Changeling
(81): Getting Out

“You can’t do this! I was following legal orders!”

The dragoon pilot activated some sort of manacle collar that made the tall woman wince. An augment suppressor, which worked on any legal augs within Threshold. Also why Nestra wasn’t sure she would have installed any even if she wanted to.

As for illegal augs, law enforcement had a habit of manually removing them during arrest and that tended to be very unpleasant. Hunnigan’s goons were proper mercenaries though. Nestra hated their fucking guts. She could still see District Fifteen burning in her mind when she smelled smoke, sometimes.

Yawning, she leaned against a nearby wall. Letting an aug arrest another aug felt right, and from the expression on the pilot’s face, the woman was having fun as well so all good. Nestra wasn’t sure why dragoons had been dispatched to arrest augs that were already neutralized. Maybe it was overkill to send a message, or maybe other soldiers were just busy. What mattered was that she got to watch the dragoon lieutenant tear Hunnigan’s goon a new one.

“The orders are clearly illegal. Per Threshold’s rules, following illegal orders does not protect you from the law. It is the soldier’s responsibility to make sure his orders and their executions remain compliant with Threshold’s rules and regulations.”

“This is bullshit.”

“I’m not arguing with you. I’m arresting you.”

“Soldiers can’t arrest people!”

“Yes we can. You really need to read a law book.”

Dasari, Hitomi and Williams had already left with the loot bag. All Nestra had to do was wait until she was cleared to leave or shoved into one more interrogation room where she’d get to play the gargoyle.

“So, how are things?” she asked Valerian.

The broad-shouldered man shrugged.

“I’m making a name and a fortune. It turns out that rogue healers are in high demand among people with a bone to pick with House Nephrite.”

“Imagine that.”

“I’m also working in ER, pediatrics for now. The kind of shit people do to their kids…”

Valerian sighed, breathing out barely contained anger.

“The good thing is, casting pain spells has never been easier.”

“Watch out though. Too many negative emotions and…”

“I’m seeing a therapist.”

Nestra gave the life gleam a double take. Valerian? Opening up to people?

“And by seeing I don’t mean romantically. In case you were wondering. The way my mana works only reinforces my belief that a holistic approach to healing must be considered. Even current magic-based treatments draw on the dichotomy between body and soul that has pervaded western medicine for the past centuries, although therapy itself could be seen as an effort to bridge that gap.”

“Huh uh. I know some of those words.”

“Don’t pretend to be stupid in front of me, N… Crescent. Sorry. I’m trying to be serious here.”

“Alright. My bad. And I’m glad you’re making progress.”

“I miss our raids. When do we do it again?”

“I have a mission in a few days. Maybe in two weeks or so?”

“Okay.”

He paused.

“I also patented the first life-mana defense spell. It’s a memory hex that draws the user’s perception of their bodies as an anchor to remodel flesh after it’s been warped or diseased. Obviously, I can’t test it, but…”

“If raiders ever come across enemies that use flesh crafting offensively, Threshold will have the groundwork done to resist them.”

“Precisely. Well, no, not resist, but allow people to quickly recover from the ordeal. I’m still working on more defenses. Hold on. Look.”

The dragoon pilot was making visor gestures. Valerian took out a datapad from a pack. The news feeds were roaring with the announcement of a live speech. From Hunnigan. Valerian didn’t need to be asked to open it.

Hunnigan was looking at the camera from behind a soberly elegant dress under the light of a late afternoon sun. He looked as polished as ever but there were shadows under his eyes, and something manic about his smile that made Nestra nervous. She’d seen it before, in very tired people about to make bad decisions.

“People of Threshold, I have been tirelessly working for your benefit. In the brief time I have been in office, I have pushed back against the influence of the guilds, and implemented measures so that they step up and take responsibility for their duties.”

If Nestra could roll her eyes any deeper she’d see her own stomach. Hunnigan kept going with his utter bullshit, essentially lying through his teeth about how he was held back by the establishment and the majority. His ability to turn all of his abusive horseshit into reasonable measures, his haste into decisiveness, and his disregard for what his office was actually supposed to do as a cooperation with other services, like the treasury. Which was a lie. Which Nestra knew because the head of said office had written an injunction against the new tax, claiming Hunnigan had no right to install it.

Looking at the real time comments was just depressing, the more common ones being ‘he’s telling it like it is’ or ‘time to take the trash out of the Beacon’.

“Surely those commenters are bots, right?”

“I’m afraid you need a registered citizen ID to comment there,” Valerian replied.

And wasn’t that depressing. But the timing of the video was obviously in answer to articles of impeachment. Technically, the majority didn’t have the votes to get him out… except they’d been filed by Shinran. A ping showed that he, too, was starting a live speech.

“That’s like watching history in the making…” Nestra whispered.

More of a footnote but still. Shinran had picked the Beacon as his background, at least the monumental entrance on the ground floor. It was a proper press conference with most of the major outfits represented. The view count was massive, more than should be possible.

“So many viewers?”

“It’s a major political crisis in Threshold. The users of the world are watching,” Valerian commented.

Shinran was beginning to speak. He looked vaguely angry in his traditional monk robes. Nestra couldn’t remember him revealing negative feelings in public.

“It is with deep regret that I must file articles of impeachment against Counselor Hunnigan. In the two weeks he’s been in power, Hunnigan has shown a complete lack of regard for our social partners, the guilds large and small, as well as his fellow servants of the city. But that is not why I am filing. Those are not crimes. He also unilaterally ordered measures that his position does not grant him the right to implement. That is also not why I am filing for impeachment. No. The courts will issue injunctions whenever necessary to curtail excess just as we agreed upon when we decided, together, how our city would be governed. I am not filing for impeachment because Hunnigan’s rash incompetence has brought the city to a halt, and forced the resignation of no less than two dozen officers. That is a matter for the urns. I am filing for impeachment because as of an hour ago, Hunnigan signed the arrest order of a citizen of good standing in our city, albeit one hidden by a mask. I have personally guaranteed the protection of those who, for one reason or another, would decide to contribute anonymously to our cause. When officers refused to carry out this illegal order, Hunnigan ordered mercenaries of the Red Curtain company. The arbitrary arrest of a citizen is a felony under our law. I now ask my fellow counselors and district representatives to step up and bring an end to this travesty. We cannot allow those who flaunt the law to stay at the highest offices. We are better than this. As one of the city’s founders, I hope we are better than this,” he finished, glaring at the camera.

As a rule of thumb, if Nestra found herself agreeing with a politician then he was certainly lying. This was Shinran though. He wasn’t so much a politician as someone who had obtained influence through the oldest of all methods: the ability to outpunch everyone else. As a fellow muscle brain, she was willing to give him a chance.

In any case, that probably solved her problem. Hunnigan was going away, one way or another. There would probably be negotiations with the guilds soon. Nestra felt a bit weird that something that affected her so much could be solved by someone else without her having to, for example, quietly assassinate the opposition. She was just one person though, as reality liked to remind her.

“I feel weird about this,” she told Valerian.

“What do you mean? I haven’t felt this relieved since I reached C-class.”

“It’s just… over like that?”

“Oh I know what you feel. Ok so, Hunnigan probably won’t be sent to the Red House. He’ll probably just be fined and assigned a back office position for a couple of years until his charisma brings him back to the spotlight and most idiots believe he’s ‘learned his lesson’.”

“Oh yeah, that I can believe. Hey, how did you know it would work?”

“You’re feeling weird because you’re witnessing a politician being made publicly accountable for their crimes as if the system wasn’t designed by them for them in order to cover their asses.”

“Oh yeah.”

But there was another news alert. Both gleams leaned over the datapad, reading the quickly scrolling text.

“Dozens of civil servants and opposition party admins come out citing a ‘long history of bullying and abuse’ and ‘narcissistic practices’ by counselor Hunnigan. Class action lawsuit filed with the High Court.”

“Well,” Valerian said, thoughtful. “Now I’m just as baffled as you are.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Hey I know. Maybe he just offended someone too important: Shinran.”

“Ok now you’re the one making a lot of sense.”

***

Nestra turned and turned on her pillow pile. Her visor lay discarded mid procrastination. She had purchased a VR set, tried it for ten minutes, liked it, and then left it in a corner anyway. She switched to human form, felt her anxiety spike, switched back to Aszhii form, becoming incapable of focusing on anything. She had skipped lunch. Nothing interested her.

She couldn’t live like this. She couldn’t accept herself like this. She was being a complete asshole. Ulysses was right. She was a cuckoo. Not because she had killed the other birds in the nest, but because she was hiding something important from people she loved, and wasn’t sure if their love was for her, or for an idea of her.

Nestra sat at her table. She switched off the light. It wasn’t quiet — Threshold never was. But it was quiet enough.

“Will my parents kill me?”

No. She couldn’t believe that. Even if they hated her for what she was, they were still loving people who would not feel the need to kill someone just for how they were born. Well, they might in the heat of the moment, but she would take steps to prevent that.

They would not kill her. Of this, she was certain.

“Will they love me, still?”

That was… unlikely. It wasn’t the same. Her parents bore deep scars. Her mother, in particular, had lived the Incursion like a violation. They had lost the world they knew. Her father… she wasn’t sure. He always kept his feelings close to his heart. There was a fear there, like he was afraid to express them in case he failed to convey them properly. Maybe. He preferred to show care by actions like creating Nestra’s sound system and the strange music she played, sometimes. No, there was really no guarantee they would love her. In fact, she didn’t believe it.

“Am I fine with being sad, if it means I’m true?”

That was the question she had always asked herself. Until then, she’d never had an answer. After her birthday, though? She knew.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

She owed them this much.

She was going to tell them.

But she was going to be smart about it. Grabbing her visor, she called Stibbs.

“Sereth isn’t going to be happy about it, I imagine,” her friend said after listening to her. “He’s so scared for you.”

“I think he had some bad stuff happen with his family. He mentioned his sister,” Nestra said.

Stibbs didn’t reply.

“He told you,” Nestra concluded.

“He did and it’s not for me to share. He is… very concerned about you. I think he likes you a lot, more than he thought he would. I suppose you tend to grow on people despite your self-centered, sarcastic ways.”

“So true.”

“So I assume you want help setting something up? A presentation maybe?”

“No no. They wouldn’t like that. I was thinking about a strategy meeting.”

“I can do that. When?”

“I want to do it before I leave for the … for a mission. In two days. I can ask them tomorrow. They’re in-between raiding.”

“Alright. Let’s plan this.”

Nestra next called Aunt Claire before she could disappear somewhere.

***

The mood was tense in the Palladian living room. Mom and Dad oscillated between curious, wary, and annoyed. Claire and Helena looked like they’d rather be somewhere else under their supportive faces and Nestra couldn’t blame them, but she’d offered them a choice and they’d accepted.

Claire was also here to buy time to allow Nestra to escape if one of her parents decided to kill her. The B-class would be fine.

This was it. The moment she’d avoided for so long. First she’d wondered if they were in on it but had elected not to tell her, then Sereth had confirmed they were marks used by an unscrupulous asshole. They’d accepted her back until the love she’d experienced again had turned sour. She owed them the truth. Fear gripped her heart, making her regret her decision. Wasn’t it the sort of no-win situation that could lead to nothing but pain, as Sereth had suggested? It was only because it was far too late that she moved on. Her throat was dry, her chest was ice, and the true form shifted in its dimensional retreat. Time to pull the trigger.

“Thanks for letting me do this. I’ll be direct then. For the past seven months, I’ve been hiding something from you. Something I recently found out and decided to keep secret.”

She followed her mom’s gaze.

“And no it’s not a pregnancy. Sorry. I would have announced it in a happier way. So, before I begin, Helena knows because I told her, and Claire found out shortly after I got my human core back.”

The choice of words was deliberate. Both of her parents reacted like raptor birds spotting something off. Not encouraging.

Panic clawed at Viv’s hest with icy talons. Her heart drummed so hard she thought it might break through her ribs.

“What I’m trying to say is, I asked them to keep it quiet and they accepted. it’s my responsibility to have waited for so long. I was just very scared. I’m sorry. Yeah, so, first thing, I have a transformed shape. I’m going to show it now. Please don’t be alarmed.”

“Honey, that’s impossible. Transformation gleams…”

Never had Nestra been so stressed to assume her true form.

“Don’t… work… like that?”

They looked more shocked than anything.

“So you’re Crescent,” her father said. “Your style is a little different… but your mom is right. We’ve fought alongside transformation gleams, Nestra. This… doesn’t feel right.”

Her mom’s mouth was still hanging open.

“I’m not a transformation gleam. Although I am your daughter, I am also an alien. Or monster, Or whatever you want to call it.”

Her mom was shaking her head. Her dad had a statue-like immobility that was a little terrifying but, at least, neither of them looked angry.

“But… I gave birth to you.”

“You did. Look, I’m terribly sorry. The way it works is, the species I belong to are shape changers. The way they… we work, is that they sneak onto a planet, take the shape of a family man, and then, yeah.”

Fuck it.

“They sleep with the mother. Then I was born.”

Both of them looked to Claire for confirmation. Nestra didn’t turn her head but from the way they paled, they believed.

“Oh my God,” her mom said, voice shaking with horror. “Then… Oh my God. Oh my God.”

Nestra waited a bit.

“Yeah, so…”

“Oh my GOD!”

Her mom stood from her seat. She disappeared, the door banging open in a burst of cold air.

“Sorry,” she said, reappearing in the corridor. “Sorry I just…”

Nestra was glued to her seat. The situation had escaped her like a rabid hound breaking its chains.

“But… you look just like me…” her father whispered.

“I’m your perfect genetic match. Just. In human form…”

There was a moment when her father was as closed as a vault door. Absolutely unreadable. He very slowly spoke and Nestra realized she still couldn’t tell anything.

“I think Debbie needs me now. I am sorry.”

And then he was out too.

Nestra gripped her seat until it creaked, reminding her to unclasp her fingers from the armrests. A friendly hand grabbed her shoulder. Nestra resisted the urge to fight it. It was awkward and hesitant: Claire.

“Sorry, Nes,” Aunt Claire whispered.

“Well at least I’m not dead.”

“I think we should wait for a bit.”

They did. For ten minutes. B-Class people could read a book in ten minutes.

At some point, Helena grabbed her into a half hug but Nestra was frozen in place. Her mind had short-circuited. She had been prepared for screams, hoped for forgiveness. Them just leaving wasn’t something she understood. Like… do something? Say something? Don’t leave me hanging like a wet pillow case? What…

“I’m going home,” Nestra announced.

“Sis…”

Nestra stood, switching back to her human form.

“I know, Helena. Sorry I guess I also put you two in an awkward spot. Thanks for being there.”

“I’ll answer their questions, Nes,” Claire said. “I’ll help them. Don’t worry.”

“Ok.”

Nestra returned to her car through the quiet house. The lights were out. As soon as she was in, she let the AI drive. She wanted to scream, maybe to cry a bit, but she had expected relief and what she felt was emptiness.

***

There was a time in everybody’s life when things inevitably crashed back down. That night, Nestra hunkered down with a pot of ice cream (chocolate). She’s had a good run if she had to be honest. A year ago she had been dying of mana starvation. Then she had found her true form, then reclaimed her identity as a gleam and as a daughter thanks to Claire. It had been nice, really, but it had also been built on shaky foundations, and those had inevitably collapsed. At least this was a controlled descent. Helena and Claire were still here for her, after all, and her secret was still spread across only a few people. She could still raid. And they hadn’t tried to kill her! It had been as risky as coming out as gay in the nineteenth century. Or, she remembered, to her maternal grandparents. And she was alive! They hadn’t even spat on her or told her she was an abomination. Or informed Shinran. That she knew of. So really, she had no cause to complain if she had to be objective! Plenty of people had it much worse. Yeah.

She looked at her den and found it strange, like it wasn’t hers. Everything was fleeting. In the air, metaphorically speaking.

Now what? She was supposed to get to B-class next. Her people were going to start hunting humans soon and Helena needed help with void mana adjustment. That was important, yeah. And going to the bridge world for that mission? Well, it was like the cooking show: a tool to prepare mankind for their second encounter with an alien species except this one could be helpful. It would help. It would all help. It was important. She could make a big difference. In fact, only she could make such a big difference. Yeah. That first, and then more grinding. Nestra had an important purpose so she couldn’t allow herself to get depressed or maybe die in battle.

Her visor beeped. Nestra jumped it like a monster, checking who was the sender. She was only mildly disappointed to see it was from Claire. Sereth had been ignoring her calls.

“Hey. I had a talk with your mom. She’s very upset, but that’s not your fault. It’s more about what our family tried to do when she said she wanted to leave to attend university. She was a bit upset about me too but I reminded her that we’d hidden things in the past. It’s a difficult time for her, Nes. I’m working on it. None of it was your choice. None of it is your fault. Things will get better.

I’m so sorry.”

Nestra threw the visor against the wall. Then she picked it up to compose a short reply, thanking her lucky stars that she’d chosen a reinforced model because of work. Everybody was sorry. They were always sorry. It meant they cared. But apologies were excuses for a lack of reciprocity. She just didn’t… feel good anyway.

“Gah!”

She needed to raid. If she raided, then everything would be alright. Another ping came, this one from the army. Nestra’s presence was requested for a debrief.

“Another interrogation room. Great.”

Might as well pack and sleep in the beacon. She couldn’t stand to stay home any longer anyway. As she left, her secure phone pinged (again) with a notification from her mask bank that didn’t make any sense. Another notification from the army’s loot unit or whatever it was called followed. Nestra’s eyes widened when she read the contents. The guardian core she had forfeited since the army gleams had seen her grab it had been sold for a record amount due to its rare and valuable ice signature. Her share was 1.2 million credits. After tax. The strange organisms she’d insisted they sampled had been sold to Baihe for a whooping 6.2 million credits as it was apparently so uniquely different from anything else ever found so far that it might open an entire new avenue of research into cold-resistant organisms and extremophiles. A brief search confirmed that extremophile wasn’t a kink, but a creature capable of living in extreme environments.

Nestra was suddenly rich.

It was also pointless for her to invest in anything, so after a confidential transfer to Gorge to clear the last of her debt, she had to decide. Sitting down, she gave the expedition a thought.

“I really don’t want to die.”

Life wasn’t good right now but it would get better and there were people who loved her she absolutely couldn’t let down. There was one thing she could do with her money.

Nestra scheduled an urgent meeting with the Beacon’s marketplace. With pleasure, she patted her Skin, sending it a mental message of ‘food soon’. The Skin woke, extended its perception, returned a feeling of annoyance at the lack of sustenance, and then went back to sleep.

Maybe it didn’t have a perception of time yet.

***

The Beacon was mostly deserted at this time of the day because the guilds were still on strike, and would probably stay that way until Hunnigan’s policies were officially walked back. The counselor had been successfully impeached and even indicted, which was still a bit of a surprise but then he was a baseline and that made things easier. Nestra entered the massive hall with the confidence of someone with a lot of sudden and dubiously earned money. An employee in a neat suit met her before she could strut to the lobby’s desk. She was led at a brisk pace towards a large display room apparently meant for clan exhibitions. Boxes of armor waited on reinforced tables. The employee left to grab some help for the transport.

The first box released a piece of armor designed for someone missing a left arm.

“Alright. Looks good to me.”

Her Skin stirred but Nestra wasn’t comfortable having it eat here, even with cameras off. The Bridge World’s portal was just below. Who knew what kind of high tech sensors they had to detect, well, she didn’t know what. While she waited, her gaze traveled to an abandoned pad used for advertisement purposes, containing a catalogue of everything they could deliver. Out of curiosity, Nestra opened it. There were quite a few high tech gizmos she could use during exploration, for example water purifiers shaped like a straw that could directly be planted into muddy water then sucked on, deployable tents the size of basketball when folded… Suddenly, she remembered that masked gleams technically had access to almost everything. Her fingers danced on the screen. She was going to be next to a hostile lizardman encampment. Hmmm…

There it was. Something that would leave a mark. The lizardmen would never see it coming. And it would be a great distraction. To help her escape, of course.

“I have an idea.”

Then she considered who she might meet in the bridge world.

“And I should probably get a gift too.”

***

“Ok, that’s done. One last question,” the officer said.

Nestra’s eyes narrowed. This felt like a trap.

“Do you believe Tanaka Hitomi’s action was justified? She was the one who initiated the fight.”

All of Nestra’s caution whispered to her ear that she should watch her wording. She grabbed the thing and threw it behind her shoulder.

“Yeah, I do, and I would have done it anyway. Only Shinran can authorize the removal of my mask. Anyone else trying is acting against the law. And just so that we’re clear: if someone else really forces the issue, Shinran won’t have to be involved.”

“Hm, hm,” the officer said. “A regrettable accident that won’t be allowed to happen again. Oh, and it was lucky that Valerian Nephrite was here to disable the APC drivers, hmm?”

The officer gave Nestra an amused glance. She wasn’t even sure she would be in trouble for anticipating an ambush. Probably not, but no reason to risk it.

“Uh huh.”

“Well that is all. I was advised not to bother you since you’ll be busy tomorrow.”

Nestra didn’t reply. She stood and left towards the mask testing center and the small personal spaces there. The training center was as fun as she remembered during testing, but now she also had one last thing to do.

“Time to feast.”

Nestra opened the first armor container. A nudge towards her Skin and the symbiote erupted into the normal world, warping space in a vortex of grinding teeth. It devoured the piece of gear, and the padding on Nestra’ chest thickened.

“I hope you’re hungry because there’s more.”

Nestra thought the symbiote might need more time to synthesize new fabric but the creature bravely consumed piece after piece of armor. After two thirds of her collection, Nestra felt a change happen. The symbiote shivered. Something creaked. In a move that was graceful and horrifying, the dark fabric coalesced, fleshy scales flipping in position until black panes progressively emerged from Nestra’ torso. They formed a layer of shiny onyx.

Nestra had seen Sereth’s armor, of course. It was a bone monstrosity of white plates that reminded her of a skeleton, and so she’d expected her own to grow in a similar fashion. Shouldn’t they be the same species? But no. The thin armor covering her upper body was dark and serpentine. Focusing, she asked the Skin to move to protect one arm and her shoulders. The scales didn’t migrate so much as flip back in and then back out where they ought to be. Just looking at it made her brain give up trying to process what was happening. But at least it would protect her during tomorrow’s expedition. Back to the bridge world. There was a chance she could become the first human, sorry, the first person of human origin to walk the Lizardman homeworld. Nay, to walk on another planet! They might talk about her in history books. If she did it right. It would work. She had a secret weapon.

She would just show everyone.