Authors: S. L. Viehl
Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Life on Other Planets, #General, #Space Opera, #Interplanetary Voyages, #Human-Alien Encounters, #Amnesia, #Slave Insurrections, #Speculative Fiction
"Resa." He touched her shoulder. "Resa."
At first she thought he would make the gestures and facial expressions to help her understand the meaning of what he said, as he had before. He only prodded her again and repeated, "Resa."
She understood name words, although her name remained, like almost everything, lost to her. "Hurgot." She pointed to his sagging shoulder, and then her own. "Resa?"
He nodded and said more words. She didn't understand their meaning, but eventually she would. The language he and the people spoke sounded like something she had perhaps known once, in the time before she woke up on the ice.
Resa did not remember anything of that before-time. A black shroud enveloped all that had been before The only word she remembered—dahktar—seemed to be one that Hurgot did not know, or that frightened him. He gave her the strangest looks when she said it, so she kept that word to herself.
Resa did not think much of what had been, anyway. Everything was new to her. Hurgot, the shelter, the robe she wore, the food she ate. Even the water tasted strange. And there were so many things in this place of people, things to eat and drink and wear and hold and look at and listen to and smell.
Not all were pleasant, but even those things unpleasant were better endured than being alone out on the empty ice.
The people's shelters did not seem much like the caves of the cats. Many things had been fastened together to make them, from hard flat things the color of dirty snow to dried animal skins. They also contained so much heat that Resa felt stifled at times, but that, too, was more tolerable than the cold.
Resa did miss the cats, but she did not want to go back to live in their cave. She had felt small and helpless there, and while she did not know who she was or from where she had come, she knew that she did not belong with them. Her body told her that she was the same as the people. Surely she was meant to be here, with her own kind.
She only wished the people were not so strange to her.
Listening to Hurgot speak to her and mutter to himself taught Resa many more words. She learned the way his face looked when he was asking something of her. Very quickly she learned the meaning of "yes" and "no" as well as what Hurgot and the people called water, food, and leader. The leader word—
rasakt
—was the one she noticed that Hurgot spoke without his face changing.
The rasakt dwelled in the largest shelter. Hurgot had taken her there and made her disrobe and crouch down before him. She did not understand why, but it seemed to be important to Hurgot.
While Resa was there, the rasakt and his beautiful woman said words that sounded familiar, too. Yet Resa did not feel comfortable near them, especially the woman. That one's mouth had stretched and curved while her eyes burned, and she had not made her mouth so when she had come alone to speak to Hurgot.
Resa also did not wish to be left with the strange women in the shelter where Hurgot took her the third day after she found the people. When she tried to follow him out, he pushed her inside the shelter and said words that sounded angry. Hurgot had given her water and food, and she did not wish to make him angry, so she stayed.
The women within the shelter stared at her for a long time. Some of the older ones gestured toward her and said things that sounded strange. Others only made the
huh-huh-huh
sound. When Resa wondered if she would be made to stand there all day, one of the youngest ones came up and touched her hand.
"Resa, come." She tugged on her hand and gestured toward the glowing thing in the center of the shelter that made warmth.
Resa went with her, and sat as she did, close to the warmth. She waited until the younger woman was looking at her face, and then touched her own shoulder. "Resa." She pointed to the other woman's shoulder.
"Ygrelda-that-is-my-name." Resa ignored the low
huh-huh-huh
sounds made by the other women. "Ygrelda."
"Ygrelda is
my
name. Resa is
your
name," the younger woman explained, making more gestures and speaking in a slower fashion.
Resa mimicked her again but understood that she had to reverse and separate the words. "Resa is
my
name, Ygrelda is
your
name."
Ygrelda's mouth stretched and curved. "Yes, very good."
That day Resa learned that "yes" and "very good" indicated that she had done something to please one of the people. "No" and "you must not" meant she had made a mistake. There were many mistake words at first, but never for the same thing.
The women of the shelter did not sit and talk and make the
huh-huh-huh
sound for long. After sharing food from a pot, of which Resa was given a bowl, they rose from their places and went to the snarled things piled between flat, raised platforms.
"Salvage," Ygrelda called the snarled things. "We sort them."
That which Ygrelda wished Resa to do was not difficult.
Salvage-we-sort-them
meant work. The work was untangling one thing from the pile, examining it, wiping it dry and clean, and placing it in another, new pile with other things like it. Before Resa was permitted to do the work, Ygrelda showed her things she was not to do, like pressing buttons or removing pieces of the things. Those not-to-do things were "dangerous" and "forbidden to us," whatever those words meant.
Resa stood at Ygrelda's side and did the work while she listened to the women talk. She could remember and repeat everything said to her since she had come to the people, even if she didn't understand the meaning of the words, but she did not speak. Absorbing the talk seemed more important now than attempting to make it herself.
"Resa, come," Ygrelda said after a time, and led her by the hand to the source of warmth again. The women did not sit around it, but they stood as close as they could while they ate different kinds of food.
"You must eat now." Ygrelda accepted a bowl of steaming liquid from an older woman and placed it in Resa's hands.
The smell made Resa's mouth water, and the warmth soothed her chilled fingers, but she waited until Ygrelda had her own bowl and drank from it before she did the same. The liquid contained flesh and plant matter that had been rendered soft. Resa would consume anything edible, but thought the contents of the bowl tasted much better than the raw, bloody food that the cats had brought to her.
She looked at Ygrelda and raised the bowl a little. "Very good." She made Hurgot's asking face.
The younger woman nodded. "Very good soup."
"Yes, very good soup." She recalled the words one woman had said to another after receiving assistance with two badly snarled things, and wondered if they would be appropriate now. "I thank you."
Ygrelda turned to the large woman who had laughed at Resa. "You see, Mlap? She learns."
Resa thought of what Hurgot had said to her after the burning-eyed woman had made her lip do the same thing and used the
carry
word. Perhaps what Hurgot had said to her then would also please this woman who had shown her kindness.
"At least you do not weigh very much," Resa told Ygrelda, using the same vocal intonations that Hurgot had.
Every woman in the shelter stopped talking and stared at her. Mlap's chin sagged and her face grew red, but the other women made the
huh-huh-huh
sound, quite loudly, as did Ygrelda until her eyes became wet.
Feeling yes, very good, Resa drank from her bowl.
Teulon's dream always began with the League general's words.
There will be never be peace, and it is time that your people learned that.
The guards had come out of nowhere. Later, Teulon would kill them and many of the others who came to take their place. But hearing the general's first words had left him too stunned to react. He had been invited to the League ship as a neutral moderator, to bring peace between two old enemies.
Teulon had tried to warn them of the consequences.
If you kill me, my HouseClan will not rest until you are dead.
The mouth of the League general stretched out.
That is easily remedied
.
Darkness swallowed him, and then the world filled with voices blending anger and terror with words that still made no sense.
It will make it appear as if the stardrive malfunctioned… Fire on all League vessels within the vicinity of the ship and destroy them… I have given the order to defend the fleet
…
Even then, Teulon had not fought. He had fallen to his knees. He had begged for them.
Be merciful
. Spare them
.
Hold him up. I want him to watch. I want him to remember
— White light filled white eyes. Teulon woke to the taste of blood and the sound of Hasal's voice. He sat up and removed the leather
strap he had tied over his mouth while his eyes adjusted to the darkness. "What is it?" "Recon sighted by our sky monitors." The silhouette of his second appeared near the shelter flap. Although the heatarc had been banked for the night, sweat soaked Teulon's hair and slicked his skin. The
center piece of the leather strap bore many indentations from other nights; this time his teeth had bitten through it and torn at his lower lip. He closed his hand over the strap. "How many?" Hasal stood with his back toward Teulon. "Ten Tos' scouts and thirty tankers."
For a moment Teulon contemplated summoning his forces and taking down the skim-city invaders. Forty vessels meant nothing; Skjonn's skyforce consisted of thousands of ships. He knew why Gohliya had sent them. A skirmish now would serve to pinpoint the location of the central encampment, which Teulon had been careful to change every twelve hours. Once the Kangal's general knew where they were, he would immediately send more, better-equipped troops down to attack.
Attack us
. Teulon's fingers became claws.
As tempting as the prospect of battle was, the coordinated assault on the occupied trenches had been planned, and had to be executed before the next phase of the rebellion. Confronting the Kangal's army—and beginning the war—would have to wait.
"Maintain cover," he told his second. "Track them until they have returned to Skjonn."
"There is also report of an offworlder vessel that came unescorted from orbit and docked at Skjonn earlier today," Hasal said.
Had the Kangal sent for support troops? "Vessel type?"
"A small passenger transport launch. The pilot used an open-channel, multilingual relay to request permission to dock."
The League would not send a diplomat experienced enough to traverse the kvinka merely to pay a courtesy call on the Kangal. "Track the League transport, as well. If it attempts to leave the planet, shoot it down." Hasal took a step but hesitated at the flap. "What more?"
"It is cold." Hasal inhaled slow and deep. "Men do not sleep alone in the cold. In all things Iisleg are as one. We would see to our Raktar's comfort."
Comfort
on Akkabarr was a synonym for
women
.
Many of the Iisleg had brought their women with them, but their rigid, misogynistic customs prohibited the females from fighting or participating in any manner of aggression. Indeed, the tribes had more rules about what women could not do than what was permitted them. Teulon had tolerated the presence of the Iisleg females because they stayed out of the way and kept to the shelters, where they prepared meals and provided sexual relief for the men.
From the beginning, the troops had believed that Teulon would take two women from those who were still unclaimed and keep them in his shelter. That he had not yet done this had generated a great deal of talk and growing concern.
More warriors were sending for their women, and the ratio of females to males was close to doubling. Another annoying aspect of Iisleg culture was that every man was entitled to two women.
"I have no need," Teulon told Hasal.
His second gave him a curious look. "It is the way."
Like most customs of the Iisleg, polygamy dated back to when their ancestors had been brought as slaves to Akkabarr. Evidently there had been an imbalance among the captured humans, with twice as many women as men. The Toskald also learned that the female slaves were less able to withstand the rigors of working on the ice. Better shelters were provided, and the women assigned to domestic duties, while each male slave was ordered to take two mates.
Teulon could have ordered Hasal from the shelter, but he needed to put an end to this. "It is not my way."
Hasal gestured to the flap. "The men do not understand this. Neither do I. They are only women."
Teuton's second was not unique in his attitude. Iisleg indifference to females had been growing for centuries, ever since the Iisleg's ancestors forgot their former monogamous existence on Terra and began to evolve a new society. Over the centuries what had been a rapid breeding strategy became a foundation for preferential treatment that evolved into a brutal gender bias. Males not only considered themselves more valuable than females; they utterly subjugated their women. Eventually the Iisleg were permitted more freedom, but the females never enjoyed it. By that time their social status had been completely eradicated, and it never improved. Even now, the females were as much slaves to their men as the Iisleg's ancient ancestors had been to the Toskald.
"I am not Iisleg," Teulon said. "The women would be frightened by my differences."
Hasal made an impatient sound. "Their fear means nothing. If they do not please you, they will be punished."
Any woman who disobeyed a man was immediately and permanently outcast from the tribe. Most were beaten to death or driven out to die on the ice.
I have killed enough women.
"Do none of the women here please the Raktar?"
Hasal asked, misinterpreting Teulon's lengthy silence. "Should we send for other females?"
"No." Explaining his true reasons for preserving his solitude would be worthless; the Iisleg were not capable of understanding it. His claws distended, straining against his flesh, and then he thought of something. "You have no women in your shelter."