His nose crinkled in amusement."That is my fault.I wished to approach you, but I was too intimidated."
"Intimidated?"I snorted, set my cup down, and picked up my plate of food, using the narrow utensils to select green pieces of vegetable that were glossy and dark, like jewels.He had, I realized, made all of my favourites from the ship.I poked at a dumpling next, and sighed happily when I slid it into my mouth.
He watched, a little pleased rumble leaving his throat as I started eating with more enthusiasm."You have a very particular presence.If you were abaya – Hm."He stopped and ate a few bites of food.
We weren't supposed to have this conversation until tomorrow.I raised my eyebrows in question, and he lifted one shoulder in an elegant half-shrug.Might as well.
We'd talked at length about how to give him an opening for this conversation.He couldn't justtellme; I had to want to know, otherwise he'd seem uncouth.
"Can I ask you something?"I said, leaning a little closer as I set my eating utensils aside."It might be a little rude."
He blinked at me, surprised, and nodded.Thiswasn'tone of the ways in that we'd planned.But I could go off-script.I'd been improvising for most of my life.
"Grigor was being a shit to me because, on Seraphim, the expectation is that I'm a man because of the genitals I was born with, and men are supposed to behave a certain way – which doesn't include dancing in marn dens or, you know, wearing pink slippers.Honestly, it's basicallyallof me that Seraphim has a problem with.Everything that makes me who I am.So growing up, I learned again and again that I was, on a fundamental level, broken, corrupted,disgusting.And when it became clear to everyone else that I'm not… what they expected, the Shepherds made my life really hard.Like – it wasbad."
Araxis was very still next to me, black eyes wide as if he was trying to communicate something.But I couldn't read his mind, and at least I could give the cameras overhead something interesting to broadcast.See how Seraphim felt aboutthat.
"There are these camps down on the colony," I said, mouth suddenly very dry."Kind of like, uh, maybe like detention camps?They're mostly factories.And if you're bad, that's where you go.They say it's for re-education, and maybe that's true.When you weren't doing whatever bullshit chores they gave you, you were listening to scripture.It played over the announcement system almost all of the time, even through most of the night."My stomach was a hard knot, twisting tighter and tighter.I licked my lips, the food in my stomach fighting me – but I'd gone too hungry for too long to lose a battle like that."The point is that they wanted to change me and people like me, because who they think Ishouldbe doesn't match with… how I am."
Bring it home, Sashen, I thought desperately, even though I could almost hear the crackle of the speaker system.Even though I had tofight the urge to blink, because I knew what I'd see when my eyes flashed closed would make it hard to continue.
I cleared my throat, trying to keep myself from gasping for air, as if I'd been running."But – But abaya don'thavedifferent sexes, right?So – how do you understand all of that?Do you have customs around gender?How do you… understand who people are?"
For a long moment, Araxis was quiet.He studied me, andworry twisted even tighter in my gut: had I gotten things wrong?Did he not mean to have this conversation now?Had I said too much?Was it all too fucking much?
Finally, he fluted out a sound, his features pinched with worry."It is distressing to hear that who you are was held in contempt, Sashen, and that Spade has seen it fit to continue such abuse here."I startled at that word –abuse– and Araxis must have seen the shock in my features, because his posture softened, just a little.When he spoke next, his tone had gentled even more."You should be cherished because of who you are; you would be, among my people.It would be different for you."And although I knew we'd planned this, the way he said it – earnest, serious, quiet – made my chest ache all the same.
"How would it be different?"I murmured, lost in his dark eyes and desperate to get evenmorelost, to be taken far away from the memories of Seraphim, to escape the persistent feeling that they were snapping at my heels."Tell me, please."
"Hm, I will – but you must also continue to eat.I have been told that no one ever cooks for you."He smiled at me from behind his lashes, and leaned across the table to add more dumplings to my plate while the space beneath my ribs ached with something real that I didn't quite understand.And then, as planned, he started to quietly explain that, if I were abaya, I would be virra.I asked about what that meant and we spoke as time slid by – easy, familiar, almost intimate.It was another iteration of our conversation on the ship, but this time it was scripted and careful, precisely planned in order to charm our abayan audience and to make it clear why Araxis would feel compelled toget to know me, to offer an alliance.It would explain why he might begin to feel drawn to me.
I sat, murmuring questions and listening while we drank tea and ate slowly, and it was as though I slowly drifted outside of myself.For the first time, I realized that the entirety of this script we had put together, this play we were putting on, was meant to address the fundamental impossibility of us.
Why would Araxis care for me?Why might hefall inlove with me?What might make him pause and take notice?It could only happen because I was virra.
What else did I have to offer except some fleeting brain chemicals and the promise of allure?In this role I was playing for galactic broadcast, I could have been anyone at all.I didn't need to be Sashen.I certainly wasn't Alikander.I may as well have been Be'oi or Caso.Khrelen Tintissi could have played the part just as easily as I did.All that mattered was that I was virra.
And if this was the story we were selling, what truth was there at the heart of it?If Iweren'tvirra, would he have stopped to help me?Would he have let me touch him, would he have held me close, would he have promised to take care of me?And what did it mean to me that the only plausible reason he could care for me was something innate, something I hadn't earned and didn't claim and which had, by rights, marked me as sinner on Seraphim?
What was so vivid and alive in me that everyone around me could see it, and were either repulsed or entranced?What was it that stood at the very core of who I was?And was it anything at all, or just a void into which everyone could project that which they cherished or loathed the most?
Perhaps I was nothing at all, in the end.
Inclusion #38
Message exchange from wristbands belonging to Sashen Solar and Ketaari 78217.09.182, provided by Ketaari 78217.09.182, fee waived
Good news: You've had a request from a media representative for a meeting.
This is good news because?
I have not yet told you the bad news.It would be good because contact with the media generally leads to greater viewership engagement, although your metrics are sufficiently strong without additional coverage.
So the bad news is…
The request comes fromThe Good News, a media organization from Seraphim.Did you wish to accept a meeting?I would approve it.
Fuck no.They'd never publish what I'd want to say anyway.And did you know that good news andGood Newsmean the same thing?Was that a joke?
