by C. R. Daems
“Get the others and come back here. We need to discuss your problem. I think I may be able to help.” They nodded briefly and shuffled away, eyes downcast.
An hour later, they sat at my table. No one looked happy.
“What’s the problem, Jaelle?” I wanted them to verbalize their feelings. Although I thought I understood the problem, I wanted to be certain before I offered advice.
“I’m carrying around a useless thing!” she barely whispered. The others nodded agreement. A couple shrugged.
“And you would like to get rid of ‘it’?”
There was a poignant silence.
“Yes,” Petar eventually replied.
“I understand. I felt the same way the first week. Now you couldn’t pry Thalia out of me. That’s the name we agreed on for her.” I paused to look around the table. “If you’re willing, I’ll try to help. Each day I’ll give you an exercise. At the end of the day, we’ll meet back here at 1800 hours to discuss it.” Most nodded, some shrugged. “Tomorrow’s exercise is to walk around pointing or looking at things, while saying or thinking its name. You don’t have to talk out loud, but you can if it seems more natural.”
* * * *
The group met with Thalia and me each day. By the end of four days, they were smiling.
“All right, two more exercises. First pick a name for your Riss. Zann picked Danu from Celtic Gods; I picked Thalia, the muse of comedy, because she has a terrible sense of humor. She thinks everything’s amusing.”
I felt the lie and her smile. She couldn’t even lie properly.
I hadn’t thought about it before, but mind-to-mind communication would make it impossible. You can’t really lie to yourself.
“The second part is to let your Riss learn how to take control of your body. It won’t be pleasant, but the benefits are enormous.”
“What! No way. We’re the masters,” Aldric said, his eyes narrow and lips tight in anger.
“You’re on your own now. Good luck.”
* * * *
We were required to meet every day with one or more councilors for evaluation and counseling. I was questioned, examined, and counseled by people who knew nothing about what I was experiencing or what should be considered normal. The only exception was Vice Admiral Zann, who visited periodically. With the remainder of the day free, Thalia and I were allowed to do as we pleased within the confines of the building.
I assumed she’d insisted on calling me little one because I was tiny compared to the Gorillai.
This was the seventh or eighth time the mini-Fugenie in the snack room had produced the wrong order.
Off to the library we went. Studying with Thalia gave reading a new meaning, which I struggled to master. While I read, my thoughts and Thalia’s commingled. It eventually produced a winner—sometimes Thalia and sometimes me. At first it gave me a headache; however, as time passed, things seemed to speed up and began to occur almost simultaneously. In the process I found that while the Riss had no written language, Thalia had a phenomenal ability to grasp new concepts. It would have taken only a few hours to absorb the theory and develop a reasonable hypothesis on how to correct the problem, if we hadn’t had to adjust to our new method of thinking.
During those days, we discovered a mutual love of exploration. That evening a maintenance man interrupted us while we had the mini-Fugenie completely dismantled and spread over two tables. Since it was late at night, it was the next day before he could report us to a councilor. By then Thalia and I had the mini-Fugenie reassembled and were gorging on ice cream. After learning what had happened, our councilors decided we were fully integrated and a good match.
Not all of us adapted. One man and one woman had to be returned to Saipha, to have their Riss transferred to a new Gorillai, since the original Gorillai host had died when the Riss transferred into the human. The Gorillai as a Riss-free animal had been extinct for over a thousand years. The current Gorillai were reproduced by the Riss exclusively to provide hosts for the next generation. In this case two new Gorillai would have to be produced to recover the two Riss from the returning Riss-humans.
Our evaluation over, we were enrolled in Eden’s fleet academy, Prometheus, a four-year college devoted to producing SAS Navy and Army officers. I didn’t know what to expect. Would the Rh tattoo mark me as special or an outcast? Tomorrow I would know.
Chapter 3
For realism and to acclimate the cadets to life aboard a spaceship, Prometheus replicated an SAS cruiser in shape and environment. There were no windows, and the rooms were positioned and named consistent with the layout of a typical cruiser.
I’d entered Dante’s inferno. The senior-class cadets took delight in hassling the freshmen, claiming it a right of passage; however, for me—a Riss-human—it proved a trial by ordeal. Few understood the Riss-human concept beyond it being a parasite. Through hate, fear, or repulsion, they felt the need to prove me inferior or defective. Every senior who saw me in the hallway stood me at attention, having me repeat standard responses, answer personal questions, or ridicule and berate me about my physical appearance. Only Thalia saved me from being expelled, which of course was my tormentors’ intention. She found it amusing.
“Plebe! Attention!” a short chubby-faced senior shouted. After identifying him as a senior, I braced to attention.
“Wipe that ridiculous tattoo from your face. Facial decoration is against navy regulations,” Chubby said, trying to look threatening.
Naturally, Thalia laughed, which didn’t help me maintain the required blank expression.
“Sir. You should write me up and report me to the Commandant. Sir.” By now, Thalia had convinced me to play the game. They were just inferior humans. We were high-Riss and, therefore, superior.
“Are you being a smartass, Plebe? Kneel, Plebe! Kneel before me.”
“No, Sir. It’s your duty to report anyone who’s in violation of regulations. Sir.” I knelt.
“Kiss my feet, Plebe.” He smiled.
“Sir. That would be against regulations, Sir. I would have to report you, Sir.”
Day after day of demands that went well beyond hassling. With Thalia’s help, I not only endured, but I began to find it amusing. It became a duel of wits. There were limits they couldn’t exceed, and it became fun to watch their rising frustration.
I continued to exercise, since Eden’s gravity still bothered me. The navy gym became intolerable. The upper classmen wouldn’t leave me alone, taking every opportunity to leer and to insult me physically. In frustration, one morning I went to the army gym. When I arrived, I received lots of stares, heard whispers, but no one hassled me. The few seniors I encountered ignored me or had reasonable demands, which were almost perfunctory. From then on I used their gym, and they soon began to ignore me. One day while going through my daily routine, I saw what looked like a fight. I joined others who’d gathered to watch. Although violent, the fight looked like a graceful dance.
I stopped one of the soldiers after the fight was over. “Excuse me. Was that a real fight?”
He laughed. “No. That was Si’jin. A modern form of fighting taken from several of the ancient forms of martial arts. They’re all masochist.”
The Si’jin classes were held every morning before school classes started. I became a regular spectator. One morning, a man, who appeared to be the class instructor, approached
me. He was tall and lanky with a narrow, clean-shaven face and short-cut black hair.
I relaxed a bit.
“Cadet. You seem to be here most mornings watching. Why?”
“Sir. There’s a beauty in your movements. Sir.” I rose to attention and waited for the hassling to begin.
“I’m Master Gunnery Sergeant Talman. You may address me as ‘Gunny,’ but never, Sir. Why are you working out and why here?”
“Sir...Gunny. The gravity on my home planet is two-thirds Eden’s and SAS ships. I’m trying to get adjusted. I exercise here because the army seniors are...less abusive. Gunny.”
“One ‘Gunny’ will do. Would you like to join the class?”
“Gunny. Yes. Gun—”
“Yes, Gunny, will do. I’m not a cadet. If the others have no objections, you can.” He turned and walked back to the group. I thought my tattoo would almost guaranty the answer would be “No.”
Gunny walked back and nodded. “They’ve agreed conditionally. They want time to evaluate you before they reach a final decision. Every morning at 0600 hours, unless your duties interfere.” He turned and walked back to the class, dismissing me.
The next day, I showed up ten minutes early. The class included eight students: one senior, two sophomores, one freshman, one Lieutenant, and three sergeants. The army personnel were assigned to teach various courses to the army cadets. The sergeants’ and Lieutenant’s attitudes varied from indifference to curious. The sophomores and freshman accepted me with some reservation. Most treated me as just another student. They were bigger and stronger, and rough, but it wasn’t personal. The senior, on the other hand, was cruel and clearly hated me. I knew he had agreed only because he wanted to punish me—and he took every opportunity he could. When he demonstrated a technique, he made sure he caused me as much pain as possible, but not so much that it would cause Talman to interfere.
In spite of all the pain, I loved it. There was a dynamic beauty in the movements of those students who’d several years of Si’jin experience. I made Si’jin my goal, regardless of the pain.
The number of knots on a person’s belt showed his or her Si’jin proficiency. I was surprised to find that my tormentor ranked moderately high in the class. All four students had four knots, the army Lieutenant and sergeants, five. I had none and didn’t care. The strenuous morning workout calmed me for what was to come afterward. Over the months, I slowly became accepted, and the class became interested in the Riss and me. I willingly answered questions about being a Riss-human in exchange for information about their classes and duties. It surprised me that they found the Riss-human concept interesting rather than repulsive. My nemeses never participated.
In the second semester of my freshman year, Thalia was having trouble keeping up with the bruises the senior was inflicting.
The tormenting senior was repeatedly using a triple technique which ended in an elbow to my head. Each time it spun me around and I hit the floor.
“You’re a slow learner, Reese,” He grinned. “Up and we’ll try it again.”
My Riss prompted.
I rotated right as his right elbow approached, which normally struck me in the head. I continued spinning. As I completed the three hundred and sixty-degree turn, I drove my elbow into his ribs. He doubled in pain. I followed with an elbow to his back. As he straightened with the pain, I swept his feet out from under him. He landed hard on his back. Knee first, I fell onto his chest and rolled away.
“Yes, I believe I’ve finally learned that move,” I said, watching him on the floor with his arms wrapped around his body. Everyone looked over; many were grinning. Talman had been watching. He said nothing.
For the rest of the semester we continued our vendettas. Every three to five techniques, I’d surprise him with a violent counterattack. He became very careful, not sure when or how I would strike. My bruises lessened but didn’t stop. Fortunately, he was a senior and would be gone at the end of the year.
* * * *
Most of my school instructors ignored me. Those wouldn’t acknowledge me when I had a question. Naturally, a few were repulsed. They tended to look for ways to try to make me look foolish. Thalia found it amusing. It became a challenge to make sure we were prepared with several days material in advance. They soon quit. Only one seemed curious. He selected me more often than others to answer questions and spent extra time exploring my responses. I felt it an attempt to evaluate rather than to embarrass.
Before I could rise to leave the class, one of my ignore me instructors approached.
“I’d appreciate it if you would stop trying to ask questions in class, cadet. If you don’t know the answer, I suggest you study harder. Then you won’t have to disrupt the class.” He was an elderly Lieutenant Commander. Raw hate emanated from him.
I couldn’t help but smile. Totally inappropriate but I couldn’t help it. Thalia refused to stop it.
I mentally shook my head.
“What are you smiling at, cadet? I can have you up on report for disrespect.” His voice rose as he spoke, and his face turned a shade of pink.
“Sir, I smiled because I realize that you’re right. I do need to spend more time on my books.”
“My Riss has just pointed out that there seem to be a lot of us in your class who need to study harder, Sir.”
“You’re close to being on report... Whatever your name.” He’d turned from pink to red and shook his finger at me. “Shut up or I’ll have you on report.”
Her laugh rippled through my body. Fortunately, she stopped me from laughing. From that time on, I attended classes but never talked except to Thalia. It was less trouble and more informative to get the answers from the extensive online library.
Several of my instructors began giving me extra projects as punishment for some unknown infraction. My workload increased dramatically. I assumed they’d gotten together and decided to push me beyond my limit. Ironically, I enjoyed the opportunity to expand my studies outside the lectures, which could be dull when no one would talk to you.
Between the classes, extra projects, and Si’jin, I had little time for anything else. Thalia suggested I sleep only six hours a night. I didn’t like the idea of being tired for my classes; however, she did something that sent me to sleep instantly and kept me from dreaming so much. When I woke, I felt rested and refreshed. Thus my freshman year ended.
Most cadets left school to visit relatives, friends, or vacation somewhere. I had no relatives, my friends were on another planet, and the reaction of the cadets had given me an insight into the probable reaction of the civilian population. They wouldn’t be restrained by the rules imposed at the academy.
* * * *
My second year improved, if for no other reason than most of the seniors left me alone; those who didn’t I could ignore without recourse. By now everyone in the school had an opinion of the Riss-humans. Although I had new instructors, it soon became apparent they’d discussed me and formed an opinion before I walked into the class. Life remained the same. The extra projects continued and seemed designed to drive me out of the school. Since I had no real friends outside the Si’ji
n class, Thalia and I appreciated the extra work to expand our knowledge. Thalia could have stayed awake for days at a time, if my body hadn’t needed sleep. She suggested I cut back to three hours sleep a night. We compromised at five, which proved adequate.
I enjoyed my Si’jin classes and earned two knots. Although not much above a beginner, I felt like I had made Lieutenant Commander.
* * * *
My third year improved a little more. The extra projects kept coming; however, for the most part, they felt more like an attempt to evaluate rather than to punish or break me. If not totally accepted, the Riss-humans were less of a novelty and pretty much ignored.
I continued to be fascinated with Si’jin and earned my third knot. It identified me as a novice with some experience. I improved as my experience increased and began scoring occasionally against the four-knot sergeants. I only survived because Thalia worked her magic, reducing the swelling and repairing most of the damage.
I felt at ease in the army gym, because the people there were more tolerant of me. At times, I felt like I was in the army. I’d also been unconditionally accepted as a member of the Si’jin class. New students joined, but they had no say about my status. Outside the Si’jin classes, I still got plenty of snide remarks, ugly looks, and a few threats, which never materialized. Although it hurt, I was getting used to it.
Amusement tingled through me. By now I expected no less from her. Thalia had been a good choice of names.
* * * *
I returned from a workout late one evening and found the room empty. Although it was strange, I thought nothing about it. The door burst open just as I had finished getting ready for bed. Three cadets came in and closed the door.
“Well, the bitch, oh, I mean the Riss is all ready for us. With the Riss helping, she should be able to give each of us a couple of rounds.” They laughed and the tall man in the middle began stripping. “You’re not going to do anything, bitch. My father’s on Eden’s council, and I’ve witnesses that you invited us to have sex. You’ll be expelled if you say anything.”
