Chapter Text
At dinner, she was a ghost among them. Kalida had worried about her sister, but Tano reassured them all: Ayda would be on her station, they would be going to her favorite place, they would honor her wishes that tables remain open to the station's residents while they were there, they would take the SecUnit. It slouched, calm, in the corner at a different table; thick book in its human hands, eyes blinking, sometimes smirking, sometimes shifting to itch behind its ear as it turned a page. Anyone who looked and did not know - but Thiago knew.
Thiago sat down the bench from her, so he saw the way Ayda's hand bunched tight in her caftan, anchored on her thigh. Her knuckles were mountains around the fabric. She hadn't been without one of the survey members yet until now, and certainly not anywhere without the construct. There was no talking to her alone, anymore. Thiago missed her.
"Have you read Councilor Roural's proposal for the fourth continent yet?" Tano asked. "We've been batting about theories as to what he'd recommend - something certainly to do with the southeast marshes - but none of us can figure his angle."
Ayda's gaze went feed-distant a few moments. "Not the marshes?" she seemed to ask, and then shook her head to come back. "I'm behind on my paperwork, but from the annotated brief I received, Councilor Roural's proposal is almost entirely concerned with rare metals in the mountains."
"The mountains?" Tano echoed.
"It was just released tonight. You can read it yourself," she said, and swiped the air to send the document to Tano's feed. The little drone near her shoulder loop-whirled itself out of the way.
Tano frowned. "Not at dinner."
"Entirely fair," Ayda said evenly, and accepted the water glass from the serverbot who had trundled closer. "Thank you," she said.
"You're welcome," it chirped, and reached its long arms out to Thiago and Kalida and Naima. As he took his own glass, Thiago watched Ayda rub the embroidery in her fingers and let go.
She took a small strip of testing paper out to hold in the water. The whole table fell silent. She did not look at anyone.
After some seconds, she handed it carefully to the drone, which pinched it in its gossamer needle arms and flew to the corner table where a hand waited for it to land.
Thiago felt a kick to his ankle and looked up to see his husband tap his own cheek with forceful eyes. Fix your face. Thiago grimaced and looked at the rest of the table, who were in turn looking at Ayda.
"Ayda, you've been here before," Tano said, half-gentle.
"Yes," she agreed.
Kalida pressed her lips together. "It's been eight cycles. Are you still-?"
"I have to be sure," Ayda said, like it cost her, and put her hands on the table.
They all sat quietly while the room bustled around them. Five seconds, ten seconds.
"Okay," Tano said, and leaned in to kiss her temple.
Ayda flinched.
She covered her face. "I'm sorry. Tano. I'm sorry, everyone," she said. She took a deep, shuddering breath and by the time she brought her hands down, her smile was back, cracked plaster though it was. "It's been the longest day. You've all come from so far to be here, and I'm just. Somewhere else."
Naima reached across the table meaning to touch Ayda, but Ayda lifted her fingers, no, please. Naima nodded, sympathetic, leaned instead into Kalida. "Ayda, honey, have you-"
"Naima," Kalida chided.
"I am worried, and I am allowed to worry. I am allowed to be worried about my sister-in-law. Ayda, you started the treatment?" she asked.
"It takes a few sessions sometimes," Ayda said.
"How many is a few?" Naima asked.
Ayda shook her head. "There’s no predicting how many. It can be anywhere from three to fifteen."
"For your sake, I hope it is closer to three," Naima said.
Tano stood. "I need some air," he said. He pushed past Ayda on the bench.
Ayda nodded, her eyes feed-distant again. "Come back soon?" she said aloud.
"I will," he said. But Tano’s eyes were closed the way he closed them to speak in the feed, and his shoulders firm as he stepped away.
"When does Farai get in?" Thiago asked her.
Ayda closed her eyes briefly. "Tomorrow," she said, like a prayer.
Good, Thiago thought.
And then, the little drone returned, pearly in the dim near her elbow. She looked down at it and it came up slow to land wing-light with all of its legs on the tip of her finger. A smile flickered over her face. She touched it once with her thumb and it lifted again to rest in the air above her shoulder, a sentinel, a shield.
"Thank you for waiting for my fears to be assuaged. Please, everyone," and she gestured with her eyes somewhere else.
In the corner, the SecUnit turned another page.
Thiago raised his glass and drank.