EarthBound

by D M Arnold

  Nyk remembered the language training. Actually, he remembered none of the training proper. He had lain in a coma for ten days as the subliminal inducer programmed the neurons in his brain. He remembered vividly awakening from the coma -- the crippling headaches and debilitating nausea. It was three days before he could keep food down. But, he emerged from subliminal sleep with a native-born American's fluency.

  One lesson in particular had been drummed into his head. “Above all, we must avoid temporal interference,” an instructor had lectured. “The act of placing Agents on Earth puts us at risk of creating a temporal paradox. Our civilization grew from the failed Centauri mission, five thousand Earth years in our past. However, the mission is yet two hundred years in that planet's future.

  “If those on Earth were to learn of the upcoming fate of the Floran, the mission might not be launched. Without that mission the Floran hegemony -- twenty-four billion men, women and children -- would cease to exist. This is the risk of an Agency assignment. Tread carefully on Earth. Think of the lives, the cities, the colony planets and the civilization we've built over six thousand Floran years. Think of your own life. Tread carefully...”

  Nyk headed down a side street. At about mid-block, he was approached by a gaunt man several years older than he, barefoot and wearing a stained and tattered tunic without a xarpa. His beard showed several days' worth of growth. An orange triangle tattooed onto the man's forehead marked him as an incorrigible. Nyk realized he had no way to escape an encounter.

  “Excuse me, sir,” the man said, “I see you've been to the food store. Could you spare a miserable felon a bite to eat? I've exhausted my food credits for the period and I haven't eaten in two days.”

  Nyk reached into the shopping sack and retrieved the package of snack wafers. He handed it to the man, who ripped it open and began devouring them.

  “You're looking at what becomes of a criminal,” he said between bites. “Economic incarceration, it's called.” He held up his right wrist. “My ID's been marked. I cannot purchase anything, save subsistence food. I must travel on foot. Even use of the vidphones is denied me. I must sleep in a shelter. I'm a prisoner on the streets of this city.” He muttered as he ate.

  “I committed no crime. I was convicted of homicide, of murdering my amfin in a crime of passion. I did not do that, I could never do that. I loved her. I was convicted on circumstantial evidence ... They called me a societopath ... I volunteered for truth drug interrogation, but Internal Affairs convinced the magistrates even that testimony couldn't be trusted.” He looked into Nyk's eyes. “I ask you, does this look like the face of a societopath?”

  Nyk thought it might.

  “In fact, they've no proof she's dead. They never found the body! I've lost everything, my home, my livelihood and my family.” Nyk's gaze strayed to the man's right arm. It bore a solid black circle where the wedding crest would be. “I've served half a fifteen-year sentence. In two years, my sentence is up for review. I might be granted parole. I'll go down to Tinam and do some crop tending. Or maybe to one of the colonies. I'll enter a mining camp on T-Delta and start over, there...”

  The man finished the pack of wafers. “Thank you, sir. Thank you for taking pity on this wretch.” He crumpled the empty package and began to toss it on the sidewalk.

  “I'll take that.” Nyk took the wrapper. The felon gave him the two- finger Floran salute and walked away. Nyk hurried toward his apartment building. He tossed the empty package into the waste reprocessor at the entrance and rode the lift to the 353rd floor. A press of his wrist against the scanpad opened the door. Senta was at the lab, but he expected her shortly. He set the drugs and groceries on the kitchen counter and headed for his study.

  Nyk heard the sound of the skimmer door. He walked into the kitchen. Senta was examining his purchases. “Is this new?” She held up an injector cartridge.

  “Yes, it's a new female endurance enhancer.”

  “Well, I want to try that tonight.”

  “You hardly need it, Senta.”

  She examined the groceries. “You didn't get the snack wafers?”

  “...No ... I can go out now and get some.”

  She scowled. “No, don't waste a trip. We'll manage without them. I put them on the list because I know you like them. I swear, Nyk, you're determined not to enjoy yourself tonight.” She opened a cabinet door, withdrew a stack of polymer fiber baskets and began filling them with the inhalers and injector cartridges.

  “I want to do some more work on Koichi's journal until it's closer to the time of the party. It may be a while before I can get back to it".

  “Take these on your way to your little sanctuary. Please, Nykkyo, try to enjoy yourself tonight -- and try to think first of the needs of our guests. Is that too much to ask?”

  He took the baskets, plopped them onto a table and headed to the study, pulling the door shut behind him. There, he picked up a datacel containing Koichi's journal. Nyk had not translated the journal in a systematic fashion. He had started with easier passages and worked his way to the more difficult ones as his grasp of the ancient Esperanto language improved. Now he was struggling with an entry from early in the journal. He translated:

  5.001 APF

  Today begins our sixth orbit around the orange star we now know as our sun. We have agreed on some conventions for the recording of the passage of time. Our year has now been accurately measured to be 251.724 Floran days long. We have agreed the first day of each new year shall be marked by the conjunction of our sun and the star Deneb, which is bright enough to be seen in daylight.

  When both Deneb and our sun are simultaneously at the zenith, it is a new year. Every fourth year will be shortened by one day to accommodate the nearly three fourths of an extra day in the revolutionary period -- analogous to the practice of Leap Year on Earth, except our Leap Year shall be shorter by one day, rather than longer. As for marking of time during the day, we have agreed to split each day into two meridians, the Zenith meridian, marked by the sun being at its zenith, and the Nadir meridian. Each meridian shall be divided into eight segments, and each segment into one hundred divisions. We have deliberately avoided the use of Earth terminology of hours, minutes, seconds, months and weeks. So far, there has been scant interest in carrying forward Earth holidays....

  The study door slid open. “Nyk, our guests will be here any moment. Please get ready for the party.” He saved the text of his translation and switched off the vidisplay.

  2 -- Green! Everywhere Green!

  Nyk stood on the balcony watching the sky darken and dimmer stars appear. “I hope that's not what you're wearing,” he heard Senta say. “You look like you're ready for a day at the office instead of having some fun.”

  “I'm comfortable in this.”

  “Wouldn't you be more comfortable in the robe I gave you? You know which one I mean. It matches what I'm wearing. Now why don't you go change? Our guests will be here any moment.”

  Nyk walked into their bedroom, kicked off his sandals, removed his xarpa and tunic, and slipped into the short, sleeveless robe. The doorchime sounded. He walked barefoot to the front door and opened it.

  The first guests, a pair of young women with dark blond hair, walked in and slipped off their sandals. They were the Arodsu twins, dressed in revealing costumes to be mirror images of each other. “Hello, girls. It's Katha and Ratha, isn't it?”

  “I'm Ratha,” the one on the left said. Her twin giggled.

  Nyk eyed the colorful, abstract body art on their shoulders and thighs. “Those are ... impressive decorations. Do they rub off?”

  Katha giggled. “Not until we want them to.”

  “They go all the way up,” Ratha added, lifting her hem. “See?”

  Nyk averted his gaze and gestured toward the living room. “Senta is expecting you.”

  He greeted more guests, most of whom flocked around Senta. A young man approached Nyk and handed him an inhaler. Nyk smiled and thanked him, then circulated through t
he guests and slipped it back into the basket of euphoriants.

  The doorchime sounded again. Nyk opened the door and recognized Senta's skimmer pilot. “Rez -- come on in. I'm surprised you didn't just drop in onto the balcony. I wasn't expecting you.”

  Rez looked at his feet. “Dr Kyhana invited me this afternoon. If there's a problem...”

  Nyk shook his head. “If Senta invited you, you're more than welcome. She's in the living room.” Rez nodded an acknowledgement, headed toward Senta and embraced and kissed her. Nyk rolled his eyes as he saw her take Rez's hand and lead him toward the guest room.

  An auburn-haired young woman approached him. “Hi, I'm Kyra.”

  “Pleased to meet you, I'm Nykkyo.”

  She handed him an injector and lifted her hem. “Please inject me. I can't do it myself.”

  Nyk saw it was loaded with an orgasm enhancer. He removed the needle guard. She closed her eyes and turned her head as he drove the needle into her thigh and triggered the spring-loaded device. “Done,” he said withdrawing the needle and replacing the guard. “That wasn't too bad was it?” He ejected the spent cartridge.

  “No -- I hardly felt anything.” She put her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder. “It's funny, I can inject someone else, but not myself...” She pressed and rocked her hips against his. “I'm starting to feel it, already.” He held her for a moment, and then heard the doorchime.

  “Excuse me,” he said and headed toward the door, flicking the spent cartridge into the waste reprocessor. He opened the door and saw Zander Baxa and his wife.

  “Nykkyo, it's been years.” Nyk tapped his left wrist to Zander's. “This is Andra.” Nyk regarded Zander's wife. She was dressed in a tunic and lifxarpa. Andra had oat-straw white hair, alabaster skin and eyes of the palest light blue, almost white. Her sash matched her eyes. She was tall with long neck and legs and slender arms. Nyk noted the diamond-shaped Baxa marriage crest tattooed on her right arm -- the black ink contrasted against her creamy skin.

  Andra extended her hand. “I'm pleased to meet you,” she said, making a hint of a curtsy.

  “I'm pleased to meet you, too. Help yourself to the recreational chemicals.” Nyk gestured toward the baskets on the table.

  She smiled. “I don't use them, but thank you so much for offering.”

  Nyk saw his wife appear from the midst of the crowd. “Hello, I'm Senta.” She led Andra toward the crush of guests in their living room.

  Nyk accompanied Zander toward the baskets. “It's quite a crowd,” Zander said.

  “I don't even know the names of most of these people. They're all Senta's friends.”

  Zander plucked a pair of inhalers from a basket, handed one to Nyk, put the other to his lips and inhaled. Nyk did the same, but he held his in such a way as to avoid inhaling most of its charge. Zander closed his eyes and held his breath for a few moments, then exhaled slowly through his nose. Nyk feigned a cough and Zander slapped him on the back.

  “You haven't changed, Nykkyo. You never could handle drugs.”

  Nyk tossed the spent inhalers into the waste reprocessor. “What's happening in the Agency?”

  “Oh, the same-old-same-old. You start a tour tomorrow, I understand. You will enjoy yourself, I can assure you. Agency assignments are the most rewarding in the entire ExoService. We're a close-knit group and we take care of each other. For everyone's safety, you might not know the names and locations of other Agents. But we're there, and we help each other out.” He put his arm around Andra and she smiled. “The Agency's been good to me.”

  “Come on, Nyk -- have some fun!” Senta approached him, staggering.

  “Senta, your robe is open,” Nyk said.

  “So what? I'm enjoying myself. Why don't you open your robe and enjoy yourself? You're so stiff, Nyk ... except where it counts. Loosen up and have some fun! I invited the prettiest girls and boys I know. Come on -- use tonight to get it out of your system. You'll be Earthbound a long time.”

  “Senta's right,” Zander said. “You'll have to keep your hands off the Earth girls. If Seymor knew you even looked twice at an Earth woman, he'd bounce you back here so fast your head would spin.”

  “I don't enjoy intimacy with strangers, and I don't know the names of most of these people. Besides, I'm saving my desire for you, for when I'm home on leave.”

  “Maybe you'd like to spend some of that desire right now...” She looked up. “... Andra, can I get you anything?”

  “I'd like a cup of water, if it's not too much trouble.”

  “Not at all. Come with me.” Senta looked at Nyk. “I'll be back for you, later.” She led Andra by the hand toward the kitchen.

  Zander held up his hand. “Go ahead and enjoy Andra. You know her name, at least. I'll call her over.” He waited until she glanced his way. “It's the training, Nyk. They're taught to watch their companions for signals.” He made a slight gesture with his thumb and Andra started walking toward them.

  “Thanks, but I'm not in the right mood for any of this. Enjoy yourself, Zander. Don't let me spoil your fun.”

  “If you say so.” Zander flicked his index finger. Andra nodded, turned and rejoined Senta. “She's too much woman for you, anyway.” He headed for the baskets on the table.

  Nykkyo eyed the festivities. Couples were on the floor kissing and groping each other. He glanced into his bedroom and saw a foursome on his bed -- a tangle of arms and legs. Undoubtedly they included the Arodsu twins; he rolled his eyes. A young man he observed earlier popping psychedelic tabs danced to music in his head. Senta stood with her arm around Andra's waist talking to a group of women.

  Nyk saw Kyra sitting on Zander's lap. They were caressing each other and she had opened his robe and slipped it off his shoulders. One of the men swiped a basket of euphoriant inhalers from the table and took it to the balcony. The traditional men's caucus was forming there and a noisy discussion of sports and politics was underway.

  He slinked along the wall of the apartment. A young woman who had overindulged in euphoriants tripped over him, fell to the floor and he helped her to her feet. He stepped over a young man who hit his limit and had passed out.

  Nyk reached the door to his study. He slipped through, pulled it shut, switched on the vidisplay and began translating.

  * * *

  Nyk lay on his back, cracked his eyes opened and closed them again. Senta lay beside him. He recollected the previous evening with a groan.

  “What time did you come to bed?” she asked.

  “I didn't look. That party kept me up too late.”

  “It wasn't the party. You were still in your study when I came to bed.” She rolled from him.

  “I want to try to get some more sleep before it's time to get up,” he replied. A clock built into a panel by the bed chimed -- Nadir-four. Nyk groaned again.

  He arose and found a cold breakfast package; he ate half and tossed the remainder into the waste reprocessor. Senta was showering as he dressed in a tunic and powder-blue xarpa and packed his travel gear.

  She stood behind him. “Wasn't Andra gorgeous?”

  “I didn't notice. I did notice how phony she was.”

  “Phony? What do you mean?”

  “I don't use them, but thank you so much for offering,” Nyk said imitating Andra and mocking her curtsy. “It was enough to make one gag. And how she dotes on Zander. They've been married more than three years and she sticks to him like glue, like a newlywed. It was the most nauseating display. You never gave me that kind of attention.”

  “Perhaps he deserves it. Where do they live?”

  “Zander has an apartment somewhere in the city. He also has a home on Earth, and he spends more time there than here.”

  “Maybe I'll give Andra a call. She probably has some free time on her hands.”

  “I hope you're not considering adding her to your list of conquests.”

  “I thought Andra was sweet and I'd enjoy having her as a friend.”

  “S
enta, sometimes ... I just can't believe it.”

  “Are you saying you don't want me to have her as my friend?”

  “Have anyone you want as your friend.”

  “But you don't approve of her, do you?”

  “You know how I feel about the ax'amfinen and the schools that produce them. I wouldn't have a thing to do with any of them.”

  “Do you think Andra is somehow ... less than human? Do you think the blood flowing in her veins is some color other than red?” Senta shook her head. “This is so unlike you, Nyk.”

  “The whole institution is an abomination and must be abolished.”

  “Andra is not the institution. She's a pleasant young woman.”

  “She enables it. Without the likes of her the institution would starve to death.”

  “What do you know of how the finishing schools operate?”

  “I know enough -- enough to form a low opinion of anyone who'd enroll there.”

  “I had an opportunity to talk with Andra last night while you were holed up in your study. It wasn't her choice to enroll. Her parents sold her to the school. I'll bet you didn't know that, Nyk. She was only fifteen and she hasn't seen nor spoken with them since. If you had mingled with our guests, if you had engaged them in conversation rather than sequestering yourself in your study, you might have learned something about Andra. You even might have made a few friends.”

  “I leave in a couple segments for a yearlong assignment on Earth. I'd rather we not spend our parting moments arguing. If you want to be friendly with Andra, it's fine with me.”

  “I don't need your approval, Nykkyo.”

  “As you've demonstrated many times over the years.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Senta, can we drop it?”

  “As you wish,” she said as she selected clothes from her wardrobe. She slipped into her tunic and donned a lifxarpa, securing it with a pin emblazoned with the Kyhana crest. “I'm sorry I won't be able to see you off, but we're having an appallingly busy time at the labs. You'll call once you're there, won't you?”