Meet the Parents
Claiming the cathedral as her residence was easier than Rhea expected. With no owners on record, including Satyrine, all she had to do was to obtain the deed, claim it and make some improvements.
And get some new locks on the doors, she thought to herself.
Only the other day she’d arrived to find religious converts wandering around in the former sanctuary. The only answers she could get out of them were inexplicable. “The site of the Kaleidoscopic Void,” they’d called it, but they had provided no further details.
If there were going to be squatters on that property, she was going to ensure she was the only one who could get in. Well, and Ward, but doors and locks don’t seem to dissuade him in his current state.
At Indra’s she tapped into the Noösphere to leave a secured message for Jules. “Hey Jules, I heard you were back from your trip. Want to go for coffee sometime soon?”
Jules responded almost immediately. “I don’t have a good time for coffee soon, so why not come by for dinner at my place instead?”
“That sounds great. Where’s your place?”
“404 Hod Blvd, Marquis Quarter.”
Rhea assured him she’d be there, and disconnected. Then she hailed a cab and headed to the Reinvention.
Chalmara House in the Reinvention District was considered the most beautiful universally hated place in Satyrine. The galleries of art displayed in almost aggressive prominence throughout the building showed the most gorgeous images, sculptures, and renderings of art imaginable; but walking in, Rhea could almost feel herself being evaluated against a standard she hadn’t agreed to. It was a relief from the oppressive atmosphere when she finally found Qiuxia, but that was short-lived.
“What do you mean, you can’t come look at them yet?” Qiuxia asked, a disapproving look pulling the edges of her mouth into a perfect frown.
“I know, I know we talked about it before, but I needed to let you know that I have some particularly time sensitive business which I need to get sorted first.” Rhea explained. “Don’t worry, we’ll be able to fit it in soon. They’re not going anywhere, after all. And I do want to see them”
“Rhea,” Qiuxia chided, “it’s important for you to understand the beauty of the ideal. The Legacy is surely the most important thing to focus on, and you know little of it yet. There’s so much for you to see…” She shook her head, her face the image of a mother exasperated with their child. “Very well, I suppose we can put off the exhibition. But please, don’t delay. I wish to know as soon as you may come back for a proper tour Satyrine’s art.”
“I’ll let you know,” Rhea said.
Crossing the full length of Satyrine was an adventure people preferred to avoid whenever possible. Ruins and their denizens of unlawfulness filled in gaps between the protected districts. It was a depressing sight at the best of times, and the last sight on the very worst.
It looked a lot better from an aerial view, Rhea decided, looking out the window of her carrier. At least from up here, the full extent of the broken and decayed remnants of the past war could be glossed over, opting instead for mere chromatic monotony. Greys bled into browns and dusty reds as roads bled into wood and brick rubble.
It still wasn’t a sight worth looking at for long, and the travel to Seagate docks made Rhea desperately need to stretch her legs by the time she landed in Riverriver.
The docks were full of all sorts, from the dockworkers and seamen to the minstrels and less refined entertainers docks always attracted. But if the people were varied, the ships were more so. One seemed less like a ship and more like a chariot, a team of large jellyfish harnessed to the front. Nearby, engines rumbled, spitting clay into the air as transmutation propellers powered down on a ship that seemed more like a steam engine with teeth. Still another she could barely call a ship with a straight face, it being mostly constructed of long logs lashed together with vines on which had no sail, but instead there was a bubble maker big enough to house a family of three sitting in the middle of the logs. Rhea couldn’t begin to guess how it functioned. Then again, it also wasn’t her target.
She ducked and swerved her way around the crowded pier, heading towards a ship like an old fashioned sloop from Shadow that was docked and unloading cargo. One man stood giving orders to four others in the harsh tones of one who, since he can’t rest yet himself, must spread his displeasure with a large shovel. His short beard was barely noticeable below that huge shaggy mane of hair spilling down his shoulders underneath his hat. He wore no shirt under his vest, sweat glistening off his skin in the sunlight. “Aesop!” Rhea called, drawing his attention.
He finished his shouting, and then turned to her with a lopsided grin. “Took your time coming, didn’t you.” he said.
Rhea shrugged. “I was all the way across town. Heard a rumor you might have something for me here today.”
He nodded, leaning in. “Small box of special stuff,” he confided, “just happened across it, gods know where, looked like it needed a master for a while. I’m thinking you’ll make a better mistress to the material though.” He inclined his head to the ship. “Come aboard, let’s see if you like it.”
Rhea followed him up on deck and back to his cabin. He took out a ring of keys, started to insert one into a cupboard on the back, then he paused, and said, “No, it’s Triumdies,” and selected a different key. The lock clicked open, and he pulled out a small box.
“Shut the door,” he said quietly. “The men know of it, of course, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself.”
As soon as she did, he opened the box to show a lovely quantity of emotion leaves. At least eight different emotions were present, and multiples of several. “This looks quite satisfactory.” Rhea said, closing the box again. “Next time at Zardim?”
He nodded. “But we might have to revisit the order of meeting points soon. We might be moving around already, but I don’t want this to get predictable. The Consortium isn’t lenient, even if they can’t make it illegal yet.” He gave her a frank look. “Just be careful, all right? I’m only doing this for you because Indra put in a good word you know.”
“And I’m sure our client is deeply grateful to you for it.” Rhea soothed him.
He grunted. “‘S a good thing I have going, my line of work. I don’t want too many prying eyes, that’s all I’m saying. Don’t go leading ‘em back to me, the Heptad’s got troubles enough.”
“I won’t.” Rhea answered, picking up the package. “You’re the best, Aesop, see you again,” she called over her shoulder as she walked away.
“Yeah, yeah, just don’t let it get too well known,” Aesop grumbled, turning back to his men.
Delivering to Somberg always made Rhea feel uneasy. The embargo against him prevented all but the most subtle of communications, and each time she placed his packages at the dead drop location she felt like someone was looking over her shoulder.
Of course, that was true. Metaphorically, at least. The imposing edifice of the Emotion Mills Consortium office had an air of oppressive aristocracy as much as successful business. It loomed large as a structure, but even larger with its influence. The monopoly on the emotion leaf supply that they’d gained had forced many people to find more accommodating locales to ply their trades, and some had been pushed down so heavily they never recovered.
Rhea had once counted six For Sale or Lease signs on a single street, and that was months ago. Not one of them had been removed, and all of them looked much older than that. Some had fallen into disrepair, the previous owners of the buildings having obviously abandoned any hope that the winds would change in their favor. Others merely gathered dust as the street ignored them, passersby having ceased to notice the words as they were relegated to mere scenery.
She rounded the final corner and bent down, pulling a loose brick from the wall and stuffing her box into the space behind. She replaced the brick quickly, straightened up, and walked on before anyone had a chance to see she’d even paused. The routine of the movements was nearly unconscious at this point, as was her walk to a park bench across the street from a three-floor apartment. She sat down and gave herself a chance to look up, admiring the birds and origami butterflies that populated the urban skies.
Somberg was a genius, she thought, but one who just had no idea how the world worked. As the fragile wings flitted above her head, it seemed not for the first time that they represented him well. A life of incredible beauty, an exquisite work of art, but needed to be protected or it would be torn to shreds in an afternoon rain.
She wove a butterfly of smoke, sending it flitting amongst the real ones of paper. It moved like all the others, but its monochrome drab almost seemed a blot on the skyscape. She sighed.
Somberg had reverse-engineered the process of creating emotion leaves. It was simple, reproducible, and would allow for a significant increase to the availability on the market. He’d been so proud of himself, telling Rhea that this would mean so much good for those who used them. He’d never considered the effects of such a discovery on a company bent on control.
She’d managed to protect him from major consequences to this point, but it continued to rely on him exercising a measure of prudence and caution. That was something she couldn’t always guarantee. She hoped he’d continue to follow her instructions this time.
A window-shade rose and fell three times in Somberg’s apartment. He’d seen the butterfly. Rhea relaxed and let the butterfly float for another five minutes before dissolving it. She stretched, rose, and headed to Fartown. Marweg would be expecting her soon
“Oh, dear me, no,” Marweg laughed, “you don’t seem to understand these people at all.”
“What is it I don’t understand?” Rhea retorted. She sat with Marweg on his porch some hours later, drinking a lovely herbal tea. The sound of the pushmi-pullyus grazing audible, but not visible in a stamwards section of his grounds.
“It won’t do to go to the Marquis Quarter in just your everyday clothes for a social call!” He said, still chuckling. “These are people who are rooted in the upper class. Their expectation of people around them is that they will be well groomed, well dressed, on time, and courteous even in their insults.” He shook his head. “Honestly, your somewhat blunt nature and tendency towards the utilitarian in your possessions aren’t likely to gel well at all.”
‘If it’s not useful, and I can’t carry it, it goes.” she retorted. “I haven’t had a place where I’ve wanted to set down roots since I came back to the Actuality. Even now, the old cathedral is kind of just a place I’m stopping for as long as its useful. I just think it’ll be useful long enough to make it an official address.”
“Notwithstanding,” Marweg noted, “you are definitely going to want to brush up and create a good impression. His family is quite well off.” He got up, gesturing to her cup. “Would you like a little more tea?” he asked. “Perhaps a biscuit?”
Rhea declined the tea, and accepted a biscuit as she gathered herself to leave. “Thanks for the advice, Marweg.” she said. “I’ll try to dress up a bit.”
“Good, good.” Marweg approved. “The Marquis Quarter always felt a bit unnerving to me if I was a bit scruffy. I’m not rich enough to let myself go.” He held out a hand to help, but she shooed it away. “Reputation is everything to these people, you see,” he said, tacitly surrendering, “they trade as much on who they are in their business dealings as they do on what they own.”
“Anyone on your mind in particular?” Rhea asked, smoothing out a few wrinkles in her clothing.
“Yes, actually,” Marweg said, “I got your message ahead of time and checked the Goetic Hall of Records. It seems that address also corresponds to the ownership of Jules’ parents, a couple who go by the names of Judit and Lefteris. They’re members of the board for the Emotion Mills Consortium. Quite a posh gig, really.”
Rhea stood stockstill for a moment, then forced a smile on her face. “T-thanks for looking into that, I appreciate it.” she said, a little hesitantly. “But I’ve really got to get going. If I’m to get there on time, I’ll have to see to my appearance, apparently.”
“I understand.” Marweg said. “I always have trouble deciding what to wear when I go there. The good news is that I’ll have more reason to do so soon.” He beamed. “I don’t know if I told you, but I was accepted into the Lattice Vitale. It’s a dream come true.” Joy exuded from every pore.
Rhea didn’t have the heart to tell him that he’d already mentioned it twice that visit. She waved goodbye and left as cheerfully as she could. It wasn’t until three blocks later that she let herself sag against the wall in shock.
“404 Hod Street, Marquis Quarter.” The automated taxi doors opened, depositing Rhea on the sidewalk facing a tall building that looked more like a five-star hotel than a residence. She walked into the lobby to see a vaulted ceiling and walls covered in polished wood, offset by a patterned wood inlay in the floor that complimented the walls beautifully. A staircase stood opposite the entryway, tapering to a landing before gently spiralling to either side around to the next floor. Soft lights glittered through tasteful fixtures ornamented with crystal, refracting rainbows that changed as she walked past. Everywhere she looked, the air was thick with opulence.
Rhea looked down at her own garments. The dress was among the fanciest she owned, and she’d put on a nice shoulder covering for warmth, but Marweg had had a point. She felt woefully underdressed.
Still, there was nothing for it. She approached the staircase where an elderbrin stood in uniform. “Where do I find Jules’ residence?” she asked.
The elderbrin inclined its head and pointed to the side where an elevator nestled in between exotic plants. “Instruct the operator to send you to the penthouse suite.” it said.
Rhea thanked it and approached the elevator. An avian figure dressed in a similar uniform opened the doors as she approached. “Where might I take you?” it asked.
“That one said to the penthouse suite,” Rhea answered, “I’m supposed to meet Jules.”
It nodded, gesturing for Rhea to enter. She stepped inside and nearly tripped as it gave like a sponged beneath her. She looked down.
It was a leaf. There were no buttons on the walls, and a light breeze ruffled her half. The door slipped closed behind her and the avian, and the elevator began its smooth ride to the top floors.
When it opened, she saw a marble hallway lined with both impressionist and abstract art. The avian bid her farewell, closed the door behind her, and descended.
The hall soon opened into a lounge free from both dust and clutter. Every surface seemed polished, every ornament in their place. Statues lined sections of the wall. Thoughtforms moved smoothly about their business setting cutlery and dishes for a meal on a table at one end. At the other end sat couches that looked like their designer had intended them to be looked at more than sat on, but nevertheless, Jules occupied one. He was reading while his feet lay propped up on the opposite armrest. He must have heard her, because he suddenly glanced up towards the hall.
“Hey, Jules.” Rhea said casually.
He put the book down, swung his feet under him, and got up. “Rhea, it’s good to see you. You look wonderful.” He gestured to the chairs. “Please, make yourself at home.”
A slight flush colored Rhea’s cheeks as she entered and found a seat that tried its best to feel comfortable.
“Oh, not there, dinner’s ready. We can go sit down right away. Can I hang up the shawl for you?” asked Jules. “And would you like a drink? There’s a lovely juice mix we’ve got right now I highly recommend.”
“That’d be fine,” Rhea said, pulling off her cover and finding a seat at the table. As Jules took it away to hang it up, she looked at the meal she’d been served.
She couldn’t recognize anything. Each dish had been stylized and crafted in such exquisite form that whatever original shapes the plants or animals involved had been given were long since lost. The platters were decorated with artistically carved vegetables. The meats made her mouth water at the savory smells assailing her nose. A dish filled with fruit had been arranged as though it intended to win an art contest. A gorgeous fine pottery tureen let off billows of steam as a thoughtform opened it to serve her.
Jules returned and grinned at the sight of her expression. “Shall we eat?” he asked.
Rhea agreed heartily, and they both sat down and enjoyed themselves.
“How was the return journey?” he asked after they’d been comfortably started.
“More dramatic than I’d have liked,” she responded. “Nightside Green is pretty intense.”
Jules face lit up. “Oh? Why do you say?”
“We dropped into an area that was particularly wild.” she answered. “My roommate…” She paused and reconsidered her train of thought. Some things were personal, after all. “He’ll be fine eventually, it’s not really my story to tell.” She tried the soup; it was delicious. “I take it your own experience was less fraught with terror.”
“Much,” he agreed. “Honestly, we were hardly let out of the compound. It was quite underwhelming, bordering on tedium. But now I get the best of both worlds.” He winked at her. “The comfort of safari lodgings and your stories of first-hand experience. Come, there must be something you can tell me.”
Rhea grinned and began to regale him with the crocodilian thrash attacking the branch-headed giraffes. Her excitement grew in the telling while his eyes grew wider and wider, and for several minutes both of them forgot to eat. They realized this at the same time and tried to give their meal some attention as well.
“There was a fair amount of terror involved,” Rhea confessed, forgetting her mouth was half full.
“I’ll bet,” Jules said emphatically, stabbing a disguised potato with enthusiasm. “I wish I’d been there,” he added wistfully.
Rhea shook her head firmly. “Be glad you weren’t. There’s no telling how much worse things could’ve gotten.”
She told him about the mellified monstrosity and the coatl bite she suffered, but noticed his attention began to wane. “Sorry,” she apologized, “I’m monopolizing conversation, that’s rude of me. How goes your degree? Have you got plans to finish it?”
He swallowed and put down his fork. “That’s actually one reason I wanted to speak to you.” he answered. “You see, I’m getting tapped for a lot of potential responsibility, and I don’t think I’m either fit or capable to take it all on myself. In my view, you’d be a very productive collaborator, and if you were amenable, I’d like to show you some of what it looks like.”
Rhea slowly nodded her head, confused. “Okay,” she said, “but what are we talking about here exactly?”
Jules opened his mouth to speak when the door to the elevator opened and raised voices bounced off the marble walls. He closed his mouth like a trap and turned towards the entryway.
“No, my dear, I don’t think I can keep pressing the issue,” a deeper male voice said defensively.
“Nonsense,” stated a prim female voice full of steel. “If we take decisive action soon, there will be immense possibilities for us. You’re giving up just when they’re about to give way.”
“You can’t possibly know that,” the man began only to be cut off.
“Of course I can. The ministries are weak, they’re disorganized, and they’re ripe for exploitation. Now is the time to act, to press your advantage and destabilize them-”
Jules coughed and the couple stopped their argument as they came into view. Rhea saw a balding, middle aged man with a slight rotundity dressed in a fashionably cut business suit with jewelled cufflinks winking as he turned his arms, his face poorly masking his tiredness and anxiety. Next to him, and slightly shorter, stood a lady with short, sensible hair with the bangs swept to one side, a severe but pleasing figure, and a dress with silver embroidery around the shallow v-neck framing a necklace of pearls. Her smile was broad, but her eyes were hard. She directed them to Jules.
He stood up. “Rhea, may I introduce you to my mom and dad, Judit and Lefteris.”
Lefteris stepped forward and shook Rhea’s hand with pleasure and relief. “Charmed to meet you, I’m sure.” he said. “And how do you come to know our son?”
“We actually knew each other in Shadow,” Rhea said, “and we recognized each other in Nightside Blue.”
“Delightful,” he replied, “I daresay it doesn’t happen often, does it? It’s not common for people to remember their Shadow acquaintances.”
“Most unusual,” Judit said, extending her hand to Rhea.
“Do you live in the neighborhood, then?” Lefteris asked.
Rhea shook her head. “I’ve been trying to find a place to settle down, actually.”
“Oh.” Lefteris’ eyebrows rose in surprise. “You didn’t have a place already?”
“Well, not that I remembered,” Rhea said frankly.
“If you need to dig around in the hall of records, we could see whether you left yourself something from before,” Lefteris remarked. “People do hide things away, even from themselves. There’s bound to be something there for you, perhaps an old deed to a property. You might be well off and not yet know it. “I take it you are a vislae, aren’t you? It’s not many nons who’ve been to Shadow and back.”
Rhea acknowledged that she was.
“Hang on, you said you’d met up in Blue, and you’re just back from Shadow?” Lefteris queried. “What brought you out that way?”
Rhea deflected the question. “Purely a fortunate happenstance brought on by some required travel.”
“Nothing wrong with a holiday before taking on some more serious work, is there dear?” Judit replied, giving her husband’s hand a squeeze.
Lefteris’ discomfort was plain to Rhea, but he tried to laugh it off. “Of course, but nothing really beats a well-deserved break from routine. Wonderfully refreshing.” He glanced at Jules. “You’ll know soon enough, son.”
“Although I do hope you’ll take things more seriously soon,” his mother said. Heavy stress on you’ll, Rhea noticed. “You can’t expect to get anywhere if you aren’t willing to seize your chances.”
Lefteris grin faltered, stung. “Let’s not overwhelm his, my dear, he’s got some large steps ahead of him already.” he said, his face growing tight.
Jules nodded in agreement. “I do, in fact have some large steps to come, but I think the most immediate steps will take the form of a stroll, if you’d be so kind to join me, Rhea?” He shot her an apologetic look, and then faced his parents again. “You both have had a long day, and probably need a chance to relax. Please, don’t let me stop you from doing that. We’ve just finished our meal,” he said, indicating mostly eaten desserts on the table, “and it might do us well to enjoy the fresh air.”
Judit wore a disapproving expression at her son’s attempted exit, but was gracious enough not to push too hard before a guest. Lefteris looked pained, as though he’d lost a protective barrier. With a few formal courtesies, Jules and Rhea made their way to the elevator and exited to they busy streets of the Marquis Quarter.
It wasn’t until they’d set foot outside that Jules exhaled heavily. “I’m so sorry about that,” he apologized, “I thought they weren’t coming back until late this evening!”
Rhea squeezed his hand. “I guess that’s the responsibility you were referring to.” she guessed.
Jules nodded emphatically. “My dad is stepping down from the board. He and mom have bickered over what he’ll do afterwards for months now, but they both want me to step into his position. If I took some appropriate training and was available, I’d be all but guaranteed to take his place.” He frowned as they walked, staring inwardly. “I’m not sure I want to do that.”
“They’ve been pressuring you to finish your degree, then?” Rhea asked. “It sounds like they’re expecting the world from you.”
Jules laughed ruefully. “It is a lot. The EMC has more layers than I would’ve guessed. Frankly, I don’t think the sale of emotion leaves even accounts for a tenth of the income nowadays. Far more money has been put into investments, regulation, and governance. It’s an uneasy perch between government and business, trying to be both but not quite either anymore. It lacks the mandate of a governing body, but it’s still trying to act like one.”
Rhea whistled, her thoughts running on overdrive. “Sounds challenging,” she managed.
“It is, and it’s challenging for everyone.” Jules agreed. “There’s an absence of oversight sometimes which allows the EMC to throw its weight around, but sometimes they just prefer their own brand to what was present locally.” He paused. “I don’t know if I’m making much sense here, so let me put it like this. No one really likes rule by the mob, but rule by the consortium’s not much of an improvement.”
Rhea considered all this for a while, silence sitting between them as they crossed a street and turned down another thoroughfare. “So what would you need from me, if I were to work with you?”
“I’ve had to go through mountains of paperwork,” Jules grimaced, “sorting out decades of minutes trying to determine who’s supported or opposed whom in what decisions the board has made for various topics. I’m trying to get a sense of the flow of power through the board. You know, what their internal dynamics are like, and how they respond to external stimuli.”
“Sounds insanely boring.” Rhea laughed.
“It is.” Jules agreed fervently.
“But useful.” she added.
He turned to look at her. “Rhea, I don’t want an answer right away. I’m still not sure exactly where I stand on it all. But I do want you to know that if that is something you’d be interested in, you’d get first dibs on the position.” A mischievous look lit his eyes. “You’d be well compensated; you could probably renovate that old cathedral of yours completely.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” Rhea said, “your dad something about the hall of records and a deed? Could you help me arrange a time to go look for that?”
“Sure, I’d be glad to.” he replied.
“Thanks.” she said. She reached for his hand and held it tenderly. “I really do appreciate the offer, but I need to talk to Indra first, I think. She’s the head of my weaver cell, and I’d want her opinions on it.”
“Take all the time you need,” he said, returning the tenderness with a shoulder hug. “Perhaps we could also consider following my dad’s advice and plan a little holiday sometime?”
“I’d like that.” Rhea said.
When Indra heard Rhea’s news, she got wildly excited. “I’ve been trying to make sense of their inner workings for ages!” she exclaimed. “I always knew they were branching into more avenues than they let on. I’m not going to say you have to take the position, but I would love to get a glimpse into the consortium’s core.”
Rhea explained that the position was not even guaranteed to exist at this point, as it depended not only on her, but on Jules as well. Indra agreed that enthusiasm needed to be tempered, and recommended that she speak with Aesop. “This will affect him as much as any of Spiderskein,” she explained, “so it would be better to let him know how things develop.”
“I think I need to cut way back on my emotion leaf distribution, Aesop.” said Rhea in apology. At least I won’t deal so much while I’m this close to Jules parents, she thought. “I might have an in on a position that’ll give me some insight into the EMC’s bureaucracy.”
Aesop grunted. “Your timing couldn’t be much better. Emotion leaves are yesterday’s news. Mirror shards and reflections, that’s where the money is now.” He hauled another box off his ship and down to the dock as Rhea followed him. “I was going to ask if you wanted to switch over anyways. I’ve got some goods, I could hook you up.”