Pain Stones (Coalescence Book 2)

by P. S. Power

  “We, us here and those still on the ship, we are… Special beings?” There was a word in her usage, a thing he didn't know at all. She went on, however. “Over the computer system, we, the beings us, here, have learned of this place. Mars. It is, as to the Ysidril and others, open for colonization? We, those who have come, are part of…” She paused then hissed a lot.

  He didn’t get that part at all.

  When she explained, it kind of made some sense.

  “Our purpose is to express the divine one. That which made and is all. We wish to see if we are allowed to live in this world, or if that was a testing?”

  Willum had encountered that specific idea before. Ysidril could lie, but they didn’t do it for the same reasons that human beings did. It wasn’t about looking better, or manipulating people. No, when they lied it was generally about testing their fellows, to make certain they were paying full attention to the task at hand.

  He smiled, then let his mouth open about halfway, so that they could get he was smiling, and turned to Eva.

  “Colonists. They seem to be a religious group? I didn’t actually know that was something that the Ysidril did, but I guess it makes sense.” They were people after all.

  Having four arms, four eyes and three fingers on each hand didn’t change that. Even their skin color didn’t alter that.

  For his part, Willum wasn’t religious, really. Oh, his family had bowed their heads and clasped hands at Postern like everyone else and listened to the lectures, but it hadn’t been that large of a deal in his life. That didn't mean others around them weren’t more into that kind of belief. That intelligent beings from space might have caught on to similar patterns didn’t really shock him that much.

  Eva smiled at him then.

  “Well! Colonists are a thing we’re more or less ready for. Let me find you a living space?” She looked directly at the woman in the front of the group, getting that she was at least the one doing the speaking just then. Ysidril didn’t really have people who were in charge, since they tended to make large group decisions. That didn't mean they wouldn’t poke one being out front however, if it were useful at the moment.

  Glancing at the group, noticing just how different they looked from the Ysidril Willum had come to know, he spoke, keeping his voice calm.

  “How many do you have on the ship? For that matter, how many are planning to come? Is this the whole group, or are there more?” That line of questioning probably would have been invasive in Noram, a bit much in Soam and totally expected in the IPB world.

  Here, with these people, half of whom had strange blue eyes, instead of what he thought of as the normal orange and pink, got him a listing of everyone. Numbers first, which meant counting up whistles and asking for clarification, then names for each of the sixty-five who wanted to move to Mars. There was a listing of what skills they had as well, as far as jobs went and what they’d be comfortable doing.

  “Not that we won’t move to what is required of us here. I fear that we’re considered trouble makers on the world ships.” The woman tensed then, as if expecting to be told that their contributions might not be welcome.

  Willum shrugged.

  “Oh? Why is that?”

  Half of the Ysidril started to bounce in place, meaning they were thinking of a good answer. Then, instead of creatively lying, they spoke to one another carefully, in their own language. Finally deciding to simply share the whole story. Out in the grand hallway of the First City of Mars.

  It was the boss woman who went again, even if she wasn’t really in charge at all. Her eyes locked with Willum directly, though she went very still. It was the kind of thing that her people tended to do when shocked or surprised. Possibly when frightened as well.

  “Thousands of years ago, when we left the formerly lost home world, our sub-group classification was looked down upon. A thing which lessened over time in the new fleet, but that was maintained. We hold to the old ways of our people, which are not thought to be correct now. We believe certain things, such as in the sentience of the universe. The others, not thinking that true, though they have not proven or disproven such, prevent us from moving forward easily in life. This has caused us to become insular and to hold to our own, making us estranged from our new people. We hope that by coming here, we can find a way to improve on that. To join society without losing our own way.”

  “Oh.” Will looked at them, then shrugged. He had no way of translating the move into their body language style however. “We allow all religions here. As long as what you believe doesn’t harm anyone else, you can hold to it without issue. We need to get you rooms. Also, you should learn the language here. We tend to work in Standard. Are you willing to do that?”

  There was a stillness that moved across the whole group and for a half second he wondered if that, learning the ways of others, was against their religion. Half of them laughed though, in their own way. It looked a bit fierce, showing all those teeth in their rather doglike snouts, but the feeling from them wasn’t intensely negative at all.

  The one in the front, who had a hissing name, moved in to hug Will. Then everyone else started doing that, including Eva.

  “We’re being invited to learn your customs and language? Instead of being told that we must give our old ways up?”

  “Right. We allow all religions and traditions here. Really, we, the people of Earth, have several groups that seem to believe things in a fashion very close to your own. Different, no doubt, but you might find that you have people there, even if you knew it not.”

  As they walked, following Eva, since she knew where the empty living spaces were and how to assign them, they practiced Standard. The Ysidril didn’t pick it up instantly, but as a collective they also didn’t seem to need fifty reminders of what to say, either. Four seemed to do it for them, at least for the time being. It wasn’t until they moved to get the others from the ship, hours later, that he realized that the blue of their eyes wasn’t natural at all. They were coverings that allowed them to see words and sigils, overlaid on the world.

  One of the men, who had moved in early on and stood there, trying very hard to pick up Standard, explained the basic idea to him.

  “We use blue and green colors for our system. It is… We are not welcome on the main one. Our… Thoughts, being…” He hissed a few words, asking for correction or knowledge.

  Will had to work some things out himself, to come up with a phrase that more or less fit.

  “Discordant?”

  Then they moved into a conversation about the meaning of that idea, with the Ysidril he was talking to finally bobbing in place for a bit.

  “That. Discordant. We refuse to give up our beliefs, and until we do, we are not welcome in the system of the others, so we made our own.”

  Pushing them even deeper into isolationism, no doubt.

  Willum didn’t find it exciting, but after they had everyone from the ship safely put in rooms, he collected them all in a meeting chamber with Eva. Then went over the laws on Mars, how to deal with humans and their strange ways, and did all of it while teaching every single one of them for fifteen hours every bit of Standard their minds could hold. If they got tired, or felt abused by the program, they didn’t let it show.

  Then he sighed.

  “That should be enough for you to learn on your own now. Each day… Until you all know our language and customs, you should report here. Eva, can you do that? Teach them?” He didn’t really know if that was a thing that the magical girl could do, but she smiled and bobbed in place.

  It was cute on her.

  “We can get that done. Thanks for coming, Will. I… We all, can call on you in case of emergency?”

  He blinked, but then spread his hands out.

  “Well, you can. I’m not really certain how you found me the first time. I’m not listed in the network. I’ll come or contact people at need for you, if I’m in this world.” That meant explaining things to the new Ysidril, the religious ones, so tha
t they’d understand he wasn’t lazy.

  “I was allowed special training, so that I can take messages to other realities. Places similar to this, but different.” He was willing to go on, but there was a lot of bobbing and smiling going on, the nearly closed mouth kind which meant that the Ysidril were really happy.

  Clasping her hands, the one that he thought of as being the leader, even if she literally couldn’t be, sounded nearly giddy in her deep voice.

  “Your people have traveled to other parts of the collective? Proving that the grand whole is not mere theory? This is…”

  Then there was a high pitched single tone from her. Several others joined in. He didn’t get it at all, but they didn’t seem to be attacking. The Ysidril didn’t have violence really, so it wouldn’t be that, even if they were upset. That didn’t match the feeling, however. When they were silent, Eva explained to them, using Standard.

  It was her job, after all.

  “There are many worlds, some very different than our own, others very similar. A few beings, including some from here, have learned to pass between these spaces. Our people call them line walkers, but there are other methods that allow that kind of travel to take place. Willum is the one tasked with taking messages from one world to another. Dareg Canton, my father, is also such a person. There are one or two others who can make such trips that are from here. It is a very rare talent.”

  Willum was able to get free of the room then, since excited or not, the Ysidril present seemed to figure that he might have other things to do. Which he honestly did. The first part was heading back to his tower on Earth. Then, if he had time, he needed to shower and change his clothing before going to find Gwen Harrison in her world.

  It wasn’t until he was back at his own home that he recalled a need to also put his disguise on, so that Baron Harrison wouldn’t feel poorly about Will working with his wife. The only difference was that he made his hair a more normal brown color and went to brown eyes for the day.

  Orange was kind of a game that he’d put forward, based only on Alice’s last name and color preferences. Matching Gwen’s coloration a little more closely would probably be the better idea for the day. The face was the one that she’d seen already, however. Clothing wise… Well, he didn’t really know what to do for that, to be honest.

  Blinking, thinking to himself before entering the node space, Willum nodded. The trick would be in going to find his new friend, but working in from a distance. That, just going to her, was easy enough. The work portion would be in backing off, away from her, while remaining able to locate where he was supposed to be. Otherwise he might come into place in her bedchamber or restroom. Avoiding that would be a good idea, he had to figure.

  That meant using his red transport hut as a node space, then finding Gwen’s place of business, in her world. It was where she intended him to go anyway. It was a finer idea to capture, sitting in the nothingness between realities. Normally he ran lines built of intent that were attached to packages or letters that he was able to physically touch. This time it was all about him finding a line in his own memory.

  Willum ended up contemplating his deepest self for a long time before working out where exactly he had to go. Smiling, he stepped through, into the world that was desired. Then he looked around, to see what he could figure out.

  There was a city street, which was normal seeming enough to him. That was made of something like concrete, instead of asphalt like in some worlds he’d been in. The road was smooth and a pale gray in color. There were buildings on either side of the road, with dips along the way, making the whole thing seem scalloped. A single carriage moved along the way. The driver was up top, as was normal, but the horses weren’t there at all.

  Instead there was a tiny box in the front, with wheels on either side. Two of them, making the whole thing seem a bit like a rather nice black carriage over all. Looking at him, even in his funny velvet clothing, the man up top touched the brim of his hat while looking at Will. It was, from the feeling, a bit of a salute. Lacking a hat, he couldn’t do that back at the moment, so nodded his head, hoping it was considered polite enough.

  The man didn’t cry out in alarm, though his gaze lingered. That was probably due to the funny clothing he had on. The driver was in all black and gray, but the other men on the street were dressed differently. Their clothing was shinier, with the basic form being more like a business suit than anything else.

  It took him several examples to work out what the pattern really was. The men all wore jackets that had buttons on them. Those seemed to be of wood or bone, instead of metal. The cloth was shiny, but not silk, exactly. It held a heavier feel to it. The shirts under that tended to be either white or gray. Every man had a hat on.

  Many had mustaches, with a few holding to beards of different sizes. The younger men tended to be clean shaved, thankfully. He could back that one up without using his disguise amulet. Carefully he changed his clothing, attempting to make it look real and fit in perfectly.

  The striped pattern was made to look like metal in places. Soft silver with gold worked into it. He didn’t add a lot of wrinkles, since no one had those, on the street. His shoes were black and polished, but the kind that tied on the top. No one seemed to notice him making these changes as he moved, walking on the side of the road, which was a raised, but slightly slanted patch of poured stone. A design meant to keep puddles from forming, he didn't doubt. It was a good idea.

  The place he needed to be was down the street in front of him, he thought. There was a soft line of intent that lead toward a building. One that, from the outside, seemed different than the others there. There was a sign that had letters on it, though he couldn’t read the word. WGN. If he were to make a guess it would be wagon, in English. There was a circular drive, for that kind of conveyance, right out front.

  Still, it was where he was supposed to be, it seemed, so going to the wooden door, he opened the thing. Not certain if he were supposed to knock first. There was a bell, a real thing on a hook, but he didn't use that. From the look of the chain, a corroded and weathered thing, very few people ever touched it. The door itself had been painted a nice emerald green color. It wasn’t gem like, truly, and seemed a bit clumsily done. There were lines showing that it had been painted before, but not stripped properly before the last time it had been done.

  Inside, rather than being met with guards, attack or even hard glares, there was simply a woman behind a desk, off to his right. She looked up at him and smiled.

  “Why, hello! May I help you today?” There was a placard on her desk that named her as Janine, and she seemed a bit older. In her forties, perhaps, so not old at all. Her hair had no gray in it, being a soft brown. The eyes were blue, which in his world would indicate noble blood.

  He had no clue what it would mean in Gwen’s world.

  He answered in the same language, which was English. The accent was a bit different, so he paid attention to that part of things, closely.

  “Hello! I’m Will Baker… Um, here to meet Gwen Harrison, Baroness Harrison, for her…” He shook his head, then was honest, since that had been the plan for the day. “To be truthful with you, I don’t know what she has planned. I’m from a different world.” Those words got an interested look, not a glare or anything disbelieving, so he went on. “She mentioned a telesar program? I have to admit, I don’t know exactly what that is.”

  The lady, who sounded a bit different than Gwen had when she’d spoken, being more clipped in places and emphasizing all of the vowels individually as she spoke, smiled at him.

  “Oh, this is the correct place then. Mrs. Harrison’s program will begin in three hours. I could… Would you like some coffee or tea while you wait? If you look through the window there, you can see others doing a program. Alfred Saad is on right now. He tends to focus on the news of the day. Will Werner will be up after that, with Brian Weathers and Gwen Harrison on at twelve.”

  It was interesting, finding that his name wasn’t
that odd, even in a different reality. Trying to seem pleasant, he smiled back at the lady, his face a little stiff from the disguise he had on.

  “Tea would be lovely.” He tried to get the accent right, though he was going to need to listen to people speaking more in order to really get that down.

  As expected, the lady got up and moved to a back space, where from the sound of it, tea making supplies were kept. He could hear the water pouring and then after a few moments, the scent of leaf water. It was a darker thing than he would have expected, but didn’t have an unpleasant air to it.

  There was, as suggested, a window to the right, showing a room where a man was sitting. He didn't have a hat on, showing his partially balding head. Will followed suit, in case taking the head covering off was required of him. It was, at least hopefully allowed at least. He made it vanish, since it was part of his clothing amulet. Putting it down wouldn’t work, if he got too far from the thing. The man inside the boxy room, which had a door to the right-hand side, a plain wooden looking thing, could be heard.

  He didn’t make it hard, since his voice was raised a good bit.

  “I cannot believe this! First we have to fight a war against those heathens from Europa, now we’re supposed to host their kind here? True, a troop of performers, not their leaders, but still! I cannot believe it!” The man seemed to be reading from something on the table. A flat sheet with words on it and several layers of thickness. The paper was a soft gray color, and there were pictures in places. Upside down ones from where he was standing, but the man didn’t really even look up from the thing.

  “Also, right here on page three… It seems that even more road work will be planned for early fall? Once again streets will be closed to through traffic, so that the roads can be kept smooth and tidy for those very few who can afford to ride, instead of walking as proper men and women do? I know that upkeep is important, but we need to find a better way!”

  The man seemed to be taking pleasure in being upset about almost everything he read about.