SOMA (LGBT-scifi-romance)

Chapter Ten: Queen's Gambit

Sector 06: Cita Avis

Jan. 16, 462 AC

In the cockpit, Lady replayed a thermograph of the crash. Amidst the bright flare of engine fire, a patch of red—Soma—crossed the dashboard screen. "This is incredible," she gushed. "His internal temperature measured one-fifty. None of papa's other kids get anywhere near that hot. Most fire starters manifest at puberty and burn themselves up before reaching these extremes."

En crawled back into the cockpit and strapped himself into the co-pilot seat. He felt along his bruised jaw and swelling eyes. His lips pressed thin.

"Your performance is breathtaking as always," Lady continued. "The things you can do with a little empathy and an understanding of human behaviour: it's amazing."

"Thank you," En said.

Lady pouted prettily. "So why do you look like I strangled your fish?"

"Whatever information you wanted, Lady, I could've gotten it without this charade."

"I know," Lady said. "I appreciate your services."

"He's a kid." En said, meeting Lady's eyes. "He needed a hospital and a therapist. Not a slap-on cast, painkillers, and being sent back out there."

"We didn't send him," Lady corrected. She swung her leather cockpit seat around. Her enormous gray eyes reminded En of fog-wreathed nights. "We told him repeatedly that it was dangerous. If anyone's to blame, it's Leanne Ashwood, and she's already dead. En, if this kid can lead us to her rebels, everything ends. The colonies might be safe by this time tomorrow." She leaned forward and put a delicate hand on En's knee. "When we started, you said you'd do anything to safeguard the colonies. Is that not true anymore?"

"How did you know he would be here?" En asked. "One of your father's dish babies, in this random corner of the moon rings?"

"Dumb question," Lady said, silver hair falling over her pale eyes, "I know where all of my father's kids are."

"Lady..." En shook his head. "What's going on? What's the Man of Means after, making these kids with fire?"

After a moment, Lady reached up with a pale hand and smoothed down the fringes of En's hair. Her thumb traced along En's bruised cheeks. "I don't know," Lady admitted. "First, we put a stop to this rebellion. After that... if papa's planning something dire, it won't be Leanne Ashwood that stops him." Her face flickered grim. She turned back towards space, where the little emergency pod had vanished into the dark. "It'll be me."

Sector 06: Cita Avis

Jan. 16, 462 AC

The pod took Soma and Gemini through a cloud of orange pollution that left their windshields stained. Petroleum-filled trash bags flapped against the vessel hull. Soma sank back against the cramped seat, and felt strength drain away. His pack was heavy in his lap. His hands throbbed where he'd held the turing rifle. "Do you think she'll make it? Mrs. S?"

Gemini grunted.

"Aren't you going to ask about what happened back there? With the fire?"

"What's wrong with your arm?" Gemini's voice was exasperated.

"Probably broken. But that's fine, I have another one. I'm Soma."

"Gemini."

The surly tone snagged against Soma's memories. "That's not your name," he managed. "That's your constellation model."

Gemini rolled his eyes. "Waterworks again?"

"You have the same programming as someone I... someone I know." Soma's voice cracked. It hurt. By Leanne, it hurt to look at the dock syn now, without fear and adrenaline clouding his thoughts: Cain's gestures and expressions in this strange other body—gaunt, sunken cheekbones and skin that stretched and wrinkled with starvation. Dark orbits hung under the syn's eyes, and his dirty hair was covered with frost. When Gemini removed his bloody gloves to rub his mouth, his nails were chipped, with cold slivers cut in his pale fingers. Soma wanted to look away but couldn't. "I think we should travel together. Strength in numbers. And if you get tired, I'll fly."

"Do you know how?" Gemini was skeptical.

"I will if you teach me."

"You think I should trust you, just because you knew a copy of me," Gemini sneered.

Soma wanted to point out he was at least half responsible for getting them off the black ship, but Cain's model never responded well to logic. It was Maria's soft touches Cain preferred: flattery and kisses.

"I trust you," Soma said instead. He knew his tone was too intimate, too raw, but in his mind, it was Cain across the cockpit from him. Angry, defensive, fist-first Cain, who had always loved Soma back but never knew how to show it. "I know you. You're loud and short-tempered. You don't sleep much. You hate music. You solve everything with your fists, even when you're so, so clever. Once you help someone, you wouldn't ever leave them."

Gemini's blue eyes narrowed. "And you're wearing a girl's coat."

The familiar banter choked him. "D... don't be Pre-Cataclysmic about it. I look hot."

"I'm nothing like your syn." Gemini hunched his shoulders over the ship controls.

The dock syn was more eloquent than Cain had been—probably programmed with an updated linguistics bios. It was uncanny, their similarities made all the little differences stark.

"Why weren't you culled?" Soma asked. His tongue tasted bitter.

Gemini was silent for so long Soma thought he was ignored. Finally, the syn said, "I was abandoned here last month. There was a mandatory bios update a few days before that. Maybe they only culled outdated models."

"You're lucky."

"No," Gemini's voice shorted. "I'm not."

And that was the end of conversations for some time.

Soma looked out to the fields of sweeping stars across the window. They shuttled through the industrial district and sailed towards open space, under tall wheels with protruding chimneys, and dull cubical water plants. Ferals were reclusive in the cold and dark, but Soma fancied he could see them peering from the shadows, squirreled in little nooks and under bridges.

"What do we do now... Soma?"

Soma's words fogged. "Now, we find Leanne."

Emycee's Note:

Thank you, everyone! Love you all. 

Special thank you to thevkjohnson, for your lovely comment!