Memories are like a mirror, a way for you to examihe mask you wear day by day. Yet, they are ever sile, to the point even a light brush cause them to shatter.

  It takes far more effort to piece them back together than many have the luxury of sparing.

  Shadowtag, 2055

  ***

  I sheepishly grin, then tap my hammer on the floor twice, a puff of pis floating up with each impact. I clear my throat, then fmboyantly start:

  “e one, e all, gather round to hear the grand story of how the mighty Emmelyn Seras came to be but a simple maid!”

  I take a moment to let the air still, then pull up one of my most vivid memories. That night everything ged, the night that our life was flipped upside down. I begin to speak, describing the bd white film within my mind.

  We start somewhere I’m sure you’ve been at least once, Prism, the First Floor.

  Back when I was, uh, basically just a little kid, it was essentially the exact same as it is notirely too focused on its position in the reef. Every inch of the floor is meticulously shined by workers, kept in tip-top shape for the various visiting corpos who want to get their grubby fingers into the flotil. Our apartment was he top of one of the subses, with a big-ass window that let us look down on the rest of our isoted world.

  I was cradled in my mothers p as she watched some old sit, giggling away at jokes I probably wouldn’t uand even if I watched it now. She was like a queen then, her hair rather simir to mine is now, dressed in a half unzipped party-dress, which she hadn’t bothered to take off after she abandoned some formal event before it really started, to be with me when my nannie bailed on us. It was then that I abruptly asked, g all emotion in my tone:

  “Mom, why did you choose Father?”

  Mom immediately paused her show, shifting to look down at me with a sad smile. “It really wasn’t something I had a choi, Emme. Why do you ask?”

  I didn’t eveate. “Well, he’s always spending time with Miss Renee and not with us, so I was just curious.”

  Abruptly, the mermaid oher end of the call clears her throat, and I stop my narration.

  [“I-I’m sorry for interrupting, Emme,”] Prism quietly mutters, [“I just, I thought we were learning why you were a maid, why are we starting from, here, exactly?”]

  “Weeeell. It’s sorta important to things that happen ter.” I chuckle as I rub the bay neck. “I skip to the part if you want though, we’ve basically already hit the important part”

  [“Being your dad was cheating on your mom?”]

  “Well, kinda but not really. It’s a little bit more plicated than that.” I blow a raspberry as I take a moment to try to figure out a way to expin it fast. I utterly fail in my attempt. “Scratch that, a lot more fug plicated. I guess in the end the lesson is that polycules easily devolve into an utter mess, Prism.”

  [“I thought polycules were illegal here?”]

  “They are.”

  [“Ah.”] Prism pauses for a moment, pting. [“S-Sorry for messing up your flow, please tinue, p–preferably a bit more into the future .”]

  “As you wish, Princess.” I grin as the girl sputters oher end of the call, swinging my hammer around me a bit as I resume my story.

  Okay, let’s jump ahead a bit. A year after that, we were basically homeless on the sed floor. Dad had cut his hair the day after we had that versation about father, and he had attempted to keep it as short as possible, but the previous few months had been really rough on him, so his hair had grown out to near his shoulders.

  I dunno if you’ve ever actually been to the sed floor, but it’s far more… neonpunk then any of the others I have visited. It’s like they took the dystopian image of the future from bderunner far too literally, but instead of awesome bio-androids they get all huffy about immigrants. Actually, I guess it’s sorta the same deal if you look at it from a distance, just a lot more unfortably real when it actually happens in front of you.

  Uh, I guess that’s sort of an unimportant ta, let me get back to the point of even talking about this.

  We were ed up in a b on the side of the street when an older man walked up to us, obviously drunk out of his mind. I was a bit scared, but Dad seemed to have bee rather numb to everything at that point. The man stumbled, taking a chug out of his drink before he plopped down on the grouo us, giving a crooked grin as he looked me in the eyes and slurred:

  “Aren’t you a pretty little one? I wanted a daughter like you once, y’know.”

  I hiccuped, a little terrified at what that e, but Dad’s retort to that ent was both instant and ued.

  “I’m a man right now, you geezer.”

  “Eh?” The drunk man shakily turo Dad, narrowing his eyes. “Oh, sorry, shoulda' said son.”

  Dad pushed the man’s face away as he pined, “Your breath smells like alcohol, if you wanna talk, speak while fag away from us.”

  “Darn kids.” Despite his words, the man plied, turning his batirely to us. “Look okay, I might seem drunk…”

  Dad s that one. “You mean, you are drunk.”

  “Fine, whatever you say d, but I came over with an actual purpose.” The man takes a swig from the bottle in his hand before he tinues. “I actually am in dire need of help for my business, essentially by… an ho. You seem like you need work, you in?”

  Dad narrowed his eyes before quietly asking, “It’s not to be a Joytht?”

  The old man turned around, a genuine look of hurt on his face. “I’m no goddamn pimp! I’m a dredgebeller!”

  After a deep, deep sigh, the man shakily stood up, then offered dad a hand. “I’m Geie. Do you want the job or not, d?”

  Dad bit his lower lip, then nodded and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. We immediately set off to the Fourth Floor, which was our home ever since. Eventually Mom met Pop, and I suddenly had two parents again. It was when she regnant with my younger sibling that I met her.

  [“Wait, I’m a bit fused,”] Prism cutely murmurs, [“I thought your Mom became your Dad, but now they are a uh, Mom again?”]

  I blink twice, then find myself giggling a bit before I say, “Ah, I see where the fusion is, you missed the part where they realized they were genderfluid. Mom is Dad, and Dad is Mom.”

  [“This is making my head spin.”]

  “You get used to it.”

  Prism sighs, then asks, [“So, who is this ominous ‘Her’ you met?”]

  “My… ex-girlfriend. Freesia.”

  [“Oh.”] For a moment, Prism is entirely silent, which makes me a bit anxious, at least before she stutters out, [“S-Sorry, you tinue your story.”]

  I only mao put out a, “It’s all good, don’t worry.”, but it’s maybe more for myself thehis part is going to be a bit hard to talk about without gettiional.

  This was… fifteen years ago, so it was Twenty Forty-One.

  Now, eleven year old Emmelyn wasly a normal kid. No offeo Mom, but they werely the pinnacle of parenting, even though they basically sacrificed their cushy life for me, so I didn’t really have the support I needed for the issues I had.

  To be blunt, my emotions were all fucked up.

  Even back at that first memory I shared, I didn’t really experieion like other people did. I could feel them, but they were dull, hazy, in a way that made their impact so little they might as well have ed. In hindsight, I think I iently put a mask on to stay strong for Mom, but I didn’t know how to take it off at that point.

  Now, it retty slow day, though like I said earlier, I was alone iation sin was in the hospital giving birth to my sister. I wasn’t really excited or anything, mostly numb ying with my head in my arms at the station's ter while listening to Pop’s old MP3 pyer. I was half asleep when the song ged, but that’s not what shook me out of my drowsiness. It was the siingly alluring voice almost whispering into my ear that did that.

  “Hey, uh, you’re Reagan’s new kid right?”

  I half opened one of my eyes as I uhusiastically moaned out, “Yeah,” but when I saas actually talking to me, I immediately jolted up. Now, I didn’t have a cept of attra back then, but looking ba it, I definitely was a bit enthralled by her at first gnce. She was everything I wasn’t with her curly dark hair, ebony skin, and brown eyes, and though I could tell she was a bit older than me, she still had that glint of innoce kids have in her eyes.

  I actually… I don’t really remember how the versatio after that, despite my rather vivid memory of the day iion. I think I was just lost in her wake, whided up with her ving me to ‘take a break’ from the station to go watch a movie with her. I holy don’t know how she found out I liked musicals so much, but she defiook advantage of it.

  She led me to a little abandoned apartment she had cimed as a hideout, where she put on Wicked, which immediately had me enthralled. I hadn’t seeher the Broadrodu or the movie adaptation for the story yet, so I was basically hooked from the outset. Unfortunately for me then, I caught sight of the time halfway through and had to rush off to get back to the station, but not before she vinced me to e back the day.

  I got seriously chewed out foing missing for an hour, but my mind was entirely elsewhere at that point. Freesia was my first, and well, only friend on the Fourth while I was there, and I was pletely totally lost. She had me around her pinky finger from the moment I met her, and looking ba it now, she probably set it up like that on purpose.

  Ha. I was maniputed from the start.

  I bite my tongue, holding back the rising tears.. Nobody on the call says anything, but I know they probably uand how difficult this is for me to talk about from the tone of my voice. I ch my fist as I ruefully chuckle to myself.

  “What the hell am I even doing? I haven’t talked about this with anyone, let alone my family, yet here I am, spouting off about the most vulnerable moments of my life to three people I have only known for barely hours.”

  [“Emme…”]

  I put my hand on my forehead, a tradictory smile stretg ay face. “I’m actually fug insane, aren’t I? I mean, I’m not going to stop here, not now that you already know how it started.”

  I take a deep, deep breath, wordlessly putting my mask ba. I think I’m going to .

  [“A-Are you sure you want to-”]

  “Sorry about that, and yes, I do.”

  Now, about four years ter, a few weeks after her sixteenth birthday, we were in the apartment zing around when she suddenly reended we watch West Side Story. Now, for text, I had never watched it before then, mostly because Mom had always pined about how b it was, so I never actually took the time.

  With Freesia beside me, it didn’t really seem like too much of a hassle.

  Admittedly, Mom is pretty much right about that musical, it kinda put me to sleep, at least, that is until ‘Somewhere’ began to py. It struck a chord with me unlike anything I had heard before, maybe I’m just sappy like that. The words of going together with someoo find a pce that fits you made my world fall apart around me.

  You see, I hate New Houston, I did then and I still do now. The administration that runs it into the ground, mindless idiots who live here, the goddamn fact that I lived in a glorified submarine. I was told that I would be here forever for as long as I remember, stu what I sidered hell for my whole life. Yet, this song gave me hope, just a paltry sliver of it, but it was enough.

  My mask fell off at that moment, and Freesia had me.

  As I sobbed, she held me in her arms, quietly ing the lyrito my ear. Perhaps she legitimately wao calm me down, but looking ba it, it just seems like she ulling me further and further into her clutches. It’s hard to tell with her, so I don’t think it’s worth dwelling on.

  The important thing is, that was the moment she first kissed me. After that, we were inseparable, lovers with a pin goal in front of us-

  Finding our Somewhere.

  Not that she ever actually fug cared about that.

  [“Emme. Emme, you hear me?”] Prism’s anxious voice drags me out of my trance, and I reach up to find a siear going down my cheek. [“Are you okay?”]

  I bitterly chuckle, shaking my head. “I guess not. I thought two months would be enough to be over… over her, but apparently not.”

  I shiver, hugging myself as my chest silently heaves. The fact that talking about this was distressing enough to cause this much stress despite my mask… was a bad sign.

  Yet.

  Thinking about it wasn’t as hard now.

  Yet.

  It still fug hurts.

  I wish I could stop and just let the pain fade away through the numbness of the mask, but…

  I kick a pile of pis spores, sending it into the air around me.

  I quietly breathe my words through ched teeth. “Work through it Emme. You do it.”

  [“Pardon? I couldn’t hear that very well.”]

  “It was nothing, princess. Let me finish the story before I sed guess myself.”

  A little over two months ago, the annual august festival was going on, but that isn’t what was important about the date for me. I had spent fug ten years w as a essentially free worker for the people of the Fourth’s market, learning everything I could about being a New Houstonian mert all the while. To be ho, I ’t stand sales work, it drains me like nothing else, especially when I get paid basically nothing for it, but I worked through it for one important reason.

  I nning on being the Fourth’s tral market representative. The role es with privileges and power on the Fourth, but the reason I wa was because of the sedary bes, mainly that it was the only ticket to getting a corporate job from somewhere outside the flotil. It was rare, but sometimes visiting ships would hire people from the tral market as crew, and from there you could go anywhere.

  I was incredibly anxious for the event, which was absolutely not helped by the fact that Freesia hadn’t talked to me in a few days. She was my mental crutch, the person I relied upon to be on my side no matter what. She was the only ohat knew about my dream, the only one who wholeheartedly agreed with me that I should push forth for it. Of course, when the reveal came and they called Steven Lysander up to the stage to give him the job, I was incredibly disappointed, but it wasn’t too bad.

  At least, until Freesia walked onto stage and kissed him on the cheek.

  My world shattered right there.

  I hate to admit it, but I ran. Unfortuhe pce I ran to was the abandoned apartment, where Freesia found me ed up on the couch. She emotionlessly tossed a pre-prepared bag of all my stuff at me, pointing to the door.

  I didn’t say a word as I left, and I don’t think I said a single word for a day or two. I went bae but I barely spent time there- No, I was a bit of a creep, stalking around Freesia’s house to try and eavesdrop any info I could get as to what the fuck happened.

  Oh, I heard the truth straight from her mouth, and it broke me a bit.

  Freesia spoke of how she fell for me because of my ‘differeo the rest, of how I would provide something she couldn’t get anywhere else. Yet, when I stopped paying as much attention to her, when I was w hard on a goal she swore to me she shared, she found someone else who fit the role better. A boy that wouldn’t take her away from her family if she was to stay with them.

  I was ready to leave at that point, but then I overheard something that caught my i. Mainly, she had heard of a woman from the Monteros looking for pretty workers for the manor, and that she was going to go apply whe a ce.

  No way in hell I was going to give her the satisfa of that.

  So I went out to search for that woman, and that was where I met Marianne for the first time.

  The rest is history.

  “So, that’s it. The anticlimactic reason I became a maid. To spite my ex for being a callous bitch.” I run my hand through my hair, marveling a bit at the weight that finishing the story had taken off my shoulders. “For what it’s worth, it did pay really well. I don’t know if there are many other jobs in the reef that don’t pay in scrip.”

  [“Emme… I legitimately don’t know what to say.”]

  Numb, I stand there quietly for a few seds, staring at the seemingly endless dead bodies ahead of me. A quote es to my mind, and I just blurt it out without thinking.

  “Someone I respect a lot once said, "When you spend your whole life living in a hole, the only way you go is up.”

  A dim spark lights in my heart, my frustration at the past slipping through my mask. I throw my hand up in the air, gesturing at the corpse farm around me.

  “Well, not for me apparently! I fug hate this pce!”

  Decisively, I ch my hand around the hammer, then start running forward

  “I worked so goddamn hard for a fug decade! So many exhausting days, dumbass people! Just to have it all vanish when my stupid employer sends me to fug die! Only for me to gaihing I could ever want in a instant because I hit a fug alien with a stupid monkey wrench!?”

  I slide to a stop, throwing my hammer as hard as I in front of me. The on ctters to the ground, sending a cloud of blue into the air around it. I breathe heavily as I reach up to cup my face, screaming into my hands as I let all out. I fall to my khe sea of blue spores beh me shifting to hold my weight.

  “I mean, what the fuck was it all for?! I wasted so much time, so muyself on that stupid goal! I’m such a fug idiot!”

  [“No.”]

  I freeze, looking incredulously at the video in my gsses to find Prism looking directly at me.

  “No? What the fuck do you mean no?! How else could you describe someone like me?!”

  [“I don’t think-”]

  “Who else but an idiot would fall for such a fug obvious manipution!? Work their ass off for nothing!?”

  [“MAYBE YOU ARE AN IDIOT, BUT FUG LISTEN TO ME FOR A MOMENT!”]

  I pletely freeze, staring in shock at the furious mermaid screaming at me through the call.

  [“YOU’RE A SURVIVOD!”]

  “A… Survivor?”

  [“I mean, fuck! I ’t imagine going through half of that, let alone deal with the knowledge that you now have! Yet here you fug are! Strohan me in so, so many ways! Don’t put yourself dowhat work, you gained valuable experience from that! Knowledge that you ow use to be not just everyone, but after so fug long, finally help yourself!”]

  She takes a breath, then asks, [“What do you want from your life, Emmelyn?”]

  “I-I want to travel the world, helping people where I .”

  [“Then fug do that! Who cares if you were maniputed arayed by people!? I certainly fug don’t! So stop having a tantrum a moving! We have work to do!”]

  We.

  That word bounces around in my head, gaining speed until it breaks free and knocks my mask off. Yet, I am not overwhelmed by what is below, and only one feeling seems to be present, a burning ember in my heart, yet oh so different from the frustration from just moments before.

  I wordlessly stand up, walking over to pick up my hammer.

  Funny.

  It seems… almost lighter than before.

  Aliapanacea