“I think you need to pause,” Tom interrupted. “None of these people know what you’re talking about.”
Aether paused the reading at once. “As in, don’t understand because I’m saying it wrong, or that no one knows?”
“Look.” Tom pointed at the parting circle of guards in front of them, the three Threck stepping inside the ring.
LIVETRANS: No more.
LIVETRANS: Come in.
LIVETRANS: Come follow. Talk inside.
The three halted below them, regarding Skinny’s corpse with vague interest before peering up. One of them reached out with both arms, feeling the air beneath the skimmer as if some invisible pedestal supported it.
LIVETRANS: What holds it?
LIVETRANS: What is it on?
Aether turned to Tom, hands on the console as he leaned over it to see below. “They want us to go with them inside.”
“Yeah, I got that. I think that’s what they were saying all along. Before they heard anything we had to say.”
“So what do you think?”
Tom shrugged. “That I’m not big on you being around any of them.”
“If they’re willing to help us cross the ocean, I’m going to be spending plenty of time with them. You said yourself that some were reasonable, and we know now why they freaked out about your description of how antibiotics work.”
“Right.”
“So the question is,” Aether said. “Do you trust that they only wish to talk? That this isn’t some trap?”
“Honestly, I don’t think they’re capable of lying, or at least successfully. They seem unable to conceal their feelings. Subconscious body language. Just send the second section and watch.”
Aether leaned over the console to see the beckoning Threck below. “We wish to speak with Dowfwoss Unhkte, who was present during the tragic event—” The three launched into a new flurry of gestures, pointing back toward the gate.
Aether looked up and saw a Threck form standing just inside the doorway. “They’re pointing at the entrance. Do you happen to recognize that person?” Aether zoomed in and her lighting auto-adjusted. As if only a meter away, she could see the Threck figure (and a few others, deeper in the shadow), eyes inebriated, head adorned with scars of varying size, a few little divots missing from her siphons’ outer edges, and cloak adorned with purple trim.
“That’s Unhkte,” Tom said upon inspection. Aether thought she heard a spark of relief.
“Great, but I don’t like that we’re still surrounded by armed guards.”
“Maybe tell them to leave?”
Aether looked at Tom. He shrugged. She returned focus to the emissaries below. “Send away these guards so that we may come down to talk.”
The three conversed briefly with no attempt at secrecy, and ordered the guards to disperse. In an instant, the troops split into four groups, one heading for the harbor, two toward either side of the field, and one toward the gate.
Aether tapped her fingers on the panel and chewed the inside of her cheek. “They could just be waiting for us inside. We don’t have time—and I don’t have the patience—for even a brief detention.” Tom only nodded absently. She studied him. “Hey, if something starts going down, you can’t start shooting people. We’re all stuck here.”
“You made that clear earlier. I’m not some psycho, you know.”
She reached out and pulled him against her, hugging tight. “I know that, hon. I’m just nervous about this whole situation, okay?”
He nodded sheepishly and gently pushed away from her. “Not in front of the aliens, Mom.” She saw a small, fleeting smile curl into his cheek, and she felt for the first time that he would one day recover.
“Sorry.” She sucked in a deep breath, checked their surroundings once more, and brought the skimmer down close to the gate and main wall.
Unhkte stepped out into the sunlight. “I had questioned Amoss’s eyes when describing your cloud machine.” She extended an arm to touch a handrail, but stopped before making contact. “Truly your powers are beyond our comprehension.” Aether stepped down from the platform, followed by Tom. Unhkte regarded both of their bodies and faces. She then set her eyes on Tom. “Welcome back, Tom. Who is this you’ve brought with you?”
“This is our leader, Aether.”
Unhkte turned to Aether. “Eether … is that so? This is enticing and disturbing name. Come inside. We have much to discuss.”
* * *
Through empty halls and busy arcades they walked as Unhkte recounted the events of two nights ago. A single Setkee and guard followed behind, but without weapons.
“It was clear to me that your people were as surprised and upset as we …”
TOM: I looked it up. “Eether” is their word for “the layer of mucus that forms outside the egg cavity at the beginning of a reproductive cycle.” That’s the stuff we thought might be the vessel for genetic conjugation, along with mud. If you were wondering.
AETHER: That’s great. “Enticing and disturbing” indeed.
Unhkte spoke constantly as they walked. “… convinced the Council that our people’s future interrelations would best be conducted by the Thinkers, who, I note, are tense and delighted in anticipation …”
Aether was growing concerned with how deep into the city they were walking, now having traversed a bridge and climbed three tiers. She’d hoped to step inside the gate, sit down, and talk—the exit and skimmer within reach if demanded.
“Apologies, Dowfwoss Unhkte, but could we stop somewhere nearby and begin our talk? We wished to address three important subjects.”
“Of course,” Unhkte said without a break in stride. “Our chamber is just this way.”
They rounded a columned corner and were struck with an awe-inspiring view.
TOM: We’ve never seen this. Not even in the maps.
Like some warped Roman hypostyle, enormous stone columns stood like ancient redwoods. Arranged in two curved, parenthetical rows, they jutted straight up from gray bedrock, and, at their tops, held a single afvrik shell as roof. The builders had cut a circular skylight into the shell center, evoking some impossibly huge Threck endoshell. Outside of the enormous columns, still-impressive rows of standard Threck pillars lined the room’s outer edges, large canvas panels stretched out between them as walls, with archetypal historical murals painted on their inward facing surfaces.
Following Unhkte between the oversized columns, Aether noted the cuboid plinths between each—pedestals for various artifacts. The bonded skeleton of an intimidating, dolphin-sized fish; a petrified, bisected fungus trunk with bored-out tunnels, as if from termites; a giant flatworm, two meters long and hanging from a frame, its underside sliced with an X and pinned open, exposing internals. It appeared to be coated with some shiny preservative.
And then, the preeminent treasure of the collection, suspended by several lines between the last pair of columns: an immense Hynka skeleton. Like a dinosaur museum exhibit, the beast had been reassembled and posed as if frozen mid-attack—long, crocodilian jaw open just enough to show off its inner rows of teeth, thick arm bones stretching out before it as if some juicy prey floated a hair’s length out of reach.
Aether stopped in front of it, daunted by the thought of her loved ones in a land swarming with these killing machines.
“Hard-fought prize from distant land,” Unhkte said.
Aether snapped out of her daze and saw Tom and the others waiting for her. She replied, “Hynka Country, correct?”
“Have you been there?” Unhkte asked.
“Not me, but some of my people are trapped there as we speak. It’s one of the subjects we wish to discuss.”
Unhkte stepped to the skeleton and ran her palm down the star-shaped kneecap. “If they are not floating in the sky on one of your cloud things, your people are undoubtedly dead. We lost seventy Threck before capturing this one.”
“We have some unique survival skills,” Aether said. “How did you catch it?”
/> “Food trap, set near beach. After several failures—too many for this mere prize, I say—they attached immense rope chain to submerged afvrik, placed captured prey animals in middle of netted circle, and waited. They didn’t wait long. Many came bursting from the jungle, and the afvrik was ordered to swim out to open sea. This one was not caught, so much as it refused to let food escape. It clung to the retreating rope, dragging through crashing waves, all the time tearing at the net, stuffing freed rodents under mouth, in neck space, to hold. Even as it plunged deeper and deeper, it refused to forfeit its meal. Finally, it filled with water and died. The joyous Threck towed the thing all the way back across the sea, fending off attacks from sea predators that wished to steal the hard-earned prize. Upon their return, Eshkowoss Peekt ordered it studied, then to be displayed in this way, with the other unique creatures our people have found. Our founder, and subsequently we, believe there are groups of related animals. This worm, for instance, shares nearly every internal—”
Baffled, Tom cut in. “Eshkowoss Peekt? The very first Threck?”
“Yes, the first.”
Tom continued. “How long ago was this?”
“Not so long …” Unhkte considered, and turned to one of the other Threck with them. “Were you Setkee then?”
The Threck signed recollection. “Soon after. In my second wind.”
Unhkte calculated, “Approximately eighty-eight years.”
Tom shared a stunned look with Aether. “Eshkowoss Peekt was still alive eighty-eight years ago?”
“And today,” a new voice spoke nearby, thick and husky. “To disdain of learned colleagues.”
Aether spun round to see a pair of deep purple curtains, hanging from roof height, and parted at the bottom. Between them, two Threck stood holding between them a sort of litter, and spread across its wide surface lay a dark, bloated Threck—Eshkowoss Peekt.
Unhkte sprang forth with previously unseen vitality, striding across the room to the curtains. “You came! Will you remain? We can have your bath brought at once.”
“No, no, stop. Let visitors come close. Certainly day stubborn body awaited. Bring. Heard only wondrous voice uttering words created.”
Livetrans was struggling with the elderly Threck’s speech.
“Yes,” Unhkte said with cheer. “Your words.”
Already walking from the Hynka display, Aether and Tom marveled at the giant Threck spread across the litter’s flat platform.
TOM: This makes no sense. This is supposed to be the first Threck.
AETHER: Maybe like a reincarnated pharaoh? Someone new inherits the title and name after the previous one dies? In their case, what if the original parasite is actually transferred to a new host body?
TOM: That’s actually not a bad theory. Let’s see.
Unhkte gestured to a spot directly in front of the city’s supposed founder and Aether and Tom stepped up, shoulder to shoulder. The aged Threck’s wide eyes were marbled spheres of creamy yellow and brown, with hundreds of splintering cracks across the surface, like shattered glass.
“Smell,” Eshkowoss Peekt said, one meaty club rising feebly to gesture. “Can touch?”
She’d lost the ability to sign, thus the stunted translations. This was how Livetrans speech would come across to the Threck if Aether omitted gestures.
Unhkte turned to them, affecting a more formal speech. “Syons People, Aether and Tom, you are standing before the parent of all Threck, Eshkowoss Peekt, who has exhausted the sense of sight. Would physical touch examination be acceptable?”
Tom’s PA announced a response before Aether could answer. “No. No touching.”
Aether glowered his way. She understood his reasoning—the fears behind it—but that sort of rejection could damage their attempt at friendly relations, and more critically, the chances of securing Threck help. He refused to look at her, resolve stamped on his face.
Aether sent a more tactful response. “Tom has sensitivity to touch, but I would be honored to be examined by Eshkowoss Peekt.”
“No, you won’t,” Tom said aloud, then echoed via Livetrans, “No, she won’t.”
“Stop this now, Thomas,” Aether growled. “She’s a frail, old lady, and you are condemning our friends to death. Don’t say another word.”
Tom’s chest shuddered as his face contorted from anguish to dogged obstinacy to desperation.
Unhkte cut in. “If there are concerns of disease, Eshkowoss Peekt merely bears the burdens of age. All of those fortunate enough to receive this gift of touch receive no consequences in return, all present included.” She gestured to the two litter bearers and others behind Tom and Aether.
“Our apologies,” Aether said. “We have no such fears. Tom simply finds the honor so high—an undeserved gift.” Aether stepped forward on one foot to kneel before Eshkowoss Peekt. “You may proceed—”
Tom grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “No.”
Aether clenched her fists, tiny explosions firing behind her eyes. She shouldn’t have brought him! Why did she bring him? What was she thinking? Protect Eeahso? Screw Eeahso! Minnie, John, and Ish were her priority!
“I would like to accept this honor,” Tom declared as he removed his helmet and took Aether’s place, kneeling before the aged foremother.
Unhkte looked on with approval as an aide guided Eshkowoss Peekt’s brawny appendages—first one, then the other—onto Tom’s head. Like oversized hunks of steak, they slid down his head, over his ears, and then enveloped his entire face, lingering there as cilia scanned every detail.
Aether held her breath as she watched, knowing what Tom must be feeling, wondering if he was thinking of Angela’s final seconds. She wanted to send him supportive words, or to reach out and touch him—let him know she was there beside him, distract his senses away from his face and thoughts.
Eshkowoss Peekt narrated as she explored. “Holes … breath … spikes … moist flesh … more fur …” Finally, after several minutes, the examination was over, and Eshkowoss Peekt asked to be returned to her home, adding as she was carried off, “Pleasure courses through, much delight to sustain. Listen, Unhkte … listen learn all from Syons People. City grows from thinking, not bricks.”
Unhkte gawked at Tom and Aether. “This was a matchless gift for Eshkowoss Peekt—a thing ungivable by any Threck. The pleasure was mine to observe.”
Tom wiped his face on his sleeves as he returned to his feet. “I’m certain the pleasure was all mine.” His ironic, traumatized eyes rolled toward Aether.
“Let us continue in.” Unhkte pulled one of the curtains wide, revealing a large chamber full of awaiting Thinkers, all clad in purple-trimmed cloaks.
* * *
The Thinkers’ chamber was designed as a vertical cylinder, like a grain silo, with immense stone blocks for walls. The tiered basin floor had been carved into the bedrock, a bowl mirroring another afvrik shell roof. A shallow pool of water within the deepest tier reflected the roof’s circular skylight.
There were far more Thinkers than council members, Tom had informed Aether as they’d entered the crowded room. Now, standing with Tom at one shoulder and Unhkte at the other, Aether tried to keep up with the scrolling feed of translations. Unhkte made no effort to quiet or control the hundred-plus Thinkers’ exchanges. Gazing around at all the adorned cloaks, Aether guessed that the free flow of conversation was customary, but she didn’t have time for this.
LIVETRANS: Observe the head shell …
LIVETRANS: Amoss was allowed garbless viewing. Will we?
LIVETRANS: This dialogue should be focused solely on philosophy.
LIVETRANS: Agreed!
LIVETRANS: Be mindful … they understand all we say.
LIVETRANS: Technology demonstration should be first.
Aether turned to Unhkte. “Would it be possible for us to begin?” The din of the lounging crowd hushed in seconds. “There is much to discuss.”
“Certainly,” Unhkte said, raising her arms to subdue the remain
ing chatter. “I observe from my learned colleagues that your garb will be the first topic, however superficial … let us put it behind us.” Unhkte slid across the polished rock surface, pointing an arm at Aether. “This one is the leader of the Syons People, called Aether.” Stifled surprised laughter from a few individuals. Unhkte signed harsh disapproval in three directions, then slid to Tom. “This one is called Tom, emissary with strong medicine knowledge, and one of our initial visitors, met with council. You may direct questions to either, or both for one to answer, or both for both to answer. We will queue by admittance—newest to oldest.”
Throaty hocking sounds and gestures conveyed the elder members’ disapproval.
Over Aether’s right shoulder, a small, Setkee-sized Threck, halfway up the natural bleachers, stood. Her cloak was clearly the brightest of the bunch, purple trim freshly dyed and attached. “Peaceful greetings to Syons People. I am the newest Thinker, admitted the day before your first arrival. I am called Atzik. My first question, for this the subject of garb, addressed to both for one to answer: Do Syons People wear one garb, whether in your home or when out exploring other lands?”
Like silent applause, the membership signed unanimous approval of the question by pressing their palms together.
“Well thought and well said,” Unhkte replied. “One modt for Atzik.” She turned to Aether. “One of you may now answer for both.”
Aether stared out at the mass of onlookers, all presumably waiting for their turn to ask a question about clothes … the first topic of this apparent interview session. She imagined hours of probing—perhaps even some brief breaks—and it hadn’t escaped Tom, either.
TOM: This doesn’t bode well for time.
AETHER: Right?! How to avoid being rude? There’s obviously no way we can do this right now.
Exigency Page 26
