Chapter Text
Uncle Koana’s fuzzy teal tail swished behind his chair in the way that Miqo’te tails often did. Like always, Gulool Ja could not help but stare at it. I wonder how they move their tails around so much, he thought. Gulool Ja’s own tail poked out from below the lower back rail of his chair, and it was as rigid as the furniture.
It’s probably rude to stare. Gulool Ja shifted his focus from his uncle, who was busy checking some documents, towards Auntie Wuk Lamat. From her chair next to Koana, she could scan the same documents as him, but she looked the way Gulool Ja felt when the Alexandrians talked about regulators: absolutely uninterested.
The palace itself had already become familiar to Gulool Ja. Most rooms smelled the same, a fresh, slightly herbal scent that did not resemble anything in Old Alexandria. It’s Papa’s — I mean, your grandfather’s favourite incense, Auntie had told him. The shadows flickered in predictable ways under the flames lit in the sconces throughout the walls.
Fortunately, outside the dome, the sky was always changing, which made it fun to study. That afternoon, it was like a painting outside the window of the palace, one that had three large stripes: light blue, fading yellow and hot orange. While it had been a few weeks since the events in the Unlost World, as Auntie had called it, it was not nearly enough time for him to tire of the sight.
The wooden chair creaked as he adjusted his posture to catch more of the setting sun.
‘Pretty, isn’t it?’ Wuk Lamat’s beaming face was contagious and as bright as dawn.
He smiled back. ‘Lamaty'i, how many kinds of skies are there?’
‘Too many to count!’
The excitement made it hard for Gulool Ja to not wave his arms or bob his head, but he did his best to act serious.
‘Or just one, depending on who you ask,’ Koana added. ‘Regardless, all of them have a beauty of their own.’
After clearing his throat, Koana moved a sheet of paper across the table and towards Gulool Ja. ‘Here, this one’s for you.’ He also sent a small cylinder rolling into Gulool Ja’s waiting hands.
The sheet of paper had a lot of big words that were readable but hard to understand. I have to try. I’m going to be King one day. As Gulool Ja leaned over the document, he held the cylinder carefully.
Oh… I guess this just means I’m part of Tuliyollal too, now, he understood after two more read-throughs. And that I let them take my…”data”?
Koana was very good at staring contests, so his eyes were fixed on Gulool Ja, but Wuk Lamat was more like the people of Oblivion or the Scions — she knew when to look away to make others more comfortable.
His uncle and auntie were waiting patiently for something from him, but he was not sure what it was. Do I use this… thing? He turned the cylinder, which was long and black, over in his hands like it was a puzzle.
‘My apologies, Gulool Ja,’ Koana said with a half-smile after a while. ‘I know it’s likely to be a boring thing, and primitive, even — nothing like the systems of Solution Nine, from what I’ve gathered. While Tuliyollal still maintains paper records, we’re attempting to modernise our practices.’
Gulool Ja nodded, confused. ‘Right…’
The half-smile on Koana’s face grew into a full one. ‘However, you should know that mechanisms like those of Solution Nine aren’t so rare a sight across the realm.’ He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. ‘In Sharlayan, for example, they utilise a system of aetherically linked registries, all of them synchronised automatically, so that any updates travel to the source, which is kept—’
Wuk Lamat slapped her brother’s back, nearly pushing him out of the chair. ‘There you go again, gushing about Sharlayan! I’ll have you know, it wasn’t anything sooo special when I was there!’
They’re getting distracted again… Is this what having parents is like?
Koana sighed. ‘Right. You were likely too busy hunting the local wildlife, I’m told, to fully take in the splendour of Sharlayan’s society.’
‘And eating,’ Wuk Lamat replied with a vigorous nod. ‘I had the spiciest — Wait!’ Her eyes suddenly narrowed and her brow furrowed. ‘Koana… Did you ever eat at The Last Stand?’
Gulool Ja tried to clear his throat like his Uncle often did, but it did not sound as loud coming from his small, Mamool Ja body. The sound went unnoticed.
Koana steepled his hands and avoided his sister’s gaze. ‘I may have, at some point. The memory escapes me. Archon bread was usually more than sufficient for my needs. Why do you ask?’
‘Did you ever try the spicy sauce? It’s, er… It’s really good!’ Wuk Lamat grinned. ‘You should try it when you next go there!’
Koana raised an eyebrow. ‘And when would that be? I’m the Vow of Reason now, it’s not so simple to travel abroad to satisfy your curiosity.’
‘How about next year’s Hatching-tide?’
Gulool Ja coughed. ‘Uhm…’
The two Vows turned their heads to their nephew across the table, who swallowed before continuing: ‘I’m sorry, but… I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now.’
The document remained in front of Gulool Ja as before, and the cylinder had not told him its secrets. Koana tilted his head, but Wuk Lamat took no time at all to understand.
‘Oh, right! You’ve never used a pen, have you?’ She turned to Koana. ‘It’s all done with electrope in Solution Nine, so Gulool Ja has never signed a paper before.’
‘I know,’ Koana whispered, his face flushed. ‘I simply forgot.’ He extended an arm towards Gulool Ja. ‘Here, I’ll show you how.’
With the help of his uncle and auntie, Gulool Ja was introduced to the manually intensive process of signing a paper document. You can’t erase it like in Solution Nine… Following their instructions, he signed the paper sheet in two different places, using a simple signature he was secretly very proud of.
The last two steps were to press his left thumb against the paper after wetting it with ink and channelling his aether into a special mark on the sheet.
‘There!’ Auntie clapped her hands. ‘You’re now a citizen of Tural, as well as of Alexandria! You have dual citizenship.’
‘What happens if the paper is destroyed?’
‘We keep several copies in reserve,’ Koana answered. His left ear twitched above his head, fluffy and tall. ‘There is nothing to fear.’
‘And what if all of those copies are destroyed too?’ There’s nothing stored in the cloud…
Wuk Lamat shrugged. ‘Then we’ll just make a new one!’
Gulool Ja leaned backwards into the chair, drawing another creak from it. He tried to take it all in, noticing that the sun had crept past the horizon as he did.
Everything’s so fragile here. Papers, chairs, food… He glanced at Wuk Lamat’s wild, pumpkin-orange mane of hair, where a regulator could have been clipped. Souls and lives too.
It’s like when I used to live in Old Alexandria with Otis. The thought was surprisingly comforting.
Koana had taken back the paper sheet and seemed about ready to stand up, so Gulool Ja raised a hand.
‘Is there anything else I can sign?’
‘No, not really…’ Koana scratched his neck absent-mindedly. ‘I assure you, your rights are guaranteed with this document alone.’
‘I know. I’m not scared.’
‘Oh, I bet it’s actually fun for you, huh, Gulool Ja?’ Wuk Lamat asked, beaming once more. ‘It’s like playing! Well, I’m sure Uncle Koana can find you some more papers to sign,’ she said while elbowing her brother in the back repeatedly.
‘It’s not,’ Gulool Ja replied, but there was no escaping the infectious, big-toothed joy of his Auntie. His own smile resurfaced. ‘I just…’
The explanation was hard to put together, but both Koana and Wuk Lamat waited for him with kind smiles and tails slowly waving.
‘For many years, I wasn’t sure if anyone knew me inside the dome. Anyone besides Otis. Most of the machines ignored me, so I thought I wasn’t registered. Other times, they seemed to open the way for me, but they didn’t say why. Now I have the King’s authority, so I know I’m in the system, but…’
I’m a King now, whatever that means. The notice had little impact on him. The information was eternal and shapeless, living inside someplace in the cloud.
‘Outside the dome,’ Gulool Ja resumed, ‘things are slow. They have weight. They have feelings.’
He searched for fancier words, rubbing the dry ink left on his thumb. ‘They’re “deliberate”. They’re “grounded”. And… I like that.’
The document declared to the world that Gulool Ja was here to stay. He was not an unwanted child abandoned to die. These things prove that I’m alive. That I deserve to be here. That…
‘I’m the same as everyone else.’
The warmth he felt in his chest was reflected in his auntie’s glowing grin and his uncle’s grape-coloured eyes.
‘Well,’ Koana said after adjusting his glasses again, ‘you’re not exactly the same as every—’
‘Yes, you are,’ Wuk Lamat shouted, covering her brother’s mouth. ‘And I know just the way to celebrate it! Gulool Ja, how about we head down to the beach and grab some tacos for dinner?’
‘Yes!’ Gulool Ja threw his arms up in celebration. I wish we had tacos in Solution Nine!
Koana turned to Wuk Lamat. ‘And the papers he wanted to sign…?’
‘I know just the thing!’ The Vow of Resolve chuckled confidently. ‘The frequent customer registration at Xbalyav Ty’e!’