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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
- 76
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- 78
The instant they arrive, Ember’s tablet is in Verda’s vines. She presses buttons all over it, and a few seconds later transfers it to the grasp of her prisoner, who feels oddly violated. Then the leash comes off and Verda flows into the kitchen to attend to something or other, humming quietly.
A new icon stands prominently on the home screen: an envelope with a checkmark. Envelopes obviously look nothing like that, but they apparently used to hundreds of years ago. Even if Ember might wonder at times why that would change, there’s no time for that now. It presses the appropriate location on the screen, but the tablet displays a message of “No imminent votes. Try again later.”
“Darling, so you know, I added several playlists to your music collection, if you’d like to listen to them some time. There’s also a dictionary, provided you’re able to find it.”
“Find it? What are you talking about?”
“It’s there, but you won’t be able to access it unless you can locate it. That shouldn’t be any trouble, should it, pet?”
It’s not her pet. Ember looks at the screen again. There’s clearly no dictionary to be found. That means it must be hidden. Verda isn’t the type to pull that sort of prank. It’s there. Ember just has to be clever and think like a weed, disgusting as that might feel.
The Terran settles onto the couch, holding the tablet in its left hand and poking with its right. In every menu there are numerous compatibility and accessibility options. High contrast, low contrast, audio only, video only… None of that has anything to do with a dictionary. It checks the language options, which are tucked under a dozen headings at least. None of them are correct. Naturally, Ember checks the music folder, too. Nothing. None of the playlists have anything that could be called a dictionary, and if they did, it would be too obscure to be called that at all. The enslavement videos don’t show a dictionary either, and there don’t seem to be more than there were. It shakes the tablet, turns it upside down, and checks its contacts. Still nothing.
Oh well. If Verda’s scheming something, it doesn’t have the energy to figure out what that would be… for now. Ember decides that the time has come to add the miniature weed from the inner deck into its contacts. She demanded that it do that, didn’t she? And since she and Verda know each other, it would do well not to antagonize her. She’s very suspicious. Ember didn’t fail to notice that she didn’t tell it her name, or even her pronouns. Weeds adore their pronouns (for the destruction of humanity, of course). The small paper with her username is still tucked close to Ember’s chest.
miss_raven seems to be offline at present, since she doesn’t immediately add Ember in retaliation. She probably already knows who it is, so it needn’t introduce itself. The fact she hasn’t said anything is probably for the best anyway, since it has nothing to report. It doesn’t even have a mark yet. How’s Ember supposed to- What’s it doing, again…?
Verda stops by on her way to her chair. She looks at her prisoner’s tablet to see what it’s doing. For the time being, it has nothing to hide. The weed nods.
“Did you find the dictionary, pet?”
“No.” Lying probably wouldn’t have provided any benefits.
“That’s too bad. I’m sure you’ll find it in time.”
She stops looking at Ember and moves her computer in front of her, settling in for what sounds like the beginning of a very long essay.
“Are you going to tell me where it is?”
“No. You’re a very competent ‘free terran,’ are you not?”
“...”
“At worst, you’ll be entertained until you discover the location. You can do it.”
She smiles and then returns to her work, ignoring her captive’s attempts at restarting the discussion. This is a trick, an attempt to make it give up and agree to be a weak and worthless pet! It will never give in. Of course it’s there, but Ember doesn’t know how to find it. That means that something has to change. What? How would a weed hide an icon…
Ember looks very carefully at the screen. There’s nothing hidden anywhere. It taps everywhere that isn’t already an icon. It taps everywhere inside the voting application as well. Nothing. The tapping and scrolling continues for what feels like hours, with no benefit. It’s not even found a place where something could hide. There aren’t any ports where it could plug itself in, either.
Even if Verda is clever, a Terran can outsmart her. She’s just a xeno. She can’t outwit Ember! The solution is right in front of it. It can feel it…
“Does this thing accept voice commands?”
“No, pet. That model does not,” she says absently, not taking her eyes or vines off of what she’s doing.
That’s Ember’s last idea. It gives up for now since repeating what it’s already tried is obviously not going to be helpful. This is a good time to listen to music. The prisoner recovers its earphones from their rightful spot under the couch and plugs them in. There are quite a few new things to try. It settles on an “Opus of Two Butterflies” by a composer whose name is in Chinese for some reason. That means that the Affini cared enough to figure out how to encode Chinese characters, and distributed that software in general. That’s bizarre.
The music is actually good. It’s as soothing as most of what Verda’s allowed so far, but it’s different enough to stop the monotony. The violinist is clearly extremely talented. Ember wonders what else he’s done. The entry for the piece doesn’t include the names of the musicians, only that they’re an orchestra. Very uninformative.
It sighs and stretches after the finale. Dinner won’t be for a while. It’s… 4:45, actually. Not for a bit, at least, depending when Verda decides they’ll eat. There’s no uncertainty in Ember’s mind that Verda will be the one deciding that, with the power trip she’s been on for the past couple of days. It scowls at the weed, who pretends not to notice. Soon it will be able to stop pretending to be a floret and resume its rightful place in Terra’s navy. Soon, the weeds will know the suffering they have inflicted on other species. Soon…
Fighting on the losing side isn’t very fun. Given the past few years, Ember wonders if there might have been other wars where the side that was in the right lost. Surely that must have happened. Nobody’s controlling Terra’s history to ensure that things always turn out for the best… Enough about that. Terran curiosity needs sating.
“Verda.”
“Pet?” It’s not her pet, but it can’t say that for the time being. It hopes she remembers.
“What about the injection?”
“What about it?”
“Is that going to happen?”
“Yes, darling. I think it would be best to start that in the morning. That way you can prepare for everything else at the same time.”
“Are you going to tell me about that?”
“In the morning, pet. You’ve already had a long day and I wouldn’t want you to suffer another breakdown.” Stupid weed, trying to make sense and pretend to care… “Have you found the dictionary yet?”
“No.”
“Perhaps that would be a good use of your attention.”
“Did you actually put it on this or are you pretending so you can laugh at me?”
“Ember, I’m hurt. I would never taunt you in such a way! You’re as free to access that information as any Affini would be.”
“I’m not one of you w-” Ugh.
“You’re a very good floret, Ember. Good work catching yourself.” She beams her prisoner an affectionate smile.
“I’m not an affini.”
“No, pet. I didn’t say you were.”
The plant woman returns to her typing. She’s been going since they got back. Ember wonders what she’s so interested in saying. Maybe she’s filing a report- That’s what Ember was going to do! It was going to report Verda for misconduct. After this long among the weeds, it has to know how to imitate their ideology. After the one who tried to cure Verda…
There’s precisely one problem. It destroyed any chance of doing that when it told the responder that it wanted Verda to be taken care of. It should’ve asked for somebody else. Now it’s stuck with her unless it can prove proper abuse, and right now Verda looks more composed than ever. Even her imitation of a face is perfectly arranged. From far away, somebody might confuse her for a Terran… in the dark.
Obviously dinner isn’t for a while, so Ember decides that this is as good a time as any to talk to Evlen. Hopefully he won’t be busy right now. He probably will be, but at least he’ll reply when he can. He’s really good about that. Unlike some people… Those are people that Ember would rather not think about for now. Evlent said something while Ember was out.
[Ruby Trunk]> len_pickle: My mistress said she’s going to talk to your mistress later and see when we can visit. She says it should be in the next week. I’m excited. I’ve been planning an entire picnic!
Evlen… Ember’s heart is always warmed by how cheerful and normal he is. In a ship populated by deranged xenos and subhumans, just having somebody capable of having a conversation without calling it “pet” or “cutie” is a huge relief. It’s too bad Ember’s gay.
[membership_plan_11]> chat: Really? I’m looking forward to that! I’ve missed your cooking. Hopefully Verda won’t stop us from seeing each other. She’s been weird lately.
[membership_plan_11]> chat: Anyway...
[membership_plan_11]> chat: You’ll never believe the day I had.
The Terran stretches again, enjoying just how long and comfortable the couch beneath it is. The ceiling is the same as ever. It’s become rather familiar with it lately, since it was being allowed to sleep out here. Stars, agreeing to give that up was a terrible decision. Evlen replies after several minutes. He must not have been cooking after all.
[Ruby Trunk]> len_pickle: What happened?
[membership_plan_11]> chat: I was taken to two different “vets” and a completely different affini who tried to give me scary looking xenodrugs.
[Ruby Trunk]> len_pickle: Why? Are you sick again?
[membership_plan_11]> chat: No, I’m fine. I have no idea what Verda’s problem is. If she goes insane again, I don’t know how I’ll manage.
[Ruby Trunk]> len_pickle: If you need somewhere to stay, my mistress and I would be happy to help. Do you even know anyone else?
[membership_plan_11]> chat: I don't.
That reminds it to ask Verda something.
“What happened with Dahlia?”
“Oh, yes. I meant to tell you before. Thank you for reminding me, darling. It seems you were correct about what was happening between the two of you. However, she did not lie. While what she said was technically true, it was not reflective of reality and was extremely misleading. She didn’t notice.”
“That’s…”
“Very.” Verda nods solemnly.
“What an idiot!” Are florets allowed to say mean things? Ember isn’t sure they’re allowed to have negative thoughts in their tiny little meaty heads.
Verda wrinkles her nose and thinks. “I don’t believe that visiting her and her owner in person will be necessary for quite a while.”
Thank fuck. It knows florets aren’t allowed to swear so it doesn’t say that. Maybe it could get away with it, but it’s much too curious about what the tablet and the drugs are about. It has to know! But it has to talk to Evlen too. He must have replied by now…
[Ruby Trunk]> len_pickle: You should make some friends, Song. Your mistress hasn’t been locking you away, has she?
[membership_plan_11]> chat: No, but the floret she tried to make me be friends with was insane and got me into a lot of trouble.
[membership_plan_11]> chat: But about today. Verda tried to make it up to me with pancakes.
[Ruby Trunk]> len_pickle: That wasn't enough?
[membership_plan_11]> chat: No lol. Even if it was a huge stack. I don’t get it. She’s always pushing so hard and we’re always doing something that upsets one of us. It’s as though the universe is trying to block us from understanding one another. Even if it isn’t and it’s just because I don’t want to be like my crew. Why’s that so hard?
[Ruby Trunk]> len_pickle: I don’t know. You’ll make it work. You’re both clever enough to do that. I’m sorry I don’t have more advice.
[Ruby Trunk]> len_pickle: Actually, I have to cook now. I’m trying Baked Yukon. Bye.
[membership_plan_11]> chat: What’s that?
The hedgehog doesn’t reply. He’ll get back to Song later, as he always does. It’s nice not to be under pressure to reply to him in the moment at every moment. That’s maybe the only good thing about being ashore. When Song’s interfaced, she has to deal with everything all the time and all at once. It’s stressful… That’s what a floret would say. A Terran doesn’t care about stress. A Terran can handle anything! A Terran would never complain, especially not to a xeno. Only a xeno could enjoy being pampered and bathed. She sighs and rotates toward the weed across the room, who seems to have stopped typing.
“Evlen says he’s coming to visit me this week.”
Verda frowns and then tries to hide it. “I know. Won’t that be delightful? The two of you are very cute together.”
“...”
Verda smiles at her prisoner. “I think it’s time we ate. We can wait to continue your Affini lessons until you have a proper dictionary.”
So that’s her scheme. By hiding the dictionary she can permanently delay having to empower it. What a strange and inconsistent xeno. Song has to find the solution soon, if for no reason other than the reputation of Terra. After all, Verda will be judging all of humanity based on her performance. That can wait, of course. Even if this is important and even if breakfast was big, Song’s more than ready for dinner.
- 76
- 77
- 78
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Cellulose & Steel