by Chris Devine
By the time she arrived there were a number of her friends there. Most were from Xi Scorpii C, including Lak’in, who noticed her come in. They were all sitting at a large round table listening intently to Tezozomoc. He was Paal Kanik to the section responsible for cataloguing the art and music of other cultures. While Xnuk Ek’ was wading through the mire of minds looking for the right signature that could mean the salvation of their race, he was examining, recording and cataloguing the dross that the planet called music. She was not sure if she envied or pitied him. Tezozomoc waited while Lak’in made room for her next to him. She slid in and relaxed; she was going to enjoy herself for a while until she had to return to her duties attending to the alien. She turned up the wavelengths for attracting a sexual partner just enough to affect Lak’in. She did not want to have anyone else getting in the way. Success! He turned his head and raised an eyebrow at her and nodded slightly. She smiled and nodded back while sending a mental image of their last encounter. His smile broadened, but he nodded to Tezozomoc who was waiting patiently to continue his story. Just then she felt an intrusion. Someone was trying to find her but it was a signature that was unfamiliar to her. It was the alien! Sundaravāda Ciṭṭe must be trying to teach it to control its thoughts. She rebuffed the query and blocked him from calling her again. She had delegated responsibility for it for the time being, and nothing was going to stop her enjoying herself.
Chapter 6
Xnuk Ek’ woke in a dreamy, post-coital torpor. She imagined her body was floating, cushioned on white gossamer clouds. She had never seen real clouds before visiting Sol 3 and they fascinated her. She knew they were only water vapour created by various weather conditions, but their movement and the way they constantly grew, shrank, and changed shape gave them a life of their own which was strangely hypnotic. She decided that she would use this memory when she felt content as she was now. She turned to her side to see Lak’in lying on his back, breathing deeply and evenly. The movement under his eyelids showed he was dreaming and the faint smile on his lips showed what he was dreaming about, or so she hoped, but she could not intrude to find out, as much as she would like. Various muscles occasionally twitched and rippled slightly on his well-toned body. She propped herself up on her elbow and brushed her silver locks over one shoulder so she could watch him sleep. It was a strange compulsion, she thought to herself, but it would do in lieu of spying on his dreams. She traced small circles gently round his nipple and watched his body react with small twitches and unconscious murmurs of pleasure. She wished she could stay with him in his cabin forever.
She cast her mind over the recent events. Tezozomoc had completed his story about Sol 3’s music, which seemed to baffle all the members of his team, including his Nohchil. There was such a variety of material and it appeared that there were groups of people with no other purpose in life than to either write new music or to perform it. Over the period of a generation, music makers had been elevated to being demi-gods and accumulated huge numbers of devoted followers, although many of them, and the music they performed, were forgotten after a very short time. He concluded that it would take years to categorise and filter all the centuries of data they had accumulated. He appealed to Xnuk Ek’ in the hope that The Original might spare him some time before they reached Otoch. It would be useful to get his insight and maybe he could even help them, it could take years off their work. Xnuk Ek’ promised to ask and she was sure that he would be happy to help. She knew that he desperately wanted to get out of his cabin and maybe this would be a good start. It would also occupy his pathetic excuse for a mind and mean that she could palm responsibility for him of onto another for a while.
With that, attention had turned to Xnuk Ek’; the group wanted to know everything about the man who would save them from extinction. Did she feel proud to be his personal assistant? This caused a burst of derisive laughter from her, to the bafflement of her friends. She was one of the few members of the crew that actually set foot on the planet rather than studying it through instruments and recordings, so she explained in detail how primitive Sol 3 was and that this ‘Original’ was only a couple of steps up the evolutionary ladder from a primate.
“Does he have a name?” Turix Dayak' had asked. She and Turix Dayak' had met at the academy and had been inseparable ever since. Where Xnuk Ek’ was inclined to be too serious and studious, Turix Dayak' could find humour in anything and had difficulty taking anything seriously. They made a good team, each keeping the other from going to extremes. Xnuk Ek’ was glad they had both managed to get assignments on the expedition, as she probably would not have made as many friends otherwise.
“Travis Fletcher.” She pronounced the name carefully, not wanting to sound as infantile as he did while trying to pronounce her name. Everyone played with the alien syllables until they were all satisfied they could pronounce them satisfactorily. She had never considered using its name before.
“What does it mean?” Atototl asked. She was not sure, but explained that the ‘Fletcher’ part was inherited from the father and the ‘Travis’ part was chosen by both parents.
“So all the children sired by his father are all called ‘Fletcher’? How inefficient.”
“And that is just the start. To be polite or if you have not met him before he would be Mister Fletcher but you could call him Travis if he you were family or considered a friend.”
“How complicated, Mr Xnuk Ek’!” Lak’in joked.
Xnuk Ek’ laughed and stroked his arm affectionately. “No,” she held up a finger and paused theatrically, eyeing her audience, “I am Miss Xnuk Ek’ but if I was married I would be Mrs Xnuk Ek’!”
“Married?” Lak’in queried.
“Yes,” Atototl affirmed, “when two people promise to be exclusive to each other, for life.” Atototl had been studying Sol 3’s customs and cultures during their visit. “It is usually accompanied by a religious ceremony and a party.”
“For life! How…quaint.” Xocoyol commented, digging her in the shoulder. “Should we become married then, Miss Atototl?” Atototl blushed heavily as the rest of the table laughed heartily until tears ran down their faces. It was true that Atototl and Xocoyol had favoured each other maybe more than Xnuk Ek’ and Lak’in on this voyage and would probably continue when they reached Otoch, contrary to custom.
“I shall stay with Tezozomoc this time Mr Xocoyol.” Atototl retorted, pouting theatrically, although her eyes told a different story, and Turix Dayak' made a sign that she had chosen Tezozomoc and that Atototl should back off, but the sparkle in her eyes gave her away as they collapsed in more gales of laughter. Tezozomoc had a look of comic amusement on his face for all the attention he was getting.
“Yes,” Atototl added after the hilarity had died down and she had regained her composure, “and they usually join together or ‘marry’ between eighteen and thirty years of age.”
“So young?” Someone voiced the group’s thoughts.
“But remember,” Xnuk Ek’ interjected, “the average lifespan is less than ninety Sol 3 years, only about sixty Otoch years.”
“How do they have time to achieve anything?”
“Maybe the short orbit of Sol 3 might make it seem like longer to them.” Atototl interjected helpfully.
“It is still not very long.” Tezozomoc insisted.
“What is sex like on Sol 3?” Turix Dayak' asked, a look of childish innocence on her face. Xnuk Ek’ smiled and sent the females the mental image of her little experiment, watching her friends’ eyes grow wide as their jaws dropped. The males looked at each other in bafflement.
“Later.” Atototl whispered to Xocoyol.
“What about religion?” Tezozomoc interjected suddenly, trying to change the subject. “Surely by this point in their evolution they should have abandoned religion in favour of science and reason.”
“It is true,” Xocoyol affirmed, “by all the models of evolution, science should have asserted itself over superstition and they should be exploring the
ir own solar system, but they have not, and neither have they destroyed themselves in one of the many wars that seem to be constantly raging. They have made some attempts to escape their atmosphere and have even made it to their moon but they seem to have stagnated. It is most strange.”
“Are we sure they are even descended from The Originals?” Atototl asked.
“He carries the gene,” Xnuk Ek’ affirmed, “but it is dormant and hidden and he was hard to find. Wingu Kanzu, my Nuuktak and Ka’nsah, says he thinks something had gone wrong somewhere that has stunted their whole evolution. He is going to bring the question to the council.”
“Maybe we can learn more by questioning The Orig…..” Tezozomoc paused when he saw the look on Xnuk Ek’’s face. “Mr Fletcher.” He corrected himself. Xnuk Ek’ was not sure just how much use Travis Fletcher would be and reminded everyone that they were just Paal Kaniks and she was sure that the Council would already have considered everything they had discussed and decided on a plan of action, if action was warranted.
“Should we interfere in the natural evolution of another race?” Atototl asked, with uncharacteristic gravity in her voice. Like Turix Dayak', she could be normally counted on to be the light hearted and mischievous one of the group. Although from the Xi Scorpii C star system she, her lover, Tezozomoc and Xocoyol were descended from Tocha rather than Otoch. Very similar in looks to those originally from Otoch, there were very few left and they tended to keep to themselves. They chose their friends carefully, but once a friendship was struck, they made fierce friends and allies. Xnuk Ek’ considered herself lucky to have friends such as these.
“Have we not interfered enough?” Xnuk Ek’ corrected her.
“But we are not responsible…”
“We are suffering for the mistakes of our ancestors and it may be that so are they.” She paused and looked pointedly at her Tochaian friends. “If so then honour demands that we consider ourselves responsible.” Everyone nodded in agreement.
The mood had turned solemn until someone asked what they would do with such a short lifespan. The conversation deteriorated from that point to proposition and counter proposition as to what each of the assembled people would choose to do, and what they would choose to forget, if they only had sixty years to live. At which point Xnuk Ek’ and Lak’in strategically withdrew, saying that they had promised each other a session in the Gaming Centre, which of course was true, but everyone knew that was not their only reason. Atototl and Xocoyol also took their cue to slip away, and the rest of the group eventually paired off.
It had been a good workout in the Gaming Centre. Xnuk Ek’ enjoyed sparring with Lak’in, as he could anticipate her moves well and gave no quarter when he went on the offensive. As she anticipated, the result was that their sparring carried over into the bed chamber and resulted in very satisfying sex.
This would not do, she thought, dragging her mind back into the present. Much as she would like to make this moment last an eternity, she knew it had to end sometime, and she had an appointment with Wingu Kanzu to discuss Travis Fletcher’s recovery. She surprised herself by using his name for the first time and there was still the matter of honour that continued to gnaw at her insides. Maybe he was just a primitive alien, but he was still entitled to the whole truth. She took a final look at her sleeping lover and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She showered and put on the fresh ship suit that was waiting for her. Before heading for her appointment she decided to call in on Travis Fletcher.
She found him sleeping in the chair she had left him in, with Sundaravāda Ciṭṭe sitting opposite, regarding him intently. A third chair appeared and Sundaravāda Ciṭṭe motioned Xnuk Ek’ to sit.
“Have you examined him?” The older woman asked, without preamble. Xnuk Ek’ looked blankly back. “I know you tampered with his dreams.” Her tone was not accusatory, but Xnuk Ek’ hid her embarrassment behind her shield; maybe what she did was ‘inappropriate’ but she still believed her motive was true.
“No.” She admitted simply, not knowing where this conversation was going. Sundaravāda Ciṭṭe nodded. She had her own shields in place and her expression was giving nothing away.
“Do not venture into his Mindscape.” she ordered and rose to leave. Xnuk Ek’ made to question her, but the older woman’s expression and mental warning of dire consequences stopped her in her tracks, so she rose and bowed acquiescence. “He is still weak. You should make him exercise.”
“But I am to meet my Nohchil. He is waiting for me.”
“Wingu Kanzu?” Xnuk Ek’ nodded. “I am on my way to meet him now. I will make your apologies for you.” The older woman’s tone allowed no questions, so Xnuk Ek’ bowed again, her head full of questions. “I have allowed him to wake.” Sundaravāda Ciṭṭe’s stare held Xnuk Ek’ for a moment. “Take care of him until I return” she left and Xnuk Ek’ heard the man from Sol 3’s breathing change as his consciousness began to surface.
“How long have I been asleep?” He asked, drowsily.
“The measurement of time is a relative concept.” she answered as she gazed on this insignificant man. “You have been asleep for as long as you needed.” What could have got such an experienced Ts’ats’aak as Sundaravāda Ciṭṭe so worried? What do you have in your head, little man?
“More cryptic bullshit.” But there was no bite to the remark. He seemed to have mellowed since their last meeting.
“There is no day and no night on a star ship and you have no other engagements, so the question is redundant.” She replied in an offhand manner.
“But time still passes, regardless.” he countered.
She smiled in spite of herself, and he raised an eyebrow at her. There was a change in him she could not quite define. “We shall discuss time.” she paused, a smile playing round her lips. “At another...time.” she tried to suppress a grin but failed.
“You look very beautiful when you smile.” he said suddenly.
She looked at him. “And when I do not smile?” She asked. He flushed and looked away, his thoughts in disarray. “You should cleanse and eat” she suggested, changing the subject. “We have much to do and much to see.” His eyes snapped back to her at the statement, then flicked to the door. “Yes.” she nodded. Suddenly galvanised into action, he grinned and disappeared into the bathroom.
While he was away, she prepared a suitable meal for him, overriding the erratic requests the ship was picking up from him. She also added some suitable items for herself before placing a call to a particularly enthusiastic young Aantah. She had need of her help, and this was a way of apologising for humiliating her in the Gaming Centre last time.
She found it strangely satisfying to see him enjoying the meal she had prepared, and she found him a better conversationalist than previous times as they ate. She asked him about his session with Sundaravāda Ciṭṭe. He described the feeling of flying over the city his mind had created and the exercises Sundaravāda Ciṭṭe had taught him to control his thoughts. She actually apologised for rejecting his query but said she was busy, and showed a mental picture of her friends enjoying each other’s company to illustrate what she meant. She could not help but marvel at the wide eyed wonder he displayed at abilities she, and the whole of her race, took for granted. She had never considered what it would be like to live without them. She was careful not to probe too much, but there were gaps and slight inconsistencies in his descriptions and she got the impression that the wily old Ts’ats’aak had left a suggestion in his mind to make him blind to something that happened during the session.
Sundaravāda Ciṭṭe arrived at Wingu Kanzu’s cabin. He was waiting behind a desk with a holographic computer terminal where he was busy studying reams of data that flowed in front of his eyes. He shut down the display and motioned her to sit.
“Did you know?” She began without preamble and projected the image of The Original’s Mindscape and specifically the area that had been tampered with. Wingu Kanzu’s demeanour remained noncommittal
. “The damage is deliberate and genetic” she added, as if she had a bad taste in her mouth.
“So I see.” He replied, noncommittally.
“It means that his whole race has been deliberately altered to make them less than they should be.” She continued. “There was no wonder you had such a problem finding a suitable candidate; with such damage, they have evolved by discarding redundant systems.” When she got no reaction, she tried a more direct approach. “Was it us? Was it the Xi Scorpii?” Honour demanded that a direct question be answered.
“Does the answer matter now?” He replied evenly, evading the question. “As you said, the damage was done a long time ago.”
“We are responsible for those people!” She stood and planted her palms on his desk.
“No we are not!” He retorted, the force of which caught her by surprise. “We abdicated responsibility at The Fall.” He leaned forward confrontationally.
“We abandoned them!” She regained the upper hand.
Wingu Kanzu slumped back in his chair. “The argument is academic,” he sounded resigned, “if you wish to discuss honour, you should bring it before the Council. They mandated this expedition and without it, we are extinct.”
“I do not doubt it.” The old Ts’ats’aak sat back down. “But old ghosts have come back to haunt us.”
“Only if we let them.”
“You know that getting what we need will kill him unless he is trained properly first.”
“Would you put the life of one man above the life of our race?” He asked dangerously.