by J. L. Hilton
Chapter Seventeen
The Glin was gaunt and tired, and her clothes were dirty. The milky coating of tears covered her eyes, so thick that they appeared almost solid white.
J’ni recorded the interview with her bracer. “I’d like to know if she’s happy here, and treated well.”
“Are you working very hard?” Kitik asked the question in Glinnish.
“Yes, can I see my husband and children? Are they well?”
“She says that she is very thankful for all Tikat has done,” Kitik told J’ni. “People in her village were starving before we came.”
From the way she looked, J’ni would say she was still starving.
This was J’ni’s fifth interview with the Glin in the Tikati “Progress Center,” and so far every one of Kitik’s translations had been a complete lie. He had no idea that J’ni knew the truth, and it was becoming difficult for her to continue playing his game. She wished she could have one moment alone with the Glin, to speak to them in their own language, to tell them she knew the truth. If only she could show them the nagyx and ask if they’d seen Duin, or maybe his family. But Kitik never left her side.
The nagyx was tucked away under her clothes. She didn’t know what would happen if the Tikati found it and figured out what it was, but she couldn’t imagine leaving the necklace on Asteria. The stone was her connection to Duin, and as long as she wore it she felt him near. So near, she had to fight the urge to run through the center looking for him.
Kitik told the Glin, “Your children are safe. You must work hard for their food and education.”
“But, if I could see them…” The Glin was overcome with emotion and fell at the Tikati’s feet, her hands grasping at his bava. “Please, Plip was only a baby.”
“She seems upset.” J’ni tried not to betray any emotion, assuming Kitik even understood human emotion.
“She’s very, very grateful,” Kitik said in English as he led J’ni away from the pleading mother. “Let’s rejoin the others.”
This portion of the Progress Center was a processing plant for bio-fuel. Following the liaison over a catwalk between large, outdoor algae tanks, J’ni paused to appreciate the view while she blinked away tears and composed herself.
Shafts of light broke through the silver clouds, and the muddy green landscape steamed with sparkling dew and rainbows. She would have thought it was beautiful, if she didn’t know how much the Glin disliked sunlight, and if she didn’t see all of the canals and dams being built by Glin, under the authority of the Tikati.
The beauty was also tarnished by the thought that those Glin were being separated from their families. On Meglin, the children outnumbered the adults. But in the Center, she hadn’t seen a single child, and the exchange with the desperate mother explained why. Holding their children hostage quelled revolt and encouraged compliance.
“May I record this?” She gestured to the dam projects. The damn projects.
“Of course. We are very proud of our power generation facility. This will allow us to expand the Center and provide the Glin with more opportunities to work for food, housing and clothing.”
“Didn’t they have all of those things, before you came?” As if she didn’t know the answer.
“They lived a very crude existence.”
J’ni thought of the woven structures of Meglin, and the beautiful, tailored suit Sala helped her to make. She also thought about the bava fabric, which Kitik wore.
“Your clothes are not crude, they are quite lovely, Liaison Kitik.”
“Thank you, Witness O’Riordan.”
“Envoy Duin of the Freedom Council told me that fabric was made by Glin weavers. Do you have them working for food and housing, too?”
“You must disregard everything that terrorist has ever told you,” said Kitik in his slick, ingratiating voice.
I don’t fucking think so, she thought, but tried to keep it from showing on her face.
“I am aware that you’ve spent a great deal of time listening to his lies. And I know that he’s been very persuasive. I hope you will allow me an equal opportunity to persuade you.”
His words gave J’ni a shiver of dread. How much did he know about her connection to Tikati Enemy Number One? She wondered if Kitik had been toying with her all this time, keeping her under his watchful eye so that she could not search for Duin.
When they entered the building, another Tikati approached Kitik and spoke in their odd clicking language. This Tikati, like others she’d seen in the Progress Center, did not wear a bava. Instead, it wore a kind of bulky, armored suit that reminded her of the plating on the outside of the Tikati ships.
“You must return to Asteria.” Kitik said to her.
Why?
“But the inspection is going on for five more days.” And I haven’t found Duin, yet.
“Dr. Levin and the others will remain. A ship has come to take you back. This way.”
J’ni racked her brain for some possible explanation. Did Blaze have information about Duin? Perhaps those businessmen from Earth had told the Tikati that she and Duin were lovers, and Blaze was trying to keep her from being held hostage? Or was it something else? Her parents? INC? Another bombing?
“I regret your departure. But I hope you have been able to obtain enough information to enlighten your people.”
Oh, I sure have. “Thank you, Liaison Kitik,” she said, calm as she could manage while boiling with frustration. “You have been very helpful. I can’t wait to send this information to Earth. I’m sure they’ll find it as interesting as I do.”
In the short time between leaving the algae tanks and walking through the building, the skies had grown dark and a light rain began to fall. The landing platform outside was gray and wet, but the pilot’s glowing UN flight suit and helmet beckoned like a patch of blue sky.
Beside the building was a plant with enormous foliage. The Tikati pulled out one of the thick stems, using the attached leaf as a kind of umbrella. He handed one to J’ni. Pitat was the sound it made when the rain hit it.
Kitik walked her to the ship. “Please give the regards of Tikat to the leaders of Earth, Witness O’Riordan.”
“I will.” She wished the goddamn liaison would go away so she could talk to the pilot alone and convince him to let her stay.
“There is an ambassador.” J’ni recognized the pilot’s voice immediately. “I’ve been asked to return him to Asteria, too.”
The Tikati did not respond. It did not move.
Holy shit, Belloc. What are you trying to do? Was this some new plan of Blaze’s?
After a few moments, the liaison asked, “Why do you want him?” in a tone that seemed to strain the limits of its usual calm.
“Those are my orders.”
Kitik turned his flickering eyes to J’ni. “Witness O’Riordan, do you have any idea why Earth would want to interfere in the proceedings of Tikat justice?”
Tikat justice was an oxymoron, as far as she was concerned. But, J’ni began to grasp the situation and kicked herself for not thinking of it before. “According to our laws, emissaries have legal immunity. We believe this is necessary to facilitate diplomatic relations, especially during conflict. I know that Tikat does not acknowledge the validity of Envoy Duin’s position, or the legality of the Freedom Council. But Earth does.”
“Then our detention of this particular Glin might be viewed as inappropriate, even though he is guilty of spying and insurrection?”
Yes, it’s fucking inappropriate. “I think it’s safe to assume all envoys are guilty of spying, Liaison Kitik,” she said, hoping that he picked up on her implication of his own guilt. “So, that’s irrelevant. But any other crimes committed by an envoy would result in expulsion, not prolonged detainment or any other punishment.”
“I see.” He spoke to Belloc. “What will happen if I refuse?”
“I will return to Asteria Colony with Genevieve O’Riordan.”
“But, what would your leaders do?”
“I h
ave no idea. Would you like to find out?”
The Tikati lifted its cloth-wrapped hand. “No, we do not wish to provoke those who, we hope, will soon be our allies. Wait here, and I will release the Glin into your custody. We can deal with him in the future.”
The Tikati left them standing in the rain.
J’ni moved beside Belloc. Up close, she could see several dents and dim spots on the back of his glowing spacesuit.
“So.” She left the word hanging in the narrow space between them.
“You left without telling me.” There was concern, and a slight rebuke, in his voice.
“I had to.”
“I know.” The two words were heavy with understanding.
There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but explanations would have to wait. All she could think about was seeing Duin again. Alive. J’ni did not dare to believe that it would be this easy.
They waited for almost twenty minutes before Kitik reappeared, leading Duin out of the building. It took every ounce of control she had not to run to Duin and hold him in her arms. His wallump suit was gone and he wore a hastily wrapped bava. His hands were covered in bandages thick with dried blood, and he was barefoot. He took several steps onto the platform, saw J’ni, and collapsed. Kitik stood by and watched Duin hit the wet ground.
“Get on the ship,” Belloc said to J’ni. His voice was quiet and calm, but firm.
J’ni dropped the pitat leaf and climbed aboard. She watched through the doorway as Belloc went to Duin and bent over him.
“Envoy Duin? Envoy Duin?” Belloc looked up at Kitik. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s not been well,” said the Tikati.
Duin opened his eyelids but his eyes were white. He spoke in Glinnish. “Who are you? I thought I saw—”
“Can you walk, Envoy Duin?” Belloc interrupted in English, and helped him to his feet.
Duin looked confused, but he leaned on Belloc and staggered toward the ship. As J’ni climbed into the co-pilot’s seat, she heard Duin ask, “What in the Great Ocean is going on?”
Belloc didn’t answer until they were on board and the door closed between them and the Tikati. He carefully lowered Duin into a chair at the rear of the bridge and strapped him in.
“I think the word is rescue,” Belloc said. “Free. Save. Liberate.”
Duin’s face twisted in pain and rage as his bloody hands clutched the helmet covering Belloc’s head. “Belloc, where is J’ni?” he hissed. “I saw her.”
“I’m here, Duin.” She strapped herself into the padded seat so they could leave as quickly as possible. “I am here, my love,” she said in Glinnish.
Belloc sat in the pilot’s seat and prepared for take off.
Duin moaned. “You should have kept her as far away from Glin as possible.”
“It’s not his fault,” she said. “I left Asteria without telling him.”
“I came after her as soon as I could.” Belloc fired the engines and they lifted into the sky.
J’ni wouldn’t dare allow herself to feel a moment of triumph, until they were several thousand miles away.
“What ship is this?” Duin asked. “This isn’t a Tikati ship.”
“No.” Belloc removed his helmet and gloves and stowed them under his seat when they reached the clouds. His dark blue hands danced over the controls of the spacecraft as it angled through the atmosphere.
“When did you learn to fly an Earth ship?” J’ni asked him.
It was Duin’s voice, tired and strained, that answered. “The ships are the same, nagloim. I’ve long suspected your scientists and their ships didn’t disappear by accident, seven years ago. But this proves it.”
Scientists from Earth visited Glin and Tikat, both worlds close to Asteria and part of its binary star system. That was how Duin, via Tucloup, eventually got his translator. But some of the scientists sent to Tikat never returned.
They were out of range of the Asternet, so J’ni couldn’t l’up more info, but she remembered reading about it. “Their ships crashed because of the flaring of Proxima or something like that.”
“No, nagloim, I think the spacecrafts were captured, studied and replicated.”
J’ni was stunned by the thought. “So, if humans had never gone to Tikat, then the Tikati would never have invaded Glin?”
“As you say.” As soon as Belloc activated the ship’s gravity, J’ni got out of her seat and went to Duin. He looked exhausted and haunted. Kneeling in front of him, she unfastened his restraints and he fell forward into her arms, touching her gingerly with his bandaged hands.
“What did they do to you?”
His voice was a whisper. “They put me in a box.”
“A cell?”
“A box. I couldn’t move… I could barely breathe. I can hold my breath a long time, J’ni, but not that long.”
“What happened to your hands?”
“I tried to get out.”
Tears flooded her eyes in an overwhelming torrent of sorrow, sympathy, frustration and anger. Duin kissed her eyes, and her mouth, with the desperation of someone dying of thirst.
“I thought of you, J’ni, and how you slept when you were imprisoned. You slept. So, I tried to sleep, too. But they didn’t like that. That’s when they moved me to the room with the fire.”
“Are you burned?” She pulled at the bava to inspect his skin, but he waved his hand.
“No, no. They wanted to scare me. But you’re not afraid of fire, are you, J’ni?”
“No, I’m not.”
“I thought as much.” He reclined in the seat and shut his eyes.
Rest would help him heal his wounds, but what would heal his mind? She caressed his arm, the gray-green speckled skin cool and smooth, but lacking its usual luster.
Duin started to hum softly. She recognized the tune as the one she’d sung to him when he was in the med-block, after the bombing. She sang it again as Duin fell into a sleep she hoped would not be troubled by dreams of fire, confinement, or Tikati.
“I wish I was in Carrickfergus, where the castle looks out to sea; I would swim over the deepest ocean for my love to be with me. But the sea is wide and I cannot swim over, nor have I the wings to fly. I wish I had a handsome boatman to ferry me over, my love and I.”
She looked at Belloc, her “handsome boatman,” and the tears came again. Not out of pain or frustration, but gratitude. J’ni got up and went to the pilot’s seat.
“What would we do without you?” She hugged his shoulders and brushed a grateful kiss against the side of his head. “I know you don’t like me to thank you, but thank you. For coming to get us. The diplomatic immunity idea was brilliant.”
He didn’t reply. She crouched down so she could look up into Belloc’s face. He looked so forlorn, like something was broken within him. “What’s wrong?”
He answered her in Glinnish. “I didn’t know anything about ‘diplomatic immunity.’ I asked for Duin, but I never thought they’d let him go. You’re the one who tricked Kitik. I don’t deserve your praise.”
She blinked, and tears slipped down her cheeks. He looked at her, looked into her. His pain arced through the air between them and stunned her, just as she had felt his terror the first time their eyes met on Wandalin.
Cupping her chin in his hand, he lifted her face and looked into her eyes. “I came for you,” he said in her language. “You are the only reason I’m alive, J’ni. And the only reason I’m not alone. You are everything to me.”
“You’re not alone.” She removed his hand from her chin and squeezed it.
He didn’t move, and when Belloc didn’t move he didn’t fidget, his eyes didn’t shift, his fingers didn’t twitch. He didn’t even appear to breathe. But his lips parted and he spoke. “I never told you how my mother died. She died in a Tikati prison ship, before the Finders discovered us and took us to Meglin.”
“Did the Tikati…?” J’ni left the question unfinished.
He understood what she did
n’t say. “No. They didn’t kill her, not with any weapon. But she was too weak to survive the voyage. She was sick. All my life, I think, she’d been dying, only living for me. She had suffered some great loss, something that frightened her deeply, after I was born. I never knew what it was, but we were running from it all my life. I didn’t grow up in a village like Duin’s Willup W’Kuay. There are no hunts or singing circles or hut building in my memories.”
It was as if a dam had broken within him and words spilled out. Belloc was a watcher, a listener. He had never spoken to J’ni about his past before.
“My mother was the only family I had. She kept us apart from others, and she kept herself apart even from me. I knew very little about her. I learned more about you in two months than I learned about her in twenty-one years. Before she died, she told me I was born in a silver lake, but I’ve never seen it. I called her Hadi, but her real name was Vindael Nidenn. Now you know it, too. I want you to know. And I have another name, too. Kehlen Nidenn.”
She repeated the name, and his eyes turned white.
“No one’s ever called me by that name. It’s as much a stranger to me as any father, or silver lake, or kindness, before I met you.”
He reached as if he might touch her hair, then seemed to change his mind and touched the control panel instead. After a time, his eyes cleared, but he spoke no more. J’ni moved out of his way so he could continue flying the ship. She checked on Duin, who was still asleep, and strapped him in. Strapping herself into the seat beside Belloc, she asked if he would turn off the false gravity. It was giving her a headache.
She began composing a blog post about her recent experiences on Glin and when they were in range of Asteria, she sent it on ahead of them. J’ni also sent her vids of the Tikati compound, with accurate translations of the interviews. In response to Duin’s torture, she suggested immediate UN sanctions against Tikat, intervention by Amnesty, and support for the Glin insurgency. But she left out the part about him being caught in the middle of an arms deal.
That’s when Belloc spoke again, as if there were no lag in the conversation.
“Duin acts as if every Glin shared his strength and his decency. But they don’t. Even you know that, J’ni. You have lived among them, and you’ve seen them as they truly are. He sees the Glin in the reflection of his own spirit, but he is the best of them. Believe me. I have seen the worst.”
