Captain Cosette Read online

  “In the depths of winter, I learned that within me there was an invincible summer that could withstand the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.”

  -- Renée Chevalier, Planet Sorine, author of Blazing Hearts on Fire Again

  Chapter One

  No one helped Cosette cut the heavy vine of ambrosia fruit. No one helped her heft it to her shoulder, nor helped her struggle to the end of the row and settle it into the cart.

  Her step-brothers, Lucas and Claude, had their own quadrants of the family vineyard to harvest. No one helped them either, but they were twice her weight and half again her size. They whistled and called to each other, but not to her. She was the sibling by a previous father, she was small, and she was a girl.

  I don’t care. I can harvest my quadrant the same as them.

  She carefully cut the next large branch from the vine, a sloping cut one inch from the divide, just right to encourage new growth next spring. She tucked the knife into the scabbard at her waist and heaved the vine over her shoulder, slowly so as not to bruise the dark red fruit, full of the juice so prized in the port city.

  “Lucas,” called Claude from his quadrant, “I’m on my last row. You need some help?”

  Sweat from Cosette’s forehead collected on her eyebrows, but she didn’t wipe it off. She needed both hands to balance the load on her back. Each step took concentration; the ground was uneven, and a fall would be disastrous.

  She had eaten an ambrosia fruit once, cutting it in half with her knife and sucking the juice. It was almost worth the whipping her stepfather had given her and the accusations that she was a thief and a waste. She protested that the fruit was as much hers as anyone else in the family, but that just brought on a few extra strokes. She never tasted the fruit again.

  But that one taste had been heavenly.

  Merchants at the spaceport paid well, and spaceships took crates of the ambrosia fruit to other planets, where the value increased greatly due to its rarity.

  Cosette never saw the money, though. Auguste, when he did take time to speak to her, said only that the money had been invested in her future, and that after the bills had all been paid, there wasn’t much left anyway.

  Lucas and Claude always wore the best of clothes and never lacked pocket money when festivals were held. Somehow, even though Cosette was the oldest, Auguste had trouble dredging up a few coins when she asked for them.

  She gently laid the vine in the cart and wearily walked down the row for another.

  “What do you mean, do I need help?” shouted Lucas. “I’m done! Finish up, you lazy carcass, and let’s go swimming!”

  Swimming!

  She would give anything to throw off her work dress and fall into the clear water of the river that skirted the edge of their property. Several farms lined the banks, and on special days, such as pruning, thinning, and harvest, everyone would gather above the irrigation dam at the end of the day and swim.

  Gregory would be there.

  Her heart warmed and her step quickened. Gregory, the boy with the quick laughter, the sandy hair and the kind eyes, who didn’t hesitate to talk to her and even dunk her in fun. He was a decent soul, the only decent soul she knew, though she had to admit that she didn’t know very many others.

  Lucas and Claude met her as she carried back another vine to her cart. “Not done yet?” taunted Lucas, his dark curly hair half-hiding his eyes.

  Claude, a year younger than Lucas but with the same dark curls and leering mouth, elbowed him in the ribs. “She was probably sleeping again.”

  Lucas elbowed him back. “She’ll miss swimming! She’ll break Gregory’s heart!”

  Claude clutched his chest and put the back of his hand against his forehead. “Cosette! Cosette! I will die without you!”

  Cosette kept her face grim. Years of being taunted had built stone walls inside her. The taunting still hurt, but the hurt never got out for anyone to see. “You could help me with the last rows. I would appreciate it.”

  Lucas’ face lost its humor. “We did our quadrant, older sister, and you can do yours. Fair’s fair.”

  “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “How are you going to do that? Wash our clothes? Cook our food? You already do that.”

  Claude elbowed Lucas again. “Stop wasting time. Let’s go swim!”

  They ran off, elbowing each other and laughing. The last thing Cosette heard was Lucas mimicking her voice, “I’ll make it up to you!”

  She added another stone to the wall inside her, but a tear of frustration got out.

  She looked at the rows, and pushed back her long blonde hair.

  I can walk faster.

  After taking a deep pull of water from the bota on the end post, she ran back to the next vine, chose the branch with ripe fruit and cut it, after checking carefully for any of the large yellow spiders that would make her hand swell up. She hated spiders, and her stepbrothers would sometimes drop them on her hair for spite.

  Hefting the vine on her back, she trudged quickly back to the cart. She laid it down, careless of the fruit. Let her get caned for the damage – if she could spend some time with Gregory, she would have memories to comfort her.

  Back and forth she went, ignoring the complaints of her legs and back. She filled her cart, and then pulled it to the place where the merchant would park his truck, the whine of its turbine bringing everyone out to help load.

  She grabbed another empty cart, and hurried back.

  Gregory will be there, and he’ll smile and wave, and I’ll jump in the cool water and swim to him. He’ll try to dunk me again, and I’ll dunk him instead, and then we’ll swim to the bank and chat.

  She stumbled in her reverie and almost dropped a branch.

  I’ll be bold, I will, and I’ll grab him and kiss him quickly, my first real kiss, and then he’ll confess it was his first real kiss also, looking all shy. We’ll be more than friends after that, we’ll get married, we’ll start our own farm and I’ll have children, sweet children that I will teach never to bully each other.

  And she would never have to see her stepfather Auguste again.

  She was wringing with sweat when she finished. Flies buzzed her, attracted to the salt on her skin, but she didn’t bother to swipe at them; she needed to get the last cart in place for the merchant.

  Done, and the sun was still up. The rest of the branches wouldn’t be ripe for another week.

  She threw the harvest knife into the shed and ran towards the dam.

  Trees softened the heat of fall as she left her property, and she slowed down and lifted off her work dress. Her underclothes, everyone’s underclothes, were thick and served for swimming; only city people had bathing suits. Still, she was a lady, and she didn’t like removing her work dress in front of others.

  Her mother and father had cleared the land and planted the ambrosia vines. She was the only child her mother had; the sickness came and carried away her father, and when her mother married Auguste, her mother found that she could bear no more children. Auguste had Lucas and Claude from a previous marriage.

  Her mother cared well for them, but she weakened and died when Cosette was twelve. After that, Auguste and his two boys acted as though they owned the property and Cosette remembered no happy times from then on.

  Still, legally, she would be the one to inherit the land because she was the oldest child. Eighteen times had the planet Sorine orbited its sun since she was born, making her seventeen standard Earth years. Lucas was sixteen Earth years, and Claude a year younger. It didn’t matter that Cosette was a female; the planetary council had insisted that there be no difference between the legal rights of men and women on Sorine.

  But she would happily leave the farm to Auguste and begin a n
ew farm with Gregory. She wouldn’t mind working hard, as long as there was love in her life, something to give it meaning.

  Laughter echoed through the woods. People were still swimming.

  I’m not too late! Gregory should still be here!

  She paused where the narrow path left the woods, hung her work dress on a dead branch, and studied the swimmers in the water. The irrigation dam was an earthen dam but substantial, holding back enough water to swim in and to jump in from a rope swing. The swimmers were playing catch with an old leather ball, but Gregory wasn’t there, just Lucas and Claude and several other young men and women. Four girls were eating and resting on the near side of the dam, their hair wet and stringy.

  Maybe Gregory has already gone.

  Disappointment twisted inside of her, but across the water she saw movement. Gregory and a girl were sitting under a tree on the far side, hidden from the swimmers by a bush.

  Cosette almost called out to him, but then she saw that the girl and Gregory were leaning towards each other, talking. The girl put her hands on the sides of his face, pulled him close, and kissed him right on the mouth.

  Cosette froze and her heart died.

  The pair separated; the girl laughed and poked at Gregory’s chest. He pulled the girl close and kissed her again.

  Lucas waved at her from the water and yelled, “Cosette! Come on in! Gregory’s here!”

  Claude stood on the bank, clutched his chest and once more cried “Cosette! Cosette! I will die without you!” With great drama, he fell backwards into the water.

  Gregory looked up from the girl and saw Cosette. He smiled and waved.

  He thinks there’s nothing wrong. He knows I saw him kissing another girl and he doesn’t mind.

  He’s nice to everybody. Anybody. Even me.

  I’ll never kiss him.

  I’ll never have his children.

  She turned away from the cool water, from the other farm youth. She grabbed her work dress and ran back towards her farm, brushing tears from her eyes.

  She ran into the field she had just harvested and collapsed among the remains, sobbing. She was beyond thinking. She couldn’t put into words what her pain was; all she knew was that she hurt. Her body hurt and her heart hurt worse.

  When she had exhausted her self-pity, she wiped her eyes with the hem of her work dress. Her mind vacant, she stood and slid the dress back on, then pushed her blonde hair into place with her fingers. The pump provided cold water to wash her face, and she walked back to the house looking as though nothing had happened, as though her world was still intact.

  Her stepfather’s quadrant was only half harvested. He would make her and Claude and Lucas finish it at the first light of dawn, so that the fruit would be ready for the buyer. Out of pique, she ripped off a ripe fruit and dropped it into the pocket of her work dress.

  She entered the side door, went to her room and changed, putting on her other set of clothes. After the buyer took the fruit, she would ask Auguste for money for new clothes, especially for a coat for winter. He would grumble and complain, but after the buyer came he was usually in a more generous mood.

  “Is that you, Cosette?” she heard her stepfather call.

  She slipped the stolen fruit into her personal bag, and then entered the kitchen calmly and quietly. A methane stove stood in the corner beside a worktable and a sturdy plastic sink. Her stepfather sat at the table under the cheap photon tiles that lit the kitchen. He wore his work clothes, with a sturdy pair of suspenders to keep his pants up on his belly. He had grown heavy, and his hair that used to be black as night had become more salt than pepper.

  On the table in front of him lay several legal-looking documents, which he studied through a battered pair of reading glasses.

  “Yes?” she said.

  “You finish your quadrant?”

  She nodded.

  He raised his eyebrows without looking at her. “Really? How about Lucas and Claude?”

  “They’re done. They’re swimming.”

  “You didn’t go?”

  “I didn’t feel like it.”

  He grunted. He held up a piece of paper, high quality paper with official seals. “The Unionist party at the capitol is having problems with the Federalists again.”

  She didn’t respond. The politics of Sorine didn’t interest her, didn’t affect her life. Tomorrow she would wash clothes and prepare food, just as always.

  Gregory kissed the girl.

  She winced, and took a deep breath.

  “This here,” he said, tapping the paper, “I got a couple days ago. The Unionist government is drafting. Looks like there might be more fighting.”

  She didn’t comment. He hadn’t asked her opinion.

  Wouldn’t it be nice if Lucas got drafted? He’s older than Claude, and without Lucas, Claude couldn’t tease her as cruelly.

  Maybe both of them will be drafted.

  “They’re taking the oldest of each family that has over two children, if they’re of age. I sent back that we would do our duty.” He laid the paper down on the table, took off his glasses, and looked up at her for the first time. “Did you hear the van pull up a few minutes ago?”

  She shook her head. “No, I was, um, washing.”

  What did that mean, the oldest of each family?

  “There are two men sitting in the living room. Off-worlders.” He looked back at the paper. “They’ve come to take you for training. I said you’d be available around sundown.”

  The second shock of the day was too much. She grabbed a chair and sat down, almost falling to the floor. “Me?”

  “Yes, you. You’re the oldest.”

  “But I’m small, even for a girl I’m small….”

  A smile played on his lips as he looked at her again. “Remember, the planetary council said you can’t legally discriminate between men and women. You’re the one to go, you’re still the oldest.”

  She squeezed her hands together, still trying to understand. “For how long? When do I come back? What…”

  “You don’t come back. At least, this paper says not until the crisis is over, not until the fighting’s over, and it’s been going on as long as I can remember.”

  “But,” her voice seemed small, “what about my farm?”

  “My farm,” he said. The smile remained on his face. “It’s my farm, and it’s going to my sons when I die.”

  “Legally, it’s mine,” said Cosette, frightened that he might cane her again. “I’m the oldest.”

  “If you’re a soldier, you don’t own anything.” He shrugged. “Maybe the fight will end. Maybe you will come back.” He waved the document at her. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

  “But why offer me up to them? You could have claimed I was unsuitable, that I’m not fit to be a soldier.”

  “You’re not fit to be a farmer, either.” The cold smile vanished. “We won’t miss you. Those boys of mine can learn to do for themselves.”

  “But…” She felt tears trying to fight their way out through the wall. “Father Auguste, you didn’t need to offer me up. Don’t you have any affection for me at all?”

  He waved away her question. “If you’d been my own, or if you’d been the youngest, it would be different, but don’t take it so personally. It’s a matter of property and business. Now go grab your things. The men are waiting.”

  She put her face in her hands. She had been born here. She had been raised here. She knew all the people in the small village. She had never traveled more than a day’s journey in her life, had only seen the spaceport once. How could she leave?

  The girl had kissed Gregory and he had kissed her back.

  How could she stay?

  Her legs trembled but she stood. She went to her room and threw a few items into her bag, including a couple of romance novels she had borrowed and her dirty work dress. Auguste watched, making sure that she took nothing of value, though there was nothing of value for her to take.

  She still had th
e fruit hidden in the bottom of the bag. It was a very, very small victory, but she was taking it.

  He led her into the living room.

  Two men with scowling faces stood there in black shirts and gray pants, with knives and pistols at their hips. They were twins, each one with a pair of heavy gold earrings, and thick gold bracelets on their wrists. Their hair was tied in back with red twine, and they wore black boots, scuffed and worn.

  Cosette’s head did not even come up to their shirt pockets.

  “This is her?” said one.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. The Union can’t be that desperate.”

  “She is the oldest,” said Auguste, bowing respectfully as he handed over her papers. “It is a great personal sacrifice to give up my eldest daughter. Promise me you’ll keep her safe?”

  “She’s going to war, old man, you know that.”

  Auguste pressed his hand against his chest and looked pained. “Her dead mother would weep in her grave if she knew it had come to this. Will you not promise to keep her safe?”

  “Yeah, sure. Safe.”

  The other twin addressed Cosette directly. “What’s in your bag?”

  She startled. She had been staring at them. They were not of her race, they were from another star, human, but separated by vast amounts of time and space. The corners of their jaws were wider, their foreheads broader, and their eyebrows shaded their black eyes. Their large rough hands reminded her of the roots of the ambrosia vines. “My bag? Um, just some personal items, books, and my other dress, my work dress.”

  “Leave the work dress. They’ll give you a uniform. You’ll just have to throw it out when you get there anyway.”

  They looked down at her like they expected to be obeyed, so she did obey. She pulled the dirty work dress out, embarrassed by its sweaty condition, and tossed it towards the kitchen.

  Let one of my stepbrothers clean it. Or burn it.

  “Hold out your arm.” One of the twins drew a metal bracelet from a pouch and clicked it around her wrist. He held up a silver rod. “Now listen carefully. If you walk away from this key, you’ll feel a tingle at ten meters, a shock at twenty, and at thirty you get electrocuted. You touch the key, you get electrocuted. It won’t kill you, but you won’t try it twice. When we deliver you to the Union, and we get paid our bounty, it gets removed and they’re the only ones that can remove it. Until then, you can’t run away. Got it?”