Amygdala

by Harper J. Cole

  “Finishing up our tour,” said Hunter, “this is the Kohler-Schmid Drive. It lets us leap light-years across space in an instant.”

  “Remarkable! We guessed you must possess technology like this. There’s been much debate as to the technique you might be using.”

  “Ms. Grace here is our expert. She can explain.”

  “Thanks, Captain. Basically, Grand Merchant, we manipulate what we call ephemeral particles to knit together two points of space. There are several things we have to do right to make this possible…”

  Annie’s mastery of Matan was much worse than the captain’s, but she had rehearsed her explanation beforehand, and did a reasonable job of getting her meaning across. Haji listened in silence, save for the occasional request for clarification; his broad face, which had been expressive up until now, was suddenly unreadable.

  “So,” said Hunter when Annie had finished, “it’s obviously a must for traversing the sort of vast distances we’ve had to cross to reach you. Unfortunately,” she went on as casually as she could, “the device was damaged a few months ago. This makes our trip home rather more dangerous. We’re here for your help with repairs; if you don’t have the right equipment to work on our technology, we’re also happy to trade for whatever your equivalent is.”

  Haji stared at the KSD in silence for a long moment. Then he raised a hand in a gesture of submission.

  “Speaking honestly, this is technology beyond the wildest dreams of my people. We have the ability to teleport, of course, but it’s through no invention of our own. Vitana’s monoliths allow instantaneous transportation, but only from one colony to another.

  “I hope you’ll still trade with us, but we can’t repair this KSD of yours, nor replace it. When it comes to your return journey, we can’t help.”

  * * *

  Hunter sat by Haji in the front seat of his open-top automobile, trying her best to pay attention as he conducted a tour of the city. She prided herself on being emotionally robust – the many hours she’d spent practising meditation had helped in that regard – but she really needed some time alone to absorb this newest blow.

  With a guest to escort, there’d been no time for that. After completing his own tour in Engineering, the Grand Merchant had sampled their cuisine courtesy of a brief luncheon in the lounge area, then insisted on immediately repaying her hospitality.

  Word of Haji’s bombshell having quickly spread about the Bona Dea, very few of the crew had opted to join them. In the back seat sat Sandra Rivers, Daniella Winters and Annie Grace. Each of them, even the usually irrepressible technician, were noticeably subdued.

  The climate did little to improve their mood. This was certainly not the planet for Annie to fulfil her ambition of basking in the rays of an alien sun, Hunter mused. The pale orb of Ramira’s star appeared slightly smaller in the sky than Sol did from Earth but was proving to be a relentless bully. Waves of heat to which they were not accustomed washed over the women, harsh and draining.

  A lotion the Ramirans had given them for their exposed skin ensured they would take no lasting damage from ultraviolet rays. They had also been given the gomane robes that the natives wore. These were soft and relatively cool; Hunter had felt a sudden rush of air over her body several times, and guessed that the seemingly simple garments boasted concealed microcircuitry.

  Still, she felt every one of her sixty-one years, and a few more besides.

  “This region is prone to bursts of intense sandstorm activity,” Haji was saying, “but our walls are strong and our roots run deep. We’re expecting a particularly brutal storm in a few days; I hope you’ll stay with us long enough to see it. They’re very beautiful, when seen from the safety of an observation globe.”

  “I might have a look at it,” the captain responded non-committally. She let her eyes rove over the city. Smooth surfaces everywhere, buildings of three storeys or fewer, broad, squat and predominantly white, the monotony broken up occasionally by large transparent or reflective surfaces. Haji had been pointing out significant structures – laboratories, amusement centres and the like, but they all looked much the same from the outside.

  Then, in the distance, something very different. A jagged, grey peak towered over the surrounding buildings, twice as tall as any of them.

  Hunter pointed. “Over there! Is that…”

  “Ramira’s monolith. Yes.” Haji swung the car in that direction. “Looks haphazard, doesn’t it? Like a miniature mountain. But I’ve been to each of the other colonies in my time, and I can tell you that their own monoliths are identical, down to our smallest unit of measurement. We may never truly comprehend Vitana’s power.”

  The captain nodded. So, this was the means by which the Matans had been banished from their homeworld five centuries ago. When Vitana, the Earth God of Mahi Mata, had ordered an exodus, it had created the monoliths to facilitate the mass movement of people and equipment. Based on what Hunter had gathered from Chiri and Haji, each structure permitted instantaneous teleportation to any of the others. Mata itself was now an exception – its monolith had stopped receiving after a year, leaving the colonies with only each other for support.

  Might it be possible to reprogramme a monolith to send them back home? Or, failing that, far enough in the direction of home that they could jump the rest of the way back with the KSD? Highly unlikely, she knew; Chamonix had already stated that Vitana itself lacked that power. Still, every avenue had to be explored before she’d admit defeat.

  There was heavy security around the monolith. “I can’t take you inside the structure today,” said Haji, “even a Grand Merchant needs clearance beforehand. But I’ll drive us around the perimeter, so you can admire Vitana’s craftsmanship for yourselves.”

  The monolith looked rough and rocky from all angles. A mini-mountain, as the Ramiran leader had said; the captain estimated the peak to be about ninety feet high. The base was roughly circular, and perhaps a little over a hundred feet across at its broadest point. “Too small for the Bona Dea to fit…” mused Hunter.

  Haji glanced curiously at her. “Anyone wishing to take a ship through would have to disassemble and reassemble it,” he said. “You see that doorway there? The only entrance. We’ve no way to widen it, either; the structure has proven impervious to our technology. We haven’t been able to cut off even the smallest sample for separate study.

  “But if you want to explore the other colonies, and would prefer not to overtax your KSD, we can probably arrange for you to use the monolith. You’d just have to leave your ship here.”

  Hunter felt his gaze on her. Haji’s perceptive, she thought. He’s picked up on our mood. Already, he must be beginning to suspect that we haven’t told him the full story.

  “How do the monoliths function?” she asked, hoping to deflect their guide’s thoughts away from the KSD.

  “Very simply. A set of protrusions in the wall correspond to the other five colonies. Press the relevant one and everything inside the structure teleports instantly to the target monolith. It’s quite remarkable – one feels no sensation of displacement at all, yet the door opens on a foreign world. There’s also the option to block incoming traffic; a second set of protrusions lie alongside the first. When these are depressed, attempted teleportations from the relevant planet will be denied.”

  “Is that function used often?”

  “Fairly. Two of the colonies are in the same system: Monosade and Anasade. They’re frequently at war. But let’s speak no more of that for the moment. If you’ve seen enough of the monolith, I’d like to return your earlier hospitality, and show you my home.”

  “It would be an honour.”

  * * *

  The Grand Merchant’s house was no bigger or finer than any other in the city; a simple two storey building, roughly cube shaped, with smooth sides, and curved edges and corners.

  As soon as they were inside, Haji shrugged off his gomane. As had been the case with the Legans, the Ramirans evidently didn’t have a ma
jor taboo against exposure – he wore only what looked like a loincloth and broad sandals underneath. He proved to be every bit as well-built as he had appeared, muscles that would put most Earth body-builders to shame rippling beneath his dark skin. Highly impressive, considering that his balding pate and slightly lined face suggested middle-age.

  The women took off their own robes. The house was impeccably air-conditioned, a great relief after two hours spent in that savage heat and humidity.

  Annie caught her captain’s eye. The young technician tugged at her blouse with a questioning expression. She wanted to know whether they should follow Haji’s example and strip off a bit more.

  Hunter shook her head. Unlike Annie, who’d been raised in a neo-hippy naturist commune, she’d never be comfortable around strangers or business acquaintances while less than fully dressed. Rightly or wrongly, rolling up her shirt sleeves was about as much of a concession as she was willing to make in that regard. She wondered whether the Ramirans always dressed like this when they were indoors, or just when they were at home. Did they conduct trade negotiations in their underwear?

  She imagined some of the businesspeople she’d dealt with over the years, grey of hair and character, doing something similar. The mental picture was bizarre enough that she found herself smiling for the first time since they’d begun the tour.

  “I’ll see whether my wife’s in,” said Haji. “You should meet her.”

  “She is,” came a rich voice from a nearby chamber, “and they may.”

  Following Haji through a low archway – there seemed to be very few doors on this planet – Hunter found herself looking at a stocky yet sharp-faced Matan woman. She was seated and did not rise to greet them. Her skin tone was slightly lighter than Haji’s, her hair shoulder length and flecked with grey. The captain was unsurprised to find that she was dressed in the same manner as her husband; the fine hairs which covered her breasts and stomach were cut short save for two roughly circular patches over her left ribs. In fact, Hunter now noticed that Haji bore similar patches of growth. Tribal markings, or a show of unity between husband and wife? The Ramiran equivalent of getting a tattoo, perhaps?

  “Miriam, this is Grand Merchant Kalashamu.”

  The woman still remained seated but favoured them with the by now familiar gesture of greeting. “Kala is acceptable.”

  “Honoured to meet you. I must admit, I’m a little surprised to hear your rank. I’d assumed that there was only one Grand Merchant – the leader of your people.”

  “There are two,” said Kala. “Singular rulers are the mark of a decadent people.”

  “My wife oversees all internal matters,” explained Haji. “Law, tax, the distribution of food and resources and things of that nature. External matters fall within my purview: primarily trade and diplomacy with the other colonies.” He gave a toothy grin. “Greeting alien visitors may now be added to that list.”

  “And is it always a husband and wife that rule?”

  “No, but it’s important that the two Grand Merchants work well together as a team. I believe we’re the third ruling marriage, and our immediate predecessors were two brothers, who-”

  “Are you ill?” cut in Kala. She was staring at Annie.

  “What?” the technician was confused. “Ill? No.”

  “Then what’s wrong with your face?”

  Annie looked to her captain in bewilderment.

  “I think she means your freckles,” suggested Hunter. Exposure to the sun had darkened the little blemishes on Annie’s cheeks and forehead – they stood out sharply now, deep brown on a pink and white canvas. “They’re harmless,” she explained to the Ramirans, “and non-contagious. Our scientists could tell you the exact cause, if you’re interested, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

  Kala knitted her bushy brows. “She looks diseased.”

  Haji laughed ruefully.

  “Perhaps you see, Miriam, why I handle the diplomacy around here…”

  * * *

  “I do find it interesting, the physical differences between our peoples,” said Daniella Winters. “The planet that birthed your race is fairly similar to ours in terms of climate, but evolution has produced noticeably different results.”

  The four women from the Bona Dea were seated around a circular wooden table with Haji, drinking Ramiran tea. Kala, to Hunter’s quiet relief, had been too busy to join them.

  Hunter found the tea rather unpleasant. It was an odd concoction that managed somehow to be both too sweet and too sour at the same time, at least to her taste buds; Daniella was on her third cup in barely an hour.

  She was pleased to have the journalist along, as it saved her having to do the bulk of the talking. Daniella had peppered Haji with questions about his planet, which he had been happy to answer. Annie and Rivers had been largely silent, the former through an inability to follow the conversation, the latter, Hunter suspected, through choice.

  “Yes, though to hear you describe your men, they aren’t too different from us,” said Haji thoughtfully. “This sharp split between the genders intrigues me. Seeing you next to my wife, you appear quite fragile, if I may say so. Your mammary traits are also much more pronounced. Without visiting your planet, it’s hard to speculate as to the reason, but perhaps the large number and diversity of savage predators on our homeworld holds the key. Male or female, our ancestors had to be built to fight, or else they wouldn’t have survived.”

  The captain liked Haji a lot – from the moment when she’d finally met him face to face, he had struck her as honest, good-humoured and intelligent. If they were stranded here, at least they might be among friends, as difficult as the climate and gravity made this place for them.

  Time, perhaps, to start trusting the Ramirans a little more.

  “Speaking of Mahi Mata,” she said. “How much do you know of our adventures and discoveries when we visited it?”

  Haji swept a hand sideways. This gesture, Hunter had deduced, indicated confusion.

  “What is Mahi Mata?”

  “Sorry … I meant Srisade. We came up with our own name for your home world when we discovered it, because we didn’t know you had a prior claim. Perhaps you’d like to learn what happened to us there?”

  Haji leaned forward, his face showing a new intensity. “Yes. Very much.”

  He’s wanted to know this from the start, thought Hunter. Why not just ask? Considered bad manners, maybe? They must have all sorts of taboos we’re totally ignorant of. Hope we’re not coming across as too rude. I’ll have to remember to make any questions I ask as indirect as possible from now on.

  She stroked her lips thoughtfully. “I wonder how much you know already. You mentioned that you’d had some contact with the Legans…?”

  “Yes. They sent us a report some time ago, and I imagine that the other colonies received the same information. In brief, one of their scouts managed to land on Srisade without his ship being attacked by Vitana’s defence systems. A larger vessel was dispatched to destroy the planet and found you there.

  “The Legan captain sent a communiqué back to her superiors, describing you as explorers and explaining her decision to engage you in what her people think of as honourable combat. Soon afterwards she sent a second communiqué, saying simply “Vitana awakens”. Hearing nothing more from their ship, the Legans assumed that Vitana had destroyed it with all hands. They didn’t know whether you were responsible, but they cautioned us not to trust you. I’d advise you not to return to Srisadan space, as they’ve set up sentry ships around the planet; they wouldn’t hesitate to destroy your vessel.”

  “You still let us land, despite their warnings?” asked Daniella.

  “I did. If Vitana wanted us dead, I daresay we would be. Why would it dispatch minions to do the job? Your own vessel appears to have no weapons, anyway. And frankly, I’ve always found the Legan obsession with the Earth God unhealthy. I like them as a people, on the whole; they are honourable, they’d sooner chop their own feet off t
han break a contract – not that they need much prompting to remove body parts – and they’re utterly fearless. But they’re a humourless bunch.

  “Perhaps you’re in league with Vitana, perhaps not. I wanted to give you a chance in either case.”

  “I hope we don’t give you cause to regret that,’ said Hunter. ‘Let me tell you our side of the story…”

  It took some time. The captain wasn’t sure, when she started, just how much of the truth to tell, but in the end she found herself laying it all out for Haji: the discovery of the cyborgs below the surface of Mahi Mata, their own ship becoming trapped there, the fight with the Legans, the creation of Chamonix and the destruction of the enemy force. She even told him of the full extent to which the KSD was damaged, and that they had on board a hybrid who was, in part, Vitana incarnate.

  The Ramiran listen to the whole account in silence, his face set and unreadable. She didn’t know how he’d react - Fear? Anger? - but her instincts told her they wouldn’t find a better ally anywhere else.

  She trusted her instincts.

  “An astonishing tale indeed,” said Haji when she’d finished. He spoke slowly, as if still trying to process his own feelings on the matter. “I certainly can’t blame you for defending yourselves, or for showing your gratitude to this hybrid creature that saved you. As I said, we don’t share the Legan paranoia over Vitana. Perhaps I’ll have a chance to meet with Chamonix; she sounds remarkable.”

  “I think we were lucky to come to your world first.”

  “Oh, the other colonies have their strengths.” He smiled suddenly. “But ours is the best, yes.”

  “Haji, if you’ve any ideas as to how we might get home…”

  He scratched his crown thoughtfully but didn’t look hopeful. “Kerin is the most technologically advanced colony, but if they’ve developed the capacity for independent interstellar travel they’re keeping uncharacteristically quiet about it. They have a tendency to broadcast their accomplishments to anyone who’ll listen. Do you have schematics for how to build a KSD? We’d be happy to do that here – a trade of your knowledge for our labour and resources.”