Thirty-Four #2
It didn’t happen. By the time they were in the early seventies, part of the team responsible for feeding and cleaning had moved into action.
An assortment of adults from around Anjiin sat on stools, cradling the newborns with one arm and guiding in feeding nipples with the other.
The fluid the babies ate might be called milk, but it was a term of courtesy.
The proteins and sugars had been synthesized from bacteria.
The pseudocolostrum was built antibody by antibody from designs pulled from proteomic dictionaries.
It started now, and went until the children were old enough to feed themselves. Or until they were able to reason for themselves. Or until they grew up. There was a new class of terribly vulnerable people that he would need to take care of, to budget labor and resources to support.
The lives that started that day wouldn’t look anything like the one that Dafyd had lived.
None of them would ever know Anjiin. All of them would start life cared for by strangers.
They had been born orphans, every one of them.
Eventually, they might decide to track which chromosome had come from which unwilling donor, but even that would be a life shaped unlike the norm had been for the generations before.
It was the price he paid to keep the executioner’s axe off their collective necks a little bit longer.
When the last crib was full, and the air was thick with the smell of false milk and warm baby, Dafyd gestured to the Soft Lothark guards and made his way back through the door and into the labs.
About half of Brun’s team was still there, cleaning up the last of the decantation process or else prepping the next steps for maintaining and cleaning the new children.
A few looked askance at the aliens in Dafyd’s wake, but no one objected to their presence. Not yet, anyway.
“Heck of a day,” Brun said. He was drying his hands on one of the last blankets. He looked both exhausted and pleased with himself.
“You did good work,” Dafyd said. “I know how much I was asking from you, and how hard it was picking everything up after Tonner died.”
Brun bent his thin neck. “It was rough. I’m glad we could do it.”
“We’ll need to start another batch in a few months. A lot of the project moving forward will be finding ways that the kids coming up can take on responsibilities. Help lighten the load for the next generation. It’s not bad bones for starting a new culture.”
“I guess,” Brun said. “But this was… you know… it. We’re still going to help take care of the kids. We’re not going to let them down. But we’ve waited as long as we can on the other thing. The work stoppage starts after we finish cleaning up and putting away.”
“I know,” Dafyd said. “That’s why I’m here.”
The rest of the team had slowed their work or stopped it. By the pile of spent lamb sacks, Clae was on her knees, packing the material away for recycling. She didn’t look up at him.
“I’m sorry,” Brun said. “I am. I know you have a lot to carry, but we tried negotiating. We tried giving you time. Until the Carryx agree, we’ve got to stick to our guns. This is the only way they’ll notice us. We have power here, and it’s their choice how and whether we use it.”
“Yeah,” Dafyd said. “Did you ever see those optical illusions when you were growing up? Like the one that was maybe a duck or maybe a rabbit? The way the same image kept popping between two different things is kind of like what we’re dealing with here.”
Brun crossed his arms. Dafyd knew he was stalling. Nothing about this was going to change. He went on anyway.
“On one hand, this is a straightforward labor dispute. You have demands, they aren’t getting met, you’re pushing back on management, which is the Carryx, through me as their middleman.”
“That’s what it is,” Brun agreed.
“It’s another thing too. It’s a subordinate challenging the authority of a superior. That means something to them, and it’s not negotiation. It’s you saying that you can do my job better than I can. That’s the logic of the situation for them.” He pointed to Brun—“Duck.” Then to himself—“Rabbit.”
“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” Brun said. “I don’t want your job.”
“No, you just want to tell me how to do it. For the Carryx, that’s the same thing.
And there’s a way it goes from here. If I go to the librarian and insist on your demands, I’m challenging it.
I’m saying I deserve to have its position.
I’m an animal in its eyes, and they only know one way to deal with that sort of challenge. ”
“I think you’re overstating how—”
“I know you do, but you’re wrong. We live and die at the whim of the Carryx.
They will not alter their rules to make us comfortable or happy.
We must reshape ourselves to survive in the space they allow us.
Which means I have to deal with you using Carryx logic.
So I’m going to ask you to withdraw your challenge now and agree that you and your team will go back to work and do everything you can to meet goals in a timely, efficient way. I’m asking you to back down.”
“You know that’s not going to happen,” Brun said, squaring his shoulders and thrusting out his jaw. It was the human equivalent of a Carryx rearing up on its hind legs and lifting its front arms into the air. It said, I will fight you .
“Yes, it will,” Dafyd said, and gestured the Soft Lothark forward. One of Brun’s team stepped forward, and Dafyd met her eyes. “No,” he said.
For what seemed like minutes, Brun either didn’t understand what was happening or didn’t believe it. There was a moment when he could have fled, and it would have made the already bad situation that much worse, but by the time the thin man thought to run, one of the Soft Lothark had him by the arm.
“What is this? What are you doing?” Brun said as the Soft Lothark pulled him to the floor.
The second guard pulled a block out of its satchel that was roughly the size and shape of a builder’s brick.
Dafyd suddenly felt deeply tired, like some moral exhaustion had washed over him more profound than simple weariness.
“The Carryx as a species have a way of resolving challenges like this,” Dafyd said. “They are an extremely lethal species, and they don’t want to kill each other all the time. So they have rituals that keep disagreements from escalating to a death.”
The first guard put a knee at the small of Brun’s back, pinning him down.
The second took Brun’s right wrist and pulled it out.
The man fought, but only managed to keep his arm bent at the elbow for a few uncomfortable seconds.
Once it was straight, the Soft Lothark placed the block under Brun’s wrist.
“I don’t have very many people,” Dafyd said.
“There’s a drain on expertise and experience that I can’t afford.
Losing Tonner was a setback that we’ll be making up for a long time.
You have stepped up in ways I hoped you would, but I didn’t expect.
You’ve done a great job, and if the human moiety survives this, a lot of the credit for that goes to you. ”
“You’re out of your mind,” Brun shouted. “You’re deranged.” There were flecks of white at the corners of the man’s mouth. His eyes were wide. When he tried to struggle, the Soft Lothark held him in place. “No,” Brun shrieked. “Please no! You don’t have to do this!”
Dafyd brought his heel down midway between Brun’s right elbow and the block. He felt the snap of bone more than he heard it. Brun screamed. The Soft Lothark looked up at him, a question in their small, dark eyes.
“I did this so I can explain to the Carryx that the proper actions were taken, and your challenge was resolved. They will understand. But if you challenge me again after this, they will not understand. And I will have no choice but to kill you.”
“You’re a fucking monster,” Brun said. “I helped you. I handed babies to you.”
He motioned the guards back. They let Brun go, and the man sat up, cradling his broken arm. He’d need a splint and a few weeks. There might be a scar and some loss of function. Dafyd looked at the faces all around the lab, turned toward him in rage and disbelief and fear.
“I know that this looks like cruelty,” he said, loudly enough for all of them to hear him.
“But it’s the only kindness I have left to give.
There will be a meeting of all department heads in three days.
You’ll be there to report as usual. If you aren’t, you will be killed. Do we understand each other?”
Brun wept. His eyes were pressed closed, and he was rocking back and forth a little. Dafyd found Clae, still kneeling where she’d been.
“You’ll make sure he knows?” Dafyd asked, and she nodded her assent.
He turned away, walking back out the door to the nursery and the children.
He just wanted to sleep.