Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

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
- 71
- 72
- 73
During breakfast, Verda’s scheming look reappears along with a growing rustle of her foliage. It doesn’t take long for her smirk to become visible and for her to address her prisoner. The expression on her face screams that what she’s about to say will be very dangerous and shouldn’t be taken at face value. The mountainous being reaches over to adjust the collar of Ember’s shirt, moving too quickly to avoid.
“Tdaiyn,” she begins, using the word that confirms she’s up to something. “If you’re still willing, I have a proposal to make.”
“I’m listening.”
Ember regrets the necessity of looking away from the weed in order to safely transfer fruit salad to its mouth. It doesn’t want to let this go, since it tastes really good and it’s really hungry for some reason. That doesn’t mean that the Terran isn’t paying careful attention to what’s being said. Verda’s xeno subterfuge means that full focus on what she says is always needed.
“Good, I would hope so. You’re certainly aware of how risky surrendering a vulnerable individual into your care would be, particularly given your record. Your antics of yesterday confirm my concern. With that in mind, the deal we make will, I’m sure, provide for the safety of any seed that latches onto you.”
She pauses dramatically, waiting for Ember to respond. Knowing that that’s what’s happening, Ember watches with silent attention, very cautiously continuing to eat. Verda hides her mild annoyance.
“I will provide the means for you to prove your abilities as a psychologist, and in turn, you will promise to be a well behaved floret until the completion of your task.”
“How do I know you wouldn’t sabotage me?”
“Because sabotaging an innocent bystander would be the consequence, which is something every affini would consider unacceptable.”
“Even you?”
“You underestimate how far I’ve already pressed convention by proposing this. If you fail, or delay, or attempt anything in violation of our understanding, I’ll use whichever xenodrugs on you that I please for the next two days.”
“Why wouldn’t you do that anyway? I thought it was normal to fill florets’ brains with xenodrugs. Plus…”
“Don’t tempt me, pet. I’ve restrained myself because I believe that’s to your advantage for various reasons. This will simply be a demonstration that my techniques are superior to yours. I thought you were confident in your abilities.” She smirks.
“No, we’re going to talk about it. Are you going to prove you only pretend to care, or are you going to listen for a change? What’s even happening? I’m fucking confused and my head hurts and I’m sick of it. You’re everything I expected from the Affini, maybe worse. And I’m not your fucking pet!” Saying that didn’t feel as nice as setting Verda permanently on fire would. The botanical oppressor’s expression chills.
“What’s the matter, Ember?”
“Everything. You knew it wasn’t my fault that stupid floret decided to frame things in the worst possible light. You knew that I didn’t even want to talk to her about it at some point. I don’t know what her problem was, but it’s certainly not mine. I’ve been putting up with so much insanity, and I just want it to stop. She… I didn’t think she actually wanted to model a uniform for me!”
“She told you that… Really? I can’t blame you for not believing Dahlia was serious, if the idea was hers.”
“Really? You seemed to blame me before.”
“Concluding that you were continuing the behavior that you’ve been so reluctant to pause even for an hour, even when conversing with strangers, was only logical. How did your conversation begin? I might need to have a serious discussion with Dahlia’s rapchik.” Verda’s vines curl into little spirals as her face starts to look increasingly annoyed.
“I said something about freedom, then she kissed me, but she kept asking and I kept answering. At some point I stopped thinking she cared. Are you trying to tell me that wasn’t a trick?”
Talking about that feels very uncomfortable, but Ember can’t help hoping that Verda will understand. She’s not completely evil. There’s some spark of integrity in her core. There has to be, or Ember wouldn’t be mentally capable of hoping that there was.
“No, darling. If it was a trick, it was one in which I had no involvement. Your version of events is entirely in line with how I’ve seen you act before. Trying on uniforms when you don’t even have one any more seems…” Verda scowls, types something into a portable computer she retrieves from elsewhere, and starts to relax. “The matter will be resolved. For what value that has, I’m sorry for misjudging the situation.”
“You see? You weeds always do that. You can’t help yourselves. Everyone you taint becomes the same way. You’re monsters!” Even if she says she’s sorry, she probably doesn’t mean it.
Verda shudders, clearly hurt, but doesn’t respond. She remains lost in thought while her prisoner finishes her breakfast.
“What did you even think you were doing? I don’t get it. Why?”
“Most florets would consider that a reward.”
“I wouldn’t. I’m not a floret.”
“That unfortunate and inaccurate perspective is my fault. Do you know how much easier it would be to have you implanted? Do you know how apt that would be? It could happen tomorrow. I’ve been told by various strangers I meet that that would be to your benefit. You’re aware of that, aren’t you?”
“I’m sure you aren’t lying about having been told that.”
“Of course not. It’s such an obvious and understandable step that I’ve been questioned over my refusal. Your good public behavior is allowing me not to take that course of action, Ember. That will not happen until I believe you’re ready, but if others disagree strongly enough, as I’ve told you, that will be the end of the exercise. Are you prepared to be taken from me and implanted? That isn’t a threat, it’s a warning.”
“Maybe I’ll get somebody better.”
“When you can’t even agree to stop attempting to seduce florets into feralism, literally as well as metaphorically?”
“You wouldn’t have reacted differently.”
“I would have. I don’t particularly care about your insane ravings, since I know you’ll come to understand that your present understanding is incorrect. Just as you’ve stopped complaining about ‘communism,’ I expect you to eventually accept the rest of the reality that the rest of the Compact occupies. Further, I didn’t merely ask once. I asked repeatedly, and you chose not to agree to the minimum possible standard that’s expected of me. As your owner, your actions do reflect on me. What does it say to everyone else when I take no actions to stop you from spreading feralism?”
“You didn’t have to do the rest…”
“I don’t believe the lesson would’ve stuck otherwise. You came to no harm, but you did see in great detail what is possible.”
“And now you expect me to trust you in some… What is this?”
“A test. You want contact with the outside world, a hole to scream into without judgment, somebody to help. This can be all of those things. Even something you do that I don’t know about unless you choose to tell me. Being kept busy will do you good.”
Fascinating… “You’ve made your threat for if I fail. What do I get when I succeed?”
“The satisfaction of having bested a specialist with a fleet’s worth of logistical backing, despite having no proper training in domestication.” Ember winces. It still hates that word, especially when referring to Terrans. “And the pride of a job well done and somebody else helped.”
“That’s it?” A xeno scam. Verda wants it to risk… not much really, considering the fact she’s done what she’s threatened already.
“What do you want that I wouldn’t already give you, Ember?”
What does it even want? Food, clothes, anything at all… Any material good can be compiled or scavenged, in spite of supply chain inefficiencies. Any intellectual property can be copied and downloaded. Any experience can be replicated by virtual reality. It hadn’t had a chance to really think about just how richly even the lowest affini live. What couldn’t Verda give it if she wanted to? There’s only one thing, or maybe two, that can’t be obtained trivially in the Affini Compact.
“My freedom. I don’t want to be a floret. I really don’t want to be your floret, Verda.”
“You know why that isn’t going to happen, my little ‘free terran.’” She sighs.
“Then… you’ll answer all the questions I have honestly during the time you’ve claimed for if you win.”
“Done.” Too easy.
“How do I know I can trust you? You never explained that. This seems a little…” To Ember’s benefit? Indulgent? Frivolous? Fetishistic, just as… Violet Cornucopia (it thinks that’s the name) had said. Maybe Verda’s a degenerate even by weed standards who wants to be dominated by Ember. That’s a good stepping stone to dominating Affini as a whole.
“Because, tdaiyn, I haven’t lied to you and I hope I never will.”
She gives Ember time to contemplate the assertion. She’s right, more or less. There have been plenty of times that she stretched the truth or left something out, but she didn’t lie, even when it made their interactions awkward. The sorts of things she’s admitted probably wouldn’t go over well if they were made public. Between that and her belief that she’s making its life better through domestication… It believes her.
“Then why would you use xenodrugs after but not during?”
“Because of information that a floret should not be given. I might tell you once you’ve become more accepting of my care, or not. We’ll see. That, and I’d like to see your face when you willingly present yourself for injection.” It shudders.
“No.”
“You don’t have to agree, but those are the terms. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to offer anything you’d prefer, Ember. Deal?”
“If you also promise not to use xenodrugs on me during the ‘experiment-’ Aside from the ones we’ve talked about.”
“Very well. You will be given a chance to demonstrate your abilities during which I will refrain from administering xenodrugs without extremely pressing need (in excess of yesterday’s need), but to maintain that arrangement you will behave in a manner befitting a proper floret. If you succeed, for two days as measured by a clock I will answer your questions directly. If you fail, you will not resist or complain as I apply the xenodrugs I believe to be to your benefit for two days. Is this acceptable, Ember Edok?”
“That isn’t my name.”
“Ember. Do you accept or not?”
“Deal.”
The affini across the table extends an enormous hand covered in invisible markings, which the Terran shakes warily. It still doesn’t trust her. They make eye contact as skin touches leaves, both eager for victory. Maybe Verda really does like conquering, and she’s just using helping lesser beings as a convenient excuse. That doesn’t seem quite true to Ember, but it’s certain there’s at least some ambition in her core. Affini don’t usually make wagers, do they?
This is going to turn out all right, isn’t it? Ember hopes it isn’t making a terrible mistake. Realistically, Verda could’ve done a lot worse since it directly contradicted her. What was that? Why did it say those things? Stars, why did it try so hard to bring Dahlia to her senses? Not that it wasn’t working… but more caution would’ve gone a long way. Now it’ll probably never be allowed to see her again. That’s a disappointment. She wasn’t that bad- for a floret. Aside from how she… what was that? Ember doesn’t get it. Verda prevents further introspection.
“With that settled, shall we go to our appointment, pet?”
“I’m-”
“Ah! A good floret wouldn’t contradict an epithet of endearment. Try ‘Ua tehe.’”
“That’s too far, Verda.” She laughs at her snared Terran.
“Of course, my darling little floret, who I’m eager to show everyone. We’ll be taking photographs later, but for now, we have somewhere to go. Oh, and you’ll be taking a bath when we return. I let you sleep too long, so we won’t have time before we go.”
Last night’s excitement… She means when she brutalized it with her vines, clearly.
“Where?”
“I don’t want to tell you. You’ll see when we get there, but I promise you’ll hate it less when you find out.”
“I don’t like this arrangement.”
“Perhaps you should have considered more carefully before agreeing. Now come. I plan to show you that I really have your interests in mind.”
Verda holds out a collar and looks directly at her incautious prisoner. It walks over to her sullenly, expecting even more humiliation. Fortunately, Verda seems to be done with that and they leave the house not much differently from usual. Ember starts to wonder whether that means she’s taking pity on it or whether it’s been domesticated more than it thought it had been.
They pass by the pair of deer florets that Ember saw when they first arrived on the ship, though this time they’re just chatting excitedly. The contrast between then and now is painful. Ember feels so much less defiant than before. It feels pathetic, as though it’s done something exceptionally stupid, but it doesn’t want to go back on its word, knowing that Verda will fully take advantage of her victory. It has no idea what she intends to do to it that’s short of class O, but it’s not sure it’d want to know either. It shudders. At least the agreement will probably get her to lower her guard. It reminds itself that this is only temporary and that Verda would probably be using xenodrugs otherwise.
After around an hour of travel, they arrive at a familiar building. This is the place with the xenogendered xeno. One of them. The tiny one with the metal things on her vines, Ember thinks. It’s seen so many weeds it’s been having trouble keeping track. They wait in the bizarre room devoid of florets until Verda gently and smilingly pulls her prisoner by the leash. There’s no risk of snapping its neck, though it’s aware that’s only because Verda would rather not. It knows the strength in Affini vines. Holding in a groan, Ember follows.
They proceed along the hall and enter a room similar to the one they were in last time, just barely big enough for Verda and another affini not to crush each other against the walls. This one is even barer, having nothing on the walls but decorative floral patterns. At least, that’s what Ember assumes they are. Their mechanic arrives as soon as they do.
“Good day, Lily,” Verda says very cheerfully.
“Good afternoon, Verda, and you too, Ember.” She’s smiling.
“Ember, don’t you have something you want to say to faer?” She stoops down and speaks with a condescending tone. “Remember what we discussed.” Stars, no!
“No.”
“About pronouns. Do you remember now? Be a good floret,” she finishes meaningfully. Ugh.
“I’m…” It really doesn’t want to pretend that fake genders aren’t fake. Ember looks at Lily, who’s very close to eye level. She’s mostly expressionless, patiently waiting and most likely admiring Verda’s authority over her property. This is going to sting, isn’t it?
“I’m sorry for misgendering you.” Disgusting. It’s immediately ashamed, but how can it give up on a challenge it hasn’t even really started? And when gender was the issue it told Verda it could be better on… They’re going to assign it an “enby,” it’s certain. That’s the spiteful sort of thing a xeno would do. Then she’d punish it for being realistic and not indulging the egg’s internalized transphobia.
“Thank you. I accept the apology.” Lily smiles broadly, exhibiting an unrecognizable emotion that reads as happiness on her artificial face.
“My adorable floret isn’t aware of why we’re here yet.”
“Ah. Are you ready to try out what I made for you?”
She extracts something green from behind her back. It looks a lot like… No. That’s insane! No! She’s bringing out more vines! Two bright green affini vines are attached to what looks like an empty backpack with a shiny metal plug that Ember can tell is meant to go in its interface junction. The filthy weeds are trying to infect it! The disgusting vegetable floppiness of the attachment makes the ship ill.
“Don’t you dare try to assimilate me you grass type!” It backs away, only to hit Verda and beep in surprise. This is a very small room.
“Tdaiyn, remember your manners,” she says sharply. Oops.
“If chkcha doesn’t want to test this, I understand. Prosthetics are scary.” She doesn’t look offended, which, now that Ember thinks of it, she wouldn’t be wrong to be. It did sort of insult her work.
“Ember, do you feel ready to test this? There’s no pressure if you don’t want to. We can do it any other time you’d like, now that it’s made.” The tone of the weed engineer’s thickly accented voice remains calm and caring.
“You want to stick that in my brain…”
“How else would we connect it, darling? It would be useless if we didn’t,” Verda answers.
“You want to put your weird tendrils inside of me…” How vile. It shudders.
“It’s the same technology you’ve been using. We discussed this last time.”
“That’s different! It’s not… Affini.”
“What’s the difference, pet?” It’s not her pet.
“It’s…”
“It’s made to reduce your sensor dysphoria. Since our experiment in virtual reality turned out so well, I hoped that this would also be effective. We can’t have you trapped in a tank, can we?”
“No?” Maybe we can. That isn’t the worst thing to happen.
“No. Mx. Lily explained to me before this that it’s just a prototype. If it works, you’ll get a much lighter version you can carry around.”
“Why can’t you just give me sensors like a normal ship?” it asks the goblin affini.
“Terran technology is difficult to work with and very heavy and hard. I would not have made anything yet if I had to use your metals and wires.” Ouch. “Affini technology is much easier to change small details with. If your brain accepts the ‘interface,’ you will feel natural with your added limbs.”
“I see.”
“I know you’re nervous. It’s safe. Your mistress is very careful about what happens to you. We discussed the design in deep detail.”
Verda looks upset. She should be. She failed in the duty she willingly took on. Pathetic weed.
“Fine.” They look at it. “All right. I’ll try it. Better now than when I’m beeping in everyone’s face.”
“Good. Turn, please.” The affini gestures and waits for the Terran to rotate. It complies, ending up facing Verda, who looks tense still. She nods to her prisoner and to Lily at the same time.
“I will count down, Ember. Three. Two.” She brushes the hair from Ember’s neck, revealing where it knows its junction is. Having that bare feels extremely vulnerable, especially with the cold tips of the xeno’s “fingers” against its skin. It braces itself. “One.” Lily braces against Ember’s neck, pressing the plug against the socket. “Now.”
With great warning, the Terran has a second pair of arms, attached to a weed. That’s disgusting. It calms itself, trying not to have a panic attack because its body is being tossed around by a xeno. Otherwise, it feels… normal? The lack of any strange sensations or disruptions to its mental states is concerning. In the long run, it’s certain that this will have been the right call.
“How do you feel, Ember?”
“Fine.”
“Really? No complaints?”
“You’re holding part of me.”
“Oh! Yes. Linearize your forelimbs, please.”
Ember does as it’s told, and the backpack containing- it’d rather not think about that. The backpack goes on and it feels more like itself. Balance is a little weird, but it doesn’t take long for Ember to figure out how to stand normally. Waving its new appendages in little spirals seems to be the most efficient way to avoid leaning too far in any direction. The unpleasantness of the backpack is small compared to feeling the loss of its thrusters less. The vines seem to be connected to wherever the thrusters are supposed to go, which is extremely weird. It flexes. They aren’t as good as the simulated ones, but they’re all right.
The ship closes its EM sensory ports and adjusts to its new data profile. No, there’s nothing useful here. It touches the wall with its new graspers. They move intuitively and have full touch sensitivity. They’re a little more sensitive than Ember’s fingertips and they seem to be equally sensitive from tip to… trunk? It’s sure the weeds have a word for that. Even if it feels a bit weird with planntech- no. It’s not going to think about that. Nobody’s forcing it to think about that. If it doesn’t think about that, it feels all right. It’s fine. If it weren’t fine, it would know just by existing.
“Well?” Verda asks.
“It works. I don’t know how effective it’s going to be. I don’t want to talk about it now.”
It feels its captor flashing a look at Lily, who flutters in reply. She walks around Ember, observing everything and tapping the part of the backpack without sensitivity, checking that everything is functioning properly from a mechanical standpoint. She looks satisfied.
“Tell me if you ever have an issue with this, and tell me if you’re interested in a superior model. This has been a fun project.”
“Fun?” Ember finds that hard to believe.
“Yes! I had to learn the working of your interface design so that I could channel signals properly to your brain. I had to learn enough about terran brains to route the signals properly. I had to merge Affini bioengineering with Terran electronics and your body. I spent the entire time since we last met working on this. Seeing it functioning so well is a joy.”
“Um… Thanks.” It feels it should probably say that, given how long that must be. What was it, 78 hours? It wishes that this had come with a clock attached.
“I’m glad to have helped.”
The affini with the allegedly poor language skills beams at Ember. Maybe she does enjoy doing this after all. Now that it thinks about it, there are probably less enjoyable jobs one could do. Verda places a vine on its shoulder, making it almost jump. The slight air current she causes had given advance notice to Ember’s vine- Ew! What’s wrong with these weeds? They do they want to torture innocent Terrans? It snorts in revulsion.
“Are you ready to go home, pet?”
“I’m not-”
“Pet, remember what we talked about. We’re going home.”
That’s what they did. The long ride back through Verda’s dominion to her official residence gives the prisoner ample opportunity to evaluate its new encumbrance. Walking is only a little more awkward. It can still jump, should it need to. It could probably also latch onto something if it jumped high enough, and then pull itself up. That could be useful if it ever tried to- No, because any affini chasing it would have the same ability, plus decades of experience wielding it. Somehow, becoming stronger has made it feel less able to leave. It sighs.
Sitting still on a tram is even more boring than it had been. The ceaseless cycling of Embers v- utility modules, necessitated by its need to stay upright, quickly becomes boring. It tries storing them in its lap, but that’s extremely unsettling. Tucking the things behind it makes it lean too far back. Putting them straight up is tiring… somehow. It doesn’t want to touch the affini sitting in front of it, who has no involvement and probably doesn’t want to deal with that anyway. There’s nothing to do but cycle the modules gently. It feels really weird.
The more Ember cycles, the more its brain charges up. It’s getting closer to how piloting feels, or at least how piloting felt years ago, when it first entered its tank. That was the first time it felt properly free… the first time it was at home. It misses that feeling. It wouldn’t take long once the War had started for one system to be added after another, increasing its cognitive load and drawing out its ability to juggle dozens of subsystems. Ember doesn’t regret any of that, but it stopped being easy at some point and started being… work, for lack of a better term.
Even then, poorly equipped to govern tons of steel and composite ceramics as it might’ve been, it wants to go back. It wants to feel the nothingness against its hull, and see everything that can be seen without the burden of eyes. It wants to run and jump without legs. But that’s just sensor dysphoria. It goes away eventually. Song can be normal. It won’t always need weed technology. Some day, when its problems have been resolved, it’ll look back with amusement on today and turn its thoughts back to the world around it: a free Terra.
- 71
- 72
- 73
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Cellulose & Steel