Byr asked Dajeil to come visit her, but she would not. Eventually, a week later, Byr was able to get out of bed by herself and walk around. A pair of drones fussed at her side.
Across her belly, the scar was already starting to fade.
Byr already knew her recovery would be complete. Whether Dajeil had actually intended murder or just some insane abortion, she didn’t know.
Looking down into herself, in a light trance to further judge the extent of the damage that had been done and was now diligently repairing itself, Byr noted that her body had come to the decision, apparently on its own accord, while she’d been unconscious, to become male again. She let the decision hold.
Byr walked out of the tower that day with one hand still held over the wide scar in her abdomen. She discovered Dajeil sitting cross-legged and big-bellied on the egg-round stones a few metres up from the surf line.
The sound of the stones sliding under Byr’s unsteady feet brought Dajeil out of her reverie. She looked round at Byr, then away again, out to sea. They sat together.
“I’m sorry,” Dajeil said.
“So am I.”
“Did I kill it?”
Byr had to think for a moment. Then she realised. She meant the fetus.
“Yes,” Byr said. “Yes, it’s gone.”
Dajeil lowered her head. She would not talk again.
Byr left with the Unacceptable Behaviour a week later. Dajeil had told her, through one of the tower’s drones, that she would not be having the baby in a week, as expected. She would halt its development. For a while. Until she knew her own mind again. Until she felt ready for it. She didn’t know how long the wait would be. A few months; a year, maybe. The unborn child would be safe and unharmed, just waiting, until then. When she did give birth, the tower and its drones would be able to look after her. She did not expect Byr to stay. They had done most of the work they had set out to do. It might be best if Byr left. Sorry was not remotely enough, but it was all there was to say. She would let Byr know when the child was born. They would meet again then, if she wanted, if he wanted.
Contact was never told what had happened. Byr claimed a bizarre accident had happened at sea to make her lose the fetus; a predator fish attacking; near death and saved by Dajeil… They seemed well enough pleased with what she and Dajeil had done and accepted Byr’s leaving early. The ‘Ktik were a highly promising species, hungry for advancement; Telaturier was in for some big-time development.
Genar-Hofoen became male again. One day, going through some old clothes, he found the little figurine of Dajeil the old ‘Ktik had carved. He sent it back to Dajeil. He didn’t know if she received it or not. Still on the Unacceptable Behaviour, he fathered a child by Aist. A Contact appointment a few months afterwards took him aboard the GSV Quietly Confident. One of the ship’s avatars — the same one he had slept with — gave him a very hard time for leaving Dajeil; they shouted at each other.
To his knowledge, the Quietly Confident subsequently blocked at least one request he put in for a post he wanted.
Over two years after he had left Telaturier he heard that Dajeil, still pregnant, had requested to be Stored. The place was becoming busy, and a whole new city was growing up round their old tower, which was going to become a museum. Later still he heard that she was not Stored after all, but had been picked up by the GSV turned Eccentric which had once been called the Quietly Confident, and which was now called the Sleeper Service.
XIII
— Don’t do this!
— I am determined.
— Well, at least let me get my avatar off!
— Take it.
— Thank you; beginning Displace sequence, the Fate Amenable To Change sent to the Appeal To Reason, and then continued: ~ Please; don’t risk this.
— I am risking only the drone; in cognizance of your concerns I shall not remain in contact with it in-flight.
— And if it returns apparently unharmed, what will you do then?
— Take every reasonable precaution, including a stepped-intellect-level throttled datastream-squirt approach, a—
— Sorry to interrupt, but don’t tell me any more, in case our friend is listening in. I appreciate the lengths you are prepared to go to try and ensure you remain free from contamination, but surely the point is that at any stage what you will find, or start to find, will look like the most valuable and interesting data available, and any intellectual restructuring suggested will look unambiguously like the most brilliant up-grade. You will be taken before you know it; indeed, you will cease to be in a sense, unless your own automatic systems attempt to prevent the take-over, and that will surely lead to conflict.
— I shall resist ingesting any data requiring or suggesting either intellect restructuring or mimetic redrafting.
— That may not be enough. Nothing may be enough.
— You are overly cautious, cousin, sent the Sober Counsel. ~ We are the Zetetic Elench. We have ways of dealing with such matters. Our experience is not without benefit, especially once we are fore-warned.
— And I am of the Culture, and I hate to see such risks being taken. Are you sure you have the full agreement of your human crews concerning such a foolhardy attempt at contact?
— You know we have; your avatar sat in on the discussions, sent the Appeal To Reason.
— That was two days ago, the Fate Amenable To Change pointed out. ~ You have just given a two-second launch notice; at least hold off long enough to carry out a poll of your humans and sentient drones and so ensure that they still agree with your proposed course of action now that the business is coming to a head. After all, another few minutes or so is not going to make much difference, is it? Think; I beg you. You know humans as well as I do; things can take a while to sink in with them. Perhaps some have only now finished thinking about the matter and have altered their position on it. Please, as a favour, hold back a few minutes.
— Very well. Reluctantly, but very well.
The Appeal To Reason stopped the drone’s launch countdown before a hundredth of a second had elapsed. The Fate Amenable To Change stood down its Displacer and left its avatar aboard.
It all made little difference. The Fate Amenable To Change had secretly been upgrading its effectors over the past couple of days and had intended attempting to carry out its own subtle jeopardising of any drones dispatched towards the Excession, but it was not to have the chance. Even while the hurriedly called vote was taking place on board the Appeal To Reason, the Fate received a message from another craft.
xExplorer Ship Break Even (Zetetic Elench, Stargazer, 5th)
oGCU Fate Amenable To Change (Culture)
Greetings. Please be advised I and my sister craft the Within Reason and Long View are also in attendance, just out of your primary scanner range. We have reconfigured to an Extreme Offence back-up form and shall soon be joined by the two remaining ships of our fleet, similarly recast. We would hope that you do not intend any interference with the plan our sister craft Appeal To Reason intends to effect.