by Emanuel, Ako
Then she deemed it time to return to the Observis. This time, Pavtala Ralili’Bax took them up to the Crown, where the legendary Malkia had made their lofty domicives, higher than any other group had dared venture. There, the Mji’Hives were sealed against the virtual airlessness of the altitude.
Kreceno’Tiv made himself comfortable in her domicive’s Observis. She snuggled against him once more, not gloming at him, but just a warm, comforting presence at his side. Their friends did the same, all avid with anticipation.
The view again showed from the observation transport rising above the Algna Suprum landmass, but this time it continued to ascend. The sub-Trunks of the World-Tree could be seen in the far-off distance, still huge even at the edges of the landforms at the limit of vision. Between the sub-Trunks was an almost blindingly blue sky, with clouds that were fluffy-looking. Coming from above were the Great-Falls, torrential waters from the upper landforms high overhead, originating from the storm-level. These falls were the main source of water for the Trunk-Junction landforms where the bulk of the population of the World-Tree now lived. The other source was the Tree itself, which released water and nectar in open depressions, making sweet, shallow seas in the landforms. The Great-Falls made their own bodies of water, but these were turbulent, and outlet through their own via-Ways, to fall to the next lower levels.
There was a time-cut, and then they were looking at a place where those huge sub-Trunks were coming together again, or else Limbs from the sub-Trunks had reached inward to intersect. There, more landforms had been grown, like Algna and Segela and Bolsho, and they passed through a via-Way of each and saw the abandoned Mji’Hives that populated them.
“This is Cartus Yllum. These Hives were where the Sentinel-males were encamped,” Pavtala Ralili’Bax said into the quiet of the projection, indicating the lowest of the landforms that had been made from the substance of the Limbs. From this bottom level the Great-Falls emerged, but they did not originate at this level. “The domicives were very utilitarian, very austere. They are said to be in suspension below Bolsho Undum, now, and have been since the Unification.”
The landform fell away as the view from the transport continued rise. After the expected time-cut, they came to the next, rising up through the via-Way, and what unfolded before them was nothing less than what could be considered paradise.
“This is Relis Sorum,” Pavtala Ralili’Bax said, and there was a strange quaver to her voice. “Here, the male consorts of the Malkia, and the female mfanya-drones lived, and the Malkia came down to take their pleasure.”
It was obvious that the Hives and constructs on the landform were meant purely for pleasure, for the catering to the excesses of a few by those around them. Kreceno’Tiv felt a strange jolt as he watched the projection of the play-area of the ancient Malkia. Everywhere were pleasure fountains and baths, lounges, the instruments of amusement and pleasure, and in a few disturbing areas, torture. There were Great-Falls here, too, coming from above and proceeding through via-Ways down below. These Falls were especially violent, thundering down with white froth their entire lengths. But they did not seem to affect the ancient pleasure and recreation palacives of the vanquished Malkia that populated the entire landform.
Had I been born then, I could have been condemned to be here, he thought, and the notion curled vile and green in his belly. A mating-slave, practically without will, subject to the whims of whichever Malkia took attraction to me. By the Ancient Hives!
“This is just – awful!” Ropali Galici’Bel said, gesturing distress. “Men and women both, slaves to the Malkia! I am so grateful that we do not live in those times!”
Kreceno’Tiv found himself concurring. Just as he, if Ropali Galici’Bel had been born in those long ago turns, she would have likely been a drone, if not a mindless breeder of drones, whose only purpose was to serve the Malkia. Just how were the Malkia overthrown? he wondered, unable to look away. They had absolute control. What could undo that? He decided he would have to research the Unification, or perhaps take a lecture on it in Tertius, if it was offered.
The observation transport obviously made a detailed study of the Relis landform, but Pavtala Ralili’Bax had cut the imaging to edit it out, guessing correctly that this analysis of their inglorious past would be more upsetting than entertaining. When the imaging resumed, the view was ascending again, and passed through a weeping via-Way. The landform above was drenched, ravaged by torrential rains, clouds roiling and spewing lightning and shaking with thunder, and pouring forth violent surges of water, almost solid sheets of downpour. The entire level was practically covered in one churning ocean of turbulent foam and mist. The view shook and became distorted, until someone obviously stabilized the glyph of the transport, modifying it so that the hard rain diverted around it.
“This is Dorus Pallum, the storm-level,” Pavtala Ralili’Bax said. Then she fell silent and pressed close to him, and he held her, as they vicariously experienced the raging storm-level of the World-Tree in silence, the sounds of the imaging muted. She made no commentary, the storm-level needing no explanation. In fact, she tucked her vuu’erio tennae away, and her wing-nets buzzed, making her elytra-pace vibrate against his arm.
But she experienced it directly, if she went on this expedition also, he thought, a little bewildered that it should still affect her so. Perhaps the images recalled the memory a little too vividly? He did not object, however, glad for the excuse to embrace her tightly. And when the transport finally broke free of the weather systems, and resumed its serene travel upward, she did not draw away. And he did not slacken his hold.
Whorl Forty Three
“And here we have Aguila Ascendum, the landform of the Malkia,” Pavtala Ralili’Bax breathed after the next time-cut, as if the storm-level had physically taxed her. The fiery blue of the sky between the landform horizons disappeared to black, and stars, hard and constant, showed. The underside of the Ascendum had no Guhan Sun-form, for the storm-level did not really need the light to mark light-turn from dark, and the Ascendum was so much higher that it practically did not occlude the true Guhan Sun that much from the Dorus Pallum level. The topmost landform was also the smallest, for it did not need to support the massive populations of the lower levels. Here, there were curious, pale pillars coming from the Aguila Ascendum, and Kreceno’Tiv realized with a start that they were columns of water being drawn up from the storm-level to service the upper-most level. Whatever glyph-construct that drew the water upward also kept it from freezing as it rose through the thin, rarified atmosphere.
“The Hives of the Malkia here on Aguila Ascendum are sealed,” Pavtala Ralili’Bax said, taking up her narrative, “because the air is so thin up here. And they had to induce normal gravity by use of the gravity glyph – we’re still studying how they did it. Here, they had their abodes, and the nursery-crèches, where the drones tended their babies. The girls were given the World-Tree nectar, that would help them ascend to become Malkia, and the boys were sent down to the Relis Sorum level. They were given some considerations, but not many.”
The transport came to rest among the enclosed Hives. There the imaging ended.
Thynnu Tikati’Pas sat up, and wiped at her eyes. “Well, I guess it can’t all be creepy, scary, mindless monsters,” she said, untucking her vuu’erio tennae. “At the top, were monsters, but fully mindful of what they were doing. Horrors above, and horrors below. By the Hives, Ralili!”
Pavtala Ralili’Bax made a meaningful gesture, half-contrite. “I know it was a little upsetting, but at least it wasn’t boring,” she said. “We must be mindful of the past, or...” she did not finish the idiom.
“Oh ha, it’s later than I realized,” Ro-Becilo’Ran said, holding out a hand to Ropali Galici’Bel. “Friends, we must go. Find some more adventures for us, Ralili!”
“We have to go, too,” Thynnu Tikati’Pas said, standing and pulling her pre-mate’s arms around her shoulders when he stood behind her. He willingly wrapped himself around her, an
d they gestured a pleasant parting.
Whorl Forty Four
Kreceno’Tiv did not leave with the rest, wanting to spend a little time with just Pavtala Ralili’Bax herself. Her parents had long since retreated to their suite, leaving the younger people to their amusements.
“Would you object if I stayed a while longer?” he asked. She smiled warmly at his request to stay, and agreed readily.
“Yes, if you promise not to be too courteous,” she teased, glyph-conjuring a large meal.
“Not too courteous?” he asked ingenuously, gesturing confusion as they ate.
“Yes,” she laughed, tilting her head. “If you’re too courteous, you might not kiss me later. But enough of that, come, let me show you around.” And with that she led him through the various suites of her domicive, which was much more modest that his famiya’s, but seemed more welcoming, more homey. Then they ended up in her suite, snuggled on a lounge together.
“I can see why you haven’t given into the despair,” he said, his nerves jangling at her closeness. Though she had not glomed him, her mention of kissing had set his wing-nets to buzzing. She had pushed him down onto the reclining lounge, then crawled up between his legs and lain on him, as if it were the most expected thing to do. When he put his arms around her, she had just sighed and relaxed against him, comfortable, her head resting on his sternum.
“Despair?” she lifted her head, gazed at him, considered. “Yes, that fits, the Mji’Hives are drowned with it, aren’t they? I always thought of it as a kind of heaviness, an oppression, but despair is much more apt. Do you despair?”
It was a direct question that he was not expecting, though looking back at his comment, he supposed that he should have.
“Yes,” he confessed, “a little. But I’m hoping to go to Tertius, so I’m not completely goalless. It – the despair – just makes me... irritable, at times.”
She laughed a tinkling laugh, seeming delighted with his answer. “That was entirely too honest! Thank you for that – I like honesty and bluntness, being that way myself. So, at home, you’re a much more pleasant fellow?”
He furrowed his brow at her, then laughed. “Yes, I’m a laughing fool, and my parents call me Smiles. They tell me I need to take things much more seriously.”
She sat up to laugh, throwing her head back in an appealing way. “Oh ha, a wit, you are. Good, I thought you were just brains and attractiveness and tallness and muscle and brooding, but there’s something shining in you yet!”
“I don’t know about shining, but there is more to me, if you’d like to know,” he said, holding out his hand. Pavtala Ralili’Bax gave him a melting, heartfelt look, then took his hand, reading something more of his glyph than casual contact would allow. He opened up to her a little, letting her get to know him a bit better. But she did so delicately, not taking in too much, just the bare minimum.
“Mmm, that was sweet,” she said, then she turned serious again. “Thank you for that.”
“Why did you...?” he asked, as she cuddled in his arms again. Or, he began to ask. It seemed silly, once he began putting words to the thought, and he let it trail off. But, though she had claimed that she was not in peril of exile from the OSI, he could not help wondering.
“Why did I... what?” She turned a twinkling, teasing gaze up to him, as if knowing what he was asking, but delighting in making him say the words.
“Why did you finally speak to me?” he asked, awkwardly. “I – would have thought you weren’t interested. You sat beside me all that time, sharing half of the same lectures with me, and saying nothing. Why now?”
She shrugged, still smiling. “I thought you were – standoffish, aloof. But then, when you seemed to be getting close to pre-mating with Zyledi’Kil, but came back the next turn not sporting her colors, I – I peeked at what I could see of your glyph, and – there was sadness there. You looked like you needed a friend. So I decided to try to talk to you. I’ve been interested in you for a while, but you were so...” she blinked at him, her vuu’erio tennae waving at him. He invited her to know him a little better, letting her read something more of his glyph. “You’re just closed in, within yourself,” she said quietly, touching his cheek. “I had thought you were cold, but you aren’t. First you were completely wrapped up by your ex-Geni’vhes, then you were just – hurt. Damn Pelani’Dun, and her manipulations, she almost ruined you!”
Kreceno’Tiv laughed, because he could not disagree. Pavtala Ralili’Bax smiled in delight, her eyes sparkling. He leaned down on impulse and kissed her, and she responded, sliding her arms around his neck. The low, comforting level of her chemi-scent shifted, changed to real attraction, and he shivered as he let his body respond to her. She pressed closer, more fully up into his embrace, and he felt surprise and more delight from her, and then – a flash of something, something so brief, that he could not quite read it.
“What is it?” he whispered, touching his brow to hers. His vuu’erio tennae gently brushed over hers. “I felt that. What was that?”
She twined her vuu’erio tennae with his briefly. “Oh, Kreceno,” she said, using his given name affectionately, but not as intimately as Zyledi’Kil had done, “I...”
“What?” he asked again, sliding a finger under her chin and tilting her face up so that he could look into her deep red eyes. She was very pretty, and had a bright glyph, usually full of laughter and enjoyment of life.
She blinked, and tears actually shone there, in her pretty red eyes. “I promised myself that I would be honest with you,” she said, and there was much more there, a silver-sad, bitter edge to her meaning.
“That’s good,” he said lightly, waiting for her to elaborate. Instead she kissed him again, and it was sweet and salt, but mostly sweet. He ran his hands down her elytra-pace, could feel that her wing-nets were already straining at them, just about ready to burst through. Her passion flowed around him, dominating his mind for a moment, but she did not try to press forward to proto-mating, stopping at the pre-mating level. His body responded, the colors of green and black deepening enough to mark him. When they drifted up from the depths of the kiss, she snuggled her head under his chin and sighed.
“Be honest with me,” he said huskily. Her arms slid about his body, and her hands were light, teasingly fluttery on his elytra-pace. “Or not,” he breathed, “which ever you prefer.” Just don’t pull away. She squeezed him as he shared the thought-glyph. He liked this closeness, and if honesty was going to destroy it, he would leave whatever it was alone.
“I know we won’t be – together after Secondus,” she said quietly, after a time, and there was real sadness in her voice.
“Why’s that?” he asked, tensing slightly. Was the OSI going to raise its hideous vuu’erio tennae again?
“Because I – I probably won’t be going to Tertius, not directly,” she answered, looking up at him. “I am not worried about being moved off-world by the Initiative, because I already have my plans and path set. I’ll be apprenticed to my mother in the Ministry of Preservation, a specialization of Tertius, and I’ll be going to the Solidaris Orm right after Secondus. When you go to Tertius, you’ll be there for at least three orbises. You’ll have found someone else, by then.”
“I might not get to go,” he temporized, though getting into Tertius was his ambition. “My parents...”
“You’ll go,” she said with conviction. “Unless you balk, your parents will send you. Don’t worry, I knew all of this from the beginning. I just – wanted to be close to you for the time we have left in Secondus.”
He felt a touch of the cold anguish, but it did not sour his attraction to her. Her chemi-scent turned comforting, again, soothing, and he let it soothe him. Her honesty was brutal, but he could not fault it. She had no false hopes, and no desperate needs.
“Let’s not be honest anymore, not for this turn,” he said, and he knew that there was a slightly bitter edge to his voice. She turned a smile, bright and mischievous to him, kissed him again.<
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“All right. We’ll be together forever and ever, Geni’vhor, mated for so long that my colors will carve themselves into your elytra-pace,” she said, a chuckle in her voice.
He laughed, but there was a part of him that winced and cringed, not because he was put off, but because he craved something like that, and he knew that her words were fiction.
“Don’t worry,” she said, rubbing her cheek playfully against his. “There is someone special out there for you, Kreceno. You’ll meet her, and she’ll never let you go.”
“How do you know?” he queried, trying to stay the sour feeling. “I thought we weren’t going to be honest anymore.”
Pavtala Ralili’Bax waved that away. “I know because you’re special, and because you desire it. Honestly.” She tucked her head under his chin again, and a whisper of desire from her, a wish that she have been that one, washed over him like glittering, stinging rain.
Whorl Forty Five
