A Closed and Common Orbit (Wayfarers #2)(22)
Sidra eyed the line stretching far back beyond them. ‘This is one of the smaller celebrations?’ she asked.
‘Yeah.’ Blue nodded. ‘The, um, the ones on the light side are huge.’
‘They’re also a complete clusterf*ck,’ Pepper added, ‘and entirely tourists. Everybody here’ – she pointed up and down the line – ‘either lives here or is with someone who does. I also know folks who run this place, which is a big bonus.’
‘We also th-thought an indoor venue would be more comfortable,’ Blue said, smiling at Sidra.
Sidra was a little embarrassed to realise he meant more comfortable for her, but she was grateful, too. This was her first holiday. She didn’t want to spoil the fun for Pepper and Blue by not having a good time herself.
As the line moved forward, Sidra picked up the first sign of an acquired multicultural tradition: music. A species without a sense of hearing had no need for a soundtrack, but clearly they’d gotten the memo that other people couldn’t imagine a party without it. Sidra enjoyed the thump of the drums, the jangle and swing laced through. She liked the patterns within the sounds, the way they made organics move.
The non-Aeluon celebrants they shared the line with were following their host species’ lead as well. With few exceptions, everyone arriving at the event was wearing at least one item in a shade of grey – a hue that, on an Aeluon, would make the colours on their ever-changing cheek patches stand out all the more. For other species, any sort of grey would do, but for Aeluons, more traditional rules were at play. Among their galactic neighbours, Aeluons used the usual set of male-female-neutral pronouns that any species would understand. But among themselves, they were a four-gendered society. At Shimmerquick, their clothing reflected this: black for those who produced eggs, white for those who fertilised them, dark grey for the shons, who cyclically shifted reproductive roles, and light grey for those who could do neither. It was striking to see such a delineated display in a species whose sexual dimorphism was relatively slight compared to other species, and whose apparel had little to no gender distinction on any other day.
Even though the clothing cues could not be missed, Sidra was glad she had downloaded additional social references before leaving home, as the latter two genders were impossible to distinguish through physical features alone. Shons changed reproductive function multiple times throughout a standard, and were always considered fully male or female, depending on the current situation. Calling a shon by a neutral pronoun was considered an insult, unless they were in the middle of a shift. Such terms were reserved for those too young, too old, or simply unable to procreate. As neutral adults of breeding age looked exactly like their fertile counterparts, they generally did not mind the assumptions of other species where gendered pronouns were concerned, but appreciated it when the correct terms were used. Despite knowing that the kit’s Human appearance would absolve her of any pronoun mishaps, Sidra appreciated the colour-coded clothing. She loathed the idea of getting such things wrong.
Sidra glanced down at what the kit was wearing: a top printed with white and grey triangles, a darker grey pair of trousers, and a close-cut jacket, to give the impression that dark side’s cold air affected her. Sidra’s picks, Pepper’s credits. Sidra had felt awkward about that, as she was beginning to feel about most purchases made for her benefit. Her hosts didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, but she wasn’t sure what she was providing them with in return, other than potential trouble.
Blue patted down his pockets as the line crept forward. ‘Ah, damn. I forgot my – my—’
Pepper reached into her pocket and presented a packet of mints. Blue accepted it with a grin and a kiss. Sidra swung the kit’s eyes away, letting them have their moment. It seemed like a nice sort of thing to have.
They reached the door at last, and two young Aeluons greeted them – a boy and a girl, both clad in neutral grey. A painted stripe of the same colour hugged the lower edges of their iridescent cheek patches. The talkboxes in their throats and speech-processing implants in their foreheads were far less decorative than the ones worn by adults, but this made sense. These implants were temporary, and would be swapped out as the children grew.
‘Shimmer quick and shimmer often, friends!’ the boy said with practised pomp. Xyr silver skin was heavily dusted with glitter, and the pulsing blue in xyr cheeks indicated xe took pride in xyr role that evening. ‘How many are you?’
‘Three,’ Pepper said, holding out her wristpatch. Blue did the same, as did Sidra.
The boy scanned their wrists in turn, while the girl picked up a pot of light grey face paint and gestured the Humans forward. She had three other pots on hand, each coloured for a respective gender. Pepper bent down. The girl stuck xyr delicate thumb in the pot, then drew a thick, short line along each side of Pepper’s jaw – the rough equivalent of where her cheek patches would end, if she had any. Sidra noted the symbolism with keen interest as the same was repeated for Blue, then herself. She and her friends were being designated as the equivalent of neutral Aeluons for the evening, and with the exception of children, neutrals were welcome partners in romantic relationships. Mainstream Aeluon aversion to interspecies coupling was known far and wide, and given that the taboo stemmed from a concern regarding the ability to further the species, marking aliens as potential sexual partners at a fertility festival was a bold statement. Such a gesture would not have been made in, say, the Aeluon capital of Sohep Frie, or likely even the gatherings on Coriol’s light side. The Aeluons in attendance at the Aurora were clearly of a more radical stance than most of their peers. Sidra was beginning to understand why Pepper and Blue had chosen this party.