Chapter Twenty-Eight of my current wip. As before, all and any comments very much appreciated
Please note: This is a weekly post
The door of Hive One was up, yet no sign of Armar. Too weary to worry about that, Jess pulled down the door behind him and flaked out on the deep seat. It had taken Brib, Zeke and Saker just two sessions to understand, enter, adjust, and become confident and competent in the psi-sphere. Armar had then added them to the fly-rota. Dorsin, too, had quickly adapted. But not Canipse.
Jess slowly released a deep quarried breath, his palms to his now-noticeably bearded cheeks, his fingers to his brows to massage away the tension. With his hands then flopped to rest on the seat beside him, his eyes sought the succour of…what? The gods? The Itamakku spoke of them, even thought Jess was one of them. The Techs too, they quoted beings in the Animosphere said to be gods. But not the Monza, they had no recourse to such higher beings. Alone in the universe. Unless, of course, they counted the Techs.
But this was avoidance. That’s what the Fire-keepers would say. Thinking irrelevant thoughts because the relevant thoughts seem unthinkable.
And that brought him back to Canipse. His observers had been up and flying after just two sessions, while six sessions later and Canipse still couldn’t connect with the psi-sphere. Something was holding him back. Fear, it had to be. Canipse didn’t want to enter the psi-sphere, afraid of what he’d find there.
Oh, and now you’re a Fire-keeper, all knowledgeable.
No, but it figured. Canipse had wheedled his way into the training. He wanted the control of a flier; he probably thought then he’d fly away to one of the other clutches, Seven or Eight being nearest, and fetch back a replacement Tech. But if that was his motivation, why wasn’t he able to enter the psi-sphere? What that catering overseer needed was time spent with the Fire-keepers. Or ought that to be more time? They’d help him enter the psi-sphere and face his fears.
“Short-sighted Techs, wanting everything in their sole control,” Jess let out a sub-vocal rant. “Never a record available to us. Every new team observing the breed-pool afresh, no previous to build on.” If he had access to records he’d be better able to judge what was wrong with Canipse.
Fear. But was it a wonder. Except for time spent on Colabri with the Fire-keepers this would be the first time most of the team, maybe all of them, had been without the Techs’ intrusion and control. He imagined they must feel like they were floundering, maybe losing their sanity. And now with the Itamakku and Banmakka ignoring the holos…
Jess allowed his thoughts to wander. A welcome relief after working with Canipse. What species were they, the Fire-keepers? They had the same mind-to-mind communications as the Techs and were easily able to enter the psi-sphere. But they wouldn’t allow the Techs a step beyond the landing bays. As to their appearance, Jess had never seen them.
He’d seen no one for the first ten days after arrival. Ten days alone in a cabin on a shore overlooking a green sea, food, water, and ablutions delivered by hands unseen while he slept. Later, he’d discovered those hands belonged to female Imms. At the time he’d thought those females accompanied by their twins, such was the usual Monza way. But maybe not. Ten days, by which time he’d thought himself crazy-headed, one charge short of an explosion. And that was the Fire-keepers’ intention. Ten days to clear the Techs from the Monza mind.
No Monza admitted they’d been to Colabri. And why would they, when it was to admit the Techs had scoped them up and dropped them there. For therapy. For counselling. To amend their behaviour. To create Monzas that the Techs could use again. For the Fire-keepers taught the Monzas in their care how to maintain stability when they were returned to the Tech-dominated endosphere.
It wasn’t until his second observer assignment that Jess realised all the Monza members of the GM Programme were single males. All bereft of their twins. That was the key, that’s how Jess figured it.
Monzas were twins, male and female. They suckled together, studied together, were assigned occupations together though maybe not doing the exact same job. He and Jilly had studied minerals, then he had worked as a metallurgist while she worked alongside him in data management. But he couldn’t return to that because…Jilly was dead.
There could be no greater trauma than the death of a twin. To be split apart. No longer whole. To live with a void within. Then to realise you can’t work as you did before.
But the kindly thoughtful considerate resourceful Techs reassigned newly-bereaved single male Monzas to the GM Programme, though not necessarily within a clutch. The STC-Transporters carried Monza caterers and domestics. And somewhere were textile operatives in Tech-manufactories turning out the Tech-issue clothing all Monza wore on the GM Programme.
This, Jess now reasoned, was why the observers took so easily to control of the fliers. They had all encountered the psi-sphere while on Colabri. It was part of the treatment, to quieten the raging rebel, to make them more malleable. Those Fire-keepers had a high success rate.
Jess looked up again at the non-existent gods’ domain, “Oh yea, we’ve learned to swallow it, to package it and keep it safely stowed so we’re no longer a danger to the Techs.”
Was this the truth? Every Monza member of the GM Programme a rabid rebel, snarling for the death of the Techs, for the Techs were responsible for the deaths of their sisters.
There were no Techs at the base, not anymore. That’s why he could think his thoughts, why he didn’t have to squash them and hide them. And if that applied to him, it must apply to the others as well. He wondered what their stories, how their twins had died, how obvious had been the Techs’ involvement. The Monza males kept those details close. He didn’t even know Kookka’s story, though anyway Kookka wasn’t much of a one for talk.
Relax. Allow your thoughts to range. The answers will come to you faster that way.
He had no choice but to allow his thoughts free range, too weary to guide them. But why these memories of Colabri? But of course, because of Canipse. Canipse had been on Colabri. Every member of the GM Programme had visited Colabri. It figured, He had reasoned that one long ago. But then had packed it away so the Techs wouldn’t find it. Though why he didn’t want the Techs to find it…? He didn’t want the Techs to find anything in his head.
“I know nothing about you,” he’d complained to Canipse. “That doesn’t make it easy to help you.”
“What do you need to know? I cook.”
“And collect stones?”
Canipse had looked away.
“What do you do with those stones? Use them to build walls? I can’t see you lugging them from assignment to assignment.”
Canipse had looked up sharply at the mention of building a wall. Now Jess wondered if he’d touched on a truth.
“Six sessions,” he’d told him. “Six sessions when both you and I could and should be doing other things. I can waste no more time on you. The next session – tomorrow – you’re into the psi-sphere, even if I have to knock you unconscious to get you there. Thereafter, you’re taking no more of my time.”
*
There was no one waiting for Jess when he arrived at the Techs’ hive the next morning. No Canipse. He sat on the Techs’ functional but uncomfortable chair near to the door, the screen left up. And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
No Canipse.
So that was it, he had decided rather than to face whatever scared him in the psi-sphere he’d leave the fliers alone. Which in turn meant he was no longer intent on fetching a replacement Tech. That pleased Jess – so long as there were no more intrusive Sankis. All other problems he was confident of handling.
“Our persistent stirrer has decided not to fly,” Jess told Armar when he returned to Hive One. “Which means you’re free to go observe.”
“You want me to do a pass of Toki-dow?” his deputy raised a knowing brow.
It would be pointless to ask Armar to check out if Cela-Byi had returned to the dow, and if so, had the Itamakku accepted her. How was Armar to recognise her when they’d never met? Ah, the one with the dragon skins, of course. Except by now she might have shed them.
“Hover a while. Record what’s happening, no matter how inconsequential.” Jess didn’t need to add that, Armar was as experienced as himself. It was his concern for Cela-Byi speaking.
“The exciting daily routines of an obs.” Armar slapped Jess on his shoulder as he left their hive.
Jess settled himself at the table to read through Armar’s reports, eight days’ worth made in his absence.
No further mention of Poalt and his hankering for a female, Itamakku or Banmakka. Poalt obviously valued his life. Though with his maturity triggered, Jess didn’t know how long that might last. He wasn’t unaware of what was happening with himself. If he’d not been responsible for this clutch, his resolve might have weakened, and he’d now be burying himself deep into Cela-Byi. To die.
He slapped that thought out of his head before it could gain a hold. But too late; images were rolling through him, again stirring the want in him. He brushed those away too and instead saw a flurry of images – of monkeys, deer, boars and their like, all merrily plunging into their respective mates. He blanked those thoughts and instead the memory sprang at him of freeing the Banmakka female from Poalt’s bindings. He had seen too much. Far from arousing him further, it repulsed him. He squeezed his eyes tight.
Back to the reports.
But how to focus when Cela-Byi claimed all his attention. He longed to touch. Simply that, to touch her again. And to be in her company. To talk. To discover more about her. He flicked his head back. That wasn’t selfish of him, for to learn about Cela-Byi was also to learn about the Itamakku. And that’s why he was here, why his clutch was here. Wasn’t it.
Well, according to the Techs, it was. But what if chance had given him a place. And that was a thought he’d not dared to think since leaving Colabri. Kookka too, aware of the potential with his nods, his head-tilts, the barely perceptible gestures.
The sun had passed overhead and now was descending into the west when Armar returned.
“All well?”
“At the dow. But at Hive Eight, no.”
“Why? What’s up?”
Whatever the news, Armar seemed to struggle to find the words. He returned to his ‘report’ on Toki-dow. “All was well there. Quiet. A normal day. But I thought it a wise move after the problems – Poalt, and the Banmakka attack – to take the flier across to the farms. All was well at Hive Seven. But there was a flier at Eight which shouldn’t have been there.”
“Canipse? I should have checked the log while I was waiting for him.”
“Would’ve done you no good,” Armar said. “I checked just now when I came in. Nothing.”
Jess jumped up, but without purpose. “Then who took it? Not one of our obs, they’d never lift a flier without filling the log. They know we need to know where they are. That leaves—”
“Dorsin, yea.” Armar’s face softened. “But I wouldn’t blame him. He couldn’t refuse an overseer, even if this one wasn’t his own.”
“Then it was Canipse.” Jess snarled the name. “That’s why he didn’t turn up for his session. But where’s he now?”
“That’s the problem. We don’t know. Dorsin says he just walked away. Out of the farm, heading for the perimeter. Dorsin waited but…no return. He couldn’t go look in case whatever had happened to Canipse also happened to him. Then the flier would be stranded at Hive Eight and with it not being logged, we wouldn’t know.”
Jess huffed, arms wrapped around his body. “Canipse, always Canipse. Though…maybe he’s wandered off in search of his wretched stones. But if something’s then happened to him…and that’s why he hasn’t returned.”
“It might prove useful if you come look for him. You speak the language.”
“You think the Itamakku have taken him?”
“Itamakku, Banmakka, one of them.”
Jess agreed, it was the best thing. But he’d no intention of going alone. “Right, where’s Kookka? And we might need Antel too?”
It was late in the day to be flying out to the farm. But Jess was reluctant to leave it till the morning. While waiting for Kookka and Antel to join him, he equipped the flier with psi-lights. How many would they need? He reckoned four. He’d have Dorsin remain with the fliers in case the rescue party also failed to return. The fourth psi-light would be for Tarad. Jess hoped the farm worker could use it. If he’d reasoned it right, there wasn’t a member of the GM Programme who hadn’t spent time on Colabri, and that meant most were familiar with the psi-sphere. Even if, as with Canipse, they preferred to forget it.
Continues next Monday
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crispina kemp 