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. |
The affini who commands the martial vigor of a billion of her people returns to her home to find her slave calmly sitting on the couch with her feet tucked under her legs in a posture known as meditating, with no evidence of having been emotionally disturbed since her departure. At least, that’s what Ember imagines happens. Verda might not know what meditation is. With her focus disturbed by her captor’s arrival, she opens her eyes and turns to look at her leafy face.
“Did you get into any trouble while I was gone?” the affini asks.
“No. I’ve just been sitting here.”
“I’m glad to hear that, darling.. I’m proud of you.”
Smiling benevolently, she moves over to the couch, where she sits lightly enough not to disturb the cushions. The vines on the side closer to Ember hang back, giving their owner a strange asymmetry. Tump thump ta-tump. Her biorhythms probably contain many secrets, but Ember remembers very clearly what happened the last time she focused too hard on them. She also remembers that “play” is involved, and that certainly isn’t something she feels any desire to experiment with. This close, she has to look almost straight up to see verda’s photosynthetic face, which wears an expression of curiosity.
“What have you been occupying yourself with?”
“I watched the videos you told me to.”
“Do you have any thoughts you would like to share?”
“No.”
“Nothing?”
“I don’t want you to touch me.”
“Was the subject that frightening?” Verda sighs.
“Why would anyone agree to that…”
“They usually don’t, which is why we don’t tell them. Most florets become accepting very quickly once they realize how much more comfortable they feel in an affini’s care.”
“But I didn’t.”
“No, pet.” Verda sighs. “I know that this will most likely erode your ability to trust me or be near me,” the plant says with a subtle wince. “But the good of the one in your care depends on your understanding of what you’re capable of doing to them, including the harm you’re capable of doing, Ember. Please don’t make me regret allowing you this responsibility.”
Ember checks the reflex to say she won’t in order to think about what that actually means. Verda could regret anything that makes “domestication” more difficult. She could regret Ember choosing to let her charge go free. She could regret many things that Ember couldn’t come up with.
“What does that mean?”
“It means, darling, that I expect you to behave in a manner befitting the seriousness of your present occupation. Perhaps now your outbursts will be at an end.”
That’s what she thinks! Ember can’t stop fighting. She can’t allow this to be her ending. She has to put a stop to it. And, maybe, if she can’t save everyone in the universe, maybe she can save herself? That could be something Verda could be talked into, in time and with sufficient pestering. There has to be a way out. Ember can’t bring herself to give up. If she did, there would be only one course of action left.
“How are you feeling medically, Ember?”
Verda waves some vines around her prisoner and looks satisfied.
“My head is much better. I won’t need xenodrugs.”
“I’m pleased to hear that. Do you feel up to visiting the xenoveterinary psychologist? I remember that you had a negative reaction before.”
“That wasn’t her fault. Nobody but a Terran can understand the Terran experience as well as Vanessa led herself to believe she does. As long as she doesn’t try to use xenodrugs on me again, she’ll probably be fine.”
“Are you certain? You don’t have to go if you aren’t. There are plenty of xenoveterinary psychologists on board if you’d rather see somebody else.”
“She almost seemed to sympathize. She was a lot better than most affini…”
“I had you scheduled to meet this afternoon. Will you be ready by then?”
“I will.”
“We will need to leave shortly before two. Try to complete any projects you start by then, Ember.”
“Fine.”
Picking up the tablet with which she talks to Evlen, the pilot sees that it’s now 1:26. There’s not much time for doing anything, but she should be able to talk to the prickly xeno for a few minutes since he should be done serving lunch by now. It’s obvious that Verda notices the time as well, because she snorts and shifts in her uncomfortably close position.
“Are you hungry? We have time for lunch if you are.”
“Can the compiler make a BLT?”
“What is that?”
“A sandwich with bacon, lettuce, and tomato on it.”
“Why do you abbreviate that?”
“I don’t know. Nobody calls it by its full name, ever.”
Verda tenses her vinetips while making a bemused expression. “I have no doubt that can be compiled. Sit at the table and I’ll make it for you.”
The sandwich is as good as Ember hoped. It might not be very special in an objective sense, but it tastes like Terra and it’s made well. Verda also compiled some chips which appear to have been made from real potatoes, which are satisfactorily crunchy and salty. There’s no time to linger over the meal, but Ember appreciates the food while she can. Her captor has nothing, as usual.
Transit to the psychologist’s office takes less time than it did before, probably because of the time of day and how the trams run. Verda seems to be keeping track of that, so Ember doesn’t worry about it. She wouldn’t mind if she were going alone, but Verda being willing to take on the stress of managing public transit, since she insists on going with her captive, is entirely acceptable. She wonders if now that she’s being treated more like a person, she’ll start being allowed to go places by herself. Maybe she and Evlen can go somewhere unmolested. That’s probably too much to hope for, but they certainly went somewhere by themselves last time. Then again, with Cia’s insistence that they’re a couple, she probably wouldn’t let her “floret” be alone with Ember. That wouldn’t do at all. Now that she thinks of it, since he’s a xeno, can she even get- don’t think about that.
A helpful thought in the back of Ember’s mind saves her from something. She’s not sure what because she elected to follow her instincts, but she’s sure it was a good idea and that she avoided going down a rabbit hole to Hades. With a head clear of bad ideas and filled only with pain and the sensory inputs of the journey, Ember leans back in hopes of enjoying the trip. That doesn’t actually happen because they’re already at their destination. Verda takes her hand in one of her vines and walks with her to the waiting room, ignoring how unhappy her prisoner is with the arrangement.
Apparently they’re right on time, because less than a minute passes between their arrival and being called to Vanessa’s office. Ember is pleased to find her unchanged, wearing an outfit equally garish to her last and looking equally floral. She waits until Ember is sitting before she starts to speak.
“Your m- Your companion tells me that you had bad side effects from the treatment last time. I’m very sorry for that. The medical information she provided me with should have been accurate enough to prevent anything from going wrong-”
Tump synk ka-tink. Tump synk ka-tink. Tump synk ka-tink. The sound echoes through the ship’s mind, reminding her that around plants there will always be biorhythms, and that only the strongest can remain unperturbed by them. She thinks of everyone on Terra, who won’t be aware of the effects and will blindly cuddle with and shake “hands” with the affini who visit them. Thousands or millions, probably more, will become pets, just because they didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. How would they know to suspect such a thing? Why would they ever think that the air around them could be tempting them to submit to those who consider themselves their betters? Tump synk ka-tink. And they will be happier than Ember has ever been in her life, content in a way that she can’t imagine. They’ll thank their mistresses and never question what led them to that point.
The affini was saying something before Ember got distracted. What was it, again? Right, that it’s not their fault Ember suffered from the xenodrugs. Typical.
“Verda told me the same thing. You said it was only supposed to last a couple of hours.”
“That’s true. It should have. There’s nothing to say other than that I’m sorry.”
“I understand, but I can’t trust affini medicine if those kinds of mistakes happen.”
Vanessa nods carefully, tendrils on the sides of her face twitching to show that she’s still intently observing Ember’s reactions. She notes something down on a pad of paper, using what looks like an old fashioned pen. “So what would you like to talk about with me today? Before, we were discussing your time in the Cosmic Navy as well as when you were flying with Verda on the Ides of November.”
“Biorhythms.” The weed freezes. “I learned what they’re for this morning.” She visibly shrivels. “You might not believe me, but I think Verda is trying not to be completely evil, since she doesn’t force herself on me very often.” That argument sounds a lot less compelling than it did in Ember’s head. Maybe she should rethink that perspective.
“Oh?”
“Can you explain more? I can’t really ask her and I’m a little confused.”
“I… see. Ember, that is a delicate subject. Could you be more specific?”
“All of it. I don’t get the point. Why do you weeds…”
“It’s a trait we evolved. That’s all there is to it.”
“I mean… But why? Don’t you see it’s…” The weed doesn’t care, even if she’s looking at Ember sympathetically. “You’re doing it to people!”
“We can’t help how our bodies are structured, Ember. I sympathize with the fact that you find it unpleasant, but you should remember just how much of human society was structured on the basis of straight sexuality.”
“‘WAS?’”
“The Human Domestication project is doing its best to assist in removing heteronormativity and oppositional sexism so that the next generation of humans is unburdened by any such thing.”
“You just admitted that you’re destroying my people’s culture based on your morality.”
Even though that project sounds worthwhile, there’s no way Ember’s going to trust xenos to get it right. That kind of thinking goes very nicely with book burnings. How many old treatises on economics will be left when the Affini are through?
“Roots-” Vanessa covers her mouth. Ember can see a slight increase in the tension of her xenodrug injectors. “We aren’t doing what you think we are. Humans have to be at the center of the social eradication of bigotry feralism, because if you were not, there would be no more humanity.”
“I’m aware of that.” Isn’t that the plan? How long will yet another slave species be worth keeping track of?
“My point is that Terran society projects the typical human’s drives and desires onto everyone, building social conventions around things that some of you simply have no interest in.”
“That’s not wrong, you know. Being abnormal is abnormal.”
“So it is, but those customs and traditions develop over time and become quite fixed. We have something similar, where what is natural for nearly every affini is simply how our society operates.”
“Including your desire for slaves?”
“I’m not here to debate politics and philosophy. I’m here because I want to help new florets adjust to being in an unfamiliar society while burdened by a lot of trauma. Verda is not paying me. I’m here by choice. Remember that.”
“Sorry.” Ember decides she should be more careful about what she says to whom. Clearly Vanessa won’t be agitated into providing more information.
“Maybe you could talk about why you’re so worried about slavery. Have you been forced to do any labor since your capture?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m forced to walk on a leash. Verda can strip me and bathe me in xenodrugs whenever she wants. I can’t talk to anyone outside this fleet, which means that anyone who wasn’t on me when we were caught is off limits until Verda says otherwise. I can’t go take a walk without her hunting me down. She’s even keeping me in her bed now.”
The xeno is frustratingly unperturbed. “Why are those things problematic? You can ask Verda if you’d like to go outside. Has she ever refused?”
“I still don’t want to be on a leash.”
“Does she think you’re going to try to run away?”
“Of course she does.”
“Then that’s why. You have to earn her trust as much as she has to earn yours, Ember.”
“I don’t want to deal with it.”
“You still haven’t explained how that relates to slavery.”
“Why else would you keep people as pets?”
“For the company?”
“You have one another.”
“That’s different.”
“I’m sure.”
The weed frowns, tapping her vines against the air. “Does that mean that you’re at peace with the docking incident?”
“No, but I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t have to be strong. Trying to be is clearly taking a toll on your mental health. Verda mentioned you’ve had several crises in less than a month. Not all of that can be blamed on having to adjust to new social expectations.”
“But I am strong. I’m fine.”
“Then is there anything you’d want me to help you talk through that you won’t want to argue about?”
Ember has to think about that. There are a lot of things she wants to talk about, but all of them are probably going to turn into yelling, if Verda is someone to go by. There is something, actually. It’s something Ember is clueless about and that Verda won’t get mad about if she hears Ember talked about it.
“The other day, Verda took me to visit one of her friends.”
“How was that?”
“Terrible. The floret tried to seduce me and then framed me as an evil terrorist trying to corrupt her.” Putting it that way makes it sound oddly fetishistic.
“And you weren’t doing that?”
The innocent pilot explains how things happened and how much of a victim she is, when Dahlia wanted to make her look bad for nefarious reasons. Vanessa nods along, looking rather uncomfortable with the discussion. Ember can’t help wondering how bad this is that a therapist is visibly upset about something. That isn’t even her real face.
“How did you feel when you were discovered?”
“Sad. Ashamed. Betrayed.”
“Feeling those things is not wrong. How did Verda react?”
“She didn’t believe that it wasn’t my fault and she punished me with xenodrugs.”
Vanessa looks even more uncomfortable with the situation. Ember wasn’t even trying to upset her.
“Even when you explained?”
“She wasn’t expecting a floret to basically lie, which is apparently what happened. Verda asked her friend later and her floret was leaving out the part where most of the conversation was her idea and her egging me on.”
“What happened when Verda learned that?”
“She told me she was sorry.”
“That must have been nice.”
“I would’ve preferred if she’d listened to me before. It feels as though every time I try to cooperate with her, something goes horribly wrong. I’m worried she’s going to end up killing me somehow, and she’ll feel guilty, which she should, but I’ll be too dead to enjoy it.”
“That is true, florets die when you kill them,” the affini psychologist says, nodding wisely. “Do you think she’s trying as hard as she can to take good care of you? From what I understand, Terran media never portrayed us as being capable of that.”
“I don’t know. I think she is trying, but she doesn’t understand me at all.”
“Have you tried to explain how you feel to help her understand?”
“I’ve tried every day, but we always end up fighting about something, and she keeps wanting to treat me like a doll.”
“And you don’t like being pampered.”
“No! It’s wrong. I don’t want to be touched. I hate it.”
“Do you hate when humans touch you, Ember?”
“Sometimes.”
“Sometimes you don’t? What do you think the difference is between those times?”
“Usually the people I don’t mind aren’t obsessed with touching and groping me and are capable of backing off when I need space.”
“And do you need space often?”
“I guess.”
Ember folds and unfolds her vines in her lap. She never thought about that very much, but it’s basically true. Ginger touching her as much as she did was kind of a lot, even if (at the time), she didn’t mind it. Having a crew crawling through your cavities is extremely different from having the heat and friction of somebody being close to you. And obviously all of that is different from touching a xeno, and very different from being touched by a xeno unwillingly. It shudders.
“Maybe you should tell Verda that.”
“She’d just think I was being stubborn and a ‘feralist.’” Ember spits.
“I think you should try. You should remember that when you’re upset, her instincts will be telling her that you need a hug so that you can stop being unhappy. Her training is telling her that you’ve been conditioned to irrationally see her as evil, and that the best way to cure that misconception is to show you how loving she can be.”
“What if it doesn’t work? Why shouldn’t she just use xenodrugs to make my feelings go away?”
“That would also be effective. I sincerely hope that she’s getting second opinions on her treatment of you rather than pursuing a… sunken coast?”
So this weed wants Ember drugged too.
“That’s the problem. I’m trapped. Anything I say can be used as an excuse to hurt me with xenodrugs and I have no way to stop it.”
“But you said that Verda was trying to understand you.”
“I think she is, but she can’t because she’s a xeno. The Terrans here don’t understand either. I’m completely alone.”
“You’re not alone, Ember. You’ll find somebody who you can relate to, and if nothing else, I will still be willing to listen.”
“That’s not very useful.”
“Having somebody on the outside of a situation can be useful, even if that person can’t simply fix your problems for you.”
“That’s true. I don’t know. None of this feels right.”
“The next time you see me, tell me if Verda hasn’t been willing to give you more space. I will tell her that I think it will help this evening. If that doesn’t work, we can discuss your next steps. Does that sound acceptable?”
“It does. Thanks.” Ember feels that that’s what a “good floret” would say. That means the visit is ending, and she doesn’t mind at all. It was somehow tiring. Maybe she was just tired from earlier. Talking about things isn’t fun. It’s a lot nicer to cancel out offending sensations and fly somewhere far away.
Vanessa escorts Ember out of her office and sends her to the room in which Verda is waiting for her. The Terran and her captor then descend to the ground floor and turn to find a way back whither they came. They reach the station just as a very crowded tram comes to a stop at the sign, meaning they don’t have to wait. Ember sees that as at least one positive for the day.
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