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Sonata in Orionis (Earth Song Cycle Book 2)

Page 17

by Mark Wandrey


  “It’s not as it seems, P’ing,” Second Jacob complained.

  “The human preoccupation with matters of sexual differences, mostly perceived physical limitations, is one of the more disturbing qualities I have observed over time.”

  “I am sorry we cause you consternation, Concordian Master P’ing,” Jacob intoned with as much reverence as he could. To the humans, his bitter, dripping sarcasm was quite evident. “But it is in our character to accentuate the differences between the sexes.” All except Dram nodded.

  “Are you really? I have doubts. For more than one hundred cycles of your primary star, we have Chosen humans to serve and learn from our instructions. The majority have been what you call males. This is despite our insistence that more females participate, especially considering the contribution females made to your initial survival.” The humans remained respectfully silent while the Tog spoke, only speaking when the Tog expected an answer.

  “Concordian Master, we allow any who would participate to do so. It is not our fault that so few make it to the end of the Trials.”

  “They are discouraged in every way your primitive society can manage. Every stage of the process emphasizes sexuality. Even the Trials themselves center on physical feats of strength and prowess, one of the few areas your females are at a disadvantage.”

  “We are again sorry, Concordian Master, but our Trials are created by the rules you have set down for us—”

  The Tog made a very human gesture of dismissal with its serpentine arm. “We do not question your right to your Trials. Such is the Law.” Hse was quiet for a long moment, and the humans waited patiently. “Minu Alma is to be given all considerations accorded to our special Chosen, is that understood?”

  “Yes, Concordian Master,” they all intoned together.

  “Once she heals and primary training is complete, we will see her again.” With that, the three Tog turned and left. The humans looked uncomfortably at each other, then began to leave, as well. As they exited, Second Jacob caught Dram’s arm and held him for a moment.

  “You had something to do with that, didn’t you?” he accused.

  “And if I did?”

  “If you did, it’s on your shoulders.”

  Dram shrugged and smiled, looking down at the hand on his bicep. “Is there anything else, Second?” Jacob released him, and Dram left him alone with his thoughts.

  * * * * *

  Part II

  Chapter 1

  Julast 1st, 515 AE

  Aeroport, Tranquility, Plateau Tribe

  The dirigible docked at Tranquility Aeroport a couple of hours behind schedule. The passengers were mostly poor, looking for a cheap way to cross the continent, the unhurried rich relaxing on a luxurious trip, or travelers coming from remote locations. Minu, coming from somewhere with limited transportation options, was the first down the ramp.

  Tranquility seemed little changed in the year she’d been gone. But as she left the Aeroport behind, she realized looks could be deceiving. There were far more Concordian-manufactured vehicles than when she’d left. When she reached East Street and turned toward the center of town, she looked for a trolley but couldn’t find one. In their place were light rail cars and self-propelled robotic electric vehicles. The street was much quieter without the clanking old trolleys. Somehow, Tranquility didn’t feel like home anymore. The new transports had been only a dream when she’d left for the Trials. Things were changing fast.

  Minu jumped into one of the open-sided rail cars as it hummed by. A quiet voice welcomed her aboard and announced that it had subtracted one half-dollar from her account. “They even have chip sensors,” she said aloud.

  “Most of us don’t even have the chips implanted yet,” someone behind her said. She turned to see who’d spoken and found Jovich. “Welcome back, young lady!”

  “Jovich!” she squealed and nearly climbed over the seat to hug him. He returned the affection with slight disapproval. The tram warned her that she should remain seated, but she ignored the warning and hopped over the seat to sit next to her friend.

  “When did you get back?” he asked.

  “Just a few minutes ago. I can’t believe how much things have changed.”

  “Have you seen the new monorail station yet?” She shook her head. “The city fathers brought in a Concordian tunnel borer. The monorail that used to stop at the base of the plateau now cuts right through the living rock and emerges on the east side.”

  “Wow, how long did that take?”

  “About a month, start to finish.”

  “Must have taken a lot of labor. Did they bring in people from other tribes?” Even though Bellatrix was a type of Republic, most people still referred to each nation as a tribe.

  “Actually, the Concordian company that did the work used mostly robots and plasma drills.”

  For the last year, she’d been learning about Concordian technology. The monorail station was a minor project by their standards, almost too small to notice. They used robots the same way humans used spoons, or shoes. Robots were invisibly and seamlessly part of their everyday lives.

  They rode on for a time, the tram stopping at each intersection to load and unload passengers. Minu watched as most swiped their identification cards through the readers to have the fare debited from their accounts. The few with implant chips sat down, and the system automatically debited their accounts. Only government officials and Chosen had had the tiny computer implants when she was a child.

  “Have the Tog decided about my father yet?” Minu finally asked.

  “No, but we expect they will soon. You shouldn’t give up hope, you know.”

  “A year, Jovich. How many Chosen have gone missing for an entire year, then returned?”

  “None,” he admitted. She looked down at the slowly moving ground. He reached out a weather-beaten hand and lifted her chin until she looked into his eyes. “But none of them were Chriso Alma.” She smiled, and he patted her on the arm. “I wish he could have been there to see those stars pinned on your sleeve.”

  Minu looked down at the circles of five stars on the sleeves of her black jumpsuit. When they colonized Bellatrix, many tribes brought tools essential for survival, but some also brought wealth and riches. Craftsmen forged the gold-platinum alloy stars used to identify the rank of the Chosen from the precious metal to remind them of mankind’s folly. Three gold stars gleamed on Jovich’s sleeve, reminding her how far she had to go.

  “Have you ever wanted to be First?” she asked him suddenly, without really thinking about the question.

  “Good Lord, no!” he exclaimed with a laugh.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m a scout. I come up with ideas, I serve The Concordia as best as I can, and I advise those in power. If I were in charge, I don’t know who I’d turn to for advice, so here I stay.”

  For the first time, Minu wondered how old he was. He looked quite a bit older than her father. She was about to ask when the tram stopped outside the Chosen Plaza.

  “Home sweet home,” he said and hopped down, almost as if he could feel the question trembling on her lips.

  “You’re working tonight at the portal?” she asked as they walked into the paved square.

  “Yeah, they prefer having one of the old-timers on watch. We’re less likely to panic and do something stupid.” Minu thought that made sense. She didn’t yet know what her first duty was, but she hoped it was working with him.

  “If you get off early, come by, and I’ll make you some dinner.”

  “I just might do that,” he said and waved. Minu watched him until he walked up the steps to the portal building. She’d stopped next to the old oak tree that descended from the one the first colonists had planted. Looking down, she read some of the names etched into the tiles around the trunk. The ceramic concrete tiles would be around for thousands of years after she was dead. The name at her feet made her smile. Mindy Harper, First Mayor of Tranquility. Mindy was her ancestor, and in many ways, the
reason her tribe had survived and become preeminent in the world.

  Minu squatted down and touched the tile, remembering when she was a little girl, and her mother first showed her where her family came from. “Mindy outlived all her children,” her mother had told her all those years ago. “Only one grandchild carried her genes forward. For a couple of generations, only one or two of her line survived.”

  “So it’s luck that I’m here at all?” she’d asked in youthful innocence.

  “In many ways, I think you’re right.”

  Minu rode the lift to her old apartment and went in. No one was pressuring her to move her stuff out, but she didn’t want to waste any more time. This was the apartment of the First Among the Chosen, not a young five-star fresh from training. She spotted her bag, delivered by the airline, and picked it up. She was moving into her billet today, and she wanted to close this phase of her life.

  As Minu unpacked the bag, she noticed a bundle inside she didn’t recognize. She opened it, and a shiver went up her spine. A simple belt with a sheathed knife fell to the floor. Her hands shook as she picked it up and drew the blade. The length of steel gleamed in the apartment’s lights, except where tiny flecks of dried blood adhered to its surface. Her hands shook so hard, she dropped it. It was the knife she’d used to kill Alexis Krum. A year later, she’d not yet reconciled the events of that tragic night.

  When Minu had arrived at Steven’s Pass and joined her class, she’d quickly reunited with her friends, all of whom the Tog had also named Chosen. For a of couple days, they’d maintained an unofficial silence about the Trials. During a free afternoon some weeks later, they’d sat quietly in the corner of the rec center and talked. Each told what they remembered, and they’d tried to piece together what happened.

  The raft had capsized and knocked Aaron and Gregg unconscious, and Pip had nearly drowned when the raft rolled onto him. Cherise had fought two of Ivan’s boys, then the bastard himself. She remembered, in gory detail, stabbing him through the neck. None of them knew what had happened to Minu between the raft’s capsizing and the knife fight. She’d almost told them the truth, but shame and honesty had fought a deadly battle inside her.

  Minu had wiped away a tear as shame won, and she’d kept the truth to herself. She’d locked it away deep inside her and turned back to the others. What she’d really wanted to know was why the truth was hiding.

  The Chosen had questioned Ivan first, despite the severity of his wound. He’d quickly woven a complicated tapestry of lies. When they’d questioned Minu’s friends, they hadn’t asked for their stories, they’d read them Ivan’s account and expected them to validate it.

  “We were all in the room together,” Cherise had told Minu, “it was a horrible situation. We were scared to death. If you looked at the big picture, Ivan could’ve claimed we started it!”

  “But they attacked us.” Minu had plead them to tell the truth. “Worse, the bastard who orchestrated the whole thing is now Chosen too!”

  Ivan had been in the meeting hall the morning Minu arrived. He’d caught her eye and winked at her. The scar tissue on his neck was very visible, making his appearance more menacing.

  “Someone died, Minu,” Cherise had whispered harshly.

  “You don’t think I know that?” Minu had snapped, her hands shaking, “I’m the one that killed him after he—” She’d stopped suddenly.

  “What?” Cherise had asked.

  “—after he attacked me,” she’d said. Cherise had narrowed her eyes in suspicion. None of them wanted to revisit that horrible night. The discussion was over. Whenever anyone asked her about the Trials, Minu refused to talk about it. If they persisted, she would unceremoniously walk away. Eventually, everyone stopped trying. Minu suspected her story wasn’t the only painful one from the Trials, but she had no interest in forming a support group.

  Minu sat on the floor of the apartment crying, the knife lying in front of her, and the contents of the bag scattered about. She didn’t remember flinging anything around the room, but that was obviously what she’d done. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she asked herself. She slammed one fist, then the other into the floor. She cracked the tile with one.

  She held her right fist up to her face. The cybernetic arm, more than the damage to her psyche, reminded her of the lifelong effects of the Trials. “The Trials are a unique experience, Minu. They change you in ways you spend the rest of your life trying to understand.” Her father’s words echoed in her mind. Then she recalled the words of one of the nurses. “I have an uncle who was in the Trials twenty or so years ago. He came back so messed up, he doesn’t talk about them very much.”

  Minu looked at the cracked tile and hoped no one was home in the apartment below. She examined the cybernetic hand and found no damage. Good, solid Concordian engineering. I wonder just how tough it is, she said to herself as she got up from the floor and brushed the dust from her jumpsuit. She decided bawling like a little girl wasn’t doing herself any good.

  Minu rode the lift down to the office and returned with a stack of collapsed boxes. She assembled them and started in her mother’s room, working methodically to pack away a lifetime of memories and possessions. Now was not the time to decide what to get rid of and what to keep. Her father might still return.

  She meticulously labeled each box with the room it came from and a list of the contents inside. Precision was a Chosen trait. She paused briefly to relieve herself and eat a sandwich. When she packed her room, she found a beautiful half-karat sapphire pendant on a golden chain. She smiled as she remembered happier times. Minu lovingly packed the necklace in one of her mom’s jewelry boxes, which was sitting with the things she planned to store.

  As the sun set, she stood in the doorway next to several tall stacks of boxes. She’d told the facility staff she wanted them stored. There was nothing more to do. This was the only place she’d ever lived, the place where her earliest memories resided. She’d taken her first step here. A bit of wall still showed a slight discoloration where she’d drawn a picture with markers. And there was the chair her mom had been sitting in when…

  Minu buckled the belt around her waist, the knife and scabbard riding high on her right hip. She hadn’t worn it in more than a year, but the weight was still comforting and familiar. It was kind of like a friend she’d been missing but hadn’t realized was gone. She picked up the duffel holding the few things she’d need and opened the door. She locked the apartment and walked away without a backward glance.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 2

  September 5th, 515 AE

  Eastern Industrial Complex, Serengeti, Beezer Leasehold

  “This is Chosen Minu Alma, human, in service to the Tog, requesting a conference with warehouse master Kl’kl’taan.” Minu waited while her translator turned English into Beezer.

  Minu and Cherise stood outside a huge goods warehouse, a short trip from the capital city. “I hate coming to Serengeti,” Cherise grumbled. Minu nodded. Serengeti wasn’t the real name of the planet. The Chosen had a long tradition of assigning their own names to most planets, especially since the real names were often completely unpronounceable by humans. The Beezer resembled bipedal bison, and their world was an endless plain of grass with occasional rolling hills and forests, so the name was a no-brainer. They’d heard many stories about places on Earth, including some about the vast plains of Africa, and they’d named many worlds after those places.

  “Chosen Minu Alma,” came a voice over the speaker, “Kl’kl’taan is unavailable at this time.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Minu spat.

  “I do not understand your query into the siring of Kl’kl’taan’s forbearers.” Cherise snorted, and Minu gave her a dirty look.

  “Please inform Master Kl’kl’taan this is our third day here, and we are still waiting for the consignment promised the Tog on invoice number…” She rattled off a long number in tongue-bending Concordian script.

  “Master Kl’kl’t
aan will be informed of your visit.” The speaker went dead, and Minu turned back to their vehicle. Normally she’d be thrilled to fly around in a Concordian-manufactured transport, but she had to live in it. The craft resembled a long tube that was flat on the bottom and had a rounded nose made of mostly transparent moliplas. The design made it easy to fly and haul large amounts of cargo through portals efficiently. Housing two humans for extended periods was not part of the design.

  “This sucks!” Cherise said as they climbed back inside. The seats configured to their bodies as they climbed in, and the unmistakable smell of lizard penetrated their noses as they opened the gull-wing doors. “Why can’t the recyclers get rid of that smell?”

  “The guy in the motor pool said this was T’Chillen surplus,” Minu explained for what seemed like the thousandth time. Boredom made any conversation welcome, no matter how many times it was repeated. “He thought the smell was intentional but couldn’t find the source. It’s probably a fine perfume to the snakes.”

  “Smells like rotting snake ass to me,” Cherise said as she reluctantly closed the door. The efficient Concordian design meant the vehicle lacked windows, and it wouldn’t fly without the doors closed and locked. Once they sat and Minu keyed in her access code, they felt the tingle of the restraining fields coming on, and the power plant hummed to life. Minu drove, as usual, deciding to forgo the automatic radar-controlled pilot. “You’re going to get in an accident, you know that?”

  “Shut up and sniff snake ass!” The gravitic impellers spun up smoothly and lifted the transport gracefully off the ceramic concrete landing pad. A few dozen meters off the ground, they rose into the forest canopy, and the warehouse disappeared. “The Beezer love to hide things.”

 

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