2023-10-26: .you have come to my Calling with concerns and conspiracY
- Log: .you have come to my Calling with concerns and conspiracY
- Cast: Yuliana Kafim, Sayla Mass
- Where: Helsingborg, Scandinavia - Recreation Hall
- Date: 2023-10-26
- Summary: Sayla visits a meeting of the Silent Calling in order to evaluate it. Yuliana's meetings have been disrupted by sabotage, lately -- but not today. Today, everything goes off smoothly, including the way she reassures her followers who are concerned about her activities in the REA. Sayla comes to speak with Yuliana afterwards, and shares her insight into building a charity; Yuliana, who was always set to her own sabotage and destruction, has surprisingly little insight into healing and building communities. But she does truly seem to want to help, even if she makes reference to previously helping to destroy the Super-Human Institute Technical Research Center, where no one was helped at all. (This, apparently, is why her calling doesn't destroy labs directly, trafficking victims away instead.) Sayla isn't able to get much information about Yuliana's world-changing plots from her, but she is able to convince her to sabotage Murasame's research -- and look into destroying the original copies. (CW: Cult activity.)
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
"My Callers," Yuliana smiles, beside Elisa, reaching out as if to embrace her congregation. They've gathered here in a recreational hall, in Helsingborg, Scandinavia. (It's a small enough city that most would need to travel there -- but large enough to have its roads maintained and a train stopping by.) Her physical embrace may be metaphorical, but the embrace of her Silence is not; this meeting is characterised by the empathic annulment of Yuliana's aura, the whole building made quiet. "I thank you again for coming all this way, and for all your patience... I know that there are many who would foil or foul our gatherings, but I consider it my greatest privilege to see you all in the flesh. Now we have concluded our ceremonies and sermons, I welcome your questions..." And many questions come, here at the end of the meeting.
More than one Caller is concerned for Yuliana's safety, after an unmarked van attempted to kidnap her from the streets of Magallanica a week prior. Even before that, one of the meetings she held previously ended with its food poisoned by some malevolent party. It was only Yuliana's sharp gaze which caught the operatives' suspicious movement then, and she was endlessly regretful they'd been targeted alongside her. And before that, a meeting was interrupted by some absolutely riotous cars which kept driving past with their music at full blast! But Yuliana assures them she is well, glad for their concern. She shares her suspicion that the REA is behind these disruptions, and assures them that no one could stop her from coming to them all.
Likewise, some are curious why the Head Priestess has come to this meeting, when she appears so infrequently -- and they assure them that Elisa is here to protect Yuliana, as is her sacred duty.
Others have personal concerns -- unsupportive family, or concerns about their life paths, or worries for the future. Yuliana brings them to the stage, and grasps their hands in glowing support, as she councils them to think of their own happiness. They cannot pour from an empty cup, she insists, to those people and to everyone; if they are unsatisfied, of course this will impact those they love. And the future... she acknowledges it is frightening, and even embraces a few frightened questants, but she assures them she is working to bring them all to peace and equality. Trust in her; she will not abandon them.
Some are residents of the REA, and more hesitant; they ask her to explain the Orchid she's grown, in the shallows of Ambon's shore. To this, she says: "I understand it is confronting," bowing her head to the man who's come up to the stage, ceding that pain to him. "I hope you have seen my explanation for what happened, in Sri Lanka... yes?" He nods. "But even so," Yuliana goes on, and not unkindly, "it must be difficult. The Republic is glad to call me the enemy... and I regret that I acted in such a way that made it easy. I am... truly, sorry, I let them get to me... you see, I am human as you are, with all the same passions and foibles. I wish I had treated the common man better," and her regret sounds entirely genuine, "really, I do. But you will notice these flowers do not grow in the city -- and they are calming things. Has a single man died to look upon them?" She pauses, to let him confirm no one has, and goes on: "... when enough flowers bloom, I will have the power to save you all. I only ask you believe in me, for I work without rest to bring us to our future of blessed Silence."
And her warmth convinces him, the way her endless eyes meet his with such genuine care and concern. She seems to have time for everyone who speaks up, bringing them forward to centre their problems and concerns, clasping their hands or embracing them in moments of high emotion. (Each of their worries, eased with the whole, bringing everyone closer together; these audiences serve a purpose, clear as day. Even doubt is turned to belief, through the will of the congregation. To speak up, here, is to serve their purpose.) When Yuliana and Elisa have exhausted their desire to share, they lead them again on meditation, inside themselves, to connect with their inviolable selves. To know yourself, they say, is to hold the greatest power -- for only when you know yourself can you deny those who would use you for ends you do not desire.
When the meeting ends, they invite everyone to eat; they have people with kits to test the food, now, to make sure there's no foul play. And they eat with them, of course... but at length Yuliana steps outside, to lean on the verandah outside the building. (She asks Elisa to see to the people, while she takes this break; she assures her she won't go far. She doesn't voice how confronting it is, to be around so many people after a week hidden away in the Castle, but surely Elisa can see her expression for what it is.)
Her Caller's robes are warm against the snow, flakes drifting down now the sun has set; a cloak of black and green evokes dragon's wings, just like the golden headdress she wears, twin wings rising up behind her ears. (They are hollow inside, to disguise the reason why this whole congregation is Silent, as surely as each of them were seated beside her.) Golden jewellery weighs at her neck, her wrists, about her waist. She is visibly, tangibly vital, though she clearly doesn't use that status to separate herself from her followers. (Many of whom, by this point, wear black to demonstrate their own devotion.) Indeed, any one of them could step outside, follow her for more conversation...
... but none do. The sanctity of one's own company is one of the Silent Calling's tenets, and few of the devotees so determined to see Yuliana would violate this moment she takes for herself. No: she need not fear approach from the faithful, out here, weight resting against the rail as she stares out at a darkening sky. Besides, they are able to beseech the Head Priestess for her wisdom -- though Yuliana has stepped away, they are cared for.
But it's not impossible for others to find this congregation, even though they've taken efforts to meet inconspicuously.
And the doors of the Silent Calling have ever been open to the curious... or the concerned.
<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.
"This is a bad idea, Dr Mass."
Sayla looked at the building from a hover lander sitting parked down the road. "I know, Miss Tachibana." Sayla responds to her bodyguard, slipping the location transmitting cufflinks- one GPS, one transmitting a more narrowed location to the vehicle. "But we don't have a new Spade-2 yet, and I'm not sending any of our younger members in there."
The half-Zaftran woman frowns, as she loads her revolver. "I should be going in with you."
"You probably should," Sayla agrees, "but if things go pear-shaped I need you able to get me out of there if the Kafims try to use that power of theirs on me. If you're with me, you'd be subject to it too."
Maria Tachibana's frown doesn't disappear, but she nods as Sayla fits the conduction microphone to her throat, covering it with makeup, and puts on the watch with the disguised distress buzzer. "Alert phrase?"
Sayla takes a deep breath, putting on her sunglasses. "Comet trail."
---
She had made her way into the meeting quietly, trying to stay unobtrusive. There's no way she wouldn't be noticed, or recognized- Yuliana would feel her 'wrongness' as soon as she stepped into the zone of Yuliana's powers.
The throbbing in her head, the unnatural silence- both verbal and psychic- weighed on her. Painkillers didn't seem to do much to help, either. She listened to the sermon, but she couldn't view it without suspicion. At least she didn't have to worry about another Newtype detecting her feelings here.
But she observes quietly, making mental notes to herself. Her eyes carefully track Elisa, behind her glasses. She does not join the meal- there's no need for her to take things meant for those in need- but she does take note of the meal. What sort of food are they providing, what sort of means do they have. It doesn't seem inherently suspicious, on that front at least- but the fear of poisoning seems real.
Indeed, Yuliana seems extremely genuine. That's probably what made her such a dangerous leader- a true believer can so easily sweep those behind in their wake.
But as for trying to gain the attention of the Callers, she doesn't. She's an outsider, and notedly such. Trying to gather information from those in the cult would likely end up with them clamming up.
But for the moment, the High Priestess is occupied, and Yuliana is alone. And the concerned may sometimes breach the rules of the organization. Call it first timer's confusion. After waiting ten minutes after Yuliana has stepped outside, Sayla moves. She doesn't sneak toward the Verandah, she simply walks towards it. It is one thing to try and subtly interrogate the members of the calling- it's another to speak to them after a private conversation with their leader. Perhaps the perception of approval would make them easier to talk to.
"...Good evening, Mrs Kafim." Sayla speaks quietly, as she approaches Yuliana. No hiding her presence, no subtle movements. Her hands stay well away from the holster hidden under her jacket- but she never travels unarmed, and hasn't for a long time. "I'm quite impressed. Speaking from experience, it's no small feat to be able to care for this many after such a short time in operation."
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
Yuliana knows there are Newtypes present. Newtypes plural -- though none are quite as loud or obvious as Sayla. Luckily(?), in the Silence of their leader, there's no way for them to reach each other.
... the Silent Calling were the first organisation to loudly and publically name and explain Newtypes to the world -- and there were some people, isolated enough, who had no explanation before they found those flyers. They run support groups for them. Isn't that nice.
The food, here, is Swedish; the Silent Calling, notably, always tries to serve local, culturally-specific food. (Sometimes, this means their luncheons are absolute feasts, when there are several major cultures with different palates. The selection isn't always broad, but they try to have something available.) It's not particularly fancy -- the Silent Calling rents out kitchen facilities staffed by volunteers -- but it looks nutritious and filling, and there's enough for everyone, both the poor and those with greater means. They all eat together.
(Even as an obvious visitor who appears well-off, Sayla is still offered a meal. These people may be selfish, but they're hospitable; taking enough for themselves doesn't mean they can't then offer things to others. They do pour from their full cups.)
Sayla doesn't sneak, and surely people see her -- Yuliana does, turning as she recognises those tears in the world where something was supposed to go. But she smiles, and spreads her hand in welcome, and so there is no need to interrupt. All is well.
It's fine if she's armed. Yuliana never leaves home without a bulletproof vest on, these days, either; it's why her top half is so relatively sleek in comparison to the rest of her. Bulletproof vests really are the soldier's binder.
"Dr. Mass," she greets her, with that smile. "Thank you. I like to think they recognise my earnest feelings... since I began this Calling to try and help others as I'd been helped, when everyone helped rescue me from the Institute." They didn't just rescue Yuliana. Anyway. "It's been a learning experience for me, since I was never much of a public speaker, before all this... but you know, the Federation has failed a great many people. If I can offer them some aid, I'm happy."
She sighs, leaning on the veranda again. "Actually, I expected this meeting to be interrupted, as well... when I've attended to these personally, they've been targeted, of late. But everything was quiet, today... I wonder if Leina tracked them down? ... the people they sent to bring me back, I mean." Of course Yuliana attributes this to Leina; why wouldn't Leina have been the one to catch them? "Even though I saw his face, I wasn't much help... haa, you know, the black ops cells, we didn't all get together for company luncheons."
<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.
Sayla had seen the flyers.
She had not liked the flyers. Not even a little bit.
The food strategy of the silent calling is one in line with the Yumi Foundation's approach for events. That's how you get meals like Chocobo Steaks at such things, but it makes sense to use local foods, cooked to keep someone fed and full. Sayla can appreciate that much.
Sayla politely declines the offer, saying she ate before she came- something that is wholly true. Having enough for them to spare, though, is a good sign for the supplies of the Calling. So far there's nothing suspect there.
"I see. The people here certainly seem receptive to your earnestness." Sayla's tone remains careful and polite. The link between Yuliana being a better public speaker and the Federation's failings isn't something that's obvious to Sayla. "I can understand that. The Federation is eager to leave a great many behind." It's to help others like Yuliana was helped, is it? Is that really what's happening here?
"I'm afraid Leina can't tell me everything about her work these days." That's not... technically a lie. "It's all for the better that they you haven't been today."
Sayla closes her eyes, briefly. The headaches are continuing, and she takes a sharp intake of breath. "I confess, I had wanted to see the new organization on the block. It's always good to see others willing to take on the work of helping others. It's a necessary thing, in this day and age. Would that it weren't."
She opens her eyes again, and look over the Callers. "Are the volunteers all part of your Calling too? Or good samaritans from other walks of life?"
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
What a shame!
"I had to step up," Yuliana says, and perhaps it's something of an explanation. If the Silent Calling has been a learning experience for her -- she must be figuring out public speaking on the job in order to better reach everyone hurt by the Federation. "I am far from the only person the Federation has harmed. These people needed someone. And I... needed to be able to help someone." There's a thread of despair, to that last line, a frown creasing her face.
"Ah, but Leina's work... yes, I suppose her situation has changed." Yuliana looks up, at the snow-laden clouds in the twilight dark. "Funny, isn't it? Last year, I was the authority moving on her in the name of the law... well, I just hope she's not asked to do anything quite so harsh." A beat, "I accept that she thinks Cathedra is better than the REA, anyway. Given their persona, it's plausible. Or they would like it to be seen so." She's no less paranoid about the Federation, but she makes... some attempt... to believe in Leina's convictions.
Kind of. A little.
"But I am glad to have you see this," she goes on, smiling again. "Perhaps we will even work together, one day! I know some new Callers treated your announcement with scepticism, but I would hope that everyone would still be able to cooperate. We all wish to aid this ailing planet, after all." And space? No? Just Earth? Okay. Despite that, Yuliana spreads a hand, gesturing back towards the door. "We are inclusive of all who would come -- all are welcome to be Callers, here. Though some are more casually affiliated than others... we've many who assist here and there with our charities who do not regularly attend meetings. Oh! That reminds me, I should really check in with Ujico..." ... one of those casual volunteers?
Yuliana is distracted, for a moment, as her mind wanders to that person. But a moment later, she blinks, and orients back to Sayla. "Are you all right?" She asks, at length. And then: "Oh! Oh, yes, of course. You will forgive me -- my people come to me for Silence. Is it too much for you? I can pull back, if you can't bear it. You're Leina's mother, after all... I should host you graciously."
She doesn't stop the awful thing she's doing, though. She'll wait for Sayla to ask her.
<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.
"...I can understand that," Sayla's voice remains quiet, as she considers. The need to help someone suffering is a strong one, one Sayla can understand. But if that was all it was, what need would be to wage battle the way Yuliana does?
...So thinks the woman who felt the need to reenter the cockpit despite her own charity.
But that thread of despair, that Sayla picks up on. "...I would say that there are those of us who cannot sit idly by when the see such cruelty and neglect, Mrs Kafim. It can be too painful to do nothing when you could do something, can it not?"
"It has," Sayla responds, with a slight darkness to her tone. She let's some of her own displeasure show on her face. "The people who authorized the deal gave me every reassurance that Leina would not be a weapon- but even if you can trust the people at the top, you can't trust every person under their command." Sayla starts drumming the fingers of her right hand on the back of her left. "All it takes is one wrong person in the right place, after all. One person with power who sees an opportunity for themselves, or their cause that they value more than their ethics."
She had put the same suggestion to Princess Cornelia a day ago. You cannot trust everyone under you- or alongside you. Some things only take one to ruin the world.
"Perhaps we shall," Sayla says her voice returning to that measured, polite tone. Her announcement, hm. "It was something I had to take into consideration- I knew I would lose some people. But the information was already out there. Better to be ahead of it than behind." She pauses again, taking a second. "Some people like that can be fickle. Not all, of course. But some. It's worth making provisions to ensure you can keep operating should they prove to be so." And it's not Yuliana's fault if it's their fickleness at play, is it?
She notes the name mentally, it's unusual. Someone important enough for Yuliana to remember the name of. Keep that in mind. "Well, it speaks well of you that you have those sort of volunteers. Even if they cannot be a full presence, they choose to help you." Maybe she's putting it on a bit too thick, right now, and Sayla pulls back when the offer comes to 'pull back'.
But she'd still feel it if she is in range of quiet conversation. "Far be it from me to deny your calling what they feel they need, Mrs Kafim." Even though it's harder to maintain the way she is now. "I'll just have to be careful not to push myself too far."
Leina is still important to Yuliana, it seems. Important enough to warrant accomodating Sayla. "Your concern is appreciated, Mrs Kafim, but I will endure." She looks away for a second, so that the wince of pain is less obvious.
"It seems you are very capable of taking care of those who have come to you so far. What comes next? The slow work, as it is?"
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
Obligations.
"Yes," Yuliana agrees, when Sayla speaks of the pain of standing idly by. "I must do something. I am compelled!" And with such an impulsive tone of voice, it might not have even been something she planned thoroughly. She just... decided to do it, one day.
And of course, her wife facilitated her.
She frowns, though, thinking of Leina. "I worry for her. Even if everything is as she says, she's a bargaining chip, now. Never mind that she is bound to come against me, considering..." But she sighs, and shakes her head. "... no, I should not speak of it. It's a private matter." She's mindful of Elisa's feelings on discussing Emptear with outsiders. She's the only one who can mind Elisa's feelings, after all.
Few things are Yuliana's fault. "That is the way of information," she agrees. "The Republic had to do this often. Often, with me!" She thinks of their efforts to paint Yuliana as having had a breakdown in Torrington, and scoffs, lips curling over her teeth. "Claiming I was under stress to explain how I received the Shamblo... tchah, they sent me there to sabotage the whole thing, and threw me under the bus for not doing it right. They didn't even tell me -- I thought I was deploying to prevent... ahhh, never mind, it's all ancient history now." But her fingers drum against the railing, and she's bothered.
"Still, I appreciate your wisdom, in this," she shakes her head. And it seems she appreciates Sayla enough to pause, turning towards her again. "But you've come all this way," she says. "Let's not have you endure our meeting. I am not as harsh as I was." The fact that she's insisting is a particular tone she's set, as her fins fold behind her ears again, and she takes a step backwards to clear Sayla out of her personal space. That step is the only visible step she takes -- her fins are hidden within her headdress -- but the psychic effect is immediate. Sayla can breathe again.
(She may feel, in the ensuing noise, a brief flash of recognition from inside -- she's not the only one like her, here. But there's a sense of alarm, to the lightning, and it quickly pulls back. ... they don't want to 'talk'.)
"... but I appreciate that you think I am capable," she says, smiling. "Here, with this slow work -- we are working on finding more contacts to secure housing, around the world. War and disaster destroy homes, or those homes become hostile... all our efforts to aid and comfort mean little without basic shelter and safety. But securing a home is more difficult a thing than distributing coats or meals -- you know." She gestures, vaguely, to fill in the details; Sayla surely does know the scale of those logistics.
"Of course, I am still working to save the world. But before this is done, people still freeze to death in alleyways. And it is... difficult, to save the dead." A brief pause, as she looks back out to the dark streets, frowning again. "Not impossible, I hope. But unlikely. Vanishingly unlikely." Even with her efforts to preserve Rita and give her a new lease on life, Yuliana can't simply say that she can save the ghosts of this world.
Really, it's rather the opposite.
<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.
Compelled. An interesting choice of words. "There are far worse compulsions one could have, Mrs Kafim." Indeed, Yuliana has had many worse compulsions in the time Sayla has known her. As recently as a few weeks ago.
Yuliana's not the only one with a dour expression at that point. "...She is. She insisted upon it." It's easy to tell that Sayla is uneasy about it. "...But she has that same compulsion to try to do something rather than nothing. If she thinks she can stop another person being treated like she was, she'll do it. No matter the cost to herself." There's a mix of pride and sorrow there, as Sayla speaks. "It's not what I wanted for her," Sayla says, perhaps a touch more honest than she intended to be, "but for now it is the best of a bad situation." Sayla considers prying, but instead raises and eyebrow, and then moves on with a nod.
Sayla's attention was elsewhere during Torrington, but she got whatever feeds she could from the battle afterwards. "I see the REA kept the One Year War playbook of keeping their soldiers in the dark." And having met one of the author's of that playbook, she can't say she's surprised. But it's easy to paint a convenient villain.
That rush, as though air is filling a vacuum is initially loud, and Sayla reflexively puts her walls up- but no so quickly that she does not feel and is felt in return. The headache subsides, and it becomes easier to think. Easier to focus. Sayla closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "Thank you, Mrs Kafim."
"...Housing is tricky. We often have to build it ourselves- coordinate with local firms who are willing to work for the tax writeoffs and subsidised wages." She considers giving a name, but... Sayla's own contacts were hard earned- and they can only do so much work at a time. "Acquiring land isn't easy, either. And Manhunters do so love to target tent cities and the like." There's a feeling of conflict for Sayla. Is the short to medium chance of helping people worth the long term risks...?
...It is, damnit.
"...A former gym often has showers, bathrooms, and even an employee kitchen or a small food store. It's not ideal, but if you want to get a shelter set up on the short term, it's a good option. You have a lot of floor space and can probably reuse the existing equipment elsewhere."
Yuliana's still working to save the world, is she? She can take a guess at who Yuliana is referring to. Sayla's silent for a little while, crossing her arms. "...Quite."
Sayla pauses for a brief while longer. "You allayed that man's concerns about Ambon quite deftly. He seemed well and truly at ease after you spoke to him, from such a place of fear." It's risky topic to push forward on, but perhaps Yuliana is at ease with her now to speak of it. "Still, it was an interesting question to ask him then. 'Has a single man died to look upon them?' wasn't it? It's as thought you were able to cut to the heart of concerns so promptly."
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
"I know this," Yuliana says, and if one tilts their head it almost sounds like admitting culpability for those wicked compulsions. (Without, explicitly, admitting anything.)
She's weary, though, when Sayla brings up stopping their treatment. "I... am trying to stop it," she says, and the hitch of hesitation in her voice is real. "And at times I have. But what they asked of me... ah, that it is destroyed means they can treat no one else." She closes her eyes, with a quiet frown, as she dwells on Celestial Being's methods for the moment. What happened at the Super-Human Institute Technical Research Center, it was...
"... but that is why the Calling has not assaulted those labs directly," she says, without explaining her unrest at all. "It is not so bad to keep a subtle hand, too." And it is her unrest which loosens her tongue, with that aside justification, as if she could paper over her discomfort with so many good works. She's not a bad person. It's not her fault.
Though she's no less disquieted -- thinking about being kept in the dark.
She focuses on more practical matters, instead. "Build it ourselves? A fine idea! I will speak to my Elisa about it." Yuliana smiles, at least, to think that they could just build more houses. "Yes, the tents are no good -- and here, here it is too cold." She holds a hand out, to cup those snowflakes.
They should really feel colder than they do, against her skin.
"A gym, though, you think...?" Yuliana hums, tilting her head. "Yes, of course! I will make note of this, as well. Thank you, Doctor. These are things I have not had to think about, so I wouldn't have thought to use them." And her excitement on realising this, too, seems entirely genuine. Yuliana is happy to realise they have more options.
But she pauses, as she comes to Sayla's ultimate concerns. She breathes out, and her breath does not mist terribly visibly, in the air, the way hot breath should. "I know what most say of me, Doctor. I am not deaf. I know that many fear us -- and even my Callers will hear these things, and worry. As I said, I regret that my fears and passions got ahead of me, and made those worries quite easy to hold. I know that when I act, the question asked is, 'who will die?' They have asked this for a decade, Doctor. I know I am a weapon." Again, she sounds weary, as if pressed down for far longer than ten years. "But I am not planting a garden of death. I am not some madman, questing to destroy the world. Is it a crime to assure my people of my intentions?" She asks, more pointed, glancing sidelong to Sayla with a dour look. "Or would you prefer my flowers spread death and disease? Would this be easier for you? Less complicated? Is that what you want of me, Doctor?"
<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.
Sayla doesn't press the issue further. It's as close as she's likely to get.
"...Ten years, I've been fighting facilities that like. Destroying the facility is not enough. We've seen that already." Sayla breathes sharply again. Oh how they've seen that the destruction is not enough- what a man who escaped one of those facilities could do with the right backer. It only takes one. She grips her left arm with her right hand tightly. "You need to have a place to tend to those you save. You need to have a place to contain those who run those facilities, those who did the research." Assuming you don't kill them outright. "And if you don't have all those, it's not enough- because then it can start all over again. A subtle hand is better to catch all those things, then a hammer that only destroys."
It seems such an easy thing for Yuliana to have not considered. She has people who want to work, who want something to do, and pre-fabs are relatively simple buildings to make. "...I am sure she would advise you well." She doesn't look back into the room, where the High Priestess is. She doesn't want to draw their attention.
"Gyms are one of the first places we look in disaster relief, after existing shelters. With a small crew you can clear one out, and get bedrolls from a camping store and sleeping bags or blankets. It's often short term, but it lets people have their basic needs met." Sayla speaks about this with a certain passion. This *was* her life's work from her early 20s, and she had to learn this stuff the hard way.
It's noticeable. The lack of mist, compared to Sayla's breath. It was not something she ever noticed before.
She'd have to talk to the members of Advanced Logistics who dealt with Yuliana most in the old days. Maybe they'd remember better.
"...It's true, it would complicate matters less." It's now she looks out at the hall, where the callers are dining. "But no, I would not prefer it. I apologize for my offensive words, Mrs Kafim." Now is not the time for Sayla to dig her heels in- no matter how personal and real her fears about those claiming to 'save' the world quickly may be.
Her tone turns even again, carefully moderated the way she so often is. "I spoke carelessly, and I hope you will forgive me." Leave this topic for now. She could maybe get more by provoking Yuliana, by confronting her- but the risk is too great in here.
Sayla doesn't speak for a while. There are few points of clear, solid common ground between them- so much is shaky, and Sayla has to tread carefully. But there's one topic she knows she can speak frankly with Yuliana about. It's perhaps underhanded to use Leina this way- but after her conversation yesterday, it's been on my mind. "...I have something to ask you, regarding Leina." It's a simple thing. "That book you got me in Zilkhstan, I've found something out about the author." She takes a deep breath in, hoping Yuliana understands. "It seems that all he cares about is finding a publisher for his work- and little care for who it would be, or how widespread it would become- or who would be hurt by those who read his words." Sayla looks Yuliana in the eye, with a seriousness. "It would hurt him deeply to find that any of his manuscripts were... lost forever. Or maliciously edited."
It's not burning down his world- but it's a little step towards burying that information forever.
And Yuliana can, perhaps, understand the value of hurting someone who hurt you and yours.
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
"I know. I know!" But Yuliana, even if she can't quite be called a hammer, is more a machete than a stiletto; she had to be trained to be subtle, more papering-over the cracks. She is a naturally erratic figure, and she is that way because the REA required destruction. She lost her cool, and she...
Perhaps that's why she didn't think of building houses.
... at least thinking of Elisa calms her down.
(And being with Elisa, perhaps, has cooled her down. Her breath was warmer in the air, a year ago.)
"They did not place us on disaster relief often," Yuliana smiles, though she's clearly still unnerved. "You know, it is the same thing that killed us, during Second Impact. The military was busy, then. They were taking advantage, while dysentery and dengue and seeping wounds left men dying in the streets. The medical tents were full. The military doctors wouldn't treat them. Conservation of resources..." There's a certain haunted quality to her pupilless eyes, before she looks away. "We'd only just moved there, after the Sydney drop flooded Ambon. But ayah, my father, he was military, so he found a transport to take us to my mother's homeland. Far from the shore. Haa... you will excuse me, I got off track," she shakes her head, looking up at the snow drifting down. "I meant only to say that I was typically tasked with killing certain persons when disasters struck, not to help the people."
... it might explain why she cares so much about seeing people housed, though. That level of destruction...
But Yuliana, melancholic as she is, does have reason to grant Sayla latitude -- if only because Leina would never forgive her if she accidentally fell from the railing under Yuliana's watch. So she looks back to her, when Sayla apologises, and dips her head in acknowledgement. "All is well," she assures her. "I have spoke in passion too often to hold an unconsidered question against you. I understand, of course, that you're concerned... but I'm pleased we can still speak civilly."
And the reason they can speak so civilly...
Yuliana blinks, and orients on Sayla again when she brings up Leina. The book, of course, is not really a book, but Yuliana recognises what she's saying at once. "What a libelous man," she frowns, and this accusation is also a metaphor. "I'm not like to publish his drivel -- it's bad enough there are so many stories about me out there already." A lot of people got access to the Institute's files, after the raid. Her files. "And I am sure my wife would use none of it -- either -- were I to ask. Which I will. I doubt she would entertain him for a moment regardless, but I know how authors tend to build on each others' works." Science. She's talking about how science builds on previous science.
"But let me ask," she says, spreading a hand, "what edits you would propose making to the work. How could it be a worse piece than it is? I can scarcely wonder!"
<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.
Again, Sayla sees where to back off. It was meant to be sympathetic, rather than aggravating things further. But she simply nods.
The story of Second Impact, however... Sayla remembers the stories she heard. The news reports, even through Britannian News, were horrid. And it seems to strike Sayla hard. "...Those bastards." In the Britannian Midwest, Sayla had been well and truly safe from the floods. They hadn't lived through the worst of it- and the Federation had refused to let her leave Cheyenne to go volunteer with relief.
"As am I, Mrs Kafim. Thank you." The way she has to navigate this conversation makes it harder to believe she'll get anything useful here. She should have followed Maria's advice after all. But it's not a completely wasted effort.
Sayla nods in understanding. "I've no doubt there are many authors who would love to take the work and incorporate into their own, perhaps thinking it will make their stories stronger."
Yuliana asks her what edits she would make, however, and Sayla pauses for a moment. "...Ideally, I would simply have the original manuscript be destroyed, once and for all. But if you were to take the cover, and fill the pages with unreplicable drivel that looks authentic enough to read to, say, identify the reader..." The Nega-Force had a skilled hacker amongst them, of some skill. With the credentials from the Garuda, it would be easy enough to present authenticity. "...and if the pages catch fire after that..." She trails off. She's sure Yuliana can see where there is going.
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
"For a long time, I excused it," Yuliana frowns, of the REA's opportunism. "But they enforced such charity on me, I suppose."
Getting anything useful! And here Yuliana thought she came for a friendly visit. She would be wounded.
(She's gotten things out of it, though, so it's not a loss for her. Gymnasiums... they should be able to secure those easily enough.)
She scowls, when Sayla starts talking about other scientists using Murasame's work to do their own horrors. She doesn't feel she can promise destroying the research herself -- it's in Elisa's care, after all -- but sabotage, on the other hand, is entirely within her wheelhouse.
"We do have the cover," she confirms, of their signed credentials. "And my Elisa is an author as well, you know. I know I can ask her to invent something plausible to paste over the details." She knows this, of course, because they already have: she knows that Elisa excised Murasame's theories on Emptear from his files before she handed them over. "And it is simple enough to keep track of who buys a copy, in this day and age -- and from what store! Don't you think it would be useful to know which bookshops sell the most copies?" She's talking about the location the research was accessed, of course. Even if they can't identify everyone by name, there's a lot of data they can get, from the access logs.
"Since we're both organisers, it only makes sense to share information like this," she goes on, as if it's a normal conversation. "Once my people have set it up, I'll send the details to your people. Yes? And..." Here she pauses, delicately. "I will ask about destroying the original, once we've put the edits out. But I think you can agree that knowing who wants to read such a thing is important information." Yuliana would prefer Murasame's research vanish, if it were up to her -- but she doesn't know if Elisa needs it, and she can't possibly speak for her wife.
(Besides, it's enrichment for Parminder. Leave him alone too long, and he starts hacking her phone to play the most annoying ringtones in the world.)
<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.
They would, Sayla thinks as Yuliana speaks of that enforced charity. But she simply nods in acknowledgement.
Sayla does her best to keep a level face when Yuliana talks about Elisa being an 'author' as well. It's something of concern- especially with what Leina's said about her.
"Very much so," Sayla agrees, on the topic of bookshops. "Knowing the stockists means one might be able to organize a... signing tour, of sorts." A signing tour in the form of a black ops squad.
"Of course. A collaboration between like minded organizers." When the topic of destroying the original research comes up, however, Sayla nods. "I appreciate that, Mrs Kafim. I'll... trust your wife's judgment."
That felt horrid to say, but it doesn't show on her face. Dr Mass is an experienced liar.
"Thank you for your time and hospitality today, Mrs Kafim. This has been a most worthwhile visit. I'm glad to see things are going well here." Don't push things any further, Sayla. You've got a win here- even if you'll have to make sure you can verify it. "I hope that the rest of your day is... uneventful."
She doesn't move to leave until Yuliana acknowledges that the conversation is over- but once she does, Sayla leaves promptly, not bothering any of the Callers and steering clear of Elisa.
And once the verification questions are done with Maria, the hover lander leaves the neighborhood on a circuitous route.
You never know who might be watching after all.
----
"The Second Princess, Yuliana Kafim... You've got to stop making deals with devils, Dr Mass."
"...I know. But sometimes, Miss Tachibana, they're the only way to get what you want."