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117: Pursued By
118: Her Lover's Hand 119: Witchspeak  Post: 04.13.2004Date: 06.11.2196 Time: Afternoon Pursued By (GO) goes the world. I come awake. On my back. Eyes closed. Sounds fading in. Voices and the swish of cloaks and boots. No static though. At least there's that. The timekeeper digits are burned into my retinas. Six zeros banding across the backs of my eyelids. In my dream, the digits flipped, signaling midnight, and then it was as if I'd been switched off. The dream world disappeared, and that self--my before self--disappeared along with it. Somebody flipped the switch. Turned the flik off. I got jacked out. Metaskin in my hand. Eyes open, and no, it's not JACK, but 2-85. It was his hand I grabbed for, his hand that caught mine. His hairstalk hangs down, running along one side of my body. Can feel it there, touching. His eyes are swirls. "How long was I out?" I ask. I'm still in the gad (rin). There are witches and Driftlings all around, hovering over me. "About three seconds," 2-85 says. Three seconds! Glitch! All that...in just three seconds? "How do you feel?" shea(3)va asks with a worried expression on her face. "The gur (dan) will be here soon." "I don't need him. I'm not sick, and I feel fine." shea(3)va smiles, brushing hair from my face. "You always were stubborn. Almost as much as me." I can't help but smile back at her, because it rings true. Scanning the faces above me, I fix on cyn(7)dar. Glitch that does it. The dream, still fresh, plays at light speed through my mind. I realize, with some embarrassment, that my body is still experiencing a mild case of lingering arousal. My breathing is deep and I think my face is flushed. What the glitch is wrong with me? "It's true, you know," cyn(7)dar says. "The child is ours." Behind him, PIIX is looking at me. Her nostrils flare, sniffing. She pauses, considering, then turns to 7-07, speaking quietly, but loud enough for me to hear, "I can smell her. She smells like fear. And something even sweeter. She smells like--" JACK turns on her, hissing. "Enough! Don't finish that sentence." PIIX clamps her mouth shut, nodding as if she only barely comprehends why she's been stopped. I can't take my eyes off cyn(7)dar, so I lie there, breathing hard, trying not to think of my dream, trying not to think of what it means, and watching him. trying not to think of him...kissing me...above me...almost in me "I can see it in your eyes," he says. "You believe me." "Shut the glitch up," shea(3)va says, pushing him up and away. "You're harassing her. I don't know why you're doing this to her right now, like this, but I don't like it. Just accept the fact that she met somebody else while she was away from us." cyn(7)dar backs off without a word. "Help me up," I say. 2-85 lets go as JACK and shea(3)va pull at my arms. I brush myself off and readjust my cloak. I scan the crowd. Wirewitches, friends, Sphek members--all of them staring at me, waiting to see what I'll do next. Glitch this Athara-Meeatora j'aa. As if I don't have enough problems. I need to go somewhere and think about all this. Alone. A few minutes ago, I wanted JACK and the others here. Now, I need them away. "Why didn't you tell us this before?" van(9)nis asks. The question is directed at cyn(7)dar. "She wouldn't come back with me," cyn(7)dar says, talking to them, but looking at me. "What was I supposed to say? Should I have admitted my failure in front of everybody? My friends? The Sphek? No, it hurt too much then. I think my way was less painful, and not just for me." His voice falters at that last bit, as if he's unsure of himself. "You should have told us," shea(3)va says. "We deserved to know. We're her friends too. For glitch's sake, cyndar, I'm her blod (sis)!" "What would you have done? Would you have gone after her if you had known?" shea(3)va gives me a nervous glance. "I-I'm not sure." "You wouldn't have, because you know she would have refused to go back with you too." "You don't know that. You can't know that for sure." shea(3)va hangs her head, perhaps to hide tears. I can't bear this. Turning to JACK: "I need to be alone for awhile." She nods, signaling the coven. I put a hand on shea(3)va's arm, hoping my smile is convincing. "I don't know exactly what to say, but I think...I want us to be friends again. I'm not sure what being a blod (sis) means, but I want to find out. Will you help me?" She hugs me. It feels so good, like my body remembers what it's like to have my arms around her, to have her breathing against me, to have her tears dripping on my shoulder. "When you're ready," she sniffles. Releasing her, I move toward the doors, trailing wirewitches. I pass Kiiziiziixii in the shadows. Her arms are crossed, almost wrapped around her torso. She appears to be shaking. Can't see her face though. I almost stop, but she quietly steps in behind us. Out into the city, the static slams back into me. Unwanted guest that it is, it's familiar, and when it fades back to almost nothing, I feel a curious sense of regret. How glitched is that? The domed landscape has fallen into shadow, but the sky still burns above with red and orange hues. I pick a direction--the one that'll lead me out of this place the fastest--and I start walking. "Where are you going?" 2-85 asks. Strange, I thought that would come from JACK. "I'll be back later," I say, avoiding looking at any of the crowd. em(0) said it wasn't safe out here. Am I in danger from other Driftlings? I'm one of them. Don't they recognize me for what I am now? I'm positive the news has spread. Can hear them whispering, mumbling. I hear echoes of Athara-Meeatora passed along, following me as I walk. I pull my cloak closer, walking faster. Quick glances. Not all of them are friendly. Maybe it isn't safe. Maybe I should bring the wirewitches along with me. No. Better this way. This time, it needs to be me and me alone. Cosmic glitch, I'm a complete vootch. I left without getting my sever-whip back. Glitch! Glitch Glitch! I feel naked and defenseless without it. Didn't realize I'd feel this vulnerable without it on my hip or in my hand, control surfaces denting my palm. I break through the bulk of the crowd and head toward the edge of the city. In contrast to the barren state which had existed before, now there are Driftlings moving everywhere. Most of them are dressed similarly, bodies wrapped tight in material of varying earth-toned hues. Here, away from that crowd--away from people who have been informed as to who I am--I blend better. Just another Driftling...drifting. (funny angel real hilarious won't be funny when you) (get cornered by one who remembers that you) (promised him your virginity when you) (were six) I'm out of the city now, desperate to distance myself, if only for a few minutes, from all of...that. Back there behind me. A city of Driftlings. My home. My life. My past. Just want a few more minutes of me as I think I am right now before I have to go back and start dealing with who other people know I really was. A voice calling out behind me. Footsteps in sand and dirt, but I can barely hear them. I expected this. Was inevitable. I allow myself to sigh out loud, knowing he can hear. Made it partway up the ridge before he caught me. Not sure if he was just waiting before he came, or if somebody stopped him from getting here sooner. Maybe the Sphek. Maybe shea(3)va and van(9)nis. Maybe JACK and the coven. "Wait," cyn(7)dar says. I don't. He follows. As I expected. When he reaches me, I'm breathing hard from the incline of the path, wondering at the stupidity of my walking here alone, baby in my belly slowing me down. He's not winded in the slightest. He falls in beside me and doesn't say anything else, as if content that I'm even allowing him this close. It infuriates me and yet...it doesn't. I don't like my reaction, but I feel better with him here. Is it because the weakness in me thinks he can protect me? Well, glitch that to the dark of Eiech. I keep him in my peripheral vision. Anything more than that would bring certain details of my dream back. I'll have to deal with that real soon here, but maybe I can hold that particular flood back for a little while longer. "I want to be alone," I say when we reach the ridge. He's facing me, standing closer than I'd like. I'd have to look up to see his face, so I'm not doing that. "You came up here for nothing." "Anything I do around you is never nothing." "I'd like you to leave." "Do you remember the island? Being there with me? That night? You say you don't, but I'm asking you again." This is exactly the line of questioning I wanted to avoid by coming up here. Doesn't look like he's going to give me a chance to deal with this by myself first. Glitch, I wish I had my sever-whip. Doesn't he realize how hard this is for me? (what about him angel? you) (hurt him too) A hand in my vision. He's reaching for my chin. Wants me to look at him. I dodge. Step back. Glitch him. He won't control me like that. Not now. Not ever. I remember the glitched island. I remember what we did. I remember what we didn't. It wasn't everything it was supposed to be, but it was enough. "Just tell me," he pleads. "Can you give me that at least?" Something rolls down my cheek. A tear, glitch it, how did that happen? He sighs, turns to leave. "I remember," I say. He stops. Before he can go any further I say, "Some of it. Not all, but some. But only because I dreamed when I passed out. You called me a liar, but I'm not. I haven't lied to you." (oh but you have and) (you're doing it again) (why?) He turns back to me. This time, I look over at him. Standing where he is, on the incline, his eyes are level with mine. "I apologize. I shouldn't have said that. I was frustrated and angry, not to mention shocked that you had returned. I kept it shielded inside me all these months, and I wasn't able to contain it when I saw you there. You were sitting in front of me, breathing and just as beautiful as you ever were. I lost control. I'm sorry." My gaze strays to his deformed hand. It's hanging limp at his side. Despite its torqued shape, the muscles there aren't withered; they look strong and capable. How is that possible? "It was you, wasn't it? In the gad (rin), behind the thrones. I could only see a figure moving in the shadows, but you were there." He nods. "I was among those that captured you. I recognized you the second you removed your hood, but I couldn't do anything about it. Not until the Sphek had seen you." He laughs. "It was all I could do to not run up to you, throw my arms around you, and squeeze till it hurt." I laugh too, but there's a tear on the other cheek now, because I'm imagining how nice that might have been--coming home, welcomed and crushed in a suffocating hug, instead of mistrusted, imprisoned, and questioned. Guess I'll never know. He moves closer, motions, indicating a flat rock for me to sit on. I don't want to accept anything from him, take any comfort, but my back and calves are killing me. I sit. He remains standing. Now, to look at him, I really have to bend my neck. "What do you remember?" he asks. About me, it should've been. What do you remember about me? "You showed up at my...well, I called it my space, I think. I wanted you to stay, so you did. You stayed for awhile." "Almost two months." "I brought you to an alley. We kissed there. Then we went back to my space, and ah...um..." "Had sex." (yeah, but aborted) (and all) (you got from the deal was a baby, angel you) (still don't know what it's really like) (not really) "I guess that's what it was," I say. "Sex." "I wish--" he begins, then clamps his mouth shut, looking away. "Of course, looking back, it was little more than an impregnation." Don't know what made me say that, or where the sudden burst of anger came from. He wilts. "I don't know what to say. I can only say how sorry I am so many times before it'll become meaningless, but I'll say it as many times as you want me to." "You don't need to say it any more. While I don't understand or remember everything between us, I don't blame you. I'm at fault too, you know. I can remember that much at least." "I don't blame you at all. You were pursued by me. I was the aggressor. Always was." He pauses before finishing with, "Still am." "That's generous, but really, you should. I took you to bed as much as you took me. I wanted it too." Remembering my dream, I know this is true. I needed him during that time. I was taking comfort from him, using him. It wasn't entirely selfish, but that was a big part of it. "It will take me some time to fully accept what's happened between us, but I know I can't undo what's been done. We had a relationship, and now I'm pregnant because of it. I will deal with it. It is my burden to bear." "Not just yours," he says, kneeling beside me. "Mine too." "I know." "The baby is mine then?" he asks, as if he's not sure now, as if he is afraid there was someone else. "Yes. There hasn't been anybody else." There wasn't time. Cyberspace fell and...something happened to me. I wish I knew what. After that, only rape attempts, except for...no, I will not think of him. I. Will. Not. "You should know that if you know me." "I know," he sighs. "It's just that...I doubted myself when you disappeared. What happened to you? Where did you go?" "I don't know. I really don't. After I left the housing complex--there's nothing. My memory stops right after that. Then it starts up again with me in another alley." I stop, seeing that he's expecting me to continue, expecting me to tell him everything. I'm not sure I'm ready for that. (you've been naked with him angel remember? why're you) (showing modesty now?) I change the subject. "Why isn't it safe to be out here? Am I really in danger from other Driftlings?" He shakes his head. "I won't deny it; there are Driftlings who will always wish ill toward Athara-Meeatora. The danger is not great, but it does exist. We know who most of them are. Now that you have returned, we will begin tracking their movements again. It's not hard when there are as few Driftlings as there are." "I need my sever-whip back." "When we return to the city, I'll make sure that it gets to you." "I'll feel better when I get it back." cyn(7)dar smiles. "What the glitch is that for?" "I'm picturing you wielding that thing while pregnant." "Well don't." His grin doesn't fade. Glitch, he's good looking like that. Okay, stop that line of thinking right now. "I'll try," he says. "But you need to be aware that, even when you get your sever-whip back, you can't be outside without an escort. There are other dangers--those which threaten not only Athara-Meeatora, but all Driftlings." "What do you mean?" cyn(7)dar stares out of the valley, across the horizon. "It's simple. We're at war. With the Nanzag." |
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Post: 04.17.2004 Date: 06.11.2196 Time: Afternoon Her Lover's Hand "And just what the glitch are Nanzag?" I ask. "I'm afraid that you'll see them all too soon. We haven't had an attack in over seven days. That's the longest period of inactivity all year. Another could happen at any time. When we captured you and your friends, we were waiting for them." cyn(7)dar rests a hand on the sever-whip at his hip. "The children call them Zomboids. They're a fusion of flesh and metal, straight from hell, or so the rumors say. Whatever they are, they're not natural." "So, they're cyborgs?" I've seen enough of those. I think. At least, I have pictures in my mind of them. They're images without context, but they're images nonetheless. "If only they were," he says, smiling. "They'd be a whole lot easier to kill. No, they're not cyborgs." "They what are they?" "They're offspring from human and robot matings." "That's impossible." He ignores me, because it obviously isn't impossible. Not if they exist. "What do they want?" "Raw materials. Food." "Exactly, what does a Nanzag eat?" "Driftlings." Glitch. "Really, anything that breathes. And anything mechanical. Don't know how they process it all; I just know that they do." "What do they look like?" "We should head back," he says, holding his hand out to me. I'm not moving. Not yet. When cyn(7)dar realizes that I'm not going to take it, he lets it fall to his side. "I'm not leaving yet. If you stay, I have more questions for you." If you're not gonna tell me what Zomboids look like, then I'm gonna get you to talk about some other things. It'd be better if you just left--I'd be a glitch of a lot more comfortable--but you're probably as stubborn as I think you are. (stubborn enough to not give up on you, angel) "I'm not leaving you alone out here." He shakes his head, obviously frustrated, crossing his arms across his chest. "Ask me anything." Zeroed it. Stubborn. Fine. "Did you know my mother?" "Everybody knew your mother." "You know what I mean." "What I knew of her, I knew through you." A solemn expression passes across his face as he reminisces. "You and I grew up together, along with sheava and vannis. We're all about the same age, you know. The four of us were close friends since as far back as our memories go. That's probably because our mothers were all members of the Sphek. We had plenty of reasons to be around each other, whether we wanted to or not. We played together, ate together, studied together--just about everything young kids do I guess." I like the sound of what he's describing. I wish to glitch I could remember some of it. I can almost picture our youthful interactions, but they are little more than brief images of too-old faces I've only recently seen and hollow wishes for emotions I can't summon. cyn(7)dar seems to notice, and, not allowing me to sink down into myself, he continues. "We got into trouble too." "Really?" I let an eyebrow raise. "Yeah, mostly because of you. Mostly." (there was a devil inside the angel then?) "Me?" I ask. "I don't think that I--" (still is) He laughs, running his deformed hand through his hair. Green and yellow strands spring back like straw, falling down across his eyes, catching the last few rays of daylight. "You're Athara-Meeatora. If only you could fully remember what it means to be that, then you would understand why we were always in trouble with you around." "Tell me." "I was supposed to tell you about your mother. This is a tangent." "If you'd stop stopping, you'll get to talk about everything I want you to." His smile fades, but only because it turns into amazement. "Athara-Meeatora..." he says, shaking his head. "Glitch! What is it?" "It's just that--well, for a moment there, you sounded like you did...before. Same tone, same inflection, same impatience--just like the syl I've always known. Just like you." His body language tells me that he wants to approach me, touch me even, see if I'm really real after all. "It's good to have you back, that's all." He pauses, allowing me a chance to respond. I don't, so he starts up again. "Being close friends with Athara-Meeatora didn't come without its hazards. Most of the pressure came down on you, of course, but the rest of us were often splash damage victims. Still, through most of it, we stuck together. It was a simply formula: If you were in trouble, so were we. When you were harassed, we harassed them right back. They teased, we retaliated. When you got into fights because of who you were, we fought beside you. We were only kids, but we were old enough to know that it wasn't your fault you were born...unique. It wasn't your fault you had been branded Athara-Meeatora without your consent. We just did what we thought was right." "Thank you." What else can I say? It feels like I should say so much more, but I don't know what. "Oh, we got you into trouble too. If it would help us, you never hesitated to use your influence though. We're as indebted to you as you are to us. But what it all reduces down to is this: The four of us had real friendship. It was friendship that was grown and cultivated. Over the years, it matured. You became blod (sis) with sheava as soon as you could." "How old was I?" "Only girls who have reached their seventh birthday can request a blod (sis) ceremony, but Athara-Meeatora requested hers when she was only six." "And they let me?" "Sometimes it seemed that you always got your way. That wasn't really true, not really, but at times, we couldn't help but think it." "I don't remember what blod (sis) means." "Most of our old language isn't spoken anymore. In fact, most of us only use it for words that don't translate into Core. In the old language, we have three terms which refer to close relationships. Blod (bro) for relationships between men, blod (sis) for relationships between women, and blod (mat) for the relationship between a man and a woman. At their centers, each of these terms is the same, just modified for context. Each implies a bond that is only broken by death. A blod relationship is the closest link that two people can have. It is friendship that is physical, emotional, and mental, yet transcends all these concepts." Physical? Is he saying that I--? He must see the look on my face because he holds up a hand. "I said physical, I didn't say sexual. Though that can certainly be a part of it, depending on individual preferences." "Oh," I say. Naturally, awkward silence follows that. "Is sheava blod (mat) with vannis?" I ask. "Yes." "When did that happen?" "About three months before you left." "I wish I could remember that." "I'm sure sheava will show you the images if you ask. Someone snuck a nano-imager into the ceremony, even though they're forbidden in the gad (rin)." "Hold. Are you saying that--" "I don't think anybody outside of us four knows what you did, but I'm sure em(0) suspects. But if she knows, she's never said anything." I can't help but wonder at my mischievousness. Glitch, what else have I done? What other misdeeds are gonna come back to haunt me? How much of a troublemaker was I? "As for myself, I'm not sure if it was sheava's idea or if you surprised her. Neither vannis nor I knew ahead of time. You and your blod (sis) are very good at keeping secrets." I'm glitched good at it, but mostly because I can't remember enough to know what secrets I'm holding. After all. I Am. Athara-Meeatora. "I'm jealous of you two," he says, moving closer. "And what you share." More silence. More awkward. What's he thinking about? Is he, like me, trying not to think of our time on the island? What we've shared? Is he dodging that charging eoa of a topic like I am? Glitch this. I have a thousand more questions, but I'm tired. I think it's time I went back, requisitioned something to eat and got some sleep. "Where do we go from here?" he asks. Uh. Oh. "W-What do you mean?" I stammer. Static's manifesting again, waking up at the bidding of some invisible god. "I mean you. I mean me. Us. You're pregnant. I'm responsible." Softly: "Yeah." "We have a past, but do we have a future?" "I don't know." Now I'm angry, static pricking me, feeding my fury. "How can I know that? You're a real g'ekk for asking me that now. Why are you doing this to me?" "I still love you, syl. It gnaws at me." (don't let him say that to you angel) "Then give me some time! Glitch, you owe me that." "You loved me once." His eyes reflect his inner torment. "You would have been blod (mat) with me, if only you--" That does it. "If only what?" I spit back. "If only I had stuck around and finished what we started? Well, glitch that! You got the job done." I put hands on either side of my belly. "Congratulations, but it doesn't entitle you to glitch in my opinion." "No, that's not what--" "Do you think we can just pick up where we left off?" His mouth is open, but nothing's coming out. I can see that I'm hurting him. It's difficult to watch his solid form begin to recoil. I sigh, blowing a breath out, bowing my head. What a pile of j'aa. What glitch. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I'm pregnant. Oh, and static-y. Not a good combination. What comes out of my mouth next is a result of all that: "I don't know you." At that, he flinches. "I remember you, but I don't know you. Don't try to force me. It's not gonna work." "I don't want to force you to do anything, syl. It's just that--" He spins around, turning his back on me. "--you were stolen from me. I--I want to hurt the person that did that to us. I'm angry and frustrated. I'm lashing out, and I'm sorry." (what about him angel? you) (hurt him too) No, I'm not giving in that easily. He has no right to make me deal with this right now! The static pummels its way through my brain. My baby kicks. I grab my belly, simultaneously marveling at the life within me and wondering if it can hear the static too. Wondering if it can feel it too, cutting into it. Oh God, what if the static is...damaging my child? cyn(7)dar turns back, creeps closer, kneeling down, bringing him eyelevel with me. "Is the baby moving?" "Don't touch me!" I can't help it, it's a reflex. I reach out and push him away. He's too quick, and he catches my arm. His grip is firm, but not tight. What grabs my attention though is: The static's vanished! Startled, I yank my arm out of his grasp, causing the static to flood back through me. I gasp, clutching my wrist to my chest. "How--?" "I didn't mean to hurt you." "No..." I say, distracted by the static, distracted by the urge to bite down the rage within and touch him again so the static will go away. God, I'm so weak. God, I'm pathetic. God, help me. (just like with) (con artist remember when you licked him?) "...you didn't hurt me. You just...frightened me for a second, that's all." (no, that's not all) "syl," cyn(7)dar says, and there's something in the way he says it that defuses much of my anger. I want to hold onto it, but my weariness and hunger have weakened me. The fighter in me is about to surrender, drop her weapons. "I love you. Nothing can change that. I've loved you ever since we were children. You're different from the rest of us. You're better than all of us. You're Athara-Meeatora, but that's just a convenient label because nobody can fathom who you really are." Least of all me. He continues. "I know you don't have your memories and you don't know me, but I'm telling you now that I want to change that. I want you to know me again. I want us to be together--to know each other. And I want to know our baby." ourbaby Don't know if I like the sound of that. It implies something I'm not ready for. At least not with him. "Don't push me away, syl." I delay my answer, even though I already know what I'm going to say. Knew it the moment he touched me and took the static away like he was performing a miracle. Minutes pass. Then: "Okay." "Thank you," he exhales. He takes my hand, pulls it away from where I'm still clutching it tight. Static recedes on a wave of bliss. I sigh. He hears me, interprets it as something more than I intend. I'm too tired to stop him. Too weak and infinitely pathetic. The fighter in me releases her weapons and kneels, defeated. Luxuriating in the absence of the static, my mind wanders. Reducing it down, we're just a boy and a girl on a hill, letting night fall around us. He's just a boy, entrapped by his desire for a girl. And I'm just that girl, confused by the gentle touch of her lover's hand. Love. What the glitch do I know about that? I don't know love. Who do I love? The list is blank. Not surprising, since my closest friend is a wirewitch. If anything approaches love, it's my friendship with JACK. (what about the con artist? the one you--) That's glitched ridiculous. Don't know why my mind won't release him. I'm never going to see that g'ekk again, or that other g'ekk. cyn(7)dar's hand folds over mine. He bows his head and his long strands fall down, bathing my hand up to the wrist. I feel his lips, planting a kiss there. My arm begins to tingle pleasantly. "There is a custom..." I'm still recovering from the distraction of his hand holding mine and that electric kiss, so my, "What custom?" is breathless and faint. "Because of our...intimate relationship, we have obligations to each other. It is the Driftling way." "What do you mean?" I can still feel his lips on the back of my hand, but that's not possible because he's looking right at me through fingers of green and yellow. His eyes are shadowed orbs, glittering briefly, darkly. "The Joining Sequence will take place soon." He squeezes my hand, rubbing a thumb across my palm. The baby kicks again. My vision, my balance wavers. "I have a question I have to ask you." "W-What...?" I'm trembling suddenly. "syl, will you be my blod (mat)?" |
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Post: 04.23.2004 Date: 06.14.2196 Time: Morning Witchspeak In bed, lying here, light filtered through a veil thrown across a narrow cut in the dome, I drift in the groggy embrace of just having woken. The bed is the softest thing I've ever slept on. I sink into it, cool sheets sliding against warm skin. The pillow puffs up around my ears. My hair's in my eyes. Must've been dreaming. Next to me, I feel JACK stir. The room is small. There's only one bed. One of JACK's hairstalks is wrapped around my ankle. Got like that somewhere in the middle of the night, and it's been there ever since. It was fine the first couple of nights, but last night she must've been dreaming. She was restless, and her hairstalks kept slithering all over, throwing the sheets off. I almost woke her, but she looked so peaceful I couldn't convince myself to touch her. After awhile, the hairstalks quit twitching, and I was able to sleep. "It's nice," JACK says, turning to face me. "Yeah," I agree, too peaceful to brush the hair out of my face or tilt my head. I peer at the wirewitch beside me out of the corner of one eye. Realizing that I agreed without knowing what she was talking about I ask, "Wait, what's nice?" "Waking up, here, with you, my friend, beside me." She's smiling. The circuitry patterns in her teeth gleam wetly and whitely in the veiled light. She reaches over and brushes hair off my face. Metaskin ridges press against forehead, briefly. "Yeah," I agree again, thinking that it is nice to have a friend I can trust enough to sleep next to. (you trusted the con artist, angel) No, glitch it. This is different. Anyway, he didn't deserve my trust. In the end, he didn't deserve anything from me. "I haven't asked you before," JACK begins, as if asking for permission to continue, "because I wanted to respect your personal matters, but it's been several days now, and you haven't talked about it yet." Knew this had to be coming. Ah, glitch it, I want to talk about it with her anyway; I was just avoiding the subject as long as I could. "You want to talk about me and cyndar?" (didn't take long to call him that did it?) (guess impregnation breeds familiarity) "Yes. I was hoping you would talk to me afterwards, but I could tell that whatever happened between you two weighed heavily. It was obvious that you weren't in the mood to talk about it." "He's the father of my baby," I say. "How is it that you suddenly know this? Or are you just taking him at his word?" I tell her. Everything. Just like before. About my dream. About my conversation with cyndar. About the question he asked me. And my response to that question. When I'm done, one of her hairstalks jerks, tossing the covers back. Both of us are wearing plain white sleeping garments. They're loose everywhere, but softer than silkmoss and comfortable to sleep in. Mine bulges grotesquely. JACK places a hand on my belly--warm through the thin material--and asks a simple question: "What are you going to do about him?" "I don't know yet. It's a little much to deal with. I've been flooded with too much data, and haven't been given enough time to process it." "Time, like life itself, can be short. We don't always get the time we need." That's how it's been ever since I woke in that alley. JACK's finger twitches on my belly. "I can't imagine what it's like; I can only be here for you. Whatever your decision is, I'll back you, if you need me." I put my hand over hers, feeling the coarse texture of her skin under my palm. "I do need you, JACK. Tell me what I should do." I watch those blue spheres crystallize, turn down toward my belly. "Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" Why is she asking that now? I've been too glitched occupied to think about that much. "I have no way of knowing. I don't even want to guess." "You know," JACK says, looking me right in the eye, "I can tell you. If you want." If I had been standing, those words would've brought me to my knees. "What?" I choke out. "I can tell you the gender of your child. That is, if you want to know before the child is born." "How can you--I mean, what--?" "It's something we can divine. All I have to do is--" Her hand begins to slide lower, to the underside of my swell. "No!" I say, too loud, static manifesting. Don't touch my child, witch! is the thought that sears into me. I'm ashamed at the vehemence, embarrassed of my mind's uncontrolled data flow. (scared of the witch, angel? why) (she's your friend there's nothing to) (BE AFRAID) (of) JACK retrieves her hand, rolls onto her back, looks up at the drooping ceiling. "I don't think I can tell you what you should do." "But I don't know what to do. I need--" "I do not want to interfere with your human ways. It will be better for you if I don't. What does your custom tell you to do?" My custom? Glitch, I don't have one. "He's the father of the baby. If I weren't a Driftling, there wouldn't be a custom. He'd have no rights. I could do whatever I wanted." "But you are a Driftling." "Yeah, so I've heard." JACK laughs, and I answer in turn, despite myself. The static recedes. "And that means there are obligations," I say, "between cyndar and me. On some level, I'm bound--him to me and me to him. The tie that binds is growing within me, bigger every day. It is customary for Driftlings who have intimate relationships before becoming blod (mat) with each other to atone for their actions by...becoming blod (mat) with each other." "Your custom seems strange to me. It seems that this would be problematic. If one action is wrong, that doesn't mean that there is another action which can always correct for the first. Two negatives don't make a positive." I grunt. I'd been thinking the same thing. "Unfortunately, this is a tradition and a way of life for Driftlings. Right and wrong probably have little to do with it." "Do you care about their traditions?" "That's just it. Their traditions are my traditions. I am Driftling. And yet, I don't remember any of this, so I don't feel like one. I don't know what it means to be a Driftling, so how can I be expected to instantaneously want to adhere to their ways?" "Do you?" Static is flaring, waking. Hand goes to the bridge of my nose, pressing up between my eyes. It doesn't help. "Yes. I want to remember what I was. I want to remember what I am. I think that discovering what it means to eat, breathe, and walk the Driftling path is crucial to finding out about my past. It might help me get my memory back." Glitch, it already has. JACK sits up, her hairstalks coming alive, the one unwrapping itself from my ankle. A part of me feels loss as it goes. She stretches. I glimpse her long legs. Powerful, technosite-enhanced muscles create sleek feminine lines. Glitch, I wish my legs looked like that, instead of looking and feeling swollen and disgusting. JACK swings hers off the bed. I resist the urge to tug on a hairstalk which streams down the back of her garment. "Are you saying you would become blod (mat) with this Driftling if it meant you could remember who you are?" I open my mouth to respond, but realize I'm not sure what I'm going to say. Then JACK jerks, cocks her head, turns it toward the door, only a second before it opens. "Hey!" I say, yanking at the covers, pulling them up to my chin, just as 2-85 enters the room. "Good, you're awake," he says. "Glitched warlock," I mutter, sitting up in bed, keeping the covers at my neck. "Don't come in here again without asking." "Apologize to syl," JACK says, fixing me over her shoulder. "She wants you to." I want him to--? JACK, I'm gonna strangle you! 2-85 walks right up the the edge of the bed, puts his hands down, leans over, looks me right in the eye. "I want to speak with you. Now." Some distant part of me wonders how much of mess my hair is. And if the heat I feel rising inside is turning my cheeks red. "About what?" I ask, managing not to stammer. He looks at JACK. Some hidden communication occurs between them. Lips vibrating. Emitting some high frequencies my ears can't pick up? Only takes a second, but when its complete, JACK pushes off, making for the door. "Wait!" I say, peering around 2-85, who's glaring at me. "Where are you going?" Don't leave me here alone with him! I don't trust him! or myself "Outside," JACK says. "I'm gonna go make sure PIIX and 7-07 are behaving." Before I can respond, she's gone. 2-85 isn't smiling. Is he upset? I eye my sever-whip, which I foolishly left on the table at the end of the bed, out of reach. "You're too close," I say. "You're making me uncomfortable. Back up." He stands. His hairstalk swings back and forth. His clothing is the same as the rest of the coven, leaving his thick arms and broad shoulders bare. The circuit pathways mold to the flex of his muscles, digital veins popping out on his biceps, trailing down his forearms. He looks like he could take on an eoa by himself. Maybe he could, but
NAAQ KIKA TERA and 3-43
couldn't "That's better," I say. I lower the sheet, knowing that what I'm wearing isn't transparent. "You seem to have my attention." "This Driftling. The one who claims to be the father of your child. How well do you know him?" He's looking at my belly. I panic. Maybe he can see through my clothes! Know him? Too well and not well enough. "He is my baby's father, but I didn't remember that till recently. We grew up together, but I don't remember any of that yet. I'm supposed to know him extremely well, but the reality is that I don't." "And he wishes to be fused with you?" "Fused?" "Sorry, that's a wirewitch term. These Driftlings probably have another word for it--when a man and a woman willingly pledge themselves to each other." "Yes, it is called blod (mat)." "This is what he wishes to be with you? Your blod (mat)?" Why are you asking me this? And how did you find out? "Yes. He's pursued me for some time. Ever since we were kids. We have a long history together. He's in love with me." 2-85 eyes go stormy at that. What the glitch? His face hardens. "You don't even know this Driftling." "Not really, but only because I have holes in my memory." (holes angel?) (understating aren't we?) 2-85 paces back and forth, pauses, then sits on the bed, his back to me. His hairstalk is resting beside my leg, which is uncovered and bare to the knee. Just like with JACK, I have to resist an urge to give his hairstalk a tug. What makes me want to do that? "I don't..." 2-85 says, but fades. "Why'd you come here? Just to ask me about all this? You could've just talked to JACK." Still not looking at me. "I'd rather hear it from you." What am I supposed to make of that? "Have you given him an answer yet?" 2-85 asks. I notice his fingers tapping on the side of the bed, denting the material in rapid succession. "No, of course not," I snap, the interference in my mind exploding along with my words. "Glitch it, I barely know him." "But you haven't rejected him either." "No, not yet." "The possibility that you'll accept is real then. Why?" "Oh, glitch you straight to Eiech! I just woke up, and you're forcing me to talk about this?" Hairstalk twitches against my thigh. "We can talk about it later." He stands. This time, I do grab his hairstalk. In my mind, the static is wavering. The tight bundle of his hair is like liquid metal in my palm. He freezes. "No, glitch it, we can't," I say. "You're not going to come in here, quiz me, annoy me, and then leave, just because you can't handle my reaction. Sit the glitch down and talk to my face. You're not leaving." His torso swivels, almost pulling the hairstalk out of my hand. I clamp down. The bundle doesn't give when I squeeze, the thick, individual strands welded together by forces I don't understand. Under my fingerprints, technosites flow. I can feel them. 2-85 face is a rock, looking at me over his shoulder. "Oh, I'm not?" "No." I pull on his hairstalk, hand over hand, till he's back sitting on the bed. I move beside him, dangling my legs over the side. "Now listen. We have Covenant Zero between us, but that doesn't mean you can come in here like this." "Covenant Zero is exactly why I came in here. Like this." Now that I think about it, maybe I don't fully understand what Covenant Zero means. I probably need to ask JACK about the finer points. "Ask first. That's the way it's gotta be. Don't come into anyplace I'm sleeping without warning again. It upsets me." 2-85 nods. "I mean it," I say, a little louder, a little firmer. "You might agree to this fusing then?" he asks. Glitch, back to business. "I don't know. Maybe. He's the father of my child, and I do remember loving him at one time. Remnants of those feelings still exist in me.." 2-85 grabs my knee. The static doesn't decrease, but changes frequency, going lower, as if sinking deeper inside me. It's like somebody's holding it in their hand, muffling the sound. "Look at me," he says. I do, right into those swirling orbs of wirewitch blue. "You cannot become fused with this Driftling." (hold, what's this?) "What? Why?" He pauses, flicking his eyes to the hand on my knee. I'm more aware of it now, suddenly conscious that my kneecap is resonating with a pleasant tingle under his fingers, and that my legs are bare to mid thigh, on display for him to see. (who gives a glitch he's a wirewitch he doesn't care what you look like) I resist the urge to pull my garment further down my leg, because it would just draw attention. (more attention than your swelled belly angel?) 2-85 shakes his head, bowing it. "Because I've started to remember what it was like, before." "What do you mean before?" "In the alley. The first time we met. When I was...that...my former...ah...I don't know how to describe it anymore." Do you mean when you were Q'and'q? "I don't think I'm supposed to be able to remember that," he says. "Or at least I shouldn't be able to feel what it felt like to be...different from what I am now." "I don't see what this has to do with me," I say, still distracted by his hand on my knee. Why is it still there? "It has everything to do with you. In fact, it's all about you." "What are you talking about?" "The island. The Haven. What I did to you. What you did to me. And how you affected me. We've never really talked about it--what happened in there." Thinking back to when he held me, his hairstalk around my neck, his coarse lips on mine, I shiver. I remember turning it around, making the kiss mine, pulling him to me when he tried to step back. Only the static forced us apart. (admit it angel) (at the end you enjoyed it) (didn't want it to stop) (and now you haven't changed not one glitched bit) "I get upset when I think about what you did to me in there," I say. "Or rather, what you tried to do. Thank God it didn't work." "I still don't know how your body resisted infection, but I'm glad it did. I'm glad you're not a wirewitch." "Y-You are? I don't understand." Like a serpent, his hairstalk slithers across the bed, getting tangled in the bed sheets. Does he even know what it's doing? "I'm not explaining this very well. I'm sorry. What I'm trying to tell you is that, since I'm a wirewitch, it should frustrate me that the witchkiss didn't work on you. But it doesn't; it pleases me. And that's because I've started remember things from before I was changed. When I was first converted, I couldn't. My former life had null meaning to me. But things have been coming back to me recently. I feel now, what I felt...before." My mouth is gaping, but I can't help it. I've never heard a wirewitch talk like this. "Have you spoken with JACK about this?" "Yes. It's happening to her too." "She never said anything to me." Why wouldn't she tell me? What else is she keeping from me? (you have only shaky ground to stand on here) (Athara-Meeatora) 2-85 shakes his head again. "It has only been discussed amongst the coven until now. She probably suspects what we're talking about, but she doesn't know for sure. I'll tell her what I've done later. We have Covenant Zero between us, so she'll allow me this breach. Besides, she would've told you eventually. Either that, or PIIX or 7-07 would've let something slip." "So, what does this mean?" He turns, releases my knee and reaches for me, not quite grabbing both my shoulders, hands hovering. The static increases, but isn't quite to the agony level yet. His head leans in, forehead almost touching mine. "This only started happening since we found you again." "That's crazy! That doesn't make any glitched sense." "Crazy or not, glitched sense or not, it's true. The day we found you, I had my first memory surface. It was during the Covenant Zero ceremony. I remembered seeing you kill those Dokks. But more than that, I remembered how it felt to see you do that." (they had it coming only you didn't finish the job till later) 2-85 closes the gap between his hands and my shoulders. "None of this is important except for this: I now remember how I felt about you before I was turned." Mouth opens. Nothing comes out. Glitch, I must look like a vootch. He's so close, I can smell the unique odor of his mechaflesh. I think he's going to witchkiss me again, and I don't know how I'm going to react if he does. His voice is a buzzsaw, cutting at my ears, rich in frequencies, mingling with my own static. "Remembering that helped explain how I feel about you now." (bzzzz) "What are you saying?!" His nose touches mine, static dropping as if it were crashing to the ground under gravity's pull. "I don't want you to be fused with that Driftling because, syl, I'm in love with you." |
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Post: 04.27.2004 Date: 06.14.2196 Time: Evening Modiespeak ...and then he feathered his lips against mine. He was close enough that he barely moved before I was feeling his texture against mine. Coarse vs. soft. That's what it was. Just like before, only it wasn't a witchkiss this time, just a kiss from a witch. Then he pulled away and left me there, as if all his nerve had been building for that single profession and that solitary action, and then his courage had evaporated at the press of our lips. Wide-eyed and stunned, I found my fingers at my mouth, fluttering and shaky, as if the electric sensation still present there could actually be touched. It's evening now, and standing at the entrance to the domed Haven, the thought I can't get out of my head is: I have a wirewitch in love with me. How many people on this glitch hole of a planet can say that? Simple. My life is anything but. Glitch, somebody somewhere is having a good laugh at my expense. I've avoided everybody for the past couple of days. Sequestered myself and spent most of my time with the coven. Spoke with shea(3)va briefly. She understands, and is willing to give me the time I need, just like the friend she claims to be. I've been summoned by the Sphek every morning, but I've declined. In fact, I haven't left the dome where the coven and I are living. We've been provided food, and oh heaven, water baths! JACK has to help me in and out because they're awkward to navigate when one is swollen to the bursting point like I am, but once I'm in, the static is thoroughly banished, and I can let myself drift into a state of non-thought. In that state, I can almost forget cyn(7)dar, and that he's waiting for my answer to his proposal. Almost, but not quite. cyn(7)dar. 2-85. And even...no, he's not coming back to me. What the glitch am I gonna do about them? I enter the Haven. It's not surprising that it's empty--there're only Driftlings in this city, so there's little need for refuge. Except for Athara-Meeatora and her friends. I find Kiiziiziixii on her knees in the Sanctuary. She's praying with sunken head and folded hands in front of a small, carved neoplastic altar. On either side, candles burn, but the altar itself is empty. The twin guns and the pulse dagger she usually carries are in a pile next to the altar. Her cloak is folded neatly beside her weapons. She's discarded them, but they're always within reach... She's been living here, instead of with the rest of us. Don't know why, and I haven't asked. Maybe she doesn't feel safe if she's not in neutral territory. I'm not sure I like to think of Kiiziiziixii not feeling safe. She senses me as I approach. Her hair talons screech across the hard floor as she swivels. Even though her hair hides most of her face, I glimpse wet cheeks. Glitch I'm a stupid vootch. I shouldn't be here. I stop. "Hello, syl," she says. "Have you come here to speak with your deity? Do you pray?" "I-I don't know." Yes. But I don't know to Who. "You should. It helps." "Who do you pray to?" "God in heaven." "What do you pray about?" "I just talk. God listens. I don't ask for things, except forgiveness for the wrong I've done, and for the wrong I will do in the future." "And your God forgives?" She grunts, but it sounds more like a sob. "I've confessed all my sins, but I'm not sure if there's enough forgiveness for some of the things I've done. And I know there's not enough for the things I'm going to do." She looks me right in the eye then, and I can see that she's a nanosecond away from tears. "I can talk to you later," I say. "Now's not a good time." "Is this about the Driftling who claims to be the father of your baby?" she asks, her voice recovering its normal calmness. "Yes. How did you know?" "I'm observant. Is he the father?" "Yes." "And you want my opinion. Is that it?" "Your opinion, and your advice." A pause. The Sanctuary hums with the faint sounds of our collective breathing. Then: "I'm not qualified for either. When it comes to men, I..." She turns away, brings her arms around torso in a self-hug. "...I've made too many mistakes." I'm disturbed by her behavior. This is not the Kiiziiziixii I'm used to dealing with. This is not the Kiiziiziixii I know. Humble and penitent, she's not the mercenary here. She's not the killer. Something's opened her up, made her vulnerable. I'm not supposed to be seeing this. "Why are you even asking me?" Kiiziiziixii asks, her voice muffled by her hair. "Why do you care what I think?" "It's just like you said before." I run a hand through my hair, let it fall across my face. A long bench off to one side catches my eye. I ease down onto it, putting both hands down first, then my buttocks, careful of my swollen belly. Am I gonna be able to get back up? "Our paths have crossed, and they haven't yet uncrossed. I know what cyndar thinks. I know what the coven thinks. Now I want to know what you think." "I don't know if I can--" "He wants me to join with him, to become blod (mat) with him. It is a Driftling custom, since he is the father of my child. It...happened on the island, before the fall of cyberspace." "Does he love you?" "He tells me he does. I believe him when he says it." (oh do you?) (really) "And do you love him?" "I...I don't know. I barely understand what that means. I think--I mean, I remember loving him...before." (oh, is that what that was angel? love?) (good to have that finally cleared up) "If you don't love him, why would you enter into this relationship with him? Or do you just not believe in love?" "I didn't say I didn't love him," I retort, feeling a little queasy. This late in the day? Glitch. How many more months is this thing gonna stay inside me? "I said I didn't know. As for love--I guess I believe in it. sheava and vannis seem to be happy. I just don't know what it's like to love another person like that. At least, I can't remember if I've ever felt that way before." (no you haven't angel because you're too glitched impatient) (remember your failure) (with Phoenix) (with cyndar) (with--) (--the other) I remember, glitch it. Mind won't let me forget Phoenix, and there's a baby inside me to remind me of cyndar. But you're wrong, there is no other. (...) "How...unfortunate." "Why do you say that?" "Because love. It exists. It's available. It's possible." "You know this?" "Yes." "Who--?" "Don't ask. I don't talk about it." "Being here may help me remember more about my past." Well, there it is. My master argument. JACK was right to ask me about this. Kiiziiziixii straightens up, but keeps her back to me. "And you think that becoming blod (mat) with cyndar might trigger additional memories?" Her tone of voice, though flat, implies a certain absurdity to this line of thought. "It's possible. Since I've been here, I've recalled one major event from my past. The longer I stay, the more I immerse myself in this culture--the more my memories may be able to break loose." "But you don't know that. Not with any real certainty." "If there's one thing I've learned in my waking moments so far, it's that I can't predict the future. Instead, JACK and I decided to glitch it." Kiiziiziixii sniffs at that. "If love is possible, then you think I should..." I let my words trail off, waiting for her to finish the sentence. "No. I don't," Kiiziiziixii snaps. "They are dangerous. These Driftlings cannot be trusted. Don't take that personally. You may be one of them, but you're different somehow." "I am Driftling," I say, feeling a spark of anger stoke the waiting ember of static within me. "I knew that from the first moment I saw you on the island, but just because you are of their race doesn't mean you are like them. You are not, and you know it. They all acknowledge it; you should too." She's right, and it burns at me, feeds the static. "I do. Really. Sorry. You're right." "Good, a step forward," she says, pressing her forehead to the floor one last time, then pushing back up, standing, gathering her weapons and throwing her cloak of her shoulders. She turns to face me, her hair undulating of its own accord, just a head full of fanged serpents. "As for what you should do. I can't tell you that. I won't. I can only tell you what I will do." "And what will you do?" She holsters her weapons and slides the pulse dagger into a sheath on her hip. I wonder if she's hiding other weapons elsewhere on her body. "It would seem that our paths have come to a divide. I will stay if there is a need. However, if you accept this Driftling's proposal, then the need for me will have passed. I will leave you to your people and to this place. Eventually, your memories may return. You may even find love here, with him as your mate. If that's how your story will end, then I cannot discourage you from pursuing that goal." How did your story end, modie? "Who was he?" I ask, knowing I shouldn't, but unable to stop my mouth. Kiiziiziixii's face goes blank. Her whole body tenses, and I feel like I just poked a finger into an open wound. "Don't ask me that ever again, or--" Cutting herself off, she strides past me and out into the night. Well, I glitched that up. Good job, me. Despite being alone within it, the Sanctuary feels warm and comforting. The candles still burn. I move to where Kiiziiziixii was kneeling. It's difficult to get down on my knees, but I manage it somehow, joints creaking, popping. I interlace my fingers, not knowing what I'm supposed to do. Not precisely at least. And there, between the hectic haze of the candlelight, I bow my head and whisper. It's little more than talk. Little more than a pathetic plea for guidance. But it feels good, and it makes the static go away for awhile. I don't know how long I'm there, but eventually my supplications are interrupted by footsteps behind me. I turn, embarrassed even though I shouldn't be. It's cyn(7)dar. "I thought I might find you here," he says. His hair picks up golden light from the candles, making his multi-colored strands even more vibrant. With those curved bones protruding out of his head, he looks like a creature that should never set foot in a sacred place. "You used to come here every day." "Why are you here?" I'd stand, but it'd require a lot of visible effort on my part. He might try to help, and I don't want that. "You've been avoiding me for the past few days." "I need time. You know that." Static's back. Wow, it's painful too, seeping from my brain, into my neck and out to my shoulders. "I know," he says. "That's exactly why I'm here. I do love you, syl--" (so does _____) "--and I know you don't love me back. I've accepted that now." Having a hard time concentrating on his words. Static's vibrating within me, creeping through the rest of me, seeping down my arms, down my abdomen. God, it hurts! "What are you saying?" "I came here to tell you that I'm sorry I've put so much pressure on you. Starting now, that's going to stop. I love you enough that...I'll let you go." "Oh..." I say, suddenly chilled. "Along with that, I need to rectify my mistake. You can consider my blod (mat) proposal withdrawn." |
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Post: 05.24.2004 Date: 06.30.2196 Time: Midday His Angel's Kiss Thirty Seconds Ago - ??? "I'm a Driftling," I say. "I need to start living like one." "You want to..." His eyes betray his surprise, his hope. "Yes. I don't know all the specifics, but yes, I want to make things right with myself. With my Driftling heritage. With you. With us. I will enter into blod (mat) with you." Sixteen Days Ago - shea(3)va When I tell shea(3)va that cyn(7)dar has retracted his proposal, she nods solemnly at first, then explodes into girlish giggles. "What's so glitched funny?" I ask, trying to be mad, but unable to because she looks so happy and unconcerned. And because a part of me wants to dissolve into giggles right beside her--to feel what she's feeling. "It's just cyndar. That's how he talks. He's always been that way. So proper and so formal. He gets worse around you, because of how he feels. I can't help it; it always makes me laugh." "I don't know what to do." "Poor syl," shea(3)va says, smoothing my hair back, grasping my neck. "You're just a silly girl after all. Boys're always trying to getcha naked." "Eat glitch," I mutter, but she's made me smile. Two Days Ago - (2)syl As I make my way toward the dome where I'm staying, my thoughts turn to cyn(7)dar--like they seem to do every day around this time. He's come to see me every day for the past two weeks, in the afternoon, before the evening meal. Usually, we're alone for an hour or two. We talk. Him mostly. We sit in one of the larger rooms sipping sweetened liquid from synthetic cups, and he tells me stories from our childhood. I find myself happy more than sad at those stories. Laughing more than crying. Either way, the emotions they stir are welcome. I can't recall the events he describes, but at times...I almost think I can. The desire within me to have those stories take shape is strong enough that I begin to convince myself that I can remember. That feeling never lasts more than a few seconds though. Reality is still too evident. The black hole that is my past continues to stink of rancid emptiness. I find myself a little frightened at how quickly I've become comfortable with cyn(7)dar again. We moved past his proposal with relative ease. Neither of us has mentioned it since. I think he understands now. I'm not sure if somebody talked to him--maybe shea(3)va--or if he decided to change his behavior on his own, but this past week with him has been pleasant. Even better than that, I've found myself enjoying his company. And even scarier than that, I've found myself reconsidering his proposal. Yesterday - em(0) I'm walking alongside em(0), and I'm trying to remember the last time I giggled. Glitch, I want what shea(3)va has. That light in her soul. That vibrancy. I'll bet I had some of it before, when we were growing up together. If that's true, I lost it somewhere along the way. I wonder when. "...and then I married a Technomancer and we had seventeen robot children," em(0) finishes. She stops walking. "What?!" I ask, halting beside her. "You weren't listening. Now you are." She's not smiling. "I'm sorry." "So, cyndar has released his claim for blod (mat) with you?" em(0) asks as she starts walking again. She already knows the answer, but I haven't visited her in over two weeks, and I haven't been volunteering information to anybody. She hasn't brought it up till now, so she must have a lot of patience. "Yes," I say. em(0) nods. A breeze sweeps hair across my face. I let it go, ignoring the ache in my calves and my back, and take a breath of air as clean as any I've ever breathed. We're walking a curved path worn around the city. Cloakless Driftlings wander between the domes, going about their normal, daily routines. Mothers with daughters. Fathers with sons. Little lost children. "And how did that make you feel?" she asks. "Relieved." "Relieved? That's all?" "Yes." No. em(0) looks at me, trying to discern the truth in my words. I only see her out of my peripheral vision, but she must be uncertain enough because she doesn't challenge me. "What he did--" "It was nice. I appreciated it." Glitch, I interrupted her. I need to stop doing that. em(0) glares at me. "It was more than that. Blod (mat) is the only thing that can remedy the situation you two have created. This child within you should not have been conceived--not till you two had agreed to become blod (mat) with each other. Not before a proper Joining Ceremony. cyndar's offer held great honor. Withdrawing it holds no honor. He has doubled his disgrace by doing this. His lif (pah) has never proceeded along the narrow path. This is simply further proof of that." "I don't know what that means." "That's obvious." "I may be a Driftling, but I don't know how to act like one. Don't hold that against me. It's not my fault I can't remember." "If you can't remember, then how do you know it isn't your fault?" She's right. That's a possibility. "I don't." "Accept that and take responsibility. Just because your memories are hidden from you doesn't empower you to avoid your obligations--to your past or to your people. And especially not to yourself." "What do you want me to do?" "Make things right with your Driftling heritage. Make things right with cyndar. Enter into blod (mat) with him. The Joining Sequence begins tomorrow and will last for five days. There would be adequate time to prepare if the ceremony were held on the fifth day." The static in me doesn't like what she's saying. Doesn't like being told what to do. It's irritated, and so am I. "It's that simple?" "It is. If you let it be." I stop. I plant my feet. em(0) walks a few more steps, but eventually turns, her walking stick trailing a furrow in the dirt. "What is it, syl? I see that you do not agree." She shakes her head. "In many ways, you are the same as you always were. Your memories may be avoiding you, but the part of you which embodies Athara-Meeatora burns brightly." "If I choose to enter into blod (mat) with cyndar, it will have nothing to do with my Driftling heritage." Seven Days Ago - cyn(7)dar "What are we talking about today?" cyn(7)dar asks. He sits across from me, in the same position as he usually does. "Names," I say. "For the baby. I need your help." He leans back, spreads his arms wide along the top of the wide chair, careful not to spill his drink. Today, his arms aren't wrapped, and bulging muscles are all I can see from his shoulders to the tips of his fingers. Lesh (writ) follows the tight curves of his arm, accentuating the muscles with tendrils of black. The patterns look like fingers, gripping him, holding him with gentle caresses. The soft effect contrasts with the raw power held in check there. I wonder at the memory of holding him--all that strength held in check by the circle of my arms. He takes a mouthful of liquid, swallows. "The baby is named by the mother. The father is never consulted." "I don't really care about that. I'm asking you because I don't know enough about Driftling customs yet to do everything right. I need your help." "So I'm supposed to ignore custom around you?" "Not all of it." He laughs. "You haven't changed. You really haven't. Spoken like the Athara-Meeatora." "Are you trying to annoy me? Don't call me that right now. The only thing I'm in the mood for is talking about baby names." That, and a massage from 2-85, if he'd be so kind. Glitched calf muscles. Glitched compressed spine. Glitched pregnancy. God, I can't wait to get this thing out of me. "Custom was never your concern. You always bent it to your whim. I don't expect you to change. In fact, I don't want you to." "Good." "Our child should have a sequential number, following from your name and your mother's. Your mother was nia(1)na. You're (2)syl. So, the baby should be named with a (3) designation." He stops. I wait for him to continue. When he doesn't, I ask, "That's it?" "The list of possible names is staggering. All of them have different meanings. I don't think you want me to start listing off my personal favorites." "Glitch what you think. I think I do want that." "We have a library. Maybe you should look through it." "And maybe you should look through it with me." In one swift motion, he sets his drink down on the table, stands up, takes one step, and sits down right next to me. "I'll do just about anything you want. You should know that by now." Even violate Driftling customs. (because he loves you) (and you continue to let him violate custom for you) (maybe it's time you put a stop to it) (maybe it's time you took some responsibility for your past actions) Yesterday - em(0) "So, you are considering blod (mat) with him after all?" em(0) asks, raising an eyebrow. "I see. And what would you base your decision on? His ties as father of your child? Mythical feelings you can't even describe? Attraction? Love?" Taking both sides of the argument? What game are you playing at, em? "Something like that," I say. His ties as father. Yes. Feelings? Attraction? Yes. Love? No. That can't be a reason yet. I don't love him. (yet) But, at the core of the matter, this isn't about love. It's about-- (angel) em(0)'s eyes narrow. "What do you know about these things? You are a youngling, and you have no memories." "You're wrong," I spit. "I ceased to be a youngling the second I left this place. I may not remember it, but I know that's when it was. As for memories...well, I have one, and it just might be the only one that matters." "I'm not sure you know what matters anymore." She's holding my gaze with all the force of a tractor beam. I can't pull away. "The reason you make a decision is as important as the decision itself." "That may be, but the decision is still mine." em(0) starts walking, doesn't look back to see if I'm going to follow. "Yes, it is. We cannot force you to do what you know you should." She stops, appearing to change her mind, turns around, and comes back to me. Her movements are so swift, they seem to contradict her age. Those two red bands of hair stream back against her ears. She's up close to me before I can react. I try to take a step back, but one hand whips out behind my neck, the other placing her walking stick just behind my heel. "Wha--?" I squeak. Six Days Ago - cyn(7)dar bz!!zz %hhkl7 z!!z!z zIkk%4 zz-- cyn(7)dar's hand is covering my own suddenly. The static's gone. Just like I knew it would be. Just like with Phoenix. And just like it did before--last time cyn(7)dar touched me, outside the city. I can love him if he takes the static away. I don't know if he's noticed, but I find an excuse to touch him during each of our afternoon conversations. I can't help it. I don't understand what's causing this static in my brain, but bare skin contact with cyn(7)dar takes it away. I don't know what to think of that, just that I'm craving his touch more and more because of the effect. Behind vertical streaks of yellows and greens, cyn(7)dar returns the smile I just blasted his way. He puts his other hand over mine, trapping mine between his two. "nijah and ela are two names I've always liked. We will have to check the Sphek registry to make sure no known Driftling is called by either of these though." "You're telling me no Driftlings share the same name?" "None that live." "Wait," I say, the absence of the static affording me a moment of clarity. "How many other Driftling cities are there? How do you communicate names to them?" cyn(7)dar lifts his hand from mine, brushes hair from his face, tucking it behind his ears, returns his hand to where it was. When he speaks, it's in a low voice. "We don't communicate with them." "Why not?" "Because there are no other cities. This is the last." "Oh," I say and then shut my mouth, because I really don't have anything else to say. "After the annexing of Athara, the Free States did their best to weaken the Driftlings so we would never be a real threat again. They struck a bargain with the Eastern Unified League. The EUL sent their military might--the Species--into Athara to hunt us down. For the most part, they succeeded. Our numbers were severely reduced and we were scattered. If it weren't for the greed of the Free States, the Driftlings might be extinct instead of just endangered. The Free States reneged on parts of their bargain with the EUL. Consequently, the EUL turned its attention away from us and placed it onto the Free States. The Free States realized the error of their ways and quickly entered into new arrangements. The real fighting stopped about eighteen years ago. Most of us were born around that time, so we're too young to remember the core of the fight--just the results of it. Eventually, we gathered here. We remain subject to Free State influence and law. Just a city of Free States citizens as far as the CorpGov hierarchy is concerned. We pay taxes, and we have voting rights--at least we did before cyberspace fell. We haven't had any contact from the CorpGov since then. I can honestly say that we're fine with that." "I'm sorry," I say. "About all of it. How many of...us...are there?" "Less than five thousand." "Glitch," I whisper, not wanting to believe him. "We're almost extinct." cyn(7)dar exhales, finger moving to trace the lesh (writ) on the back of my hand. He gives no indication that he knows he's doing it. A ripple runs up my arm. "Birth rates are low. Of the small percentage that actually conceive, only one in three results in a successful live birth." My hand's on my belly, but I don't remember putting it there. I'm scared. For me. For my child. cyn(7)dar notices. "Our baby will be fine. You're not like us. You have no deformities. There's no reason to believe you will have any of the problems that would normally affect a Driftling." Except for the fact that it's your dispurified seed that did this to me, cyndar. I'm scared for my baby. God, let her/him be okay. Yesterday - em(0) Holding me, em(0) brushes hair away from my forehead, tucking it behind my ear. The sudden tenderness in her face and in her movements freezes me in place. "You are as beautiful as ever. No wonder they're drawn to you." They? I'm speechless. "You have grown more beautiful with age," em(0) says, smiling, eye-corners crinkling. "Just like your mother did." "Beautiful?" I mutter, throwing my arms out, repressing a shiver at the wicked designs inscribed all along my limbs. "I don't think this is beautiful. It's pollution. I feel scarred." em(0)'s smile fades. One hand slips to trace the design on my shoulder. "The lesh (writ) is what separates us from the other races. In it, we are unique. You should bear it proudly." I lower my head. "If I could remember, maybe I would." em(0) lifts my chin. "I cannot pity you in this thing. You are Driftling. The lesh (writ), even though it has manifested late in life, is part of who you are. Never forget that. One day, you will be taught to read it. Then, maybe you will understand how beautiful it is." "When the Sphek examined me, I was watching their faces, and yours. None of you were looking at a thing of beauty. You were concerned--scared even. Why?" em(0) steps back, careful, her back hunched. This time, she looks as feeble as her age implies. "I cannot tell you that yet. It is too soon, and you are not ready." "Fine. When will I be ready?" She smiles, breath whistling through her lips. "Think about what I've said. Think about everything. I have every confidence that you will make the right choice." "The right choice? About what?" I ask, talking to her back now as she walks away from me. "About everything. That's what Athara-Meeatora does. At least, that's the way I remember my adopted daughter." Three Days Ago - cyn(7)dar It's been two days since I've talked with cyn(7)dar. I was feeling particularly nauseous, so I stayed in bed all day. JACK wouldn't let anybody see me. Two days... The urge to have bare skin contact with him is almost uncontrollable. cyn(7)dar stands to help me. I wave him back. I don't need him to help me sit down; I need him to take the static away! As I ease down into a padded chair, I wonder if I can get 2-85 to run his hands over me later. Muscles are aching all over my body. He can help, if I can get him to. If I can swallow the awkwardness between us. (you haven't talked to him since) (then) (think he'll help? does your gravity tug at him with that much force?) "You were walking with em yesterday," cyn(7)dar says. I bob my head, reaching for the cup he hands me. It's cool and smooth in my hand, and the liquid inside chills my throat as it slides down. I sink deeper into the chair, wiggling to get comfortable, the chair cushioning reforming to my body's shape. I sigh, leaning my head back. At the top of the dome, a ring of spherical lights provide a constant glow that permeates the room. Between the thick ribbing that provides support for the wall material, painted designs traverse the circumference of the room, only broken by the occasional doorway. The designs are reminiscent of the lesh (writ). Thankfully, I've overcome most of my fear of them. I may not like to look at myself in the mirror, to see the patterns splashed there, but viewing my lesh (writ) doesn't fill me with dread anymore. The designs on the wall--I can almost appreciate them, find beauty in them even. The circle of chairs surround a low, circular-topped table. The reflective black surface of the table tosses dimmed images of an upside-down cyn(7)dar at me. "What did you talk about?" he asks. "This and that. Why didn't you tell me that she raised me? How could that not have come up in our conversations?" "She told us not to; she wanted to tell you herself. Said you weren't ready to know right away." Now there's truth, if there is such a concept anymore. "You should've told me anyway," I say, but my voice lacks conviction. I try to make up for it with a firm expression. "You should've asked." That's another thing about cyn(7)dar. I find it easy to misinterpret his intentions. Like shea(3)va said, around me he gets formal and doesn't always say the right thing. Around me, he's careful with words. What he just said was a breakthrough. Those were not careful words. I can't help it. I laugh. And the way he brushes uncontrolled tangles of yellow and green from his face almost has me giggling from the solemn look he uncovers behind them. In his eyes, I can see his desire for me, his struggle for control. Through the static, my mind tells me that I'm being affected, and not just by a minor case of physical attraction. (but he's not the only one you've ogled) The image of him on top of me--almost inside--flashes, static blazing like a million stars, the mix of his hair brushing my chin, the press of his fingers, the reflected blue of my hair in his eyes as he-- He came for me. Looked for me, sought me out on that island. Tried to rescue me. Almost did. When everybody else had given up, he wouldn't quit. That's how deep his love for me goes. I can't deny it; part of me, like it or not, responds to that. I'm conflicted. Part of me wants him to go away. Part of me wants just the opposite. How did he get through my defenses so easily? I'm starting to...no, that's not possible... ...only it is. Because, in spite of everything...I don't hate him. "You're laughing at me," cyn(7)dar says. "Why?" "I'm sorry." I manage to stop, because I'm swimming in the static's cloud of confusion, and because I shouldn't be laughing. "I just think I'm beginning to like you again, that's all." Yesterday - em(0) "Wait," I say, walking fast to catch up with em(0). Glitch, with this belly, can't move fast enough anymore. "You adopted me?" "When your mother disappeared, you were too young to live by yourself. Somebody had to look after you..." em(0) turns her head away, as if her face might betray something. I hesitate to ask, but I have to know. When the words come, they're a whisper and only barely in a questioning tone: "My father..." "He died before your mother disappeared, but yes, you had one. His name was (4)akel." Three Days Ago - cyn(7)dar (that's all? you like him? what are you, twelve?) Silence. Like. Frozen. Death. (uh, angel, you just said that out loud) cyn(7)dar's jaw actually drops. Only for a second before he catches himself, closing it. He lets his hair fall back across his eyes. Unsure how those words slipped out. Got careless. The static distracted me, made me do it. I'm a little disturbed to realize that I'm glad I said it, got it out in the air, but there's a thrill-sliver that runs through the disturbance. It jumbles my emotions till it's hard to tell what I'm feeling here. (excited and disgusted) "Um, that didn't come out how I expected," I say, "but please don't take it to mean that...well, you know...that I--" "syl, don't worry. I won't." "It just slipped out." He smiles, but darkly. "Truthfully, I'm glad it did, but I'm surprised you said it." "So am I. It's not a lie." He deserves to know that at least. cyn(7)dar leans forward, the horns on his forehand casting long shadows down his face. "Is this what we're talking about today?" Before I can answer he adds, "I don't want you to be uncomfortable." "No, this isn't what we're talking about," I say, reaching out to grab his hand, suppressing a sigh as the static leaves me. Much better. Let's stay like this for awhile. But there's a part of me that does want to talk about it. It's the same part of me that has to admit I don't know the first thing about taking care of a baby, and that maybe he can help with that. Oh, and maybe being around him will help me retrieve my memory. Yesterday - em(0) father(4)akelfather(4)akelfather(4)akelfather(4)akel I have a father. (had, angel) (had...) Again, I can only whisper an aborted: "So you..." "Took you in, treated you like you were my own daughter. Loved you like you were my own." How am I supposed to react to this? What am I supposed to feel? She's my... ...other mother. "I don't know what to say," I say, stumbling on a rock, finding that I'm short of breath, stopping. She keeps moving. "I know. When you do, come and talk to me. I would be nice if my daughter knew me again." Her words leave me bewildered and weary. I stand there, stupid and confused, thinking about nothing, thinking about everything, wondering if I'm supposed to follow her. I stand there for a few minutes. Eventually, my ankles and back remind me that I'm carrying more weight than they'd prefer. Feels like somebody's driven spikes into my shins and screws into my spine. Glitch, and now the static wants to play too. I had a mother. I had a father. I had friends. I had a lover. But I don't have all of those now. Yesterday - cyn(7)dar Today, there's been mostly silence between us. We're not angry with each other, just lost in our own thoughts. As my thoughts drift, em(0)'s words come to me: Make things right with your Driftling heritage. So simple to suggest. So difficult to heed. Glitch her. It's not like she's the one that would be committing herself to a man she barely remembers. Two parts of me are in a battle. One part doesn't care about my heritage because I can't remember it. The other part wants to put things back in order--make them the way they're supposed to be. The first path is the easy way; it requires nothing from me other than stubbornness and apathy. Now the second path...much more is required of me. It requires me to become blod (mat) with cyn(7)dar. It requires me to embrace Driftling customs I feel little obligation to. It would give cyn(7)dar what he wants. It would give me something I want: the presence of a father in my child's life. It might bring my memory back. It will drive the coven and Kiiziiziixii from me. It will close the door on Phoenix and 2-85 for good. If those two doors were even open. Glitch, why do they persist? Why can't I banish them? No way I should have these sorts of feelings for a wirewitch is there? I need to purge this confusion. Why can't I put them behind me? Especially Phoenix. I left him. He didn't want me. I didn't take the Skreamer. The chances of him finding me are remote. No more con artist. No more warlock. That leaves me with the Driftling who managed to impregnate me on the first try. cyn(7)dar's voice is clear and calming, piercing the silence that's settled. "I know things aren't perfect between us yet, but I'll be here for you however I can. Driftling customs be glitched. Just like when we were kids." "No," I say, unable to suppress a smile, thinking of what it must have been like back then. "That's not what I want. You can't keep breaking with custom because of me." "Okay, then what do you want, syl?" He's closer now, making sure I know he's giving me all of his attention. Looking into his eyes, I feel like I'm at the center of a universe, and the cosmos is spinning. Around me. The image of him on top of me appears. The warmth we created in my space back on the island, the friction of bare skin against bare skin, the building intensity, and then our...failure--it all slams into me. Leaves me gasping, not unpleasantly. I swallow, finding my heartbeat sped up and my lungs constricted. The static's mixed in there too, complicating my body's normal functions. I can't breathe. "I want you to be around for the birth. I want our child to have a father. I want our child to know you. I want to know you better. And I..." (you...what? gonna finish that sentence?) (be wary of how you proceed here angel don't) (do something stupid) "You what?" he asks, his deformed hand sliding forward. I reach out, letting two fingers touch the lesh (writ) on the back of his hand. The static disappears, amputated from me like a diseased appendage. Like before, absence equals bliss. I prevent my eyes from rolling back into my head, but just barely. I exhale. I think I loved him before, and I can love him again if he makes me feel this way. "Are you feeling well?" he asks. I can love him if he takes the static away. (what about your con artist? have you forgotten already?) No, but this one is here, now. I can love him eventually. Maybe, perhaps, possibly...starting this second. I transmit a smile to him. "I am now." One Hour Ago - 2-85 Nearing the dome, I feel the tingle of anticipation poking through the blanket of static that always seems to be there now. There's something different about today. I'm looking forward to seeing cyndar. (angel, what about you-know-who? don't you look forward to seeing him too?) This is about cyndar, nobody else. Morning and noon meals I eat with the coven. For the evening meal, shea(3)va and van(9)nis come over. cyn(7)dar stays. With the four of us together, I can almost believe I belong in this place. I can't remember how it was, growing up with these friends, but I have a glimpse of what it must have been like. They way we interact. The way we talk. The way we make each other laugh. They've done their best to be patient with me over these past weeks, to make me comfortable. It's worked. Despite everything that's happened since I woke up naked and bleeding in that alley, I can honestly say that when I raise my lids in the morning, JACK sprawled next to me, the thought of being here, with my friends, with my people--I'm happier than I've ever been. There's comfort in familiarity. I know that. Haven't reached familiar yet with anything in this place, but I'm getting there. I'm smiling to myself as I pass through the dome entrance. The coven should be outside the city still. JACK didn't tell me what they were doing, but said they'd be gone all day. The look on JACK's face kept me from asking additional questions. Entering the common room, I catch a glimpse of 2-85 passing by one of the doorways. Oh, guess they're back. Either that, or 2-85's returned early. He notices me and hesitates. I follow his gaze, scanning across the room, to cyn(7)dar, who's waiting for me. Back to 2-85. Just a nanosecond of his eyes communing with mine, and then he's gone. Echoed words in my brain:
syl, I'm in love with
you I'm glad 2-85 didn't ask about my feelings for him. I'm not sure what I would have said. Thirty Minutes Ago - cyn(7)dar This time, I'm sitting next to cyn(7)dar. He sat in his normal spot, so I moved closer to him. "What do you want, syl?" he asks. It's a familiar question. I'm not even sure why he's asking it now. What were we talking about? I'm unsure because the static's been burning through me all day, stealing my concentration, whittling away at my short-term memory. The way he asks--so simply--cuts through the wall of static. I place one hand on his cheek, killing the static instantly, not caring whether he'll misinterpret my action, only caring that the static is gone for the moment. I can love him if he takes the static away. He's frozen, watching me, waiting to see what I'll do next. "That is what I want," I say. And so much more. But can you give it to me? And am I willing to take a chance to find out? (finally, the real question comes out, about glitched time) What I say next surprises me as much as it does him. "And maybe," I say, both quieter and louder at the same time, feeling as if I'm not the one speaking, "a little more than this." His breathing deepens. He wets his lips with his tongue, nervous. "You'd better explain what you mean by that, syl. Given our past, and what we agreed to about the extent of our relationship, you're ambushing me with this. I don't know what to think." You're not the only one. I'm on quaking ground here. I may fall. But at least it will be my decision to fall. I swallow hard before speaking. "I don't know if I know the right thing to do. em(0) wants me to adhere to Driftling custom--make things right with you and my heritage. I want those things too. We have history together. I don't remember much of it, but that doesn't mean I can't feel something...for you. And I do feel something. It may not be as strong as what you feel for me, but I have to be honest--it's there. I can't tell if it's because I'm carrying your child or because I remember some of what I felt for you on the island. Or if it's something else. I don't know about any of that. But what I do know is that I'm willing to make a decision, right here." cyn(7)dar leans back, away from my hand. Immediately, the static blast back into me. "syl, you don't have to do--" Frantic to vanquish the static, I grab the back of his neck with both hands, feeling the static leave me, weaving my fingers together behind. "I know." Yesterday - (2)syl Thinking back, I got what I wanted. But did I really want what I got? Now - cyn(7)dar "I can't believe it," cyn(7)dar says. "You want me to be your blod (mat)?" "Believe it," I say. "And nod your head. I know this is what you want." Up. Down. His head moves, as if stunned. Because it feels like the right thing to do, I give him an angel kiss on the cheek. Quick and light, backing off. Then, reconsidering, I go ahead and hug him, awkwardly on account of my swelled belly. His arms come around me. Neither of us speaks, but my mind, empty of static takes the opportunity to rage at me: This isn't love! This is selfishness! This is impatience! This is a mistake! And right here, right now, in this moment, with the static crushed under the touch of him against me, I don't care. Wrong or right, I've made my decision. It's only when we pull apart, several minutes later, that I realize 2-85 has been watching us this entire time from that doorway over there. |
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Post: 07.06.2004 Date: 07.05.2196 Time: Morning The Joining Sequence shea(3)va's hands are practiced at this; she's done it her whole life. Me, I suppose I did it before too, but the skill abandoned me, along with all my other memories. Because of that, she's having to help me. "Did you ever think you'd be here, with me, like this?" I ask her, lifting my bare arms, grabbing for the tightly-wrapped ball of material in her hand, playful. shea(3)va moves her hand back, out of my reach. The thin, silver necklace around her neck gleams. Hanging from it is a pendant whose shape I don't know the meaning of: a vertical line intersected by a shorter, horizontal line. She smiles. "Being with you before your blod (mat) ceremony? Yes. Dressing you, showing you how to get dressed? No." It's morning. We're in the room JACK and I share. Today is the final day of the five-day Joining Sequence, also known as the jo (nin). For me, the past five days have been filled with preparations for the blod (mat) ceremony, which takes place in only a few hours. JACK and shea(3)va have been my constant companions--shea(3)va because she knows what is required of me, and JACK because she's refusing to leave my side. I can't tell if JACK is just trying to protect me or if she's lodging some silent protest against my decision. I haven't found the courage to broach the subject with her, not even when we're alone at night and she's lying in bed beside me. She accepted my decision without facial reaction, but she ducked her chin and hugged me tight enough that I had to fight for breath. I hugged her back, harder than I ever have before, and I'm not sure I know why. I haven't seen cyn(7)dar or 2-85 since I made my decision. cyn(7)dar isn't allowed anywhere near me until the ceremony, and 2-85 has just been absent. I haven't been able to purge thoughts of 2-85 from my mind. I keep wondering what he thinks of me. Wondering what is going on in that technosite-enhanced brain of his. Wondering if he still loves me. Wondering how I feel about that. Oh, and every once in awhile, I wonder about Phoenix too. When that happens, it's a fight to get my thought flows back under control. Right alongside the part of me that wants to wrap my sever-whip around his neck is the part of me that wants to give him another chance to reconsider. But that, like many things which zip through my mind, is illogical. It's not going to happen. I'm committing myself to cyn(7)dar today. Once that happens, I intend to hold to it. For myself, and my child. PIIX and 7-07 have kept to themselves, showing no strong reaction when JACK told them about my decision. Covenant Zero keeps them close to me, but I sense their restlessness. They'd rather be somewhere else. They want to leave this place. I'm not convinced that Covenant Zero can keep the coven near me for much longer. That alliance isn't being replaced by the blod (mat), just superseded. Kiiziiziixii has visited a couple of times. She, like the wirewitches, keeps her strongest emotions hidden from me. I know she'll at least stay for the ceremony today. Beyond that, I don't know how long she'll be around. And a part of me is sad. em(0) has visited me once a day for each day of the Joining Sequence. Each day she instructed me on the intricacies of blod (mat) and the procedures for the actual ceremony. My time with her lasted for several hours each day. By the end of each session, my mind is spinning, filled with symbolism, with lore and tradition, with ritual and liturgy. Today, though, I can feel it--everything is going to change. Today, I take a step towards correcting wrongs. Today, cyn(7)dar will become my mate. JACK--the only other person in the room--stands quietly beside us. She watches as shea(3)va wraps the strips of material around my body using a method I'm not even beginning to grasp, much less memorize. The material is white and stretchy, molding to my curves and angles. It's tight, like a skinsuit, but it breathes even better. The wrappings cover me from my ankles up to my breasts, leaving my shoulders and arms bare. The lesh (writ) on my arms seems even darker when contrasted with the white material of what shea(3)va's wrapping around me. shea(3)va moves behind me, deft fingers winding the material onto my body. "You'll have to learn how to put the cov (rin) on yourself. Don't get used to this kind of service." Looking down, I'm amazed that she accommodated my swelled belly as easily as she did. "I'm worried about taking it back off. You gonna teach me that too?" shea(3)va moves around to in front of me, casting a quick glance and a conspiratorial smile at JACK. "I think cyndar can help you with that." JACK grins a wirewitch grin. Her eyes are dark though. Stilled. Her hairstalk isn't moving. "He already did that once, sort of," I mutter, thinking back to the island. "I don't know all the reasons you're doing this," shea(3)va says, "but I have a good idea where you're coming from. In your heart, in your mind, you're still the syl I've always known. I want you to know that I understand. I support your decision. I know it must be difficult for you--I can only imagine how much." "Thanks," I say, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. "Tell me one thing, syl," JACK grates. "Not that it matters, but do you actually love him?" I'm suddenly dizzy. I close my eyes for a second until the sensation passes. I expected that question a few days ago. Why is she asking this now? (you know the answer to that) "Not yet," I say. "I did once." JACK pauses, but then adds: "I see." shea(3)va affixes the end of one strip using a thin metal tab with teeth, then starts another strip, filling in gaps across my stomach. "You know, you don't have to have sex with him anytime soon." Beyond my control, my cheeks flush--I can feel their heat. Glitch. I look to JACK, but she's just waiting for my reaction, like a scientist watching some experiment. "It's past time to be embarrassed about such things," she says. "That's for glitched sure," shea(3)va says. "It's true though. It's not like he has some claim over you, despite what our traditions are, and despite what em may have told you about your obligations under blod (mat). Don't let him touch you unless you're ready for it." She glances at my belly, places a hand on it. "If you're unsure, just remember what happened the last time. That'll kill any irrational physical desires you might be experiencing in a moment of weakness." "I-I'll keep that in mind," I stammer. Sex. Glitch. Of course he's gonna want it. He's seen me naked before. Safe to say that he'll want more. Glitch! Glitch! Glitch! How could I have forgotten about this? (static) What's wrong with me? I'm not ready to have sex with him! I don't love him yet.
(oh, so you need love
before you'll have sex with somebody now?) Okay, sex doesn't have to be that big of an issue, right? Even though he probably expects it, he loves me enough to not pressure me. He can go without for awhile. Right? He won't want me pregnant like this, swollen and gross like this. Right?
(might want to think
about separate rooms, angel) "He'll have to be patient," I say, amazed at the sound of my own hypocrisy. "Not his strongest characteristic," shea(3)va says, "but for you, he'll do just about anything. I'm sure you already know that." "Yeah." "The same goes for me. I'll do anything for you." "Me too," JACK says. "Anything you require. Covenant Zero binds us tightly, and our friendship--even tighter." "Done," shea(3)va announces, clipping the last strip of material, stepping back, surveying her handiwork. "Glitch me if you aren't a cosmic eyebuzz. I'm actually jealous." "She prefers it if her clothing shows off her bellybutton," JACK says. "Do you have anything else?" I glare at her. "Don't listen to her, shea. Wirewitches have a glitched up sense of fashion." shea(3)va ignores us, handing me new, soft-soled boots. They're different from anything I've worn before. I sit down on the bed and lift my legs to slide them on. Like the material wrapped around my body, they're white. Pulling the first one on, my foot goes in easily. It's a perfect fit. Silver laces zigzag up the sides. I give them a tug and the boot constricts around my ankle. I do the same with the other, then stand back up. Even though the boots are soft, they support my ankles amazingly well. I can't help but smile. "Those are my favorite too," shea(3)va says. "I'm glad they fit." I gape at her. "These are yours? shea, you shouldn't--" "I'm giving them to you." "Thank you. I'll never take them off." Both shea(3)va and JACK laugh at that. Still smiling wide, shea(3)va holds a closed fist out to me. "Here's something else I want you to have. Hold out your hand." "What is it?" I ask, cupping my hand. "Giving gifts goes against custom when it comes to blod (mat) ceremonies. The commitment between you and cyndar is supposed to be gift enough, but I can't help myself. I've been waiting for this for too long. I want you to have this." Something cool and weighty snakes into my hand. A silver mess pools in the center of my palm, flowing along the creases. "It's quicksilver jewelry," shea(3)va says, fingering her necklace. "It's just like this one. You gave this to me after our blod (sis) ceremony. Back then, I didn't have enough money to get you something as nice as I wanted to. I've been wanting to do this for so long." I stare at the liquid in my palm and concentrate on not letting it run onto the floor. "Um, how does it work?" shea(3)va holds her necklace between thumb and index finger. "It's encoded to you. Just take two fingers and dip them into the quicksilver. You'll be able to grab hold of it. Just pull, as if you were pulling on a string. It's already recognized your DNA, so the coding sequence programmed in will take effect as soon as it senses deliberate action on your part. You can put it just about anywhere--your neck, your wrist...anywhere. Don't worry, you're not going to break it." The liquid warms in my hand. I reach two fingers into the little pool and pinch. The fluid seems to stick between my fingers and when I pull them back, a thick strand stretches up. The pool of liquid in my hand shrinks. When it's small enough, I'm able to grab it. The silver strand droops between my hands, quivering at minute quakes of my finger muscles. The surface of the strand looks like a rushing river. "Put it on," shea(3)va says. I reach back behind my neck, connecting the two ends back there. I can feel them flow together, then hold. I look down to see that the necklace has hardened into a form that's similar to shea(3)va's--a single, smooth curve, dipping down between the swells of my breasts. There, at the valley of the necklace, a pendant hangs. It's a duplicate of the one on shea(3)va's necklace. The surface of the necklace still flows, as if alive. I look once again at the pendant. "What is this?" I ask. "It's just a symbol you found when you snuck into cyberspace one day when we were kids." "Did I get caught?" "No," shea(3)va says, giving me a smile that makes her look ten years younger. Her eyes are shining. "What does it mean?" JACK asks, reaching out to run a finger across the surface of the pendant. shea(3)va shakes her head, looking down, as if suddenly sad. "We never found out. It's simply another symbol that's lost its original meaning." I give shea(3)va an one-armed hug, realizing how much I like her, and how easily we get along. "Well, it means something between us. I think that's enough." She hugs me back. "You're right, of course." "I have a gift for you too," JACK says, laying a hand on my shoulder. "JACK! You didn't have to do anything like that!" "You are my friend. I wanted to give you a token of our friendship." She hands me two tiny objects. "They're lobeclips." I do nothing to hinder the smile breaking out across my face. "They're beautiful." And they are, two shimmering, conical corkscrews that taper to points, hanging from short, intricate links. When I put them on, I can feel their gentle weight. When I turn my head, they swing against the sides of my neck and the edge of my jaw. "They look good on you," shea(3)va says. "sheava helped me picked them out," JACK says. "The Driftling we bought them from told us they were created before the comet." "Thank you, JACK," I say, grabbing her hand, then one of shea(3)va's, squeezing. "I'm glad you two are here." "I'm not done," JACK says. "I have one more gift for you." She turns to shea(3)va. "But it must only be between syl and myself. Can you give us some time alone?" "Of course," shea(3)va says, raising an eyebrow at me. She's obviously reluctant, but she leaves without another word, closing the door behind her. JACK stands in front of me, raising her hands to the base of her neck. Her arm muscles flex, her fingers moving back there. Then, she jerks, clenching her eyes for a second, one arm yanking outward. When she lowers her arms, something catches the light in front of her body. Whatever it is, it's visible for only a fraction of a second, then it's gone, my eyes unable to track it. Her hands move in midair, performing some ritualistic procedure, but no, that's not it. Her movements are hesitating, as if she's trying to grab at some invisible flying insect. It's several more seconds before I realize that she's holding something between each of her thumbs and forefingers. Whatever it is, it catches the light again, a thread of blue, winking on, then off. Her hands are moving more confidently now, with tighter motions. She's winding something; I can see it taking shape in her hands. It's circular, and it sparkles as she works. Suddenly, she's done and holding it out to me. I'm grabbing at it even as I realize what it is, and what it's made of. It's a bracelet. And it's wound from a hair from one of JACK's hairstalks. I never knew individual hairstalk strands were this thin. The bracelet is wound tight, but I can make out the fine weave. It's so light, I can barely believe it. Though, I doubt I could break it if I tried. I hold it up to the light, where it scatters a rainbow of blue hues at me. "I don't know what to say." "You don't have to say anything. Put it on." (hold it. do you really want to do that? it's infested.) She must see my hesitation because she says, "It cannot harm you." "How do you know that? It still has technosites." "I know because it came from me. I wouldn't do anything that would endanger you. We have Covenant Zero between us. Not to mention the fact that I'm your friend. Besides, you're immune." (do you trust this witch with your humanity, angel? do you really?) I'm immune, is my last thought before I shove my left hand through the bracelet. It settles at my wrist, then seems to constrict until it's molded to my skin. I take a sharp breath. For some reason, images of Aran burst into my mind. The images of my Chrome Knight are quickly replaced by feelings of anger and loneliness--the entirety of what he left me with. I find myself gasping for breath. "It's okay," JACK says, grabbing my hand, sitting down next to me. "The weave I did causes that to happen. It's not biology. It's physics." "You know my feelings on wirewitches and technosites," I say, putting aside my thoughts of Aran. "You're my friend, and...I trust you. That said, I want to make sure I understand why you're giving this to me." JACK runs a finger along my wrist, tracing the edge of the bracelet. "It is a piece of me. No matter what happens from this point forward, you can know that I'm your friend, and that I'm with you. You will be fused with cyn(7)dar today, and that is a turning point in your life--one which affects our relationship. Though I will always be your friend, your mate must be given priority. He and your child will be your focus from now on. I can understand this. On many levels it is the same with a coven." JACK rubs her shoulder against mine, metaskin rough against my bare shoulder. I shiver. "No matter what happens, I don't want you to forget me." I put my arm around her. "No chance in Eiech of that, bracelet or not." She smiles, a hairstalk sliding down my back, down around my hip. "I just wanted to be sure." Between the press of our shoulders, technosites flow, scurrying along circuitstreams and fleshways. I can almost feel them there, racing in the grooves and tracks of her skin. At that image, I shiver again. I'm quiet for a minute, finding solace in the warmth of a wirewitch's embrace, not wanting to amputate the comfort of the moment with what I have to ask next. I swallow, hard, static beginning to dance, looking into her eyes, slowly swirling spheres. Vocal cords are trembling when I ask. "How long before you leave?" JACK looks away. "I don't know. I haven't made that decision yet." "The others--they want to leave, don't they." "Yes." "And you?" Turning back, her eyes look wetter than they did before, as if she's about to cry. "You're the first friend I've ever had. I don't want to leave. Not ever." Before I can consider the wisdom of it, I say, "Then don't. I want you to stay. I need you here." "I want that too, but the coven must be guided. By me. I must do what is best for all of the wirewitches." "Stay with me," I find myself pleading, static tears brimming. "At least for awhile." JACK sighs. It's a grinding sound that irritates my ears. She hugs me just a little tighter to her. "We will stay at least until your child is born." Something in my throat prevents me from replying. Only a couple more months, and then she'll be gone. "I need to ask you something, syl." I'm still choked up, mired in static. I can't answer. "Do you still intend to follow the rivot bot's instructions? Do you intend to travel farther west? Your relationship with this Driftling has distracted you from your quest. Covenant Zero exists, regardless of your purpose in life, but here, among your people, there is little for us to help you with. Here, you're safe. You don't require our protection." "No, just your friendship," I say, finding my voice, letting a current of bitterness creep in. She's hitting me with this now? Glitch, I asked for it, didn't I? "And you'll always have that. I just want to know what you're planning to do. Just because you've found your people and your home doesn't mean you're done finding answers. You have unfinished business with your past. There's still so much you don't know." "Believe me, I know. My past is a glitch hole." "I'm sorry, I should've waited to bring this up. I guess I can't take it back, but you don't have to give me an answer yet. Just think about it. You owe me an answer, but not today." I finger the witch bracelet. "Are you saying that you'll stay...if I leave?" JACK laughs. "I'm saying that if you go, we will go with you." "Maybe you're wrong. Maybe I need protected right here." (protected from what, angel?) JACK stands. "Let's not talk about this anymore today. You need to concentrate on the ceremony, not what happens after it. We have several months before your child is born, and we won't leave before then. There will be ample opportunity to talk about this." She's right. Now's not the time. JACK brings shea(3)va back into the room, thanking her for her consideration. shea(3)va shoots me glances that indicate I'll be questioned later about what just went on. I'll probably have to tell her. Between blod (sis) there are few secrets. (oh, but you're keeping them anyway, aren't you?) "Let's finish getting you dressed," shea(3)va says, handing me a thin black belt, identical to the one she and the other Driftlings wear. When I've wrapped it around my waist, she hands me my sever-whip. The static lowers when the weapon is back, clipped to the belt, hanging down on my hip. Back where it belongs. JACK holds out my cloak to me. I pull it over my shoulders, but leave the hood at my back. I take Kiiziiziixii's hand mirror from my backpack, giving myself a quick appraisal. The three dots underneath my left eye taunt me. The black of my cloak and my belt contrast harshly with the white of my cov (rin). The only flashes of color are my hair, my eyes, my lips. The witch bracelet, the lobeclips, and the quicksilver necklace glisten with the grayish mix of black and white. "The hood goes up," shea(3)va says. "Your face must be hidden from cyndar during the start of the ceremony. He will not see your face, and you will not see his, until the proper time." "Glitch, I didn't remember that part," I say, lifting my hood. "Good," shea(3)va says, appraising me with an up-down-up glance. "Now you look like a girl waiting for the end of the Joining Sequence, ready for her blod (mat) ceremony." "I don't know if I'm ready," I say. "Really, who ever is?" shea(3)va asks, taking my hand. JACK takes the other. Together, they lead me out of the room. Toward a future of my own choosing. I think. * * * The sun, a couple of hours from setting, beats at my back. In front of me, behind these closed doors and the guards in front of them, the sanctity of the gad (rin) waits. I wait too, for some indication that I can enter. I've been standing here for an eternity, or so my back would have me believe. My ankles feel better than usual, my boots and these tightly-wrapped clothes giving additional support. Peeking from beneath my hood, I catch one of the guards looking at me, watching me fiddle with the witch bracelet--something I've been doing ever since JACK and shea(3)va left me out here with only two stoic guards for company. Glitch! At least they could've given me a chair to sit on. You'd think it'd be difficult to forget that I'm pregnant with this distended belly of mine. I've been rehearsing my part in the ceremony to keep my mind occupied, making sure that I remember what I'm supposed to say, how I'm supposed to respond. I do. The ceremony isn't long; it'll be over quickly. At least there's that: This whole glitched mess will be over quickly. And then I can get on with... ...whatever it is I'm doing with my life. Whatever that ends up being, cyn(7)dar will be a part of it. This ceremony guarantees that. JACK's questions prick at me. I know in my heart that she's right. I have unfinished business with my past. There are still too many mysteries to just let it go. I hope cyn(7)dar will understand. One last moment of hesitation strikes me. It's a moment of self-doubt, one that manages to blurt out: maybe you shouldn't do this; you could just turn around and run before I'm able to push the feeling away. It's still there, but it's at arm's length now, where I can control it, ignore it. I raise my head as the doors in front of me open. Straight in, a long white carpet has been laid down, leading to the center of the room. As I step through the doorway, the static disappears. It's there so often, I can block it out most of the time as long as it's not too intense. As a consequence, sometimes I don't know how much pain it's been causing me until it's taken away. I hear myself sigh, feeling the tension in my back ease. I breathe deep, feeling much better. I keep my head low, letting the hood droop, hiding my face. Small glances to either side tell me that the room is packed, with people filling the circumference of the room, all the way up to the circle of thrones where the Sphek sit. I don't know these people, but they're here to see me. No, that's not quite right. They're here to see Athara-Meeatora. There are hundreds of them, packed in tight with little room to move. Black-cloaked guards line the length of carpet. The room is silent as I walk. Ours is the last blod (mat) ceremony on the last day of the Joining Sequence. This is it. The end of it all. And yet, for cyn(7)dar and myself, it's a beginning. I walk to the center of the room, sensing the bright light falling around me, looking down at the ground, making sure that nobody can see my face. I wait. It's a full minute before I hear em(0) say, "Who is this Atharan that stands before us? Identify yourself." This is it. I take a deep breath before speaking. "My name is (2)syl, native daughter of Athara for twenty years." "And why, my daughter, have you come into the gad (rin) today?" All of this is ceremonial, but it's not part of the ceremony. "I am of age. I have come to enter into blod (mat) with another child of Athara. I have made this choice of my own free will. Will you allow me to enter?" "Is this other child a son or a daughter of Athara?" "He is a native son of Athara." "Very well. Since you are of age, your request for blod (mat) cannot be denied." "Thank you." em(0) calls out, her voice ringing clear through the chamber. "We will wait for this son of Athara to show himself. Kneel and wait, my daughter." These glitched traditions weren't designed for pregnant girls, I think as I struggle to kneel. Getting to the floor is one thing; getting back up is going to be another. Gonna have to do it myself, because cyn(7)dar isn't going to be allowed to touch me until the very end of the ceremony. I come down on my knees hard, feeling rivers of pain shoot into my legs. I let my torso lean forward so I can put some of the weight on my hands. There, that's better. I wait, concentrating on simple breaths, staring at the writing that's been etched across the floor beneath me. Like before, I recognize the individual symbols, but not the words they form, nor the meaning behind them. I'm not waiting long before I hear quiet footsteps to one side, then em(0) asking, "Who is this Atharan standing before us? Identify yourself." The exchange between em(0) and cyn(7)dar is over quickly, and he kneels beside me. "Stand up, children of Athara," em(0) says after a minute, "if you truly desire blod (mat) between yourselves." Rocking back onto my toes, I manage to straighten up, then move to a standing position. There was a moment there that I almost tipped over backwards, having pushed too hard with my hands, but I managed to salvage myself from an embarrassing, not to mention painful, fall onto my backside. Hopefully nobody noticed how precarious my situation was. I sense that cyn(7)dar has moved behind me, his back to me. "Raise your hoods," em(0) commands. I squint from the harsh light when I do. I resist the urge to shield my eyes, instead forcing my arms down to my sides. Peering past the beam, between the thrones, I see the crowd. A rare sight--none of them are wearing cloaks. Scan right without turning my head, I see shea(3)va and van(9)nis. My blod (sis) gives me a brilliant smile, and I realize then that I love her. In that moment, feelings that I've surely felt before, when we were younger, flood into me. I'm in danger of crying, and I'm not even sure why. I can't tell if it's sadness at being unable to recall my past with her, or if I'm just overwhelmed with joy at have regained at part of what I'd lost. Scan left. Kiiziiziixii's there, and beside her, the coven. JACK, in the front, bares her teeth, and I return the expression. PIIX and 7-07 flank her. I flick my eyes over the crowd. No sign of 2-85. I can't turn around, but something inside tells me he's not here. And then, a tear does get out. The blod (mat) ceremony begins. "You stand before the Sphek and these other witnesses," em(0) begins, looking regal and at ease on the throne I'm facing, "as daughter and son of Athara, on the final day of the Joining Sequence. By doing this, you are indicating your desire to be joined as one. "You stand here, back to back--a defensive position, indicating that each of you is committed to the protection of your mate. Atharans love peace, but we are fierce fighters when necessary. If you are committed to your mate, utter your pledges now. In front of these witnesses, reveal your commitment to each other." cyn(7)dar speaks first. "I am cyn(7)dar, son of Athara, and I have loved syl since we were kids. That love has only grown over the years. She is my first love, and she will be my last. I am here today to pledge my life to her. I will provide for her. I will protect her. I will comfort her. I will do anything for her." "Bold claims," another member of the Sphek says. It's (6)flayle. "You would do anything for this girl? Do not let your lust ensnare your tongue. Do not tell me you would love this girl if she were disfigured--I know better." Wait. This isn't part of the ceremony! This isn't anything like what I rehearsed! I can hear the sudden anger in cyn(7)dar's voice when he responds. "That's not true. I will care for her forever. Nothing can change that." "She is not just any Driftling," (2)amlela spits. "You cannot spew these professions and expect us to believe them without proof. She is Athara-Meeatora. She is one of us, and yet, she is unique among us. Physically, she is perfect. She shares none of our deformities." Except the lesh (writ). I've got the worst case of that, and everybody knows it. Glitch, this isn't the ceremony I was prepared for. (2)amlela slaps a hand against the side of her throne. "She is desired by many of our kind, and you presume to claim her for yourself? Your arrogance is staggering. What gives you the right? What makes you different from all the rest that see the beauty and mystery of Athara-Meeatora and want her because of what she can provide them?" He's even angrier now. "I am her friend. I have been for many years. What makes me different is that I don't care whether she's Athara-Meeatora or not." "But she is. Since that is fact, you cannot ignore it." "With the rest of you, that may be true. With me, it is not. syl is my friend--soon to be my mate. When we were younger, syl had only three friends who remained by her side no matter what happened. I was one of those friends. When she was branded Athara-Meeatora, it was equal parts blessing and curse. I was, and remain, her friend through both. Nothing will ever change that." Another voice from behind me. Not sure who it is. Either ikki(5) or dal(4)fin. "You say you're her friend, yet you do not prove yourself to be friendly by your actions." "What the glitch do you mean by that?" Oh cyndar, you know exactly what they mean. That's why you're getting angry. I'm sorry. At least you probably knew you were going to get these questions. Me, I'm unprepared. When it's my turn, it may be too much for me. "syl is with child," comes the simple response. "She is." "Your casual words betray your attitude, cyndar. You discard tradition carelessly. Your lif (pah) has always wandered, drifting from the narrow path at the beckon of the most insignificant gusts of wind. That you think so little of your violations concerns me." "It has not been easy between us, but her lif (pah) calls to mine. We belong together. I have done nothing wrong." em(0) is looking at cyn(7)dar, but since I'm standing between them, her gaze is directed right through me. I feel like cringing at the calm strain I see there. "I feel sorry for you." Is she talking to him or to me? em(0) continues. "You have made a mistake, yet you do not acknowledge it." "I love her, and she loved me. Perhaps what happened between us shouldn't have happened, but that doesn't make it wrong." "It was a mistake," em(0) says, her voice echoing. She holds my eyes with hers, and in those eyes I can see that she's talking to me. Everybody else thinks she talking to cyn(7)dar, but I know better. "Your impatience blinded you. Your lust had to be quenched. Understandable, all things considered. You were young and immature. You still are." "Your words mean nothing." cyn(7)dar's voice is unnaturally even, as if he's having difficulty stopping himself from taking some sort of physical action. "Regardless of what you think, regardless of what anybody believes, I care for syl more than anyone else in the world. We are having a child together. We belong together. That's all there is to it." "Nothing is that simple," em(0) says. "Especially where Athara-Meeatora is concerned." "It is for me. I already told you. That she is Athara-Meeatora makes no difference to me. What I feel for her isn't based on that." em(0)'s eyes continues to burn into me. "You don't know what you're getting into. You're not ready." Why is she saying this? She wanted me to do this! "I am ready," cyn(7)dar says. "And you know it." "Control your tongue, child. So, you would pledge yourself to her forever? Tell me, how long can you maintain this facade of love?" "It is not a facade. I love her." em(0) laughs. "I will judge her relationship with you by my standards. She is my daughter. If any member of the Sphek is qualified to judge, I am. You speak boldly now, but time will have its way with her. Not even Athara-Meeatora is immune to that. Beauty is temporary. Will you still love her when she is old and ugly? Will you still love her when she defies you again and again, putting her desires above your own? Can you love her even as she bends you to her will? Can you love her even when she's mad at you? Can you love her when she curses you? When you have little to give, will you give everything you have to her, leaving you with nothing? She could get sick. Will you hold her hand when she is ill, sweating with fever and vomiting? When she grows old and forgets your name, when she loses all memory of you, will you still love her? When she is old and frail and helpless, will you love her enough to bathe her, to feed her, to clean her--to wipe the stink of her own waste from her decaying skin? Can you continue to love her if she loses a leg, or an arm, or a breast? Will you still love her when she dies?" "I can and I will." No hesitation. em(0) smiles, ducking her head before looking back up. Right at me. Burning. "I see. And will you still love her when she leaves you again?" The room goes silent, filled only with the echoes of em(0)'s question. The pause goes on long enough that I want to turn around and see what cyn(7)dar is doing, see the expression on his face, see if he's angry...or if he's considering that that's the one thing he won't be able to love me for. Amidst it all are swirling thoughts of JACK and her words to me. You have unfinished business with your past. She's right. I do. But cyn(7)dar's a part of that past. He's a part of that unfinished business. First things first. Gotta set this right first, then I can work on the other things. First things first. Silence still holds the room. It's the sound of a corpse in a coffin, long buried and forgotten. I don't breathe. I don't swallow. I find my hand fingering the witch bracelet. There's only a little comfort there, but it's something. cyn(7)dar speaks, his voice low and firm, anger only barely constrained. He's a nuclear reaction held back by only the thinnest of shields. "No matter the pain, no matter the sorrow, I will be true to her." "You would die for her?" "Yes." "And what if she chooses another over you?" (2)amlela asks, voice dripping with antagonism. "Will you love her even then, or will you love her enough to let her go?" His voice is wavering now. I can sense the clench of his fists. "She has chosen me." "So it would seem," em(0) says. "Very well. You are of age. You have made your choice. You will live with it till the day you die. Even the death of syl does not unbind you from blod (mat). You can never be mated to another. Knowing this, what is your decision?" "I will enter blod (mat)." "Stand where you are, child. Wait and listen. We will see if your chosen mate can defend her presence here." I swallow hard and force my hands to my sides. I'm not ready for this. "Speak, child," em(0) says. "Tell us of your commitment to cyndar." I don't even get to open my mouth before the image of 2-85 hits me, only he's not 2-85--he's Q'and'q, and I'm seeing him for the first time, right after JACK and I encountered those three Dokks. His hair is cut close to his scalp and he's got that breather unit. I'm feeling the same sort of initial physical attraction that I felt then. I clench my eyes, but that only brings an image of Phoenix to my mind, back in the city, when he saved me from being run over by that hovercar. I didn't really get a look at the real him then, just some disguise. But it was our first meeting. Mind, why are you doing this to me? Why now? That I was cursed to spend time with Phoenix, to develop feelings for him, and then to have him reject me, is just further proof that Lady Luck has me on her hate list. Glitch you, Phoenix, get out of my mind. Now, first things first. The room has fallen silent again, waiting for my words. I clear my throat, conjuring courage to do what I should, and speak. "I am (2)syl, daughter of Athara, and I have--" I'm spinning at the loud commotion behind me just in time to see the double doors to the gad (rin) slam inward, almost ripped from their mounts. 2-85 appears from the shadows, two Driftling guards groaning on the ground. 2-85 is running impossibly fast and he reaches me in only a second, his hairstalk trailing after him. He grabs my arm, his eyes swirling clouds, and all I can think of is that he's here to tell me that he loves me and that he's going to stop all this foolishness and steal me away. The crowd around us grumbles with shock. Behind him, black-cloaked guards are gathering, already surrounding us. "This ceremony is over," 2-85 says simply. "You're leaving with me. Now." |
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