Parents

James and Iskira Neetkins sat in their living room on Planet Mars, staring speechless at the face of Neetra on the viewscreen wall.

“I had to tell you about this,” Neetra continued, in a voice that was just as sad as her mother and father were. “Not least of all because she’s still out there. There’s a whole lifetime of anger and hate driving Phoenix Prime on, against Phoenix, against all of us. We don’t know what her next move will be, but we need to be prepared for it when it comes.”

Finally, Iskira looked up and pushed back her long purple hair. “My small Neetra, what of our Phoenix?” she asked weakly. “Where is she? If she can come to the viewer, share in this with us, let us try to ease her distress…”

Neetra sighed.

“She’s not ready to talk to you yet, Mum,” she told her, as gently as she could. “This whole thing has hit her hard. There are…mixed feelings, about both of you, the experiment, and the way all this began. Since it happened she’s been spending her time with Dylan, or helping Bret and Amy with their treatment. I told her I was getting in touch with you today, but, well…”

Neetra’s words tailed off.

“Give her time, OK?” was the only conclusion she could think of.

James put his arm around Iskira’s shoulders, and they drew together. They did not speak or look at each other.

“Ye did right by telling us aboot this, Neetra me love,” James said at last. “As soon as ye hear anything new, anything at a’…”

Neetra reassured her father she’d contact them at once, and then, after they had said their goodbyes, she closed the communication channel. A dead and black viewscreen faced the parents.

“My husband, what have we done?” Iskira asked quietly. “How could we have committed such an oversight?”

James held up his hands in a helpless gesture. “The clones didna gie us much chance tae run tests on ’em, love,” said he. “It was as much as we could dae tae seal the parts o’ the castle they’d overrun, before they burnt us alive! There was nothing tae indicate the original Phoenix hadnae been mutated the same way as her duplicates. We’re scientists, Iskira, what could we dae but make a conclusion based on the ainly evidence we had?”

“But our conclusion was wrong, and our daughter paid the price,” Iskira declared. “Now she has returned to take her terrible revenge. James, why did we ever build that accursed transporter, or bring our daughters near it?”

“It was Pre-Nottingham Earth, Iskira,” he replied, gazing out of the window at the red mountains and star-studded sky in the distance. “Things werenae like they are today. All that fighting, all that crime and unrest…and we were jist trying to help, in oor own way. If we’d succeeded it would hae meant unlimited free travel tae anywhere in the universe through the power o’ anti-matter, and think o’ how much that would hae changed the waarld. No more wars o’er dwindling resources, intergalactic contact years before The Four Heroes’ time…I’m no’ trying tae justify what we ended up daeing. But we had the best o’ intentions.”

“The best of intentions,” Iskira repeated tonelessly. “And the transporter changed two of our children into deadly threats to all that The Four Heroes strove to create, first Carmilla and now, we learn, Phoenix too. Our Feeder Ray, which was meant to fortify Planet Earth against the Martian invasion, came close to destroying it instead. Then there is Dimension Borg, designed for the sole purpose of reuniting our scattered loved ones, and look at what he became. Yes, we always have the best of intentions.”

She sank down onto the couch as if all her strength was gone.

“I knew from childhood that a weapon of mass destruction took away everything my people possessed,” Iskira went on, staring at her hands and speaking more to herself than to James. “In my youth and idealism, I fancied it my mission to oppose all such inventions and the warmongers who built them. I even cast Irwin aside, broke our engagement, because I believed he had become such a man. Now I see that my life’s work has produced weapons more fearsome than any I accused him of devising. Perhaps the things I hated were not in him after all, but in me.”

If Iskira had hoped for sympathy and support from her husband in response to this statement, she was to be disappointed. A sudden chill descended on the living room that had nothing to do with the news of Phoenix Prime.

“And why wid ye mention Mendelssohn jist now?” James asked, his voice slow and utterly merciless.

Iskira flew to her feet, her purple eyes ablaze, fury etched on her face. “Is that all you can think of?” she flung at him. “Petty jealousies and weak-minded insecurity, at a time when your strength is needed more than ever?”

“Ye werenae there in that power core, Iskira! Ye didnae hear the things he said to me!” James roared in reply. “Called me a coward, blamed me for what Dimension Borg did, as good as told me ye were wrang tae choose me o’er him! Yes, oor children need us both now. But they dinnae need that outsider, that miserable old man, who keeps hanging around oor family because he still hopes you’ll…”

His voice caught in his throat, as all at once he realised he’d gone too far. Iskira was looking at the floor by now, all her fire gone, seeming close to tears.

“Iskira, me love…” James began, and reached for her.

Her hand shot out in warning before he was even within arm’s length. “No,” she snapped. “What good would that do, now your words are said?”

“I’m only trying tae make things better, Iskira,” he attempted feebly.

She did not meet his ardent gaze. “Then let me be alone for a time,” was her answer, and with that, she turned and left the room.