Chapter 7
Unseen Wires
I made it back just in time for the creche dinner and was unreasonably pleased with myself until I realized that Araxis wasn't joining us.
"There was a problem with the ship," Evreni said by way of an explanation when she caught me looking a little adrift after I realized Araxis wasn't just going to stroll in.
"What kind of problem?"
Vivith, who was setting a series of steaming dishes on the table, made a sharp hissing sound – a correction they sometimes used with the children. "If our Araxis wishes to discuss the matter with you, he will. Even he would not discuss it at a creche dinner."
For one brief moment, I felt something furious flex and uncoil a little inside of me, as if, restless, it wanted nothing so badly as to leave the place where I'd been hiding it and strike.
Vivith had been spying on me; they'd been tracking my movements because they didn't like that Araxis was thinking for himself.
They didn't like me or trust me; they wanted me to be nothing more than a piece of pretty set dressing.
As I looked at Vivith, the thoughts all hovered, bright and present and tasting of blood, just behind my eyes and on the back of my tongue.
But next to me, Adrathi was chortling happily as she flipped through a book I'd picked up for the kids at a vendor in Radiant Ward, which was all about a nyaan child and the things they accidentally absorbed into their body – and I'd never want to scare the children, not with the fetid anger inside of me or what it might become if I let it out.
Instead, I forced myself to duck my head and I murmured, "Of course," and I went back to looking at the book with Adrathi.
The dinner proceeded while I wondered about Araxis; at first, everyone had spoken in Standard with quiet abayan asides, but I insisted that they switch entirely to abayan.
"It's good for me to be immersed," I said when Yalrinn looked concerned.
"That's how I learned Standard: there wasn't any other option. "
Vivith was quick to comply and the rest of the table followed suit.
And I was still able to follow some of it, although I didn't try to jump in – what did I have to say about the new broadcast production of Yedina of the Amber Blade or which cultural sites the children should visit in the main system of Xitera before they headed to Thelessia – so the conversation became a gentle wave of language washing over me, which gave me time to think.
Vivith had been following me, until Araxis had told them to stop, had issued a binding command.
Abaya considered that a done deal. I wasn't so sure I did.
And then someone had broken into my apartment; someone had been asking Tam about me, looking for information.
Could Vivith have gone down to Radiant? I waited for an opportune moment, and then asked Vivith how the meeting had gone in Central Ward.
They'd looked irritated for a moment, and then said, waspish, that they'd left with a promising agreement for Araxis to review – before they reminded me with decided smugness that it was considered rude to bring up work at a creche dinner.
I'd said nothing, and instead studied them as they drifted back into abayan, speaking pleasantly with Evreni. I didn't think they were lying – if they were, Araxis would find out anyway – so the question was what they'd found out when they'd been nosing around.
Did Vivith know I'd been at the cultural centre in Radiant Ward? Did they know I was seeing Inmadra for language lessons, that I was paying a physician to patch me up after training, that I was buying more dumplings than anyone reasonably should?
I was pretty sure Inmadra would have told me if anyone had asked her questions.
I was also pretty sure she would rather scorch the earth than do something less than morally correct.
She was very concerned with doing things correctly.
I'd asked Celravi once if she found the lessons boring to attend; she had breezily explained that she was happy to come because it made Inmadra happy.
And you are very sweet, she'd been quick to add, smiling.
It is hardly a burden to help chaperone.
It was like Nilli back on Creche Athal’s ship, who'd stayed close to make sure nothing improper was happening.
I was a treasure, and I'd understood then that Inmadra wanted to assure that I remained unspoiled.
I could only assume that was why Elethenn, clearly uncomfortable, had forced himself to join Rodil in my apartment.
He was supervising. He was another set of eyes.
It was all laughable on so many levels: Rodil was a physician; I was an ex-dancer. No one could compromise me in a way that I hadn't already done years ago. Which meant that none of it was about me or my comfort; it was about Araxis.
Rodil wanted me to put in a good word. I thought the others might as well, although no doubt Inmadra would insist she was only offering services in exchange for payment – she'd hate the implication that she had another motive, I knew she would – and so it was Araxis they were really trying to assuage with all their… propriety.
This is a transgression against Creche Thiel, Inmadra had said. Your actions will be understood to be a statement on behalf of your creche. Your Araxis would not approve.
I was mostly a void, my edges shaped entirely by my proximity to Araxis.
No wonder it was so hard to be just Sashen and just Araxis.
I hadn't realized, really, the extent to which those cultural assumptions would…
obliterate me. And Vivith wanted the same: they wanted me docile, quiet, deferential, as expected.
Whenever I drifted outside of Araxis's orbit, even just a little, everyone tried to push me back in.
Could I have a cultural tutor? I had to ask Araxis.
Would someone explain that term to me? Araxis would need to decide.
Was it okay for me to walk around Verdant Ward on my own?
Oh, but there I was, unguarded without Araxis.
The break-in at my apartment would reflect on Araxis; my decision to pay the fines would be about Araxis.
Even when I'd been thanked outside the guard station, they'd thanked him – because that was who I was to everyone around me.
But… all the while, Araxis had been valiantly holding space, as best he could, for me to move freely.
He’d told me that being declared would make me his, first and foremost, way back on the arena sands.
He’d known the restrictions of being a declared virra would be hard for me, and so he’d built expanses of time for me to be unfettered.
He conducted the meetings in Standard. When I'd asked, he'd made the dossier for me, which I hadn't had nearly enough time to study yet – I could start that tonight – and when I said that I wanted more, he tried to carve out space and time for just that.
Tell me who you are, I'd been demanding, and he'd offered everything he could.
I wondered if he also felt the pressures of Araxis, Head of Creche Thiel pushing against his sense of self.
What schism was there inside of him? If I found it difficult, how much harder would it be to have to play the part of yourself, all while sublimating so much of who you actually were until that person became… tremulous, nebulous, evasive?
It was like being on broadcast all of the time. At least I had Tam's, and I had the time I took alone in my apartment. I had Valerie Prior and the work I was doing with Perseus.
What did Araxis have, besides all of this?
He had me. But he was afraid to as well. And I'd been –
Well, I'd been playing the part of his partner. I'd stepped into the role as best I could. I'd been Sashen of Creche Thiel. What I hadn't done was give him Sashen Solar: someone to make space for him, to carve it out in bits and pieces. Breathing room.
I could do that. I had to do that. And – I thought I also wanted to. I just had to figure out how to do that while not giving all of myself away, not yet. How could I stay firm on who I was while also creating space for him?
But I knew it needed to start with bringing Araxis up to speed on some of what I'd done, and what the consequences could be.
I was tasked with supervising the children as they cleaned up, so I leaned against the counter and called up my message interface, flicking to the pink thread.
How was your trip out of Glimmer Ward? I asked.
His messaged floated up a few minutes later. You will be pleased to know that I was only groped three times on my way back to the shuttle station.
I laughed under my breath. Three times! Get any tips at least?
Alas, no. I clearly have much to learn. Perhaps our next date could involve some instruction on how best to avoid wandering hands.
I was about to suggest that we might go dancing, but then Adrathi broke a dish and started crying, so I had to flick the messages away and calm her down and make sure no bare-footed children stepped on anything sharp.
So I missed Araxis's messages until we finished loading the dishes in the cleaning compartment and headed to the front room to watch some of the new documentaries Valerie had sent along, at which point the pink bubbles all blinked to life in front of me, one after the other.
Would you care for another date? Or perhaps you would like more time to think about it.
Then, I've read it's generally in poor form to be so eager. But I wish for you to know that I would very much like to go on another date. To undertake another social activity so that we might better understand one another.
Then, We spoke at some length about abayan culture today. I understand that there is meant to be an equal exchange on dates, and I monopolized the conversation. I apologize. I would like to learn more about your culture, or more of the cultures and beliefs that speak to you.
Then, several minutes later, I know the culture you grew up with does not reflect your values or beliefs.
Then, You do not wish to speak about it. I apologize. I am overstepping.
I could practically see him standing in some empty corner of the ship, fretting as he stared at the messages he'd typed out and couldn't take back now.
Don't start spiralling, I wrote. You're not overstepping and you're not being too much of anything. I was just helping the kids clean up after supper and there was some drama about who dropped a plate and who else was mean about it. Glad I was there to put all of my negotiation skills to use!
I settled in next to the kids, who were cuddled up on the couch, tucking my feet under a blanket and rereading his series of messages.
Let me try to address that all in order, I typed.
Would I like another date? Yes. Is it poor form to be keen?
I don't know, but I like enthusiasm. Did we talk too much about your culture?
No, yours is the one I'm parachuting into, so the more we can talk about abayan culture, language, and beliefs, the better.
I do also like knowing more about you. I like talking to you.
Then, the trickier part: Do I want to talk about how I grew up? Not particularly. Will I? If I have to. Would that help you understand me? I don't think so. I don't fit anywhere. Everything I think about the universe is cobbled together from a dozen different sources, so really – who knows.
Here's what I do know, though, I finished. I missed sitting next to you tonight. When you're back, there are some things that have happened here that I need to fill you in on. Do you think you'll be late?
I didn't have to wait long for his response to float up.
I will certainly be late. Egnax found a faulty coupling, so the two of us are stripping out twenty-odd panels to check for others.
So far, we have found no others. Then, a moment later, Please imagine that I am extremely dejected when you read that, because that reflects the truth of the matter.
The video playing on the display showed icy fields and a herd of some sort of animal moving through snow.
The voice-over was in English, but there was a rough translation piped in over top, which made my head spin, although the kids didn't seem to mind.
Too bad I'm not there to help, I wrote. I'm great at getting in behind panels.
Yes, wrote Araxis. I have been thinking longingly of your flexibility.
I grinned, pleased, and then decided to wait a minute to see what he'd come up with next. I was pretty sure it was going to be an apology for –
Sure enough: I must apologize. It has been a long day. That was likely not an appropriate comment to make after a first date.
Yeah, that's third date material, I replied with a little cartoon of myself winking. Then, Oh, abaya don't wink. That means I'm making a flirty little joke.
I know what winking is, he replied. I have been aiming to emulate your studiousness. There are many non-verbal gestures humans might make that I understand now.
Was he bragging? I laughed under my breath, and then another message popped up. In truth, I must return to this work. The sooner I'm finished, the sooner I can come back. It will be very late, Sashen; I may not be back before morning. Please don't feel the need to wait up.
Be safe on the flight back, I wrote, feeling a pang at the idea of being here alone for the night. And let me know when you've got that next date figured out. I'm pretty sure I can convince my employer to give me some time off. I thought about adding a heart, but I held off.
He didn't respond for a long time, but just as I was bundling the kids off to bed, his message came through. Sleep well, beloved.
It was a nice thought – although I woke in the middle of the night, heart hammering and face wet with tears as usual. Except this time, I was alone, and the nightmare I'd find myself in come morning loomed, even if I couldn't see it yet and didn't know it was coming.