A month later, Shinji was alone late at night in his office. He didn’t have to return home early. Amraani was touring branch offices on the West Coast and wouldn’t be back for another fortnight. His old-style Thai food gave him enough energy to work on a research proposal he received from a team of toxicologists.

He tweaked the process to such a point the final result was simply genius, a true innovation on the detection of subatomic exotic particles in every day’s items. He, as Fiji-Mary, would certainly get credit for it. It was bizarre how he had to switch between his different identities when it came to crediting his scientific accomplishments. He finished up on reading various reports and just as quickly pointed out missing data and other important details the senders had missed.

His utterly competent and efficient work had already garnered him a somewhat unpleasant nickname in the institute. Officially Fiji-Mary Ise-Masson was rumored by her co-workers to be the first –well, the only- woman of such great intellectual ability they got to work with.

But –as he heard them talking by the coffee machine- that woman was a little too much guy-like at times. She also often caught the youngest interns discussing the pros and cons of working under a woman who sometimes reminded them of a boss man. The good news is a few guys among them seemed happy that he was competent enough to give appropriate if not excellent contribution to the work they were doing instead of being an encumbrance.

So much for not being discriminated against because we’re men and Glorians.

He sighed.

To others, we are women before we’re directors, chief engineers, or senior producers. We are women and they treat us with the same condescension as all the other women at work. Regardless of where we go and what we do.

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

That speech about our equal treatment was bogus. I pity those who entered military and law enforcement positions. At least, I get to do work I like and live with someone I love.

Shinji froze mid-thought.

Whoa! Whoa! Where is that coming from, Shinji?! You no longer love him. You no longer even appreciate the jerk.

He silently admonished himself.

I know I have to play the happy wife and the competent coworker, and so far, Amraani's support in doing just that has been slightly lacking. I know I should be happy and try to forgive him and maybe even try to forget the whole thing. But, I can't and won’t forgive so easily what he did to me.

A ferocious expression lingered on Fiji-Mary's delicate features.

I will play this I-love-you-darling-but-you-don’t-know-I’m planning-your-ruin game, and I will win. I must admit it’s mocks easier than I thought it would be. I thought it would be harder to behave like an enamored wife, since I seriously consider sucker-punching Amraani at least twice a day. But somehow, Amraani hasn't caught on it yet. 

Shinji was vaguely aware of his inability to refuse himself to Amraani, even when he wasn't planning to use that particularly sexual encounter as stepping stone towards the completion of his grand plan. He had caught himself wishing to forgive Amraani’s betrayal a few times already, but each time he remembered how their child would never get to be born.

A couple of weeks before, when he was deep in thought imagining what would the kid have looked like, Brain Tutor started describing the baby it was set to be created based on Shinji's and Amraani's genetics. Gender, eyes and hair color, skin, other physiological features and so much more.

Upset beyond measure, Shinji learned to stop the flow of information the IAS could send and ordered the machine to archive the information on his baby until he clearly asked for it with a code. He knew that getting to know his kid would force him into mourning and that he might end up forgiving Amraani if he cried properly for their daughter. If he let go of his pain at not knowing the baby girl, he would certainly let go of his anger towards the father. After all, they both had wanted the baby, even if Shinji didn’t know he could have one. Since, the child wouldn’t have been conceived if they both didn’t have the synchronized mental wish of a child between the two of them.

Now, because Amraani had deliberately hidden from Shinji his conception abilities and Shinji therefore wasn’t careful enough with the fruit of their lovemaking, their child was no more. He also remembered how Amraani didn’t hesitate to risk his life just so he could achieve his manipulation of the he-female.

I can’t and I won’t forgive him for killing our baby.

He went back to his work.

An hour later, he was done and driving back to the loft. He checked in through the building’s security and got into their personal elevator. A couple of minutes later, he opened the door into their darkened welcoming hall. He called up the house computer to turn on the lights. It didn’t reply.

We have autonomous electrical supply and we get weekly checkups of the whole system. No chance this is unexpected system failure.

Adrenaline spiking in his vessels, Shinji carefully stepped into the kitchen, rather than the living room. He headed to his set of sharpened kitchen knives without making any noise, the one he purposely set on the kitchen tiles close to the door, and grabbed the one he knew from habit to be the most maneuverable one. Then he went to the living room, forcing the house computer into manual mode from his wrist phone. He reached the living's entrance, braced himself, and manually turned the lights on.

All the lamps and lights of the house came on.

A beautiful woman sat in the master’s position of his Japanese sitting area. She was calm, in power even, given the fact that the lights switching on suddenly like this, should have surprised her, at least a little. She looked at him, her perfect outfit and perfect makeup enhancing the intensity of the sharp stare she was scanning his body with. He glanced over her surroundings looking for a weapon, but saw nothing of consequence.

“For someone of Japanese descent, you lack the proper kitchen apparel for a decent welcome of your in-laws.” Her voice sounded as serene as she looked.

That shook Shinji to his core. He hurried to hide it from the tranquil woman who could see him as clearly as he did.

She is my mother-in-law?! I didn’t know Amraani still had relatives. No. Did she realize my surprise?

In all the years he had known his husband, Shinji only heard Amraani talk about his parents once, so Shinji figured he might have lost them at a young age and was still feeling the heat of the loss.

Is she really Amraani’s mother?

He paid closer attention to her facial features. There were evident traces of Amraani’s old face. His Arabic origins were in her forehead, ears, nose, and dark-grey eyes. For security reasons, he had decided with Amraani to set both their background as if they were orphans. Thus this older, womanly version of Amraani who was regally sitting in his living room, was proof a security problem had occurred in the Eternal Glory Project.

He remembered he had a very sharp cooking knife in hand.

I need to know who she really is and more bees are gathered with honey than with vinegar. So...

He replied as he lowered his knife.

“You have to forgive me for not extending you all the courtesy you deserve on your first visit to our home. Excuse me for the knife too. You didn’t announce your visit and both Zaadeem and I were extremely busy these past few weeks."

He crossed a few feet in her direction. "It’s your first visit, right Mrs. Masson?! ”He inclined the head slightly.

“Yes.” The evaluating stare was still holding him. Shinji didn't believe her.

“Then, allow me to welcome you as my ancestors did.”

He strolled back to the kitchen, set back the knife in its support, and started moving efficiently about, gathering items for a tea ceremony. All the while managing to not lose sight of the beautiful woman who seemed lost in her own thoughts as she completely disregarded his presence.

As he worked, his finger slid gracefully, discreetly, on a counter-top tile, activating the silent alarm of the house. Amraani, their couple’s support team leader, and the security team downstairs received an instant warning. The house computer started recording everything in every room of the house. Anything that could be captured by one of the five senses.

Shinji came back holding on a tray everything he needed for the tea making. “How are you, Madam? Did you travel here fine?”

“Who are you?” The tone was sharp this time.

Is she losing patience with me already?

Shinji’s guard went up an additional notch.

Let’s not expose the Glorian program at first. She might have tracked Amraani here without knowing his face is different now. Though I doubt it as she didn't react to my calling her Mrs Masson.

“You already know who I am since you said you are my in-law. I’m the one who doesn’t know who you are for I never saw you before today. This..." Shinji raised the tray he carried a little higher, "only means I'm only acknowledging you as a possible parent of my husband because Zaadeem looks Arabic like you.”

Seriously, am I to deal with a mother who shouldn’t even know her son is Glorian and living here, married to another man? Do I have to justify my presence in my male husband’s life to the stranger who is possibly one of the worst nightmares of a wife?

He drew a surreptitious, calming breath and let his freshly oxygenated brain come up with scenarios on how this mocks could finish.

First of all, let’s ascertain if she knows of the program or not. He started talking, but Maïra cut him off.

“Who are you?” the older woman demanded a second time. “And don’t lie to me. I know my son married you without me knowing and without my assent.”

As she talked, Shinji kept moving about the living room setting the tea instruments and started making the tea the old fashioned way.

“I am Fiji-Mary Ise, 23-year-old scientist with the High Constitutional Institute.”

Shinji could feel the cutting gaze was following him around the room, slightly more amenable.

“I never asked for your résumé, Ms. Ise. I asked who you were. If you can’t understand such a simple question, you have no place in the institute, let alone in my son’s life.”

The institute?! Then she probably knows about Amraani being Glorian. Ever since he graduated, Amraani has only worked in research centers that were called research centers. None of them were called institutes.

“I know who I am, however what you want to know isn't my feelings about the country's politics or the way I grew up. What you want to know is how much sway I hold over your son. I cannot answer that.”

Shinji raised a hand to stop the words that seemed ready to pour out the older woman.

“Don’t get me wrong, I was overjoyed when he did, but Zaadeem is the one who chose me for his wife, and only he can tell you who I am to him. I could never give a satisfactory response to such a question for I can’t read minds." 

Fiji-Mary inclined her head a little to the side, a teasing expression on her face. "Can you, Mrs. Masson?!”

Shinji handed her the cup of hot beverage, smiling. Maïra held his eyes as she took the cup and drank from it.

“Good tea, good soul, they say. I'm Maïra. How did you get to know my son?”

This is quickly getting more mundane than I thought.

“We were in the same class in college, back in Nageria, but we didn’t get close. We probably were at the same professional functions all these years, but it’s only recently that we met again in Ivory and hit it off. But you must already know that, since I assume Amraani, excuse me Zaadeem, already told you.”

It was very brief, but Shinji saw the flash of recognition in Maïra’s eyes. She didn't show much of a reaction afterwards and seemed just as much relaxed.

Her lack of negative emotions towards me for calling her son erroneously with an unknown man’s name is bad news. She knows Amraani lives under a new name and a new face. Does she also know I'm an he-female? Or does she think I met Amraani after he changed?

“Who is this Amraani you just talked about? A colleague? Your lover?” Her eyes narrowed. Shinji wasn’t fooled.

Giving me the distraction of a fight to deter me from checking under Zaadeem’s true identity. Still he played along.

“Yes. It’s a colleague. One of Arabic descent who looks a little like you, in fact. He is from a private company I order supply from. Open-minded, fair, smart, but quite immature.” Anger blazed and disappeared from her eyes at top speed.

She doesn’t give in easily, huh?! A loving mother too? Then, why was she so absent from Amraani’s life?

“I only thought of him because I'm still trying to reconcile your face with Zaadeem’s and I can’t see much resemblance. He must take after his father.”

“God forbid,” Maïra muttered into her tea.

Oh! Fight in the parental unit! It might explain why Amraani doesn’t want to think about them. Still, I must verify if she knows I’m an he-female?

Shinji let a painful mimic show on his face before extinguishing it when he was sure Maïra had seen it. Then, he thought of something scary and paled a little. He didn’t have to wait long. Maïra sipped some more of the tea and set the cup down before fastening her eyes on Shinji’s face again.

She asked, “Sick?”

“Here I was thinking I hid my pain well. Nothing pathological. Just something I'd like to keep for myself, if you don't mind.”

“You should know your grandmother's recipes for these womanly troubles, right?!”

Shinji looked at her with blush rising to his cheekbones from an embarrassment he didn't feel.

And as always, she can't help being blunt!

“I abide by the scientific principles. If you can’t scientifically prove me their worth, I’m not interested in homeopathic recipes or in any kind of treatment. I know too much about toxicity to jump and drink everything I’m told will assuage my pains. It's a shame science forgot about us on this side of things though.”

Maïra seemed to relax a bit more after she gave Shinji a look of compassion that didn't last long.

Understanding? Empathy? Not contempt? No anger, no disapproval from the conservative mother Amraani once described back in college? She doesn’t know I’m a man underneath that womanly appearance or else this wouldn’t fly.

He looked at her, hiding the best he could the questions that were running free in his mind.

Then again, that description is already five years old. A lot can happen to a person in five years. I’m a prime example of that.