Work Text:
Despite the advanced hour, the air was warm and humidly heavy. The starched collar clung to Boone's neck in the steam, the bow tie strangled him, and his wrists were sweaty from his shirt cuffs. He could talk for hours about how uncomfortable the lacquered shoes were, even if they were exactly tailored.
But two things were not so bad.
The CVI seemed to be able to arrange for the ubiquitous mosquitoes and other stinging insects to leave him alone. And then the starry sky, here in the Congo Basin, so different from the ones he saw at home in Washington. The visible arm of their home galaxy had a completely different shape here, and the purple nebulae it was used to from America was rather blue. Beautiful view. As always, he thought, and then he had to stop at what he took for granted, especially considering that he was born into the filthy late twentieth century, when the sky over most of the Earth was covered with smog so dense that one often did not see not a month.
Another of the things the Taeloni took care of was almost a snap. It only took two years and their bioactive air purifiers to make the planet's air almost as clean as before the Great Industrial Revolution. And the reactors they helped design produced clean electricity from a fraction of nuclear fuel rather than obsolete human power plants.
So only thanks to the Taelon could he look at the beautiful, purple-blue cobwebs stretching across the sky, which were…
An unconscious smile lifted his lips as he remembered that the cosmic nebulae looked very much like the excitement and enthusiasm of the sparkling webs of energy pathways that alternately adorned his Taelon's face throughout the evening's performance. Da’an was enchanted by the indigenous folk music of the locals, more than how he had been abducted since the unfortunate incident with Elyse… or whatever her name was.
This event was the last thing he wanted to think about in connection with Da’an. Especially today, even without CVI, he would remember vividly how long, slender fingers flickered eagerly in the air, even before the music began to play. Or how a wave of blue glow crossed each exposed part of the skin every time the sounds of the drums reached their peak. At that moment, it was difficult to take my eyes off her or, perhaps, for God's sake, to devote oneself to the music itself. He could only see her.
"I missed you, Commander," came a voice behind him.
He turned and stared at… Da’an. She stood… no, he stood, correcting himself. He stood at the now-closed glass door, his head tilted to one side, his hand raised above his waist, and his fingers pointed at Boon.
"I was just checking security," he replied in partial truth, straightening his jacket in a slightly nervous gesture. The other half of the truth was that he didn't want to go back inside, so he left the watch of Da’an to Sandoval and the Volunteers they had brought with them.
Da’an slowly closed his eyes, a knowing smile on his lips, then opened them just as slowly, staring at Boone with sparkling blue eyes.
"I'm sure the embassy's security is doing a good job."
"It never hurts to check it," he replied.
Taelon said nothing, just turned his gaze up to the stars and walked slowly to the railing, where he finally laid his hands lightly. Boone glared at them. They were tiny, pearly shiny even in the light of the stars and the moon, and at the same time shone soft blue. They were beautiful.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he quickly looked away from Da’an's hands and preferred to look up as well.
They remained silent, standing very close together, but still not so close that it was easy to touch Da’an, which Boone liked. If he had just placed his palms on the railing to be close enough to touch, he would do it. Even if he could only touch with his little finger before Da’an dodged his hand. Just to feel the vibrating presence on his skin and mind, at least for a while.
"Your white stars will never cease to fascinate me," Da’an broke the silence.
He turned to him, a little surprised. The word white thus emphasized that the question simply offered itself.
"Aren't the white stars on Taelon?"
Da’an gave him a smile out of the corner of his lips.
"Eighty-three percent of the stars in the Meruva galaxy have a shifted spectrum of visible light toward red compared to your stars. When they shine through the atmosphere of Taelon, they acquire a purple tinge. ”
"It must be beautiful," he said in amazement, not so much tied to the very idea of a sky dotted with purple stars, but rather to the idea of what Da’an would look like after those stars. It would have to be literally as if he carried some of those stars.
"It's beautiful, but so is your heaven."
"Yes, it is," he agreed, just looking up quickly. "Mostly thanks to you, but still - it's the sky I've known since I was a child. They differ only in details. The idea of purple stars is far more incredible than anything I can actually see here on Earth. ”
"Maybe one day a way will be found to transport your physical body through the intergalactic space unharmed. If so, then it would not make me any happier than to be one of the first to bring you to Taelon and show the beauty of its heavens, ”Da’an said almost solemnly.
Boone was truly taken aback, both by the invitation itself, the most unfulfillable, and especially by the warmth with which Da’an said it.
"Thank you. It would be an honor, ”was all he could do, though he would rather say something more, just don't know what.
It seemed to be enough for Da’an, as he nodded contentedly and turned away again, but this time to watch the lazily flowing stream of the local garden. As always, Taelon said no more than was necessary, and so there was silence between them again, interrupted by the roar of a stream, the roar of the breeze in the branches, the buzz of insects, and also by the distant music that muffled through the glass door. It was one of many waltzes, and according to the number of dancing feet, a favorite piece. Of course he had no idea what. Although he gained much better hearing and perception thanks to CVI, so he finally began to distinguish between different types of waltzes, he simply did not like classical dance music and so he never bothered to explore it more deeply. Such music meant dancing, and dancing was, well, let's say he liked it even less than starched collars and paint cans.
He caught Sandoval out of the corner of his eye, circling the floor with an atypical enthusiasm, even smiling. At least someone enjoyed the ball night. Although it was clear that as soon as the Second Implant noticed that Da’an had disappeared, he would immediately stop dancing and look for him.
"Maybe we should come back before Sandoval notices you're gone," he suggested, though that meant breaking their silent harmony. He would rather do it himself than be attacked by Sandoval.
"Do not worry. He knows, ”Da’an replied without turning to Boon or even moving. "I told him I would look for you and stay in your company while he could enjoy tonight. It seemed that ballroom dancing was such a strong passion for him that it almost surpassed his motivational imperative. ”
"It's hard to believe," he replied with a hint of humor, though it was really true that he could hardly believe it. Sandoval was obsessed with the well-being of the Taelons to the point that he could do literally anything. Unfortunately.
"And yet it's so to my great embarrassment," Da’an said, this time looking sideways at Boon, an amused spark in his eyes and one corner a little raised. "Agent Sandoval has taken me on the bike as a result of the Motivational Imperative and his passion for dancing, some unpleasant tendency - as you people say. The strategic retreat, along with a clearly worded order, was my only chance to escape it. ”
Boone laughed lightly. It's hard to say whether Da'an's carefully worded words or Sandoval's idea of dancing with Da’an. Both were funny and in the case of dance even curious.
"I know that very well. I'm not a very good dancer either. "
"But you're a dancer, which means you master this art far better than I do."
"Can't you dance?" he asked in surprise, to immediately scold his mind. It was foolish to assume that aliens could dance like humans.
"Not in this human, paired way," Da’an replied indulgently. "It seems, however," he raised his hand and circled it in the air, "that I will have to master this art as part of my duties as a North American representative to the Companions."
A humorous thought flashed through Boon's head.
"I'm almost tempted to offer you a lesson," he said amusedly.
He did not expect Da’an's reaction, not only turning to his forehead with graceful speed, but even a bluish shadow running across his face, indicating deep interest.
"It would be extremely helpful and enjoyable. Please, let's get started, ”said Boon, who was completely surprised, who managed to blink in confusion and look around uncertainly.
"Here? Now?"
"Sure. Why not?" Da’an answered with a question, looking around as if to indicate that there were no obstacles to a dance lesson. “I would say that this terrace provides plenty of space and we also have music. What more is needed? ”
He had to admit that they didn't need anything more, but that didn't mean he was particularly involved. Not only was he not really the best dancer, so it could end in quite a bit of embarrassment, mainly because it meant holding Da’an in his arms. The thought made his stomach heave and his throat tighten a little. For a long time, he wanted nothing more than to touch her again, as he had that evening a few weeks ago as they watched the sunset over Washington together. But now that he had the chance, he was embarrassed. On the other hand, it was just a dance, although almost private in a very romantic place, but still just a dance.
"Okay," he cleared his throat and advanced more into space. "Let's try it, just be warned that your legs may not survive in health," he said with humor, trying to hide his embarrassment.
"I'm not worried, Commander. I fully trust you, ”Da’an said, walking over to him.
"We'll see what you say in a moment," he added nervously, raising his hand in the invitation. "Take my hand - yes, yes. "Well," he praised as Taelon put his hand in his. "And the other on my shoulder," he continued through instructions through his throat, which seemed to run even tighter with a starched collar.
He shrugged even harder as Da’an placed his palm lightly on his shoulder. Although his touch was light, as if a dust feather had landed on Boon's shoulder, all the muscles in his shoulder and arm tensed as if struck by a current. Probably partly literally, because both through their joined palms and through the fabric of his jacket, he could feel the tingling of energy seeping through Taelon's thin physical box.
He forced his shoulders to relax, then placed his hand on Da’an's waist.
He was incredibly young. Not just slim, but literally thin. With a little effort, he could easily hug him with his hands. No woman he ever held had such a thin waist. Not Katy at all. Although she was slim, she was not one of the women who would have a lavor instead of a belly. On the contrary, it rose slightly and blended so beautifully with the rounded hips. She complained about it more than once, but he always told her that she was beautiful and that he would not exchange it for anything.
He was suddenly not so sure now.
Da’an was like a twig, and her thin waist and slender hips made her seem seemingly fragile. And while Katy was a strong, independent woman in behavior, character, and appearance, Da’an… she… he had a gentle, calm demeanor, and a small body, which together played the primitive string that most men wore. Protect and own.
In his mind he had to smile at the absurdity of his thoughts.
Taeloni may have seemed vulnerable, and Da’an only intensified the impression with his calm demeanor, but they weren't really. They hid the power of a nuclear reactor, literally.
From his hand, gripping Da’an's waist, he looked up into his eyes, glowing with curiosity and the inner energy that gave his gaze inhuman intensity.
He smiled nervously.
"I'm afraid I probably won't learn how to lead," he said, causing Da’an to tilt his head to the side on an unspoken question. "By that I mean the attitude we have taken - just, men have slightly different steps than women. Men lead, women let themselves be led. ”
"I see. You gave me a female role in the couple. "
"Yes ouf I hope you don't mind?"
"As I have said, Commander, I am neither male nor female, and I have no objection to being labeled or considered a woman. Or at least no bigger objections than to be considered a man, "Da’an said with a little amusement that raised the corners of his narrowed eyes.
"Sure," he replied vaguely, staring into the energies of the swirling eyes for a few moments before quickly turning his gaze to their joined hands.
The CVI helped him project in his head the dance lessons he had taken before the prom, so he could easily figure out how to properly align their hands and move his palm from Da’an's waist, you know, to his back. The next step was to take a dance posture. But that was only about himself, because Taelon was standing straight and relaxed in his arms, just as always.
"Well…" He turned his gaze to his own feet, CVI or not, dancing just wasn't his strong point. "Don't follow my steps and when I go backwards, you go forward and vice versa. Do you understand? ”
"Sounds very simple."
"Yes. For the first time, I also had the impression, ”he did not forgive the note and smile before walking slowly.
During his first lesson, Boone not only kept his rhythm, tangled his right and left, stepped on his partner's feet and she stepped on him, and took either too small or too long strides. In short, he literally couldn't do a single set properly. It was supposed to be the same today, after all the last time he had danced a waltz twenty years ago, and Da’an never danced it, but it didn't happen.
Probably the CVI was to blame, but the music seemed to give him, with its rhythm, precise instructions on when to go and where. And Da'an? For a being who was mainly made of energy, he had a remarkably good coordination of his physical body. He managed to keep a distance of perhaps a millimeter from Boone's foot with each step, even if it meant taking a much bigger step for him than he was used to.
It didn't take long, and they were already circling the improvised floor together like a well-matched couple, instead of two beginners who still needed to watch their own feet so as not to step on each other's toes.
He had never liked dancing, but at this moment… when he held Da’an in his arms and circled with him on the marble paving of the terrace… he understood what people saw in the dance. The dance itself still didn't tell him anything, but there was something beautiful about Da’an's contented half-laugh.
It was too soon that the music stopped playing and their dance was interrupted, whether or not.
He stopped and Da’an with him. He was supposed to let her go, but he didn't, he just let his palm drop to her waist again and pulled their clasped hands together. Da’an didn't protest, just tilted his head slightly to one side and his feather-light hand slid from Boone's shoulder to his upper arm.
"As far as I can tell, you're a good dancer," Da’an said.
"Amy McNeel wouldn't agree with you," he replied with a chuckle.
"Who's Amy McNeel?"
"But just my graduation." Da’an blinked and bowed his head incomprehensibly. “Graduation… prom. A celebration with dancing, food and drink, which takes place at the end of each school year at most high schools. It is practically a duty for those from the last years. "
"Oh, sure. I read about it, ”Da’an said, and his head tilted at an almost unnatural angle looked into the distance; he remembered. "It seems to be a big social event for adolescents, which is a kind of symbolic entry into adulthood. According to our scientists, it is a primitive ritual of transition transformed by modern technical civilization, which in prehistoric times served as a test of resilience and ability, through which the individual earned the opportunity to reproduce. "
Of course, Da’an had to describe a prom with typical analytics, which immediately took away his fun.
"We see it more as an excuse to get drunk and some shy groping," he said with a smile, earning only a puzzled look. He wasn't sure if Da'an had anything to say about drinking alcohol or understood the euphemism of ‘groping’, but he didn't want to explain anything to him anyway, so he preferred to change the subject.
"Something tells me that the Taeloni have nothing like proms."
"We don't even have anything like high school. Or schools. ”
He raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“How can you not have schools? Somehow you have to learn to speak, read and write - or even all that science. "
"The truth is that our offspring are born with most of the knowledge and memories of their primary parent and a small part of the memories and knowledge of the donor parent," Da'an replied, sliding his palm down to his elbow and finally putting his hand completely away to give it to her. he could copy the shape of a horizontal figure eight in the air, as was his custom when explaining something. “And then through the community can easily many more experiences and knowledge. As a result, our young people do not have to waste time learning the basics and can contribute to questions that have not yet been satisfactorily answered with their newly acquired individual thinking. ”
Boone chuckled in disbelief and shook his head.
"I'm not surprised you're so far ahead of us in development," he said. "We humans are born completely unconscious and defenseless, and it takes us years to learn to speak and walk. What to read, write or dalšího anything else. We will spend two decades learning before we are even ready to take care of ourselves. ”
"I am aware of how difficult each person must go, and I appreciate all that your scientists come up with. As a result, your every thought is filled with… the intransigence, determination, and hard work that ..., ”here he sighed almost humanly, wandering for a brief look into the distance before turning back to Boon with an expression reminiscent of fatigue. "You people have a zeal that we Taalons have been missing for a very long time. It is in your strong will to survive, in your music and dance, in everything I have seen on this planet so far. I envy you the fire, William Boone, and I regret that I will never really be able to experience it.
There was a melancholy in his voice that froze. Instinctively, he longed to say or do something that would bring to her face again the gentle smile he played there throughout their dance, but he didn't know how to do it. If she were a human woman, he would hug her. Really and firmly, maybe he would even kiss her.
Yes, it would probably have done under other circumstances, and especially if Da’an had been really human, and at worst it would have been embarrassing. At best, it would be the first kiss, perhaps a little clumsy, that they would remember with a smile in a few months. But under the circumstances, he was painfully aware of their differences, and this sent an icy fist into his gut. He realized all too clearly that he was human and Da’an Taelon.
Da’an must have noticed the change in his mood, as his melancholy was replaced by the fear of placing his palm on Boon's forearm again.
"What happened, Commander?" he asked urgently.
"Nothing - nothing, I just suddenly realized how different we are. Can we ever understand each other? To live together side by side? ” he asked not only Da’an, but especially himself, because suddenly his own thoughts and feelings of the last few weeks had become even more absurd than before.
Da'an, though almost human in appearance, was so different from a man — a man or a woman, it was secondary — that he probably couldn't even understand the significance of Boon's attraction to him, even if he could finally express it in words or deeds. . It was simply beyond his comprehension, no matter how mature his mind was.
"I can promise that the Companions will stay close as long as people need us, and all the while we will strive for mutual understanding," Da’an replied diplomatically.
Bonne shook his head and sighed for a moment.
"I didn't mean that," he said as he looked again at the crystal blue eyes staring at him. "I'll leave out how little you told us. About myself and the reasons you're here, because I didn't mean it. What I have come across is… especially you, Da’ane, often talking about the fate of the Taelons and the People. That sometime in the future we will be equal, that we may even be more than one nation. But is it even possible? Can Taeloni and Humans ever come so close? Understand? Merge?" he paused, but only briefly, for a moment, giving himself the courage to ask the last question: "Is there already a hint that this will happen, or is it just a pious wish?"
At first it seemed that not only was Da’an not answering, but even that questions had touched him in some way, because his face had lost its expression and looked as inhuman as when he had first seen him speak to people through a television screen five years ago. He was so distant then and unlike the Da’an he knew today.
He further boosted Boone's impression that he had asked inappropriate questions by letting his hand drop from his arm and stepping back from the embrace of his arm, which he had hitherto endured without the slightest hint of displeasure. He immediately ignited a little hope in him when he not only did not free his other hand from his hold, but only turned it so that they touched and their fingertips pointed upwards.
Although it was strange, the seemingly innocent gesture, it was something intimate. Perhaps it was because even though he saw Taelon offer a man or another Taelon a hand, it was always palm up. This was different and important to Da’an, because not only did he feel even more intense tingling on his skin than usual, but he also sensed the physical pressure that Taelon had exerted on his hand.
"Unlike my companions," Da'an said at last, his voice quieter and softer than usual, "I am convinced that the life force and mind of at least some people are already strong enough to merge with Taelon and to each other. Satisfaction to share what they hide inside. But I'm afraid that fear and perhaps a lack of desire on both sides, "he looked up from their joined hands," prevents a deeper connection than a mere touch. But I believe, "a smile lifted one corner of his lips," that if there was one Taelon and one Man who had the courage, mutual trust, and curiosity, they could experience unexpected things together. "
Boone's breath caught in his throat, his heart began to grow faster, and though it didn't make sense at all, he felt a desire. An intense, barely restrained need to either ask Da’an to show him what he was talking about or, on the contrary, grab him by the hips in complete humanity, push him against a stone railing and kiss him with a fever he had not experienced in years.
He didn't do any of that. He couldn't. Instead, and despite what he wished for, he remained silently staring into Da’an's eyes, hoping to understand his unspoken embarrassment and apprehension. Although he wanted to be the first person to find the courage in his mind, he could not. Maybe it was too soon after the death of his beloved Katy, who still filled his thoughts and had his heart. Maybe one day he will find the courage… but maybe not. He himself wasn't sure yet.
Whether Da’an understood his dilemma or not, he couldn't tell, but she dropped her hand anyway and stepped back.
"I am afraid that despite the pleasant time I have spent here with you, my duties as a North American companion will not allow me to stay here with you any longer. Please, if you want to continue meditating, you can. Your presence is not required, ”Da’an told him much more formally than he had spoken a moment ago, and waved to him in the same way as when he had dismissed him from the interview.
Then, as quietly as only the Taelons could, he sailed past Boone, and for a moment he seemed to return to the ballroom without anything else. But then he stopped and looked over his shoulder out of the corner of his eye.
"However, your presence will be extremely welcome," he added again in a soft voice, even adding a small smile that was almost flirtatious, and then turned away again.
The glass door closed behind Da’an. Boone watched his receding figure for a moment, then straightened his jacket and followed him.
END