Sense of Wonder: A Century of Science Fiction

by Leigh Grossman

  He grinned at her. Then he set off for his morning run.

  The mountain air exhilarated him. The parks were ideal for running. They started out as well-tended gardens, then tangled into untamed forests that hid chill sapphire lakes. The ever-present wind rippled the forest in waves, ethereal in its wild beauty.

  Although linguists translated the Teotecan word for these trees as snow-fir, they hardly looked like firs to Jeremiah. At this high altitude they grew only about twenty feet tall. Their trunks consisted of slender white stalks that spi-raled around each other. Clusters of white or pale green fruits bobbed around them, attached to the trunk every few inches, like snowy billiard balls but delicate and hollow. The pale green needles on the trunks could jab a person like bee stings and left punctures that took days to heal.

  The path he followed wound through the edges of the forest. He had started running three years ago because his poor showing on the Dahl construction crew had embarrassed him. Overweight and out-of-shape, he had struggled through his shifts. Now he enjoyed running for its own sake. He would have liked a partner, but he had yet to convince anyone on Coba that it provided a sane form of exercise.

  Had his stay in Viasa been voluntary, he would have thrived. Calanya Quis not only fascinated him as a research subject, it was fun to play. The Calani took it far beyond what he had learned Outside. Savan’s game incorporated the wisdom of an expert who had spent decades mastering the dice. Niev’s style reflected his good-natured outlook on life. Hevtar played with a naivete that stumbled at times and soared at others.

  None of them, however, could match Kev’s formidable gift. During one session the Third Level gave every detail about the failure of a beacon that warned riders in the mountains. It was powered by the Viasa-Tehnsa dam. Yet Jeremiah knew Kev and Khal had discussed it only with dice, never words. And Kiev’s Quis brilliance only began in his ability to process huge amounts of information. With style and flair, he manipulated abstract portrayals of the political fluxes among the Twelve Estates, molding the very flow of power on Coba, for Viasa and for Khal.

  Jeremiah often found Khal in his thoughts. He had never known anyone like her. He couldn’t imagine a woman of her status on Earth paying him any attention. Even if she had, he would have been too flustered to respond. Khal, however, liked his reticence. It was, after all, a Viasa trait, and expected to some extent for men throughout the Twelve Estates.

  A massive wall enclosed the parks, with sculpted holes and ridges that let it act as a windbreak. As he ran along the wall, he left Aza behind. She was walking on top of it, watching him, her gun at her hip, the wind whipping her tawny hair around her shoulders. She made an impressive figure, towering and muscled, lean under her violet uniform. He wondered if Coban women had always been this big, or if they had bred for those traits over the generations.

  Jeremiah grinned. You can’t solve everything with brawn, he thought to Aza. Then he grabbed a handhold on the windbreak and started to climb.

  “Hey!” Aza yelled.

  Looking up, he saw her striding in his direction. As he neared the top of the wall, high above the ground, the wind picked up, ripping at his hair. Aza was running now. He smiled, wondering if she thought he would climb down the other side and vanish into the mountains. Maybe he should.

  He changed his mind when he reached the top.

  Even knowing the south and north sides of Viasa ended in cliffs, he wasn’t prepared for the reality. The builders had cut this windbreak out of the mountain. On the other side, the cliff plunged down in a vertical wall until it vanished into clouds. Far below that, mountains carpeted with mist rolled out to the horizon. He stood braced against the wind, an intense blue sky arching around him, vibrant and dark, as if he were on the pinnacle of the world.

  Aza came to a huffing stop next to him. “Are you crazy!” she shouted, her voice almost lost in the wind. Jeremiah grinned.

  “If anything happens to you,” she puffed, “Manager Viasa will throw me into prison and melt down the key.”

  With a laugh, he let himself down the inner side of the wall and started back to the parks. Aza followed, grumbling. As they descended into quieter air, her mutters resolved into words. “Crazy. Runs in circles and tries to fly. What ever happened to normal Calani?”

  “I never claimed I was normal,” he pointed out.

  She froze, then looked down, her face red. “Heh, you! Are you going to talk and get me into trouble?”

  “How will you get into trouble?” He jumped down onto a lawn of tiny snow-sphere dusters. “No one is here to see.”

  She jumped down next to him and peered through the snowfirs at the distant Estate. “So. Maybe not.” Turning back, she regarded him as if he were forbidden fruit. “I have to ask you something.”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s about the Skolian Imperialate.”

  “I’m no expert on Skolians.”

  She lowered her voice. “Is it true a man commands their military?”

  “Well, yes, it is.”

  “No! You make fun of me.”

  Jeremiah laughed. “It’s true.”

  She glowered at him. “Pah.”

  “Where did you hear about it?”

  “A whole slew of you Earth people came around here last year,” she explained. “They installed the computers Manager Viasa bought from them. One of the men told me.” She grinned. “Nice-looking fellow. like you.”

  “I didn’t know Khal bought an Allied computer system.”

  Aza shrugged. “They’ve had it a while. No one here really knows how to use it, though.” She leaned closer. “So it’s true? Imperator Valdoria is a man?”

  Mischief tugged at him. “You bet. He’s bigger than you, tougher than a clawcat, and meaner than a cheated dice player.”

  “Oh, blow.”

  “It’s true. His title is Imperator Skolia, though. Valdoria is his family name.”

  Aza scowled. “Valdoria-pootoria. Put all you offworld men in a Calanya and you wouldn’t cause so much trouble.” She pondered the thought. “Of course, none of you can play Quis worth spit.”

  “Spit, pah. I could Quis you out of your home, job, and every gold thread you own.”

  “A fledgling Calani and already he’s conceited.” She put her hands on her hips. “You think I can’t play Quis better than an offworlder? I can prove you’re wrong.”

  “I’m not supposed to play Quis with you.”

  “So now he’s a perfect Calani.”

  “I don’t have money to bet.”

  “You don’t need it.” She gave him an appraising look, her gaze traveling up his body with obvious suggestion. “I know something I’d rather win from you anyway.”

  Jeremiah’s smile vanished. Suggesting a man go to bed with a Quis opponent to pay off his debts amounted to calling him a prostitute. It floored him that she would imply such to the husband of an Estate Manager.

  His reaction must have shown on his face. She frowned. “Don’t act so traumatized. You’re the one who broke your Oath. What did you expect me to think?”

  “You thought wrong.”

  “Rumor says you weren’t a husband by choice.” Aza leaned against the windbreak. “You’re a healthy young fellow. Who could blame a body for thinking you’d want a change from a woman seventeen years your senior?”

  Jeremiah crossed his arms. The age difference made little difference to him. Khal’s formidable reserve bothered him far more. Even after fifteen days he had no idea if she felt anything for him beyond physical desire.

  “So paradise has problems, heh?” Aza made a sympathetic noise. “You can talk to me. I’m not just your guard, you know. I can be your friend too.”

  Friend? After she practically called him an adulterer?

  A defensive note crept into her voice. “I know I’m not high-level like you. But I’m no airbug either. Why, I personally saved Viasa from collapse.”

  “From collapse?” He raised his eyebrows. “So how come I never heard
about it?”

  “Well,” she amended. “Maybe not full collapse. But Viasa and Bahvla don’t get along.”

  “You mean Bahvla Estate?”

  “That’s right. Manager Bahvla sent an agent here to spy on the Calanya.” She looked smug. “I caught that scuttle-slug. Stomped her out. Put her in the Med House.”

  Dryly he said, “Remind me not to spy on the Calanya.”

  “How can you spy on what you are? Besides, no one hurts Calani. If I harmed one gorgeous hair on your gorgeous self, Manager Viasa would cork me in a bottle and throw it over the cliff.” She grimaced. “That would be as bad as the time she sent me to help out at Tehnsa Estate.”

  “What’s wrong with Tehnsa?”

  “Everything.” Aza waved her hand. “Without Viasa to help her, Manager Tehnsa would self-destruct.”

  He gave her a wicked look. “If Khal finds out you talked to me, she’ll send you to Tehnsa.”

  She looked alarmed. “I’d rather fall off the cliff.”

  “I hope not.” Jeremiah felt his legs growing cold. “Aza, I have to finish my run.”

  She shook her head. “Crazy offworlder.”

  He laughed, then took off again.

  * * * *

  On a morning when frost traced patterns on the window, an octet of guards showed up at Jeremiah’s suite. He recognized none of them. As they escorted him through unfamiliar halls, he grew uneasy. Had something happened to Khal? Last night his escort had never taken him to her suite. Although he didn’t see her every night, they spent most together, and if work kept her away she sent a message.

  They left him alone in an office paneled with darkwood. Armchairs stood on bronze rugs, and a desk across the room sat by a floor-to-ceiling window. Bookshelves lined the walls. A globe of Coba spun lazily on a stand, its huge polar ice caps glinting.

  The door opened behind him. He turned as Khal entered the room. It was odd to see her wearing dark trousers and shirt, with her braid hanging down her back. At night, she unwound her hair and relaxed in a robe.

  She closed the door and came over to him. Standing with her this way made him even more aware of her height. She also looked tired, as if she hadn’t slept.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  She wasted no time with formalities. “I realize the damage you caused my Estate resulted from ignorance. But understand me, Jeremiah—the sentence for a native Calani who committed such a crime would be prison.”

  He stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your Oath. And Aza.”

  So. Someone had found out he had been talking to his guard these past few days, during his runs. “I’m sorry you’re upset. But I never took the Oath of my free will. Besides, Aza and I only shared a few friendly exchanges.”

  Her voice turned to ice. “Friendly?”

  He suddenly realized at least part of the reason for her anger. Apparently Aza wasn’t the only one who had misread his desire to speak. “We only talked.”

  She pushed back disarrayed tendrils that had escaped her braid and curled around her face. “Is this truth?”

  “Of course it is. Don’t you know me well enough to see that?”

  The relief that broke through her reserve and washed over her face answered him more would have any words. In a more natural voice she said, “Kev and Savan suspected the two of you were talking several days ago. But they hesitated to speak. Such an accusation is a serious matter.” She shook her head. “I had good reason to trust Aza. A few years ago she uncovered a Bahvla plot to infiltrate my Calanya. Now it appears Bahvla arranged the episode so Aza could gain my trust.”

  He didn’t want to believe Aza had used him. Although he found her abrasive, he had thought she might help him escape. And she enjoyed talking to him. Surrounded by the reserved Viasa Calani, with his even more reticent wife for company in the evening, he missed simple conversation.

  Finally he said, “This Calanya Oath is loneliness.”

  She watched his face. “I had thought…you seemed happy.”

  “At times I am.” As much as he wanted to reach for her, to tell her how much he valued their nights together, he held back, wary of her cool nature. “But the seclusion, the constraints—it will never be natural to me.”

  She exhaled, stirring a lock of hair that curled around her cheek. “Jeremiah, I understand. But if you can’t keep the Oath, you can’t live in the Calanya or play Quis with the others. You would have to stay in a solitary suite. Input of any kind alters the patterns you build. As a Calani, you are a master of the dice. Everything that affects you goes into your Quis and from there into Viasa.”

  He shook his head. “I just don’t see how my talking to Aza could cause a problem.”

  “Which is why she homed in on you.” Khal touched his arm. Then her reserve slid back into place and she withdrew her hand, putting the invisible wall between them that always came up, except when they made love.

  “Aza would never have dared speak to a native Calani, “ Khal said. “She went after the one person vulnerable to her. She purposely misled you, as with her lie about our inability to use the new computers. That all went from your dice into the Calanya Quis, then into mine, and from there into the public net. Her patterns were subtle, but repetition on the Outside magnified them. It made Viasa look incompetent.” She paused. “Aza also encouraged you to give her information, such as your knowledge about Skolians. She took all that to Bahvla, giving Bahvla advantage over Viasa.”

  He just shook his head, feeling as if he had taken a punch in the stomach.

  Khal spoke in a subdued voice. “I feared you had chosen to sabotage Viasa, to strike at me.”

  The words surprised him. “Why? It wouldn’t have convinced you to let me go.”

  “No. But it would have given you revenge.”

  That she would even wonder if he might act out of malice bothered him. He lived by a simple principle: don’t hurt people. It didn’t work all the time, nor were his decisions always clear-cut, but he stuck to it as best he could. “I would never harm my own wife that way. Or Viasa. The people here never did anything to me. Hurting them would only make me like myself less.”

  Some of her tension eased. “If only all of us were as even-natured.”

  Bitterly he said, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t.”

  “Eventually you will adapt to our ways.”

  “How?” He heard the betraying loneliness in his voice. “How can anyone adapt to the isolation? Look at Hevtar. I’m the Calani nearest to his age, and I’m ten years older. What kind of life is that for a fourteen-year-old boy?”

  Khal tensed. “Hevtar is unhappy? You have seen this?”

  “Well, no.” Her dismay startled him. “He seems very content.” Dryly Jeremiah added, “As long as he doesn’t have to see me.”

  Khal sighed. “Don’t judge him harshly. He has loyalty to his father. He will overcome his resentment toward you.”

  Jeremiah couldn’t imagine why Hevtar would see him as a threat to his father. No one could touch Kev at Quis, least of all him. “When I see Kev and Hevtar together, it reminds me of how much I miss my own family.”

  Her face took on an odd expression, as if he were forcing her to confront a decision she wanted to avoid.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She pushed back her hair. Then she went to her desk and touched a panel. When a drawer slid open, she removed a silver disk. “This came in at the star-port eight days ago. Dahl serves as our contact, so a robot drone delivered it there. Manager Dahl sent it to me.”

  His pulse leapt. Without thinking through her probable reaction, he strode to the desk and reached for the disk.

  Khal drew back her arm. “Your Oath.”

  His need to hear the disk swept over him. Who sent it? His family? Maybe he could wrest it away from her. She had height and muscles to her advantage, but he was fester.

  Slow down, he told himself. Even if he managed to take the disk, it wouldn’t be lo
ng before his guards showed up and knocked him out. Then what did he have? He preferred an option that neither antagonized nor injured Khal.

  “If you weren’t going to play it,” he said, “why show it to me?”

  She hesitated. “It is difficult to know what to do.”

  “My hearing it won’t change my Quis. My wish to go home is already in every game I play.”

  To his surprise, she didn’t deny his words. “I know. I try to mute it, but I can only do so much. The people of the Twelve Estates know how you feel.”

  “Doesn’t that weaken your Estate?”

  “It does make Viasa look—barbaric,” she admitted. She spread her hands. “We live in a modern age, with legal and social restraints on how we court our men. Even Managers must operate within certain social bounds. I knew I would receive censure for giving you no choice. And I have. I wanted you enough to go through with it despite that.” Obviously self-conscious, she said, “But I’ve also found—well, I think many of our women would secretly like to return to the days when a warrior could carry off a husband for herself. They see me as an ancient warrior queen and you as the captured prince. That seems to have enhanced my image. People find it rather, well—mythical.”

  He stared at her, floored by such strange statements, especially applied to him, Jeremiah Coltman, geek of the anthropology department. Although he had lost his chubby build, he otherwise had a view of himself far different from how the Cohans saw him. Or not different, but rather, the same qualities that had made him unsuccessful with women on Earth had the opposite effect here. Unfortunately, there was such a thing as too much “success.”

  “Your world is a lot different than mine,” he said.

  “I imagine so.”

  “But Khal, given all that, you must see that my hearing the message won’t change my Quis.”

  She paused. “It is hard to judge the effect before the cause.”