Ganymede originally thought she knew everything there was to know on the topic of gender, since much of her town and most of her family had made such a point of making sure she understood it. What she had understood was that the first thing that was known about a pup from their birth was their gender, and this helped the pup’s parents to know how to raise their child. Men were to focus on strength and leadership, while women were to focus on beauty and positivity.
Dal-Sun gave Ganymede an overview of gender that was entirely different from how she understood it. There were more than two genders, and one’s gender wasn’t determined by physical characteristics, but instead by something more spiritual and harder to pinpoint, something they couldn’t be certain of until they were older. Also, though different genders might be associated with different preferences, ultimately gender provided no restrictions on who a person could be–a person’s identity was determined wholly by the person.
Ganymede wasn’t sure she was fully capable of believing everything Dal-Sun had told her–after all, her hometown’s views of gender were integral to her understanding of nearly all aspects of living, and she doubted that she could change that understanding without major components of her worldview crumbling into nothing. Still, she liked the idea that her distaste in dresses and socializing did not make her a failure as a woman. She realized the lack of restrictions would also be freeing to all of her friends back in town, making it easier for them to get in touch with the parts of themselves that were truly unique, the parts she had always wanted to bring to the surface.
When Ganymede asked whether to refer to Dal-Sun as “he” or “she”, Dal-Sun told her that she could use either, or that she could make something up. However, this line of thought led Dal-Sun to point out to Ganymede that she should refer to Martim as “ze”, since Martim was something other than a man or a woman, as well. (Ganymede did not mention that she thought “ze” was supposed to be a nickname of sorts.)
This conversation illustrated to Ganymede just how vast the world was outside of her home. What Ganymede had taken to be a very simple, but very essential, aspect of one’s being had expanded in directions she never would have conceived of on her own, and it was seemingly taken for granted as fact among her new companions. She wondered what other basic elements of life might shift and change right before her eyes. Maybe it would extend to the physical realm, as well. Maybe she could create fire with her paws. Maybe she could breathe underwater.
Maybe she could go to the moon.
She hadn’t forgotten her desire to go to the moon, but it occurred to her that she had spoken very little with the others about it, considering it was the main subject bringing the group together. To some degree, it was to be expected, since her head was still full of thoughts of leaving home and what it would mean for her, and the others would talk with her about this as well. But Ganymede felt that part of it might be that she was actually somewhat afraid to talk with the others about the moon.
After all, she didn’t have a choice one way or the other. What if she talked with them about it and they decided she actually wasn’t good enough for it after all? If there were any disagreements of any sort, where would she even go?
But then there were moments like Dal-Sun talking with Ganymede about gender. Moments where Ganymede felt like maybe everyone else just had a more informed stance on the world and its wonders than she did, and that they would teach her about all of them in due time. They would tell her about the moon, too, eventually, and how they planned to reach it. And she was excited to hear about it.
Ganymede knew the way to reach the moon was by making connections. The connections she was making now were already expanding her world so much, and presenting her with possibilities she had never dreamed of before. And soon, she would be making connections with so many more people who had the potential to expand it even more. People from all across the world, people who were all trying to reach new places like she was.
And the group’s next destination would be the best of any place Ganymede had been to make connections like that.
“Ravensholme,” Dal-Sun said, turning to face Ganymede and spreading her arms. “Biggest city in the country, a mecca for travelers, and our base of operations. Hope it’s to your liking.”
Ganymede took in the full view surrounding her. It was big and colorful, but mostly it was dense.
They were in what looked to be a city square, the ground covered in bricks, various stalls set up around the perimeter. Beyond the stalls were buildings, taller than any Ganymede had seen before. There were decorative flags and banners everywhere, even going over their heads, so that no matter what direction Ganymede looked, she could see the city’s presence there.
And there were people everywhere. There were people perusing the stalls, people walking from one end of the square to the other, in all directions. People were brushing past Ganymede’s group every couple seconds or so, even though the four of them were standing in a relatively unobtrusive spot. The air was full of talking, laughing, shouting, all the banter that one could expect from a large gathering like this.
But what really struck Ganymede was the variety within the people.
There were mammals, birds, reptiles, and amphibians. There were species she’d never seen before. Even among her own kind, the canines, there were species she had never seen in her own town, like dholes, maned wolves, and painted dogs. Even within the same species, there were people of all fur tones, shapes, and sizes, some with different accents from others.
There was so much life in this city, filling all senses, filling all directions. And while the splendor of it was exciting to Ganymede, she couldn’t help but recognize that this is what her own hometown refused to be–this was the same level of life that her hometown refused to allow inside its own borders.
Her hometown had insisted on being small and quiet, just as it had insisted she be, herself.
Dal-Sun clapped her paws together. “Well, should we go meet with Nicholas now, or should we rest a bit first?”
“Let’s not leave Ganymede in suspense,” Arya said. “I imagine she’d like to know what direction her life is going from here. Isn’t that true, Ganymede?”
Ganymede nodded. She would have agreed more verbally, but it was very noisy and she didn’t enjoy raising her voice just to be heard.
Martim scratched zis chin. “I’m kinda hungry already, and I doubt I need to be there for initiation. Can I just meet up with you later?”
“Don’t you want to be present to celebrate a new member officially coming into our group?” Arya asked.
“Yes, the celebration that takes place after all the boring legal stuff,” Martim responded, pointing to her. “Let’s not mistake paper-signing for celebration itself.”
Arya sighed. “Every part of the process is equally an important part of it, and equally worth celebrating. But ultimately I think it should be up to Ganymede. What do you think, dear?”
Ganymede stumbled. “Um, I don’t know, I would like someone to be with me because I don’t know how this works, but… it doesn’t have to be Martim, if… ze… doesn’t want to.”
“Sweet, I’ll catch up with you later,” Martim said, pumping zis fist and immediately entering into the crowd. Ganymede watched as zis head, still taller than most of the rest, slowly made its way to the corner of the square.
Arya sighed again. “I think ze has ‘friends’ around here. The black market kind.”
Dal-Sun readjusted her pack. “Well, it pays to have connections. And whatever Martim has access to will help us, too. In the meantime, a celebration is better if it’s full of people who aren’t talking about how boring it is, right?”
“Yes, I agree, I just wish ze would take things more seriously sometimes.”
Dal-Sun lightly punched Ganymede’s shoulder and winked at her. “Don’t worry, we’ll stick with you. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“Thank you,” Ganymede said in her normal speaking voice, which might as well have been no sound at all with all the noise happening around them.
When the others had told Ganymede that they would be taking her to the Lunite headquarters, Ganymede had imagined the building would be similar to the town center she knew from her hometown, where the town council would meet. That building was large, with storage rooms for various town documents and records, different rooms for processing different matters to do with the law, and several meeting and gathering rooms. She assumed that a headquarters for Lunites would need at least that much room to host all the different kinds of activities they must need.
Instead, Ganymede was surprised when Arya and Dal-Sun took her to a building that was no bigger than a standard shop. Not just the exterior, but the interior, as well, with most of the space filled with shelves for merchandise, with a shopkeep’s desk near the entrance. In this case, though, instead of merchandise, the shelves held various books and folders, and the person at the desk wasn’t selling anything.
Dal-Sun stepped up to the desk, causing the old muskrat there to look up from her book and crease her eyebrows. “Oh god, it’s you,” she said.
“Hello Candace, we’ve come to speak with Nicholas.” Dal-Sun didn’t seem to be phased by Candace’s comment, keeping a bright smile on her face. “Is he in today?”
“Yeah, he’s here, go on in. Please.” Candace returned to her book.
“Thanks Candace.” Dal-Sun started walking to the back of the building, indicating that the others should follow her.
“Where is everyone?” Ganymede asked as she walked.
Dal-Sun turned her head back to look at her. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“You said there were hundreds of Lunites. Where are they?”
“Oh, they’re not here,” Dal-Sun said, raising her eyebrows at Ganymede. “They’re all in different places around the world. Traveling. Like us!”
“Oh,” Ganymede said. Dal-Sun said it as though it was obvious, and given her example, it probably was. But something felt off-putting about this fact to Ganymede, though she couldn’t give voice to what it was, partly because she was nervous about what was going to happen when she met Nicholas. Would she be accepted into the group? The others said it was a definite thing, but was it?
They arrived at a closed door, which Dal-Sun tapped with her knuckle. “Come in,” came a deep voice from inside, and Dal-Sun opened the door, revealing the supposed unofficial leader of the Lunites.
Nicholas was a lion, with a wide, well-groomed mane, a strong face, and body to match. When he stood from his chair, Ganymede saw that he was still shorter than her, but even so he was still definitely taller than most others. His body was bulky, but she couldn’t tell whether it was with fat or with muscle, due to the stiff suit hiding the curves of his body. He spread his arms and said, “Dal-Sun!” his voice booming even though he was speaking at normal volume. Dal-Sun walked forward with her own arms spread, and they embraced. “How are you, my fine fellow?” Nicholas continued.
“I’m doing great, how are you?”
“Just fine, just fine,” Nicholas said, patting and then releasing her. “And Arya, it’s good to see you as well.” He looked towards Ganymede. “And who do I have the pleasure of meeting here?”
“Did you get my last letter? This is Ganymede, and she’s come to join the Lunites.”
“Ah, yes, Ganymede! How wonderful!” He spread his arms out again, this time in the direction of Ganymede, though fortunately not because he seemed to want a hug, but because he was presenting her as though she was some gift that had appeared on his doorstep. “Yes, yes, Dal-Sun spoke very highly of you, I’m so glad to meet you at last. And so glad to hear that you’ll be joining us! Come, come, sit down, sit down.”
They all found chairs and sat as he commanded them, including Nicholas himself. “Yes, so… I assume we want to get right down to business and go through the interview process?” Nicholas asked.
“That’s the idea,” Dal-Sun said. “Are you ready to do that now, Ganymede?”
“Yes,” Ganymede muttered. Ganymede wondered if this was what job interviews felt like, and then wondered how anyone managed to qualify for a job if they were feeling as nervous as she did, if they also felt like their very lives were on the line.
“Very good,” Nicholas said. “Well… Dal-Sun shared some details with me, but I don’t have the full picture of you yet, and I’d like to hear it in your own words. Would you tell me more about where you come from, what brought you here, what your skills are, and what you know about the moon?”
Ganymede swallowed. This was so much pressure.
Ganymede shared as much as she was able to share, though she wasn’t confident that she expressed herself very well. She stuttered and repeated herself more than was usual for her, and though she did her best to describe years’ worth of dedication to studies and work, the way she phrased it sounded like barely anything even to her. She wondered if she had forgotten something major, even though her racing mind couldn’t think of what it could possibly be.
Nicholas leaned back in his chair, paws gripped together, two padded fingers touching his chin. He seemed to be giving his own thoughts great consideration, with more care than Ganymede was giving her thoughts. Ganymede felt as though she had nothing, and was begging to someone who had everything, someone who had no reason at all to give her any consideration.
“So I want to make sure I understand this correctly,” Nicholas finally said. “Nearly all of your understanding of the moon comes from myths and children’s stories?”
Ganymede felt like she had been punched in the gut. “Not all of it,” she managed to say. “Our school science books talked about it a little, but it was only… it wasn’t anything having to do with getting to the moon, I thought I had to look elsewhere for that.”
“Of course, of course,” Nicholas said. “No, modern science still assumes that reaching the moon is impossible, so of course we can’t limit ourselves to just that. But we have studies from independent researchers that provide more information on the subject. And of course we have a multitude of examples of people trying to reach the moon in the past, and what they learned from their efforts. You aren’t familiar with any of those?”
Ganymede was silent. She racked her brain to think of anything that might fit what Nicholas was describing, but she couldn’t.
“Nicholas, give her a break,” Dal-Sun suddenly said, her voice more serious than usual. “She comes from a backwater town that probably throws out any books that don’t agree with their worldview. That wasn’t her fault. She did the best she could with what she had, and she did a lot with that.”
“However much she did with it, if I may speak perfectly bluntly, my point is that she was practicing things that are of no relevance to us,” Nicholas said. “I’m sure it was admirable in its own right, but even if she figured out how to transmute dirt into gold, that wouldn’t do anything to help us get to the moon.”
“But she is capable of learning, and incredibly dedicated to it, is what I’m trying to say. Whatever she doesn’t already know, she’ll pick it up quickly.”
“Uh-hm,” Nicholas hummed. “And how well did she do in school, again?”
Ganymede felt as though she’d been punched again. Which in turn reminded her even more of school.
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Dal-Sun said, now standing up from her chair. “What about me, Nicholas? What about how well I did in school? Where I came from? Are you gonna say that shit to my face, right now?”
“Don’t project yourself onto this, Dal-Sun, I’m not talking about you,” Nicholas said calmly. “You familiarized yourself with all the skills necessary to fit well with our organization well before you came to any of us. If anything, I am merely asking that Ganymede put in the same kinds of efforts that you did.”
“You don’t do that with anyone else here!” Dal-Sun waved an arm towards the door. “How many people came in here not knowing anything about the moon, and we took them in anyway!?”
“Of course we have a place for everyone, and I’m not saying Ganymede is not qualified to join the Lunites. She may join if she wishes.” Ganymede felt some relief at hearing this, but the tone of the conversation still made her nervous, wondering if she was still about to fail somehow. “What I’m saying is that you spoke of Ganymede as though she had the skills necessary to join our researchers or ambassadors. I can say with certainty that she does not.”
“I can say with certainty that she does,” Dal-Sun said, her paws now on Nicholas’s desk. “You just need to give her a chance.”
“Ganymede, you said you had experience with logging,” Nicholas said, turning his attention away from Dal-Sun and back to Ganymede. “What about mining? Do you think you could do that?”
“Are you kidding me!?” Dal-Sun was now yelling. “All her potential and you want to just stick her in that deathtrap of a position!? Just bury her in some hole in the ground!?”
“Don’t disrespect our miners,” Nicholas said sternly. “Their work is still important, and we are all grateful for it. And we keep them perfectly safe, as much as we’re able.”
“Cripes, Nicholas, I’m trying to tell you that I am willing to take a chance on her. Put her on our team. We’ll show her how everything works. And with enough time, she’ll show you how much she’s capable of, and you’ll see how big of a mistake you’re trying to make right now.”
The room was quiet for a moment. Nicholas considered Dal-Sun with a strange look on his face.
“You’re not usually so eager to take in newcomers,” Nicholas said. “What’s going on here?”
“What’s going on here is that she’s different,” Dal-Sun said. “Like I keep trying to tell you. Do you trust my judgment or not?”
Nicholas stared at her for another several seconds, then finally sighed. “I do,” he said. “I do trust you, and if you believe in her that strongly, I’ll put her on your team. I take it that Arya and Martim are okay with it?”
“I am,” Arya said. “And so is Martim.” Ganymede wasn’t sure what Arya was thinking, given her silence and neutral appearance during the interview, but she was glad to have this support from her, at least.
“I will need to speak with Martim later to verify that, of course.” Nicholas pulled a sheet of paper out of his desk drawer and handed it to Ganymede. “Here’s our membership form. If you go out, fill this out, and return it to me, we’ll go over the specifics of what it means for you to join Dal-Sun’s group. Until then, I will be speaking with Dal-Sun and Arya about their next job. So go on out, we’ll speak later.”
“She can stay, too,” Dal-Sun said. “She’s part of our group now, she needs to hear this, too.”
“She is not part of your group yet,” Nicholas said. “She will be, once she submits the form and we process it, which will take some time.”
Dal-Sun grimaced and scraped her claws on the desk. Then she turned her head to face Ganymede. “Ganymede, sweetie?” she said, her teeth still clenched. “Are you okay with waiting outside until we come get you?”
“Um,” Ganymede said, awkwardly getting out of her chair and moving towards the door. “Yeah. I think I’ll be okay.”
“Okay. Sorry about this. I promise we’ll be quick. Just sit tight, sugar, we’ll work this out.”
Ganymede made some noise of acknowledgement in her throat and stepped outside, softly closing the door behind her. She walked to a chair near the front desk and sat there, trying to process everything that just happened.
Though Ganymede had vague fears that she might be rejected, she had been hoping that it wouldn’t be true. Dal-Sun had made it sound like she would be welcomed with open arms, like she would be joining a community of like-minded people who were eager to have her there. Instead, she had been met with what she usually expected whenever she had met with new or unfamiliar people in her hometown: scrutiny.
She looked at the paper she now held in her paws, full of lines and boxes intended for measuring and categorizing the nature of her passion for the moon, her entire life’s worth. She had her own relationship with the moon, the same as anyone did with any other person, and it didn’t feel right to try to summarize it on this page, limiting it to answers to the specific questions it had for her. But she had no other choice.
As she thought on this, thought about the moon and the nature of relationships, she realized why it had felt so strange to her that the Lunite headquarters was so small and empty. After all, she knew that the way to get to the moon was by making connections, by forming relationships with other people. She had assumed that an organization of people trying to get to the moon would feel the same way, and would all be gathered in this one place, talking with each other, getting to know each other better. Getting to know everyone in this huge city. Instead, all these people had been brought to this place by their passion for the moon… and then they were all separated from each other, sent to different places. Different cities, maybe even different countries.
It felt wrong, it felt counter-intuitive. These feelings were made stronger by the encounter she had just had. Even though Nicholas had said that there was a place for everyone, she felt like the whole purpose of the conversation had been to make her feel barred, excluded. Again, not different at all from her hometown, which didn’t even believe the moon could be reached.
“That goat is a real piece o’ work, huh?”
The voice startled Ganymede out of her thoughts, and she looked up at the desk, at Candace. “Who, Dal-Sun?” Ganymede asked.
“Yeah, that one,” Candace responded. “I could hear the shouting from over here.”
“Oh. Um.” Ganymede tried to think of what to say, and decided to focus on a particular piece of the comment that was bothering her. “Dal-Sun says she’s a goral, not a goat.”
“Eh, he says a lot of things,” Candace said. “He’s caused a lot of problems around here, I wouldn’t trust ‘im as far as I could throw ‘im. Though, hell, maybe I can throw his scrawny ass farther than I think.”
Ganymede stifled a shudder. Dal-Sun had been nothing but kind to her, she didn’t want to think of her as untrustworthy. But then she remembered her mother’s comment that people would often pretend to be something that they’re not. And she remembered her uncle saying that an outsider would lie for the purpose of luring her somewhere she didn’t need to be. And then she thought about how Dal-Sun had set expectations that not only didn’t fit with her own experiences, but had just turned out to be false.
Then she shook her head. Nothing else Dal-Sun said had been a lie, as far as she could tell. Nicholas just said that he trusted Dal-Sun, himself, enough to override his own original decision. And again, Dal-Sun had been kind to Ganymede, in a way that she actually felt was sincerely kind, not like the “kindness” that had often been shown to her by friends and family. Dal-Sun’s kindness reminded her of Jess’s kindness, and Jess was the most trustworthy person she knew.
Ganymede rubbed her forehead. Why did people have to be so complicated? And why did people create more complications by choosing not to trust each other, instead of working together with each other, working to try to understand each other better? She didn’t really know Dal-Sun well enough to say exactly how trustworthy she was, but she decided that if Dal-Sun was willing to take a chance on her, she’d be willing to take a chance on Dal-Sun.
“I like Dal-Sun,” she announced. “She’s been nice to me. And Nicholas says he trusts her, too.”
“All due respect to Nicholas, sometimes that man doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground,” Candace said. “He’s done a lot of good work for sure, but good lord.”
“Arya and Martim seem to like Dal-Sun, too.”
“Oh, Arya’s lovely, and she’s good with everyone. Martim, eh… he doesn’t have a lot of sense sometimes, either, but it’s his bad past, I think. He’s a good kid otherwise.”
“Ze,” Ganymede corrected.
“‘Ze’?” Candace looked up from her book to raise an eyebrow at Ganymede, then nodded and returned to her page. “Oh, yeah, yeah, ze, yeah.”
Ganymede considered Candace. Dal-Sun reminded her of Jess, but somehow, this woman reminded her of her mother. Quick to judge, slow to trust, and apparently resistant to accept how others presented themselves. A representation of the same initiation process Ganymede was going through right now, perhaps.
Ganymede had failed to connect with her mother. At some point in her life, she had effectively stopped trying to do it, but she had always meant to return to it later. Now, though, she felt like she never would. She had wondered if she had already broken down her last chance to form that particular connection; a harrowing thought, considering she would need to know how to make every kind of connection she could possibly make in order to reach the moon. But maybe this connection she was forming now, to the Lunites, was like a second chance. Maybe if she could figure out how to do this, someday, she could go back and repair her relationship with her mother.
In spite of her nerves, she felt herself reconnect to her confidence. She would make friends with Candace someday, and help Dal-Sun make friends with her, too. But not now, not yet. First, she would build connections with those who were easier to build connections with, like Dal-Sun. Once she learned more about those easier connections, she would come back and build harder ones. But right now, she had only one small obstacle left to overcome today.
“Do you have a pen I could borrow?” Ganymede asked.
“No,” Candace said.
