WHO: Seivarden & Breq WHAT: Seivarden arrives! WHEN: Tuesday night, July 10 WHERE: Athoek Station WARNINGS: Brief mention of past drug addiction
Seivarden had been having such a good night. The establishment of the Provisional Republic of Two Systems was already underway, and although there was still much uncertainty about the treaty and there would absolutely be more fighting, it was relatively peaceful for the moment. Seivarden’s emotions were relatively stable, thanks to Medical, and Ekalu had forgiven her, which was quite possibly the best part of all. Certainly the most pleasurable.
But it didn’t last. She had only just relaxed against Ekalu to catch her breath -- not in the most comfortable position, since they were in a storage compartment -- when a bright light appeared above her head, a swirling portal. Seivarden tried futilely not to be pulled into it, but it stole her away. Ekalu seemed not to even have noticed, which was the most distressing part, and then the portal closed around Seivarden and she couldn’t see anything else.
Then, suddenly, it spat her out. She stumbled forward, naked, into an unfamiliar room. “Ship?” Seivarden asked, aloud, and simultaneously via her communication implants. When there was no immediate answer, she asked, “Station?”
It obviously wasn’t Mercy of Kalr or Athoek Station, but she still expected -- hoped -- that this building had an AI. Instead, she was approached by a person. Seivarden had a few moments of despair and panic at the prospect of being thrown into another completely new and foreign situation, with no one she knew, no one she could understand -- and then Breq’s voice sounded in her ear, and she felt weak with relief. The rest of it was easy to handle after that -- weird, and awkward, but easy, because she was not alone in this strange world, and the most important person was here with her.
Steve gave her gloves and clothes, and the person named Michael that Breq had mentioned did indeed call a ride for her. So, shortly enough, Seivarden found herself in a car being driven to the outside of the town. She stared out the window, barely able to believe that she was looking at Earth. The origin planet of humans, so ancient that it had faded into obscurity. It was a relief to see Station, even if it was strange to see it embedded in the planet rather than floating above it, and even more of a relief to see Breq standing outside it, waiting for her.
Seivarden got out of the car, forgetting to be self-conscious in her strangely colored clothes and gloves, forgetting even that she’d been worried about the reprimand she was expecting next time she saw Breq in private, and grinned, her relief evident.
“Breq!” she said, in greeting. She moved closer, spreading her hands apart, low, in a tentative offering of a hug. Even if a reprimand was coming, Breq had been here alone with Station, with nothing and no one else familiar. Seivarden knew her ship; impossibly strong as she was, it had to have been lonely.
--
The car reversed and made its way to leave before Seivarden had crossed the distance between them. Breq waited for her to get close because her right hip was bothering her, and her left leg was not feeling terribly better in its prosthetic. The hug was not surprising, as soon as it happened, as soon as it was coming. Ship was not here to make any requests of Seivarden, to tell her what Breq was wanting, whether Breq said anything about it or not. But Seivarden was still, likely, doing it for her.
Her arms wrapped around Seivarden, and she felt Seivarden’s wrap around her. For a moment, Breq waited for the sensation of the weight of her arms around Seivarden, the way her head leaned against Seivarden’s shoulder. But none of that came. Ship was still not here, and Breq could not reach for any of Seivarden’s internals. It was incomplete.
She ended the hug more quickly for that, releasing Seivarden and motioning back toward the way inside. Station could still see them, just outside as they were. But it was safer inside, the climate better controlled at least. They would track some dust in, but the floors hadn’t been cleaned at all near here. It would hardly stand out. “No wonder you were worried what Ekalu would think,” Breq said when they were inside.
--
It was a relief to be here, to see them both, and to be speaking Radchaai again, instead of the strange, ancient, gendered language that somehow Seivarden understood, yet still had trouble wrapping her mind around. She followed Breq willingly into the Station, which was comfortingly familiar. She pressed her hand briefly against the console and silently greeted Station, warmly. She knew Station less well than Breq or Mercy of Kalr, but was already very fond of her.
To Breq, she answered, a little embarrassed, “She didn’t seem to notice the portal, or that it pulled me away. I didn’t want her to think I left.” She paused. “Hopefully the theory is right, and I’m still there, too.”
--
Breq had not entirely negotiated where to stay in Station as the lone resident. Their previous stretch of corridor had been something of a compromise during conversation. But Station could tell Breq’s leg was bothering her, just from the way she walked, and tried to suggest somewhere more comfortable. There were plenty of beds in Station. She wasn’t about to sleep just yet, and all their belongings were still in the hallway, and they could still have tea.
It was still something of a walk away, so their walk continued. “How would she have thought you left?” Breq asked. “There’s only one door to the supply closet, and it was guarded.” Seivarden had no ability to simply disappear like that, and in all the times Seivarden and Ekalu had been to bed, only duty had made one of them leave immediately afterward. Either Ekalu was concerned about the fact Seivarden had disappeared and, if so, were unable to be located by Ship or Station, or there was nothing, on that front, to be concerned about. Breq doubted Ekalu would blame Seivarden for being abducted.
--
“I don’t know,” Seivarden answered honestly. An inexplicable disappearance would be more worrying than anything, and if Ekalu were here to hear the explanation, it did seem a forgivable one. It just bothered Seivarden to think that her lover might wake up alone, which wasn’t how the night was supposed to end. And it didn’t feel very good, on this end, to have been pulled away from that herself. She missed Ekalu already, even more for the fact that she’d just been thinking she might not have to miss Ekalu any longer.
And then her mind caught up to the amount of detail Breq had put into that sentence, and she asked, amused, “Were you watching?”
--
Ekalu was good for Seivarden. Conversely, her absence, with Seivarden’s appearance, was a source of stress for her. It was for reasons like that that Breq had not hoped for Seivarden’s appearance. As much as it eased for Breq it made worse for her. Station needed a lot, but Breq had been finding the means to help Station as much as possible, could have handled doing it all. The problem had kept Breq occupied for most of the time she had been here. She would have been able to handle being here alone but for Station.
The question felt off. Breq had watched them politicking, in one of the tea shops, had reached for what was people were thinking about all this and how they were expressing themselves. Uran had spoken to her for the Undergarden. But others would have preferred talking with Seivarden or Ekalu. What that led to, what Mercy of Kalr had shared, to Breq’s relief along with others’, that had been a part of how things were going. “Not at any length,” Breq replied. She didn’t need to see everything, which surely would have made Ekalu uncomfortable. There was a balance to be struck.
“I doubt that you were the only to use that closet recently,” Breq said, without the confidence that would have come had they been talking about Ship, where Breq always could have known when that was happening and between whom. “Station was extremely crowded.” Everywhere was hard up, and many people slept on shifts, quarters being shared.
Everyone’s absence was felt that much stronger now. Other people should have been walking down the concourse. They should have been communicating via Ship, so it was a private conversation. Instead they passed the entrance to the temple to Amaat, the four emanations showing, as empty as the rest of Station.
--
Seivarden snorted, still entirely amused. “Well, the crates didn’t offer much privacy.”
She didn’t speak on it any further, because she too could not help but notice the absence of crowds as they moved through the concourse. Everything about this was all wrong; everything except for the fact that she was still standing at Breq’s side. She could handle just about anything that way. The absence of people wouldn’t necessarily have bothered her, except that she knew it would bother both Breq and Station.
After a moment of considering that, she asked aloud, “Is there a way for us to be directly connected to Station? If you both want that, of course.”
She didn’t know how it felt, not really, to be a ship missing its ancillaries or a station missing its inhabitants. But it had been comforting for her, too, to have Ship inside her head, and by extension Breq, reading all her internal data. To know that she was never really alone.
--
Breq did not reply right away. She and Station had already discussed it to some degree. Sometimes Breq did leave, did need to leave, Station. And trackers were not that much data, not on a planet. Tumbleweed was never outside Station’s range of communications, but there were no sensors there, none of Station’s anyway. Breq was wired as an ancillary, was wired to connect with Mercy of Kalr. But it still took modifications, things Breq couldn’t do to herself, things Station couldn’t do for her.
It was only possible because Seivarden was there. “There’s a way,” Breq replied. At the same time, Station replied, in an even voice, “There is no Medic here.” Breq motioned ambivalence. “I have been present for all my officers being connected,” she replied, “But I have never performed the procedure myself. That wasn’t needed.” It was not entirely risk free, even with Station’s help. And Seivarden had even less experience than Breq.
Most citizens on Aethok Station had not chosen to have themselves connected so intimately with Station. But Station came to know them so well that such differences mattered most in the Undergarden, where Station was blind. And to finish repairs, both Breq and Seivarden would need to go there. “I can perform it on you,” Breq replied, “And you would have to perform it on me. With Station’s help.” Because for all the concern that did not come through in Station’s voice, Breq knew Station wanted it just as badly.
--
Seivarden blew out a long breath. “Between the two of you, you know all the steps? You can tell me exactly how?”
She was not worried about the prospect of Breq working on her own implants. She had no doubt that, whether she’d done it before or not, Breq would manage it. The prospect of working on Breq’s implants was far more nerve-wracking, because messing something up could cause serious brain damage. And unfortunately, Seivarden had a track record for messing things up.
She looked directly at Breq. “You sure you trust me to do that?”
--
“Yes,” Station said in a neutral tone, a slight pause. “I know the steps. I can tell you exactly what to do.”
Breq gave a nod. “Thank you, Cousin,” she said. She knew Station still had apprehensions. Without Station’s help, no one would be able to modify Breq’s implants. There would be no point in trying. Breq was not inclined toward working on Seivarden without Station’s help either. But it was harder, in some ways, to have Seivarden here and not be able to reach for her, than it had been the few days without her. It was harder, leaving Station, without Station being able to track more than Breq’s location.
That question was a difficult one. Medic, most any doctor, would have been better trained to help Breq. Though Breq would sooner let Seivarden mess with her implants blind than let Fosyf’s doctor treat her. But the only doctor’s here were from so far in the distant past that they were not familiar with implants at all. At least Seivarden knew what they should be like, what it was like to have them. And Breq had damaged her implants and hidden them, so as to return to the Radch undetected. She doubted it would go worse than that.
“With Station’s help,” Breq said. She held Seivarden’s eye. “I want you to do it.” Not that instant, not that moment. Breq wanted Seivarden rested and prepared, something a first day in a new and foreign location was unlikely to give anyone.
--
Seivarden swallowed, but did not look away. She straightened her shoulders a fraction before responding. “Yes, sir.”
It wasn’t a command, exactly, but it still felt somewhat like one. If anything, it held even more weight than an order from Breq given as Fleet Captain. It was not just the risk to Breq’s brain, but also her ability to connect to Station -- and Seivarden -- in a way that would make her feel more like the ship she’d once been. A way that could make up just a little bit for everything she’d lost.
--
Breq nodded. She still felt tight inside, still tried to reach to Mercy of Kalr, for Ship, for Seivarden. She could guess that Seivarden saw the statement as something like a military order, at least emotionally, despite it not being one. Whatever shamble and illusion of a fleet Breq had been Fleet Captain over at Athoek, at their Provisional Republic of Two Systems, it was not even the thinnest shred of credit to it. But Breq didn’t comment on it, perhaps wanted it too much to do so. If Station hazarded such a guess from what data temperature and the like provided, she said nothing.
They reached the end of a corridor. Any of the nearby doors opened to housing that contained actual bunks. In fact bunks were about all they contained. But Breq moved to sit on a crate covered in a blanket. It was time she sat. “We should rest, for now,” Breq said. “Arrival is trying.” Whether it was all the people not wearing gloves, not wearing gloves herself, or the misfortunate timing, Breq thought Seivarden could use something that felt more like home.
“Your clothes are in that corner,” Breq said, “And there is tea in the enamel flask.” She hadn’t bothered to use anything nicer for just herself.
--
“Tea,” Seivarden said, with no small amount of relief and gladness. “Oh, thank Amaat, I’m so glad we still have proper tea here.”
Even if they had to ration it, it was something. Seivarden was well aware that planets outside the Radch were unlikely to have anything even close to the kind of tea she was used to. She moved to pick up the flask, poured herself a bowl, and then settled down on the floor near the crate that Breq had chosen, leaning against the wall. She cradled the bowl in her hands and took a sip.
The taste of it made her feel like everything might be alright. Especially combined with the familiar feeling of Station’s wall at her back, Breq camped out on one of her crates nearby. Because of course, even when the lodgings here were empty, they were still going to be staying in the same corridor, which Seivarden privately found both hilarious and endearing. It was good to know that she had clothes here, too, and hopefully proper gloves. The shirt and pants that had been provided were not terrible make, more comfortable but perhaps less durable than the standard clothing given out at Radchaai supply offices, but the gloves were a very uncomfortable, stretchy, unbreathable material. They were still better than bare hands, but still.
--
The tea had the intended effect, which was a better use than Breq simply drinking it herself. It worried others, sometimes, when Breq drank water, especially when situations could be trying. So she had been drinking tea the last few days, as a signal that she was doing all right and Station could be too.
Breq did not comment further on the tea. On the one hand Seivarden would be pleasantly surprised at how much tea Station had due to the gates having been closed and the volume of tea building up. It was so much more convenient to sell the tea quickly to have it on Station read to go, even if it were more expensive to get space on a station. On the other, there would be no more tea, not what Seivarden thought of as tea. Nothing produced on Earth would taste quite right to her. So whenever it was gone, it was gone. Eventually, it would become a problem. When depended on how many more people showed up, all expecting tea.
“Once we have taken care of Station, we can look into more permanent housing,” Breq said. It did not hurt to give people a little more time to show up. So that what housing they took did not steal someone’s assignment. There was no other way to get a bed. Even the guest quarters had been assigned with the overcrowding. Those were where Breq would look. Not the governor’s house or Fosyf Denche’s apartments, not apartments of status Breq had never had. She wasn’t looked for that status now.
--
Seivarden shrugged, offering a slight smile. “Works for me.”
She had been staying here the last few days, after failing her mission to kill Anaander Mianaai, and this corridor suited her just fine. A soldier’s life was not luxurious, and Seivarden’s years outside the Radch had been even less so. Truly, she was just glad to be somewhere familiar, with people that knew her. Breq topped the list of people she would have chosen to be stuck somewhere with, and Station was very high on that list, too. They were not technically people, if you only considered humans ‘people’, but they were better people than humans were, so far as Seivarden was concerned.
“How much of Station is here? What can I do?”
--
When housing had been more difficult to obtain, when they had been living in the corridor after the Undergarden got damaged, Breq had considered it something of a priority - if not the top priority - to see to their housing or else they would never get anything better. But now that it was all available, it was not a priority anymore. It would still be there after the work got done.
“The gardens, the Undergarden, the main concourse, hydroponics,” Breq replied. Much was contained in each of those, from a lake to two temples to nearly all the Y’Chana population, had it been here. Few people on Station had talked about hydroponics. But not everything Horticulture grew was visually appealing.
“Station’s core, as well,” Breq added. “But that is surrounded by rock. It will not be so easily accessed.” She smiled at that, almost a smirk. It was possible to dig, certainly, even in these archaic times. But that could be noticed and something done about it.
She thought about the question. “The Undergarden still needs to be repaired. It is no longer vacuum work. But it leaves much to be desired. We still have the work orders that had been written, easy guidance. And the supplies provided for it. Repairs. Cleaning. Not so different than you are familiar with.” Breq shrugged. It was work, and much of it was dull, physical labor. But it still took attention to detail. And it made Station feel better. “I have already started looking for horticulturists, to help with the Gardens.” That went beyond either of them. Breq tried not to miss Basnaaid. Failed. Settled for the fact she missed a great many people, but she had been missing herself long enough. There was no feeling whole possible.
--
“The most important things, it seems,” Seivarden said. A moment later she wondered if that was rude to Station, and added, “Though of course it would be best to have all of you, Station. And your people.”
She looked down at her bowl of tea, unsure about whether she should feel contrite about that. But even if she shouldn’t, the mention of the repairs to the Undergarden got under her skin. There was no one here to offer her kef, but the memory of it was enough. She sipped her tea before answering, trying to steady herself. “Right. I remember… what needed to be done there. Some of it, at least.”
--
Seivarden’s hands stayed wrapped around the bowl of tea, the rest of her arms not moving to cross, so held in place. Breq could not tell whether that impulse had come. She had not meant to remind Seivarden of that difficulty. They no longer had the arrack which had been packed among their belongings here. No kef had been found so far, but Breq would keep a closer eye out to remove it, should it be discovered.
“It will be easier now, in some respects,” Breq commented. Even if in vacuum it was easier to reach each spot, just floating up to it. “Etrepa and Bo made a good deal of progress since we returned to Station. Level one is livable. It just lacks some of the sensors that were due to be set.” Which mattered a great deal to Station. Now that it was easier for people to come to Station, without much notice living so close to Station as they were, Breq, more than ever, did not want to leave Station blind anywhere. They could leave the housing alone, until someone lived there, so their neighbors would not be aggrieved upon arriving and seeing their housing.
The extra hands would make it go quicker. Seivarden could do the repairs pointed out to her, and Breq could inspect anything Station couldn’t see. “Once things are repaired, cleaned up, I thought we might invite some people, on a case by case basis, to work or, should our neighbors really not join us here, to live here. There is plenty of space on on the concourse,” Breq said flatly.
--
Seivarden did not try to cross her arms. She was not so much tempted by the idea of the drug as she was ashamed of having been tempted by it in the recent past. Breq definitely knew, but she didn’t mention it, for which Seivarden was grateful. She inhaled, exhaled, counted her breaths, until the moment passed.
“We should definitely get those sensors installed,” she agreed. She was unable to fully appreciate what it would feel like to be a Station with blind spots, but she had a strong appreciation for Station, and anything that made her feel better was something that Seivarden was willing to do. She could handle the shameful memories in order to do that. “The people here are… interesting. Have you met many of them already?”
--
It was something Breq had long wanted to fix for Station, something Station had suffered as a long standing hurt. It was both better and worse without people going there in such numbers now. Station was not missing as much activity but only because its inhabitants were missing. It was not what Breq had lost, what Station was missing. And while she counted as one of station’s people, she could not make up for the loss. Not readily, not easily.
Breq considered the people who had helped, the many different people she had spoken to over the network and some of those in person. “A few of them,” Breq replied. “Mostly people here like we are… displaced.” She shrugged. “I have not truly ascertained what people from this Earth at this time are like.” There were others, with AIs or building them, people who had suffered injustice, about which Breq could do nothing, not being in the right place. Or almost nothing.
“Station’s repairs have moved along quicker than I could have done alone,” Breq added, her hands showing they were empty, “even though we cannot pay them.” She would remember.
--
Seivarden considered that. “So they’ve been helpful and friendly so far?”
That was a good sign. Of course, there were many reasons why people could be friendly, and not all of them were good. Especially people who were willing to do work for no pay; they might, perhaps, be seeking some kind of favor. But since this was a totally new culture, Seivarden wasn’t sure she could guess at what kind of favor that would be. It seemed unlikely that Earthlings would have the same concept of clientage that Radchaai did, but the general idea behind it might hold. All people needed allies of some variety.
She took another sip from her tea, and smiled. “So, first priority is working on Station, and then… follow the old strategy? Go to the bottom of the heap, find out where the trouble is, then get right into the middle of it?”
--
Breq made a positive but ambivalent motion with her hands. The vast majority of people had not responded one way or the other, and she had not yet discovered what this place was like. Station’s immediate needs had come first. Of those that responded, most of them had been helpful; a couple had been alarming.
They would have a moderately different life here. Station had few residents, and that would be something to keep in mind, always. Stations were meant to be used, not to be private palaces for the elite few, fourteen exceptions notwithstanding. Even those were half open to the public and very highly populated. Whether they paid money or came to other arrangements, they would need the help, short of Station’s horticulturists and a fair number of mechanically minded residents appearing. Seivarden’s appearance did not instill any confidence that someone else would come.
“I have a feeling there may be a few heaps around here,” Breq commented with a smile. Which amounted to a confirmation. Breq felt uncomfortable doing anything less.