She felt caught, put on the spot, when the table looked to hear from their own resident Channeler.

“I think a soldier shouldn’t be the sole spokesperson for all Channelers. We need a formal representative at some point. I’m afraid these shadow tactics just lead to more hiding. Sure, more Channelers are free, but he said it himself, the whole idea is that no one finds out.

“And honestly,” Astrid felt a responsibility to add, “Just because they can join the world doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous. There must be something between isolation and going totally unregulated.

“If free, we still need help. Therapy, assimilation. At the very least, some form of registry or documentation. I understand Channelers wanting control over their own lives. But how can we know the Underground is any less misguided than Rahna?”

At that, the general mood shifted, and Astrid feared she’d overstepped. Or at the very least, brought a raincloud into the room.

However, in the evening, while Astrid prepared for rack time and recounted to herself the day’s events, she looked up from where she unlaced her boots to find Tenya, observing from the end of the row of beds.

All through their meal the chief remained uncharacteristically quiet. Now, Astrid found troubled solemnity behind the woman’s deep eyes.

“Tenya?”

At first, she didn’t answer.

Astrid swallowed. She recalled how often, and how freely, Tenya voiced her opinion in the past. But now the specialist grew insecure. Rightfully concerned of what could possibly turn her normally chatty friend to quiet introspection.

“Do you have some time to talk?” Tenya’s prelude brought Astrid upright.

The chief wandered up the walkway between bed frames, to sit, with a measured sigh, on the bed beside Astrid.

“I’ve been thinking a lot. About the Underground Railroad,” she began.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t share more,” the Channeler offered. “I have mixed feelings about it myself. Maybe it was better when I didn’t know.”

“Oh, Kitten. I’m not that petty, I understand why you don’t want to talk about it. The Underground must be protected. It’s more about… why I understand, that’s getting to me.”

As quickly as she sat, the chief rose again and stalked to her own locker.

Astrid picked at the fabric over her knees, anxious, while the woman picked through her own personal items.

Eventually Tenya located what she sought, and when she returned, she instead plopped herself on the vacant mattress across from the Channeler, with a closed book in her lap.

Astrid scooched forward and awaited explanation.

“This can be difficult to talk about,” Tenya started. Though, the soft quality to her voice already alluded as much. “It occurred to me that you might not know a lot about my people’s history.”

Astrid found herself confused. She gripped her knees. “Your people? Statics?”

Tenya’s mouth twitched. She took a small breath before she continued. “People with dark skin like mine.”

Astrid’s stomach dropped in her gut. Again, her ignorance shamed her.

“Oh, Tenya, I am so sorry. I didn’t make that connection. It hadn’t occurred to me you might mean-” Astrid stumbled through a horrid apology that turned her face red. Every word felt like she made it worse.

But Tenya, ever accepting, granted her a gracious, if small, smile.

“I thought that might be the case. It’s never come up with you, and I couldn’t tell if you even noticed. I don’t imagine the study of the persecution and oppression of any group, and what it led to, would be encouraged in your studies.” Tenya, too, struggled to elaborate. “It’s been hundreds of years, now. So many people are mixed, like Anders. It can be hard to tell the difference anymore, and that helps. It doesn’t seem to matter as much as it did a thousand years ago, and that should be a good thing. But it does matter. And that’s hard to explain to people.”

Astrid fell silent. She waited while Tenya selected her words.

“My people went through some truly horrible things. Crimes against Humanity. It took us a long time to get over it, and even now, not all of us are. Somewhere in the spirit, there’s like this… scar, that comes with knowing where you come from. Maybe, in some ways, we all bear it. It’s in me, my siblings, my ancestors.

“It seems like so much time has passed that we should be over it, but… it’s still part of the world for as long as it’s a part of our history, and it always will be,” Tenya continued. “Somewhere in that history is Captain London’s ancestors. And those of Anders and his mother. And…”

Tenya paused to tease the edges of the book cover in thought.

“To you it probably just seems like one more thing in a new world you never thought you’d need to understand. But when I went home after we met, I thought about how wonderful it might be for you to come with me on leave someday, to see a real family, you know?

“But then I didn’t know how you’d feel, which parts would be significant to you. And I tried to put myself in your shoes. And then I started thinking of Channelers, and what’s ahead for your people…

“It’s not the same thing. And I hope you never have to go through what my people did. I have no intention of asking you to compare. I know you believe Channelers are innately dangerous. And my ancestors were no more dangerous to our oppressors than they were to us. Less so, considering what was done to us…

“But they kept us beneath them because it provided an existence that felt comfortable. It enabled them to feel unaccountable for their part in how the world worked. And to avoid facing a change that could uproot their lives, or their livelihood. The people that hated us believed our equality somehow took something from them. Even if just a sense of superiority they could not bring themselves to give up.

“And the healing part,” Tenya sighed. “That might be similar. Being a Channeler is not all you are. Someday your people will be in the military, own property, have a role in government. There’s going to be a lot of well-meaning people that will advocate for your freedom by saying that being a Channeler shouldn’t matter. But it does, Astrid.”

Astrid could feel the gravity in Tenya’s words. She wanted to understand. But like many things of which she’d discovered herself uninformed, this left her fumbling for the right response.

“I don’t know what to say,” she tried. “I have the upmost respect for you, Tenya. You’ve been amazing to me this whole journey. You’ve become one of the dearest people in my life. I would never want to hurt you or take you for granted. You know that right?”

Tenya reached across the space between them to squeeze her hand.

“I know. And this isn’t something I can explain in a short conversation, or even with this book. My ancestors were not the only people victimized through history. Maybe the stories of others might also help you. But I hope, when you read them, that you see all the ways we’re the same, as well as all the ways we’re different. The important thing I hope will come out of this is that… I’m going to see you. And you’re going to see me.”

Astrid swallowed. “I would really like that.”

Finally, Tenya slid the tome off her lap and passed it to the Channeler, who took it in her hands reverently.

“I’ve never seen this book before,” she noted.

“It’s considered inflammatory in some places. Especially in a Sanctuary, I suppose,” Tenya reasoned. “Somewhere in there it touches on the real origin of the term ‘Underground Railroad’ and why it was needed. But… there is a lot of darkness before that. It’s intended to evoke complicated feelings. You probably have enough of those these days, so, take it in doses, okay?”

Astrid nodded. “Thank you, Tenya. I can tell this means a lot to you.”

Tenya stood with a wry smile. “So do you, Kitten. I’ll be here if you have any questions.”

The chief’s energy did seem to lighten after divesting herself of the burden she carried. And with great care, Astrid set the book on her bed so she could rise and pull Tenya into a more complete hug.

She didn’t know if Tenya could sense her intention, the way a Channeler would, but nonetheless Astrid poured all her will for understanding, all her admiration, and all her love for her friend in that embrace.

And yet again, as another bond seeded in intimacy threatened to overwhelm her, Astrid once more, found herself nearly unwilling to let go.