As usual, Kyò hung back a bit while giving Thyathyrec space to socialise, which he both appreciated and suspected at least partly had to do with her distrust of the military. Even Lyiyn hadn't improved her opinion of the soldiers, so he didn't expect her to like Cynie any more. Curious that she would end up on a military base, but maybe her husband didn't give her much choice—something that sounded all too familiar.
"Hello, mum," he called, knocking on Cynie's office door. "Your prodigal son has returned."
"Thya," she greeted familiarly, smiling warmly at their inside joke. "How've you been? I haven't gotten to speak with you since—"
"I'm aware," he returned, nodding in approval that she understood his feelings without having to be asked. Even among his peers, only Lyiyn spoke familiarly with him, which only made him feel even more ostracised. A twinge of guilt bit at him, also, since she had always had such a striking resemblance to his mother, and he found it tough reminding himself that she wasn't. "It's been difficult for me, as you might have expected. I've learned to live with the pain, though."
Cynie seemed disappointed. "You shouldn't have to live with any pain. What are our medics doing?"
"Painkillers lose their effectiveness over time," he noted. "The medics are taking orders from higher-up, even though medically speaking, I shouldn't be taking any more. Anyway, I mean besides the physical pain."
"Oh." She looked concerned, pondering his comment. "Yes, it's been tough losing our loved ones..."
"How have you and Thilen been holding up?"
Her face hinted at a smile but quickly faded. "Thilen doesn't know his father, doesn't yet realise he should have one. He's doing fine, but there are many days where he'll see me sad and not understand why I am."
"Has it been hard on you raising him alone?"
"Not really. Since losing most of our population, the colony's grown closer by necessity, I believe. I actually have Pia-sy sit for me once in a while."
"Was it by her request?"
Cynie smirked. "How did you know?"
Thyathyrec had to laugh. "I know her pretty well. She's trying to close the gap on Thilen being the youngest in the islands."
"Really?" She cocked her head in curiosity. "Only TRYING? I thought—"
"I wanted to wait," he interrupted. "Kept hoping our parents would return, 'cause I knew they would want to be at the ceremony. Piaròmine's given up, though, and getting impatient. I can't blame her, but at the same time, I have my own reasons."
"Having a child is a wonderful experience, Thya. I hope you're not just afraid of commitment."
"That's not the issue anymore."
"Really?"
Thyathyrec rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort. "I've kept it a secret from everyone, 'cause I didn't want everyone to get in a panic or send me back to sick bay until I die."
Cynie frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"
Sighing, he leaned against the arena wall, beating his fist against it absentmindedly. "A month or so after I recovered, I found something in Dhyròc's files that bothered me. It took some time to research without alerting anyone, but I discovered that his grandfather was one of the last immigrants to the islands—and a carrier."
The look on Cynie's face said everything, reminding Thyathyrec of a little girl who had just seen a pretty flower crushed underfoot. "...I see."
Thyathyrec suspected she was one of the few in the islands who understood the meaning of his words. Most of the old-fashioned elders left had stubbornly refused or avoided talking about disease and medical conditions, especially their own.
"So, Dhyr-ku's blood got into yours, and now you're infected?"
He nodded silently.
"Seven Heavens. I'm sorry."
"Don't be, Cyn. I'm just glad to have someone who understands the gravity of my contamination."
"Lyi?"
"He doesn't really get it. I guess he's still in denial or something, but he doesn't really seem to be taking me seriously, like I'll eventually get over it, or it wouldn't pass on to my partner or offspring. Maybe he even thinks I'll live for another hundred years."
Cynie appeared to be contemplating something, only half listening to his words.
"What?"
"You seem at peace with your imminent demise."
"Oh." He grinned weakly. "Being close to death for so long has a way of taking an edge off of it. I figure it can't be as bad as what I've been through already. Plus, all my affairs are in order for when the time comes, so I can die without impacting the rest of the colony."
"Liar."
Her remark caught him off-guard. "What now?"
"Your death is certainly going to impact the colony, and much more than you think!" Cynie crossed her arms as though channelling his mother, scolding him for misbehaving. "Not only have you helped the community in irreplaceable ways, all of us will miss you terribly! You seem to downplay how much we care about you that you can just never wake up one day and you think no one would notice."
"It's not—"
"Thya, you know that you're going to die soon. When were you going to tell everyone ELSE, so we could prepare as well? It's even more important with our numbers shrinking that it doesn't become worse for the rest of us when one person suddenly can't help us anymore."
"CAN I, though?" he protested suddenly. "IЪel sure is convinced that I'm 'dead weight.'"
Cynie raised an eyebrow. "IЪel has some other issues going on that only happen to involve you indirectly. Even HE ought to have some concern about your sudden death."
"Experience suggests otherwise."
"I said, 'ought to.'"
Thyathyrec still looked downcast, taking a seat on the bench for visitors.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Cynie ventured, taking a seat next to him.
He frowned. If he didn't feel comfortable talking with Lyiyn about it, why—
"Keeping it all bottled up isn't going to make things easier for you."
"I'd rather keep the pain to myself."
"We're all adults here, for the most part. We can handle a little pain, and a burden shared is pain halved."
He shook his head. "I'm not so sure about that. I'd sooner forget what I experienced than share it with someone else. There are some things I'd sooner never impose upon my mates."
"Then why did you come to see me?"
The question caught him off-guard, and he gulped in discomfort. "I guess..." he muttered, struggling to work out his feelings, "...I wanted permission."
"For?"
"For being a martyr."
Cynie nodded. "Well, we all have crosses to bear, Thya. Perhaps some not as heavy as others."
"I feel like I've let my parents down."
"Well, if I know them, they know you've given it your best. It may not be how you or they would have wanted, but ideals are a bit hard to meet, given the circumstances."
Thyathyrec felt the weight of the world pressing down on him all the same. "It just feels like things will be easier for me when I'm gone. I won't have so many things to worry about, like keeping secrets and who I'm disappointing."
Cynie just smirked at him. "You should get back to studies, all the same. Who knows just what you might discover, if you can hold out long enough?"
All the same, he didn't feel as inspired as she must have intended.
"C'mere."
Pulling him close, Cynie gave Thyathyrec a warm, crushing hug. It served to remind him of just how much he missed his parents, especially his mother. He had thought he had finished crying, but apparently the misery wells yet overflowed.
"Why did they have to go away," he moaned. "None of this would be happening if they were still here."
"I don't know," Cynie agreed. "I can't speak to our government, but I don't disagree with you. Nothing we can do about it now, though."
Did he dare admit the suspicions he'd had about Ahfiamiďiec to her? Cynie was a direct report; she might be sympathetic to his cause, even as she told Thyathyrec what he wanted to hear. He didn't want to hold such cynicism for the closest parent he had left, yet...
"I even wish I had been just one day older," he admitted as they let go of each other. "Then I could have gone with them. Just one day from majority, and everything would've been so different..."
Cynie nodded. "Sometimes I wish I hadn't had Thiren, if only so I would still be with Ɓlyath."
"I'm glad you did, for Thiren's sake and mine."
"Yours?"
"You're the only soldier bridging the gap between the youngest and the elders. Many of us respect you more than you realise—experienced enough to understand where the elders are coming from yet youthful enough to remember where we are."
"...I hadn't thought of it that way." She chuckled. "I hope you don't expect too much from me. Gotta give you a spoiler: Being an adult isn't too different from being a kid, but you have more responsibilities."
"I found out THAT much myself."
"Well, a huge secret is that a lot of us have absolutely no idea what we're doing. We just have to hide that from you younger lot to keep your respect."
"Even the higher-ups?"
Cynie groaned. "ESPECIALLY the higher-ups."
Thyathyrec laughed, but inwardly he also filled with dread. So it really wouldn't get any easier from here on out. He wondered what he could still do while he still had time.
Sighing, he stood to leave. "I should get back to my job."
Cynie nodded. "Don't be a stranger. I'd like to see you at least a few more times before you go."
"Like I'd know when that is."
She raised her eyebrows at him. "What that means is, please come visit again before I have to wonder if you've finally moved on."
Thyathyrec smirked. "I will, mum."
Her smile filled him with a warmth he hadn't known in so long. He regretted not seeing her more often, worrying that the next time would be in the cursed sick bay, on his death bed.
He returned to the observation chamber to see the other scholars interested in interviewing Yrakc. One of them held up one of the medics' posters of the human body, pointing to each part. From what he could tell, Yrakc was confirming that most of the parts seemed to correspond to her own, other than the placement of ears and human lack of tail. At least they didn't demand that she strip or—worse(?)—strip for her.
"And you breathe oxygen?" Zòlthen asked.
Yrakc tilted her head at the words.
"Do you—" He inhaled and exhaled. "—what comes from plants?" He drew a tree, grass, and bushes on some paper, then pointed to them, again inhaling and exhaling.
Yrakc considered this. "Za', jyilkyjų siďyjyilky." She also deeply inhaled, then exhaled.
So, whatever their plants excreted, Yrakc's people breathed that.
Thyathyrec hobbled over as Mylikò took a turn. She pointed to a female diagram, specifically the uterus. "Do you menstruate?" She gestured at her own crotch and made a downward motion. "Blood comes out?"
Yrakc thought on this. They hadn't covered a word for blood. "Red water," she spoke, making the same gesture.
"Do YOU bleed?" she asked, pointing at Yrakc. "Do you need something for the blood? We can provide."
[Do you need special cloth for the blood?] Thyathyrec translated.
"Illndh?" Yrakc looked perplexed, pointing at the chamberpot they had given her. "I can use the pot."
[You don't catch the blood as it comes out?]
[Why? I don't catch my urine or feces.]
[So you can control it?]
"...za'?"
Thyathyrec translated, to Mylikò's and Thamidel's astonishment.
"WE NEED TO KNOW THIS MAGIC," they shouted in unison.
Yrakc flinched, as did the males in the room. Apparently, the ones who couldn't control their bleeding envied the ones who could.
"Please let us have a sample of your DNA!" Mylikò asked. "If we could replicate this in humans, imagine how much the world would change!"
Thyathyrec translated loosely for Yrakc, feeling a bit confused but also hopeful that this would slow IЪel's disapproval for retaining a live specimen, as it were. Yrakc seemed astonished that humans didn't have such a basic ability and reluctantly volunteered to provide samples.
After the other scholars let up their questioning, Thyathyrec decided to finally offer Yrakc a turn. [Is there anything you would like?] he asked. [Do you have enough blankets and food?]
Her ears perked up. [Can you tell me about YOUR world?]
[What specifically do you want to know?]
[Well, how about – what is your city like? You all seem to be very rigid. Everyone wears uniforms, and that one person yells at you a lot.]
"True, we are uptight," Thyathyrec mused, changing languages for the benefit of the other scholars. "I don't know if IЪel would appreciate me telling you anything about us, though, since he still somehow sees you as a threat."
Yrakc didn't seem to parse exactly what he said but got a general impression from his body language. [What does it matter what you tell me, when I'm trapped here?]
[No, I get it, and I don't mind, myself.] He debated how much would be worth sharing before IЪel threw the book at him. Admittedly, he based his trust of Yrakc in a purely gut instinct, that they had all evidence pointing to her harmlessness. Had he overlooked anything that would cause them trouble in the end?
Absolutely not. Yrakc had no power over them. Even if IЪel found out and yelled at Thyathyrec, what would it do other than make IЪel have a meltdown – again?
"We are a military-based colony on a large island, separate from our homeland." This much he explained in his native language to first work out exactly what he wanted to say, and so anyone who wanted to object could do so. "Well, I say homeland, but most of us were born here and don't know anything about our supposed home country, even though we count as citizens there. The majority of our family members are soldiers and arrived generations ago, and by all accounts, we should have established at least separate statehood by now, but due to the politics involved, we don't get any representation in our home country's government, so our statehood is not up to us."
He paused there to attempt to translate any terms that Yrakc didn't understand, but she nodded and seemed to accept what he'd said so far. He admittedly had had reservations about showing her a military basics manual, but by that point he had been running out of material to cover in attempting to glean as much of her language as possible.
"Not that it has mattered as of recently. In the last decade or so—about eleven years—we have had a strange, aggressive weather formation circling our island, such that travel to or from the island is impossible. Our còlithyizin has sent a number of soldiers on missions over the years to try to find a way through the weather formation. Unfortunately, none of the three missions have succeeded. Slowly, we have been losing the fittest members of our colony, until we now have only the higher-ups who have avoided active service, a few elders like my Kyò who have aged out of service, some adults who avoided mission duty for various reasons like pregnancy or providing irreplaceable base services, the young adults like me who were not old enough to go on the missions, and a very small number of children, the youngest being three years old."
"You don't have babies?"
Thyathyrec hesitated here. He turned to the other scholars. "Have all of you noticed that, too? That no one has had children since Thilen?"
A few murmurs in the crowd. "I'm not ready to be a parent yet," chimed in Zòlthen.
"You, a parent?" laughed Thamidhel.
"NOT HELPING," Riariaď interjected, smacking Thamidhel lightly on the arm. "Although, as for me, I'm still hoping my parents will come back, and I'd rather have them around for the big event."
"That's what I wanted, too," Thyathyrec agreed, looking downcast. It still stung thinking of Piaròmine not wanting to wait any longer.
"Ouch, is that why you got dumped?" Zòlthen blurted.
Thyathyrec's blood ran cold, even as Mylikò ran over and smacked Zòlthen upside the head. "What is your PROBLEM?" she shrieked, rushing to Thyathyrec's side and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Ignore that insensitive jerk."
"So everybody knows," he muttered, feeling himself collapse.
"Hey—" Mylikò tried to steady him as he slowly dropped to his knees. "Are you okay?"
Thyathyrec couldn't speak. His shame blanketed him like a dense, suffocating fog.
"Get out of here," Thamidhel scolded Zòlthen, waving him away. "Look at what you did."
"Agh!" Zòlthen cried, wincing. "Seven Heavens, I'm sorry! Fine, I'm going..." After some tense moments, several of the other scholars left, too, just as uncomfortable with the scene.
"Thya-ku," Mylikò whispered. "There's nothing wrong with being single. Nobody is thinking less of you."
"It's not that," he protested, just as he wanted to not talk about it. "I don't care what you lot think of me."
"You just don't want us to hate Pia-sy?"
He nodded. "I thought it was private. I wanted to keep things on the down low. It's not her fault."
"You don't have to justify yourself to me, Thya-ku."
"WHERE IS EVERYONE," shouted an all too-familiar voice that startled the three humans and one alien still in the room.
Mylikò grimaced. "You might have to justify yourself to THAT one, though."
Thyathyrec struggled to his feet, surprisingly thankful to IЪel for purging the painful subject from his immediate consciousness. "Bathroom break," he snarked.
"We were discussing alien physiology, and it made everyone self-conscious!" Mylikò added. It wasn't EXACTLY a lie.
IЪel frowned. "If this is another one of your schemes to get alone with the alien again—"
"Then what?" Thyathyrec threw up his arms. "What will I do with her? TALK? I can't open the chamber and break her out, I already hold the highest title short of an officer, and I already told you, I WANT TO LEARN ABOUT HER. Everything's being recorded now, too, so you can't say I'm withholding information!"
"Seriously, IЪe-ku," Thamidel interrupted. "For a wannabe Lead Scientist, you're being quite obstinate about who gets to talk to the alien, especially when the one who understands her language best just so happens to be your rival."
IЪel rolled his eyes as though dismissive of their accusations, but Thyathyrec knew he didn't have a leg to stand on—something Thyathyrec knew all too well, in both senses.
"So, what have you learned," IЪel growled. "Summarise."
"Their kind is basically human," Mylikò squealed, "...but THEY CAN CONTROL MENSTRUATION."
"Eh?"
"Leave it to a MAN to not understand the implications of this!" Thamidel interjected. "Certainly us WOMEN would appreciate the meaning of being able to control when we BLEED OUT OUR CROTCHES."
IЪel scratched his chin, pondering this. What, had he hoped for top secret military secrets or something? "Proceed," he finally conceded, giving a "shooing" wave of his hand before crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to supervise.
"Finally," Mylikò cheered, just as ecstatic that they at last had a project that cleared IЪel's ridiculously high bar for approval.
Thamidel dug through the medical kit for some tests while Mylikò typed up some orders at the recording station. In the meantime, Thyathyrec noticed Yrakc waving at him. Curious, he walked over.
[What's going on?] she asked, indicating the other three scholars.
Thyathyrec glanced over. [Thamidel will want to take some blood tests, possibly collect some urine and stool samples. I imagine Mylikò is checking if we would be able to take images of your body. They might have to let you out of there for that.]
[What about the angry one?]
He made a disgusted face. [IЪel wants a major discovery. He is very hard to please and is only sort of convinced that the girls' project will prove to be as successful as they think it will be.]
[What about the others? Why did they leave?]
Looking away, Thyathyrec frowned. [It is painful to talk about. It involves a private matter, and they felt embarrassed that Zòlthen called me out like that.]
Yrakc twitched her ears. [Oh. I had wondered. Why is it you told Piaròmine that you didn't like her?]
Thyathyrac jumped, dropping his staff. [You understand what we were saying then?]
She gave him a sly grin, seeming to relish in some private joke he couldn't understand. [I remember enough, and I've figured out just enough of your language out to know what you were telling her.]
"What did she say?" IЪel asked.
He blanched. "I'm not telling you that!"
IЪel made a threatening gesture. "Why not?"
Thyathyrec pointed at the cameras. "Play back the recording. You heard her say Piaròmine, right?"
The room filled with a thick silence as IЪel pondered this. "How does she know Pia-sy? You're the only one who calls her by her full name."
Thyathyrec felt himself sweating in embarrassment. "So, the night we captured Yrakc, Piaròmine made a special arrangement with Ųòmel-cy to allow just the two of us to see her in private, after hours. Apparently, Yrakc remembered and knows enough of our language now to know what we had said then."
"So she can talk to us in our language?"
"Ųy'," Yrakc huffed.
"What was that?"
Thyathyrec frowned. "She refuses."
"Why?"
Yrakc crossed her arms. "Lny xdhòkjų iòcjų jynydhòųth ythi ųy'! Lny uylòjų jynydhòųth ųyyi'."
"She doesn't like or trust you."
IЪel flushed thoroughly solid red. Thyathyrec half-worried that he would get the fallout for Yrakc's non-compliance, even though it ultimately meant nothing but hot air. "Why doesn't she like me?" he growled as he stomped over to the barrier.
"Well, for one thing, you originally didn't want to let her have the screen for her chamberpot. Even animals want a degree of privacy."
"Za'," she agreed.
"I'm just saying, consider her point of view before you fly off the handle. Please." It took all of Thyathyrec's willpower to keep as level a head as possible. Yes, this was IЪel. No, they didn't need to fight.
Out of fairness, IЪel seemed to calm down. "Fine, then. What does SHE have to say about Pia-sy?"
Thyathyrec grimaced. He REALLY didn't want to get into this with IЪel, of all people! "Why don't you ask EVERYONE ELSE," he spat, still bitter about the incident. "Apparently EVERYONE knows."
"Oh?" IЪel sneered. "Gotta hold onto the alien lady because you can't hold onto your human one?"
Once again, Thyathyrec threw a punch at IЪel, but this time, IЪel immediately stepped just out of range, whether or not Thyathyrec would've let the hit connect this time. "I do NOT need this," he snarled, stumbling to pick up his staff and heading to leave.
"Han—" Yrack called, but Thyathyrec's blood boiled too much for him to calm down enough to resume his duties, not even for "his" alien lady.
He found Kyò waiting at the farthest end of the hallway and tried futilely to cool down before he reached her. Unfortunately, she knew IЪel had arrived. "Please do not let him upset you," she said, taking his hand and patting it gently.
"Too late," Thyathyrec spat. "I need to be alone for a while."
Kyò took him back to his dorm, and he took an early shower, letting the hot water bake away his tension. Thyathyrec would've preferred a hot soak, but they wouldn't let him near a tub as a drowning risk.
As he sat on the small shower bench, he stared at the scars all over his body, especially the ones he thought only he knew about. Most had jagged edges, made from a lashing motion, but three had clean edges: two matching ones on his wrists, and the one across one side of his neck that he could only see in the mirror. Those three once had tiny dots on either side for a time, matching the stitches that held them closed, but of his scars, only the stitches had managed to fade. Lots of ones he had never seen covered his back, as did a few he could possibly see if he contorted himself, but he didn't bother trying. At least one of these, had he not sustained that, he might have still had a chance with Piaròmine. Dhyròc had been particularly cruel in giving him THOSE scars.
He looked at his left shin, twisted slightly in the middle. It ached even now, when it had plenty of warmth and no pressure placed upon it. That damage should have healed, but the medics at the time hadn't had enough experience to set the bone properly, leaving him only barely able to walk under his own power. He cursed Ahfiamiďiec again for having sent away so many medics, when the odds had overwhelmingly shown they needed them at home more than in the field.
He thought about the raid. Nothing would've justified it, certainly. At the same time, his punishment far outweighed the crime. He'd essentially had his hands cut off for stealing stale bread. He'd had his future cut off because a boy driven stark raving mad from isolation didn't like having his precious territory invaded.
Even what he'd done to Dhyròc in return; they had ruled that as self-defence. Rather, Ahfiamiďiec had, in order to spare Thyathyrec from further punishment, but perhaps he in fact hadn't paid enough. Maybe his crime yet required more suffering to truly fulfill his punishment.
Truly, Thyathyrec lived in a Hell of his own creation.
Shaking his head, he turned off the shower. Nothing to change that now; he could only try to reduce Yrakc's sentence. SHE surely had no crime meriting the punishment handed down to her.
He timed his return to when the majority of the remaining colonists would have supper, so that he would more likely get to see Yrakc alone, without contest. When she saw him, Yrakc waved him over. Curious at this gesture, Thyathyrec made his way to the barrier. [What is it?]
[First, I am sorry I brought you trouble earlier.]
He gave a soft smile. [Trouble was bound to find me anyway.]
She nodded, looking apologetic. [I did wonder if I had any part in your lady problem.]
[Absolutely not. This had been a long time coming. You were only the excuse to let it finally happen.]
Yrakc frowned, looking aside. [I overheard two people speaking, and it was about you. I think they don't think I heard them, but my ears are very good.]
Thyathyrec frowned. More idle gossip, he supposed. [You know I have to record this. Whatever you say to me will be known to all the other scholars, eventually.]
[Do you want to know what they said? I don't have to tell you.]
He glanced around, whispering. [I do want to know, but if it's too serious, you can write it down and sneak the note to me.]
[It sounded very serious, and I already did.] She nodded her head toward the hatch.
Thyathyrec glanced over, seeing a folded paper under her dishes. He leaned over to pick it up and opened the note, eyes wide:
|
Thya-ku carries the blood disease. What? How? He and Dhyr-ku sustained numerous cuts in their fight. They probably got each others' blood on themselves. After the funeral, Thya-ku gave me a blood sample and asked to test for the presence of the blood disease, and it was positive. So? We all knew that Dhyr-ku was a carrier. That's why he had been quarantined— No, it was Thya-ku's blood. He trusted that I wouldn't question how he would have gotten a blood sample after the funeral, but I'm not naive, Pia-sy. You shouldn't be, either. |
"Shite."
