Vesu was squinting at the front of the line. “Is that a Groivan?”
John flipped back the hood of his over-robe, and followed Vesu’s gaze. “Probably.”
The three of them attached themselves to the end of the line, behind a Junian couple. The woman wore the green and black uniform of the Junian Guard. Her male companion wore a pale orange cloak over a sheer blue tunic and blousy green trousers. The man turned and nodded, then blinked in surprise at the sight of John’s dark hair. John saw the recognition appear in the man’s gaze.
“Excuse me,” said the fellow. “Are you John Epcott?”
John plastered a smile on his face. “I am.”
“Oh!” The man’s eyes widened and he touched his companion’s arm. “Tonu, look! It’s John Epcott!”
The woman shot John an apologetic look and glowered at her friend. “Yes, Eja, I can see that.”
“I’m a great admirer of yours, Mr. Epcott!” gushed the man.
“Thank you. Mister?”
“Oh!” Hastily, the man made a proper greeting, pale hands flashing from his shoulders outward. “I’m Eja Zef! And this is my friend, Tonu Nozelu!”
John brushed Zef’s palms with his own hands, nodding at Tonu. “A pleasure to meet you both. These are my friends, Olu Teneso and Vesu Oza.”
Polite greetings were exchanged among the group.
“Have you been here before, Mr. Epcott?” Nozelu asked, indicating the restaurant.
John grinned. “I’m a regular.”
“Was this where you were attacked?” Zef asked, a bit breathlessly.
“Eja!” Tonu Nozelu snapped at her friend, whose face had gone quite pale as he realized he might have committed a serious gaffe. He actually tucked his hands, fingers red as blood, beneath his armpits in mortification.
“Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t think! I. . . .”
“It’s all right,” said John. “The attack happened a few blocks away.”
“It must have been awful!” said Eja Zef.
“Well, it certainly was for the attackers,” said John, mildly.
Zef’s eyes widened with amazement, while a look of startled amusement flashed across Nozelu’s face. Behind him, John heard Olu trying not to laugh.
John glanced at Nozelu’s uniform. “How long have you been in the Guard, Miss Nozelu?”
“Fifteen years.”
“You’re a Ninth Officer?” asked John, glancing at her shoulder insignia. “A science specialist?”
She nodded. “Ecological Science.”
They chatted amicably until they reached the front of the line. John was vaguely aware of the people around them listening, but no one else attempted to join their conversation. Patrons exiting the restaurant glanced at them, as they passed. A few of the Junians stared, and John thought one woman might have damaged her neck, when she jerked her head around in a comical double-take. Then their group reached the front of the line. Nozelu and Zef said goodbye and were ushered into the restaurant.
Suddenly, John found himself caught up in a powerful hug, and smothered against Taiaxa’s impressive bosom. “Aha!” crowed the Zerraxi woman. “John Epcott! I told everyone you’d be back, but didn’t think it would be this soon!”
Laughing, John returned the hug as best he could. “Well, if I’d known I was going to get a greeting like this, Tai, I would have come back even sooner!”
She laughed and stepped back, gave him an appraising look. “You certainly don’t look any worse for your experience with those toznitsati scum! You are well?”
“I’m fine,” said John, gripping Taiaxa’s arms. He grinned at her. “And I’ll be even better with some of your good food in me!”
“Still the flatterer!” But her eyes glittered with warmth. “Your usual table?”
“Actually,” said John, turning to indicate his friends, “we’d like a table for three. Somewhere up front if you’ve got something available.”
Taiaxa’s heavy eyebrows rose in surprise. “Up front?”
John nodded. “Up front. Where everyone can see.”
“Ah.” Taiaxa tilted her head. “I understand.” She inclined her head in a graceful, almost formal, nod, then gestured them into the restaurant. “This way.”
The restaurant was busy, the long communal tables filled from one end to the other, and most of the private tables also occupied. A trio of older Zerraxi males occupied a small stage, playing drums and woodwinds. Taiaxa led them to a table near the stage, clasped John’s shoulder and hurried back to the entrance.
Olu gave John a speculative look. “You seem to have an affinity for Zerraxi women.” She glanced after Taiaxa, smiling a little. “Not that I can fault your taste. Your friend is very impressive.”
John chuckled. “Taiaxa is a force of nature.”
A young Zerraxi male appeared, his dark hair twisted into long braids. He deposited glasses of water and menus.
“Welcome back, Mr. John. Your usual?”
John chuckled. “I think I’ll try something different tonight, Riki. How are things going with the lovely Joneza?”
The Zerraxi youth lowered his head and smiled. “Things go well, Mr. John. I’ll be back in a few moments to take your orders.” Head still bowed, he rushed away.
“Do you know everyone on the staff here?” Vesu asked, amused.
John grinned. “Well, I have been coming here for a while.”
Olu was studying the menu. “What do you recommend?”
“I’m partial to the steaks myself,” said John, “but I think you’d enjoy the grilled fish with spice sauce. Oh! And you have to try the candied eels for desert. They’re delicious!”
Riki returned a few moments later, and they placed their orders. The youth assured them their meals would be ready in a few moments, then vanished to attend to other customers. While they waited, the three friends chatted. Vesu reported on his day, prior to his encounter with Ito Nop, and he and Olu both bemoaned recent decisions made by the university council.
The discussion about the university ended after their food arrived. All three tucked into their meals with gusto. Taiaxa wandered over shortly afterward.
“How are your meals?”
“This vegetable stew is excellent,” said Vesu.
“I’ll pass on your compliments to the cook,” said Taiaxa. She drifted over to John, and lowered her voice. “I thought you might want to know that you’re being followed.”
John lowered his knife and fork. “Newsmakers. I know. They’ve been following me all day.”
“Did you know they’re using cloaked camera-drones?” asked Taiaxa.
“No,” said John. “I didn’t. But I’m not surprised.”
“The drone didn’t try to enter the restaurant, did it?” asked Olu, frowning.
“No,” said Taiaxa. “But it’s been hovering outside the front entrance since you arrived. I thought you might want to know before you left.”
“Thank you, Tai,” said John. He grinned. “Would you like me to linger outside when we leave, under your sign?”
The Zerraxi woman laughed. “I don’t think I need the publicity, but if you want to....”
* * * * *
Fi Mosu checked the newsfeeds that evening for any hint of John Epcott. There was a newsbit, from both Planetary and UNN, containing a very brief interview and some video from a camera drone, showing Epcott and his friends standing outside a Zerraxi restaurant in the Alien Sector. Fi didn’t even think it could count as a fluff piece, given its brevity.
Obviously, the competition had failed to get a proper interview. That would explain the unexpected collaboration between Nesomi and Wisiw. Somehow, Fi doubted if they would work to get any follow up interviews. Interest in Epcott was flagging, while curiosity about the Tiwi Sisters and the question of Pijuni Colony’s independence was rising on the latest trend reports.
Fi shook his head. Didn’t his colleagues realize there was a reason people in their profession were called newsmakers and not trendfol
lowers?
Sighing, Fi switched off his wallscreen. He would still try for the interview with Epcott, but unless he could get it to his agency within the next day, he doubted anything would come of it.
Stormsky
5817
Junian Calendar
Uqqex peered out the window of the transport, but all she could see beyond the glass was dark night and swirling snow. They had entered the storm quite suddenly, but if not for the view outside, Uqqex would never have known. Their progress remained as smooth and uneventful as ever.
I might as well be taking a groundcar to the university, she thought.
Turning away from the window, she glanced at her fellow passengers. The transport was mostly empty, the other passengers either dozing or chatting quietly. An attendant made his way through the cabin, pausing here and there to check on someone. As traveling companions went, Uqqex found this lot of Junians rather sedate.
Usually, when Junians traveled for any length of time somebody would start singing and the rest of the group would join in. That had not happened on this trip. Granted, they had boarded the transport well after midnight, in Mitasi Dov, and most of the passengers had been spent from the festival, but Uqqex still found their passivity odd.
What was worse was that she found herself missing the singing. She suspected that was a sign she had been on Juni too long.
I wonder what John would say to that? Uqqex wondered. She would find out soon enough.
Half an hour later, the cabin brightened. Sleeping passengers were gently roused as they began their descent into Levtavujo. An attendant informed them that, because of the blizzard, surface transport was being restricted to emergency services. Air transport, however, was unaffected. Passengers making aerial connections were advised their transports would be leaving on schedule.
Uqqex slid her PIN into an interface slot and checked the status of her own transport. It was a private transport and she was pleased to note that it was still scheduled to depart on time.
* * * * *
Levtavujo Province was the northernmost inhabited region on Juni. The province consisted of a peninsula that extended into the Polar Sea. It was sparsely populated, and the communities were small, cliquish and isolated.
John Epcott had retreated here over a year ago, after the disaster on Mojipoh Zi. The destruction of that far-flung colony had struck a chord in the human. According to Olu Teneso, John had been withdrawing from the world for some time, in small amounts, but after Mojipoh Zi he retreated from almost all contact with the outside world.
His friends had tried to help him, but what John had been going through had been outside their experience. Only the peacekeeper, Musin Loj, had understood something of John’s emotional turmoil, but even she was out of her depth in this matter.
Most of the difficulty was because John was not Junian. A Junian experiencing that kind of emotional upheaval would have instinctively sought out the support of their community and family. They would have drawn solace and succor from their loved ones.
John, however, was not Junian and neither was his psychology. The depression he fell into, triggered by news coverage of the disaster, was like nothing any of his friends had seen. Uqqex knew that Olu had been so alarmed that she had sought to have herself appointed John’s legal guardian. The authorities had been reluctant. Given John’s extraterrestrial origin, it could have set a dangerous precedent, and offworld relations were strained enough since the incident with the Zerraxi ambassador’s son.
Xenological specialists on human culture had been consulted regarding treatment, but there had been no definitive answer. Olu had poured through the info on human psychology brought back to Juni, looking for an answer, but had been frustrated. As a species, it seemed humans had been quite unstable. There were libraries of psychological info available, full of conflicting opinions.
Uqqex had heard about the situation from Vesu Oza’s friend, Talu, and the Zerraxi restaurateur, Taiaxa. More out of curiosity than sympathy, she had invited John to one of her public readings. She hadn’t thought he would show up, and was surprised when he did.
Sitting in the back of the amphitheater, he stood out from the Junians. He had let his dark hair grow long, but his face was pale and thin. It had been months since Uqqex had met Epcott at the faculty party and he looked like a completely different person. He stared at her throughout her reading, his dark eyes burning. If she had not been so self-possessed, Uqqex was positive she would have stumbled over the words of her story.
Afterwards, he vanished before she could speak with him. Later that week, however, Uqqex received a text-only message from the human. He was reading her latest puzzle-story, and had attached a file that he thought she might find interesting. The file contained a human puzzle-story, about a murder on a ground transport, committed by all the passengers. Uqqex found it fascinating and sent Epcott a comm, telling him so.
A random correspondence began between them. The topics ranged from books and writing to music and philosophy. Uqqex found Epcott to be intelligent and thoughtful, with an interesting perspective. He picked her brain about Zerraxi culture and she did the same to him, regarding Earth.
His invitation to join him for dinner caught Uqqex by surprise. She spoke to Vesu Oza about it. He urged her to accept and, somewhat cautiously, Uqqex did.
They met at Taiaxa’s, in one of the private rooms. Epcott still looked haggard compared to their first meeting, but he had shaved and his eyes no longer burned. Taiaxa herself served them, flirting shamelessly with Epcott. He didn’t seem to notice.
“I’m leaving Ted Dov,” he had announced.
Uqqex had not bothered hiding her surprise. “Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure yet but I can’t stay here any longer.” He had frowned. “I need to be alone, to get my head in order.”
“Is this a human thing?”
He had thought about it for a minute before answering. “It’s a personal thing.”
She had nodded and taken another sip of the jojora wine. “I understand. Will you be taking comms?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll keep in touch.”
He had nodded and that had been it. They had finished their meal, left the restaurant in separate groundcars and, just a week later, Epcott had left Ted Dov. Uqqex heard about it a few days later, from an unusual visitor, an instructor at the Junian Guard Institute named Lewij. The woman appeared at Uqqex’s door, wearing shimmering gray robes. Lewij hadn’t wasted any time with banal pleasantries.
“I’d like to speak with you, syzett, about John Epcott.”
Uqqex had studied the woman. Lewij was small and plump, with shoulder-length yellow hair, but there was hardness to her eyes that few Junians possessed. She smelt, pleasantly, of exertion and something vaguely chemical, something Uqqex’s sensitive nose could not identify. It niggled at the back of her mind, but she tried to ignore it, to focus on the things she did know.
“You’ve spent time on Zerrax.”
Lewij had nodded. “A long time ago,” she said, in passable Zerraxi. “When I was with the Guard.”
“I don’t speak the Tongue of Winds any longer,” Uqqex had said, perhaps more bluntly than she had intended. The Junian woman’s eyes had narrowed slightly, folding the information away for later consideration.
“You weren’t just Guard, were you?” Uqqex took a breath and realized that the odd chemical odor was a pheremonal inhibitor. She grinned, exposing sharp white teeth. “You were with the Diplomatic Authority.”
Imiro Lewij’s face betrayed nothing, but she said, “You’re very quick.”
Uqqex’s smile took on an edge. “I know political operatives when I smell them.”
“Ah.” Lewij’s eyes widened for just a moment. “My mask. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”
“What?”
Lewij touched her shimmering gray robe. “I am a devotee of the goddess, Oba.”
“She’s not one of the Nine.”
/> “No,” said Lewij. “She isn’t. She’s one of our gods that we don’t talk about.”
Uqqex shrugged. “As you like.” She waved Lewij toward a chair. “Sit. Tell me why you’ve come.”
Lewij had stepped into the smallish cubicle that Uqqex used as her office, and settled herself in a chair. The furnishings were rustic, the walls configured to display a river, drifting past lush green banks. Uqqex waved at the walls.
“Shall I shut down the display? Some people find it distracting.”
“No,” said Lewij. “It’s fine. Is it a scene from Zerrax?”
“You know better. What is it about Epcott you want to talk about?”
“Did you know he’s left Ted Dov?”
“He mentioned it to me,” said Uqqex. “Why?”
“His friends are concerned. He’s fragile at the moment.”
Uqqex arched her thick eyebrows. “Is that what you think?”
“Don’t you?”
“I think he’s fighting for his life.”
Lewij leaned forward. “Do you think he’s winning?”
Uqqex hesitated. “I don’t know. He’s not Zerraxi. I’m not sure I’m qualified to judge.”
The Junian woman nodded and sat back. “We have that in common, then. And that, I fear, is the heart of the matter.”
“What?”
“John’s friends mean well but they have little contact with aliens. They keep looking at him, at his situation, with Junian eyes.”
“You keep saying his friends,” said Uqqex. “Are you one of them?”
“I’d like to think so,” admitted Lewij.
“But you aren’t looking at him with Junian eyes?”
Lewij’s answering smile was wan. “I’m trying not to, which is harder than I expected.”
“So, what? You’ve come seeking an alien perspective?”
“No,” said Lewij. “I’ve come because John comms you.”
Dawnwind 1: Last Man Standing Page 7
