Neodymium Betrayal, page 28
“Cool science lesson, Jei, but I think you’re avoiding my question.” Mera stood up and stepped close to me again. “Why don’t you just say you don’t like me?”
“Well, let me finish my science lesson,” I said, trying to joke. Thank goodness she laughed. “There’s a lot to explain, and I really want to do it right, because …” I sighed. Honesty sucked. “Because I do like you—bloodseas, I like you a lot, and I want to make sure you’re okay with the weirder parts of what I think.”
“Aw, that’s sweet,” she said. “Go on.”
“Oof, sweet isn’t a great word.”
“It’s better than the alternative I’m thinking right now.” She crossed her arms as her slender eyebrows twisted in the starlight.
I sighed as she started walking again; my fingers absently unclipped my staff from my belt, and began whacking the tops of the grass with it as we passed. “Alright. So when we use our powers, we essentially hijack the pathways of these neuro-systems for other purposes. Some of us—like Lem, I think—have additional systems that end in different kinds of nerves. I think that’s the reason she can throw sparks. Or like you, with your specialized inner ear. But anyway, the way we use our powers is tied to the way our neurons connect, and when I supercharge four systems at once, when I—when I sync my neurological system up with someone else—I want to make sure that intense link doesn’t damage my powers.”
She tilted her head back to sigh at the stars. “So what if you weren’t electromagnetic?” she asked.
“I—don’t think I’d change my mind, honestly,” I winced. “Everyone still has the same basic neurobiological system—sex is sex. A stable, long-term physical link frees you from distractions, heals the mind, pushes you to achieve, and—clears out unwanted tension.” Like the tension I was feeling right now. “At best, a bunch of unstable, half-formed links decreases my ability to use that link reliably. At worst, the distraction and—drama—of multiple goodbyes would make the link weaker.”
“You’re basically saying having more partners makes you worse at sex,” she said flatly.
“I don’t think that’s unrealistic,” I said. “There’s a hormone called oxytocin, the bonding hormone, which ties mother to child, and lovers together. It affects the way your muscles move and the way you think, and ties you closer to those you love. It’s part of why sex is so healthy. And it’s higher in people who are monogamous, and lower in those who aren’t.”
“Okay, okay, pause here.” Mera stepped close to me again and held up both her palms. “I get what you’re saying. And you know what, I’ll give you this: even forgetting oxytocin, if you only have one lover in your life, that person will always be the best you’ve ever had. You don’t have anything to compare it to. Pleasure’s all in the brain, so doing it your way your psychological expectations set you up for a better experience. And of course as you get to know one person’s body and preferences over time, you establish a stronger foundation for creative experimentation—lots of benefits to your way, not to mention the decreased disease transmission.” She smirked and gave the elbow of my tunic another gentle tug with her fist. “But forget about sex, Mr. Horny Science Lecture. Let’s talk about kissing.”
“Cultural greeting kissing, or romantic human kissing? I have culturally greeted a lot of Insectoids on the mouth in my day,” I laughed.
“Romantic human kissing, you butt,” she said.
“Well, biologically, isn’t kissing a signal to your autonomic and hormonal systems to get ready for something else?” I asked. “It’s still part of my promise, for me.”
Mera kicked more grass with a little skip, twirling her fingers against each other behind her back. “The distinction seems arbitrary.”
“Arbitrary is what you make it. Why does a handshake seal a deal? It’s the meaning behind it that matters.”
She peered up at me sideways through her bangs. “It seems so strange to me that you’d suddenly limit your expression of love for others because you got to thinking too much.”
“Love, and what I’m talking about, aren’t the same thing. Like you said before, there’s more to love than physical intimacy. I can love as many people as I want.” I whacked another tall clump of grass with my staff. This needed to be over. We needed to hunt. “Anyway, in the nonsapient world, species that are naturally abstinent and monogamous—like otters and eagles—don’t seem to be restricted and repressed. They seem happy. They seem less frenzied and stressed out than the snakes or the salmon that spend all their energy mating and fighting as much as possible and then die flooded in cortisol.”
“Cortisol being the stress hormone,” she said.
“Right.”
Mera stopped in front of me with her arms crossed over her chest and took a deep breath.
“Well, I’ll be frank with you, Jei, I take a more balanced approach than either the salmon or the otters. I don’t spend all my energy on boys, but I do like a little fun, a little risk. I haven’t stopped myself from doing what I wanted, when I wanted.”
She looked at me, as if challenging me to judge her. I looked right back and didn’t. I stepped closer to her, and lowered my voice. “Is that who you are, who you’ve been, or who you think people want you to be?”
“I am the same person I’ve always been.” She doubled down.
“I like that person. I don’t define her based on an arbitrary number of past hook-ups. I define her by her passion, her skill, that pool of secrets behind her eyes.” I clenched my fist tighter on my staff to keep my fingers from running along the curve of her chin in this shimmering moonlight. “And if that person chose to like me back, I wouldn’t try to control her. But I wouldn’t lie about who I am or what I need, either.” I finished with a harsh whisper, “And I wouldn’t love her and leave her.”
With that, finally, she dropped the armor. She actually looked baffled; for a while, neither of us spoke. Her fingers danced near mine; I allowed it, and our fingers intertwined. She was different, this time—no pins and needles, no transmitted thoughts … just her hand in mine.
And in this way, we continued our walk through the starlight, until she found our target.
Chapter Forty
Reise
The dragon-riders did, in fact, have metaphorical butter.
Like most sapients from Alpino’s more rural people groups, Sensi, the painted human, and Wiz, the winged Draconian, were both Frelsi sympathizers. In fact, when Reise interrupted their midnight smungworm roast, they were engaged in heated discussion about how the changes on Burbura could alter their nomadic freedoms here on Alpino. They were glad to give the lost teens a ride on their enormous lizard to the nearest Frelsi patrol.
Reise had never ridden a dragon before, and it wasn’t at all what he expected.
“There’re a couple o’ soldiers who have their route just along the boundary lands this time o’ night,” Sensi shouted over the wind rushing in their faces. Reise, directly behind her, was fully engaged in not making a face as the woman’s strong musk blew directly up his nostrils and her hair, tangled with tiny reptile bones, smacked his cheeks.
“What’s the boundary lands?” Jake asked from behind Reise. This, too, was uncomfortable: even with the Draconian flying overhead instead of riding, the long dragon mount barely had room for all the riders on its scaly back, and as it side-wound through the prairie at break-neck speed, its muscles rippled under everyone in a way that jolted them together and apart again over and over, making Reise feel like he was inside a rock accordion.
“That’s where the prairie becomes volcanoes n’ such,” Sensi said. “You are’n from here, eh? Draconians usually live near the volcanoes in the winter on account o’ their cold sensitivities, while we Blues usually live there in the summer for the good huntin’. Every year there’s a whole to-do when we cross the boundary lands.”
Reise finally gave in to his nose and turned his head, tucking it into his shoulder to look behind him instead of trying to brave the hair of death. By starlight, he could see Nathan, in the back on the base of the tail, gazing up at the Draconian and then down at the dragon with a pleasant smile on his face, taking it all in. Gideon, behind Jake, made eye contact with Reise, almost laughing out loud at Reise’s sputtering unhappiness.
“I thought dragons could fly,” Jake called to Sensi.
“Common mis-con-ception, from off-worlders,” Sensi answered. To the flier, above: “You all good up there, Wiz?”
“I couldn’t be better, my friend,” Wiz called back, every syllable clean, crisp, and accented with a grandeur Reise thought belonged in a palace or a temple. “It is a lovely night for a flight.” The Draconian’s bat-like wings were enormous unfurled—about twice the man’s height in wingspan. Reise wouldn’t have believed they could pack closed so tightly if he hadn’t seen the leathery rolls on Wiz’s back when he first approached the pair.
When the group reached Sensi’s Frelsi patrol friends, Reise soon realized he would’ve gladly taken any amount of time behind the stink-hair over the stern debriefs. The boys got the first earful from the patrol members, who had been informed of the AWOL teens the day before, and had no problem dishing out advice to unruly troublemakers from the back of their air-riders. Then, back at the Firebase, the guys got it again from the interrogator who took their statements about the possible location of the force that destroyed Fort Jehu.
And, finally, the Hiding Place guide who arranged their transfer got to give them a piece of her mind, too. She walked into the colorful cushioned interrogation room with her antennae almost twirling with rage.
“Oh, hi again!” Jake waved to her as she came in. “Reise, it’s the same guide who was in charge of our convoy before.”
Reise tried to pretend he himself did not exist; he almost hid his face under the largest throw pillow on the plush seat beside him.
“Hi nothing,” the guide chittered, her mandibles clicking together well in advance of the words from the translating voice box that hung around her thin throat. “Hi nothing you’ve caused so much trouble for me but I guess thank Njande it’s for the best!” She threw four of her legs into the air; Nathan tried to make pointed eye contact with Reise, which he ignored. “You gave some intel that might save some lives let’s see.” She motioned with her antennae toward the door. “Come on Hiding Place transport this way.”
Jake and Gideon stood right away, eager to finally end the late night, in trouble or not. Reise found himself hanging back, looking around at the patterned rugs and tasseled bolsters that made this room look, in his mind, more like a rich person’s romp room than an artificial cave for extracting secrets. Even the interrogator, a plain, mousy man, had simply scribbled their intel onto his compupad and then left the room: no frantic reports, no war-room head-slamming, no good cops and bad cops and glasses of water on plastic tables near two-way mirrors—well, that wall actually probably was a two-way mirror, but still.
“That’s it?” Reise said.
“I know,” Nathan said, coming up beside him. “It’s all really anti-climactic.”
“I feel like I need to leave and try again,” Reise said. “Like I was playing a vid-story game and accidentally chose the wrong ending.”
He pushed through the polymerwall out into the hallway after the others, trotting up to the Hiding Place guide. “Ma’am,” he began—
“I don’t want to hear it you were lucky that things turned out okay,” she said.
“With all due respect ma’am, we weren’t lucky,” he said. “We all escaped alive from the burning transport because we were loyal and smart and thought on our feet and remembered our training. We got the information we did because we were suspicious and cautious and stayed hidden because we didn’t trust our superior’s new friend. And we got back here as quick as we did because we took the right risks and leveraged our allies. Maybe we’re not the heroes, but you need people like us to save the heroes’ butts sometimes.”
“Are you saying you’re planning on running away again,” she groaned.
“I’m sure as hell saying I don’t wanna just cower in the Hiding Place, ma’am,” Reise said, lengthening his stride to keep up as she skittered through the hall.
Gideon joined them. “You know, Reise has a point. Command is always saying we’re short on combatants—there’s no point in sending fighting age scouts to go hide.”
“That was your original destination.”
“That’s a clerical matter, though,” Nathan interjected, scuttling up on his tiny feet. “They were evacuating everyone they could. The more transports that go there, the more risk of exposure, so why send an extra one for buttheads who couldn’t even stay on the first one?”
“We’ll all be going to the Hiding Place soon anyway, if the Firebase gets hit next,” Reise said—surprised that Nathan had his back but not inspecting a gift lechichi’s pores. “I’d like to respectfully request to remain and assist with evacuation.”
“Hey, we could be one of the supply squads,” Gideon said, pointing to his companions and holding up three fingers to emphasize that they had the right number of people.
The Hiding Place guide threw four limbs in the air again and stopped walking. “I’m like a queen up here with you larvae crowding all around me.”
The boys looked at each other, not quite understanding; Nathan took a step back, away from her, so Reise and Gideon did the same.
“I feel like you’re supposed to learn some kind of lesson and you haven’t,” she said. “But maybe lessons aren’t practical you’re certainly a good team or at least some kind of team let me talk to command and see about getting you on evac.” She looked over at Jake. “You’re the one who’s underage right?”
He nodded, flinching. Reise steeled himself for a dramatic show …
“I’m going to be transporting a group of underages as soon as the order goes through you will be on board and not hiding anywhere I don’t care if you miss your brother or if you are hungry or sleepy or whatever excuse is that understood?”
Jake looked at Reise. Come on, don’t do the separation anxiety thing. Please don’t …
“Next year, buddy,” Reise said.
Jake sighed. “Yes ma’am.”
The relief was so palpable Reise could almost feel the air currents in the room change as Nathan and Gideon let out their breath. Reise patted his little brother on the back as the group followed the guide down a side hallway. Jake was growing! Good for him.
But Reise still intended to find a way to locate his sister.
Chapter Forty-One
Cinta
Cinta could not imagine anything less similar to the Luna-Guetala forests than the Frelsi Hiding Place.
It was not as if at home, under the thick canopies, and tightly-woven tree houses, Cinta saw sky all the time, or even every day, but something about seeing stone overhead every time he looked up now had already begun to drive sharp teeth into his brain. Even if he stood in the center of this vast cavern, right under the volcano’s opening, he would only see the enormous vat of molten material that hung just inside the entrance to hide inhabitants from anyone flying above. In the belly of this hollow mountain, no one’s eyes tasted sky.
The space-lemur felt he would never get used to living underground. The bubbling sound of geothermal vents and water pipes had become pleasant, and even comforting overnight; less so the occasional rumble to frighten away civilians with fake seismic activity. And despite the grow-lights scattered through the cavern and tunnels for psychological and physical homeostasis, Cinta’s body already did not feel morning or night.
It was night, now. Cinta panted, envying humans their overactive sweat glands as he laid down his hoe. The smothering heat of the jungle did not compare to the breezeless inferno here, closer to the top of the volcano. Rich black dirt squeezed between the toes of his paws as he scampered to the edge of the garden shelf carved into the inside of the mountain. He adjusted the grow-lamp fixed into the rock above him, and sighed, gazing out into the chasm below and above him. Food-producing shelves dotted the volcano’s inside walls like honeycomb; deep below him, repair vehicles milled around the parked transports on the cavern floor, and soldiers ducked in and out of view, disappearing into the tunnels that fingered off into the earth, away from the mountain, under the plains. Every voice, hammer blow, and footstep echoed in odd, muffled patterns as sound waves spiraled up the conical subterrene toward the hidden sky.
This was the Frelsi Hiding Place. This was where the bulk of all Frelsi finances disappeared; why they could not always afford new ships, why half the buildings on Luna-Guetala had doors instead of polymerwalls, and why Cinta now understood what Jaika meant when she talked about eating orange slop.
He missed her.
Commotion below? Cinta’s ears perked: soldiers swarmed a small tunnel-car that emerged from under the earth by the passageways to the command center. Something important happening …
Cinta scampered onto the ladder, unclipped his vest from the hook on the grow-shelf to the hook on the ladder, and rappelled down using the left side of the ladder a bit like a balance pole for his back paws. He’d watched other Biouk space-lemurs literally just climb down the moss on the rock mountain walls, but since his … injury … well, without his front claws he could not grip.
At least dangling and falling by rope like this threw a warm breeze into his muzzle fur.
