Boabdil
Copyright© 2026 by Prince von Vlox
Chapter 9
FAMILIES RESIDENCE, BOABDIL
Tybi sat on a sun-warmed rock on the hilltop overlooking the residence. To her left, the west, was the beach. The sea beyond that sandy shore was calm, and the surf a quiet, lapping line of gentle waves. A light breeze barely ruffled the surface and blew a thin cloud of fine, sandy grit up from the dunes. There were a few clouds in the sky, along with the usual scavenger birds that lived along any shoreline.
Today she had bound her hair tight behind her ears. She wore a variation of the local clothing that seemed so much more comfortable to her than what Elisa wore. She’d made herself some extra clothes, using a much finer cloth than she had seen before to make herself a vest, skirt, and shirt. In some way, she felt she had to wear them.
The others, Elisa especially, asked her why she continued to dress like this. What could she tell them? They might have given her back her childhood memories, her family, her self, but that did not mean Corinn had disappeared. Tybi had been Corinn for so long that Corinn’s memories would never fade. How could she explain things like that when she didn’t really understand them herself? How could she tell them that she had to wear them?
When pressed, she would only shrug and say, “It reminds me of who I was, and who I sometimes still must be. Besides,” she would then add in the very practical tone that seemed to work with these people, “these clothes are comfortable.”
Elisa Davenport, Acting Eldest of the Residence, stood to the right, shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight. She kept tapping her fingers against the green of her uniform. Her attention was not focused on the beautiful view. She watched to the north where a crew finished inspecting the last of their work and moved to a flying vehicle of some kind. The vehicle lifted into the air and slid sideways before settling shelter behind a large berm.
“This will work,” Tybi said calmly, though it was clear she meant the words as a question.
Elisa nodded. “There have been a few changes since the last time you were on active duty,” she said. “We use imploder devices for this now, not explosive devices. We can control implosions better and there’s less debris to clean up afterward.”
“If you say so.”
“Any second now,” Elisa told her, smiling and looking north again.
A distant strobe light started flashing. Then, with more of an odd shake than anything else, the ground to the north simply collapsed. For more than six kilometers a long finger of subsidence and dust went inland, then curved south towards them. There was a disturbance in the water that stretched well out to sea. The ground beneath them vibrated noticeably and they could hear the roar as water poured in through the new opening in the land.
A brown, foaming wave sloshed, twisted, bent and dipped through the newly created channel, licking at the shore, carving out chunks and throwing up muddy water, rocks and other odds and ends. The ground quivered continuously as the wave surged inland. More charges went off, creating additional channels beneath the onslaught of water, dissipating some of its strength, focusing other parts of it. With a crash both heard and felt, the wave slammed into the berm that marked the end of the bay. Spray vaulted high into the air, silver and white in the afternoon light, and then cascaded down like a light rain, leaving little rivulets that dried quickly in the brown dirt.
“I take it there was some doubt if that ridge of dirt would stop the water,” Tybi said as she watched the wave crest on all sides of the new channel, then slosh back and forth like water agitated in a trough.
“There was,” Elisa replied. “The engineers told me the core and face would hold for sure after they heated it up to the point glass started forming. I had to believe their calculations, but there’s always that element of doubt until you see it happen.” Her eyes lost their focus as she checked in with crews inspecting the channel they had created. “It looks like everything went as planned,” she reported finally with a satisfied nod.
“Good.” Tybi rose and stretched. “If you have no need for me the rest of this afternoon, I am going to go riding. The horses need their exercise, and Borromeo cannot do it all by himself.”
“I wish you wouldn’t,” Elisa said as they turned and descended the hill.
“Are you afraid I cannot take care of myself?” Tybi asked, glancing at Elisa.
“Partly,” Elisa admitted. She flashed a quick smile. “Call me overprotective...”
“All right, I will. You’re overprotective.”
“ ... but I don’t want anything to happen to you. I can’t imagine what I would tell your mother. I’d rather deliver a micronuke to the Emperor all by myself.”
Tybi nodded. “All right, I will make sure nothing happens to me. Anyway, I am not planning on going far. I was thinking of just riding up and down the beach.”
Elisa looked at her, frowning. “There are times I can’t tell if you are Corinn or Tybi,” she said at last.
“There are times I cannot tell, either.” Tybi nodded seriously. “Sometimes I am one, sometimes I am the other.” She paused, considering. She could feel Corinn “looking” over her shoulder. “There are times I need to be mostly Corinn, just as there are times I need to be mostly Tybi. It can be very confusing,” she added unnecessarily.
“That’s an understatement and a half.” They resumed picking their way down the hill. “Back to the paperwork,” Elisa sighed as they came to the path that led to her office.
Tybi looked at Elisa skeptically. “You should take time off.”
“Too busy.”
“When have you gone surf riding?” Tybi asked, as if she hadn’t heard.
“Surf riding?”
“You ride a horse in the fringes of the water. There’s lots of spray, you get soaked, and the horses get soaked. The horses love it, and I think you would, too. When I was a girl, I did a lot of surf riding. It is one of the few memories I definitely retained of my childhood.”
“Tybi...”
“Post guards if you want,” Tybi said. “If you must stay in contact, have someone standing on the beach with a radio. It would do you good to get out of the office and have some fun. The Eldest is responsible to everyone for her own well-being just as she is for theirs.”
Elisa looked at her in silence for several seconds. “Why not?” she asked at last. “You’re right. Nobody has taken any time off since we landed, and the beginning of the harbor is a good enough excuse to take some time off. Besides, the final reports won’t be available for hours.” She looked at Tybi. “That’s a very good idea.”
“I doubt we have enough horses for everybody,” Tybi warned.
“Not everybody can ride, and we will take turns so there is always someone on duty.” Elisa headed for her office. Tybi watched her go, and then turned toward the stables.
“How are the horses?” she asked Borromeo a few minutes later. He and Herzerr had completely rebuilt the stable, adding secure walls, a secure roof, and a solid fence. There were two water troughs out front, and someone had laid pipe for him from the irrigation canal. There were things that had to be finished; there were only three completed stalls, and the room for the tack wasn’t even started. But compared to what they’d started with, the improvements were stunning.
She saw the mare she had ridden for days on end through the waste. Automatically, she ran her hand over the mare’s gleaming coat, and then slipped her a botter. The mare closed her eyes contentedly as she chewed on the treat.
“Getting fat and lazy,” Borromeo said. He slapped his belly. “So am I.”
“Have you ever gone surf riding?” She scratched the horse along the jawline.
Borromeo stared at her in judicious silence for a bit. “Not since I was a boy,” he said at last. “Bareback or with a saddlepad?”
“A saddlepad? I didn’t know you so enjoyed cleaning tack, Borromeo. Certainly, if it would make you happy, by all means, let us use saddlepads.”
The man laughed. He slipped halters on two of the horses and led them out of the corral. In one smooth motion that belied his years and injured leg, he vaulted onto the horse’s back. Tybi mounted a little more demurely, making sure to tuck her skirt under her legs so Borromeo wouldn’t be shocked by anything he shouldn’t see. The still-healing burns on her legs felt a little tender brushing against the mare’s hide, but after a moment, that discomfort faded. It would have been worse with a saddlepad. She was smiling as they picked their way up the slope that separated them from the sea.
“Nice day for a ride,” Borromeo said as they topped the rise and stopped. He stared curiously at the activity up the beach. “What was that all about? I felt the ground shake, and the horses were very nervous.”
“They are digging a channel to make a harbor,” she said at last, trying to find a way to explain what had happened to him. “They use something like gunpowder, but not quite the same. For one thing, it can work underwater.”
He stared at the roiling water for a while. “When I was younger, before I first saw you, I journeyed to the north. There was a Clan Lord there who used gunpowder to create a lake. He put a large amount of it in a hillside above a stream, and then exploded it. It didn’t entirely block the stream, of course, but it blocked enough of it that a large lake formed. He then used that water to irrigate his crops.”
“This is something like that,” Tybi agreed.
“And they’re making a harbor that will be safe for ships?”
She nodded. “That is what I understand.”
He looked to the north one last time, and then looked back at her, shaking his head. “A Holding full of star women,” he said, grudging admiration in his voice. “Just as dangerous as a whole lot of gunpowder in one place.” He kicked his horse and trotted down the beach.
Tybi followed him, cantering with a slow rocking gait that she knew this horse could keep up for hours. They drew rein just short of the surf line.
He looked around, grinning. “Good day for a ride,” he called.
“Every day is a good day for a ride if you don’t have any chores,” Tybi replied.
As one, they turned. They had an empty beach in front of them. Tybi could feel her horse quiver with excitement, sensing what they were about to do. With a cry, Borromeo took off down the beach. Tybi was right behind him. Breathlessly, they pounded the length of the beach, spray and sand showering in all directions. Finally, after most of two kilometers, they drew rein, both laughing wildly, their legs soaked. The horses were breathing hard, prancing in their excitement. They wanted to continue.
“Oh!” Borromeo called. “I haven’t done that since I was...” He laughed. “I haven’t done that in too long, far too long.”
Tybi’s smile faded slightly. “I have not been permitted to do this for too long,” she said wistfully. And then she relaxed. “But now that I can, this is fun.”
“We should do this more often.”
“Race you again,” she called, and took off back down the beach. He was right behind her, and they were both laughing as they drew rein. The horses were bucking a little in their excitement. Tybi rode hers up as it reared, instinctive skills helping her stay on the mare’s back.
“You did that quite well,” Borromeo said, admiringly.
“Yes,” she acknowledged. She didn’t want to revisit the thought that a star woman shouldn’t be riding. “Once more?” She thumped her horse with her heel, shouting her laughter at the wind, as they tore through the surf one more time.
They were breathing the horses when they heard a commotion behind them. Elisa Davenport and her horse came trotting through a gap in the dunes, her arms and legs bouncing in all directions. From the way her hands clutched the reins, and from the set look on her face, it was obvious Elisa was barely clinging to the saddlepad. Herzerr, a tolerant grin on his face, paced his horse carefully behind her and off to one side. Clearly, her discomfort on horseback reassured him that even star women who controlled thunder weapons could be unused to riding.
“She disappoints me,” Borromeo said with a quiet laugh. “Here I thought all star women could ride.”
Trying to hide her own mirth, Tybi looked over at Borromeo. “Can all of the men of the Clan ride equally well?”
“You call that riding?”
“I call that clinging desperately to the back of a tired old mare in hopes that she doesn’t sneeze and shake the rider off.” Corinn whispered grimly in the back of her mind that somebody must teach the Marine Eldest how to ride a horse properly, or make certain no leader of any Clan ever saw her on one.
“Ho, Elisa!” Borromeo called. “Give that mighty beast a rest. You’ll run it into the ground.”
Elisa sawed desperately at the reins, trying to stop the horse. The mare, one of the more placid creatures in their herd, ignored her and stopped on its own when it drew abreast of the other horses.
“I haven’t ridden for years,” Elisa gasped. Her face was flushed, and her knuckles were white as she clung to the saddlepad with both hands. “I thought I still could.”
“Did you do much riding when you were younger?” Tybi asked. She caught Herzerr’s eye and winked. He was trying very hard not to laugh.
“A couple of summer vacation trips.” Elisa shrugged. “You know, several days out and back. I thought riding was something you never forgot how to do.”
Herzerr rolled his eyes. Borromeo slumped forward over his horse’s neck, trying to make his sudden explosion of laughter seem like a fit of coughing. Tybi smothered her own grin. “Your skill on horseback is obvious,” she assured the Marine Eldest.
All four sat for a quiet moment, staring out at the sparkling water of the ocean. Herzerr stretched, obviously getting the kinks out of his back. “It feels good to be on the back of a horse again,” he said. He took off down the beach at a crisp trot. Borromeo grinned and took off after him.
Tybi scanned around. “All right,” she said. “Where are the guards?”
Elisa glanced upwards. “Overhead, and two at either end of the beach. Plus one in the middle here.”
“You don’t trust them, do you?”
“No,” Elisa said simply, “I don’t.” She watched the two men splashing through the surf. “I’m not sure I could dare try that. I’m barely staying on this beast as it is.”
Tybi reached over and rubbed the horse affectionately. “Ah, she’s just a big sweetheart. Riding her is like sitting in a rocking chair.”
“If you say so.”
“Come on, follow me.” She considered the horse, and remembered the way Elisa looked as she came over the dunes. “Don’t bother with the reins, she will follow anyway.” Tybi trotted down the beach with Elisa’s mare two paces to one side and trailing her. “Now, hold tight,” Tybi called as they reached the edge of the water. She kicked the pace up to a slow canter.
They splashed through the edge of the water, barely getting the horse’s hooves wet, and never moving faster than a gentle canter. Tybi thought the pace unbearably slow, but from the look on Elisa’s face, she knew it had to seem fast to the other woman. Borromeo and Herzerr dashed past, hooting and hollering. After a few hundred meters, Tybi reluctantly turned back onto the dry sand and pulled up.
“I see what you mean,” Elisa gasped. “That was fun.”
Tybi glanced back. They had come about 500 meters. “Again?”
“Sure.” Elisa’s expression was grim, but she seemed determined to have “fun” again.
They made one more trip down the beach. When they drew rein, Elisa gratefully slipped out of the saddle. As her feet touched the ground, the relief on her face was evident. “I don’t know how you can stay on that animal’s back,” she gasped.
“Years of practice,” Tybi said. “I rode a lot as a young girl. My whole body remembers. It’s a muscle memory, so that the memory wipe stuff didn’t destroy it.”
The radio on Elisa’s belt hooted. Elisa twisted and pressed the back of her hand against it. Her lips moved slightly as she talked to whoever was calling. “Got to get back to the office,” she explained. “Someone’s coming.”
Instinctively, Tybi looked around. She couldn’t see inland from here, but whoever was approaching should certainly be visible if they were that close.
“No,” Elisa said. She gestured vertically. “Visitors from up above.” She looked around at the beautiful day. “You’d better get those two back out of sight,” she added. “The gals down here are used to them, in a way, but people from upstairs might not be. And we have a ... a reaction to seeing men out in the open.”
“How much time do I have?” Tybi asked.
“Not long.” Elisa sighed and headed back towards the corral, leading her horse.
Tybi watched her and then headed back to the surf. There should be time for one more dash, maybe two. And then she’d have to get the men out of sight. She had a fuzzy bit of that memory Elisa mentioned. Letting men be in the open air was wrong, somehow, but that was just a distant itch compared to Corinn’s more recent and entirely different memories of men.
She and the two men were in the stables grooming their horses when one of the younger Marines came looking for her. “Second Officer Davenport would like to see you, Ma’am,” the young woman said.
“I’ll be right there,” Tybi replied without looking up, still brushing the horse. She stepped back, hands on her hips, and gave the horse one last inspection. “You’re a fat, lazy scrapfeeder,” she told the animal. The horse stared at her blankly, swishing its tail. “They never listen,” she said as she tossed the brush in its bucket and hung it up on a wall hook.
“Oh, they listen,” Herzerr assured her. He was sitting on another bucket, examining a hoof. “They just don’t care. You know that.”
“Especially because they have the likes of us to coddle them.” Tybi smiled. She dried her hands on a cloth rag. “All right,” she told the young Marine. “Let me change, first, so I don’t smell of sea water and horses.”
When she entered the Administration Building, she could hear a low-voiced conversation in Elisa’s office. She looked inquiringly at the young Marine. The girl shrugged one-handed, a gesture that reminded Corinn of Scar, a star woman in the Clan holding who had been named for the horrid burn across her face. This Marine looked a lot like Scar, but without the burn. Corinn wished she could put them side by side and look again. Maybe she would have a chance to do that soon.
The voices in Elisa’s office stopped. Tybi tapped on the door. “You asked for me?” Elisa looked up and smiled. There was something about that smile, like someone had just given her a present. Tybi could see two others in Elisa’s office, an older naval officer with a burn worse than Scar’s across her face, iron in her hair and steel in her eyes. Corinn recognized another Eldest instantly, and nodded respectfully. This was one who would make the nastiest Clan Lord back up a step. That woman’s gaze sharpened, but her face remained impassive otherwise. There was a Marine sitting on the other side of the naval officer that Tybi couldn’t see clearly.
“Come on in,” Elisa said, grinning broadly and waving towards an empty chair. She turned back to the two who were already seated. “This is--” She was interrupted by a startled gasp.
The Marine was suddenly standing, staring at Tybi, one hand half-raised as if to reach out and touch her. For a moment Tybi felt herself sway. Her vision seemed to narrow until she saw only the Marine facing her. She could feel the blood hammering behind her eyes. The face ... it was like looking in a mirror. Tybi had seen that face in a mirror. The Marine’s hand stretched out for her hesitantly, endlessly, as if in a dream. Tybi felt her own hand coming up ... reaching ... touching. It was like seeing herself.
The other’s hand closed around hers. It was like an electric spark leaped between them. A door in the ragged house of her memories slammed open, a door into a place that seemed even more like dreamstuff than Home. Memories tumbled out, a flood of images, sounds, smells, and voices. Tybi saw her own face, but not quite, her own face in front of her, around her, again and again. Younger, without the lines, but the eyes, the cheeks, the chin, the nose, the look, the same face, the same expression, years ago, years that suddenly vanished as if they had never been. Sib ... this was her sib!
“Tybi?” the other asked in that suddenly familiar voice, crackling with emotions run wild.
Tybi nodded slowly, her grip on the other’s hand tightening. She knew this woman’s face better than she knew her own. Names whispered out of her memory, fluttered through her mind. There was no doubt who this must be.
“S-Sandra.” The word, the name was so hard to say, it had been so long, but the face was there, the name was there, her sib was there and she knew who this was, this other part of her heart, utterly lost and now hers again. The years ... suddenly it was like an ache she hadn’t known she’d had, an ache she had slowly grown used to over so many ugly years, an ache that had covered up something beautiful and real and was now gone.
“Sandra!” She said the name again, savoring the sound of it, the joy of it, suddenly sure, suddenly whole again. Walls came tumbling down in the musty corridors of her mind; memories she had not understood were suddenly missing were hers again.
“Tybi. It ... it’s really ... you.” The voice was barely a trembling whisper. Tears of joy streaked that beloved face, Sandra’s face.