"You made getting to know him sound like a challenge that needs to be attempted," Okka replied.
"Huh," said David. "If that's what that sounded like to you? You might have more success than any of the rest of us have had." The corner of his mouth turned up.
"I don't know what I'm going to do with my life," Okka mused. "But I do know that right now, I want him to be part of it."
"I know the feeling," David said, smiling crookedly.
Xe liked xir life. Xir job, Waverly, David, Earth. Xe was undeniably attached. Despite everything that was missing, despite everything Okka would always long to get back, xe also desperately didn't want to lose what xe had here.
Change was inevitable. Mimica knew that better than anyone. But Okka was strangely resistant to change, especially for such an explorer, such a wanderer.
And things were changing, starting with the now mostly healed fola.
The quiet rustling in xir mind grew louder by the day.
Okka wanted to keep the creature with xem forever. Just having a life that was not xemself that xe could share feelings with was more sustaining than xe could express. But, as they said on Earth, birds were not meant to be caged.
The fola was quickly becoming fully healed, and if Okka kept it within xemself, it would grow impatient. If Okka excised that impatience, altered its life to suit xir own needs one too many times, it would cease to be a separate being. It would merely be part of Okka.
Okka would be alone again. Xe would have killed something precious.
It was something that had happened only a few times in the history of Mimica, but those times were remembered, passed on from mind to mind and impressed into every young Mimica. Non-sapient life was so easy to bend to one's will, to consume. Sapient life resisted longer, but they too could disappear into the will of the Mimica.
It was something they all abhorred.
The bag of dry seeds in Okka's bag would sustain the creature for a while. Xe could let it out at home, but fola were social creatures and needed company to be healthy.
If xe left it at home, they would both get terribly lonely.
Okka decided xe could keep it under control for at least one more day.
Okka walked into the office, and right into an argument. David, arms crossed, stood in the open doorway of Waverly's private office.
"Waverly, you agreed to meet with Craig Mepps today. You can't just cancel."
Waverly raised his eyebrows. "I have no memory of that," he said.
"You dropped the memory of an entire phone conversation?" David asked.
"I fielded that call, actually," Toto said, ambling up to the doorway.
David narrowed his eyes at Toto, then transferred the glare back to Waverly. "He swore he spoke to you in person."
Toto's speakers emitted a tone familiar from 2001: A Space Odyssey, which said, "I've been practicing my voice synthesis, Dave."
David jumped, then renewed glaring at Toto. "Gah! You can't do that! The HAL thing, or the impersonating-Waverly-Kemp thing. Neither of those."
"Why not?" Toto asked, back to his usual voiceprint.
"Because of times like these, for one thing!" David was almost shaking with anger. "Waverly has no idea what he apparently said in that phone call!"
Waverly cleared his throat tentatively, then said, "Davy, let's be honest, here. What are the chances I'd remember that call even if I was actually the one to take it?"
David took a breath. "… Okay, slim to none. But it's the principle of the thing!"
"What principle? How many people every day in this country get phone calls from robots pretending to be people? With Toto, it's barely a lie. He is a person!"
Toto spoke up again. "Is a very good approximation of Waverly better than no Waverly at all? Because that was the alternative. But we need communication to keep flowing between Kemp and Apple."
David sighed deeply. "Fine, fine," he said, "but you have to tell me when you do that! I have to know what the chances are he'll actually know his own schedule."
"For what it's worth," Toto said, "I did tell him about the appointment. And you know he listens to me."
"I try," said Waverly. "Is he here yet? Send him up, I guess."
Waverly sat down in the lounge area near Okka's desk, rather than in his office. That and his eloquent eyes practically shouted that he was begging for an interruption.
From what Okka could hear, Mepps droned on about proprietary systems and licensing, making assertions about his company's software. Waverly cringed like it was grossly inaccurate, but he'd been told to play nice.
Just watching made Okka feel restless. The fola picked up on that and joined in enthusiastically.
Time to run. Hunt. Eat. It's day!
The fola popped its head out to scope the surroundings.
Mepps, glancing over at exactly the wrong moment, did a double-take, then blinked at Okka's neck, where the fola had emerged.
"What…" he said, completely sidetracked from what he'd been saying. "That… person has a second head! Like a little… bird… thing head."
Okka quickly distracted the fola with promises of seeds if it stuck its head out somewhere less conspicuous, and it ducked back in just as Mr. Mepps approached.
He looked immensely confused, and he glanced from his coffee cup to Okka, and then to Waverly.
Okka looked at him innocently. "Are you feeling all right?" xe asked.
"I must be more tired than I thought," he answered. "Sorry about this, Waverly," he said, "but I think I have to go. Another time?"
"Sure thing, Craig," Waverly answered.
The relief on Waverly's face made the whole incident very much worth it, but Okka was a little ashamed for enjoying it so much xemself.
*~*~*
Toto got Waverly's attention with a quick motion, and Waverly followed Toto into his office and closed the door.
"What's up?" Waverly asked the robot.
Toto gestured in the direction of the lounge area they had just left. "That was pretty weird, Waverly," he said, voice… confused? Worried?
Waverly chuckled. "Yeah? Well, maybe you just haven't experienced the full range of human weirdness yet."
"With you?" Toto asked. "How likely is that?"
"More than you might think," Waverly answered. "Hey, you really feeling uncomfortable about all that?"
"Decidedly uncomfortable. Does not compute. I didn't see everything Mr. Mepps saw, but I saw something. Something animal, probably. Might also have been a puppet, but I could see both of Okka's hands. Xe didn't have time this morning to set up a prank that elaborate."
"You saw it too?" Waverly asked. "Huh. Thought I'd just lucked out and witnessed Craig Mepps finally becoming aware of his own incoherency." He glanced at Toto. "Well, I'll find out what's up."
"Yeah, that'd be good," said Toto. "If something I don't know about is alive and in this building, I need to up my security protocols. If not, I need to debug my image recognition."
"Solid plan," Waverly agreed.
*~*~*
The curious, piercing look in Waverly's eyes let Okka know that the fola's little stunt hadn't gone completely unnoticed by everyone but Mr. Mepps, as xe'd hoped.
"I'm not saying that Craig Mepps is the soul of sober impartiality or anything," Waverly began, "but I think he saw something. Something real."
"What is it you think he saw?" Okka asked warily.
The mischievous smile that broke across Waverly's face wasn't meant to be reassuring. But it was.
"Okka. Do you have one of those… tiny handbag dogs?" He looked as if he were trying valiantly not to laugh.
"And if I do?" Okka asked.
Waverly widened his eyes a bit, the smile still tugging the corners of his mouth, then shrugged. "Nothing, I guess. You just… you don't seem like the type."
"Oh, and what is the 'type'?" Okka didn't know why it amused Waverly so.
Waverly's face scrunched in acknowledgement and disgust. "You got me," he said.
"That was sexist and dumb." His gaze wandered, finally falling on Toto, and softening. "Anyway, I get needing your pup around."
Toto shifted his head/hand down and to one side, in an expression that somehow managed to look deeply skeptical.
"Anyway, yeah, that's totally allowed," Waverly continued. "You don't have to keep hiding it. Him? Her? Xem? Do dogs have gender?"
"No," Okka replied, as the fola, at least, had no such concept, if it could be said to have any concepts at all. "'It' is fine."
Waverly looked oddly bashful when he said, "Can I, uh… can I meet your dog?"
Obviously Waverly couldn't, so Okka replied with a smirk and an, "Oh, I think it's a little early in our relationship for that."
Waverly lit up and laughed in a light way that was perilously close to a giggle. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked.
"It means," Okka said, thinking of everything xe couldn't say or do or share, "you might have to be patient with me."
Waverly put on a look of sadness that Okka thought was supposed to look feigned, but wasn't, or not entirely. "Oh, but I'm no good at patient," he said. "I'm insatiably curious. And you're a puzzle. I love a puzzle." He smirked.
"You can't solve me, Waverly," Okka said, smiling ruefully. "Puzzles might have solutions. People don't."
"I'd like to try," Waverly said.
"It's not the strategy I'd suggest."
"Are you sure?" Waverly asked. "Could be fun for both of us."
Okka shook xir head. "Doesn't sound appealing," xe lied, but xir mouth quirked at the corner, probably giving the game away.
Waverly smirked. "Oh, you should see me play Portal with only my tongue."
Okka raised an eyebrow. "Anyone can do that now, what with that ingenious controller you designed."
Waverly looked slightly affronted, but the smile never left his face. "That's… impressively backhanded, I like it. Push and pull. An enigma."
"Well, I live to keep you on your toes," xe said dryly. "You're so graceful there."
His expression went warm and soft, and he reached out to cup one of Okka's hands with his own. "You're the most interesting puzzle I've come across in a long time. The kind that changes. The kind that's different every time. The kind I want to keep."
Okka froze at the touch. The distance that remained between their minds reminded Okka that xe couldn't be with Waverly in any way that would truly satisfy xir needs. Xe shouldn't be encouraging this, shouldn't be getting involved. Xe pulled away.
Waverly frowned. "Shit," he said. "Sorry, you said something about not touching."
"I said to be careful about it," Okka reminded him, trying to keep xir voice even. "You were. I just didn't expect it to affect me that much."
"Can you tell me any more about why, so I could do better?"
"Not right now," Okka said stiffly.
Waverly's eyes lingered on xem for a moment longer. Then he visibly shook himself and turned back to his screen. "Hey, so got any ideas on how to deal better with the lag when the signal quality goes down on the tour software?"
Okka latched onto the out xe was given, and they got back to work.
*~*~*
Waverly laid the whole interaction out for David, the next time he came up to Waverly's office.
"This really isn't my business," David said.
"Please help me," Waverly asked.
"I can't."
"Please. Try."
David shook his head. "You won't like what I have to say."
"Please, just tell me anyway. Just tell me. I'll try anything."
David sighed. He contemplated Waverly seriously, then said, "Waverly, sometimes there's not a next thing to try. Sometimes people just need space."
Waverly winced. He made a long, drawn-out, pained noise. Then he peered at David through narrowed eyes. He slumped when David remained unmoved. "Okay, you're right, I don't like it. But I probably needed to hear it. Again. So thank you."
"Waverly. I'm sorry."
Waverly looked away. "Yeah. Well. Maybe time to rethink the 'me having interns' thing entirely, huh?"
"Have you tried maybe just not falling hopelessly in love with us?"
Waverly didn't know what his face was doing, but David, watching him, looked as if he wanted to apologize. Again.
Waverly didn't think he could handle any more of David's kindness right now. So he left.
*~*~*
Waverly changed his behavior radically, after that. Okka noticed that it was much harder to get him engaged in conversation about anything that wasn't work-related—and often, any conversation at all. Laconic comments and dry, professional emails featured prominently in their interactions over the next day or so.
Okka missed the Waverly xe'd come to know, exuberant and impulsive. Xe missed the dancing, and xe missed the light, easy flirting.
If xe was honest with xemself, xe missed the earnest admiration and more serious advances, as well. Xe hadn't pulled away because the idea was off-putting. Very much the opposite, in fact.
But most of all, xe missed seeing Waverly happy. Xe wanted to fix what xe'd done to stop that joy in life from shining out of his face.
Xe cornered him over his circuit boards the next afternoon, when gentle nudging had proven ineffective. "Waverly, talk to me," xe said. "What's wrong?"
His eyes darted away. "Have you seen my favorite soldering iron? I think Toto's hiding it from me."
Okka frowned. "That's not fair."
"I know, right? Give it back, you mechanical mutt!"
"That's not what I'm talking about, Waverly, and you know it."
Waverly didn't answer, which was an answer in itself. A refusal to speak about what was really on his mind. He kept glaring at Toto, who just tilted his mechanical head like a confused puppy might have.
"I'm sorry for what happened," xe said. "I regret pushing you away. I didn't mean for you to go so far."
Waverly flicked a glance at Okka. "That's your right. If you need more space, you need more space."
"Not this kind of space. Not this much. Please," said Okka. "Please tell me."
Waverly looked at xem, and his face scrunched in a flicker of an expression of pain.
"If I try to date another employee—especially right now—I'm pretty sure David's not gonna trust me with any more interns ever again. And that's not even going into the press, if that ever gets out. I know I'm not responsible enough to be a great role model, but I could at least make a go at it now and again."
"Why would you think this is your fault?" Okka asked somewhat bitterly. "I'm running hot and cold on you, I know I am, and I can't tell you why."
Waverly fidgeted with the tool he had in his hand. Then he said, "You know I built a dog who can take care of himself because I was always so bad at the real kind?"
Okka regarded their robot friend. "Toto is more than that."
"He needed to be. He needed to be a nanny and a conscience and a friend. Was always bad at keeping those, too."
"What does it matter? You made yourself a family. You may be out of place in this world, but you are certainly not less."
"No, yeah, I know that,” he said as if he didn't know it, but Okka let that issue go, for the moment.
"Then what is the problem?" xe asked.
Waverly sighed. "I'm good at my own stuff, but that has never been good enough for anyone when it comes to people. Treating them right, keeping them around."
"And you think you're failing me?"
"I think I'm not doing you justice. I think I'm pressuring you the way I pressured David and never realized. I never meant to. He still got hurt."
"How are you pressuring me?"
"I'm your boss. That's bad enough in most people's eyes, but it's not just that." He put on a grimace like he was speaking about something distasteful, or maybe shameful, and then he said, "I have so much money and so much power, and sometimes I ask for what I want and I don't realize how hard it can be to say no to me."
Waverly
's voice creaked with the effort of saying that. There was so much emotion behind it. Despair, yes, but also hope that he could do better. A yearning, and an outright desperation not to fail.
Okka was tired of pushing through Waverly's resistance to talking about serious subjects or questions, but xe knew it was necessary. That resistance was clearly a long-ingrained survival tactic. In the Collective, failures were never hidden. Failures were expected with regularity and accepted when they came.
That wasn't how things were on Earth. That wasn't how things had been on Avla. The part of Okka that was still Myrdu felt the pressure that Waverly must be feeling now. Humanoid life grated at xem. Isolation was wearing xem down.
But despite xir failures, despite xir weaknesses, xe was competent. Xe was strong. "Let me assure you," xe told Waverly, "I'm quite capable of saying no to you."
Waverly pressed his lips together as he regarded Okka. "Is this you saying no?"
There was a long silence.
"This is me saying, any power you might hold over me is not on my list of concerns."
"Give me a ballpark figure. What are the chances of you saying yes?"
Okka looked him in the eye. "I don't know," xe said. "Everything is…" There weren't English words, damn it. The closest Earth word xe could think of was απορητικος, which clearly wouldn't do with Waverly.
Xe took a breath. "What I can tell you is that I want to say yes. Or part of me does."
Waverly held xir gaze, brow furrowed like he was trying to see into xir soul. "What's stopping you?" he asked.
He was right there. So open, now. Waiting to be struck down for the audacity of asking to touch someone. He wasn't hiding anything anymore. Okka felt the draw to connect, to merge, like static in the air, drawing xem forward as if xe was no more substantial than a drift of dust.
The strength of this feeling was off-putting. Or, at least, in contrast to Okka's feeling of weakness, of helplessness against it. But it wasn't pressure. It was απορια—an abundance which was, in a terrible contradiction, a lack of resources as well. An impasse in which there was no way forward, and yet the only way was forward.
It was Okka's nature to explore, to connect. This was who xe was. But xe had always had a buffer of memory and mission between xemself and other beings. What stood in front of xem now was too much. Xir interest in Waverly, and Waverly's mere presence, the offering he made of himself, his willingness to connect in any way he could with Okka. Xir own awareness of all the ways to connect which were beyond their capacity right now.
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