by Nōnen Títi
“Are you coming?” Harmon asked.
Kunag followed him into Frimon’s home, where the uneasy feeling returned until he saw that it was just a normal home, neat and quiet. Harmon took out his writing pack to make this a proper interview, but he had only just started when a boy of about thirteen, with dark eyes and long black curls, came in. Kunag recognized him from SJilai: The son of the ruler of the underworld. He could only just stifle a giggle and bent far over his pack. Maybe he should draw people hugging. How else could he explain the speech?
The interview continued. Normally, Kunag had no problem with people watching him work, but he wasn’t sure what to draw and too aware of the quiet boy who watched him from the edge of his father’s seat.
When Harmon finally finished, Kunag still didn’t have anything for the bulletin.
Once at home, Kunag took a piece of his precious real paper – all he’d been able to rescue from the flood was about a set of sheets and his artpack with his utensils – to try and recreate the gathering, but his pencil went off on its own. What came out was a portrait of Rorag.
“Are you ever going to turn off that lamp?” Jari demanded from the mat by the other wall.
“What’s it to you? Since when do you have to get up early to go somewhere?”
The oil-lamp hung from the ceiling between the mats. It had no more cover since the storm and the light flickered a lot, which made Jari’s shadow dance on the wall as she stepped toward it.
Kunag, who had expected her to simply turn it off, only just avoided being hit on the head by the lamp, which crashed against the wall behind him. In the dark he could feel oil dripping onto his mat and down the back of his shirt. In an impulse he jumped at his sister, but stopped short when she covered her head with her arms. Shocked by his own anger, he swung around, snatched up his drawing and artpack, and left the room.
“Kunag, is that you?”
Kunag didn’t answer Mom’s call; he stepped with bare feet into his boots, grabbed his coat, and walked out the door.
Outside it was lighter. He walked towards Sinti’s home, mostly to let the cold air calm him, and frowned into the dark. Would he have hit Jari? She had believed so.
Sinti shared her home with two other girls, so he couldn’t just walk in. He called her name near the window, hoping he didn’t wake up the wrong person. When no response came he kicked some dirt into a heap, not sure where to go next.
“What are you doing?”
Startled, Kunag turned to the home opposite Sinti’s.
“Were you watching me?” he asked Jema, walking over.
“Not many people walk around calling names in the middle of the night.” She moved up to make space for him on the step.
“Why were you sitting here?”
“Just needed time to think,” she said softly.
Kunag told her about Jari and the lamp. He told her he would have hit his sister. When Jema didn’t comment on that, he went on to tell her of Jari’s hate for Kun DJar and his own disappointment after having hoped for it to be teaming with unspoiled and colourful life. He mentioned his trip to the beach. “The planet is already so ugly and then people go and capture or kill the few animals we do find.”
“Why do you think they do that?” Jema asked.
“I know it’s to study them or for food, but Remag should know that you can’t study animals away from their habitat.”
“Maybe you should tell him that,” Jema said and suggested he ask Remag to share what he’d learned.
Kunag didn’t answer because he had no intention of talking to that man again, but he didn’t want to explain why.
Jema pointed to the rising moon. “Is that Kunag or Kuntji?”
Kunag couldn’t tell them apart unless they were together. “I think the farthest away is Kuntji,” he said.
“So why is the planet so ugly?”
He repeated his complaint, though he’d not meant it to sound as such; the lack of creatures, no trees, no birds. “Cold, empty silence and what we find is tiny and edible. If only we could find intelligent life then people won’t eat it.”
“But who decides what intelligence is, Kunag? And what right do we have to say that an animal that is intelligent or useful to us should live and those we consider dumb or pests should die? How come you don’t mind eating plants, while many plants fertilize and incubate their young inside their body, which a lot of animals don’t? Maybe we shouldn’t conclude that Kun DJar is ugly, since those are our standards. It’s just different. The mud homes aren’t very pretty, but they are strong and warm and they keep us safe.”
Kunag stared ahead of him. The homes stood out against the moonlit sky; all different shapes. What was she saying? That he shouldn’t call the planet ugly? That the outside didn’t count, not for the planet or the homes and not for Jari? Like everybody else tried to tell him, like they all told Jari, but they had easy talking; they didn’t have to live with her.
Jema pointed at the paper that was sticking out of the pack. “Can I see your drawing?”
He handed it over. “It got covered in oil. It’s probably ruined.”
She held it up to the light of the moon. It wasn’t ruined, but it shimmered like the sea had. “You know what the very best part of this drawing is?”
“What?”
“The eyes. They seem alive.”
“I like drawing eyes. They kind of speak for a person.”
“Do you think you could make me a drawing of Jari like that; just a small one?”
“Of Jari? Why?”
She handed him back the paper. “Because I’d like to have a drawing of your sister. The way she is now; not how you remember her from before the accident.”
Kunag carefully put the paper away. He didn’t want to draw Jari. She’d kill him…
“Or don’t you draw ugly things?” Jema asked, looking at him in a way that made him blush – not that she could see that in the dark.
“What if she finds out?”
“You’re not making it for her. You’re making it for me. I assume she won’t need to pose for it. Rorag didn’t, did he?”
She stopped him from getting up by putting her hand on his arm. “You were at the Society meeting today.” It wasn’t a question.
He explained about the interview and the reason he’d gone with Harmon rather than Wolt. “Wolt thinks they’re all crazy people, but I kind of liked it.”
“People do that. They stay away from what they don’t understand.”
“I understand only the part of Frimon wanting to protect the planet,” Kunag said.
“What about Jari?”
“No way. She’s totally on Roilan’s side. She wants all DJar’s luxuries back yesterday, the weather included, I think. That’s the only thing she agrees with my parents about.”
“I wasn’t meaning the ideology, Kunag. The people in the Society stick together in hard times. Jari is lonely and hurt. They could help her. She would not need to share their beliefs.”
“Uh-uh. She’d never do that. She says they’re weird. They have crazy ceremonies and she says they sleep with each other – you know, not just comates, but anybody.”
“She knows an awful lot about them for someone who never leaves her home.”
“Yes, but I think she’s right, though. I’ve heard it too.”
“You mean that it doesn’t matter to them if somebody is old or young, pretty or ugly; they share their mats anyway, for love. A little like the nobis on DJar did. That makes them different, so they’re weird?”
“But the nobis are animals.”
“So are we, Kunag.”
For the second time, she had him feeling embarrassed. “I should go home. I will try and make you a drawing.”
She didn’t stop him. He walked as slowly as he could and then sat down on his own step to put Jari’s face onto paper. After three attempts he gave up and went in to lie down for a bit. The lamp was back on the ceiling.
Kunag slept late, for which he g
ot in trouble at the distribution centre, so he turned around and left to visit Sinti instead. He didn’t return home until close to Kundown and found Tini and Daili in the front room. The painting of the green Telemer garden on the wall, which he’d redrawn for Mom after the flood, screamed its contrast with Kun DJar. Jari was on her mat and in a foul mood; Mom would have tried to be extra friendly because of the visitor, and Jari couldn’t stand that.
Daili expressed her concern about Laytji going on the expedition, from which Kunag concluded that they’d asked everybody except him.
A knock on the door was followed by Sinti’s voice. “You forgot your pack,” she said when he opened it.
Kunag took it from her. He’d never before left his artpack anywhere. When she made no attempt to turn around, he invited her in. She accepted, said a cheerful hello to Tini, stopped for a moment when she saw Daili, and then followed him into the backroom.
Kunag had meant to put the pack into his chest and get his coat to go out with her, but Sinti sat down on his mat as if she was used to doing so, and then she did the worst thing ever: She pulled out her brush and mirror, which she always carried, and started brushing her hair. It was a habit Kunag usually liked to watch.
Within a fraction of seeing Jari move, he jumped forward to protect Sinti, but not fast enough to keep his sister from snatching the mirror. She threw it onto the floor and stood on it until it cracked into a mas of tiny pieces. Her eyes seemed evil right then; she enjoyed the destruction. “How dare you bring her in here? You should stay away from girls. You have no taste – first a slut and now a brain-dead.”
Tini and Daili came in, while Sinti proclaimed her innocence. “I can’t help it that you got hurt. You shouldn’t be jealous of me.”
Before Jari could really attack her, Kunag dragged Sinti out of his home, forgetting to take his coat. He didn’t know what to say to Sinti, who kept repeating she was not to blame for the accident. “Stay away from Jari, okay?” he finally said.
“I don’t understand you. If you really loved me, you would have kicked her out. How can we get committed if I’m not even allowed to be on your mat?”
Who had talked about commitment? Kunag silently cursed her stupidity, but at the same time he wondered if it had been just stupid. He didn’t want to tell her that she’d been wrong, so he said nothing.
“Kunag?” Daili asked, coming out of the door.
As soon as she saw her, Sinti ran off. Kunag didn’t go after her.
“What happened?” Daili asked.
He told her what Sinti had done. “She doesn’t think sometimes. It wasn’t her fault.”
“It was nobody’s fault, but everybody feels hurt; Sinti, you, Jari, but most of all your mom.”
He knew that. He tried to keep Sinti away. Even though she was his friend, he never asked her over because of Jari. Everybody did what Jari wanted, afraid of her moods. “Nobody ever comes anymore because of her.”
He shivered with the cold and wished she’d leave, but Daili wanted to talk. Like all the others, she tried to tell him how Jari needed his support; that only the outside had changed.
“Easy for you to say, but I’m tired of her. She’s bitter and horrible and makes it impossible for us to live. And Mom defends her all the time. She pretends nothing happened.”
He had not meant to raise his voice at Daili, but everybody was saying the same thing and they were wrong.
“I know that, Kunag. I will talk to your mom about that, but Jari won’t listen to me. She needs your help. I know it isn’t easy. Nobody said it would be. Sinti is a pretty face, but not much more and I think you know that. Jari is your sister.”
“It’s just words,” he answered, irritated that Daili was attacking Sinti while Jari had purposely hurt him. At least Sinti had a heart.
“I know they’re just words, Kunag. I can’t give you more than words.”
“I’m sick of talking,” Kunag mumbled and walked off.
Tini smiled when he came in. The broken mirror was already gone. Nobody told Dad what happened when he came home for meals. Kunag wasn’t hungry. When Jari went through to eat, he sat down on his mat and drew her face the way she’d been opposite Sinti, when she said all those evil things. Exactly the way she was now.
A Swarm of Angry Bees
Maike was putting the last of the foodbars into her pack when she heard someone call her name. She’d just sent Leyon to the well to fill up the water jug so they’d have an extra day without chemtablets.
“I’m coming! Don’t rush me!” she shouted, checking once more that she had everything, and walked out.
“Maike?”
A young man she didn’t know stood panting from having run. He wasn’t an expedition member. “Are you Maike?”
She affirmed, surprised by his ignorance: Enough Kunag cartoons had adorned the habitat walls during the journey.
“I’ve been told to give you this.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, folded and tied at the top.
“What is it?”
“A letter, I guess. Erwin told me it was meant for you.”
That was pretty obvious since her name was written on the front. “Erwin?” He was the captain of the seakabin.
“Yes, I had to find you before you left. It… um… there was an accident.” The young fisherman hopped from one foot to the other, eager to get away.
“What happened?” she asked, but her mind had already put the pieces together.
“Well, at first we thought he’d fallen or something. But he was always seasick and miserable and then we found this letter on his bunk, so the captain said he probably jumped.”
There was no need to ask who he was talking about. “Nobody saw him?”
“Nobody.”
The young man didn’t know much more about the situation; he’d only been sent to bring her the letter. She thanked him and let him walk away. Opposite her stood Leyon with the water jug.
“Not a word of this to anybody,” she warned, and put the note into her pack. There was no time to open it now; not here, not in front of Leyon, maybe not ever. “Let’s go; they’ll be waiting.”
They met the other expedition members just south of town, where the river bent around a large rock. Aware that Aryan was looking at Leyon, Maike walked up to him. “Sorry we’re late.”
As she expected, he didn’t ask but turned and started walking, taking the lead, heading southwest rather than directly to the hills. Maike let him; this was Aryan’s expedition. It had been his idea – just a few people to check what lay over the hills. He had asked Kalgar for some experts to take along, people who could determine the quality of the land for farming. That had been a bad move. Kalgar had decided to join and insisted on taking some other specialists, a medical person, and he had asked Maike. She hadn’t refused; anything to get away from town for a bit. Then, when the news came that the kabin had been spotted, she’d decided to take Leyon along, just in case. Now it was a ten-person team.
In front of Maike the three young girls chattered, excited by the prospect of a vacation. Kalgar and Wentar were in front of them, and the botanist and zoologist were right behind Aryan; a small parade, of which she and Leyon made up the rear. They all looked the same with their packs and rolled-up travel mats on their backs; some were weighed down with pieces of peat to burn for fires, and others were carrying special equipment to go with their job, like Wentar and Remag, who had a small laboratory that folded up as a suitcase. Each wore their strongest footwear and trousers to avoid touching unknown vegetation or other irritants.
Ahead of them, all the way to the hills, stretched an orange sea of bulbous starches. The land was flat and easy to walk.
“He hates me,” Leyon began after his initial silence.
“Who does?”
“Aryan.”
“No, he does not. Aryan doesn’t hate people. He just doesn’t like you hanging around me all the time.”
“It’s my fault, isn’t
it?”
“Don’t worry about it, he’ll come around,” she answered.
“I mean Thalo.”
She grabbed his arm to slow him. “I thought you wanted him gone?” she whispered.
The kid shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know, Leyon. I wasn’t there.”
After about two hours of walking, Remag took out a pair of binoculars and started tracing the sky. To the north-east, behind them, the town was no more distinguishable than some irregular shapes raised in the flat land. Ahead were the hills, silhouetted against the bright light of Kun.
“What’s he doing?” Maike asked Kintji when she reached the waiting group.
“He thinks he saw the bees; the ones that escaped in the storm,” the botanist answered.
Maike squinted in the same direction, but saw nothing. Clearly unaware that everybody was waiting for him, Remag wandered farther and farther away, irritating both Kalgar and Aryan. Maike lowered her pack and used the opportunity to rest, lying down in the orange groundcover to shade her eyes from the light. Here, protected from the wind, it was almost warm. She listened to the others with her eyes closed. Kalgar had gone after Remag and was urging him to come back. Then there was a disagreement about whether to make camp here or aim to reach the hills before dark.
“We came to check out what is on the other side. You can study this place in your own time,” Aryan told Remag.
“Maike, they’re leaving,” Leyon said from above her head.
“Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”
It was almost a shame to leave this comfortable bed. She lingered as long as possible, until she was startled by a loud whoosh right over her head. For an instant it sounded like a birdwing, but it was a black cloud that moved away. Before she could pick up her pack, the cloud turned and approached from the other side, swooping down to where she stood. Maike dropped herself back into the vegetation: Those were Remag’s bees – masses of them.
In record speed she pulled up her pack and ran after the others. She heard the swarm when it was once more right behind her. They were after her. Maybe it was the food she carried.
“Oy, wait up!” she yelled. She’d never make it if she had to drop down every minute. Twice more the swarm dove at her before she reached the others. Then the bees withdrew. All but Remag opted to make haste in getting to the hills.
