Catherine felt her blood turn cold as she felt both sets of shaded eyes on her.
The lights dimmed suddenly, and the room seemed to quiet. Catherine glanced around uneasily until she saw the Gronoi remove his eyeshades. It was the gesture of goodwill. The other officers followed suit, while the two guards kept their shades on. They had big, amber eyes with enlarged pupils that seemed to encompass most of the eye.
The Gronoi adjourned the meeting, and the Sunai men stood aside as Ferguson and her crew exited the meeting room. As she waited for the others to exit, Catherine looked over at the Grono who’d made the hand gesture. He watched her with his huge eyes, his hairless head and physical bulk only reinforcing the effect of his unsmiling expression. Catherine scowled, staring him down until she was out the door.
You cannot intimidate me, Sunai. You don’t know a powerful stare until you’ve known a Korvali.
“Ready to go?” Tom said to them.
In the early evening, Catherine waited at the ship’s exit with Tom, Snow, Shanti, and Zander.
“Where’s Middleton?” Tom said.
“He’s coming,” Zander said.
Catherine rolled her eyes. Much time passed before Tom agreed to let Middleton back into his poker game, with the agreement that Middleton would keep his hostility to himself. Catherine had expressed her disapproval, but Tom replied that her argument carried little weight given that neither she nor Eshel had attended a single poker game since before the Thirty.
“What about Eshel?” Shanti asked, glancing briefly at Catherine.
“He’s banished to the ship for a while,” Tom said. “Poor bastard can’t handle this kind of heat.”
Once Middleton arrived, they left for Jula’s festival grounds, where the Sunai put on a music fest for Cornelia’s crew, on Gronoi Okooii’s order. Music was a passion shared by all Sunai, regardless of sex or status. Her father and Tom didn’t care for Sunai music, but Catherine liked what little she’d heard and looked forward to seeing it live. And Snow… he’d talked of little else for weeks. The festival would begin that evening and continue until the morning, when the Sunai would retreat to their interiors and sleep through the day’s heat. The following evening, business proceedings would begin.
They walked to the festival, which was surrounded by large stone formations that overlooked Jula below. With the sunset, the temperature had rapidly decreased to a more tolerable, but still quite hot, 38 degrees. But once they showed their badges and entered the grounds, the temperature suddenly dropped again, to something far more pleasant.
“Whoa,” Snow said. “This is new.” He looked around, searching for what Catherine could only assume was the source of the sudden temperature change. And he finally spotted them and pointed them out—devices that were only somewhat camouflaged in the stone formations that enclosed the grounds.
They walked past booths selling or offering lessons on countless musical instruments, some of which were strange and unusual, nothing like Catherine was used to. Snow slowed, wanting to stop at each place, but Tom urged him along, insisting they start with refreshment. They drank kala, a traditional Sunai fermented beverage, from clay cups. Catherine was surprised at how cool and refreshing the kala tasted, and how it managed to marry sweet and spicy flavors.
Sipping their kala, they strolled past several food booths as the smell of charred food and the now-familiar spice filled Catherine’s nostrils. The smell didn’t seem as strange anymore. Catherine followed Tom to get some of the Sunai cuisine, which Tom began to devour happily. She found that the spice tasted better than it smelled, and the dish, which appeared to be some kind of fleshy plant that reminded her a little of cactus, was tender and delicious. She gave Snow a bite—he scowled in disapproval—and offered some to the others, who were inspired enough to get their own.
They encountered several different areas where musicians performed—not on a stage, but on the grounds themselves, surrounded by those who chose to listen. They chose one group of musicians and sat down on low, comfortable cushions that protected them from the rocky soil. The musicians, both male and female, played stringed instruments as well as small curved wind instruments. When the music had vocals, all the musicians sang, and the music had a harmonious folky quality.
It was the first time Catherine had seen a Sunai female in person. Even photos of them were rare, mostly because it was considered an offense to take their photograph. While still displaying the striking facial features of the males, they were much smaller than the males, even delicate, with smoother skin. They had high voices and a distinctly feminine way about them, and wore white gowns made of wispy, soft material that covered all but their bejeweled hands and necks.
After a few songs, Tom got restless and talked Zander, Middleton, and Shanti into exploring more, while Catherine stayed with Snow to listen.
“It’s strange here,” Snow remarked.
She nodded. “I like it so far.”
They listened, Snow never taking his eyes off the musicians as his hand lightly tapped to the music. After a long stretch of music, Catherine spoke. “You want to go try some of those instruments?”
Snow shook his head. “Maybe later.”
Catherine got up and went to one of the music booths. She picked up a small seven-stringed guitar that caught her eye. Although difficult to communicate with the Sunai man who ran the booth, he seemed fine with her experimenting. He even showed her how to play a simple melody, speaking in his foreign tongue the entire time but placing her hands and rearranging her fingers in such a way as to yield the proper notes. Then he watched her play, correcting her finger placement when necessary until, to her relief, another customer required his attention. After practicing for a while, Catherine found she could reproduce the melody he’d shown her. She smiled.
Soon, however, she began to feel very thirsty. Suna’s heat and spicy food had caught up with her and she had no more water in her canteen. She looked around for a place to refill it, but couldn’t see one. She showed her bottle to the Sunai and spoke the Sunai word for water; he gave her verbal directions she couldn’t understand, gesturing to a far corner of the grounds. Catherine walked to the area he’d pointed to until she finally located the water dispenser, with the circular blue symbol, on the other side of a stone formation.
She took a quick drink and began filling her canteen. Suddenly, she felt large arms encircle her, trapping her in their grasp.
CHAPTER 19
Catherine yelled out. Her captor only clamped down on her as he covered her mouth. “Be silent, nonaii!” he rasped at her, his breath hot in her ear. “Or I will silence you.”
She let herself grow limp, staying still for a moment, and then she jammed her heel into his knee as hard as she could. And then again. The second time did the trick, as her assailant growled in pain and involuntarily loosened his grip. She delivered an elbow to his throat—but instead of disabling him further, he blocked her maneuver and grabbed her by her throat.
Her airway blocked by the Sunai’s strong hand, Catherine felt panic descend upon her as she forced his arm to the right, making his fingers lose their grip on her neck. She let loose a series of punches to his throat and head, overwhelming his ability to block her, until he began to teeter. He fell to the ground.
She stepped back, gasping for air and reaching for her contactor. It was gone. She searched around her, seeing nothing on the dusty, hard ground around them. Then she spotted it—it lay next to the Sunai’s hand. She leaned over and picked it up. As she put it back on, she saw that two more Sunai stood a few meters away.
“Stay away from me!” she shouted at them, hoping her attacker’s unconscious state would serve as sufficient warning.
They didn’t accost her, instead walking a bit closer and looking down with their shaded eyes at her assailant. As they spoke amongst themselves in Sunai, one of them kicked the body as he walked around it. Catherine realized she recognized him from the meeting with Gronoi Okooii. He was the Grono who’d
made the hand gesture, who’d stared at her.
“Why are you following me?” she demanded.
He let out a growly laugh and looked at his friend. “She is an angry one, yes?” His English was quite good, and his accent strong but decipherable. The other, a look of amusement on his strange face, spoke his response in Sunai. “Lieutenant Finnegan. You recognize me, yes?”
“I recognize you.” She looked down at the incapacitated Sunai. “He attacked me.”
“Yes. We saw him follow you here. Who defended you?”
“Who defended me? I defended myself! He tried to take my contactor.”
The Grono pressed something on his arm and spoke in Sunai. And in just a few moments a group of men in different uniforms arrived, which she recognized as police. The Grono barked at them in Sunai and they picked up her assailant and took him away.
The second Grono spoke. “This is not possible. You are smaller, weaker, slower.”
Before he could react, she gently kicked him in just the right place to throw him slightly off balance. “Slower?”
She saw his counter-move almost before it began—and the one after that—and easily blocked them both. He looked annoyed. “You are still weaker,” he said.
“Who cares, if I am faster?”
The Grono from the meeting began to laugh at his comrade. “You are a strange human female,” he said to her. “Bold, yes? But you are… distrustful.”
“I have reason to be,” she said, massaging her throat. “It seems like every encounter I have with your people is a violent one.”
“I know of the attack on Derovia, with the Korvali refugee. Gumiia trash,” he added with a flash of anger. “They go to our sister moon because they are too inferior to serve Suna.”
Before Catherine could respond, a wave of lightheadedness came over her.
“You need refreshment,” he said.
She shook her head. “I have my water.” She looked around for her canteen and found it lying near the water dispenser.
“I have something far better. Come.” He took her arm and led her back to the festivities. At the first booth they encountered, the Grono gestured to the musician, who immediately picked up a large canister and poured a rusty liquid into a clay cup.
Catherine hesitated. But, curious, she took the cup and sipped the cold sweet beverage. It tasted like unfermented kala. She then drank half the cup and immediately felt better. “Thank you.”
The Grono gestured again and the musician quickly refilled the cup, after which the Grono slipped something into the musician’s hand. “The one who attacked you… he is what the humans call a ‘biocracker.’ He knows you are a scientist, that you associate with the Korvali refugee. He sought to gain access to your data. We have been tracking him for two sun cycles.”
“Is that why the gumiia attacked us?”
He waved his arm dismissively. “These gumiia care nothing of science. They seek only to taunt the refugee. It is said they did not harm him because a female was present.”
Catherine shook her head in amusement. “And you still believe that?”
The Grono grunted. “She smiles,” he said in triumph to his comrade, who stood aside. “This is Grono Amui, Lieutenant. And I am Grono Amsala. You may call me Koni.” They held up their palms.
It was a good sign when a high-status Sunai male shared his given name, rather than his rank and family name. Catherine eyed them, suddenly feeling silly for her defensiveness. She met palms with each of them. “Call me Catherine.”
“Why do you enjoy the festival alone, Catherine?” Koni asked.
“My friends are here somewhere. I was trying one of the guitars before I went to fill my canteen.”
“Ah, you play guitar!” Koni said, appearing pleased.
“I do not. I’ve always wanted to learn how.”
“Then you shall.” He called to the musician, and the musician again hurried over to attend to Koni. He spoke a few words before turning back to Catherine. “It is my gift to you.”
Taken aback by the gesture, Catherine gave her thanks, unsure of what else to say.
“Catherine!” said a male voice.
She glanced over and saw Tom and the others coming their way. And with them was Eshel, taking a long drink from his canteen. Tom must have told Eshel about the temperature control and ordered a transport for him. She shook her head at Tom; she would explain later. She turned back to Koni, but Koni’s eyes remained on her friends. They remained on Eshel.
As if sensing he was being watched, Eshel looked their way. He looked at her before shifting his eyes to Koni.
“We’re glad Gronoi Okooii granted Eshel permission to visit Suna,” she said.
Koni stared at Eshel for a moment before turning back to her. “The Gronoi forgives, even those who do not repay debts.” He glanced at Grono Amui. “We must go. You will be contacted about this attack.” He gestured above him and looked up briefly. “Enjoy the moons.” And he and Grono Amui left.
After her lessons, Catherine looked up again at the night sky. The reflection from Suna’s rings had faded and she could count eight moons.
A week later, Catherine’s contactor chirped. Koni had sent her an invitation to hike to the Fires of Tonaili.
She accepted.
Once Catherine finished packing the things she needed for the hike, she headed to the ship’s exit. The guard cleared her to leave, on the order that she remain with Koni. After the incident with the biocracker, the brass barred her from leaving the ship alone. She tried to argue, but Yamamoto gave her his strictest look, which she knew not to challenge. Once Koni saw her, he ended his conversation with Commander Marks and approached her.
“Catherine!” Koni said. “I am most pleased you will accompany me to the fires. Nowhere else will you see such beauty.”
“Thank you for the invitation. My dad told me the fires were a must-see.”
“Ah, yes! I have not met Commander Finnegan. He visits Suna before I am Grono.”
They got into the transport ship, leaving just after sunset. When they arrived at the trailhead, it was still hot, but not so hot that Catherine couldn’t withstand the hike as long as she carried plenty of cold water. As they hiked, Suna’s moons, and the light they cast on its rings, illuminated their path. The hills looked like bell-shaped silhouettes all around them.
“Why did you make that hand gesture at me?” Catherine asked, demonstrating. “And why were you following me at the festival?”
“The gesture is the macai. It says I would speak to you. It is custom to acquaint ourselves with those who visit Suna for business. You were more interesting than the others, so I chose you. Also, on Suna, once one becomes Gron, then Grono, there is no opportunity for family. Our otherworld guests, they are our… amusement.”
“But Gronoi Okooii has children. Ov’Raa asked about them.”
“Gronoi Okooii is a Gronoi. When he was Grono, he had no wives, no children. To become Gronoi, one must dedicate all his time to service. On Suna, there is no… enlist for two years, enlist for four years. It is for life. Only the best become Grono, Gronoi, Gronoio.”
“How old were you when they recruited you?”
“I was one of the only boys accepted after five sun cycles. That is nearly seven Earth years.”
“And your father… is he a Gronoi?”
“My father? No, no. I do not know my father. When a boy is accepted, he no longer belongs to his family of birth.”
Catherine followed Koni, rusty dust collecting on her boots as she sipped more of her cool water, wondering what it would be like to leave one’s family at such a young age. “Does the Gronoi sit at the apex of the table so he can see all your signals?”
“He sits there because that is his place. A Sunai can see the signals of others from nearly any position. I can see you look down at the ground beneath you as you walk.”
She looked at him in surprise. His eyes remained forward. “How many times did I just blink?”
; “Three times.”
She laughed. “Astonishing.”
As they continued on, Catherine asked Koni more questions. Koni liked answering them; they seemed to make him feel important, rather than bothered or invaded. It was a refreshing change after having spent so much time with an otherworlder who was so guarded.
After hiking for quite a while, Catherine noticed that the heat had begun to intensify, turning her comfortable sweat into a profuse one. She spotted a strange glow over the dark hill up ahead. As they climbed the hill, she began to hear noises… popping sounds. Once they crested, they looked down into a massive bowl that glowed orange-red as little flares popped up here and there. Suddenly, a loud sound reminding her of an abrupt shift in air pressure startled her, and a massive flame shot up into the air.
“Holy shit,” she murmured, backing up a little.
“Does that bring you joy?”
She nodded, watching the flames. “More than you can imagine.”
“I can imagine much joy, Catherine!”
Catherine smiled. I’m at the Fires, Dad! I’m here with a friend and it’s beautiful! Her smiled faded. “Koni… I’m sorry I was rude when we met. I… I’d formed a prejudice against your people.”
He put his big hands on her shoulders in the gesture of friendship. “You shall not be sorry. You are a warrior. And a warrior, even a female warrior, must always be cautious.”
Catherine looked up to count the moons.
“How many moons do you see?” Koni asked her.
“Ten.”
“There are only nine,” he corrected.
“Are you sure?” she asked, sure she counted ten.
“I am sure, nonaii.”
They enjoyed the fires for a while, flares occasionally shooting up, although none as big as the first one she saw. But once she began to feel overheated, she backed away a bit and Koni suggested they return to the trailhead.
The Refugee (The Korvali Chronicles Book 1) Page 22