Some Desperate Glory

by Emily Tesh

ὡς τρὶς ἂν παρ᾽ ἀσπίδα στῆναι θέλοιμ᾽ ἂν μᾶλλον ἢ τεκεῖν ἅπαξ. I would rather stand three times in the battle line than give birth to one child. —Euripides, Medea

While Earth’s children live, the enemy shall fear us.

There was an ancient photograph of Kyr’s genetic mother in a frame on the desk, a big smiling blond woman with her name written in the corner: Elora.

He was a leader of humanity, a hero, a great man. She despised him.

bitter sharp-tongued friendless little queer

me

Kyr finally realized she was being manipulated and refused to give away any more information, so Avi told him.

“But while we live—” “—the enemy shall fear us?” Ursa shook her head. “Or maybe, while we live, we’re alive, and that’s all.”

For a moment she had a vision of herself not as the strong soldier of humanity she had always known herself to be, but as a tiny scrap of life clinging blindly to an impossible vertical, with safety too far above and an immeasurable fall below.

Once upon a time, there were some people who were very unhappy and wicked, said Yiso. This confused them, because they believed themselves to be good people.

Her thoughts tottered on the edge of a realization she did not want to have.

“I am nearly ten thousand years old,” said the majo. “For all that time I have served the purposes of wisdom. You are quite young, and not very frightening.”

The actual operation of power in Magna Terra is best described as a militarized technocratic oligarchy with elements of authoritarian populism: or, as one human historian puts it, a dreadful international compromise that pleases no one.

None of this is real. All of this is real.

In her dreams she had friends anddates :((((((((

I still have to call Lisa, she thought, and felt a sharp tender ache in her chest. Lisabel was here. Kyr had taken her out to dinner, and they’d said nice stupid things to each other, and they’d—they’d kissed. Kyr had never even thought of kissing Lisabel. She did not know how she had managed not to think of it. She put her hand over her mouth. She was trying not to laugh, or scream. Mags in Raingold, blurting I’m queer at Kyr like he was expecting to be slapped.

“Valkyr,” said Cleo caressingly, “you are so fucking obtuse.”

I don’t know, what’s the use if everything just ends up shitty no matter what you do? Maybe there’s no point.

“Yes, of course, of course I’d do it again. I’m not going to stop.”

A peace brought about with the threat of violence is only a war in waiting.

Yiso’s expression cleared. “Valkyr,” they said. “Of course it’s you.” “Right, of course,” Kyr said, and started walking them out of the cell. Something in her chest was warm.

I would rather stand three times in the battle line than give birth to one child,

Gaea had planted its seeds in all of them. They were in Kyr too, she knew they were, putting out shoots that coiled through her the same way Val’s total self-belief and her smugness were twisted through everything she’d ever thought or done. Just because Kyr was looking for it now didn’t mean she’d find it every time. Just because she knew where she’d come from and what she was didn’t mean she was safe from it.

Yiso said, “You wanted to know what it was like to be a Prince of the Wisdom.” They folded their arms, an oddly human gesture. “You did not need to ask me. You have been the arbiter of the worlds. Did it satisfy you?” “No,” Avi said. He laughed again, horribly. “No.”

“I thought I could get out,” he said in the end. “I thought I would one day. I was just waiting for the chance. I thought—but I never did. I never got out. I couldn’t leave Gaea Station. I tried, and I just took it with me. And it killed him.”

“Gaea didn’t make the choices,” Kyr said. “Not all of them. It was you. And me.” She had to stop and catch her breath. “I think it was me as well.”

“Sleep well?” Kyr repeated. Suddenly, weirdly, she was trying not to smile. Avi looked relieved. “On second thoughts, fuck off and die.”