The First Days

[Meatslopper]

Chapter One: Hearing 

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Esme remembered the vibrations of her mother's footsteps, the drum of the Imperial Doctors finger upon his notepad and the visual stimulation of a flow of gestures a moment ago that formed a basis for her understanding of language. She knew other people talked differently, the light taps on the shoulder, the silent motion of lips, she could read then if she focused but the mere fact she needed to focus, set her apart from those around her. It wasn’t unusual at this point, she’d gotten used to how she’d been treated. Her Father often led her by the arm, as if she was blind, not deaf but she deeply appreciated his guiding hand. She knew it wasn’t to last. The moment she’d fallen into an inky blackness might be the last time she truly perceived the galaxy in her own way but… she wished to hear it as they do, to feel a part of their world, not just her own. It did not occupy her thoughts in motion but on those days where she was set adrift on her own, without a guiding hand and her thoughts spiralled, threatening to consume her, she found an overwhelming curiosity, to see the vague, invisible lines that tethered the world around her. To be lost in their flow. 

She was deep in her thoughts when a tap on the shoulder drew her eyes.

'Listen.' Her Mum signed, her kind smile warming her. 

'I am.' She lied.

'It’s important.' 

She watched the Doctor, he was a prim and proper Imperial. He had slender but noticeably sharpened features, his stern blue eyes watched her with disappointment. She smiled awkwardly and nodded, as if to appease him in conversation. He translated as he spoke.

-hope that they will meet the needs of your family, out of respect for your decision to serve the Empire. 

“I do agree.” She answered flatly. She’d been told her voice was monotone, a single tone, dry like ash, depending on how cruel the intention. 

She’d run this scenario a hundred times over, even now she felt her nerves flutter. She hoped she hadn’t revealed it in her voice, her body language? She’d never been all that good at lying, always wondering what gave it away. What if they didn’t work? What if she felt no differently, would it have been worth it, just to know it all wasn’t within reach. 

I just need to inject this, you won’t feel a thing. The doctor signed, as he held a large mechanical injector. 

“Well I’m ready, I’m alright,” Esme assured.

She felt his hand, she felt herself tense, and then she felt the cold steel and the jab that followed. It was slow and sure, but with it her control was taken from her and it felt strangely alright. She fell quietly into darkness looking for a guide. She didn’t dream. As the shadows wavered and returned her to reality, her vision dancing, her thoughts hazy and a cold wind drew across her flesh, there was the vibration of a door opening, it’s mechanism stabbing at her as she understood it but she didn’t hear it, or if she did, she didn’t understand what sound was like. By the time she had entirely come to she was still being signed at, still being asked to define sound, to define if she heard and her family stared at her expectantly. They awaited that single recognition of sound, a moment of immense joy, of immense wonder and amazement, she’d looked for, for so long. She found nothing or nothing she could recognise. 

'Give a thumbs up if you hear this.' The doctor signed, as he adjusted her implants. 

The frigid steel of her cybernetics felt odd upon her flesh, the itch upon her lips, her foot twitched, as she sat. She wasn’t sure and she was expected to answer. She gave a tentative thumbs up to please them. It sent her Parents up in arms, they seemed overjoyed, happy and comfortable and for once she lied well, she lied that she knew, but the Doctor looked at her and saw through that lie. 

'You’ve been through a lot, come back in a few days and we’ll fix any problems.' 

Her Dad took her arm and led her from the temporary field hospital and led her out into the snow. The day on Orsus was frigid, the white blanket of snow lay as far as the eye could see, across the top of a million broken buildings, their glass shattered and cracked by war. The planet was broken and she knew it would take years to heal. It had brought it upon itself by its refusal to surrender, she surprised herself, that thought took on a more oppressive shape than she imagined, she dismissed it, wishing that it hadn’t come to this and that the Empire would have extended leniency and thought to long term development.

It was strange how quickly she fell into her thoughts. It helped push back the disappointment from her first session with the cybernetics.

The earth rumbled with footsteps, she felt the vibrations as Imperial Soldiers hurried by in a jog, sure of their direction. There was something else. Esme clutched at her head, as something overcame her, a slight tingle, a drift that poked inside her mind and she glanced up suddenly to something she had not seen, a Speeder. It was hovering by. She glanced quickly at her Parents, both looking with concern in their eyes.

“Are you alright?” one said, as she looked to watch her lips and gestures.

Esme found her tears spilt freely. 

Something touched my ears, like… a vibration, a… She couldn’t describe it.

The Speeder. Her dad signed reflexively, his eyes wide. You heard it, didn’t you?

She heard it. She heard it! She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t even know how or what or what she heard, sure it was the Speeder, but what noise did it even make? It drove into a skull buried itself inside and that moment of awareness stabbed at her. It kept stabbing at her, so she listened, eager for more and more. 

The instance she got “home” she found herself in front of a mirror.

“Es-may.”

“Es-mee.” 

“Es-me.”

Every time she said it, she felt it, Esme. It was her name and no matter how many times she sounded it out, it felt strange between her lips, wonderful yes, but so very strange, the sounds they made, a soft hiss curling pushed from between her lips with a gust of air and an affirmative thump, projected bluntly. The cybernetics formed connections she could never dream of herself, they turned every distant gust into a hurricane, one that expanded, expressed itself beyond her own mind. 

“Hi.”

“Hi!”

It pleased her immensely, the sharpness of the phrase. She gleefully adjusted herself in her chair, as she went to speak again more distant whispers started to appear. The thing called sound, it awoke her through her bones, they quaked, as a million things beyond her vision started to roar, the cacophony thumped around her and as it died, as she clutched at her implants, each one firing a dozen sparks into her mind again, it left her with a far softer, a far more distant tune.

It was hard to make out the words, she barely understood what she was hearing anyway but it was sublime. 

She listened and was lost in their flow. 

“The herald-prophets sing…”

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