by M E Wise
Their eyes are strange. Their touch is forced and not measured. What are they? What am I?
I wake with a stretch to find that I am not alone. Unlike the last time I regained consciousness, I am no longer tanked like some specimen. My quarters smell strongly of blossoms telling me a Tah’l must be nearby. Q’ua Z stands quietly in a far corner watching over me, somewhere between mad scientist and sentry. I jump visibly as S’lei leans down in front of me! She is not what I expected waking up here, but under the circumstances the visit is not out of bounds. I am startled but relieved she is here.
“Don’t be frightened young being!” S’lei says with a pleasant smile, something completely new from my experience with the Mor’h. The Lo’Mor’h tried to smile for my sake but it was a more exaggerative widening of their mouth or an awkward lengthening of their thin lips horizontally, almost distracting from the effort. S’lei though obviously was making an effort to settle me. Her broken speech though is common beyond group links. Understanding my words and her using them is all on her.
“How long?” I asked and braced for the answer.
“Your body went into a coma for several days. We kept you in that state for a week to make sure you recovered properly instead of willing yourself forward before you were healed. Humans are not rooted well; their fight or flight mechanisms cause them to react unlike the Mor’h.” S’lei puzzles over her words. I am not sure if that is what she meant to say. The tilt of her head while saying it was as much curious as it was contemplative. She wrinkled her brow and tried to read my face rather than link.
“Forgive my tongue. I know not how to address your own uniqueness without describing the parts.” Her brow furrows bunching high toward the crest growing on her head. I can feel her sincerity and this too is something less evident in the Lo’Mor’h. Q’ua Z approaches dwarfed by S’lei when side by side. He takes my hands and turns them down, then upward, and asks me to move my fingers and bend my wrists. I stand and wobble slightly. They both move to my support but I wave them off. “Slowly.” He says as I am guided around the room.
“Aside from the woozy reception I feel fine.” I let slip while thinking about it. “Can I get some air?”
“Air is all around you Reign.” Qz answers me with a false grin. We have had this linguistic challenge before when I had learned some human phrases and euphemisms not used in Mor’h communication. I relished comedians who used wild gestures and words called curses! I don’t believe it was as much appreciated by my Lo’Don’s, a word for anyone who instructs. And I was carefully instructed to restrain such language. I personally didn’t understand such a strict control of expression, maybe it is because the Mor’h haven’t maintained a spoken or written language for so long.
I chuckle as we leave the column I have lived in my entire life. S’lei exits carefully and barely clears the header of the entryway. Now I know why all of the doors were so oversized for the Lo’Mor’h. At a younger point in my life I had fantasized they had altered all the doors for me because I was going to become a giant. Many times I made colored drawings of a giant me sitting happily with tiny Lo’Mor’h resting on my shoulders and surrounding me as their token protector. Crushed beetle crabs were scattered about to illustrate my heroic status. Qz and Wan Sah told me these imaginings were very entertaining and undeniably human. It wasn’t to dismiss my behavior but to carefully give reason for the differences I had.
S’lei permeates the air with the breeze and her coloring shifts radiantly in the daylight. I noticed this was ever so subtle in the Lo’Mor’h but the Tah’l seem to literally respond to nature. I can’t help but to be effected by witnessing it and find myself smiling and staring. She looks down at me silhouetted in the sun and I, for once; am aware that I am connected. As alien as I am, I know this person and I feel at ease. Something is different about the Tah’l, within the Tah’l.
“This place has held our roots, fed our limbs and enriched our lives for as long as we have existed.” S’lei says profoundly. “What we have done to our beings, both Tah’l and Lo’Mor’h was to protect this world above all. Over five hundred million transitions…” She pauses to look at me and then out toward the tree line, “correct that, years have seen our seasons come and go. And the time begged us to see the life before our own. We warred, toiled and struggled to find the serenity we have now. It could not have been achieved so separately.”
“The Lo’Mor’h are the product of voluntary sampling of both old culture and what was left of the different gardens divided in different soils. Their numbers over time were rendered smaller and smaller. The 3,500 cycled now were once greater. But each cycle had differences that must be removed or suffer regression and lose more seasons. The Tah’l, we are fewer. We are Mor’h.” S’lei laments as if to be reliving an old haunt.
At first my lips part to speak but I stop and then think about what I want to say. A delicate question won’t offend. But an accusatory stance would surely damage our relations. Still I needed to know more. “How many are left S’lei?” I ask compassionately.
“The Lo’Mor’h brings our numbers to a sustained 5,000.” She answers as if she was prepared to, knowing I would ask it.
I find myself looking at the ground to find some foothold in what that means. Half avoiding becoming emotional by this news and not fully knowing my place in all of it either. They really are on the verge of extinction. They balance their existence not out of fear but out of hope they can sustain their life, their culture for as many seasons as they can. I walk a few steps forward. “You are afraid my other people would take this from you. You are concerned they would enslave you like a resource, conquer you or worse eradicate you.”
S’lei and Qz look to each other with relief. “You are the messenger Reign,” says Q’ua Z. “Whatever happens we have to prevent the worst. Contact with mankind caused a great pollution. In that though you were born. It was not without great effort or sacrifice.” I get the very strong sense Q’ua Z wasn’t being as forth-coming as S’lei.
“What would you have me do?” I felt I had asked this before back in the council sharing but now outside of the distressful link my words are more clear. With more truth, at least an honest history of why the Mor’h may feel threatened, I can ask it while honoring myself to the request.
“You will be given a craft. It will appear in the same design of Earth craft but it will be of our make. Inside it will carry our technology and you. The shell will house and hide anything unfamiliar.” S’lei explains. Such a plan wasn’t conceived overnight.
“A Trojan horse then?” I say restrained, knowing my Lo’Don Q’ua Z would understand my reference.
“Not at all Reign. We do not want conflict. If you must connect it to such legend, then think of Hermes of similar period lore.” Qz retorts to settle S’lei who apparently missed the reference.
“So a messenger of the Gods! Are the Mor’h Gods over men?” I quip knowing that is not what Qz tried to elude. I smile to cool his alarm. “I am kidding!”
Q’ua Z’s pupils narrow. “You will represent a peace. And you will not be alone.”
“Somehow I don’t think I should be towing aliens who have barricaded a people with me.” I gesture to both myself and Qz. “It will be hard enough to play the part of human myself!”
“Your Lo’Nor has been chosen specifically from our archives to be more than sufficient.” says Qz.
I am confused. “A pilot of artificial intelligence is limited. How will that help me alone and separated from Mor’h?”
S’lei glides away leading the two of us to follow. Her pace is quick but I manage well. Qz though lags behind. “I will show you!” S’lei says confidently.
“Why not link with me?” I ask weathered from our brisk walking.
“It is too dangerous for you now, or at least this soon.” Qz chimes in from behind us.
We join a tram and two Lo’Mor’h step back as if to acknowledge the rarity of a Tah’l doing this. S’lei
links directions to the tram and we launch forward. The Lo’Nor greets S’lei, “Great Season, Tah’l S’lei!” She seemingly ignores it. We reach our destination near a spaceport, proceed to the platforms center and take an elevator down a level into the substation.
Many Lo’Mor’h wearing strange reflective armor and protective coverings work diligently on different tasks. I smell electricity and burning resins. I then see it, an oddly cigar shaped fuselage about 30 feet long lined with port windows leading back from the nose to an area still under construction resembling a saucer. The two parts merge at the circles center. The total length nears 75 feet and 3o feet across the saucer section. I am reminded of a treat Earth children called a sucker. We walk past the building area and into a room that is for design and observation.
A rough looking Tah’l with a thorny crest turns to reveal an ocular attachment that reflects a light back to us then clears. He greets S’lei, and Qz seems to acknowledge his authority as either Tah’l or some other Designat with a strange sway and hand motion. This too is acknowledged. I glance out the observation window where there is a full view of the ship being built. It is of definite Earth design though a statelier design than the war craft I experienced in the sharing a week ago.
“I am Tah’l T’laj.” Said the rough Tah’l in a gravelly voice. His robes shifted colors like they vibrated. “I am told this will be your vessel Reign.”
“Wrong, it is my body!” Came a voice from all around us. “I will carry this being and preserve both in the process.”
“This Lo’Nor will be a challenge,” Grumbles T’laj.
“Is the interface in disrepair or damaged?” Asks S’lei. Q’ua Z exams a physical interface board and brings up a photo-electric projection. As the imagery and code transition quickly on the screen Qz says, “Nominal efficiency and minimal confusion.”
“I am not confused.” Boldly states the Lo’Nor. “Communication of the tongue is clumsy and makes for poor translation. My incorporation into the framework has found a complication in vocal reproduction…” The voice squelches and causes noticeable cringes in myself and the others. “…this is an unacceptable difficulty that will be remedied.”
T’laj approaches me. “I understand your sharing with the council caused injury. We have made many adjustments to systems all across Mor’h to correct our communication. Before you existed none of our Lo’Don training, Lo’Nor pilots or interface had a spoken language. It is crude to
our…programming.” He places a hand on my opposite shoulder, his nature obviously more aggressive and more male than S’lei. “This Lo’Nor is made up of five distinct individual minds merged into one collective union. It is not our first time to do this, the Lo’Mor’h are the deciduous result of this process. But these minds are so distinctly different they have formed a new mind to compensate.”
“Deciduous?” I ask not trying to appear ignorant.
“The Lo’Mor’h are not on the surface the same. Much like trees in a forest though, they are clones of each other and in their case, each singular Lo’Mor’h are connected like a single organism much like an Aspen colony on Earth. We have forests here that are much the same. Our entire Mor’h species functions this way conceptually. I am sorry that is as close as I can explain it.” T’laj versed the telling so well that I was momentarily stunned. Language was apparently his domain.
“The Mor’h are apparently adapting to me more than I am becoming Mor’h or Human.” The realization was humbling.
“Who am I if not Lo’Nor?” Asks the Lo’Nor to the bemusement of all present.
“You are Lo’Nor. That is all.” States Qz. His voice felt empty and cruel.
“Are you asking who you are besides being a Lo’Nor?” I empathetically intervene.
“The confusion needs resolution. Lo’Nor is apparently an appointment. A position I adequately fulfill but this ignores my abilities. Lo’Nor is not I. Lo’Nor is not separate.” States the voice emphatically. The edition of the English language and spoken word has given this thought matrix a plethora of new descriptions of purpose and value.
“Reign, you seem to understand more than we do. Without the sharing, this awareness will not abate. What do you suggest?” S’lei looked to me with pride.
“You need a name. At least something to identify how you distinguish your…uh…unit and functionality.” I spoke outward as if to some specter in the room.
A series of beeps and a squelch proceed a quieter voice, “Lo’Nor will not suffice.”
I look around to the Mor’h faces in the room. T’laj seems intrigued. S’lei’s eyes shift back and forth, I believe her and T’laj are linked in a sharing; somehow I feel they are observing and waiting for my solution like a test. Q’ua Z remains uneasily neutral as well. I take the opportunity for what it is worth. The collective needed a designation or point of reference to merge its identities into one. This seemed like a simple problem to solve. But the Mor’h haven’t focused on names in a great many generations. The name Reign comes to mind.
“Lo’Nor you are Hermes.” I say without a second thought. I turn and look out at the craft being built. A Lo’Mor’h moves away from the rest of the working group and removes a holstered tool. His gravity suit lifts him up and the tool lights up with power and a glowing name is scribed in the side of the craft. ‘Hermes77’ burns hotly for a moment and settles into a black metallic lettering.
“This designate will be most efficient passenger Reign.” Says a more collected voice in the air.
We all watch as the ship goes together very quickly. In only a week the Mor’h have built this marvel. They are a united and focused people. I cannot believe there are so few. Part of me wishes I had more time to discover their history, in truth part of my own history. For now, I am diplomat and observer to my other people. I am both excited and frightened of what waits for me in the Sol system. Nothing I have experience besides studying the Sol system has prepared me for what’s coming. I think they are trusting this too much. Hiding my reservations is going to be difficult.
The Hermes 77 left a feeling in my stomach that inspired exploration, curiosity and a genuine hope that I may finally reach across the galaxy and find my way home. Wherever that may be? T’laj and S’lei still seemed connected in a trance. Sharing with them seemed out of the question, even beyond my current physical state. Q’ua Z seemed like he was growing distant. Something is changing in our relationship. Did the Mor’h feel jealousy? He didn’t seem concerned as much now as he was in the council chambers. Maybe he was afraid I wouldn’t represent him well. All of this was dizzying. I wiped away a bit of blood from my nose.
Plant your feet. The wind may carry you away.
The longer I made use of the sharing, the more I understood it. I found it was like a second nature. I could fish for information quickly, predict movement and ready all my senses for whatever perception I could gain in advance. I practiced this in the garden as the Hermes77 lifted from the space port for flight tests. Large bat-like moths flowed in streaking circles through the air. Some as large as birds of all sizes from Earth. Firefly moths were very random in their flights. But if I could link with them subtly without their notice I could follow their urges to where they might go. It was amazing! If I could do this, what could the Mor’h do?
The night cloaked most of my activity and made for a grand lightshow from the spaceport. What if the Mor’h couldn’t do this? The thought was intriguing. What if they were limited to experiencing each other in the link. Past experiences being the main source of their knowledge of each other. What if they didn’t feel the impulses or could predict actions so clearly? This would explain so many things. I lost concentration as the Hermes77 flashed into a phase jump high above in the night sky.
A brilliant hourglass shape of rippling light filtered around the ship. At central point it seemed hung in place. Then suddenly one side of the hourglass enveloped the other and it just disappeared. Did it vanish or did it move faster tha
n I could perceive it? These events had my mind on full alert. Everything was more interesting suddenly. I felt in touch with myself on a new level and whatever the future held I was willing to accept it.
Reign Chapter 5
I Come in Peace
“I come in peace.” I practice aloud while trying to keep a straight face. What would it even mean to do such a thing? Do you bring peace? Is it your companion? Here I am and I just so happen to have peace with me? The trip to the Sol system so far has been far from painless. The smaller size of our vessel requires multiple phase jumps. Each phase jump requires a phase shift that sort of charges the material being jumped forward. All of this has left me with a ton of time to get to know the collective matrix Hermes.
“I do not envy you Reign.” Says Hermes all around me. “A fifth of my personality matrix is the life work of a cultural historian and sociologist who studied Earth extensively. Did you know they practiced hanging and ritual execution as late as their 21st century?”
“How is envy even a possibility in your program Hermes?” I denote. I ignore the allegation in his references to prevent his further expansion on them. But as I have learned in the past month it will not stop it. It’s like having five different egos clamoring over each other to be the most annoying. There is no off button.