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Yes, I am a Star Wars geek. How'd you know?
Oh, and I got new eggs. A Dino egg
and a paper one.
It was a very nice day. After that terrible storm yesterday, the air seemed fresh and cool; the sun shone as if defensive about the day before. Anj made it to the rendezvous point, not far out of the evacuated zone, without incident. He waited.
He could wait for hours, if need be, at rest, equally poised to move or hold position. But he wasn’t left standing for too long. From the curb where he stood, there was a very good view of the road. He saw Valerie’s little blue two-seater car and the baseball-shaped antenna-topper well before it got into the empty lot. Recognizing it caused a little lurch in his stomach, and Anj realized that he was feeling anxious.
It was stupid to feel nervous. More than once he’d been called to pitch in when a fight was threatening. Twice when creatures had escaped from the Twin Hills facility he had volunteered to roam in teams looking, even though he’d been aware that a manticore could take him down easily, forcepike or no. Training might account for that near-fearlessness, and maybe it was why he didn’t really have trouble talking to people, either.
Anj wasn’t one of Xanadu’s public relations people – he had the right look, yes, but he tended to garble longer statements, and now and again an Imperial streak showed up that made people nervous. There was also the fact that, as a Red Guard, he had a bit of an aversion to drawing attention to himself. Still, he’d said a few things on camera, both live and for recordings, and he had been delivering oral reports since evening of that day. In fact, he had only just walked out of one. He had no trouble with that sort of thing.
And this wasn’t someone he didn’t know, someone suspicious and more than a little afraid of him. Valerie was the one member of his family that he felt closest to. She’d always thought that he was a little weird, but they’d been sisters. And friends. She’d been a little uneasy over the phone, but she _had_ agreed to come, after all. Maybe it would have been better to wait a few more days - It was, by far, too late for second thoughts, but Anj was having them anyway.
There had been no trouble coordinating this meet, right up until that last call that he’d picked up on the way here, when she estimated that it would take fifteen minutes to arrive. Waiting for her to get here had twisted his stomach a little. He’d felt both as if it was taking much, much longer than it should have, and as if the time was slipping past faster than thought. As she pulled in and parked he checked his new watch, a thick-banded sporty type, waterproof and digital, and easy to read since it didn’t have Arabic numerals. Despite himself, Anj smiled. “Right on time.”
The door closed and Valerie stepped slowly around to the curb, clearly studying him as if comparing his face to the one in the picture he’d emailed. Anj looked back in turn. She wore blue jeans and a pale blouse with a collar; her chin-length dirty blond hair was wavy and tousled. Like the majority of Kincaids, she was round-faced, on the short side, and thickset, even stocky, rather than lean and wiry as Anj was. They looked nothing alike now, but when Anj had been Angela the resemblance had been almost uncanny. Her eyes flicked down to the Imperial emblem on his shoulder, then back up.
_Oh no. Please, no._ He knew that expression, what it meant. It was in the way her mouth was just slightly open, the way she ran her tongue over her teeth. That _speculation_ that he’d seen a time or two before. _No, no, no, no!_
Anj had met one or two women here and there who had hinted that they found him attractive, but he’d pretended to be blind to it. Neither of them had done more than hint; he’d found himself grateful for that stupid societal custom that preferred the man to make the first move. He wasn’t ready for all that yet. Emperor’s bones, he wasn’t entirely used to being the _man_ yet!
“How was the drive?” Maybe if he was casual enough, banal even, she’d lose interest. He had to hope. Romance made him nervous, but he’d get to it – incest, on the other hand, was to be avoided at all costs. Hopefully he’d misread it.
Valerie pursed her lips. “Four hours in traffic. I pity the guys who are out trying to fix damage to the roads – we got buzzed by a pair of flyers on the way. It was a mess.” She’d mentioned that during the last call.
Anj said pretty much the same thing that he’d said then. “Yeah. Not much we can do about those two, though. I mean, they’re inclined to cooperate, and generally limit themselves to ‘mischief.’ They don’t understand that they really aren’t harmless, but trying to contain them now, when there are bigger problems about…” He stopped himself and winced. _Me and my loose tongue. I’m going to have to watch myself – family or not, there are things she’s just better off not knowing._
She stopped a little more than a meter away, shifting her posture a little as if uncertain. “I, um, got you that stuff you asked for – uh…” _I can’t believe that I’m hoping that it’s just fear._ Anj _hated_ it when women were afraid of him out of uniform.
“Excellent.” He came around to the back of her car and, glancing at her for permission, popped the trunk. “And hey, I told you, it’s Anj. Remember when we were kids, Val? You couldn’t pronounce ‘Angela’ or even ‘Angie’. It works.” _Remind her that we grew up together and both had nicknames. That might work._
Unzipping one of the bags at random and seeing its contents, he saw something he’d tried to forget after middle school. Seized with inspiration, Anj palmed a particular item and turned towards his sister, stretching it out in front of him. One of the best things about having a ridiculously expressive face was the fact that he could now do “quizzical” quite well. “Honestly, Val. Do you really think this still fits?”
Valerie Kincaid looked from his face to the polka-dot dress with the pleated skirt and, just as Anj had hoped, burst out laughing.
“I’m pretty sure that I couldn’t get into this. And if I did, would it make me look fat? I _have_ gained weight, you know.” Anj let his eyebrow drop and smiled as Valerie leaned against the car, shoulders shaking. Hopefully she’d decided not to be attracted to him.
Giving the dress another look, he said, “I know I _said_ everything, and you _did_ ask if I meant ‘everything everything’. Um. Well, next time someone gives an oral report they can take these to donate. There’s sort of a communal pile over there at Xanadu. Not a lot of people brought more than a couple changes of clothes, and stuff that doesn’t fit anymore goes to someone else. It works okay. That’s how I got this,” he said, glancing down at his zipped-up sweater and slightly oversized cargo pants, held up by a belt. Not entirely professional, but he was off duty now – and these clothes didn’t really restrict his movements much more than the robes. They were also nearly as good at concealing weaponry. “I’m really lucky one of my new, uh, friends used to wear this exact shoe size.”
As he started refolding the dress into a mathematically perfect rectangle, Valerie recovered enough to ask, “Don’t clothes just change if they don’t fit? I heard something about that on the radio yesterday.”
“The ‘Clothing Curse’. It’s a little more complicated than that.” Finishing, Anj slipped the rectangle back into the bag it had come from, zipped it up, and started to rearrange the luggage so that it wouldn’t slide about. “Some people just can’t wear certain kinds of clothes, literally. Sometimes it changes just enough to fit, sometimes it gets pretty outrageous, sometimes it dissolves or falls off or whatever. And some people have it, others don’t.” The main pieces – duffel bags, a backpack, rolling luggage – were placed to his satisfaction. Collectively, they contained everything he owned, just about. Much of it was things he no longer saw a need for, but he’d wanted to decide for himself what was worth keeping.
The Red Guard started folding the loose towels and cloths he’d found in the trunk. Valerie kept her car clean, at least in comparison to the filthy horror he’d found in _his_ car. Of course, he hadn’t seen it until the day after the windows were broken, after the things that had taken up residence in there had been rousted…
“Me, I’ve got a little bit,” he continued, a little rueful as he realized that he was _explaining things_ again. He’d found recently that he really enjoyed doing it. Maybe he’d make a good teacher someday. The thought gave him a little, unexpected thrill. “Logos and insignia turn into the Imperial symbol, my unit patch, and my designation; that, or the text turns into Aurebesh. There are a couple of other really minor adjustments, but color and style stay the same. And if it doesn’t fit, it _continues_ to not fit.”
Determined not to pay attention to lint or little bits of detritus, Anj closed the trunk firmly and turned again to his sister. “You still want to go? I can get a ride back to the Outpost on my own. I’m stronger than I look, I can carry all this. You don’t need to drive me if you don’t want to.”
“You’ve already asked me that. Several times,” Valerie said, climbing into the driver’s seat. “At the least, I can’t leave all this stuff with you. Some of these bags are mine, you know.”
Anj took shotgun and raised one eyebrow. Another good thing about his face: he could raise either eyebrow independently. And whistle. And do that curling tongue thing that Tony had shown him so many times. “Why couldn’t you just put all the clothing into a trash bag? I don’t have _that_ many clothes, and it’s not like there’s any shortage.”
His sister sighed. “Actually, there is. You’d be surprised at what is or isn’t available recently. Some nut bought out or stole all the trashbags in the county, and it’s a small enough item that getting new ones isn’t a big priority, not when some places have trouble stocking the basics. I’ve been told to pick some up while I’m here. Dad thinks it could be years before the economy settles.” Glancing quickly into his eyes and away, Valerie clicked her seatbelt and adjusted the strap. “I don’t want to pretend that nothing’s happened, Ang- Anj.”
“That would be kind of hard to pull off,” Anj said wryly, following suit and then rolling his eyes. “Ugh. I just noticed that if my back is straight my hair brushes the ceiling. Val, your car is _tiny_.”
“It is _not_. It’s an economy.” She frowned. “And it’s not just that it’s hard to ignore. You’re being thick on purpose. You do know that Auntie’s threatened to disown you, right? That Dad really doesn’t want anything to do with you? I had to talk him around to giving you five minutes on the phone, and even _I_ heard how stilted he was.”
They pulled away, the tires of Valerie’s car shrilling on the asphalt as they always had when forced to turn at low speeds. Anj moistened his lips. “I did hear about that,” he said after a pause. “Auntie’s always been a little old-fashioned. And Dad – well, Dad was a hippie. Don’t look at me like that, Val. You’ve seen the photo album too. Some of that sticks around, long after all the trappings are gone.” He adjusted the shoulder strap and turned a wary eye on a damaged truck that was perilously close to tailgating.
His sister’s eyes were fixed on the road. “Bellbottoms, tie-dye shirt, long hair, and smoking something that I don’t think was a cigar. I guess he was. But I don’t really see why-“
“Take away all that sludge about drugs and free love, and counterculture is about resisting a culture or a government or whatever that’s become huge and corrupt, and tries to control the lives of the people.” Anj smiled crookedly. He’d had some time to think about this, and some people to talk to about it. “I’m Imperial, Val. I don’t know if you remember what I thought about politics before.”
“I seem to remember something about it making you sick,” Valerie said, a little slowly.
“Heh. I was pretty apathetic, sure. Now… oh, hey!” Half leaning over his sister, he pointed. “There’s a McDonalds up there that’s still open, no line!”
“What? Are you insane?” Still, she obliged, braking hard and turning in at a sharp enough angle to press their bodies into the seatbelts. The truck behind them beeped its horn in passing, easily heard over Valerie’s tires.
“No, seriously. There’s no line at the drive through window. Don’t worry, I picked up a little money. U.S. dollars, even. I couldn’t stay at Base to eat this time, had to get by on some of my energy rations for lunch. That stuff is more dangerous than a blaster.” Catching her blank look, he added, “They just taste weird and have an awful texture. It’s like eating cardboard that was marinated in banana ketchup. I think you could build houses out of them; they keep _forever._”
The speaker besides the menu emitted the same bored, semicomprehensible question that all fast food workers memorize.
“Uh, I’ll have the Big Mac Combo, hold the tomato and the mustard, with a Doctor Pepper, ma’am,” he said in the requisite extra-articulate stage voice, accidentally slipping an honorific at the end of the request instead of a ‘please’. In a more normal tone, he said, “You want anything? I can cover.”
No Kincaid refused free food. It was practically the family motto. “Get me a fruit and yogurt parfait, please. Small.” Anj fished a few dollars out of a pants pocket and turned them over at the window. While they waited, Valerie frowned. “What did you mean earlier? About counterculture and politics?”
“Right. Well, I’m Imperial.” Anj laid his forearm out on the car’s retracted window, letting his hand hang on the outside. “That means a lot of things, but basically I’m very pro-government. I think that the state should have the power to step in and solve problems without a lot of bureaucratic nonsense, in essence. Power to the state, which is servant to the people, that kind of thing. I haven’t worked it all out yet, but I’m really big on strength, and order, and control.”
Valerie glanced over at him, then back at the steering wheel. “I see. Absolute power corrupts absolutely? Power falling into evil hands?”
Anj realized that he was jigging his leg in place like a restless schoolboy. He made himself stop – he could sit still for a while, surely. “I didn’t say it was perfect. Just that it appeals to me. Power doesn’t cause corruption by itself, it amplifies what’s already there. And ideally, there would be enough checks and balances to prevent major abuse of the system. I could go on… anyway, the point is that Dad, as a former hippie, is uneasy about The Man. And I am, in a sense, an agent of The Man. It’s not exactly a secret that I’m Imperial. He’ll come around. Eventually,” he added in an undertone.
“Doesn’t it bother you? He’s your father too,” Valerie asked quietly. The fast-food restaurant was not living up to the ‘fast’ part, but that wasn’t unusual, lately – the closer to Xanadu, the more rattled the employees were, it seemed, and this particular establishment was barely two miles away. Outside of the official evacuated zone, yes, but most people and businesses here had decided that this was too close, packed up, and relocated.
“It does.” Anj drummed his fingertips against the car’s exterior. “It really does. But, you know what? I’m an adult, Val. I was an adult before this, and I’m a few years younger now, but I’m not a cadet. Dad hasn’t been my big authority figure for years, and it’s not like _he’s_ disowned me. He’ll get used to this. It’s not like it’s happened to _him,_” he said, a little bitterly.
His sister waited for a moment before, almost under her breath, asking, “What’s it like?” She was quiet enough that he could, possibly, have pretended not to hear. But ignoring a question like that, one whose answer wouldn’t do any harm and might do some good, just wasn’t professional. Fortunately that was when the harried employee finally produced the food, and between getting it and pulling back into traffic Anj had a moment to think. A moment to decide on a reply. Now that he had the chance, he realized that he hadn’t exactly articulated any of it before.
“Complicated,” he started a few moments later. “It’s very complicated. I don’t know what’s due to losing an X chromosome and what’s Imperial. I have – I have all kinds of strong opinions now about politics and the military and all these other things, I eat a lot more – yes, Val, it _is_ possible to eat more – it’s now pretty much impossible for me to be a couch potato.” He paused, trying to assemble his thoughts.
“It’s harder to refuse a challenge. If my superiors give me an order, I _do_ it, and it pretty much goes from my ears to my muscles with barely any pause in my brain. I love to explain things, and you wouldn’t believe how good it feels to show someone how to do something. I get really paranoid at night, especially if there’s no one to guard my back when I sleep. I’m not alone in any of it, and for that I thank the E- I thank the Light Side.” Hesitating for a moment, Anj added, “And this is as trivial as it gets, but my hands and feet are _huge_. Seriously, look at these,” he said, holding up his left hand.
It was somewhat larger than his sister’s and had large knuckles and long fingers that were the same width at the base as they were at the tips. It was marked with calluses and tiny, long-healed scars. In all respects, however, it was a perfectly normal hand – entirely human and organic. Compared to what had happened to _some_ people, it was essentially nothing, so he’d always felt it was in bad taste to complain. Unprofessional. Valerie barely gave it a glance before returning to the road.
Her mouth twitched. “Well, you know what they say about men with big feet.”
“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” Anj said immediately, frowning loftily. Valerie smirked, then laughed and visibly relaxed, and he realized that he hadn’t seen that lingering bit of uneasiness until it was gone.
“Yeah, that’s you, Anj. Remember? That’s exactly what you said after you got treated for that yea-“
“How is _that_ forgetting the issue? That’s supposed to never come up again.” Anj lowered his voice. “You know, like how even when you were _twelve_ you still-“
“Hey, hey! Let’s not get personal.” Even as her cheeks reddened, Valerie kept grinning like a loon. “I’m allowed to bring up embarrassing things in private. Little sister’s prerogative.”
“Hmph.” Secretly he was pleased at the ‘little sister’ part. So many other people from Xanadu, in and out of the 501st, had cut themselves off from their families, content with a single phone call at most. Not that he blamed them, and that seemed to be what had happened with Dad and his Auntie. They’d come around, or they wouldn’t. Valerie had identified herself as his sister. For now, that was enough. It hadn’t been very long.
A thought dawned on him. “I don’t think you can call yourself the _little_ sib, Val. You’re older than I am now – I’m twenty-four.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Really? Huh. Okay. My prerogative’s the same. Hey, aren’t you going to eat that? I’m driving, but there’s nothing stopping you.”
“I’ll wait,” he said serenely. It would be rude and insensitive to enjoy food in the presence of the various people who couldn’t. Everyone associated with the Outpost knew it and tried to be fairly discreet about eating and drinking. That didn’t mean anyone who dared couldn’t openly carry a meal past any one of them – yes, he could be written up for insubordination and two or more of them could probably have him killed with little effort, but they wouldn’t. Half the Outpost was pretty much competing to see how much they could press that unwritten rule.
Neither Valerie nor her brother spoke as they left city limits. There wasn’t much in the way of suburbia on this side of
