crispina kemp

Chapter Forty-One of my current wip. As before, all and any comments very much appreciated

Please note: This is a weekly post

When the sea-goat Nozim rose up to sit on the star-seat, and thereafter had come continuous rain for several nights, Zem Jess asked Cela-Byi if this was the beginning of the wet season. Cela-Byi laughed. “This is rain. It comes, it drenches, it goes.”

“But I’ve been here nearly three moon-cycles, and this the first rain.”

“Here on this god-hill, maybe. But plenty times rain in our valleys. How else we Itamakku live if without water?”

That had been their first night together in the hive he’d built for her. Now the monkey Tiki sat on the star-seat, and this morning her Zem Jess knew rain – even here on the god-hill.

The wind had brought the clouds in the night. Great mountains of tumbling clouds, glinting and pale when first arrived, now as grubby as infants left to crawl freely-kneely within the dow-guard. And that’s how those clouds now looked, like infants scooting around on their bellies.

No one had risen early that morning, for without the sun the hives’ wakey-calls didn’t work. But Zem Jess had woken, disturbed by Cela-Byi.

“You sick again?”

It wasn’t her fault she was sick of a morning. Didn’t he know about growing a baby? Yet every morning, that same question. She’d thought he’d be happy. A baby, god-given. Her chest swelled with joyous anticipation of the day she could place that baby into his waiting arms. Maybe he was annoyed at her for not catching the baby sooner. She too had wanted to be the first Itamakki to birth a god-given child, but that long-clawed cat Tawan had taken first. Was Jess jealous of his friend Kookka? Yet she saw no sign of it.

He slid up the door-screen and planted himself in the opening, inhaling deeply of the rain-soaked air. She joined him, and his arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her in close.

“This is rain,” she said. It drummed the hard ground, great rods ricocheting to splash into the open hive. Puddles formed, rapidly drained. Rivulets streamed outward of the centre. The rush of those streams down the steep-sided hill drowned out all other sounds.

“How long does it last?”

“Best to ask Tiki. Maybe a day, maybe many. Maybe it stops just like that.” She held up her hand and clicked thumb and fingers. But that only made the rain fall harder. “Nothing to do but to wait. We could die?” She rubbed herself against his leg. But now she grew a baby, he no longer wanted to bump her.

“I need to get to my hive.”

“But Zem Jess, no one seek you in this rain. Let’s close that screen and…and I can cook—” But no, she couldn’t, for the fire and the oven were outside. Would the caterers bring them food today? Probably they’d take it to Jess’s hive.

Jess heaved an annoyed-sounding sigh, his head wagged in definite annoyance. “There’s nothing for it but to get wet.”

His booted feet found every puddle. His yellow jacket clung to him like a wrinkled skin. His sunshine hair hugged his head and fell over his face. And he was gone. Back to his hive.

With her Zem Jess gone, Cela-Byi sat on the floor and watched the rain. When an unmeasurable time later she heard the commotion she was the wrong side of the hives to see what was happening. Monza voices calling Monza words that said nothing to her – except here was panic, here was fear. Several voices called for Zem Jess. Ought she go see? Or was she best to stay safe in her hive? Whatever it was, she wasn’t surprised, for Tiki now sat on the star-seat. Mischievous, meddlesome Tiki.

Tawan called out to her across the distance between their hives, “That’s Cela-Kuci. All that noise? Come to take back your stolen life. Scared?”

Cela-Byi shouted back at her, “It’s you should be scared. You come here to kill me and haven’t.”

But for all her brave words, she shrugged her shoulders into her grass-cape, tied tight its every tag, rammed her conical grass hat on her head, and barefooted splashed through the puddles to beyond the eastern hives to where the irate Itamakku, one hand holding rain-spoilers above their heads, their other hands holding knob-headed sticks, faced the colourful Monza.

*

Jess firmed his jaw. The Tech-issued wet-weather gear of long hooded-jacket that reached to his calves wasn’t his favourite item of wear. Made of the same silken film as all Tech-issue wear, it had twice, maybe thrice the density. It would keep out the rain.

He pushed his way to the front of the Monzas, noticing how many rested their hands on their stun-guns. He scowled. At least they otherwise struck no offensive poses, unlike the Itamakku with their clubs. Yet their party was small. Jess guessed the handful of Itamakku men to be the chief’s closest kin.

“Our zem deigns to join us,” Antel sneered.

“Zem Jess is the chief here.” Armar ignored the medic and addressed the Itamakku in their own language. “It’s to him you must speak.”

“What’s this about?” Jess asked Armar and, despite the hood, caught his deputy’s dark look at the medic. He turned to the Itamakku chief who sheltered beneath the biggest roof-like rain-spoiler, his body hung with shells and teeth which, regardless of the cover, dripped. “Anji-Tiki-ta, you come a great distance beneath this heavy rain. This is not to greet us nor to bring us gifts.”

Ought he to address Cela-Kuci as well? The spirit-woman’s face was set in harsh wrinkles, her lips all-but swallowed. He waited, eyes held on the old woman. Would she speak?

She stepped, once, twice, to one side, her neck stretched like an ancient tortoise to peer beyond the gathered Monzas. And seeing her quarry, she pointed. “There she is! I’ll have her life.”

As yet Jess couldn’t see which of the Itamakki the spirit-woman had seen. Was it one of the Kuca women, sent to fetch Cela-Byi back to the dow? Or was it Cela-Byi herself. His answer was soon given as the Monzas stepped aside to allow the grass-caped woman passage.

“With respect, Cela-Kuci, you will not have her life. Cela-Byi—”

“Is not her name. She stole it. Anji-Tiki-ta tell you. Tiki…?” she turned to the chief.

Anji-Tiki-ta made a small motion with his hand, like he was waving something aside. But he didn’t openly say it.

Jess held out his hand to beckon and welcome Cela-Byi to his side. “With respect, Cela-Kuci, you will not have her life. Cela-Byi is my chosen woman – bonded. I have her life and the life of the baby inside her.” He nodded as if a child in the nursery saying, “So there.”

Anji-Tiki-ta turned his head enough to look at Cela-Kuci. Apparently that was a prompt.

“This false star-man Kija has trespassed, has seeded life without star-spirit Kija’s consent. And also without my consent.”

“With respect, Cela-Kuci.” Cela-Byi took this form of politeness from Zem Jess’s speech. “Why would he need your consent when I am a spirit-woman also?”

“False spirit-woman.” Cela-Kuci spat on the rain-sodden soil and ground it in with her heel.

“Made spirit-woman by you,” Cela-Byi answered her.

Jess again grabbed her hand. “False or true, consent or no, this woman is mine. Now, you trespass. I suggest you turn around and go.”

But Cela-Kuci wasn’t ready. “Li-Tawan and Li-Manula. What have you done with them?”

“The women you sent here to kill me?” Cela-Byi asked.

“We’re here.”

The Monzas parted again, now to allow the two Itamakki through. They lacked Cela-Byi’s grass-cape. Instead, they had draped themselves in grey bedding-sheets.

Kookka and Joel had remained quiet but now stepped in to claim their women.

“As with Cela-Byi,” Kookka said, his arm wrapping around Tawan’s waist, “my woman, my baby. Mine.”

Jess leaned-in to him and said in Monza, “You learned their speech just in time.”

Joel repeated Kookka’s words, an arm around the shoulders of his Segul.

Again, Jess leaned-in closer to speak in Monza, now to Joel. “You’ve ‘seeded’ Segul too? You haven’t said.”

Joel’s expression admitted his lack – lack of seeding and lack of fluency in Itamakkuese.

Anji-Tiki-ta signed the old spirit-woman to stand back. He said something to her, very quiet and very fast, and her face flushed rotten-fruit red. He nodded and turned back to Jess. “Though star-men trespassed to seed our women, now it is done you must keep them.”

“No!” Tawan disengaged herself from Kookka. “No, Anji-ta, no Cela-Kuci. I don’t want to stay. I want to return. I have god-given knowledge, I give to dow.”

“Is done, is done,” Anji-Tiki-ta said.

“You know,” Kookka said quietly as they returned to their hive, “now might be a good time to leave the Tech-controlled Monza.”

Jess turned sharply to look at him. It had been their plan since leaving Colabri, always waiting for the right place. And Jess did admit this might be it. But…

“How can we do that when we both have women who are growing babies? You heard Anji-Tiki-ta, what’s done, is done. We couldn’t go to their dow. They’d not accept us. And you don’t seriously believe we could survive alone?”

“There are other dows.”

“No, Kookka, we can’t. Or not yet. We’ve been here less than a year, we’ve plenty of time.”

“We’ll have no time if the Techs return. We’ll be meat on their plates. I can’t believe they do that, that disgusts me.”

Jess nodded, a side-glance at Cela-Byi. They’d been speaking in Monza, she hadn’t understood. He pulled her in close. To live with her, with her people, to follow her ways? Could he really say he was ready for that?

Continues next Monday

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed.

All comments welcomed and appreciated

Chapter Forty of my current wip. As before, all and any comments very much appreciated

Please note: This is a weekly post

“The short-sighted Techs,” Jess said on his return to the textile farm with Esplin, the newly assigned domestic operative. “They trained only one operative to work the irrigation plant. Fortunate for us that Poalt took the time to show me.”

Jess wasn’t about to repeat that lack of foresight. He instructed Eulal and Niapse as well. He then left them to repair the damaged wall. He had a heap of reports to write – or rather, to rewrite. Since moving out of Hive One, Armar’s attention to his deputy zem duties had frayed. Maybe his closer association with the medic pulled and refreshed the memories of his former occupation. Maybe he’d rather be an apothecary than a zem? Jess couldn’t blame him for that, especially now they’d no Techs to make the decisions and control the clutch.

He’d just settled to his task when Kookka appeared in the doorway. “You’re needed. Miax and Zeke have just brought in our walker.”

“Canipse? Where is he?”

“They’ve taken him to Hive Two – for now.”

“How is he?”

“Two parts removed from death. That’ll teach him to dip his toes in the sea.”

“Dragons?” Jess didn’t wait for an answer but was fast to his feet and following Kookka to the medic’s hive. Miax and Zeke had laid the scabbed and torn bundle of bones on the low table in the front cell.

Antel looked up as Jess entered. “Profuse bleeding and he’s gone into shock. I can stop the bleeding – if Armar can find the right med in the Techs’ store. Dov’s fetching blankets. More?” Antel shook his head.

Armar pushed past Jess and Kookka to deliver a small vial to Antel. “Do you need a needle? Intravenous? Only I couldn’t find any.”

Antel grunted. “Dribble it into his mouth, that’s fine. We’ll have to massage his throat, his muscles aren’t cooperative. A wonder his heart still beats. What the Pendoling Bells was he doing out there alone?”

“Best you ask our wonderful zem,” Armar said.

“He wanted to go,” Kookka spoke before Jess could.

“And we were keeping an eye on him,” Zeke added.

“Yea,” Miax butted in. “Even though he’d gone way beyond our range, and we had to fly in shifts to reach him.”

“A wonder he lives,” Antel said.

“Stubborn,” Jess remarked. He bit back the words he could have said in his defence. That he’d given Canipse a map, he’d insisted he took supplies and the makings of a shelter. And as Zeke had said, they were keeping track of him. But the slug-wit would have to dally down by the shore. Though he hadn’t asked he assumed that’s where they’d found him.

The Techs’ drug worked, the blood clotted. Canipse’s heartbeat strengthened. But he didn’t regain consciousness. Dov and Antel transferred him to his own hive and Inch swapped cells with the healer, Dov, so Dov could attend him.

“Fever,” Dov reported. To Antel. Jess received the report third-hand. “The bite’s infected.”

When Joel brought Jess that update, he was taking a much-needed break, stretched out with Cela-Byi on a patch of grass close by her small hive, where aften they lay at night to look at the stars. But now the fierce heat that had roasted them since their arrival was ebbing into something altogether more refreshing. Cela-Byi said soon the rains would come.

“The bite’s infected?” Jess said. “That’s a killer.”

“What’s the big concern?” Cela-Byi asked him. And when he repeated it in Itamakkuese, she was up on her feet and heading into her hive. “I can heal dragon bite.”

Joel watched her before looking to Jess for a translation.

Jess had already regained his feet. He spread his hands. “She says she can heal the dragon’s bite. They’re her spirit-kin. But also, she has local knowledge, so maybe she can.”

“Why don’t you give her our speech? It would be easier.”

“No. Easiest would be if we spoke hers. We need to understand their culture.” That was their purpose here – officially, though since seeing that cave-drawing he queried it daily. And how much could they learn simply by looking? He had learned far more from Cela-Byi, though her talk of the spirits made little sense to him.

She returned with a pottery bowl, a fresh spicy scent loud around it. “Where is he, which hive?”

“I’ll take you.”

“This I have to see,” Joel said, perhaps to himself, following behind Jess and Cela-Byi.

At Hive Five, Antel blocked the door before he even knew their mission.

Jess explained, “Cela-Byi says her local medicine will heal Canipse.”

Antel peered into the pottery bowl.

“Spice spirit out-fevers the fever, spice spirit chases away badness,” Cela-Byi said, and Jess translated. Antel raised a sceptical brow. “Root-fibres for padding around bites. Infusion to drink.”

Antel stood aside though he wouldn’t allow them to be alone with Canipse. He watched even as Jess watched, peering over Cela-Byi’s shoulder as she scoped the pulverised root from the bowl and padded it over the swollen flesh around the bites, the skin so hot it seemed to sizzle on first contact with the poultice. But Antel wouldn’t allow Cela-Byi to dribble the remainder of the juice between Canipse’s slack lips. He motioned for her to give the bowl to Dov.

“I’ll make more,” Cela-Byi backed out of the hive.

Jess had seen what she called her spice pots, too small to contain very much. “What happens when you’ve used it all?”

“Then I gather more.”

“Is it easily had?”

“Spice spirit shows me.”

“Would spice spirit show Armar?” This could be a way to heal their rift.

“If Armar asks me.”

Two days later Joel arrived at Hive One with a message from Armar. Armar didn’t speak Itamakkuese, so Armar couldn’t ask Cela-Byi for her help. Jess chuckled at that. Couldn’t, or wouldn’t?

“No, I have the perfect solution.” Why hadn’t he thought of it before? It was that talk he’d had with Joel. It was fine for Joel to teach Tawan and Segul to speak Monza when they were just two Itamakki amongst thirty Monzas. But the Monzas were thirty amongst several hundred Itamakku. It made more sense for the lesser to learn the speech of the greater. Jess had acquired their speech in the psi-sphere. His clutch could do the same, taking it from him.

On further thought, he amended that. His obs team could take it from him, and he’d give it to the three overseers. The overseers could then pass it on to their operatives.

“Is everyone able to access the psi-sphere?” Joel asked when he joined Jess and Kookka later that evening in Hive One.

“The Fire-keepers on Colabri use the psi-sphere, and everyone here has been there.”

Joel sat back, relaxing into the deeply comfortable back of the front-cell’s long seat, a beatific look to his face. “To compose songs to my Segul, songs she’ll understand in all their artful nuances.”

Kookka and Jess exchanged a look.

“Wait till his playing and plunging starts to bear fruit,” Kookka said. “Baby-bumped Itamakku aren’t so sweet.”

“Tawan?”

“So she says.”

Jess suppressed a shudder, not to alarm his friend. But he saw again the bones in that cave, the Itamakku women with their infants.

Continues next week

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed

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