Of a Note in a Cosmic Song; Part Four
Page 1
© Nōnen Tίti 2010
All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form of by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
First Published in New Zealand in 2010 by Nōnen Tίti
www.nonentiti.com
ISBN 978-0-473-17268-8 (print)
ISBN 978-0-994-10771-8 (EPUB)
ISBN 978-0-994-10772-5 (Kindle)
Printed and bound in New Zealand by
The Copy Press, Nelson
Cover design by Neil Smith
Ebook conversion 2014 by meBooks
NAME INDEX:
Anoyak, Frimon and Leni’s adopted son, previously in Jema’s care
Aryan, chief pilot of SJilai
Benjamar, retired judge, Jitsi’s grandfather
Branag, father of Kunag and Jari, Tini’s comate, engineer
Daili, mother of Tikot, Laytji and Hani, Kalim’s comate, djarologist
Doret, Kolyag and Elsa’s son
Elsa, Kolyag’s comate, mother of Doret, Ilse and Sarika
Emi, Leni’s daughter
Erwin, sea captain and fisherman
Flori, nurse, Nini’s friend
Frantag, colony leader
Frimon, Leni’s comate, father to Anoyak, Emi, Rorag and Kisya
Gabi, ex-pilot
Gina, Nini’s roommate on SJilai
Gos, farmer’s son, Anoyak’s friend
Hani, Daili and Kalim’s daughter
Harmon, Wolt’s roommate, Kunag’s friend
Haslag, ex-user
Irma, doctor, Nini’s friend
Jari, Kunag’s sister, Branag and Tini’s daughter
Jema, ex-teacher and child carer
Jenet, marine biologist
Jitsi, Benjamar’s granddaughter
Jos, teacher, Jema’s friend
Kala, nurse
Kalgar, colony leader
Kalim, Daili’s comate, father to Hani, Laytji and Tikot, meteorologist,
Kaspi, Jema’s friend (DJar)
Kintji, botanist
Kolyag, cattle farmer, father of Doret, Ilse and Sarika
Kristag, Wilam and Pina’s son
Kunag, artist, Branag and Tini’s son
Laytji, Daili’s daughter
Leni, Frimon’s comate, mother to Anoyak, Emi, Rorag and Kisya
Leyon, ex-user
Lisa, ex-astronomer
Maike, expedition leader
Markag, Harmon’s father, ex-president (DJar)
Marya, Nini and Jema’s roommate and friend
Mektar, Freberer healer, Nini’s teacher (DJar)
Nini, nurse
Nori, child in Jema’s care (DJar)
Pina, Wilam’s comate, Kristag’s mother
Remag, zoologist
Remko, nurse, Nini’s friend
Roilan, engineer, member of Kun DJar government
Rorag, Frimon’s son
Saski, Jema’s friend
Sian, Tigor’s daughter
Skawag, Benjamar’s son (DJar)
Sotyar, Leni’s father (DJar)
Styna, cattle farmer, Wilam’s friend
Tarin, Nini’s friend
Thalo, ex-user
Tigor, crop farmer
Tikot, Kalim and Daili’s son
Tini, Kunag and Jari’s mother, architect
Tiya, child carer, Jema’s friend
Tjarkag, Benjamar’s son (DJar), Jitsi’s father
Wentar, agriculturalist
Wilam, crop farmer, Kristag’s father
Wolt, journalist, Kunag’s friend
Yako, ex-user, Marya’s friend
AGES:
CONTENTS
Front Cover
Title page
Copyright
The Colourful Hills
Across the Yellow Plain
The Globular Forest
Mud Lakes and Reed Ponds
The Bees, the Fog, and the Sea
The Wishing Game
To a Life of No Limit
Nobody’s Fault
Just a Little Too Easy
Beginnings
Judgment Day
Made for Us
Hot Lava
Dutiful
Promises
Know-It-All
The Smell of Politics
Trial and Error
Treyak
Ot and Sjari
Shimmer and Shine
Mama
Reasonable and Fair
Aliens
Pathetic Old Fool
Devils and Demons
THE COLOURFUL HILLS
Before first light on Day One of Station Five’s second moon, Kunag left Harmon’s home and went to say goodbye to Mom. He expected a whole list of cautions, but all she said was “Be careful”. Jari didn’t say much at all; it was as if they were strangers again, as if all those years in between hadn’t happened.
“Don’t worry; Maike says we’ll just walk over those heaps of dirt and then come right back,” Kunag told them, using Maike’s description of the mountain-range that divided the continent.
Kunag didn’t really care how big the mountains were, he just wanted to be far away from town. He refused Jari’s offer to walk him to the social building and arrived to find the eleven other members of the expedition, as well as Benjamar, waiting for him. Each of the travellers had a woven pack fitted over their shoulders, covering both front and back, and a roll-up mat.
“If I say we meet at change of light, it means that’s the time you’re here, not the time you leave home,” Maike scolded Kunag, while Sinti put her arms around him. “I was afraid you’d changed your mind,” she said.
Irritated with both responses, Kunag shook her off. Although Sinti had said she’d come on the expedition if he was going, Kunag hadn’t really expected her to do so. He’d avoided being with her so she wouldn’t talk about things he didn’t want to think about.
While Kunag put his pack on, Benjamar reminded them of Daili’s challenge and said he expected them back in about a station with good news, by which he meant having found a place for a second settlement. He wished them good luck.
The knee-high orange vegetation, along with the restriction caused by the pack, made walking difficult, and nobody talked much. Sinti panted and moaned while Kunag worried that he’d step on one of the creatures that made this stuff. By Kundown, when they reached the foot of the south-western hills, he was exhausted.
Following Maike’s orders, they separated into two groups of six, men and women, and each put their roll-up mat on the bare ground. Two men, whom Kunag didn’t know, managed to get a small fire going with one of the turf logs. It didn’t produce much heat, but it was enough for Maike to warm up some water for drinks to have with the dried food they carried.
Kunag lay down on his mat and looked at the shiny dots scattered all over the dark sky. It didn’t matter that it was cold or that his legs felt heavy – gloomy town was behind him.
Kunag jumped up when the clink of an empty container hit the ground beside his head.
“Time to go and collect some water. There’s a stream up ahead, safe to drink from,” Maike, a silhouette against the pink morning sky, told him.
Careful not to step on the little blobby things that jumped around beneath his feet, which Kunag considered animals, he took the container into the direction Maike had pointed. Doret caught up with him, also carrying a jug. He was the youngest to joi
n the expedition, not yet thirteen, but he was tall and had the build and accent of a farmer. “Why did you come? To draw?” he asked.
Kunag told him yes. His assignment was to record the land and whatever they’d find on it.
“You’ll never finish.”
“You’re from Veleder?” Kunag asked.
“Yeah, but I don’t remember much of it. I like it here. I hope we find a good place to live for all the people. My dad wants to get away from town, but I don’t want to leave my friends.”
The stream was as good as Maike had said, trickling down from the hills, as clean as on DJar – cleaner, probably; no sign of anything living in it. After filling the containers and giving their faces a quick splash, they returned to where the others were ready and packed. Marya took Doret’s container and put it on the little fire. Kunag’s bigger one was used to fill up the flasks and then for the others to have a wash.
After the water was warm, but not boiled, Maike poured it over a mush of stalks and other stuff. She called it “prut” and filled everybody’s cup with it.
“It looks like vomit,” Sinti said, pulling her nose up at it, and emptied it out onto the ground. Some of the others tried to be less blatant about it, but after that comparison… Had it not been for Maike sitting right opposite him, Kunag might have followed Wolt’s example and emptied it behind his back, but he couldn’t now. He’d already lost points for arriving late, so he drank it down. To his surprise it was sweet; a real taste.
“Honey,” Maike said when he looked at her.
“It’s good.”
Doret was sent back to the stream to wash the cups. One of the men doused the fire and salvaged the turf that had not burned. Maike handed Kunag the two empty water containers to tie to his pack. “First thing at first light. The water takes time to heat,” she said.
The surrounding land changed abruptly as the flat ground turned to hillside. Kunag’s senses indulged in the panorama of odourless colours. There was not a bit of green. Kun DJar’s coastal dunes might be called green, but it was a dull grey-green, not vibrant. He felt as heavy as when he’d first arrived on the planet, as if walking against the wind, only he wasn’t, and it wasn’t the climbing either. The air itself felt thick. It was like inhaling the sensation rather than just perceiving it, while the landscape filled his eyes with pictures he was itching to paint – all shades of blue, red, and purple, beckoning him to take out his artpack. And not just the colours, but the variety of forms and textures; though the vast majority of everything on this planet seemed to be round, or at least have some globular or radial form, they came in all sorts from gritty to shiny and smooth, from nearly black to creamy white, and from the size of his fingernail to that of a large rock. Some had outgrowths or tentacles attached, like the orbs, but these here seemed to be plants.
Kunag had sat down by the seaside so often these last kor, willing himself to draw but unable to. Today, he knew he could. Why was Maike in such a hurry?
His quiet enjoyment was interrupted when Sinti caught up with him and started asking questions: Was he happy to be away from town? Did he make nice drawings yet? Wasn’t it funny that the air was so heavy? “Do you miss your father?”
“Shut up,” he said.
“Don’t say that.”
“Then go away.”
She stood still. “There’s no need to get nasty!” she shouted, causing all the others to look.
Kunag walked on. Why had she come on this trip? She never even liked being outside. He’d ignored her ever since the disease, so she couldn’t possibly believe they were still a couple.
Wolt came walking next to him. “Go easy on her. She can’t help being the way she is.”
Kunag didn’t answer him either.
It took eight days to cross the hills. Every morning and evening Kunag collected water, which, besides drawing, seemed to be his job. He was no longer breathless and the days became routine. In the mornings they drank the sweet prut; at night they ate the dried food – mostly salted zibot meat strips and grubs – they’d brought from town. The idea was to make the supplies last as long as possible. Nobody cared much for the dried foods and soon the evening meal was reduced to a little nibble.
Only once had Maike allowed Kunag a quick sketch before camp was made. He hadn’t asked for the okay but sat down when Leyon showed them an animal in a smoky crevice. “I have to draw this.” It was an animal, after all. Well, it could be an animal. It looked like a jellyfish, but it floated on the thick air that came out of the rock. It had no colour of its own, but seemed to change depending on how the light fell on it. Kunag would have liked to touch it, but Doret had his hand slapped for only reaching out, so he didn’t try.
Once the last crest was reached a second “must draw” situation occurred. The most magnificent grassland Kunag had ever seen lay before them. Its hue was the brightest of yellows. An artist using these colours on DJar would have been called a surrealist. There was no describing it, not with words, anyhow. Maike didn’t say no; her eyes sparkled as if she was the creator of this splendour rather than the guide who’d brought them here.
This was as far as the last expedition had come. From here on it was going to be watching, recording, and being careful. They’d make camp earlier each day so there would be time to explore or draw by the light of Kun. “We won’t be going quite as fast,” Maike promised, which was answered with exaggerated sighs of relief from some of the others.
That night, lying on his mat on the very last place any people had ever been before, Kunag felt both protected in the tent of vibrant yellow, and free. These were the plains the cattle farmers would move to. Maybe it was a good thing the zibots were colour-blind. Way in the distance must be the mountains, but as far as their eyes could see, there was nothing but empty sky and endless land.
Once, a long time ago, on the day Kunag had made up his mind to go along with Dad, he’d imagined Kun DJar as an empty land just like this, with birds flying overhead. Now, in the quiet of the new planet, he remembered the crowded airfloat and busy city streets that had helped him make the decision. This was what he’d longed for. If only the beginning hadn’t been so bad.
“What’s the dream about?”
Kunag looked up to find Nini above him. “Nothing special.”
“No nobis yet?”
“No, not yet.” It was unlikely they would ever encounter anything like a nobi, or anything bigger than the orbs. Kun DJar seemed to keep everything small; its plants and its animals.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save your dad.”
Kunag shrugged. It wasn’t her fault.
She sat down next to him, quiet and serene, like the land.
“Do you miss DJar?” he asked her.
“No, just my mom sometimes.”
“But you were given no choice?”
“If I would have had a choice, I would’ve come anyway,” she answered. “How about you, are you sorry?”
She didn’t look at him. Maybe she didn’t expect an answer.
“No, I’m happy.”
ACROSS THE YELLOW PLAIN
“According to the SJilai scan, it should be totally flat from the other side to the far coast,” Hani said.
“That may be so, but first we have to get to the other side,” Wolt replied.
In front of them the mountaintops rose into the reddish sky; already impressive, and they were still more than a day’s walk away.
“What if they’re too steep to climb?” Saski asked. She didn’t feel like hanging from a rope, and according to the map they stretched the entire continent. Kunag silently agreed with her. He worried they’d have to turn back.
“I wonder how long it took for them to get this high,” Hani said.
“Not very long, relatively speaking. The landmasses that collided here must have travelled pretty fast,” Marya told her.
“How can you know?”
Marya explained that a planet like Kun DJar, spinning as she did, would wear mountains down v
ery fast. The poles of the entire globe were flattened, yet these mountains were pointy.
“Can’t they be volcanic, seeing all those springs we found in the plains?”
Marya laughed. “No. I mean, I have no idea what I’m talking about, of course, but that didn’t get made by volcanoes, I’m sure of that.”
“I wish Daili was here,” Hani said.
Both Daili and Daili’s apprentice had succumbed to the disease, and none of the twelve of them knew any djarology. Gos had a similar problem. He was a farmer’s son, who’d left Learners to become an apprentice to the botanist, but she hadn’t lived through the disease; Gos would have to do the best he could. And though he didn’t miss him like Gos missed Kintji and Hani missed Daili, Kunag wondered why Remag had decided to stay in town.
Maike cut short the discussion by saying that it mattered little how the mountains had gotten there: The problem was crossing them.
The plains between the hills and these mountains had taken them less than a moon to cross. Though seemingly endless, the walking had been easy and the atmosphere relaxed with plenty of time for talking and drawing. Kunag’s legs were no longer tired at night, and collecting water was the easy job – all through the fields they had found small waterholes made by underground springs, invisible between the vegetation. The first one had been discovered by accident when Leyon, who’d been running ahead, had stepped into one and nearly broken his leg. After that they’d found them everywhere. As far as they could see the water was devoid of life; it was cold and clear, and it hadn’t made them sick.
Marya’s job, making food, was not so easy anymore. The plains were cool but dry and windy. There was no protection for a fire, unless they dug a little recess in the ground, a job that had fallen to Doret and Leyon every night.
Marya had come on the expedition with Nini, but now she spent most of her time with Yako. What exactly his job was, Kunag couldn’t tell. He carried the compass and had Kunag mark the location and the position of the moons on his map every night. The nights were short and hazy, not quite dark, and very few stars were visible anymore. The days were a little longer, with Kun shining like a big yellow ball in the pink sky.