by Nōnen Títi
During the first two moons of Station Three, Aryan travelled up and down between the base and the city every few days. Rumours started going around about the project. Some called it a journey of insanity destined for disaster. Others talked about an attempt to avoid the Land Beyond by its over-aged organizers. Still others were full of praise for the brave people who would be the first colonists to venture beyond the known star system. The last ones were sure as Bue not farmers.
On Geveler Aryan got more than enough volunteers but of those he had to turn some down. “People have to be of use to the colony and cannot go unless they can be replaced,” Frantag had said.
In Aryan’s opinion anybody could be replaced, so he didn’t take much notice of that, but the being useful had to be justified somehow. Many people were skilled in only one area. Specialization was key in today’s overpopulated work-environment. Everybody was a specialist in something or other, and thus a total idiot in all other fields. Nobody knew the basics; nobody was even interested in what others were doing. The problem was worse for Kalgar’s creators. It was hard to find scientists who could be flexible. Aryan had to turn down electrovan drivers, airfloat attendants, mealmax operators and many others.
He had just arrived back on the base when another lousy request came. Kalgar wanted him to travel to Northland to visit the Sacred Praise Society and assess their suitability for a place on the kabin. Their religion considered Kun sacred but that alone wasn’t enough to ensure them a place, according to Kalgar.
Aryan didn’t know more about them than what he’d heard over the years, but that was enough to deter him from wanting to go. “Just accept them. DJar can’t wait to be rid of them. Nobody will question your decision,” he said.
But Kalgar insisted that these people were mostly activators since they wanted as little as possible to do with modern science, which made it Aryan’s job to go, since Aryan has agreed to do the recruiting for the tradespeople.
Convinced that Kalgar wanted him to find reasons to turn them down, Aryan arrived in Kolnuia early afternoon to meet with the leader of the local religious sect, who picked him up from the depot on foot. Aryan found little to talk about with the man but he enjoyed the walk through the countryside. Northland was still Geveler and though it didn’t have the bion-lawns of the city’s parks, it was cleared of pests.
Aryan’s expectations were not disappointed. The homes, though conforming to the Geveler healthcare laws, were decorated with reminders. Slogans about Bueror, the founder of the Society, adorned the walls alongside warnings about Saret, who was considered evil.
There were no women outside the whole time he was there. Maybe they were afraid he would steal them. The only woman he did see was the one serving the food he had tried to say no to. He just wanted to get his information and go back to the city.
He started to change his mind when his host took him on a tour of the area. Their village had everything. They knew about farming, engineering, building, woodcrafts and cooking fresh food. Talk about useful for the journey — these people might be the most suitable of all. He granted their wish and took the evening float back. He arrived too late to go to the office, so he called Maike from the central depot.
“Come on over,” she told him.
He picked up a special wine on the way. “As long as they won’t try and convert the entire colony to their absurd ideas,” he said after explaining where he’d been.
Maike’s home was a reflection of her. As she had no children she was paid extra points, so she had decorated it with luxuries. The newest addition was a high-ply carpet as red as her hair; an insult to anybody’s eyes but a gentle massage for Aryan’s feet, which were sore from all the walking. He threw his jacket on top of his shoes and fell down into her two-seater couch.
“At least there will be one person on that kabin worth being with,” he said when she confirmed that she’d signed up.
She snuggled into the deep chair opposite him. Dressed in a house suit and on bare feet, she’d been ready for bed when he called. “I hear you’ll have a whole group of trainee pilots with you all the time.”
“Only five, but I wasn’t talking work,” he answered, deliberately ignoring her hint. “Those are kids, none of them more than half my age. If anything I’ll be more like their father for the next three and a half years.”
He expected some smart remark about the father part, but Maike was thoughtful. “I guess that is a long time on a kabin you can’t get off.”
“It’ll be great. You should see the design, Maike. It has everything people can possibly want: sports areas, entertainment centres, social rooms, work facilities and trade rooms to teach people the old-fashioned skills needed on Kun DJar, even a swimming pool. It’ll be like the city; a city in space.”
“For you maybe, but I’ll be in the downtown area with the unwanted, remember? Like Breberer, a flying penal colony.”
“You getting jibbers?”
“No, of course not. I was only wondering what life will be like on Habitat Three. The users aren’t going to take kindly to being sent there. Breberer is bad enough, but there an agitator is taken care of really quick. If you don’t behave on Breberer you end up in the Land Beyond, no questions asked. What can we do on a kabin? Throw them out into empty space?”
“On Breberer you deal with real criminals, not people who have broken a few rules. Besides, the design of that habitat is exactly like the other two. Apart from not being able to leave it, those users will have all the luxuries everybody else has.”
Maike admitted that for most of them life would be better than what they had now. She’d been at the penal registration centre today and had been given a list of names; those the workplaces couldn’t handle and those who were sentenced to eight years or more. “Thing is, one or two troublemakers I can deal with, but what if you collect half a mas of them? I just wonder how well-protected the kabin is against that,” she said.
It wasn’t like Maike to worry so much. She would have guards to keep order and there were holding cells.
“And no separate area for men and women. They’re all on the same habitat.”
“Yes, like the other colonists. Krakat asked me about that, but I insisted we treat users like people, not animals. Give them a chance to be normal again. I thought you’d appreciate that.”
Maike reached for the pouch on the cabinet beside her. “More wine?”
“Sure.”
Her left hand directed the nozzle of the pouch while her right one was cupped underneath the bulging container. While he argued there would be little harm in the users having their basic needs satisfied, Aryan was alert to his body’s response to seeing this. His own needs had been neglected for nearly a year.
She laughed when he hinted that an explosion was imminent and pulled the refilled glass away when he reached for it. “As if you didn’t have places to go?”
“Not since this project came along. I’ve not had time.” He got the wine anyway. He let it roll around his tongue: full-bodied, rich and sweet, like Maike, but less controversial.
“Thing is, these men may feel there’s a chance to get their needs satisfied. It’s the women who won’t agree,” she said.
“Please not again.”
She had mentioned the differences far too many times, especially when referring to the users. It made her angry that because of Geveler’s procreation rules the women were punished for the rest of their lives while the procedure didn’t stop the men from running around like ‘bulls in musth’ as she called it.
“Well yes, I worry; I admit it,” she said.
“Lock them up.” He didn’t want her to worry. He wanted her excited.
“For three and a half years in a one-room cell?”
“They’ll learn from it.”
“No they won’t, Aryan. We’ve had this discussion before. Locking people away doesn’t make them sorry; it makes them angry. What would you do if they took your freedom?”
“I’m not a user and
I’m no animal either,” he answered.
It was true that they had this discussion before. He didn’t feel much like discussions. That wasn’t what he’d come for. “Of course I can make an exception for you,” he threatened and tried to launch at her as she walked past.
She playfully pushed his head. “Just remember you’re not the only one facing a trial flying that kabin. If I don’t control the users they may kick you out of your seat or order you to go elsewhere.”
“You mean mutiny?”
“I mean hijacking,” she said, picking up the wine again, which was a good indication that he wouldn’t leave tonight.
Pleased by her change of mood he pulled her down so she sat on the table in front of him. “I dare you to show me you can handle these animals once they start trouble. Find a way to control them before they take over the kabin. I don’t care how; beat them if you have to.”
“You challenging me, Aryan? I thought we’d outgrown that. Still, you know as well as I do that I’m not allowed to touch them, users or not.”
Aryan could feel her sweet perfume tickling his nostrils. “You want it in writing? Or will we make it for honour — a treyak?”
Her catty eyes gave him his answer before her words did. “Okay, Aryan, a treyak, but here’s my counter: You will control your physical needs and reserve them for me alone from the moment I have dealt with the troublemakers for good.”
“How will I know?”
“I’m sure fame will be praised on a kabin as it is here,” she proclaimed jokingly.
“In that case I propose a witness; my little worshipper, but only if you remind him tonight what I’m bargaining for.”
The reaction came instantly as she slapped a cushion against his head before he could avoid it. “You never let a chance go by, do you?”
Urged to hurrying by his venerator, he pulled her off the table to retaliate. She didn’t put up much of a fight. The carpet was thick and warm, her skin smooth. He caressed the white scar that ran over her belly — courtesy of the liberating camp guards. “I won’t need to go elsewhere on the kabin. I’ll know where to find you. DJar is too darn big,” he told her.
“I hear Kun DJar is bigger.”
“I don’t care how big she is. I’ll find you. I’ll recognize your smell.” He pushed his face into her neck.
She ran her hand over his spine until he shivered and then in a flash jumped on top of him. “That’ll get you nowhere. I very much doubt if Kun DJar has this perfume,” she said, looking down on him, her victory twinkling in her eyes.
His heart leaped to a faster beat. He jerked his body to push her over. “Then I’ll never take my eyes off you.”
She laughed at his effort but let him regain top position, still insisting on having the last word. “You’ll never manage. First woman you meet, your eyes are hooked and all the while I’ll be reminding you of your obligation once I’ve mastered—”
He kissed her to shut her up.
Telemer
1/3/3/6184
Telemer was beautiful at this time of year. In truth, it was always beautiful; lush with real plants, warm and moist, but not suffering from the midsummer heat. And since the light of Bue in Station Three did not allow it to get completely dark, even at night, Daili and her sister were sitting on Marita’s porch having a late drink. The three girls had finally gone to sleep around midnight.
Daili took the opportunity to spill all her frustrations from the last station. “I should have realized it the moment she mentioned getting help. I wasn’t prepared for inspectors; I hadn’t cleaned. So then I had no choice but to take Laytji to this lifecoach. She hates it, she’s convinced more than ever that there’s something wrong with her. I see no solution. No matter where we go, every Learners is run by the state; it’s comply or no future. All I would like is to get them off this planet, but Anni doesn’t want to go.”
“Have you thought about going without her?” Marita asked.
Daili sighed to relieve the tightness in her chest. She had let go of a child once before, because he was a boy and she no longer got on well with his father — Anni’s father. It had taken her years to get over it. She could never do that again.
“I’ve thought about it, but how could I? She’s not even two kor yet. I always told my children that even when they’re grown and have problems I’ll be there for them. What if in eight or twelve years she regrets not having come? What if she realizes DJar isn’t as good as she thought? But then again, what if I make her come and Kun DJar is no good? Or what if something happens?”
“I understand that, Daili, but what if in two and a half kor you leave for the Land Beyond and she realizes you wouldn’t have had to go if it wasn’t for her?”
“I love you, Rita, I really do, but please don’t make it any more complicated than it already is.”
“Okay, I’ll make it simple: You have to choose. You either choose for Anni and keep your family together; you do what she wants, or you choose for you and what you want. You have a life too. You have rights, don’t forget that; the right to be happy and get older than Life if you leave DJar.”
“I know all that, but she’s my daughter. I put her on this planet.”
Marita shook her head. She didn’t know either. Nobody knew. Daili tried to change the subject by talking about how busy she’d been with all the calls from people pleading to let them on the kabin. She had talked to so many; the mother of a mentally retarded girl, a man from the Sacred Praise Society, young people, old people, all feeling there should be more to life than what DJar could give them. “I mean, a child like Hani, how can she be so sure? And they all assume that I’m going because I’m doing the recruiting.”
She’d explained to her sister about the desperate call yesterday from Hani, a girl just two years older than Laytji, who had virtually begged her. When Daili had asked to speak to her mother, the girl had admitted that her mother didn’t want to go and didn’t know she was calling. The mother, Brita, was one of the technicians working on the internal design of the kabin, but Daili only knew her by name.
“I can’t tell you that. I can’t even understand why you want to go,” Marita answered. “All I know is that people should have the right to make that decision all by themselves. Life is short on DJar. It may be longer on Kun DJar. You should be able to go and live that life. Not even Anni should be permitted to stop you.”
Daili felt her chest tighten again. They were back where they’d started. It had gone like that over and over since the newscast. Who decides? Daili didn’t know how, but she would have to talk to Brita in person.
The opportunity came when she had to go to the city for a few days to attend a number of recruitment meetings. She took the girls along to prevent having to travel up and down every day.
“Why is it you want to go on this trip?” Brita asked after having apologized twice for Hani’s brazen behaviour.
“I feel as if I would miss out on something special. I can reason about dangers and a good life here, but the basic feeling is there and I can’t shake it.”
The brittle-looking woman behind the desk didn’t voice the disbelief her eyes showed. She didn’t understand Hani. Her daughter had a good life and future ahead of her. She was very clever and Brita had followed all the advice about child-rearing. She wondered out loud where she’d gone wrong.
Daili couldn’t answer that. In the end she suggested a visit to Ketemer instead, so they could all talk together and the girls could swim. The beach was a treat for city kids and Brita accepted the invitation. Relieved, Daili went back to the hotel and told the girls they’d have visitors next freedays.
For the children this trip was a little holiday. They were well impressed with the city. “I could live here,” Laytji said.
They were just as taken with the massive Past Times Museum and the high staircase leading up to it. The entrance hall echoed their footsteps as they presented their arms to the guard’s scanner. Slightly bent under the weight of its branches
, as royalty bends for none but the weight of its crown, a real-life queen palm in the corner marked the start of a self-guided tour around this palace of scientific knowledge.
The first hall was Daili’s area of study. She tried to show the girls the layers of the landscape and the erosion patterns, but they weren’t really interested. Daili wondered if the djarology department of the museum would have a job for her.
The next halls led them through the different stages of DJar history, beginning with the times before people; times of droughts and floods followed by ice ages, spewing volcanoes, quakes and long periods of dark without much life. Then the emergence of little furry animals that had long since disappeared, and large sea creatures, now also extinct. Laytji ran from display to display.
The girls became more engrossed when they entered the halls of people history. The earliest people had looked more like nobis. The model dolls had different faces, shorter bodies and a small brain. “Simple cave people, who lived four mas of years ago; still incapable of imagination as no artwork has been found,” the voice on Daili’s spinner explained, as she held it up to the exhibit.
“Maybe they were just too busy feeding their children,” Laytji told it.
Next came simple villages and the first civilizations when people had started to use their minds and were no longer dependent on basic instincts. The electronic guide stressed it had taken that long for people to overcome being animals, but from then on development had been quick. It mentioned the emergence of religion and philosophy, of Bueror and Fetjar, and how their beliefs had eventually divided the planet into two camps.
By the time they came to the hall on Seteger, the girls started losing interest in listening to every caption. The pictures of large communities of people with solemn faces, all dressed the same, were enough for them.
“What it comes down to is that these people were not free individuals. They lived more like ant-colonies,” Anni summarized it. “That’s Buyism; everybody the same,” she explained to her sister.