Chapter Text
[ LIFE 476 ]
[ NAME: SOLANA ]
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Tangent had always hated her body. She hated her weakness, hated her flesh and bones, hated how it sagged and failed to combat sickness, hated how even her genetic mutation couldn’t keep the need to sleep at bay. She hated the body she was born in, hated the one she changed into, hated that she was human. She hated that she cared about stupid things, hated that she needed extra care and time just to feel even marginally at home in her body. She hated how hard it was to feel competent, hated that even though she was smart, much smarter than most kids around her, she was still treated like an idiot.
When she was younger, going by the wrong name and the wrong pronouns, she used to think that all her problems would be fixed the moment she and Instance managed to change her body. She used to believe that once everything was right with her, everything would be right in the world. All the time spent away in the Medbay and away from the other kids caused a halt in her social development and an interest in sciences; but of course, Instance being Instance, nurtured this growth instead of discouraging it. (“ I’m glad to see that at least some of the youth these days is interested in the right fields, ” she’d said, “ science is an important part of living, especially on unknown planets. ”) The ringing endorsement from someone as close and important as the Chief Engineer only solidified Tangent’s interest in science and overall disinterest in other people.
After the whole process had been completed, Tangent was disappointed to learn that she still hated her body. Yes, it was a lot more right , and before it had been a lot more wrong , but it still wasn’t what she wanted. It was too weak. Too human . Too susceptible to illness and exhaustion, bone-deep and terrible. Some part of her had started an interest in biology and biochemical research in order to find a way to further mutate her body; to implant so many genetic differences that she could hardly be counted as human. Part of her just wanted to be a machine; as uncomplicated as possible, unfeeling, just a perfect being capable of achieving anything and everything. All the other parts of her knew that kind of dream was impossible, but it didn’t stop her from reading all the science books available on the Stratospheric. (This new-found interest in science had also gained her a friend; the girl with the intelligence enhancement, Solana. She was often in the library reading every book she found, not just the science and math related ones.)
Solana was, for all intents and purposes, the perfect friend. There wasn’t much competition, and Tangent didn’t have anyone else to weigh her against, but she also couldn’t ask for a better one. There was something in Solana that just understood all that Tangent was. She offered mental challenges, kept her on her toes, and always made sure that Tangent was taking care of herself. Usually, Tangent saw that kind of behaviour as patronizing, but Solana’s care was much less head-first than everyone else's. Instead of forcing Tangent to sleep, or asking if she’d eaten anything, Solana would bring an extra pillow into the library as an option, or leave a snack bar here or there if Tangent ever felt hungry. It was the type of care that made Tangent feel like she had control over it, instead of being forced into it. It felt nice to be cared for in that way.
When they reached eleven, Tangent immediately started noticing the signs of discomfort on Solana’s face. The way she frowned at the other kids, mainly the girls, the way she kept staring at herself in reflective surfaces, the way her eyes were automatically drawn to passages about gender reaffirming care. She would purse her lips around her parents, as if debating telling a secret, and seemed more self-conscious and unsociable as of late. She looked exactly like Tangent, all those years ago, before she was given the body she wanted, the name she wanted, and the pronouns she wanted. I know those feelings, she thought, watching Solana from across the room, I should help. The next time she saw Solana in the library, they read in silence. Solana kept fidgeting with her sleeves, and Tangent did her best to ignore it, reading into genetic engineering and nuclear physics. She wondered if Solana had figured it out yet.
The next time Tangent saw her, she was standing outside Instance’s office, her mouth pressed into a line and her hand raised, poised to knock. Tangent stopped in the hallway, and watched her for a moment, before she continued. Her footsteps startled Solana.
“Oh, hey Tang,” she said, her voice nervous. “What’s up?” Her hand lowered from the door. Tangent gave her a little wave.
“I’m on my way to the lab,” she said, “Instance is letting me do a mini experiment about the predicted conditions of the planet we’re going to.” Solana nodded along, wringing her hands together like she wasn’t really listening.
“Sounds cool,” she said, “um, I’m just…” She trailed off as if she couldn’t think up an excuse. Tangent wasn’t the most patient person, but she scrounged up a few moments of it for her best and only friend.
“Waiting to see the chief?” She guessed. Solana chuckled.
“Uh, yeah,” she said awkwardly, “that.” There was another moment of silence before Solana breathed out a breath she must have been holding for years and years, the kind that preceded a confession, or a secret, or a promise. “Tang,” she said, “I don’t think I’m a girl.” Tangent felt a smile creep onto her face.
“Oh yeah?” She prompted, “what are you then?”
“I don’t really know,” she said, “I don’t feel like a boy either.” Tangent hummed.
“Somewhere in between?” She asked. Solana nodded.
“Something like that. Does this change anything between us?” Tangent scoffed. Part of her was glad that everybody seemed to have forgotten that she wasn’t always a girl.
“Of course not,” she said, offended. Then, “do you have a preferred name? Pronouns?” Solana perked up.
“Sol,” the name was spoken like a breath of fresh air, with the tone of relief and the satisfaction of hearing it, “and…they, I guess.” Sol straightened up.
“Well, Sol,” said Tangent, “are you here to talk to Instance about making some alterations to your physical form?” They nodded their head, looking a little relieved.
“So, it’s possible?” They asked, a grin lighting up their face.
“For all your research and aced tests, you certainly are a little stupid,” said Tangent, “of course it’s possible. Now, why don’t we knock on that door together, and get your treatment underway?” Sol nodded, and Tangent thought that they looked more like themselves than they had in all the years she’d known them.
Sol was the only person, besides Instance and Hal, that could keep up with her. They’d landed on Vertumna last year, and ever since, it felt like they were fighting to see who could discover the most in the shortest amount of time. They were pretty evenly matched; both had an insatiable thirst for knowledge and augments that helped them learn and study. The only difference was the fact that Sol’s intelligence was boosted through tampering with human genetics, and Tangent’s was natural. They attended the same amount of classes (biology, engineering, robotics, and mathematics), and they were both allowed to work in the lab alongside Instance, who had grown a fondness for both of them through their extended time spent in the Medbay in their youth. (Though, she was considerably more fond of Tangent, who had grown to somewhat fill the role of her child. Sol felt more like a niece or a nephew.)
They were, for lack of a better term, lab partners. Best friends and rivals, people who trusted each other under any circumstances, and were somehow always on each other's wavelength. They understood each other like no one else, and had many of the same behaviours; some people had even said that Sol was more like Tangent’s sibling than Dys was. (Tangent felt a little uncomfortable about that notion, but at the end of the day, accepted it. It wasn’t like she was that close with Dys anyway.)
As they grew up, they only got closer. Sometimes, it felt like Sol was the only person Tangent could trust, and the only person that would understand when Tangent broke down and talked about how much she hated her body.
“It’s not just my gender,” said Tangent, “I’m happy with that the way I am. I’m a girl, simple as that. It’s the fact that I’m human . Too human, sometimes. Sometimes, I wish I was a Hopeye, or something. Can you imagine only needing to do one thing your entire life? Being happy with that one thing?” They were on one of their walks around the colony, something they often did together to get some fresh air and bounce ideas off each other. Tangent gestured to Anemone. “At least, I want to be like the normal kids. You know? Like, they all know what they want to be. Anemone’s always been a fighter, and she’s always going to be a fighter. She’s happy with that, she wants to be that. She’s not uncomfortable in her body.” She pointed to Cal. “Cal is always going to want to work in Geoponics, he loves the feeling of dirt under his fingernails. Can you imagine being that happy over something so mundane?” Sol walked beside her, listening, but not interrupting; by now, they knew to wait until Tangent was done with her rant.
“Stars, I wish I could be someone else.” Sol tilted their head.
“You’re a scientist,” they pointed out, “you’ll always be a scientist. You love discovering things. You love experiments. You’re content with that, if not happy. What makes you different from them?” Tangent huffed a breath.
“Do I though?” She asked, “maybe it’s just the thing I’m used to. Maybe I don’t actually want to be a scientist. Maybe I’ve just been setting myself up for failure this whole time.” Sol frowned.
“Tang, if you didn’t love science, you wouldn’t be devoting your life to it.”
“What if I’m just trying to justify how I spent my childhood? You know, my interest in science only began out of self-hatred. I just wanted to know if there was a way to separate myself from this body, this… prison that I’m tethered to. It spiralled into something else, and now, sometimes it just feels like I’m stuck in place. But by now, science is all I’m good at.” Sol frowned a little harder.
“If something else was calling to you, socials, or languages, or arts, or whatever, you would have started learning it by now,” they pointed out, “you’re smart enough to know that eleven is not when you have to have everything figured out. Dad told me that, back on Earth, people would change their main course of study on average three times because they settled on something, and all those people were like. Twenty-one. You have time to find something else if you truly believe that you don’t actually enjoy science.” Tangent let that sit in the air for a moment, before she breathed out.
“You’re right,” she said, “as always.” Sol hummed, and they spent a few minutes in silence, letting that conversation settle before bringing anything else up.
“Maybe you just need a break,” they suggested, “if you take some time away from the lab, you might come back with more energy to enjoy what you’re working on again.” Tangent scoffed.
“And have you pull ahead of me? No way, Sol.” Sol chuckled.
“If it bothers you that much, I’ll take that break with you.” Tangent kicked a rock and watched as it skittered against the dirt for a few feet.
“What would we even do?” She asked. Sol shrugged.
“I don’t know,” they said, “watch some movies? Read some books? Go on more walks? Maybe we can do one of those stupid self-indulgent experiments we used to do back on the Stratospheric. Or, if you don’t want to do that, we can give all the Vertumna species we’ve found so far silly names.”
“Why would we do that?” Tangent asked, skeptical. Sol shrugged again, a little sheepishly.
“For fun?” They offered, “and it makes everything feel a little bit more like they’re ours , you know? This is our home, after all, shouldn’t it feel like it?” She weighed the options in her head, and was surprised to find that half of her really wanted to take a break. The other half of her screamed at her to get back to the lab already.
“You know what?” She said as they entered the doors to the science building, “I might just take you up on that offer. What would we name the Hopeyes?” Sol grinned at her, their smile as infectious as it always was.
“What about Eyesaurs?” They joked. Tangent snorted a laugh.
Tangent wasn’t always the best at taking care of herself. According to Marz, said rather crudely, she sucked at it. Like, majorly. Her augment allowed her to get by with only a couple hours of sleep per night, but most people around her could tell that it still took a toll on her. Her research always got sloppier towards the end of her energy reserves, and she’d get crankier and crankier as the day dragged on; something that was noticed by everyone, including the other Strato kids, and even Chief Instance. At first, Instance had just said that she needed to get used to her lowered sleep levels and better maintain a proper schedule so her body would know when to release melatonin and force her into rest. After a couple weeks of Tangent following that schedule, though things had gotten marginally better, there wasn’t that much of a noticeable difference. She was still cranky, her notes still got a little sloppy, and oftentimes towards the end of her natural cycle, she looked dead on her feet.
Sol, who had no such qualms with sleep levels and carefully crafted sleep schedules, often tried to fight Tangent on how much sleep she should actually be getting per night.
“I know that you don’t need as much as we do,” they reasoned, “but that doesn’t mean that you should stretch the limitations of your body. Scientifically, the rest of us require at least eight hours of sleep per night to maintain proper health, and we experience the repercussions of ignoring that fact after actually sleeping for less than that required amount. You’ve seen me after all nighters and consecutive days of minimal sleep, and it wasn’t pleasant for either of us. The same thing is happening to you, and you should either get your sanctioned recommended hours of sleep, or schedule regular power naps throughout your day to make up for the hours you lose.” But, like Tangent, who was stubborn and really didn’t want to be pulled away from the lab, she always argued with them no matter how tired she actually was.
“Sol,” she would say, “for the last time, I’m fine. Let me work in peace, would you?” Sol would open their mouth for another bout of rebuttals, but would ultimately fall silent under the glare of Chief Instance; who, even though she cared for Tangent, would always take the scientific and working side of the argument.
“She hasn’t shown any signs of being unable to function without the designated hours of sleep,” lectured Instance, “if she says she’s fine, then she’s fine.”
But, like Sol, they never gave up for long. It usually resulted in a series of pranks and tricks that ended up with Tangent stuck in various rooms with a pillow and a pile of blankets. Every time she ended up in one of those empty rooms, abandoned classrooms or storage closets, or even the Medbay a few times, she complained, groaned, sent Sol a lot of vaguely threatening messages via Holopalm, and then gave into rest and made up all the hours of sleep she’d missed. This kind of forced sleep was, begrudgingly, appreciated when Tangent realized how much easier it was to draw conclusions after a night of rest; and even though she spat insults at Sol’s smug face (insults she didn’t really mean), they both knew that she was grateful for the interventions.
It seemed like, sometimes, Tangent just needed someone to tell her no . She’d been stuck in a life of science, discovery, and various people telling her yes, Tangent, neglect your personal health because it doesn't seem to be causing you any harm and you’re doing very good work for the colony. She’d go along with that, mostly because science was her lifeblood, but part of her wanted someone to finally say no . And usually, the one person she could rely on for that no was Sol.
“Give me the stimulants,” demanded Tangent, her tone snippy, “I’m just getting a little drowsy but I can not stop monitoring this experiment. It cost us too many resources, and I’m not about to let all of that go to waste.” Sol continued to hide the bottle of pills behind them, shaking their head.
“No, Tangent,” they said, and those were the words they both needed to hear, “it’ll be no good if you get addicted to this stuff at this age. If you really need someone to keep an eye on it for you, you can either explain what you’re doing to me, or I can go get Instance for you.” Logically, they both knew that Instance would side with Tangent; it was a given, considering that they were both chronic workaholics who sometimes took dangerous and addictive stimulants to keep themselves crowding around their lab equipment. But Tangent was genuinely feeling drowsy, feeling as if she could fall to the ground at any moment, and instead of mentioning that Sol’s solution was very one-sided, she just grumbled and sent her notes to Sol’s Holopalm.
“You better not mess it up,” she threatened, but only half of her heart was in it. Sol hummed and led her to one of the beds in the Medbay, helping her settle in and watching as she set her alarm for half an hour.
They waited another couple of minutes until they were absolutely sure Tangent was asleep before they crept a little closer and changed the timer from half an hour to an hour and a half. Then, they crept back to the lab and started reading over her notes, praying to both the Vertumna suns that they’d understand the notes and be able to properly monitor whatever experiment Tangent was running. (Luckily, they’d grown fluent in the language of Tangent’s complex and, at times, incoherent note-taking, and managed to get a firm grasp on the experiment. When she woke up an hour and a half later, disoriented and a little agitated that it was much later than she anticipated, she was placated when she found out that Sol had concluded her experiment for her.)
“I think I want to be a doctor,” said Sol one day, their legs dangling off the roof of the science building. “I like working in the Medbay. It feels kinda like a second home, and I like helping people.” Tangent hummed, her eyes facing the sky as she took in the pink-ish sky.
“I don’t really know what I want to be,” she noted idly, “I just want to keep experimenting and discovering things about this planet. I think that’s a profession in itself, right?” Sol nodded, offering her a small smile.
“Yeah,” they agreed, “but is that a researcher or a scientist? Maybe you do, like, everything under the science umbrella.” Tangent scoffed.
“I doubt it,” she said, “there’s a lot of things to do with science. And I am not a doctor, for one. That’s more in your job description.” Sol laughed a little.
“You sound like Instance,” they noted, “all defensive about healthcare not being your job.” Tangent rolled her eyes, but she was smiling too.
“We can pitch in when we need to,” she said, “but it’s not something we want to be doing. Most of the injuries people are getting recently are just from plain old stupidity.”
“You can say that again,” huffed Sol, “the other day Tammy came in for a papercut she got while folding origami swans for the kids in the creche.”
“She couldn’t have just put a bandaid on it?” Asked Tangent incredulously.
“I guess not,” answered Sol, “it was bleeding a lot though, so it really freaked her out.”
“You could have just turned her away,” she pointed out, despite knowing that Sol would never turn away someone in pain.
“I like how you think I’m capable of turning anyone away,” Sol said, “least of all Tammy. There’s just something about the way she looks when she’s distressed that makes me want to wrap her in bubble wrap and keep her in the creche where it’s safe.” Tangent laughed again, a little louder.
“Only Tammy,” she said, “she has that effect on everyone, I think. Well, everyone except Marz. If you want to be a doctor, you’ll probably be dealing with Tammy’s papercuts for years.”
“Ah, yes,” commented Sol sarcastically, “exactly what I envisioned when I went through the week of certification training.”
They spent a couple of minutes in silence, just enjoying the light breeze and the twin sunsets, before Tangent eventually broke it.
“Lum’s got me working on something big,” she said quietly, “and it’s kind of making me wish I wasn’t me.” Sol tilted their head, turning to glance at her. Her eyes were fixed on the sky, not even glancing towards them.
“What do you mean?” They asked, curious. Tangent sighed.
“It’s a…tall order. I don’t know how I feel about it, but sometimes, whenever I’m working on it, I wish I was someone else. Someone who wasn’t smart enough to make something like that, someone who didn’t have the skills he was looking for. I just want it all to stop. I mean, I have a mother who killed herself and an overly sensitive brother who’s more interested in whatever’s outside the walls than his own family. I guess what I’m getting at it…Sometimes, I just wish I wasn’t human.” Sol shifted, drawing their legs back up the side of the building, and leaned back until they were facing the sky with Tangent.
“I get it,” they said after a couple seconds. They didn’t say anything else for a moment. Then, “Lum can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to. I know that sometimes it feels like he can do anything he wants, but you have people in your corner. And if he’s threatening you, or something, you can always blackmail him with whatever it is he’s forcing you to do, right? So, it’s not the end of the world.” Tangent opened her mouth to respond, but Sol beat her to it. “And you don’t have to tell me what it is that’s got you so worked up,” they said, “some things are for you to know and me to wonder about.”
Tangent had never had an equation she couldn’t solve. She’d always been able to do the math, the science, whatever was required, to accurately predict the outcome of any scenario. She was smart, she was competent, and she knew how to get things done. She knew what was necessary, and she knew that some things were completely out of her control. She knew that she had to work on this virus, this genocide, in order to protect Instance from Lum. To protect herself from Lum, and by extension, to protect Sol. She’d never seen an equation she couldn’t solve. Sol won’t let me kill them, she thought, Sol will have a solution. Sol can convince me otherwise. And so she told Sol, she told them about the threat on Instance’s life, the threat on her own life, and the virus primed to wipe out all life on Vertumna from the tiny and harmless Hopeye to the biggest and ugliest Faceless. Tell me no, she begged, please tell me no. For all the years she’d known Sol, all the years they’d bonded, all the years they’d spent in the lab together, Tangent calculated the outcome of this conversation and came to the conclusion that Sol would put an end to the would-be genocide. For the first time in her life, she miscalculated.
“You’re doing the right thing,” said Sol, instead of the denial Tangent desperately wanted, “think about how many lives it’ll save.” Their eyes were crazed. She’d long since learned how to read Sol’s eyes, their expressions, every stress line and crinkle. Tang, their eyes were saying, I can’t lose another person. Tangent’s stomach dropped to her feet. Guilt settled deep in her soul, weighing on her shoulders, and she pursed her lips. Oh, stars, she thought, it really must be the right thing then. Sol wouldn’t lie to her. Sol knew better than that. Sol was a doctor, Sol was a researcher, Sol was a saviour, Sol knew what was best for the colony and the people within it. If Sol said it was okay, that it was for the better, than it probably was. And so Tangent did what Tangent did best; pushed away her own feelings, compartmentalized everything until they fit into tiny little boxes, and threw herself back into her work. She ignored how she soul ached, shoved the agony aside, and ignored how she could feel the sins of the impending genocide weighing her down. She ignored how her hands shook, stayed up later and later, and tried not to feel anything as the virus was completed. She gave Sol one last glance before she presented it to Lum, one last chance to fix everything. Sol’s face was grim, their expression set, conviction and determination and a hint of mania.
Not everybody could afford to be objective. The human heart holds sympathy for that which it shouldn’t, Tangent thought, trying to be rid of her sorrow, and I am just another victim of it . Part of her wished she could be as uncaring as Sol. Another part of her fought to protect the humanity it took to feel sympathy for these animals, and as the plague she’d created spread all across the planet, she finally let herself feel .
The planet she had grown to love, no matter how dangerous and unknown, crumbled to dust beneath her hands. Oh stars, she wept, I’m sorry.
[ END OF MEMORY ]
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