Several months have passed. Now, I’m sitting in a drab waiting room of a municipal building. Kehan is in some office, speaking with a high-ranking official about my mother’s situation. Reaching this point hasn’t been easy.
After Kehan and I became a couple, she resumed her relentless way of pushing me to my limits. But this time, it felt different. I knew she was doing it out of love, and I willingly accepted it as my own choice to comply. She explained that my asylum hearing had to be extraordinary to improve my chances of reconnecting with my mom. I needed to convince the officials of my unwavering loyalty to the Manides because only then would decision-makers risk the fragile truce to help us join a rescue program on Earth. Kehan had mentioned long ago how we could hitch a ride on another, more critical project, and that plan was still in motion. Steve, part of the application team, was supporting me—an invaluable factor for those deciding my fate.
So, what did I have to do? I threw myself into learning the language, studying like a maniac. Every day, I spent thirty minutes in mandatory Manidian conversations with Kehan. At first, I insisted on making breakfast and lunch, but eventually, Kehan took over breakfast so I could sleep longer after long nights of studying.
But our relationship wasn’t just about her whipping me into shape. Over time, another side of us emerged. Each evening, we took time to sit together on the terrace bench, watching the jungle light up with brilliant shades of orange and purple as the evening sky shifted. We’d talk about everything, and gradually, she began to share stories about her parents. At first, she was hesitant, but as she opened up, I became the first person to truly listen. When she finally shared about their illness and eventual loss, she spent the entire evening crying in my arms. I was profoundly grateful to be there for her—this woman who was usually tough as nails, yet had chosen to be with me, a guy who stumbled onto her planet through a series of ugly events. She saw in me someone who could understand her pain. And through it all, she helped me find my footing in this alien world.
The hearing in court, one year after I’d hit rock bottom and wished for death, went as well as it possibly could. The judge—the same one from last time—was visibly stunned by my transformation. I apologized to everyone, expressed my gratitude, and vowed to become a valuable member of their society.
It was enough to keep our project about my mother alive. And now, here I sit, waiting for Kehan to return from that office where she’s working to get the contact program for my mom into motion.
Two full hours pass before she finally emerges.
She strides toward me with long, purposeful steps. The seriousness on her face makes me rise from my seat in the waiting room, my eyes widening in anticipation of what she has to say.
"It’s happening. They agreed," Kehan informs me, her voice flat, as if it weren’t good news.
I furrow my brow. "Yeah, and…?"
She sighs and hands me a paper file. "Yeah, and it’ll be in three years."
Dumbfounded, I take the file. "Three years?!"
Hoarsely, she confirms, "Yes."
A heavy silence sways between us. I stare down at the file in my hands. It takes a moment before I manage to mumble, "Why?"
She shifts her footing, takes a slow breath, then exhales, "They said you need to hold a sufficient job position during the space journey. The whole project is costly and delicate. If you complete basic biogenetics training with a specialty in bryozoa, you might secure a spot on the next flight. That would be in three years—if you study hard and heavy."
She points at the file. "Their recommendation is in there. It has all the specifications for that option."
My mind tumbles over the information. It goes without saying, yet I have to say it anyway. "But three years will hit my mother hard. She’ll have assumed I was dead long ago."
Kehan nods, her expression tinged with sorrow. "That will be the case."
I let my arms hang loose and look up at her. "It’s going to be a shock when I suddenly show up."
She nods again, slowly. "It might be."
My thoughts scramble, racing in circles. Hesitantly, I continue, "Is it even wise? To confront her like that? Am I doing the right thing?"
She meets my gaze, her expression still sad. "I don’t know. I don’t know her well enough to say."
I look back at the file in my hand. It’s still closed. Useless in its current state, but I cling to it like an anchor.
"You know, I’m not sure I can decide what’s right or wrong in this case. Maybe I just want to see her for selfish reasons. Because I can’t move on knowing she’s still mourning me. Maybe it’s reckless—to return like some ghost, risen from the dead, arriving from an enemy planet in secret. But then again… Thinking about everything she did for me, how she was always there for me in that brutal society we lived in, I can’t just leave it like this.
Wise or not, she’s worth the trouble. She’s worth the fallout. Maybe my reasons are selfish. But damn it, she’s my mother. If I have the chance, I have to take it."
Angrily, I glare at Kehan—not at her, really, but at fate. She holds my gaze, calm and unwavering. Then, with the faintest smile, she says,
"Well then, it’s settled."
And with a knowing look, she adds,
"The dead will rise."
The End. I hope you enjoyed it.
Maybe one day, the novel Of Common Clause will have a sequel, and we might meet Kehan, Eric, and Steve again—as you may have guessed during this final chapter.
Thank you so much for reading!