Fathers and Daughters

The morning sun drifted across Sol’s face, and as his eyes fluttered open, he found himself still clothed in the easy chair. Feeling disoriented and groggy, he checked his watch, and it read six-thirty. He had slept through the entire night. Sol assumed his daughter hadn’t wanted to disturb him when she returned and had gone to bed herself.

Meanwhile, Aeneas ventured into the atrium, where the morning sun bathed the space in a warm glow through the glass skylight above. She hoped to slip outside and not disturb her father, but she didn’t make it far when he emerged from his office, smiling at her.

“Thanks for not waking me up,” he remarked.

“Yeah, you seemed to need it,” Aeneas replied, attempting to hide her nervousness, though her face betrayed her true feelings. Sol sensed her unease and probed, “What’s the matter, honey? Going somewhere?”

“Do you remember Bend Nandstahl?”

“Ren and Entu’s son, sure I do. Why do you ask?”

“Well, we ran into each other yesterday,” she said as casually as she could.

Sol’s expression changed, and Aeneas could sense his discomfort.

“Where?” he inquired.

“Out beyond the Mars-E’las Aqueduct. The hill facing Olympus Mons,” she explained.

“The sacred territory of the Clan of the High Winds? You should never go there,” said Sol.

“We weren’t there long,” she responded swiftly before blurting out, “He and I are going to the Naul festival together today.”

Sol struggled, realizing the implications of his daughter and a Maur-tan being together and the problems it may cause. Ones he couldn’t fix. His unease didn’t revolve around Bend or prejudice, but the political ramifications and rising tensions between the two races. 

“It wouldn’t be a good idea right now.” Sol cautioned.

Aeneas stopped in her tracks, her face changing from pleasant to a scowl. 

“What are you saying?” she demanded.

“You don’t know him very well.”

“Dad, you’ve known the Sandals for years. True, Bend and I did not grow up together. After Mom died, you constantly protected me. Sometimes I felt trapped in my home.”

“You went to school beside the other children. I never held you back.”

“Yes, New Armstrong kids—Er-trals,” she pointed out.

“Don’t use Martian slang, young lady.”

“Bend is right; you look down on them. You think he is not good enough for me?” Aeneas confronted her father.

Sol headed into the open garden of the atrium, pushing through the plants to confront his daughter. He stood there before her, not mad but concerned and a bit frustrated—facing a conversation he never hoped to have.

“No, honey, not exactly.”

“Explain it to me; Mother saw past the differences,” she said.

“They are different in so many ways,” he reasoned.

“You can look beyond assumptions. What I see is strong and proud people ignored by us. And they have done well, I might add.”

“Stop. You don’t know them.”

“They have more of a right to be here than we do.” Aeneas breathed deep, her neck muscles tightening.

“Honey, this is all just a passing infatuation. You’ll forget about Bend once you’re back amongst your own people.”

“I am, Dad. You and Mom brought me up here. Mars is my world, not Earth. I won’t go there and marry someone you picked out for me.” she declared.

“Don’t talk to me in such a manner, young lady.”

“Mother would understand; she loved this planet and saw all the potential it holds if only the two races would work better together.”

Anger welled up inside him. He didn’t want to listen to this anymore. Sol leaned into his daughter and raised his voice. “I said enough! Go to your room.”

“I will not.”

Sol reared back and slapped her. The blow caught them both off guard. Almost at once, he regretted it and attempted to apologize. 

“Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to.”

Aeneas held her face, holding the tears at bay. 

“Yes, you did, and I am going,” she cried.

Before he could react, she darted away. He tried to grab her, but she fled across the room before he had a chance. She burst through the door, hopped inside the rover, and started the vehicle, backing into the street before Sol could catch her. He stood there in the drive, watching her speed off. 

His first instinct to go after her subsided as he reconsidered. Pursuing her would only exacerbate the situation. She possessed a headstrong nature, reminiscent of her mother. While this quality made him feel proud, it sometimes proved frustrating. Beyond the protective walls of the colony lay a world full of dangers, some she knew about, others far more ominous to contemplate. He could only hope Bend would safeguard her for the time being. 

Sol returned inside to his office wringing his hands, not knowing whether to be furious or scared. He stopped and gazed across the room at the painting of his wife Catherine hanging over the mantle of the fireplace. He considered her lovely features and the sadness he felt over her loss. Aeneas had her fiery eyes and that mischievous little grin she had always carried about her. Sol realized he could not risk losing her as well. He could not survive another emotional blow and had to find her. If she got mad, so be it. He leaned over his desk and pressed the small intercom switch connected to the security division of the colony. Sol hoped their disagreement about the mining contract wouldn’t still hinder his loyalty. 

“Nav, I need to see you right away,” he said.

“Yes, Sir, on my way,” Nav replied on the other end.

He released the button and walked over to the painting. He gazed up at it. Sol did not have to wait long before a knock came at the door.

“Enter.”

Nav entered the room in his usual utility uniform, exuding his typical air of professionalism. He walked directly to Sol and clasped his hands in front of him.

“You needed to see me, sir?”

“Yes, please sit down,” Sol answered, motioning for him to take a seat as he walked back and sat down behind his desk.

“You look troubled,” said Nav.

“I am—” Sol hesitated. The weight of what had transpired felt heavier now. Something struggled inside him, a reluctance to verbalize what haunted his thoughts. The unspoken fear lingered as if uttering it aloud would make it all too real. He summoned up his nerve and revealed what had happened. “Aeneas stormed out of the house this morning. We argued.”

The seasoned security officer maintained a composed exterior, masking any concern. A professional to the core, he understood the importance of projecting confidence and control. Studying the governor for a moment, he responded carefully. “Might I ask why?” Nav inquired, curious about the cause of their argument.

Sol, frustrated by the situation, leaned back in his chair. His frustration and torment manifested itself in the nervous act of chewing on his fingernails. “She insisted on going to the Naul Festival with Bend Nandstahl. She needs to remain here where she can be safe.” Sol asserted.

“You mean watched. Sir, she’s all grown up. Aeneas can make her own decisions. Besides, he is a good boy, and will look out for her.” replied Nav. Hoping to provide some reassurance.

Sol stood up fast and conveyed his deeper concerns. 

“You don’t understand. She is ruining her life by remaining here. She needs to go to college on Earth. There is a family. I know they have a son about her age, and I figured they might become friends.”

Nav, piecing together the situation, probed deeper.

“Close friends, as in marriage?”

“Yes, an arranged marriage can be a good thing for someone like her,” Sol answered.

Nav laughed at the absurdity of such a notion.

“No, you know I can’t go after her. The Naul festival is for Maur-tans. If I go storming in there, accompanied by a bunch of security personnel, it will incense them. I erased a Reval symbol from the terminal wall yesterday. We’ve already had problems, and now this new mining agreement could escalate things into an all-out war.

“I won’t make a dangerous situation worse. It would light a fire to a powder keg at the wrong moment.”

Sol acknowledged the wisdom of his security officer’s words and sank back into his chair. 

Nav offered him some reassurance. “Look, I’ll send one of my people to make sure she gets there and is in no danger. Upon returning, they’ll report back to me. It wouldn’t be good for them to linger too long.” Nav suggested.

“Yes, you’re right, of course,” he replied, resigned to the delicate situation at hand.

Nav rose from his seat and departed, leaving Sol feeling confused.

Aeneas sped away from New Armstrong, gripping the steering wheel tight. As the wind rushed past, she sniffled and wiped a tear from her eye. She and her father’s argument had overwhelmed her, and she had to escape. Her mind focused on the instinct of flight or fight. In her hurried departure, she had overlooked putting on her goggles. Slowing down a little, she pulled them out of the glove compartment and placed them over her eyes. Now protected, she continued her journey. Now, outside, the expansive horizon seemed to calm her frazzled nerves. 

Aeneas eased back and relaxed her grip on the wheel. She glanced over at the passenger seat. Making sure the breather mask, her purse, and tri-ox medication were there. She always stayed prepared before ever venturing outside. A valuable lesson instilled by her father–the importance of self-reliance. This aspect of her upbringing made it challenging for her to comprehend his behavior and attitude. Why did he doubt her ability to make the right decisions about her future? His unwavering opposition seemed to be a stark departure from his usual demeanor. While she had led a somewhat sheltered life, as most humans did, it was common for most Er-trals to venture from the confines of the colony though the exterior world remained mostly unexplored by many.

The multitude of thoughts swirling in her mind appeared overwhelming. And too much to think about first thing in the morning. This would be a good day. They were going to have fun and she would let nothing spoil it, not even her father, and she would not tell Bend about how he felt towards them. 

Aeneas resolved to immerse herself in the present, to enjoy herself, and to take pleasure in Bend’s company. A gentle smile graced her lips, rekindled by the refreshing breeze as her hair tousled in playful swirls.

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