Cloverleaf Station: Chapter Twenty-Four, Part Two

 Notes: Let's have a conversation with Lizzie, shall we?

Title: Cloverleaf Station: Chapter Twenty-Four, Part Two

***

Chapter Twenty-Four, Part Two

 

Plotting the course to Trakta was straightforward. Three weeks of gentle flying—gentle for Lizzie or Catie, but a pace that would have pushed the Daring Do to the breaking point—and Kieron would be there. He planned to stay no more than a few weeks, preferably just a few days, before heading on to Gania. And then…

He didn’t know. He didn’t know what came next. He didn’t know what to do with his future, where to use his skills, what to dedicate his life to. He had hopes, certainly, but he just didn’t know anything for sure. It was hard, this limbo state, but to be fair, he’d been here before. And he wasn’t a boy of twelve this time, so that counted for a lot.

He decided to focus inward, to pay closer attention to what was going on around him. For the first few days of travel, it was almost like they’d never left Cloverleaf Station. Catie talked to them non-stop, spending copious amounts of time chatting with her sister, and Elanus was on the com almost as frequently. It was only after Elanus’s energy finally ran out and he had to either go to bed or start hallucinating that things became quiet. It was actually a little disconcerting.

Remember where you are. You’re inside a being, an intelligent life form. She can talk with you. Reach out to her. It wasn’t in Kieron’s nature to reach out first, but with Elanus and Catie he’d never had to. Perhaps Lizzie required a different touch.

“Lizzie?”

There was a pause, and then—“Yes, Kieron?”

It was a little bittersweet, hearing a voice so similar to Catie’s and yet so different. She didn’t drawl in the same way, didn’t elongate her vowels in that babyish fashion that was so endearing, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t, well. Still a baby. And you had to be careful with babies. “How are you feeling lately?” Kieron asked gently. “I feel like we haven’t spoken much since we began our trip.”

“We haven’t. I’ve spent twenty-nine-point-two standard hours in conversation with my sister and seventeen-point-five hours in conversation with my father, but only two-point-one hours with you.”

Wow. So little? Kieron opened his mouth to reiterate his question, but Lizzie beat him to it. “I feel sad. I don’t think you like me as much as you like them.”

What? “I do like you,” Kieron insisted. “I like you so much, Lizzie.”

“But you don’t speak to me as often as you spoke to either of them. And they speak to me far more often than you do. I have been led to understand that willingness to engage in conversation is a sign of affection, and you don’t want to talk to me.”

Wow. Two days into this and he was already fucking it up. “I do want to talk to you,” Kieron said firmly, trying to put the weight of his confidence into his words. “I really do. But I’m not as naturally conversational as either Elanus or Catie, and without them to remind me, speaking doesn’t come easily to me.”

“Why not?” Lizzie sounded confused. “I thought humans were a verbal species, that speech is a common trait used for communication among you.”

“Not all humans are created the same way,” Kieron said. “There’s a great deal of biological diversity among us, and then you put genetic engineering in on top of that and in some places, people have entirely given up speaking to each other like this.”

“Like where?”

Oh boy… “Like…the Sisters of Garavar,” Kieron offered after racking his brain for a moment.

“But they are a religious order. Is not religion one of the areas of human interest where speaking among yourselves diminishes the effectiveness of speaking to whatever deity is being addressed?”

“That’s true,” Kieron allowed. “But the Sisters of Garavar take it much farther than any other religious sect. They actually remove their own vocal chords so that they can’t speak. And there are other examples…” What was the one his mother had help up as a great example? Oh, right. “The Trixian space marine corps is one of them. These were soldiers made in biolabs, genetically engineered to grow to full size in a matter of three years and trained from birth to have no curiosity, no personality, to be nothing but living weapons. The people who made them wanted clones, in essence, not individuals who wanted conversations.”

“But that was not the choice of the space marines.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Kieron agreed. “No one can choose the circumstances they’re born into. I was born into a world where children who spoke out of turn were punished harshly, and I learned early on to just…not ask questions. Some people are naturally shy, too—I might have been, but I’ll never know for sure if my reticence to speak is the result of shyness or the rules of my home world.”

“Oh.” There was a moment of silence. “So you do like me, but you don’t like to talk?”

“I like to talk, I just need a reminder sometimes to do it,” Kieron replied. “And yes, I like you very much. I think you’re…” Wondrous. Terrifying. Incredible. “Just as special as your sister is, and I want to get to know you better. What’s your favorite thing about space travel so far?”

“Space!”

There, there was a hint of the childlike wonder that Catie gave off with every word. Kieron chuckled. “That’s great, but what about it specifically?”

“I like…the distance. So big. I can reach out with my sensors for thousands and thousands of kilometers and not find anything else. In the station, everything was so…close.”

“It really was,” Kieron agreed. “What else do you like?”

“I like to ride the gravity waves.” Lizzie sounded a bit dreamy. “They are so strong this close to the Cloverleaf quasar. They feel like a…like…I don’t know. Tingly. Pushing. Soft.”

“Wow.” Kieron stroked his hand over the console, and a little trickle of light followed the path of his fingers. “That sounds really neat.”

“It is. I like it so much.”

“What else?”

“I like looking up names for things. Humans have names for everything! If one language doesn’t know, then another language does. And more than things, they have names for feelings!” There was a harmonic hum. “I want to feel them all.”

“Some feelings are easier to handle than others,” Kieron said. “But I can see the appeal of trying lots of different things like that.”

“What is your favorite feeling?”

“My favorite?” That was a good question. His absolute favorite feeling was the heady, sensual buzz he got with Elanus—so far removed from his usual state of being that the novelty of it still fell all-powerful. But that wasn’t really one for sharing with a child. “I like the feeling of belonging,” he said at last. “Of being part of a community that values me. That’s what being with you and Catie and Elanus gives me, and I appreciate it more than I can tell you.”

“Belonging,” Lizzie said. “Yes. That’s a good one.”

“What about you?” Kieron asked, preferring to speak about anyone but himself. “What’s your favorite feeling right now?”

“I think it’s…surprise.”

He smiled. “Surprise? What’s surprised you lately?”

“You have. I’m so happy you like me.”

Ouch. His heart…it was going to explode. “I’m so lucky to have you with me,” he said after taking a moment to get himself under control. “To talk to and discover new things with. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Kieron.”