Starlit Eyes
A future tale of LGBTQ/Lynxid dys/utopia
Autocratic Date (AD) 2031, year 2 of the Lynxid Enlightenment (LE). Interior of a military facility control room buried in the Rocky Mountains of what was still called the United States of America. Although there was no longer anything state-like or united about them.
I twitched a brow to scramble my screen and turned, facing his threat.
“You asked, in a condescending tone, I might add, what made me think I could find information you couldn’t? How would I ever find anything useful on Google?”
Arms folded, snarl splashed with the LED glow covering his once square-jawed, recruiting poster face; Colonel Rogers intended to deny his promise, welsh on the bet for my freedom. I saw it.
I derailed his next speech. “Your ignorance of Google Scholar doesn’t make me an extinct dinosaur. Use it while we’ve got it. War games won’t feed us. We need to put survival data into physical form until we decide what technology we’ll keep.”
His blue eyes bulged within wrinkled white sockets — a heart attack waiting to happen. His fists balled. He took a step forward, aggression riding every line of his body. “The President will have this country back up and running in no time. Touch the computers again — I’ll throw you in the brig. Stay in the kitchen, you old harpy — ” His voice disappeared under the coughing fits erupting around the room. Young people tensed at their screens.
Major Sauder slid between us, hip blocking me into the chair. The old fossil’s eyes locked on the major’s chest, which appeared more female with each breath. I was impressed.
The lieutenant at the next com station gently pried the sharp scissors out of my hand. I shot them a disgusted look. They returned a sweet smile, placing a kiss on the back of my hand. I admired the contrast between our dark and light skin colors.
“Get out!” the colonel barked.
I muttered a low hiss. The louey’s smile expanded, filling their eyes with the swirl of rainbow transition shimmers. At the colonel’s roar, the youngster’s lips crinkled, containing laughter.
I could feel the starlight of my eyes respond in kind. With a wink, they turned to their screen, playing at absorption in the faux battle.
The major spoke with apparent deference. “I’ll have to check the regs, Sir. I don’t think you can throw her in the brig. She’s a civilian.”
“Sir, she’s not a government employee. She’s the only one here who knows how to cook, clean, grow and preserve food and make clothing. Since the robots shut down, she’s an invaluable teacher and resource.”
“This invaluable resource is about to walk out the door,” I said. “I won that bet. I’m taking my winnings out of here.”
The colonel’s liquor rimmed eyes flattened to a slit under his electro-shocked white brows and bony polished scalp. “You’ll take only your freedom and enough supplies to make the next outpost. We’ll keep those children you’re so concerned about, for their protection, of course.” His sneer was pure movie villain.
I couldn’t stand his sexist abuse one more second. “The major will keep them safe,” I said, swallowing.
It would hurt like the very devil to leave them. Marvel and I gathered them one-by-one from remnants of towns and suburbs, schools and farms. They were all who remained sane outside the military outposts. They would be safer here than outside with me. I’d be lucky if I could feed myself and avoid those older adults who failed transition. Evolution is wasteful.
The colonel looked even more offended — and offensive — his mind not flexible enough to begin the evolutionary leap to human+.
“Then there’s that damned monster of a cat. It eats more of my meat than a human. If you all refuse to hunt, I’ll make steaks of it. Even if everyone here seems to be turning into pansy-assed vegetarians.”
Hairs rose all over my body; my words bristled with wire.
“Touch Marvel, and you won’t live long enough to eat any meat. All of us, including Marvel, are vegan, not vegetarian. No one eats “your” meat.”
My truth concealed the fact that if I have my way — he won’t either.
“Colonel Rogers doesn’t have the authority to harm your friend, although she is, technically, government property. He’d have to obtain permission from the DOD to terminate her line. That directive comes from DOD Bulletin — ”
“Major, you’re overstepping.”
“Sorry, sir,” Sauder replied, snapping to attention. “Just trying to protect you from the consequences you’d face from your superiors.”
“Consequences?”
“Sir, only direct Presidential order can authorize termination of any sentient Lynxid of lines A through D. Marvel is the founding parent of Line A. You’d face charges of treason and summary execution which I would be required to enact.”
“I would?” He spoke in the tones of a querulous ancient. “I should lie down. Carry on, major.” He marched away as though I’d never existed.
The major crossed their arms, giving me a stern look. Their chest deflated on a sigh while their complexion darkened to bronze. “Will I have to taste the colonel’s food? We need him to keep the barracudas at bay until we’re self-sustaining and Marvel’s young can leave us to continue their evolution as catalysts.”
I smiled, sheepish, and shook my head. “What pronouns are you using today?”
“Female. It’s Selene for today, but I’ll answer to whatever you call me. If s/he wants, we can arrange for Marvel to ‘escape’ with you to fool ‘himself.’ Would you leave us…, and the children?”
Her distress plain, her eyes so shadowed, it was impossible to see their starlit colors.
“We certainly want your help. You know you’re one of us, whether or not you ever complete transition. You also know that we won’t bind each other in the old ways. Freedom is our verb. What pronouns for you today?”
“‘They’ is growing on me; doubt that I’ll ever stop answering to ‘she.’ I grew up in a world where his orders and threats bound me in ways I hope you need never imagine.”
Selene opened her arms for a hug. I curled into her. In moments we were surrounded by the entire crew, one breathing, warm beast, with many linked minds. I felt a momentary pang. Maybe they’ll rub off on me. My mind might yet flex enough to allow me to join the linkage. Shifting my physical gender and skin color would be fun. But, I’d love closer communication with Marvel, these fully transitioned young adults and the children who were born within the starlight’s gleam.
“We’ll insulate you from him. He still can’t tell when we switch ranks, colors, names and genders. You can get back to perfecting that faux meat recipe. We may need to sedate him in his room until we can create real-seeming steaks, roasts and enough bacon to pacify him. We don’t want anyone’s old baggage triggered, especially Marvel’s. The colonel can’t grasp that s/he chooses to eat vegan for spiritual reasons. According to Marvel, Lynxids can eat anything, including colonels. S/he thinks he’d taste bad.”
I gazed around the group, met the starlit gaze of each of my people. Exquisitely framed by the many colors of their skin, the rainbow constellations within their eyes answered mine.
The End
