Looking at the vender sideways, Vo asked him in Nuk. ‘Do you have any Dinuda?’
The vendor frowned so Vo-nam spoke in the Earth tongue again.
The Di-Nuk nodded. ‘No, what about sweet chilli? It’s good.’
‘Thank you, yes.’ Vo-nam glanced at his wife. Did that mean this Di-Nuk had never tasted Dinuda sauce? he thought. Ignoring his look, Li-pen paid for the food, and they stood to the side to eat it. Li-pen’s gaze tracked the movements of the vendor as he served other customers. There was nowhere to sit and as Li-pen seemed as curious as he was to learn more of the strange speaking Di-Nuk, they loitered nearby, waiting for an opportunity to engage him in conversation again.
‘So do you live around here?’ Li-pen asked, when she caught the vendor’s eye.
The vendor began cleaning the bench inside his window. ‘Not far from here.’
‘So you live in the tourist zone?’ Vo asked, excited by the prospect.
‘No, not really. No.’
‘So you have a work visa?’ Vo asked.
The vendor’s eyes arrowed around the courtyard and he began packing things away. ‘I have a visa but technically I’m not meant to sell produce here in the tourist zone. I don’t usually but I heard there was a ship in and I thought I might attract some of the tourist crowd.’
‘So you are Di-Nuk like us but you speak differently. Why is that?’
The vendor looked uncomfortable. He leant out of the window saw there was no other customers and undid the lever that held the window shutter up. ‘Sorry. I’ve got to head off now. Nice meeting you.’
Vo-nam stepped forward and held the shutter open. ‘Please talk to us. We really want to know and we won’t tell anyone else if it bothers you.’
‘I can’t say, truly. It’s difficult.’
Li-pen swallowed the last of her meat and bread. ‘You were brought up on Earth, weren’t you? That is why you speak like that, why you can’t speak Nuk well at all.’
Vo-nam gaped at his wife and the vendor. ‘Is that true? How could that be? I thought none of the hybrids were brought to Earth.’
The food vendor’s hand was on the shutter ready to jerk in down. ‘I said I can’t talk about it.’
‘So it is true? Will you be here tomorrow? Can we talk to you again?’ Vo-Nam asked politely, bowing his head to show humility. His tail lowered and swept the ground from side to side with slow grace.
‘Sure. I’ll be here around sunset.’
Vo-nam let his hand drop and the shutter closed with a clang. Soon after the vehicle powered up and lumbered out of the courtyard.
Vo walked with Li-pen to their hotel in the Austen complex. A group of people in Regency dress walked past them, laughing and chatting gaily. Vo frowned, finding he did not like the historic trappings of Bath. He wanted to see the real homeworld as it was now.
That night while he slept he thought up a plan. No more guided tours. He would sneak out and take a look at what they hide from the tourists. It was easy to exit the hotel before dawn without being noticed. There were nothing but cleaning bots and a sleepy receptionist in the foyer.
Vo-nam had left his wife asleep, hoping to be back before she woke up. It appeared she was able to survive on tea and toast. He found he needed much more meat than was on offer and wanted to make sure he got something more substantial to eat. Yet the hotel charged a lot of money for any kind of meat. It was either scarce or the owners were vegetarians and were eager to push their creed onto others.
The sun was not quite up and the street lights were still shining when he made it out onto the road. No people were about as far as he could see. He chose a street at random and walked down it. As the sky grew brighter, he thought that the edge of town might appeal. Perhaps he would find some trees, some wildlife (food) or least some real people going about their early morning business.
The empty streets and houses made him edgy. He supposed there were people in the houses and apartments but he was not convinced. Yet why would they be uninhabited? The air felt clean, the town was pleasant in an odd, historical kind of way. Why did he get the sense that he was alone? The scents too were stale, like people had passed this way once, long ago and never returned.
At the edge of town, a park called Hampton Down segued into pasture. There were a few sheep there, standing still on a slope. A small pond had ducks floating on it, an occasional quack audible. There was even a rabbit dashing in and out of a burrow, its cotton tail dancing tantalisingly. Soft undulating hills further on had sheep on them too.
Vo-nam found the scene quite pleasing until he heard voices. Suddenly he felt guilty, realising that perhaps he was where he should not be. Looking around for a place to hide, he found a stone monument and placed himself behind it. The monument commemorated something called Bath Golf Course, 1880 -2050. His pelt matched the colour of the stone so he felt sure he blended in. While he watched, two humans came into view, males he thought they were, and each was holding an end of a sheep. Vo tried hear what they were saying but they were talking so fast, he found it hard to catch the words.
They positioned the sheep, opened the side of it up and tinkered with its insides before shutting what looked like a panel. Then one man went to the head and tilted it back as if it was connected by hinge. ‘Ahhh, here it is,’ the workman said in a slow, drawling way. ‘Short circuit.’ The other man’s reply was muffled as he was bent over wiping the hooves of the sheep with a dusting cloth. Then the dialogue between them became incomprehensible again. They spoke in some kind of rhyme and half sentences. Some words he could catch but the meaning was lost on him. Closing up the sheep, the men walked away, still bantering with each other and laughing occasionally. Vo-nam ducked down to avoid being seen as the workman walked away. As the sound of the conversation faded, Vo-nam put his head around the monument and peeked out.
The sheep bleated once and then moved slightly, giving the impression of life. Vo-nam felt suddenly ill. Next, he found himself gasping for breath, heart palpitating painfully. What did that mean? It couldn’t be a live animal. His mind was working furiously, re-jigging all of his impressions and thoughts of Earth with those of his earlier expectations and beliefs. They did not marry up well at all. If the sheep were fake, what else? After the workmen disappeared from view, he crept over to the pasture and touched it. Going down on all fours, he sniffed it and then tasted it. Fake. It was some kind of resin, not real grass.
Still disbelieving he then padded up to the pond. The ducks did not react to his presence. He squatted down, watched them, listened for the quacks. There! The sound but no beaks moved. Sniffing, he found no scents. The pond smelt too fresh and chemical. The rabbit moved again, sprinting from its burrow. Vo-nam growled at it. The rabbit didn’t even flinch. He watched it further and saw that it too, was following some predetermined routine.
This was beyond belief. He could understand the replica monuments and even the re-enactments with menus and period dress—but the animals and the vegetation? What had happened to the homeworld his great grandfather Luis had told him about and the books which backed up those tales?
He found his head swimming. Facts and fiction were stitched together like some sick tapestry. It was hard to take in. His homeworld was a fake. A replica. A façade. Lo, a tourist trap. Vo-nam sprawled in the grass, struggling to control his feelings, to compartmentalise his pain, his anger, his disappointment. The sun was well up by the time he decided to head back to the hotel.
Li-Pen was eating toast and jam when he entered the room. She looked up as he slammed the door behind him. ‘Lo, good morning, husband. I have ordered eggs for you. It was the best I could do on our budget. Where have you been?’
He nodded. ‘Out,’ he replied and sat down to stare at his plate. He did not know how to tell her how he felt about what he had seen. He did not know if she would understand. He had dragged her here to this fake homeworld. It was his fault, his responsibility.
‘Are you going to
eat that? If not, I am still hungry.’ Li-Pen said, fork poised to spear a mound of scrambled egg.
Coming out of his reverie, he growled low in his throat, which translated to ‘my food, back off.’
Li-Pen laughed and reclined back on the bed. ‘Lo, that is more like it. So tell me what did you see or do that upset your appetite?’
He tried to explain to Li-Pen what he saw. She nodded and scrunched up her nose, a Nuk characteristic for puzzlement. ‘So the sheep are fake? It is a tourist zone so I suppose none of it would be real.’
‘What about the grass? It is fake too. Why would anyone fake vegetation unless it is all gone.’
Li-pen got up and began to brush her coat with vigorous, sharp strokes. ‘You are making a big deal out of nothing. I agree it is a puzzle but ...not...a conspiracy.’ She continued her grooming and after a few minutes asked brightly, ‘So what should we do today?’ She looked in the mirror as she ruffled her coat with her fingers to make a random pattern.
‘The immigration office opens at eight,’ he replied, grinning.
She turned to look at him and shook her head. ‘Not today, Vo. I cannot face arguing with bureaucracy. Maybe tomorrow. Mmmm?’ She frowned and bared her teeth.
Vo-nam nodded. There was no point in arguing with her. He knew that look. At that moment too, he wondered if he really wanted to stay, now that he knew. But what choice did he have? He did not belong on Dianur. He was not one of them.
So they readied themselves for more tourist adventures, with Li-Pen at least agreeing to see the Earth-raised Di-Nuk at sunset. After returning from viewing a dome with standing stones in it and the facade of Salisbury Cathedral, they snuck out of the hotel again, avoiding the questions from the concierge.
There were many people around the vending vans when they arrived. Vo-nam hung back waiting for the last of the customers to slip into the growing shadows. A few of the other vendors closed up shop and trundled out of the courtyard on noisy motors. Most of the customers were human tourists, getting a thrill from buying real meat at affordable prices. From overhearing the various conversations, these humans were from off world and enjoying visiting the homeworld too. Vo did his best not to envy their humanness.
The Di-Nuk lowered the shutter. Vo-Nam’s ears pricked up. Was he leaving? But then he heard the whispered call from behind the van. Li-Pen and Vo-nam headed around the back of the vehicle to see him. The Di-Nuk was short and his tail was pushed into his human clothes. Through his open shirt, Vo could seen several surgical scars.
‘What is your name?’ Vo asked, completely mesmerised by what he was seeing. The Di-Nuk’s gait was slightly off and his mannerisms were almost completely human. The Di-Nuk smiled like a human, his teeth square. Were they filed? thought Vo-nam.
‘Round here they call me Petey.’
‘You have a human name?’ Li-Pen asked. ‘What about your clan?’
Petey shrugged, using the human gesture. ‘Don’t know who my clan are. Don’t know who my kin are. I’m an orphan.’
Vo-nam tried not to think of the possibilities that were denied him because he had a living uncle and had stayed on Dianur. He had been orphaned and could have been brought up on Earth like this Di-Nuk.
‘So tell us then. What do robot sheep mean?’ Vo-Nam asked, surprised he had taken on his wife’s outspoken characteristics. Why had he not beaten around the forest to scare out the game, as the saying went on Dianur.
‘You saw?’ The Di-Nuk nodded and scratched his chin. Another human gesture. It made Vo’s stomach turn and he shook himself, realising that this is what pure Nuk must feel when they looked at him. A parody of a Nuk. It was not a happy realisation. ‘It’s all fake.’
Li-Pen had been eying Petey with curiosity. ‘Where do you live, Petey?’
Petey looked around assuring himself that they were alone. ‘I live in the enclaves near here. Technically, I don’t have a license to sell food in the zone but competition is tough for the likes of me.’
‘What do you mean? Are you discriminated against?’ The fur on the back of Vo’s neck bristled with indignation.
Petey jumped back, scenting Vo’so anger, his own fur standing up.
‘I never said that. Prices are tough. C...c...competition is intense. And tourists spend more money.’ His voice came out high-pitched.
Li-Pen put her hand on Petey’s shoulder, meaning to comfort him. He jumped back as if she had hit him and cowered against the van. ‘Don’t hurt me please.’
Li-Pen’s mouth dropped open and she gaped at Vo-Nam. ‘We mean you no harm, Petey. We offer only friendship. Forgive us if we offended you.’ Vo-nam said bowing, apologising for his wife’s affront.
Petey peered out through his crossed elbows, which he’d used to protect himself. ‘You want to be friends?’
‘Yes, of course. You are like us. We know what it is like to be Di-Nuk.’
Petey dropped his arms away from his head. ‘You do?’ He stood there staring at them in turn, then shrugged human style and climbed into the van.
‘Well, see you around then. I have to head home now.’
Before Vo-nam or Li-Pen could speak, he fired up the van and drove away.
‘Li?’ Vo turned to his wife, wondering what she thought.
‘Very odd behaviour. Let’s go back to the hotel.’ She turned around and started walking away.
Vo-nam twitched his tail. ‘No. I will follow him.’
Li-Pen paused. ‘What? Why?’
‘Because I want to know what is going on. I want to see the real Earth, not this fabrication that has been foisted on me.’
Li-Pen’s tail curled around her left foot. ‘Vo, really...forget it.’
Vo-Nam’s tail twitched faster. ‘I cannot. You may accompany me or not.’
Li-Pen watched him for a moment and then shifted her gaze to the retreating van. ‘Race you,’ she said with a smile. Then she bounded off after the van, on all fours like a Nuk cub.
Vo lost precious time gaping at her behaviour. On Dianur she would not have behaved so, not without shame. Vo trotted after her, using his human gait. She was fast but he would not stoop to grovelling along the ground like an unsophisticated child. After a few minutes, he switched to his native gait and then when it became clear that he would lose them, he dropped to the ground and bounded after them. After a few minutes, he got a stitch in his side and slowed down.
The van puttered along the deserted streets and then disappeared from view. Vo paused trying to see where his wife had gone. Then he inhaled deeply catching her scent. He caught up to her, as she was standing in the shadow of a street lamp. Vo-nam smoothed the hair on his head and scratched under his sweaty arm. ‘Gone?’
Li-Pen put her hand on his arm. ‘Wait. He is going there to that building. See?’
Vo peered into the dark, his night vision not as acute as his wife’s. Then he saw it, a Di-Nuk-shaped patch of dark in front of the building. The door opened and Petey slipped inside.
Vo squinted. ‘Didn’t he say he was living nearby but that building is in the zone.’
Li-Pen loped away and Vo was hard pressed to keep up with her. As she opened the door, he arrived too. Behind it was another door with what looked like a visa card reader controlling it. A sign above listed the classes of visa permitted to enter.
Li-Pen ferreted about for her visa card, separating it from his. ‘Mine should work.’ It did. Vo-nam knew his visa card wouldn’t operate the door. His was not one of the listed visa classes.
‘Wait here. I’ll go and see.’ She went to step through and, suddenly desperate, he flung himself through with her, tumbling them down a long flight of steps. An alarm sounded as he landed. Li-Pen pushed herself up and shook her head, dazed but unhurt.
‘Run!’ she said. ‘Now,’ she added when he did not move.
Vo-Nam wasted no time and sped off. He thought she was following him but when he checked over his shoulder she had not. Had she run in the other dire
ction? It was too late to turn back. He would get caught by whoever came to investigate the alarm.
His pace slowed as his panic lessened. Vo tried to take in his surroundings. He had run mindlessly down a corridor and turned in random places. As he gathered his senses, the smell hit him—a thick, offal smell, mixed with sweat and filth. It staggered him.
Holding his arm over his face, he came out into a larger space lined with balconies. Here the voices and the sounds intruded and intertwined with the stench. He kept running, not feeling safe in these alien surroundings. There was no air, no natural light. He was underground. There were people in here, crammed in, flowing over the balconies, dropping their waste, their food scraps. Some hit him as he ran and he wiped at the detritus, desiring to stop and clean his pelt. How he hated to be dirty.
He found a corner and sunk into it, keeping his eyes to the thoroughfare. Breathing through his mouth, he panted, letting his heart slow its excited beat. He tried to groom his pelt but it was no use. Only a complete soak would restore it. Forgetting about his personal hygiene, he looked up and surveyed his position. There were creatures here all around him. They looked misshapen, inhuman and dirty. They talked, though, and he could understand them. Their clothes were rags and they carried bundles, shuffling to a conveyer belt to place them down. Vo’s gaze assessed the space and the people. The smell took on a new dimension, overlayed with a sickly sweet smell. It made it easier to breathe but he wondered what it was. No one had noticed him yet. What would happen if they did, would they turn him in? What punishment awaited him? Would they send him home? Well they had already decided that his stay was short. What more could they do? That thought allowed him to relax.
After he caught his breath, he climbed to his feet and went up to one of the beings. ‘Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me where I am?’
The being ignored him and shouldered him out of the way. ‘Please speak to me,’ he pleaded to its back.
He turned to the next one and the next and all of them acted like he was not there. Then at last, a tall, rangy being came forward.’ Your kind is not welcome here. This space if for Laots.’
Beneath the Floating City collection Page 4
