To thine own self
by Ainzfern
16
Raoul Am, Jupiter's respected Chief Biologist, and second in command of the Tanagura Syndicate, a Blondie Elite of the highest status and keenest intelligence, was in a state of internal divergence greater than he had ever experienced before.
As he strode from the entrance of bio-mechanics facility located on the outskirts of Tanagura towards his chauffeured vehicle with Katze, the mongrel lead-dealer of the Ceres black market at his side, Raoul's perfectly composed and even mildly benevolent expression gave no outward sign of this whatsoever. But of course he was an Elite, and Elites were nothing if not incredibly good at concealing their feelings.
He had, after all, been doing just that for most of his life.
This morning's tour of his newest facility had been a revelation to him on several different levels. For the first time, Raoul had truly accepted that his mongrel friend had an intellect that well and truly measured up to any Elite's. Of course, he'd always known that Katze was clever, but there had still been some inner part of Raoul that had remained almost arrogant in his definition of that. Katze, he had felt, had been remarkably clever for a mongrel, yet not quite on the same level of mental capability as himself.
Today he had found cause to look inward at that rather condescending assumption, finally seeing it for was what it truly was... a leftover of his edification and conditioning as an Amoi Elite. As a matter of fact, Raoul thought now as he watched his driver alight from the vehicle and open the rear doors for both him and his guest, he had actually been given cause to take a singularly revised view of some of his longest held perceptions.
As they had moved through the facility together, Raoul had been both delighted and challenged by the level of questioning that Katze had subjected him to. The ex-Furniture's queries had been precise and focused, clearly demonstrating his deep and tangible understanding of both the theory and the process of bio-mechanics. His observations had been startlingly exact, and Raoul had enjoyed tremendously the opportunity to expand on his explanations without having to simplify any of the terms or concepts.
In addition to that, when he and Katze had entered the central processing room, where several techs were carefully monitoring current experiments and collating data, Raoul had been given yet another reason to feel impressed by the mongrel's intellectual acumen. Upon entering the glass encased room overlooking the laboratory floor, Raoul had been approached by his chief technician in the section. The man had been respectful but agitated; clearly vexed by a problem he had encountered in one of the production units on the lab floor.
His tech had only gotten partway through his explanation, detailing how the unit was continuing to display inconsistent data, when Katze had almost diffidently cleared his throat.
"Uh... Raoul?" He had leaned towards Raoul slightly, his thought-filled gaze locked upon the unit that the tech had identified. "I think I might know what's wrong there. D'you mind if I take a look?"
Although the tech had looked slightly affronted, Raoul had gestured for Katze to proceed. Having seen firsthand the work that Katze had produced for the amniotic tank support systems, he'd had little doubt that there was certainly a benefit to at least allowing him to assess the unit – different though it might have been from anything Katze had seen before.
Five minutes.
That's all it had taken. Despite the half-hearted objections voiced by Raoul's chief technician, the ex-Furniture had accessed the DOS mainframe behind the unit's visible user application, punched in a single sequence, nodded and adjusted the cabling at the rear of the unit, and then made a few small changes to its operating instructions, re-routing its data feed directly to the section's main computers. A quick verification with the young man seated in front of the multi terminals was all that was required to see that the data was now streaming through correctly.
"There just isn't enough random access memory in the unit to filter that volume of information through it on a local level," Katze had explained to the somewhat awed chief technician. "You just needed to link it to the central computer so that it could access additional memory space, like an external drive would."
Shaking his head, Raoul's tech had huffed a wry little chuckle. "You wouldn't believe how long I've been fooling about with that thing," he'd told Katze then, "Really, I wish I could have just called you in the first place."
Katze had simply shrugged and nodded a genial farewell as he and Raoul had continued through the facility.
But, there was certainly something to what the tech had said that seemed to stay in Raoul's mind. An idea had begun to form, a notion of making Katze a more or less permanent member of his team. An almost instinctive ability for technical troubleshooting was a gift of no small magnitude, and a man like Katze, who coupled a remarkable talent for technology with a genuine intelligence, would be an incredible asset. That was, of course, assuming that the man would even want the job, involved as he was with his own pursuits in the coordination of the Ceres market.
And it was then that it had struck him; partway through the facility, between the experimental laboratory wing and the major fabrication floor, that he had been underestimating Katze of Ceres all along. And, upon the heels of that realization, Raoul had experienced an equally surprising moment of personal clarity.
Katze might indeed be physically less resilient than he was, not having had the added advantage of being genetically enhanced; but he was, it appeared, entirely Raoul's equal on an intellectual level.
And with that understanding had come a small but significant change in Raoul's perception of Katze that would forever alter the way that he regarded him.
He had accepted some time back that he felt a definite emotional bond to the man, protective, yes, but still tempered by his own innate sense of propriety. He considered him a friend, perhaps even somewhat more than that, but it had still been quite separate from any form of baser physical appetite. And, even as this new idea had formed and expanded in his mind, Raoul had tried to push it aside as something that was both extraneous and unnecessary.
Such a thing was not so easy, he was starting to realize.
Now, as he nodded to his driver and elegantly lowered himself into the rear of the car, he found his gaze almost automatically seeking Katze's face again, noting the brightness of the man's eyes, the flush of genuine pleasure in his animated expression. It was obvious Katze had enjoyed himself immensely this morning. Curiously, Raoul was unsurprised to realize he himself was almost ridiculously gratified to see Katze this content, as if his own emotions were somehow a reflection of the mongrel's.
It was a disturbing notion, Raoul had to confess. Certainly at this time of his life, this time in his career, it was not something that he would ever have imagined, even in his darkest unspoken dreams, he would find himself considering.
But he wanted Katze.
He wondered if he had not been drawing closer to this moment all along, ever since he had come to know Katze as an individual, but had just been refusing to acknowledge it in the vague hope that it would cease to exist.
Like a slow insistent beat that pulsed with his blood, the knowledge flowed through him, undeniable and implacable. As an Elite, as befitting his station, he had always held himself above such things. He had never before yearned for another being. He had been attracted to physical beauty, certainly, in a contained and distant manner, but not like this. Not with this discomforting depth, this singularity of focus. It filled him with a complex mix of conflicting thoughts and emotions.
There was heightened excitement, unquestionably; a sense of unformed anticipation that he shied away from even as he felt it growing inside of him. He seemed to be aware of Katze now, in a way that he hadn't been before. The man's voice, his scent... these things now affected his own senses, compelled his attention.
Had Iason felt like this? He wondered suddenly, watching as Katze settled into the seat beside him and turned to gaze out the window back at the bio-mechanical plant for a moment. Had he felt this impossible sense of urgency, the feeling that he was being pulled, almost against his will and certainly against his better judgment, in one particular direction?
Had it disturbed him as much? Raoul rubbed the back of his neck absently as he spoke a few soft words to his driver, instructing him to first drop Katze at his apartment in Upper Midas before taking Raoul himself back to the Bio-Lab. Had it shaken and compelled him as deeply? Had he felt this burgeoning need to express more than just verbal affection, to the point where continuing not to so was becoming strangely painful?
Raoul suspected, most strongly, that the answer to these questions was 'yes'.
And he also suspected, as he turned his outward attention back to Katze once more, responding to another searching question about the bio-mechanical processes, that what he needed to do... as soon as possible, was to talk to Iason Mink, the one Elite he knew that could possibly understand.
Rising to fondly clasp arms with Raoul as Dane lead the Elite into the main penthouse area, Iason immediately noted the unusually taut expression on his friend's face. Gesturing for him to seat himself and resuming his own place in his usual armchair, Iason waited until Dane had finished setting out light refreshments and retreated back to the kitchen before he spoke. "You sounded almost disturbed when you called me this evening, Raoul," Iason moved straight to the point. "Did your tour of the bio-mechanics facility not go well?"
Raoul grimaced slightly, reaching for his filled glass of wine. "It was actually a most pleasant interlude, Iason," he replied before taking a slow sip, one brow almost absently twitching in approval at the fine vintage, "But, therein, essentially lays the root of my particular issue." He glanced around the room for a moment, hesitating.
Iason carefully smothered a smile, reading his old friend more easily than any book. "He's locked in his office at the moment," he murmured. "Decoding some rather obstinate files, I understand."
"Oh?"
"Yes," Iason lifted one shoulder briefly. "At least, they are if the swearing is anything to go by." He chuckled tolerantly. "However, if you wished to extemporize on your own more colorful vocabulary, you can always listen outside the door for a few moments."
Raoul shook his head, smiling tiredly. "I believe I will pass on that, if you don't mind."
Leaning forward, Iason looked closely at Raoul's face. "So, I am assuming the matter you wish to discuss is private?"
"And most personal." Raoul's eyes investigated the contents of his wine glass for a moment. "Almost indefinable, actually, if I had to describe it at all," he continued meeting Iason's eyes once more. "In fact...I must wonder now if my coming here is even the right course of action."
Iason settled back in his chair, steepling his elegant fingers and regarding the Blondie opposite him with measured patience. "You are being evasive, my friend."
Raoul lifted his hands in a vaguely helpless gesture. "I... this is a difficult issue for me."
Iason nodded slowly.
"In fact, I fear that I may appear hypocritical to you."
"Oh? How so?"
Raoul sighed deeply, his discomfort plainly visible. "I find myself... rather conflicted, Iason. When I consider how much time I spent literally berating you for your involvement with Riki, I feel as though asking your advice now seems almost ill-mannered."
Shaking his head, his own suspicions rapidly coalescing in his mind, Iason held Raoul's' eyes with absolute sincerity. "Believe me, my friend; I would never label you with such a misnomer. You may always speak your mind to me, Raoul, without fear of judgment or ridicule. Surely you know that by now."
Raoul relaxed slightly. "Yes. Of course I do." He wet his lips, setting his broad shoulders firmly. "It's a matter of attraction."
"Ah."
"I'm afraid my fondness, my affection, for Katze has..." he paused, struggling with it.
"...Intensified?" Iason suggested gently.
"Yes." Raoul's eyes closed briefly, a tiny frown crossing his normally smooth brow.
"I see no hypocrisy in that at all, Raoul," Iason assured him, sitting forward once more. "Changing perceptions cannot be anticipated and sometimes, despite how we might wish it were otherwise, fate itself can play a distinct part in our lives."
Raoul's expression grew rueful. "I certainly feel a depth of empathy for your own past situation," he replied, his tone thoughtful and almost sorrowful. The eyes that met Iason's were touched with regret. "And I was not at all helpful to you at the time, was I? I am sorry for that."
Iason waved a hand at him. "There is no need to be sorry. I know that you helped me the best way you knew how."
"But I did not support you."
"How could you have?" Iason tilted his head, his pale eyes direct. "If I recall correctly, I was not exactly responsive to your concerns, was I?"
"You felt you were alone in your struggle," Raoul murmured. "And, I suppose in retrospect, you were right about that."
"But that was then, and this is now... and you, Raoul, are not alone." Feeling his jaw firm, Iason held up one elegant hand. "Enough self-recriminations. They serve no purpose. Just tell me... how can I help you?"
"I am entirely torn," Raoul's rich voice dropped to a mere whisper. "I have never felt such divergence within myself. I knew that my affection for Katze was deepening and, I suppose, that as long as affection was all I felt, I was confident that I could contain it."
"But..."
"I have always prided myself on my sense of control, my... 'Elite' attributes if you will. I was at ease with myself; comfortable in my life, my role in the Syndicate, my station in society. But now, all of a sudden, it appears that this is not enough." Raoul's splendid eyes grew haunted. "I feel as though I desperately want to hold onto that life, my sense of self and my security... yet, there is a growing part of me that wants something beyond it. Something that, all my life, I had clearly understood was not appropriate."
Iason sighed softly. He could understand Raoul's anguish quite well. After all, he had been there himself not so long ago.
"There is no simple solution to this, Raoul," he told his friend, his silken voice low, "I wish there was, but... as you and I know from experience, this is going to be a difficult time for you. As it was for me."
Raoul huffed a mirthless little chuckle. "At least, thanks mostly to your social reforms, I need not worry about having to die in order to attain my Companion."
"Yes. Well." Tickled by Raoul's turn of phrase, Iason laughed softly. "As the leader of the Syndicate, I could hardly do things by halves now, could I?" He sobered again, nodding seriously. "It is true that the 'taboo' of such relationships no longer exists, but I must warn you... you will still encounter bigotry, you will still encounter small minds. You will be judged by your actions, judged by your peers. But, in the end, if you feel as I did, that the benefits far outweighed the negative aspects, then I can only suggest you will find yourself feeling wholly complete once more."
Raoul frowned. "Have you? Experienced bigotry?"
"Oh, not overtly, of course," Iason waved a hand at him. "Even the most mule-headed Elite would be unwise in the extreme to openly criticize the man who signs off on his budgetary allowances every year," he smirked slightly. "But... I will admit that my social calendar has been drastically reduced due to my decision to legitimize my relationship with Riki."
"I didn't realize, Iason," Raoul said softly.
"I've not made much comment on it, either way." Iason shrugged again. "Besides, in all honesty, it is somewhat of a relief not to have to attend all those interminable events, mingling with people that I genuinely despise."
"You've made many sacrifices for this, haven't you?"
"Yes," Iason replied with disarming honestly. "But I have gained much more than I have lost. Don't forget that."
Raoul smiled at him sadly. "So... it comes down to a choice, then?"
"I'm sorry to say that it does, my friend." Iason returned his smile. "I would like to have some words of wisdom that could make everything effortless, but I do not. You have to choose what life you want, Raoul. That is all. I can, however, offer you this... that whatever you decide you will always have my support. You will always be welcomed here. My regard for you will always be of the highest order."
"As is mine for you, Iason." Raoul's voice was tight as he rose to his feet. "You have given me much to think upon. Thank you."
"You are most welcome." Iason stood, walking his friend to the door. "I am assuming that Katze is accompanying you to the official launch of the completed tanks at Partia?"
Raoul nodded. "Of course. His contribution to the success of the project must rightly be acknowledged."
"Raoul," Iason paused in the act of opening the door, "Perhaps I may just draw your attention to one other point you should consider."
"Oh?"
"You have already appeared with Katze at several public locations including the prototype launch at Partia."
Raoul frowned slightly. "This I know."
"So..." Iason tilted his head thoughtfully. "Has it not occurred to you that your peers have already assumed you are 'involved' with a mongrel?" He felt his lips curve into a droll little smile. "That being the case, don't you think it would be rather redundant to deny yourself any opportunities just to protect a reputation that is already compromised?"
Raoul stared at him.
Iason opened the door, his expression artfully bland. "Just something to consider."
To thine own self – chapter 15 << >> To thine own self – chapter 17