Date Point: 15y6m3w1d AV
Folctha, Cimbrean, The Far Reaches
Xiù Chang
For once, Xiù didn’t wake up first.
Usually, she was the first one up. It let her take a shower and sort her hair out, do some yoga and get started on breakfast while Allison and Julian groaned, stretched and complained their way out of bed.
Today, though… well, she was tired. It had been a long and exhausting night, in the best ways. And she had the fortune to just float gently back into consciousness: no full bladder, no disruptive dream. Just muscular warmth and soft breathing next to her, and a strong arm under her head, down her back and resting lightly on her hip.
She smiled and relaxed into him, and fell asleep again.
Ramsey and Tristan woke her up some time later, rattling around downstairs and bickering like brothers. When she raised her head, Julian was still there but Allison wasn’t and that was weird. Usually she was the last of them to rise.
Levering herself up to look at the time, she woke Julian who grumbled a sleepy good morning and pulled her in for a kiss.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“You gonna let me up?” Xiù asked.
“Mmm… Nah.” He pulled her gently up onto his chest and nuzzled the top of her head. “You make a good teddy bear.”
“And you make a good mattress,” Xiù tapped him on the nose. “But it’s getting late.”
“It’s Saturday,” Julian woke up a little more and frowned. “…’Least, I think it’s Saturday.”
“Friday. You’ve got jump lag.”
“…Right.” He grumbled, pulled her into a brief but tender kiss, and flopped over. “I gotta run errands anyway.”
“Your foot?”
“…After I do the other things, yes.”
“Okay.” Xiù sat up and stretched. “…Wonder where Al is.”
“She got up a while back. Think she said something about… research?” Julian frowned, then shrugged, literally rolled out of bed and thumped to the floor where he attended to his morning stretch. Xiù took a moment to admire him, then decided it was time to brush her teeth. After breakfast, actually. She was hungry and they hadn’t really eaten dinner last night, after all. She threw on some pajamas—kept purely because she wasn’t about to wander around the house naked with two young boys at home—and grabbed her hairbrush to do the minimum maintenance on her hair as she headed downstairs.
She found Ramsey and Tristan in the kitchen, squabbling over which cartoon superhero could beat which other cartoon superhero in a fight. Boys.
“Good morning Xiù!”
“Morning!”
“Morning,” she greeted them with a tired smile and went fridge-diving. She found eggs and smoked salmon: perfect. “Where’s Allison?”
Ramsey answered, “She’s out in the yard, just walking around over and over.”
“I think she’s measuring it,” Tristan added helpfully.
“Did she say why?” Xiù asked, digging in a drawer for the ramekins. She was in the mood for poached eggs today.
“Nah.”
Xiù glanced out the window. Sure enough, Allison was patrolling the lawn, aiming her phone at the edges of their property. She looked completely engrossed in her work.
Julian hadn’t bothered to dress beyond throwing on some pajama shorts and his foot. It was a good look for him, frankly; Xiù wasn’t about to complain. He scratched and yawned his way down the stairs like a vaguely grumbly bear, and peered at the kids.
“…‘Sup.”
“You’re home!” Tristan exclaimed. Both the boys were a little in awe of him, but Tristan in particular seemed to be dangerously close to hero-worship.
“I sure am–OOF! Hi!” They’d both charged over and tackled him around the torso. He in turn picked them up and smothered them in a very fatherly type of hug.
That was an even better look on him.
Xiù left him to field the inevitable barrage of questions and slipped outside to get Allison’s attention. It wasn’t difficult: from the looks of things, Allison was almost done with her measurements anyway.
“…Morning.”
“Hey.”
“I guess you were pretty serious about that wall, huh?”
Allison nodded. That had been one of a long line of things they’d discussed last night. A long line, and a lot of second-guessing and hard questions. Their security, their future, their lives… Whether or not to give Folctha a big middle finger and head over to Franklin instead, or even Nouveau Acadia.
They hadn’t settled on anything concrete, and Xiù’s hope was that they’d stay. Sure, the three of them were independently wealthy and could go wherever they pleased if they wanted to… but she wanted to have roots again. She’d really started to think of Folctha as home, she had the Commune in the alien quarter, she knew some of the locals, she had favourite local businesses…
Sure, being attacked on the street had shaken her. But something in her belly said that she would feel like their attackers had beaten them if they up and left.
Allison just shrugged. “It’s something to focus on. Something we can do, y’know?”
“Admit it, you just want an excuse to have Julian doing manual labor.”
Allison laughed. “…Maybe. You making breakfast?”
“Yeah. Also, Julian’s hanging out with the boys and it’s the cutest thing ever. You need to come see it.”
“Oh, that’s dangerous. There might be an ovarysplosion.”
“Yeah, we really need to figure out that whole family thing,” Xiù nodded.
“After we get the place safe,” Allison asserted. “Or… y’know, decide what we’re gonna do.”
“…Come on.”
Back inside, Julian was not only being domestic, he was being downright fatherly and mentoring the boys in how to cook bacon. Which didn’t sound that impressive except that Xiù knew for a fact that neither of them knew how to cook a thing. Both their parents were of the mindset that said a kitchen was for women, and men had no business straying anywhere near one.
And yet, there was Julian, big, bare-chested and more of a man than…God, basically anyone. If he could cook bacon whenever he wanted, why couldn’t they?
“And y’know what fellas? All this bacon fat? Save it! You can do all sorts of things with it. I like to fry eggs but Xiù already poached some…toast! We can make toast! And Hollandaise? Xiù?”
Xiù waved a hand. “Go ahead. Dazzle us.”
“Uh…okay,” he paused, suddenly a bit nervous. “So, if I remember we basically make some mayo except with melted butter instead of oil, and…”
“What if we get it wrong?” Ramsey asked.
“Eh. Who cares? Better than wimping out.”
Allison and Xiù glanced at each other, and by unspoken psychic communion agreed to get out of his way and let him work. They set the table instead.
He managed a pretty decent Hollandaise, though it took some effort on Xiù’s part not to get up and do it the right way. He just used a stick blender and a tall glass, which wasn’t how it was done at all!
It turned out to be a pretty good breakfast, especially considering the bacon was done by a boy who’d never cooked anything before. Xiù handled the dishes while Allison took Tristan and Ramsey to school and herself to work, and then found herself alone again when Julian kissed her on the neck and went to do his promised chores.
She checked the door was locked. And the windows. Happy that the place was secure, she retired to their study, and found the leftovers of Allison’s research still up on the monitor.
She’d been looking at options for beefing up their home security, local building contractors, and also at properties for sale in the other colonies.
…Which actually wasn’t a stupid idea anyway, come to think of it. People were moving to Cimbrean all the time, and a landlord with a few properties in the other colonies might stand to make a comfortable income off the rent. Somebody with enough money could even be a property developer.
She picked up where Allison had left off. After all…
…Why not?
Date Point: 15y6m3w1d AV
Whitecrest Clan Enclave, Wi Kao City, Gao
Brother Thurrsto (“Carebear”) of Clan Whitecrest
“…You’re not serious. You can’t be! I… Champion?”
Being summoned back to Gao was one thing, but this? Thurrsto had never even met half the Fathers in the hall, let alone imagined they’d be present specifically to witness… this.
Just what the hell had happened between Genshi, Regaari and the Great Father? Everyone had known Regaari was a shoo-in for Genshi’s successor but now here they were offering it to…
Well, to him. The ugly misfit.
Genshi’s expression, behind the healing wounds, was earnest. “If you want it. What’s your objection?”
“I… look at me!” Thurrsto indicated himself with a paw, from tail to tip. “ I’m no graceful, suave operator like you or Regaari! I’m just a big ‘ol working class male trapped in a good silver coat!”
“Balls,” Regaari chided him. “Firstly, you’ve got a natural crest that matches Genshi’s, so you’re wrong in the first instance. Secondly, Genshi himself has never been a completely traditional example of a Whitecrest, nor am I these days. Thirdly, you’re a Whitecrest and you earned it, just like Fiin earned being a Stoneback. This isn’t a time to worry about too-pretty faces and breed conformation, Brother, this is a time to worry about who’s right for the job.”
“And you think that’s me.”
“If you stopped fretting and thought about it, you’d agree,” Genshi said. “Go ahead, spell it out. Why would we pick you?”
Okay. Time to think. Time to be calm, rational. Sound the waters, sit between light and dark and sift truth from all the hundreds of little fictions and delusions everybody told themselves every day…
…Fuck.
“Look, I won’t lie. I know I’m competent. I know I’m smart, I know I’m strong like a brownie. I’m a good medic, a passable spymaster, an occasional spy myself…”
“Occasional?” Regaari asked. “You’re still selling yourself short. Remember that smuggling operation in Duen Gin? You infiltrated that workhouse and maintained your cover for nearly two years. Nobody else could have done that but you. The Clanless adopted you as one of their own, and they never figured out who the snitch was. Even to this day, they still argue over it!”
“…And they’re still an operating source network, too,” Father Mizhra supplied. He was one of the Clan’s most important spymasters, particularly when it came to smuggling. His word carried weight.
“…They are, huh?” That was news to Thurrsto. He’d tried to put that particular operation behind him: he’d made friends in that workho use, good friends. Deep cover like that could wrench at a ‘Crest and leave him confused about where his loyalties really lay.
“So tell me. Is there any pressing reason you can think of why you shouldn’t be my successor?” Genshi asked.
Thurrsto had never considered himself as Champion. Growing up in a Clan could be a vicious thing, and if there was anything about it that haunted him, it was that he was different. He knew it right from the outset. He was blamed for every fight that broke out, even if he couldn’t conceivably have started it. He had to work harder to impress everyone at every step of the way. Nothing came easy, especially mating. None of that mattered. He knew, before his First Rite, right in his very soul that he was Whitecrest, and nothing in the world would have stopped him.
…And now, he could be the pinnacle of his Clan. The ember of ambition that had driven him the whole way, sometimes flickering but never failing, roared up into a full-blown inferno.
“…No,” he said. “And there are pressing reasons I can think of why I should.”
Genshi chittered, then sprang back into a fighting stance.
“Then take it.”
There was a fight. A vicious one, which left Genshi even more broken and scarred. It wasn’t quick or easy—the old man was wily, fast and experienced—but in the end, Thurrsto stood astride his mentor and former Champion, unscarred and heaving for breath.
“I claim the Clan.” It was an old formula, but every cub knew the words. “Do any Challenge me?”
None did.
Slowly, Genshi heaved himself to his knees, turned his head and exposed his throat. “I submit.”
“You may keep your life, Father.” Thurrsto stooped and helped Father Genshi stagger to his feet. “Now let’s see to those wounds.”
Genshi chittered, then groaned. He’d had a rough few days.
“Yes, my Champion,” he said.
Date Point: 15y6m3w1d AV
Alien Quarter, Folctha, Cimbrean, The Far Reaches
Nofl
Nofl wasn’t an idiot. He prided himself on it. Which was why, despite living among Humans on what was a de facto Human core world even though Cimbrean was still spoken of as a colony, he took precautions. Humans were deathworlders, and they could be… unstable. A few forcefield emitters hadn’t been expensive, and the ability to put his lab on lockdown when the gangs of armed men started roaming the streets had been invaluable.
Delivering an electric shock through the forcefield to persuade them to find an easier target had been especially satisfying.
The violence had changed things, however. People were more cautious at the moment, they glanced furtively around and conducted their business as though they were rushing to get everything done before the next air raid. It had all robbed him of some of the more enjoyable habits in his daily routine.
No matter! He took the opportunity to follow Bozo around Folctha and see what exactly it was the massive canid did with his days.
As it turned out, the dog’s main activities were lots of sniffing around, urinating on things, and investigating friendly strangers to see if they had any food… but there was a method to it, too. There was much visiting of what might best be termed his “friends.” It seemed ridiculous to say, but Bozo and his pups seemed to understand that something was wrong, and were doing their canine best to help.
It was strange that nobody considered him a threat, despite that he was one of the more dangerous beings roaming the streets. In fact, as Nofl was heading back to his lab, Bozo decided to follow along at a respectful distance, constantly on the prowl and alert for…threats, presumably. Apparently Nofl was in need of protection. He wasn’t about to argue with Bozo.
It was therefore a bit distressing when Bozo suddenly issued one of his skull-rattling barks, then thundered off down the block and around the corner at a frankly alarming speed. When Nofl eventually caught up, he found Julian Esticitty of all people sitting cross-legged on the lab’s front steps, wrestling with a manically excited Bozo and surrounded by a heap of shopping bags. Goodness!
Nofl hadn’t recognised the man on their first meeting, but he could hardly be blamed for that. At that point, Etsicitty hadn’t been remotely as famous as he was now and all Nofl had seen had been a rather shoddy prosthetic foot attached to a man who deserved much better.
Hopefully he’d found an upgrade since then, but he was wearing a pair of boots today and it was impossible to tell.
“…Well! This is an unexpected pleasure!”
“Uh… yeah. I was wondering if we could talk?” Julian scratched at the back of his head.
“I’d love to, dear. We really did get off on the wrong foot last time… as it were, hmm?”
The big man chuckled in a reassuringly soft tone and shook his head. “Gabe was right, you are a scandalous fella, aren’t you?”
“Only when people are scandalized,” Nofl retorted primly, and shut down his lab’s forcefield. “I hope you didn’t get shocked?”
“Unlike some fellas, I can read warning signs. Though if I were you, I’d use the standard human signs too. The little blue Dominion standard icons don’t mean much to the unaware.”
“Well, the signs aren’t there for Humans, darling. The shock won’t really harm you, but it might badly jangle anybody else’s nerves… come in! Come in!”
Julian shrugged, easily gathered all his shopping together, and shouldered himself somewhat sideways through the door.
“So to what do I owe the pleasure? Don’t tell me you finally got bored of that lump of plastic some… hack bolted to your leg?”
“Eh, I replaced that a while ago with something much nicer…here.” He sat down, pulled off his left boot and showed it off.
Nofl inspected it. It was, he had to agree, a considerable improvement. Far from perfect of course, but at least it was marginally capable of keeping up with a Human’s needs, especially a serious physical specimen like Julian.
“I recognize that work. I must ask, how did you get him to calm down, dear?”
“I… asked nicely?”
“…Fascinating.” Nofl whipped a diagnostic wand out of its drawer and ran it over the prosthetic. “Oh…dear me. The composite bones all have fractures, two of the metatarsals are more glue than composite at this point, the synthetic calluses are wearing down, and there’s even some over-stress in the artificial musculature. Julian dear, what have you been doing? Wrestling gorillas?”
“Uh… Stuff. Mostly lifting, and mentoring with the Ten’Gewek.”
“Wrestling gorillas indeed. Oh no, no, no this can’t keep up with you at all. Not unless you want to run it through a complete maintenance cycle every fortnight.”
“Yeah. On that note, I went to the Applied Medtronics office just before I came here. Do you know how much they wanted to charge for repairs!?”
“Your first-born child and a majority share in your business ventures, no doubt. I’d call them cowboys, but I rather fear the hat would suit them… Oh, look at the extensor muscles. They’ve completely lost their elasticity!”
Julian chuckled again. “Scandalous! But you’re trying too hard with the joke, little fella. Lay it on a little thinner next time!”
“See! This is what I want! Why can nobody else play along?”
“I dunno…maybe I’m just used to weird in my life.”
This had proved to be an interesting spice on the daily routine! Nofl finished his interrogation of the foot’s internal structure and straightened up.
“Well. You have two options, but you already rejected one of them. I presume your feelings on having a clone foot regrown and surgically attached are unchanged?”
“Well…I ain’t straight out rejected it, but I’m still…fuck, I’ll admit I’m uncomfortable with it. But I also can’t afford to pay fifty thousand pounds every time something goes wrong.”
“You, my dear old thing, need a foot that can heal itself.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Julian waved a hand. “I get the argument, I believe it, too. It’s just…”
“Then we’ll just have to make you a synthetic foot that can heal. Lucky for you, I’ve been working on exactly that. I will caution you, however, that is considerably more experimental than a properly cloned foot. And the expense argument wouldn’t be much reduced.”
Julian nodded solemnly and stood up again now that Nofl was done with his inspection. “…Yeah. Okay. Here’s my thing.” He started pacing around the room. “I’m…fuck. Okay. I’ve never said this to anyone besides my girlfriends. Are we like, uh, doctor and patient now?”
“My dear old thing, if you request it then I will adhere to medical confidentiality from here on out,” Nofl promised him. “What’s the problem?” he asked, after Julian had nodded.
“I’m, uh…well, I’m not too keen on going under anesthetic. When I was, uh, captured the Corti who took me…”
He trailed off. That was clearly a topic that would be unwise to broach, so instead Nofl attempted to be reassuring instead.
“…Dear me, we wouldn’t have to render you unconscious! No, no, no.” Nofl skipped over to his console and called up the relevant files.
“…Really? But, isn’t this, like, major surgery?”
“A simple stick-and-paste job. Human biology responds amazingly well to nails and glue, never mind the tools at my disposal.”
“But still… kind of a big deal, right?”
“Oh goodness no, far from it: Human orthopaedic surgeons carry out much more invasive procedures all the time under local anesthesia. No, the worst you’d suffer is a temporarily heightened sensitivity to touch and pain. And a month on regenerative medicine to ensure all is well, of course. But that’s very standard at this point. It’s won FDA provisional approval too!”
“Aren’t we under British jurisdiction here? I don’t think the FDA applies.”
“Yes, dear, the Brits approved it ages ago. Winning FDA approval, however, is apparently an exercise in dark political wizardry. My silver banner ‘betters’ love that game so much that I prefer not to spoil their fun by poking my nose in.”
“How kind of you,” Julian deadpanned.
“Especially seeing as I’d probably be much better at it than they are.” Nofl imitated a grin for his patient’s benefit and then called up his notes on the procedure. “There!”
“…Right. So, uh…you promise I’ll be awake? In control?”
“Yes, dear. I will need to paralyze your leg for a few moments at the most critical part, but we can leave the rest free and clear. Really, the most difficult part will be growing the foot in the first place. That will take me an hour or so.”
“…Growing a whole goddamn foot in an hour is the difficult part?”
“Oh my, yes! We need to use the causal accelerator cabinet for that, and iterate a few dozen times at once to ensure all is well. I will give you nothing less than a perfect foot!”
“…The hell do you do with the spares?”
“Incineration of the cell cultures. There shouldn’t be any spare actual feet; there’s no point in growing an entire foot just to throw it away after all!”
Julian’s expression was difficult to read. He continued to pace the room, and for whatever reason this bout of nervous ambulation attracted Bozo’s attention, who planted himself firmly in the middle of the room and wagged his tail reassuringly.
“What…would this cost me?”
“For you? Cost and time. The largest part is the energy bill for the causal accelerator which is… er, prodigious, but the rest of it is vat nutrients and suchlike. All quite inexpensive. I will need a tissue sample, however.”
Julian continued to pace back and forth, clearly conflicted. Nofl wouldn’t pretend to precisely understand the psychology involved—Humans were weird in some important ways—but he also knew better than to interrupt.
“…Okay. Let’s do this before I chicken out.”
Nofl clapped happily and whipped out the disclosure forms. “Excellent! Please give these a quick read…a thumbprint there…yes, yes, standard disclosure…now just a teensy biopsy…”
From there, things progressed efficiently. In just over an hour, the foot was grown and half an hour after that it had been attached, tested, and the nerve block removed. Julian started on his first round of Cruezzir-Derivative to ensure his neural functioning fully adapted to the sudden reappearance of a proper foot and then… took his first step.
The next few minutes were spent much like Gabriel had; the big man bounced and prowled about the lab, his expression a mixture of puzzled and delighted wonder at his newfound wholeness.
“Christ, I hadn’t realized how much my foot was limiting me! This is great, it’s–OW!”
“Careful, dear! Your foot’s nerves will be hypersensitive for at least the next day or two. This is why you must get plenty of activity, and you must take the full course of the medicine! Take full advantage of physiotherapy while you’re on the medicine, too. Your body will have undoubtedly been compensating for the crime that befell your foot.”
Julian nodded and sat down to examine Nofl’s handiwork. There was a very visible discontinuity where his tan just ended, but no visible seam. Nofl double-checked his creation and noted with gratification that the immune response was effectively nil. The only negative effect the patient was suffering was a minor—very minor—dip in blood pressure. Hardly surprising considering Nofl had just attached a whole appendage to his circulatory system.
Julian seemed struck with a thoughtful expression, suddenly. “Why didn’t you match the skin tone?”
Nofl clapped excitedly. He loved an astute patient. “For your benefit, dear! Humans take body sanctity very seriously. You especially! In time, the tan will match with the rest of you, and that will give you time to adjust to the reality of it.”
“…Funny, you’ve got a better bedside manner than a lot of human doctors.”
“Well, if I must be honest it is a learned response, but I thank you for the compliment. Actually,” Nofl realized, “I do think that, in the interests of full disclosure, I should share something with you that I have recently learned.”
“Hmm?”
“I… may have recently come into possession of a full archive of every ‘zoological’ study ever carried out on human abductees, sanctioned or otherwise. Hypothesis, experimental method, outcome… everything.”
One of the most complex emotions to read on a Human had to be trepidation. On Julian, however, it was as easy to read as a Primary Mushroom was to eat. He froze and gave first Nofl then the computer terminal in the corner a deeply wary look.
“…You did, huh? …Just how the hell am I supposed to feel about that?”
“I have been led to believe the correct answer for your kind is something like ‘uneasy.’”
“…Yeah.”
Well, he was hardly a conversationalist. “In any case, I felt you should know the full details of the…I hesitate to call it a ‘program of study’ that led to your capture and exile…anyway.” Nofl picked up a tablet and summoned up the files. “They’re all on this.”
“Well…I hate to ask, but I gotta admit I’m curious. What was the hypothesis of the experiment?”
Nofl couldn’t restrain his delight. “Honey! You’re full of excellent questions! The hypothesis was this: that not even an ideal Human could survive on Nightmare for long, and therefore even your species would one day want our products and services. Or so it is written in the reporting. In any case, that ideal Human ended up being you. Please take no offense, but the idiot should at least be given credit for doing something right in this whole mess. Everything else was…Urgh! The gauche fool wrote the research proposal more like a sales pitch than anything else, dear oh dear…”
Julian allowed a small, satisfied grin to crawl up the side of his mouth. “I take it I disproved his hypothesis, then.”
“Hers, and yes. She never lived to see her humiliation, though.”
“Oh?”
“Improper containment procedures with another ‘sample.’ Bacterial infection. Staphylococcus, oh dear.”
“…Oh, jeez.”
“Indeed.”
“Okay,” Julian shook his head like Humans seemed to do to clear their thoughts, and sent his wild hair flailing atop his skull. Hypnotic to watch, really. “So, why tell me all this? Why now?”
“Trust, dear. It seems my newfound mission is to build trust between our species. That, and…hell!” He flapped his hands in exasperation. “It felt like the right thing to do!”
“Really?”
“I am at the bottom of the societal heap for a reason, darling. I am a steel banner, forbidden to breed. For all my other exceptional qualities, I am far too emotional. Too… imbued with moral agency.”
“Wait. Seriously? Your species breeds against that?”
“Amorality is a powerful force. Do you have any idea what kind of great and awesome things can be done by a population that isn’t burdened with concerns like good and evil?”
Julian looked thoughtful again. “I reckon I do, little fella. Have you studied the Nazis? And the Khmer Rouge? The Great Leap Forward? And…just, all of the things where Stalin was involved?”
“Oh yes. Stalin would have made a very excellent Corti, if not for a… small flaw in his sense of enlightened self-interest. He always held that being feared is better than being loved, without realizing that it’s quite possible to achieve both.”
“See, that’s the thing,” Julian massaged his foot slightly disbelievingly, then stood up to yet again prowl and pace. “I always liked history, yeah? And I used to get into these really stupid arguments with one of my buddies when we were done playing basketball or whatever. He was convinced it was Hitler…and it’s hard to argue that. But for my money, I always thought the most evil man in history was probably Stalin. Not Hitler or the others. Stalin.”
“How do you figure?”
“Hitler was crazy. I don’t know how much it can be said he was fully in control of himself. Stalin, though, that motherfucker knew exactly what he was doing. He was completely, coldly sane. And if I were you, I’d keep that comparison with Stalin to yourself.”
“I’m sure I did mention the flaw that would have made him a terrible Corti instead.”
“People won’t really key in on that, fella. All you gotta do is say ‘Stalin’ and the conversation’s over.’
Nofl sighed. “You’re right of course, darling. I can count on one… hah, one foot, how many people I know who really and truly listen.”
“Right,” Julian sighed. “Well. I’ll…give this a read. And as far as physiotherapy, do you have anyone specific in mind?”
“Warhorse, of course. I assume you two are still friends?”
“…This is going to hurt, isn’t it.”
“Yes. But the rewards should be ample. A full month, Julian! Take advantage!”
“…Right.” Julian had all the stoic resignation of a condemned man. “Anyway. I’ll see him about this, get my errands taken care of and stuff. I better get going.”
“Don’t forget your old foot.”
“…Jeez.” Julian picked it up and considered it. “I was walking around on this two hours ago.”
It wasn’t complete, of course: part of the surgery had been removing the attachment anchored in his tibia, which needed to be properly disposed of as medical waste and the interface cleaned up as best as could be managed. There was actually quite a lot of (admittedly well and judiciously placed) titanium still inside his leg and would be for the rest of his life. Replacing the entire tibia would have been more satisfactory, but somehow Nofl understood Julian would never agree to having his leg flayed open to the calf and reconstructed. Oh well.
“Things have come a long way in the last ten years.”
“Kinda hits you in the head sometimes.” Julian bounced tentatively on his new foot one last time, winced as the hypersensitive nerve endings complained at him, then pulled his boot on and wiggled his foot in it, sighing happily. “…Thank you.”
“It should be perfect. But come back here at the first hint of anything wrong, hmm?” Nofl smiled. “Oh! And you should probably inform your doctor, too. I daresay they’ll be delighted to test the limits of their clinical codes.”
“I’ll do that.”
Nofl watched his handiwork walk out the door with considerable satisfaction, then decided he should probably keep his own record-keeping in order. He was, technically one of Folctha’s medical institutions after all. And he was now curious to see if Human database codes could cover a scenario like this.
As it turned out, they could. It took him a few minutes to find the appropriate entry in the SNOMED library, but when he did it elicted a chuckle.
Feeling thoroughly pleased with himself and with life in general, he carefully made a record in Julian Etsicitty’s notes.
“SCTID 178841003: Complex reconstruction operation on hand and foot”
In other words, a job well done.
Date Point: 15y6m3w1d AV
Folctha, Cimbrean, The Far Reaches
Xiù Chang
The front door beeped, unlocked, closed again, and Julian’s voice floated through from the kitchen, doing his awful best at some Mandarin. “Wo hui lai le!”
Xiù giggled. It made her heart melt that they tried, and that was more than enough to forgive the mangled pronunciation. “Hey!”
There was the sound of a lot of bags being dumped on the breakfast bar, and Julian sauntered through the living room. “How was that?” he asked.
“Terrible,” she grinned over her shoulder at him. “I didn’t know you knew that one!”
“Al and I practice when you’re not around.” He kissed her neck and draped himself heavily over her from behind. “…Properties in Franklin? I thought you didn’t want to leave?”
“Right now, plots and homes over there are really cheap. If we buy them up and develop them then we can charge rent, maybe sell them when they’re worth twice as much…” Xiù explained. “And if you and Al decide that you don’t wanna stay here, well… we’ll have somewhere to live.”
“Makes sense, I guess.” Julian sat down in the reading chair. “I met Nofl. Interestin’ fella.”
“He’s alright, isn’t he?”
“Yeah. Had him take a look at my foot.”
Xiù nodded distractedly. There was a big parcel of land up for sale in the south of Franklin, and she was trying to figure out if buying it up and building houses, or just buying existing properties was the better route. “All better?”
“Best it’s been in years.”
“That’s good…” Xiù agreed vaguely.
She clicked through her work for a few seconds longer and then Julian kicked his legs out and dropped his bare, flesh-and-blood, left foot in her lap. She stared down at it.
“…Wh-? You got it regrown?!” She couldn’t believe it. He’d always been dead-set against having anything other than his prosthetic.
He nodded. “Took an hour, more or less.”’
“Why?!”
“Well…because I love you. I mean, isn’t this what you were hoping for?”
“No, I–! I mean yes, but… I thought you always hated the idea?”
“I mean…I did. Do. But, uh, I trust you. And my friends, and…well, spending all that money every few months woulda been stupid…and I guess I’m pretty rough on myself with work…so I guess-Yah!” Xiù had reached down to touch it and he flinched. “That tickles!”
“Sorry!”
He laughed sheepishly and rubbed it. “It’s a bit sensitive right now. Also, no calluses. So a big part of the next month is gonna be me fixing that. Lots of trail jogging I think. I’m on that magic regenerative medicine too, just to make sure nothing goes wrong. So…I’ll be home on convalescent leave.”
“The whole time? What about Akyawentuo?”
“Shit, I might just need a whole month to figure out how to explain cloning to Vemik anyway. And I can still visit quick. Ooh! Maybe we can start sending letters! I should email the professor and see if his writing is good enough!”
“Wow. Having some company around the house for a change. That sounds… really nice, actually.”
“I’ll be busy, but…yeah.” He gave her a slightly concerned look. “…Are you feeling a bit neglected, baobei?”
Xiù sighed and shrugged. “No, but… Al goes to work, the boys go to school, you go and do cavemonkey stuff or training work with the SOR… I have the Commune and Yulna and everything, but sometimes I miss being cooped up in a tiny box with the two of you every day. I mean, I like that I have more elbow room now, but I got used to you always being in arm’s reach.”
On a whim, she climbed out of the office chair and into his lap, sideways. He pulled her close, they kissed, and she snuggled into his chest.
“See?” she said. “Nice.”
“Heh. Point made.”
“…I kinda like being the homemaker, though. So don’t worry about that.”
He squeezed her. “You sure?”
“Yeah! It’s relaxing.” She glanced down at the bandage on her arm. “…Mostly. What the hell is up with my life? Can’t I go one year without somebody or something trying to abduct me or kill me?”
“Five, in stasis.”
Xiù couldn’t help it. A smile forced its way onto her face. “…Fine. Five in stasis. But apart from that…” She gave him a mock glare.
“We live in interesting times. And I guess we’re interesting people.” Julian shrugged. “You did want to be famous.”
“Hmm. Be careful what you wish for, eh?”
“A little less stabbing and stuff would be nice though, yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Julian took her hand and stroked a finger along her arm, next to the bandage. “…I hate seeing you get hurt.”
“I’ve had worse.”
He squeezed her. “I hate that, too… actually, I have a question.”
“What?”
“Nofl could probably fix your scars.”
Xiù hadn’t thought of that. But he was right. If he could bolt on a functioning foot in an hour, then smoothing out all her scars would have to be pretty trivial. The mangled marks that Hunter had left on her arm, her split eyebrow, the tiny nick on her throat where Zane had pressed a blade to it… She could be rid of it all.
And a few years ago, maybe she’d have jumped at the chance.
“…Yeah, he probably could. But they don’t hurt, and they’re part of me now. I mean, fixing this–” she tickled his foot and he squirmed, “–is one thing. Your foot was slowing you down. But these? I don’t know. Do you think they make me ugly?”
“Baobei, you couldn’t be ugly if you were wearing a muddy potato sack.”
That brought a happy glow to her face and she kissed him again. “Smooth.”
“I have my moments,” he smiled. “And actually, I like your scars. I just thought you don’t.”
“…I’ll keep them,” Xiù decided.
“There’s that confidence I like.” He gave her a kiss, then deepened it. “Mm! Hmm… So we have the house all to ourselves…”
“…Yeah we do.” Xiù turned, sat up in his lap and draped her arms over his shoulders. “Got something in mind?”
His finger trailed up her arm, along her jawbone and then down until it hooked in the neckline of her top. “Oh, I got lotsa things in mind.”
Xiù grinned, kissed his nose, and then reached over to push the door closed, sealing them off in a private, intimate little space.
“Okay then,” she said. “Show me.”
He was entirely happy to oblige.