"You are cordially invited to the Legion's Anniversary party. Nothing to bring but yo' bad self. RSVP appreciated but not required. The Legion Party Squad (Tenzil, Chuck, Thom, Lyle, Ayla, Jazmin and Luornu)
I know you're busy but we'd really love to see you again -- Imra."
"Cham'd like news from the home front. And Lyle's setting up his MST3K room," M'Onel wheedled. He'd delivered the invitation personally, hoping to be persuasive.
Who's your groom?
"Ah, well... How can I refuse?"
The boring speeches were over, the music was starting, the synth bar was opening and Brainiac 5 was getting ready to party hard. His step was so springy, he practically bounced down the hall, whistling, unable to keep the glow of anticipation off his face. He stepped into the room and faced the silent assembly, grinning widely. He anticipated at least five or six hours of uninterrupted time while the monkeys gyrated and got tanked or shagged or whatever else they thought of as 'having a good time.' If he was really fortunate, they'd party themselves into unconsciousness and he'd have all night. "Finally!" he crowed to the empty lab, locking the door behind him, "I can get some real work done!"
He found another one of Thom's stupid spy cameras and crushed it, then went around the lab, collecting what he needed to continue his nanobot experiments. Part of why they kept failing, he was certain, was because they needed his full attention. He set up and got to work, humming happily.
A couple of hours later, he was deeply engrossed in his work and hadn't once looked up from the microscope. "..beta register... beta register..." he muttered to himself, feeling about for it. "Ah, thank you... now, let's see... nope... oh, sprock it, where's that pulse dampener!" He reached for the instrument and nearly knocked over something that felt like glass. There was a sharp crack and the thing was set back and the pulse dampener was given to him. "Thank you... ah that's better... now then..."
It finally dawned on Querl that someone had been handing him things for at least thirty minutes. He looked up and saw that what had nearly knocked over was a glass of champagne that someone had set down on the lab bench. He snorted, then shrugged, picked it up and looked back into the scope, "What's the matter, Lyle? Party gotten boring already?"
"The person I wanted to visit with wasn't there."
Querl felt the champagne try to launch into his sinuses and swallowed hastily. "Laurel!?"
"Hee hee, that was classic!"
"What are you doing here?!"
"I was invited to the anniversary party."
"How'd you get in?!"
"Lyle gave me the codes."
"What'd he do that for?!"
"I extorted them out of him, after he forced me to watch Manos, the Hands of Fate. I needed to escape while I still had a few braincells intact."
"Hmm, after that puerile piece of 20th Century drivel, I suppose I don't blame you. But I'm really very busy right now."
"Yeah, I know. I won't bug you. I've been assisting you for the last forty-five minutes and you haven't said anything."
Querl frowned and fidgetted, not wanting to admit that he hadn't even noticed. "I do appreciate it, of course, but it's so seldom that I actually get any time to myself and so..."
"You're gonna send me back out there? Brainiac, I thought you liked me!" Laurel teased.
Ouch. Therein lay the problem: He did like her -- too much. And she was pouting. And she was the only one who didn't call him 'Brainy.' He sighed, "Oh very well. Run these through the oscilliscope, then, and shut them down if they go above 51.9."
"And if they don't?"
"Let them run until they do and record how long it takes," he turned back to his microscope and tried to focus again, knowing he wouldn't achieve his pure concentration again. Sister Andromeda - she was still Laurel Gand, in his heart - was a distraction by nature. Why'd she have to be here? If she had to be here, why couldn't she have stayed out with the party? ...oh right, xenophobe, buncha rowdy monkeys, might've been feeling overwhelmed... Very well then, but why couldn't she have bugged somebody else? What did she mean by 'the person she came to visit wasn't at the party?'
He blinked and looked back at her, "...You came here to see me?"
Took him long enough, Laurel thought, grinning. "Yes."
He blinked a few more times. "...Why?"
"Just a minute, these are getting very close..." her voice trailed off as she bent further over the oscilliscope.
...Right. Querl looked back into the microscope and was soon drawn back into watching the nanobot evolution.
If they could be sufficiently controlled, they had enormous potential, but thusfar the results had been unsatisfactory. This evolution was proceeding much too quickly. At this pace, the tiny machines would devastate organic matter. Nothing for it, then - another failure. He sent the electromagnetic pulse that would kill the evolution, then stretched. Glancing at the time, he saw that it was now well into evening. Hm. Time flies when you're having fun. The problem with having uninterrupted working time was one tended to stiffen up. And forget to eat, his stomach reminded him. Two choices, call it quits for the night or take a break and resume with another algorhythm? ...either way he'd have to deal with Laurel, who was still sitting by the oscilliscope, patiently awaiting his next instruction. He sighed. "Are you hungry?"
"I've been snacking on and off while we've been working. There's a plate beside you; I've been keeping it hot for you." Her eyes glowed momentarily and he realized he'd been smelling the samosas for some time.
He winced. "Sorry. I tend to get a bit focussed."
"Yeah I know. That's fine, I expected that. This is your 'you' time, after all," she smiled and handed him a cup of tea. "Here are the numbers."
He looked at the data while devouring a samosa. "Not bad, not bad. The evolution's still too fast but at least this shows we're heading in the right direction. Good, good.. What algorhythm was that? Ah, right, good, I know where to go from there."
"Not a total loss, then?"
He took a quick gulp of tea, "No, not at all. Another failure, but definitely not a loss."
"What result are you hoping for?" He launched into a long explanation, full of technical jargon. Laurel listened patiently, asking relevant questions and seeking clarification when needed. The more she seemed to understand what he was talking about, the more animated he became.
"I'm sorry, I've been talking your ear off," he said at last, a bit sheepishly, "It's getting late.. You must be tired?"
Laurel shook her head, "Nah, I'm fine. I'm still running on Durlan time."
"Ah... right. ...I haven't asked how you've been."
"I've been fine."
"Still working on Durla, I take it. Is that difficult for you?"
Laurel stretched and smiled, "It's a challenge but it's paid off marvellously. I've made a lot of progress there."
"And... what is it that you do?"
She shrugged, "Humanitarian work, diplomacy... stuff that wouldn't interest you."
Querl rolled his eyes and smirked, "Hey, I just spent half an hour blathering about nanobots, the least I can do is hear about what you like to do." Laurel laughed and started describing her mission work on Durla and in the surrounding systems. Querl had to admit, he really didn't know much about nuns in general, and precious little about the Sisters of the Eternal Cosmos. He'd expected, oh, giving alms, saving souls, running orphanages, praying a lot...
"All the ships are on the same network," Laurel was describing her favorite method of dispatching Khund fleets, "So I hacked into the system and told the central computer to lower the oxygen of the ships' atmospheres, just enough to knock 'em out, then I reprogrammed the route. The whole fleet wakes up halfway back to Khundia. Then it's just a matter of mopping up the ground troops." She refreshed her tea, took a sip and continued, "I've done that five times now. Last time I changed it to nitrous oxide - seventy-five ships full of laughing Khunds! The first time I did it, it took me ten minutes to hack in. I've gotten faster but they're finally getting 'clever'" - she mimed quotes, "And having their programmers scramble around with security, so it's taking me longer again."
"Hm, I have the latest Khund algorhythms. It shouldn't take me long to write a script for you. You're right, their idea of 'clever' isn't very."
"That would be much appreciated. Thanks!"
"I must admit, if contemplating the possible answers to the question of 'what do nuns do', 'running Khund blockades' isn't on the list."
Laurel grinned, "Hey, the relief supplies have to get through somehow! I'm frequently asked to do blockade runs. I'm famous for it - Sister Andromeda, Scourge of the Khunds." She laughed.
Querl snorted and smirked, then sighed, "Of all the things I might have thought you'd do with your life, being a nun was not one of them."
"Believe me, it was as much a surprise to me as to anybody else."
"You seem happy," he smiled, then hesitated, "I suppose... do you think you'd ever leave the order?"
"HA!! Well, that answers that question," she ignored his puzzled look, "To answer yours, no, I don't think I will. I am happy and I find my work fulfilling. And I'm making a lot of progress on my issues."
"That's good," he said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. Abruptly he turned away, closing up again. "Well, if you don't mind, it's quite late and I have to get back to work. I'm sure you can find your way back to the guest quarters."
Laurel grinned. When she was younger, she would have fallen for this. "No need. As I said, I'm running on Durlan time. I'm not tired yet."
"The next phase of my work is purely calculation. Although your assistance was appreciated, it is no longer required. ...I'll have that script for you in the morning," he added as an afterthought, "I assume that's what you wanted to speak to me about."
"Not at all. I came to visit you. I came to see you."
"..." He glanced at her, "Why?"
"I said I was making progress on my issues," she said dryly, "Plus I want your opinion on where I'm going wrong with my light-belt." She held up a length of fabric and circuitry.
He took it and examined it, "Light-belt?"
Sister Andromeda leaned her rump against the edge of the lab bench, propping her heel against the cupboard door and clasping her knee. "Well, everyone knows the Daxamite's weakness, right? Turn on the red sun lamps and presto, powerless Daxamite. So I thought - and I got the idea from your old forcefield belts, by the way - I thought, what about some sort of hidden light-belt that would emit yellow-spectrum rays and keep me powered up even under a red sun?"
"What's the problem?"
"It shines. Not hidden. Yeah I know, 'duh, light-belt.'"
"Visible light is only a small part of a star's electromagnetic spectrum. If it were the sole element contributing to Daxamite strength, you'd lose your powers in darkness, even with your 'solar battery' capabilities. In other words, you're on the right track. Ah, I see -- on the right track but going in the opposite direction."
"Eh?"
Querl pulled out his magnifier and soldering iron, "This won't take but a moment, I'll just add a few emitters and adjust the frequencies." A few minutes later, "Voila. Care to test it out?"
"Sure!" Laurel put the belt on and bounced over to the four-tonne plasma furnace, "Ready!" Querl turned on the red sun lamps and watched. As expected, Laurel picked up the furnace with ease, tossed it from hand to hand, then put it back down. "Squee!! Perfect! Exactly what I was after! Thank you!" She bounced back over to him and hugged him. Querl hugged back, too shocked to do anything else.
He knew he should draw back after a respectable couple of seconds, but he found that he just couldn't. What had he done to deserve this? (Although, truthfully, the more accurate question was usually "what had he done this time?") His attraction towards Laurel Gand had never made any sense to him and Metron knew, he'd tried to put it behind him for years. Yet as time went by, she became more and more appropriate. Her Khund solution and light-belt idea were examples: Her intelligence level might only be half of his, but she was using what she'd been given and that in itself put her ahead of half his Legion colleagues. It just wasn't fair that the only woman he'd ever loved was a xenophobic nun who, let's be frank here, didn't like him at all.
...who'd come expressly to visit him, had hugged him, still hadn't pulled away, and was purring quietly as he stroked his fingers through her hair. He must've missed a calculation somewhere, because something wasn't adding up. "...I thought you didn't like me?" he ventured.
Laurel chuckled low in her throat, "A couple of minutes ago, anyone would've thought you wanted me to leave." He wrestled with that in silence. "I gave a good impression of it, I'll admit," she said presently, "S'funny, because I used to think you didn't like me. You were always so sarcastic towards me and shutting me out."
Querl blushed and shifted uncomfortably, "Yes... well... that's..."
"Like today."
"Ah... er..." She still hadn't let go and neither had he. "So... You do like me?"
"I said I have issues."
"That's an issue?"
"When you grew up White Triangle?"
"Ah. Yes." He sighed. "...What was your question?"
"Hm?"
"When I asked if you'd ever leave your order, you said that answered your question. What question?"
"Ah. Whether you were still interested in me or not."
He blushed deeply, "...Oh. ...Yes."
Laurel chuckled, "You're fidgetting again. You'd almost think they were right about your gynophobia."
He leaned back and stared at her, "My... what?!?"
"Fear of women."
"Yes, I know what it means, thankyouverymuch. Who the sprock says I'm gynophobic?!"
"Just about everybody," Laurel laughed, "I heard that rumour started after you chased Ayla out of the lab after she tried to give you a shoulder rub."
"She didn't even ask, Laurel, she just started and it's not... You don't do that on Colu!"
Laurel was giggling, "I know. After I heard about it, I looked it up and just about died laughing. Poor girl must've had no clue what she was doing. Did she ever find out?"
"Not from me," Querl grumped, "And that doesn't make me a misogynist!"
"Gynophobe."
"Whatever!!" He sat fuming for a few moments while she giggled against his shoulder. "You know my betrothed mate tried to kill me?"
Laurel sat back in shock, "What?! Why?? ...no wait, that's a stupid question."
Querl smirked. "Her name is--was--Sharn Nux. She was hand-picked by the Council to be my life partner, and the mother of my inevitable child."
Laurel squinched up one cheek, reaching for her drink, "I have a problem with arranged marriage," she admitted.
"So did I," he half-smiled, wryly, "I wouldn't have had her with an all-over body condom AND my forcefield on full." Laurel had the misfortune of sipping her drink during that statement. Querl smirked, pleased. "She was bald."
"Lovely!"
"Not especially. She had a face like a fruit bat. And her voice? Well, it was quite pleasing, if you like the sound of cats being boiled alive..." By now Laurel was almost crying with laughter. "She was flat-chested, knock-kneed, utterly without anything resembling a sense of humour, and she sliced me open from groin to sternum."
Laurel stopped laughing. "Ouch."
"I told you she didn't have a sense of humour."
"They thought this would be a good mate for you why?"
Querl shrugged; he'd long wondered that himself. Sharn Nux had been a harridan even as a child and age hadn't mellowed her any. Neither of them had been happy with the news of being future bondmates. "To keep me in control, perhaps. We of the House of Dox have always been considered rather aberrant."
"I don't see why," said Laurel the Face of Perfect Innocence.
"I would thump you at this point, but it wouldn't be effective," Querl chuckled.
"So why'd she try to kill you?"
"Because I built Computo and she was an anti-AI agent."
"Oh, well, I can see where that could cause some tension in the relationship. It's no wonder you're gynophobic," Laurel said teasingly.
"I am not gynophobic!" Laurel giggled and he sighed - might as well come clean, before she got too close. If it drove her off again, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much. "It's not women I'm afraid of; it's me."
"What do you mean?"
He lowered his head and turned partially away, not wanting to see her face. "The House of Dox isn't pure," he admitted, "I have an ancestor - my great-grandmother - who wasn't Coluan. She was... something else. We never did learn what her species was called." He sighed, then described the conception of Lyrl Dox, his grandfather, then of his mother, Brainiac 4. Then, what little he knew of his own conception. By then, the small hairs were standing up along the back of Laurel's neck. "So you see, it's in our genetic heritage now, and I don't... Given the personalities of Brainiacs 3 and 4, I don't know if they had any choice or if it was genetic prompting. I just know that I couldn't live with myself, if I did something like that."
Does it make a difference? Does it truly make a difference if he's a halfbr...hybrid? He was then, he is now, he always will be. Is it really any worse than simply being alien, in the first place? Laurel told herself. The White Triangle condemned crossbreeding even more vehemently than merely being alien. She'd faced that down already; ultimately, this news didn't change anything. "Orange skin with white hair... Did she have red eyes and a crest of hair down her spine, do you know?" she asked.
"Stealth? Yes, I believe she did. She also had extraordinary healing abilities."
"So do you."
"As compared with Coluan normal, even with our medical technology - yes, but nothing like what Stealth was recorded as having. I take it you know something about this?"
"If she's from the species I'm thinking of, then I've met a few of them on my travels," Laurel said slowly. The Order's policies frowned on saying anything that would validate a person's fears about themselves, but this was a special case. "Most men have similar fears about their self-control... but you..." she sighed and admitted, "It's a valid concern. Those people are scary. They're a 'black widow' race. The females are capable of crossbreeding with a number of unrelated species and the offspring take the physical features of the fathers. I've... seen what was left of some of the males after..." She sighed again and sipped her drink, "They believe the males are a necessary evil - literally, they believe that males are evil and their religion teaches that, but I suspect that's a justification for... what comes naturally to them. They're hideously strong and blood, or any kind of violence, incites them. The females go into heat and seek out a mate. The males of the species..." She shook her head, "I'm sorry. If that's in the back pocket of your genes then.. yeah, your concern is justified."
Querl looked both despairing and relieved. "Well, now you know one of my secrets," he said sadly, "It's why I'm such a jerk - well, one of many reasons... You're right about inciting... violent emotion... So I do my best to act like a dick and keep people away so no one will ever want me, and thus avoid the whole issue."
"Oh, Querl..." Laurel reached out and hugged him close.
No one ever called him by his given name, not even Lyle. "And then you came into my life," he whispered, "I never figured on anything like that."
"Yeah... a Daxamite, how 'bout that," Laurel said thoughtfully.
"A xenophobic Daxamite."
"An invulnerable Daxamite."
"Nigh-invulnerable."
"SPOON!" they chorussed, then broke up laughing.
"Oh nass, I can't believe I remembered that!" Laurel laughed.
Querl grinned, "Lyle will be so proud."
She sat back and held both his hands. "I've fought them. The females are much stronger than the males, and I've bested them. And there ain't nothin' you can do to me." She saw him glance apprehensively at the red sun lamps and guessed what he was thinking. Invoking another one of Lyle's 20th-Century in-jokes, she put on a fake East European accent and said, "Vot hyu tink, I stupid or zomsing?!"
He got it and laughed. When he looked at her, his eyes were unguarded and vulnerable. "No. You're not stupid. You at least use the intelligence you have. You don't have stupid fixations or waste time or words frivilously... You just keep getting better," he looked away and whispered, "You're everything I never knew I wanted."
She hated the Truth Game because it made you face things about yourself and then you had to do something about them -- but that was why she had joined the order. So she and the other novices had tossed the ball around the ring, asking spontaneous questions and blurting out the answers. Sister Areala never knew what had made her say it; she had spoken her truth, then tossed the ball to Sister Andromeda, asking "Who's your groom?" The answers filed onto her tongue: What kind of question was that; she didn't know; she didn't have one; she had broken the betrothal and left him behind on Daxam...
... but that wasn't what came out.
Laurel got up and sat beside him, hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. "I know it hurt you when I quit the Legion," she said softly, "But I couldn't stay. There were a lot of reasons, but one of them was, it wasn't fair to you. I was hoping you would ask me why; I would have told you why. All of it."
He winced and looked down, "I don't think I handled that very well. I'm sorry."
She sighed and admitted, "I liked you, a lot... and I couldn't deal with that. I hated myself for feeling attracted to you and I hated you for making me feel that way. I had a lot of issues to work through. That's why I joined the Order. I didn't join for the religion, I joined because they offered the means I needed to make the changes I needed to make. But it was going to take a lot of time and there was no guarantee... You have your own life to live, there might have been someone else come along... I couldn't make you wait for something that might never happen. That's why I didn't visit very often - I couldn't keep breaking your heart every time I left again." She slipped her arm around his waist and felt him return the gesture.
"And... since you're here... have you dealt with it to your satisfaction?"
"...There's only one way to find out." She tilted her chin, and in her mind's ear, heard her White Triangle ancestors turn in their graves.
"How was that?" Querl asked softly, when they finally came up for air.
"Hmm... I don't know... That might have been a fluke."
"True. One cannot draw satisfactory conclusions based on a single experiment. That's not proper scientific procedure."
"We need to research more."
"Further experiments are called for."
"We'll have to vary the procedures, to account for every variable."
"I like the way you think."
Laurel giggled and rested her cheek on the top of Querl's head. "I haven't had a hug since I left Daxam," she reflected.
"You can have all the hugs you want," he told her, nestled beneath her ear.
"I might get greedy."
"I might too."
The locks released, the lab door spiralled open and Lyle Norg sauntered in calling "MORRRRRRNING!!!!" He moved to his habitual bench and started pulling bottles out of the cabinets. "Thought I'd come in and help you set up for the Legion of Super Hangovers," he said, "The first survivors are already trickling in to see Dr. Gym'll." Not hearing the expected snarky answer, Lyle turned, "Hel-lo?" He reached for his holographer to snap a pic.
"I'll get you for that later, Norg," Brainy murmured from his position beneath Andromeda's chin.
"And what have you two been doing, locked inside an empty lab all night unsupervised, hmmmmmmmmmmm?" Lyle teased.
"We just talked."
"'Just talked', uh huh. Well it can't have been too exciting, you've still got your clothes on."
"We just talked. Can't you tell by the clear air?"
Andromeda giggled and Lyle grinned, "You look pretty happy for a couple who 'just talked.'"
"I guess we liked what we heard," Andromeda smiled and nuzzled Brainy's hair.
"Who's your groom?" Then the ball hit her hands and she spoke her Truth.
"...Querl Dox."