Wolf Boy, Chapter 4, Part II

Pan was fairly passive or centered or calm or naturally composed—whatever people liked to believe about Anthros—but he needed to mull before he made up his mind about something important, like whether he should return to Earth.

In truth, Pan suspected that his natural calm was not the same as Sandy’s. Sandy had the white pelt of a polar bear and resembled posters of polar bears at rest. Sandy also had an equable temper. Sandy was honestly devoted to God, like Lider, and honestly loving, unlike Lider who "worked at being good" (his words).

Pan didn’t consider himself good or bad. He suspected he wasn’t particularly loving or patient or tolerant. He missed his foster mother, Samantha, but he’d not felt the degree of deprivation at her death many Mars’ citizens insisted he feel.

Anthros and reformers would say that he never truly bonded with his human parents, but Pan hadn’t bonded with his Anthros’s foster parents either. Deep-woods Anthros, Raine and Ruella had disliked the station and hated Mars. They only came in the first place because they believed Pan needed a kin group. They left within six months. Allec and Quin became his legal guardians.

Allec and Quin, at least, made sense to Pan. Allec was a straight talker, and Quin was good at taking whatever came next. Pan could invest in them. He wanted Allec to live longer, to undergo the newest life-extension procedure, which he could only do on Earth.

He said to Quin, “You’re going to go back to Earth. Not just for the procedure. Digory is going back.”

Digory was Allec’s mentor, another food buff, and one of the oldest citizens on Mars. He had family back on Earth, and he wanted to visited them one last time before he died and was buried on Mars. Digory was another being who made sense to Pan.

“I told Digory I would accompany him,” Allec said.

Quin jerked his head in the affirmative. He didn’t like to talk about Allec’s short life or Allec’s need for another procedure or the fact that nobody knew for certain how much more time Allec would get. Usually, Pan spoke to Allec directly about these things. But now—

“I think I should go,” Pan said.

When he was first discovered on Mars, people asked him again and again if he wanted to return to Earth. The Alands had found him on Earth before they left for Mars. He was four at the time. Didn’t he crave forests and streams and such?

Most Anthros, even those on the station, spoke fondly of their hometowns, the natural Earth sites they associated with their early years. Gerry, who headed Demographics, planned to go back to her hometown in Western North America one day.

Pan’s early years were filled with views of Olympus Mons, dry sand tinged orange and red; piles of rocks that looked like hard, cold Jello; dark chasms for lava tubes. He would have become a Mars’ Floor Explorer if Anthros were allowed to live on Mars and not just visit.

He wanted to live on Mars. But so many Anthros thought he’d been deprived of the chance to choose. They thought he clung to Mars because he didn’t know better. Raine and Ruella had been convinced that Pan was fundamentally damaged; when he spoke fondly of Mars, he was echoing false ideas. They pressured him to join them on their return.

Maybe they were right. Maybe Pan was too far outside any normal social behavior to know how unusual, how warped he was.

Quin said, “You can do whatever you want Pan, go wherever you want. There’s no wrong answer. Trust yourself.”

Allec didn’t speak. Folded in Quin’s arms, he smiled to himself, then raised his eyes and winked at Pan. If Pan told Allec what he was thinking, Allec would know that Pan wasn’t depressed or lacking in self-esteem or whatever. He didn’t hate himself. Being warped might simply be what Pan was.

But Quin had the capacity for total acceptance when it came to those he loved, which is why they loved him back.

Sandy returned to the apartment shortly after Allec and Quin departed and immediately nested beside Panfilo on the large futon. Panfilo set his head on Sandy’s chest, legs splayed at cross angles.

Easy physical contact was one thing Panfilo preferred about Anthros. Anthros could have their forests and oxygenated air and tales of derring-do. Still, Pan liked the platonic or asexual or whatever-it-was easy physical contact.

He said, “I should go back, shouldn’t I? To Earth.”

“We want you safe,” Sandy said.

“I’m more of a target on the station.”

“More potential assassins on Earth.”

Not precisely comforting but Sandy made the comment judiciously.

“Do you think I should go?”

“Queen Artia will be sending you an official invitation.”

“The assassin comes from her confederation.”

“She’s disavowed his actions. Queen Artia is an important personage for—”

Sandy paused, which hesitation—since it was Sandy—came across as contemplative rather than wishy washy.

“For Anthros,” Panfilo said. “If I really am one.”

“I’ve never liked labeling insiders and outsiders,” Sandy said mildly. “Sentient beings should know better.”