Dawnwind 1: Last Man Standing

by George R. Shirer

  “No. When First Officer Kitos brought me aboard, he assigned me the diplomatic quarters they had intended for Earth’s ambassador.”

  “No one realized you were sleeping alone?” Iseta looked scandalized.

  John was quick to explain. “It wasn’t deliberate. I just kept odd hours. About the only people I had regular contact with were the specialists and they had other things on their minds than my sleeping arrangements.”

  “I can imagine,” said Olu.

  “It was still very rude of them not to invite you to share a bed,” said Iseta. “That’s just bad manners.”

  “After the First found out, he made the offer, but I declined.” John chuckled. “I was still trying to wrap my head around certain other Junian customs. Coed showers. Public nudity.”

  Iseta was fascinated by this latest tidbit. “Your culture had a nudity taboo?”

  “I don’t think I would have had quite the same issue with it, if so many of the female guardsmen hadn’t been so attractive,” admitted John. His face flushed.

  Iseta stared, a look of alarm in her black eyes. “John, you’ve gone all red!”

  “A blush response,” explained Olu. “He’s fine.”

  “Oh. I thought you might have been choking or something.”

  “I’m fine,” said John.

  Olu nodded. “He doesn’t do it very often. The first time I saw him turn red, I thought the same thing and thought he needed a medic.”

  “At least you didn’t comm the Emergency Authority,” said John.

  Olu laughed. “Poor Specialist Lih!”

  “What happened?” asked Iseta.

  “The specialist and I were having a perfectly nice conversation,” explained John. “When out of nowhere she produces these pornographic videobits and starts quizzing me on human sexual customs. I was caught completely off guard.”

  “He turned the most startling shade of crimson,” clarified Olu. “Lih thought he’d ruptured an artery and commed the Emergency Authority.” She started to shake with laughter, tears spilling down her cheeks. “When I walked into the daychamber, Lih and her assistant were running around like frightened scuttlebirds!”

  Iseta was laughing along with her aunt now, her entire body shaking with shared mirth. “Oh, sweet pantheon! What happened next?”

  “The medics showed up,” said John. “Dragging poor Medic Sufo with them! The way everyone acted you’d think my head had exploded and I was spraying blood all over the walls!”

  Olu wiped tears of laughter from her cheeks. “Medic Sufo insisted John come back with them to the hospital for a complete scan, just to be safe. It was unforgettable, Iseta! You should have been there!”

  * * * * *

  Vesu Oza came home from work to find John and Olu seated at the kitchen table, sipping blue tea and munching on avisav cookies. He joined them with a grateful sigh.

  “Cookie?” offered John.

  “Thank you.”

  “You look exhausted,” said Olu, squeezing his hand. “How was your day?”

  “Exhausting,” admitted Vesu. “But productive.”

  “You should take tomorrow off,” urged Olu. “Lie around the house and listen to music.”

  Vesu chuckled. “I have far too much work to do to take off an entire day.”

  “All right, but don’t blame me when your hair turns white early.”

  Vesu snorted. “Administrator Puso has invited us all to supper tomorrow evening.”

  “That’s the second time this month,” said Olu.

  “I know. I believe she’s hoping we’ll bring our guest.” He grinned at John.

  John frowned. “Have I met this administrator?”

  “Unfortunately,” said Olu. “At the reception at the university. Remember? The woman with the graying hair and the loud voice?”

  “Ah! The one who tried to get me to sign an exclusivity agreement with the university!”

  “That’s Laba Puso,” said Vesu. He chuckled and helped himself to another cookie. “I think she’s trying to impress the university council with the fact that she has access to you.”

  Olu raised her eyebrows. “Are there going to be councilors at this supper?”

  “One or two.”

  “Perhaps we should attend,” said Olu. “What do you think, John?”

  He frowned. “Is this a formal dinner?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” said Vesu. “There’s only going to be about a dozen people there.”

  “Only a dozen?” said John.

  Olu laughed. “I recognize that tone of voice. You don’t want to go.”

  “I’ve never really been one for dinner parties. Small talk bores me to tears.”

  Vesu frowned. “Small talk?”

  “Polite, trivial conversation,” clarified John.

  “Ah. Chattering.” Nodding, Vesu made a face, suggesting he was of a similar opinion.

  “I think we should go,” said Olu. “Even though I believe I understand your need for occasional solitude, John, lately you’ve been spending more and more time alone. It seems as if you’re withdrawing from the world. I’m starting to become concerned.”

  “I’m fine, Olu.”

  “And I believe you believe that,” said Olu. “But, it would ease my mind if you would spend a little more time with other people.”

  “You could take a class at the university,” suggested Vesu. “Something of personal interest, maybe. Art or music, perhaps?”

  “Do you two realize that you sound almost exactly like my parents, back when I was a teenager?” said John.

  Olu smiled and covered his hand with her own. “We did promise Kitos and Fex that we would look after you.”

  “And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” said John. “But social situations here are . . . difficult for me.”

  “How so?” asked Vesu.

  “I’m always the center of attention. Always. Everywhere I go, people stare. I’m a curiosity. The Last Human. Even in the Alien Sector, I stood out.” He sighed and looked down at the table. “After a while, it gets tiresome.”

  Olu touched his hand. “We didn’t realize it was so difficult for you.”

  “Sometimes, I just feel like a circus act,” said John. “A freak they put on display. See the Last Human! Touch his black hair! Stare into his blue eyes!”

  “I’m sorry,” said Olu. “I don’t think anyone realized you felt this way.”

  John smiled. “How are you supposed to know if I don’t tell you?”

  “That’s true. But I still think it would be a good idea for you to meet more people. You mustn’t spend all your time with boring old specialists and instructors.”

  John rolled his eyes. “I’d hardly describe my time with Specialist Lih as boring.”

  * * * * *

  Laba Puso’s home reminded John of pictures he had seen of ancient Roman villas. Several interconnected structures had been grown around a large central area. In ancient Rome, that area would have been a courtyard. Here, on Juni, it was a swimming pool.

  The pool was lit by a series of submerged lights that made the water appear luminescent. Swimmers were dark shapes, eclipsing the light, as they darted gracefully through the bright water.

  John had been envisioning a rather stuffy academic affair when Vesu mentioned the party. He hadn’t expected a pool party.

  Tables and benches had been arranged by the water. There was a buffet, offering fruits and vegetables grown in the communal garden. One of the administrator’s housemates had set up an outdoor stove and was fussing over a spicy fish soup.

  In addition to the dozen or so guests that the administrator had invited, her housemates attended. There were eight other adults and at least as many children. Most of them were in the pool, frolicking, but three of the children had laid claim to John.

  He sat on a pink stone bench, fielding their questions with wry amusement. Olu stood nearby, chatting with some of her fellow academics, giving John questioning glances. He gr
inned at her and shrugged.

  “Why is your hair black?”

  The questioner was a little girl with enormous, dark eyes. Her skull was covered by dark blue fuzz. She wore a short yellow dress covered with big orange fishes.

  “Are you sick?”

  John grinned and shook his head. “No. My hair is just black, like yours is blue.”

  “I’ve never seen anyone with black hair before.”

  A boy in his teens with short, red hair rolled his eyes. “That’s because he’s an alien, Tij. Remember what Mama Laba told us?”

  Tij’s mouth formed an ‘O’ of sudden recollection. The boy snorted and glanced at John from beneath long, dark eyelashes. “Can I touch it?”

  The little girl stared at the boy. “Oto! That’s rude!”

  “Oh hush, Tij. He’s not Junian, so it won’t matter to him. Right?” The last question was aimed at John.

  John studied the boy. “What if I said yes? Would you do it right here, in front of all these people? How do you think that would look?”

  The boy blinked and then frowned. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “You’re going through your deph-mog, aren’t you?” asked John.

  Oto shrugged, and sprawled on the cream-colored marble. “The medic says I’m almost through it.”

  “Have you been to the surgeon-barber yet?”

  The boy shivered and sat up, all trace of languor gone. “Papa says I won’t have to go, not for another two months.”

  “Your hair is coming in very nicely,” said John.

  Oto preened. “It won’t be as long as mama’s, but that’s all right. I think long hair would be too much bother.”

  “It is,” said John. “I let mine grow long once, just to see how it would look, but I didn’t like it so I cut it all off.”

  The children stared at him with fascinated horror.

  “That must have hurt!” said Tij. She dropped to the ground and slid underneath Oto’s arm, snuggling up to him.

  “Human hair isn’t like Junian hair. It doesn’t have nerves.”

  “It doesn’t?” Oto looked fascinated and appalled at once. “So you can’t feel anything with it?”

  “Nothing,” said John. “If I went to the surgeon-barber, he wouldn’t even have to numb it. He could just start cutting.”

  Oto and Tij shivered.

  “You have funny eyes.”

  John turned, smiled at a little boy of about six years. The child had climbed out of the pool to join the others, and stood in front of John wearing nothing but a big, soft towel draped over his shoulders like a cloak.

  “That’s because they’re blue,” said John. “Not black. See?” He leaned forward and opened his eyes wide.

  The little boy stared into his face, and then nodded with solemn gravity.

  “You’re a very observant bunch,” said John, leaning back on the bench. “But I’m surprised none of you have asked me about my hands.” He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers.

  “You’ve got talons!” said Oto, delighted.

  John laughed and held out his hands for them to inspect. “Actually, we call them fingernails.”

  “Do you use them to hunt with?” asked Oto.

  “No,” said John. “They used to be used for defense, but now they’re just leftovers.”

  Delicately, the children touched his nails and John was grateful he’d let them grow out a bit. One of the household adults wandered over and smiled at the group.

  “Tij. Fen. Have you children eaten yet? It’ll be time for bed soon.”

  There were the usual childish protests at this news, met with benevolent disregard. The two youngest children were led away.

  Oto yawned, stretched and stood. “I’m going for a swim. Do you want to come?”

  “I think I’ll go see if the stew is ready yet,” said John.

  The boy shrugged and slid out of his shorts. “As you like.” Naked, he dove into the pool, sliding through the water like a sleek, dark fish.

  “You did well with the pups,” said a throaty, feminine voice.

  Turning, John saw a woman standing behind him. She was not tall, but gave an impression of height and authority. She wore a leather bolero-like jacket and a dark brown skirt, slit up to her hips. Her flesh was dark, her limbs were hairy. A wild mane of coarse dark hair framed her lean face. The woman’s nose was wide and large, her eyes golden brown and full of predatory intelligence. She smiled at him, exposing sharp white canines.

  “I am Uqqex of Zerrax,” said the woman. “Administrator Puso’s other alien guest,” she added, grinning.

  John inclined his head. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m John Epcott.”

  “I know,” said the Zerraxi woman. “The Last Human.”

  “I hope that’s not how the administrator is introducing me to people.”

  Uqqex chuckled. It was a deep, rasping sound. “Not as far as I know. I’ve seen your face on the newsfeeds.”

  “On Zerrax?”

  “Here, on Juni,” said Uqqex. “I am teaching a course on Zerraxi literature at Gomis University.”

  “You’re an instructor?”

  “A guest lecturer,” said the woman.

  She sat next to him and John became aware of her scent, an earthy muskiness with hints of something like black licorice beneath it. It was unusual, but not unpleasant.

  “I am actually a writer.”

  “I tried writing when I was younger, but I wasn’t tough enough to make it as a professional.”

  “It can be a difficult road,” admitted Uqqex. “But the possibility of being remembered makes the struggle worthwhile.”

  “I don’t think I’ve heard it put like that before.”

  The Zerraxi woman shrugged. Her nostrils flared. “Our host is coming.”

  John glanced past Uqqex, saw Administrator Puso walking toward them, chatting with a pair of older Junian men. “She’s not alone either.”

  Uqqex took another deep breath and sighed. “Councilor Isovo and Councilor Dusem. Two of the biggest bores this side of the Kuref Nebula.”

  John grinned at her. “You don’t hold anything back, do you?”

  “An artist,” said Uqqex, primly, “must always express truth.”

  * * * * *

  Midnight came, Juni’s six moons strung like pearls across the dark sky. The party ended. John, Olu and Vesu made their goodbyes and piled into a groundcar. Olu sighed and stretched her legs.

  “Would anyone mind if I took off my shoes?”

  No one did and Olu kicked off the yellow metallic slippers. Her feet were flushed.

  “You should have worn proper sandals,” chided Vesu.

  “Slippers are all the fashion now.”

  Vesu chuckled and took her hand. “Since when do you care about fashion?”

  “One must move with the times, heartsong.” She shifted on the seat and smiled at John. “You were popular this evening.”

  “It was an interesting party,” admitted John.

  “I saw you chatting with that Zerraxi writer.”

  John nodded. “Uqqex.”

  “You seemed to form a connection,” noted Olu.

  Vesu laughed.

  “What?” said Olu.

  “Be careful, John,” warned Vesu. “Olu’s using her matchmaking voice.”

  “I am not!”

  “Should I order the car to stop here, John, so you can still get away?” asked Vesu, grinning.

  “Uqqex and I decided to present a united front to Administrator Puso and the university councilors,” said John. “That’s all.”

  “So you won’t be seeing her again?” asked Olu.

  “She invited me to attend one of her lectures,” admitted John.

  “You should go,” said Vesu. “Uqqex’s lectures are always popular.”

  “Have you been to any?”

  Vesu nodded. “A few.”

  “I didn’t know that,” said Olu.

  “Talu drug me to a couple.”

/>   “What did you think of them?” asked John.

  Vesu frowned. “I can appreciate Uqqex’s skills as a writer and speaker, but her subject matter doesn’t appeal to me.”

  “Was it violent?” asked Olu. She stroked Vesu’s hand.

  “A bit, but that’s to be expected. She is Zerraxi after all.”

  “Then what is it that bothered you?” asked John.

  “She writes puzzle stories,” said Vesu. “I’ve never cared for them.”

  John frowned. “What’s a puzzle story?”

  “A story where the protagonist must resolve a puzzle, usually associated with a criminal or antisocial act,” said Olu.

  John laughed. “Uqqex writes murder mysteries?”

  Vesu shrugged. “Possibly. I don’t know what a murder mystery is, but it sounds unpleasant.”

  “It was a very popular literary genre back home,” said John.

  “I prefer a good romance,” said Vesu. “Or a comedy. I don’t see the appeal of violence.”

  “For some people, heartsong,” murmured Olu, “the violence and antisocial behaviors provide vicarious titillation.”

  Vesu snorted. “Those people sound like deviants to me.”

  “I don’t know,” said John. “I used to enjoy a good mystery every once in a while.”

  Olu laughed and snuggled close to Vesu. “Oh my! We’re living with a deviant, Vesu! Perhaps we should barricade the bedchamber door!”

  John smirked and shook his head while Vesu simply rolled his eyes.

  * * * * *

  Ted Dov was a typical Junian city. Its buildings flowed across the landscape, enclosing lakes and forest groves. Since their construction and maintenance processes mimicked organic systems, the oldest parts of the city resembled single, large structures. Over centuries, the homes and businesses had grown into one another, forming structures that made John think of avant-garde sandcastles or exotic seashells. The city center was a pale Gordian knot of businesses, homes and public buildings.

  North of the city center lay the Alien Sector. It was a tangle of streets and buildings, the site of businesses and services catering largely to offworlders. The place had a bohemian air to it that John found exhilarating.

  John had stayed in the Alien Sector when he first arrived on Juni, and he found himself drawn back to the area repeatedly. Today, he strolled the shaded streets wearing a hooded cloak of sky blue. No one looked twice at him.