{"id":58300,"date":"2026-01-19T07:42:57","date_gmt":"2026-01-19T12:42:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/?p=58300"},"modified":"2026-01-19T13:13:01","modified_gmt":"2026-01-19T18:13:01","slug":"fingerprints-on-glass-and-clay","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/fiction\/fingerprints-on-glass-and-clay\/","title":{"rendered":"Fingerprints on Glass and Clay"},"content":{"rendered":"<script>\nfunction showWarning_enUS() {\n    var content_warning_list = document.getElementById(\"content-warning-enUS\");\n\n    if (content_warning_list.style.display === \"none\") {\n        content_warning_list.style.display = \"block\";\n    } else {\n        content_warning_list.style.display = \"none\";\n    }\n}\n<\/script><div lang=\"en-US\" dir=\"ltr\" class=\"content-warning-container-ltr\"><p><strong class=\"content-warning-title\">Content warning:<\/strong><br\/><button onclick=\"showWarning_enUS()\">Show warnings<\/button><\/p><div class=\"content-warning\" id=\"content-warning-enUS\" style=\"display: none;\" ><p>This page contains: <\/p><ul><li>Animal cruelty\/death<\/li><li> Disregard for personal autonomy<\/li><li> Body transformation<\/li><li> Child abuse<\/li><\/ul><\/div><br\/><\/div>\n<p>After visits from the Whale, when the Lifemaker retreats to his chambers, L\u00facio swims to the aquarium by the window, where he and Olga watch the fish fly by. The largest swim near the front, their sinuous bodies waving against the stars. The smaller ones swim behind. Floating freely in space, the mansion is surrounded only by night, except when the shoal passes by, their scales turning the black view red. Olga, the Lifemaker\u2019s sister, likes the sunfish, always giggles at the sight of his gaping mouth. L\u00facio prefers the Guide, the final member of the procession. Her curved teeth gnaw at the dark. L\u00facio has never left his aquarium, and the Guide\u2019s mouth makes him imagine chewing the walls, diving into the sky, swimming in space. Most of all he likes the light hanging from the top of her head: the small circle blinking yellow at the end of her esca, the call to any wanderers lost in the void. A promise: There is always something to find. There is always a path to follow.<\/p>\n<p>Olga leans close to the window, her forehead touching the glass. The Whale and the Lifemaker argued tonight.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe said she didn\u2019t understand Cantala,\u201d she says. L\u00facio remembers the dry, short sobs coming from the Lifemaker\u2019s room after the Whale took his latest project. \u201cSo he wanted to set up that little trap to \u2018show her.\u2019\u201d The Lifemaker took several sleepless nights to make Cantala, hunching at his desk, endless scribbles blooming on his notes. L\u00facio remembers the mornings where he\u2019d shake his head and rip pages apart, only to go back to the pieces in the afternoon, head going back and forth from the skeleton to the aquarium. <em>Ah, L\u00facio, I think I like this one<\/em>, he had said. \u201cI told him\u2014that\u2019s just how it is, with the Whale. Not every piece is going to be a winner. But, well, you know Carlos.\u201d Her sigh clouds the window\u2019s glass. \u201cI think he might go back to the Kid, now. Finish him, finally.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio wants to scoff: The Kid is never ready. Instead, he looks outside and imagines swimming with other fish. The aquarium\u2019s glass turning into a window, the handle turning unlocked, a tunnel forming from him to the Guide\u2019s light.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr width=\"25%\" \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Whenever the Whale comes, she is full of questions: She wants to know which materials the Lifemaker used, why he chose those body parts, what makes this creature different from the ones who came before. L\u00facio has watched the Lifemaker rehearse his answers, many times, in the privacy of his office. His most recent project, Cantala, was built around the concept of a hybrid brain: human neurons bound to a monkey\u2019s, woven inside a cage of carefully grown vines. In order to showcase the centerpiece, Cantala\u2019s scalp had been removed, and the Whale ran her tongue over it carefully, slowly. She wouldn\u2019t harm its delicate nature. For a moment Cantala had been fully covered by her tongue, as if ceasing to exist while she tasted her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s beautiful,\u201d the Whale had said. The Lifemaker seemed to grow. \u201cBut a monkey and a human\u2014it\u2019s a little derivative.\u201d The Lifemaker seemed to shrink. \u201cIt makes sense, somewhat\u2014both in the tradition of human makers creating hybrids of their own kind, and as a natural culmination of your earlier work. It\u2019s just, well, I\u2019ve seen it before.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>After his talk with Olga, L\u00facio swims through the aquarium pipes to the Lifemaker\u2019s office. L\u00facio\u2019s aquarium extends through the entire mansion, tunnels of glass attached to every ceiling, descending to a few tanks and smaller fish bowls here and there. Olga built it all. Every time she comes by to visit her brother, she has a new plan to add to the glass maze where L\u00facio lives. The water is cold, according to the thermostat, but L\u00facio has never known anything else. He passes the library, the kitchen, the lab. He swims above the storage room where the Kid stays\u2014swims faster, then.<\/p>\n<p>He finds the Lifemaker by his desk. The walls tower around him. From his pipe on the ceiling, L\u00facio can pretend they are the same size. He could open his mouth and swallow the Lifemaker whole, along with all the lives inside him.<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker twists a puzzle cube in his hands. \u201cDid Olga tell you about my little trick?\u201d He doesn\u2019t look at L\u00facio as he speaks, tearing colors apart. \u201cWorked well. The Whale closed her mouth and the trap went off.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The Whale can hold anything inside herself. She has carried all of the Lifemaker\u2019s creations in her stomach, to the other realms. She licks them and discusses them with him before leaving. She is always honest about how his work tastes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI just wanted to pay her back a little.\u201d The Lifemaker lets go of the cube. \u201c\u2018<em>Derivative<\/em>.\u2019 Stupid beast.\u201d He pulls his sparse grey hair, as if he\u2019s trying to drag something out of his head. \u201cNow I\u2019m screwed. She threatened to never come back\u2014can you <em>imagine<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio pictures the Whale\u2019s body jolting as the trap pierced her gums. It\u2019s hard for him to imagine someone so big in pain.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI think she will come back,\u201d L\u00facio says. The Whale asks a lot of questions, and the Lifemaker leaves their conversations seeming exhausted, but she keeps coming back because she loves his work. That\u2019s why she wants to know everything, taste every piece. The Lifemaker might complain, but he\u2019s always excited the day before she visits. He always wants to know what she thinks of his creations, as if they only become real once seen by her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, sure.\u201d The Lifemaker lets go of his hair. He tilts the cube with his finger until it stands like a lozenge. \u201cShe wants the Kid. She says it\u2019s about time he\u2019s ready.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio swallows. The Kid is never ready. He can\u2019t help but feel envious, though, imagining the Kid getting to leave the mansion. A creature like that wouldn\u2019t swim with the fish in the sky, but maybe he\u2019d find others like him, his own shoal. L\u00facio imagines swimming between other bodies, the Guide\u2019s light behind him, making him a piece of a whole she protected. \u201cWhat if,\u201d he says, \u201cyou try something else?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker turns to him. \u201cLike what?\u201d L\u00facio wonders if there is a way to see his reflection in the Lifemaker\u2019s eyes. He\u2019d be even smaller, then, inside his eyelids. \u201cI don\u2019t have anything ready. Except for you, which, well, you know\u2014I only give her my best work.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The Guide\u2019s light flickers in L\u00facio\u2019s mind, then goes out. He feels silly. The other fish were built for freedom. He was built for the aquarium, for the mansion\u2019s walls. \u201cOf course,\u201d he says. \u201cI mean, I wouldn\u2019t want to, either. It was just a thought.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker raises his finger, allows the cube to be a cube again. He\u2019s not listening. He\u2019s already gone, his mind out the window, beyond any star L\u00facio can see.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr width=\"25%\" \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio doesn\u2019t know when the Lifemaker started making lives. Olga says he wanted to since they were children. It\u2019s hard to imagine the pair of elderly siblings as kids. The Lifemaker\u2019s face, especially, agrees with age, seems to mold around his wrinkles.<\/p>\n<p>Olga said he started with animals. He didn\u2019t take many risks with his craft until later in his career, when he began to make other humans. Then he started adventuring with hybrids and never looked back.<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio himself had been a side project, a quick return to form during a time when the Lifemaker and Olga were estranged. He had wanted a simple project then, and a goldfish was easy to make. The human vocal cords were a special touch.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s delicate work, on such a small canvas,\u201d the Lifemaker had said, his index finger and thumb two reddish smudges pressed against the aquarium\u2019s cold glass, curling around L\u00facio. \u201cSolid, but overdone. I just needed the distraction.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio took no offense. The Lifemaker worked hard on the creatures he gave to the Whale. L\u00facio had watched him glue feather after feather in tissue made from the inside of oysters, measure every organ in a grown man\u2019s torso to build half of each one from metal scraps, dye a human\u2019s hair deep dark before sewing it onto an owl\u2019s body.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s all in the details, L\u00facio,\u201d he had said. He ran his hand over the owl\u2019s back, raising up each feather in its wake.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr width=\"25%\" \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker made the Kid way before L\u00facio; according to Olga, way before he even thought of him. The first version of the Kid was the one who looked most like a boy. That one came closest to being ready. The Lifemaker made him in a frenzy, working for weeks without stopping; pitched him to the Whale as his greatest creation.<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio doesn\u2019t know when the Lifemaker decided the Kid wasn\u2019t ready. All he knows is one day he took him to the lab to make a few final adjustments, and that was years ago and the Kid is still around. Since then, the Kid has been a boy and a girl and then a boy again; he has had wings that he flapped to awkwardly float from one chair to the other; he has walked on all fours and crawled and hopped on a single wooden leg. Right now he has two human legs, one arm and two extra fingers growing from his left shoulder. His head is a smaller version of the Guide\u2019s: The Lifemaker carved the sharp teeth in a particularly productive month. The small light hanging from his forehead is pale, weak against the mansion\u2019s darkness. Truth be told, L\u00facio finds him unpleasant. He wanders around the hallways, his mouth flopping open and closed, teeth clicking in a frantic echo, chewing on something no one else can see.<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker says he\u2019s going to go back to working on the Kid for years now. Sometimes he will pick him up, twist him around, remove or add an eye or two, but he never really seems intent on finishing him. So L\u00facio is surprised when, the next day, the Kid walks into the lab, the little light in his forehead bouncing up and down with his steps.<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio cringes. He can\u2019t help but feel like this version of the Kid is an insult to the dignity of the Guide, a kind of cheap perversion.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCome on, now,\u201d says the Lifemaker, sitting by his examination table. The Kid walks straight to him. \u201cCome on.\u201d The Lifemaker gestures to the table. The Kid tries to pull himself up, but his single arm is not strong enough. \u201cOh, sorry, I forgot,\u201d the Lifemaker says. He picks the Kid up by his waist and places him on the table. The Kid\u2019s pale eyes sink onto him. \u201cTurn around. Raise your arm.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker pulls up his sweater, loose around his shoulders. Olga brings the Kid everything he wears. <em>It\u2019s all gonna be a little big on you<\/em>, she had said on her latest visit, handing the Kid a bag. <em>I\u2019m still not the greatest seamstress.<\/em> The Kid had held the bag for a while.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou can lower your arm now,\u201d the Lifemaker says. He runs a hand down the Kid\u2019s back. His skin is smooth, the Lifemaker always careful to not leave scars on his projects. L\u00facio remembers the brief period when the Kid had small wings growing from his shoulder blades; how he used to flap them trying to reach the ceiling, bumping on the wall on his way up. He had been so agitated. The Lifemaker woke up in the middle of the night to drag him to the lab. The dejected chicken wings sat, hastily removed, on a corner of the desk for days.<\/p>\n<p>He asks the Kid to lean forward, to stretch, to lie down on his side. L\u00facio turns the Kid into pieces in his mind, tries to imagine the Lifemaker going through them, deciding what to keep and what to throw away.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr width=\"25%\" \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The Kid can\u2019t talk: The vocal cords are always among the final touches the Lifemaker gives to a project, and the Kid is never ready. He makes sounds, sometimes, depending on which head he has. Right now, the anglerfish head announces itself mostly by the clicking of teeth.<\/p>\n<p>He plays with a few toys. Some are gifts Olga brought for him, others are rejected pieces from previous projects. L\u00facio has swum over the Kid in those times, watching him wave a wooden arm up and down, his chest heaving with what must be his version of laughter. Once, the Kid placed a ceramic eye on the floor and flicked a round metal engine against it, sending it spinning endlessly across the room. That was back when he had thumbs.<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio avoids him. The sight of the Kid is abhorrent. L\u00facio can slide in and out of every room without bothering anyone, can blend in with the mansion to exist as quietly as the walls. He doesn\u2019t waste anyone\u2019s time demanding attention. Meanwhile, the Kid, unfinished, thrives on being a nuisance. He flaunts his inadequacy, never tries to hide or behave. Worse, he has a fascination with the aquarium, spending long stretches of time standing in front of the tanks.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo you know what his plan is for the Kid?\u201d L\u00facio asks Olga. \u201cDid he say?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Olga is working on a new aquarium. She shows L\u00facio the sketch: It\u2019s a spiral, the tube curving on top and then behind itself as if hiding. \u201cDo you like it?\u201d she asks.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes,\u201d L\u00facio says, impatient. He floats in the large tank that takes over almost a full wall of the dining room. The day Olga brought it, L\u00facio dove all the way to the bottom as she stood outside, smiling. The tank could be big enough for the two of them, and what a shiny thought that was, a world made for more than one. \u201cI\u2019m just not sure what he can do. I mean, what hasn\u2019t he tried yet?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, Carlos will think of something,\u201d Olga says. She closes her notebook and parts a slice of bread, crumbs falling on the cover. She bites half, then feeds the other half to L\u00facio through the feeding tube.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo you think the Kid can be finished?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnything can be finished.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The crumbs feel dry in his mouth. \u201cDo you,\u201d he pushes the words out, throws them up, \u201cdo you think the Whale would take something else?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Olga\u2019s thumb flicks the corner of the notebook where she draws homes for L\u00facio. She seems to pick her next words carefully, assembling a creature out of well-chosen pieces, so it doesn\u2019t break out of her control, so it doesn\u2019t hurt anything. \u201cThe Whale takes what she is given.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>If L\u00facio swam a little upward, he could see the window on the other side of the kitchen, the oval one with the pink curtains. The space there is an egg of darkness, circled by something as soft as a hand. Like a round crumb L\u00facio could swallow.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s up to Carlos, really,\u201d Olga says. \u201cIt\u2019s his art. He decides what he wants to show or not.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio knows it\u2019s impossible. He doesn\u2019t want to seem pathetic, longing for impossible things. \u201cThat\u2019s fair. I wouldn\u2019t want to, anyway.\u201d Maybe if he says it a lot, it will become true.<\/p>\n<p>Olga goes back to drawing. L\u00facio eats his crumbs, watches the sky behind her and chews.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr width=\"25%\" \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker works on a clay mold on his desk. The Kid stands in front of him, periodically waving the wooden arm up and down. From the aquarium, the mold looks human, which is absurd\u2014will the Kid get a human head again? What was the point of getting rid of the first one? The Lifemaker\u2019s fingers create small wells in the clay. L\u00facio imagines the Kid\u2019s vision narrowing, dark shadows festering in the corner of his eyes. He shivers. He doesn\u2019t want to imagine what the Kid sees.<\/p>\n<p>The pipes in the lab circle the ceiling, allowing L\u00facio to swim around until he is looking at the Lifemaker instead. His grey hair shines under the pale light. He squints, hands sliding over the block of clay, pressing on the corners, smoothing them out. His thumbs rub the brown matter with precision, as if he\u2019s digging to find something else inside. He barely notices L\u00facio, but it\u2019s fine. Whatever he\u2019s willing into being will never get as much attention from anything else.<\/p>\n<p>The next morning, the Lifemaker throws the block away. For the next three days, he tries other things. He sands a parakeet\u2019s skull, builds a dolphin\u2019s fin, braids a dozen cow teats. None of it works. He throws them all away, his gaze going between the Kid and his worktable with offended hurt, as if the Kid\u2019s existence is a testament against everything else he could be.<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio alternates between them and the windows. Sometimes lone fish fly by, tails pushing them forward with steady motions. When L\u00facio thinks of swimming in the sky, he wonders how it feels to travel without transparent walls surrounding him. Sometimes, he thinks it might be like falling. Other times, in the dark, the aquarium seems to contract around him. The windows feel like breaths, then, and he wishes someone would build more of those.<\/p>\n<p>One of those nights, he ends up in the storage room. The pipe there descends from the ceiling to a small, oval aquarium.<\/p>\n<p>Tonight the Kid is quiet. He sits on the mattress and drags his feet on the floor. Earlier, the Lifemaker worked on reorganizing his fingers. He removed two from his shoulder, but couldn\u2019t decide where to put them back. The remaining finger stands wrapped in white gauze.<\/p>\n<p>The sight is not gruesome: The bandages are clean and L\u00facio has seen much worse. What makes him stop is the Kid\u2019s hand, which reaches up and touches the gauze, fingers caressing the cotton over the now empty space on his body. His feet drag loudly against the floor.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou should leave it alone,\u201d L\u00facio says. \u201cI mean, you might open up a stitch.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The Kid looks at him. His eyes are close together, separated by the antenna. His hand rests on his shoulder, holding onto what is no longer there.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSorry,\u201d L\u00facio says. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean to pry.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The Kid walks to the aquarium. He leans so close his face blocks most of L\u00facio\u2019s view of the room. Staring straight ahead, the light hanging from his antenna becomes a third eye.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSorry,\u201d L\u00facio repeats. The Kid lets go of his shoulder, his hand coming to rest against the aquarium.<\/p>\n<p>Before L\u00facio can say anything, the Kid\u2019s image blurs; his pale eyes vanish under heavy mist, the dot of light a small remnant under the fog he blows on the glass.<\/p>\n<p>They stare at each other, wordless. Behind the fog, the Kid\u2019s face turns ethereal, as if he\u2019s floating. But L\u00facio can see the edges, the scales blending with the human skin of his neck. Behind the fog his features appear resilient, loud\u2014as if he could never be anything else, as if he is exactly as he should be.<\/p>\n<p>The Kid tilts his head a bit, and L\u00facio wonders, <em>what does he see? Does he think I look ready, too?<\/em><\/p>\n<p>A small line cuts through the foggy glass, a sharp trail of reality. The Kid runs his finger over the surface, creating a small curve, revealing his face only in that tiny breach. It\u2019s like he\u2019s carving a mask.<\/p>\n<p>The curve closes and turns upward. His finger slides slowly but intentionally.<\/p>\n<p>He\u2019s making a circle.<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio waits for him to finish with impatience. Afterward, though, the Kid just moves on, his hand going to another side of the tank and drawing a triangle. He traces lines to meet in the inside of the shape, like several fingers stretching out at once.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs that what you always do?\u201d L\u00facio says, thinking of the corners of the aquarium he doesn\u2019t like to visit, the spots he avoids because of the lingering sense of the Kid\u2019s presence. How many shapes he must have made there, how many drawings no one has ever seen.<\/p>\n<p>The Kid nods. He touches the surface next to the circle, the glass now an empty canvas. But he doesn\u2019t move.<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio takes a moment to understand what he\u2019s waiting for.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh,\u201d L\u00facio says, a bit hesitant. \u201cUh, I don\u2019t know. A square?\u201d The suggestion feels silly, but the Kid obeys, drawing a small square in quick gestures. The resulting sight gives L\u00facio a strange sensation. Something inside him clinks.<\/p>\n<p>The Kid makes a star right next to the square, then looks at him as if saying <em>your turn<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio summons every shape he knows (oval, lozenge, rectangle) but none of them feel right. He takes his time. The Kid doesn\u2019t seem to mind, standing there with a quiet, gentle expectation.<\/p>\n<p>The spiral Olga showed him blooms in his mind, the line curling on itself in her notebook. The image weighs heavy with affection. Suddenly, L\u00facio wishes the Kid could see it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCan you do something like this?\u201d he says. He\u2019s unable to sum up the image in one word\u2014he wants to cling to certain parts, to the soft angle in the first curve, to the smaller space between the second and the third, to the line as Olga made it. So he swims, right and down and very slowly, and the Kid follows him, his finger now L\u00facio\u2019s to guide. The growing spiral gives him an itch, an urge to do it once more, two, three times. \u201cThat\u2019s. That\u2019s it,\u201d he says. The complete drawing, the result of his movements, fills him with a sad pride. The spiral doesn\u2019t look like Olga\u2019s, not really\u2014the first curve is too open, the point where the second and third meet too wide\u2014but it\u2019s there. It\u2019s only there because of him.<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio feels big.<\/p>\n<p>The Kid draws a wheel next. Afterward, L\u00facio guides him to an oval, a different attempt at the same spiral, a sharp triangle reminiscent of the Guide\u2019s teeth. For some drawings he thinks a lot, for others not so much. Whenever it\u2019s the Kid\u2019s turn, L\u00facio tries to recognise whatever shape is forming. He doesn\u2019t always manage but when he does it\u2019s like finding out what he\u2019s thinking, like some kind of touch.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr width=\"25%\" \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker sews the two removed fingers onto the Kid\u2019s hand. The Kid kneels next to his chair, arm pulled across his lap.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTry moving them,\u201d the Lifemaker says. The Kid tries to curl his fingers, but the new ones don\u2019t obey. \u201cYou\u2019ll get used to it.\u201d The Lifemaker pushes the Kid\u2019s new fingers into the same position as the other four. Was that how he made L\u00facio, too? L\u00facio\u2019s first memory is opening his eyes in the tank, but how many attempts had failed before?<\/p>\n<p>That night, after the Lifemaker leaves, the Kid draws on L\u00facio\u2019s aquarium with his four original fingers, the new ones twitching at times and messing up the lines he\u2019s trying to make. They stick to simple figures, then. The Kid draws a wobbly star around L\u00facio, and it feels like a gift.<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker returns in the morning. He examines the Kid\u2019s fingers, pleased by how well they\u2019re healing. He holds them down, his hand covering the Kid\u2019s smaller fist as he whispers, \u201cGood. Looks good.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He turns to his schematics. The Kid takes his hand under his chin, rubs the spot he touched.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI scribbled something in bed yesterday,\u201d the Lifemaker says, seemingly to no one, going through pages. He searches his pockets, then slaps his forehead, leaving to get the draft in his bedroom.<\/p>\n<p>His papers lie scattered on the table. When the Lifemaker closes the door behind him, the Kid leans closer. L\u00facio swims to the pipe right above. They look at numerous previous versions of the Kid, some of which L\u00facio remembers, others he has never seen.<\/p>\n<p>The Kid pulls a specific paper from the bottom of the pile. It\u2019s a picture of a small boy, fully human. The Kid\u2019s chest heaves until L\u00facio realizes he\u2019s making some kind of joke. He fakes a laugh, but the view of the very first idea for the Kid disturbs him. He imagines the versions of himself that might still lie in a drawer next to the Lifemaker\u2019s desk, midnight ghosts who never met the morning. If L\u00facio saw them, he might not even know they were ever meant to be him. But the Kid recognises himself, pointing to the head and the shoulders and the shorter neck and the longer legs, marking every difference.<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio wants to ask if it hurt, those first moments, when he opened his eyes to the world. But he knows better. It never hurts to be made. It\u2019s the undoing that hurts, the reshaping, the becoming endless versions of yourself.<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker comes back, new schematic in hand. With a pen, he makes markings on the Kid\u2019s head. The lab\u2019s light flickers, the old lightbulb finally going off, but the Lifemaker goes on. He extends a measuring tape around the Kid\u2019s face, tightening it under his eyes. The bright dot hanging from the Kid\u2019s forehead is the only thing illuminating the room. As the Lifemaker leans forward, the light catches certain angles of his face, casts shadows in others. As if the Kid could be shaping him, too; as if he is becoming something else.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr width=\"25%\" \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>When he makes progress on the Kid, the Lifemaker\u2019s humor improves. He whistles as he walks through the mansion. He invites Olga for dinner, drinks with her in the dining room saying he\u2019s figured it out, this is it, the Whale won\u2019t know what to say. He looks happier than L\u00facio has seen in a while.<\/p>\n<p>Their drawings grow more elaborate: They make the Guide together, and when the Kid\u2019s finger closes the gap at the end of the tail, L\u00facio feels accomplished. It doesn\u2019t come close to the Guide\u2019s majesty, but it\u2019s her shape, just filtered by his movements. Not her, but a version of her a little bit his.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere you are,\u201d Olga\u2019s voice comes from the doorway. She walks in as the Kid is drawing his idea\u2014a large round shape L\u00facio thinks might morph into the Lifemaker\u2014and leans in to watch. \u201cOh, what is that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The Kid ignores her, his finger in the middle of a downward curve. Olga notices the other drawing.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDid you make that?\u201d Her tone is hard to read. L\u00facio feels strangely exposed. \u201cIs that the Guide?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah,\u201d L\u00facio says. Then, emboldened, he lets out: \u201cI drew it.\u201d The words sound needy. He waits as Olga looks at his drawing. He feels uncomfortable seeing someone looking at what he made. He wonders if the image is ugly in her eyes, or silly. Suddenly it\u2019s as though whatever Olga thinks of the drawing will change it forever, the reflection in her pupils reshaping every line. While drawing, he hadn\u2019t considered anyone else\u2019s gaze, but now the threat of her opinion holds him like a soft, large hand, ready to hold him up or drop him on the ground.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt looks good!\u201d she says.<\/p>\n<p>Her smile is how L\u00facio imagines a caress must feel. He wants to make a thousand more drawings. He wants to show them all, to everyone. He has just eaten the heartiest meal of his life.<\/p>\n<p>The Kid finishes his piece as Olga leaves. It\u2019s not the Lifemaker, but the Whale, large and powerful, a blend of concave angles and semicircles. L\u00facio exclaims in appreciation. The Kid stomps his feet. With the Whale and the Guide between them, they could both be outside, flying.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr width=\"25%\" \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>They draw for the rest of the night, until the Kid grows too tired. After he goes to bed, L\u00facio wanders the pipes all over the mansion. Since he and the Kid started drawing, the aquarium feels smaller than ever.<\/p>\n<p>Olga and the Lifemaker sit at his desk, both working in the dark, under candlelight. Olga draws, her lips pressed together, humming softly as her pen traces her next sculpture. The Lifemaker hunches forward as if the materials are wild animals prone to run away from him at any moment. His forehead is bright against the light, and his expression is loose, filled with a feeling L\u00facio now identifies as relief.<\/p>\n<p>Seeing them together makes L\u00facio wonder about the time they spent estranged, when the Lifemaker made him. Olga had told him she could barely recall the reason they fought in the first place. She said human siblings fought, that it was in their nature\u2014hadn\u2019t been the first time for them, and \u201ccertainly won\u2019t be the last.\u201d L\u00facio wondered who the Lifemaker would create, then, next time she wasn\u2019t talking to him. He wondered about having a companion so certain even inevitable separation could feel temporary. Was that how the fish in the shoal felt, swimming ahead of the Guide? Knowing that even if they lost their way, they could always find it back, and wouldn\u2019t ever have to be alone?<\/p>\n<p>Olga stops drawing for a moment, rests her pen. Her eyes wander her brother\u2019s face. \u201cSeems like it\u2019s going well,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker glows. L\u00facio thinks back on Olga\u2019s smile, earlier, after seeing his drawing. He and the Lifemaker have eaten from the same table. \u201cThank you,\u201d the Lifemaker says.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI can\u2019t believe he\u2019s leaving,\u201d Olga says. The Lifemaker\u2019s fingers sink in the clay. \u201cYou know he and L\u00facio have gotten close. Saw the two of them playing today.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The word <em>playing<\/em> pokes L\u00facio\u2019s chest.<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker seems a bit intrigued by this, but not enough to look away from his work. Olga\u2019s face shows sadness. \u201cL\u00facio drew the Guide,\u201d she says. \u201cHe thinks about her. I think he\u2019d love to be out there, even if he won\u2019t admit it. Poor thing.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Shame floods L\u00facio\u2019s mouth. The drawing\u2014the stupid drawing; the little play between him and a creature still only half-done\u2014turns into a flashlight in his mind, a brand to burn his body with everything he never wanted to say. Why hadn\u2019t he thought of that? The fog, the lines\u2014under them he had turned transparent, his desires naked, every trace a hole through which one could peek into the most pathetic parts of him.<\/p>\n<p>He swims away, wanting a hideout that doesn\u2019t exist. No dark corners are dark enough. He remembers the Kid\u2019s drawing\u2014the Whale. How long had he longed for her, observed her, to commit those traces to memory? And there it is, ugly and loud, the pity that tainted Olga\u2019s words. L\u00facio is not immune, no\u2014he too can look through the lines on the glass and divine what moves the hands drawing them, see what wants fill the Kid\u2019s mute, anglerfish head, flinch at their shapes.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr width=\"25%\" \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The entire next day Olga is at the mansion, L\u00facio hides. He avoids the Lifemaker after she leaves, too. Only when the Kid is called back to the lab does L\u00facio gather the courage to swim inside.<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker is still giddy. The finished mold sits in his hands, a human face merged with an anglerfish\u2019s: an antenna growing between eyebrows, sharp teeth in a much smaller mouth. He places it over the Kid\u2019s current face. The clay makes a stranger out of him.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat do you think, L\u00facio?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>There is only one answer in his mind, and he wants L\u00facio to give it anyway.<\/p>\n<p>But L\u00facio is still thinking of the drawing, the hunger he naively bared on the walls between him and everything he dreams of. Shame curled up inside him all night, and now it\u2019s waking up, stretching into pettiness.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt looks odd,\u201d he says. \u201cIt doesn\u2019t fit well.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker stills. \u201cYou \u2026 you think so?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s like a weaker version of Cantala,\u201d L\u00facio says. Not necessarily a lie\u2014he can spot Cantala in the corners of the mold\u2019s eyes. Maybe he could spot other creations, too, if he tried. Fingerprints.<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker looks weak himself. He turns to the mold as if he hadn\u2019t seen it before. \u201cI \u2026 I suppose you\u2019re right.\u201d His voice sounds small. Maybe smaller than L\u00facio.<\/p>\n<p>He removes the mold and leaves the lab. The Kid stands there, half-done, waiting. L\u00facio avoids his eyes.<\/p>\n<p>Later that night, the Lifemaker breaks the mold. He smashes the clay on the ground, the pieces all around him, like he has broken several things at once.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThank you for being honest, L\u00facio,\u201d the Lifemaker says, breathing heavily. \u201cThe Whale would know. It\u2019s just me trying to compensate for Cantala.\u201d He rolls a strand of hair several times around one finger and pulls. \u201cYou\u2019re a smart one, my friend. I remember when I made you\u2014I wanted you to be smart.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio swims low, closer. He\u2019s never heard this before. \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFor conversation, of course,\u201d the Lifemaker says with a flippant gesture.<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio imagines the Lifemaker then, when Olga wasn\u2019t talking to him, sitting in his lab alone every night. The dark hallways, no sound other than his scribbling, the occasional noise from the Kid, his carving of materials. What else could he have imagined, then? In that empty house where he could make anything? He screamed in the pit inside his mind, and his longing echoed throughout, and he dug through clay and want and at the bottom he found L\u00facio. At the bottom, his hands held his pain and bent it into something else.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhen the Whale comes by to get him,\u201d the Lifemaker says, \u201cI\u2019ll be ruined. She will find me so pathetic.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The drawing of the Guide is vanishing somewhere on a glass wall, sinking into L\u00facio\u2019s mind where no one else can see. L\u00facio is a bit relieved. No one needs to know how much he thought of her.<\/p>\n<p>He ruminates on that relief, swimming closer to the edge of the aquarium, as close as he can get. How many unborn failures lie inside the Lifemaker\u2019s head? How many showed something he hadn\u2019t foreseen, something he wanted buried? How many of them could hide the fingerprints on their skin, the marks that would bind them to L\u00facio, to Cantala, to the Kid\u2014and, always, to the Lifemaker? The longing Olga read in L\u00facio\u2019s drawing, whatever the Lifemaker thinks the Whale will see on the Kid\u2014fingerprints on glass and clay, betraying the fears and longings of those who left them. L\u00facio thinks he finally understands why the Lifemaker hurt the Whale. He remembers his shame when Olga saw through his drawing. Could anyone do as the Lifemaker wanted\u2014create without revealing? Maybe giving shape to your pain always means letting others drag their tongues over it.<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio wishes he could touch the Lifemaker, now. All the hurt he gave life to, while trying to stay hidden. L\u00facio wishes he could sink his head next to his creator\u2019s and tell him he understands.<\/p>\n<p>Instead, he presses his face to the glass. \u201cLet me go with him,\u201d L\u00facio says. \u201cI want to go with him.\u201d He wonders if the Lifemaker has ever heard him say anything other than the echoes of his own pain. Keeping him in the darkest corners of his home, in the hopes no one else would hear: <em>I am the shape of his loneliness. I am a wound he brought into being.<\/em> L\u00facio\u2019s face hurts against the aquarium\u2019s wall. There\u2019s so much else he could tell people. So much else he wants to be. \u201cLet me go.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker stands up, and L\u00facio repeats his mantra, over and over. He will say it until it carves a way out.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr width=\"25%\" \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>For a week L\u00facio follows the Lifemaker all over the house: keeps him from sleeping, interrupts his work, ruins his meals. Contrary to his expectations, the Lifemaker doesn\u2019t get angry. Instead, he focuses on menial work on the Kid: fixing his clothes, giving him shoes.<\/p>\n<p>The only breaks L\u00facio takes are to draw. He draws the Guide, draws things part her, part tunnels. The Kid gives his own take on her image, makes her huge with small versions of her face all over her body. They draw the shoal. Soon what L\u00facio wants most in the world is to cover every reachable glass wall, breathe on every corner of the Lifemaker\u2019s house. L\u00facio pushes through the embarrassment of his desire, lets it all be loud.<\/p>\n<p>Olga stays with them, her smile hard to decipher. L\u00facio wonders what her fingerprints look like, where they lead: For so long he never thought to look for them, living inside of anything she made.<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker comes in at one of those moments. He glances at the drawings. Then his gaze sinks onto the Kid. What does the Lifemaker see in him? From which hole in his soul did he crawl? Maybe L\u00facio will never know. Maybe no one will, or everyone. It\u2019s an answer that can\u2019t be found until someone else\u2019s eyes find him and form the question. Everything needs to exist, first.<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker looks at L\u00facio. L\u00facio wishes he could ease his fear; wishes he could promise that whatever part of him his body carries, he hopes to carry gently.<\/p>\n<p>He knows he can\u2019t promise that.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLet me go,\u201d he says instead. \u201cI want to go.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The Lifemaker nods. He reaches forward and splays his fingers over the glass, then pulls back, surrounded by fog. Through the handprint, L\u00facio sees his face so clearly.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr width=\"25%\" \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The Whale arrives on time, her body twisting in a mass of darkness blacker than the sky. The Kid leaves, and L\u00facio goes with him. The Lifemaker opens up the lid of the aquarium with shaky hands. L\u00facio swims outside, into the night sky, and brushes his face as he passes, a last touch on his birthplace.<\/p>\n<p>They see the Whale docked at the entrance, her huge eyes turned toward them. Her tongue is eager but gentle. L\u00facio, who has only ever been touched by the Lifemaker, trembles as the wet warm tissue covers him, hides the sky. For a moment the world turns pink and grey. Whatever she tells the Lifemaker, they can\u2019t hear.<\/p>\n<p>After tasting them, she opens her mouth wide. Her massive tongue extends for the Kid to step onto. L\u00facio flies by his side as he stumbles forward, though he won\u2019t follow him in. The Kid finds his grounding quickly. He turns to L\u00facio and jumps, feet sinking into soft tissue and bouncing upward as his chest heaves in his now familiar laugh.<\/p>\n<p><em>Take your time<\/em>, the Whale says, though her mouth doesn\u2019t move. Her voice is softer now. The tunnel of her throat is dark red marked by the hanging shape of her uvula. The walls are curved inward, tightening into the distance. Her warmth pulses, inviting, and her insides could lead one anywhere, the path to all paths.<\/p>\n<p>The Kid\u2019s silhouette is stark against the red tunnel. The light on his esca colors the whale\u2019s gums pink.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGoodbye,\u201d L\u00facio says.<\/p>\n<p>The finger on the Kid\u2019s shoulder wriggles. He turns his back to L\u00facio as he walks inside. His esca carves his small shadow in the Whale\u2019s tongue. In that light, with the entire universe ahead of him, he is shaped by other worlds, and he could be anything he wants, even beautiful.<\/p>\n<p>L\u00facio doesn\u2019t wait until he vanishes. He swims upward, above the Whale. He watches her body glide beneath him, and in her blue vastness is surprised to find an ending, the curved tips of her tail trailing behind. He looks over at the mansion: the dark smooth walls, the single tower standing upright, the jagged rocky underside bearing it all.<\/p>\n<p>He thinks: It\u2019s small.<\/p>\n<p>Then he thinks: no. But he can go farther.<\/p>\n<p>He swims ahead as he sees the first colors of the other fish glimmering in the distance. Two yellow giant carps reach him first, swimming together as if they were one. As L\u00facio approaches, they open a way for him, a gate to the mass of silver sardines bouncing light like moving stars. Their small bodies brush L\u00facio in flickers of touch, making him giggle in both fright and surprise.<\/p>\n<p>Swimming to the side, he is flanked by the massive moonfish. L\u00facio stays close to him for a moment, delighted to notice the lack of teeth in his gaping mouth,\u00a0big enough to swallow a comet. Blue ribbon eels swim above with a swishing noise. L\u00facio follows them for a bit, swimming between their curves, up and down the loops of their moving tails, as if he\u2019s sewing something. Way ahead, the Whale lets out a comforting hum that thrums through the sky all the way to his body, her voice its own kind of current. L\u00facio looks down. A mass of grey skin streaked with bright white startles him. He has to swim a bit upward to watch the endless sleek texture thin out in lines blooming in the triangular shapes of a manta ray\u2019s wings. She is almost as big as the Whale. L\u00facio has never seen her, swimming so far below the view afforded by his tiny window.<\/p>\n<p>So much more, he thinks, looking every which way. So much more.<\/p>\n<p>Later, when he passes by another mansion, or a house, or a ship, he will catch a glimpse of the people inside, and he will think of Olga and the Lifemaker, will hear them talking in the kitchen, ideas for lives and homes bouncing between them. He will think of the fish around him as drawings, lopsided lines showing up on a new canvas. He will wonder about the texture of ink. And when he swims beyond the shoal\u2019s rear, exploring and later turning back to follow the great light ahead, he will think of the Kid, the small brightness he carries. The windows he will make.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p>Editor: <a href=\"http:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/masthead\/staff-bios\/#HebeStanton\">Hebe Stanton<\/a><\/p>\n<p>First Reader: <a href=\"http:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/masthead\/staff-bios\/#AignerLorenWilson\">Aigner Loren Wilson<\/a><\/p>\n<p>Copy Editors: <a href=\"\/masthead\/#CopyEditingDepartment\">Copy Editing Department<\/a><\/p>\n<p>Accessibility: <a href=\"\/masthead\/#WebDepartment\">Accessibility Editors<\/a><\/p>\n<br class=\"clear_both\"\/>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>After visits from the Whale, when the Lifemaker retreats to his chambers, L\u00facio swims to the aquarium by the window, where he and Olga watch the fish fly by. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":81,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[719],"class_list":["post-58300","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","tag-content-warning"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p82q22-fak","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/58300","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/81"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=58300"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/58300\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":58384,"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/58300\/revisions\/58384"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=58300"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=58300"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/strangehorizons.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=58300"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}