Chapter Text
“Oh, it’s going to be just like the old days!”
Another box dropped onto the bed. Its hasty tape job was no match for Niran’s claw-like fingernails; he shredded through it with ease.
On the far edge of the bed, Satya slouched forward. She’d hardly said a word since her arrival. What was there to say, really? He already knew everything.
Niran hummed to himself as he unpacked Satya’s scant belongings, her entire life crammed into a few blocks of cardboard. “So I’m thinking we can split the bedroom closet down the middle. I’m sure there won’t be much confusion on whose clothes belong to whom.” He unearthed her favorite teal dress and shook it out of its sloppy fold. “Ah, I do so love this color on you.”
Niran’s bedroom was small, meant for one. The walls were lined with bookshelves stacked any which way, interrupted by randomly placed houseplants that grew toward the room’s massive window. A few pieces of artwork hung crookedly from misaligned nails, and a calendar taped to the back of the door had “REPOT ALOE” written on three different days, with an increasing number of underlines each time.
Their dorm had been a shared space. Here, she felt like an intruder.
From her position on the bed, one painting lingered in her sight. A small deer lay dead on a forest floor. The roots of a nearby tree had begun to grow over and around it, moths took rest upon its flesh, and an array of mushrooms bloomed up from its corpse.
He hadn’t seemed too surprised by her arrival the first time. Perhaps he expected to end up like the deer.
“Darling, chin up!” Suddenly one of Niran’s claws was lifting her face. When Satya all but snarled at him, he pulled his hand back. “I know this is a lot to deal with.” His voice softened a bit. “Trust me, I was lost when I first left, too.”
“Lost” didn’t begin to describe her situation. She’d thrown away her entire life.
“And I know you’re probably used to a fancier bed–this was just all I could get on short notice.” Niran fluffed the old cot as best he could. The moment he let go, the comforter sagged paper-flat again. “Of course, once the arcology grants you full citizenship, you’ll have your own living space, but you know how it is with bureaucratic processes. And honestly, it’s probably safer for us to be together anyway, just in case anybody from–”
“Niran,” she finally said.
He blinked at her. “Hm?”
“It seems you have not noticed, but I am somewhat in crisis.”
“Right. Of course.” He folded the flaps of the box closed, then sat down beside her on the bed. It bowed under his weight. “Do you want to talk about it, or...?”
Staring closer at the painting, she realized the deer had pools of still-wet tears under its eyes. It had suffered long. Perhaps death was a touch of relief.
Niran folded one leg over the other, his hands settling neatly in his lap. “All right, then. I suppose I’ll just...sit here in respectful silence.”
Her fingers found a lock of her hair, and she began unconsciously rubbing it. “I am a fugitive,” she mumbled to herself. “A lowly criminal. I stole from the people who raised me. I broke the law. I betrayed them.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Niran raise a hand. Her eyes trailed over to him.
“Are you expecting me to call on you, or something?”
He kept his hand politely raised.
“You can speak, you know.”
Taking a deep breath, Niran said, “Personally, I believe that when injustice is the law-”
“Actually, I changed my mind,” she replied flatly. “Please be quiet.”
Niran fell silent.
The apartments in the arcology’s residence building were all identical in layout, metallic white walls and flooring and windows that spilled sunlight over every inch of their interior. Through that large bedroom window, the ocean glittered on the distant horizon.
The Atlantic Ocean surrounded the tiny manmade island on all sides, kept at bay by nothing more than a simple durovidro seawall. The only way in or out of the island was a ferry that arrived at its single dock once a month. No planes could land safely on such a small speck of earth, and, judging by the emptiness of the ferry when Satya had boarded it, few would want to, anyway.
Was this truly the only place a defector of Vishkar could be safe?
“I know you’re having a crisis,” Niran piped up. Apparently his limit for silence was about sixty seconds. “But may I say something?”
Satya sighed deeply. “Very well.”
He shifted on the bed. She did not look his way, but he could see that he had turned toward her. “I know the circumstances are far from optimal,” he said gently, “but I am so, so happy to have you here.”
Satya pulled herself out of her slouch. Niran was watching her, eyes bright but posture tense, afraid to look too delighted about the situation.
“I do appreciate you taking me in,” she decided to say. “You’re one of the few people in this world I know I can trust.”
Niran may have likened himself to a deer, but when he grinned, it was positively wolfish. “Well, I can’t promise I’m entirely trustworthy. I am a dangerous criminal, after all.”
Satya huffed. “You are only dangerous to golf courses.”
Mischief glimmered in Niran’s eyes as he chortled. “So true. They'll never get rid of all those dandelions.”
When he smiled, she noticed he had tiny laugh lines around his eyes. For all the running from the law and fleeing for his life he’d done over the last decade, he still found time to laugh at the absurdity of it all. That sounded about right for him.
He pulled the latest box over, between the two of them, and went back to unpacking her things for her. Carefully he unboxed the small pile of clothing she’d brought, including her favorite coat (though she was unsure how cold the island got) and the only pair of pants that didn’t feel like sandpaper on her skin, and he set them all gingerly in the middle of the bed. In her mind, Satya wanted to help, but her body was too overwhelmed to do anything but watch.
Perhaps they haven’t noticed I’m gone. The thought played against her will, over and over. Perhaps it isn’t too late to return. I could negotiate on Niran’s behalf. I could push for those internal changes Vishkar so desperately needs. I could...maybe...
Something nestled deep in the box made Niran gasp. His hand shot out, clutching a floppy stuffed dragon. “You still have Shesha!”
Satya reached out and plucked it from his grasp. The scarlet dragon had seen far better days, with patches of missing fluff and a poorly sewn rip where one wing had been. Instinctively her fingers settled on the remaining wing, and she rubbed at its shimmery fabric. “If you’re going to judge my belongings...”
Niran was on his feet in an instant. He pranced across the room, his movements as fluid and elegant as she remembered. He came to a soft halt beside his own bed, where he began to fish for something under the covers.
Satya barely had time to hypothesize what it could have been before Niran held up a patchy, threadbare stuffed rabbit.
“Ah.” Satya relaxed a little.
“You know I’d never judge you anyway, silly.” He tucked the rabbit gently back under his plush comforter. Turned away from her, he added, “Goodness knows you’ve seen the worst of me. I don’t think you could ever come close.”
Satya watched him fix his silly little stuffed animal back into its spot. In some ways, he was much the same as when they’d known each other in college–but in so many more, he was entirely different. No longer was he a spoiled child who whined when the world did not bend to his whims. There was an air of serenity to him now, a sense of peace that stemmed only from a wholehearted acceptance of one’s self.
“Niran,” she said.
He looked up, sheepishly tossing a bit of hair aside to behold her with both eyes.
Allowing her words a warmth she rarely offered the world, Satya said, “I am glad to have you in my life again.”
He perked up, reflecting that warmth right back at her. “You don’t know how much that means to me, Satya.”
It had happened so fast, that shift in resolution. She had spent her entire life following Vishkar’s orders. She’d thought she could follow this one, too. But seeing Niran face to face again, seeing the way the world had both weathered and empowered him, the way he had grown from such a petulant child to a man so full of soft and gentle confidence...he had blossomed. And she could not be the one to trample him.
Steadying herself with a few deep breaths, Satya got up from the bed and scooped her clothes up in her arms. By the time Niran was done fiddling with his bedspread, she’d started dividing up the closet. His soft pinks, purples, and yellows formed a natural divide against her sharp blues and whites. There was no mistaking any of his clothing for hers–though the piece hanging closest to her newly-created side did draw her interest.
She made a small, thoughtful sound as she unhooked the hanger from the closet rack and swung the dress gingerly outward. It was a warm violet color, sleeveless, and long enough that she had to keep her arm high to avoid dragging it on the ground.
“This is...yours?” she asked, trying to keep the question as neutral as possible.
When Niran saw what she was referring to, his easy smile faded. “Technically, yes,” he said. “I’ve never worn it, though.”
Satya held it up to him. It seemed to be tailored precisely to his measurements. “Why not?”
“Because...” He lowered it away from his body. “I don’t know. I haven’t had an opportunity, I guess.”
Satya hooked the hanger back onto the closet rack. “Hm. Well, I would think it would look nice on you. The dark purple would contrast well with that white hair of yours.”
Niran ran a sheepish hand through his hair. “Ah, yes. Dear old Dad’s grey genes. It was such a blessing to look like an old man at twelve.”
Satya set her few articles of clothing on spare hangers, then shut the closet door. “Do you still speak to them?”
Niran barked out a laugh.
“Ah. I am sorry, Niran.”
“Don’t be.” He turned his back on her to resume unpacking her things. “If they ever do contact me again, maybe I’ll send them a picture of me in that dress. Father would just love it.”
Satya wandered back over to the window. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange sparkle over the gentle, rippling waves. On the island below, she could make out residents traversing the unpaved streets on foot or on bicycle. Beyond the main road was a marketplace where residents bartered and mingled, and past even that was the southern shore of the island, dedicated to a field of solar panels and windmills.
This was exactly the kind of place Niran would dream of settling into. Away from a cruel, greedy world, it was an escape into a holdout of fellow innovators, bleeding hearts, and oddballs, all determined to improve the world one tiny island at a time.
Would someone like herself have a place here, though? Did she have anything to offer these people?
Those thoughts trod dangerously into the territory she’d been trying to avoid–mentally, she was not ready to accept that her...break from Vishkar was anything other than that. A vacation. A leave of absence. Sure, they wouldn’t take kindly to her taking leave without permission, and she would probably be fired upon her eventual return, but–
She waved her hands about, trying to physically will the thoughts away. It was too much. She couldn’t process it all at once.
Searching for distraction, her eyes caught that deer art again. It was dead, but a multitude of new life was blossoming from its sacrifice. Perhaps Niran saw himself not just as the deer, but as the mushrooms, plants, and insects growing out of the injustice of its early death.
Perhaps she could be the same.
She cleared her throat softly. From behind her, she heard Niran pause his movements.
“I would like to see more of this place,” she said to the window. “Perhaps tomorrow?”
“Of course.” His voice drew closer to her; moments later he appeared at her side. “I’ll show you everything.”
When she turned to him, she saw a moment of unmasked concern in his eyes. Quickly, expertly, he covered it behind his usual optimistic glow.
She reached out and touched her metal fingertips to his golden arm. He glanced down at them, then back up at her.
“No matter what may happen,” Satya said, “I could never hurt you. Please know that.”
Biting his lower lip, Niran nodded. “No, I–I could never hurt you, either. Even if you...don’t stay.”
The way the sunlight warmed his face, it would have been easy to miss the cold fear behind his eyes. But she knew it well. It matched her own.
“Tomorrow,” he repeated, tapping his nails against the strap that held his heavy prosthetic in place. “Tomorrow I’ll show you everything. I’ll take you all around the island. And you can see if you think you’d like it here.”
She nodded, and his tapping eased. “I will plan on that. And...”
He waited, searching her face uncertainly.
“I do have a month before the next ferry arrives, anyway.”
Niran brightened. “So plenty of time for this cute little island to win you over. I have full faith in it.”
It was good to hear that somebody did. Satya found herself having very little confidence in anything these days.