Wolf Boy, Chapter 2, Part I

Lider lurked while Rhys interviewed the assassin. The assassin’s eyes darted past Rhys’s seated form—in full priestly regalia—again and again. Anthros, even more than humans, disliked Cubi. Humans could at least sense them and the relationship had a give-and-take element since humans fed invisible Cubi and Cubi spoke to humans. Anthros—many Anthros—considered Cubi grotesque, worse than devils. Sub-sentient.

Hence, Lider’s silent presence. Human, Siphons, and Anthros could hear him now. But he left the job of confrontation to Rhys. Scare the assassin, by all means, but refrain from mental torture, especially when Lider felt tempted.

“Name?” Rhys said. “You came to the station as Junad from a North American kin group. Is that information accurate?”

Junad, still strapped to his cot, still supine, glared. Rhys and Lider didn’t expect him to give up any family information. Whether he acted under orders or on his own, Junad was unlikely to expose his kin.

“You’ve been here eight months. Why did you attack Panfilo now?”

Lider and Rhys had agreed not to start the questioning with motive. Why listen to a rant when they would collect damning evidence instead?

“I visited that restaurant, the one with the unnatural chef.”

Allec. And Junad likely meant “unnatural” due to Allec being an adult clone, produced on the Moon. Of course, Allec was married to another man, and any passionate believer could enumerate dozens of violations of “naturalness.” Anthros didn’t care much for baby clones either. Or Cubi. Or space. Or marriages between species.

They gave grudging respect to Siphons but deplored their commercial interests.

Junad said, “The boy is a made thing, a constructed object. Not a real Anthros. Like that pretend thing who researches Saints.”

And there was the rant.

Xavier

The pretend thing that researches Saints referred to a Cubus-become-Anthros, Xavier, who recently joined Francesca Paraclete's Congregation. He was registered—his tagged human was Phillipe, of all people. The news wasn't exactly common knowledge—not political common knowledge—and most people didn't know, as Rhys and Lider did, that Xavier inserted himself into the Congregation without permission, which crossing-the-line behavior was quietly ruffling a great many feathers in a great many places.

Xavier’s deliberate decision to look like an Anthros rather than a human—“A human with Anthros additions,” Frankie explained over a teleconference from Earth—was upsetting enough without bringing in the clandestine element. Anthros, zealous Anthros, were great believers in purity.

Did they object to Panfilo being unintentionally “kidnapped” as a toddler and brought to Mars? Mars’ environment made it a literal hell for many Anthros. Did they object to Panfilo being raised by a human couple? Did they object to Panfilo being removed from the hellish planet to a stark, gray, metal station?

Perhaps. But even the most radical Anthros usually gave children a pass. It was part of the “innocent animal” belief system.

Unless they believed Panfilo, like Xavier, had originally been a Cubus, though that seemed unlikely.

Or did they believe Panfilo was the product of genetic engineering?

Rhys said, “No kin group has stepped forward to claim Panfilo.”

Junad jerked his head in agreement. “No kin group. No family name. No origins. Not forest for his eventual return. He doesn't belong anywhere.”

Conspiracy irrationality

A strange argument, one would think, for a species that claimed to originate off-Earth. But Lider was familiar with the non-logical windings of fanaticism: Monolithic statelets try to control my thoughts with their ideas—why aren't those ideas my ideas? Evil polluting humans and Siphons destroyed forests in the past—we weren't here; we aren't culpable; if we had been on Earth already, we would never have behaved the same. Current species are obsessed with space and non-growing life—we came from space to protect the forests and the animals of Earth.

Rhys said, “Several groups have asked to take Panfilo in.”

“As if he can be what he isn’t. And he refused.”

He is guilty. If he isn't guilty, he is still guilty. If he doesn't behave in a guilty way, he will sooner or later exhibit guilt.

Lider was familiar with determinism in all its forms. He squashed a sigh.