There are Ouroboros Games after-parties all over New Merenis, and I’m invited to every single one. But the most prestigious of all is, of course, the one in the Gold Lounge.
The Gold Lounge takes its name from the gold trim on the trading cards which is earned by the emanations when I fall in love with them. I have a love-hate relationship with the Gold Lounge. On the one hand, it seems overly exclusive and cruel, accentuating a division in my estimation of the emanations which I try my best to downplay. On the other hand, it’s perversely my favorite place in the universe. I feel comfortable here, secure, loved, surrounded by the most handsome men, the most sparkling company, the best of the best, the ones who had become familiar through years of long affection, but never tarnished due to overexposure.
Ash manipulates that very carefully. He’d also spent years trying to convince me that they were all him (true); that if one of them wins, they all win (less true?) Now that I understand fully about the sparks, it is hard to imagine them as other than individuals. In which case, their position in relationship to me is decidedly unfair.
Of course, they have each other. That is something I have always encouraged. Watching two hot guys go at each other – where’s the downside of that?
The downside is that with the ever-expanding pleroma, they’re spending more time with each other than with me.
But that was always true, wasn’t it? They’re all part of Ash. My being jealous of their relationships with each other is as stupid as…well, as when they’re jealous of their relationships with each other.
Seriously, Patrick wouldn’t care if Ailann seduced Julian. Nobody would mind if Ailann seduced Julian. But if Ailann seduced Patrick, Cillian would blow a holepunch relay regulator. Because Julian is a boi, and Patrick is a man, and Cillian is Ailann’s man. Even I know that.
Geez.
I notice Evan standing by himself, looking a bit melancholy. He’s missing Quennel – Quennel, who isn’t here because he doesn’t have a Gold Card. I need a drink.
There’s chinstrap penguin tending bar. Why not Tommy? He’s my Ipsissimal Bartender; I shouldn’t be served by anyone less. « Tommy ought to be here, » I say to Ailann, annoyed.
He looks at me archly. « You’re the one who decides who gets into the Gold Lounge, » he replies.
I’m about to answer that he knows damn well how emanations get admittance to the Gold Lounge when I realize that he’s right. I don’t understand why Tommy doesn’t have a Gold Card. He’s my closest friend, yet I go months on end without seeing him. It seems like I could at least hang out with him while I’m in the pleroma. « But you don’t decide to fall in love with someone, do you? »
« I think Ashvattha did, » says Rand.
« Atlas didn’t have a choice, but Ashvattha decided. » says Ailann. « But then, it’s different for a nul-entity. »
« I’m not so sure of that, » says Ari. « If anything, it’s worse. Our choices are irrevocable. I remember the first time I sensed Manasseh. I wanted so badly to join with him. I wonder what I would’ve done if it wasn’t for Stephen and Valentin coming along and pushing us to synchronize? Of course, the final incentive was when Thomas showed us Tara’s Destiny. »
I’ve heard this story before. Atlas made Thomas as a copy of Tommy to communicate with Goliath. Atlas picked Tommy as the messenger because he’s so important to me.
For the first time, I understand that it’s me fighting against this. Maybe it’s just a gut instinct that if I let myself fall in love with Tommy, it will change everything. He’s my confidante. If he were my lover for real – not just my fuck buddy – then who could I confide in about Tommy? I’d need a second Tommy, basically.
Actually, I have a second Tommy. What I need is that drink. Ash, you droidfucker, is there any contingency you don’t anticipate?
« Get me Tommy. I want a proper martini. »
Tommy is at the door almost immediately. He stares at me. I stare at him. I don’t know what to say. Suddenly, it’s awkward.
Everything changed.
Aaargh!
Ari is grinning from ear to ear. Then I remember that Tommy and Ari are lovers. That Tommy and I have both had Ari is embarrassing, yet titillating, like accidentally opening to a racy media push channel in front of others. Somebody got a glimpse of something that turns me on.
Tommy got more than a glimpse. Tommy fucking curates the sexual experiences of every branch, including both their experiences with me and with each other. Tommy’s role in life is to be a connoisseur of everything that dances on the edge of being seedy – alcohol, erotica, lounge music. Which is why being his friend is so much fun, and being his lover is like putting all my money on the double zero.
Wynne smiles at me from across the room and gives me a thumbs up. It’s not like Tommy is the first player I’ve ever loved – Wynne is 500 times the player that Tommy will ever be. In fact, Tommy just pretends to be a player to hide that he’s a romantic.
Tommy brings me the martini. « Tommy, you know, if we went off somewhere else, Evan wouldn’t feel so obliged to be here, and he could go to the party at Club V/E with Quennel. »
« You’ve got a point, doll-face, » he says. « Where do you want to go? »
I think of his apartment, his tacky apartment filled with skin rags and gardening catalogs. « Let’s get dessert, » I suggest.
We aren’t the only ones to have that idea. Beat and Cord are sitting together in a corner, and it looks pretty intense between them. Tommy nods, like he’s glad to see that Beat is finding someone to keep him occupied while Ailann strings Harsh along, and we smile. It’s relaxed again, a shared confidence, like it used to be.
Until Beat slams his hands on the table. « Tommy! » he shouts, running across the room. « You got the Gold Card! »
« Wow, » says the overawed Cord. « Oh wow. Can I record this moment? »
I’m afraid that my look was so fierce that it might have caused Cord to drop leaves. « I think they might want some privacy, » says Beat. « Let’s go back to your place and make some pornography. »
They quickly take their leave. « I’m seeing a lot of porn come out of Cord’s studio these days. But it might be nice to have some which are more candid, you know, location work. There are a lot of emanations, some quite old, whose bedrooms I’ve never seen. »
« Some of us never go to our residences, » says Tommy. “I know why Lorcan doesn’t use his, but Dermot… »
« What would Dermot have to hide? »
« Dunno, but he never goes there. I don’t even know if he’s seen it himself. It’s a big mystery. But the new guys have houses all the way up in Ophionia. It must be a pain for them. »
The server, another chinstrap, brings our order.
Tommy’s dessert isn’t fancy, just cookies – chocumber-chili with nau’gsh wine jam centers. I’ve had them before, at the big orgy held by Suibhne. I order a plate with some cappuccino. Sitting here, I’m somehow reminded of the old days when I first met Tommy. I’d thought it was an incredibly lucky set of circumstances; of course, I had no idea that Mickey, who had just saved my life, and Tommy, who had taken me in, were two faces of the same entity who had loved me since I had planted his seed in the hard rock of Starbright Point. It was Tommy’s friendship and Mickey’s heroism which kept me sane through that very dark period of my life when I had nothing and trusted no one.
It’s a little-known period of my history. I suppose my advisors see no reason to publicize the fact that I worked as a bartender for three months while I was hiding from CenGov. Tommy would’ve let me stay in the spare room above the bar for free, but I couldn’t stand to impose like that, and it took me a while to figure out how to access my accounts in a way that CenGov couldn’t trace. The truth is that I liked living out of the spotlight – for that short amount of time, at least. I probably learned more about human nature in those three months than the previous decades of my life. For one, I learned that there isn’t as much difference between the aristos and the commercial class as either side likes to think. Tommy was clearly commercial class, but his love for gossip was a common trait of courtiers, and his passion for music reminded me a lot of my cousin Evan.
At the time, it struck me as odd because I couldn’t imagine two men more different than Tommy and Evan, but they shared something I couldn’t pin down. Something that made me feel comfortable and safe, safe enough to accept Tommy’s hospitality ten minutes after he hid me from the search parties. I couldn’t imagine that he’d betray me. He had such kind eyes.
As if on cue, the Ophion Irregulars walk in, high on their victory. « It’s Tara! » exclaims Haight. Instantly they crowd around our table, babbling excitedly, showing no awareness that Tommy and I were having a kind of romantic moment alone together. I haven’t slept with a single one of them, and it strikes me that despite physical appearances ranging from their twenties to their forties, and actual ages of several weeks to, at best, a month and a half, they’re really acting like adolescents.
Thorne pushes one of them forward, a dark man with sparkling eyes and a sexy beard. « I don’t think you’ve ever met Diego. »
Considering that he’s my husband, it’s weird and awkward situation; I lamely extend my hand to shake his. But he’s holding something – a transparent pink object. « What’s that? » I ask.
« It’s a rubi-hypercube with Sudoku numbers on each of the faces, » he says, clearly excited that I’m taking an interest.
« Oh, » I reply nodding, not understanding a single word.
« A tesseract, » Diego explains. « But you not only have to solve the Sudoku in four dimensions, you also have to rotate the faces until the solution is in the proper orientation. I developed it for Thorne. »
« I can’t wait to try it, » Thorne replies. « But of course, if you want to try it first…»
We’re interrupted by Marius followed by cute Alexander and even cuter Dominic. Tommy bends over, whispering something to the penguin as she waddles by.
Dominic is staring at me, which is not an uncommon reaction from a recent emanation, but then he says, « You’ve been genetically altered. »
« Actually, I haven’t. »
« Oh, I mean maybe ten or eleven generations back. There’s an encoded message over a thousand years old, but there’s some modifications a little more recent, maybe eight or nine hundred years. Increases in muscle mass and bone density. It seems like it’s meant to make up for the natural difference in size and strength between the sexes, but the effect has been mitigated over time by the presence of other genes which have been bred naturally into the sequence. »
« Yeah, » says Tommy. « The first time I saw a Volparnian woman, I was shocked. They’re like little dolls. »
« They get bullied, » I reply. « And the way they starve themselves makes it worse. When their husbands hit them, they can’t fight back – or they won’t. But when Merkht hit me, I broke his nose. »
The penguin hands Tommy a bakery box. « The order to go is finally ready, » he says. « Nice seeing you guys, but we’ve got to get back to my clade. »
There’s a decided level of disappointment among the emanations in the café, but I have to admit I’m relieved. « I never thought I’d say this, » I mutter, « But there is a limit to the amount of attractive men one woman can handle. »
« 102, » says Tommy. « According to Tarlach, the average person can process 150-200 reasonably close relationships at once. Apparently, there was a lot of research on that during the initial expansion of social media back in the Exploitation Era. We’re guessing that I and I was figuring that would leave you around 50 friends and close advisors in the political sphere. Tarlach says he’s sure that I and I would like to occupy all the slots, but it would be wise to leave some room for female friendships since you’re not attracted to women. »
« I appreciate that, » I say sarcastically. « Um, Simon isn’t an attempt to change that, is he? »
« Simon is so that you can safely explore a curiosity about gender fluidity. The pleroma really is completed, if that’s what you’re worried about. Davy says there has to be some adjustment, something about having the wrong blues, but that all the components are in place. No more emanations. »
We take the hilift to the 69th floor. « Say, Tommy, what do you make of Thorne? »
« Well, it’s weird. I mean, Davy didn’t make him. He’s a true master of metamorphosis, in complete control of his own shape. »
« That’s interesting, but I meant whether you think he’s a problem. Like a potentially violent problem. »
« I doubt that he could hurt a weevil. Why would you ever think that? »
« Everyone freaked out when they found out he was a florist. I thought that it was a metaphor for killing, or maybe that he’s some kind of butcher. »
« Oh no! It’s just that flowers die. They’re not like branches. Leaves die too, but leaves…they die when they’re worn out, and nobody misses them. It’s like when humans shed old hair or skin. But we’re sorry to see flowers go. Thorne isn’t a butcher, more like a mortician. Even in human culture, the two professions are connected. It’s just a little morbid. »
« We’re talking about the pink unicorn, the guy in a silk bathrobe. Thorne and morbid are not really connecting in my mind. »
This is like old times, like when Tommy was trying to hook me up with Whirljack or Patrick. Yes, that’s exactly what old friend and new love Tommy is to me – a pimp. We arrive at the Strip Club – it figures that Tommy would use it as the theme for his clade. Ari has returned and is sitting at a table with Jonah and Jesse in front of an enormous cake which reads « Solid Gold Tommy! » in flowers made of gold icing.
« Oh good grief, » says Tommy.
The top pops open – as if I didn’t see that coming – revealing Fairchild in a thong, who backflips out and onto the stripper pole. Tommy and I share a knowing look. « We both get a piece of that cake, right? »