Profession

Things start to work themselves out

Apparently, the meeting between the Avengers and the League was acrimonious, but this was as much due to anger over the appellate decision and the probable consequences than any real disagreement. The Avengers issued a terse statement that they were appealing the decision to the Supreme Court and they would abide by the rule of law, but that the financial realities were such that the superheroes would most likely be forced to suspend actions in states that would hold them liable. The League made no announcement.

While all this was roiling around--and it was amazing how many people were willing to forgo superhero protection when money was involved from suspected deep pockets--a more personal change was announced. Miles had decided to retire from dancing.

"I wanted to let you know before the public announcement, Lys, because you've always been such a strong supporter of mine," he said over communicator. "You know I have some physical strength enhancements, but even they can't stop the march of time. My feet are terrible, I've got tendon damage that I can't get really repaired until I stop dancing because the repairs won't hold up to the strain of practice and performance. And I'm just getting tired of spending six hours a day in rehearsal, and I'd love to not have to watch my weight so much, be able to eat sweets without an automatic calculation of how the calories will screw me up." I nodded, and he went on to say that his wife was retiring too, her body was in even worse shape because the pressure for thinness was even more intense and she'd had to fight anorexia ever since she got serious about dance. Her body was starting to break down, and they wanted kids. As it was, the strain of her eating disorder was worrisome, and they were going to use the artificial uterus like Deri was, to ensure the health of baby and mother. He wanted to choreograph, and she was going to work with an organization that helped dancers transition to other careers and different lives once their time was up. He told me when their last performance would be, in advance of the public, so that I could be sure to get tickets. Which I did, as soon as I got off the call. After the official announcement was made later, Grandma Alex sent us an invitation to a retirement party.

A couple of weeks after I returned from the Crimea, I got an invitation to tea with the Russian ambassador. I accepted, and was shown into the ambassador's private office. Unlike the palaces normally associated with the Russians, the office was sleek in the Middle Modernism style, full of the translucent materials and light that characterized it. It felt kind of weird to me, like I was sitting in a movie set or decorator showroom. The ambassador was an older woman who seemed to be a nightmare figure from folklore under her sleek appearance. There was just something ruthless about her, and I was kind of second-guessing my decision to attend when her assistant wheeled in a cart with a silver samovar of tea and some snacks. It was proper Russian Caravan tea, and I added a dollop of jam and milk to the tea to balance out the smokiness and admired the silver glass holder; so pretty and a nice change of pace from porcelain. It came with a three-tiered tray of cookies, small cakes, candies, and crystallized orange rind spirals. There wasn't much said beyond the niceties until each of us had tea and sweets and made inroads into each.

"Ms Wayne," Ambassador Mirov said. "Thank you for accepting my invitation. I have been commanded by the tsarina to convey information to you." I gulped some tea. Steady on, Lys. "First, she personally regrets that you were caught up in the events in Sevastopol. She still intends to release your portraits as scheduled, with full credit to the artist.

"You understand that while it is public knowledge that the current tsarina is not responsible for the occupation of the Crimea, it is less well-known that she was not happy with it. She appreciates your careful comments to the press regarding her role in the immediate aftermath of the military's actions as they allow her to make things clear. Shortly, in the next day or two, the palace will release the findings of the inquiry that she has ordered. Appended to the report will be her personal apology to the survivors and her plan of action.