S’kasia’s tail flicked from side to side. “I understand why S’samph says trying to speak with you is like cracking an egg only to find nine additional layers of shell.” She moved away from the tapestry. “But I am being rude. You are a guest in my home, and you will share things about yourself as you feel more comfortable. Come. Teach me the foodways of your people.”
She’d always enjoyed the rare occasions she got to practice cooking back in Gaia, but most of the time ingredients were too expensive and had to be imported from Earth, which made cooking a hobby for the rich. Most of the time, people ate recombined nutrient meals. They were cheap and nutritious enough, but Eleri remembered the few times she’d been in the kitchen with her mother, grandmother, and Rhys, their arms warm and sticky up to the elbows in bread dough or the aroma of a handful of nut slivers toasting in a pan. Cooking with S’kasia was different. The two of them were focused on the task at hand, and there was a lot less laughter, but the familiar smell of batter mixing with hot oil on the stovetop brought comforting familiarity.
“These are simple enough to cook.” S’kasia flipped one of the pancakes with military precision as if she’d been cooking them her whole life.
“It’s hard to find easy matches for a lot of Gaiese ingredients, so I had to pick something simple to recreate with what we have here in Laurus.” Eleri paused and then admitted, “I’m also not a very good cook. Mostfresh ingredients were too expensive on Gaia for me to have a lot of opportunity to practice.”
“Many things are different here.” S’kasia stacked the cakes high on a plate beside the dish she had prepared. “Shall we eat?”
“Yes, but these aren’t quite finished yet.” Eleri produced the bottle of kowsa syrup and poured a cautious drizzle over the top before adding a handful of ywes berries. She wasn’t sure if sweet things were to latil’e taste. She’d tasted a bit the night before to make sure the flavor wasn’t totally off. It had a more floral taste than what she’d eaten in Gaia, but it would serve the same purpose. She thought it tasted a bit like a flower syrup she’d tried once at a friend’s home. It was a rare luxury imported from Earth that they’d been able to share. Eleri had never been to Earth herself, but some of the older patients she’d seen at the hospital on Gaia had talked about their grandparents living there full-time before it became unliveable for anyone other than the impossibly wealthy scions of the Five Families and their people.
They sat down at a low table with mats of woven rushes in place of chairs. She took a hesitant sip of the g’gek and found it warm and savory with spices she couldn’t identify. S’kasia made a low noise when she tasted Eleri’s offering and declared it ‘different from anything she had tasted’. It was a departure from the latil’e directness, but Eleri suspected her friend was trying to be polite. Full of good food and uncomfortable in her current position. Eleri crossed her legs, feeling the pop of her joints, reminding her of the past few sleepless nights. The larger sun had set by this point, and the room was cast in a rosy glow after the harshness of the daytime suns. A glint in the corner of the room caught Eleri’s eye, and she found herself staring at a half-covered basket woven from the same rushes as the sitting mats.
“You are looking at my eggs.” S’kasia glanced at the jewel-toned clutch of three eggs from the corner of her eye. Eleri noticed the visible tuck of her tail. She didn’t know much about the female latil’e reproductive cycle, but the eggs weren’t alive. Even from a distance, she could tell they lacked standard life signs. Eleri pulled her gaze away, feeling a flush of heat rise against her cheekbones. She didn’t know the appropriate response. A medical response might feel too sterile and impersonal, but she wasn’t close enough with S’kasia to comment as a friend.
“Do you want to tell me about them?” She asked thequestion softly. “We can talk about something else if you don’t.”
“They will never hatch. I am not such a fool to think of miracles.” S’kasia set her eating utensil down on the table. “My mate and I were fleeing the implosion of Latilla. He stayed behind to help evacuate the capitol. My mate did not survive the exodus. My eggs did not survive the space journey. It is not a complicated story.” Although her words sounded of finality, Eleri had learned enough about latil’e body language to interpret the droop of S’kasia’s neck frill and the curl of her tail.
“I’m sorry to hear that. That all sounds very painful.” Eleri stared down at her half-eaten pancakes, the taste she’d been looking forward to having lost excitement in the light of the sobering conversation. She knew the standard platitudes for human fetal loss, but they were inadequate even for their intended purpose. It was so rare, she’d hardly encountered it on Gaia. The artificial wombs were remarkably efficient at propagating viable embryos. But that was only true for those who could afford the technology. When she’d done a stint on the maternity ward at Cherry Bay, one of the poorest hospitals on Gaia, the hardest moments were the women who lost a child growing biologically. Eleri had never lost a child of her own, but she would never forget the hollow, airless screams followed by gasping, ravenous sobs as their bodies folded in on themselves.
S’kasia relayed her story with a grim sterility, but Eleri imagined there was unimaginable pain tucked away somewhere.
“What will you do with them?” Eleri found herself asking.
S’kasia was quiet for a long moment, so long that Eleri feared she might have ruined things with the question. Finally, the tip of S’kasia’s tail curled inward. “I’m not sure. They’ve been with me for so long, I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Are there rites? Humans have rites for babies that don’t come into our world alive.”
“There are,” S’kasia confirmed. “But I haven’t found enough fire inside myself to go through with them.
“If you ever wanted…” she trailed off. “I would help. If you wanted.” Eleri stared at her feet, unsure how to move forward from the discomfort of the conversation. Finally, S’kasia leaned closer to her and placed a single long finger in the center of her forehead.
“Do not feel sadness for your kindness.” S’kasia removed her finger and laid her hand flat on her lap. “There is enough sadness here already. I chose you for S’samph specifically because of your high empathy scores.He is a male in great need of kindness.”
“He is kind enough in his own way,” Eleri said, catching the words leaving her mouth before she took the time to think them through.
“He will be a good mate to you. I think you see this already.” S’kasia shifted her gaze to her eggs. “It means nothing now, but I miss my mate fiercely. I would regret missing out on any of the time we could have had together.” She stood abruptly. “Thank you for coming to my home, and for sharing your thoughts. You have shown me my instincts were correct.”
“I’m glad we were able to speak. Thank you for telling me about why you chose me.” Eleri glanced up at the other female, still at a loss for responding in a way that could capture her feelings accurately. The blunt directness of latil’e communication was still jarring, but she found herself grateful for the odd kinship with S’kasia.
“It may help you to know more about my clutch brother. If you can understand him, perhaps you will be more understanding of his rejection when you first arrived here.”
Eleri shook her head. She wasn’t one to hold grudges. It had stung badly at the time, but she and S’samph were building something new now, something different. “I have forgiven him.”
S’kasia’s frill rippled with curiosity. “You are a better female than I am. He is lucky you are so willing to let his transgressions pass. But you should know this story anyhow.” She took a sip of the thick g’gek before continuing. “When Latilla was dying, S’samph, K’kaen, and my mate, were all serving in the military. They had been tasked with organizing the evacuation of Tara’tel, one of the largest cities. The walls began to crumble, blocking our major roadway.” S'kasia took a bite of one of Eleri’s hotcakes and flicked her tongue in distaste. However, Eleri recognized it wasn’t the time to ask about her cooking.
S'kasia took another sip of her g’gek before continuing, “S’samph and my mate T’thaer were going to both go back to help reroute civilians to a different exit, but we needed one of them to stay behind to facilitate the ship-boarding process. Fights were breaking out among the people waiting, so S’samph stayed behind to help my sisters and me keep the peace.” S'kasia stared down at the table, and her tail went lank behind her.
“I think I understand what happened.” Eleri filled the long silence with a quiet statement.
S’kasia straightened her bowed head. “T’thaer did not make it back. Between my clutch brother and my mate, it is an impossible choice. I would not wish to replace one with the other. But S’samph bears guiltfor staying behind and living even though I have told him his death would bring me equal grief.”
Eleri stared at her own hands. It made sense. S’samph’s grief and his rejection. She wasn’t even part of the equation, not really. At that point, he knew nothing about her other than a brief bio and some demographics on an IA dossier. “I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been.”
“But we are still alive. We must continue living. I would like for my brother to find new life with you.”
Eleri nodded. “Just don’t forget about yourself.” She did her best not to look at the eggs in the corner of the room, but her eyes betrayed her. S’kasia’s frill settled against her shoulders.
