Archive of Our Own ^beta

Clementine wasn’t exactly sure where her mother’s Sovereign Immunity was taking her. She was trying not to ask too many questions, because outside of her tutors this was highly discouraged, and even her tutors got an annoyed look to them after the fifth question or so, as though she wasn’t behaving. Behaving was very important, and involved a lot of being quiet and sitting still, both of which were difficult and annoying to do for long periods of time. Sovereign had always given her more leeway than most, especially when it came to what members of her mother’s personal staff would normally allow, but Clementine was always wary that someone’s good favour could vanish just as easily as it arrived.

That’s what her mother said, anyway. It was her mother’s job to know things like that, and one day it would be Clementine’s job too, if she behaved well enough and managed to be a little prettier and cleverer than she was currently. Her mother said that, too. Clementine wished on every item of luck from every culture she could find for such a thing to happen faster than it was, because her tutors and her mother had made it very clear that it wasn’t happening fast enough.

Sovereign’s expression wasn’t anything like Crysanth’s, but it did have the same focus to it when he looked at her sometimes. It made Clementine feel pinned under it, sure she was doing something wrong even though she hadn’t done anything yet. He looked that way the most often when he was giving her instructions . This made sense, as her last tutor had told her that she was abysmal at following instructions.

Crysanth had fired the man personally . It hadn’t made Clem feel any better, but that probably hadn’t been the point.

Still, Clem didn’t want Sovereign to get fired. Even if he normally couldn’t visit her for very long, she liked that he always made a point to see her. It made her feel just as special as everyone said she was.

“But if I can’t tell anyone that I’m Clementine Kesh,” asked Clem slowly, trying very carefully to pick only her most appropriate words, “how will they know I’m from House Kesh? How will they know I'm important ?”

“They won’t,” said Sovereign.

Clem frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. My mother says I am a representative of House Kesh at all times. She said it's important to make sure people remember who I am and how powerful and important our family is."

She had to pronounce the word representative slower than her mother said it, but she felt proud at getting the word out correctly. Sovereign did not look as pleased as Clem had expected. If anything he looked a little pained, like the staff who sometimes had to interrupt Crysanth’s dinner with urgent news.

“Clementine…” Sovereign let out a long breath. “Your mother… Well, she doesn’t always know everything, or the… the right way to be all the time.”

This obviously didn’t make sense either, but Clem pressed her lips together to stop herself from saying anything. Adults got mad when she asked them to explain themselves too many times, or they left entirely, and she most definitely did not want to get left by herself on the dingy spaceship they were currently travelling on. They’d changed modes of transportation several times now, each more worn-down looking than the last. Sovereign looked very apologetic about it, so she was doing her best to pretend she wasn't bothered by such things.

“It’s… I understand that this might be difficult for you,” Sovereign was saying as Clem tuned back into his voice, “but your mother… she isn’t really… She’s not a good person Clementine.”

“I see,” said Clem, wondering what being good was supposed to do with anything or why Sovereign thought it was noteworthy that her mother wasn’t good.

Being good was something Clem was supposed to do when they had visitors and seemed to involve a lot of being quiet, eating food very neatly and carefully, and answering questions from her mother very quickly. Her mother never yelled, or played outside and dirtied her clothes, and she ate without ever smudging her lipstick, and she always had a quick answer to anyone’s question. Sometimes what she said made people look a little afraid, or laugh, or both at once. If that wasn’t good, then what was ? If that wasn’t good, then why was she supposed to be good (whatever that was ) instead of like Crysanth?

She sighed. Sometimes Sovereign could be just as confusing as all the others.

“I- Someday I’ll explain it all to you, but something… something happened, and I was going to have to leave,” said Sovereign.

Clem nodded. This was Sovereign’s job, as she understood it. He left, and then he came back for a little while, and then he left again. Sometimes her mother would call him while he was away and Clem would sneak down and listen outside of the door, though she didn’t really understand anything they said to each other. She assumed it was the kind of adult thing she would understand eventually, like the complicated screens her mother worked from or how the servants managed to braid her hair without it turning into a big tangle. Something she would understand once she was smarter and prettier.

“And I get to come with you this time,” said Clem, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.

It had been all very rushed, but sometimes things happened quickly like that, moving from palace to palace without anybody telling her about it beforehand. There were usually more servants with her, and usually the transport ship was nicer, but Sovereign was with her so it made sense that things were a little different.

She usually didn’t leave while everyone else was asleep either, but maybe that was just how Sovereign always travelled. He was usually gone when she woke up and he never really wanted to tell her about his time away. It was very exciting to be able to go with him this time.

“Yes,” said Sovereign, an odd expression on his face. “Yes, you get to come with me this time. It wasn’t- I thought it would be best if you did.”

“I see,” said Clem again. She paused. “Will mother- Will Crysanth meet us at our destination?”

“I hope not,” said Sovereign.

Clem frowned.

“Uh, I mean- No,” said Sovereign. “No, she’s- busy right now.”

“Oh,” said Clem, nodding. “Yes, of course.”

That made sense, at least. Her mother was often very busy, and that was why it was extra important to be good.

“Who will we be meeting with when we arrive?” asked Clem.

This seemed like a safer line of questioning than asking further about her mother. Sovereign’s expression lightened slightly, enough for Clem to feel pleased with herself for thinking of it. It was always difficult to find the right sort of question to ask people that didn’t annoy them.

“I’ll be meeting with- There are some people, some farmers, that need my help,” said Sovereign.

“But you don’t know anything about farming,” said Clem. “I’ve never seen you farm anything.”

Sovereign gave her a faint, tired smile. “I guess I haven’t done it in a while, but farming’s not really what they need my help with.” He looked up at the glowing clock above the door. “Ah, time for you to get some sleep.”

“But I’m not even tired,” said Clem.

“Not right now,” said Sovereign, “but once we get there, there’ll be a lot to do and you’ll be glad you got the rest.”

Clem wrinkled her nose. Sovereign laughed, making Clem immediately forget her irritation. Other servants never laughed, at least not where they thought he could hear them. It always made her feel like Sovereign was really looking at her, instead of the spot just over her shoulder that other servants always seemed to be looking at.

She didn’t even mind that there were no attendants to help her dress for bed. It made her feel very grown up to have to take care of things like that by herself. Maybe when they got back she would dismiss that part of the staff. After all, she was very nearly seven years old and Crysanth didn’t have people helping her to dress, and neither did Sovereign, which meant it was obviously something one was expected to grow out of. Crysanth might even be impressed that she’d progressed to not needing such things sooner than Crysanth expected.

Clem’s stomach squirmed at the thought and she hurriedly pushed the thought out of her mind, climbing up into the little bunk above Sovereign’s bed. He turned out all the lights except the small lamp he was using to read by, nodding to her.

“Goodnight Clementine,” said Sovereign.

“Goodnight,” said Clem.

She drew the covers up around her face and closed her eyes. When she was sure that he had become absorbed in his book she opened them again, watching him read until her eyes grew too heavy to keep open.

----

The planet was dry, their feet kicking dust from unfinished roads into the air as they walked. Clem’s shoes were starting to pinch her toes like they did towards the end of long cocktails parties. They had been walking a dreadfully long amount of time and Clem was starting to feel very tired, even though Sovereign had begun carrying her little suitcase for her. Clem looked up at him, his face in the shadow of her suitcase where he’d hoisted it onto his broad shoulders. Clem flexed her hands. She should have thought of carrying it like that. She’d carried it by the handle and only succeeded in giving herself a blister on her palm.

Thankfully Sovereign hadn’t been angry about that, just offered to start carrying her suitcase for a while. He was obviously just too nice to tell her that she’d been carrying it wrong. Crysanth was always saying he was coddling her about things like that, not allowing her to get in trouble like he ought to. Clem hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble for the blister. It would probably be healed enough to be covered by gloves by the time they got back, anyway.

Sovereign slowed to a stop, looking up at a battered road sign. He nodded to himself and Clem copied the motion, making his expression change for a moment into a tired and warm smile.

“Almost there now,” said Sovereign. “Do you- Let’s take a rest for a moment, drink some water.”

He put down the suitcase so she could sit down on it, taking a small sip of the canteen before he passed it to her. Clem was careful to take an equally small sip before passing it back to him. She was very thirsty, but she wasn’t supposed to gulp down water even if she’d been running around, and the water had a stale, metallic taste to it.

“Now Clementine,” said Sovereign, “you remember what I said about your name, when we get there.”

“I’m just Clementine,” said Clem, trying not to sound as irritated as she felt about it. “I’m the niece of a friend of yours that you’re looking after because my poor father has died.”

At least that last part was easier to remember. Crysanth always said her father was dead, a little-known war hero gone missing on some far-away planet, too far and too little-known for pictures. Sometimes Clem thought she could just picture him, a towering figure with kind eyes, but it was probably just her imagination.

“Right,” said Sovereign. “Just… don’t tell anybody that doesn’t ask, okay? We’re trying to keep you in low profile.”

Clem nodded. That part of things she understood as well. When Crysanth entertained visitors, Clem was to be barely seen and never heard. She wasn’t to talk to people who didn’t talk to her, and no one ever talked to her. They were only there to speak to her mother, and once they arrived wherever they were going she assumed those same kinds of people would probably only approach them to speak to Sovereign. 

“Once I know them a little better we’ll see about getting you into a school here or something,” said Sovereign. “Worse comes to worst I can tutor you in the basics.”

“I didn’t think we’d be here that long,” said Clem, frowning.

“We- Well it all depends,” said Sovereign, which was the sort of thing adults said when they thought she wouldn’t be able to understand the answer.

Clem nodded, trying to convey trust rather than annoyance. She wished he would just tell her, but people never seemed to want to tell her things. It was always something they weren’t allowed to say (her servants) or they were trying to teach her something else (her tutors) or it was part of a complicated game she was meant to be learning (Crysanth). It all felt very purposely difficult, like some kind of trick or a riddle she couldn’t figure out.

They arrived as the sun was setting, Sovereign leaving her to wait just outside the door of one of the larger ramshackle structures while he spoke to someone. The princept of the farmers, Clem imagined, since they were obviously there as part of Sovereign’s diplomatic work.

“And the child?” asked the person Sovereign was speaking to.

“An emergency situation,” said Sovereign. “She- There was no one else left to watch over her. I couldn’t just leave her behind to be devoured. She won't be any trouble.”

Clem rocked back and forth on her sore feet to distract herself from the ache of them. Maybe her mother had sent her with Sovereign as a way to teach her the diplomatic process. The thought was a pleasing one - Sovereign was likely to give a favourable report to Crysanth even if she only produced what her tutors referred to as middling results , and sometimes could even be persuaded into telling her a story about his very long life, or about people that were from the made up land of the twilight mirage. Yes, she decided, this would be a very successful first mission, and when she returned her mother would for once be impressed with her progress.

Sleep came easily to her that night despite the dusty, hard mattress she’d been given, her body tired from walking and her mind soothed by the thought of her mother’s approval.

----

Despite Sovereign’s promise of tutoring her, Clem found that for the most part she was left as alone as if she had remained in the palace. He even asked her to stay inside the shack she assumed was supposed to be their temporary accommodations while he went out. At least her rooms in the palace had had toys and games and an easy to open window for sneaking out into the garden. This shack held no toys or games and was very difficult to sneak out of, or at least it was until she realised that the wooden boards of the wall behind the cupboard were loose enough that she could push them aside to wriggle between them.

At first she didn’t go far, just peering around the sides of the shack. Sovereign had chosen one that was a little apart from the others, closer to a line of trees that signalled the beginning of the forest than to the other farms and houses, their leaves and bark an odd golden colour. Clem could just make out a schoolhouse in the distance, the small figure of the teacher ringing the bell outside each morning and the even smaller cluster of children that would surround her before following her inside. They all seemed very curiously eager for their studies. Perhaps it was different when you studied as a group. She hadn't really liked parties very much until the Garantines had begun to bring their daughter along.

Gucci said they'd be going to boarding school together, when it came time for such things. The thought made Clem’s stomach squirm pleasantly, like diving from a very high place. They’d be able to do all kinds of things together, Gucci said, sports and swimming and things, and she’d introduce her to other girls that Gucci knew. It would be like being at a party with her all the time.

Clem poked around at the edge of the forest a little, too wary of the yellow-tinted gloom to breach the treeline. When Sovereign still said nothing about it after a week had gone by she got a little bolder, playing behind one of the other houses, and then looking at the little stream that ran nearby and then, finally, the farms themselves.

They fascinated her a little - there were always people out there, doing some kind of unfathomable task in unison. She took caution in her approach, avoiding the areas that were always populated and instead going to the spot furthest from the storage shed. There was only even one very tall person who looked after this particular part of the farms, and Clem felt confident that she could avoid them long enough to work out what exactly people did on farms that Sovereign was supposed to be helping with.

She’d watched the palace gardeners work sometimes, from up in her playroom. That also involved digging in the ground and putting something inside the dirt, and then pouring water and things over it until something flowered. There weren’t any flowers in the dirt here, just long divots in the ground and tiny little dots where someone had carefully watered. Clem crouched down, prodding at the damp earth with her finger.

“Please do not disturb the seeds,” said a voice behind her.

Clem finched, quickly standing up and turning around, trying to wipe the dirt off her hands behind her back. She had to crane her neck to look up at the speaker - a huge robot shaped like a Hypha towered over her. Her eyes pulsed with blue-white light as she looked down at Clem. It was impossible to tell how angry she was at Clem, which made Clem’s stomach twist around itself.

“I wasn’t,” said Clem quickly. “There’s not even any seeds in there.”

“Yes there are,” said the Hypha robot. “I planted them myself.”

“Well I didn’t see any,” said Clem.

“Many kinds of seeds are too small to see, especially once they are in the ground,” said the Hypha robot. 

“Then how do you know where they are?” asked Clem.

“I commit their location to my memory banks,” said the Hypha robot. “I am also able to enhance my vision to more easily detect them than the organic human eye is capable of.”

That at least made sense. Clem let out a breath, steadying herself.

“Then I apologise for, um. For breaking your seeds,” said Clem.

“They are not broken,” said the Hypha robot. “You did not disturb the soil a sufficient amount to cause harm.”

“Oh,” said Clem. “Well. Good.”

“It is good,” said the Hypha robot. “It is optimal that they not to be too disturbed before I can supply them with adequate fertilisation. Once they have a root system they will become hardier.”

“What’s a root system?” said Clem.

“It grows underground,” said the Hypha robot. She paused. “I have heard human describe it to their young as the plant’s feet.”

“But my feet don’t go under the ground,” said Clem.

“Yes, it has never made sense to me either,” said the Hypha robot.

Clem smiled. The robot’s eyes pulsed again as she looked down at Clem but this time Clem felt comforted by it rather than afraid.

“Do you work here?” asked Clem.

“Yes,” said the robot.

“Why aren’t there any more of you?” asked Clem. “Where did you come from?”

“I do not know,” said the robot. “The people here dug me out of one of the fields. I have no memory of before that time. I do not know if there are more of me.”

“Oh,” said Clem. “I’m sorry.”

“You do not have to be sorry,” said the robot. “You were not present, and it does not make me unhappy to think of it. I enjoy my work at present.”

“I don’t have any work at present,” said Clem. “I thought Sovereign was going to teach me how to be a diplomat but he won’t let me leave the house.”

“You are not currently in a house,” said the robot.

Clem glanced behind her. There was no one else around, the only other people out working the field too far away to see properly. Surely they were too far away to overhear, and the chances that listening devices had been hidden in the soil seemed slim.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” said Clem. “I think… I think he doesn’t want people to remember I’m here.”

Clem pressed her lips together - she'd gotten so carried away, and surely this robot would report her for speaking out of turn, or tell her the ways she was being foolish, or fall into the kind of horrible silence her tutors did when she forgot one too many answers-

“I do not understand,” said the robot.

Clem, who had never heard an adult claim to not understand something, felt a rush of relief so strong she almost felt dizzy. “You don’t?”

“The farm needs many people to work it. Pretending we have fewer numbers does not help this endeavour,” said the robot.

Clem’s relief vanished. “Oh I couldn’t help with that. I don’t know anything about farming.”

“I can teach you, if you wish to learn,” said the robot.

“I…” Clem’s hands flexed behind her back and she desperately searched for the least disappointing series of words. “My tutors say I’m not very good at learning new concepts.”

“I am not a tutor,” said the robot. “It is simple to learn to dig a hole. I have a new plot to work on this week. Come back tomorrow and I will teach you.”

Clem squeezed her hands together to quiet her outward reaction. “I would- That would be- Thank you. I would like that, I think.” She paused. “What is your name?”

Her eyes pulsed again. “I am called Thisbe.” 

Clem extended a hand. “I am Clementine Kesh-” She covered her mouth. “Oh, no, please forget I said that. I’m not supposed to say that. Please don’t tell Sovereign I told you that.”

“I will keep such details to myself Operant Kesh,” said Thisbe.

Clem’s stomach squirmed. "I- Please don't call me that.”

Thisbe paused. “Is there a reason that I should not refer to you in this way?”

“I… Sovereign said I’m not supposed to say the Kesh part and it makes me feel like- It sounds like what my mother would be called. I shouldn't be called that. She wouldn't like it,” said Clem.

“What should I call you?” asked Thisbe.

“Just Clementine,” said Clem. “Please.”

Thisbe nodded. “Very well Operant Clementine.”

Again Clem felt a rush of relief, letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. 

“Thank you…” She paused, searching for the right term. She wasn't sure what people called each other on farming worlds, so it seemed safest to copy what Thisbe had done. Her tutors had told her to do that if she wasn't sure, after all. “Thank you, Operant Thisbe.”

Clem stuck out her hand again. Thisbe looked at her hand and then back up at Clem’s face. Clem blushed.

“You shake hands to seal a contract or agreement,” said Clem.

“Very well, Operant Clementine,” said Thisbe.

Thisbe’s hand was enormous, the sun-warmed metal engulfing Clem’s fingers. “Our contract is sealed.”

Clem nodded, feeling very official and grown up. “Yes. I will see you tomorrow to begin my training.”

Thisbe nodded, carefully letting go of Clem’s hand. Clem headed back in the direction of Sovereign’s house, pausing at the edge of Operant Thisbe’s plot of land to turn and wave at her. Although Thisbe had been facing away, she also turned around. After a moment she waved her hand. Clem felt as though she could see the approving pulse of Thisbe's eyes even across the distance between them.

----

“You seem in high spirits tonight Clementine,” said Sovereign.

Clem stilled where she’d been bouncing a little in her seat. “Sorry.”

“No, no,” said Sovereign. “I meant it’s good to see. I know it can’t be easy, being cooped up in here all day. I promise, as soon as I make some real headway, then it’ll be safe enough for you to meet everyone.”

“Right,” said Clem, her good mood slipping away from her.

She would just have to become very proficient, enough that when Sovereign found out about her going outside to learn from Operant Thisbe that he wouldn’t be embarrassed about other people knowing about her.

After all, he was here to do farming as well. The few times she'd gone on a voyage with her mother, Crysanth had requested her attendance at certain parties and asked that she speak with specific people about specific topics, which Clem understood was also Crysanth’s role at such events. Surely, if Sovereign did farming and then he learnt that she had also become an efficient farmer, he would be pleased. Perhaps he would then even be even more favourable in his report to her mother.

----

“Oh I can't do that,” said Clem, after Thisbe explained what her farming task entailed, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “I’ll get too dirty.”

“That is an expected part of it,” said Thisbe.

“But I'm not allowed to get dirty,” said Clem.

“Then you will not be able to farm,” said Thisbe, her white-blue eyes unblinking as she looked down at Clem 

Clem frowned. “But you're not dirty, and you farm every day.”

“I clean myself afterwards, to prevent rusting.”

“Oh!” said Clem. “I can do that .”

“You do not rust, Operant Clementine,” said Thisbe.

Clem laughed, quickly covering her mouth to muffle the sound.

“Did I say something amusing, Operant Clementine?”

“Yes,” said Clem, still giggling a little. “I don't rust, because I am not a robot. It was a silly thing to say-” Panic suddenly struck her. “Not that I think you're silly or that you say silly things all the time. I assumed you were joking. I apologise, Operant Thisbe.”

“No apology is required,” said Thisbe. “I do not joke, but I can see how that statement would have been amusing.”

Thisbe didn't seem angry or displeased with her. As she had the previous day, Clem felt a rush of relief.

“Your purpose of bathing will simply be to remove the dirt,” continued Thisbe.

Clem nodded, thinking of the small stream. She could easily wash there, and Sovereign would never even know she had been dirty at all.

“We will start with simple tasks. I do not have time to watch over you and complete my work as well,” said Thisbe. “I will show you, and then you will complete the task.”

Clem watched carefully as Thisbe took an enormous shovel and drove it into the ground several times, eventually digging a large hole. She then took a plant from the trailer next to her, carefully placing it in the hole and covering the roots with soil before she took a small step to the left and repeated the same set of motions again. She looked back up at Clem.

“Do you understand the task, Operant Clementine?”

“Yes,” said Clem. “It's just digging a hole. Is that what farming is?”

“It is part of it,” said Thisbe. “Now, begin.”

Clem took the shovel, staggering a little with the weight of it. She tried to drive it into the soil, as Thisbe had, but it was much harder than Thisbe had made it seem. Tears sprang into her eyes and she quickly blinked, trying to clear them away before they could be seen.

“Is something wrong, Operant Clementine?”

“No, everything's fine,” said Clem, struggling to fling the dirt out of the tiny divot she’d created in the ground.

“Perhaps another human being would be a more suitable instructor,” said Thisbe. “You appear to be struggling.”

“ No !” said Clem. She stopped, breathing hard and gripping the shovel with both hands. “Please don't ask anyone else, they'll tell Sovereign and I don't want him to know yet.”

“I do not understand,” said Thisbe.

“I don't want him to know about it until I'm good at it,” said Clem. “That way I won't get in trouble.”

“I do not see why you would get in trouble for attempting a new skill,” said Thisbe.

“I don't know why either,” said Clem, scowling at the dirt as she hacked at it with the shovel. “But it always happens.”

“That would make it difficult to learn tasks that are new to you. I will not tell anyone,” said Thisbe. “I will get you a smaller shovel.”

“I don't need a baby shovel,” said Clem, her words vanishing in an exclamation of annoyance as Thisbe plucked the shovel from her hands, handing her a smaller one. Clem tested it - the small shovel head made less of a dent in the earth than Thisbe’s but it was easier to lean her weight on it to get leverage against the soil. “Oh. Um. Thank you Operant Thisbe.”

Thisbe nodded, quietly watching as Clem dug the hole and picked up a plant.

“You must use care for this part,” said Thisbe, “the plant cannot defend itself against harm as you can. You must be gentle.”

Clem pictured the plant as a delicate teacup, carefully placing it in the hole and brushing dirt on top of it as Thisbe had done.

Thisbe nodded. “Good.”

Clem inhaled sharply, looking up at her. “Really?” She cleared her throat, brushing her hands off on her skirts. “I mean. Of course it is.”

Thisbe watched her do one more before nodding and heading back towards her own stretch of land.

“I will return later to assist you with watering,” said Thisbe.

Clem nodded, focussed on the task of pushing the shovel into the soil. After a while her arms began to ache, and then her back, and then her legs, as though she was in a very long, very strenuous dance class. She blinked, and she had completed a whole row, the sun much higher in the sky than it had been. Her stomach growled, and she realised with a jolt that she was hungry.

She looked around for Thisbe, spotting her in the far corner to the field, examining some of Clem’s earlier work. Clem’s stomach twisted. She wondered if Thisbe was the kind of tutor who made a student do the work over again, or if she were the kind of tutor who simply said they would no longer do the work again once Clem had failed at it.

Her stomach grumbled again, prompting her forward. Thisbe stood up as she approached, casting Clem in shadow.

“I stopped because I was hungry,” said Clem quickly.

Thisbe nodded. “The other human farmers have changed shifts to eat.”

“Oh,” said Clem. “I wasn’t sure if that was allowed.”

“It is permitted to eat when you are hungry,” said Thisbe. “I brought you one of their lunch pails.”

She gestured to the small metal container that was hung on the end of the trailer. Clem carefully opened it, peering inside. There was a sandwich, a boiled egg, a small cold baked potato and a little flask of something that turned out to be some of the metallic-tasting water.

“Thank you,” said Clem.

She bit into the sandwich. It was a little warm from being in the sun, but the bread was as fresh as if it was from the palace kitchens. It took half a sandwich for her to remember her manners, although if Thisbe was offended she didn’t show it.

“I thought that you would not have remembered,” said Thisbe. 

Clem carefully swallowed the bite she was chewing before saying anything. “I didn’t even know that bringing your own lunch was part of it.”

“That is why I brought you this,” said Thisbe. “Now you will know to bring one, for tomorrow.”

“Oh,” said Clem, “So I should… Would that be alright? If I came back?”

“Your work is adequate,” said Thisbe. “Once you have eaten, I will show you how to effectively water the seedlings you have planted. Tomorrow, you will work on completing the field.”

“So I didn’t… It’s not bad then, what I’ve done?” said Clem. “Or, not bad enough that I need to redo it?”

“As I said, it is adequate,” said Thisbe. “You can complete the field in this manner.”

“Oh, well… that’s… good,” said Clem.

She finished the sandwich, taking a small sip of the water before she paused, looking up at Thisbe again.

“Do you eat?” asked Clem.

Thisbe paused. “No. I am a robot.”

“Oh, yes. Right. Of course,” said Clem. “I suppose I forgot.”

“That is a strange thing to forget, Operant Clementine.”

“I don’t think so, you don’t talk like a robot,” said Clem.

“I am a robot, and so I do talk like a robot,” said Thisbe. “This is how robots talk.”

“No, you don’t,” said Clem, “you talk like… I don’t know. You talk like everyone else. You talk even nicer than some people.”

“Is that a good thing?” said Thisbe.

“Oh yes, definitely,” said Clem. “You haven’t even yelled at me once.”

“I don’t believe I was programmed to yell,” said Thisbe. She paused. “I suppose when I am broadcasting a message signal, that is a kind of yelling.”

“You can broadcast messages too?”

“I am not often required to,” said Thisbe, “but it is within my capabilities.”

“I wish I could do that,” said Clem.

“You can,” said Thisbe, “by using a communication tower.”

“Oh that’s not as impressive,” said Clem. “Do learn to take a compliment Operant Thisbe.”

Thisbe paused. “I will try to, Operant Clementine.”

Clem drained the last of the water, wrinkling her nose at the taste. “I’m ready to return to the lesson Operant Thisbe.”

“Very well,” said Thisbe, “follow me, Operant Clementine.”

----

The changing seasons were fascinating to Clem. She rarely stayed anywhere for so long, certainly not long enough to watch as the leaves of the forest change from yellows to reds to purples, piles of red-purple leaves gathered by the farmers for fuel or something Thisbe referred to as compost . Clem’s lessons changed locations from the fields to the greenhouses, sneaking out of the tiny shack at night to help Thisbe under the soft glow of the grow lights.

Clem felt as though she were changing too - the blisters on her palms callused over; her nail polish wore off; she dressed herself every day and put up her own hair. It wasn’t as complicated a style as the ones her servants would do, but it stopped it getting tangled in the wind and kept it out of her face. She complained of sunburns and freckles; Thisbe showed her how to weave a hat together out of the dry reeds that grew by the river. Sovereign didn’t say anything about the changes. He seemed a little, to Clem, like her mother lately - too busy to be able to take any real notice of her. Whenever he was home with her she tried to be on her very best behaviour, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. That was like her mother, too. He didn’t yell, but it didn’t feel as though he saw her either.

He still hadn’t introduced her to anyone else. Whenever she asked, using the most polite words she could think of, he told her it would happen soon, or that it was too dangerous, or that he was waiting for the right time. Clearly, whatever measure adults used to assess whether someone was good enough to be seen by others, she hadn’t managed to reach it yet.

Sometimes she worried it was because he knew, somehow, that she’d been sneaking out to Thisbe every day, but he never mentioned that. He didn’t seem to notice when her shoes were dirty or her skirts still dripping wet from where she’d washed them in the river on the way home. Not very observant, thought Clem, in her mother’s voice.

Thisbe noticed such things. It was Thisbe who told Clem that she should bring a change of clothes so she would have to walk home soaking wet. It was Thisbe who sat with her while Clem ate whatever lunch she’d managed to scrape together from what Sovereign had put in the cupboard. It was Thisbe who noticed that she’d gotten stronger, able to do more work, how she’d gotten better at remembering what steps went in what order.

Clem sat up straighter. “Thank you Operant Thisbe.” She pressed her lips together, pushing aside a burst of nerves to add, “You are a very good tutor.”

“It is merely an observation,” said Thisbe, her voice as calm and even as ever.

Clem felt calm like that sometimes now. She never had before - in the palace she’d often felt like a coiled spring, pushed down harder and harder and the force would explode out of her and she’d stomp around, throwing whatever seemed most breakable or climbing out of the window with the kind of purposeful recklessness that made servants scream and run about. Now the spring felt stretched out, relaxed, or perhaps that it had been put inside a large machine, the coiled energy put to better use than breaking dolls and tea cups.

As the air grew colder Thisbe even began mentioning that she would expand Clem’s lessons to assisting her in seasonal maintenance of the mechs and farm machinery. Clem, who was still not quite over the novelty of being allowed to have dirty hands, was thrilled. She’d never had such a good tutor before, or one who let her do so many things that she normally wasn’t allowed to do.

Thisbe led Clem to the shed where she lived, a cavernous structure made of tin that rattled in the wind. Like Sovereign’s little shack, it was apart from the others, in a patch where the trees were just beginning to be cleared away. There wasn’t much inside, even compared to the shack Sovereign had, just a mat on the floor next to some rechargeable battery packs. Most of the space was taken up by an enormous mech, the biggest Clem had ever seen.

“He is named Mow,” said Thisbe. “We will work to complete his repairs, and then we will be able to use him to assist with the harvest.”

“Nice to make your acquaintance Mow,” said Clem.

Thisbe tilted her head slightly. Clem smiled back.

She tried to keep her good mood to herself, keeping her head down once Sovereign returned home that evening. She’d been hoping that he would be absent that night, leaving her free to smile with impunity and maybe even sneak back out again. He was rarely home long enough for real sneaking to be required. 

He slept deeply, when he did return, exhaustion clear on his face. He looked much like he did after long meetings with her mother. Clem wondered what they spoke about, but she didn’t dare ask in case it prompted him to send her away. Despite the uncomfortable shack and plain food, she already felt sad about the thought of leaving Operant Thisbe behind. She’d been trying to work on the argument for bringing Thisbe with her in her mind, but it was a difficult case to make, not least because Thisbe herself was reluctant to leave.

“I was made to farm here,” said Thisbe.

“You don’t know that,” said Clem, “that’s just what they said when they dug you up.”

“I like to do it,” said Thisbe. “I like to be of service.”

“You could do that at the palace,” said Clem. “I’d make them give you part of the grounds.”

“That would not be of real service,” said Thisbe.

“Of course it would,” said Clem. “It would serve… You could grow food for the kitchen.”

“I am sure the food supply you already have would be sufficient. The people here do not have the same resources.”

Clem sighed. “I suppose not. I suppose that’s why Sovereign’s here, though it really does seem to be taking him a very long time to secure aid or whatever it is he’s doing.”

“I believe he is helping them to overthrow Kesh forces,” said Thisbe.

Clem paused where she’d been gently shaking a seedling free of it’s too-small pot to swap it for a larger one. “What?”

“Operant Immunity is here to provide strategic aid to the community here,” said Thisbe.

“That can’t be right,” said Clem. “He works for my mother. My mother doesn’t want to overthrow Kesh. You must have misunderstood.”

Thisbe paused. “Perhaps I have.”

“You must have,” said Clem, but the thought made her stomach churn all the same.

The thought itched at her all day no matter how she tried to push it under other, more pleasant thoughts. She couldn’t even enjoy kicking at the piles of leaves on her walk home - she kept thinking the colour of the leaves matched the ceremonial cloak her mother wore on Kesh special holidays. Her mother certainly wouldn’t be very pleased if she were here while Sovereign- While other people were fighting against Kesh forces. She might even think Clem had been trying to do that. And Clem had been outside an awful lot over the summer, her skin much darker, and she probably had new freckles too, her mother always scrutinised for them after they stayed anywhere with sunny weather. Her mother would know she’d gotten her clothes dirty too. She always knew somehow, even when Clem changed outfits entirely.

Sovereign was home that night, looking as tired as even as he poured over some map or other. Clem pretended to work on the same scrap of embroidery that she’d been pretending to work on for the past few months, watching his expression out of the corner of her eye. Sometimes his expression would crumple and he’d pause, scrubbing a hand over his face before he returned to scrolling through his battered datapad or sketching lines over the map.

Clem waited until he stood up to set a pot of coffee over the stove before she stood up, stepping towards the map. It was a map of the solar system around the tiny red moon of Partizan, the planet they were currently on hidden away in a distant corner, the map dotted with symbols she didn’t recognise.

It was probably a map so… so Sovereign could get them both home, Clem told herself. Space travel could be lengthy and complicated, after all. There were probably other stops they would need to make along the way too, for diplomatic purposes and such.

“You should be getting to bed,” said Sovereign.

Clem swallowed, steeling herself. Crysanth always said members of House Kesh should speak with the confidence that befitted their high station.

“I’m glad to see this,” said Clem, gesturing at the map.

Sovereign turned back towards her, frowning. “What? Oh- Clementine, you don’t need to worry about that. We’ll be fine, everything’s going just… everything going fine.”

“It’s perfectly all right,” said Clem, trying desperately to keep her tone light. “It’s just that I was beginning to think that you were never going to take me back. How silly of me.”

Sovereign opened his mouth and then closed it again. “Clementine…”

“No, no,” said Clem quickly. “I know, I was just being foolish. I’m sure you’ve been away from mo- from the palace for much longer than this. I was being childish.”

“Clementine…” said Sovereign softly. “It’s… You have to understand-”

“I do understand,” said Clem. “You are my mother’s Sovereign Immunity, and we are here on a diplomatic voyage so that you can teach me the proper… the proper procedure, the proper deportment for dignitaries to have.”

Sovereign sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Clementine, I’m sorry, I truly thought you’d… We’ve been here so long, I just assumed…” He sighed again. “Clementine, your mother is a truly horrible person-”

“No she’s not,” said Clem.

“She’s a truly horrible, vile person ,” said Sovereign, “who has harmed a lot of people including me, including you . I couldn’t stand it anymore, being her right hand, I had to… I had to… and I couldn’t just leave you there, with her, I-”

“You’re wrong!” said Clem. “She works for the good of Kesh!”

“Well they’re bad too!” said Sovereign. “Clementine, your highness, you- I know you don’t understand it now, but when-”

“When I’m older, when I’m older,” snapped Clem. “People always say that but then they never tell me anything . You’ve never told me anything , you’ve kept me locked away like a- a- a prisoner -” She gasped. “Is that what I am? Is that why you brought me?”

“Clementine, it’s not like that-”

“That’s why you never let anyone see me! That’s why you always wanted me to stay in here!”

“That is not the reason!” said Sovereign, slapping the table to punctuate his sentence. “I did that because if the people here knew who you were they’d tear you apart!”

“But they don’t even know me-”

“They’d know you were Kesh nobility,” said Sovereign. “That would be enough for them.”

“That’s not true ,” said Clem. “House Kesh is beloved!”

“House Kesh is only beloved by House Kesh,” said Sovereign. “And sometimes not even then.”

Clem’s chest felt tight. “Then you must not like me very much at all either. You must want to tear me apart just like they do.”

“Clementine, it’s not as simple as that,” said Sovereign. “You’re my- my-”

“No, no, if you hate everyone from Kesh so much then you must hate me too,” said Clem, blinking back tears.

“I don’t hate you,” said Sovereign, pinching the bridge of his nose.

A lot of her tutors had done that, back at the palace. She’d always overhear them complaining later about how slow she was to pick up on anything they tried to teach her. They seemed to hate her, and they never stayed for very long. Sovereign must hate her. He must wish that he could leave her here, or that he could send her away. He must wish he could tear her apart.

Clem’s hands curled into fists, the rough pads of her fingers pressing into calluses. She would send herself away. That would show him. She stomped over to the door, flinging it open. There was a chill to the night air, the wind blowing Sovereign’s map off the table.

“Clementine, what are you doing?”

“Leaving,” said Clem, “since you hate me so much!”

“Clementine, don’t- I don’t hate you,” said Sovereign, “it’s too dangerous for you to be out there.”

“I’ve been out there all the time!” said Clem. “No one’s ever hurt me.”

Sovereign went still. “When were you out there?”

“Every day,” said Clem, a kind of sick glee rising up in her over the top of the hurt. “I was out there every day and you never even noticed! So you see, not everyone hates me enough to tear me apart on sight!”

“Clementine,” said Sovereign, his voice low, “who did you speak too? Who did you see? This is very important.”

Clem felt a flash of rage, though there wasn’t anything of real value to pick up and throw to properly show it. He truly was just like all the rest of them, telling her things were important and never explaining why, telling her she’d understand when she was older, never really looking at her at all.

“None of your business,” said Clem, as imperiously as she could manage. “In fact, I no longer require your services, Sovereign Immunity. You are dismissed.”

“Clementine-” Sovereign began to say, taking a step forward.

Clem turned and ran.

She could hear Sovereign calling out behind her but she didn’t stop until she reached the stream, running alongside it until she came to the part that was small enough for her to jump over. She ran into the woods, keeping to the edge of the treeline, taking the long, long way around to the shed that Thisbe stayed in.

Clem banged on the door, calling for Thisbe. After a moment, the enormous metal door slid aside, the glow from Thisbe’s eyes illuminating the darkness.

“Operant Clementine? Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” said Clem, and burst into tears.

“Perhaps you had better come inside,” said Thisbe. “There is a storm coming in.”

“Thank you,” said Clem, or tried to say, the words garbled around her sobs.

Clem sat down on one of Mow’s enormous feet, covering her face. She hadn’t cried like this since she was a very small child. She had to control herself. Her mother would- Clem’s throat felt tight, making it hard to draw breath.

Thisbe’s hand came down on her shoulder, the metal cold and heavy. Clem reached up and put her hand over Thisbe’s, feeling the heat of her palm sink into the metal. She swallowed once, twice, trying to get her breathing under control.

“I- I apologise for the intrusion, Operant Thisbe,” said Clem. “I was- Sovereign said- I didn’t know where else to go.”

“It is fine,” said Thisbe. “I do not require rest as you understand it.” She paused. “What did Operant Immunity tell you to cause your distress?”

“He said-” Clem screwed up her expression in an attempt to stop herself from crying embarrassingly again. “He said he hates everyone from Kesh and that we’re never going back! That’s why he- that’s why he wanted me to tell people that ridiculous story about being his niece , that’s why he never wanted me to go outside, that’s why he… why he-”

She swallowed again, pressing a hand to her mouth to stop herself from making any sound. Thisbe’s hand stayed on her shoulder, a solid presence. She could feel Thisbe, quietly waiting, the glow from her eyes illuminating the ground around Clem’s feet.

“He would just have me stay here forever until I… until I disappeared. Until I was no one,” said Clem, her throat tight. “I don’t want to be here and nobody. I want to be a- I want to be the Princept! I'm supposed to be a Princept!”

“I see,” said Thisbe. “Why do you want to be a Princept?”

“Because I'm supposed to be! My mother always says so, that’s why I have to go to all those lessons and do what she says,” said Clem. “And then I’ll be in charge of things.”

“Why do you want to be in charge of things?”

“Because I never get to be,” said Clem, “not really.”

“You are in charge of yourself,” said Thisbe.

Clem’s eyes pricked with tears again. “No I'm not. it's always- even when I had servants, I was never in charge of them, they did whatever the head servants said and the head servants did what mother said, and they told me what to do, or tutors did, or my mother did, and now Sovereign is.”

“I also instruct you,” said Thisbe.

“Yes, but I don't mind when you do it,” said Clem, “you're at least teaching me something useful.”

“It is good that you find it to be useful,” said Thisbe.

Thisbe’s voice was as calm as ever above Clem’s head, as steady as the ground under Clem’s feet, or steadier. Clem took a deep breath in a little easier than she had before.

“Yes,” said Clem, “and I can actually understand what you’re trying to tell me, I don’t have to guess and guess and guess at why you’re asking me something.”

“If you do not understand a task I assign to you, you should ask questions,” said Thisbe.

“Everyone says that,” said Clem, looking up at her, “but you’re the only one who really means it. Everyone else gets angry with me, eventually.”

“Perhaps anger is not in my programming,” said Thisbe.

“That sounds annoying,” said Clem.

“Annoyance is not in my programming either,” said Thisbe.

“I wish it wasn’t in mine,” said Clem.

She wiped her eyes. Her face must be horribly blotchy, but Thisbe didn’t remark on it.

Clem took a deep breath. “Operant Thisbe, would it be alright if I… could I stay here, for a little while?”

“I do not have adequate facilities,” said Thisbe.

“I don’t mind,” said Clem. “I can- I can sleep in Mow’s cabin, you won’t even know I’m here. I can be very quiet.”

“The noise does not bother me,” said Thisbe.

“I will still try to be quiet, and good, and- everything,” said Clem. “Please?”

Thisbe paused. “Very well.”

“Oh- Thank you Operant Thisbe, I- I’m-” Clem clasped her hands together and then, overwhelmed by the swelling feeling in her chest, leant over and hugged the closest part of Thisbe. Thisbe’s knee joint was cold and hard, and Clem immediately felt a little foolish. Thisbe’s hand stayed on Clem’s shoulder though, warmed a little by Clem’s own body heat, so perhaps Thisbe didn’t mind.

“You should rest, Operant Clementine,” said Thisbe.

Clem slept on a bed of the rags and old papers that had gathered inside Mow’s cockpit. She could see Thisbe below her, the tiny points of Thisbe’s eyes bright in the darkness. She looked up at Clem, the light washing over Clem’s face as she fell asleep.

----

Clem didn’t go back in the days that followed. It was perhaps a little childish of her, but every time she thought of seeing Sovereign again her stomach began to twist itself up in knots. If he was wrong, then he had taken her away as a matter of cruelty, a way to hurt her mother, to hurt Kesh, maybe even to try and kill her. If he was right…

If he was right, then the only safe place was with Thisbe.

“You don’t hate Kesh, do you?” asked Clem.

“I do not have any strong feelings one way or the other,” said Thisbe. “I wish only to work.”

Her mother certainly wouldn’t have approved of anything less than full-throated support, but she also wouldn’t have approved of Clem attempting to live by herself in the dark woods of some almost-forgotten planet. If Thisbe was right, and she was in charge of herself, then she would rather stay with Thisbe.

“Well, you don’t hate me ,” asked Clem, her stomach churning, “do you?”

Thisbe’s head tilted down towards her. In the daylight, the glow of her eyes matched the bright blue sky. “No. I do not hate you. You have been a good assistant with the work I do.”

“Oh,” said Clem, her throat tight. “That’s- I’ve never been an assistant before. I’m glad I can be of help.” She paused. “I don’t think I’ve ever been of help before. Not that anyone’s said, at least. Sometimes… Sometimes Sovereign looks at me like my tutors used to, or my mother- not that I'm scared of him, you understand, he would never dare to hurt me, but still I- I know I've let him down somehow and he won't even tell me how. At least my mother pointed out what I'd done wrong so I knew why she thought less of me.” Clem let out a breath, glancing at Thisbe. “You'll tell me when I do something incorrectly, won't you Operant Thisbe?”

“If that is what you would like,” said Thisbe.

“Please,” said Clem, “otherwise it's so dreadfully frustrating.”

“Then I believe that is the best course of action. I hope you will continue to be of help to me,” said Thisbe.

“Of course,” said Clem.

She was half-surprised to find that she meant it.

Assisting Thisbe in repairing Mow was more difficult than learning to dig holes in a field, but Thisbe’s calm never waivered. Clem handed her tools and held wires and sometimes, when more precise work was required, crawled inside parts of the mech. Eventually, it started to feel as natural as the fields had. It was nice to have work to do inside as well, the fields outside covered in snow and frost, the soil too hard to dig.

Mow began to move, a little at a time, until he was really alive again under their hands. Clem tidied the cockpit, working on attaching something for them to hold onto while Mow was in motion and feeling a flame of pride as she leant back to admire her work. Her soldering wasn’t as neat as Thisbe’s and all the screws were mismatched, but it would hold. It would work , and she’d done it all herself .

“I’m much better at this than embroidery, I think,” said Clem.

“I have never seen your embroidery,” said Thisbe.

“That’s because it always got thrown away,” said Clem. “I had some I was pretending to do with- when I got here, but it looked dreadful. There wasn’t any point to it either - with this, we can both hold on at the same time.”

“Yes,” said Thisbe. She tugged on one of the rails Clem had installed, nodding. “This will be very useful.”

Clem beamed. “Thank you Operant Thisbe. I think I like being useful, when it’s for you.”

----

Clem recognised the sound of the Kesh fleet before she saw it. She froze, where she was carrying water towards the greenhouse, watching them fly low overhead before they looped slowly back around. There was an odd sound accompanying them, one Clem had never heard before. It took her a moment to even place what it was.

Gunfire.

She ran to the safety of Thisbe’s shed, the side of it already riddled with bulletholes. The doors were cracked open, just as she’d left it - it was too heavy for her to move on her own. She called out for Thisbe, not sure if she could be heard over the sound of Kesh above them, or her own racing heart.

“I am here, Operant Clementine,” said Thisbe. “I have been given orders to evacuate. You should find Operant Immunity.”

“No!” said Clem.

“He will keep you safe,” said Thisbe. “From what I have heard of him, he is suited to the task.”

“ No !” said Clem. “I want to stay with you! I want to go with you!”

“Operant Clementine-”

“You said I was in charge of me!” said Clem. “You said I could choose where I wanted to go!” Thisbe paused and Clem reached for her, grasping her small hand around Thisbe’s knee. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

“You would not be alone,” said Thisbe. “You would be with Operant Immunity.”

“It’s the same thing,” said Clem. “ Please don’t go without me.”

Thisbe stilled. Outside, gunfire made the ground rattle. Clem resisted the urge to cling to Thisbe’s leg, her breath coming in gasps.

“Very well,” said Thisbe.

“Thank you,” said Clem, the words rushing out with her exhale.

“I will need to leave-”

“I’ll come with you-”

“No,” said Thisbe, her voice firm and steady. “Remain here with Mow. You will need a flight suit to survive the outer atmosphere. I will return shortly. Prepare the cabin for launch.”

“Right away Operant Thisbe,” said Clem.

She hurried to gather whatever supplies might be needed for a launch. She’d never been to a mech launch before, but when she had seen a boat launch they had needed food, and rope, and the captain had given out flowers to all the high-born Kesh ladies. Thisbe’s shed had a box of crackers and some small dried fruits, Clem’s canteen of water and a length of chain that looked enough like a rope if Clem made her eyes go unfocussed. There weren’t any flowers, only some potted plants that Thisbe had been keeping inside to show Clem how different plants looked as they grew. She took the nettle and the dandelion - the dandelion at least would flower, even if it was not presently, and so Clem thought it was probably close enough.

Clem paused, adding her little woven reed hat to the collection as well. She might need it, wherever they were going. There might be more farming for Thisbe to do, and she would be Thisbe’s assistant.

She put everything in Thisbe’s long tool box, hoisting it up into Mow’s cabin. The toolbox had a good seal to it, so that Thisbe’s tools weren’t affected by changes in humidity or temperature, which felt like it would be a useful thing to have in space. She was in the process of securing it to the wall and powering Mow up when Thisbe returned. Thisbe lifted herself easily into the cabin, handing Clem a large grey suit with a murky-looking helmet.

“Put this on quickly,” said Thisbe. “It is urgent we launch as soon as possible.”

“I have prepared our supplies,” said Clem.

She focussed on getting herself into the flight suit, ignoring her flare of nerves Thisbe opened the toolbox. The helmet of the suit was heavy and difficult to see through. Clem wiggled a hand inside it, wiping the inside of her viewscreen with her sleeve.

“The chain will be useful,” said Thisbe.

Clem inhaled sharply, blinking to clear her eyes as they blurred. “Thank you Operant Thisbe.”

Thisbe nodded to her. “Prepare for launch. Ensure you have sufficient fastenings attached.”

“Right, yes,” said Clem.

It was more difficult with the heavy gloves. She’d barely managed to attach herself to the wall before Thisbe was stepping beside her to take hold of the handle next to her, Mow beginning to shake under her feet. There was a rush of sound, almost too loud to hear, and the sensation of moving very fast. Clem squeezed her eyes shut so hard she saw stars and then she saw nothing at all.

When she awoke they were in space.

Clem gasped, flinching as Thisbe put a hand on her shoulder. Thisbe’s eyes were the only light in the darkness, shining down like twin moons.

“Sorry,” said Clem.

“Do not be concerned Operant Clementine,” said Thisbe. “We have made it a great distance.”

“A great distance to where ?” said Clem. “Where are…”

She looked around. They were hanging in nothing, connected to nothing. When she put a hand on the wall to try to steady herself, she felt Mow humming under her hand. She looked up at Thisbe, Thisbe’s eyes a comforting glow above her. Clem looked back out, towards the stars.

“Oh,” said Clem quietly. “I never knew it was so big .”

She immediately felt foolish at the omission, her cheeks flushing with heat.

“Yes,” said Thisbe. “It goes on forever. We could travel forever and never reach the end.”

Clem breathed out. She suddenly felt very small, even smaller than she normally did. She felt as though everything she had even known was so very tiny, house Kesh and Sovereign and her mother and even the idea of a Princept. There were so many stars, all of them far away planets and moons. There were probably places where they had never even heard of Crysanth Kesh. Just the idea of it made her want to laugh, or look over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching them.

She could still feel the heavy weight of Thisbe’s hand on her shoulder, grounding her even as they floated through the stars. Clem took a steadying breath in, letting it out slowly as she looked around them.

“How much could we see?” asked Clem quietly. “Could we see a lot of it, if we tried?”

“I do not know,” said Thisbe. “I do not think it has ever been tried.”

“Perhaps we will be the first,” said Clem, looking out at the stars.

“We will choose one to start,” said Thisbe. “I am searching for inhabited planets close by, so that we can refuel and rest. Mow will require repairs after we retenter atmosphere.”

“I can help you,” said Clem. “I will be your assistant, remember Operant Thisbe?”

Thisbe nodded and Clem felt a rush of relief. She reached up, putting her hand over Thisbe’s. Thisbe looked down at her, her bright eyes illuminating Clem in a cold spotlight. Clem smiled, feeling as warm as if she were standing under the summer sun.

----

My name is Operant Clementine , thought Clem, repeating it to herself like a mantra as she hurried through the streets, My name is Operant Clementine, and I am Operant Thisbe’s assistant.

House Kesh had been in the news again, the raids ever closer to their current location. People were already beginning to flee, to look at one another with suspicion or despair. It was always the same in the months before one of the Stels swept through. She and Thisbe had gotten quite good at keeping ahead of it, but whenever it was House Kesh on the horizon Clem began to feel worried and watched.

She glanced at her face in the shop window as she passed by, the package of rations clutched in her arms and her basket full of wiring and spare parts held close against her side. She always tried so hard not to show any reaction when a Kesh name was mentioned, purposefully trying to forget their faces even as they appeared in newsreel footage. The further away she got from those memories, the easier it was. It felt like another person’s life, sometimes, a life she must have simply read about instead of living it.

It worked well enough unless she looked in a mirror. She still had her mother’s nose, the Kesh nose, but her hair was different enough, and she was very careful never to wear white. She’d always worn white for official portraits and events, but it wasn’t a very practical choice for a mechanic’s assistant.

The wind picked up around her feet as she dodged puddles and patches of mud. Clem shivered, pulling her coat more tightly around her - she’d been plagued with another growth spurt, all the legs of her pants suddenly an inch too short, irritating her as the weather grew colder. She’d been able to hide the gap under a large pair of boots, but they gave her blisters on her ankles after a day of trudging around town to try and scrape together supplies. Luckily most people here worked in trade, and it had been easy enough to farm or to fix people’s battered tech.

They’d been lucky to secure lodging closer to town this time around, even if it was overpriced for a falling down old farmhouse. It wasn’t as though they’d be there forever. Even without Kesh approaching, it was time to move on, see a little more of the universe.

She could hear Thisbe in the shed as she approached, the shutter open to let the weak afternoon light in. Thisbe turned, raising a hand in greeting, her approximation of a wave. Clem raised a hand in response.

“They were almost out of soldering wire, and they only had one tube of flux paste left,” said Clem by way of greeting. “Evergreen, you remember, the girl at the store, she says some of them are trying to form a defensive garrison and they came through and bought most of it.”

“One tube should be sufficient,” said Thisbe. “Mow’s repairs are at ninety-eight percent completion.”

“Oh,” said Clem. She paused, watching Thisbe’s fast hands as she screwed the plate back over one of Mow’s lower joints. “When will we leave?”

“The day after tomorrow,” said Thisbe. “We will be prepared enough to depart by midday tomorrow, but the morning is a more optimal time for launch.”

Clem nodded. She set the basket down, not sure what to do with her hands. There wasn’t much point unpacking things if they were to leave so soon. Better to put everything they weren’t using away in storage. She tried to picture the additional storage she’d added to Mow, trying to figure out if they’d be able to take anything in the house with them. Some of the blankets, maybe, and the smaller bits of sheet metal. It was good to have on hand, Mow tended to hurt something during re-entry.

“You will have time to say goodbye to Evergreen,” said Thisbe.

Clem felt a jolt go through her, looking up at Thisbe and then quickly looking away. “I don’t need to say goodbye to her. Why would I, it’s not as though we’re friends.”

“You have spent a significant amount of time with her,” said Thisbe.

“I- No I haven’t,” said Clem quickly. Her face felt hot despite the cold wind. “I’ve just been getting supplies. This place only has so many stores to get what we need.”

Thisbe looked at her, her head tilted slightly. “It was only an observation, Operant Clementine. So long as you are happy to continue to assist me, I have no claim to your other hours.”

Clem swallowed. “I know that, I just- We’re not friends. We just- I see her, sometimes.”

She and Evergreen had gone to the harvest festival together. Evergreen had helped her put together a dress, and then had showed her afterwards how to more easily take it apart again to reform into something better for everyday use. Evergreen, sometimes, would add an extra apple or a small piece of wrapped caramel to Clem’s basket with a wink. Evergreen had a bright laugh, as bright as the sky, and chapped lips. Evergreen had a red cloak that she'd shared with Clem as they'd sat by the fire, her hand warm on Clem's knee.

“I don’t have friends,” said Clem. “Except you, of course.” She paused. “And Mow is a kind of friend.”

Thisbe’s eyes pulsed. “We are your friends too. But you are allowed to have human friends. I understand that it is important.”

“Not to me,” said Clem. “I never had friends, even before I… Even before. It’s too easy to lose focus and… and…”

Clem trailed off, frowning. She couldn't remember exactly what it was Crysanth had said, now. Giving yourself away to other people split your focus from House Kesh and your own goals, and made you in some way that Clem could no longer remember the specifics of. Clearly her mind had prioritised mechanics over Crysanth’s instructions. Her stomach squirmed a little at the thought.

“I see,” said Thisbe. “Perhaps I am mistaken.”

“You must be,” said Clem. “I’m going to start packing up inside.”

Thisbe nodded, returning to her work. Clem headed inside the farmhouse. Due to the size of the rooms, Thisbe had tended to spend the majority of her time in the shed, where she could more easily stand. It was probably just as well - most of the rooms in the upper floors of the farmhouse were not exactly structurally sound. Clem had made her bedroom in the lounge, so she could hear Thisbe working and warm the room with the kitchen stove while she cooked. Clem was still not a particularly good cook, as proved by a rather disastrous evening meal at Evergreen’s apartment-

Clem shook herself, forcing herself away from that line of thought. They weren’t friends . They were just two people in the same place who happened to be the same age and who had something to talk about. Evergreen, despite being destined to work in her family’s little shop, had a keen interest in mechanics. It had been nice to have someone to talk about it with, or to show her something new. Everything Clem knew about machines she’d learnt from Thisbe, so their discussions tended to be quite short.

Still, it had been nice, for a time. You couldn’t hope for a friendly face everywhere you went, especially if you arrived from off planet in an enormous mech.

Clem sighed, beginning the process of gathering up her things. Not everything would be able to come with them. The dandelion and nettle plants had grown during their time on the planet, and they needed splitting up into a smaller, more travel-ready pot, the small domes sealing them against the harsh vacuum of space. She rolled up the spare blankets and packed away her clothes. She dug out her flight suit and the various under-layers she’d assembled to keep out the chill, checking the seal on the helmet, checking the sensor filaments in the gloves was in working order. You never knew when you might need the hand flexibility for zero-gravity repairs.

It was dark by the time she’d finished, lugging the heavy trunks into the shed by lantern light. Thisbe was in the process of packing away their tools and spare parts, sealing them away to prevent their damage during transit.

“I thought I’d sleep in here tonight,” said Clem, her voice quiet.

“Very well,” said Thisbe. “Is everything packed?”

“Yes Operant Thisbe,” said Clem. “If we do end up needing to leave early, we’ll be ready.”

They had needed to take an early exit, on occasion, from Stels or just from local townspeople who’d decided that they no longer liked having a strange robot hypha and her even stranger human assistant in town. This place probably would have been the same, eventually. Some of the other girls had already started to glare at her when she would walk somewhere with Evergreen, after Evergreen closed up the shop for the night. Something twisted in her chest.

Maybe she’d leave a note or something under Evergreen’s door, just to say goodbye. It felt like a silly thing to do, in person. Surely by the time the Stels were overhead Evergreen would have forgotten her anyway. No one else seemed to remember her. Kesh didn’t even use her absence in propaganda anymore.

The bright light of Thisbe’s eyes turned towards Clem. “Operant Clementine, are you alright?”

“Of course,” said Clem. She only hesitated for a moment before her curiosity prompted her to add, “Why do you ask?”

“You seem upset by our upcoming departure,” said Thisbe. “If you wished to remain here-”

“I don’t,” said Clem. “I don’t- She’ll forget me. We really aren’t friends, and even people who were don’t remember me.”

“I have always found you to be very memorable,” said Thisbe.

“That is because you are so much better than everyone,” said Clem. She dropped the trunk at Mow’s feet, sitting down on it. “Or you have a better memory, perhaps.”

“I am sure people remember you,” said Thisbe.

“I’m not,” said Clem. “Even Kesh doesn’t remember me, and mother always said our house had a very long memory.”

Thisbe paused, moving to crouch down next to Clem, though Clem still had to tilt her head backwards to meet Thisbe’s gaze.

“Not that it matters, of course,” said Clem. “It’s probably better that they don’t remember me. I cause you enough trouble as it is.”

“You do not cause trouble,” said Thisbe. “You are a good assistant.”

Clem swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Thank you, I- I try to be.”

“You are a good assistant,” said Thisbe again. “I will remember you.”

Clem squeezed her eyes shut and when that wasn’t enough to stop them from feeling damp she leant towards Thisbe, pressing her face against the cold metal of Thisbe’s arm.

“Sometimes I wonder if- Maybe they erased me from the records,” said Clem. “Mother said they did that sometimes, for traitors and such, they’d erase you and no one would be allowed to talk about you and then everyone forgot you. It’s not as though I saw many people, just mother, and mother’s Sovereign, and the servants. And there were never very many people of my own age at parties, and I don’t suppose-” Clem’s breath caught in her throat at the sudden rush of memory. “I don’t suppose she remembers me either. We were very young.”

“You remember her,” said Thisbe, her voice steady above Clem.

“It was more special to me, I think,” Said Clem. “She always had people around her and I was- Gucci, she always said-” Clem blushed. “Well. She would let me pick what we should do and she usually seemed to like it even if I think I must have gotten her into trouble some of the time.” Clem paused, opening her eyes to look at the darkened ground, her shadow lit by the golden glow of their lanterns and the blue-white light of Thisbe’s eyes. “I wonder what she's doing now.”

“Being a princess,” offered Thisbe.

Clem managed a smile. “I don't think so, she was from one of the lower houses, I think.” She let out a breath. “I suppose she is a princess compared to me now.”

“You could always go back,” said Thisbe. “I would not stop you.”

“Even if I could, I don’t think I’m Princept material anymore,” said Clem. “I’m much better at being your assistant than I ever was at etiquette lessons.”

“I do not doubt it,” said Thisbe. “You are a capable assistant.”

Clem smiled, looking up at Thisbe. “Thank you Operant Thisbe.”

“You are welcome, Operant Clementine,” said Thisbe.

----

They’d only been on Partizan for a few months when Crysanth arrived. Seeing her mother, even on a screen with middling reception, was so startling that Clem dropped the box she’d been holding,  screws scattering across the workshop floor. Clem jumped, muttering curses under her breath as she gathered them back up. Her mother’s voice droned in the background - well, no, it didn’t drone, Crysanth was too good of a public speaker for that. It hummed, drawing you in, forcing you to listen and absorb every word. Clem was dimly aware, as her field of vision began to narrow, that Sovereign was missing from Crysanth’s side. How strange, to think of that man after all this time. He’d be a stranger to her now, anyway, even if he was no longer part of her mother’s staff.

Clem stopped, bracing one hand against the floor. She felt as though she couldn’t breathe, or couldn’t remember how to, her mother’s voice filling up her mind until there was no space left for other thought.

“Operant Clementine?” said Thisbe. It sounded as though her voice was coming from very far away. “Are you injured?”

Clem could understand what Thisbe was saying, but she couldn’t get enough air to respond, or find the words to. She felt Thisbe’s hand on her back, easing her up, supporting her as Thisbe guided her to sit down on one of their trunks. Clem took a breath, her thoughts slowly pushing themselves from the screen to the weight of Thisbe’s hand. It was easier as Crysanth’s speech ended, the footage fading into a news report that was far easier to ignore.

“Operant Clementine?” said Thisbe again.

“Sorry,” managed Clem, waving a hand at the screen. “Just- A surprise, to see my mother. That’s all. I’m perfectly all right.”

“I do not think you are,” said Thisbe.

“I’m fine,” said Clem, “I’m better now. It’s- Really, Operant Thisbe, it’s nothing, it’s not as if she knows I’m here.” Clem paused. “I don’t think so, anyway.”

“We will be careful,” said Thisbe.

“I know we will,” said Clem.

Their new partnership with Broun made it a little difficult sometimes to be careful. Thisbe went on missions that seemed dangerous , if the damage Mow was taking was any indication. At least Thisbe had come away mostly unharmed, and if Thisbe said Broun was alright to work with then Clem was determined to think they were alright too.

Even if, most of the time, she found them very annoying.

“No I can’t just repair your mech ,” snapped Clem. “I'm not your personal mechanic.”

“Come on,” said Broun, giving her what they obviously thought was a charming smile, “you work on Thisbe’s stuff all the time, just- help me out here. It's just a couple of minor repairs.”

“I assist Operant Thisbe with her mech,” said Clem, setting down a tub of vinegar she was using to try and remove the rust build-up on some secondhand items Broun had dragged in from who knew where to try and con some woman from Horizon into buying. “I am not a mechanic . Not for you anyway.”

Broun leant against the workbench. “Then what are you?”

“Operant Clementine is a princess,” said Thisbe, not looking up from where she was repairing Mow’s ankle joints.

Broun frowned. “What?”

“It's an old joke,” said Clem, quickly. “Don't worry about it.”

Broun peered over at Thisbe. “I didn’t think you made jokes.”

“Operant Thisbe probably has a lot of skills that you don’t know about,” said Clem. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have actual work to do. I just just lean around on a workbench all day.”

“Yikes,” said Broun, not lowering their voice at all as they spoke to Thisbe. “What’s her problem?”

“Operant Clementine is free of problems,” said Thisbe.

Clem pressed her lips together to muffle a laugh. She didn’t want Broun to think her mood had shifted enough that they should try asking her again. It wasn’t that she was against helping them, she just didn’t want to, and as far as she was concerned she didn’t have to unless Thisbe asked her to do it. If Thisbe asked her, Thisbe would have a good reason, a reason other than Broun that thought they could get free mech repairs.

As for the other member of Thisbe’s squad… Clem didn’t really know what to make of Valence. Valence was polite to Thisbe, and didn’t ask Clem to do work for them for free, but they always seemed on the verge of asking her to leave the room if they were discussing anything in any detail.

“I think they think I’m a spy,” said Clem.

“I do not think that is true,” said Thisbe. “Operant Valence is just wary of the safety of our missions.”

“I guess ,” said Clem, making a face as she flopped down onto the old couch they’d dragged into the workshop. It was a little battered but she liked the red colouring of it. “You didn’t tell them I’m… you know. About where I came from, did you?”

Thisbe looked down at her, bathing her in blue-white light. “I did not. I take your trust very seriously Operant Clementine.”

Clem swallowed. “I- Well. Good.” She paused. “I take your trust very seriously too, you know. I wouldn’t ever do anything to- I want to keep it.”

“I know, Operant Clementine,” said Thisbe. “That is part of my trust.” She paused. “There is a larger mission that we will be a part of soon. You may need to accompany me if we are to remain in contact.”

“Of course,” said Clem, because she wasn’t about to let Thisbe go off with Broun and get herself into dangerous trouble alone . “I’m always happy to assist you, Operant Thisbe.”

----

“So this is the famous Apostalisian fortress,” said Clem, looking around the large mess hall of Icebreaker Prime. “It looks like the inside of a conference centre.”

Behind her, Millie snorted. Clem didn’t turn around - Millie might have been amused, but she might also have been scoffing at her. She’d done that a lot, when Clem had only been trying to be helpful in pointing out where the Stray Dog needed repairs. Some people took offence over nothing. Hopefully not all the revolutionaries would behave like that.

At least Thisbe was still sensible, setting up a workshop, sectioning off one of the loading bays for growing crops. It was good to be able to have space away from the others, to have an excuse to eat in the workshop or at odd hours when the rooms were less populated. It had been a long time since she’d been in an enclosed space with so many people, all of them busy, all of them moving and talking and looking at her like they expected her to share some knowledgeable opinion. Clem was extremely relieved when Thisbe asked for her help with the small crop in the loading bay.

It felt good to work with the earth again, something oddly nostalgic in the feeling of dirt under her nails. Less people made remarks over her work with Thisbe, too, although that was probably because most people assumed she’d been assigned to help Thisbe instead of doing it by choice. Some people even thought she’d been part of Horizon . Ridiculous. Just because she was there assisting Thisbe, that didn’t mean that she was that much of a reactionary.

“The members of Horizon are fine,” said Thisbe. “They will be returning from a mission shortly.”

“I suppose that’s your way of telling me to be nice when they bring in their junk to be repaired,” said Clem.

“Operant Valance has asked that we keep infighting to a minimum,” said Thisbe.

“Then they can do the repairs themselves,” said Clem. She looked up at Thisbe, letting out a sigh. “ Fine , I’ll be nice . But I reserve the right to complain.”

“Complain about what?” said a voice.

Clem looked up, her breath catching in her throat. It was one of the Horizon pilots, her curly hair artfully mussed from being inside her helmet, her red flight suit hugging her body, her fingerless gloves highlighting her manicured nails. Clem took a breath, trying not to think about her own hair (escaping her poor attempt at braid and streaked with grease where she’d been working on some pirate’s mech), or her own clothes (worse, her old coveralls, torn at the shoulder because she hadn’t had time to patch them again , grease and potting mix deep under her nails and staining the fabric of her clothes). The pilot smiled at Clem, easy and charming, and it took a moment for Clem to remember how to speak.

“The workload your team hands over every time they want to get a breath of fresh air,” said Clem, glad that her voice held steady even if her tone wasn’t as close as Valence might have liked it.

“I’d say we got more than fresh air ,” said the woman. “Can’t have much of a revolution without food.”

“If you say so,” said Clem.

The woman frowned. “Do I… know you?”

“Why would you?” said Clem.

“You just seem kind of familiar, that’s all,” said the woman. She looked Clem over, and Clem felt herself flush. “Did we go to school together?”

“I doubt it,” said Clem.

“So you’re not former Kesh?” said the woman, leaning one hand on the counter. “It’s alright if you are, you know, I am too.”

Clem swallowed. “I- No. I’m not.”

The woman frowned. “I’m… sorry.” She let out a breath, running her hand through her hair. “I really thought- Sorry. I know they’ve done some fucked stuff to a lot of people. It’s kind of a weird thing to say, if you’re not actually from there.”

“It was weird,” said Clem, relieved that she seemed willing to let it go, “but I don’t mind.” She cleared her throat, reaching for a businesslike tone. “What I do mind is your team just dumping their shit in here without giving any indication of who they are or where I should send things after I repair them.”

“Ah, well, I’ll talk to my team about that,” said the woman. “And I’m more than happy to give you my name if you’ll work on my mech. Only minor repairs, I swear.”

“Fine,” said Clem, reaching for her battered clipboard. “Name?”

“Gucci Garentine."

Clem dropped the clipboard, she quickly ducked behind the bench to pick it up, putting her hand against the shelf as her head began to spin.

“You alright down there?” said Gucci.

“Fine,” said Clem. “I, ah, Gucci, yes, that’s- Fine. Thank you.”

Gucci leant over the bench, looking down at her. Clem’s chest felt tight.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” managed Clem. “I just- I dropped my pen. It’s- I have to get a new one. I’ll be right back.”

She all but fled into the back of the workroom, quickly using the second door behind the shelves to exit the workroom and hurry herself down to the loading bay. Thisbe was at work, setting up a watering system for the tiny new vegetables.

“Operant Thisbe,” said Clem. “There’s, can you- I need you to talk to someone in the workshop.”

Thisbe’s head tilted slightly. “Why?”

“It’s- She’s- I know her,” said Clem. “Her name is Gucci. She used to- We used to know each other. I don't- What if she knows me?” Something squirmed in the pit of her stomach. “She probably doesn't but- I don't want to cause trouble for you here. They'd probably throw me into the ocean.”

Thisbe paused. “I do not believe they would.” She paused again. “I have completed the first three rows. Do you need me to instruct you on the installation?”

“No, I can, I’ll figure it out,” said Clem. “Thank you Operant Thisbe.”

Thisbe nodded, leaving Clem alone in the field. Clem let out a long breath, sitting down on the ground, heedless of the damp earth. Back when she had known Gucci, that would have been unimaginable. Once she’d gotten grass stains on her new shoes and she’d been reprimanded for what felt like hours. Here she was, sitting in dirt, her clothes stained and her hair a complete mess. Clem pressed her lips together. Hopefully it was enough of a change that Gucci didn’t recognise her . That would have been far worse.

She’d always wondered what had happened to Gucci. Of course she became a famous revolutionary with a gorgeous mech to match. She’d defended Clem at parties, she’d clearly defend anyone . Clem swallowed, taking another deep breath and letting it out slowly. There was work to be done for Thisbe, and she couldn’t do it if she stayed as she was. Clem pushed herself up, looking over the rows Thisbe had completed before she went to work.

She’d almost finished running the tubing when the hanger door opened again. Clem looked up, expecting Thisbe, her mind already pulling together a list of tasks she’d completed and what she had left to do.

It was, of course, Gucci.

Clem blinked at her. Gucci waved. Clem lifted a hand, wrinkling her nose at the movement. Gucci laughed. The sound was quieter than Clem remembered but it gave her the same odd feeling in her chest that she remembered from childhood.

“Hi,” said Gucci. “If I come over there, are you going to run away again?”

“I didn’t run away,” said Clem.

“Sure,” said Gucci. She paused. “I’m coming over there, okay?”

“Fine,” said Clem. 

She eyed Gucci warily as she approached. She didn’t seem like she was about to tackle Clem where she stood or pull her in front of the council to reveal her as a traitor. Gucci stopped a few paces in front of her, her eyes studying Clem’s face.

“It is you, isn’t it?” said Gucci, her voice soft. “Clementine Kesh?”

“It’s Operant Clementine,” said Clem. She swallowed. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t but- How ?” said Gucci. “You disappeared, and everyone said you were kidnapped and then they announced you died . I think I cried for days. Weeks .”

“I think I- He thought he could-” said Clem. “My mother’s Sovereign Immunity took me away in the middle of the night, I- Wait. You cried ?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” said Gucci. “I was a very sensitive young lady.”

She was smiling a little, her expression fading as she looked at Clem.

Clem hesitated. “You’ll think I’m making it up.”

“It can’t be any weirder than the official story,” said Gucci. “Tell me.”

Clem could hear the echo of a voice, Gucci’s voice, young and a million miles away. You tell me what you want to do then Clementine . The only person in her young life who had ever said anything like that. How strange to think she had forgotten.

“It’s… Kesh forces came to where I was, with Sovereign, and I- We were separated,” said Clem. “I went with Operant Thisbe. I made her take me with her.”

“And you’ve been with her ever since?” said Gucci. “Doing what ?”

Clem gestured around them. “I found something I was good at after all, I suppose, and… Well. I didn’t exactly think my mother would welcome me back, even at that age.”

“No,” said Gucci, “I don’t suppose she would have.” She paused. “I should tell you, he’s here. Your Sovereign Immunity.”

“My mother’s Sovereign Immunity,” said Clem, before Gucci’s words registered. “What, here , on Icebreaker?”

Gucci nodded. “He came with Leap’s crew. Millie vouched for him, apparently they were in prison together. He’s been helping them evade the law since they broke out.” She paused. “I could arrange a meeting, if you-”

“ No ,” said Clem.

Gucci paused again. “You know he thinks you’re dead too. That’s part of the folk tale about him, practically. The Sovereign Immunity that broke away from Kesh and got one of the royal family killed.”

“I don’t care,” said Clem. “It might as well have been true. Clementine Kesh certainly doesn’t exist anymore. Only I do.”

“I’m glad you do,” said Gucci. “I always-”

She pressed her lips together.

“What?” said Clem.

“No, it’s weird,” said Gucci. “I’ve said enough weird shit to you today already.”

“Ugh, I forgot house Kesh came with so many weird games,” said Clem. “Just tell me.”

“I…” Gucci huffed a laugh, looking for the first time as though she might be as flustered as Clem felt. “I always kind of wondered what would have happened to you if you hadn’t disappeared. You were always so fun at parties, I think I was kind of obsessed with you.”

“Oh,” said Clem, her heart beating wildly. “I was always- I mean, I didn’t think you’d remember that.”

“I didn’t untilI saw you,” said Gucci. She paused, her eyes meeting Clem’s. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“I am too,” said Clem, feeling more than a little stunned.

Gucci laughed, and Clem felt herself smile.

“You’ll have to tell me about what you’ve been doing with your life,” said Clem. “I can’t believe you’re in Horizon .”

“Your Thisbe said you liked my mech,” said Gucci, still smiling.

“She’s not my Thisbe,” said Clem. “I’m Operant Thisbe’s assistant. And I do kind of have work to do.”

“Of course,” said Gucci. She hesitated for a moment. “Can you… Will you show me what you’re doing?”

“Thinking of giving up the revolutionary glamour?” said Clem.

“I just want to see you in action,” said Gucci. “I always had a good time messing around with you in a garden after all, and this time we won't get in trouble for grass stains.”

Clem completed her work very slowly, the afternoon filled with do you remembers and what did you think whens and oh I wish you’d been theres from both of them. Clem felt as though her chest would burst from feeling as she made her way back to the workroom that night, flopping down on the couch she’d been using as a bed since their arrival. She reached out a hand, trailing her fingers over the pot of dandelions they kept next to the couch under a little grow light. In the corner of the room, Thisbe’s eyes opened.

“I hope I was correct in mentioning your name,” said Thisbe.

Clem put a hand over her mouth, smiling up at the ceiling.

“You were the most correct,” said Clem. She paused for a long moment, searching for the right words. There didn’t seem to be enough of them in any language she knew. “Thank you Operant Thisbe.”

“You are welcome, Operant Clementine,” said Thisbe. Her eyes closed again.

----

Clem braced the datapad against her side, balancing on the stepladder and she leant over to count the battery packs on the workroom shelf. She was almost done, and then she was going to escape to Gucci’s room until the afternoon - Gucci had cleared her schedule, and had apparently brought trunks of clothes with her, which Clem was very curious about for several reasons. She heard the door of the workroom open, the large shape of a man striding in. She rolled her eyes, marking down the number on the datapad.

“Five,” said Clem. “I think Gucci said Leap’s crew had procured some more recently, though it’s probably still in the hold. Annoying .”

“Operant Clementine,” said Thisbe, her head tilting slightly, indicating amusement.

Clem grinned. “What? It’s not as if-”

“Sorry, did you say Clementine ?” said a man’s voice.

Clem leant in the opposite direction, peering around the side of the shelf. It was an older man, his face vaguely familiar. Clem’s breath caught in her throat. Thisbe stood up, stepping in front of her.

“Oh,” said Clem. “It’s you.”

“I thought you died ,” said Sovereign faintly.

“No, I went with Operant Thisbe,” said Clem.

“You- Wait.” Sovereign frowned. “ You’re Thisbe’s assistant?”

“Yes,” said Clem.

Thisbe’s eyes pulsed. “Operant Clementine is a very good assistant.”

Clem smiled, holding tightly onto the compliment like a lifeline. “Thank you Operant Thisbe.”

“You’re really- This whole time?” said Sovereign. He reached behind himself blindly, pulling out one of the workroom stools to sit down on and running a hand through his short hair. “I really thought I got you killed. I’ve been- If you only knew what I’d-” He huffed a laugh. “This whole time?”

“Surprised I managed to have any life skills?” asked Clem. “Royalty aren’t known for it, I suppose.”

“I’m more surprised you’re alive to have them,” said Sovereign. He looked up at her, opening his mouth and then closing it again. “I would have tried to find you, if I’d known.”

“Oh well I’m glad you didn’t do that ,” said Clem. “You would have taken me back to my mother, and who knows what kind of a life I would have had there. Probably none at all, given the propaganda spin they were giving my kidnapping .”

Sovereign winced. “I… wouldn’t have taken you back to Crysanth.”

“No,” said Clem, “you would have just kept me as hidden away as possible until you needed the bargaining chip.”

“That’s not-”

“Don’t,” said Clem. She took a deep breath in, stepping out from behind Thisbe, one hand resting lightly against the outside of Thisbe’s leg. “I just- Why did you do it?”

Sovereign frowned again. The lines were much deeper in his face than she remembered them.

“Why did I… You have to understand, those people, they needed my help,” said Sovereign. “I couldn’t- I got to a point where I couldn’t just stand by any more, I had to act.”

“What? No, not that ,” said Clem. “I meant why did you take me ? You were going on the run, and it wasn’t as though- You certainly didn’t seem like you thought I’d be of any help .”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking,” said Sovereign. “I just- I had this whole plan, everything set and then… I suppose you don’t remember. You were at a dinner, with me. You weren’t, normally. At the time I thought she, Crysanth, I thought it was supposed to be her way of punishing me, showing me what I… I'm not so sure any more. It might have all just been a coincidence.”

Clem waited, watching his expression. She didn’t remember it, the night blurring together with the other vague memories of official dinners, nights where she had to be the most silent, the most still, too nervous to eat in case she did it wrong or made a mess. She used to get terrible headaches, when she knew one was forthcoming. It all seemed like a very long time ago, too far in the past to be real.

“I just hadn’t… I hadn’t expected to see you, and you were so…” Sovereign sighed. “You just looked so miserable , and I- I wouldn’t have felt right, leaving you behind.” He paused. “I think you're my- I mean, I'm almost sure that you-”

“You never asked ,” said Clem.

“What would you have said?” said Sovereign. “I thought you understood, after we’d been there a year, but then you… you ran off.” His frown deepened and he looked up at Thisbe. “Oh, you… you were her friend? The one she'd been speaking to back then?”

“Operant Clementine has been a good assistant and friend to me,” said Thisbe. “We have been in danger, but we have survived.”

“Yes,” said Clem, straightening her shoulders. “So you don’t- You don’t have to feel sorry for me any more, Operant Immunity. I had a nice life away from all that.”

Sovereign swallowed. “I guess you did. I’m still… I don’t know. I’m not sorry I got you out of there, but I am sorry that I… I wish I’d been there for the rest of it instead of leaving you alone.”

Clem blinked. “I wasn’t alone.” She looked up at Thisbe before she looked back at Sovereign. “I had Operant Thisbe. And Mow, I suppose. And work to do.”

Thisbe nodded. “Operant Clementine is a skilled mechanical assistant and an excellent farmer.”

Something flickered across Sovereign’s face, too fast and unfamiliar for Clem to catch. “I- I had heard that about your assistant.”

“You had?” said Clem. “From who?”

“Broun says you do great work,” said Sovereign.

“They only say that because they want me to do work for free,” said Clem, “but I’m immune to flattery.”

Thisbe’s head tilted, indicating her amusement. Clem smiled up at her.

“You’ll… Maybe you can tell me about it, sometime?” said Sovereign. “I wish- I’ve missed out on a lot of your life.”

“You would have missed it if you’d left me with Kesh, too,” said Clem.

“Sure,” said Sovereign, “but if I’d done that, there’s no way we’d be having this conversation. Who knows how you would have turned out-”

Sovereign fell silent, looking slightly embarrassed by his outburst. Clem did agree with him on that, at least. It was hard to picture her doing anything like Gucci had done if she’d remained with Crysanth. Her mother was too convincing and too determined for Clem to turn out like another other than a smaller, younger Crysanth.

“I suppose you’re right,” said Clem, slowly. “I… If you’re really interested, I suppose I’m not opposed to telling you.” She cleared her throat. “But I, ah. I have to finish this first. Work. You know.”

“I do,” said Sovereign. “I, uh. I can wait while you finish up, if you want?”

“That’s fine. It’s just an inventory check.” Clem’s expression twisted. “I know, my mother would not be proud.”

“She wouldn’t,” agreed Sovereign, “but I am.”

Clem swallowed, nodding to Thisbe as she stepped away, back behind the shelves to finish up. Thisbe nodded back.

“Let me know if you require assistance, Operant Clementine,” said Thisbe.”

“I will,” said Clem.

The bright points of Thisbe’s eye followed her through the shelf as she worked, as comforting as the stars.