“Yes, but it’s an important thing in our language, logical or no, so I would prefer that we get it right, even if you don’t particularly care.”

“How do you define biological sex? Is it rooted in chromosomes, or gametes, or secondary sex characteristics?”

Cora paused, having never given this any thought. “I guess chromosomes.”

“What about animals whose secondary sex characteristics do not match their chromosomes?”

“Is that a thing?”

“I have no secondary sex characteristics, either by human standards or amygdaline standards. Humans grow breasts, or develop hair at puberty, or grow a certain body type. None of these apply to me. If I am said to have a recognizably human secondary sex characteristic, perhaps it could be larger stature. To amygdalines, that is associated with a female karyotype, in humans, a male karyotype. If we are to associate the secondary sex characteristic seen in humans of larger size, given that I am in a larger body relative to other amygdaline bodies, I am therefore male. If I were able to reproduce sexually, then the gamete cell I would produce would be a female gamete, an egg; therefore, I am female. But amygdaline chromosomes in females are heterogametic, as are human males; therefore, I am male. Do you see how a human framework for gender does not apply to me?”

“Yes, but, like you said, it’s a quirk of our language. I can’t call you ‘it.’ So should I start calling you ‘she’?”

“You should call me ‘he.’ In terms of social hierarchy, I more identify with masculinity. Moreover, it is important that I be viewed by others as your superior, and you as my subordinate. Therefore, it is beneficial that I be associated with masculinity and you with femininity. Being associated with maleness associates me both with a cultural default and with power, with trustworthiness. As you explained to me when we first began communicating, femininity is associated more with emotionality, with weakness, and with untrustworthiness. Male pronouns are more appropriate.”

And that was that. Female karyotype, functionally agender, but male pronouns and association with maleness was just more pragmatic. How poetic that the first thing she ever taught him was that femininity was associated with weakness and non-importance, and no one wants to be associated with that.

She gave Kaveh the short answer: “Ampersand prefers male pronouns. I guess . . . you should ask Enola what he . . . they prefer.”

“It is as you prefer, little cousin.”

“Do you have a . . . chromosomal . . . karyotype?” asked Cora.

“I HAVE A MALE KARYOTYPE.”

“Ah, well, that keeps it simple,” said Kaveh.

Cora inwardly thought that probably meant they should call Enola “she,” but kept that to herself.

“Nik and I have been having some interesting conversations these last couple days,” he said, putting a pen in the binder of his notebook, which she noticed was filled with notes and scribbles.

“Wait, ‘Nik’?”