The weight of Thyathyrec's mission put an enormous amount of stress on his entire body. He refused to ride in the chair again, wanting to leave by his own power and build up the strength he needed to weather the coming ordeal. He knew it was pride speaking, but he just couldn't abide showing weakness at this stage in the game.
To her credit, Kyò remained silent on their transport ride back, having read the tone of Thyathyrec's body language as he stormed out of the còlithyizin's office. Not that he'd wanted to explain any of it to her; the less that anyone else otherwise uninvolved knew, the better.
Furthermore, he had to suspect the photos conspicuously left on Ahfiamiďiec's desk as obvious bait. The còlithyizin HAD to have realised Thyathyrec would see them, instantly memorise them, and surreptitiously decipher their meaning. Would he fall for it? Would his confusion make him seek out the source and do Ahfiamiďiec's work for him?
He closed his eyes as he disembarked the transport and returned to his normal duties, remembering the images: a cave somewhere within the colony's territory, with unknown lettering around and inside the opening. A temple, of sorts? He suspected it was on Mount Òriamfec, based on the terrain, but he didn't remember seeing that cave when he and Lyiyn had gone exploring. What he found the most suspicious of all, the lettering strongly resembled Yrakc's squiggle lettering in and on her craft, and in the journal.
Did he dare ask her about the squiggles? What would she think of it, especially about it being on this completely foreign planet? What did it mean that the same or similar letters appeared on two worlds that had never meant to interact, particularly TWO sets of letters? Was this Ahfiamiďiec's true intention, to have Thyathyrec grill Yrakc for a translation of the letters and discover their secrets?
If so, why the subterfuge? Why not come directly to him and ask? Wealth had decreasing meaning with the colony numbers so quickly declining, so if he had wanted to hoard any secret treasure, that seemed ridiculous. Also, an archaeological dig made more sense as a group, not as a rogue agent.
Perhaps their meeting had meant to involve the photos at some point, but Thyathyrec had thrown a fit and stormed out before they became topical. Should he go back and apologise? No, too late now, with what was at stake—survival, mental and emotional, outweighed mere curiosity.
"Watch it!"
As his mind wandered, Thyathyrec felt immediately incapacitated, covered in a cold, thick goo that dulled all of his senses. He toppled forward from the weight of the canister that fell and threatened to suffocate him if he didn't get it off in time. Thrashing to uncover himself, he choked on the harsh chemical smell as bystanders finally came to help him stand.
"What the hell hit me?" he screamed as he could breathe again, coughing up the toxic odors.
"Good night, Thya-ku," he heard Yďiny's voice remark. "You'd better wash off all that paint before it sets in." He tried to wipe the paint off his face, but she stopped him. "You'll get it in your eyes if you do that. Here." Yďiny took a large, dry cloth and cleaned off Thyathyrec's face before starting on the rest of his clothing.
"Goddamnit, I don't need this. I'm going to have—"
Thyathyrec paused. Depending on the colour, it might not be so bad; darker hair would be an interesting change of pace. He opened his eyes to take a look.
Navy blue.
"—blue hair?" he moaned. "Great..." At least his skin wouldn't stain easily, but who knew how long it would take to get it out of his hair?
Furious, he pushed anyone out of his way who tried to help him further and returned to his dorm to clean off, oblivious to the blue footprints and small circles he left behind even on his own carpet. For supposedly being such an important person that they kept him away from anything that he might hurt himself on, he still managed to regularly get pissed off by the other colonists' blunderings.
As he showered, Thyathyrec scrubbed for what felt like hours, trying to get every last bit of the tint off, all the time worrying about how he would look when he stepped out. He wondered if he ought to soak in some bleach as well, just to be sure. Would they let him have any?
"Thya-ku!" Kyò shouted, not so much knocking as slamming on the lavatory door. "How long will you be?"
He turned off the shower, grabbing a towel and hastily wrapping it around himself. Regardless of how many times she'd already seen him completely in the buff now, it made him self-conscious how she didn't give him a lick of privacy and tended to burst in on him at the worst times. "I'm done now, don't look," he called. He wouldn't have been surprised if she secretly wanted to look, as callous as she was about it now and again.
"Oh... dear," she muttered as he stepped out. "Look at your lovely hair! It'll take ages to get out."
Disappointed from her reaction, Thyathyrec hopped over to the mirror, eyes widening in astonishment to see a rainy blue mop on his head. Just how strong was that paint, anyway? Or was it that platinum blond took to dye more easily? Perhaps he had let it set for too long, in the half-hour or so it had taken to get back to his dorm.
"Ugh," he spat as mental images of bad music from the last decade came to mind. "I look like a punk rocker or something."
"Sit here," Kyò ordered. "I will get—"
"Forget it!" he shouted, changing his mind. Sitting and having Kyò fuss over him for hours was worse than being a little blue, literally. "I have more important things to do."
"Nonsense! I—"
"Aliac-cy, I just want to get dressed and go back to work! This isn't a big deal."
"Hmph!" Kyò made it clear that she didn't take well to not being wanted, especially after their heart-to-heart the other day. He didn't care anymore. It wasn't worth the good karma in letting her pamper him if it meant never getting a say in how he ran his life. If he spent all his time worrying about others more than himself, he would never have another day's rest, and surely his life had more meaning than as a big dress-up doll for the old woman.
After not-so-subtly pushing Kyò out the door, he put on the fresh uniform she had brought and straightened himself up, resigning himself to the notion that if the colonists had gotten used to him being scarred and limping, then they would get used to his blue hair as well. At least nobody questioned him as he hobbled his way back to Yrakc's room...
"Thu!"
Thyathyrec looked up, surprised to hear Yrakc's voice.
"Jyllųni jilųyųyn thujų!"
The look on her face baffled him, like she had never seen such a sight before. Of course she would notice it, but why such a pronounced reaction to his hair?
"Illndh?" he huffed, uncertain whether to be offended.
"What are you two talking about?" Zòlthen asked, briefly looking up from the extensive notes he had made from prior records. Then he realised with a start what they were talking about.
Thyathyrec rolled his eyes. "I had a run-in with the maintenance crew. One of the painters has impeccable timing and a terrific aim—only my dignity is injured."
As he glanced back at Yrakc, he then realised she was still staring, almost without blinking. It occurred to him that she hadn't once laughed. "Jyllų nųythijųdhzò thuď jilųyųyn lai ųyyi?" he asked.
She didn't answer right away, instead looking thoughtful. It wasn't the response he expected at all.
[What's the matter?]
[I...] Yrakc appeared to be at a complete loss for words. If eyes could twinkle, hers would have. Presently, she shook her head and struggled to return to reality. [It's embarrassing to say. I'm glad to see you today.]
[I'm glad to see you, too. Have you decided to cooperate today?]
The question seemed to snap her out of it. [Am I now just a sample to you, too?]
Thyathyrec shrugged. [I don't care whether you cooperate, but I still have to do my job. I need to do whatever I can do.]
[What you can do...] She looked away, like she struggled to hide something eating away inside of her.
"Yrakc?"
She turned abruptly, her back to the barrier. As she did, the screen collapsed, as though some unseen force had knocked it over. Thyathyrec jumped at the noise it made; the screen had appeared sturdy enough before, so why did it collapse now?
Yrakc's tail bristled in – excitement? Fear? When she looked back at him, her eyes seemed to genuinely sparkle.
[I can't believe it,] she whispered.
"What can't you believe?" he asked her natively, for Zòlthen's and Mylikò's benefit.
[You...] Yrakc started – squealing? She made a low sound, barely perceptible, that gave Thyathyrec the impression of barely concealed joy. [Maybe you're really...]
"Me?" he asked, bewildered.
[You can help me! I don't have to stay in this glass prison!]
Thyathyrec started at her words, worried she would give away his plan before he could even begin to prepare. "They are recording what we say, you know. Even if they don't understand everything immediately, they will eventually decipher your language." He had informed her before, but he said it natively this time to make it clear that he wasn't planning to do whatever Yrakc had in mind.
She seemed undeterred, throwing caution to the wind. [I realise now that I could have escaped at any time. I still can, but what's keeping me here is lack of somewhere to go. I didn't know before that this was an island far from any larger civilisation.]
He was surprised by her honesty. [Where would you have gone if you had landed on the mainland?]
[I don't know, but I certainly wouldn't have felt as though I had been backed into a corner when your people captured me.]
Thyathyrec felt curiously sympathetic to her sentiment, though he had to wonder what exactly she hinted at.
"What is she saying?" Mylikò asked impatiently.
No point in lying about it. "She says she realises now that she could have escaped at any time, and still can. What's stopping her is not knowing where else to go."
"What?" Mylikò looked astonished. "That's the strongest grade of polymer we have, and the walls are reinforced concrete and steel! How is an elderly thing like her going to escape?"
"She won't say specifically, just that she could." He wondered if it had to do with the fallen screen... Telekinesis? That alone wouldn't break the polymer barrier, though...
"Call the guards!"
Thyathyrec gave her a perplexed look. "Why?"
"If she's going to escape—"
"—she wouldn't have anywhere to go. I just told you that."
"But—"
"This is the best containment we have. If there's a weakness she can exploit, then we have no current way of knowing what it is until she demonstrates it, which she won't without reason. All this means is she's now staying here of her own volition, rather than as a prisoner."
The others didn't seem convinced.
"Look, if the walls won't hold her, the guards certainly can't stop her, can they? At best, they wouldn't be able to catch her. At worst, they would kill her in pursuit, and then we'd be out a live specimen. There's no point getting worked up over it. She's only saying that she no longer feels as trapped as she did before."
The two other scholars stared at him. "So what does this mean for our study?" Zòlthen asked.
"I'd like to say it means we may as well let her roam freely, but I know most of the colonists would object to that." To Yrakc: [I do want to help you, but my hands are tied as to how, besides that if I help you escape, it won't just be me receiving punishment.]
This seemed to cool Yrakc's head a bit. [I mean, I was just excited, I think. Of course I don't want to get you in trouble.]
He nodded. [Will you submit to the tests they want to perform?]
She nodded back. [Fine, if it helps you.]
[I'll make sure you aren't hurt at all.]
She looked – wistful? [You certainly did.]
Did? Thyathyrec wondered if she misspoke, but if she meant that he would, that also sounded strange.
"Alright, mates," Thyathyrec commanded, "Yrakc has agreed to the testing, so go ahead and do what you need to do."
"Progress!" Zòlthen cheered as he gathered some things together.
Mylikò walked to the barrier and held up a small sealed container to Yrakc. "Please pee in this," she said as she held the container below herself, gesturing downward from her crotch.
Yrakc suddenly blushed and glanced at the fallen screen. "Give me a moment," she said, returning to the screen and struggling to get it upright again as Mylikò placed the container in the hatch. After an uncomfortable amount of time, during which Thyathyrec had politely left the room, Yrakc returned, holding out a rather normal-looking sample.
Mylikò then brought out her prized cuffs as Zòlthen unlocked the barrier door. They restrained Yrakc before leading her to the recording station, to briefly allow her to sit while Zòlthen took several blood samples from her arm. These samples Mylikò placed on a tray to take to the labs for further study. Meanwhile, Zòlthen injected Yrakc with a tranquising agent, one that startled her upon entering her blood stream such that she visibly—violently—tensed up before she passed out.
As before when they had shot her at the crash site, Thyathyrec moved to help Yrakc, but Zòlthen waved him back. "It's fine, I have her."
"Is she having a reaction?"
"It's the same one they used for her capture. She should be fine."
He hoped so. He hated having so many things out of his hands! So much for unimpeded progress.
When Yrakc stabilised, Zòlthen lifted her up and laid her gently on a gurney, ready to take to the tomography room in sick bay. Thyathyrec struggled to keep up as they wheeled her along, not wanting to miss a moment, but he couldn't blame Zòlthen and the other scholars for having just as much excitement about their jobs as he did. So he had to expect his disappointment at watching Zòlthen and the gurney vanish into the distance as his left leg seared from the stress of exerting himself too much, too fast.
By the time Thyathyrec caught up with the others in the tomography room, the medics had already finished prepping and had gotten the imaging devices ready. He had to wonder how many tests they would run on her. Colonoscopy? Pap smear? He hoped they would at least let her be awake for THAT.
The x-rays went quickly, though the medics seemed immediately concerned, waving him over. "Thya-ku, take a look at this," Yackrahfiec directed, pointing to several places on her skeleton.
Thyathyrec had been all too familiar with fracture images from his own experiences, but Yrakc's had his full attention. She had a large number of tiny, nigh-undetectable hairline fractures that could barely be considered fractures at all. "What is this?" he asked, wondering if something there had escaped his understanding.
"It looks like she either has sustained light bone damage, or recently recovered from heavy damage. The density suggests the latter, although I wouldn't rule out osteoporosis."
Thyathyrec stared at the images, deep in thought. He HAD been surprised that she didn't break any bones from falling from the kehfyk tree, but perhaps she had? Small fractures?
"What do you recommend?"
"Well, normally, a calcium supplement, but of course, we don't know how she will react to it, or if her bones are even made of calcium. I can let you know once we get results back from her other tests."
"How many more?"
"I was thinking a biopsy of her major organs, just to get samples. While I would like to take advantage of her being sedated, we should spread these out over time, to avoid putting too much stress on her at once."
Thyathyrec nodded. "Yes, please keep her stressors to a minimum."
Yackrahfiec looked blankly at nothing for a moment. "I'd ask about the hair, but I heard the fuss earlier. Going to keep it?"
He groaned. "I don't want to talk about it."
Still, he wondered; it seemed to bring out some kind of – hope? – in Yrakc. Maybe it would suit them both to keep it.
>>>
When Yrakc came to, Thyathyrec sat waiting patiently by his side of the barrier. It almost felt sad to rouse her, slumbering so peacefully, as though her problems would never exist as long as she slept.
[Good morning,] he greeted, though it was actually near supper time by then.
Yrakc rubbed her eyes, struggling to make sense of anything. She hadn't taken remotely this long to rouse the first time. Did the dart have less effectiveness on her?
[How are you feeling?] he asked, wondering if the sedation had impacted her cognition in any way.
"Ghhhh," she moaned, sticking out her tongue.
"Blep," he laughed.
"Hnnn?"
Thyathyrec shook his head with a little smile. [It's a joke. Don't worry about it too much. They've finished their first run of tests. Our Lead Medic recommended spacing them out to avoid putting too much strain on your body.]
[I miss you, Thyl...]
"Hmm?"
Yrakc reached toward the barrier but quickly collapsed, apparently too groggy to work her body properly.
"Thyl...?" Thyathyrec thought back to all the half-dialogues Yrakc had had with him, where she had lost her capacity to speak for what reason. It felt incomplete, like searching for the other half of a stray thought. He wondered if she was struggling with his name; the sedative must still have a hold on her.
He waited patiently for her to come back to her senses, thinking of what still remained that they could learn from her. Language: functional fluency. Biology: in progress. Technology: ...
They would have to thoroughly catalogue the craft. He knew some of the others had kept at it since first contact, but how much more could they find? It would help if Yrakc could supervise, to inform them of what did what. He wondered if they should attempt to move the lot after all—the commute back and forth to the site couldn't be fun.
While he waited, he checked the records. The scholars had emptied the craft of everything not nailed down and stored them accordingly into bins based on item type, with a photo of each bin labelled with a suggested purpose of each. He flipped through each item and noted, after completing the file, that they didn't seem to have located a "black box" type of item. Curious. Surely that would be a valuable item to have?
"Thya!"
He looked up in surprise and pleasure to see his friend standing at the door, in full uniform and at attention.
"Er, L.S. Òlacdhić-can!" Lyiyn corrected, stiffly, as he saluted.
Thyathyrec raised an eyebrow but played along, struggling to get to his feet as he paused the recording—possible classified information and all. Even IЪel should understand that. "Rapdhanyndh Janaler Cylèythi-su," he greeted, saluting in return. "What brings you here?"
"Reporting an update on the defence of the craft landing site, sir! The troops have captured a spy from the adjoining province who may have stolen intelligence regarding the craft. Interrogation of the spy is currently in progress in the brig. The crash site is secure for now, but we recommend moving the craft to a more secure facility ASAP."
So Ahfiamiďiec hadn't lied. At least now he had external support for the relocation of the craft. "Why didn't you report to me sooner?"
"Orders, sir! We had previously shared our intelligence with Acting L.S. Paiaďyn-can and were informed that this was sufficient."
Of course. "Just so you're aware, rapdhanyndh janaler, I haven't assigned 'Paiaďyn-can' any such title. If anything, he has claimed the title on his own. Is there anything else you've been keeping from me?"
Lyiyn furrowed his brow, clearly dismayed by his own behaviour as he broke form. "You know I don't mean to hurt you, Thya. It just never seemed important enough before now to mention it to you after hours. I'm telling you this time because Còlithyizin Ahfiamiďiec-xu had specifically ordered it, due to the urgency."
"Because he's flexing his muscles to show me just how to exercise authority," Thyathyrec mumbled. If Lyiyn heard the remark and had any suspicions about Thyathyrec's statement, he didn't let on. "And is there any intelligence on the casualties from the other province's attacks?"
His friend blinked in surprise. "The affected solders were in the last report to IЪe-ku, as were the specs on their deployment and assignments. He hasn't told you?"
"Of course not. The fool wants to prove his worth to the colony by cancelling out MY contributions, even though I don't care about my value to the colony." Thyathyrec threw his head back in frustration. "Honestly, it feels like this turf battle could be so easily solved, but it involves us showing our bellies to the people who were *here first.* Ahfiamiďiec thinks that would be a futile effort, because they're so anti-military as to prefer us dead to submissive, but I don't think he's thinking far enough ahead."
"Can't say I have a real opinion either way. Sure, I'd like to stop fighting, but I don't want to give in when we're being ATTACKED. Also—soldier." Lyiyn made a double-thumbs-up toward himself.
"I'm not trying to solve the war at this point," Thyathyrec said with a scowl. "That's bigger than what one person—or even two—can do as free agents. My prerogative is to take action on what's possible within my sphere of influence."
"You're the boss – unless the janaler or còlithyizin says otherwise."
Thyathyrec pondered for a moment, weighing his options. "I may have a new task for you, soldier," he continued, putting up the façade again. "Run this by the janaler for her opinion. Morale is low in the colony, and we need to bring it up if we are to survive as a people."
"With all due respect, sir, defence takes precedence over morale. We can't have high morale with dead, injured, or stolen resources."
"We'll begin excavation of the craft, but in the meantime, we'll need a military deployment to strengthen the border if we are to maintain the integrity of the colony. I realise our numbers are low, but if we cycle groups out in shorter shifts, this can help cover the gaps in personnel somewhat. Possibly reconsider the locations of the outposts, since it would be better to tightly defend a smaller area than have weak defence for the entire territory. Most of the border regions have fallen into disuse from lack of staffing, anyway; we can afford to lose them if it means protecting our vital systems.
"We should also strongly encourage fraternisation after hours... Maybe not direct reports or anything, but – say – one soldier to one scholar, or tech, or educator, for instance. Talk to admin about giving bonuses for families. This should all bring up morale in the process, yes?"
"Yes, sir!"
Thyathyrec paused, exhaling deeply. "Isn't this weird for you, too?" he suddenly blurted, feeling at the end of his wits. "Why all the 'yes sir, no sir' kerfluffle? I didn't expect adulting to feel so – WEIRD."
Lyiyn stifled a smile. "Duty, sir. Also, may I compliment the new hair, sir!"
"Ugh. Please don't."
"Noted, sir!"
"Anything else to report?"
"No, sir!"
Thyathyrec gave a dry smirk. "Well, it may rain later. Keep your head dry, soldier."
Nodding, Lyiyn gave another stiff salute before marching off. He didn't let on at having received the "code." All Thyathyrec needed to do was drop off his list for Lyiyn to find later.
