Peter pressed his ear gently against the woman's slightly rounded belly. He held his breath and listened carefully, but all he could hear was the sound of her intestines moving.
Peter said, a little disappointed:
"I can't hear the baby at all."
The woman reached out and gently stroked Peter's smooth black hair. Bending down, she kissed little Peter's forehead with her warm, soft lips.
"Silly boy, it's only been three months. How could you possibly hear anything?"
She stroked Peter's face with her slender fingers and said gently:
"In another six months, you'll have a little brother or sister. As the big brother, you have to protect them. Peter, I'm going to make dinner now. Go do your homework first."
The woman turned and walked toward the kitchen.
Peter went to his desk and took his homework out of the bag slung over his shoulder. He opened his textbook and quickly worked through the math problems. He was always fast, and the Gothian writing assignment that followed was even easier.
His teachers all said he was an excellent student who would grow up to be a scholar, perhaps a doctor, or maybe a PDF officer like his father. Though his father was only a low-ranking officer, Peter wanted to be an architect. He wanted to design tall houses so everyone back home could live in a big one.
Soon, Peter caught the scent of bread baking, mingled with the creamy aroma of cheese. His mother brought dinner to the table: bread with a thick cheese and vegetable soup, and a plate of fresh figs.
Peter scooped up a spoonful of the cheesy vegetable soup and put it in his mouth, savoring its rich flavor as his teeth ground the lentils and cabbage.
At dinner, the woman spoke first:
"Your father's gone back to the barracks again. They're holding a training exercise, and it might last a month."
Peter just tore off some bread and dipped it in the soup. He nodded and murmured:
"Mm."
Peter kept his head down as he ate. He couldn't say why, but he sensed that tonight's atmosphere was a little different from usual.
"Peter, I heard something."
The woman thought it was time to have a talk with him:
"I heard you scared a girl at school and made her cry."
Peter knew what his mother meant. His hand stopped as he was scooping up soup. He didn't dare look her in the eye, but still insisted:
"I didn't. I was just teasing her."
His mother frowned, her delicate brows knitting with displeasure.
"Peter, your friend was frightened when she started bleeding down there. She shared that secret with you, and you told her she would bleed to death."
Peter lowered his head and buried his face deep in his bowl.
"I'm sorry, Mama..."
The woman leaned across the table and kissed Peter's forehead again as she taught him a lesson:
"You have to be honest, Peter. Good boys don't lie."
Peter nodded slightly and said so softly she could barely hear him:
"I understand, Mama."
The woman smiled.
"I bought some fresh figs today, your favorite. How about you take them with you tomorrow and go to Ariesa's house to apologize?"
Afraid the boy might be too shy to go, she quickly added:
"Don't worry, Ariesa's parents will be glad to see you. All you have to do is sincerely say 'I'm sorry,' and Ariesa will forgive you. Aren't you two good friends?"
She had already discussed it with the girl's parents, and the girl wasn't very upset. Both sets of parents knew it was just the stirrings of young love. In a way, Peter bullying Ariesa was actually good news... though he had gone a little too far.
Peter shyly looked up at his mother and summoned the courage to nod.
"I'll go."
The woman stroked the hair on top of Peter's head again. His hair was as smooth as his father's. She said:
"That's my good boy, my Little Stone."
His mother was happy that he had admitted his mistake. She liked little Ariesa, just as the girl's parents liked Peter.
Peter changed the subject, voicing a worry that had been on his mind:
"Oh, Mama, I heard some adults talking about some kind of rebellion."
The mother propped her chin on both hands and looked at her son as she explained:
"Don't worry, child. It isn't a real rebellion. It's just a symbolic reminder to the Child of the Gods and the Imperium to pay more attention to us and give us more help."
"All these years, the Legion has taken countless promising boys away, and they've never come back. Again and again, the Legion comes here to replenish its supplies, takes the boys, and leaves. It happens over and over."
"More and more people are leaving Olympia, especially boys as promising as you. All these years, the Imperium hasn't brought Olympia anything—not energy, not food, not even glory."
His mother reached out and stroked the boy's cheek again.
"So your father and I won't let the Imperium take you away. We aren't rebelling; we're just negotiating with the Child of the Gods and the Imperium. We want boys like you to stay here on Olympia, grow up together, get married, have children, and grow old."
The boy blushed a little at the mention of marriage and children, but his mother went on:
"What do you think of Ariesa?"
The boy blushed even more.
"We're just good friends..."
His voice grew quieter with every word.
His mother gave a laugh like silver bells.
"Girls don't tell their friends that they've had their first period. I bet she likes you, my handsome little fellow."
The boy felt even more embarrassed.
Dinner ended in a shy but happy mood. The boy was the one who felt shy the whole time, while his mother was happy throughout.
Then some strange noise seemed to come from outside the window. It sounded like an aircraft passing overhead, or something falling from the sky.
The commotion outside grew louder and louder. Many of the neighbors came out of their homes to see what was happening. The mother and son were drawn outside by the noise, stepping over the mosaic tiles on the floor and lifting the linen curtain to look out.
In the sky, just after sunset, countless "shooting stars" streaked across the heavens, trailing long tails of flame as they fell toward the ground.
Drawing on what he had learned, Peter identified them and pointed at the "shooting stars."
"Mama, look! Shooting stars."
Peter was still a child then. He didn't know those so-called "shooting stars" were drop pods, and he failed to notice his mother's face turn ashen.
Standard Terra Calendar 004.M31: The Olympia Rebellion.
The "Lord of Iron," Perturabo, led over a hundred thousand Iron Warriors of the Fourth Legion in slaughtering and laying waste to his own home world. The Iron Warriors butchered their own brothers, sisters, and descendants, while the Primarch strangled his own sister, Kalliphenny, with his bare hands.
In the end, all the survivors of Olympia were reduced to slaves and driven into the lower decks of the Iron Warriors' fleet. The Iron Warriors who refused to raise their blades against their homeland were likewise killed by their own brothers.
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