Draigkhiun: Chapter One, Section III

III

Duilledair, where my family lived, was less than a forty-minute walk from the city limits of Tchawhir. The Lonnergans were an old, well-established Andowhan family and stayed close to the heart of the Confederation.

The walk through the flat country where Andowhan’s affluent families lived was forty minutes for an average person. I could do it in less time on a normal day. But today wasn’t normal and my feet ate the kilometers with furious determination. The family plantations whirled by on the periphery of my vision and thoughts. Their well-kept yards and rolling fields were eclipsed by the shadow of a far off and mythical planet that spun in a nebula of the anticipated conversations I would have with my parents. The autumn colors of the woodlots separating each plantation went unnoticed as I roiled within my thoughts.

Imagining conversations and seeking just the correct words was a game that always played out in my mind. In the final truth it would never go as anticipated. Still, I couldn’t stop it.

My thoughts played with discussions where all of my friends would be jealous of my opportunity. My parents would be glad to see me embarking this grand adventure.

On the other hand, my best friends were better off than I was. Paul Kinsellas was established as a respected young priest. He had a wife and they were expecting their first child. And Phil Dannard, my other closest friend, had just assumed ownership of his family’s café.

It took no effort for my thoughts to slide back to just what extent my parents would think I was insane.

Then, I remembered Malakai’s comment about the attrition on Terra. Old Earth was not a planned, terraformed Project started from a desolate piece of rock. It contained thriving, if slightly unstable, ecosystems that had developed for millennia without humans around.

And, then, there were the Histaklii, the alien species humans currently shared the planet with. It was true that we occupied different parts of the planet but occasional contact was inevitable and often rough if not outright violent.

People died easily on that planet.

Doubts about my quick decision began to build and I realized that I might not need my parents to think I was insane. I wondered if I was.

Actually, I was quite insane and my life on Andowhan had driven me there. I thought of Luke. People died easily anywhere. My thoughts came quickly full circle and I knew, and I felt that the decision was right.

All the coffee I had drank that morning exacerbated my nerves and I was dizzy and shaking as I refocused my thoughts. My stomach was also sour and growling since I had not eaten all morning.

As I began to walk uphill, I finally realized that the foot and vehicle traffic was also increasing. The flitting shadows of shuttles skittered to and fro on the ground faster than the whine of their engines would reach my ears. The patchwork of plantation woodlots had given way to low, rolling hills and the tall, golden grasses that covered most of the planet.

I was entering the city proper so I stopped to collect myself. Clenching and unclenching my fists several times, I looked south, towards where the center of the city occupied most of Anchorage Hill, and took in the green marble and golden trim of the towers of the Confederation’s Capitol and primary space port. The westerly breeze wafted the scent of a late-season algae bloom from the waters of Lokh Maorga, across the city, beyond Parliament.

Three kilometers away, on my left, the plantations had ended and the waters of the great lake sparkled in the intermittent sunshine. I couldn’t discern Innish Dokhas out in the center of the lake but the Dail Shondra—the Andowhan Colonial Parliament—was very visible against the golden grasses lining Danaan Bay on the northwest corner of the lake about fifteen kilometers away. To me Falias, the community where the Dail Shondra was located, was the prettiest on the planet.

Established on the gentle slopes where the Settlers’ Wall hills rolled down to Lokh Maorga, Falias was mostly an artistic community of brightly-painted, eclectic houses that masked small, nondescript government buildings. In Falias, the emphasis lay in a cheerful ambience as opposed to functionality. Thinking of it, and the long boardwalk out to the Island of Hope, was even more calming.

Closing my eyes, I let the scents on the breeze fill me more. The bump of someone’s shoulder and a muttered apology brought me back. I almost fell off the walk and into the street. Luckily, most vehicles were kept out of the city so the traffic was light and not very dangerous. Another passerby caught my elbow and I was able to regain my balance.

“Go roh mil mohagat,” I thanked her. “Thank you very much.”

“'Tweren’t nuthin’,” she replied, a hint of Aldersheimese to her accent, as she strode on into Tchawhir. She never missed a step as she grabbed at me. Even though she was older, she was attractive. I couldn’t help but take a look at her figure in the tight skirt.

Pervert, I thought. I smiled, shook my head, and decided to get moving again. It helped that she was heading in the same direction. She was a wonderful distraction from my fear of telling my parents that I was going to Terra.

We zigzagged through people for six blocks before she took a street heading off towards the Hostelry District. I didn’t even stop to watch her go. Dannard’s Café was over on the southwestern boundary of the Commons. I could smell his coffee a full block away.

Ordinarily I would have been craving a cup of his house blend. Today, I needed food and more refreshing beverages. The smell of meats and bread began to intermingle with that of the coffees. The notes of a clock chiming midday echoed across the Commons. Despite my late start I was going to beat the lunch rush, if barely.

I didn’t see Phillip as I entered, so I took my jacket off and draped it on the back of a chair. The timing being so close, I was lucky to get a table by the side windows. I had been planning to order from the counter, and see if Phillip was available, but a large line was already forming. I sat down and entered an order for my usual beef sandwich and an orange spritzer from the touch pad on the table.

“Can you hang around for a while, Cal?” Phillip called to me as he came from his office towards the counter. He gestured towards the line of customers and shrugged. I smiled, nodded my head, and gave him a dismissive wave. He returned the nod and moved into the kitchen.

I turned and stared out the window. The grass of the Commons was beginning to turn brown for the winter. More and more people began to show up and engage in their various lunchtime activities across the Commons where they sloped down towards the shore of Lokh Maorga. There were even some hardy fools attempting to swim. I shivered as I watched them.

The Dairai Mor, the Great Oak and the center of the Tuahan Solas Shondra spirit, was barely discernable out on Innish Dokhas from the café. That view was one of the reasons I liked to go there. It also helped that Phillip and I had been good friends since secondary school. He had dropped out of college to run the café for his father, and that was a more than adequate reason to give my patronage whenever I had the credits.

I turned my attention towards the yoga class that had taken up residence across the path from the café. It was mostly very attractive young women, all a little younger than me. This class was my favorite lunchtime entertainment and I had watched it often since graduating from Guildhall. Genevieve, upon catching me doing so, had often lectured me that I was a non-evolved, lecherous pervert. She had thought that, by this age, men and woman should have evolved more intellectually than to have to objectify each other’s bodies. I never told her but I thought she was unrealistic and prudish for a supposed Shondrean. People needed to experience the dictates of their hormones. It was a natural order of life. For a quick moment I wondered if I had really missed out on so much with her.

The thought was interrupted by a young man setting my lunch down on the table. I thanked him and turned my attention towards my sandwich and deep-fried onions. My stomach was thankful for the food.

I looked back towards the counters. Only the tables by windows were occupied. That would change once winter and the rains came. The café was still noisy and full of people, though most milled around waiting for their orders. They would grab them, pay, and hastily head out the door and into the commons. Most Shondrean chose to have earth beneath their feet at any opportunity. Because of the renovations at the plant I had had a little too much manure under my own. The sterility of being indoors felt good for the time being.

Jana, Phillip’s young, pretty new waitress left the counter where two Garda Shoheen were seated on stools. As she passed Phillip in the kitchen door they smiled and, I swear, she brushed her hand along the inside of his thigh. The look he gave towards her retreating figure only confirmed it: she was more than his new waitress.

I felt a knot of invasive, wistful jealousy in my throat and put my sandwich down. I took a sip of my drink to help swallow the knot and turned my attention back towards the Commons. Unlike me, Phillip had never been one to go without love in his life for too long.

The yoga class had dispersed and a cadre of young people on duty with the Andowhan Garda Plannad was forming lines. They were all young enough to have been indoctrinated this past summer and, since they were here on a weekday, were opting out of this weekend’s muster. My division wouldn’t muster for another week.

I finished my sandwich while watching them drill. Today’s drills were in hand weapons training. All of them used light rattan practice swords so they all preferred the ninteikki, a lightweight Shindaiwan sword. I could appreciate their choices. The older sergeant was working them hard. She was going to make them pay for not attending musters this rotation. I was glad that I had never opted out for a rotation.

I finished my meal and caught Jana’s eye at the counter. I held up my glass and she nodded. I stood up and headed to the back of the café to where a public CMI was located. There were no public intranets available for civilians so I would have to use the Cognitive-Mechanical Interface. The interlink projected a holographic keyboard when I approached. I typed in Paul’s PAL for his personal account, instead of his family intranet, swiped my credit card and imprinted my thumb to accept the charges. I was automatically routed to his mailbox.

Since Paul was much more faithful at checking his account than I was, I left him a message to meet me at Dannard’s. I would probably be here for a huge portion of the afternoon. I went back through the dwindling crowd to my table to nurse my second drink and watch the afternoon drills. The sergeant was doing an exemplary job of demonstrating methods of an individual defending against the group attacks of her cocky students. Rattan swords were continually flying free of young hands and I saw a lot of limping and delicate cradling of arms. I hoped that whatever excuses these kids had for missing muster were truly worth it. I found my own hands wanting to wrap around the hilt of my ninteikki and chuckled as I watched the mock slaughter continue.

The café had grown quiet and the tables were beginning to fill up with students poring over data books and pouring mugs of coffee or tea from shared carafes. The drills had ended and I was on my third drink, orange-mango this time, when a hand clapped me solidly on my shoulder and a figure slid into a seat. I looked across the table at Phillip’s good-natured, ruddy face and short curly, blond hair. Four centimeters taller than my father, Phillip’s size dominated the little table and I found myself leaning back in my chair.

“Cal, man, it’s good to see you. I thought you’d dropped off the planet since I hadn’t heard or seen you in so many weeks.”

“I feel like I have. I’ve put so many hours in, lately, I think the hourly worth of my salary is approaching negative numbers. I’m sorry, Phil, this is the first chance I’ve had to stop by in a while.”

“That’s no excuse. I know you’re working hard but, so are we all. I mean, you saw it today.”

“Yes,” I replied, stretching the word out.

“You know, I at least have the decency to call or return calls”.

“What can I say? I am truly sorry, Phil.” I knew he wasn’t as mad as he sounded. We’d been friends for too long.

“Do you have time to stick around a little longer?  I think Jana’s ready to run this place for the closing shift.”

“Why Jana?” I baited him.

“Because I’m training her to be my assistant.”

“Oh, are you?  I suppose you’ve been working extra ours teaching her?” I tried to keep a grin off my face.

“Lots of hours. Why?” Phillip paused and looked sternly at me. “Dun do fokhann clahv! Just shut up, you nosy amadan.” Despite the epithet, he still smiled.

“Okay,” I responded, grinning. There was nothing more to say on it. That’s the way it was between us. We’d tell each other the important things when we were good and ready.

“Well, anyway,” Phillip continued, “Jana can run things and I think I could use some suds over at Beordarakh’s.”

“Sounds good. I was hoping I could talk to you and Paul over some drinks.”

“I’ll give the preacher a call.”

“I already beat you to it and left a message for him.”

“A message? Did you ask him to meet us here or at the pub?”

“I said I’d be here for a while.”

“Well,” Phillip responded, carefully extricating himself from behind the table and standing up, “I’m a mite thirsty so I’ll try to call him and tell him to meet us there.” Phillip turned around and walked towards his office. He took his apron off and threw it at something unseen in the kitchen before motioning Jana into his office.

I watched the two of them talking from my table and wondered how I was going to tell my friend that I actually was falling off the planet.

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