Halfway back to the barracks, Bel Anny pulled everyone aside between two prefab buildings. “I wanted to make sure we had this before we returned and had it taken away,” she said, looking around to see if anyone else was watching. Then she produced a small foil-wrapped chocalat bar from her fatigue pants.
“Oh, goddess, I didn’t know you’d bought that!” N’Gari gasped, “We’re not supposed to have that!”
“Well, that’s really a matter of interpretation,” Bel Anny countered. “We’re not supposed to bring it back. That’s what they told us.”
Standing there looking at the candy in her friend’s hand, Kaly found Bel Anny’s logic beyond contention. Besides, it was chocalat and it seemed like it had been centuries since she’d had such a treat. Her mouth watered as Bel Anny broke the bar into four parts.
“To graduation,” Bel Anny said, popping her piece into her mouth. Kaly and the others followed suit. The taste was pure, sweet heaven.
Back at the barracks, they were met by Troop Leader n’Vera who inspected their purchases. Kaly could tell that the DI knew that they had been up to something, but there was no evidence left to confirm this. Predictably, the woman frowned when she saw the ‘mags, but Bel Anny had been correct about the rules. All N’Vera could do was issue a stern warning against reading them at the wrong times, and nothing more. It was a small victory, but it was still a victory.
Ten minutes remained before the next scheduled drill, and with some free time on her hands, Kaly climbed into her rack. Instead of catching up on her sleep, she wound up paging through her romance ‘mag. She didn’t bother to try to follow any of the stories though. Instead, she just browsed through the plasti pages and enjoyed the animated images embedded in them.
One of these proved utterly enthralling. It was a scene of a beautiful Tethyian beach. The image was incredibly lifelike, and the publishers had even managed to embed the fresh scent of the ocean in the plasti page. Kaly brought it to her nose and took a deep breath, savoring the fresh clean smell. She decided right then and there that when she graduated, she would spend the short leave that followed Basic on the water-world. No more deserts for me, she thought. She’d eaten enough sand for a lifetime.
Kaly put the ‘mag down and leaned over to share the idea with her battle sister, but before she could say anything, the DI’s entered the barracks with another surprise. N’Vera and N’Teri were carrying a pair of sacks.
“Mail call, ladies! You have ten minutes to read and reply!” The stunned recruits clambered out of their racks and gathered around the DI’s as they called out their names and passed out plastipaper flimsies.
What shocked Kaly even more was that her name was called.
Utterly confused, she went up and took the letter from the DI. Who would write me? she wondered as she returned to her rack. Reading the letter’s contents, the mystery soon became clear.
The message was from one of the only adult survivors of the colony, and a former primary teacher of hers, Bella n’Mari.
“Dearest Kaly,” it began. “I had heard that you had joined the Marines from the Red Star people, and I knew from my own time in the service how much it means to hear from those at home. I wish that it was one of your friends, or even your mothers writing this, but the Goddess decided otherwise when She took them from us. So, please accept my words instead.’
“The colony is getting back on its feet and getting a lot of help from the government. I heard last week that new colonists are coming here to join us and to help us rebuild.’
“I know that with a lot of hard work, we will accomplish this, and I hope that when you graduate from your training you will come and visit us. I know that it’s not easy to think of that right now, but Persephone is your home, and everyone here would welcome you with open arms. In the meantime, know that our hearts are with you.”
“May the Lady watch over you, Bella n’Mari.”
Tears came to her eyes and Kaly blotted them with her sleeve, hoping that no one around her had noticed. But everyone else was too busy with their own letters and her moment of weakness passed without discovery.
There was simply nothing she had to say in reply, she realized. Not now at least. N’Mari had been absolutely right; the mere thought of returning to Persephone was too painful to even consider just then.
She needed time. Time to heal and time to come to terms with all that she had lost there. Quietly, she folded the letter up and stuffed it into her pocket.
Shortly after this, Troop Leader n’Vera reentered the barracks and collected everyone’s replies. When she reached Kaly, the girl demurred, and the DI moved on without comment.
After that, the platoon made ready for their next drill, which was out on the firing range. As they were issued their weapons, and marched off to the range, there was a visible improvement in everyone’s morale.
Everyone’s, except Kaly’s.
Shadow Lake Lodge, Nemesis, Rahdwa System, Thalestris Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1043.02|30|05:41:67
Maya didn’t envy the task that the Senatrix had ahead of her. The meeting with the Rampart leadership would be a long and difficult one. Silently wishing the politician well, she escorted Felecia out of the Lodge and over to the museum.
Despite the dangers, known and unknown, Felecia was in a cheerful mood and took Maya’s hand when they were finally alone. The path to the museum was lined with beautiful trees and plants, and with a soft warm breeze caressing them, it was easy to imagine that they were somewhere else, far away from the galaxy’s problems.
While they exchanged small talk, Maya took in the subtle scent of Felecia’s perfume, mixed with the exotic aromas of the wild blooms around them and sighed. If only life stayed like this, she mused, a pleasant afternoon that lasted forever. But she knew life better than that, and did her best to drink in the moment while it lasted.
They reached the Nemesian Cultural Museum and began their tour of the place. True to its name, it was a testament to the hardy explorers that had discovered the planet and eventually settled in its dangerous jungles. They learned that Major Matthew Modrel, the leader of the first expedition was both a local hero and something of a spiritual icon to the women of Nemesis who saw him as a sort of father figure to their genetically altered race.
They also discovered that like many of the early pioneers, he had died violently in an encounter with one of the many predators native to the world. Despite such harsh conditions however, the early settlers had found enough reasons to remain and had adapted their offspring to live in the unforgiving environment. One entire wing of the place was devoted to the genetic alterations that each generation had undergone until they had found forms that were equal to the jungles challenges.
Nothing had been equal to the Great Plague however. Like the rest of what would later be called the Sisterhood, Nemesis lost all of its men, and the women of the forest had been compelled to live on without them.
Felecia paused at a holographic representation of the local Widow’s Stone. “You know, Maya,” she said thoughtfully, “There’s one of these in Thermadon City. In my first year of primary, we went out and visited it at the Memorial Park, but I suppose I was too young to really understand what it meant. Now, I think I can start to appreciate what those women went through. It must have been terrible to lose someone that you loved to something you couldn’t stop.”
“Yes,” Maya agreed somberly, “it is.”
“Oh, goddess! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize,” Felecia stammered, “Did something happen to your world? Do you want to tell me about it?”
Part of her wanted to simply refuse Felecia, but another part of her wanted to share her history with her. She didn’t trust most women, but even though their relationship had been a short one, something about Felecia made her feel that it was safe to open up, even if only a little bit.
“All right,” Maya said tentatively. “You want to know my story, here it is.” And then she told her; about the colony, the plague that had
wiped it out, the Xee orphanage and her life on the streets. And at the end of her narrative, she looked away and bowed her head. Even after al the intervening years, the pain was still sharp.
Felecia gave Maya her moment, and then broke the silence between them. “What were your mothers like?” she asked gently.
Maya looked up at her, her eyes red rimmed with pain. “Yes, my mothers,” she replied bitterly. “I guess that’s what you’d call them. They were hydraulics engineers, which made them pretty important to the colony since it was an agro operation.’
“They never should have gotten their birthing license, but what they did for the colony made the Colony Mothers turn a blind eye when it came to their parenting scores.’
“Not that they had much time to be parents. There was always plenty of work for them to do, a new field being laid out, or some water project or another to go out on. They were never there, and when they were, Jora and Kaaryn fought. Goddess, how they fought! You can’t imagine how many nights I lay awake listening to them scream at each other.’
“I think they got paired because it was the ‘right thing to do’, and maybe that’s why they had me too. Whatever the reasons were, by the time I was eight, they’d separated and Kaaryn, the one who was around the most, raised me. Well, not raised; she basically handed me over to the childcare center and left me to go do her business.’
“Did you make some friends there, at least?” Felecia asked.
“No. I played by myself, or I watched adventure holos.”
“Adventure holos? Like what?”
“It was silly, really,” Maya answered, brightening a little, “but I used to watch episodes of Laana, the Far Star Ranger when we could get them from the supply ships. I really loved that show. She’d fly around the universe, run into strange beings and save their worlds. I even used to have fantasies about growing up and being just like her.”
“It looks like you did in a way,” Felecia offered. “I mean, maybe you’re not a Long Range Recon Explorer like her, but you must see a lot of exciting things on the JUDI.”
“Yeah,” Maya agreed. “But Lana was never lonely, she was always strong. I wasn’t, and I guess I envied her for that.”
“What about your teachers, and the other girls? Couldn’t you have reached out to them?” Felecia asked.
“Yes,” Maya admitted, “I suppose I could have, but once you get into the habit of being alone, it’s hard to break it and suddenly be ‘little-miss-social.’ At least if you’re alone, no one can hurt you.”
“You’re not alone now, Maya,” Felecia offerred, taking her hand.
“No,” Maya replied. She almost added, “Not for now,” but she left that thought unspoken.
“You know,” Felecia said, changing the subject, “there’s supposed to be a wonderful garden with some native carvings next door. That sounds like it would be lovely to visit, don’t you think?”
Maya took her hand and let Felecia lead her out of the museum. After her confession, she felt raw inside, but also strangely relieved. Her memories certainly weren’t gone; the ghosts were still there. But something, some small part of the burden that she had been carrying in silence up to that point, felt like it had ben lifted from her.
The Ki’ask’a Garden was behind the cultural center in a clearing all its own. Felecia proved correct about the place. Once Maya was outside the museum, she felt her well-being returning, and gladly let herself become distracted by the garden’s displays.
The exhibits there made this easy to do. Massive logs had been planted in the ground and intricately carved and painted to depict creatures from Nemesian myth and legend. A holosign informed them that one of the first settlers, an engineer, a male, and a descendant of an aboriginal Gaian tribe called the Salish, had introduced the tradition of carving totem poles, or ki’ask’as to their new world. The creatures and the symbols on the poles were entirely Nemesian however, derived from what the first settlers and their descendants had encountered as they explored the jungles.
Maya walked up to the largest and most imposing of these monuments and examined it closely. At the bottom of the pole was the unmistakable shape of a stylized spaceship. Perched atop this was a helmeted woman.
No, Maya realized, it was a man; the facial hair on his upper lip made that a certainty. Above him was a fierce looking creature with multiple legs and sharp fangs, and then a representation of a Nemesian woman complete with her prehensile tail and claws.
A pale white flower with a distinct grouping of five petals surmounted the figures, and finally, capping off the entire pole, was an intimidating creature with a large membrane between its forward-most set of arms that seemed to give it the ability to glide, if not fly. Although the representations were crude, they exuded a raw sense of power and meaning.
“That is Modrel’s Ki'ask'a,” a voice said from behind. Maya whirled around to face a pair of Nemesian women standing there, regarding them. Neither Maya nor Felecia had heard them approach, and they took a step back.
Both native women were tall and wiry, with light emerald-colored skin and dark braided green hair. A crisscrossing of scars marred their complexions, and their muscles looked as hard as steel. They also sported intricate tattoos on the left sides of their faces that Maya knew, represented their clan affiliation.
Their clothing, she saw, was made from leather. Not vat grown, but genuine leather that had been fashioned from the hides of real animals and sewn together. The garments consisted of a simple strap to act as a brassiere of sorts, and long knee length shorts that were equipped with large pockets. Heavy leather belts rode at their hips, with pouches of varying sizes hanging off of them, and everything had been dyed in various shades of green or brown.
They were also armed. Well-worn chemical rifles were slung casually over their shoulders, and knives at least a half-meter long that Maya knew were their Tej knives, sat in elaborately beaded sheaths on their belts.
Overall, they were a tough-looking duo and, looking at them, Maya had no doubt in her mind that they had fought more than their fair share of lethal predators, and personal duels, to the death.
The Nemesian nearest her folded her arms and looked at them with bright golden-orange eyes that were slitted like a kaatze. “You must be two of the hwa’ni’tem that came here to meet with each other,” the woman said, her prehensile tail flicking with either curiosity, or as a warning to be careful of their answer.
Maya didn’t know what hwa’ni’tem meant, but from the woman’s tone and her supercilious posture, she guessed that it wasn’t entirely complimentary. “Maybe,” she answered cautiously, “Maybe we’re not. Who are you?”
The Nemesian woman’s eyes narrowed and she regarded Maya for a long moment with an appraising expression.
“You are cautious for an outsider,” the woman finally said, relaxing slightly, “that is rare among your kind. Most hwa’ni’tem charge straight into the jungle without looking to see where their feet are taking them. And they die.”
Maya didn’t reply, and waited.
Finally, the woman spoke again. “Very well,” she said, “I will tell you one name that I am called. I am Keela taur Minna. My Hunting Sister here is Laa’ret taur Minna, but we have other names that only our Clan Sisters will ever know.”
“And my name is Maya n’ Kaaryn,” Maya replied. She wasn’t certain if it was safe or not to tell them who her companion was, so she added, “This is my friend, Tarylynn n’Betsi.”
Keela’s slitted eyes narrowed again, and she sniffed the air as if she were trying to smell the lie. At last, she shrugged in acceptance, and panted lightly, as if she knew that Maya hadn’t been forthright, and actually respected her for it. Then she folded her arms across her chest and haughtily inclined her head towards the nearest totem pole.
“Tell me, Maya of Kaaryn, do you and your friend find these carvings quaint? Perhaps even---savage?”
Keela had a smile on her face now. It was just enough to expose the very tips of her
fangs. This, Maya understood completly. Nemesians never smiled. It was a warning, and another test to see how she would respond.
“No,” Maya replied evenly. “Not savage, just very different from what I know.” She meant this. Skylaar had taught her to respect the ways of the jungle women, even if much of it would remain forever beyond her comprehension.
“Another good and thoughtful answer,” Keela conceded. “Many women come to this place and dismiss what they see here as so much primitive nonsense. Then they take a trip into the ‘Tamed Wood’ and think they have truly seen our world.” This was accompanied by a sneer, and her partner Laa’ret panted in what had to be derisive laughter.
“In doing so, they miss the real song of the Great Mother Forest. Tell me, outlander, do you think that you know what story that ki’ask’a in front of you is singing about?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know all of the symbols,” Maya admitted, “but I think it’s singing about the colonization of this planet.”
“You have it a’right,” Keela said. ”Most Hwa’ni don’t see that until someone points it out for them. But then, most Hwa’ni can’t see the trees until they blunder straight into one. Shall I tell you the words to the song, oh, Outlander-who-can-see-the-trees?”
“Yes, please,” Maya answered. “Tell me the words. I want to hear them.”
Keela looked up at the carving. An expression of reverence came over her features. “So be it, and blessings be upon the ancestors who hear my words,” she said formally.
“This ki’ask’a sings of the ship that brought humanity from the Land-Above-the-Sky to the great World of Life that Hwa’ni foolishly call Nemesis. It sings of Major Modrel and his brave followers, who set foot upon the ancient soil of this place, and of those who met their end at the hands of the Forest People, the creatures that roam our jungles.’
Sisterhood of Suns: Pallas Athena Page 53