“What’s happened?” Qalu was asking. “Are you all right?”
Definitely not, Helix thought.
Aevi launched into a rapid explanation, expressing support for the piece of wreckage that Helix still clutched while also requesting that all shiny objects be received in double quantities henceforth. At the end of the Pherzul’s monologue, Qalu made a quiet sound, head tendrils quivering. Amusement, and oh, it was lovely. She shone with that emotion, and he stared at her, transfixed.
“Perhaps,” said Qalu, but she didn’t get to finish her sentence.
“Hello, my precious daughter,” an all-too familiar voice called.
Qalu froze. Foremother.
“Inatol is here. We’ll talk more later!” Aevi hissed and dashed off to hide.
Then it got worse, as three more charming, musical voices added their greetings. Normally, her mothers notified her before visiting her domicile, but evidently, Foremother had convinced the rest that some oversight was required. I hoped to have more time. But there would be no putting them off, not when she’d already demurred once. Now, they would interrogate Helix about his antecedents and his worthy qualities, and she had no notion if he was ready for this first hurdle.
I didn’t teach him about proper etiquette. I didn’t cover any of the pertinent—
To her surprise, Helix assumed the proper posture on his own and executed a credible respect obeisance on his own with limbs tucked and head tendrils moving the appropriate degree. When he straightened, he said, “Please accept my apologies for not offering my greetings earlier. I forgot myself in Qalu’s company.”
Though he couldn’t mean it, that was such a good impression of the fondness she’d requested that she fluttered a bit. All over. And Foremother caught the response, of course she did, and that resulted in a slight softening of expression. No progenitor could remain stern when someone professed partiality for their child.
“We quite understand,” she said briskly. “Qalu, will you perform the introductions or must I?”
Assuredly not.
As the host for this impromptu gathering, the onus for such tasks fell to Qalu. “Mothers, this is Helix…” Here, she paused, wondering what to say precisely. “My companion. Helix, I present Inatol, Solsan, Khrelasa, and Beh-latan, my maternal units.”
She wondered what he made of their family. Her mothers varied a fair amount in size and appearance. Inatol was the largest with stature to match her imposing personality, along with russet skin and shining copper scales. Beh-latan was the smallest, slight and delicate, glowing pink with scales in a deeper coral hue, imbued with a temperament attuned to peacemaking. Both Solsan and Khrelasa shared their build size with Qalu, closer to average, and they all ranged in earth tones, outward to bronze and gold. Though all four had contributed genetic material for Qalu’s birth, she resembled Solsan the most, down to her alt-mother’s reserved manner.
They all greeted Helix in turn, offered reciprocal respect and then settled in the common space, as if prepared for a long visit. Qalu swore silently. She couldn’t prevail on her alt-mothers to cut this encounter short, it seemed.
“Inatol has said that you’re an off-worlder,” said Khrelasa. “It’s fascinating; we’ve never met anyone from the outpost. Do tell us about Titan V.”
Helix shot her a questioning look, as if asking what he ought to say. Neither of them had any clue what life on Titan V was like and lies could be uncovered readily.
Then the answer occurred to her and it would save them both. “No, I told her not to forget that was a possibility. I never said that was where Helix is from. His family left with a yen to explore when he was small, and they’ve lived in many interesting locales.”
“Ah!” Surprisingly, that story seemed to spark Solsan’s imagination. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to travel. You must have tremendous stories.”
Though it was rare for family groups to leave Tiralan, it did happen; they usually returned when it was time for the next generation to be born. Perhaps her mothers would accept that was why Helix had “returned,” after meeting Qalu on the matching service. This fiction was certainly more manageable than inventing a life for him on Titan V, and oh, what if her mothers had wanted to visit? She shuddered, imagining the magnitude of that potential calamity. Relaxing a little, Qalu sat quiet while Helix spoke about Barath with the authority of personal experience.
“How incredible,” Beh-latan said. “Do they truly compete for the privilege of forming family units, for procreative rights?”
“Barbaric,” Inatol snapped.
“Is that not the—”
Qalu spoke over the top of the question, as Helix should know that there was no Choosing on Tiralan, if he had been reared by a proper family. “I’ve read a little about the practice, and it seems that it began when the world was desperately overpopulated and short of resources. There came a very bleak time on Barath, near cataclysm, when they nearly died out, so now they need to repopulate, but they want the best candidates to do so.” Or at least, that was what she had gleaned from the ’net. Curiosity had prompted her to research the planet where Helix lived before, but it seemed to be a fortuitous happenstance, as her mothers were diverted from interrogating Helix to arguing about Barath.
“Dreadful.” Solsan radiated deep disapproval, and Khrelasa seemed to agree, judging by her posture.
“That’s eugenics,” Inatol declared in a furious tone. “The idea of ‘best’ is so subjective, and it casts doubt on the rights of—”
“We didn’t come to quarrel,” Beh-latan said softly, resting a tender hand on Inatol’s forelimb. “And Qalu is certainly not defending this Choosing.”
Bel’s Burning Sack. For once, she wished her gentle alt-mother didn’t always want to keep the peace. Because now Inatol remembered that she was off topic, focusing on Helix with renewed intensity. “True. And since this one is still searching for a partner, we can assume Helix has not participated in such a competition.”
“When I was on Barath,” Helix said slowly, “it never occurred to me to ask these questions, but I believe you are correct. There should be an alternate means of obtaining such privileges.”
You dear genius. Qalu wished she could touch him to convey her appreciation for such a brilliant gambit. He directed the conversation with such finesse that Inatol didn’t seem to realize she had been deflected, or that they were once again discussing Barath customs instead of Helix’s personal situation.
“Education,” Khrelasa suggested. “Here on Tiralan, we’re required to take several courses to ensure we’re ready to take responsibility for another life.”
Beh-latan nodded. “Nurturing, psychology, emotional support, conflict mediation, appropriate discipline, and more. There’s also a unit for forming healthy love groups and division of domestic labor.”
“You hated that class,” Solsan said, gently teasing Inatol.
This…is going well. Better than Qalu had dared hope.
“We’re not here to talk about me,” Inatol said.
Oh no. I celebrated too soon.
Khrelasa took the cue effortlessly. “Yes, we’d love to get to know you better, Helix. First, what pronouns do you use?”