Adrian wasn't entirely sure why Bruno wanted to see him. That, by itself, was enough to make him suspicious. He stepped into Bruno's office and found the bear behind his desk, one broad hand resting beside a terminal. The chair opposite him was empty. Adrian took it.
Sitting down had become easier. Not because chairs had changed. Adrian had discovered that tails were considerably less inconvenient once you stopped sitting on them. This sounded obvious. It had not been obvious six days ago.
He lowered himself into the chair and, without thinking, shifted his tail through the gap between the backrest and the seat. Then he stopped. Looked down. The tail rested comfortably behind him.
"Huh."
Bruno looked up. Adrian gave the tail an experimental flick.
"I didn't sit on it."
Bruno's gaze moved from the tail to Adrian. It remained there a second longer than seemed necessary.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Bruno returned his attention to the terminal. Adrian had noticed that look before. Usually when he misjudged a movement, reached for an ear after it moved on its own, or discovered something about his tail that apparently should not have required discovery. He wasn't sure what Bruno made of it.
Probably nothing good.
Six days.
Apparently that was enough time for parts of this to start becoming normal.
Not normal.
Less aggressively strange.
There was a difference.
He still occasionally caught movement in the corner of his vision and thought something was behind him before realizing it was his own tail. He still woke with hair in his mouth. The bra had gone from an object requiring active resentment to something he could put on without examining it like unfamiliar machinery. That development bothered him more than the bra had. And breasts—
Adrian shifted in the chair. Still there. Still weird. Less weird than last week. He wasn't sure whether that was better.
Bruno finished whatever he was doing before turning the terminal slightly away.
"I contacted a specialist regarding yesterday's assessment."
Straight to business. Adrian nodded.
"Did they know what Daven found?"
"Not exactly."
"That's promising."
"They knew enough to want to examine the results themselves."
"The fire thing?"
"Among other things."
Reinforcement, at least, Adrian understood. It was common enough. Strengthening the body with magic. Soldiers used it. Athletes used restricted forms of it. Adrian had known people with minor Reinforcement affinities. He had never been one of them.
Apparently now he was.
That alone should have been absurd. Instead, it had somehow become the understandable part.
"So what happens?"
"Three representatives are coming here tomorrow."
Adrian blinked.
"Three?"
"Yes."
"For an assessment?"
"For a lineage consultation and welfare review."
Adrian stared at him.
"That sounds significantly more official."
"It is."
Something about Bruno's tone had changed. Not dramatically. He was still the same Bruno who had found him clothes, arranged somewhere for him to sleep, and answered more questions than Adrian could count. But there was a carefulness now that hadn't been there before. A little more space between each answer.
A little less willingness to fill silence. Adrian wasn't sure whether he imagined it.
"Who are they?"
"Vaelari."
Adrian waited. The word meant nothing.
"Should I know what that is?"
"No."
"They're Aniels?"
"Yes. A particular people. Their origin is off-world, although there are established communities on Earth."
"Okay."
Bruno stopped there. Adrian waited.
"So why are they coming here?"
"Daven believes part of your arcane profile may be associated with their lineage."
Adrian looked down at himself. White hair had fallen over one shoulder. He picked up a strand. Then glanced at the tail behind his chair.
"You think I'm Vaelari."
"That appears likely."
"Because of all this."
"Among other things."
"Very scientific."
"The assessment was considerably more scientific than that."
Adrian let the hair fall.
"So that's what I am."
"Possibly."
"Helpful."
"It's more than we knew yesterday."
That was true. Adrian folded his arms. The position felt wrong. He adjusted them slightly lower. Better.
He realized what he'd done only afterward. That was happening more often. His body was becoming easier to inhabit. He wasn't sure he liked the phrasing his brain had chosen for that.
"Daven called me something else."
"White-Line."
"Right."
Adrian looked at Bruno.
"What does that mean?"
Bruno was silent for a moment.
"I've been specifically asked not to speculate about that with you."
Adrian stared at him.
"What?"
"I don't have sufficient knowledge of the lineage."
"You were told not to tell me what being white means."
"That is not what I said."
"Sounds suspiciously like racism."
Bruno looked at him. Nothing. Adrian waited. Still nothing.
"That was a joke."
"I know."
"You don't look like you know."
"I understood it."
"And?"
"I chose not to reward it."
Adrian almost smiled. Almost.
"Seriously."
"Seriously, I don't know enough about it."
"But they do."
"Presumably."
"And they told you not to explain it."
"They told me not to speculate."
"That sounds different in a way I'm probably not going to enjoy."
Bruno didn't answer. Adrian sat back. His ears moved. He felt them this time. Back slightly.
Annoyance. Apparently his body had decided facial expressions were insufficient and added several supplementary channels. He tried to relax them. One moved. The other didn't.
Bruno's gaze flicked upward. There was that look again. Adrian ignored it.
"So what do you know?"
"They're rare."
"How rare?"
"I don't know."
"Rare like one in a hundred?"
"I don't know."
"One in ten thousand?"
"I said I don't know."
"Right."
Adrian looked toward the window. Outside, Bellwick continued being Bellwick. A delivery vehicle passed along the road beyond the CSA grounds. Someone in a reflective jacket was moving crates. Farther away, steep roofs rose between trees. Normal. Everything outside this office looked offensively normal.
"So they're rare. I'm probably one of them. And instead of sending you an email, they're sending three people."
"Yes."
"That seems excessive."
"I agree."
Adrian turned back. That wasn't the answer he'd expected.
"Did you ask for three?"
"No."
"Did you ask anyone to come here?"
"I asked for a qualified lineage specialist."
"And got?"
"A delegation."
Adrian frowned.
"That's a different word."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"You talked to them."
"I did."
"And they didn't explain?"
"They asked considerably more questions than they answered."
That sounded familiar.
"What kind of questions?"
"Where you were found. Whether you were alone. Whether you speak their language. Whether you've demonstrated specific forms of magic. Whether you know your House."
"My what?"
"House."
"Like where I live?"
"No."
"Good. Because that one's currently easy."
Bruno didn't respond. Adrian sighed.
"What kind of House?"
"I don't know enough about their social structure to explain it accurately."
"You really weren't kidding about the not-speculating thing."
"No."
"Who did you actually speak to?"
"A senior representative."
"Senior how?"
"Senior enough that I documented the conversation."
Adrian stared at him.
"That sounds ominous."
"It means I documented the conversation."
"That sounds like the professional version of ominous."
Bruno's expression remained flat. Adrian was beginning to suspect the lack of reaction was intentional.
"What did he look like?"
That finally made Bruno pause.
"Why?"
Adrian shrugged.
"I don't know."
Until now, Vaelari had been a word. So had White-Line. He wanted something more concrete.
"Human-form," Bruno said. "White hair. White ears. Pale gold eyes."
Adrian touched the skin beneath one of his own eyes. Amber. At least according to everyone else. He had stopped checking mirrors every time he passed one. Mostly.
"So like me."
"Similar."
That felt stranger than Adrian expected. For six days, every reflection had shown him something impossible. Now there was apparently someone else out there who looked enough like this for Bruno to make the comparison without hesitation. People, plural. A whole people.
Adrian looked at the white hair lying across his shoulder. He wasn't sure whether that made things better.
"What did he say when he saw the assessment?"
"He asked questions."
"And when he saw me?"
Bruno didn't answer immediately. Adrian noticed.
"He saw the intake photo?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"The call was transferred."
"To him."
"Yes."
Adrian frowned.
"So whoever you contacted saw my picture and immediately called their boss."
"Essentially."
"Why?"
"That's one of the questions I'd like answered tomorrow."
That was fair. It was also deeply unhelpful. Adrian shifted in the chair. His shirt pulled differently across his chest, and he tugged it down automatically. His hand stopped on the fabric. Again.
He'd done it without thinking. Bruno's eyes moved away. Professional. Adrian let go of the shirt. His body was apparently learning how to be itself considerably faster than he was.
There was probably something profound in that. He wasn't interested in finding it.
"So what exactly happens tomorrow?"
"They arrive. If you agree to meet them, they review the available information. They may request additional assessment."
"Request."
"Yes."
The word stood out. Adrian looked at him.
"And if I don't want to?"
"Then you don't."
"That's it?"
"Legally? Yes."
Adrian caught the qualification.
"And otherwise?"
Bruno leaned back slightly.
"I think you should hear what they have to say."
"That's not the same thing."
"No."
"And if they want more than an assessment?"
"We deal with that when they ask."
Adrian studied him.
"You think I should go with them."
"I think you should know what they're offering before you decide anything."
"That's very diplomatic."
"It's accurate."
"Not an answer."
Bruno was silent for a moment. Then he folded his hands on the desk.
"If they can establish what you are, provide documentation, help you understand your magic, and offer somewhere safe for you to stay while this is investigated..."
He paused.
"Then yes. I would consider that a better option than remaining indefinitely in temporary CSA accommodation in Bellwick."
There it was. Adrian sat back.
"So you want me gone."
"No."
The answer came without hesitation. Then Bruno reconsidered.
"I want this resolved."
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
"That's a very professional distinction."
"It is."
"And convenient."
"Also yes."
Adrian hadn't expected him to admit that. Bruno continued before he could respond.
"You're not being removed from this facility. You're not being transferred into anyone's custody. And nobody is making that decision for you."
"But you think there's an obvious answer."
"I think there may be a sensible one."
"That's dangerously close."
"To what?"
Adrian gestured vaguely.
"'You can decide for yourself as long as you make the correct decision.'"
For the first time, Bruno looked faintly irritated.
"That isn't what I said."
"Not yet."
A short silence followed. Bruno's expression settled again.
"If you decide not to go anywhere with them, the CSA will deal with that."
Adrian watched him.
"But?"
"But I won't pretend your current situation is sustainable because that would make the choice feel more neutral."
That stopped him.
Bruno gestured once toward the room around them.
"You have no legal identity we can verify. No permanent residence. No access to your own finances. We don't know your medical history. We don't understand your magical profile. We don't know who held you or whether they're still looking for you."
Adrian's tail had gone still behind the chair.
"And now," Bruno continued, "we have people who may be able to answer at least some of those questions."
"So you think I should listen."
"Yes."
"And if they tell me I should go with them?"
"Then you decide whether their reasons are good enough."
Adrian looked at him for several seconds.
"And if you think they are?"
"I'll tell you."
That, somehow, Adrian believed.
"But the decision remains yours."
There was nothing particularly comforting in Bruno's voice. It wasn't meant to be comforting. It was simply a fact. Adrian found he preferred that. Nobody had asked before the van.
Nobody had explained anything in the laboratory. Things had happened to him. Around him. Inside him. By the time he understood one thing, someone had already begun the next.
Tomorrow, three strangers were coming because of him. Bruno was telling him today. That shouldn't have mattered as much as it did.
It did.
Adrian sighed.
"Okay."
Bruno waited. Adrian looked down at his hands, then at the strand of white hair lying across one of them. Vaelari. White-Line. Lineage.
House. Apparently all of those words meant something. Just not to him. He could keep asking Bruno questions Bruno couldn't answer, or he could wait until tomorrow and ask the people who supposedly could.
"Whatever happens, happens."
Bruno's expression tightened slightly.
"I wouldn't recommend approaching it quite that passively."
Adrian looked up.
"I'm not being passive. I'm being temporarily out of questions."
That earned no reaction.
Of course it didn't.
Adrian leaned back.
"Tomorrow they'll come here. They'll explain whatever all of this means, and then I'll figure out what to do with it."
"That would be reasonable."
"Good."
His stomach chose that moment to growl. Loudly. Adrian closed his eyes.
"Seriously?"
"You've eaten?"
"Twice."
"What?"
"Breakfast."
Bruno glanced at the time. Adrian sighed.
"This body is financially irresponsible."
"You have meal access."
"I know."
"Use it."
"I have been."
"Then use it again."
Practical solution. No sympathy required. Adrian stood. His tail moved out of the way of the chair before he consciously thought about it. He noticed.
Of course he noticed. But this time he didn't stop. At the door, he looked back.
"So. Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow."
"Three Vaelari."
"Yes."
"Who apparently care very much about what color I am."
Bruno looked at him. Adrian raised both hands.
"Not making the joke again."
"Good."
Adrian opened the door. For the first time since waking in the laboratory, someone might actually be able to tell him what he was. Until then, there wasn't much point trying to solve it himself. Vaelari. White-Line.
Whatever those things turned out to mean, they'd still mean them tomorrow. Adrian stepped into the corridor. Behind him, Bruno's office door closed.