Al-though Sobon's aether was be-gin-ning to set-tle and heal enough for her to be-gin the next stage of at-tune-ment, and al-though Mian ap-proached her want-i-ng to dis-cuss ex-ter-nal qi, Sobon forced her-self to spend the next full day de-sign-ing and get-ting the ma-te-ri-als to make a spir-i-tu-al sen-sor ar-ray. The ma-te-ri-als were the stick-ing point; the sen-sor ar-ray re-quired both an an-ten-na por-tion, for which Sobon's di-a-mond was an ac-cept-able ma-te-r-i-al, but also a de-tec-tor por-tion, which was some-thing that usu-al-ly re-quired spe-cial-ized ma-te-ri-als--ide-al-ly, high-ly re-ac-tive met-als, but ones just sta-ble enough that they wouldn't de-cay due to aether ef-fects alone.

  Gen-er-al-ly, in aether tech-nol-o-gy, this was done with very heavy el-e-ments, and the heav-ier the bet-ter; it was a pri-ma-ry use for the transuran-ic met-als, when placed with-in spe-cial-ized sys-tems to pre-vent or lim-it ra-dioac-tive de-cay. Sobon had no in-ter-est in try-ing to find an ide-al sub-sti-tute; the "cheap and easy" so-lu-tion to the prob-lem was bis-muth. It wasn't quite heavy enough, and it wasn't quite ra-dioac-tive enough, but its crys-tal struc-ture was com-pat-i-ble with ex-ist-ing de-signs, and its aether in-ter-ac-tions pre-dictable enough.

  Un-for-tu-nate-ly, the lo-cals here had some-thing of an at-tach-ment to bis-muth, since it was also the name and col-oration of a rel-a-tive-ly high qi rank--one just above Sobon's, now. Or, to be clear--the qi rank was based on the iri-des-cent col-ors of bis-muth ox-ide that forms on the sur-face of the met-al. Ei-ther way, the few peo-ple that Sobon could im-me-di-ate-ly find to sup-ply her with even a lit-tle bit of the met-al were out of stock, and only will-ing to make promis-es in-volv-ing weeks or months and a lot of mon-ey.

  Weird-ly enough, though, this quest had her cross-ing paths with Kibar, and not in any of the usu-al places. He was sim-ply walk-ing by, when he spot-ted Sobon look-ing rather cross as she left a shop.

  "Lady Alas-si." His words were for-mal, if a bit sullen. "You look per-turbed."

  Sobon might have snapped at him, but so far, the man had been harm-less. "I am search-ing for ma-te-ri-als," she said. "Un-suc-cess-ful-ly."

  "Tru-ly?" Kibar glanced at the shop, seem-ing-ly con-fused. It wasn't ex-act-ly a world-class shop; Sobon had gone to the shops in the Ways of Gold and Sil-ver first, and end-ed up in more of a back-al-ley shop-ing dis-trict by the end. "If I may ask, what is it that you are so des-per-ate to find?"

  "I am not des-per-ate. I sim-ply have a spe-cif-ic use for a sam-ple of bis-muth, and there are none to be found."

  "Bis-muth..." the man frowned, putting one fin-ger on his chin. "Strange met-al, and stranger that it lends its name and col-or to qi, is it not? I have sev-er-al sam-ples, but I have yet to find any mean-ing-ful con-nec-tion be-tween the met-al and any prop-er-ty of qi that jus-ti-fies its pro-found place-ment in the heirar-chy." He looked again at Alas-si, and this time, Sobon could de-tect no trace of the man's for-mer smug coun-te-nance. "I wouldn't mind part-ing with a sam-ple, if the Lady would be will-ing to en-gage me in... civ-il dis-course. Noth-ing more than that."

  Sobon did take the time to clear her mind and make sure that there was no spir-i-tu-al sense here that she was walk-ing into some kind of trap, sig-nif-i-cant or oth-er-wise, but the man re-al-ly seemed like some-thing she had said, or some-thing else that had hap-pened to him, had shocked him into a new way of think-ing.

  That is what led to Sobon fol-low-ing the man, with some cau-tion, to an out of the way slum, where he as-cend-ed some poor-ly built but well-main-tained stairs to a very small apart-ment on the top floor of a rick-ety three-sto-ry build-ing. From a ways away, Sobon wouldn't have re-al-ly ex-pect-ed to even find a three-sto-ry build-ing in the area; a small but deep shift in the ter-rain meant the top floor was only bare-ly taller than the two-sto-ry build-ings near-by.

  Kibar's quar-ters, as-sum-ing that's what they were, were clean and spar-tan. Sobon could sense a hid-den chest in the cor-ner that con-tained a pock-et di-men-sion, much like Sobon's ring and in-progress bracelet, but in-stead of go-ing to it, Kibar wan-dered to a bit of cracked ma-son-ry, and shift-ed it aside, show-ing coins and oth-er small items in a small hol-low in the wall.

  The sam-ple of bis-muth that he with-drew was the size of his thumb, which was a bit larg-er than Alas-si's thumb, and more than enough for Sobon to work with. But as he re-placed the ma-son-ry and held it up to the light to look at the col-ors that shined off of it, he spoke slow-ly, and again, Sobon found the man's voice to be... sub-dued.

  "I was first told of the ex-is-tence of the spir-its when I was a very young boy," he said. "In truth, even when I look back on my life, I do not see any places where their guid-ance has led me astray. And yet, af-ter you have so firm-ly dis-missed the con-cept of be-ing led by the spir-its, I be-gan to won-der. Per-haps they did not lead me astray, but did they lead me to the best fu-ture I could have had?"

  "What was sur-pris-ing was that when I be-gan to think like that, they be-came up-set." Kibar low-ered the bis-muth and turned, then tossed it to Sobon, who caught it out of the air, and took a mo-ment to study the sam-ple with her eyes and sens-es. It was def-i-nite-ly large and pure enough, al-though there was some kind of large im-pu-ri-ty with-in the crys-tal. "Since then, I feel... dis-placed. I am not sure that I un-der-stand." A mo-ment or two af-ter fin-ish-ing that sen-tence, Kibar added a tiny spir-i-tu-al pulse, to sug-gest an end-of-sen-tence be-yond what was im-plied--that he was done speak-ing and ac-tu-al-ly ask-ing a ques-tion.

  Sobon took it in stride, putting the sam-ple away in her space ring. "I think you'll find the an-swer un-sat-is-fy-ing. You be-gan be-liev-ing in mean-ing and pur-pose, but you have en-coun-tered some-thing that has no mean-ing and no pur-pose. Spir-its have a dif-fer-ent per-spec-tive, but they are still..." Sobon had to con-sult briefly with Alas-si to find a word that had the right con-no-ta-tions to con-vey what she meant. "...peo-ple. They have faults and flaws, and es-pe-cial-ly, they have emo-tions. They can be hurt, and they can be shal-low. Their per-spec-tive and their na-ture can let them lead peo-ple, if that's what they want to do. But some-times, it isn't what they want, ei-ther be-cause that is not their na-ture, or be-cause they are hurt or dis-tressed and sim-ply stop want-i-ng to. That hurt is not pur-pose or mean-ing. It is, sim-ply..." Sobon again searched for a word. "...vul-ner-a-bil-i-ty."

  "Vul-ner-a-bil-i-ty." Kibar's voice had just a touch of bit-ter-ness. "That is a rea-son...?"

  "Rea-son is not mean-ing or pur-pose, sir Kibar." Then, tak-ing a bit of a gam-ble, she fetched the sam-ple out again. "Let's talk about bis-muth. You won-der what its mean-ing and pur-pose is? In truth, it has none. In-stead of mean-ing or pur-pose, bis-muth has prop-er-ties. Once you un-der-stand its prop-er-ties, it ceas-es to be mere-ly a flawed, brit-tle met-al." She moved the sam-ple in her fin-ger and raised her hand as though to fore-stall an ob-jec-tion, al-though Kibar didn't seem to be rais-ing one. "I won't pre-tend that your spir-i-tu-al guide is lit-tle more than a tool, the way that even the best of ma-te-ri-als is only a tool. Peo-ple that think of oth-er peo-ple like that are of-ten un-kind and un-de-serv-ing."

  "In-stead, the fact that I un-der-stand bis-muth is what will let me give it pur-pose, where you could not. And that is part of why I don't trust your 'spir-its.'" Idly, pro-ject-ing an aether pat-tern around the bis-muth crys-tal, she re-moved the im-pu-ri-ties and the ox-ide lay-er, re-shap-ing what re-mained into a small-er, sol-id cube. The im-pu-ri-ties and ox-ides she let fall to the floor at her feet. "I've been led by peo-ple who un-der-stand noth-ing be-fore. I've been a sol-dier, and be-ing led is how be-ing the mil-i-tary works. That will al-ways be a large part of who I am."

  "The sense I got from your so-called spir-it is one that didn't know and didn't care about my his-to-ry or my fu-ture. I would be-lieve it meant well, but that doesn't mat-ter if it doesn't un-der-stand. I will not sim-ply be a pret-ty piece of crys-tal held by some-one who doesn't un-der-stand."

  It wasn't un-til Sobon spoke that it re-al-ly oc-curred to him, the for-mer Cy-borg, that he was re-al-ly now a she, a woman, in a world that seemed to ex-pect cer-tain things from women. The pret-ty shop-keep-ing girls that were sim-ply dec-o-ra-tions for their store-fronts came to mind, as well as Xoi Xam and Rai Su Anin. Sobon had known, of course--Alas-si's own fu-ture had been ru-ined by a sex-ist bas-tard who want-ed to black-mail her into sub-mis-sion. But it was still a very dis-tant thought that peo-ple were look-ing at her, Sobon, with those same eyes. Or, it had been.

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  Kibar had said he want-ed to talk with a pret-ty woman. Sobon had rec-og-nized it as flirt-ing, but not put it into con-text, not least be-cause Kibar hadn't turned out to be any kind of scum. A fool, per-haps, and a fool who Sobon now re-al-ized was ac-tive-ly search-ing for a wife, and who still har-bored some hopes that Alas-si would be it.

  Once again, Sobon found that she tru-ly hat-ed be-ing a flesh and blood thing. What she wouldn't give to re-place her body with suit-able pros-thet-ics, carv-ing away all of those ugly bits of bi-ol-o-gy that cared so damned much about re-pro-duc-tion and re-plac-ing them with weapons, data-bas-es, gen-er-a-tors, tools. She fought the urge to show her ugly feel-ings on her face, though she couldn't quite stop the stress and tense-ness from reach-ing her fea-tures.

  "And you, sir Kibar," she added, as new feel-ings rolled through her, "I do not be-lieve that you will ever un-der-stand me, but even if you could, I would be un-in-ter-est-ed in try-ing. I have work to do, and I do not be-lieve you will ever be a part of it."

  The fi-nal-i-ty of her words did strike some-thing in Kibar, and al-though she soft-ened her exit with "Thank you" and some oth-er mol-li-fy-ing words, byt he time Sobon walked out of the man's room, she could tell that he had tak-en the com-plete re-jec-tion for what it was.

  When Sobon re-turned home, she was in no mood to an-swer Mian's ques-tions, al-though she re-tained enough good na-ture to apol-o-gize and sched-ule a bet-ter time. Mian, too, fac-tored into things; Sobon stud-ied the man, who was still smit-ten by Alas-si, but he also seemed like he was will-ing to move on and look for an-oth-er woman, not in-ter-est-ed in Sobon and will-ing to ad-mit that Alas-si her-self was all but gone.

  In-stead of en-gag-ing with those thoughts di-rect-ly, Sobon spent the rest of the day and night in her hid-den base-ment, as-sem-bling the spir-i-tu-al sen-sors, form-ing di-a-mond an-ten-nas, bis-muth de-tec-tors, and crude brass sup-ports, then as-sem-bling a sec-ond full set with dif-fer-ent an-ten-na tun-ings. At the very least, none of this work re-quired Sobon to ex-per-i-ment; it was fair-ly stan-dard Crestan gear, and she had craft-ed sim-i-lar out of spare parts and garbage on a mis-sion be-fore. With the aether rou-tine data-base pro-vid-ed by the Coro-na mak-ing up for her own lost data-base, she sim-ply had to grind through the math and cre-ate the struc-tures ac-cord-ing-ly.

  Even so, the sun was al-ready ris-ing when Sobon had got-ten to the point where she could be-gin script-ing a dif-fer-en-tial sig-nal ma-trix that con-nect-ed the two de-tec-tors. A DSM Scan-ner was a half-pas-sive sen-sor, mean-ing that it was still de-tectable by the spir-i-tu-al-ly at-tuned, but its aether sig-na-ture was much, much small-er than any ac-tive sen-sor. That wouldn't like-ly stop the Di-a-mond Lord, or any-one else, from notic-ing that they were be-ing ob-served, but they shouldn't be able to tell from which di-rec-tion, not as long as Sobon wasn't us-ing any ac-tive pow-ers to pierce shield-ing.

  The DSM script it-self, though, was com-plex enough that Sobon couldn't en-grave it in a morn-ing, and she had promised Mian to speak af-ter break-fast. So she set aside the work, join-ing the oth-ers for their meal.

  "You seem up-set," Ki'el said. "You have been ever since you re-turned."

  Sobon just nod-ded. "I am fine. I was... re-mind-ed. That I am not who I used to be, and that I have to deal with the same things every-one else does. In this case... with how peo-ple view women."

  Both Lui and Ki'el flinched in sym-pa-thy at that, al-though Sobon wasn't ex-pect-ing it of Lui. Then again, from the few con-ver-sa-tions she'd had since Lui had start-ed grow-ing up again, if that was the right way to phrase it, the girl was not as naive as she had been, and had be-gun re-flect-ing on what she'd seen when she was younger. Al-though she seemed too young to re-al-ly un-der-stand what the men at the inn had want-ed or in-tend-ed when they were be-ing crude and crass... per-haps it was right that she was learn-ing while she was young, and not dis-cov-er-ing these things when she was of age, and al-ready in the line of fire. No, put that way, of course that was right.

  If Sobon had her way--his way--he would have equipped both Lui and Ki'el with plas-ma can-nons, just in case, but that wasn't the way of things on any world. Still, Sobon en-joyed the thought.

  "It was for-tu-nate-ly noth-ing, and noth-ing should come of it," Sobon clar-i-fied af-ter a mo-ment. "But I..." She searched for words, un-sure of ex-act-ly what she want-ed to say. "I would much pre-fer to be a war-rior with-out sex or gen-der. That is who I was, be-fore, and it's still who I am in-side. I have no in-ter-est in nav-i-gat-ing peo-ple's ex-pec-ta-tions, and their in-ter-est gains me noth-ing. It is noth-ing but an ir-ri-tat-ing dis-trac-tion."

  Ki'el nod-ded firm-ly at that, al-though Lui seemed like she didn't quite agree. Mian, per-haps not hav-ing en-coun-tered these thoughts be-fore, was look-ing be-tween the three of them as though try-ing to get a read on the sub-text that he was miss-ing.

  Ki'el spoke up af-ter a mo-ment of si-lence. "I do not think that it is wrong to be a woman, and I do not think that I will mind be-ing a moth-er some day, but I in-tend to live my life as a sword. Un-til I find some-one I... ac-cept," she added some sub-text to that word that Sobon didn't feel any need or de-sire to un-tan-gle, "I would not wish for any-one else to pre-tend to be-ing close with me. These things that the Djang call beau-ty are shack-les, and I will nev-er ac-cept them.

  Lui seemed un-com-fort-able, and Mian more-so, but Sobon just nod-ded. "There will be those who do not un-der-stand, but there is no need to con-cern your-self with that, not un-til and un-less they in-tend vi-o-lence. Just be aware that those peo-ple do ex-ist, and you may need to fight or flee in or-der to sur-vive."

  Ki'el nod-ded at that, and Mian stepped into the qui-et. "Ki'el... I agree that no one should force you to be any-thing you are not. But I don't see beau-ty as a shack-le."

  Lui nod-ded em-phat-i-cal-ly at that. "It's not!" She protest-ed. "Beau-ti-ful peo-ple are... beau-ty is..."

  Sobon wait-ed to see what she had to say, but when she seemed not to find a way for-ward, Sobon spoke up. "My peo-ple would say it is a mat-ter of [gen-der]," she said, trans-mit-ting the word's in-tent when she felt like the lo-cal lan-guage didn't quite con-vey it. "Gen-der is a spir-i-tu-al qual-i-ty that isn't sim-ply about your flesh. Peo-ple's souls res-onate with peo-ple of sim-i-lar minds, and re-ject those who are in-com-pat-i-ble, and gen-der is a foun-da-tion of that, some-thing prim-i-tive and in-her-ent. If some-one asked me, or Ki'el, to be-come 'women' in the sense of be-ing... beau-ti-ful, sub-mis-sive peo-ple, like many we've seen in this city, it would be no dif-fer-ent than ask-ing the same of Mian, or Lord Shi-da, or Tuli. They would be ask-ing us to res-onate with in-com-pat-i-ble peo-ple and in-com-pat-i-ble ideals."

  "But at the same time," Sobon spoke up as both Mian and Lui seemed like they want-ed to protest, "we can't ask you not ac-cept beau-ty, be-cause the beau-ty you see draws you to-wards peo-ple like you. If we asked you to re-ject what you felt and what you want-ed, to be-come like us, you would find few peo-ple 'here' that are like you. You would only find peo-ple like 'us'." She nod-ded at Ki'el, who was watch-ing her with a rapt look on her face.

  "I don't think beau-ty is an in-com-pat-i-ble ide-al with be-ing a pow-er-ful war-rior," Mian protest-ed. "I be-lieve that a pow-er-ful woman can look how-ev-er she likes. There is no rea-son why pow-er and sex can-not go hand in hand."

  Lui, for her part, was con-flict-ed, and mum-bling some-thing about 'beau-ty' and 'spir-i-tu-al' as she tried to wrap her mind around the com-plex-i-ties of what Sobon had said.

  Sobon just shook her head. "Mian, and Lui, and Ki'el... I can tell you for cer-tain that we could spend weeks or years try-ing to find the ex-act words to ex-plain how we feel. The truth is that there is a truth. It is not writ-ten in stone; our feel-ings are im-per-fect, and they can change. But my per-son-al feel-ings are that my gen-der, and my sex, should not mat-ter ex-cept if and when I choose for them to mat-ter. But the peo-ple who dress their daugh-ters up and have them stand for hours in their shops to at-tract cus-tomers are say-ing that those girls' gen-der and sex al-ways mat-ters. That they should al-ways be aware of their sex, and should al-ways be act-ing in a way that is de-ter-mined by their sex. That is what is of-fen-sive."

  "If some-day, I em-brac-ing be-ing a woman--and I have some doubt that I ever will--but if I do, it will be no one else's con-cern. And if I am re-born a man, next time, I will be of-fend-ed if peo-ple tell me that my be-ing a man mat-ters, just as I'm of-fend-ed when peo-ple tell me be-ing a woman mat-ters. I am nei-ther man nor woman." Sobon put down the dish with the last of her break-fast. "I am only Sobon."

  The oth-er three con-sid-ered those words, with Ki'el be-ing the least per-turbed of the three. But Sobon, see-ing that Mian was thor-ough-ly dis-tract-ed, de-cid-ed to just go back to her base-ment work-shop. The whole con-ver-sa-tion was ir-ri-tat-ing; nec-es-sary, but ir-ri-tat-ing. Most-ly, it just re-mind-ed Sobon that there was an-oth-er whole world out there, one full of peo-ple and lives that she had nev-er ex-pe-ri-enced. It wasn't as though she didn't want--and hadn't want-ed, past tense--more friends, who lived in-ter-est-ing lives filled with col-ors, and gen-ders, and oth-er in-ter-est-ing things. And for all she knew, if she ever had a chance to ex-plore the world, if things were at peace and she wasn't tasked with dis-man-tling a world-end-ing dis-as-ter, she might fall in love or... or oth-er-wise, be-come some-thing she def-i-nite-ly isn't right now, and has nev-er been.

  But she'd be damned if she was go-ing to let some-one ma-nip-u-late her into some bull-shit, and that was all she was ex-pect-ing from this world. Even on Crest, when she looked at her peers she saw re-la-tions that start-ed on ac-ci-dent and end-ed in tears. She wasn't go-ing to get tan-gled up, not now, and maybe not ever. She just couldn't af-ford to.

  shouldn't matter. And while I consider myself an LGBTQ+etc ally, I also don't necessarily stand with the people who are loud about their gender, whether straight and other. Not because I want anyone else to be ashamed, but because I am a quiet person, and I don't want people telling me that I'm wrong to be a quiet person. It will only ever be my business, and the business of people I invite in.