Namvaac studied the hooked blade, then handed it back to the student. “Where you are now, child, Tochalla has been before you. It, too, was in darkness. It, too, had a knife. But Tochalla also had talma.”
She sat straight up and strained her ears as a slight difference in sound touched the air. She turned her head right, then left, trying fruitlessly to determine the direction from which the sound was coming. Because of the curved, sound-absorbing walls of the sleeping room, the sound appeared to come from all directions.
Nicole pushed herself up, felt her way to the sleeping room door, and opened it. The sounds became slightly louder-something between glass air chimes and a guitar.
Music. The notes appeared to follow no familiar pattern. It was an incomprehensible wandering through minor scales. Sad, lonely wandering.
She pressed the control that opened all of the doors, then felt her way to the apartment entrance. The sounds came from her left. She hesitated. She had never been down that part of the corridor.
Nicole placed her left hand against the stones of the corridor wall and began feeling her way toward the sounds. As she walked along, several times the playing stopped, then resumed with a different but equally incomprehensible tune. She followed the sounds until the acoustic response to the instrument told her that she was across the corridor from a large, high-ceilinged chamber. She entered the room, leaned against the wall, and listened.
The music took on a mournful, haunting quality; and she let herself open to it devoid of comparisons or preconceptions. Then the music spoke to her, calling up familiar but strangely combined emotions. The music stopped, but Nicole let the memory of the dying notes stroke her thoughts.
“Who is that? Speak?” The voice was Tora Kia’s.
“Can you not see me, Tora Kia?”
“No. The chamber is dark. What do you want?”
“I heard you playing. I thought you could no longer play… because of your arm.”
“I can still play with the other.”
There was movement, then steps coming toward her. She tensed, but Kia only took her by her arm and led her toward a couch. Nicole sat down and listened as the Drac moved away and again took up its instrument and played an odd assortment of notes. The playing stopped. “In your apartment, Joanne Nicole, I heard you cry out.”
“It was nothing but a dream.”
“Baadek told me that you did not speak to my parent about what happened in the car. I should thank you.”
“I kept silent more for Baadek’s sake than for yours, Kia.”
A quiet laugh. “Of Course. Still, I apologize for my actions and thank you for yours.”
She remained silent and Kia again began playing its instrument. The sounds were alien, but the instrument was the tidna: a harp with strings made of glass. But the music was different for another, indefinable reason. She let her head fall back upon the couch and listened, allowing the peculiar musical phrases to occupy her awareness. The music changed slightly, and, the patterns became something she could identify-feel familiar with.
“Kia, what is that?”
The music stopped. “A composition of my own. I wrote it upon Amadeen. Does it speak to you?”
“It incorporates human music; human themes. I recognize them.”
“Joanne Nicole, a composition birthed in the blood covering Amadeen would be false unless it carried the sentiments of the Front as well as the Mavedah. Your composer, Tchaikovsky, did much the same for his composition on war. He used the themes of both his nation and that of the enemy.”
“What… what do you know of human music?”
There was a silence, then she heard the tidna being placed non too gently upon the stone floor. “That human, Mitzak, spoke to me something that seems to be truth. After my parent’s game, Mitzak asked me what the difference is between ignorance and stupidity. Mitzak answered his own question by telling me that ignorance is self-inflicted stupidity. I had the feeling that Mitzak was talking about all of us. Both humans and Dracs.”
“Your parent’s game? Kia, you knew it to be a game? Your performance was a part you played?”
“Of course.”
“Why? Why did you cooperate?”
“We live by talma-games. That, and Tora Soam is my parent. It needed my hate for the game.”
“But you knew it to be a game.”
“It is all games, Joanne Nicole. Everything that exists. Did you not absorb anything from listening to The Talma when you were in the Chirn Kovah?” Nicole heard the tidna being picked up then came a series of rapid scales, and combinations of scales. As abruptly as the playing began, it stopped. “I know of Tchaikovsky for the same reason that my parent knows of human behavior and the behaviors of other races. All have been studied in detail. My study was music. My parent studied life. Humans studied us before the war; did they not?”
“Yes.”
“Our means of information processing, because of the outgrowths of talma, are considerably superior to yours.” The strange song birthed in Kia’s experience upon Amadeen filled the room. “My parent commands all that can be known about humans; what the humans know, and more.”
“The USEF Intelligence Corps-”
“A joke. You see parts of surfaces. We see depths and beyond depths.”
“But still you cannot avoid war.”
“We cannot avoid it, Joanne Nicole: we cannot avoid it.” She listened as Kia’s Amadeen song continued, the notes becoming almost visible in her mind. And there were gaps; places where notes should have been-would have been except for the musician’s missing arm. “And that is how I shall leave it.” The tidna was replaced on the floor. “Could you hear where the missing hand should have played?”
“Yes.”
“The composition would be untrue to Amadeen if all of the notes were there. This song is crippled, as it must be.”
Kia played for a moment, then paused. “It is strange, Joanne Nicole. In the dark like this, you are not… not a human. With the darkness of your eyes, do you see the same?”
“Yes. I see us as… beings?”
“I heard you cry out. I came to investigate.”
“It was only a dream, Tora Kia. I am all right.”
It was silent, then Nicole heard Kia stand and move toward her. “I too have dreams, Joanne Nicole.” Tora Kia struggled with its thoughts and words. “I need… there are things… things I wish to talk about.”
“Talk to your parent.”
Tora Kia hissed a strangled laugh and she heard its boots moving toward the door. “Make your rest, Joanne Nicole.”
“Wait.” She sat up. “Why me? Why do you want to talk to me?”
The Drac spoke its words as though it were admitting to the greatest sin. “I cannot speak to them-not about war. Not about my war. My parent is always the gentle scholar. Baadek has never seen battle. You are a soldier.”
“I am a human. “
“You are a human soldier.” The boots moved in front of her, then she felt Tora Kia seat itself on the couch to her left. Do you not see that I have more in common with you than I have with my own race?”
The silence hung heavily in the room. “I will listen.”
“It is perverse that you are the one I come to talk to. But this war is perverse.” The sharp smell of happy paste assaulted her nostrils.
Tora Kia remained silent so long that she thought it might have fallen asleep. But then it spoke. “Joanne Nicole, I have moments… times when it seems that I am back in battle… smell, the noise, the screams-it is all so real!… And then… I am back in the security of my parent’s home. I fear for my mind.”
Tora Kia laughed. “At the Chirn Kovah, the masters say that I cannot give birth because of my mind. That what I believe will not allow conception to take place. Soon I will be too old; the act of conception would kill me. This will end the Tora line.” Then a sigh. “The paste loosens the words-and thoughts-as it dulls perception.”
Just the fumes from the drug made her
slightly giddy. She reached out a hand and placed it upon Kia’s arm, then moved it until her fingers felt Kia’s hand holding the tiny container of the sharp-smelling drug. Nicole touched a fingertip to it, then brought the fingertip to her tongue. It stung for an instant, then all sensation of the drug was replaced by a relaxed warmness-
-Flashes of light and metal splinters; blood, bone, and scraps of flesh; a face made out of pink goo; everything covered with mud—
In the dark, Tora Kia was a voice; a voice in pain; a voice that wanted her to understand; that might understand her. “I still see the war, Kia. Awake… and in my dreams.” She was dizzy, and she gently leaned her head against Kia’s shoulder, the drug making her head swim. “I wish… I wish there was something… something we-”
The shoulder moved as Kia laughed. “There are times when I believe that Aakva still plays cruelly with its creatures.”
…As though he-it-he were off in the distance, Kia began to talk about Amadeen; the horror of it.-but she saw the horror of Storm Mountain, and cried out. An arm went around her shoulders… and she buried her face in Mallik’s chest as his hand stroked her face. Strange hand; strange face.
“Joanne. You are safe, now, Joanne.”
…she seemed to fall endless distances, then a softness engulfed her face. Boots walking rapidly away…
“Joanne Nicole? Joanne Nicole?”
She opened her eyes, sat up upon the couch, then let her eyes close. “Baadek?”
“Yes, it is Baadek. I have with me the human, Mitzak. Why do you sleep here?”
Nicole pressed her fingers against her temples as icepicks began stirring the syrup between her lobes. “What do you two want?”
“I came to bring you to the morning repast. Since I could not find you, I enlisted Mitzak’s help. The morning repast, and Tora Soam, still wait upon you.”
She lowered her hands to her lap. “I am not very hungry. I would like to return to my apartments.”
Mitzak spoke: “Major, the morning repast includes a beverage with much the same properties, if not the flavor, of coffee.”
“You’re pretty smug today.” Receiving no reply, she stood up and allowed the pair to bring her, first, to her apartments, and then to the dining hall. There she, Mitzak, and Zigh Caida were introduced to the host, Tora Soam. After she had been seated and had sipped from the bowl of hot liquid that had been placed in her hands, Tora Soam’s voice came from across the table.
“Joanne Nicole, what is the attraction of this medication Kia uses?”
The throbbing in her head diminishing only slightly, she answered: “I’m sure I don’t know.”
“As I have, in the past, smelled the substance upon my child, I can now smell it upon you.”
“I am not a habitual user, Tora Soam. Its use for me was to cause relaxation, to lower inhibition.”
“For what purpose?” She ignored the question and returned her attention to the hot liquid in her bowl. “For what purpose, Joanne Nicole?” The direction of Tora Soam’s voice changed. “Mitzak, explain.”
“There are different purposes. I cannot read her mind.”
An edge crept into the Drac’s voice. “The crust beneath your feet is crumbling, human.”
“Nevertheless, I cannot read her mind. Nor can I read Kia’s mind. You must find your answers from those who can supply them.”
“Do you presume to recite The Talman to a Drac-to me?” There was a pause, then Tora Soam again spoke: “Mitzak, have you ever used this substance?”
“Yes. But I am only able to tell you my purpose; no one else’s.”
“And that purpose is?”
“I am able to tell you my purpose; I am not willing. It is none of your concern.”
There was a long silence, then Tora Soam spoke quietly. “We are all feeling the pressures of the day’s circumstances.” The remainder of the repast was conducted in silence.
Later her headache having subsided, Joanne Nicole warmed in the sunlight as her sandaled feet felt the ancient stone paths of the Tora Estate. Baadek and Mitzak walked with her, each one holding one of her arms above the elbow to guide her. Although one of the hands was human, she could not tell it from the hand of the Drac.
Baadek spoke: “Mitzak, your game with Tora Soam is dangerous.”
“It is no more dangerous than yours, Baadek.”
“I think you know that there is a difference.”
Mitzak snorted out a bitter laugh. “A difference of form, Baadek; not a difference of substance. Tora Soam is not… itself these days.”
“Are you insane. human?”
Joanne Nicole stopped. and pulled her companions to a halt. “If you two are planning on continuing this cryptic conversation, either let me in on it or leave me alone.”
Baadek answered. “We cannot leave you here. You could not find your way back.” A pause. “We can talk of other things.”
“Very well.” Nicole stepped off again. “How is Tora Kia.”
“Emmmm. This reminds me, I must leave you with Mitzak.” Baadek’s footsteps moved quickly down the path ahead of them.
“Mitzak, what is going on?”
“It is complicated.”
“I’m a quick study. Explain.”
Mitzak sighed and walked in silence. After several minutes he began speaking. “Your meeting with Kia last night; It caused a certain amount of embarrassment.”
“What do you mean? The happy paste?”
“No.” A pause. “Nicole, what ever did you have in mind to get sexual with Tora Kia?”
She felt the red rushing to her face as she abruptly came to a halt. “I did not! Damn, Mitzak! Kia’s a hermaphrodite!”
“Nevertheless.”
She pulled her arm from Mitzak’s grasp. “Damn you!”
“When you asked me, Nicole, did you want an answer or did you want an opportunity to put on a demonstration?”
“Mitzak, why don’t you go and do whatever it is that you do?”
“Do you want me to help you back to your apartments?”
“I can find my own way.” Mitzak hesitated for a moment, then his rapid footsteps receded into the silence beyond. Joanne Nicole stood alone, thinking, the sunlight and gentle wind touching her skin. Sexual.
“Absurd. Besides being hermaphrodites, the parts are in the wrong places.”
She turned her face away from the sunlight and felt with her feet for the edge of the path. How could a human, male or female, be sexual with a Drac? In training, the brief survey of Drac reproduction was enough to evaporate any pervert’s fantasies regarding human-Drac fun and games. Male and female organs were contained in the lower abdomen behind the lips of a belly-slit.’
In the ancient True Laws of Aakva, Rhada had said that it is law that at least one child out of three be made by joining one’s fluids with the fluids of another. The lips could extend joining a pair and allowing fertilization to occur by another: But it was not something a human could participate in without considerable surgery.
Still, she thought. Last night… she cried out. An arm went around her shoulders… and she buried her face in Mallik’s chest as his hand stroked her face. Strange hand; strange face.
“Joanne. You are safe, now, Joanne…”
As she edged her way back to her apartments, she could not shake the memory.
THIRTEEN
There will come to you at times a blinding vision that fills your eyes and mind, announcing itself as Truth. Step back and strike down this vision and beat it as though it were a brain-sucking monster.
Then, with it lying there limp, bent, and tarnished, if it still claims to be Truth, accept it with great caution, remembering that the most dangerous lies arrive in the most highly polished armor.
The Talman
Aydan and The War of Ages. Koda Itheda
After the night repast, she sat on a cushion in the music room, the tidna balanced on her lap. With untrained fingers she roughly plucked from the glass strings a version of Kia’s A
madeen tune. There were familiar footsteps, and she continued playing as she spoke. “Where have you been today. Kia?”
The footsteps paused, then there was the sound of the Drac lowering itself into the softness of the couch facing her. “Your playing is pitiful, human.”
She stopped playing and placed the tidna on the floor. “Kia, last night-”
“I do not wish to discuss it.”
She smiled. “Then why are you here?”
“The playing… I came to protect my instrument.” There was a long silence, then came a chuckle from the Drac. “Joanne Nicole, what did last night mean to you?”
She let her hands fall to her lap. “I’m not sure. For a moment I imagined you as my husband-former husband; he’s dead. I reached out for… I don’t know. Comfort. Security. Peace.”
“And you found these things?”
She slowly nodded her head. “Yes. Yes, I did. What was last night to you?”
The sharp smell of Kia’s drug filled the room. “Would you care for some?”
“No. What was last night to you?”
“Perhaps it was the same for me.”
“I don’t believe that, Kia. Everyone on the Tora estate seems very upset about it. I don’t understand why. Did you tell them about last night?”
“There was no need to. Joanne Nicole, we are both trapped in the limits of a carefully engineered talma. What happened last night was not expected. It fell outside the limits and was therefore, quite obvious to those familiar with the talma.”
“Will you tell me?”
“I… I cannot.” Kia stood and left the room.
She leaned back on her elbows and sat in the quiet loneliness for an hour or more, when a slight difference in the air caused her to stand and listen.
The air seemed to move slightly, there was a vibration she could feel through her feet, and she could hear the gentle rattle of glass. Shock waves coming from a great distance. Nicole felt her way around the furniture until she came to an outside wall. She placed her hands against the stones and moved along the wall until she came to a window.
The vibrations became more pronounced; then there came the familiar crump of sonic warheads.
“Damn! Oh, damn!”
Enemy Papers Page 31