A simple hop
across hyperspace turns deadly, smashing hopes for a human-Warrish alliance
Nikki
and Kiron Ramis Bell, the unique Warrish-human duad, are studying the marine
life of Rishalt when they are summoned for an audience with the Prime. Tol-Jadel
sets them the task of investigating a hyperspace perturbation near Jupiter. This
anomaly threatens to sever the routes connecting Earth and Rishalt. They must
return to the ocean of Europa to identity the cause of the disruption. But,
tensions are rising between Warrish Watchers and the humans on Galileo Station,
and Earth’s governments are squabbling over the proposed alliance with the
aliens. Can Nikki and Kiron erase the obstacle before their home planets are
separated forever?
Chapter 1.
A dozen lengths below
the rippling surface of the sea, Kiron Ramis Bell rotated in a full circle,
alert for predators or the transparent threads of stingers. As he spun through
the water, he slowed to admire Nikki’s slim figure, her curves accentuated by the
wetsuit she wore, and her dedication to studying the marine life of Pallivan
Preserve. She crouched five paces away, her camera aimed at a sedentary triale.
Its slender stalk thinned below the three-petaled magenta top. As he watched,
the imitation flower broke away from its stalk and rose toward the surface. They
had discovered this phenomenon only yesterday, and she had woken him before sunrise
to record the budding.
His qtel vibrated. He
descended to plant his feet on the seabed, carefully avoiding the triales, and
read Sora’s message, “Come as fast as you can swim.” One of the Prime’s
daughters, Brisa Sora Tarlin Galamis had no need to justify her summons, and he
guessed she preferred to explain in person.
He tapped the qtel on his wrist and held out
his hand in mute invitation. She furrowed her brow and shook her head, clearly reluctant
to quit her observation of the triales. A large cluster of the flower-like
animals covered the bottom of this submarine valley. Nikki had already netted a
hexad of the mobile triales that were destined for an aquarium in Sora’s
laboratories.
Guilt washed over him. He ought to have taught
her the hand signs his people used underwater. She had so much to learn. They
both did. Living as a duad with the combined name of Ramis Bell was unique in
Warrish society.
As Nikki bent down to examine the triale, he
dove toward her. Holding her shoulders and pressing his lips to her ear, he
said, “Sora calls.”
She scrunched her face in annoyance. Instead of
complaining, she lowered the camera onto her chest, repacked her kit and tucked
it into the side pocket of her backpack. She knew how indebted they were for
Sora’s hospitality. They had spent five peaceful hexads living with Sora and
her triad sister, while Nikki collected data on the local wildlife. During the
day, they had explored the preserve, and in the evenings, they shared stories
of other worlds with the sisters. Sora had traveled widely before her triad settled
in Pallivan to manage the preserve. Sometimes, Viala would sing folksongs,
keeping time by beating a drum and rattling a string of shells.
He pulled Nikki onto her feet and pointed at
the surface. Shallow waves rolled across the calm sea. Something tickled his
sixth toe, and he glanced down at his bare foot. The stem of a triale snapped,
freeing a pink flower. Acting on an invisible signal, tiny pops sounded all
around as the entire field of triales released their mobile florets. Like a
flock of three-winged birds, pink, white and purple flowers shot upward,
fluttering in the currents.
Instantly, Nikki activated her camera to
capture the rising mass of petals.
As the florets drifted away, he grasped her
elbow, urging her to stop. She nodded and stowed the camera in her pack.
They kicked off simultaneously, swimming
through the green ripples toward the sunlight. Emerging above the surface
waves, he inhaled a deep breath to inflate his lungs. Low on the horizon, the rising
sun lit the wave crests, while the red crescent of the Rudea, third moon,
gleamed high in the cloudless sky. Twisting to face Nikki, he wrapped his arms
around her and kissed her lips. As they floated together, he said, “Honey
Nikki, Sora wants to see us. Fast.” He spoke Warrishan to help Nikki become
fluent in his language.
“Why?” Puzzled, Nikki cocked her head. “We’ve
been out for less than an hour, and the triales have only just budded. What’s
so urgent?”
“Sora didn’t say. It must be important. She
wouldn’t interrupt your studies without a good reason.” Sora and her sister,
Viala, were ardent biologists and shared Nikki’s love for nature.
Squashing her disappointment, Nikki grinned and
squeezed his arm. “Okay. Let’s race to the island.” They both wore jet tubes
for speedy travel in the sea.
“Urish,” he agreed in the convenient Warrish
word encompassing, “Yes,” “Okay,” “I see,” or “I’m on the job,” and a variety
of equivalent phrases in the Earther language.
With practiced coordination, they ducked under
the waves. Activating the jets, they zoomed toward their hostesses’ lodge on
the island of Primo Pallivan.
He glanced sideways at Nikki’s face. Her resolute
expression suggested the thrill of their race had swept away her initial
annoyance. Of course, he quickly drew ahead. He had spent his entire life
swimming in the sea and knew how to angle his body to maximize the thrust of
each ocean swell. Also, his combined adaptations of gills and lungs pumped
oxygen into his bloodstream more efficiently than her breathers, the artificial
oxygen extractors inserted in her nostrils.
In less than a sixth of an hour, the sea bottom
slanted up to the shore of the island. When he reached the outer reef, Kiron slowed
to allow her to catch up. In the shallow water, they switched off the jets, and
glided toward dry land. A beach of white sand sloped gently up to the coral-walled
residence. Purple fronds of zantal trees shaded a wide veranda, and its windows
opened onto cool rooms with floors of pale ocher tiles.
As they waded to the beach, Nikki caught his
hand. “I hope this won’t take long, so we’ll be able to chase after the mobile
triales. I wanted to trace their migration.”
Gripped by an uneasy foreboding, Kiron stifled
a groan. After four miserable years under an abusive First, he treasured every happy
moment with Nikki. But, their peaceful interlude couldn’t last forever. Did
this summons mark the end of their honeymoon? Unwilling to upset Nikki by voicing
his worries, he gestured to the veranda. “Sora is waiting for us.”
Their hostess walked to meet them at the top of
the beach. With her weathered face and practical clothes, Brisa Sora did not resemble
a lady of the highest rank. Indeed, their benefactrix preferred her occupation
as a scientist and overseer of the marine preserve to mingling with the fashionably
dressed courtiers in the Pearl Pyramid.
Brisa Sora crossed her hands over her heart and
uttered the standard greeting, “Calm Seas, Nikki and Kiron. Forgive me for
interrupting your studies. Please come in and take a seat by the fire.” She led
them up the wooden steps to the cool veranda, where an awning decorated with
shells shaded the sandstone floor.
Kiron stowed their jets in the wall cabinet and
slipped on the tunic he had left on a shelf. In his amphibious culture, bare
chests were extremely vulgar on dry land, while the opposite held true
underwater. When he returned, the ladies sat cross-legged on cushions around
the firepit. He took a subservient position, crouched on one knee behind Nikki,
ready to serve as her protector and adviser on Warrish protocol. She glanced
over her shoulder and reached back to tug him onto the cushions.
Smiling at Sora, she said, “We came quickly,
and we’re torn with curiosity.”
“Haste is needed. Prime Jadel has summoned
you,” Sora’s gaze flicked from Nikki’s face to Kiron’s, “both of you, to an
audience in the ninth level of the Pearl Pyramid.”
“An audience with Tol-Jadel?” Nikki breathed. As
First in the Prime triad, Jadel stood at the pinnacle of the hierarchical
Warrish society.
A smile flashed over Sora’s olive-green face.
“My exalted mother.”
“Sora, can’t you give us a hint of the Prime’s reason
for recalling us to Pucklerakt?”
In her blunt manner, Sora said, “No clue has
come to my ears. I swim clear of politics.”
“As we do, by preference,” Nikki agreed. “Whatever
Tol-Jadel wants of us, I cannot agree to act against the interests of my
people, the Earthers.”
“Her goals are ever subtle. You may be unable
to decide whether her demand will benefit Earthers or not.”
Exchanging a dubious look with Kiron, Nikki
said, “We’ll have to find out what she wishes.”
“Her
jetter will arrive in a twentieth cycle,” Sora said. “Jadel will not be pleased
by any delay in obeying her orders. I recommend you pack your possessions and
prepare for a journey. You might need to depart immediately after your
audience.”
“An
hour and a half?” Nikki protested. “Must we leave so soon? What about all my
specimens and the fish tanks?”
“I
advise you to prepare as well as you can. Don’t worry about your research
samples. If necessary, I can send your specimens to the Earther Embassy for
transport to your solar system.”
“You’re
very kind,” Nikki murmured. She glanced at him, cocking her head in a mute
appeal for his opinion.
Kiron
smiled fondly at her. As long as he traveled with Nikki, he did not care about
their destination. “We’ll be ready in the flick of a finger.” He took her by
the hand and they retired to their bedroom to pack.
* * *
First,
Nikki sat at the table and transferred the latest images of budding triales onto
her data store, the silver shell-shaped pendant she always wore under her
wetsuit. Next, she laid her clothes out on the bed and pulled on her best dress,
an ankle-length pink gown. Besides the dress provided by the Triarch’s
seamstresses, she had only a casual tunic, a spare wet suit and her overalls
from Galileo Station. Everything, including her biokit, tablet and camera, fit neatly
into her light travel pack.
Kiron
also had few belongings. His clothing comprised two white shirts, a durable winter
jacket and his best outfit for special occasions. He kept his prized
possessions in a pouch on his belt, the spy gadgets he had acquired as a
Watcher on Europa and the medical kit from his military service. Muttering a
mild complaint, he knelt to fasten well-polished boots on his wide six-toed
feet. She smiled in sympathy. Warrish seldom wore shoes, only for formal
occasions or when hiking over rough terrain.
She
paused to gaze at him, assessing the changes since she had met him at the party
on Pucklerakt. He wore the same slate blue jacket and glossy black trousers,
formal attire suitable for the audience with Tol-Jadel. After weeks of good food,
he had regained the weight he had lost during his exile on Obelle. His bruised
cheeks and haunted eyes had healed, and his angular features showed happiness
rather than wariness. The jagged scar under his left eye had acquired a silver
sheen from Jadel’s touch when she released him from the betrothal arranged by
his parents.
Irritated
by the Prime’s summons, she wondered how he could appear so calm. “Don’t you
find it strange that Tol-Jadel has called on us so unexpectedly? Aren’t you
upset about leaving sooner than we wished?”
“Why
would I be upset? We owe our union to the Prime’s generosity.”
“I’m
thankful she freed you from your family obligations. But, do you imagine she permitted
our marriage for our benefit? I’d guess she had an ulterior motive.”
“The
Primes are subtle. They follow hidden currents and knit the hyperthreads into
the destiny they desire.” Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her, then
murmured, “Don’t be anxious, Nikki. The Primes are never capricious. They
approve of our union and will not separate us on a whim.”
“I
hope you’re correct.” Signing in resignation, she said, “We’d better carry our
bags to the dock and say goodbye to Sora and Viala.” Easing out of his embrace,
she slung the pack over her shoulders.
“I’m
ready.” He lifted his pack and followed her out of the bedroom.
The
two Galamis sisters met them on the veranda. Viala, a shorter and meeker version
of her sister, hung back as befitting the Third in their broken triad. She
preferred to wear pastel shades of ruby, their triad color, while her elder
sister chose the darker hues as more practical.
Nikki
smiled at the two sisters. “Brisai Sora and Viala, we’ll always be grateful for
your kindness.”
Standing
at her side, Kiron gave a deep bow.
Sora
said, “My sister and I have enjoyed your company. We’ll miss your tales of
distant worlds.”
Viala
gave a shy smile and murmured, “Calm seas.” As the junior sister, she conceded
the bulk of the conversation to Sora.
Grasping
Sora’s hands, Nikki said, “I hope we’ll meet again, either here, or perhaps you
can visit us in my solar system.”
“A
wonderful idea.” Sora smiled. “Until we meet, we can exchange notes via our
quantels.”
Shrugging
in frustration, Nikki said, “Kiron has a qtel, but I don’t. After I escaped
from the kidnappers, I disgarded my com so they couldn’t track my location.” She
rubbed the bronze bracelet on her left wrist, thankful she hadn’t lost Kiron’s
gift.
“An
easy problem to fix.” Sora gestured to her sister. “Viala will fetch one of our
spares for you.”
“Urish,”
Viala agreed. She ran into the house on her errand.
They
waited quietly, gazing beyond the harbor to the open sea to catch the first
sight of the Prime’s jetter.
Viala
returned and fastened a qtel around Nikki’s wrist. Giving Nikki a brief hug, she
sobbed, “Farewell dear sister. We may never meet again. May the Great Mother
ward storms from your path.” Tears filled her eyes, and she raced inside the
lodge, ignoring Kiron in her sorrow.
Watching
her sister leave, Sora sighed. Then, she turned to stare across the waves and
gestured to the harbor. “Let’s walk to the dock.”
Nikki
walked down the wooden stairs beside Sora, while Kiron trod behind the two
women.
As
they descended, Sora said, “My sister is saddened by your sudden departure. She
still mourns the sister we lost to illness a half year ago. Viala hoped you would
stay and complete our broken triad.”
Appreciating
the strength of the triad bond, Nikki considered her response with care. “We
are sisters in science. Yet, I cannot complete a triad. It wouldn’t be fair to
Kiron. He has no triad. We are the Ramis-Bell duad.”
“Your
duad has the blessing of Tol-Jadel.” Sora’s eyes twinkled. “I have no
complaints. You and I share a love for exploring new worlds. Viala does not.
Notwithstanding the lofty goals of my exalted mother, we may indeed meet again,
even on a distant planet.”
“Brilliant,”
Nikki cried. “I’ll call when we have leisure to talk.”
Touching
her hand to attract her attention, Kiron indicated the harbor entrance. “The jetter’s
in sight.”
No comments:
Post a Comment