Kyò banged incessantly on the door to rouse Thyathyrec for his morning assignments. She had found him sprawled on the bench last night in a pitiful state and somehow dragged him back to his dorm to put him to bed, after he had only cooperated as far as it had hurt him less to do the minimum effort of crawling into the chair than to lie like a sad sack as she yanked futilely on his arm. Once home, he had gotten up from bed in the middle of the night to throw up, but he didn't quite make it back to bed after he had, and now huddled miserably by the door in only his dirty underwear and gloves.
"Thya-ku," she scolded as she entered, "you need to take better care of yourself. What would everyone think if the colony's top scholar slept on the floor like a stray dog?"
Frankly, he didn't see the point. The whole ordeal with Piaròmine had shown him that he really only ever followed orders and didn't have any goals of his own. All that had made him happy before had gotten taken from him, and he couldn't even make the overwhelming feeling of futility stop. He felt like a living pile of depression and hurt.
"Go away," he mumbled.
"You have big work to do today! I have to get you to work." In her annoyance, she pulled at Thyathyrec's underwear to get him to stand, but it only came off as she pulled. His failure to even slightly react to now being completely exposed to her startled her into seriousness.
"Go away," he mumbled again, this time more quietly.
Realising her normal tactics wouldn't work anymore, Kyò frowned and walked to the closet in his bedroom, fetching a small blanket. With it, she covered Thyathyrec and gently sat him up. "Tell me what's wrong," she said softly, in a much more motherly voice than her usual demanding tone. "Are you sick? Do you want to sleep?"
For once in his life, he felt comforted by her presence. If that didn't portend the end of his world, nothing did. Well, it didn't do any harm in talking about it, he supposed—wallowing in hurt wouldn't make it go away.
Thyathyrec took a deep breath and steeled himself for a violent reaction. "Piaròmine's with Lyiyn."
To his surprise, Kyò merely pouted. "Oh, I didn't expect that to happen. They don't seem at all alike."
"No, they're perfect for each other," he insisted.
"I thought you and Pia-sy were perfect for each other."
He shook his head, having given the matter far too much thought. "She doesn't share my core values, and we don't like any of the same things. She and Lyiyn are really alike where it counts, and they'll have lots of strong kids to help the colony."
"But you like Pia-sy."
"...I love her."
"This must be hard for you, then."
He cringed. "I love her so much that I knew she would be better off with someone else."
"And you're sad because you know she's happier with someone else instead of you?"
Thyathyrec grimaced with frustration. "It's... I don't know what to do with myself. I'm just not happy with anything."
"What about your Cyiki-cy?"
The revelation startled him sober. He realised he did look forward to seeing Yrakc, even more when Mylikò had snuck him in to see her earlier than IЪel would have let him. Even Kyò realised that his getting to study something—someONE—entirely new filled him with an immeasurable joy. How had he not seen that?
No, it made sense. He had already made it a standard practice to compartmentalise work and private time. Plus, it felt – alien – to absorb himself in such an extraterrestrial just as human as he was, with the same weaknesses. He had probably pushed those feelings aside after his shift over feeling guilty about being infatuated with her on a level that transcended species. Why was that? She was a missing link in the pursuit of the truth, something that broke down the walls of everything they knew about the universe until meeting her.
She was also helpless.
He struggled to stand. "I have to go to her."
Kyò helped him up with a smile and a wink. "You should clean yourself before your date."
Thyathyrec raised his eyebrows at her, that she seemed to know his real feelings. Did he really wear his heart on his sleeve? If so, he wondered how it had caught Piaròmine and Lyiyn so far off-guard.
Shrugging, he did exactly as Kyò recommended, getting in a fresh shave and a shower, even letting Kyò give his hair a trim. His uniform at least let him out of having to decide what to wear, though he considered whether any accessories might help his appearance. Nah, better to stick with the basics.
He would have waited for Kyò to bring the chair around, but his revived heart granted him wings that made him feel like he could literally fly to the observation chamber. All of the pain he had endured before today almost felt worth it, for this moment.
A look of surprise crossed his face as he entered. Yrakc perked up with delight to see him appear and, noting his surprise, twitched her tail in curiosity as she approached the barrier, much the way she had excitedly twitched it when he had spotted her in the kehfyk tree. Her attitude seemed much improved, having had a bath, but her tail in particular had caught his attention, clean and bottle-brushy instead of dirty and matted. Where before her tail had twitched like a live wire, now it shook like a feather boa.
[You're a ckualer!] he said in astonishment as he hobbled over to meet her, beaming as he did. It astonished him just how different she looked from the first time they had met. In fact, it made a lot of sense—she had many of the same traits that a ckualer had while being basically human in shape, and it gave them a recognisable frame of reference in terms of understanding her biology.
Unfortunately, his comment seemed to have an adverse effect on her. [What?] she mouthed as her face fell, not quite believing what she had heard him say.
Startled, Thyathyrec hesitated, stopping a metre from the barrier as he felt a chill down his back. [A ckualer,] he repeated, some uncertainty in his voice. [It's an animal on our—]
Yrakc slapped the polymer where his face would have been, her tail becoming even more puffy as she screeched something unintelligible in a raised voice. Tears formed in her eyes as she turned, running behind the screen the others must have brought her and pulling a blanket over her head as she tucked her tail away. From her hiding place came a quieter version of the squawking sound she had made before.
Thyathyrec shook his head in abject confusion. "What did I say?" he asked no one in particular, gesticulating absentmindedly as he pondered what had just happened.
He glanced over at Zòlthen, who similarly shook his head. "She did the same thing when anyone else said exactly what you said."
"Really." Thyathyrec raised an eyebrow. "So our word for – the animal she most resembles – coincidentally happens to be an obscenity in her language?"
"Looks like it."
Frowning, he looked back toward his subject, hiding herself from the world and crying. He wanted to tell her he absolutely knew how she felt, that he identified with her pain, but he couldn't deny that the connection he had seen in the privacy of his dorm didn't seem to relate to the disconnect they had now. Something else had hurt her.
"Yrakc," he pleaded, touching the barrier. [We are sad for our bad words. We know not our words hurt your ears.]
[It's not that (anymore),] she mumbled after a lengthy pause—or so he guessed that she had said based on his piecemeal education.
[...I don't want to keep you here,] he added as consolation.
He could hear Yrakc sniffling, curling her tail even more tightly around her body. [I've been a (fool),] she cried quietly, almost as though speaking to no one. [(Why) did I (choose) to take this arihoun...]
He focused, thinking on their prior session, trying to piece together her meaning from context. The first sentence sounded self-depreciating.
[What is arihoun?]
[This arihoun! (Why) I'm here. (Why) I came to space and fell here to your planet, (only) to be (an experiment), when I was (intended) to visit the Star and be (useful).]
So she had a choice to take this mission and regrets it, he pondered, wishing he had gotten to choose his own fate.
[You know not that you come here,] he offered. [You have—]
[I atuhasdt my family!] she wailed, facing him again with teary eyes. [I left them without a second (thought)!]
[I don't know atuhasdt—] Before he could finish the sentence, he sensed a link in [atuhas], between "flight" and "emptiness." He couldn't describe it; it just felt like a sense of the etymology of the words.
[You abandoned your family? You left them there when you came to here?]
"Za'..."
[We humans also leave. My parents, most of our families left for mission. We explore planet, and space, and our people—]
[I (did)n't (do) it for the good (of) my people!]
Thyathyrec had no response.
[...what was I looking for.] She spoke with a spiteful tone, but her meaning couldn't have been more vague.
[Please tell me?]
Yrakc met his gaze. She stared for several uncomfortable moments before turning away again. Thyathyrec glanced up at the others, but their expressions suggested that they would leave it up to him as the one who understood her language the best.
This had become much more complicated than just trying to figure out who she was and where she came from. He didn't feel qualified or want to play therapist as well, as much as he genuinely wanted to help her. They already had limited time together, and he feared IЪel or some of the others would try to limit it even further, by means he didn't dare imagine.
[I'm sorry,] he apologised, trying to get her talking again. [I am sad, feel bad. I—WE want to help...] Here, he gestured around at Zòlthen and Mylikò. [...but we know not – way to help.]
After some time, she relented, but not without a fuss. [What (do) you want to know.]
[Well... what is you call your people with your words? We want to not be bad.]
She looked into his eyes, her expression that of an exasperated mother trying to explain something difficult to her too-curious child. [Our people have eight big (castes.) As (castes) go, I am called a (Jird). In my (specific) race, I am a (squirrel).]
Thyathyrec looked at her with astonishment. It sounded like the same word. [Is that word not bad?]
[You say it (in a patronising tone)!]
[How again?]
[You call me (like) a BABY.]
He seemed surprised. [We do?]
She gestured with her hands in exasperation. [It has a (degrading) sound (based on) – voice. You say it short, like I am a baby. I am big! I angry before, (always) called baby at home planet, you make me (remember) bad things.]
Oh. So she had gotten bullied before over this. [Sorry.]
Yrakc put her hands on her hips. [To say good, speak long word. S-QU-I-RR-E-L.]
So the language suggested increased or decreased respect based on length, somewhat like the colony's own honourifics. Using them showed respect. Not using them showed disrespect, if the speakers didn't have a close bond. "It sounds easy to insult someone on accident."
She raised her eyebrows.
[Easy to say bad word.]
She sighed. [You (also) need (context), to (guess) the more good (meaning) from what is not said.]
[I see. That is our words also, our language.]
[See?] Her tail twitched with an energy that somewhat unnerved him but did little to lessen her resemblance to the local wildlife. She pointed to it. [(Also,) you have no (tails), so more hard to read your – language. It is (like) talking to people with no eyes.]
He had to admit the notion of interacting with a people comprised entirely of those physically lacking an appendage would prove unnerving. Furthermore, the last amputee war veteran had died shortly after the last mission, leaving the rest of the colony without any physical reminders of the existence of such scars.
Reflecting on this in amusement, Thyathyrec held his staff behind his back and wiggled it about. [Does this help?]
Yrakc grimaced at him in evident discomfort, nearly laughing, but in such a way to show that she realised he was just trying to do his best. [It is not good.]
[How?]
She shrugged. [What you (do) with that stick? Why? It is not the same as your words.]
He frowned, lowering the staff as though in disappointment. [I need to try more again.]
She shook her head. [You can't use that stick (for) a tail. It is (like) using that stick (for) your hand.]
Oh. That made sense. He put down his staff. [Are you mad?]
Yrakc looked down. [Now, not (at) you.]
[Well, that's good.]
"What did you do?"
Thyathyrec started at the voice. He turned and stared blankly at IЪel, not the least bit certain what he insinuated. "Buh?"
"Cyiki has been remarkably uncooperative with the rest of us. She seems not to like anyone else besides you and grows anxious when you don't show up. She even asks for you by your full name and by pantomiming your limp."
"Oh." Thyathyrec glanced over at Yrakc with a piqued curiosity. Maybe it wasn't egotism after all? "Why would that be?"
IЪel held up some familiar papers covered with various words and assorted doodles. "What are these?"
He frowned, feeling a twinge of guilt. "I was trying to teach her our alphabet. Coincidentally, her race uses many of the same characters we use, but the letters are pronounced differently."
"That means you've not only made more progress than we have," IЪel scolded, "but you've also withheld this information from the rest of us."
Thyathyrec began to say something but paused, considering his words carefully. He didn't intentionally withhold anything, though he did realise he enjoyed talking with her to the point of being completely oblivious that everyone else couldn't. "It's difficult and time-consuming chronicling this amount of information. You know I remember—"
"You didn't even record your sessions!" IЪel threw the papers at him in anger. "We've lost a lot of time because Cyiki—"
"Yrakc," Thyathyrec finally corrected.
"What?"
"That's her real name, Yrakc."
IЪel blinked. "—she acts insulted because you've gained so much ground with her and has to start over fresh for everyone new who comes along. I've only discovered this after Ųòmel-cy noticed a sharp contrast in her behaviour after being with you!"
"I wasn't deliberately—"
"Save it! You are to record every session from this point on, from the moment you step into the observation chamber! You will dictate notes of everything you learn and, most importantly, you will not work without at least one other person present!"
Thyathyrec flushed red in a mix of embarrassment and defiance. He felt even more strictly controlled than before, but however much he deserved it, he didn't appreciate condescension of that level. Who did they REALLY have prisoner here, Yrakc or himself?
"...jyjųòdhòųth xdhòkjų thòyų lnyni laď jyllų thyi."
"Illndhjy'?" Yrakc cried in surprise.
"What did you tell her?" IЪel demanded.
"I told her what you wanted," Thyathyrec spat. "You want to know everything I know about her. Jyjųòdhòųth means they. Xdhòkjų—"
"Why did she act upset about it?"
Thyathyrec looked again at Yrakc, equally puzzled by her reaction. "I'm not sure. Ųynďy—"
"Nevermind." IЪel grabbed his clipboard and flipped past several pages. "First thing, we want to establish exactly how it is she arrived here and whether there are others of her kind—if so, what they are doing. The sooner we know, the better."
"She crashed in Tharďy Sector about two weeks ago and had been living off the land until we captured her. Originally, she was solo testing an experimental craft designed for short-range space exploration. Yes, alone."
"From what planet? How did she get here?"
"Dhallyųelly. How she got here, she doesn't know. She is a pilot, but the pre-programmed flight path went badly, and she was cast adrift, without the fuel needed to return. By all accounts, she should be dead, drifting endlessly through space, or on her own planet—not here."
IЪel considered this. "We've been analysing the craft, but nothing seems particularly out of the ordinary. The technology is on par with ours, although we will have difficulty reproducing the fuel it requires." Thinking further, he turned to Thamidhel. "What about the astronomy division? Have they noticed anything out of the ordinary?"
"No," she replied. "Archive records show the craft entering our atmosphere in the same way as a meteor or normal spacecraft returning to Elď. We would've missed it due to lack of staff monitoring the skies, except that it was large enough to hear the crash. Even then, it still took us several days to locate the crash site. If there were anything like wormholes, they've vanished without a trace."
"Damn it! This doesn't make sense!" IЪel threw the clipboard on the floor in frustration. "It could mean anything that she was just testing a spaceship. Her race might be readying an assault as we speak, now that they know they can survive here!"
The idea horrified Thyathyrec intellectually. "That's absurd. She's middle-aged for her kind. Their space program is the same as our mission, a pursuit of knowledge!"
"Thya-ku," IЪel snapped, "you know as well as anyone that the governing party is never entirely up-front with the lower-classes about its dealings. Need I remind you about the disappearance of over half our populace up until four years ago? Will we ever know where they've really gone? Further, would you have crippled yourself trying to escape if you believed in our government?"
He frowned. However he felt about the colony's social structure, he felt differently about Yrakc's. They had no good reason to distrust anything she said.
...did they? A pain shot through his heart just as his leg faltered, an unalterable remembrance of his promise to Lyiyn. He bit his tongue to keep from spewing forth the bitterness that entered his mind.
"Have you detected anything sending signals?"
IЪel blinked at him. "No? What signals?"
"If Yrakc really is a hostile agent secretly sending messages to her home planet, have you found any signals being sent?"
"Tham-sy?" IЪel looked at the astronomer.
"We have not detected any abnormal readings," she replied. "The craft had no signs of activity at all when we found it, as though it had run out of power years ago, possibly decades."
Then Yrakc had come unfrozen from her hibernation just from the warmth of the planet, rather than from a timer or automation?
"What exactly are you looking for?" Thyathyrec asked IЪel, tilting his head in disbelief. "What magic information will satisfy you that Yrakc needs to tell us about her completely helpless self?"
IЪel pointed a finger menacingly at him. "I'm looking for YOU to come clean about what's going on here. What are you plotting to do with the alien and her craft?"
"I'm PLOTTING to learn about her and her craft, like I would with anything ELSE that we've never studied before."
"I don't believe you. Something's up."
"Once again, I refer you to Ahfiamiďiec for your questions."
IЪel glared at him with impotence, both knowing full well that he grasped at straws. Let him have his tantrum, Thyathyrec figured. Blow off this steam while the ADULTS do some work.
Annoyed, IЪel turned and left the room in a huff. So far, it felt decreasingly like the date Thyathyrec had wanted, but he had no say in the matter, regardless of his title. He and IЪel had really set a good example to the scholars, huh... Shaking his head, he considered the best action to take *for the colony.*
He picked up the papers from the floor and walked over to the barrier, holding them up for Yrakc. "Review," he said, pointing to the papers. [We do again, for them.] He gestured around the room at the other scholars.
Yrakc glanced around at the confused newcomers. "We read words to you, yes?" she spoke clearly, pointing to them in turn.
Their audience gasped and clapped lightly. "Please do," Mylikò cheered, a grin on her face.
Thyathyrec flushed in anxiety. He had hated having the spotlight on himself since – then. He now also felt jealous of having to share, and so openly. If he thought about it too long, he found he would start to worry about how long it would take IЪel to decide they no longer had any use in keeping Yrakc – alive.
"This is Yrakc," he introduced, repeating the phrase in her language.
"Hello," she said clearly. "I am named Yrakc." She also repeated this in her language.
He held up the sheets with their names. "This is how to spell our names, in both languages. As you can see, Yrakc's language uses some of the same letters as ours, but many of the letters have different sounds." He would have to compile a chart later showing the exact conversion between the two, though that would be simple enough; he noted that her language used significantly fewer letters, besides that Yrakc struggled with the sound of the "missing" ones.
They went over a large number of basic words and grammar rules, fleshing out Thyathyrec's understanding of her language as he worked out the idiosyncrasies of hers, as Yrakc surely did the same with theirs. More than a few times, both the collected scholars and Yrakc herself gave a gasp of epiphany. Thyathyrec felt time fly by, only aware of its passage by how tired he had grown from standing for so long.
Once they had caught up, Thyathyrec decided to continue where they had left off the prior day. "Can you tell me more about your people?" He asked in both of their languages, for the benefit of the other scholars.
[Like what?]
Thyathyrec scratched his chin in thought as he translated for the others, trying to work out the most diplomatic way of getting the answers they needed. [What is the difference between a Jird and a squirrel?] He carefully remembered to use her pronunciation this time, lengthening the word as he did.
She nodded in appreciation, seeming pleased to share knowledge of her kind, yet at the same time a little sad. [As I said, the castes are our eight major groups. The minor differences of each race make each even more distinct from another. My race is better known for having brown skin, hair, and eyes. Other Jird races look similar but may have different colours of skin, hair, and eyes. My parents were just like me, but my husband was a Feline, with—]
"Feline?" Thyathyrec started at the word. [You also have {cats} on your world?]
Yrakc cringed again, this time visibly struggling not to lash out.
[...what?] he asked, feeling even more awkward now.
[How is it that your people have such disgusting words in your language?] she scolded.
"...buh?"
[Feline is the polite term. {Cat} is highly derogatory.]
The notion was so foreign to Thyathyrec that he felt a little dizzy. In a sense, it seemed reasonable with the emphasis on length as relates to implied respect, but nevertheless strange.
He glanced awkwardly at the confused scholars before proceeding to explain the problem. [So, we should say Canine and not – a different, shorter word? Do you have those?]
Yrakc tilted her head. [How did you guess that?]
Curious... [We have those—or something similar.] He thought for a moment. [Do you have people with hooves? Very hard hands?]
[Ruminants? Oh, yes! Their hands have three fingers, so they are also called "three-hand" people.]
He cringed. Better not try feeding her jòdh. [What about birds? Creatures with beaks and wings?]
She shrugged. [Birds are food, or pets. You can insult birds.]
Thyathyrec laughed. He translated for their bewildered audience, and they laughed, too.
[Your husband was Feline, though?] Thythyrec thought it might be intrusive, but he knew SOMEONE would ask, and he might as well try to soften the question as much as possible. [Did you have children?]
Yrakc smiled, but her smile faded quickly. [Not with him...]
Oh. "Uh, [we don't have to talk about that if you don't want to. I just meant—]"
[In general, could I have Feline children... It depends. Some castes can have children together, and others... They risk great danger to child and mother.] She hesitated, glaring at them collectively. [I am NOT breeding with y—]
"NO ONE IS DOING THAT," Thyathyrec blurted, blushing a deep red and holding up his hands in distress. They didn't need to add assault in the name of science to their growing list of "war crimes"! Now that the idea had implanted in his mind, though, he suddenly worried that she didn't have enough protection...
Yrakc hugged herself and looked downcast. [Might not even be an issue now, actually...]
Thyathyrec thought that he detected something unspoken in that statement, beyond the implication that she had aged out of reproductive ability. [Do you have {menopause}?]
[Buh?]
[When a woman stops being able to have children, due to age.]
Yrakc stared into nothing. "Yes."
[How old are you?]
[That's a rude question,] she scolded him, to more laughs after its translation. [When I left, I was 29 in my planet's years, still young. When I awoke, I felt much older. I don't know how old I am now, but I feel more like 49.]
Ouch. Thyathyrec figured that she must not have truly frozen, then, but had something more like cryosleeping. She didn't stop aging; she just aged more slowly, or suffered effects similar to aging.
[So they didn't send you away as an elder, but as a young person. Did you know about the properties of the cryogenic chamber?]
[I didn't even really know it was onboard until I was panicking at being cast adrift and had no other options except to thoroughly examine everything I could find. They must have installed it as an afterthought, since mine is an experimental craft, anyway. We're supposed to know everything that is on the craft, inside and out, but that must have gotten overlooked. Somehow.] Yrakc pouted a little, frustrated.
[How did you awake from the chamber? Your craft doesn't have any power left.]
She thought back. [The top had cracked open, and I guess I slowly woke up. I remember being quite cold, then just the littlest bit warmer, until I had fully risen and got back to my normal temperature.]
Something about that felt off, but none of them knew exactly how cryofreezing or cryosleeping worked to fact check her statements.
One of the scholars, Riariaď, held up her hand to ask a question. [How is your craft powered?]
"Oh, you speak well!" Yrakc praised. [Through rocket (fuel).]
[What is in your rocket (fuel)?]
[(Combustible) materials. I am not a (chemical engineer) to know which ones specifically. I do not know the properties of the fuel.]
A thought occurred to Thyathyrec. [Wait, no engineer? Isn't it unsafe to send only one person on a trip this long? Even within your own galaxy, surely that was more than a day trip.]
Yrakc suddenly stared into nothing. [Yeah...]
Thyathyrec felt the weight of a lot of luggage to unpack behind that simple agreement. He had started to question his own government, so did Yrakc now question hers?
[Why, then? Why send you alone?]
[Yes, why...]
Thyathyrec's blood chilled as Yrakc started to cry, trembling. "I, uh..." He turned to the scholars. "I think Yrakc needs a moment."
The crowd murmured amongst themselves, a few noting the time. "Lunch break?" chimed Zòlthen, and the rest agreed with a cheer as they started to pack up their things and leave.
Thyathyrec gently touched the barrier, wishing he could go inside and comfort her. Good job, idiot, he scolded himself. Made TWO ladies cry in so many days. You're a real piece of work.
