Diverse Similarity

by Sharon Rose

  “It’s a shame there’s no Human to dance with you to your own music, Kena. I suspect Quon’s version of the waltz would not be seen on Earth.”

  Kena smiled. “He didn’t do so bad for a first try.”

  Generous, perhaps. “Did you choose the Human music for the gala?”

  “Yes. Opyera asked me to.”

  “Amazingly diverse,” Ghent said, “but I didn’t hear any vocal music.”

  “No.”

  Her reply didn’t surprise him, except in its brevity. He’d overheard Kena decline a request to sing. Since Humans were the only race that could produce music from within their bodies, novelty placed it in high demand. It was said to be very beautiful. But she hadn’t even included vocal recordings.

  “Don’t you miss it?” Ghent asked.

  Kena shook her head. “I often play it in my quarters.”

  “Why not here?”

  “The words are all in my own language.”

  The spark had left her eyes. She wasn’t telling him something.

  “Our directive to speak a common language is not that rigid. Could we enjoy musical voice without understanding the words?”

  “You could,” Kena said, “but I assure you, Prednians will want translation. The words are nuanced poetry. They may sound literal, but often contain quite different meanings. Delivery style modifies them even more. Translations can be nothing short of appalling.”

  “I’ve watched you with Prednians. It never seems that their—shall we call it curiosity—disturbs you.”

  “I don’t usually let it. Even though it can get overwhelming, their interest in others is truly welcoming and inclusive.” Her brow lifted. “On the other hand, I’ve had them translate one of my songs, so I do know what I’m talking about. When will I get to hear Plynteth music?”

  That subject change was abrupt—at least for Kena. Just how appalling had that translation been? Enough for her to formally claim cultural interference? Hard to envision her going that far. But apparently, he’d asked too much, so he followed her lead. “I told Opyera to play it near the end, and only a few pieces. Plynteth music is not widely appreciated.”

  “There won’t be any Plynteth to dance with you either,” she said.

  “We are one of the few races who don’t dance.”

  Kena tilted her head. “Still, no one to enjoy your music with you.”

  Ghent sensed an unspoken question. “True, but I plan to soon add a Plynteth astro biologist to the crew.”

  Kena raised her arched brows. “Someone specific, I gather?”

  “My wife. She will bring our son, as well.” There was her sudden blink. He’d thought that would surprise.

  “Ah! I didn’t realize. Has he been too young to leave Plynteth?”

  “Yes.” Ghent smiled at her understanding. “Is there any race you have not studied?”

  “No known race,” she said, “but I am sure there’s a great deal I do not know.”

  “Does it seem strange to you that we keep our children on Plynteth throughout childhood?”

  “Not in the least. The only reason my parents returned to Earth was so their children would be raised there.” She tilted her head, the corners of her eyes narrowing. “You see? Even Humans and Plynteth have similarities.”

  He chuckled and turned to Remlishos, his chief engineering officer and second in command.

  Remlishos greeted Kena with his formal Meklehon bow, which she returned before moving away. “May I have a moment to link with you, sir?”

  Ghent’s need for Remlishos had increased in the wake of Frethan’s death. Their telepathic links to exchange information had become so commonplace, they no longer even needed the audible cue they had used in the past. Ghent engaged the link and absorbed the offered knowledge.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Unnatural silence echoed in the crowded astro section. A disquiet so intense, it even permeated the emfrel.

  Kena stared at the display, as did every scientist and most of the navigators from all three shifts. Shared eagerness pulled them in to see the first short-range scans of the SMG76428 system—to know what it really looked like now that they were out of dimensional slip and close enough for detail.

  Kena leaned close to Hrndl and murmured, “Could have done without this.”

  Hrndl responded with a silent nod.

  Netlyn compiled numerous scans into live-action composites, rich with symbolized detail far beyond what the unaided eye could detect. Brilliant, as usual. Pity that the contents were pure chaos.

  The two planets had fragmented into much smaller pieces than expected. Kena wouldn’t have cared so much if the debris had followed predictable paths. By now, it should be scattered enough for reasonably safe maneuvering, even at high speeds. Instead, fragments of all shapes and sizes jostled one another within the 3-D display. Speeds and direction appeared completely random.

  She glanced around to gauge other reactions. Scientists glanced uneasily from the display to the navigators’ somber faces.

  “This can’t possibly be correct,” an astro physicist said. “How can the debris be traveling in so many different directions? It’s even heading inward and counter-orbit.”

  “Subsequent collisions, maybe,” Jorlit said.

  “But the debris would have radiated outward from the original explosions. Collisions should have been rare—not nearly enough to produce a maelstrom like this.”

  “No, I wouldn’t think so,” Jorlit said, “but something is causing it. The data is accurate, whether we understand it or not.”

  Betnorel, a Prednian scientist, spoke up. “The speeds are a significant anomaly, too. Netlyn, are you using standard coloration for velocity indicators?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Kena offered her a sympathetic smile. As if Netlyn didn’t have enough to deal with, now she had to put up with insulting questions.

  Piert moved close to Delf. “What do you think of the scanning results?” he asked in an undertone. “Are they being correctly interpreted?”

  Kena could only hope his words hadn’t reached Netlyn’s ears.

  Delf didn’t keep his voice down. “Netlyn is overseeing the scanning. You can balance your life on the accuracy. Believe me, when she sees velocity variations this extreme, she’s checking both the data and the interpretation.”

  Netlyn turned her head toward Delf and mouthed the words Thank you.

  He answered her with only his lopsided grin.

  Piert raised his voice. “Science team.”

  The murmured arguments around the room came to an abrupt halt.

  He strolled among them, pivoting to address everyone. “We came here to solve a mystery. Now, a bigger mystery than we expected. We have two choices. We can deny that what we’re looking at is reality. Comfortable, perhaps.” He flicked his hands outward. “But we’ll learn nothing. Or we can acknowledge the facts and get to work on solving the riddle. Anyone who wants to stay ignorant is dismissed. Those willing to work on a solution—we’ll convene in the science section.” He turned on his heel and left.

  Once the door slid shut behind the last of the scientists, Ghent addressed the navigators. “I’m sure you all realize our earlier projections are useless. We must find a method to predict trajectories. Start searching for patterns. Krdn and Netlyn, join me. Let’s find a meaningful way to divide this mess up for study.”

  Hours later, they were still at it. A subtle change enveloped the navigators. Perhaps it was the snug nav suits they had all donned that morning—ready for immediate external missions. Or perhaps the result of switching from simulation to reality. Discussions broke out from time to time, all seasoned with the understanding that lives would soon hang in the balance. Kena absorbed them in silence, intent on the scenario she studied.

  Hrndl put a hand on her shoulder. “Second meal has already begun.”

  “I need to finish this,” Kena said, glancing up at Hrndl in her beige nav suit. It emphasized her straight, slender fi
gure.

  “All of this debris will still be here after meal. You need to eat, though I admit, not as much as I do. Please join me.”

  Kena stood and arched her back.

  Hrndl’s gaze moved down Kena’s charcoal gray nav suit, much the same as Hrndl’s, but designed for Human curves. Her eyes lingered on the belt, which hid the waistband and made the suit look like a single garment from neck to ankles. “I’m not used to seeing you without a tunic.”

  “I know,” Kena said, side-stepping away from her console. “Thank you for not looking shocked.”

  “No chance of that.” Hrndl turned for the door. “I’ve seen your face when people stare and then look at anything but you. Besides, I already made that mistake the first day we ate together.”

  Kena hoped everyone in the astro section was listening. “I’d like to find all references to the Human female figure in all the interracial training material and delete them.”

  “Something must be said about a difference that obvious. What would you replace them with?”

  “Don’t touch the front of a woman’s chest. Period. Nothing more. Making a big deal about not looking is ridiculous! Who goes around avoiding looking at Ghent’s hands? People notice the difference, then it’s ordinary.”

  A couple Prednians stared with their customary arrested expression, their rounded eyes almost perfect circles. Her exact words would be repeated all over the ship in a matter of hours.

  Kena checked the Grfdn table as soon as they entered the dining hall. The expressions on Rnl’s and Frdn’s faces changed from disconsolate to eager, much like actors in a farce. Dhgnr sat with his back to the door.

  Kena helped herself at the buffet. Hrndl stayed with her even though an array of dishes awaited her on the Grfdn table. Typical. At least Rnl had learned manners a few days ago, when he’d tried taking Hrndl’s arm to draw her away from Kena. Hrndl’s Grfdn reply drove him backward a full meter. Kena tried to ignore all such interactions, but they grew tiresome.

  The seating arrangement was also repeated from the last few days. Dhgnr sat in the center on one side, causing Hrndl and Kena to separate at the table. Hrndl had objected to this at first, but Dhgnr seemed to have a purpose, so Kena complied. Besides, it placed her as far from Rnl as possible. A definite advantage.

  Kena had assumed Dhgnr wanted better opportunity to talk with Hrndl, but he rarely said a word to her. Instead, he conversed with Kena—while watching the other two men. As always, he had a topic ready the instant she took her seat.

  “You were assigned to the Baktel, were you not?” he asked, passing a water flask to her.

  “Yes. Why do you ask?” Kena filled her glass. At least this table held Human-style drinkware rather than Prednian. The Grfdn still wouldn’t use their native drinking pouches. Talk about stubborn!

  “A friend of mine was recently on the Baktel,” Dhgnr said. “Nlnr. Did you meet him?”

  “Ah, yes,” Kena said, cutting her food into tiny pieces. “A dimensional physicist. He disembarked when I arrived, but I met him at the space station. We had a rather interesting conversation.”

  “About what?”

  “The nature of T1 and T2 dimensional linkage,” Kena said, “and a couple of theories for why it disengages at the boundaries of a dimensional rift.”

  “Ah!”

  Kena tilted her head. “Your friend is really quite brilliant.”

  Dhgnr turned to her, a smile lifting the skin beside his eyes. Unusual. “Has he made progress on that particular riddle?” he asked before taking a bite of reconstituted meat.

  “I’m not sure. He described two theories.” Kena altered her voice to a more precise speech pattern. “One of them accounts well for the observed effects. But, to his apparent chagrin, it does not answer the question of why—at least, not to his satisfaction. The other predicts certain effects that are impossible to measure. Very frustrating, I’m sure, but he seems to like the theory’s elegant explanation of causation.”

  Dhgnr uttered a soft laugh. “How well you capture Nlnr’s style. Which theory do you favor?”

  That worked rather well. She resumed her normal voice. “The first. I must admit, my practical mind had a hard time following the second.” She slipped a morsel of bread between her lips.

  “I think I’m relieved I did not have to take part in this conversation.”

  She looked sideways at him. “It was actually quite intriguing. Only a little of his discourse was too obscure to follow.”

  “You seem pleased with Nlnr,” Dhgnr said.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Why not? As a Human would say, he was good company.” A memory warmed her. “He even accessed a language translator when he was about to leave, and parted from me with the English phrase Good day.”

  Dhgnr stared at her. Not in the sneering or cold way of the other Grfdn men. His eyes widened, and his dark hairline pulled back. Intrigued, if her interracial sources were correct.

  The expression lasted only a second, for he swung around to interrupt some remark from Rnl. A moment later, he returned his attention to her. “Please forgive me for the interruption and for speaking Grfdn to them.”

  “I don’t mind,” Kena said. “By the way, I am curious about something. There were two Grfdn khn on the Baktel. Nlnr, who was part of the science staff, and another one named Drnld, who also disembarked. I understand that Drnld had no duties pertaining to the ship or the mission. Yet, there were only eight Grfdn. Even after they left, people speculated over why they needed the extra khn.”

  Dhgnr laughed in his throat. “Nlnr’s rank is high, so it wasn’t necessary. His first act before any journey from Grfdn is to select another khn to accompany him and delegate all of his duties.”

  Kena chuckled. “Did I not say that he was brilliant?”

  In that instant, Hrndl snapped back at a remark from Frdn.

  “Unfortunate that I could not follow his example on this trip,” Dhgnr murmured, clasping his tongs around the last morsel on his plate.

  Kena looked at Frdn and Rnl, then back to the glass she held. She dipped her voice an octave. “Most unfortunate!”

  Dhgnr’s tongs paused in mid-air, and he stared at her again. Something different in this expression. She hoped for a hint of his thoughts, but he looked away and slipped the food between his lips. Ugh! What was going on?

  For once, Dhgnr didn’t try to occupy her. Rnl’s voice caught her attention as he expounded the advantages of a career in resource management.

  Kena’s brows lowered as she listened to his persuasions. She kept her voice down but made no secret of how appalled she felt. “Dhgnr, is Hrndl required to change her career if her mate insists on it?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Why do they both keep talking about it?”

  It took him a moment to answer. “Navigation may be an admirable career among Humans, but Grfdn typically view it as dangerous. Suitors tend to be over-protective, hence their suggestions.” He took a quick breath. “A question occurred to me after we discussed cultures yesterday. How many languages can you speak?”

  Well! He certainly didn’t want her involved in courtship. She felt like rolling out one of those Grfdn growls, but made herself answer. “Three Human and five non-Human.”

  His hairline pulled back again as he focused on her. “You’re a navigator and have not been in space many years. How do you come by so much cultural knowledge?”

  “Humans pursue dual studies in their career training. My secondary was cultural studies. Also, my parents pursued their careers in space before I was born. My father—”

  Kena’s breath caught as Rnl included a mispronunciation of Human with some words of his own language.

  Dhgnr once again darted a glare at the two Grfdn men and snarled a reprimand.

  Frdn lowered his head, but Rnl said, “Hrndl, you deserve better company than a Human. If you want a female companion, choose from a race able to contribute something of value.

  Kena clamped her lips.
From a Grfdn viewpoint, no insult could be worse. He’d called her—indeed, all of her kind—worthless leeches.

  “Idiot!” Hrndl sneered. “Human’s produce the finest navigators, and Kena is a prime example.”

  “Our best robotics,” Dhgnr said, “are designed by Humans.”

  Frdn’s gaze steadied on Hrndl. “In communication, we use Human encryption algorithms exclusively, and their translation technology is also impressive.”

  His words were so blatantly intended to please Hrndl rather than compliment Humans, Kena had to suppress a laugh. At least it defused her anger.

  “Well, they’ve made no contributions to resource management,” Rnl said. “Besides that, they’re dangerous. They war so viciously, they would have destroyed their own planet if the Tenelli hadn’t stepped in.”

  “Oh, now that is just ridiculous.” Kena let her hand fall to the table. “You never learned that from any Human or Tenelli. What is your source?”

  “Well, you had a world-wide war for seven years, didn’t you?”

  “You’re partially right. Seven years of what you would call natural disasters, punctuated by some very shocking battles. But the Tenelli didn’t arrive until almost a decade after it ended.

  “Who did end it?” Hrndl asked.

  “Humans, of course, led by a very special Human. One capable of establishing a government of lasting peace. It’s because of him, and all who cooperate with him, that Earth is once again a lush garden. Our recovery has nothing to do with any other race.”

  Rnl’s nostrils lifted. “Only a race of war-mongers would claim ending a war as an accomplishment. And these other achievements are nothing compared to the value we—”

  Dhgnr silenced Rnl with a single Grfdn word, waited for Frdn to engage Hrndl’s attention, then turned back to Kena. “Again, I must apologize.”

  “No more apologies. The cause is quite clear. While I appreciate your courtesy in talking with me, Dhgnr, it need not be constant.”