Sacred Trust (6 page)

I stood up. “Sure, sounds easy peasy. Maybe—”

His office com rang, so I went upstairs to our apartment and had a meal. For the remainder of the day, I composed messages to friends back home and tried to understand Arandi culture.

The next morning a map of the city we now called home stared at me from the middle of our kitchen table. Dad had left a note saying my universal translator had been updated to include a scanner that would allow me to understand Arandi written language.

Since my understanding of Arandi history proved minimal, in the afternoon I visited Historical Records, a location I'd found on our new map.

I'd guessed correctly—Historical Records turned out to be a history museum.

I noticed my relaxed mood and decided I might have to change my college focus to the study of alien cultures and their history—although a limited data pool existed.

At one exhibit, I stepped to the right to get a closer look at an artifact and bumped into an Arandi. Fairly tall and clothed in silky-looking tweeds, our physical encounter shocked both of us. A whiff of something similar to rosemary drifted my way.

His skeletal gray face made his purple-colored garments scream, and they had a gritty texture under my fingers. My research had discovered the importance of colors to the Arandi. Males wore purple or green, and females dressed in red or blue. Black, white, and brown belonged to all.

Do their eyes see colors as we do? Is purple just a name? Do I need to follow their color restrictions? I had all sorts of questions that needed answers.

I backed up. My shoulder blades touched the cold sculpture, and I said, “I'm sorry. I didn't notice you.”
I wonder if the Arandi have rituals after touching?

A moment of silence ensued.

“No concern. You human? Forgive, ignorant question.” The male Arandi regrouped. “Explain yourself?”

His forehead sparkled. I wondered what it meant. I suspected explain yourself meant tell me about yourself, so I turned the tables. “Tell me about yourself. What's your name?” I side-stepped to the right.

“Name Tata, study history. Am bieriant; you curious.” Tata also took a couple of steps away.

“What do you mean by bieriant? My universal translator is having a fit.”

“Fit?” Tata shook his head. “Understand now. Notice ringing—no word translate? Bieriant between ages. Not grown.”

“Oh, so you are a teenager—between-ager.” Another unformed near adult, our encounter should prove interesting.

“I understand. But why are you here today? Shouldn't you be in school or something? Do you have school?” I continued.

Tata turned in a circle. Reading his body language proved to be beyond my grasp.

“Yes, school. Museum required; historical research. Why here? No name you.”

Oops. I'd irritated him.

“Sorry. My name is Nara Scotia—just call me Nara. I'm here because I want to understand Arandi life and history. Your police upset me yesterday. Apparently, I came across a sacred shrine or something.” I explained my encounter, and hoped my universal translator performed correctly.

“Never accessed. Strange. Research needed.” Tata turned and left without another word.

My thoughts swirled while I watched him walk away. Pretty abrupt behavior.

I glanced at the time on my com and discovered I'd be late for tonight's formal reception if I didn't hurry.

At home, I ran through my ablutions in record time and went downstairs to the ballroom. I found my father acquiring a beverage.

“So how was your day?” he asked. He unsuccessfully hid his annoyance at my lateness.

“Good. I'm learning about Arandi society. It's quite fascinating. Did you know ...?”

Dad held up his hand. An Arandi approached. Standard female colors were woven throughout her elegant garment.

“Ambassador, may I introduce my daughter, Nara. Nara, this is Ambassador Ilandus Tata.” While we shook hands, the ambassador studied me.

“Honorable Nara, difficult times. Adjustment overwhelming. Help?”

At least someone understood my difficulties. “Thank you, Ambassador, for your understanding and offer of help. You're correct; everything is a trifle overwhelming, although I'm starting to adjust.” I needed some small talk. “Do you have offspring?”

She turned away from me and gestured. In a moment, another Arandi joined us.

“Son, Eonus Tata.” Ambassador Tata put her hand on his shoulder.

Surprised, Tata and I gazed at each other.

Finally I said, to fill the silence, “Actually, we met earlier today at the Historical Records museum.”

While my father searched for appropriate words, Ambassador Tata said, “Excellent place; learn Arandis. Eonus, class research?”

“Yes. Project—Ancient History.” Eonus rubbed the top of his head while his eyes darted back and forth between my father and me.

“Excuse me, ambassador,” said my father. Turning to me, he said, “Nara, you were not to go wandering off. Remember our conversation yesterday with the police?”

“The Historical Records museum was on the map you left on the table this morning,” I objected. I hope I scanned it correctly.

Dad explained to Ambassador Tata I'd stumbled upon a restricted area the previous day.

“No worry, Naru. Historical Records fine. Understand history; excellent choice.”

My father didn't respond, but I foresaw difficult conversations in my future.

“Naru, person meet,” said Ambassador Tata, and led my father away.

The rest of my evening turned out delightful. I managed to get some dinner and had a short conversation with Tata about meeting at the Historical Records Museum the next day. Then I started quizzing the Arandi about their society. Perhaps I went a little overboard but I received no complaints, not even from Dad.

The next morning, I wandered around the museum until Tata appeared.

I decided on bluntness. “Should I call you Tata or Eonus?”

“Tata, unless parent or friend.”

“Doesn't that get confusing in a large family?” I thought about a few of the groupings I knew back on Earth. Many siblings and cousins all being called by their last name would create chaos.

“Meaning large family?” Tata stared at me.

“Oh, you know; more than one brother or sister, cousins with the same last name, large connected relationships.” How is the translator coping with my babbling?

Tata pulled out his com and poked at it.

Not well, apparently. The glance I received confused me.

After a number of clicks, Tata asked, “Brother, sister?”

“Actually I don't, but lots of human families have more than one child.”

“Oh.” Tata patted his head.

“Why are you ‘oh-ing'?”

“Arandi family, one offspring.”

No wonder he'd looked confused. Could they sustain their population growth with only one child? How long do they live? Another couple research projects landed on my horizon.

I decided on a new subject. “Well, each world to their own. Now, did you find out why I got into trouble yesterday?”

“Small data; incident one hundred cycles past; spaceflight.”

Since a human year equaled one Arandi cycle—approximately—something apparently happened one hundred human years ago. “How long have you had spaceflight?” My research had found minimal discussion regarding their race to space.

“One thousand cycles.”

“That's a long time. So let's go see your space museum. Do you have one close by?” I loved museums.

Tata said, “Cannot.”

Inexplicably, his response angered me. “Why not? This should be easy peasy!” Inexplicably, I wanted to stamp my foot.

“Not approved.”

“You don't have access?”
Why would any world have a museum without access?
“Do you know anyone who does?”

Tata turned away for a time then said, “No access.”

“What?” I took a deep breath and waited for a moment before saying, “For Pete's sake, why is there no access?”

Tata's brow crinkled in confusion. “Who Pete?”

I waved my hand. “Forget it; it's just an Earth saying. Why can't we get in?”

“Not diplomatic.” Tata's face became shiny pink.

This time, I stomped my foot. “Again, do you know anyone who has access?”

In response, Tata stomped his foot. Although, by the way he looked down, the action surprised even him. “Yes,” he said.

I tried patience or, at least, my version of it. “Tata, enlighten me. Who do you know with access?”

“Mother.” A most reluctant response.

Of course, an ambassador of this world would have access. Okay, I'd asked a stupid question. “So she'll take us to the museum then?” I crossed my fingers.

“No.” Tata wouldn't look at me.

“Well, that's not helpful.” I pursed my lips; I needed to think of some persuasion. Neither of us spoke for a considerable time.

Finally, Tata said, “Know location pass card.” Tata rubbed his forehead this time.

I really needed to understand Arandi physical reactions. However, in the meantime, I asked in a soft voice, “Will you get the card so we can investigate the space museum?”

Tata hesitated, and then said, “Yes. Meet space museum afternoon.” Tata gave me the directions and left.

Back home, my afternoon activities included lunch and research. However, my sleuthing only netted an aerial view of the monument's spoke pattern. So when I reached the space museum the following afternoon to meet Tata, I had nothing illuminating in regards to the history of the ruins I'd discovered.

While I waited for Tata outside the museum's soaring glass walls, I tried to look nonchalant, obviously without much success. After all I was one of only a handful of humans on Arandis. I was glad I didn't have to wait too long outside a restricted museum. The last thing I needed was another trip to the police terminal.

When Tata appeared, he held up a card and said, “Obtain difficult.” His face revealed a tinge of blue. Do I need to worry about his health? The range of colors his face exhibited surprised me.

“Ruins picture. Unknown description,” said Tata, showing me his com.

“I did some research too, but to no avail. There must be some big secret behind those ruins I stumbled upon for them to be restricted. I wonder what it could be.”

“Perhaps discover today.” His facial expression changed to something inextricably Arandi.

My shoulders slumped. “Only if the ruins have something to do with spaceflight, and can be found in this museum.” For some reason, I felt discouraged before we had even started.

His pass card easily let us enter the nearly empty museum. We wandered from room to room for a couple of hours. A few glances came our way, but no one spoke to us.

Tata showed me the timeline carved into the museum's floor. The informative path led us chronologically from the beginnings of spaceflight to modern day, from exhibit to exhibit, from floor to floor. On the third floor we encountered a sealed room, but Tata's card didn't work in the door lock.

“So what's this? A secret room even more secret than this building?”

“Not know. No information door, drawing only.”

I took a closer look at the surface scratches. “This reminds me of those ruins I found. What do you think?”

Tata rubbed a hand over the door. “Drawing vague.”

“No. I'm convinced this is related to my ruins.” I stomped my right foot. “We need to get into this room.”

“How?” Tata rubbed his eyes with both hands.

“Maybe there's another door. Or maybe you can use your com to—”

“Identification?” A uniformed Arandi startled us.

Tata groped in an opening in his clothing and handed the official a card.

I said, “I'm sorry; I don't have any identification on me.” Something I needed to remedy.

“Know you,” he replied. “Why museum?”

Tata took the initiative. “Explain space program, Nara.”

“No access authority.” He tapped his com, and then escorted us outside. The officer pointed at a waiting vehicle. “Tata, home. Await guardians.”

Without speaking, Tata and I travelled to his home. In approximately an Earth hour, our parents arrived and the two of them stood silently before us in the Tatas' main room.

Finally, Ambassador Tata asked, “Anyone beverage?” No one answered. She sighed. “How access Museum Spaceflight?”

“I wanted to learn about Arandi space travel, so I talked Tata into taking me there.” I wondered, would I be successful in sidetracking her?

“How enter?” she repeated.

Neither Tata nor I responded to his mother.

Then my father got into the act. “Nara, tell us the truth. How did you get in?”

“The whole thing is stupid. Why would a museum be off limits to the general population? And to top it off, they had a restricted room within the museum. How bizarre is that?” I tried again for distraction.

“Your pass card,” interrupted Tata, looking at his mother. She didn't seem surprised. “Investigating Nara's ruins. Start Museum Spaceflight. Found locked room; ruins on door. Ejected museum.” Tata's face changed to a greener color, and the heat rose in my cheeks.