Of a Note in a Cosmic Song; Part Four

by Nōnen Títi

  The next idea soon followed: They’d make a similar shelter for the girls and the original square hut could then become their dining room and cooking shelter. The tiny one could be bricked up at the top and made into an oven. Once the ideas started rolling they worked together every day. The reeds were much easier to deal with and the second shelter took shape fast. It was placed facing south.

  Now they had two big shelters, a cooking shelter, and a brick oven. They each had a thick sleeping mat, a few good cooking pots – fired in the new oven, heated with reeds – new bowls, baskets, ladles, and each shelter had a bowl and jug for washing.

  “It’s like a luxury hotel,” Nini said.

  What was missing was a latrine; they just didn’t have the tools to dig deeper into the solid earth. The only thing that could work was the metal container they had originally cooked in. A water well was completely out of the question, but they constructed a moss filter and then went to the seaside for a few days to collect and test the water for drinking.

  According to Hani, it was now the second moon of Station Seven. Sometimes it seemed they had been here forever, just the four of them. It was two stations since they’d left town – even the expedition itself seemed long forgotten. Nini had trouble remembering what some people looked like. “Two Trees”, as they’d named it, was now home. The best home on all the planet, according to Leyon – “The best in all the Bue-system.”

  Hani agreed, saying she wished Daili could see this, since they were now living as true Kunjari. “But it would be even better with more people.”

  “As far as I can see, nobody needs to come. I like it like this. Maybe they’ll forget about us,” Leyon said.

  “That would soon get very lonely.”

  Hani and Leyon went on like that for a while, each finding more reasons to argue their point. It was all in good fun until Leyon became a little too hopeful: “Maybe they’ll never send anybody because they’re all dead and we have the whole planet to ourselves.”

  Hani didn’t respond right away. Nini watched Kunag, who would be right back in town with his thoughts, remembering, against his will, those dreadful days of the disease that had taken his father. Maybe all of them were back there. It could happen again.

  “Spare me those thoughts,” Hani said, breaking the silence. “You can’t start a whole new colony with just four people.”

  Leyon moved up close to her. “Why not? Two men and two women. You and I would be good together.”

  She laughed at him, but a little discomfort was in her voice. “Forget it.”

  “Hey, I’m only saying if,” Leyon told her.

  Maybe Maike had been right to be cautions. Leyon’s eyes spoke what he wanted more than his words did. Hani, of course, wasn’t helpless; she had her own strong mind and wouldn’t be pushed around, but she was still young.

  “Let’s go to sleep for now,” Nini said.

  Hani needed no encouragement.

  “Don’t let him push you into anything,” Nini told her once they were on their mats.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll tell you when he gets too much trouble.”

  But then Nini couldn’t sleep for a long time. A colony of four people… Like Leyon, she would never contribute to a colony in that way. Her line ended here. This place was so beautiful, the kind of place you wanted for a child to grow up in. This feeling had come and gone over the years, though not so much when she was a user. Why would she want a child, after all? DJar had nothing to offer it. But on Freberer, on SJilai, and especially here she felt the loss. All her life had been for nothing. All she knew and enjoyed in vain; her whole existence a waste, for she would never have a child to share it with.

  Like so many times before, it sent her to sleep with water in her eyes.

  HOT LAVA

  It was true that everything had a positive side, even something as bad as the epidemic. It had transformed people like Jari and Anoyak, who had put aside their scars, whether physical or emotional, and come back to life.

  Anoyak was more mature; he still revered Frimon, but as a father rather than as an idol like some of the Society’s followers did. Jari was helping Kalim and Bas set up the starscope on the cliffs by the sea, where it would be used as a weather station. She also assisted Tini with the construction of the power shop in the dunes below it.

  Since Kalim and Tini had found some consolation with each other, Jema no longer went to see either Jari or Laytji at their home. Kalim had made it very clear that he didn’t want to see her again, so the girls, and sometimes Tiya or Jos, were the only ones who came to Jema anymore. Jema had helped Jos and Laytji start up Learners and then left it up to them to run it; they were more than capable and there was no need for more people.

  So, after not having had any visitors since forever, Jema was more than a little surprised to have four in one evening not even two kor after that election incident, the rumours of which were everywhere. Jos and Jari arrived within minutes of each other, and, before Jema even had the chance to introduce them, Remko and Tarin appeared together.

  “We thought you could do with some company,” Remko told her.

  “I don’t get lonely that fast, but I must admit that I wouldn’t mind it if the expedition returned tomorrow.”

  Tarin had brought something she said may help pass the time, adding that she’d made it for Nini and had only just finished or she would have brought it sooner. It was a plastipack filled from front to back with Tarin’s handwriting. They were the old DJar myths the girl had memorized, along with some other stories. “I put them on paper first, but they were lost in the storm, so I had to start again,” she said.

  After being told that Jos was a teacher, Tarin suggested they read them to the children at Learners. “It’s like a mystery. Every story has a deeper truth you have to find, and it doesn’t really matter if that truth is exactly the same as it was for the ancient people.” She insisted that the stories shouldn’t be forgotten and could help overcome sadness. “It helped me after my grandmother died, after Jitsi died, and after Thalo’s suicide.”

  “No offence or anything, but I would have thought you’d be glad to be rid of Thalo for good,” Jari said.

  Tarin and Remko exchanged looks. “You may find this hard to believe, but, in a way, he helped Tarin,” Remko answered.

  It was clear that Jari found that hard to believe. Jos was less obvious about it, but Jema noticed him acknowledge Jari’s look. Tarin, only a year older than Jari but much more mature, had seen that too, and tried to explain. “I was always the odd one out. Long before SJilai I had come to believe that I wasn’t worth being alive. I thought people would get sick from touching me. I even thought my grandmother was dead because she touched me. Then Thalo came to my room. He had girls everywhere, but he came to me. He touched me – more than that – and he didn’t die, at least not then, and when he did I no longer blamed myself.”

  Tarin was totally convinced about this. Yes, she’d been scared, but it had opened her up. “It was never about Thalo; it was about me,” she said. “Just like Kun had to remove the veil of Kelot before she could bear his children.” She tapped the plastipack.

  This must be Remko’s insight. He was so like Nini.

  “Maybe they can help Laytji,” Jos said, indicating the stories. He explained that Laytji was staying away from Learners more often than not. Not that it made a difference, since the kids stayed away as well, but Jos was here to ask Jema to talk to her. “I think she may be depressed. She hasn’t recovered from the loss of her mother.”

  Jari readily agreed. “She gets herself in trouble with Kalim on purpose, just so she has a reason to cry, I think. She went with Sian to the beach that night of the fireworks just to spite him. She could have died with Sian, too.”

  Jema promised she’d try and talk to Laytji, but try was all she could do. “She isn’t as easy to get to as you are,” she told Jari, who blushed and glanced at Jos.

  As it turned out, Laytji was very easy to get to. It took
but one question from Jema and the volcano erupted, but before that she had to find the girl, for which she was directed to the beach. Once there, she was confronted with yet another memory of Thalo, this one a little less forgiving.

  Worse than seeing the physical challenge between the men trying to prove their ‘manhood’ – including Kolyag who could get in serious trouble for that – was the effect the whole thing had on the spectators. Maybe it was no surprise that Aryan was among them; everybody knew of his fallout with Maike. There was no stopping certain instincts and, in some cases, no hiding it either: Roilan was right in the middle of it and he couldn’t keep his hands from cheering along.

  That was when Jema noticed Laytji – in a dress she’d previously seen on Daili – standing right next to him. Maybe it was that, more than the idea of her watching this, which caused Jema to be a bit rougher than she’d intended when she pulled Laytji away. “I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to get involved with those abusive perverts,” she said, making sure Roilan heard her words.

  But Roilan wasn’t the one to get upset about that; he blushed and turned away while Laytji threw a tantrum. She started pulling her hair, crying and screaming that nobody cared about her.

  That got way more attention than Jema liked, including from Kolyag. “I wonder what Elsa will say when she hears about this,” Jema threatened him.

  It was lucky that Aryan was around to calm Kolyag down… Still, it took more than a little convincing to get Laytji to come home with her. It was Roilan’s, “It’s okay. Go. I’ll catch up with you,” which calmed Laytji in the end, and it took a lot longer before she was ready to talk.

  “He’s not forcing me into anything. He’s upset enough already about having used Sian as his spy to get at Kolyag, and he only told her to stay in the dunes so she wouldn’t get hurt from the fighting. How could he know the fog would chase them? You just hate him, but he’s the only one who’s nice to me anymore. I might as well be dead – nobody cares about the dead people anyway. Nobody cares about my mom. Kalim don’t; he just weeps for Tikot. Hani don’t because she left, and you don’t either! Kalim says you used her to get Learners back and now she’s dead because she was tired of fighting against people who used her. And nobody cared about Sian dying either, because she bullied people, but her father always bullied her, but Roilan was trying to help her and now Tigor bullies him!” The flood of words had the girl gasping for air between tears.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before that’s how you feel about me? Why didn’t you tell me when we set up Learners?” Jema asked, after having swallowed an impulse to deny the charges.

  Laytji looked like Daili in many ways. She had the same eyes and build, though she was less soft and calm. Laytji was hot lava, partly due to her age – she was still only fourteen – and partly due to having been under pressure for way too long without an outlet. “Kalim only weeps for Tikot” meant as much as he couldn’t comfort her because of his own pain. Hani’s leaving had been for the same reason, and Jema had neglected to look beyond the image of a young girl with teaching aspirations. Laytji no longer cared for Learners; she’d only come to ask, without words, for comfort.

  “I can’t change who I am, Laytji, and I can’t change what happened. But I do care about you and I did care an awful lot for your mom, and she knew that, even if we didn’t talk anymore. Maybe I should have come to you after she died. Maybe I didn’t talk to you because I felt guilty. Can you understand that? You’re also right that I don’t like Roilan, but even if I did, I think he’s too old for you and you are way too young to be watching those things.”

  Laytji, in too much need for comfort, didn’t fight the peace offering. She let Jema hold her and cried herself to sleep. Jema put her on Nini’s mat and sent a neighbour with a message to Kalim so he wouldn’t worry. From then on, Laytji spent most of her time in Jema’s home, and she cried at least half of that. Jema let her. Words wouldn’t make it better, at any rate, and Laytji just needed to be held.

  When the expedition finally returned at the start of the first moon of Station Seven, it brought as much distress as relief. For Jema, because, despite knowing she was safe, Nini was not with them. For Laytji and Jari, the disappointment of Hani and Kunag also staying behind hurt them as much as it brought them closer together.

  Within a kor of returning, Yako moved in with Marya. All the adventures and discoveries were recalled day after day; there were no more quiet nights.

  In the meantime, the weather was changing; it became even drier and dustier than before. That was aside from one downpour, not of water, but of tiny crawling things that dropped from a huge green cloud. Jema was told that had happened before, that these things would wriggle into the soil and disappear… only they didn’t. That is, they didn’t in the fields; they jumped about like giant fleas, plagued the cattle, and uprooted the crops, making the farmers frantic. Not only that, but the wind, which occasionally blew dune sand all the way into town, became so bad that people couldn’t go outside without covering their mouths.

  That stopped the games on the beach for a while, and then they were banned for good by Benjamar after a whole population vote – a referendum initiated by Frimon after Jema had told him what she’d seen when finding Laytji.

  This time Jema did bring in her paper, but instead of yes or no, she wrote: The definition of otacy is a share in the ballot, not the balls, the way some want-to-be tyrants like it.

  DUTIFUL

  The only thing Wilam could think was that it was a good thing that Styna had taken Kristag for a walk this morning.

  He stared at the ground in front of him, where the can was lying upside down, leaking its contents – lander fuel-based pesticide – into the soil. He’d been warned to watch out for the fog when the noise started, but Wilam had not been alert for the townspeople who had invaded his field just now, overpowered him, and forced him to his knees. Of the five of them, he only recognized Yako and Jema.

  They bombarded him with questions: “Define weed! Define pest! Which are the Kun DJar pests?”

  “Those j-jumping things that d-dig up the crops,” Wilam answered. He shouldn’t stutter so much.

  “And the weeds?”

  “Those tumble threads. It wasn’t my idea. It was Tigor’s. I didn’t want it.”

  “Why are they weeds?”

  Wilam didn’t know. He didn’t want this interrogation.

  “Why?” Yako repeated.

  “Because the crops get strangled.” Wilam didn’t care anymore about strangled crops. He wanted to leave this planet and never come back. Where was Tigor now? Where were the other farmers?

  “You mean the threads are better at surviving than the crops? They don’t get pushed out of the way, like the blobs are pests, because there are many of them?”

  Wilam nodded; whatever they said. He just wanted to go home. He let Yako pull him up. He saw many feet standing around them and it wasn’t just townspeople; many of them were in boots.

  “Now look at it from the perspective of Kun DJar’s original inhabitants and tell me who the pests are,” Jema ordered.

  Wilam shrugged.

  “Look at the devastation we’ve caused to their homes. By our definition, wouldn’t that give them the right to eradicate us? And that’s exactly what will happen if you don’t stop right now! Don’t you hear the fog? That’s Kun DJar giving a warning. You’re lucky we came looking right away when she started, or you’d be dead before the end of the day. How many times does the planet have to attack before you learn? Not only that, but you’re killing Kun DJar life. If this turned out to be an intelligent creature we’d be talking murder, and you’ve killed your own crops.”

  “I was just doing my duty.”

  “Your duty? Since when is it your duty to kill your own livelihood, you idiot?” Jema picked up a seedling from the ground and held it close to him. “Do you want me to take this plant to your son, so he can eat it? Do you want to lose him too?”

  “That’s enough!
”

  Hearing Kolyag’s voice addressing the protesters gave Wilam space to take a breath. He tried to swallow down the hurt that caused his eyes to burn. He couldn’t look up because of it.

  “Wilam is not the one responsible. He’s just doing his job. If you have a problem, go talk to Tigor and Roilan; they organized this,” Kolyag continued.

  “Another moron who shoves the responsibility of following orders onto those who give them. In that case, guess who killed all those people in the dunes when the fog last attacked?” Jema shouted to overcome the noise.

  “Another bitch who’s trying to tell farmers how to do their job!” Kolyag yelled back.

  “Because sheep need a dog to herd them, since they lack the brain cells to think for themselves!”

  “His doing his job is killing the planet! In case you haven’t noticed, the sprayed field drains down into the bati area,” Yako joined in the shouting.

  Relieved to no longer be the object of attention, Wilam stepped back and picked up the can.

  …Instantly it went silent, all but Kolyag: “Right now, I don’t care about batis!” Then, after having glanced at the sky, he continued without shouting. “Right now, I care about people reporting things they had no business with in the first place.”

  “Serves you right for leaving people standing alone after making a promise!”

  “I never said I wouldn’t vote, only that I’d protest it.”

  “Then you’re a hypocrite!”

  “I had no choice or they’d be after my children!”