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memento_vivere That evening, the little group all settled out on the Institute pavement to eat supper and enjoy the stars, dragging with them a mountain of blankets and a portable heater to ward off the chill night-time air.
It was obvious to everyone from Blink’s continued lack of appetite that she still wasn’t comfortable. She looked… tired? Fed up, certainly. Her friends had been ‘coaching’ her on how to behave properly all afternoon, and her patience had started to wear thin. What she would normally have torn into with gusto, tonight she’d barely touched, poking it around on her plate.
It was apparently getting on Aspazija’s nerves, too. Seeing Blink picking her supper apart and eating only select elements of it, she gave her a gentle swat on the back of one shoulder. “Eat, don’t dissect,” she scolded.
Glaring, Blink purposefully took an enormous bite of it (which almost resulted in a choking fit). “Better?” she asked, through the mouthful, spraying crumbs.
Aspazija snickered and made exaggerated ew faces in return. “A little. Maybe not such a huge mouthful next time, eh?”
With the aid of a good half a glass of water, Blink finally swallowed the uncomfortable bolus. “You’re turning me into a walking stereotype,” she griped, turning her supper end over end in her hands. “Eat untidily, grunt, slouch, scratch my aft. Why do I have to be so obnoxious? I met a lot of spurs on my travels that were just as delicate as I am at the moment. Nobody says a spur has to be the pinnacle of troglodyte masculinity.”
“Bee-… if you were a spur, I’d agree with you. You could be as soft and fluffy and effeminate as you wanted, because it wouldn’t matter if they did challenge you to prove who you were.” Rae covered his face. “You’re trying to avoid raising suspicion, not making a political statement! If you don’t get the hang of it here, now, in safety, no-one will fall for it when you’re out there on your own-”
“No-one’s going to fall for it anyway, because it’s so exaggerated! Nobody behaves like this! What I am is immediately obvious, to anyone with even half a functioning brain cell-!”
“Paksha, anyone would think we’d ask you to go up on stage and convince every politician on Tejiva. All you need to do is fly under the radar, for a little while. Don’t raise suspicion - don’t go throwing yourself into a group of spurs and trying to prove who you are – and you’ll be all right.
Blink glared at him, silently.
He stared her out. “I’m not asking you to put yourself in danger because I find the idea amusing, and you know that,” he said, softly. “I know you’re going to put yourself in danger, no matter what I say, because it’s who you are. I – we – just really want to try and help you make the best of a rotten situation, and your gender is the part of you that puts you most at risk.”
At last, Blink let her gaze drop to her lap, and muttered something that could (with a little imagination) have been an apology.
“You know we’d both come with you, if we could.” Aspazija covered Blink’s fingers with her own, and squeezed, gently. “But we’ll probably stay quarantined for the rest of our lives. I might have survived heff but I’m still infectious, and if not for Sadie’s ‘magic’, Rae would turn into a horrible snarling plague carrier.”
“But we’ll be with you in spirit.” Rae let his hand join the pile. “And we want to know you that when you finally head off, it’s with the best chance possible of success.”
* * * * *
Blink lay awake, staring at the ceiling, for a very long time. She still felt bad for snapping at her friends, even though they’d reassured her that they weren’t hurt, and understood her frustration. (And if they’d had any idea where she was going, they’d have got to teaching her sooner.)
Her chest still ached, subtly, in spite of Aspazija’s assurances that the bindings wouldn’t damage her so long as she remembered not to wear them all the time, and hey, as soon as they found Frond, she’d get her real body back, right? But she felt… exhausted. Permanently out of breath, like her lungs had forgotten how to work. Breathing carefully, to avoid stirring the discomfort around her ribs. Hopefully she’d get the hang of it soon.
“Blink?” A voice said, very close to her ear.
Blink startled and sat bolt upright, clutching her sheet to her chest. “What-… what?” Her breath caught in her throat. “Dash?”
The small blue figure – laima-sized and wingless, but otherwise completely identical to her friend – did a little twirl. “Hey. Like it?”
“What-?! This-this place is cursed.” Blink managed a strange, helpless little noise of dismay. “Am I dreaming? I’ve got to be asleep. There’s no way it can have happened a second time. There’s no way-! Oh, mercy-”
“Bee, Bee-… it’s all right!” Skydash laughed. “I didn’t mean to make you jump, I’m sorry. I’ve hijacked the Institute’s holographic projection system.”
For several heartbeats, Blink just stared, dumbly. “…a hologram?” she managed, at last.
“That’s right. I saw you talking to the Interface, earlier, and extrapolated that must be what she was. It got me thinking! Normally, I can only transmit my holoform as far as I can physically see, and I wanted to see if my system was compatible with the Institute – and by that token, with other Coalition computers. Hold out your hand?”
Blink obediently held out her arm, and Skydash waved her hand clean through it.
“You see?”
Still half wondering if she was asleep, Blink stared at their hands for several more seconds, trying to touch their fingers together. There wasn’t even the smallest flicker of resistance – no sensation, nothing. She still hadn’t got used to it from the Interface, let alone her friend.
“Since we don’t really worry about holoforms very much at home, I never realised how useful they could be. Makes it so much easier to interact with other biological creatures. I’m not just a disembodied voice over a speaker, I’m a physical being – as good as – with body language.” Skydash ‘sat’ on the end of Blink’s bed – a strangely prim posture for a massless body that didn’t disturb the bedsheets. “I thought I ought to get some practice in. It’s hard not to sit in the bed.”
Blink smiled. “You’re doing all right so far. It’s a good idea, too. I just hope more places will have emitters that you can use.”
“If they don’t? At least I can hijack the rest of the computer.” Skydash smirked, naughtily, and tapped her nose. “Seriously, though? Computers here speak an unfamiliar language, and I’ll never know when I might need to talk to them. I should at least start to figure it out while I have the chance, since I doubt the standard interfaces will be designed with someone my size in mind.”
Blink’s lips compressed down to a serious line. “It was fairly tight for me, and I was a little smaller than you. Trying to fit into a communications booth was not fun.” She stifled a yawn, then snuggled down in the corner of her bunk, propped up in the pillows.
“I suppose at least logic is logic, no matter where you come from, right? I might not be able to speak laima, but if I can tell ‘on’ from ‘off’, at least I can get the basics down.”
Blink nodded, carefully. “Different species have their own systems, planetside, but the Institute uses Standard as it’s a mixed colonial computing environment. Same will be true of other Coalition vessels, like hibernacula etc.” She forced a smile. “I suppose you could call it, cross browser compatibility?”
“Something like that.” Skydash chuckled. “I checked the Institute data-library already. From what I can see, the same language is in use all across this sector of the galaxy. So long as I can speak it, we shouldn’t have any problems. While you’re out and about, looking for physical clues of Frond’s people, I can hit the datanet and look for other clues. Newspaper reports and things.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I probably shouldn’t admit, I’m a little excited to see all these new cultures. I didn’t really get the chance to see much, when I was travelling – I barely landed, except for a little fuel…”
Skydash chattered on for a few more minutes, noticing that Blink’s responses grew subtler and subtler until she didn’t get a response at all. She focused her attention more tightly on the fessine, dipping deeper into the computer and firing up a few more senses.
Blink’s eyes had closed, and she’d slumped even further into that barely comfortable posture against the corner of her bunk. Her long neck would have a painful crick in it, come morning. Her breathing had evened out, picking up a funny little nasal rasp that didn’t seem to mean anything.
“Bee?” Skydash leaned her hologram closer. “Are you all right?”
No response, except for those subtle, nasal gurgles. Hm. ‘Sleep’ was something Skydash was aware that organic creatures did, but still didn’t have much of a frame of reference for. She’d assumed it was just like recharging and defragmenting? Organics generally retired to somewhere comfortable to let their muscles reset, and Blink didn’t look remotely comfortable, but maybe laima didn’t have to be?
Skydash dipped into the system and scanned the small body for vital signs – pulse normal, oxygen saturations good, respiration rate low but not out of range. The subtle electrical activity in her brain had dimmed right down, too. Whatever she was doing, she certainly wasn’t online.
“Goodnight, spark,” she murmured, softly, to avoid waking her back up. “See you in the morning. Sleep well.”
14,617 out of 50,000
It was obvious to everyone from Blink’s continued lack of appetite that she still wasn’t comfortable. She looked… tired? Fed up, certainly. Her friends had been ‘coaching’ her on how to behave properly all afternoon, and her patience had started to wear thin. What she would normally have torn into with gusto, tonight she’d barely touched, poking it around on her plate.
It was apparently getting on Aspazija’s nerves, too. Seeing Blink picking her supper apart and eating only select elements of it, she gave her a gentle swat on the back of one shoulder. “Eat, don’t dissect,” she scolded.
Glaring, Blink purposefully took an enormous bite of it (which almost resulted in a choking fit). “Better?” she asked, through the mouthful, spraying crumbs.
Aspazija snickered and made exaggerated ew faces in return. “A little. Maybe not such a huge mouthful next time, eh?”
With the aid of a good half a glass of water, Blink finally swallowed the uncomfortable bolus. “You’re turning me into a walking stereotype,” she griped, turning her supper end over end in her hands. “Eat untidily, grunt, slouch, scratch my aft. Why do I have to be so obnoxious? I met a lot of spurs on my travels that were just as delicate as I am at the moment. Nobody says a spur has to be the pinnacle of troglodyte masculinity.”
“Bee-… if you were a spur, I’d agree with you. You could be as soft and fluffy and effeminate as you wanted, because it wouldn’t matter if they did challenge you to prove who you were.” Rae covered his face. “You’re trying to avoid raising suspicion, not making a political statement! If you don’t get the hang of it here, now, in safety, no-one will fall for it when you’re out there on your own-”
“No-one’s going to fall for it anyway, because it’s so exaggerated! Nobody behaves like this! What I am is immediately obvious, to anyone with even half a functioning brain cell-!”
“Paksha, anyone would think we’d ask you to go up on stage and convince every politician on Tejiva. All you need to do is fly under the radar, for a little while. Don’t raise suspicion - don’t go throwing yourself into a group of spurs and trying to prove who you are – and you’ll be all right.
Blink glared at him, silently.
He stared her out. “I’m not asking you to put yourself in danger because I find the idea amusing, and you know that,” he said, softly. “I know you’re going to put yourself in danger, no matter what I say, because it’s who you are. I – we – just really want to try and help you make the best of a rotten situation, and your gender is the part of you that puts you most at risk.”
At last, Blink let her gaze drop to her lap, and muttered something that could (with a little imagination) have been an apology.
“You know we’d both come with you, if we could.” Aspazija covered Blink’s fingers with her own, and squeezed, gently. “But we’ll probably stay quarantined for the rest of our lives. I might have survived heff but I’m still infectious, and if not for Sadie’s ‘magic’, Rae would turn into a horrible snarling plague carrier.”
“But we’ll be with you in spirit.” Rae let his hand join the pile. “And we want to know you that when you finally head off, it’s with the best chance possible of success.”
Blink lay awake, staring at the ceiling, for a very long time. She still felt bad for snapping at her friends, even though they’d reassured her that they weren’t hurt, and understood her frustration. (And if they’d had any idea where she was going, they’d have got to teaching her sooner.)
Her chest still ached, subtly, in spite of Aspazija’s assurances that the bindings wouldn’t damage her so long as she remembered not to wear them all the time, and hey, as soon as they found Frond, she’d get her real body back, right? But she felt… exhausted. Permanently out of breath, like her lungs had forgotten how to work. Breathing carefully, to avoid stirring the discomfort around her ribs. Hopefully she’d get the hang of it soon.
“Blink?” A voice said, very close to her ear.
Blink startled and sat bolt upright, clutching her sheet to her chest. “What-… what?” Her breath caught in her throat. “Dash?”
The small blue figure – laima-sized and wingless, but otherwise completely identical to her friend – did a little twirl. “Hey. Like it?”
“What-?! This-this place is cursed.” Blink managed a strange, helpless little noise of dismay. “Am I dreaming? I’ve got to be asleep. There’s no way it can have happened a second time. There’s no way-! Oh, mercy-”
“Bee, Bee-… it’s all right!” Skydash laughed. “I didn’t mean to make you jump, I’m sorry. I’ve hijacked the Institute’s holographic projection system.”
For several heartbeats, Blink just stared, dumbly. “…a hologram?” she managed, at last.
“That’s right. I saw you talking to the Interface, earlier, and extrapolated that must be what she was. It got me thinking! Normally, I can only transmit my holoform as far as I can physically see, and I wanted to see if my system was compatible with the Institute – and by that token, with other Coalition computers. Hold out your hand?”
Blink obediently held out her arm, and Skydash waved her hand clean through it.
“You see?”
Still half wondering if she was asleep, Blink stared at their hands for several more seconds, trying to touch their fingers together. There wasn’t even the smallest flicker of resistance – no sensation, nothing. She still hadn’t got used to it from the Interface, let alone her friend.
“Since we don’t really worry about holoforms very much at home, I never realised how useful they could be. Makes it so much easier to interact with other biological creatures. I’m not just a disembodied voice over a speaker, I’m a physical being – as good as – with body language.” Skydash ‘sat’ on the end of Blink’s bed – a strangely prim posture for a massless body that didn’t disturb the bedsheets. “I thought I ought to get some practice in. It’s hard not to sit in the bed.”
Blink smiled. “You’re doing all right so far. It’s a good idea, too. I just hope more places will have emitters that you can use.”
“If they don’t? At least I can hijack the rest of the computer.” Skydash smirked, naughtily, and tapped her nose. “Seriously, though? Computers here speak an unfamiliar language, and I’ll never know when I might need to talk to them. I should at least start to figure it out while I have the chance, since I doubt the standard interfaces will be designed with someone my size in mind.”
Blink’s lips compressed down to a serious line. “It was fairly tight for me, and I was a little smaller than you. Trying to fit into a communications booth was not fun.” She stifled a yawn, then snuggled down in the corner of her bunk, propped up in the pillows.
“I suppose at least logic is logic, no matter where you come from, right? I might not be able to speak laima, but if I can tell ‘on’ from ‘off’, at least I can get the basics down.”
Blink nodded, carefully. “Different species have their own systems, planetside, but the Institute uses Standard as it’s a mixed colonial computing environment. Same will be true of other Coalition vessels, like hibernacula etc.” She forced a smile. “I suppose you could call it, cross browser compatibility?”
“Something like that.” Skydash chuckled. “I checked the Institute data-library already. From what I can see, the same language is in use all across this sector of the galaxy. So long as I can speak it, we shouldn’t have any problems. While you’re out and about, looking for physical clues of Frond’s people, I can hit the datanet and look for other clues. Newspaper reports and things.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I probably shouldn’t admit, I’m a little excited to see all these new cultures. I didn’t really get the chance to see much, when I was travelling – I barely landed, except for a little fuel…”
Skydash chattered on for a few more minutes, noticing that Blink’s responses grew subtler and subtler until she didn’t get a response at all. She focused her attention more tightly on the fessine, dipping deeper into the computer and firing up a few more senses.
Blink’s eyes had closed, and she’d slumped even further into that barely comfortable posture against the corner of her bunk. Her long neck would have a painful crick in it, come morning. Her breathing had evened out, picking up a funny little nasal rasp that didn’t seem to mean anything.
“Bee?” Skydash leaned her hologram closer. “Are you all right?”
No response, except for those subtle, nasal gurgles. Hm. ‘Sleep’ was something Skydash was aware that organic creatures did, but still didn’t have much of a frame of reference for. She’d assumed it was just like recharging and defragmenting? Organics generally retired to somewhere comfortable to let their muscles reset, and Blink didn’t look remotely comfortable, but maybe laima didn’t have to be?
Skydash dipped into the system and scanned the small body for vital signs – pulse normal, oxygen saturations good, respiration rate low but not out of range. The subtle electrical activity in her brain had dimmed right down, too. Whatever she was doing, she certainly wasn’t online.
“Goodnight, spark,” she murmured, softly, to avoid waking her back up. “See you in the morning. Sleep well.”
