Part 6: Sat Round the Fire, Sang Like a Choir

 

“Thank you, Saos" Mae said, as the AI on the other line disconnected, leaving her to take in the news.

Mae threw herself onto the sheets beneath her, sinking into the rich red fabrics that filled the bed's white painted skeleton. Bland cream hotel walls boxed her in. Broken only by a small electronic display on the wall in front of her, and a quaint, modestly sized window still wet from the morning rainfall.

“At least we kept our jobs." Came a small voice to her right.

Toby sat on a metal desk at her bedside. He leaned against her lamp, while he synced his yutri to the hotel's display.

“But the cancellation is troubling, Toby. What if it's some sort of punishment?"

One hand came to rest next to him, as the other reflexively gripped a pillow. Thankfully, all of his injuries from the other night had healed, and he was free to enjoy himself again. Once more, he looked up at her with those reassuring eyes. And once more, they worked wonders on her.

“Relax. Saos told us it was weather, and I believe her."

Toby placed a single tender hand onto her knuckle to calm her down. She returned the physical affection with a soft stroke along his arm. It felt great to have finally broken that wall down, yet she couldn't fully enjoy it with the same old things haunting her mind.

“But they can't just have you sit here and rot. How will you fill your time?"

Mae never thought she'd miss the afterparties, but without them or a show Cal-Gea had essentially him boxed in like a pet. She needed to bring him out of the hotel somehow. Contract or not, nothing seemed crueler to her than not trying at all. Though Toby seemed to have come up with something already, and he was itching to tell her.

“I thought you'd never ask! There's something I wanna share with you, actually. Would you mind indulging me, just this once?"

Mae's tail flickered against the bedding, as she sat upright. Straightforward as he tended to be, Toby was still a human. And humans were strange little creatures full of strangely large ideas. “What do you have in mind?"

Toby hit a button on his yutri's interface, and the syncing process was complete. Soon, the central display came to life with his hopelessly cluttered music library. With the proper subscriptions in play, a yutri could stream or download lossless audio from nearly any song ever recorded. Toby seemed to have done just that. Not that she was surprised.

“Mae. You curious about human music?"

“Very curious." She keened, entirely earnest. “There's just been so little time to try it, is all."

“Perfect. Hold on a sec." A very satisfied Toby told her, as he optimized the display's speakers.

Human music might well have been the most fascinating of any race. They'd invented percussion, like everybody else, but their tiny bodies and poor hearing forced some very creative solutions. Toby's bass guitar easily stood with other species' instruments, and that was only one of what must have been hundreds. An earful of some more was not a prospect she would refuse.

Her bandmate idly scrolled through hundreds of human albums. Their cover art alternately dazzling, mortifying, or just outright terrible. The one he settled on featured a decrepit human home in a desert. Its orange hue painted a stark contrast with the bright blue sky. Above and below it lay black stripes that sported unreadably messy English text.

“So, what is this?" She dragged her eyes away from a very alien cover to the very alien man next to her fingers.

“This." He began, pointing her back to the screen in dramatic fashion. “Is 'Diesel and Dust,' released a long fucking time ago by a band called Midnight Oil. Lots of history behind this one. I dunno where to start, honestly."

'Midnight Oil.' Strange name. There was a bit of a sensual feel to it, though if that was due to lacking cultural context or her hermaphrodite genes acting up was anyone's guess. Still, considering that she'd only heard of this album a moment ago, she hardly had any pre-planned questions about it. She had plenty to ask about Toby though, and that was her 'in'.

“Why not start with yourself?" She queried, sweet almost to the point of being saccharine.

“Myself? What do I have to do with anything?" Toby raised an eyebrow.

He didn't comprehend her line of questioning. That wouldn't do. “Well, you must have some history with this album if you're playing it for a ra'lai like myself. I'd love to know it." She crossed her legs and grinned.

Toby shrugged, humble as ever about her interest in him. “It's pretty simple, sorry to say. My dad liked to put this on for me when I was a kid. Hadn't heard it in years till I went and found it again, while I was browsing. That's pretty much it for the personal stuff, I guess."

His childhood, his father, he never talked about things like this. Him even mentioning them was something to write home about. Never mind how adorable listening to something he loved as a child sounded to her. “I see. What about the rest of this history?"

Toby took a deep breath and crossed his legs like she did. It seemed he had a pocket history lesson prepared for her. “Do you know what Australia is?"

The way he said it made it sound like common knowledge for Terrans, though her embarrassed whine made it clear to him that she hadn't. “Fuck, how do I-“ He muttered, hands pressed to his face to heal from the shotgun blast of doubt that hit him.

Toby bit back his griping and cleared his throat. “Alright, so humans had colonies too. Other countries instead of other planets like everyone does nowadays. So we'd go across the ocean into bits of land that we hadn't discovered and claim them as our own. Following me so far?"

She nodded. Primitive landlocked expansion was far from the most out there thing she'd heard about humanity. Though she had a gut feeling that that something far more insidious lay behind that history.

“I'm cutting out tons of shit, alright, but those countries? They already had people in them. Millions of them, and they'd been there for thousands of years. The Aboriginal people, as we called the natives in Australia. We-" He paused.

His clear disgust made her jittery enough as is, so she was certainly not looking forward to the rest. “We tried to wipe them out. Didn't succeed, but ever since then the Australian government's been taking land from them, relocating them, all kinds of awful stuff. I've got no clue how things are after the invasion, but shit like that doesn't fade overnight."

“Horrible." She choked out.

There were plenty of words to describe what she'd just heard, but horrible definitely fit the bill the best. Every species in the Union had its tragedies and atrocities in their history. Humanity was no different, and, as she'd just learned, had been no less disgusting.

“So, centuries pass. The music scene develops in Australia, and, eventually, in come Midnight Oil. Now these guys, they actually toured the Aboriginal communities, saw the squalor they were in, and put an album out to bring awareness to it. And that's why we have 'Diesel and Dust'."

Mae tapped a finger on the desk, trying to let it all sink in. People, names, and places she never knew existed. Instruments she'd never heard before. Perhaps whole styles of drumming only naturally doable by humans. An opportunity to hear all of that, and maybe get to know Toby a bit more by proxy, it was the stuff dreams were made of.

“We can listen to something else if this stuff is too heavy. It's fine." He assured her, summoning that calming aura once again.

She tried to do the same when she responded, with mixed results. “No, no, I can handle it. I may need you to speak to me between the songs, so I can follow along. But I'd love to listen to this with you."

She felt remarkably silly, but Toby looked delighted. “No problem. Right, you ready?"

She nodded. “Ready."

~~

“This first track is called 'Beds are Burning.' Now this one, famously enough, is about returning land to the Aborigines. Land rights were one of the huge issues they put themselves behind, so there's gonna be some stuff in there about Australian flora and fauna you won't latch onto."

“Seems like a bit of a heavy topic to start with." She pondered.

“Well, the offer still stands." He frowned.

“And I still refuse." She doubled down, pride very present. “No backing out. I'll have to keep what you told me in mind, that's all."

She knew the references might be a problem going in, but this was music made for Terrans, by Terrans. She had no qualms with being a bystander in those circumstances. Toby had a hand over the play button. The speakers on the display had been calibrated for optimal music playback. He was as prepared as he could ever be.

“Thanks. I'm gonna hit play on the count of three, alright? One, two, three!"

~~

The track began with a blast of some strange instrument that sounded like metal woodwinds. A strange whooshing gave way to the proper groove soon after. The drummer kept things simple and effective: A kick drum hit, followed with a punchy snare. The song drove on with a chugging bassline that snagged her ear, until the lead singer made his entrance. She couldn't tell if his voice was accent or affectation, or if she even liked his delivery yet. But its mix of in-tune and croaking was immediately attention grabbing. Even if the lyrics were a tad too Terran for her to fully understand.

Out where the river broke

The blood wood and the desert oak

Holden wrecks and boiling diesels

Steam in forty-five degrees

Toby's description of the subject matter came to light during the pre-chorus. Backing vocals topped with a metronomic clanking in the background gave the urgent demanding lyrics the punch they needed.

The time has come

To say fair's fair

To pay the rent

To pay our share

The time has come

A fact's a fact

It belongs to them

Let's give it back…

After a few more metal woodwinds and a brief flirtation with clanging drums, the chorus came in. The use of 'Earth' struck her right off the bat. To humans at the time, it would have sounded universal, but to a non-human it only further isolated the track in the culture it came from.

How can we dance when our Earth is turning?

How can we sleep while our beds are burning?

How can we dance while our Earth is turning?

How do we sleep while our beds are burning?

The time has come

To say fair's fair

To pay the rent, now

To pay our share!

The proceedings lead back into the main groove quite nicely. The simple drumming kept her moving through a verse less comprehensible to her than the first. She very much enjoyed the track thus far, which was a personal relief to her. She didn't want to deal with the emotional turmoil of hating her first strong dose of human music.

Four wheels scare the cockatoos

From Kintore east to Yuendemu

The Western Desert lives and breathes in forty-five degrees

From there the track trod along, repeating the chorus and pre-chorus until it had been firmly lodged in her head. The drummer did sneak in a personal touch or two. A clanging, echoey fill. A few high sounding bits of percussion she had no name for. All little things that reminded her that a human was behind the kit. Those same harsh lyrics ended the track, pained and cutting as ever. Despite the repetition, their power never faded. They were words that bore repeating.

How can we dance while our Earth is turning?

How do we sleep while our beds are burning?

Despite the melancholy of the lyrical content, the song stayed danceable and upbeat throughout. The band even managed to build to a triumphant finish after the final chorus. Leaving Toby to pause the auto play and give them time to talk.

~~

“So, how'd you find it?"

Mae tapped her fingers atop the bedding as she tried to think of the right phrasing. She didn't manage it by the time her mouth fell open. “Everything about it was so Terran, but I liked it."

“Terran." He acknowledged her. Toby seemed to understand, but she still felt some explanation was in order.

“Rhythms we hardly play in with ra'lai music. So many strange instruments. The names and places they sung about. The voices singing them. They were all so Terran. So wonderfully, mysteriously Terran."

“You want me to demystify it a bit? Tell you what all the instruments are called?" Toby laughed softly and gave a playful nudge to one of her fingers.

“Definitely!"

He went on to explain some fascinating things to her. The finer details of Terran drum kits. Guitars, electric and acoustic. Keyboards, horns, even things like 'violins' for future reference. Fascinating stuff all around. Though it did leave her with one overhanging question.

“Toby. Of all those instruments, why did you pick yours?"

“Oh? That's easy." He answered. “Bass, it's the only instrument you really feel, you know? Plucking those strings, feeling the vibrations. Couldn't keep my hands off it once I picked it up."

“You do so love using your hands."

Toby fell silent, flexing and stretching his fingers as he lent them his dejected stare. “I have a confession, Mae. You mind?"

Mae didn't refuse him. She appreciated him being so forthright, despite the dire expression that overtook him.

“The tactile feedback, I need it. It's why I can't use a mech. I need to feel something, or else I freak out. I tried sims for neural controls, but that was even worse. I just- I can't look down and see hands that aren't mine."

Much as it hurt to hear, it all made sense to her. Humans had some of the best hands in the Union, relatively speaking. Rivalling the tordenchi and ashar for their sense of touch. Toby had his quirks, but it seemed these Toby-isms she so lovingly catered to had consequences he still struggled with. It still frightened her, but she would bear the burden of carrying him over and over if she needed to. Still, the sudden transparency made her curious.

“Why are you telling me this?"

Toby chuffed, idly patting on her thumb with a wandering hand. “It's like I said, no more bottling things up. If something pops in my head, I'll say it till the cows come home."

“Thank you." Mae told him with bottomless gratitude.

“No problem." Toby tutted. “Christ. One song in and the baggage is coming out, huh? This'll be fun."

~~

“Track two. 'Put Down that Weapon.' Right, so how much do you know about nukes?"

“Nukes?" Mae's head cocked, perplexed.

“Nukes!" He shouted performatively. “Nuclear weapons! Rynar invaded for them! All that shit."

“Well, I knew that!" She insisted. “I know that they ended one of your larger wars. I think I heard something about a nuclear winter, but that's as far as my knowledge can take me."

“Thought as much. If you have any questions after the song's over then I'll bring you up to speed. You ready?"

~~

Jangly electric guitars flowed from the speakers. A steady drum and bass groove took over, much like the previous track. But this one wasn't quite the pick-up in energy she expected. It was laid back, a lot more downbeat and guitar driven. The lead singer's vocals were much more of a whisper that showed off some more of his range. But still, she didn't know if she liked it yet.

Under the waterline

No place to retire to another time

The eyes of the world now turn

The pre-chorus came in, following on nicely from the first verse lyrically, while the singer turned his whisper into a quiet anger.

And if we think about it

And if we talk about it

And if the skies go dark with rain

Can you tell me, does our freedom remain?

Mae's mind was abuzz with thought once she heard the chorus. 'Complicated' was the way that humanity's relationship with nuclear weapons had been described to her. Hearing art describe it reinforced that. The lyrics were a plea, a warning, and a fearful lament all at once. The thought of planet locked humans living with these emotions was mortifying.

Put down that weapon or we'll all be gone

You can't hide nowhere with a torchlight on

And it happens to be an emergency

Some things aren't meant to be

Some things don't come for free

The track took a small instrumental break. Mae shut her eyes and let herself fall into the music. Her leg kicked along to the kick drum all on its own. Her ears were caught once again by those pointed Terran terms, but she could still feel that relationship between these places and images. The talk of seas, ships, and all of it being destroyed because they couldn't put the weapons down. Their specificity brought the song some weight, and as she soon realized, its appeal.

Above the waterline

Point the finger, yeah. Point the bone

It's the harbor towns that the gray metal ships call home

And if we think about it

And if we talk about it

And if the sea goes boiling black

Can you tell me what you'll do about that?

The track entered a second chorus, much like the first. The lyrics slightly changed, though the overall feel and sentiment remained the same. She did at least have more time to appreciate the finer points of the percussion. Those cymbals, as Toby described, enhanced the track quite a bit.

Put down that weapon or we'll all be gone

I must know something to know it's so wrong

By the end of the chorus the track threw itself into a blistering bridge. The drums took on a militaristic march, guitars blazed, and the lead singer's panicked whisper became an impassioned shout. It was enough to make her jump, much to Toby's amusement.

They keep talking about it!

They keep talking about it!

They keep talking

They keep talking and talking…

Then the beat returned to normal, cool and controlled as it ever was. By the time the chorus repeated for the fourth and final time, she couldn't doubt its content. Art bred exaggeration, but it could capture an emotion better than any dry words on a page ever could. The entire band worked in tandem to sell the fear and hatred of these weapons that could so easily destroy them.

Put down that weapon or we'll all be gone

You must be crazy if you think you're strong

Cause it happens to be an emergency

Some things aren't meant to be

And some things don't come for free…

~~

“Any thoughts?"

“'We'll all be gone'" Sadness crept into her voice. “Is that how it felt for you?"

Toby sighed, as he made eye contact. “Kind of. I dunno if I can really explain it."

“You've done well so far." She gave him a very light jab on the shoulder with a fingertip, urging him to explain himself.

Hearing her say that brought the ghost of a smile on his face. Though it faded as quickly as it came. Perhaps it wasn't fair to ask him such broad questions about the human collective consciousness. But he tried, and she would always appreciate it.

“It was way worse before I was born. But if somebody dropped a nuke on someone else, then that was it. No planets to travel to, nowhere to hide. The bombs would drop, and everyone'd be dead. Just like that. God, thinking about how close we came, what the Rynar did to try and take them, it- “

He took a pause to regain his composure. He was still a little bit scared, despite the lack of danger he was in. The fact that the Rynar could have had those weapons became all the more terrifying now that she was given a glimpse of what they'd done to humans culturally.

“Let's just say, I'm glad you guys showed up when you did. Everything they talked about in the song, you saved us from it. Thank you. Thank you so much."

Gratitude painted itself across his features. Though she wasn't quite close enough to fully appreciate them. She planted a few tender strokes along his back with uncanny ease. He did seem to enjoy the affection, but she removed her fingers before long. Overwhelming him wasn't on the cards today. Even after everything they'd been through, humans could still find reasons to smile and laugh. Seeing it in action was a beautiful thing.

~~

“So 'Dreamworld' is about old legacy buildings being torn down in Australia. Places that must have been there for years, standing one day and gone the next."

Toby sounded significantly less enthralled with the subject matter than he did with the last two tracks. Mae didn't blame him. “Quite a strange departure from the first track, I'd say." She responded listlessly.

“Is it, though?" Toby bounced back, “They're sure as hell not giving the land back to the natives, so it fits."

“Very true."

Mae couldn't argue with that. Perhaps it was a bit of a shame to see things like that go. Even if she'd always been more willing to burn the past than fight to keep it. Despite that, she still wanted to give the track the honest chance it deserved.

~~

Her ears were assaulted by a pulse pounding guitar. Backed by an oscillating bassline and propulsive drum beat that gave the track energy Mae greatly enjoyed. The vocals bore more life and fire than they ever had before. It was like the angriest geography lesson she'd ever had, and it brought a huge smile to her face.

The Breakfast Creek Hotel is up for sale!

The last square mile of terra firma gaveled in the mail

So, farewell to the Norfolk Island pines!

No amount of make believe can help this heart of mine…

The song had some real sway to it by the time it hit the chorus. The bassline drove behind the jangling guitar chords, meshing into something equal parts ethereal and angry. Ghostly backing vocals punctuated the lead singer's gleeful, declarative hook.

End… Your dreamworld is just about to end! (End…)

Fall… Your dreamworld is just about to fall! (Fall…)

Your dreamworld will fall!

A playful kick drum brought the second verse in. This drummer, his play was quite similar across these three tracks, so much so that anything he did to spice up the proceedings always caught her ear. Even in the most powerful track yet, he was still quite subtle. She admired that.

So, shut that buckle and turn that key again

Take me to a place they say the dreaming never ends

Open wide, drive that mystery load!

Walk through Eden's Garden and then wonder as you go

The chorus remained unaltered, but, much like the last track, the band entered a bridge that completely changed the pace. Empty and downbeat, until the keyboard swelled behind the vocals. Some part of the lyrics managed to resonate with her. The need to keep old buildings wasn't one she related to, but that fear of the inevitable was something she could understand.

Sign says 'honeymoon to rent'

Cloudland into dreamland turns

The sun comes up and we all learn

Those wheels must turn

The energy kicked back in for another recitation of the chorus. However, Toby broke the immersion with, “Oh Mae, here's the best part!"

Toby clenched his fists in excitement. From his behavior, Mae expected some massive change like what happened in 'Put Down that Weapon'. Instead, they were greeted with more chorus.

“Spoke too soon!" He laughed.

He'd been so hard on himself and his perceived failings lately. Seeing him fail a cue like this and crack up about it was a definite comfort. She could appreciate some levity amongst all the vicious ness. The moment he was anticipating happened not long after. With the lead vocalist sounding utterly gleeful, as he jeered over the beat.

Atatata!

Fall, fall, fall, fall, fall!

Your dreamworld is just about to fall!

A heavier guitar came in, punching its way through with a similar slide to the bass. The drummer added plenty of aggressive clangs and clanks, creating a truly chaotic finish. Toby was having a much better time of it. He pantomimed playing his bass as he jumped around on the desk below him. Soon enough the song faded out, leaving him lucid enough to feel flustered. She was tempted to tease him, but the temptation to gush was much more prominent.

~~

“Oh, Toby. I loved that one! Such energy to it. And that drummer of theirs!"

Toby was stunned, but he seemed quite happy to hear it. “You like the drumming? Thought you'd find it too simple, considering the shit you have me playing along with."

Mae slid back onto the bed, uncrossed her legs, and lay flat atop the sheets. Her gaze met the ceiling, wistful and vacant, as she collected herself into something coherent.

“Well, first I thought he was keeping it simple, but I was wrong. He's holding back. He could probably do all the aggressive stuff I do, but he chooses to add little bits that make things more interesting. Like a sleeping giant."

Toby smacked a hand over his lips, stifling a laugh. “Bit of a loaded term, Mae."

It was then that Mae realized the irony, and promptly shrunk back in embarrassment. “Can we move on, please?"

~~

“Alright, 'Arctic World', this one's about, well- Uhh."

Toby let out a long, beleaguered sigh. “This one flew way over my head. Sue me."

“Really?"

Curious, the tip of her tail tip of her tail tapped against the bed. He had promised to tell her all there was to know about these tracks, and yet even he was stumped by them sometimes.

“I mean, I can tell you about the title. The Arctic's the one of the coldest places on Earth, right at the top of it. Other than that? We're up shit creek."

“Well. I hope this song doesn't leave me feeling cold." Mae deadpanned, stone faced against her satisfaction with the wordplay.

“Fucking hell." He snickered.

Toby must not have wanted to dignify the pun by laughing. Considering that she'd only been speaking English for a few years, Mae counted that as a small victory in and of itself.

~~

'Arctic World' was a complete shift in formula. The descending bassline, subtle guitar strums, and glittering keys all sold a mellow, nearly lethargic, atmosphere. But the percussion was what won Mae over. The little clicks, pulses and chimes weren't the least bit flashy, but they fit. This was what ice and snow sounded like to her. Every bit as cold as the beautiful winter weather she grew up with.

I don't want to grow anything in my heart

And I don't want to write all these things in the sand

And I don't wish to listen and not understand

And I don't want to tramp up the footpath of stars

The track trod on into the chorus with some lonely notes from the bass. The lead vocalist sounded so fatigued and longing, and so unlike the past few tracks. She'd made up her mind about him at last. She liked him. She liked him quite a bit.

Don't want to be an advocate

Don't want to be a monument

There is nothing that grows in your arctic world

The 'violins' that Toby mentioned were what stood out to her the most. Even without the years of culture that must have surrounded this instrument, their regal keening was intoxicating to her. The lyrics of the second verse had her stumped, which was only fair. If Toby couldn't figure it out, then she had no chance.

I don't want to breathe that Smithsonian air

And I don't want to listen when they toll the bells

Cause I can't take another industrial feast

On the ground, on my back

Out there

The violins returned. Following the melody of the bass so fluidly that she may never have noticed if she weren't paying such close attention. Contrast was an important part of these songs. Whether it be melodic chiming guitars over, pounding drums and bass, or beautiful perfectly played violins backing quite an imperfect lead singer. Every song sounded so much fuller to her because of it.

I want to meet the president

Of a country without sense

There is nothing that grows in his arctic world

I tell you there is nothing that grows in your arctic world

Ahh, there is nothing that grows in this arctic world

The track kept going after the vocals stopped. Violins and piano dissolving into whistling wind instruments that meandered until Toby stopped the track. It sounded like there was going to be a crossfade into the next track, which she would have enjoyed. Some things had to be sacrificed for their little talks, sadly.

~~

“So, what'd you think?"

“That might be my favorite so far!" Mae chirped. “All those little bits of percussion, the keys. It all felt so icy, so cold. It was like I was there out in your arctic. It almost felt a bit homely."

“Homely?" Toby asked her, still not seeming to follow.

“Like the ice and snow where I grew up. It sounds silly saying it out loud, but if it had a sound, it sounds like this. Yes, it's small. But so full of beautiful little things." Just like humans, she added in her head.

Toby reclined further onto the lamp behind him and shrugged. “Really? I never liked this one, honestly. Glad it clicked with you, though."

Mae hummed. It was strange how much the two of them could differ on things like this. Though she figured that was just one of the things that made him fun to speak to.

“Agree to disagree?"

Mae held out a finger in her best approximation of a human handshake. Toby gripped it lazily, shaking up and down with an exaggerated reverence.

“Agree to disagree."

~~

“'Warakurna' was actually the name of one of the communities they visited on their tour. I think this one's about that experience, actually. Meeting people, making amends, and giving the land back, of course."

“Odd how we're revisiting this topic after four songs." She joked.

“You've gotta think about variety, though. Split up your topics, or else your stuff all sounds the same." He told her in defense.

“Good point. But, I'm surprised that your father let a child listen to music about such serious topics. He must have trusted you."

Mae knew that children could be more perceptive than adults gave them credit for. Sometimes a child could see and do things that no adult would think to. Even then, songs about land rights and nuclear war didn't strike her as very child friendly.

“Ah, Dad didn't know what any of it meant." He laughed, “Hell, I think mum thought 'Beds are Burning' was about sex!"

“You're making that up!." She cackled in disbelief.

He had promised not to lie to her, but the thought was just too ridiculous for her to buy it.

“No, no, swear on my life! She always made dad skip it cause, 'Little Tobias shouldn't be listening to suggestive songs.'" His voice picked up an amusingly high pitch, as he mimicked an elderly woman's voice unsuccessfully.

“And look where little Tobias ended up!" She cooed, as she reached over towards his body.

Mae showered him in affectionate pets along his back. Toby blushed and shooed her away. “Alright, alright! Lemme start the track before we're too caught up in the love fest."

~~

The guitar line introduced the song with a relaxed atmosphere. Though she managed to catch something that no other part of the album had so far. Seven strong beats. 7/4 time. The warbling bass and punchy drumline kept the track in motion, but the high end of the keyboard lent it a relaxed feel. Unlike the other songs, the initial lyrics gave the theme of the track away immediately.

There is enough…

There is enough…

For everyone (There is enough…)

In Redfern as there is in Alice (There is enough…)

This is not the Buckingham Palace! (There is enough…)

The 7/4 guitar riff from the intro returned, warm and soft as ever. The band had pulled so much out of their instruments already, it was a wonder that they hadn't run out of new sounds by the time they entered the bridge.

This is the crown land

This is the brown land

This is not our land

Some folks live in water tanks

Some folks live in red brick flats

The track entered a second verse not long after. No chorus yet. The band had almost completely thrown out the structure they'd built from the previous songs. It had freshened this track up for her significantly. Even if the lead singer's delivery was still stuck in a similar range to 'Arctic World'.

There is enough…

The law is carved in granite (There is enough…)

It's been shaped by wind and rain (There is enough…)

White law could be wrong (There is enough…)

Black law must be strong

Then the melody from the bridge returned, backing vocals transforming experiential words into something anthemic.

Warakurna, cars will roll

Don't drink by the water hole

Court fines on the shopfront wall

Beat the grog and save your soul

The contrasts this album was so enamored with took center stage during the chorus. She even picked up on a change to 6/4 time, which she really appreciated as a drummer. Rhythm changes or not, the song still felt cohesive to her.

Some people laugh

Some never learn

This land must change, or land must burn!

Some people speak

Some people yearn

This land must change, or land must burn!

Guitars played the 7/4 melody from the beginning, and the drummer responded with some pomp and flash of his own. All leading up to a chilling moment that everything except the kick drum left for.

Diesel and dust is what we breathe

This land don't change and we don't leave

And yet the chorus was triumphant as ever.

Some people live

Some never die

This land don't change, this land must lie

Some people leave

Always return

This land must change, or land must burn!

Mae didn't find much to latch onto in the brief verse that teed up the final chorus, but the last lyric made Toby involuntarily shudder.

Ahh Warakurna, camels roam

Fires are warm, and dogs are cold

Not since Lassiter was here

Black man's got a lot to fear

~~

“What did you think of that one?"

Mae thought it over for a second. She loved the feeling of hope, the lyrics, the time signature changes. It could have been her favorite song in another life, but she still had her fixations set elsewhere.

“Interesting. Though, I think I still like 'Arctic World' more."

“Huh. 'Arctic World?' Better than 'Warakurna?'" Toby was stunned.

“Not better, necessarily." She corrected, “But 'Arctic World' still has my heart."

Toby shrugged again. “Interesting. The atmospheric stuff just isn't my thing, I guess. Blame Dad for that too."

His father. This was three times Toby had mentioned him now. Three more times than she'd ever heard Toby mention him before. Mae would have loved to know more, and perhaps he was finally in the mood to talk. “If you don't mind, I'd like to hear more about your parents." She requested, not meaning to impose.

“How come?" He quizzed her. “Figured they'd be the least interesting thing we talked about today."

Mae felt a little pang of sadness. He really didn't realize how interested she was in him. It was odd how little they'd talked about their pasts. They knew each other, they just didn't know about each other, and that definitely needed to change. “Well, there's a friend of mine I met not too long ago. His name is Tobias Declan Waugh. He's so dear to me, I can't stand to think of life without him. But I know so little of his history. Who he was before he came into my life and filled it with such amazing joy. And, as long as he's willing, I would like to change that here with you."

She paused to look at him, hands in her lap and smiling. Toby, to her elation, cleared his throat. “Not much to say really. Grew up in a place called Bath, always hated it. Started playing bass when I was in secondary school. Mum and dad? They tried. Didn't know what to do with me half the time. We haven't spoken in years, though. Not since I moved here."

“Oh, I'm sorry Toby. I know how that feels. My family-" She strained to say, before Toby interrupted her.

“Mae, stop. You're trying to force it. You can take your time with telling me this stuff. It's OK."

Mae was aghast. “But Toby, you're telling me so much. And I haven't told you a thing!"

It was true that Mae didn't entirely want to tell him of her past just yet, but it was only fair. Yet Toby didn't seem to think so? If she were closer, he might have tried to calm her with his touch. Yet he settled for words instead. “And I'm alright with that. Do I wanna know more? Sure, but it comes out when it comes out. Whether it takes five minutes or five years, it'll be fine. I don't give one. We just have to wait till it feels right."

Mae felt some measure of relief. She still needed to tell him, but he was right. She was better off taking his advice and going at her own pace. “Thank you, Toby."

Toby's cheer didn't last when he saw the title of the next song. He had the mortified face of someone staring at a disaster they'd forgotten to prepare for.

“Oh shit."

~~

“'The Dead Heart'. This one- They called them the Stolen Generations. They stopped not too long before this album came out, but the Australian government, they'd send agents over to the native's settlements. The agents talked to the kids, saying anything to get them to come over. The next day, they were gone, cause the fuckers stole them and shoved them into foster homes."

“What? Why?" She cried.

“They called it 'protection.' The real answer? They thought they knew better, thought the parents were too stupid and backwards to raise their own kids. So, they tried to 'civilize' them. Makes me sick."

She didn't know how to respond. She kept trying to internalize it. Stealing children. Their parents never seeing them again. She could hardly wrap her head around it. In the end, both of them stayed dead quiet. He opted to start the track, and wordlessly seethed with disgust.

~~

The song started with tense, driving drum and bass contrasted by the acoustic guitars. A heavy synth cut in once or twice. The sound of it made her shake whenever she heard it. Catchy, wordless backing vocals caught her ear. It was hard not to join in. Absolutely none of it prepared for what the lead singer spat out next.

We don't serve your country, don't serve your king

Know your custom, don't speak your tongue

White man came, took everyone

We don't serve your country, don't serve your king

White man listened to the songs we sing

White man came, took everything

The whole band sung along during the chorus. Mae felt a lump form in her throat. For once, she understood every word. It wasn't just 'Terran' anymore. It was tragic. No amount of phrasing could separate her from the empathy she felt.

We carry in our hearts a true country

And that cannot be stolen

We follow in the steps of our ancestry

And that cannot be broken

Mae put a hand over her mouth in shock. Words fell out of Toby's mouth, but she could barely hear him over the thoughts darting through her head. There was no running from the sting of those lyrics. This was only a glimpse into something truly horrific, yet it hurt like a blow to the gut.

We don't serve your country, don't serve your king

Know your custom, don't speak your tongue

White man came, took everyone

We don't need protection, don't need your hand!

Keep your promise on where we stand

We will listen. We'll understand…

The music resolved into another tense synth. Those lyrics stretched on and on, sung with such pain and grief. Even if she couldn't ever truly know what those people went through, she was left trembling all the same.

We carry in our hearts a true country

And that cannot be stolen

We follow in the steps of our ancestry

And that cannot be broken

We carry in our hearts a true country

And that cannot be stolen

We follow in the steps of our ancestry

And that cannot be broken

Mae lost all focus. She couldn't see Toby anymore. The music had become white noise. Friends, children, brothers, sisters, all of them gone overnight. Never to be seen again. She felt weak imagining it. Those people waiting every day for their family to come home. Waiting for someone that would never come back.

Like the sister she missed so dearly.

Mae collapsed with grief. She twitched and convulsed, head buried in the pillow. Sobs pulsed through her body as years of pain surfaced. She could hardly even breathe. All until she felt two careful little hands touch her nose. Toby. He was there, stroking her, soothing her with everything available to him. Slowly, the tears receded, and he came into focus. The sound of his willowy voice, his gripping alien scent. Her vision was still wet and hazy, but the sight of his orange hair and little brown eyes was unmatched. He was there, calming and overpowering all at once.

She'd never told anyone about Ko'eliis, since she left home. Toby said that the confessions could wait until she felt right, but he could keep her calm, and this was as 'right' as it was ever going to feel.

“I had a sister."

Toby fell still, his clothes still wet with her tears. When she was sure that he'd taken it in, she continued, “She was like me. Half breed, hermaphrodite, and mother hated us both. She'd yell at us, scratch us, call us hideous. She fed of off pity and conflict, so she'd- She kept trying to make us fight for her love. One day she- I…"

Toby held the bridge of her snout, stroking it, as he whispered little reassurances to her. She was left with a warmth inside her. She may not have been able to continue if not for his touch. “Me and Ko started arguing. I don't even remember what for, but she cried all night. And then the next day she… she… she ran away. She ran away, and I never saw her again!"

Mae's tears nearly flooded her senses again, but him just being there kept them at bay.

“I'm so sorry, Mae." He crooned, and instantly broke down her lingering pain and regret.

It was almost terrifying how calm he made her feel, how he could erase those terrible thoughts with a single glance. But Mae still had a story to tell. “I miss her, I've missed her every day since she ran. And now you tell me that people could willingly inflict that on others? Steal their children?"

The tears were gone. The horror and anger she felt made her voice quiver, but the image of Toby drenched in her tears brought her back to the present. “Sorry. I made your clothes all wet." She huffed out a giggle.

Toby pat her nose and began to turn away. Mae let out a longing gasp. He couldn't go. She needed him now more than ever.

“Don't worry, it'll dry-"

She put a hand behind him to block his path, smiling as broadly as she could.

“Please. Stay with me."

Toby stepped no further. Instead, he leaned back into her hand with the utmost contentment.

“Whatever you say."

~~

“'Whoah.'"

“'Whoah?'"

“Yep, that's the title of the song. Think it might be about religion or something. I don't know." He explained.

Toby whistled idly as he shifted into her fur. He was well and truly entrenched at this point, and she loved every second of it. “So, this song's meaning also escapes you, like 'Arctic World.'" She surmised.

Mae wasn't usually so contemplative, but something about having Toby on her body just put her in that mood. It was the most peculiar thing.

“You really loved 'Arctic World' didn't you?" He jabbed.

Mae ruffled his hair a bit. “From the sound of it, I might love this one too."

Toby rolled his eyes, finding his yutri beneath her immense fluff.

“I figured."

~~

The track began with some lonely acoustic accompaniment, brought in with an ear catching drum break. The weary vocal trudged over the beat. It spoke in dazed, vague musings that justified Toby's stated confusion.

The Lord is my temple

God is by my side

You pay rates on that temple

Build materials at the side

He gives reasons to get through the day

He doesn't have rinse action

He just says:

The chorus didn't shine much light on the song's meaning. Persecution came to mind, as these tracks tended to be about so far. The backing vocals were certainly the star attraction, even if they weren't saying anything.

Whoah…

Don't want to see you back here again (Whoah…)

Whoah…

Don't want to see you back here again (Whoah…)

The second verse didn't bring her much clarity either. There may have been some Terran phrasing she was missing out on. Though if that was the case then perhaps she'd overestimated the cultural overlap that existed on the human home world. Twanging guitars lashed out over the drums. Their bitter strums brought a biting edge to the melancholy.

Girls, I'm not smiling

The stars have gone out

The man with the landslide got his head in the ground

Like an unopened letter left under the door

He says, 'I am the answer you're looking for'

After another chorus the song slipped into a lackadaisical bridge. The band whispered and crooned, taking the chorus lyrics and bending their melody beyond recognition. It all clicked for her. The words weren't just storytelling, they were vehicles for a mood. She could feel the pain and disappointment in his voice. She could hear the dazed huffing of the keyboard, the resigned drive of the drums and bass, and the anger of the guitars. They were what brought the song meaning.

Above we dream an Adropovosphere

Who maintains the drunken machinery

Below we dream of a time

When those men come from West Point

Moments later, every instrument cut out. The band sang the chorus completely isolated, until the powerful drums returned to propel the song to its proper conclusion. And with a final yell, the band ripped into the song one last time. All of it done with such power that the chills didn't leave her, until the track faded into nothing.

Whoah…

Don't want to see you back here again (Whoah…)

Yeah…

Whoah…

Don't want to see you back here again!

No, I don't wanna see you again…

~~

“Right. Was that one cryptic enough for you?"

“Well," She began, “Toby, even if we can't figure out what the song's about from the lyrics, can't we do it from how it's performed?"

Toby was pretty stumped, which was unfortunate. Though, seeing little things like his brow creasing was a fantastic silver lining.

“Even if we don't fully understand those strange religious references, we hear his anger, his disappointment. Isn't that enough?"

Toby cocked his head, skeptical at best. “I dunno. Don't do well with ambiguity, personally."

Mae frowned a little, prompting him to quickly try and save face.

“Doesn't mean I don't like the song though, it's great. Hell, maybe it's better that they didn't spell it all out for us. Talking about religion fucks things up usually."

“I see." She deadpanned.

“Lemme guess." Toby shot her a knowing glance, sardonic and teasing. "You wanna talk religion now, right?"

Mae felt a tad bashful. Toby could read her freakishly well. “Well, yes. But you said it 'fucks things up', so I don't-"

Toby poked the flesh of her nose, chuckling softly as he wiped its healthy moisture off his finger.

“Relax, I said 'most of the time'. If there's anyone I'd feel comfortable talking about this with, it's you."

Mae grinned, teeth showing unabashed. It was the kind of thing they trained newbie guardians against doing, but Toby must have found it more contagious than frightening, what with how he smiled back. “Thank you so much." She lauded him, “So, are you religious?"

“Used to be. I was raised into one of the bigger ones. You ever heard of Christianity?"

She nodded. In truth, she'd only heard the very basics. Bibles, churches, a man who returned from the dead, etcetera. With all those offhand references to a god and this 'Christ' fellow, Toby being a non-believer was a bit of a curveball.

“You see, my parents weren't just religious. They were priests. Had their own church and everything. Me and the faith? We had a bit of a falling out after the invasion, it pains me to say." He laughed, a hollow empty laugh devoid of joy.

“I was just a kid back then. Had to move back in with Mum and Dad once everyone started picking up the pieces. They wanted me to be a preacher, keep the family business running. Then I told them I didn't believe anymore, and things, well… 'Went to shit' would be an understatement."

“Oh, Toby." She leaned in further.

Her fingers were at the ready if he needed a stroke to cool him down, but she wanted to hear him out.

“They still loved me and all, but, fuck, every time they saw me they just had this pity in their eyes. Like they were always wondering where they went wrong. And I just- I couldn't take it anymore. Soon as I could, I ran on that colony ship and blocked their numbers. Never looked back till now."

“I'm sorry, Toby. Cutting contact is always hard." Mae crooned to him, managing to bring a very quick smile to his face.

“Thanks, but don't be. You had to cut contact. Your mum would've kept fucking your life up if you didn't. My parents? I didn't have to do that. I was just running away. I miss them."

Toby pressed himself into her muzzle to try and hug the pain away. “I miss them? Did I always miss them? God, I miss them. I miss them!"

She ran a finger along the side of his face. The gesture instantly calmed him down, returning a weary contentment to his face.

“Sorry." He sighed. “Are you religious at all?"

Now there was a question that could perk her up in an instant. She thought he'd never ask. “The practice itself has no name, but those who aren't ra'lai call it 'The Way.' In short: Everyone and everything in this universe has a spirit, and when their destiny has been fulfilled, that spirit moves on to another entity, experiencing new existences across the cosmos for all eternity."

“Interesting." was his lone response, doubt rolling off his tongue.

Mae playfully nudged him with her nose. He was certainly more honest with her, but it still seemed he could've done with a greater push. “Oh, Toby. You don't have to pretend to like my beliefs. You're my best friend. No religion could stand in the way of that!"

Toby shrugged, a little nervous after being read so completely. At least she could do it to him too.

“Aha. Soz. But you're right, I'm not exactly convinced."

Ironic, she thought. Considering what she was about to tell him. “I took some convincing too. I was raised in the faith just like you, but I don't think I ever truly believed until, well, until I met you."

Toby's jaw dropped. Normally she'd have tried to tease him for it, but she had a point to make.

“You were so small, but you could play to people my size with a confidence I could never show. You could make me calm. You could face people so much bigger than you. All throughout our first few shows I thought 'This must be destiny! Toby has a spirit inside him. I know it!' And I stand by that. You made me believe."

Toby was flabbergasted, holding a hand to his chest to guard himself. “God, Mae. I don't know what to say, I just- wow!"

Mae connected the dots in her head and ended up involuntarily snickering. “Wow? I think you mean whoah."

Toby scolded her with one long poke on her nose.

“Shush."

~~

“Right, so the 'Bullroarer' is an Aboriginal instrument, actually. To them, it's so sacred that they only use it in secret ceremonies. Outsiders aren't supposed to know, with a few notable exceptions. Notable exceptions like our boys, Midnight Oil."

Mae's ears pitched up in surprise. This band must have really hit home with those communities if things like this could happen.

“They let them into the ceremonies?" She asked him, quite curious as to any history that may have surrounded such an event.

“Even better. They let them use one on this track. Far as we know, you might be the first non-human to hear one."

“Doubtful," She laughed, “but I'd love to hear it anyway."

~~

What sounded like a throaty, deep gushing of wind gave way to an ever-present metronomic chopping that filled out the band's typical drum, bass, and guitar lineup. She could scarcely believe what she heard. Her eyes lit up, her back shot straight. She knew that sound from anywhere.

“Toby, stop the track!"

In a panic, he hit pause. “What's wrong?" He quivered.

“The ra'vrosherr!" She yelled in a fervor.

“Huh, what do you mean?"

Toby must have thought she was out of her mind, but if the humans made drum kits then nothing was truly off the table.

“Toby, what does this bullroarer look like?"

Wordlessly, Toby tapped away at his yutri, and waded through extranet searches for 'bullroarer.' Against all odds, a pill shaped wooden box on a string came into view. There it was. A different name, in a different system, made and played by people many times smaller than her own. The odds were infinitesimal, but the proof was right in front of her.

“Toby, the bullroarer is the ra'vrosherr. We made the same instrument!"

Toby looked at her like she just told him he won a million credits. “Oh my god, what? Is it some sacred thing for you, too?"

She found his question funny, without really knowing why. “Well, not sacred, but very rare. They're so small that the string- “

She stopped to stare at Toby. Mae easily envisioned the thin string of the ra'vrosherr next to him. Ra'lai played them attached to special rings, but a human could easily hold them. It made a sickening amount of sense. “So small that the string could fit in human hands! Toby, this is amazing!"

“You're telling me. I can't-" He suddenly stopped, wonder transmogrified into mischief. “Wait. You made the fucking bullroarer, but guitars were a step too far?"

Mae blushed beneath her fur. “You try playing such tiny strings with fingers like these." She nudged him with the back of a knuckle.

He lightly pushed against her, trying and failing to hide how much he enjoyed it.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Do you wanna hear the rest of the song or not?"

~~

The first verse held quite a bit of imagery, strangely understandable imagery at that. Once again, where words failed the music itself pulled through. Those dry dusty drums and jangling guitars screamed 'desert' to her. That was one thing that could never be lost in translation.

In the desert, in the dry

Before the breaking of the rain

The temperature in the shade had reached a hundred and ten again

In the desert, in the dry

On the overland telegraph line

Don't take the law into your own hands

Don't go looking for a fight

Hooky backing vocals formed half of the chorus. These big choruses had grown on her immensely over the course of the album. Especially with the way they gave her some clarity after the verses. 'Bullroarer' wasn't a storytelling song, but it wasn't a collection of moods either. It was experiences! Sights! Sounds! It was all the things this band saw when they entered the outback. She could scarcely imagine how an actual Terran would have felt listening to it, knowing all the context.

Na, na, na, na!

I've heard the bullroarers

Ah na na!

Na, na, na, na…

Mae listened intently to the second verse, painting a picture in her mind with the terms that she could comprehend. The airy chopping of the bullroarer in the background filled the song with a percussive energy, just like its ra'lai counterpart.

In the desert, in the dry!

Sun sits so high

Long days mile and the radio crackles and the bones bleach white

It's a knock 'em down storm!

See the tin roof shake

Wild dog howls and the long grass whistles and the tall trees break!

The chorus came and went once again, expanded with some strange lines about these things called 'horses,' and lead into a very long instrumental break. The band didn't want to dazzle, so much as add texture in every nook and cranny of the soundscape. An uplifting bass fill. Tiny bits of additional percussion. It was layered, intricate. Even the vocals became an instrument when they came back in.

Shifting sands and broken plans

Lead me on to my homeland…

By the time of the third chorus she began noticing more things she hadn't before. Like the idle acoustic plucks after the backing vocals. The guitar chugged on, taking center stage for a moment to cue the outro. With increasingly stymied vocals being underscored by the backing vocals instead of being led in and out of by them.

I've seen the wild- (Na, na, na, na!)

I've heard it, yeah

I've seen the wild- (Na, na, na, na!)

I've heard the bulls roar! (Na, na, na, na!)

Na, na, na, na…

The song trudged on for quite a while after the vocals ended. Even with the audio slowly fading out, the band still performed new parts. One final glittering guitar riff gave the song the satisfaction Mae wanted from it.

~~

“I loved it! Oh, this album of yours keeps getting better."

Toby grinned at that, a little mischievously. “You think so? Better than 'Arctic World?'"

“What? No." She scoffed “Why do you want me to stop liking 'Arctic World' so much?"

Toby held his hands up defensively. “I don't! It's just not the best one, Mae."

Mae held a finger beneath his outstretched arms. Soon, she gave him the lightest possible poke in the chest. Still enough to stagger him, of course. “Well, maybe your human ears just aren't built to appreciate it."

Toby responded not with words, but with the running of his hands along her finger. He was quite sneaky like that. She couldn't tell him off when she was so busy purring.

“Maybe. They appreciate this next song, though."

~~

“OK, we're coming up to the final three tracks here. This and the next one are pretty simple. 'Sell my Soul' is about… Well, he... He, uh... He doesn't want to sell his soul. That's about it."

“Mm-hmm."

What followed was a few moments of awkward silence. Then a snort. Then a snicker. Then at last an explosion of laughter that filled the room. They cackled and howled until their insides stung. Toby wiped a tear from his eye, grasping for any way he could pull himself together.

“Ah shit. OK! OK. Calm. Starting the song now."

~~

The track kicked off with some bright, cheery guitars, which melted into a dark, pulsing bass groove. The backing vocals crept atop it, forlorn and ghostly. The lyrics were sparsely written, more like fragments of a song than anything concrete.

Sell my soul to him…

Ohh, alright

Let's begin

I am ready, let's begin

Hey…

Sell my soul to him…

Shed my skin

I just wanna shed my skin

I don't wanna sell my soul to him…

The next part of the verse attained a brighter edge. Even with how morbid the lyrics were something about those backing vocals grabbed her. For her, predicting them was almost like a little game she could play on her own.

Mechanize

City bursts and farmers die!

They cry

Sell my soul to him…

Sleep face down

In a goods train heading south in the rain

I'll sail around

Sell my soul to him…

The track entered another bridge. The backing vocals carried the song, until the lead singer returned in full force. He sang lyrics of renewal, of coming into his own. Or perhaps it meant nothing at all. Mae could believe either.

In this world

I often think you'd understand me (Me…)

In these worlds

I often think you'd recognize me (Me…)

(Ahh…) Cause I just wanna swim

With the fish in the sea

And I want faith to heal

So that I can be clean!

The main melody kicked in again, low acoustic guitar carrying the song into a spiraling solo. Then the backing vocals came in again, like she knew they would.

Sell my soul to him…

The guitar's notes swirled higher and higher. She knew what to sing, how to sing it, and when it was supposed to be sung. And, as if trained and on cue, the lyrics fell out of her mouth without a hitch.

“Sell my soul to him…"

And Toby was completely awed. “Mae, are you singing along?"

She nodded.

Still away!

“Can you do it again?"

She nodded once more.

America's great, now

If you don't talk back, you hide your face

Crawl and rubble and smile and small

That snails paced creature going up and down walls

“They're gonna do it again!" He proclaimed.

He was going to join in. She knew it. Singing with her little light. She had no idea that she wanted this, but she wouldn't trade that moment for anything. They hollered the lyrics with unprecedented power. Their differing accents and tones formed a beautiful color together, disparate pieces that interlocked against all odds. It made her wonder why he hadn't sung around her before.

I just wanna celebrate!

“I'm not gonna sell my soul to him!"

When you look right in

From there on, as the track built towards its outro, he cued her in, and they sang together. The percussion layering behind them gave the track an energy that they couldn't describe. Toby threw his little fist in the air, she bounced on the bed and mimicked him. A moment of unfettered happiness. One worth any noise complaints.

“Sell my soul to him!" (To him…)

You won't come undone!

“Sell my soul to him!" (To him…)

You won't sell your soul!

How you gonna sell your soul to him, now?

“Sell my soul to him!"

~~

“Oh, Toby!"

Holding him close to her cheek, Mae nuzzled Toby like there was no tomorrow. She purred shamelessly all the while.

“Hey! What's this for?" He tried to say, albeit unsuccessfully thanks to his body being pressed against her cheek.

She didn't answer him. Instead she opted to roll her cheek all over his tiny body, giggling through the bassy rumbling in her chest. Though she slipped him back onto the table before long. He still needed his breathing room.

“For singing along with me." She huffed, voice low and husky.

Toby turned bright red with embarrassment. Or at least, she thought it was embarrassment. It was fuzzy, with the natural differences human scents gave off. But she swore she smelled pheromones from him. Mae was far too happy to pay it much mind. Shaking off whatever it was that came over him, Toby attempted to keep the track-by-track moving along.

“Right, we're on the last two tracks here. You ready to keep going?"

“Oh. Only two more?" She asked with a tinge of disappointment.

Toby looked a little worried for her. That strange empathy she had for him went both ways, and that was something that let her sleep easier at night.

“Sorry, I've just been enjoying this so much that I-well... I don't want it to end so soon."

Toby huffed to acknowledge her and shot her a knowing smirk.

“That makes two of us."

~~

“'Sometimes.' This one's about not giving up. That's about it, I think."

“But wasn't that what the last one was about?" Mae raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, they totally rip themselves off here.“ He winced, “But the tunes are good, so they're excused."

Some earlier grand statement about 'keeping the topics fresh' came to mind, but she kept it to herself. “Well, I'll keep that excuse in mind once we run out of ideas." She teased him, not entirely joking.

“Oh, we are a long ways off from that! I, uhh, I hope." He shuddered at the thought of those dark days.

“Could the song could give us some new ideas?" She asked, leaning in slightly and hoping the message was clear.

“I dunno. How about we hear it and find out?"

~~

The track began with an upbeat and cheery guitar line. However, 'Sometimes' kept its up-tempo stylings throughout the verse. Even the bassline seemed to be hitting higher notes than usual.

I know that the sunset empire shudders and shakes

And I know there's a floodgate and a raging river

And I say see the silence of the ribbons of iron and steel

And I say hear the punch-drunk huddle as they drive on a hammer and wheel

The guitars brought the song into what must have been the brightest, most positive, and near stupidly jolly chorus on the album yet. So unironically happy and hopeful, just what she needed after so many dark songs about horrific things.

Sometimes you're beaten to the call, sometimes

Sometimes you're taken to the wall

And you don't give in!

Sometimes you're beaten to the call, sometimes

Sometimes you're taken to the wall

But you don't give in

Oh no.

“Here's the best line!" Toby shouted upon hearing the lead in to the second verse.

I know that the cannibals wear smart suits and ties!

“Yeah!" Toby clapped and pumped his fist in childlike excitement.

And I know (I know… I know…)

They arm wrestle on the altar!

And I say don't leave your heart in a hard place

“They're gonna do the chorus again, sing it with me!" He beckoned.

Mae wasn't about to pass up such a generous offer. As soon as she heard that final bit of drum build, she tore into that chorus with everything she had. The two of them effortlessly filled the room wall to wall with song.

“Sometimes you're beaten to the call, sometimes!"

“Sometimes you're taken to the wall."

Ah, yeah yeah!

“Sometimes you're beaten to the call, sometimes!"

“Sometimes you're taken to the wall."

But you don't give in!

After one final instrumental break, every piece of the band revved up. Pounding and strumming, building towards one final chorus. Mae took a deep breath, ready to spit out every bit of air when she sang with him again. Though all the same, one thing managed to sneak up on them both.

“Sometimes you're beaten to the call, sometimes!"

“Sometimes you're taken to the wall."

Ah hah!

“Sometimes you're bea- “

shaken to the core, sometimes!

Toby and Mae couldn't help but burst out laughing. Singing the wrong lyrics during a sing along would have had her flustered if she weren't having the time of her life. Though she supposed it meant she could listen in on the wonderful bits of percussion in this final leg of the track. Even so close to the end, this band had some tricks to pull.

Sometimes your face is gonna fall

Don't ya let it!

Sometimes you're beaten to the call, sometimes

Sometimes you're taken to the wall

But you don't give in!

~~

“Toby!"

Mae once again gave in to the urge to hold him and rub him into her cheek. She purred deeply, rattling the human throughout his body. She couldn't remember the last time something made her purr, and yet she'd done it three times in the course of an hour.

“Ah, hey! What's this for?" Toby's voice cracked, the continuous affection had left him a blushing mess.

“For singing along. Why did we not do this before? Why?"

The joy she felt melted into melancholy, then she let him go and continued. “We could have had you voice in our songs. I- Such wasted time and talent..."

Toby brought himself closer to her again, just beneath her resting chin. Tiny hands scratched through her thick fur and bathed the skin beneath in pleasure.

“Don't sweat it, Mae." He assured her, “Next time we're in the studio, I'll sing till my lungs give out. Just you wait."

One last purr rolled out of her throat. For a moment, she thought he'd have told her everything was fine and left it there, but it well and truly seemed like that version of him had been kicked to the curb. Alas, the loss of a voice like his on their first record was lamentable. All the more reason, however, for her to guarantee his voice would be heard in the future.

“So." He began, as if treading water, “You ready to finish off 'Diesel and Dust?'"

That comment made her think. She didn't know what could reasonably come after a big bombastic sing along track like the last one. It left her feeling a bit of a void.

“It's strange. With this song's energy, I feel like it could easily have closed the album. Now you say there's more?"

Toby gave his surroundings a once over and nervously rubbed the back of this neck.

“Yeah. About that."

~~

“OK. The last track, 'Gunbarrel Highway.' Now this story's a fucking whopper. Right, so on the version little Tobias heard, the album actually ended with 'Sometimes.' 'Gunbarrel' isn't on it at all cause the distributors got cold feet. Why? A line with a swear word on it, so they left it off until the rereleases."

“They removed the final track over one word?" She balked, hopelessly confused. "That's just bizarre."

Mae had never heard of anything like this happening in her people's music before. It may have been a cultural difference. Her people hadn't even named one of their most practiced faiths, and yet humans clung to names like safety blankets. One more item on the list of things she'd never understand.

“You wanna talk 'bizarre.' How about finding out there's this weird ass extra piece of something you grew up with out there, and you never knew?"

“More bizarre than sharing it with a stripy hermaphrodite from another solar system?" She asked, a sardonic glint in her eye.

Toby put a hand under his chin, pretending to be in deep thought. His answer was simple, “Nah."

Feeling a bit more playful, Mae ran a knuckle through Toby's unkempt hair and scruffed it up beyond reconciliation. “Silly little man!"

Toby batted her fingers away and tried to readjust the now hideously messy tufts of orange. He failed. “Hey! This 'silly little man' needs to finish this silly little album, alright?"

Mae giggled and wiggled her fingers as if to tease him.

“That he does."

~~

Wistful twinkling guitars opened the track and soon parted ways to give focus to the most Toby-esque bass playing on the album. Still beholden to the drum line, but loosely sliding around the bottom end without a care in the world. The time for all those driving beats was over. Now was the time for some fun. This time the lyrics did tell a story. Not so much their own story, but that of the album as a whole. It felt like more of an encore than a proper closing track, which was appropriate.

I'll give you something to write home about

And I'll take you somewhere and show you around

We burned all the cars that laid down and died

We burnt all the trees that would keep us alive

Sat round the fire, sang like a choir

With the ashes of a civilization in our eyes

The song filled up with the swell of a keyboard, sliding and oscillating like the bass below it. Mae was left wishing that Toby had explained the significance of the title, or at least why one particular highway was so important.

I come alive!

I read the signs!

On the Gunbarrel Highway!

“Oh, you ready to hear him swear?"

Far off, a dull radio

Beats for the young uninvolved

The meaning's a football

A stick and a can and a Kakadu man

Will the speaker speak up or the talker talk down?

“Here it is!"

The world is no oyster and here in this town

Shit falls like rain on a world that is brown

“Yes!" Toby stood and clapped. That excitement hadn't faded once they stopped singing, clearly. Seeing him let loose throughout their time listening to the album had been a treat.

I come alive!

I read the signs!

On the Gunbarrel Highway

Oh, crazy days…

I come alive

And the children will sing (Ah, aah, aah, aaah!)

As the satellite swings down that highway

The track had another beat switch with strumming, heavily affected, guitars. There was something a little sad to the sound of it, despite its ostensibly upbeat sensibilities. As if the band knew this was the last gasp before the end. Becoming moody over an album ending. She felt immensely silly just thinking about it, but she couldn't help herself. Another bridge came in after some of the fastest drum playing on the album. For the last time, the lead singer belted lyrics with that same specificity she'd grown to love.

Nothing could be longer than a corrugated road

No-one ever follows where the road trains go

And nowhere in the country do the gust storms blow so hard!

Oh, so hard…

I come alive!

I read the signs!

On the Gunbarrel Highway

I'll hear the sound!

It's the wheels as they drive (Ah, aah, aah, aaah!)

And the cultures collide on that highway

Aa-ha-ha-hard! It's a hard day! (I'll come alive!)

The children will sing (Ah, aah, aah, aaah!)

As the satellite swings down that highway

Oh yeah!

As expected, the band played the bridge again, while the track faded out. Each band member added a little personal touch, with the bassist especially sounding like he was having fun until it all disappeared. And thus, ended 'Diesel and Dust'.

~~

“It's over?" Mae mewled, ears flat and her tail limp on the bed below.

“Yep. No more extras. Just us and our thoughts." He informed her, though she couldn't quite place his tone.

She offered him one last ride with both hands on the desk. Slowly and precisely, she kept Toby flat against her chest as she reclined onto the bed. He had the most adorably flustered expression on his face. That alone earned him a couple of strokes, when she was fully settled. “Oh Toby, I loved it all! The things I learned, the moments we shared. I ache to do this again with you someday."

Toby was thrilled. Every part of that sentence seemed to have appealed to him. “Glad you liked it! I love seeing things like this cross boundaries."

Crossing boundaries. That was something so pitifully rare on Tebeish. If Andrew and Kamh'sen were right, then something was very wrong on this planet. She and Toby were in a very good position. Their band was a success. Album sales were strong, and they had a bigger platform than either of them could have dreamed of. Yet they squandered it on trying to fulfill label mandates. A question came to mind, as much for herself as for him; “Toby. Why aren't we trying to do what this band did?"

“What, you mean musically?" Toby asked, not following.

“No, not their style, their substance. Why aren't we making music that can change lives? Bring two different peoples together? Show them that they aren't so different?"

Toby had to bite back a sigh. “Mae, please, things here aren't like they were in Australia. We don't need-“

“No!" She butted in, “I'm not saying that you need reparations or anything of the sort. But the way you and your people are treated on this planet is wrong. It's so wrong, and we've done nothing to help it."

Hearing him say that was upsetting. She never would have implied that what happened here was anything like what happened in Australia. But that didn't mean that things couldn't be better, and thankfully he didn't deny that anymore.

“Fuck. I know. But the hell can we do?" He grimaced. “The humans back at the settlement don't want to come out. They're afraid. I don't know what of, but it's got them shit scared. Like I was before I met you."

He was still beating himself up over how he'd been before. It was true that he was afraid when she first met him, and that he'd been afraid after what happened in the first afterparty. Yet he still couldn't see how he'd risen above that.

“But you still went out and met me." She had to remind him, “You faced your fears. You were brave."

Toby turned away from her, as he tended to when he knew she was right. “Only cause I'd just lost my job. I had nothing left to lose. I was desperate, Mae. Not brave."

First, he couldn't be small and be her friend at once. Now he couldn't be brave and desperate. It hurt to see that this binary thinking so deeply ingrained within him. She had to take another approach. Speak his language. Use his definition of brave instead of her own.

“Toby. You are brave. You've been brave, and nothing will change that. But if you don't believe that, if you really believe all of those horrible things you say about yourself, why not try to be brave now?"

Toby buried his face into her shirt, muffling his words. “I-I don't know. I-God, I don't know what I'm saying."

With fine control she hardly practiced as a drummer, Mae laid a careful finger on his head, and tilted it up to face her. “Then come with me. Go back to the human settlement. Help me show them that we can all be together. Not out of desperation or pity. But because it takes bravery to go a thousand people and say that this isn't the best we can do."

Mae knew that it was a big ask. She would stand higher than the walls, dwarf every building. One could only imagine the nightmare scenario of her stepping on a vehicle or a person, but, as she said, this wasn't the best they could do. It couldn't be. Not with a galaxy full of people trying to integrate his kind. Toby pat her chest, prompting Mae to place him near her collarbone. That detail she adored him for returned in spades.

“Alright. I'm gonna be brave. I'll go with you, and we'll make a difference."

He cupped the side of her nose in his hand, eliciting a small purr. Looking at him now after laughing and crying with him was the strangest thing. Humans were cute. Humans were beautiful. Humans could be smart and silly, brave and weak, familiar and alien. But having Toby in her hands, clothes still stained with her tears, rich with the peculiar scent of his pheromones... He'd become something else. In that moment, she was struck by one very important question. One that could ruin everything if she let it.

Was he always this handsome?