Caprica Season 2 at Beginning of Line is brought to you with limited commercial interruption by
The Avenging Angels
Previously on Caprica:
Tamara unintentionally summons Fidelia to V-World and makes her a business proposition as they both deal with unresolved issues from their mutual past. (Episode Six - posted 3/8/11) Part 2 of a 3-part story.
Painting by Heather Carpenter.
Caprica Season 2, Episode 7
Safe Journey: The New Guatrau
Part 3 of 3
By Teresa Jusino
She heard troubled murmurs from the void and decided to investigate.
Not really murmurs, though. Murmurs implies voices, and voices imply
sentient beings that are alive. She stopped herself. She was alive, and if she was ever going to get into the real world for good, she would have to stop thinking that way.
Zoe followed the voices.
Tamara was still new at creating her own worlds. She was good, but had trouble choosing favorites, interlocking one favorite into another instead – a meadow next to a playground next to a bustling metropolis. Zoe never stopped or corrected her. She was always the one who reminded Tamara that they were gods in this place, and could do as they wished. And if she was going to keep Tamara on her side for what had to come next, she couldn't afford to offend her over something trivial. It was all about picking battles.
And so, Zoe came upon a bustling metropolis crawling with impeccably dressed Capricans and noticed an ornate building at the center of it all. The voices were coming from there, and so she approached it and entered, leaving the avatars of other players gawking in her wake at the sight of one of the Avenging Angels. “I thought they disappeared when V-World crashed...” she heard one of them say. Far from it, she thought.
The building was empty, and silent except for the voices, which were clearer now, and one of which was clearly Tamara. Zoe climbed the enormous marble staircase, drenched in perfect sunlight. She held out her arm to let the light shine on her skin and admired how warm and real it looked and felt. Tamara was much better at creating thing in nature than she was at creating anything else. Yes. When what had to come next came at last, Zoe would want Tamara there, creating sunlight just like this, and making sure the birds were chirping.
“And that’s what this comes down to,” a strange, female voice said. “This would pretty much make you Guatrau.”
“A teacher, maybe,” Tamara replied. “But I’m not interested in being anyone’s Guatrau. What use would I have for a title in here?”
Zoe felt a shudder at the sound of the word 'Guatrau.' What did Tamara have to do with the Guatrau of anything? Zoe approached the room on the landing from whence the voices came and flattened herself against the wall outside the doorway, hoping that Tamara was too engaged in her conversation to sense her there.
There was a time when Tamara would've meant what she said. Had she been speaking to the previous Guatrau, her refusal of titles would've been completely sincere. But Fidelia was someone that she couldn't bring herself to trust, and with that lack of trust came a desire to keep her in check. Perhaps as V-World's Guatrau...
No. Tamara stepped away from Fidelia and walked over to one of her bookshelves as casually as she could. She had to remember why she was doing this. This wasn't about self-aggrandizement. This was about Tauron. This was about the Taurans in Caprica City. This was about her father and her uncle. It was about her little brother who'd died for certain values while caught up in a hierarchy that didn't have to exist. Tamara would not allow Fidelia Fazekas of all people change her or her intentions.
She fingered the spine of Tauran Women Through the Ages and chuckled thinking about what a chapter on her and Fidelia would sound like.
“You have the chance to do things differently,” she said. “To make the Tauran people more powerful than they've ever been. All of them, not just the Ha'la'tha. An entire colony lifted up, and it would be all your doing. Think how grateful they'd be.”
Tamara turned and noticed that Fidelia was thinking about it, arms folded, eyes darting across the floor.
If what The Adama Girl was saying was true, the Ha'la'tha would soon be powerful enough to buy and sell the Twelve Worlds, what with half her recruits coming to V-World and the other half in the real world earning money the old-fashioned way. It was an interesting proposition, and one that merited consideration. But why was she doing this? More importantly, what would happen if Fidelia decided to say no? Or changed her mind?
“What's in this for you?” she asked.
“What do you care?” the girl replied.
Fidelia almost laughed. She realized then that, despite her altered state – rather, because of it – The Adama Girl would, emotionally, be a sixteen-year-old girl forever. The snarky tone, What do you care?, sounded very much like a girl mouthing off to her parents. It suddenly occurred to Fidelia that no matter what this girl threw at her, she would always have the upper hand. What The Adama Girl had in V-World influence, Fidelia more than made up for in real-world experience, and she'd be damned if she'd let herself be undone by a perpetually immature avatar.
“Oh, I care very much,” she answered. “It's my job to protect the interests of the Ha'la'tha. What? Did you think you'd just ask and I'd send people your way? To be nice? No one asks for an arrangement like this without wanting something in return, and I suspect that what you want in return might not necessarily be in our interests. So I'll ask you again. What's in this for you?”
The Adama Girl stayed silent.
“I see,” Fidelia continued. “And, what exactly happens if I turn down your little offer?”
“She destroys you,” a female voice replied from the entrance to the office. “Bit by bit.”
Tamara looked up and saw Zoe strolling in as if she owned the place, wearing one of her typically overdone “bad girl” outfits. Leather pants, corset top, bright red lipstick, blah, blah, blah. Tamara smoothed her sweater and pleated skirt and said,
“Now's not a good time.”
Zoe looked at Tamara with her eyebrows knit, searching her face for answers. Tamara shook her head.
Meanwhile, Fidelia became distracted as she looked at Zoe's face. Puzzled at first, Fidelia soon came alive with cloudy recognition.
“You're the terrorist,” Fidelia said. “The spoiled, rich girl responsible for all those deaths. You're here?”
“I did not...” Zoe began, but Tamara grabbed her arm and pulled her aside.
“I said, now is not a good time,” she said through clenched teeth.
Turning back to Fidelia, Tamara explained, “It's just the avatar. For some morbid reason, people have latched onto playing as her. This isn't the only one. There are a couple walking around if you look.”
“The Avenging Angels,” Fidelia said. “People have latched onto her, but they've latched on to you too, and here you are. You mean to tell me that Daniel Graystone kept you as an avatar but not his own daughter?”
Tamara looked back at Zoe and glared at her, hinting with her eyes that she should do what she could to get Fidelia off this line of questioning. Zoe begged with her eyes for answers at first, but when she saw that Tamara would not be moved, she pulled her arm away.
“Hey! Hands off the merchandise!” Zoe squealed in a voice that was a high-pitched parody of her own. “I paid good cubits for this!”
Zoe turned to Fidelia and it seemed that, without changing her physical appearance, she became a different person. Her movement became more clumsy and awkward, and she began smiling as if she were a contestant in a beauty pageant.
“Sorry!” Zoe said to Fidelia. “Didn't mean to freak you out. I just couldn't help myself. Love playing the character. I was hoping to get a scan with one of the Avenging Angels, and I saw this one come in here, so...”
Tamara was amused and struggled not to laugh. Zoe was good, and she was great at voices.
“So, you just...pretend to be a dead terrorist when you come in here?” Fidelia asked, crossing her arms and looking Zoe straight in the eye.
“Well, I mean – look, we don't really know what happened,” Zoe said. “And before all that...MAGLEV stuff....Zoe Graystone was all over the society pages and the fashion magazines and stuff. She was just hot, you know?” Zoe giggled and twirled to show off the hotness of her avatar. “I mean, who wouldn't wanna look like this in a fantasy, right?”
Tamara rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. Loudly.
“I think it's time you went back into the main gamespace,” Tamara said. “I'm in the middle of something.”
Zoe pouted. “But...but my scan! I told my friends that I'd...”
“Find me later. I'll be at Mysteries. You can have all the scans you want.”
Zoe bounced like a groupie. “Thank you! You're totally the nice one. Zoe Graystone is a bitch!”
“Eh. She's not so bad,” Tamara replied. “Kinda full of herself, but...”
Zoe followed the voices.
Tamara was still new at creating her own worlds. She was good, but had trouble choosing favorites, interlocking one favorite into another instead – a meadow next to a playground next to a bustling metropolis. Zoe never stopped or corrected her. She was always the one who reminded Tamara that they were gods in this place, and could do as they wished. And if she was going to keep Tamara on her side for what had to come next, she couldn't afford to offend her over something trivial. It was all about picking battles.
And so, Zoe came upon a bustling metropolis crawling with impeccably dressed Capricans and noticed an ornate building at the center of it all. The voices were coming from there, and so she approached it and entered, leaving the avatars of other players gawking in her wake at the sight of one of the Avenging Angels. “I thought they disappeared when V-World crashed...” she heard one of them say. Far from it, she thought.
The building was empty, and silent except for the voices, which were clearer now, and one of which was clearly Tamara. Zoe climbed the enormous marble staircase, drenched in perfect sunlight. She held out her arm to let the light shine on her skin and admired how warm and real it looked and felt. Tamara was much better at creating thing in nature than she was at creating anything else. Yes. When what had to come next came at last, Zoe would want Tamara there, creating sunlight just like this, and making sure the birds were chirping.
“And that’s what this comes down to,” a strange, female voice said. “This would pretty much make you Guatrau.”
“A teacher, maybe,” Tamara replied. “But I’m not interested in being anyone’s Guatrau. What use would I have for a title in here?”
Zoe felt a shudder at the sound of the word 'Guatrau.' What did Tamara have to do with the Guatrau of anything? Zoe approached the room on the landing from whence the voices came and flattened herself against the wall outside the doorway, hoping that Tamara was too engaged in her conversation to sense her there.
There was a time when Tamara would've meant what she said. Had she been speaking to the previous Guatrau, her refusal of titles would've been completely sincere. But Fidelia was someone that she couldn't bring herself to trust, and with that lack of trust came a desire to keep her in check. Perhaps as V-World's Guatrau...
No. Tamara stepped away from Fidelia and walked over to one of her bookshelves as casually as she could. She had to remember why she was doing this. This wasn't about self-aggrandizement. This was about Tauron. This was about the Taurans in Caprica City. This was about her father and her uncle. It was about her little brother who'd died for certain values while caught up in a hierarchy that didn't have to exist. Tamara would not allow Fidelia Fazekas of all people change her or her intentions.
She fingered the spine of Tauran Women Through the Ages and chuckled thinking about what a chapter on her and Fidelia would sound like.
“You have the chance to do things differently,” she said. “To make the Tauran people more powerful than they've ever been. All of them, not just the Ha'la'tha. An entire colony lifted up, and it would be all your doing. Think how grateful they'd be.”
Tamara turned and noticed that Fidelia was thinking about it, arms folded, eyes darting across the floor.
If what The Adama Girl was saying was true, the Ha'la'tha would soon be powerful enough to buy and sell the Twelve Worlds, what with half her recruits coming to V-World and the other half in the real world earning money the old-fashioned way. It was an interesting proposition, and one that merited consideration. But why was she doing this? More importantly, what would happen if Fidelia decided to say no? Or changed her mind?
“What's in this for you?” she asked.
“What do you care?” the girl replied.
Fidelia almost laughed. She realized then that, despite her altered state – rather, because of it – The Adama Girl would, emotionally, be a sixteen-year-old girl forever. The snarky tone, What do you care?, sounded very much like a girl mouthing off to her parents. It suddenly occurred to Fidelia that no matter what this girl threw at her, she would always have the upper hand. What The Adama Girl had in V-World influence, Fidelia more than made up for in real-world experience, and she'd be damned if she'd let herself be undone by a perpetually immature avatar.
“Oh, I care very much,” she answered. “It's my job to protect the interests of the Ha'la'tha. What? Did you think you'd just ask and I'd send people your way? To be nice? No one asks for an arrangement like this without wanting something in return, and I suspect that what you want in return might not necessarily be in our interests. So I'll ask you again. What's in this for you?”
The Adama Girl stayed silent.
“I see,” Fidelia continued. “And, what exactly happens if I turn down your little offer?”
“She destroys you,” a female voice replied from the entrance to the office. “Bit by bit.”
Tamara looked up and saw Zoe strolling in as if she owned the place, wearing one of her typically overdone “bad girl” outfits. Leather pants, corset top, bright red lipstick, blah, blah, blah. Tamara smoothed her sweater and pleated skirt and said,
“Now's not a good time.”
Zoe looked at Tamara with her eyebrows knit, searching her face for answers. Tamara shook her head.
Meanwhile, Fidelia became distracted as she looked at Zoe's face. Puzzled at first, Fidelia soon came alive with cloudy recognition.
“You're the terrorist,” Fidelia said. “The spoiled, rich girl responsible for all those deaths. You're here?”
“I did not...” Zoe began, but Tamara grabbed her arm and pulled her aside.
“I said, now is not a good time,” she said through clenched teeth.
Turning back to Fidelia, Tamara explained, “It's just the avatar. For some morbid reason, people have latched onto playing as her. This isn't the only one. There are a couple walking around if you look.”
“The Avenging Angels,” Fidelia said. “People have latched onto her, but they've latched on to you too, and here you are. You mean to tell me that Daniel Graystone kept you as an avatar but not his own daughter?”
Tamara looked back at Zoe and glared at her, hinting with her eyes that she should do what she could to get Fidelia off this line of questioning. Zoe begged with her eyes for answers at first, but when she saw that Tamara would not be moved, she pulled her arm away.
“Hey! Hands off the merchandise!” Zoe squealed in a voice that was a high-pitched parody of her own. “I paid good cubits for this!”
Zoe turned to Fidelia and it seemed that, without changing her physical appearance, she became a different person. Her movement became more clumsy and awkward, and she began smiling as if she were a contestant in a beauty pageant.
“Sorry!” Zoe said to Fidelia. “Didn't mean to freak you out. I just couldn't help myself. Love playing the character. I was hoping to get a scan with one of the Avenging Angels, and I saw this one come in here, so...”
Tamara was amused and struggled not to laugh. Zoe was good, and she was great at voices.
“So, you just...pretend to be a dead terrorist when you come in here?” Fidelia asked, crossing her arms and looking Zoe straight in the eye.
“Well, I mean – look, we don't really know what happened,” Zoe said. “And before all that...MAGLEV stuff....Zoe Graystone was all over the society pages and the fashion magazines and stuff. She was just hot, you know?” Zoe giggled and twirled to show off the hotness of her avatar. “I mean, who wouldn't wanna look like this in a fantasy, right?”
Tamara rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. Loudly.
“I think it's time you went back into the main gamespace,” Tamara said. “I'm in the middle of something.”
Zoe pouted. “But...but my scan! I told my friends that I'd...”
“Find me later. I'll be at Mysteries. You can have all the scans you want.”
Zoe bounced like a groupie. “Thank you! You're totally the nice one. Zoe Graystone is a bitch!”
“Eh. She's not so bad,” Tamara replied. “Kinda full of herself, but...”
And now, a word from our sponsor:
And now, back to "Safe Journey: The New Guatrau..."
The
interaction between The Adama Girl and this...other avatar puzzled
Fidelia. She thought she saw them smirk at each other before the one
that looked like Zoe Graystone bounded out of the room, but when she
turned to look at The Adama Girl, she was already looking at Fidelia,
expectant, ready to continue their conversation.
She backed away and strolled to the bookshelves to give herself some space. Clearly there was more going on here than what The Adama Girl was telling her, but she didn't know what. Perhaps getting some of her new recruits into V-World wasn't such a bad idea. Eyes and ears on the inside. If this little girl was as earnest as she looked, and really – Gods help her – was purely interested in the betterment of her people, then she'll be getting close to these recruits. They'll surely have all sorts of access, which might do Fidelia all sorts of good in the real world. If there was a connection here between The Adama Girl, Daniel Graystone, and Graystone's daughter, she wanted to know about it. Graystone Industries had taken far too great a hold on the Caprica's Ha'la'tha, when it was supposed to be the other way around, and Fidelia was looking for anything she could use to turn the tables.
“OK?” the girl said.
Fidelia whirled around. The girl had been speaking, but Fidelia hadn't been listening. “What?”
“I said, if you say no, you say no. There are no repercussions. We can even do this for a trial period. Six months. See if it works for both of us.”
Tamara walked toward Fidelia, bolder than she'd been during the entire encounter.
“I was coming to your father, because he understood how much being Tauran meant to my family – and to me. This was something I thought he'd love to take part in.”
She extended her hand.
“And now, I'm coming to you.”
Fidelia looked into The Adama Girl's eyes and saw herself. Her father, for some reason, had taken a liking to The Adama Girl, and that couldn't be ignored. She wasn't sure if all that should worry her or not, but she took the girl's hand anyway, even allowing herself the smallest of smiles.
“It looks like we're in business,” she said.
The girl smiled like a light going on and shook Fidelia's hand furiously.
“That's great!” she exclaimed. “And you won't be sorry. I promise you, this will be worth your while.”
Fidelia pulled her hand away.
“Yes...well, we'll see, won't we?”
They stood in awkward silence, taking each other in.
“How do I reach you?” Fidelia asked, finally. “To discuss logistics. Do I just send a message to Avatar-Of-A-Dead-Girl at Graystone dot com, or what?”
The Adama Girl blinked her eyes once and smiled.
“You do now.”
Tamara was thrilled, and she wasn't trying to hide it. She wished Fidelia would be more excited about it. As it was, she was entirely too concerned with what she could get out of it. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that Tamara could help with the phasing out of the Ha'la'tha as it was now. By providing young Taurans with options that might be denied them otherwise, they wouldn't be seduced so easily by the fast money that comes with being a soldier.
Her mother would be proud.
“Well, I guess that's it then. I'll message you soon,” Fidelia said. But she stopped short of removing her holoband and lowered her hands.
“Is something wrong?” Tamara asked her.
“There isn't an avatar of your mother, is there?”
Tamara couldn't believe Fidelia was asking her this. She struggled to maintain her composure.
“No. Why.”
Fidelia sighed and stood for a moment with her eyes closed. When she opened them, she said, “If there were...I would've wanted to tell her I was sorry. And, not that it makes a difference now...but it's not as if Yusif wants anything to do with me other than business...”
“OK, Rule Number One of us working together?” Tamara insisted. “You do not talk to me about my family unless I ask.”
Fidelia nodded. “Understood.”
She lifted her hands to her temples. “I'll be seeing you online.”
Fidelia de-rezzed.
Tamara walked through the void. Past the established gaming areas and beyond Zoe's territories. She walked where it was black. She allowed herself a hop and a skip in the dark in celebration of the rest of her life. Free of the fabrications of V-World she allowed herself to be truly herself.
And, just for fun, she made herself a ring.
Tamara had glanced at Fidelia's ring several times during their meeting and wondered what it would look like on her own finger. Taking a look at it now, she liked it, despite the style being a bit too large for her hand. It lent her hand a kind of dignity. She would keep it. Later, she would begin figuring out logistics, coming up with a curriculum. What exactly would she expect from these new recruits once they arrived? Later, she would figure this out. But now, she was celebrating, and felt pure joy for the first time in what seemed like forever.
She twirled and twirled, watching as the pleats in her skirt rippled around her. Then, eyes closed, she stretched her arms out and tossed her head back, just to feel...everything. In the past few months, she’d given herself a heartbeat, something Zoe frowned upon as sentimental. She’d given herself the coded equivalent of nerves under skin. She felt those things now; air against her arms and legs as she twirled, her heart pounding within her. She gave herself these things. Tamara couldn’t exist in the outside world, but she’d stopped seeing that as the only acceptable alternative long ago. Her life had been taken without her consent, but she’d taken it back, and she would go on living, here, and no one could stop her. After sixteen years of complacency, after tragedy, after being ripped from the underworld and forced into this technological limbo, Tamara’s most subversive act was continuing to live. To live in the way she wanted, despite everything.
Tamara opened her eyes and saw Zoe’s face as she twirled. She stopped, annoyed that Zoe kept showing up, kept insinuating herself into her life.
“So, that was a good meeting,” Zoe said.
“Yes,” Tamara replied. “It was. Very good, actually.”
“What was it about?”
Tamara raised an eyebrow. She knew damn well that Zoe had already downloaded the entire meeting from Fidelia’s computer cache.
“Look, we need to talk about something,” Tamara said. “You’ve been a huge help to me, and I will always be grateful to you for that. When I was new to this...way of being, you were totally there for me. And even after I took my anger about it out on you, you were there for me...”
“Why do I feel a huge brush-off coming on?” Zoe asked.
Tamara pursed her lips and folded her arms.
“It’s not a brush-off. I’m only asking for what’s mine. Before you, I was able to do what I wanted. Since you found me, it’s like you’ve taken over. Like I’m your subordinate.”
“That’s not it at all!” Zoe insisted. “I don’t think of you as a subordinate! We’re a team! We’ll bring the word of the One True God to the people together!”
“That’s just it! I don’t give a frak about the One True God, which you’d know if you’d ever bothered to ask me! I’m a polytheist, for frak’s sake!”
Zoe sighed in that condescending way that drove Tamara crazy.
“I went along,” Tamara continued. “Because I didn't know what else to do. I’m sorry if you thought I was more invested than that. But I’ve finally realized my purpose, and it has nothing to do with this mission of yours.”
“So, what?” Zoe asked. “You’re just going to leave me? Is that it?”
“I was never really with you,” Tamara answered. “I’m asking you to let me go.”
It dawned on Tamara that she'd asked that of a lot of people lately. People seemed to value her most in her demureness, holding on to her as a quiet, comforting constant. She didn’t realize until that moment that it bothered her. If people were going to value her, she wanted it to be because of her. She wanted people to value her contributions, her ideas, her voice. Tamara didn't want people holding onto her based on their idea of her, or what she could be, and that seemed to be all anyone ever did. Not anymore.
Zoe couldn’t feel her heart, but she knew that she was hurt anyway. Tamara was the only one who knew exactly what she was going through, and Zoe wasn't sure what any of this meant.
“So, we can’t talk now? Is that it?” she asked.
Tamara smiled. “No,” she said. “That’s not it. It’s just...I don’t report to you. I need space. Lots of it. I have a purpose of my own now, things to do, and I need to know that you’ll respect my privacy. I know that you’ll pick things up regardless, I know how it works. Just...stop focusing on me. Stop expecting me. Just, stop.”
A part of Zoe understood what Tamara was asking for, but she couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that she was being insulted. She’d planned on Tamara being her eyes and ears in V-World if she and her parents ever figured out how to get her into the real world. Now what?
“Fine,” Zoe said, finally. “I’ll stay away from you, and you stay away from me...”
Tamara reached out and put her hands on Zoe’s shoulders.
“That’s not what I mean,” she said. “I don’t want this to be hostile. I don’t wanna fight you...”
“Good. ‘Cause you’d lose.”
Tamara took her hands off of Zoe.
“Don’t underestimate me, Zoe,”
Suddenly, there was tension where Tamara intended none. She covered her face with her hands and rubbed it, trying to recapture her earlier state of joy.
“Zoe,” she sighed. “I have nothing against you. And you should have nothing against me. We’re separate, that’s all. You do your thing, I’ll do mine. That’s all I’m asking for.”
Zoe visibly softened. Tamara wasn’t sure if what she was saying had finally sunken in, or if Zoe was acting, but she took it.
“I want us to keep talking,” Tamara said. “I mean, it’s not like there’s a support group for girls like us, right?”
Zoe chuckled. This was a good sign.
“Could you imagine the meetings? God,” Zoe said.
“You can always find me,” Tamara said. “And I’d like to think you’ll let me find you. Just...you know...knock.”
Zoe nodded. Then she surprised Tamara by hugging her. Tamara took that, too. And she actually felt the warmth in her skin, felt the comfort. She wished Zoe would let herself feel those things in here instead of pining so much for Out There.
“Well,” Zoe said, releasing her. “I guess I’d better get back to doing all that stuff you’re not interested in anymore.”
“Zoe...”
“It’s OK. I get it. I do. And it’s OK.”
Zoe took a few tentative steps backward. She looked at Tamara and smiled.
“I don’t underestimate you, you know,” she said.
“Good,” Tamara replied.
Silence. Then Zoe held up her hand to wave goodbye.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you,” she said.
“Safe journey,” Tamara replied.
“What?”
“It’s a Tauran thing...never mind.”
Tamara watched as Zoe walked off, disappearing into the black. She twisted her new ring around her finger. She began to create. She began to live.
She backed away and strolled to the bookshelves to give herself some space. Clearly there was more going on here than what The Adama Girl was telling her, but she didn't know what. Perhaps getting some of her new recruits into V-World wasn't such a bad idea. Eyes and ears on the inside. If this little girl was as earnest as she looked, and really – Gods help her – was purely interested in the betterment of her people, then she'll be getting close to these recruits. They'll surely have all sorts of access, which might do Fidelia all sorts of good in the real world. If there was a connection here between The Adama Girl, Daniel Graystone, and Graystone's daughter, she wanted to know about it. Graystone Industries had taken far too great a hold on the Caprica's Ha'la'tha, when it was supposed to be the other way around, and Fidelia was looking for anything she could use to turn the tables.
“OK?” the girl said.
Fidelia whirled around. The girl had been speaking, but Fidelia hadn't been listening. “What?”
“I said, if you say no, you say no. There are no repercussions. We can even do this for a trial period. Six months. See if it works for both of us.”
Tamara walked toward Fidelia, bolder than she'd been during the entire encounter.
“I was coming to your father, because he understood how much being Tauran meant to my family – and to me. This was something I thought he'd love to take part in.”
She extended her hand.
“And now, I'm coming to you.”
Fidelia looked into The Adama Girl's eyes and saw herself. Her father, for some reason, had taken a liking to The Adama Girl, and that couldn't be ignored. She wasn't sure if all that should worry her or not, but she took the girl's hand anyway, even allowing herself the smallest of smiles.
“It looks like we're in business,” she said.
The girl smiled like a light going on and shook Fidelia's hand furiously.
“That's great!” she exclaimed. “And you won't be sorry. I promise you, this will be worth your while.”
Fidelia pulled her hand away.
“Yes...well, we'll see, won't we?”
They stood in awkward silence, taking each other in.
“How do I reach you?” Fidelia asked, finally. “To discuss logistics. Do I just send a message to Avatar-Of-A-Dead-Girl at Graystone dot com, or what?”
The Adama Girl blinked her eyes once and smiled.
“You do now.”
Tamara was thrilled, and she wasn't trying to hide it. She wished Fidelia would be more excited about it. As it was, she was entirely too concerned with what she could get out of it. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that Tamara could help with the phasing out of the Ha'la'tha as it was now. By providing young Taurans with options that might be denied them otherwise, they wouldn't be seduced so easily by the fast money that comes with being a soldier.
Her mother would be proud.
“Well, I guess that's it then. I'll message you soon,” Fidelia said. But she stopped short of removing her holoband and lowered her hands.
“Is something wrong?” Tamara asked her.
“There isn't an avatar of your mother, is there?”
Tamara couldn't believe Fidelia was asking her this. She struggled to maintain her composure.
“No. Why.”
Fidelia sighed and stood for a moment with her eyes closed. When she opened them, she said, “If there were...I would've wanted to tell her I was sorry. And, not that it makes a difference now...but it's not as if Yusif wants anything to do with me other than business...”
“OK, Rule Number One of us working together?” Tamara insisted. “You do not talk to me about my family unless I ask.”
Fidelia nodded. “Understood.”
She lifted her hands to her temples. “I'll be seeing you online.”
Fidelia de-rezzed.
Tamara walked through the void. Past the established gaming areas and beyond Zoe's territories. She walked where it was black. She allowed herself a hop and a skip in the dark in celebration of the rest of her life. Free of the fabrications of V-World she allowed herself to be truly herself.
And, just for fun, she made herself a ring.
Tamara had glanced at Fidelia's ring several times during their meeting and wondered what it would look like on her own finger. Taking a look at it now, she liked it, despite the style being a bit too large for her hand. It lent her hand a kind of dignity. She would keep it. Later, she would begin figuring out logistics, coming up with a curriculum. What exactly would she expect from these new recruits once they arrived? Later, she would figure this out. But now, she was celebrating, and felt pure joy for the first time in what seemed like forever.
She twirled and twirled, watching as the pleats in her skirt rippled around her. Then, eyes closed, she stretched her arms out and tossed her head back, just to feel...everything. In the past few months, she’d given herself a heartbeat, something Zoe frowned upon as sentimental. She’d given herself the coded equivalent of nerves under skin. She felt those things now; air against her arms and legs as she twirled, her heart pounding within her. She gave herself these things. Tamara couldn’t exist in the outside world, but she’d stopped seeing that as the only acceptable alternative long ago. Her life had been taken without her consent, but she’d taken it back, and she would go on living, here, and no one could stop her. After sixteen years of complacency, after tragedy, after being ripped from the underworld and forced into this technological limbo, Tamara’s most subversive act was continuing to live. To live in the way she wanted, despite everything.
Tamara opened her eyes and saw Zoe’s face as she twirled. She stopped, annoyed that Zoe kept showing up, kept insinuating herself into her life.
“So, that was a good meeting,” Zoe said.
“Yes,” Tamara replied. “It was. Very good, actually.”
“What was it about?”
Tamara raised an eyebrow. She knew damn well that Zoe had already downloaded the entire meeting from Fidelia’s computer cache.
“Look, we need to talk about something,” Tamara said. “You’ve been a huge help to me, and I will always be grateful to you for that. When I was new to this...way of being, you were totally there for me. And even after I took my anger about it out on you, you were there for me...”
“Why do I feel a huge brush-off coming on?” Zoe asked.
Tamara pursed her lips and folded her arms.
“It’s not a brush-off. I’m only asking for what’s mine. Before you, I was able to do what I wanted. Since you found me, it’s like you’ve taken over. Like I’m your subordinate.”
“That’s not it at all!” Zoe insisted. “I don’t think of you as a subordinate! We’re a team! We’ll bring the word of the One True God to the people together!”
“That’s just it! I don’t give a frak about the One True God, which you’d know if you’d ever bothered to ask me! I’m a polytheist, for frak’s sake!”
Zoe sighed in that condescending way that drove Tamara crazy.
“I went along,” Tamara continued. “Because I didn't know what else to do. I’m sorry if you thought I was more invested than that. But I’ve finally realized my purpose, and it has nothing to do with this mission of yours.”
“So, what?” Zoe asked. “You’re just going to leave me? Is that it?”
“I was never really with you,” Tamara answered. “I’m asking you to let me go.”
It dawned on Tamara that she'd asked that of a lot of people lately. People seemed to value her most in her demureness, holding on to her as a quiet, comforting constant. She didn’t realize until that moment that it bothered her. If people were going to value her, she wanted it to be because of her. She wanted people to value her contributions, her ideas, her voice. Tamara didn't want people holding onto her based on their idea of her, or what she could be, and that seemed to be all anyone ever did. Not anymore.
Zoe couldn’t feel her heart, but she knew that she was hurt anyway. Tamara was the only one who knew exactly what she was going through, and Zoe wasn't sure what any of this meant.
“So, we can’t talk now? Is that it?” she asked.
Tamara smiled. “No,” she said. “That’s not it. It’s just...I don’t report to you. I need space. Lots of it. I have a purpose of my own now, things to do, and I need to know that you’ll respect my privacy. I know that you’ll pick things up regardless, I know how it works. Just...stop focusing on me. Stop expecting me. Just, stop.”
A part of Zoe understood what Tamara was asking for, but she couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that she was being insulted. She’d planned on Tamara being her eyes and ears in V-World if she and her parents ever figured out how to get her into the real world. Now what?
“Fine,” Zoe said, finally. “I’ll stay away from you, and you stay away from me...”
Tamara reached out and put her hands on Zoe’s shoulders.
“That’s not what I mean,” she said. “I don’t want this to be hostile. I don’t wanna fight you...”
“Good. ‘Cause you’d lose.”
Tamara took her hands off of Zoe.
“Don’t underestimate me, Zoe,”
Suddenly, there was tension where Tamara intended none. She covered her face with her hands and rubbed it, trying to recapture her earlier state of joy.
“Zoe,” she sighed. “I have nothing against you. And you should have nothing against me. We’re separate, that’s all. You do your thing, I’ll do mine. That’s all I’m asking for.”
Zoe visibly softened. Tamara wasn’t sure if what she was saying had finally sunken in, or if Zoe was acting, but she took it.
“I want us to keep talking,” Tamara said. “I mean, it’s not like there’s a support group for girls like us, right?”
Zoe chuckled. This was a good sign.
“Could you imagine the meetings? God,” Zoe said.
“You can always find me,” Tamara said. “And I’d like to think you’ll let me find you. Just...you know...knock.”
Zoe nodded. Then she surprised Tamara by hugging her. Tamara took that, too. And she actually felt the warmth in her skin, felt the comfort. She wished Zoe would let herself feel those things in here instead of pining so much for Out There.
“Well,” Zoe said, releasing her. “I guess I’d better get back to doing all that stuff you’re not interested in anymore.”
“Zoe...”
“It’s OK. I get it. I do. And it’s OK.”
Zoe took a few tentative steps backward. She looked at Tamara and smiled.
“I don’t underestimate you, you know,” she said.
“Good,” Tamara replied.
Silence. Then Zoe held up her hand to wave goodbye.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you,” she said.
“Safe journey,” Tamara replied.
“What?”
“It’s a Tauran thing...never mind.”
Tamara watched as Zoe walked off, disappearing into the black. She twisted her new ring around her finger. She began to create. She began to live.
Caprica ©2010, Syfy. A Division of NBC Universal.
Beginning of Line is a fan site with no affiliation to Caprica, Syfy, or NBC Universal. You should totes know that.
And "Safe Journey: The New Guatrau" belongs to Teresa Jusino. No, the characters aren't hers, and she can't get paid for it, but if you want to reprint it anywhere, it'd be nice if you asked.
Beginning of Line is a fan site with no affiliation to Caprica, Syfy, or NBC Universal. You should totes know that.
And "Safe Journey: The New Guatrau" belongs to Teresa Jusino. No, the characters aren't hers, and she can't get paid for it, but if you want to reprint it anywhere, it'd be nice if you asked.
