thinking of the boat and the dry and distant sanctuary of Guochang.
Ndege had prepared chai for the two of them. She took a sip, pursed her lips in a habit of familiar distaste. Ndege, who had been born on Zanzibar , maintained that boiled water always tasted wrong on Crucible. Goma had learned to humour her, but the fact was that sooner or later water tasted like water. How long had her mother been on Crucible, that she could not learn to like the taste of it?
‘He’s a fool.’
‘But a fool with the medical authorisation to do whatever he wants. Anyway, you shouldn’t speak ill of your brother.’
‘He’s still a fool.’
‘He’s only doing this out of some misguided sense of obligation.’ Goma worked at her own tea. ‘Since I’m going in your place and he can’t do anything about it, he feels he has to be there to take care of me. I can’t blame him for that. He’s wrong, of course – I don’t need him looking over my shoulder – but I can’t begrudge him the adventure.’
‘No good will come of it.’
‘Then you try arguing him out of it.’
‘Not much chance of that, Mposi’s like an asteroid – once he’s set on a course, there’s not much to be done.’
‘If only we could swap Ru for Mposi, both our problems would be solved. How are things with Ru, by the way?’
Goma studied her mother’s face, searching for clues as to the intent behind the question. There were lots of new lines lately, complicating the map.
‘Nothing’s changed. I’d have told you if something had.’
‘But you still speak to each other?’
‘We’re colleagues. We work on the same project. It would be difficult not to speak.’
‘I mean as wife and wife.’
‘What do you want me to say – that it’s all fine between us?’
‘It looked like it was, to begin with. You said Ru was accepting of your decision.’
‘Maybe she was, at first.’
‘So what changed?’
Goma worked at her chai. She thought, for a second, of finishing it in a gulp and storming out. Her mother had requested – no, demanded – this meeting. It had come at an awkward time and Goma had struggled to alter her plans to accommodate it. She assumed Ndege had something more important on her mind than rubbing salt into recent wounds.
‘Ru was just deluding herself, that’s all. Can we talk about something else?’
‘I’d rather we talked about Ru.’
Recognising that she was now too deep into the conversation to back out gracefully, Goma said, ‘When there was a chance of the expedition losing approval, Ru thought she could talk me out of it gradually, or trusted I’d eventually lose my nerve. But it’s going ahead, and I haven’t changed my mind.’
‘It’s my fault – I should have been more steadfast, refused to let you and Mposi talk me out of the expedition.’
‘None of it’s your fault. It was always a bad idea, you going. I’m your daughter – why shouldn’t I stand up in your place? I’ve even had the medical examination – I’m as fit as any skipover subject. You’d never have passed the first test. When you failed – as you would have – we’d be exactly where we are now, with me going in your place.’
‘I just wish something would persuade her.’
‘It doesn’t matter what Ru decides now. You know how sick she’s made herself. Her nervous system’s a wreck – she neglected the medicines for too long, and now it’s a case of patching up the damage. She hasn’t been formally tested, but my guess is she wouldn’t obtain skipover consent. It’ll be hard enough for Mposi.’
‘Chiku and Noah put us through skipover many times aboard Zanzibar ,’ Ndege said. ‘It was hard. I won’t lie. Like dying back into life every single time. You never get used to it. But it would still be good if you and Ru came to some understanding, so that you could at least be friends again. I can’t bear the thought of you parting with this distance between you.’
‘I don’t think there’s
Ndege had prepared chai for the two of them. She took a sip, pursed her lips in a habit of familiar distaste. Ndege, who had been born on Zanzibar , maintained that boiled water always tasted wrong on Crucible. Goma had learned to humour her, but the fact was that sooner or later water tasted like water. How long had her mother been on Crucible, that she could not learn to like the taste of it?
‘He’s a fool.’
‘But a fool with the medical authorisation to do whatever he wants. Anyway, you shouldn’t speak ill of your brother.’
‘He’s still a fool.’
‘He’s only doing this out of some misguided sense of obligation.’ Goma worked at her own tea. ‘Since I’m going in your place and he can’t do anything about it, he feels he has to be there to take care of me. I can’t blame him for that. He’s wrong, of course – I don’t need him looking over my shoulder – but I can’t begrudge him the adventure.’
‘No good will come of it.’
‘Then you try arguing him out of it.’
‘Not much chance of that, Mposi’s like an asteroid – once he’s set on a course, there’s not much to be done.’
‘If only we could swap Ru for Mposi, both our problems would be solved. How are things with Ru, by the way?’
Goma studied her mother’s face, searching for clues as to the intent behind the question. There were lots of new lines lately, complicating the map.
‘Nothing’s changed. I’d have told you if something had.’
‘But you still speak to each other?’
‘We’re colleagues. We work on the same project. It would be difficult not to speak.’
‘I mean as wife and wife.’
‘What do you want me to say – that it’s all fine between us?’
‘It looked like it was, to begin with. You said Ru was accepting of your decision.’
‘Maybe she was, at first.’
‘So what changed?’
Goma worked at her chai. She thought, for a second, of finishing it in a gulp and storming out. Her mother had requested – no, demanded – this meeting. It had come at an awkward time and Goma had struggled to alter her plans to accommodate it. She assumed Ndege had something more important on her mind than rubbing salt into recent wounds.
‘Ru was just deluding herself, that’s all. Can we talk about something else?’
‘I’d rather we talked about Ru.’
Recognising that she was now too deep into the conversation to back out gracefully, Goma said, ‘When there was a chance of the expedition losing approval, Ru thought she could talk me out of it gradually, or trusted I’d eventually lose my nerve. But it’s going ahead, and I haven’t changed my mind.’
‘It’s my fault – I should have been more steadfast, refused to let you and Mposi talk me out of the expedition.’
‘None of it’s your fault. It was always a bad idea, you going. I’m your daughter – why shouldn’t I stand up in your place? I’ve even had the medical examination – I’m as fit as any skipover subject. You’d never have passed the first test. When you failed – as you would have – we’d be exactly where we are now, with me going in your place.’
‘I just wish something would persuade her.’
‘It doesn’t matter what Ru decides now. You know how sick she’s made herself. Her nervous system’s a wreck – she neglected the medicines for too long, and now it’s a case of patching up the damage. She hasn’t been formally tested, but my guess is she wouldn’t obtain skipover consent. It’ll be hard enough for Mposi.’
‘Chiku and Noah put us through skipover many times aboard Zanzibar ,’ Ndege said. ‘It was hard. I won’t lie. Like dying back into life every single time. You never get used to it. But it would still be good if you and Ru came to some understanding, so that you could at least be friends again. I can’t bear the thought of you parting with this distance between you.’
‘I don’t think there’s
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