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Cellulose & Steel	By : Not-Taylor Category: Misc Books > FemmeSlash Views: 1028 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own HDG or its characters and I don't make money from this work.

Chapter List
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The sky today is extremely cloudy, leaving it a dull grey and dimming the entire deck. Even though Ember knows it’s artificial, she can’t entirely quench the impulse to find the defective circuitry and restore full illumination. That’s a normal reaction to low light levels, isn’t it?
Being on a leash isn’t that bad this time. Verda dropped it on the way into the first tram on their journey, one the same green as an Affini, and hasn’t picked it up since. It’s extremely suspicious and Ember wonders why she’s pretending not to have noticed. Is this a trick? Not that the prisoner could escape here, with a dozen weeds around her, most occasionally glancing over with looks of routine adoration. Stars, being a “pet” is weird.
Taking in her surroundings, Ember can confirm that Verda really is an unusual color. Her bluish tint isn’t hard to miss, though without points of comparison she just looks green. Some patches are properly blue, if anything about a weed can be called proper. She hopes Verda won’t notice she’s being looked at. Who is Ember trying to kid, of course she’s noticed. The Free Terran is well aware that affini can see without looking in a particular direction. She’s done it too. The memory brings a shudder of dread. It’s wrong.
The second leg of the journey actually takes them on another tram that stops at the station they get off at. It’s very convenient. Since they have a few minutes to wait for the new one to arrive, Ember is able to take in the scenery. They’re near a small park, maybe a quarter of the size of the one by Verda’s house if she had to guess. This one’s plants are more exotic, though several remind her of nature documentaries from a long time ago. The station itself isn’t very big. There are several affini sized seats and benches, a water fountain (actually, there are two pairs of one at affini height and one at Terran height), and a timetable in Affini and a few other languages, along with a clock in Affini and Terran time.
This doesn’t seem to be a busy part of the day as almost all of the seats are empty. A pair of florets are cooing against a rather small affini, who’s petting them at the same time. She’s scratching one behind the ears. The three of them only take up one seat since they’re so tightly woven together. It’s vile. They should be ashamed.
The next tram arrives, dispensing a bunch of passengers and taking the waiting trio on board. Good riddance, Ember thinks. A subtle touch to its leash indicates that this isn’t their tram without Verda saying anything. The Terran isn’t sure how to feel about how comfortable Verda is with this form of communication.
One of the passengers looks kind of familiar, as she and her handler sit somewhere less out of the way than where Verda and Ember are. That gives Ember enough of a chance to see who it is more clearly. The hair is different, much curlier, but the face is unmistakable. That’s Alice Simpson, the communications officer. She stopped doing much after Ember had realized she could do Alice’s job for her with next to no mental effort. She got over it.
Looking at Verda, she doesn’t seem to be paying much attention. That’s probably not true, but Ember decides to stand up anyway. Verda looks surprised but doesn’t resist. She extends the vine holding to leash, giving her prisoner at least five more meters of freedom. It would’ve been nice if she’d done that before, Ember thinks. Still, her accommodating mood is a good chance to see how Alice is doing. Maybe she can be talked into rejoining the Resistance.
“Alice.”
“Who? Olivia, is that you?”
“It is-”
“You look amazing! I’m so happy you’ve been taken good care of. It hasn’t even been a month, has it? But it feels like forever.”
Stars strike the weeds down, Alice has been destroyed by xenodrugs. She isn’t too different from normal, but that isn’t much of a compliment to the Affini. She was always a bit… floretlike, Ember could say. This is worse. Even if Ember would’ve been happy under normal circumstances that her fellow officer hadn’t held a grudge, this is different. She didn’t choose to forgive. She was forced to. That makes everything in the past between them immutable, especially when there’s no way for Ember to show remorse (not that she feels any, but she could if she did).
“It does feel like forever. I’m staying strong and I’m better than ever.” That might be an exaggeration. “The weed who took me in has been trying to break my will but I won’t let her win.”
The affini behind Alice shifts uncomfortably. She’s a little harder to read than Verda is, but clearly doesn’t see that as a positive indication. Maybe Ember shouldn’t have used the word weed.
“No… Olivia, you can stop fighting now. We lost.” The floret looks at her mournfully.
“I see your point.” Alice’s affini seems to calm down. Did that actually work? Stars, these weeds are dumb. She pulls her former crewmember away in order to speak more privately.
“Alice, they’re trying to corrupt you. They’re going to put their tendrils into your mind. They haven’t put a chip in your brain yet, have they?”
“What? No, my mistress hasn’t given me an implant yet, but that’s because she doesn’t think I need one yet.”
“Why not? I thought they did it as soon as possible.”
“I don’t know. I’m sure she has a good reason.”
“Listen to yourself, Alice! You’re the one who said that death was better than surrender.”
“And I was wrong. I admit that. I was just going along with what everyone around me was saying. My mistress is so much stronger and smarter than I am, how could I hope to win?”
“The same way we always have won, through teamwork. Terrans are strong because we have one another.”
The pet starts giggling. “We don’t have to be strong any more, you know. I bet your mistress can help you calm down too.”
“But…”
“It’s all right, Olivia, you’re safe now.” Ember recoils as she tries to place a hand on her arm. “And besides, if they were going to hurt us, wouldn’t they already have?”
“They did. They’ve hurt me a lot, doing things that would make you squirm to hear and make me ill to retell. Convers- They broke Ginger.”
“No way,” Alice says with sarcastic astonishment. “You know she was trying to get me to give in from the start, don’t you?”
“What…”
“She spent a while trying to show me how the affini were on our side, right after we left spacedock. I resisted. But she was right, you know. Just because it took the rest of us a few years doesn’t make her wrong.”
“Ginger was really…”
“She was. I wish I’d listened more. Maybe we could’ve helped you understand if we both came to you. Maybe I could’ve snuck out a transmission…”
“You should know better. Do you not remember all of those days after they took her away from me?”
“I remember. You really stepped up. Or floated up?” She laughs, as though this conversation isn’t extremely serious. “Why are you so obsessed with the past? Let it go, Olivia.”
“Probably the same reason you find it so easy to submit to a foreign power you know nothing about, chka.” There’s really nothing to call this pathetic excuse for a human. Ember shakes her head. The affini’s attention is piqued.
“You do know that word isn’t a slur, blossom?”
“I know. Was I using it incorrectly?”
“No, I suppose not… Though I’ve never heard a floret include it as part of regular speech.”
“Mistress, what did she say?”
“Your friend said that there’s no room for doubt that you’re my floret,” the affini replies, running a vine along Alice’s face to a contented sigh. “However… Olivia?” The weed frowns. “That doesn’t sound quite right. Ought I to tell your owner that you’re propagating feralism in public? You’ve clearly already begun your domestication, so I’m unsure what that would achieve. Perhaps some xenodrugs to clear your mind? My delightful first floret will not fall to your radical teachings.”
The Free Terran tries to ignore the xeno’s snark. “You can be better than this, Alice. I know you have it in you.”
“I’m already better, Olivia. That’s the point. Mistress has made me my best self.”
“By whose standards?”
“Mine! I’m actually happy now. I don’t have to let people push me around-”
“You have no rights any more. You literally think you’re a possession.”
“I’m a pet! There’s a huge difference. I’m loved and cared for, and my mistress wouldn’t hurt me or abuse my trust.”
“She could, and she could make you unable to tell the difference.”
“Do you believe the Affini are like that?”
“I’ve seen it in action. They’ll sculpt you into whichever shape they please.”
“My mistress would never! I love her.”
“Why?”
“Because she takes such good care of me. I… don’t want to go back. I’ve thought about it. I like my life better now. All the stress and drama are gone. I’m happy. I like being a floret. If I hadn’t had to be one, I think I’d still prefer it. Mistress knew just what to say to show me the truth. I hope you come to the same conclusions, or if not, that you can be rehabilitated and set free. Mistress said that can happen sometimes. Believe it or not, I don’t want you to be unhappy.”
“That’s what you’d say if you did.”
“No, really. I don’t think we can be friends, not after how you made me watch my boyfriend die, but I want you to become a better woman, just like I did, and just like everyone on the Song is doing. Why do you always have to be so difficult, Olivia?”
“Because even as times change, I remain the same. You don’t know what that tank was like. I aged a decade every year, or something. Isn’t that the expression. Stars, it’s been ages since I had a normal conversation not about certain death… I’ve replayed every battle and every close call we had a dozen times. I’ve read an entire library. I’ve written a thousand versions of my last words, which I planned to broadcast while overloading my hyperdrive… I’m still me. I’m still precisely who I was before all of that. Maybe a little addled by side effects of interface, but still me.”
Just because those side effects include depersonalization, identity instability, reduced reluctance to look like a xeno weed, extreme pain from having only four limbs, and many other negatives doesn’t mean Ember isn’t precisely who she was before she first connected. Ember is a real person, not an object, despite how she sometimes has trouble relating to normal Terrans now.
“Then why do you flinch when my floret uses your name, ‘Olivia?’”
“I don’t. Affini… What did you do to her? Why is she like this now? Can you at least tell me that? I just want to understand.”
Even if Alice isn’t a friend, seeing how she’s deteriorated into a mindless puppet is sickening. It’s not a big change, but still. She’s a Terran and has a right to be treated with respect and humanity. She’s a person too! If the weeds won’t willingly let her go free, maybe they can explain to Ember what’s going on. It has to be more than some xenodrugs. It can’t be that easy to take somebody down. You can’t just… overwrite somebody’s entire belief system in a couple of weeks. And maybe Ember is speaking as though Alice isn’t present, but as far as she’s concerned, for right now… that’s not inaccurate.
“What do you mean, little one?”
“I mean to ask how hard it was to turn her into… this. It’s like she’s missing something now. Just what torture did you subject her to?”
The affini is now looking at Ember fully. Somehow, she can tell the weed’s attention is only slightly diverted by the Terran slave in her lap. A vine twitches, and with that, Alice isn’t going to be interrupting their discussion any time soon.
“I would never torture my petal,” the affini says tensely but calmly. “She’s far too dear to me to let any harm come to her. I find it difficult to believe you’d think otherwise.”
“She’s clearly been harmed somehow, or she’d be fit to participate in the conversation.”
“No. This discussion is agitating my Alice and I won’t see her upset in that way.”
“She could handle herself before you got your vines on her.”
“Yes, she could, but I don’t believe doing so was to her benefit. Why do you?”
“Because…” That’s actually kind of hard to explain quickly. The Affini don’t care about rights or freedom or self determination, or even the right to be wrong (probably). How can Ember argue against them? Maybe their inability to understand is why they subjugate: they literally don’t know that it’s wrong. “I don’t believe that looking happy is the same as being happy. I don’t believe that never being stressed is a positive thing. You’re steering her to a local utility maximum when the global maximum is somewhere far from your care.”
The affini looks flustered for a moment, twitching silently before replying in a measured tone. “We do, in fact, care about maximizing our florets’ global happiness. That’s why, although my floret would have liked to berate you for insulting me, I chose to preserve her inner quiet. That’s why we don’t mind that domestication can be difficult. You’ll come in time to see that our perspective is correct. Your temporary resistance will yield to enduring satisfaction. This is true in all cases.”
“It isn’t true in mine.”
“There was a saying on Earth, if I recall. ‘Nobody ever didn’t die.’ What you’re attempting to prove to me is the equivalent of somebody of your age explaining that unlike all the rest, you won’t die, simply because you haven’t yet. While I question your owner’s aptitude, that isn’t mine to judge. You’re clearly still a feralist and you will eventually be liberated from your silliness.”
“No.”
“Arguing with me will change nothing and you’re aware of that.”
“And you’re claiming that all you did was give Alice some xenodrugs, and she’s a pet now?”
“Xenodrugs and a loving home, yes. Her resistance dissipated quickly. I’m aware that I’m lucky in that respect.”
“Is she the first floret you ‘owned?’”
“That’s a little personal, don’t you think, terran?” The affini smiles. “My floret has made my life better in many ways too, which I believe isn’t something our literature stresses. We enjoy having a cute pet in our lives. That’s all you need to know on that topic.”
Disturbing.
“I don’t want to be a floret.”
“Unfortunately, that decision has already been made. You don’t have a choice any more. But why are you talking to me about this? I’m nobody to you. Your mistress should be to one to ease your concerns.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry for bothering you. I just wanted to know what had happened to my crewmate.”
The affini freezes for a moment before replying. “She’s happy now. It’s that simple. Alice and most of our pets prefer to be pets. While I sympathize with your internal struggle, accepting that is for the best.”
“So… she wants this?”
“Yes, blossom. What you see missing is simply her distress. Putting aside your prejudice, would you really say she was so unhappy with me?”
Clearly, Alice is very happy. When Ember had come by to say hello, she was smiling at her owner and looked generally ecstatic. While a proper Terran would never be that way in front of a weed, Alice certainly was. There’s no reason to believe now was different from other times. Even if it’s wrong on fundamental ethical levels, claiming that Alice was miserable as a floret would be a lie.
“No. But-”
“Given that she’s happy, and happier than with you, would you say I had decreased her utility?”
“No.”
“Do you truly believe she would have been capable of improving her life beyond what you can imagine I’ve given her, based on what your mistress most likely has done to make your life more pleasant?”
“No.”
“Or that you on your ship would have been able to provide more happiness than I have provided now?”
“I… That’s not-”
“Then how could you believe that I’ve done anything wrong? If my floret is happier now than she was and happier than she could have made herself, where is my crime?”
Ember doesn’t want to answer that, because it might be the answer the affini is looking for. She’s tricking her. There’s a lie in there somewhere. Ember just has to figure it out and refute the xenos’ derangement. There’s got to be a way. There must be a flaw. Freedom isn’t free!
“Because you prevented her from making mistakes that would lead her to make better decisions in the future and then improve beyond what you’re willing to provide. Being able to move freely is important as well as being able to choose one’s future.”
“So you’re basing your resistance to the Compact on a hypothetical? I-”
“I’m basing it on a higher opinion of humanity than you have. It can do better”
“Through mass resource deprivation (intentional), destruction of your home planet (intentional), and conquest without domestication of the first alien species you encountered (intentional)? Does that really seem better to you, my cute feralist interlocutor?”
“It does, because we had a chance to improve. I know our history is shorter than yours, and I know we aren’t perfect yet. We have a right to make mistakes and to improve, don’t we? You took that from us. You took our chance to become better by ourselves.”
“You had many chances. What I saw was a species rife with bigotry and oppression of various kinds. I even heard of a few pilots from your Cosmic Navy being subjected to untested systems with degenerative neurological effects. A friend I made a few decades ago has been telling me that terrans are so starved for affection that half of those who come into Domestication Branch Offices considering becoming florets agree as soon as they’re given a hug. How is that a system that’s improving?”
“We’ve been getting better over time for a thousand years.”
“Then I’m happy I didn’t have to see how you treated one another back then. If our construction ships had taken a slightly different course…” She descends into muttering.
“What about you? You’ve just… always been perfect?”
“Not always, but by the time we were able to leave our world we’d put most of our pettiness behind us.”
“You still need to conquer other species.”
“We don’t conquer, we domesticate. We don’t enslave, we liberate from distress. Why didn’t your owner address these concerns in the time you’ve been together? That’s one of their responsibilities.”
“She said the same things you did and it wasn’t more satisfying then than now.”
“Then why are you talking to me? What do you hope to gain from this conversation?”
“I wanted to understand how you could think Alice is better off now. I see why you think that. Thank you for your time.” That should shut her up.
“I wish you well, little floret.”
“I’m not a floret.”
“I wish you well regardless.”
The signal to go away probably couldn’t be much more blatant, not that Ember wasn’t ready to leave. That affini gave her a lot to think about. Is Alice really that much happier now? She did look happy and she’d only smiled a handful of times when they were flying together. Ember knows because she could see through every camera at once all the time. That’s not something to admit publicly, of course. But Alice wouldn’t have been able to be happier by her effort and will. That’s also obvious. Given that fact, how could Ember claim she wasn’t better off as a floret? It makes no sense. It’s treasonous. It’s… dare she use the term… heretical. Even if Alice knew better, she accepted it anyway. So… maybe domestication did- Maybe being turned into a slave did her good. Ah, no. There’s no way for that to be true. It sounds stupid to even think through the phrase. Maybe she thinks she’s happier as a pet, but that’s just the xenodrugs speaking through her mouth. Of course.
A gentle tug pulls Ember away from those thoughts. Verda is standing close to the street, where a tram’s doors are open. Right, they need to go somewhere. Where, again? To the neurologist who’s going to help Ember’s brain to unfry. Unlike weaklings, Ember is strong and wouldn’t be happier as a pet. Her problems can’t be solved that way. Instead, she needs medical help, and if the weeds weren’t lying, that’s free for everyone, floret or not. Another tug reminds her not to stand there thinking and to get on the thing. Right, she should probably do that.
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Cellulose & Steel