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Back Daughter of Eden
Chapters (68)
  1. Title page
  2. Dedication
  3. Part I
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-one
  25. Twenty-two
  26. Twenty-three
  27. Twenty-four
  28. Twenty-five
  29. GAIA YOUNG. SUBJECTIVE IMPRESSIONS.MISSION DAY 20. 20:25 MT.
  30. Part II
  31. Twenty-six
  32. Twenty-seven
  33. Twenty-eight
  34. Twenty-nine
  35. Thirty
  36. Thirty-one
  37. Thirty-two
  38. Thirty-three
  39. Thirty-four
  40. Thirty-five
  41. Thirty-six
  42. Thirty-seven
  43. GAIA YOUNG. SUBJECTIVE IMPRESSIONS.MISSION DAY 22. 20:05 MT.
  44. Thirty-eight
  45. Thirty-nine
  46. Forty
  47. Forty-one
  48. GAIA YOUNG. SUBJECTIVE IMPRESSIONS.MISSION DAY 25. 15:30 MT.
  49. Forty-two
  50. Forty-three
  51. Forty-four
  52. Forty-five
  53. Forty-six
  54. Forty-seven
  55. Forty-eight
  56. Forty-nine
  57. Fifty
  58. Fifty-one
  59. Fifty-two
  60. Fifty-three
  61. Fifty-four
  62. Part III
  63. Fifty-five
  64. Fifty-six
  65. Fifty-seven
  66. Fifty-eight
  67. Also by Chris Beckett
  68. Copyright page

I liked doing all that for her. I still couldn’t believe that of all the people she could have chosen to look after her, from all across the Davidfolk Ground, she’d picked ordinary old me: batfaced Angie from Knee Tree Grounds. I was proud proud of that, desperate desperate to live up to it, afraid afraid that I wouldn’t. But it was a strange life for me, all the same. The guards that rode with us came and went, changing over whenever we passed from the ground of one guard leader into the ground of another, and there was no one I could grow to know and feel at home with apart from Mary herself. It felt lonely lonely sometimes. I missed my family and my old friends. And sometimes, however much I tried not to, I couldn’t help thinking of my friend Starlight and imagining the horror of her last moments, and it was like someone had shoved a spear through me, and I was writhing round on the tip of it, with no one anywhere to help me. But I still loved Mary, I still respected her, I still admired how hard she worked to hear what Mother Gela wanted to say and pass on her messages to the Davidfolk, I still liked how she hugged me and kissed my cheek, and told me I was beautiful and smart.

And yet I held things back from her. I didn’t tell her I’d heard the Secret Story. I didn’t tell her about Starlight and what she’d done. I didn’t tell her I was proud of Starlight for becoming the Ringwearer of New Earth, even if that did mean wearing the stolen ring. I didn’t tell her that I even felt proud of her for speaking the words of the Secret Story out loud. (How brave that had been, when the Johnfolk hated those words every bit as much as the Davidfolk, and you could be thrown into a fire for saying them!) I didn’t tell her about Starlight’s death, or about how I grieved for her.

I was often angry with myself for not telling her these things. I often told myself I was a coward, and that I was a fool to myself. I told myself I should trust Mary. I reminded myself what she’d said about how, deep down, we always know when we’re doing the wrong thing and always feel relieved when we do the right thing, however scary it might be. I even told myself that holding these things back from her was like holding them back from Mother Gela herself.