by Karen Lord
I suppressed a wriggle of excitement that would have been most unbecoming to my mature years. He left the keel standing by itself at the edge of the room, settled himself cross-legged on the floor, and began.
“In the beginning, God created human beings, which is to say God put the ingredients together, embedded the instructions for building on the template, and put it all into four separate eggs marked ‘Some Assembly Required.’
“One egg was thrown down to Sadira. There humanity grew to revere and develop the powers of the mind. Another egg was sent to Ntshune, and the humans who arose there became adept at dealing with matters of the heart. A third egg arrived at Zhinu, and there the focus was on the body, both natural and man-made. The last egg came to Terra, and these humans were unmatched in spirit. Strong in belief, they developed minds to speculate and debate, hearts to deplore and adore, and bodies to craft and adapt. Such were their minds, hearts, and bodies that they soon began to rival their elder siblings.
“When the children of God saw the Terrans and their many ways of being human, they were both impressed and appalled. Some declared, ‘See how they combine the four aspects of humanness! Through Terra, all will be transformed—Sadira, Ntshune, and Zhinu—into one harmonious whole.’ Others predicted, ‘How can any group survive such fragmentation? They will kill one another, and the rest of humanity will remain forever incomplete.’
“After some discussion, it was decided to seal off Terra from the rest of the galaxy until Terran civilization reached full maturity. It was also decided to periodically save them from themselves by placing endangered Terrans where they could flourish and begin to mix with other humans.”
He smiled as he concluded, “And that, my dear, is five creation myths for the price of one. Are you satisfied?”
“That’s a child’s bedtime story,” I said, but not too critically, because I’d actually enjoyed it.
Sayr shrugged. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”
“Are you a child of God?” I asked, keeping my tone light and conversational.
He didn’t buy it. “Aren’t we all? One question only, my dear. Now, if you’ll forgive me, this won’t take a second.”
There was a silence. Sayr began to frown. I looked at him anxiously, baffled at his growing irritation.
“I see you’ve been memory-protected,” Sayr sniffed. “This is such a difficult time period to work in. You people know too much already, and you always want to know more. You’ll have to come with me.”
“No!” I insisted, beginning to panic again. “I’m home and safe, and I’m not going anywhere else with you and that … thing!”
Frustration edged his voice. “Stop hyperventilating. You know I won’t force you to come with me. But you leave me with no choice. I’m sorry, but I’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.”
He stood up, glaring at me, but the glare transformed once more into that sheepish expression. “You … you wouldn’t happen to have any alcohol handy, would you?”
I had two bottles. One was a lovely, light, triple-distilled spirit made with honey, spices, and herbs that I’d picked up on my travels and was saving for a special occasion. The other was an utterly miserable sherry that someone had given me in one of those office gift exchange things about two years previously. I punished Sayr by making him drink one glass of sherry for every two glasses of spirits he had me guzzle. Unfortunately for my thirst for vengeance, I was only able to force him to endure two glasses. After that, I was hugging the bottle with one arm and holding him with the other, and I was far too cheerful to care when he danced us closer to the keel and got his hand onto it.
The room vanished, to be replaced by another, unfamiliar room, dimly lit and exuding the stillness of a workplace in after-hours mode. I stumbled forward, unsupported, my gentle abductor having absconded for parts unknown. To my great relief, there was another body nearby to lean on. Dllenahkh was there to meet me. He greeted me warmly—yes, warmly! I know what the word means! He hugged me! Or helped me stand upright. Maybe. But he was happy! He was practically burning with it. You can’t mistake something like that. Then I looked around and was moved to comment.
“This isn’t my apartment,” I said indignantly.
“No, indeed. We are in the Consulate,” Dllenahkh replied.
“Now, why did he—?” I frowned, trying to think. “What happened? I thought this was supposed to end in alcoholic amnesia.” The last two words came out a little garbled. I pressed my fingers to my face, trying to wake up the numb patches.
“We grew concerned when we did not hear from you, so Naraldi contacted Sayr. After Sayr briefed us on the situation, Naraldi advised him that alcohol poisoning was not the best way to approach the problem. I recommended that he bring you here instead as soon as possible. Just put your arm about my waist. There. Now this way … no … the other direction …”
This explained the times when Sayr had been muttering grimly to himself. I thought he’d merely been cursing the sherry under his breath.
“But where are we going?” I asked after a while.
“To Central Government Headquarters. The rest of the team will meet us there.”
“What about the Consul?” I whispered to him as we navigated the corridors. “I’d like to see him before we go. Thank him.”
“He is occupied in his office, but I believe he would not mind seeing you,” Dllenahkh replied. “Try to focus. It will dispel some of the alcohol’s effects, and you will be able to speak more clearly.”
I breathed deeply, brought myself under some control just as Nasiha had taught me, and steadied my steps. By the time we reached the corridor to the Consul’s office, I was faking sobriety pretty well. “I’m ready,” I declared.
Dllenahkh smiled slightly. “Take your time. Wait here.”
He went to a door a few meters away and pressed for admittance. The door opened and stayed open, which is how I got to hear everything.
“Ah, Dllenahkh. We were just talking about you. All is well?”
“Yes, Naraldi. I contacted Emergency Services, and they were able to confirm that Lian and Joral are both expected to make a full recovery. I am about to depart for Central Government Headquarters to meet with the other members of the mission team, but Ms. Delarua expressed a wish to thank you personally before we go. She is waiting outside.”
Naraldi immediately came to the door, looking out rather than inviting me in. I stood straight and tried to look professional, discreetly putting my hands—and the bottle—behind my back.
“Your Excellency,” I said with a very small, very careful bow. “Thank you so much for all your help.”
He walked toward me, Dllenahkh following close behind. “Ms. Delarua. I am glad to see that you have proved yourself more than competent in your post. Thank you for seeking me out and inspiring me to ask something I would not have thought to ask. Fortune favors the audacious, apparently.”
Dllenahkh came to stand next to me, radiating such an aura of satisfaction that you’d have thought the Consul’s words had been intended for him. “Ms. Delarua has long been an asset to our settlement. Providing insightful solutions to unforeseen problems is a talent of hers.”
The Consul looked at us steadily, such a look as made me surreptitiously step a little farther away from Dllenahkh, out of his personal space.
“I see. And this would be why you protect her from mental tampering? To maintain her talents at their peak?” He slowly shook his head in mock sorrow, and I realized with a jolt that this was Dllenahkh’s Lian, the one person who would always notice when the kohl had been applied and be happy to point it out too.
“I wish you well,” he continued with a smile and nod to each of us, making the pronoun plural.
We gave him our good wishes in turn, and then, still emboldened by alcohol, I raised my voice for the silent visitor in the Consul’s office. “Thank you, Sayr!”
There was a pause, and then a voice cautiously sang out, “You’re welcome!”
<
br /> The Consul regarded me with a mixture of amusement and mild reproach.
“And thank you too, Naraldi,” I repeated softly and far more soberly. “I’m sorry about what happened to Sadira. You helped save two dear friends today. That means a lot to me.”
He bowed his head, perhaps in farewell, perhaps to hide the fact that his eyes were suddenly shining with tears. Then he went back into the office and closed the door.
It was a poignant moment that I spoiled by suddenly smacking my forehead.
“What is it?” asked Dllenahkh in concern.
“I left Fergus’s comm underground,” I exclaimed. I looked down regretfully at the bottle in my hand. “I hope he’ll accept some honey spirit instead.”
Zero hour plus two years twenty days
The Regular Meeting of the Sadiri Council on Cygnus Beta had recently concluded. Councillors gathered in the anteroom of the Council Hall, taking refreshment and talking among themselves. They seemed far more relaxed than usual, and Dllenahkh wondered if the gravitas and endless debate of the early days of their founding had been mere posturing to hide a fear of inadequacy. But then again, he thought, relenting, perhaps that was an uncharitable view. After all, there had been a lot of good news of late: Joral’s safe return to the settlement, new ties with what were now called the heritage communities, and an increasing number of betrothals and marriages between Sadiri and taSadiri. There was much to celebrate.
“Congratulations,” Naraldi said, appearing at his side with cup in hand. “I’m glad to see that the council knows how to reward success.”
Dllenahkh sipped at his drink and grimaced, a reaction that was only partly due to the strength of the tart, sweet cordial. “Then why does this reward feel like another task?”
“Perhaps it is, and if so, you have only to succeed again. Look at you—you could be an elder in truth. Now it’s only a small homestead on a spare bit of council land; in the future it becomes an odd name on a map, the ancient town of Dllenahkh, founded by some obscure civil servant a year or two after the Scattering.”
Dllenahkh opened his mouth to ask if Naraldi had seen such a thing, realized very quickly that he had absolutely no desire to find out, and changed his question. “Will you come visit? You can stay as long as you wish.”
He held Naraldi’s gaze slightly longer than would be required for an innocent query. Naraldi narrowed his eyes, understanding. “So, you have heard.”
“More than that. I can see the evidence with my own eyes. If it continues, if the Sadiri Government doesn’t remove you as Consul, there are going to be some awkward questions asked.”
“We must keep it quiet for now. Perhaps I will simply … bounce back to my age before my travels, but the doctors cannot tell me what caused it to begin or how long it will continue. They want me to go to New Sadira to be monitored.” Naraldi sighed deeply. “It is hard enough being tied to one planet. The debriefing period after my travels was long and arduous, but I had some freedoms. This time I suspect they plan to permanently confine me to a room filled with sensors and scanners.”
“Don’t let them,” Dllenahkh said abruptly. “You’re still a pilot, aren’t you? Ask for a ship.”
It was beautiful to see the hope brightening Naraldi’s face. “You think …? And yet, if old age was their only excuse for retiring me, why not?” He touched his bare scalp with a smile that was almost shy. “I shall have to let my hair grow again.”
“But discreetly,” Dllenahkh warned teasingly. “Remember, there will be less gray than before.”
Naraldi looked around, still with that sheepish smile, like a boy expecting to be caught in a prank. “I will visit,” he proclaimed in a whisper. “When they give me a ship, I will come to see you in your new domain.”
It was clear from his demeanor that he did not mean a common docking in orbit and a mundane transit to the surface. “You wouldn’t,” Dllenahkh whispered back, but it came out sounding more like a dare than an admonishment. Was this age regression contagious?
“I would, and I will! I have mastered the art of safe, clandestine planetfall. How else do you think I managed during my travels?”
Dllenahkh was about to answer when a strange sight distracted him. Councillor Haan, one of the more sedate and self-important members of the council, stood nearby, shoulders bent and shaking with silent laughter, tears pouring from the corners of his eyes. Two other councillors beside him were grinning happily, completely unsurprised at this unusual behavior from their colleague. Dllenahkh stared at them, then glared at the liquid in his cup. “Fireberry cordial,” he guessed. “Don’t drink any more, Naraldi, it’s—”
“Dllenahkh, you’ve been away from home for too long. Of course it’s fireberry. It’s almost a tradition after council meetings these days. They’re better for it, if you ask me. Oh, don’t look like that. I forget you’re a purist. Here.” Naraldi kindly and gently removed the cup from Dllenahkh’s hand. “Let me take care of that for you.”
AN IDEAL HUSBAND
“Okay, now that all the unpleasantness is over, I can talk to you about something important,” Gilda said with hushed excitement.
I narrowed my eyes at her with suspicion, took a sip of my cocktail, and waited.
“So? You. Him. What’s it like?”
She halted me as I began to open my mouth. “And don’t you dare say ‘who?’ or ‘what’s what like?’ or anything so silly.”
The last reports had been submitted, and the end-of-mission ceremony and reception were finally taking place with all team members present and accounted for. There had been a bit of silly media, like those who wanted to turn Lian and Joral’s story into a romantic holo, but once Lian firmly redeclared as gender-neutral and Joral stated that they were “merely colleagues,” it died down again, leaving the two free to hang out together and assess potential brides for Joral. There had been a bonding experience during that underground adventure, but not the sort the media was hoping for.
The other bit of media, which I should have anticipated, depicted me as Dllenahkh’s consort in all but name. Faithful companion, close colleague, partner in crime—you name it. Not lovers, surprisingly. I suppose, since we weren’t as young and pretty as Joral and Lian, the media wasn’t interested in what we got up to in bed. Gilda, on the other hand, was a lot less picky.
“It’s fine,” I said with dignity, and meditatively licked a portion of salt from the rim of my glass.
“But what do you do? He’s so … proper.”
I gave her an exasperated look. It was no good trying to tell Gilda that some people didn’t divulge such intimate details, because she always did whether you wanted to hear it or not and expected the same of her friends. Up till now, I’d been mercifully exempt by virtue of a boring lifestyle. Eventually I shrugged.
“We hold hands,” I confessed, lowering my voice.
“That’s all?” she said in enormous disappointment.
“Well, it’s more complicated than that. A sort of telepathy thing. Oh, and sometimes we sleep together.”
I should indulge my vengeful streak more often. I timed it perfectly so that she actually inhaled her beverage in shock.
“You do what?” she hissed as soon as she got her airway clear.
I relented. “Oh, come on, Gilda. Clothes on, adjacent cots, same shelter. That’s all. He told me I help him sleep.”
It was true. The way the team had been paired up and the fact that Qeturah had her own shelter meant that I’d usually had a smaller shelter to myself. My dreams had never completely untangled from Dllenahkh’s thoughts, both waking and dreaming, after the memory-reset thing, and he found that I was at least as good as an hour’s prior meditation for stopping the falling nightmare before it got out of hand. He explained to me that proximity would facilitate the effect and quite calmly asked if he could come discreetly to my shelter for a few hours’ sleep from time to time. I casually said yes, and it was literally an hour later that I experienced a jaw-drop moment, suddenly
realizing what I had agreed to.
It didn’t take Gilda that long. She slowly shook her head and looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. “Man. Still waters.”
Her gaze flickered, focusing behind me, the slightly guilty expression betraying that it was Dllenahkh approaching. I turned and smiled at him. “Councillor?”
“Ms. Delarua,” he replied, pausing to nod courteously to Gilda. “A moment of your time, if I may.”
I followed Dllenahkh a few steps away to a clear space, which, as the reception was well attended, meant stepping onto one of the balcony niches of the reception hall. Some journalist snagged a holo of us in conversation, standing framed in the niche with the twilight-colored sky filling the French window behind us. I never even noticed when she took it, but there’s a copy of that holo on my desk now.
“I have a suggestion for you,” he began. “Your residence in Tlaxce City is no longer appropriately sited for the work you will be doing. My own career changes have rendered the location of my previous lodgings less than optimal. I have, however, been recommended for ownership of a homestead close to transport links to both Tlaxce City and the Local Council Hall. Of course, it is too much for me to handle by myself, but I have in mind an arrangement which may serve as a model for other homesteads in the future. Dr. Mar and Lanuri plan to marry next month. I believe you already know that Nasiha and Tarik will stay on Cygnus Beta for a period of time. Two of my colleagues from the Council offices, Istevel and Kamir, have asked to transfer from government work to homesteading until they are assigned partners by the Ministry, and Joral has requested the same. Would you care to join us?”
“Pardon?” I had been so busy cataloging the names and the news that the invitation, tacked on like an afterthought, at first made no sense.
“Would you like to live with us on the homestead? This would greatly facilitate your consultancy work with Commander Nasiha.”
I spurred my whirling mind to stop for a moment and think clearly. “This homestead, it sounds pretty sizable to be able to support so many people.”