Of a Note in a Cosmic Song; Part Four

by Nōnen Títi

  By the time Wilam woke up he was more tired than before and extra careful to be patient with his son. Would it be fair to go with Kolyag whose kids were much older than Kristag, while he would miss Styna… and she him?

  “Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked.

  Kristag made no objections about going to the field where Styna’s cattle were. He ran ahead to stroke the calf, which was a first for the colony. For it, Styna would cross the continent if she had to.

  She only looked up when Wilam was right beside her. “Out for a walk today?”

  “I know you need to think of your cattle first, but–”

  She turned away.

  “No, Styna, don’t. Can’t we talk… please?”

  She lifted Kristag to stroke the mother of the calf. “Okay, but not here. Tonight; come see me.”

  Wilam had never been inside Styna’s home; she’d always come to him. It was small and cosy. On the floor and on one of the walls was a thick, woven carpet. “Veleder knotting, not weaving,” Styna said. She had other interesting additions: Carved zibot bones from those that had died and some dolls and toy homes, which Kristag asked for. “I made them from bits and pieces – preserved tubers and whatever else the wind throws onto the field. If you would have come see me more often I could’ve taught you.”

  She handed him a clay pot with wine in it. “Made it myself – the carafe and the wine. Tastes great and totally safe.” She gave Kristag a diluted cupful. He never questioned what it was. Pina would have not agreed.

  Styna sat down next to Wilam on the floor carpet to lean against the one on the wall. This clever arrangement was quite comfortable. “Okay, let’s talk.”

  Put on the spot, Wilam forgot what he’d intended to say. He just repeated his wish to get away, to forget Pina.

  “You shouldn’t forget her. She was Kristag’s mother. Unless you’re intending to leave him behind too, you’ll never forget.”

  This kind of talk was normal for Styna, only this time Wilam couldn’t help thinking maybe he’d be given no choice. He told Styna all the reasons why he wanted to leave town – the failing crops, Tigor’s threats, Kristag’s safety. He just wanted to try a new place. He’d like her to come. If they didn’t find good land they could come back.

  Styna didn’t want to part with her cattle. She asked what was wrong with going to the plains together, but Wilam worried about it being lonely. No kids for Kristag to play with and he’d become accustomed to having many people around, not like Menever. Many people would go with Kolyag.

  “Stop the excuses, Wilam. Come to the point.”

  “I’d be useless there. You would have your cattle, but I’d have no crops and nothing to contribute.”

  “So?”

  Wilam sighed. “I know I’m thinking of only me again. I know you would have the same problem there and I know I can’t forget Pina, but I want to be a good father for Kristag, and I can’t with all those memories.”

  “So you’ve made up your mind?” she asked.

  Wilam was about to say yes when an idea popped into his head. If Styna would have guardianship over Kristag, nobody would take the child away – the same way Elsa was there for Kolyag’s children. Styna would be a great mother and they could stay here; she’d be a mother instead of a farmer. He took a big gulp of the wine and swallowed twice. “What if we were committed?”

  He held his breath and watched her. For the first time – ever – Styna was at a loss for words. Only Kristag’s voice, in the corner, talking for the tuber dolls, filled the silent room.

  “If we did commit, would you be willing to come with me?” she asked then.

  Wilam let out his breath. She’d not rejected him. Not even after he’d ignored her for so long. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, if that’s what you want.”

  He felt flush, but less frightened. It could be the wine.

  “Will you let me think about it?” Styna asked.

  Of course he would. He couldn’t expect her to immediately say yes, though he felt a little disappointed when she didn’t. He started telling her how serious he was, how much Kristag and he cared for her; she wouldn’t just be a replacement for Pina.

  “So let me think and stop blabbering.”

  Wilam knew he talked a lot when he was nervous. “Sorry.”

  “How about some more wine?” she asked.

  “You bad boy! Look what you done. You trouble. Go ’way and be dead. Be dead!” Kristag’s sudden shouting was accompanied by him using one of the dolls to beat on another.

  “Kristag, stop that!” Wilam reached the boy within a fraction and snatched the toys out of his hands.

  Kristag looked up in surprise before standing up to get his dolls back. When that didn’t work, he started crying.

  “I’d better take him home,” Wilam told Styna and handed her the dolls.

  “It’s still early. It’s okay, he can’t break them.” As soon as she’d given the pretend people back to Kristag, Styna looked at Wilam. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interfere, but why not let him play a bit? I don’t want you to leave yet.”

  Wilam nodded. He knew why he’d done this, but he could hardly tell Styna that after what he’d just proposed.

  Kristag had other ideas. He threw the dolls onto the floor and stepped on them. Then he did the same with the little homes, which could be broken.

  “Stop it!” Wilam tried to not raise his voice, embarrassed for Styna. He tried to take Kristag by the arm, but not too tight. Kristag started kicking and shouting, like he always did when he didn’t get his way. “No, I don’t play. I go ’way!”

  Only, this time Wilam wasn’t alone at home and he felt he had to show Styna that he was able to deal with it. “We are going home.”

  “No, no!” Kristag shouted and flung himself into a full-blown tantrum, screaming and biting.

  Wilam shouted for him to behave, his eyes wetter than Kristag’s, but he had to get the boy outside, away from where he could damage Styna’s things. He clamped his arms around Kristag while struggling to put him into his coat.

  “Give him to me.” Styna lifted the boy out of Wilam’s arms and slapped his backside so hard it startled both Kristag and Wilam into silence. Then she carried him to her mat, put him down and told him to stay there. Wilam dropped the coats and had to consciously close his mouth.

  “What?” Styna asked.

  “You hit him?”

  “It works, doesn’t it?” As if nothing had happened, Styna filled up the cups once more and handed one to Wilam.

  Now what? She wasn’t Kristag’s mother. Even his mother would’ve never done that. Shocked by the realization that Kristag’s father would, Wilam sat back down. He had liked the idea of being a family just a few moments ago. Now he didn’t know what he liked anymore.

  “If you really want to, we could get committed and I’ll come with you and Elsa,” Styna said.

  He stared at her. Had she no idea?

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Yes, of course, I still want to, but… I thought… the cattle?”

  Styna laughed at his confusion. “Someone will take my zibots.”

  Once again, Wilam had to turn away because he felt his eyes go hot, ashamed for his lack of control, angry at her for just carrying on and not even looking the least bit sorry, angry even more at himself for thinking that after what he had done. But most angry – no disgusted – with the idea in the back of his mind that if he said yes, he’d not have to deal with Kristag’s temper again.

  Styna pulled at his arm. “Hey, if it upsets you that much?”

  “No, I want to. I don’t know why I do this.”

  “Well, don’t hide it. There’s nothing wrong with being happy.”

  “But–?” Wilam looked at Kristag.

  Styna followed his look, stood up and walked to the mat. Kristag reached out, put his arms around her neck and let her carry him back to the carpet. After pouring the boy a drink, Styna looked at Wilam. “Now do you still want to go?” />
  “Where we go?” Kristag asked.

  Wilam let her explain about moving all their things and building a new home in a different place, big enough for the three of them. “Maybe even bigger,” she said.

  Wilam didn’t miss her hint. Kristag seemed not in the least opposed to living with Styna. He was cuddled in her arms. “Definitely bigger.”

  It went quiet when the meaning of that sank in.

  “Do you really think I was a bad father all this time?”

  “No, I don’t. I shouldn’t have said that,” she answered.

  But now, in the light of all this, Wilam had to tell her that he believed it. He told her why Kristag had hit the dolls, and told her what had happened in town. “I could have seriously injured him, Styna. I don’t even remember half of it. What if Jema hadn’t stopped me?”

  “So you’re afraid I’ll be a bad mother to Kristag?”

  “No, I didn’t mean that–” He stopped when he saw she was joking.

  “My brothers used to make it a contest to get into trouble,” she said. “One of them always lost. He was like you; he’d go into snotters as soon as my dad lifted his hand.”

  Wilam had to check if she was joking again. She pushed him playfully. “I liked that one better.” She handed him her cup. “So do you want to make it official? Just between us, since there won’t be much of a ceremony on Kun DJar?”

  That was something Wilam could understand. This time he refilled the cups. “Well, there’s no more Life, so how about ‘For the time Kun DJar gives us’?” he asked.

  “To a life of no limit,” Styna proposed, and lifted her cup to touch Wilam’s.

  “And mine!” Kristag said, and raised his cup too.

  NOBODY’S FAULT

  Kunag was busy sketching the twelve of them in perspective to the size of the clearing when Maike announced her plans: The day after next they would move further west to see if they could find the other coast. She wanted to give it a kor before turning back – time enough to collect and dry food for the trip home.

  “Tomorrow I’ll take another walk north, to see how far these fields of tubers reach, to get some idea of how many people this place can feed. Kunag, you’ll have to come with me to draw a decent map,” Maike said.

  “Hey, what about my map? I made a beautiful one last time. You just don’t appreciate me,” Leyon whimpered.

  “That’s right, you poor boy. How about you come along too, so you can carry the plamals?”

  “Thanks very much,” Leyon replied, and winked at Kunag.

  Kunag was glad that Leyon would come. Though she’d never given him a hard time, Kunag felt uneasy about the idea of going with just Maike. Besides, the notion of having to leave this place had him feeling sick. He didn’t want to give up visiting the creatures at night.

  Maike woke them up early the next morning. They left the clearing on the north-west side and walked between the fields full of tuber grasses and the forest surrounding it. It wasn’t a path, but the small gap was good enough for them to walk on, one behind the other.

  The land rose slowly with the north hills. The field of edible plamals kept stretching in front of them, though only four different species grew here – the yellow tubers and the orange bulbs they had eaten on the east-coast, and two they’d eaten on the way over.

  “If there are hills on all sides of the clearing, won’t we get another flood?” Kunag asked.

  “The land doesn’t rise in the south-east; it slopes down to a mud lake,” Leyon answered, but pointed forward. “I think I see the end.”

  Maike agreed to walk that far. They rested north of the field where thick vegetation formed another forest under a low canopy – low enough that Wolt could probably reach it. For the first time since forever Kunag enjoyed sitting in the shade while making his map. Not that it made a difference, as Kun wasn’t warm, but the idea was there.

  Maike and Leyon collected some tubers. Walking between those grasses, their newly-grown hair standing upright at about the same height, Kunag got the notion they were walking plants. Still smiling at the image that followed the thought, he heard a familiar sound: The vibration he now knew so well. He turned slowly and looked into the undergrowth, answering the call. As he let his gaze drop, Kunag saw one on the ground. It sat still. To anybody else it would be a plamal. Did this creature belong to those he’d made friends with, or to a different group?

  “Come on then,” he whispered.

  No sign of recognition. The creature was watching him, so he lay down flat on his stomach and wriggled forward a little. It moved back, but not far. It didn’t know him, but was as curious as the others had been. Kunag started talking to it and crawled forward little by little.

  “What in Bue’s name are you doing?”

  At the moment Maike spoke, Kunag was pulled back out from under the bush by his legs. He only caught a glimpse of the eyecreature jumping away.

  “Who were you talking to?” Leyon asked, letting go.

  “Nothing!”

  No matter how much he scanned the forest floor, Kunag could see no others. Maike wanted to move on, so Kunag reluctantly packed up and started off without a word. Leyon caught up and apologized for having pulled him, then asked if Kunag could please stop being moody with him. Kunag tried, but he was annoyed, not so much at Leyon, but at the idea of having to leave tomorrow.

  Maike talked more than Leyon on the way home. She told them about her work on DJar, on Breberer, and her life on Depeter before its liberation, which must have been pretty bad. She talked about SJilai as well. Together with Leyon she recalled the pranks he had pulled on her. Kunag started to see that the two of them were quite close. To match Leyon’s pranks, he told them about sneaking into the pilot station and about the caricatures that had angered Frimon and Aryan.

  “Will we come back here after tomorrow?” he asked Maike once they arrived back at camp, where warm meals were waiting for them.

  “I was hoping to find the edge of the sea and travel back all the way along the northern seacoast, but I have no idea how long that would take and they’ll be expecting us back already,” she answered.

  “It would take twice as long, even if we account for the mountains slowing us down, and there might be no natural supplies of drinking water in that direction,” Hani said, pulling from her pack a SJilai printout which showed the whole continent, including the mountains and some rivers.

  Kunag jumped up. “If you had this map all the time, why did we have to go exploring? Why did I have to draw all those maps?” Not giving them a chance to answer, he walked away south to where his creatures were.

  Nini caught up as he entered the forest. “Don’t run, Kunag. Your map is worth a lot more than Hani’s. Hers just shows the land and the large rivers. We needed it to determine our direction, but it shows no detail. You do the plants, the animals and all the small things that can only be seen from the ground, like the water holes, which are important for next time.”

  Kunag kept walking, unwilling to listen or to return. “I’m not going tomorrow.”

  Nini didn’t answer. The eyecreatures announced their presence the moment they arrived, a brief “Hello, how are you?”

  “Watch this,” Kunag said to make up for his moodiness. He bent down and let one of them roll into his arms before standing back up to stroke it.

  “You see?” Nini whispered. “You have contributed to this trip more than any of us. You’ve found and contacted intelligent life. No map can match that.”

  Kunag kept stroking his creature. He wasn’t really that upset about the other map; what upset him was the thought of having to go back to cold, grey, creatureless town.

  “But it will remain our secret,” he said, putting the animal back down.

  “For a while if you want, Kunag, but not forever.”

  “Do you know what people do with life they find? They stick it in cages and do tests on it!”

  The eyecreatures retreated back to the canopy in a bit of a hurry.r />
  “I will not let them do that, Kunag,” Nini answered, still whispering. She suggested he tell Remag once they returned and they could come back together.

  All Kunag remembered was the zoologist kicking his butt. “I won’t go back to town,” he answered.

  “Why not? Because of your dad?”

  Kunag jerked his shoulder away from her and started back to camp, knowing all the while how unreasonable he was. He went straight to his mat.

  The next morning there was little time to think. Where the stream disappeared into a little underground cave, over which they could walk, they entered the western hills. Kunag looked back a few times, wondering if they would see him leave. But there was little he could do other than concentrate; the bush was thick and the land uneven. Maike came walking next to him at one point and explained, as Nini had, that his map was just as important as Hani’s.

  “I know.”

  At the rise of the first moon they settled on a new campsite in a small clearing. Marya made another meal. It looked a bit different again, but it still tasted of nothing more than what Sinti called dirt, though she never said it out loud anymore. The camp was nearly as good as the other one, but Kunag missed his evening visits. Who knew if maybe they were waiting for him? He left for a walk anyway, but this time Leyon came running after him. “Can I come?”

  Kunag would have rather gone alone, but he didn’t say it. “You don’t want to go back to town, do you?” he asked instead.

  “No way, I can’t stand it there. It’s getting too much like DJar, you know – too many rules, too many people minding everybody’s business.”

  Kunag hadn’t noticed that, but it didn’t matter. “How about the two of us stay here, you know, at yesterday’s camp?”

  “You’re joking?”

  “No, I’m serious. I want to stay here. Not walk back for moons on end.”

  “Did you ask?”

  “No!” Of course he’d not asked. “They’re not going to let us. We’ll have to run away.”