Early posting, since I'll be fairly busy in the next few weeks. Continuing the Sad Saga of Saya & Co. as they grapple with the aftermath of Joel's death, and Red Shield's tenuous future. Lots more shenanigans with Chiropteran-biology too, so do let me know how bizarre or believable it turns out.
Review, pretty please! :)
Les Ambassadeurs is a Rococo jewelry box.
A favorite of Red Shield's upper-echelon, it is decorated in gold-and-marble inlay, filigreed mirrors, crystal chandeliers, and tables and chairs in whipped creams and chocolate browns. The high ceiling is done in the trompe l'oeil fashion, with a fresco of cloudy blue sky that is reminiscent of the Sistine Chapel.
The entire place has been booked out for the meeting; the only extras in the room are the discreet waitstaff.
And a familiar face or two.
"Sayaaaaaa!"
Stepping into the elegant bar lounge, Saya hears a happy squeal. Then a blur of black-and-purple slams into her. Catching the newcomer's shoulders, Saya goggles.
"Lulu!?"
The little Schiff looks older than the photo on David's cellphone. Taller too; she and Saya are about the same height. She is bundled in an oversized black jersey-dress, its long sleeves reaching to her fingertips. Her purple hair is in girlish pigtails with colorful seashells woven through the strands. Her cheeks and nose are splotched pink. Wherever she was recently, she's gotten sunburned.
Which beats getting flambéed.
"God," Saya breathes. "You're all grown up."
Lulu wrinkles her nose. "I haven't grown in the last twenty years."
"Not that way. But—you know."
"I guess so." She tosses her pigtails, her smile irrepressible. "You haven't changed at all. You look just like before. When we had that party at Omoro, remember?"
A soft nostalgia feathers through Saya. "I can't believe it's been that long."
"You missed out on a lot!" Lulu declares. "Missions! Traveling! Birthdays!" Meaningfully, "December thirtieth."
"Huh?"
"That's my birthday! We didn't celebrate birthdays in Kilbed. But after Lewis adopted me, he said I should pick one. A happy occasion."
"So… what's so special about December thirtieth?"
Lulu beams. "That's when Julia found a cure for the Thorn. And I walked in sunlight for the first time!"
Saya smiles with wistful affection. "I'm so glad for you." She touches the younger girl's hair. "You've obviously been spending time in sunshiny places."
"Uh-huh! Lewis took me to Port Royal to see his sisters. I played at the beach with their grandkids. They showed me a bunch of ways to do my hair." She swooshes the seashells playfully back and forth. "We'll probably visit again after our next job."
"Job?"
"Mm-hm. It's top secret. This private Shanghai firm is paying us to—"
"It's not top secret if you spill it to everyone, is it Lulu?"
The mellowly-accented voice booms across the room. Saya turns—and smiles. Lewis' massive bulk continues to be a mind-blowing contrast to his stealth. Up close, he hasn't changed much. Still in his trademark Lennon shades, still big and bald and boisterous—and still sharp as a tack.
"Go on now." He nudges the Schiff girl with a gentle hand. "Order your chocolat chaud. The meeting will get started soon."
"Ooh! I almost forgot!"
With a bounce of excitement, Lulu beelines for the bar.
Saya and Lewis watch her go. The big man sighs, trying to come across as long-suffering but mostly sounding proud.
"I keep saying she's gotten too big to fling herself at everyone in that pickney way."
Saya shakes her head. "It's so good to see her. And you, Lewis. Even at… a time like this."
"Better a funeral than a wedding. Isn't that what the Big Book says?" He scratches his shiny head. "At least I think so. Never went much for the Sunday School schlock. And I'm told that's all there was at the chief's send-off."
Saya smiles, a little awkwardly. "It was what his family wanted."
"You mean his wife." He clucks in sympathy. "Cheka in Chanel, that one. David says she gave you an earful."
"Um."
Saya feels a prickling of heat across her face. It has less to do with memory than shame. She can't fault Célia for the outburst. If not for Saya's mistakes at the Zoo, there wouldn't be a need for Red Shield at all…
Lewis enfolds her in a hug. As he does, Saya represses another flash of the old days: Dad's cooking and Riku's laughter, a potful of spicy soup, a birthday cake studded in strawberries, a crowded New York apartment with broken air-conditioning. Reminders that if not for the war, she'd have been denied those small miracles of happiness too.
Her throat tightens, and to fight off the feeling, she squeezes Lewis back, to show him that she is glad he's here, until he yells and dances away.
"Same old bone-buster." He grimaces. "Ow."
"Tighter, Saya," Kai snarks. "Maybe you can flatten him until he fits through the turnstiles at the airport."
"The bane of my life," Lewis sighs.
Saya watches him and Kai clasp hands like brothers. Lewis had spent fifteen years at Okinawa before flying solo for overseas work. It shows in his good-natured ribbing with Kai, in the way he fusses over a giggling Sayumi and Sayuri like they are still children.
"I've brought that crate of horned melons," he tells Sayuri. "It was hell to get it through customs."
"Horned melon?" Saya asks.
Lewis grins. "She's got a craving for it. Likely it's because of—"
Yuri politely clears her throat. "Let's find ourselves a table?"
Lewis raises his brows and mimes zipping his lips. Saya wonders what exactly she is missing.
Their party moves en masse to one of the large circular tables, reserved for special occasions. Saya finds herself against the wall, with Dee and Kai on one side, and Yumi and Yuri on the other. Across from her sit Lewis, David, Julia, V and Sachi. They've left Lulu to schmooze with Adam and Ezra at the bar with hot cups of chocolat chaud. Haji, always the odd one out even after all these years, stays behind Saya's chair like in the old days, an obsequious bodyguard.
It feels wrong to her. He's one of their own—and should be treated so. Glad as Red Shield are to use his talents in battle, they seldom go out of their way to include him in special occasions. Kai is an awkward-in-law, Yumi and Yuri distractedly doting nieces, the Philharmonic a scattered work-family. He has few intimate connections beyond that.
Except me.
Again, she thinks of her conversation with Nathan. Thinks of the vial in her handbag. The chance for a family, and a future.
Reflexively, her fingers catch Haji's sleeve. Without meeting his eyes, she lures him into the seat beside hers, not like a trained dog on a leash but a puzzle-piece fitting into place.
Surprise stitches itself subtly across Haji's face. He says nothing. But beneath the table, his hand clasps hers.
David begins without preamble: "Red Shield 's board will spend the next few weeks in a push-and-pull. Franz is out of the picture. But a few loyalists will pester him to change his mind. At the least, he'll need to handle the personal details of Joel's will."
"So where does that leave us?" Yumi asks. "We've got scouts in Okinawa scanning for a threat. Will they be called back?"
Dee shakes her head. "They're part of my personal team. Red Shield's HQ may issue the final orders. But interim leadership takes over until a new Joel is selected."
"If he is," Kai says.
A pensive silence settles across the room. It is broken by Saya. Reaching into her purse, she places Joel's pocket-watch in the center of the table. The chandelier-lights shine across its surface: hazy geometries of luminous gold.
"It doesn't matter if Red Shield is floundering," she says. "It's up to us to preserve Joel's legacy."
"Always," David agrees, in that tone that brooks no argument.
Saya turns to Dee. "Your scouts. What have they found in Okinawa?"
"The most interesting thing? A dry-foods factory razed at Yabuchi island. Signs show that it was abandoned in a hurry. Their paper trail is legit. But we used a reliable back-channel—" She winks at Lewis, who offers a two-fingered salute, "to locate their bank statements. The administrators received bimonthly deposits for operating costs. These far exceed anything for manufacturing dried shikuwasa."
"What do you mean?"
Dee pulls up a file on her tablet. "The last deposit was for 553,887,500,000 Yen. That's roughly 5 billion dollars. It was made by a company calling themselves IBM-UAWA. Ring a bell for anyone?"
David nods. "That was the front-name for a military research firm."
"I remember them." Julia says. "A few years ago they were subject to an investigation. They were charged with industrial espionage, and creating biogenic weapons to aid dictatorships and puppet regimes. Their CEO resigned right around the time Saya awoke."
"So: not exactly Care Bears," Kai says. "But what were these guys doing in Yabuchi?"
"Shady shit—pardon my French." Dee sets the smartphone down on the table. From its screen, a sliver of blue light zips out and expands like an umbrella. A holographic projection of an irrigation ditch at Yabuchi. The churned-up soil gives way to a stark clutter of skulls and ribcages. "Our teams excavated these remains yesterday. A burial site not too far from the factory. We couldn't ID the remains. Which means these Jay Does were shipped in from another country."
Saya's chest tightens. "You're saying they were experimenting on humans in this factory? Right under our noses?"
"It's galling, I know," Dee says. "We kept thinking Okinawa was a safe-zone. Like the Yanbaru incident never happened."
"People develop a short memory in times of peace," Lewis sighs. "Complacence leads to carelessness."
David is in no mood for philosophizing. "How recently was this factory functional?"
"The last recorded activity was two months ago." Dee hits a button on her device. The 3D hologram blinks out. It is replaced by a series of e-mails. The addressees are blurry and blacked-out, but the content of their exchange is visible. "There's more. We intercepted exchanges between two of the factory's 'foremen'—and a representative from IBM-UAWA. There was a high-alert warning about an escaped specimen. And a pair of dead guards. It was dated May 13th."
Yumi and Yuri exchange glances. "Wasn't that around the time Adam was attacked?" Yumi asks.
"Yeah. He was found by the Bar Junket at the 15th." Dee looks grim. "But here's the problem. According to these emails, the specimen never made it off Yabuchi island."
Saya frowns. "What do you mean?"
"Their correspondence shows that he self-terminated near Yabuchi's mangrove swamp. Adverse reaction to whatever was in his bloodstream." Her eyes narrow. "More interestingly, he wasn't responsible for killing the dead guards. The last message, quote unquote, states it was 'the work of something else completely.'"
Saya's frown deepens. She asks to see the correspondence; Dee hands the tablet over. Scrolling through the disjointed series of texts, Saya feels a creeping unease. Worse—a déjà vu.
"I crawled out of Hell just to see you..."
Taking a breath, she says, "I think it was that Chevalier."
The group exchange glances, but don't contradict her. Not this time.
"Think about it," she says. "The first attack was inland from Yabuchi. The mother and daughter at Uruma. The next attack was Adam, at Sakurazaka. And he probably wasn't the only one. Kai—didn't you mention a nurse went missing around that time too? The last time her friends saw her was at a bar nearby."
Kai nods, slowly, "I figured it was a coincidence. But when you look at it that way..."
"He's been prowling Naha for weeks," Saya says. "I felt him... that night in the alleyway." Her heartbeat amps up. Haji edges closer, radiating quiet reassurance. She swallows, and goes on, "I felt him again—a few times afterward. But I figured I was—"
Crazy.
The entire table, Haji included, wear subdued looks of guilt. Saya stares back with a small dose of satisfaction. Her suspicions about a threat were accurate. But that doesn't explain the visions... unless she buys the yuta's suggestion that Diva is trying to communicate with her from the dead.
Why is that harder to accept than your own madness? Diva whispers in her ear.
A shiver goes through Saya. She forces it down.
"What about the strike-team?" she asks Dee. "Did they find any traces of the Chevalier? Any other victims?"
Dee nods. "The last update was thirty-six hours ago. There was a sighting near Shinko Pier Central Park. At an empty rest-stop. The men's room was splattered with blood. But there were no bodies. Either he hid them himself—or he had someone assisting him."
"Any news since?"
"Zilch. I'll head back to Okinawa to help with the man-hunt. If something unusual turns up, we'll let you know."
"Thank you." Saya turns to Julia. "What about the blood-sample from the Chevalier? Did it reveal anything?"
Julia nods. Her glasses flash opaquely beneath the chandelier-lights. "We used a form of Raman spectroscopy. This is a non-destructive technique to create profiles of a substance's molecular structure and chemical composition. I wanted to use it to determine the structure of his hemoglobin."
"Why that?"
"Red blood cells show subtle changes as the subject ages. This is certainly the case for human beings. Also for artificially-created Chiropterans, such as those made by Cinq Flèches. Even the Schiff, to a degree."
"But not for a Chevalier," Kai guesses.
"Correct," Julia says. "That's what our culprit is. Unfortunately, this itself poses a number of issues. We know that blood is reliable for revealing sex and race, as well as a slew of lifestyle factors. But a Chevalier's blood is like a blank slate. Given the flexible nature of Chiropteran DNA, they can mimic a number of human attributes. Or none at all. So the most we can do is use their blood to correspond affinity between the Queens."
Saya has the sense that Julia is building up to something. "What have you discovered?"
Julia removes her glasses, and polishes them distractedly on her jacket. In a seeming non-sequitur, she says, "Back at Omoro, Saya, you speculated that the Chevalier was a Red Queen's. Why did you think that?"
Saya tries not to wince. "It occurred to me. Based on a… conversation I'd had with Nathan."
Julia smiles grimly. "I wish I knew what you both discussed. Because you were right on the mark."
"Wh-what?"
"This Chevalier. Whoever he is. There are unmistakable traces of the S-factor in his blood. Genetic traits found only in offspring of red-eyed Queens."
Shock ripples across the table. Yumi and Yuri dart nervous looks at Saya, then back to Julia.
"What are you saying, Julia-san?" Yuri asks. "Saya has... another Chevalier?"
"I thought she just had Haji, and Uncle Riku!" Yumi adds.
Uncle Riku.
The sickening flush that races through Saya could be grief or mortification. It's an effort to remember that Yumi and Yuri have no idea what transpired that night on Red Shield's ship. Of all the people at the table, excluding their Chevaliers, they are the only ones who haven't read Joel's Diary in its entirety. That was the deal between Joel and Kai: an attempt to keep their lives mess-free.
But now, with Joel gone...
Julia's reply wrenches her back into moment. "It's true that Saya once had two Chevaliers. But this one isn't hers."
"Isn't—?" Anxiety, deeper than confusion, knots Kai's features. "What're you saying?"
Julia replaces her glasses, her eyes perturbed beneath the lens of rational detachment. "I think we're looking at an ancestral Chevalier. One made from the blood of the ancient Queens. Saya and Diva's primogenitor."
Everyone at the table exchanges stunned glances, except Haji, whose face characteristically reflects nothing at all.
When no one says anything right away, Kai speaks up, "So—he's a Chevalier of Saya's mom? Like Nathan?"
Saya opens her mouth to speak. But it is Yumi who corrects him. "Yako-san—" V chuckles at Nathan's nickname, and a smirky Sachi shushes him, "—said he's the only Chevalier of our grandmother. A Blue Queen."
"That's why he isn't affected by Saya's blood," Yuri adds. "It's only dangerous to each sister's Chevalier."
V mutters, too low for anyone but a Chiropteran to hear, "That's why I freak out whenever Yumi shares her toothbrush. One day I'll end up borrowing it—and crystallize with a mouthful of Colgate down my throat."
Sachi snorts back, "She'd crystallize before you. Then you would have only a toothbrush to remember her by."
Haji swings a frigorific look at them—and they both shut up.
Without inflection, he says, "If I understand correctly, you are implying this Chevalier was created by Saya's aunt."
Julia nods reluctantly. "That's the closest supposition. Although..."
"What?" asks Saya.
"One has to wonder why—and how—he appeared in Okinawa. Or why he attacked Saya. You'd think he would gravitate to the service of a Queen. It's an innate biological drive for most Chevaliers. Even Nathan, after decades of wandering, allied himself with Diva. And then with Red Shield, as soon as Diva was gone. It was his way of pledging fealty to the next surviving Queen."
Saya has never considered it from that angle. Yet something tells her that Nathan's intentions cannot be conflated with this new Chevalier's, in the hopes of a pattern revealing itself. "He didn't seem..."
The voice fills her ears with unnerving sinuosity:
"I will pry you open. Peel you apart layer by layer. Until you are everything I want."
She shudders.
Everyone is staring at her. With effort, she says, "He didn't seem interested in 'pledging.' He wanted to …hurt me."
Badly.
David's gaze hardens into iron-ore "We won't let that happen. Until the scouts conclude their investigation within Okinawa, it's best if you stay overseas, Saya."
"But—"
"As we discussed before, he may not be working alone." He gestures to Dee's tablet. "Given the proximity of this organization to our doorstep, he's likely being backed by a third party."
Saya swallows a number of arguments, for which she will find no arbiters among the table. Not even Haji.
Instead, she asks, "This company. IBM-UAWA. Do they have any other branches? We should investigate them in case they're trying something similar to Cinq Flèches."
Lewis nods, falling into the well-worn groove of intel-gathering. "I'll run a background check on the organization. But it'll take time. These guys don't have the cleanest hands. They won't leave visible electronic-trails. It's likely that smaller laboratories overseas will be doing their scutwork."
Saya accepts this, but isn't deterred. "Whatever you can find."
Lewis winks over his Lennon shades. "Just like old times, eh?"
"Mm." Saya manages a half-smile. But the observation isn't entirely comforting.
Perhaps it is the undercurrent of seriousness in the air, or simply the dimness of the bar, but for a heartbeat it is like seeing them as they'd been in 2007: Kai leaning forward with his elbows braced on the table in the classic pose of pent-up belligerence; David with his steepled fingers against his chin and his steely gaze gone inward as he prepares a workable strategy; Julia leaning back in her seat with her elegant legs crossed, contemplating Saya like an ever-fascinating genome beneath a microscope; Lewis cracking jokes in a way that diffuses the tension without once detracting from their primary goal.
It is as if the thirty-year gap has shrunk to nothing, and the war is still ongoing, the group falling into their old roles. A sense of reversion—or regression. It feels fated in one sense, doomed in another. Like a snake biting its own tail, each struggle, each sacrifice, leading them back to where they first began.
Except I'm not there, Diva whispers.
Saya flinches. Her hand goes to her necklace. The stone is rough-edged against her fingers. The blurred days of grief and confusion, distress and upheaval, make every moment surreal.
"Well." Kai rubs his hands together. "We have a game plan. "
"Or parts of it," Dee agrees. "In the meantime, we'll set up temporary camp at the Zoo."
"You mean Le Grande Maison," Yuri says with a glint of irony.
"Whatever."
"Shotgun: Soleil Suite!" Yumi announces. "The bed in that room is to die for."
Yuri shakes her head. "You'll have to die someplace else."
"Huh? Why?!"
"Joel-san said the suite was officially for Auntie Saya's use."
Saya is caught off-guard. "What—? Oh no, Yuri. It's fine. I don't even know if Haji and I will be staying there—"
"It's the safest place for you to be," Dee cuts in reasonably. "I'll fly back to Okinawa tomorrow evening. Oversee our teams in case anything else turns up."
Saya clamps her mouth shut on the cry of I want to come too! Saying it will only make her look like a child stubbornly resisting the requisite nap. She has no reason to avoid a trip to Bordeaux. More than that, she has no choice—unless she plans to break off from the group and drag Haji on a monster-slaying expedition back to Okinawa.
The others are right. Too much is uncertain right now—Red Shield, its succession, the new threat. They need to reconnoiter until matters stabilize.
So she exhales, and backs down.
Excusing herself, she heads to the bathroom. Haji watches her go. His eyes meet hers in passing. But Saya can't bring herself to manage beyond a token smile. Her whole body is a knot of exhaustion.
In the bathroom, magnificently decorated in the Baroque glow of beige tiles and bronze faucets, she washes up with the silky, floral-scented soap. Her reflection is pale and jittery, her eyes like two fresh bruises. A resurrection of the Saya from the war.
In her ear, Diva giggles, Did you really think she was gone?
Flinching, Saya counts backward from thirty. The bathroom is quiet, with echoing acoustics. She sings Au Clair de la Lune softly to herself.
"Oh!—Saya."
It is Julia. In the mirror, the graceful turn of her body is half-frozen in surprise. Then she relaxes into a smile. "I thought it was the Muzak. Your singing, I mean. I didn't realize you had such a lovely voice."
"Oh, um—" Saya turns off the faucet, blotting her face with a hand-towel. "I-I don't sing much. But I used to at the Zoo."
"I didn't realize." Julia sidles beside her, doing a perfunctory check of her make-up in the mirror. "It wasn't mentioned in Joel's Diary. But then, not everything about you is."
"Mm." Saya is ready to politely exit. But Julia is regarding her, her gaze mild, yet full of curiosity. Her face, in the dim lights, shows all the subtle changes exerted by time, marks testifying to a private life that has nothing to do with the war. A successful career, a husband, three children.
Perhaps it is that, more than her role as Saya's primary physician, that compels Saya to ask—
"Miss Julia?"
"Yes?"
"You and Ezra mentioned... that Queens once had children with their own Chevaliers. Right?"
"That's right." Julia regards her sidelong. "But our research suggests that they evolved past the ability. Likely a mechanism to prevent complications tied to inbreeding."
Saya knows this, the same way she knows Nathan was probably lying. Yet her stomach clenches painfully.
"W-Well. What about if the sister and her Chevaliers are dead? Would that create changes in—I dunno. Body chemistry? Fertility levels? I understand we—Chiropteran Queens regulate ovulation through shared pheromones."
Julia takes off her glasses. Her eyes have gone wide. "Now Saya. How did you know that? We only made the discovery a year ago."
Lip bit, Saya glances elsewhere.
Thankfully, Julia doesn't press. "It's true that Red Shield discovered cell-signaling pathways between Queens. But it's not just ovulation they regulate. They're also responsible for communication between Queens and their Chevaliers. Alarm messages. Food trails. Sex pheromones. It's why their bodies react differently to their sister's Chevaliers as compared to their own ones. Our theories suggest that the former's presence leads to an increase in gonadotropin. This is a hormone linked to reproductive function." She hooks her glasses over her blouse's pocket. "The effect isn't observed when Queens mate with their own Chevaliers. Some speculate that their Chevaliers act as equalizers. They balance out the Queen's mood."
"Balance it out?" Saya processes this with confusion. "Shouldn't that make conception easier?"
This earns her a not-quite-smile. "If you believe the old wives' tale that relaxation is the best medicine." Her expression smooths out. "Unfortunately, it's not so simple. A Queen's body is highly toxic to her Chevalier's sperm. We've dubbed it the Kiss of Death."
"What?"
"Dramatic, yes. But so is mother nature." Julia sighs. "Mating is a risky time for females. A host of harmful bacteria floods their systems along with seminal fluid. Typically, this triggers a cascade of protective proteins. Call it an immune system response. In Queens, it occurs on double-time."
"What do you mean?
"After mating, a Queen's body becomes hyper-vigilant. Not only do her cells differentiate between bacterial invaders and sperm cells. But she also blocks off her own Chevalier's cells while protecting those of her sister's Chevalier. This is done via powerful biochemicals. We refer to it as CFC."
"Cryptic Female Choice," Saya whispers.
Julia nods. "For decades, we adhered to the traditional belief that conception was a male-driven system. But studies of Chiropterans show that the female is in control. Her body chooses the victor—and expels the rest."
"So what's the pointof her own Chevaliers?" Saya asks. "Why mate with them in the first place?"
Something in Julia's manner softens, a segue from teacher to friend. "Nature is one thing, Saya. Nurture is another. Take Yumi and Yuri. One glance at them confirms that Queens don't need chemical messages of reproductive compatibility to be attracted to their own Chevaliers—much less live happily with them." Gentler, "It's not the case between you and Haji."
"Mm." A stupid blush clings to Saya's cheeks. "You mentioned … the S/D-Factor. Is that what survives the, um, Kiss of Death?"
"Correct. The seminal proteins carrying the S/D factor coagulate into a 'mating plug'. This exudes defense chemicals that seep into the Queen's blood, sticking to receptors near her brain. They keep her body-chemistry hospitable for conception. Meanwhile, the plug itself offers a protein source for her babies' cocoons. Her own Chevalier's semen lacks this ability."
"Is there—I dunno. A way to change that?"
If Julia hears the hopefulness in her voice, she doesn't humor it. But she doesn't gloss it over with tepid professionalism, either. "Given biological evidence that it was once a commonality, I wouldn't call it un-possible. But for it to happen—now—would stretch the realm of logic."
"How so?"
"To start with, it would require an unusual form of estrous."
She says it in the tone of an impending invasion. Saya frowns. "What do you mean?"
"Like most placental mammals, Queens go into heat. They even display overt menstruation—bleeding—every once a year. But this is a tightly-regulated system. For a pregnancy to occur between a Queen and her Chevalier, there would need to be an aberration—external or internal—that induces multiple eggs in one cycle. To say nothing of a spike in libido. Queens reportedly have high sex drives as it is."
Saya's flush darkens, her body caught between face-covering or fleeting altogether. "Wh-what—?"
Julia chuckles. "Don't be so embarrassed, Saya. Remember, most of these findings were compiled by Professor Collins." Her humor fades. "Some had merit. Others were blinkered by a... let's call it a masculine lens. During his time as Diva's chief physician, Collins labeled her promiscuous. This was because she had intercourse with different Chevaliers and humans. He purported that all Queens were the same."
"And... you don't think so?"
"I think environment plays as much of a factor as biology. There's a saying that genetics is a lottery. To an extent, it's true. How you turn out in the long term is determined by a host of factors. But many of these are not static." Turning, she gets a comb out of her handbag, and begins brushing her hair from the nape. "Just as human beings continue to evolve, so do you. The genomic revolution allows us to track allelic shifts in both cases. Evolution in action."
Saya finds herself mesmerized by the teeth of the comb running through Julia's hair, over and over, revealing gray roots beneath the sheen of their darker exterior. "So you're saying... there's a possibility?"
"I wish I could give you a definitive answer." Julia straightens with a sigh. "Chiropteran's bodies are complicated. There's still a great deal we have yet to uncover." She slips her glasses back on. "I can tell you one thing. For a Queen to conceive with her Chevalier, there are a host of factors that would need to occur simultaneously. Ovulating multiple eggs per her yearly cycle, instead of one. A miraculous change in chemical signaling, so she isn't put off by a genetically similar male. Mate-binding in the form of blood-drinking, so her body is relaxed and receptive."
Julia is kind and helpful as always. But for Saya, her response, condensed down to a few comprehensible words, points in one dismal direction:
Unlikely.
"Could there be a way to induce these things?" she asks, thinking of Nathan's tincture. "With the right herbs?"
"Herbs?" Julia raises an eyebrow. "Those aren't my specialty. Although Chaste Tree Berry comes to mind. I took supplements before I had Adam."
Chaste Tree Berry? Is that what the tincture contains? Saya is doubtful. "What about... I dunno. Medications?"
"Clomid. It's used for IVF." Julia's expression softens. "For human women. I'm not sure how effective it would be for a Chiropteran."
"I see."
The determination dispels itself all at once. Saya sags against the marble basin.
I should have known better.
Julia unexpectedly touches her, her palm soft on Saya's shoulder. "I see you'd hoped for a different answer."
Saya wants to shrug it off. Nothing important. Nothing except a real future—or so it seems. An avowal of everything to Haji that she can't otherwise put into words. Nothing important. Just everything that's normal and happy and right. But when have those words ever applied to Haji or herself?
I should be grateful for what I have.
It's more than I deserve.
She whispers, "I know it's silly of me. I should forget about it."
Julia shakes her head. "I think it's perfectly natural. You've fought to free yourself from a war. You finally have a resting-place. It's very life-affirming to want a family."
"You don't think I'm being stupid?" She hears the echo of Haji's words. "Trading one burden for another."
Julia's eyes widen a fraction. She seems startled past her poise and into a compulsion for honesty. "I know it's not... fashionable to conflate motherhood with happiness in this day and age. It was something foisted on women in the past. In many ways, it still is. If you have a busy career, it certainly chafes at your capacity to express yourself." She smiles ruefully. "At least, that's what I assumed when I was carrying Dee. But the reality was different."
Saya is curious despite herself. "It was?"
"Having a child... wakes up certain parts of yourself. It did for me. It did so doubly for David. He was even more of a proactive parent than I was." She shrugs. "That's not the case with everyone. Some do without, and are happier for it. Dee, for one, warns us not to expect any grandchildren. We know better than to argue. It's her choice."
Saya's words are dull with resignation. "I don't really have a choice."
"You think that now. But Chiropteran Queens don't do a lot of what you've done, Saya." Julia squeezes her shoulder, before her hand slides away. "Science is advancing every day. Within another few decades, we might succeed at IVF treatments for you. Or donor eggs. The possibilities are there. They just need time to manifest."
"Mm." Saya manages a weak smile. "Thank you, Miss Julia."
The older woman departs on a waft of lavender and a click-click of high-heels. Saya stays behind a moment, fighting off the misery that threatens to engulf her. Tears blur her eyes; she swipes them away. There's an impulse to dig into her pockets for the tincture, and pour it down the drain.
Julia is right. It's too unlikely. And Haji is right too. She should focus on healing from the war instead of chasing after the impossible. She clearly isn't in her right mind, or else she'd never believe Nathan at all. Everything he'd fed her was a load of—
But what if it's not?
What if there's a possibility?
Outside, a quiet commotion breaks out. She hears the overlap of voices, Kai's fierce whispers, and Haji's quiet promptings: "Are you sure?" Then Yuri begins to sob.
Adrenaline galvanizes her. Saya leaps out the door. "What? What's happened?"
They are all standing around the table. Ezra, Adam and Lulu have joined them. Saya's gaze passes from one face to another: she sees reflected wavering degrees of shock and awe. Lewis is grinning with star-spangled intensity. Lulu bounces with the giddiness of a helium balloon. David looks punch-drunk, Ezra fascinated, Adam embarrassed, Dee cackling in profane delight. Julia glances at Saya, her smile tempered with sympathy from their prior conversation.
"Saya," she murmurs. "Yuri has something to share."
Saya blinks, not understanding.
Ahead, Yuri is enfolded by Kai, Haji, V and Sachi, a shield of manliness that is spoiled only by the blubbering. Mostly Kai's. He has an arm around Yuri's shoulders, completely focused on her, his eyes shining through tears. Yuri's other hand is enfolded in Haji's; his blue gaze is so soft as he regards her. Immersed in quiet happiness. Yumi, hanging off Haji's other arm, grins like a Cheshire cat who'd conspired to make everything happen just this way. Maybe she had.
The foursome doesn't spot Saya right away. But Sachi does. He and V stand loosely flanking Yuri. V is awkwardly chortling but seems nonetheless pleased with himself; Sachi's eyes are fixed on his Queen with a mingled fondness and wistfulness.
Then he notices Saya, and flushes.
"Umm."
They others redirect their attention to her. Saya stares. In their midst, Yuri looks so small. The sight of her face makes Saya's heart trip over itself with dizzying déjà vu.
"What's happened?" she asks.
Except she already knows. Clues fall crisply into place like a stacked deck of cards. The sappy little glances she'd kept intercepting between Yuri and Sachi, the day at the marketplace when she'd gorged herself on chawanmushi, Haji's remarks that her temperature felt strange…
Beneath the glimmer of the chandeliers, Yuri's expression is a replica of Diva's, when she'd spoken of her babies. Her eyes a dreamy blue. Her mouth shaped into an ethereal smile. She looks at once exalted and terribly afraid.
"Auntie Saya..."
"What? What's wrong?"
Kai catches Saya's arm, and hauls her closer to him. "Better to just get it out. Yuri's pregnant."
"Wh-what?"
"Two weeks along, more or less. She held back the news all this time. Yumi, V and Sachi knew. And Lewis, because Yuri wanted those goddamn melons. But she wanted to wait until we were all sure."
"Sure?"
"About... how you felt."
"How I felt?" Frowning, Saya tugs her arm away, glancing at Yuri. Who is sobbing with a musical softness.
"I-I was scared," she explains. "After everything you've been through, I didn't think you'd be happy. About... more of us."
"I told her to just get it over with," Yumi says. She is smiling, but crying also, tears streaking her cheeks. "She's been so terrified to tell anyone. I'm just glad it's out in the open now."
"You are okay with it, right?" Yuri asks. "Please, Auntie Saya." Her eyes shine with an astonishing luster. Her face is familiar as a sister's. "I figured I should share it now. After the funeral, I mean. Joel-san is gone, and we won't forget him. He'll be here as long as we are... and what better way to pass his memory on than through family? Our family. The one we have, because with death there's always life, and that's what really matters."
"Well said, Yuri," Haji murmurs.
Yuri smiles tremulously, and squeezes his hand. Both their eyes are on Saya. For a moment, Saya thinks of Nathan's remark—Haji could… with Yumi and Yuri—and experiences a cold wallop of fury.
Stop.
What a sickening thought.
It's clear who the father is. V is preening like he won the grand lotto, while Sachi's own gaze is shaded with the knowledge that he's come second place, yet, inexplicably, been pronounced the winner. That's how it is among Chiropterans. Cross-fertilization. Just like Julia said.
That's one way, Diva whispers in her ear.
Are you ready to try the other?
All at once, the fight goes out of Saya. It hurts to smile, like her jaw might crack. But she manages it. It takes all the strength inside her. All the love. She feels it, a hot spreading star-streak, this trembling radiance of love.
It is all she has left.
"Yuri. Yumi." She extends her arms. "Come here."
With happy cries, they cannonball into her, nearly knocking her backwards. She squeezes them as Diva would have done, if she'd been here in Saya's place.
"I'm so happy for you," she breathes. "The little ones having little ones."
"Oh, I'm not having anything!" Yumi snorts, but her eyes are lit with relief at circumventing a dreadful scene. "Except maybe a Stoli. Or five."
"We could all use a drink," Kai agrees. Encircling the three Queens in his arms, he chivies them toward the bar. "Except the pregnant lady. She gets whatever Future Fatties drink."
"Keep it up, Kai, and it might be your blood," Yuri says sweetly.
"Ooh. I'm shaking. Add a belly and varicose veins we'll all be terrified of her Pudgyship's wrath."
"Which may come sooner than expected."
"Unlike the babies," he grumbles. "Gimme a list of dishes. You're stuck eating for three until at least next year..."
Saya lets happiness and leftover adrenaline drive her family's banter. Yumi and Yuri are hugged close to her, still hiccoughing through tears but smiling and no longer afraid. Their clashing jangle of perfumes, Yumi's spicy, Yuri's sweet, blend together in an aromatic waft that summons for a powerful moment the specter of Diva herself.
Saya half-expects to hear her sister's voice, to glimpse her mad little smile.
Except Diva is gone.
Like Joel. Like Dad. Like Riku.
It's up to the rest of us to keep going.
At the bar, Saya takes her place beside Haji. The familiarity of his body is like an optimistic possibility not yet realized. Without meeting his gaze, she motions to the waiter for a glass of water. Into it, she pours the entire contents of Nathan's tincture.
Raising the glass, she stares over its rim at Haji's shocked eyes—then knocks it back.
A mock-toast.
To the atom of What-if between them, so tiny it is indistinguishable from Why-not?
Next chapter:
Saya is dtf. Expect smut :3