Disconnected

"Sure, but they clearly don't fill her 'daddy urges'!" Peals of giggling followed that suggestive remark, and Seth couldn't take any more. He almost ran, but not before he caught the last shriek, "Spank me, Daddy!" and the laughter seemed to chase him down the hall.

***

Cassie had ventured out as early as possible, hoping that most people would be sleeping off the late night and she could avoid any embarrassing chitchat about her intemperance the previous evening. She'd finished up her work within a few hours, and was relieved to be able to return to the house for a lunch break without encountering any untoward commentary.

She thought her misbehavior might be a topic of gossip for a day or two amongst certain social circles, but was hoping that it might have flown under the radar of most people's notice. Surely there had been many other couples foraging in the dark together last night, and undoubtedly there had been other drunken misdeeds. Maybe if she stayed out of sight for a bit, and then acted as normal, hers would be forgotten quickly. She told herself it probably hadn't even been noticed by most people; she felt terribly self-conscious about it simply because it was so out of the ordinary for her. But she didn't pay attention to other people's dramas, and events like this were surely negligible in other people's views too.

Seth knocked on her door as she was prepping a quick meal on her own. Cassie felt embarrassed but cautiously happy to see him; but she was no stranger to reading his facial expressions, and she could tell he was a simmering pot. Usually he was charismatic and expressive, but when something was really bothering him he didn't sulk, he stewed. She welcomed him in and returned to the kitchen. "You hungry? I'll share."

"No." His curt tone made his feelings clear. She had hoped they'd be able to relax and talk, but that didn't sound likely right now. She poured them both large cups of water and downed hers while she waited for him to start. "Now that you're sober, wanna tell me what that was about last night?"

She gave him a sidelong look, but his face was a cold mask. She knew what he was asking about, anyway; it was no use pretending otherwise or trying to evade it. "The party was fun, but I needed a break. I don't spend much time in crowds anymore, besides with children. So I went outside for a breather, where I met, the guy." Her stammer was almost smooth, but not smooth enough to go unnoticed. "We started talking, both enjoying the quiet night. I thought he seemed nice and worth getting closer to."

"A whole lot closer than anyone expected!"

Affronted, she grumbled, "It was just kissing. And honestly, I don't see how it's any of your business what I do—"

"You keep saying that," Seth interrupted, mocking her, "'Just kissing!' Your wrist is strained because it was down his pants. You were halfnaked, Cassie. You know how I know that? BecauseI'm the one who pulled your clothesback onto your body!"

"Oh, don't remind me." She groaned in embarrassment, covering her eyes. "I'm sorry. Could it have beenanyone but you?"

"You were found en flagrante, outside, in the middle of the base. You wish it wasn't me? Tell me, who would you have preferred? It's fortunate you weren't found by one of yourstudents."

She hissed in a long deep breath and held it for a moment, composing herself. "Look, I know—you're right—it was very irresponsible of me to behave that way in a potentially public place. It was incredibly awkward and embarrassing to be found like that—although it wasn't like we were having all-out sex. It was frustrating to find myself physically trapped when I was trying to... I don't know. I've had a lot in my head lately, and... I know I'm fortunate that there were no lasting effects, for either party. It's a lesson well learned, believe me."

Her reasonable apology didn't pacify him. He seemed to be looking for a fight. "'Lasting effects'?" he repeated her words. "How often does this happen?"

"What?" She slid her eyes to him in wary confusion.

"How often do you meet up with unknown individuals in back alleys?" he clarified nastily. "Or is it usually aless public place than on top of a crate behind a festival?"

She flushed in smothered shame and anger. "Oh come on, Seth. Lay off."

"You don't even know his name!"

Finally triggered to a rise, she bit back, "That's rich, coming from the guy who kisses women for nothing more than a dare! You should definitely understand the idea of a non-committal make-out session with'unknown individuals'."

He reached out and grasped her upper arm, yanking her closer to him. "That was different and you know it."

Cassie stared up at him. "Was it different, Seth?" She wasn't even sure what it would mean if he said 'Yes'... or 'No', for that matter. He worked his jaw without responding, glaring deep into her eyes. "Can you explain it to me? Because I don't see how." After a potent moment of his continued silence, she was prompted to abandon that question and instead quietly point out, "You're hurting me." He released his crushing grip around her arm with a little jerk, and whirled away, so she continued as evenly as she could manage, "What exactly is the problem here?"

Seth started to pace the room, finally letting the torrent of heated words spill out. "You always lectured me about Loyalty—to the community, to the team, to the leader. Now you're all over the place. You're making your own rules. That's a great example to the kids you're supposed to Mentor.

"What are you even doing in Maltic colony, still? You gonna follow this guy to Samic colony, like a bitch in heat? Or is he just another stop on your way to greatness?"

She stood frozen, appalled by his disconnected temper and trying to follow the train of thought he sent resonating through the kitchen in a sing-song growl.

Seth gestured harshly as he paced. Her sliced silence paved the way for his continued outburst, tone and volume rising unsteadily. "The guys are getting an earful of howhot and eager you were with a perfect stranger, and they're wondering what signals they've been missing to get in on the action; you've acted like such a prude this whole time at home. And the girls are all chittering about your preference to get busy in the dark, that perhaps you have adirty little kink hidden away under all that innocence; maybe you like it rough and ready." He reached a blind peak in his vicious rant. "I thought I'd come check if you're just being a tease, or if you're atotal whore and we've just never noticed."

Cassie flinched when he swatted his water cup off the counter with an open palm, to send it splattering across the room. "I won't have it. You've now created a reputation for yourself, Cass. I don't want to come back from missions and catch tales about the next conquest. Or for that matter, am I going to be hearing stories about you while I'm out there, from other communities? Missioners who think you're my big sister, warning me about your behavior? Or, worse, telling me how good of a lay you are. I will not take flack for your reputation! I work hard out there for the rest of you to just fuck your time away!"

She recoiled as much from his rabid glare as from his acidic words, both their faces discolored with emotion.

This tirade was triggering a flashback in Cassie's mind. She remembered him as a young boy/man, maybe thirteen years old. They'd been working together on some frustrating project, struggling to build or fix something—important at the time, but forgotten now.

She had been lecturing him about how to do it right, about taking responsibility and paying attention to details. He'd been resentful and sassy as they tiredly hacked at the problem, and she'd said something flippant about her rights to lecture him about this because she was basically his mother. She had been utterly surprised by his sudden outburst. In a fury, he had shouted at her that she could not simultaneously be his mother telling him what to do, and trying to keep him safe, and teaching him how to be a good citizen; while at the same time being the teacher in charge of training him how to be a good soldier, preparing him to be excised from the community, and possibly sending him to be the hero and to his death. He had raged, "That's bullshit! You can't do both; you can't be both at the same time. You choose one or the other!"

She could vividly recall how abruptly his hormonal temper had turned to sobs and pleading, his reddened, snarling face suddenly twisting in desperation and streaking with tears. "You can't be both, don't you see? Don't you see? It's bullshit!"

She'd stood shocked and speechless, listening and wondering how in the world she was supposed to best respond. Eventually she'd nodded before looking—but not turning—away, and saying simply, "You might be right." She'd seen the young man that was trying to grow from this young boy. Aware that if he were actually her son he would begin to break away at that age to stretch his independence anyway, she'd concluded that really—though she was his guardian—it was time to evolve.

Now, looking at the 22-year-old in front of her, she could still see the young teenager inside him panicking. She knew the fringe of the tirade was nonsense, but at the core he was trying to express something important to him. She wasn't about to apologise for having a private life; but, despite feeling aggravated, she had to salvage this, to find what was at the heart of his pain now.

She couldn't quite keep the snide tone from her voice, but she tried to reach out genuinely. "Poor Seth, being related to me has always been a trial for you—"

The attempt was thrown back in her face. "We are not related! You're not my mother, You. Are. Not. My. Sister. You and I are not connected as family!" His hands sliced through the air as if they were swords cutting through rope.

"...And you have legal guardianship for yourself now." She tried to think of a single piece of the tirade to acknowledge and focus on, to calm both of them. "I'm sure it would be awkward to see into the personal life of a teacher—"

"You are no longer a teacher of mine," he snapped out like a whip, sharp words to wrap around her and bite deep. "I have nothing to learn from you now!"

'Deep breath'. "Right—" she said quaveringly, "We are not family, I am not your guardian, and I am not your teacher—So what connection can we now have, Seth, that you are so worried about what I do reflecting on you?" He was silent, staring at her with burning eyes. She'd finally halted his tirade, so she ventured into the chasm with a guess. "Are you embarrassed by your friends? ...Are we... friends?" His head twitched back and she caught her breath, feeling like he'd slammed his fist into her belly.

She thought to herself, 'Not even friends. One last tie he has to break.

'Well fine! I wouldn't want to be connected with this crazy man anyway.

'But he's clearly just blowing off steam.

'No, he's setting boundaries. That's his right, if he really feels that way. But now there is nothing left. There are no other boundaries to set.

'He has no place in himself for me; why do I keep latching back on to him? It's pathetic, contemptible; no wonder he abhors it. He's been trying to gently set himself apart for forever, and now he finds me, still here, flailing back to him.

'Cut the ties, Cassie. Get a clue, for once. Give him what he needs, and be done with it.'

Her heart physically ached in her chest, her thoughts tasted bitter in her throat, but she forced herself to respond to him the way he needed—at least, as well as she possibly could. Without looking at him, she stated in a strained monotone, "Your message is delivered, Missioner."

Motionless, he growled a protest, "You're not getting it—"

She jerked her gaze out from a miserable middle distance to meet his glare, flares of flat cold fire in her eyes, and interrupted him, speaking slowly and clearly. "I understand why you came here today. When we have no connection between us, then there is no reason for either of us to reflect on each other. You can explain that to whomever you wish, Seth Masters, and I will do my best to make sure other people understand this as well. Your Task has been a success. It is time for you to leave."

Seth grimaced and stiffly strode towards the door. As he opened it, though, he slowed and turned back to her, his mouth opening. Cassie cut him off, barking, "Get. Out. Of my house, Missioner." He bit back whatever he was going to say, and exited, pulling the door shut with a bang.

She followed to lock the door and went back to what she was doing in the kitchen, only to crouch down a moment later to wrap her arms around her belly and wonder why she couldn't breathe. It felt like she still had that man collapsed on top of her.

***

Seth slammed his fist into a tree as he stormed down the path away from Cassie's place. He didn't know what he had been wanting, but that certainly wasnot it.

As he paced wildly around the outskirts of the colony over the course of the day, he worked to calm himself and think it over.'What was she supposed to say?' he tried to question himself reasonably.'I don't know; that it's all lies. She was supposed to hit me and say that of course she's not like that.' Even in his head, it started to sound ludicrous.

Seth gradually began to feel ashamed of his outburst, but couldn't get up the courage to approach her again. Hopefully she'd forgive him quickly and let it go; she was good at seeing people's best intentions, and avoiding drama. Maybe they could have dinner together again soon and reset the dialogue.

***

Becks came home in the late afternoon and was surprised to find Cassie home before her. It wasn't in her nature to rib Cassie about the funny story she'd heard during work, but it didn't take her long to realize Cassie was bothered by more than simple self-consciousness. Soon enough, Becks pulled her away from the manic—yet unproductive—cleaning she'd obviously been keeping busy with for hours, and, sitting together on the couch, she lured out the story bit by bit. Cassie was reluctant to share her disturbance, not wanting to exacerbate the problem; but Seth's words were gnawing at her, so—at the risk of spreading negativity about a man she loved enough to release—she spilled them out to her roommate in hopes of reducing their venom.

"...For so many years, but now, apparently I've created a reputation for myself in one night... He wants no ties at all between us anymore. He doesn't even want to think of me as a friend," Cassie concluded bitterly.

"He said that?!"

Cassie shrugged miserably, hugging her knees. "Yeah? Not in so many words, I guess, but the look on his face..." She remembered the shift in his eyes, the jerk of his chin. "You could just tell. I can be a pretty slow learner, but I finally got what he was trying to say." As Cassie laid her cheek on her knee, wretchedly unhappy, Becks stroked her shoulder in sympathy. "He was so furious. He must have really gotten an earful from people around him."

Becks tried to reassure her, "Hun, it isn't even that big of a deal, at least if the story I heard is accurate. There were five other little dramas going on last night, equally embarrassing, and twenty more will happen before the week is up. Honestly, if he acts likethis when his friends make him feel uncomfortable, I can't imagine him keeping friends that long. Why wouldyou want to deal with that?"

"Becks, we're— wewere family," Cassie corrected herself strictly. "And really, he's usually sweet, charismatic—I mean, you talked with him at dinner the other night. He's generally thoughtful and rational, and even when he thinks differently than you, he'll listen." Becks' eyebrows raised in a dubious question, so Cassie attempted to explain, "But occasionally something gets buried deep in his heart, and seems to"—she fumbled her hands in the air in front of her chest, trying to put words to this idea—"fester until it has to burst out and expel itself. I mean, not violently! He's never been physical..."

Her mind skipped rebelliously to the other type of physicality besides violence, which Seth had, actually, been demonstrating more hints of during this visit than she'd noticed before; but her body's responses to his probably-innocent behavior did not add anything helpful to this conversation, nor to the larger issue, so she left it out. "Apparently, what has been festering for a while is—me: being connected to me; having my shadow always following after him, when he needs to be his own man. I had justassumed for the both of us that we were family... He came to Maltic colony alone, and I guess he wants to leave alone as well... on his ownwith his brotherhood, anyway."

As Cassie had started trailing into her spiral of thoughts, Becks had been thinking back to something shared towards the beginning of the tale, and her brow was now furrowed in concern as she brought the conversation back around. "Wait a minute; what Seth said about what he overheard today: he said the guys are talking about your 'eagerness' and signals you may or may not be sending out? That's disgusting." At Cassie's head-tilt of agreement, Becks abruptly rose and disappeared into her room. After a minute, she reappeared and extended a compact shock stick to Cassie, hilt first. "Just in case one of them is too thick to see reality and wants to try shit for himself."

"What do you mean? I won't be making out with anyone for a—" Cassie protested, but Becks shook her head.

"It's not about whatyou're thinking, it's about whatthey're thinking. Sometimes things get twisted up. If there's a man-shaped piece of shit in that crowd of gossip-mongering men, who's now gotten the idea that you'll take it however you can get it, he might take your refusal for just part of the game he thinks you're playing." At Cassie's aghast look, Becks clarified, "Where everything you do to stop him just translates into 'Yes, Yes, Yes!' in his mind." Her voice scaled up an octave in mimicry of an orgasmic affirmation.

Cassie tried to shut out the world for a moment with a hand over her eyes. "This is absurd! I got a little drunk and made out with one guy, after years of minding my own business and keeping to myself. There are plenty of other women out there more... 'out there' than I am. Why would anyone try to make trouble?"

Becks pushed the shock stick into Cassie's lap, insisting, "Yeah, I know the leadership would make a tent out of their skin afterwards, but that won't help you in the moment if shit happens." Cassie reluctantly picked it up and weighed it in her hand. "You know how to use one of these, don't you? The barbed tags fly out from the barrel when you hit the button here, and they do damage to whatever they land on, before the 'shock' part even starts."

"Yes. Well, thanks. I'll try to remember to carry it with me, at least until the Jubilee is completed and all the visitors have left. I can't imagine I'd need it after classes start up again, and I wouldn't want to bring it around the children—"

"We can figure out a way for you to carry it discreetly, but still accessible. Cassie, I hate to say it, but—visitors aren't the only possible dangers; attackers are not always strangers. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes," Cassie responded grimly. Without much more to say, she retreated to her own room for the night, taking the self-defense weapon with her.

***

As she made sure to avoid encountering or even mentioning Seth in the following days, Cassie started to ponder on what reasons she really had for staying in this particular community. People traded colonies all the time; it fostered diversity in products, skills, and communication. She wasn't essential for any particular responsibility that needed fulfilling in Maltic colony, and if Seth did not want her here when he returned from missions... She had to admit to that truth, at least to herself: she had stayed, however unthinkingly, because it was homebase for him.