“What?”
“Think of it like your body. You don’t really have a concept of your finger or your toe being distinct from you. They are a part of you. Well, for us, individual Trahzi are like cells in a body. Cells die off and are replaced all the time without being noticed. It is the whole that is important.”
“Well, when members of our families die, THAT is noticed!”
The rest of the students yelled in agreement. The air was thick with hostility. Even Ilrica was looking on seriously.
Trahzi help up her hands. “Well, to us, the people we killed were like nothing more than fingernail clippings, or fallen strands of hair. So long as the race itself survived, removing a few cells did no real harm, or so we thought. In fact, we believed we were strengthening the others by cutting out their weaker parts. The parts too weak to defend themselves...”
She trailed off and looked away. An odd expression crossed her face. Almost sadness, almost regret, almost embarrassment. “But, as world after world fell before us, we began to question our cause. We kept expecting to find those who could defend themselves, who could at least come close to matching our strength, but none ever came forward. Even as recently as yesterday we thought anyone who could not equal us physically had no right to exist.”
Tomar only stood there and fumed.
“So what changed?” Ungliss asked as he floated above the others in his gaseous form.
Trahzi glanced at Gerald. “That is something we keep to ourselves.”
She turned back to Tomar. “We were wrong. We were deceived by the ArchTyrant. And at the Battle of Embers we fought against him. We helped your alliance defeat him. Our whole purpose in transferring this body here as an exchange student to Central Exeter is to begin to build a bridge between our peoples. To make sure that such misunderstandings do not happen again in the future.”
Trahzi struggled deeply with the next part.
“We... we are sorry.”
The crowd was silent for a long time. Several of the students looked around, not knowing what to do or how to react.
It was Tomar that finally spoke up, his eyes filled with spite.
“You’re sorry? And you think that will fix this?”
Trahzi was at a loss. “What would you have us do?”
Tomar’s orange eyes narrowed. “Die.”
“What?”
“You heard me, demon. Go off and die.”
Trahzi looked unsure. “How would our ceasing to exist help you now? The dead would still be dead.”
“But I would feel better.”
“So it is your feelings that are the obstacle?”
Tomar stomped his foot. “Yes, traggit! Feelings, something you could never understand.” He thumped his fist against his chest. “When you kill someone we love, it hurts us.”
Trahzi’s countenance fell. “Love,” she repeated, her eyes growing distant.
Tomar held out his hand in derision. “See? She doesn’t understand. She can’t possibly understand.”
“Well, I suppose it makes sense,” Trajey offered. “With only a single shared consciousness, the concept of two people loving each other wouldn’t be part of their thinking. It wouldn’t even occur to them.”
Trahzi looked up. “We understand love.”
“You do?”
“Yes, love means fondness. We are fond of all living creatures, for they are delicious and bring nourishment to our bodies.”
“Yeah, not quite,” Gerald admitted.
Tomar laughed cruelly. “See? She doesn’t get it. How could she? Face it Trahzi, you’ll never understand us. You’ll always be our enemy.”
This seemed to upset Trahzi deeply. Her black eyes moved back and forth as her mind put the pieces together. “You are right. As long as we cannot understand love, we can never understand you. There will never be peace between our peoples. War will come, again and again. It never bothered us before; we were the strongest. We knew we would win. But, yesterday we felt truly afraid for the first time.”
She wrapped her hands around herself as if she felt cold. “For the first time, we felt... concerned that our existence might end. We felt... afraid. Now we comprehend that we cannot just fight against every race that springs up forever. Eventually, a race will come along that will challenge us, even defeat us. When we look out into time, into the countless eons before us, we realize it is bound to happen. A mathematical inevitability. Sooner or later, someone will devise a way to defeat us, and then we will be no more.”
Gerald stepped forward and placed his bandaged hand on her arm. To his surprise, it felt quite cool. “But, that’s the plan anyway, isn’t it?” he said gently. “Isn’t that that way things should be? According to you, conflict breeds strength, and the strongest survive, right?”
Her black eyes widened, and her lips parted. “Yes... yes we did believe that. Only now... now that we consider the possibility that we could lose... suddenly that does not seem so appealing to us anymore.”
Trahzi lost herself deep in thought. While she did so, Gerald turned to Tomar, his eyes full of sympathy.
“Tomar, do you know what true beauty is in Soeckism?”
“Do I care?”
“You will. True beauty is forgiveness. The most beautiful thing is all the cosmos is not a face, or a star; it is forgiveness.”
Tomar struggled with what he was hearing. “What are you saying?”
“People achieve many things, Tomar. But we are at our most noble, we are at our most lovely, when we forgive someone who has hurt us.”
Tomar’s face was pained. “But, she...”
Gerald walked over and placed his hand on Tomar’s shoulder. “I know. But forgiveness does not mean forgiving someone only when we think they deserve it. She has apologized and wants to make amends, but even if she never had, you could still choose to forgive her.”
Gerald looked out, his eyes focused. “And when you do... then you find it.”
Tomar wiped the forming tears in his eyes. “What is it you find?”
Gerald smiled. “Peace. Stillness. Resonance. Harmony. Like you felt as an infant, knowing neither guilt nor shame. Knowing neither anger nor fear. It’s what Soeck called Vashrya.”
Tomar shook his head, his large ears flapping about. “I don’t know, Gerald. Not everyone can live the way you do.”
“Yes, you can, Tomar. As a sentient being, you have more potential than you can even comprehend. You have the ability to become infinite.”
Tomar rolled his eyes.
“I know, you have a long way to go, we all do. It’s like a seed growing over time. Even a tiny seed can become a great redwood. But, you can grow even more than that seed can. And the first step is to forgive.”
Tomar looked up into Gerald’s eyes, his heart wavering. “I... I dunno. M... maybe I could... eventually.”
Gerald smiled and embraced him warmly. “That is real courage,” he praised.
Tomar couldn’t help but smile. Already he could feel his heart beginning to heal.
The crowd began to soften. Slowly, the tension flowed out of the room. Several of the students looked at each other, clearly impressed. But none more so than Ilrica. Her gaze was fixed on Gerald, as if she was witness to something she had never thought possible. She caught herself staring, and looked around nervously to make sure no one had noticed. Redonning her facade, she closed her eyes flippantly as if she could care less.
Trahzi breathed in deeply and stood up. All eyes were on her. “We have made a decision,” she announced. “We must do something.”
“Yes,” Gerald said energetically. “This is a chance to mend wounds, to heal hearts. To restore what was lost.”
“We must prevent this eventuality,” Trahzi continued.
“Yes,” Gerald said, growing even more excited. “Through forgiveness, we can restore the bonds which were broken.”
Trahzi pointed a black fingernail. “Gerald, we want you to keep teaching us how to make friends.”
&nb
sp; “Yes, that is a good place to...”
“...We also want you to teach us love.”
Gerald froze. “Wait, what?”
Ilrica’s emerald eyes shot open in concern. “What did she say?”
* * *
Cha’Rolette threw her tablets aside and shoved Jonarl out of the way. She grabbed the viewfinder and looked through it.
What the frakk did she just say?
Chapter Twelve
Any position becomes evil when taken to an extreme.
- Holy Scrolls of Soeck, Seventh Binding Eighth Stanza
Over the years Gerald had developed an informal system that he used for determining what kind of day he was going to have to by the manner in which he woke up: Being woken up to find out you had been robbed during the night=bad day. Being woken up with a light layer of frost on your bed=good day. Waking up to a raccoon chewing on your toes=bad day. Waking up to rain dripping down on you through a hole in the roof=good day.
Since coming to Central Exeter he had added a couple to his list: Waking up in the hospital bed with your brain in a jar=bad day. Waking up to thugs bringing you yet another generous donation of food=good day...
...but Gerald had absolutely no clue how to categorize what he saw when he woke up that morning. There was a dead animal lying next to him in the hallway where he slept. It startled him so much he had already rolled over and scooted himself back against the busted door to his dorm room before he realized it was dead.
It was a white furry little thing, at least it had been. Not entirely unlike a rabbit, but very much dead.
Gerald looked up and down the hall, but there was no evidence of where it came from or how it had gotten there.
Once the adrenaline died down, he was left with the question of what to do with it. Should he leave it there for someone else to clean up? Should he take it with him and dispose of it himself? Or, should he not let it go to waste and cook it up for lunch?
He had to admit, he had no clue what the rule of etiquette was when finding road kill in front of one’s door. He would have liked to write a letter to Miss Manners, but she was still in a Ducturian prison for having offended their crown prince. Apparently not flatulating after a meal is unforgivable in some places.
Finally, he settled on leaving it where it was. He reasoned that he knew nothing about it, and for all he knew it could have poisonous fur or explode when it was cooked or something like that, so best leave it be.
As he walked down the hall, several of the cleaning robots found the carcass and began beeping at him angrily, so he quickened his pace, rounding the corner after receiving what was most certainly the worst insult robots could give.
Gerald waited at the exit, as was his custom, and when another student walked through the automatic doors Gerald scooted out with him before the doors had a chance to slam on him.
They still tried, but only managed to snag the hem of his robe and slice a piece off.
“Better luck tomorrow,” Gerald chuckled.
As he walked down the steps from the boy’s dorm, he could hear robotic screams coming from a window on the third floor. He quickened his pace and looked back. A small robot was leaning out and shaking its little fist as hard as it could.
When Gerald turned around again, he nearly ran into a pair of enormous breasts barely containted within a school uniform.
“Oh, hi Trahzi,” he greeted, looking up into her face. “What are you doing here?”
“In order for us to learn about love from you it is important that we spend as much time together as possible. We have come to walk to class together.”
“Oh, well, that makes sense, I guess,” he mumbled as he looked back up towards the screaming robot.
Trahzi glanced up. “Is something wrong? You seem distracted.”
“Well, I am, a little.” He scratched the back of his head. “Look, Trahzi there’s no polite way to say this, so I’ll just ask. Did you by any chance... leave a dead animal on my porch?”
Her brow furrowed. “We find you very strange.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“At this rate learning about love from you will be more difficult. We suggest you keep such questions to yourself from now on.”
Trahzi turned around and began walking. Gerald reluctantly followed.
Gerald smacked his lips together. “Yeah, about that Trahzi, I don’t think I’m going to be able to help you with that. I’m studying to become a priest. I’m up to take out my vows in a few weeks. I’m sorry but this really is something that I cannot do, it’s just not appropriate.”
Trahzi shot him a dagger from the corner of her eye. “This mission is vital to the survival of our race. Our very existence depends on its success. If you become an obstacle to it there will be consequences.” To emphasize the point, she snapped her fingers and a nearby bench burst into flames.
“Yeah, yeah. I get it.”
Gerald found it a little odd walking with a girl. He couldn’t recall ever doing so since he was a kid, and doubly odd that she was so much taller than he was. He was tall for a human, of course. Well above average, actually, but walking alongside her made him feel like Roger Rabbit next to his wife Jessica.
As they strolled across campus, every eye seemed to be fixed upon them. Students popped their heads up from behind walls, around corners, and sometimes from within bushes to gawk at them as they passed by.
“Do you see that? They’re walking to school together?” One girl asked her friend.
“Are they dating?” A boy asked his classmate.
“Who?”
“Dyson and the demon girl?”
“Why would anyone wanna date him?”
Gerald frowned. “They could at least try to be discreet. They’re not even bothering to whisper.”
Trahzi didn’t seem to notice any of it. She was focused on the task at hand. She didn’t walk like other girls. She strode with her long shapely legs. Her voluptuous backside minced enticingly back and forth with every step. It was positively hypnotic. It was as if her whole body moved to some silent primal music. Raw and irresistible. Every few paces, Gerald would have to do a double-step just to keep up with her, for he knew that if she got ahead of him, he’d end up staring at her sensual body, and he couldn’t allow himself to do that.
Gerald caught a glimpse of a really neat spider web strung between two tree branches. He only glanced at it for a second, but it only took that long for Trahzi to get way ahead of him. He had to sprint to catch up.
“I bet he’s paying her,” a girl said, her arms folded critically.
“With what? He’s broke as a thurgosood.” Her friend spat back.
“Maybe he’s blackmailing her with something?”
“Ohhh, how scandalous. That lecher!”
Gerald ground his teeth. “Why am I the one of they’re gossiping about?”
“We have a while before morning classes,” Trahzi said, steering the conversation back to the task at hand. “Shall we begin?”
Gerald coughed. “Well, to be honest, I’m not quite sure. I mean, it’s not like there is a guide set down anywhere for this. But I do have a couple of ideas.”
He looked around. “I need an object lesson here... um, that’ll do.”
He walked over and plucked a pair of leaves off a bush.
“Ow!” the bush yelled.
“Oh, sorry,” Gerald said reflexively.
“What the prog is wrong with you?” the bush cursed.
“I’m sorry, I thought you were... never mind.”
“What? You thought I was what?”
Gerald backed away. “Nothing.”
“You were going to say you thought I was a bush, weren’t you?”
Gerald looked away. “Not really.”
“I’m not part of the foliage, I’m the frakkin’ art teacher!”
“Sorry, sorry,” he said again as he grabbed Trahzi’s arm and led her away.
“Why did you hurt Professor V’vooad?” Trah
zi asked.
“Just keep walking,” he rushed.
“Was that part of the lesson?”
“No.”
Finally getting out of earshot of the enraged art teacher. They found a spot underneath a crystal tree in the quad and sat down together.
“Okay,” he said, placing a leaf in her hand and the other in his. “What do you feel?”
She touched the leaf with her fingers. “Lamina, mid rib, vein, sinus, lobe, waxy cuticle, stoma, mesophyll...”
From his reaction she could tell that was not what he intended. “Why? What do you feel?”
“Oh, I was going to say ‘smooth,’” he admitted.
“That’s a little simplistic, don’t you think?”
“Yes, but the point is that you and I feel the same thing when we touch it.”
She accepted this answer.
“Now, I’m going to say something to you, and I want you to tell me how it feels.”
“All right.”
“I am very proud of you for passing your weapons test yesterday. You were amazing,” he said sincerely.
She stared at him.
“How did that make you feel?”
She shrugged. “We feel nothing, you simply stated a fact.”
“Yes, but didn’t the praise make you feel good?”
“We suppose... perhaps a little.”
“Well, I feel the same when I am praised.”
“But you failed the weapons test.”
“Well, yes, but the point is... oh here, watch.”
Gerald sat up and yelled over to Cleylselle, who was passing by on his morning jog.
“Hey, Cleylselle, congratulations on passing your weapons test.”
“Screw you, Dyson!” the angry, grey-skinned student yelled back.
“Okay, well that didn’t work. The point I was trying to illustrate is that the things that make you feel good, also make others feel good.”
Gerald felt a little prick on his ankle. He looked down and saw a little squirrel-like creature biting into his skin, drawing blood.
“Ouch,” he yelped, kicking the creature away. It scurried up the side of the tree and chittered angrily at him.
Trahzi’s black eyebrows came up in realization. “You are trying to teach us empathy.”
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