For nearly half a span, Helix immersed himself in art.
It was pointless and liberating.
In the beginning, he had suspected that Qalu would eventually present her true agenda—or that he would awaken from this dream. Neither had occurred.
Physical necessities grew less outrageous and unpleasant through repetition, and he was beginning to take pleasure in food, just as Qalu had predicted. Everything was strange, but there was great joy in choosing colors, mixing them, making something from nothing, a feat he never could have imagined in his prior existence. He had no knack for poetry, but he loved painting. Crafting objects from another medium, he enjoyed that as well. And he had no aptitude for music. All these things, he’d learned while bearing Qalu company.
And she kept her promises. While they interacted constantly, sharing thoughts and ideas, she never touched without permission. He had explored the grounds a little, usually with Aevi watching from a distance, but mostly their lives had been quiet, no intrusions from her kinfolk or random callers. Qalu seemed to treasure a solitary existence, most unusual for a Tiralan.
There had been no movement in his memory, nor could he connect to the Tiralan network, but he grew used to searching for information manually. And slowly, he began to believe that his new incarnation wasn’t lesser, only different. The pain that had plagued him in the beginning no longer spiked, and he learned that overusing his body could create that feeling as well.
So much to process.
In his first attempts at art, he’d imitated other works, copying stroke for stroke, but Qalu said that wasn’t creation, only production. Now he wandered freely, seeking what she called “inspiration.” Currently, he stood near the crash site, not verifying her tale, but assessing the scraps of charred metal, the burned and dry foliage, and the scar his arrival had left on the landscape. The colors were both bleak and stunning, darkness interspersed with bright yellow vines that crawled across the wreckage, the hillside seeking to heal the damage.
He had been part of this ship, lived in the data clusters, and experienced the physical world only through a mech unit. There had probably been questions, even on Gravas Station. Fueling attendants would’ve wondered who his mech served, and if they scanned to find an “empty” ship, more inquiries would have followed. Is that what happened? Was I running from a threat when I crashed here? But why Tiralan of all places? It wasn’t a popular trade route, and Helix had no explanation for why he would’ve sought shelter here, if he’d felt imperiled.
Helix drew in a breath, sweet with the scent of growing things. He closed his eyes and focused: yellow thornvine, daybell, starwort, and loose pollen from the firevale tree. All plants native to Tiralan, flaunting their stamens in the wind, and the aroma was heady, spicy and green with a hint of loam. At first, he could not name what he was experiencing, but Qalu answered questions with infinite patience, and he now had the capacity to acquire information on his own, though it was slower than before.
There were pleasures in the physical world—to feel the wind on his skin, the warmth of the twin suns, though the days were short during eclipse season. According to the calendar Qalu had shared, the next occlusion would occur soon, and darktide would last twice as long. Perhaps the event would inspire him to create something unique, a quality that so far eluded him.
Opening his eyes, he crouched and touched fragments from the wreckage, silver and black, dusty and bubbled from the heat. Qalu had not exaggerated in calling it a catastrophic detonation. Then he picked up the shard, wanting to keep it for murky reasons, a memento or a souvenir or a relic; such impulses were new to him.
“How is it possible that I don’t understand my own processes?” he muttered.
“Why are you keeping that?” Aevi asked.
He had known the little Pherzul was shadowing him when he left the habitat, but since she seemed disinclined to interact, he ignored her presence. But now she was suddenly here, skittering around his lower limbs, rear extensor whipping with curiosity. She reared up on her hind limbs and before he could stop her, she scaled him, bouncing off various parts until she came to rest on his shoulder. Her feathery extensor twined around him, and she let out a soft sound, similar to a Barathi churr.
The vocalization comforted him and made him feel lonely at the same time. Now, at least, he had a term for the feeling, a hollow ache that made him want to see Zylar and tell him what was happening, to apologize to Beryl once more, because now that he was stuck in a strange place with little control over what befell him, he understood what he’d done to her. The fact that it ended well didn’t absolve him of responsibility.
“I am unsure.”
“I see. I see. Sometimes I do that too. Qalu scolds because I steal shiny things and sometimes she needs them, and I don’t know why I do. But I have to hide the shiny things; they’re mine! They should all be mine.”
This was the first moment with Aevi that could be considered amicable, as she hissed and avoided him or stalked him from the shadows, leaping out in hope of startling him. So his response mattered or this rare accord would be broken. “Then you understand my uncertainty,” he said finally, unable to determine a better rejoinder.
“I do! If I support your need to collect dirty things, will you tell Qalu not to fuss over my shinies?”
“Perhaps Qalu could acquire two shiny things, one for you to keep and the other for her to use?” he suggested.
Truly, he had no notion whether that idea was viable. Some objects doubtless required more resources to obtain. And Qalu had not given him access to her financial records, leaving him unable to determine what was a reasonable request.
“Yes! Let’s ask her. We can go right now. Please, can we?” The rear extensor tickled as it whipped around, and for some reason, Aevi’s proximity didn’t set off the usual recoil.
Somehow, they had become temporary allies. “I am ready to return.”
Helix expected she would leap off his shoulder, but instead, she settled in, as if she meant to ride him back to the habitat. He could think of no courteous way to demand that Aevi dismount, and furthermore, in all probability, such a request would also mar their tenuous rapport. Therefore, he resigned himself to being a Pherzul conveyance. As they proceeded, however, he didn’t mind her weight and the churrs she made reminded him of home, of the Barathi, and more familiar times, even if he hadn’t been part of that world physically, as he was here on Tiralan.
Her claws gripped his swator, offering hints of sharpness, but she was careful not to hurt him, a technique doubtless perfected through contact with Qalu. It was easy and surprisingly pleasant to imagine them roving together like this, and he experienced a pang of…something. Not an emotion he had felt before, as he was still learning, and there were so many, some of which appeared to be tied to his physical host.
Aevi chattered the entire way back, bits of nothing about what she saw or smelled, and he found it…comforting. He didn’t need to respond; she didn’t seem to expect it, and by the time they entered the residence together, she was nuzzling against the side of his face and acting with what he thought be called…fondness. What Qalu had requested he demonstrate in front of her mothers.
Did that mean he was supposed to perch on top of her? No, she’d said that she wouldn’t require physical contact as part of their arrangement. As he puzzled over this requirement, Aevi called, “Qalu! We need to speak to you!”
Soon, she emerged from the lab, her eyes bright with…curiosity? He had begun to enjoy trying to identify her responses, based on visual cues and the nuance of her gestures. Such assessment demanded complete attention; that was why he always watched her the moment she entered his space. Today, she also smelled different, not the usual mix of chemicals and metallics. The scent was sweet, like cut fruit and fallen petals. Helix took a step closer to breathe in more of that scent.
His pulse trembled, soft and unsteady. Somehow, her appearance struck him as altered, though she wore the same swator. But had she always…. glowed like this, bright and bronze, like some treasure that ought to be painted? Bemused, he glanced away.
“What’s happened?” Qalu was asking. “Are you all right?”
Definitely not, Helix thought.
Aevi launched into a rapid explanation, expressing support for the piece of wreckage that Helix still clutched while also requesting that all shiny objects be received in double quantities henceforth. At the end of the Pherzul’s monologue, Qalu made a quiet sound, head tendrils quivering. Amusement, and oh, it was lovely. She shone with that emotion, and he stared at her, transfixed.
“Perhaps,” said Qalu, but she didn’t get to finish her sentence.
“Hello, my precious daughter,” an all-too familiar voice called.
Qalu froze. Foremother.
“Inatol is here. We’ll talk more later!” Aevi hissed and dashed off to hide.
Then it got worse, as three more charming, musical voices added their greetings. Normally, her mothers notified her before visiting her domicile, but evidently, Foremother had convinced the rest that some oversight was required. I hoped to have more time. But there would be no putting them off, not when she’d already demurred once. Now, they would interrogate Helix about his antecedents and his worthy qualities, and she had no notion if he was ready for this first hurdle.
I didn’t teach him about proper etiquette. I didn’t cover any of the pertinent—
To her surprise, Helix assumed the proper posture on his own and executed a credible respect obeisance on his own with limbs tucked and head tendrils moving the appropriate degree. When he straightened, he said, “Please accept my apologies for not offering my greetings earlier. I forgot myself in Qalu’s company.”
Though he couldn’t mean it, that was such a good impression of the fondness she’d requested that she fluttered a bit. All over. And Foremother caught the response, of course she did, and that resulted in a slight softening of expression. No progenitor could remain stern when someone professed partiality for their child.
“We quite understand,” she said briskly. “Qalu, will you perform the introductions or must I?”
Assuredly not.
As the host for this impromptu gathering, the onus for such tasks fell to Qalu. “Mothers, this is Helix…” Here, she paused, wondering what to say precisely. “My companion. Helix, I present Inatol, Solsan, Khrelasa, and Beh-latan, my maternal units.”
She wondered what he made of their family. Her mothers varied a fair amount in size and appearance. Inatol was the largest with stature to match her imposing personality, along with russet skin and shining copper scales. Beh-latan was the smallest, slight and delicate, glowing pink with scales in a deeper coral hue, imbued with a temperament attuned to peacemaking. Both Solsan and Khrelasa shared their build size with Qalu, closer to average, and they all ranged in earth tones, outward to bronze and gold. Though all four had contributed genetic material for Qalu’s birth, she resembled Solsan the most, down to her alt-mother’s reserved manner.
They all greeted Helix in turn, offered reciprocal respect and then settled in the common space, as if prepared for a long visit. Qalu swore silently. She couldn’t prevail on her alt-mothers to cut this encounter short, it seemed.
“Inatol has said that you’re an off-worlder,” said Khrelasa. “It’s fascinating; we’ve never met anyone from the outpost. Do tell us about Titan V.”
Helix shot her a questioning look, as if asking what he ought to say. Neither of them had any clue what life on Titan V was like and lies could be uncovered readily.
Then the answer occurred to her and it would save them both. “No, I told her not to forget that was a possibility. I never said that was where Helix is from. His family left with a yen to explore when he was small, and they’ve lived in many interesting locales.”
“Ah!” Surprisingly, that story seemed to spark Solsan’s imagination. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to travel. You must have tremendous stories.”
Though it was rare for family groups to leave Tiralan, it did happen; they usually returned when it was time for the next generation to be born. Perhaps her mothers would accept that was why Helix had “returned,” after meeting Qalu on the matching service. This fiction was certainly more manageable than inventing a life for him on Titan V, and oh, what if her mothers had wanted to visit? She shuddered, imagining the magnitude of that potential calamity. Relaxing a little, Qalu sat quiet while Helix spoke about Barath with the authority of personal experience.
“How incredible,” Beh-latan said. “Do they truly compete for the privilege of forming family units, for procreative rights?”
“Barbaric,” Inatol snapped.
“Is that not the—”
Qalu spoke over the top of the question, as Helix should know that there was no Choosing on Tiralan, if he had been reared by a proper family. “I’ve read a little about the practice, and it seems that it began when the world was desperately overpopulated and short of resources. There came a very bleak time on Barath, near cataclysm, when they nearly died out, so now they need to repopulate, but they want the best candidates to do so.” Or at least, that was what she had gleaned from the ’net. Curiosity had prompted her to research the planet where Helix lived before, but it seemed to be a fortuitous happenstance, as her mothers were diverted from interrogating Helix to arguing about Barath.
“Dreadful.” Solsan radiated deep disapproval, and Khrelasa seemed to agree, judging by her posture.
“That’s eugenics,” Inatol declared in a furious tone. “The idea of ‘best’ is so subjective, and it casts doubt on the rights of—”
“We didn’t come to quarrel,” Beh-latan said softly, resting a tender hand on Inatol’s forelimb. “And Qalu is certainly not defending this Choosing.”
Bel’s Burning Sack. For once, she wished her gentle alt-mother didn’t always want to keep the peace. Because now Inatol remembered that she was off topic, focusing on Helix with renewed intensity. “True. And since this one is still searching for a partner, we can assume Helix has not participated in such a competition.”
“When I was on Barath,” Helix said slowly, “it never occurred to me to ask these questions, but I believe you are correct. There should be an alternate means of obtaining such privileges.”
You dear genius. Qalu wished she could touch him to convey her appreciation for such a brilliant gambit. He directed the conversation with such finesse that Inatol didn’t seem to realize she had been deflected, or that they were once again discussing Barath customs instead of Helix’s personal situation.
“Education,” Khrelasa suggested. “Here on Tiralan, we’re required to take several courses to ensure we’re ready to take responsibility for another life.”
Beh-latan nodded. “Nurturing, psychology, emotional support, conflict mediation, appropriate discipline, and more. There’s also a unit for forming healthy love groups and division of domestic labor.”
“You hated that class,” Solsan said, gently teasing Inatol.
This…is going well. Better than Qalu had dared hope.
“We’re not here to talk about me,” Inatol said.
Oh no. I celebrated too soon.
Khrelasa took the cue effortlessly. “Yes, we’d love to get to know you better, Helix. First, what pronouns do you use?”
“He, for now. In regard to gender, I remain undecided.”
The four femmes exchanged a look and Qalu braced. Helix was long past the age of maturity when one normally resolved such matters. But Beh-latan only said, “Then you’re currently neutral with masculine inclination?”
Solsan added, “I support your desire to take the time to know yourself fully. It’s an important decision, and it’s also valid not to choose. For some, both feel right, or neither. We respect your care in this regard.”
It was such a kind answer, and all her mothers wriggled their head tendrils, showing agreement with the sentiment. She had never loved them more.
“We only ask that you respect our Qalu and treat her well. Can you do that?” Beh-latan asked, somehow tender and steely at the same time.
“At this time, Qalu is the most important person in my world,” Helix said with remarkable sincerity. “I will never deceive her, never harm her voluntarily. And I will strive to increase her happiness in any manner available to me.”
She quivered and tried not to wish he meant it, that this wasn’t the facsimile of fondness she had solicited. He shouldn’t be so good at it, not proficient enough to make her believe their convenient fiction.
Khrelasa let out a happy breath. “That’s the right answer. We won’t ask for promises at this stage, better to take it slowly than suffer for it later. Would you be open to adding others to your love group? It’s much healthier, less stressful, more social value, and—”
“Alt-mother!” Briefly, she contemplated imitating Aevi and vanishing beneath some of the furniture.
“I have no objections,” Helix said.
“Excellent. Though I was skeptical at first, especially after the way you rushed me out last time, I may have been hasty in that judgment,” Inatol said.
“What is your chosen path?” Khrelasa asked.
Since Helix would have no idea that she was inquiring what he did for a living, Qalu answered quickly, “He’s an artist. Not well known yet, but he’s quite talented.”
Solsan stifled an amused noise. “You’re speaking from bias, my dear daughter, but I’m so pleased to see it. We had feared…” Her alt-mother stopped there, before the hurtful words emerged.
She’d heard them from her foremother often enough. That I wouldn’t find anyone, ever. That I’m born to live and die alone.
They would be so disappointed when she unveiled Helix as her greatest achievement in bio-synthetic life, not someone who loved her.