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Now that Jande’s speedy trial is over, he has been able to catch up with
what else has been going on. Dare left. He quit his job as Axiom of War and
ran off. He employed the new induced blind suicide protocol, so there is no
record of where he ended up. When that’s used, it bounces the user’s
consciousness all over the galaxy for up to a few days before settling on
one location, so he could be anywhere by now. He’s likely wanting to go back
to his life as a hermit crab, but they may never find out what happened to
him. His position and department were shuttered, like their predecessors,
the Safety Department. It has since been replaced by the Defense Department.
A shortlist of candidates is being vetted for it. Reportedly, no former
superintendent candidate is on it, which makes sense. Looking back, that was
all a big mistake.
Jande knows now why they didn’t bother firing him as superintendent, or
rather impeaching. Firstly, it would make the stain on the history of this
planet bigger than it already is. The first and only superintendent has to
be removed after barely serving? No, they can’t have that. What they can do,
however, is work around him, and quietly cut him out of the decisions. He
was annoyed at first, but then he remembered that he never wanted any of
this. His parents got in his head, and generated ambition that wasn’t
initially there. He can’t believe he let that happen. He just wants to be a
farmer.
“That’s this whole thing. They’re calling it rededication.” Ersence
also quit her job, but not due to any sort of scandal. She just decided
several months into Jande’s disappearance that she didn’t want it anymore.
The competition changed her. She doesn’t want to be a leader, and she
doesn’t want to hold on to the principles she valued when she was
identifying as a Doma Tertian. Most of them don’t anymore.
“They want me to rededicate myself to the community? I can do that.”
“It involves switching to a new body again, even if the one you’re in now
technically qualifies. You also have to swear an oath to Quiratan, and...”
“And what?” Jande presses. “If it’s bad, just tell me. I need to know
regardless.”
“Someone in your position doesn’t get their own plot,” Ersence goes on. “You
have to marry into a family, and they decide your lot. You won’t be head of
household, even though you were before.”
“You and I are still married. What does that mean?” Jande asks.
“We were stripped of our status when we started the games,” Ersence begins
to explain. “To get back in, I had to marry someone else. Now you’re a
dangler.”
Split marriages happen all the time. It’s when someone is married to people
who aren’t married to each other. They used to be kind of frowned upon, but
it’s not the 22nd century anymore—lol—and there was a time when group
marriages weren’t legal, full stop. And before that, you were only allowed
to marry someone of the opposite sex! Society eventually realized that
restricting other people’s happiness doesn’t make any sense, and the rules
were always arbitrary. So now, it’s open. Do whatever you want, as
long as it’s consensual. It’s perfectly normal to have a complex family
tree. Some might say that it’s a little embarrassing to be a dangler, where
you’re only tangential to a family. There’s only a slang term for it, but
it’s also common enough in the galaxy.
“Who are they?” Jande asks. “It would be easier for me to stay on the same
track, instead of finding some other random family to join.” He would have
to divorce Ersence first, so there aren’t any land allocation questions. At
least that’s how it worked before.
Ersence nods. “I would be okay with that. I honestly don’t know how the
others would feel. It’s more of an arrangement than anything. I care for the
young uquirapods in the nursery, getting them used to human interaction, but
it’s not like the Quiratan you used to know. Not everyone is a farmer...they
don’t have to be anymore. One of them actually works for Defense. He may
have an opinion about you. I hardly ever see him.”
“I would like to meet him,” Jande decides, “as well as the others.”
“I can set you up on a date,” Ersence says. “It would be best if it were one
on one, I think. He doesn’t like to be ambushed, I know that much about him,
so while it might sound better to win over the others first, we should start
with him. If he doesn’t accept you, it really doesn’t matter what the others
think. Can you handle that?”
“I’ve been on a date before,” Jande replies.
Ersence turns around to get started. “Not like this. Not after what
happened.”
It’s not for another three days when Ersence’s other husband, Ridley
Forrester has time off enough for a date. They’re at a restaurant at the top
of Tiny Tower. It’s called that because it’s only five stories tall, but
that makes it the tallest living space structure in the world. There are
taller objects, of course, but not for regular usage. Still, it’s a nice
view of the valley below. Ridley’s face is so hard and still, if you only
saw his head, and someone asked you to guess whether he was the type to wear
his uniform at all times, you would say yes. And you would be right.
“Can I ask, what do you do for the Defense Department?” Jande asks.
“I’m Hock Watcher for the Prisoners of War sector,” Ridley answers.
“POWs?” Jande echoes. “Did you hold that role before we even had any,
or is that a new position that had to open up because of what happened a
couple months ago?”
“I was just Hock Watcher. Then I was promoted when the new sector became
necessary. I applied to the original job sixteen years ago, hoping that I
would never have anything to do. I wasn’t lazy, mind you, but I wanted to
walk into that cell block every day and be completely alone. I wanted the
isolation to show me that we rose above our past mistakes.” His passion
increases noticeably as he speaks. “I wanted to see...the proof that crime
no longer existed. And then they came.” Now he’s tearing up. “They came, and
they proved me wrong. I didn’t want the promotion, but I accepted it,
because now every day, I need to see that I was wrong. I won’t forget that
lesson anytime soon.”
“I’m sorry,” Jande tells him. “I’m sorry for my part in that.” He doesn’t
understand it. They came from a distant star, thinking that Bida was
responsible for sending the Kugelblitz black holes to them, instead of the
truth, which is that both worlds were victims. They don’t feel the same way
Ridley does. They believe in death. They’re human, but that’s such an alien
concept. You don’t jump into war before you have all the facts. Or rather,
according to most Milky Way cultures, you don’t. Who knows what they’ve been
through, and why they felt they had to do it this way? They didn’t. A single
conversation, and this whole thing could have been cleared up.
Ridley is still teared up. “What you did, Superintendent Ter Avest, was
believe the same thing that I did. You believed in the goodness of the
universe. Don’t you ever apologize for that. Despite what happened, sir, you
are a hero to Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida, and I would be honored to one day
call you my husband...if you’ll have us.”
Jande breathes, having not expected that response. “Yes.”
