by Tim Dennis
Fernstrom, Midgfet and two others marched into the room, one carrying a tripod-mounted false window. They set it up in front of Mallick's chair. Fernstrom stepped between it and Mallick and started talking.
"We have control over seventeen settlements:" Images flashed across the f'window as Fernstrom listed names. "New Broads, Big Tail, Fishy Place, Pot Holes, One Tree, Two Tree, Four Hills-"
"Two three four hills?" Mallick didn't know that place.
"Two Tree. (pause) Four Hills. Snotty Rocks, Round Top, Lumber Glen-"
"Yes, I get it." Said Mallick. "We control every pissy little barely-there settlement on Legong."
Fernstrom looked thoroughly deflated. Mallick felt a little guilty. "Yes, very good. Good job there."
Fernstrom sighed and continued. "There are a growing number of reports of disappearances-"
"You mean Council Guard, calling up new recruits?" Mallick asked.
"No. It seems Krykowfert has a list. It contains the names of just about any dissenter that's ever spoken out against a governmental policy, their family, their friends. He's taking a pro-active approach, including children on the list, anyone testing as likely to rebel, or not participate in society according to the prescribed norms."
Everyone, including the sycophants and lackeys, fell silent.
"Children?" Mallick asked. Fernstrom and Midgfet both nodded.
Midgfet added: "We think this is why there's not been a more aggressive response. We think he's planning on gathering dissenters and transporting them away from Legong."
"On the farm-Arks?" Mallick asked, feeling fear for the first time since starting his new activities.
"We just don't know." Said Midgfet. "There's rumors, but no hard data coming out of the Council. A lot of resources have been diverted from both the surface and Shield Guard divisions. Something big is going on, but we can't get any intel on exactly what it is."
Mallick and the others had expected a direct response from the Council. They figured that by now they'd all be detained and a nice, public trial would lead to legislative changes, giving more autonomy to the surface settlements. They even had the naivety to think Krykowfert would be on their side, since most of his policies were geared toward surface independence already.
"Cokely wants to move you to Snotty Rocks." Said Fernstrom. Mallick nodded. "He has control of the settlement, it has its own protein farm and it's almost impossible to land a Drop-Capsule anywhere near it."
"You haven't seen the new Drops, have you?" Mallick sneered. Fernstrom shrugged. Snotty Rocks was the best they could do.
Within minutes Fernstrom and Midgfet had Mallick in a Cab, galloping through the orchards, running directly opposite the direction of Snotty Rocks. If they were being recorded by Legong Digest, at least they weren't being too obvious about their destination.
The orchards ended at a sheer, rising cliff face, protecting them from the steady winds from the east. Here, a road from Broad-Plain to Snotty Rocks pinched between tree and cliff, almost invisible from the sky. They waited. The sun went down and a Skimmer-Cab appeared from the east. Upon entering the orchard the vehicle skidded to a halt and three men jumped out. Fernstrom and Midgfet practically shoved Mallick up into the open passenger space, climbed in themselves and started the Skimmer-Cab running. After just a few steps it folded its legs and activated its Skimmer-bars, gliding silently over the gravel road.
37
Myles and Traveler sat in Traveler's ship, at the kitchen table, discussing how Myles might educate himself on Earth culture before he too deeply involved himself in current affairs. Myles tried to pay close attention, but he was anxious. His personal baggage lay in the middle of the living space, where he'd dropped it a half hour ago, and he wanted to get going to Earth before Krykowfert or the Council changed their minds.
"We're here." Traveler said.
"What?" Exclaimed Myles.
"Earth. We're here Myles."
"But I thought you fly it from the pilothouse."
"Oh, no." Said Traveler. "That's just a viewing chamber. You don't 'fly' the ship at all. It just needs to know what you want and it will do what is required by itself."
"Oh." Said Myles.
Traveler was already up from the table, scampering down the stairs to what Myles had been calling the basement. He looked over at his bags, decided to leave them for the moment, and headed down after him. Where the hatch had been was now a large, square hole, with a ramp leading down onto a white sandy beach. Myles tentatively walked down it.
Four women and a man, plus Traveler, stood on the sand exchanging hugs. One embrace lasted longer than the others. Myles thought he recognized the woman from the image by Traveler's bedside, but that woman had been pink skinned, this one was mid-tone brown, like a Legong. The mix of pigments struck him as odd. There was the pink Traveler, two very dark women, a very dark man, and one shockingly golden skinned woman. Once over that puzzle, Myles couldn't help but notice all five of their greeters were very casually dressed, to the point of barely being dressed at all. Some wore a flowing robe of very light material, one almost reaching to the ground while the others barely covered their private bits. Traveler released his hold on the woman. Myles stared.
It's her, it's got to be.
The woman stared back at him. She had a look of approachable friendliness without actually being welcoming. She chattered at Traveler in some unfamiliar language. Traveler turned briefly to Myles and chattered back at her. Myles stood in the sand, not certain what to do next.
A few meters up the beach, on the edge of a thick grove of trees, stood a dainty little hut; a roof of dry, matted grass supported by unhewn wooden posts, and only vestiges of walls. Behind it lay others, small round buildings, very solid looking except for the same grass roofs, and a large building of two stories, all posts and packed earth.
That could be a Maker-ed wall. Myles wondered to himself.
"No. The texture is too varied." Answered Pig.
Pig was right. A Maker would produce a uniform mass. Any variation would have to be introduced with intent. This looked too natural, too random. Traveler and the woman from the picture disappeared into the first building. The others approached Myles. The dark young man stepped forward and addressed him.
"Please forgive ToEv. It has been several months since he and Gabrile have been together. I am Trendle, this is Chanly, Gwirionedd and Sach. We work with Gabrile on the Legong Project."
Myles offered his hand, which Trendle enveloped in both of his. Traveler and the woman, Gabrile, came running from under the grass roof, giggling and naked. They shot past without so much as a glance. Myles turned to watch. They ran behind the ship to the shore of what was either a sea or a very large lake. Myles stared.
"Is that Gabrile?" He asked.
Gabrile and Traveler dragged each other through the water, frolicking like children.
"Would you like to go for a swim?" Trendle asked.
"Huh? Oh, no." Said Myles. "I mean, is that expected?"
The gold-colored woman approached him. "It's not expected, it's fun."
"No, I mean-" Myles cut himself off. He couldn't stop himself from staring. Her color was one he'd never seen on a human before. Her skin seemed to glow.
"Forgive Chanly, Mr. Tugot. She likes to show off."
Chanly turned to Trendle and scowled. As Myles watched her skin dulled and darkened a little. She turned back to Myles.
You didn't get a good look at Earthers on the first trip. On the second trip most everyone was dark, like these people. Then in the city, after Norte- Those people were quite pink, like Beetles.
There had been so much for Myles to process he'd barely taken note of the variation.
But that's the point, variation. No one is neutral here.
"They're staring at you," said Pig.
Chanly spoke. "We understand you wish to be a formal emissary for your colony."
"Yes." Said Myles. "I come in peace as a representative of the people of the C
olony of Legong."
"Are you? Really?" asked pig. "The Council never ratified that position."
"Well, there will be time to discuss that later." Said Chanly. "If you won't swim, perhaps you'd like to come inside."
Myles took another glance over at Traveler and Gabrile. They each seemed darker than a few minutes earlier. Chanly took his hand and he hesitantly followed her under the grass roof. The view in any direction that wasn't beach was of intense green foliage or brightly colored flowers. Myles imagined the beach path on his parent's farm might look this way one day. A man knelt in the midst of the plantings. He looked familiar. Darkest of all and much older, the man wore an odd helmet that hugged his skull, stretched down the back of his neck and wrapped around his cheekbones, forehead and down his nose. Myles was about to ask about him when Trendle placed a hand on his shoulder, offering him a seat.
In the center of the covered space lay a low glass-top table. On one side, a settee big enough for three, two chairs opposite and one at either end, all made of woven reed. The other two women, Gwirionedd and Sach, had entered the building behind them and sat at either end of the settee. Myles took a chair opposite. Pig disappeared and reappeared in various places around the room as Myles scanned his surroundings.
"OK. So now what?" Pig asked.
Chanly, Gwirionedd and Sach sat with eager smiles on their faces, as if waiting for some great wisdom to issue from Myles.
"Nice day today. Sunny. Very warm."
"Ha!" said Pig.
What? I had to say something.
Trendle appeared from another room carrying a tray with several glasses and a pitcher of red liquid. He set it on the table and poured everyone a glass.
"This is fruit juice. I think you would call it cherry-orange. It is historically native to this area of Earth."
Myles took a sip. Pleasing, sweet with a slight tartness.
It's spiked.
They all smiled at Myles and took sips of their own.
"It's a clear spirit," Trendle said. "Pure and unflavored. We weren't certain of your tastes."
Myles didn't need the drink to relax, but since it was there he wasn't going to refuse. Whatever else his day would bring, it was starting out reasonably enough. They talked a while about meaningless things, Gwirionedd left, returning presently with a selection of meats and cheeses. She was tallest of the women, only slightly shorter than Trendle and Traveler, with rich, flowing red hair, almost orange, with sharp features and thin lips. She was the darkest of all, save the mysterious gardener. Chanly seemed to change from gold to a pink-tinged brown and then back again whenever attention was paid to her. Her features were softer than Gwirionedd's, her eyes narrowed when she laughed. Sach fell between them in darkness, with soft features like Chanly but without her eyes. Myles was strongly drawn to the women, but Trendle too was difficult to ignore. Myles remained silent for a long time.
If only I had that implant...
"Check for it" offered Pig, helpfully. "Krykowfert might only have taken the link, not the data-structure."
Myles turned inward and searched his thoughts for memories. He didn't find the implant data store, but he was able to recall his school days with a greater than usual clarity.
They're ethnic phenotypes. Aside from them all being so dark, they're each perfect representations of stereotyped bone structures and soft tissue features.
This observation came uncomfortably close to one of the more popular myths about post-diaspora Earth. Before the diasporas occurred, most of Earth's population had interbred to the point where it was impossible to separate individuals into ethnicities by their appearance or genetic markers. Few people even knew their ancestry. In school Myles had been taught that during the diasporas Earth had slid backwards, transportation networks had broken down and populations became isolated. It was claimed that divisions had re-asserted themselves, languages had bifurcated and ancient styles of government had reformed.
"But it's only been a few hundred years," said Pig.
For the Colony, yes. But we were traveling at light-fraction speeds, there are relativistic effects to consider. A hundred years on the Arks might have been a thousand here on Earth.
"Mr. Tugot, are you OK?" Trendle asked.
"Oh! Yes. Yes, I'm fine. Just lost in thought."
The food and drink seemed to replenish itself, and each time Myles turned his attention back to his stomach there was something there on the table to satisfy. The conversation flowed equally smoothly, and aside from moments of Myles's own drifting attention, his hosts kept him in the middle of it. Gwirionedd asked many questions about Legong technology and Chanly pursued a line on social institutions while Sach mostly watched and listened. Myles wondered if he was among people of import, or if these were just casual friends of Traveler, or ToEv's.
Relax. You've only just arrived. Accept a little hospitality, they'll be plenty of time for official business.
Several drinks and a great variety of comestibles later, the conversation dulled and the sky dimmed. Myles looked out at the lake. The sun, low in the west, lit Gabrile and Traveler from one side, flattering their forms as they dressed by the water. Chanly rose and offered her hand to Myles.
"It's been very nice to meet you Mr. Tugot, but I'm afraid we have work to do. Let me show you your room."
Myles hadn't noticed anyone come or go, but somehow the empty dishes had disappeared. He allowed Chanly to lead him out from the lanai to one of the thick round buildings near the tree line. Inside was a familiar looking kitchen and enough space to eat or just relax. An open doorway at the rear led out under a short covered walkway to a second, smaller building of similar construction. He could see his bags resting on the floor beside a bed. Chanly turned to leave.
"Myles. You can call me Myles."
Chanly smiled and walked away.
His bedroom contained a tall, free-standing cabinet, neatly assembled from individual pieces of cut wood. Darker front and sides with a swirling grain, and tight, straight-grained trim running up the edges and defining the door. Within hung a few garments. He thought back to his day in Paris. The clothes he'd seen there didn't seem like they'd fit in here.
Traveler was dressed as a Legong when you met him.
Myles pushed his bags into the corner and slipped on a pair of lightweight white trousers from the wardrobe. He found a shirt to match, collarless, with just four buttons running down the front. Dressed thusly he crossed back into the living area and examined the contents of the kitchen. Cabinets contained containers of things easily recognizable as food and a cold storage space held a variety of fruits and vegetables.
Yeah. We'll eat whatever they're serving in the big house.
It was dark now, and Myles rested in his sitting area, tired, but too wired to even try sleeping.
What time is it?
"Bedtime," replied Pig.
I wonder what time it is back on Caldera?
Myles thought back over the past day and tried to figure out what the time might be back home. He'd been here for several hours, but not a full day. The trip was most likely only minutes, before that he'd made a late night stop at his house.
I have no idea how long that all took. It must at least be daytime in Caldera.
On the table a glass vase held freshly cut flowers. He reached out and drew them closer. He sniffed.
Fragrant.
Beside them on the table rested a little round ball, red, about a centimeter in diameter. It intrigued Myles. He tried to pick it up, but it was attached, or extraordinarily heavy. A smoky ribbon of color streamed up from it. Myles waved it away and an image of Legong replaced it.
"A f'window," said Pig.
Is that a live image?
Myles poked his finger into it, tried to spin it or pull it into a different shape or size. He gave up and sat back on the chair. The image grew and Legong turned to face Caldera to him.
I wonder what Bento's up to.
The view zoomed in to Harry's cafe. The
three of them, Harry, Bento and himself, all sat on the deck. Myles felt uneasy, he got up from the table and paced. He didn't want to think of Legong, or of Bento, and certainly not of Harry. He was on Earth, and that was what demanded his focus. He marched himself out of the hut, back towards the lanai.
Sheets of parallel reeds had been hung where walls would have been. Light bled through and under the reeds, and he could hear Traveler's voice, but without understanding his words. Other than the lanai, the compound was dark and silent, nothing but the million stars above and the gentle sounds of water lapping on shore. He followed the sound and stood on the beach, letting the water cover his bare feet, a warm contrast to the cool night air. A wave, a little larger than the rest, rolled up his ankles. As it drew away it dragged sand out from beneath his feet. For a moment Myles was reminded of the flood, and Pig, prior to his demise. He took a few steps back and glanced around for the haunting swine.
Gabrile stood a few meters behind him. "I wonder if I might ask you a question Myles."
"Eh?"
She walked up to him. "Is this a good time?"
"Um, sure. Go ahead."
Gabrile looked him over. "The clothes fit you well."
"Yes. Thank you. Did Traveler know my size?"
"Traveler?" She looked at him quizzically.
"Ah! That's what my father called him. He told us he was a traveler, so dad just called him Traveler."
Gabrile almost laughed. "Excellent! Yes, that fits him well. His name is ToEv, and no, he didn't have anything to do with the clothes. We learned these things on your last visit."
"Yes. Er. About that-" Myles wasn't quite ready to go into those events, and apparently neither was Gabrile.
"We'll leave that for another day, shall we?"
The two shared a moment of silence, looking out over the water. Myles found himself staring again, this time at Gabrile's form.
Are all Earthers such perfect physical specimens?
If there had been any doubt as to Gabrile's skin tone when he arrived, she was certainly dark now. Or was it the dim lighting? She caught his eye.
"But there is one thing I'd like to ask. What are your burial rituals?"