She saw everyone’s startled looks.
“I beg your pardon,” she said. “Obviously that is an elven superstition, and besides which you are, in the main, men. You do not have any masculine attributes that could be compared to other men’s: it would be ridiculous if you did, since you could have only the most minuscule difference between one man’s attribute and the other.”
“What do you mean by miniscule?” burst out Commander Rayburn, and at Captain Woodsinger’s sharp look he said: “Ahem. No. Sorry, sorry. Totally inappropriate question for a student. But I’ll have you know, young lady, those rumours aren’t true.”
“I don’t understand,” said Serene.
“You know, she makes a good point,” Elliot said. “Generally and without specifically thinking of anybody in particular at all.”
“Is there some kind of taboo against seeing a woman’s breasts in human culture?” asked Serene. “Breasts are functional. They feed children. Whereas I know many men cultivate their shoulder and abdominal muscles merely to attract the opposite sex. Their chests are the ones that are more decorative and which it is less modest to display!”
“You know, she’s making another good point,” said Elliot.
“Both of you stop,” Luke urged, his arms now wrapped as tight around his chest as Serene’s were about hers. “The commander is going to think you’re crazy.”
“Sing it, cadet,” Commander Rayburn muttered. “Sing it loud.” Captain Woodsinger coughed, and he looked guiltily at her. “Don’t let this happen again,” he said. “Your job is not to question orders but to obey, and we have already permitted Cadet Chaos-of-Battle enormous liberties in her studies.”
“I strongly object on principle,” said Elliot, and Luke elbowed him viciously.
Elliot understood why, even: the threat that they could take back last year’s leniency and force Serene to choose between war and council training was fairly obvious. But these people were meant to guide them and teach them, were meant to be fair and not show obvious double standards because it was easier to do that than to question what they were thinking and change how they behaved.
“If you do not obey, there will be consequences. There should be consequences for your behaviour today, but”—Commander Rayburn again caught Captain Woodsinger’s eye—“I’m prepared to be lenient this once,” he finished feebly.
“I will obey,” said Serene, pale and determined.
“Yeah,” said Luke, just as determined. “We’ll obey. None of us will go down to the lake again, and none of us will appear in a—in a scandalous state of undress again.”
“That’s right!” Elliot exclaimed. “We’ll have a lake boycott.”
The commander and the captain did not seem to care about the lake boycott. They were sent away, and once they were out Serene stopped abruptly in the dark outside Commander Rayburn’s cabin and sat down on a dank grassy hillock. Elliot sat down beside her, and Luke sat on her other side. Luke put his arm around her, and Elliot rested his cheek against her naked back.
“The way,” Serene said, after a pause, her voice fierce so it would not shake, “they looked at me. As if my skin were sin, and theirs never could be, and I should have known.”
“They’re jerks,” said Luke.
“I’m sorry,” Elliot whispered.
He meant more than sorry for the others: he meant sorry for himself as well. He’d looked too. Stared, for an instant forgetting who she was and what she meant to him. He’d been a jerk as well, and Serene was so unhappy.
“Told you the lake sucked,” Elliot muttered, and Serene laughed a small broken laugh.
“It’s the eppy tomb of suck,” Luke said.
There was a pause. “The what?” Elliot asked.
“The eppy tomb,” said Luke. “I read it in a book. It means, like, the very definition of—”
“I know what it means,” said Elliot. “And it’s pronounced epitome.”
“Leave it out,” Serene said. “I know you men must squabble, but not right now, okay?”
“Yeah,” Elliot sighed, oddly comfortable even though he was sitting out on the grass at night, already chilly, and still angry. “Okay.”
They all sat together in the cool darkness of the night, silent for a little while. Serene’s hair blew into Elliot’s eyes, black ribbons against a black sky.
“I realize this is hypocritical, and I do apologize. I have been struggling against it and trying to keep my composure as a lady should,” Serene said at last. “But I am in an emotional state, and I must admit I do find myself somewhat uncomfortable in such close proximity to an unclothed gentleman.”
“Yeah, Luke, you shameless hussy,” said Elliot, and cackled.
They did not go down to the lake again. Instead on their days off they spent time in the fields around the Border training camp. Sometimes Luke and Serene wanted to do weapons practise or a sport, and Elliot sat in the grass and read a book. Sometimes Luke made Elliot do exercise, which was simply bullying and he should be reported. Sometimes Elliot told stories or read aloud or sang to Serene and Luke, and sometimes they lay in the long grass and got into vicious arguments about the shape of clouds. Nobody ever took their shirt off, by silent mutual agreement. The others would come back from the lake wet and flushed and happy. Elliot wasn’t the least bit jealous, but he wondered if Serene and Luke were.
Fourteen wasn’t horrible, but it was more complicated, and sometimes that felt like the same thing.
Naturally the authorities, in their infinite wisdom, had decided that now they were all tiny pressure cookers of hormones it meant they were “ready to become men.” Or in Serene’s and Adara’s and Delia Winterchild’s and the other girls’ case, women.
The way to do that was apparently more military manuevers and weapons training, with a view to taking the second years on their “first skirmish” soon. “You know,” Elliot said loudly and often, “just a mini battle.”
So all the fourteen-year-olds could be just a tiny bit killed.
The first step was a foray to mining land in which the Border humans hoped to find gold, and which the Border guard thus planned to claim as human territory.
A troop of those in war training was sent, but since Serene was going Elliot petitioned to be allowed to go as well. Elliot presumed he was permitted to go because he had made such a powerful and inarguable case for himself, though he also heard Commander Rayburn mutter “the brat will just stow away again or do some other awful thing, why not just let him go and shut him up? Can nobody shut him up!”