Galaxy's Edge Magazine: Issue 2: May 2013
Page 26
No, sex and love are basically independent of each other. Not that it matters for me, not anymore. My closest friends are dead, and those here on Mictlan that I thought were friends won’t talk to me at all anymore.
No more sex. No more love. I spend my remaining days with the only passion I have left, the only passion allowed me: the cold and dead Miccail.
Now if sex, love, and passion are intricate, varied, and dangerous for us, then the sexuality of the Miccail must have been positively labyrinthian. I can only imagine how convoluted their relationships were, with the midmale sex complicating things. I wonder how they loved, and I try to decipher the answer from the few clues left: the stelae, the crumbling ruins, the ancient artifacts. I wonder why this world saw fit to add another sex into the biological mix, but the past holds its secrets too well.
What frightens me is that I’m certain it’s important for us to know. The Miccail died only a thousand years ago. With all the artifacts, all the structures they left behind, none of them we’ve found are any younger than that. From what I’ve been able to determine, the collapse and decline of the Miccail began another thousand years before their extinction, possibly linked with the rapid disappearance of the midmales, all mention of whom vanish from the stelae at that point. One short millennium later—barely a breath in the life of the world and the Miccail’s own long history—and the Miccail were gone, every last one.
It’s almost as if Something didn’t like them.
And now we’re here, filling our lungs and our bodies with Mictlan-stuff. Yes, we sampled and tested Mictlan’s air, water and soil, let it flow through the assorted filters and gauges until the machines stamped the world with their cold imprimatur. The proportion of gases was within our body tolerances. We could taste the winds of this world and live. Our lungs would move, the oxygen would flow in our blood. But Mictlan is not Earth. The atmosphere of a world holds its own life, and life moves within it.
So we take a deep breath of Mictlan and we bring the alien presence into our lungs because we have no choice. We will slowly become Mictlan. Mictlan will become us.
And the Something that obliterated the Miccail will take a long look at us: because we are here, because we breathe, because we drink the water and eat the plants.
I wonder if that Something will like us better than it did the Miccail.
.
INTERLUDE: KaiSa
After leaving MasTa, Kai had gone directly to ker rooms in the TeTa house and packed the few belongings which were truly kers into ker traveling pouch: the well-used grinding stones for herbs and potions which JaqSa had given ker as a parting gift the first time ke’d left the sacred Sa island called AnglSaiye; the parchment book of medicines, written in the private language of the Sa with the sacred inks only the Sa knew how to make; the relic of VeiSaTi which was ker authorization to move freely outside the island; the tools of sacrifice. Ke left behind the fine anklet BieTe had carved for ker from redstone, with crystalline images of BieTe and MasTa’s sacred animals set in the swirling, ornate patterns. Keeping the jewelry would only remind ker of Bie and Mas, and of the children ke had helped to sire here.
It was painful enough to leave. It was even more painful to have to remember.
Kai shouldered ker pack and pushed open the door. A hand pushed ker back inside: NosXe, one of BieTe’s adopted sons. Kai stumbled and fell backward, striking ker left shoulder hard on the flagstone floor. “My father said you would try to leave,” Nos grumbled. “You don’t know how much BieTe and MasTa care for you, KaiSa.”
“I know all too well, Nos,” Kai answered. “And if I didn’t love them in return, I wouldn’t be leaving now. Cycles from now, if you become Te, you will understand that. Tell me, Nos, did BieTe or MasTa send you here?”
NosXe didn’t have to answer; the grim stubbornness on his face told Kai that the young son of Bie had acted on his own. Kai rubbed ker sore shoulder, knowing it would shame Nos even more to see that he had injured a Sa.
“I thought not. Your Ta and Te know that it’s the curse of Sa to always travel, to leave those they love most. Your Ta and Te know that no matter how much they would like me to stay, I cannot. And they cannot make me stay, not without raising the wrath of VeiSaTi Kerself. Is that what you’re willing to risk, Nos? Are you willing to defy a god?”
Always before, that had worked. It was the threat of VeiSaTi’s anger that kept all Sa safe. Kai thought that the warning, a doctrine taught to all of the CieTiLa—The People—from childhood, had worked now. Still rubbing ker shoulder, ke got to ker feet and started to walk out past the grim-faced Nos, who still blocked the doorway. But as ke brushed past, Nos reached out with a hand and grabbed Kai’s shoulder with his right hand, his talons slightly extended.
“No,” Nos started to say, but Kai had already reacted.
Kai slapped ker left hand on top of Nos’, claws out. At the same time, ke turned ker hip back and brought ker right arm on top of Nos’, dropping ker weight. Cloth tore on Kai’s shoulder, but Nos howled in pain as his wrist was torqued. The much larger Xe collapsed to his knees to escape the pressure, and Kai completed the pin, taking the struggling Nos down to the floor. Holding Nos’ wrist with one hand, ke reached out with ker long fingers and pressed them on either side of Nos’ neck, just below the ears—closing the arteries. Nos’ struggles became weaker; a few seconds later, he went limp.
Kai released the pin. Ke checked to make sure that Nos was still breathing, then stood. “The Sa are also taught to protect those they love,” Kai told the unconscious Nos. “That is another thing you must learn. What you love most is also the most dangerous to you.”
Ke stepped over Nos. Ke found that now that it was over, ke was shaking from the sudden encounter. The settlement of BieTe and MasTa, which had once seemed so peaceful and welcoming, now frightened ker.
Ke walked away, almost at a run.
BieTe had started the ceremonial fire on the bluff over-looking the sea. KaiSa could see the smear of dark smoke against the twilight sky and the silhouetted figures of BieTe’s people as they moved in the preliminary dance of welcome to the new infant. But Kai saw them only in the distance.
Ke moved quickly from the settlement into the woods. A few of the Je and Ja saw ker, but—under the bonds of servitude and at the bottom of the social structure of the CieTiLa—there was no chance that any of them would, like NosXe, challenge Kai’s right to go where ke wanted, whenever ke wanted. One of the Ja watched as ke moved away from the cluster of wood and stone buildings; Kai knew that the word would get to BieTe, either from the Ja or from NosXe, as soon as he returned to the ceremony, but by that time it would be too late.
I’m sorry that it had to be this way, Kai told the distant image of the fire. BieTe, MasTa, I’m sorry to miss the ceremony for my own daughter, but in your hearts, you understand. You must understand, You know the laws as well as I do. A Sa must give ker Gift to all CieTiLa, and that means I must hurt the two of you,
It means I must hurt myself.
KaiSa put ker back to the fire, to BieTe and MasTa, and to ker daughters and sons, and moved into the forest.
Under the canopy of sweet-leaves, the twilight quickly shifted to full night. The wind was from the west, shivering the leaves with its chill and bringing the scent of flowers. A wingclaw called from its night roost high in one of the trees, the creature’s ululating whoop raising the hairs on Kai’s arms. The phosphorescent mosses on the many-trunked trees framed the darkness, and the double moons were up, Chali just setting, though Quali was well above the horizon in the east, bright enough that ke could almost see the colors of the leaves. The sound of ker feet shushing through the fallen leaves seemed the loudest sound, though the rhythmic kuh-whump of the slickskins calling for their mates in a nearby pond was a constant backdrop.
It was tempting to stop, to try and listen to the voice of VeiSaTi in the rustling and chirping of the world, but there was no time for that now.
Kai knew that there was a wayhous
e not far distant. Until ke had actually made the decision to leave, ke had given no thought to where ke might go next. Now, ke determined to stop for the rest of the night at the wayhouse. Ke lengthened ker stride, falling into ker quick walking pace.
When Quali had reached the zenith, its silver light painting the edges of the leaves, Kai came upon the High Road and the wayhouse. The High Road was the main artery through the CieTiLa lands, a trail of flagged stone, a path between all the settlements of the CieTiLa designed by the legendary Sa leader NasiSaTu over six terduva ago, and completed by ker successors after NasiSaTu’s sacrificial death. The various segments of the road were maintained by the Te and Ta of the lands through which they passed, part of the payment for the services of the mendicant Sa order.
The nasituda set in front of the wayhouse declared it to be on the border of the territory of GaiTe and CiTa. For the first time since ke had left, Kai felt ker muscles relax fully, releasing a tension ke hadn’t even known ke’d been holding. A light from an oil lamp glimmered behind the translucent window, made from the brais of one of the huge but slow thunderbeasts: someone else was already in the wayhouse. Kai gave a low, warbling call of greeting as ke approached the building, waited the polite sequence of sixteen slow breaths, then entered, brushing aside the thunderbeast hide door covering.
The wayhouse was built along typical CieTiLa lines: a large common room where travelers could talk and eat; a small kitchen to the left for food preparation and storage, and three tiny sleeping cubicles to the right. The privacy curtain was drawn on one of those, and a Sa poked ker head out as Kai entered, rubbing ker eyes sleepily.
“Kai?”
“AbriSa!”
Abri tumbled out of the low sleeping cubicle and ran to Kai. The two Sa embraced, laughing. Kai had come to the island some time after Abri’s arrival, and the older youth had been one of Kai’s mentors, comforting the disoriented and frightened child of three cycles and helping to teach Kai the intricate structure of Sa life. It was Abri who, when Kai had taken First Vows, had taken an inked needle to Kai’s chest and marked ker with the symbol of AnglSaiye. Kai’s debt to Abri had been paid long ago, when Kai had kerself taken one of the arriving children as ker special project, passing along the knowledge Abri had given ker. Abri had left the AnglSaiye sanctuary long before Kai had been given JaqSaTu’s blessing and ker own sanction to begin ker travels through the CieTiLa lands. Kai held Abri at arm’s length, looking at ker. Ke could see the cycles and the pain of many separations in ker face, in the flesh-hewn valleys of experience VeiSaTi had etched there.
“Where are you traveling to, Abri?” Kai asked when they finally pulled apart. Where are you going? Where have you been? Those were the eternal questions of Sa meeting on the road.
“Actually, I was looking for you, among others.”
“For me? You’re joking. Why?”
Abri didn’t answer. Instead, ke pulled away from Kai, and the furrows in ker face deepened as ke frowned. “Let me fix some kav. You looked tired,” ke said.
Kai watched Abri as ke went into the kitchen and poured the bittersweet, herbal brew into two wooden mugs. “I’ve been on the island for the past two cycles,” ke said as ke placed the pottery jug back into the coldbox sunk into the kitchen’s floor. Ke brought the mugs out and handed one to Kai. Ke sipped carefully—“once for TeTa, again for XeXa, and last for Jeja,” three being the sacred number of VeiSaTi—then sank down onto one of the large pillows at the edge of the eating pit. “There have been disturbing rumors, Kai,” ke said finally. “I’m just one of several who have been sent out by JaqSaTu to bring all Sa back to the island.”
The words sent the kav swirling, almost spilling from the mug as Kai started. To bring all the Sa back to AnglSaiye, bring all of us back from our journeys.…It was something that had never been done before, in all the cycles upon cycles written down on the nasitudas set on AnglSaiye’s shores. It was something Kai could very nearly not comprehend. “I don’t understand…”
“You will, when you get back there.” Abri sipped ker kav once more, staring into the brown depths of the mug. “I really can’t say more, except to say that it is becoming a dangerous world for Sa.”
Kai, remembering BieTe and MasTa, and ker departure of only a few hours ago, opened hard-ridged lips in a grin. “Love is always dangerous, AbriSa. I have the bruises to prove it.”
But Abri didn’t share in the jest. Abri’s dark, expressive eyes regarded Kai’s, and there was pain in ker gaze.
“This is different, Kai,” ke said. “This is something no Sa has faced before.”
END OF EXCERPT
Dark Water’s Embrace copyright © 1998, 2009 Stephen Leigh. All rights reserved. This book may not be copied or reproduced, in whole or in part, by any means, electronic, mechanical or otherwise without written permission from the publisher except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
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SERIALIZATION:
Dark Universe
(Continued from Issue One)
DARK UNIVERSE
by Daniel Galouye
Phoenix Pick, 2010
Trade Paperback: 182 pages. Kindle, Nook, More
ISBN: 978-1-60450-487-3
Dark Universe Copyright © 1961 Daniel F. Galouye. All rights reserved. This book may not be copied or reproduced, in whole or in part, by any means, electronic, mechanical or otherwise without written permission from the publisher except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Excerpt is reprinted here by permission of the Publisher and the Estate’s literary agent.
Dark Universe
(Continued from Issue One)
CHAPTER SIX
“...We therefore humbly invoke the guidance of Light Almighty as we rededicate ourselves under new leadership.”
Survivor Averyman, as Senior Elder, was bringing his speech to a close. He paused and listened out over the Assembly.
Standing behind him, Jared too heard the silence, relieved only by the soft flow of many tense breaths. It was an anxious stillness, rather than one that bore respect for the Investiture Ceremonies.
Nor could he himself muster much attention for the Elder’s words. His thoughts were overburdened with bitterness. It wasn’t as much that Light had broken the covenant as it was that He had decided on so ruthless a means of making that fact clear.
That the Prime Survivor was gone forever from the worlds of man was, for Jared, a tragedy. On several occasions over the past two periods he would have gone charging defiantly up the passageway had it not been for the remote possibility that the loss of his father was only temporary, to test the sincerity of his repentance. A more practical reason he hadn’t tried to track down the monster was that Protectors had been stationed at the entrance.
He sneezed and sniffled, evoking a disdainful pause in Survivor Averyman’s speech. After a moment, the Elder resumed:
“We must not expect from our new Prime Survivor the forehearing and wisdom that we came to associate with his late father. For what could compare with an understanding deep enough to hear ahead to the imminent necessity of preparing his successor?”
Jared listened impatiently over toward the guarded entrance. There was yet another reason he couldn’t go plunging beyond the Barrier in search of his father. That would only call the wrath of the Elders down on his head and they would make Romel the Prime Survivor—a development which could bring only chaos to the world.
Someone nudged him forward and he found himself standing in front of the Guardian of the Way.
“Repeat after me,” Philar said solemnly, “‘I swear that I will bend all effort to the Challenge of Survival, not only for myself but in behalf of every individual in the Lower Level.�
��”
Struggling through the vow, Jared interrupted his flow of words with a sniffle.
“‘I dedicate myself,’” the Guardian went on, “‘to the needs of all who depend upon me and I will do whatever I can to draw aside the Curtain of Darkness—so help me Light!’”
Jared punctuated the final word with a sneeze.
Investiture over, he remained in front of the Official Grotto receiving perfunctory handshakes.
Romel was the last to approach. “Now the fun begins,” he said facetiously. The words were not as relaxed as they might have been, though, and they offered no clue as to what expression was silenced by the obscuring veil of hair.
“I’ll need a lot of help,” Jared admitted. “It won’t be easy.”
“I didn’t think it would.” Romel wasn’t successfully concealing his envy. “Of course, the first thing will be to finish the hearing.”
Interrupted by Investiture, the hearing wasn’t Jared’s concern, however. It was being conducted by the Elders, who were even now filing back into the Official Grotto. And there was no doubt that its mention had been subtly intended to lead to something else. For a moment Jared could almost hear the familiar hiss of the swish-rope.
“Do you suppose,” Romel continued, unnecessarily loud, “that the monster that got the Prime Survivor was anything like the one you heard in the Original World?”
There it was—the tightening of the coils around his ankles. Romel wasn’t going to let anyone forget Jared had violated the Barrier taboo. Slack was being taken on the rope. The violent tug would come later.
“I wouldn’t know,” he rapped out, following the last of the witnesses into the Official Grotto.
A portable caster had been set in operation and Jared, taking his place at the meeting slab, concentrated on its clicks as modified by the persons in the recess. All the Elders were in their places while the witnesses were grouped off to one side.