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Autumn 59
M -
I’m not quite sure if you’ll receive this, but if you do, you should hear this from me before you turn on the news. Kali died this morning, as of writing—solar tower explosion. Some poor maintenance slipped under the radar. Nobody's fault, couldn’t be prevented; everyone else is okay, unharmed or will recover quickly. Aubrey’s investiture is next week, and the funeral’s tomorrow. I’m told Niko will represent House Liu at both, so there’s no need to worry.
- R
Winter 10
M -
I came back for everything a few weeks ago; naturally, I’ve been flattened by the altitude. Someday I’ll manage to conquer the change by sheer force of will, but today is apparently not that day! Songshu feels quieter without you here, now.
The investiture went well, and the funeral was as smooth as could be expected; almost the entire Senate turned up. Aubrey’s shaken, but so are we all; they’ll get their footing soon enough. (On an entirely different note, you should remind me to tell you about the stupid family feud Kali’s managed to get us into once you’re Marsside; there’s updates.)
I’m going back to the university tomorrow—that new Mammoth Semantics course, among others. Thank you for letting me test-drive that lecture on you, you were an excellent student!!
There’s no use dancing around it; Kali’s will was read out yesterday. I know it’s a bit late, but you know how these things go. There’s some things you should know—but I’ll let you finish out the deployment first. No use worrying when you’re so far away.
Niko sends their love and best wishes. As does Aubrey; at the very least, I think so. You know how they can be. Stay safe.
- R
Winter 24
M -
Aubrey seems like they’re doing better! They were a little bit overwhelmed before, but they’re settling in, and even found an issue to take up! Prisoner’s rights, on the hulks orbiting Jupiter. The conditions there are positively awful; I’m glad they’re doing something about it.
I didn’t end up going back. House Gale needs me—it’s part of my duty as Artemis. My classes are online now, but that’s not the worst thing in the world; it gives me the opportunity to talk to the mammoths more, at least! Can’t pass up the opportunity to relay new discoveries to my students as I make them.
Do you remember the day we first met? The only reason I’m thinking of it is because I’m sitting under the tree where you carved that polar bear, but still. I just can’t seem to get it out of my head.
We couldn’t have been more than eleven. You, in your cadet’s uniform with your pocketknife open; me, sneaking up on you, like I was actually capable of getting the drop on you. We were out there talking for so long—Aubrey had to come and find me so I wouldn’t miss dinner. Kali was upset with me for weeks afterward, but I don’t remember caring much.
I don’t know if you’re even getting these. I know why you’re not responding, if you’re seeing these at all, but I so badly wish I could do more than trust in the postal system and hope.
I miss you, you know. Everyone does. Come home—under your own power, preferably. I’ll be waiting.
- R
Max folded the letter shut and slipped it into the top drawer of their desk. It seemed too intimate to let anyone else see; not just the words inside, but River’s neat characters as well. Out here, on Titan, it was the only thing that could be Max’s and Max’s alone.
Though it was rather ridiculous, Max thought it was a little odd to see River’s handwriting on something so inconsequential. They only wrote the important things by hand, like most people on Tharsis—notes to self, Mammoth transcriptions, edits to their thesis. That they had been forced to go through all that trouble for Max—that they were even willing to—was startling. Even their vocabulary was different; closer to the truth, to the way they spoke rather than the rigid formality of inter-House communication.
But then again, that was an established linguistic phenomenon. “It’s called a familect,” River had said one day. The pair of them had been walking to the train station, River coming back from the university and Max coming back from the Defence Department. It was early in the academic year, the days just starting to get shorter and the dandelions shedding their seeds in droves.
“Or a marriage language. People are more comfortable around their family, adapt slips of the tongue and inside jokes into a sort of shared dialect. Come here,” River murmured, tugging Max closer by the lapels of their overcoat. If it was anyone else, Max would have flinched; it was River, though. River would never have hurt them.
Almost casually, River stood on tiptoe to brush a bit of dandelion fluff from Max’s hair. Their hand lingered, just next to Max’s face; Max could almost feel the heat through River’s glove. But of course, that had been nothing. Hardly worth dwelling on months later.
Max supposed it was an act of grace that the letters kept coming. The sheer scale of it hurt their head—from River’s hands to Max’s, through a long chain of civilian postal workers. One long, human line, from Tharsis to Titan. All of them knew that the Jiangxi station wasn’t meant to receive unapproved civilian mail; all of them passed the missives along anyway. Occasionally with a note stuck to them along the lines of tell them to stop doing this, for fuck’s sake, but still. The greatest—likely only—act of grace that Max had ever or would ever receive.
And yet, late at night and only to themself, Max could admit that it sometimes didn’t feel like enough. They wanted River; here, now, laughing at Max’s awful jokes, always ready with a fact about language or a story about the mammoths. They weren’t even sure that the letters helped; sometimes, they just made Max feel even more aware of everything they were missing out on, the uphill battle it would be to catch up with everyone else.
All the same, they felt like little pieces of River, seen in a reflection or through a veil. Not everything carried over, but some of the things that Max loved were there; the ever-present care, the easy understanding, the acceptance of Max’s limitations as someone perpetually on clandestine missions. They hadn’t asked for a reply, under the full knowledge that Max wouldn’t have been able to tell them anything. The kindness made Max’s heart hurt—all the same, it wasn’t enough.
Max sighed, leaning back in their chair to rest their head against the chipboard wall of their office. Something was wrong, they knew it. Just then, the campaign that had been Max’s world for the last six months seemed ridiculous. Forget asteroid mining rights, forget the suspected Saudi expansion into Chinese territory, forget the war Max could still hear raging just beyond the walls of their office. House Gale needed Max right now, and they ought to have been on Tharsis assisting River with whatever irregularities there were in Kali’s will.
Max and River had been friends for three decades, only six months shorter than Max had been in the military. River had been their first friend, their first dance partner, one of the few people who looked at Max and saw a person underneath the uniform. That kind of loyalty deserved repayment.
Underneath it all, Max knew that was the other reason they wanted to be home. Though it pained them to admit it, Max would have done anything to see River again. Anything.