Seven Sides of Self

by Nancy Joie Wilkie

  Finally, the hesitant Aurillian got up and walked the short distance over to Jarka’s seat and stopped directly in front of the exosociologist. “Excuse me, but aren’t you Jarka Moosha from Planet Earth—the one here to study our society?”

  “Why, yes I am,” said Jarka, relieved the Aurillian’s internal struggle appeared to be over and excited about an unscheduled interview.

  “May I speak with you?” Before Jarka could respond, the Aurillian asked a second question. “Would you mind if we walked while we talked?” The stranger backed away slightly as if to encourage Jarka to stand up.

  “Certainly. We can walk,” said a surprised but agreeable Jarka, perplexed because this Aurillian exhibited a forwardness not yet seen by Jarka during his interviews. “How may I be of assistance to you?”

  “I know you have come a very long distance to learn about Aurillia and how we interact as a society. I know you have been granted twelve interviews during your stay. My fear is that the Institute arranged the individuals whom you are to interview such that you would not be exposed to one seemingly small, but very critical, facet in our culture.

  “Jarka Moosha, it is very important to me you take me seriously. I am risking my life even by being seen with you, let alone speaking with you. In an effort to demonstrate to you just how serious what I have to say to you is, I am going to tell you my name.”

  “That is really not necessary,” said Jarka.

  “No, it is something I must do,” continued the nervous Aurillian. “My name is Casla. Actually—Caslarian Of The Sree Rian.” And without any further hesitation, Casla got directly to the point. Jarka sensed an urgency in the Aurillian’s high-pitched voice and fear in his repeated glances at the fellow pedestrians in the surrounding park.

  “There are Aurillians who are born Of One Color who have unexplainable desires to be Of The Other Color. I am one such individual. We who have this … inclination, for lack of a better word, have learned to conceal it. To be suspected of having this inclination is horrible. If an individual is proven to have the inclination—by whatever methodology or circumstance—it means death for the individual.”

  “What? Are you sure?” Jarka questioned. This information, to his knowledge, had not been included in the mission reports of the previous two expeditions to Aurillia. Maybe this is what Matan and Palan did not want me to find. “I thought your society abhorred violence,” he added.

  “It does. But Aurillia does not view the death of someone with this inclination as violence. It views it as survival—an obligation to the Supreme Sree, a necessary action to keep the world free of the evils from our past, a sort of cleansing to keep our society pure.”

  Casla went on in a manner very uncharacteristic for an Aurillian. “Rumors of color-crossing run through our society. Though color-crossing is rare, it does exist. It has erroneously come to connote illness, mistrust, and evil. Its existence is even denied by the very individuals who are inflicted by its forceful presence. Our society is filled with moral critics who, by insisting on the horror of color-crossing, have planted a strong distaste in every member of Aurillian society. They have taken something not harmful and created an impenetrable barrier between the Colors. The true victims of color-crossing are not the countless millions in our otherwise pristine masses, but rather those who must struggle daily with its curse on the inside and the discrimination waged against our kind on the outside.

  “Color-crossing in its simplest form is nothing more than making a choice for ourselves, reversing a choice made for us when we were born, without the chance to come to know ourselves or speak for ourselves. Those who upon reaching the age of maturity and make a decision to follow their feelings, do so with the disapproval of others. I believe other Aurillians are jealous of those who make such a choice, jealous of the courage to feel what might be inside and to act on those feelings.”

  “Does anyone else know of your inclination?” inquired Jarka a bit hesitantly.

  “The One With Whom I Share is not aware of this thing,” responded Casla. There were several moments of silence. They continued to walk through the now almost empty park.

  Casla continued. “But I have a friend named Asdra, one Of The Green, whom I have known for many cycles. Recently, I sought out Asdra because the One With Whom I Share has become increasingly distant. I had developed a need to share knowledge of my inclination with someone. I came to feel I could not bear the burden of it alone any longer. I learned to trust Asdra. One night, I took a risk and told Asdra of it. Asdra understood. We often share time together, discuss this thing, and there is comfort. To my surprise, Asdra told me of a sibling who is Of The Green and wishes to be Of The Gold.”

  “Have you ever changed your appearance—I mean on a temporary basis—such that you follow through on your inclination and present the image of one who is Of The Green?” Only the constant hum of insects followed the question.

  Casla finally nodded in an affirmative motion and whispered, “Yes—I am embarrassed to admit this. Every cell in my body is filled with shame.” A look of intense pain crossed Casla’s face.

  “When I heard a sociologist from Earth was to visit our planet, I knew I must contact you and make you aware of our plight,” Casla said with a renewed sense of urgency. “I was certain all of your arranged interviewees would be instructed to avoid any mention of individuals such as myself.”

  “You are very right about that, my new friend,” comforted Jarka.

  “You must find a way to raise this issue with Matan and Palan and beg them to understand. Likewise, you must tell Earth. Perhaps your planet might be able to bring some pressure to bear on our government to stop killing those of my kind.”

  Nearly half an hour had passed since Casla started talking to Jarka and already he felt a special closeness to this courageous individual. He wasn’t certain he understood the concept of color-crossing entirely, but he knew of similar things on Earth. But he was more concerned about Casla’s safety. Though grateful for the piece of knowledge Casla gave him, he did not want that gain to come at the expense of Casla’s life.

  Jarka sensed something had changed in his Aurillian companion; perhaps Casla felt some relief—some peace. Jarka knew this issue could not remain buried here on Aurillia. But he also knew this planet would not easily allow news of color-crossing to find its way to Earth. Earth was the key.

  “Casla,” started Jarka, “you have risked much today. I appreciate what you have done. I will respect your privacy and I will deliver your message. You have my word. Now, please, for your own safety, go back to your business and take good care of yourself.”

  “Thank you very much, Jarka Moosha. You have given me hope.” Casla excused himself, headed off toward a grove of tall bush-like plants, and disappeared.

  On his walk back to his small quarters aboard the lightship, Jarka couldn’t help thinking about Casla and his revelation about Aurillian society. As he mulled things over in his mind, his eyes scanned the streets, observing all combinations of Colors walking and doing things together. It struck him that he never saw any public displays of affection—no one holding hands, or hugging, or kissing. Everyone treated each other in a polite, courteous, almost professional manner.

  Jarka slept uneasily that night. Thoughts of Casla continued to echo in his mind. The most chilling thought that kept coming back to him was the existence of a death penalty for an act so simple in a society so peaceful. On several occasions, he awoke, his mind trying to fit the pieces together, only to fall back asleep.

  In the days following Jarka’s chance meeting with Casla, he conducted a series of interviews with Aurillians whose names were as strange as everyone else’s to whom he had talked. Donora was Of The Gold and a journalist, Irillia was Of The Green and taught young Aurillians, and Quora was also Of The Green and worked on a farm growing different food crops. Gathalla and Gawnalla—that is to say, the Sree Alla—were Of The Green and Of The Gold respectively, and served as copresidents of a small company th
at manufactured parts for automated transport devices.

  All of these interviews paled in comparison to the walk with Casla. These exchanges with Aurillians from across the social spectrum proved to be interesting enough and would certainly serve to deepen Earth’s understanding of the inner workings of Aurillia. But the subject of color-crossing would not leave Jarka’s mind. He found himself eagerly anticipating the end of this second round of questioning. As he wrapped up his interview with Gathalla and Gawnalla, he neatly placed his notes and small recording device in his briefcase and headed for the library wing of the main Institute building. He no longer required an escort, having learned his way around the grounds.

  Jarka’s academic curiosity about this thing causing so much fear in Casla continued to grow. Surely, the psychology journals of this world would examine color-crossing. Maybe they might document the most current theories on the origin of color-crossing and debate whether it was a physiological condition or an emotional illness.

  Jarka spent the next four hours in the Institute’s library. He asked the librarians where he might find more information on color-crossing. They handed him journals and textbooks and video microtapes, but none of the employees would answer any questions about color-crossing. He soon realized there was no use in asking anyone else. None of the Aurillians wanted to have anything to do with the subject or even anyone interested in the subject. All seemed very uncomfortable if it was so much as mentioned.

  When he was finished, he knew this much—Casla had been right. Color-crossing was treated as a perversion and anyone thought to be a victim of it was mistrusted and shunned until they were either exonerated or tried as a criminal and killed. Of paramount interest to Jarka was the complete absence of any cause for the syndrome. Evidently, no one knew the origin of the condition. Maybe the uncertainty was what they feared.

  At noon the following day, Jarka was back at his desk, preparing for his session with Maeda. He finally decided on a more direct approach in his quest for information on what he had come to refer to as transcoloration—or what Casla had called color-crossing.

  “What is the most serious crime in Aurillian society?” Jarka asked.

  A look resembling disgust crossed the face of Maeda, a well-respected judge, one Of The Gold, and someone, by Jarka’s estimation, likely to be older than the other Aurillians he had encountered.

  “The violation of our most sacred taboo. No one who is Of The Green must ever seek to be Of The Gold. The opposite is just as forbidden.” Maeda offered no additional words of explanation.

  “Could you explain to me something, anything, about this phenomena?”

  “There are those born to one Color or the other who desire to change their Color. This is forbidden.”

  “Yes, I know it is forbidden, but why?”

  “One who is Of One Color casts his life aside and steals life away from The Other Color when they think about, or talk about, or take any action having anything to do with efforts to become one Of The Other Color. There is no greater crime.”

  “What is the punishment for such a crime?”

  “Death. Justice is served quickly and fairly.” After a brief moment, Maeda reiterated the word “Death.”

  “Are there other crimes considered to be as serious?”

  “Only one. Anyone who is Of One Color cannot enter into a sree with one Of The Same Color. That is also strictly forbidden.”

  “And what is the punishment for that?”

  “The same—death.”

  Jarka let several moments go by before he started addressing a different topic. “Tell me something about your religious beliefs. Who is the Supreme Sree? What are the cornerstones of your religion? Do you believe in an afterlife?”

  Maeda answered each question in great detail, not revealing anything Jarka did not already know.

  Jarka then asked a question in hopes of setting a trap. “Your religious beliefs hold that all life is sacred, do they not?”

  “That is true,” replied Maeda.

  “And that it is wrong for one to take the life of another?”

  “Yes, we believe that.”

  “You just told me your most serious crimes brought with them a death penalty. Doesn’t this conflict with your decree that no living being should kill another living being?”

  “One who is Of One Color and wishes to be Of The Other Color is mocking the Supreme Sree. We cannot love those who have so much disdain for the Supreme Sree. Those who violate our most sacred commandment must be sent to the Supreme Sree for judgment. Only the Supreme Sree can have compassion for those affected.” Jarka constantly marveled at the Aurillians unending ability to sit perfectly still while talking—no gesturing with one’s hands, no apparent body language, only subtle distortions to the shape of the heads and their faces as they revealed brief flashes of emotion.

  “So you see no contradiction in putting to death those who color-cross?”

  “I do not have an opinion on this issue. I merely believe in the sanctity of the Supreme Sree. Their commands must be met—regardless of the cost.”

  Jarka dismissed his interviewee, still not convinced Aurillia had fully thought through the moral paradox brought by their choice of solutions of dealing with color-crossing. He left the room for the evening, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

  The day came for Jarka’s last two interviews during his stay on Aurillia. One of Matan’s escorts quite unexpectedly met him outside the lightship and informed him the final interviews would be with Matan and Palan. While this puzzled Jarka, he did feel fortunate to be able to spend a little time questioning the Sree Airia.

  Upon arriving at the Directors’ Office, Jarka found both Matan and Palan were sitting very still in what Jarka now knew to be typical Aurillian fashion. Jarka took a moment to unpack his notebooks from his briefcase and organize them on a triangular table in the middle of the room.

  When he finished, he stood before them, studying the faces of the Institute’s directors. The shadowy gold of their Aurillian skin seemed to have paled and grayed in the two-and-a-half weeks since he had seen them last. Matan and Palan looked Jarka over for what seemed minutes, examining him with their eyes from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Jarka felt as though their discerning eyes left nothing unnoticed, at least on the outside anyway. After minutes ticked by, he wondered if they weren’t also able to see within and were examining some morsel they had found in his thoughts with equal scrutiny.

  “Good morning, Sree Airia,” Jarka said, smiling. “I am so very pleased to have the opportunity to speak with you. You and your Institute and all of the individuals whom you have allowed me to meet have been very gracious and very informative. I, and my colleagues on Earth who will benefit from this study, greatly appreciate your hospitality.”

  “You are most welcome,” came the short, polite response. But instead of Jarka asking the first question, Matan fired a single short question at the sociologist from Earth.

  “Jarka Moosha—you have become aware of color-crossing, have you not?”

  A visibly shaken Jarka stared at Matan. “Yes, I have. I am most fascinated by the existence of these individuals who are Of One Color but wish to be Of The Other Color. But how did you know that I—”

  “How did we discover that you found out about the blemish in our otherwise perfect society?” interrupted Matan. “We know you were approached by a certain Aurillian. We know because we have been following many color-crossers. And because we have been, how shall you say, keeping our eye on your activities. We know you promised not to pass along the name, but this is information we already knew.”

  Jarka responded, carefully choosing his words. “It was obvious to me this individual has great fear about what will happen if the presence of the inclination is made known to you. And there are others who share the fear. I am to understand there are many such individuals present in your society. They believe they are born into such feelings to be Of The Other Color. I am also to under
stand there is a punishment of death keeping most Aurillians with the inclination quiet and separated from others with similar inclinations.”

  “We have heard the argument that such ‘inclinations,’ as you call them, are given at the beginning of life. We do not agree. We believe they come when a young Aurillian is brought up in an environment in which the One Who Does Not Carry is absent throughout much of the formative years and the One Who Carries is overbearing and seeks to use the young, rather than an absent mate, to meet their emotional needs. The forces released by such interactions come to bear on the young Aurillian and cause their subconscious mind to form associations that are emotionally unhealthy.

  “You have been thorough, Jarka Moosha. It is apparent to us you have succeeded in penetrating to the very core of the Aurillian social fabric. You have found what is sacred to us, what we fear, what we value, and what we find disgusting. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. I will accept that as a compliment,” Jarka said with a slight bow. “I realize I am a disturbing influence in a tightly knit society such as yours. I bring a different set of criteria with which to evaluate your population.”

  “We are learning from our experience with those of you from Planet Earth that Aurillians do not like to be evaluated, studied, perhaps ultimately judged, or treated as specimens any more than your world would,” said Palan, pointing a finger at Jarka.

  “We have our emotions,” continued Matan. “Each Aurillian fits into a comfortable niche. The appearance of an alien such as yourself without a fixed color is unsettling to us.”

  “Your division based on Colors does involve a certain amount of inflexibility,” observed Jarka.

  “Granted,” replied Matan quickly, “but there is also a certain self-assurance that comes from it. We have been given firm rules for our Colors. Each individual knows their place, accepts it, and is accepted in it.”