Ripped Apart: Quantum Twins – Adventures On Two Worlds (25 page)

Dryddnaa was ambitious, but in true Tazian fashion she did not consider that was for herself, but for the whole race and its future. She had always been a tall and well built girl. A little gene modification had ensured that she did not have her parents’ weight problem. Now, at two metres ten, she was rightly described as statuesque. Flaming red hair which, unusually for her age, she let grow waist long. Set in the palest of blue ovals, her grey eyes were her one regret. She could not bear the thought of being called ‘Grey’ or, worse, ‘Steel’, when she became a Venerable. She was already contemplating another genetic alteration.

From an early age she had wanted to help people, mentally, and that had lead her to becoming a Readjuster. As a youngster she was considered highly promising. So much so that in spite of carrying weak residual genes from Léshmîrâ Kûsheÿnÿ, known as the Reconciler, no personal development restrictions were imposed when she achieved adulthood.

Knowing her views, her great grandmother had given her two pieces of advice: ‘Never do anything to make anyone question the freedom you have been accorded as that can be taken away from you. Wait to express your own, divergent views, until you are unassailable.’

Dryddnaa’s divergence was that she considered the restrictions imposed on achieving adulthood had damaged Tazian society. She believed that there was need for more exploration and creativity rather than less, and that those carrying the Reconciler genes could act as a mediating influence provided they were carefully monitored – by experienced Readjusters.

Where she agreed with some of the restrictions, even those she considered were imposed too harshly, and far too few individuals were allowed to be free or partially free of them. Through tiny increments over millennia they had been steadily increased by the Custodians. It would take centuries of painfully negotiated, small steps, to reverse the policy. That could only start by obtaining the concurrence of the overwhelming majority the Senate. She was always very careful how and to whom she expressed: not her views, but what she described as ‘tentative thoughts.’

As a Chief Readjuster she was acknowledged to be one of the best in her vocation. Having been accepted as an Elder at the earliest age of one hundred and twenty, Ceegren had shortly thereafter invited her into the Inner Council. When that was queried by Gentian, a much older Venerable who was one of Ceegren’s key supporters, he had replied: ‘Keep your friends close, and your opponents even closer.’

With all the contretemps flowing from the twins’ departure, Dryddnaa sensed that Ceegren saw an opportunity to manipulate the situation. Although successful in the Spiral Assembly through his gentle and considerate approach, nevertheless he was a hardliner, taking a firm stance on the full implementation of what he considered to be Traditionalist ways.

In return for his patronage she had to ally herself to him. But carefully, if she was to turn the situation to her advantage. She was not unassailable. One false step and she might find herself caught in a trap of her own making, with little option other than to help put plans into effect that were inimical to her own way of thinking.

To succeed, she needed information. Information from within the circle of family and friends. The four adults in the family were mentally completely free. In addition, Mandara and Lellia were highly respected Elders on their way to becoming Venerables. Given their combined skills, Dryddnaa had no doubt that whatever was spread into the MentaNet was likely to be carefully edited, if not downright sanitised.

Taking the perfectly true stance of her great concern for the twins’ wellbeing and their eventual return home when cured of the Violence Virus, she visited in person several carefully chosen Readjusters. She explained that her reason for not using normal thoughtsending was to keep clear of the MentaNet so as to spare the family the embarrassment of her interest becoming widespread knowledge. Not only that Readjusters were considering eventual treatment for their children, but also the inevitable inference that it had to be the family’s fault and, no matter how elevated their status, ‘sympathetic visits’, as she phrased it, might be necessary from a team of Readjusters.

Naturally, she discreetly emphasised the team aspect and the need for discretion in providing any information that might be help her to understand the background, and how appreciative the Counsel of Readjusters and the Senate of Custodians would be for any help in resolving the unprecedented situation.

Although personal ambition did not feature largely in Tazian society, various gifts were available. Elevation at an earlier age than normal to the higher reaches of the Profession, to the status of Elder and even to the Coordinating bodies: “Governing bodies” being another concept that the Tazii did not accept. In a society without money, the substantial energy credits that followed were tempting.

She allowed herself a wry smile that the increase in energy credits only materialised if and when the individual made the contribution to the race that was required by their new position. She would have to be very careful that none of her selections backfired.

Tullia awoke with arms and legs so leaden she could hardly move. Slowly, she became aware of sounds, voices and some words she understood. She turned her head to the side and opened her eyes. Sunlight made a small patch of light on the reddish coloured sand of the floor. Shining through the open doorway of a grey grass hut the sun had to be high in the sky.

Yesterday! The boy and girl! Her visit! The red sand. This was the Red Planet! She was on Haven!! And without Kaigii!!!

Darkness closed in and a deep sleep wrapped her in its embrace.

When she next awoke it was with a jumbled memory of dreaming. There had been knocking on a door. But there was no door. Just a grey mist that swirled about. A mist that felt like syrup each time she tried to move through it to reach… what? A sensation. Colour. That’s what it was. Little beads of pink and green flowing into her. Love and healing energy. From…?

Hearing a soft sound, she opened her eyes and rolled onto her side. The patch of bright sunlight reached far into the hut. Tullia’s internal clock told her that her sleep had been a long one. She had slept right through a whole day until the morning of… what? Her third actual day here. Wherever ‘here’ was.

A shadow moved. She looked up. Tsetsana was peering though the doorway, the young girl’s aura showed she was excited and nervous.

‘Dumela, Mma Tooleear.’

‘Busana Tsetsana,’ Tullia replied. She replayed the words that Tsetsana had spoken, assuming ‘Dumela Mma’ meant ‘Good morning.’

Slowly Tullia got out of bed and Tsetsana showed her the bowl of water just inside the entrance and a towel she was holding. The young girl stood with downcast eyes as Tullia slipped out of her night covering and had a quick wash in the very cold water.

As Tullia took the proffered towel she heard Tsetsana gasp. Looking up, Tullia saw eyes as round as saucers above a wide open mouth. She looked down at her body, and grimaced. Her body, arms and legs were a patchwork of bright red marks looking like flames. They seemed to be in the same places as the lilac patches on her bodysuit.
The journey through that tunnel. These red splotches look like radiation burns.

‘Hiechware?’ Tsetsana asked.

Tullia looked blank. There was no translation.

‘Hoachana?’ Tsetsana tried naming another of the San tribes with distinctive reddish-brown colouring.

Again Tullia could not respond, except to shrug her shoulders and spread her hands.

Late morning and already the day was warm. Tullia realised that clothing was going to be a problem. Her bodysuit was much too warm. Normally when she arrived at Lungunu she would have taken it off. That day she had kept it on because it was new, the latest style and in her favourite colours.

With all the people in the village wearing lots of thick winter clothing, several also wrapped in blankets, she felt uncomfortable wearing what girls did underneath a bodysuit: hotpants and a little top. Her choice that last day had been an embroidered, turquoise, camisole top and hotpants. However much Quantum Twins needed to be alike, and often wore unisex clothing, she was a girl and they were in the era of establishing their own identities.

With gestures and Tullia learning new words, Tsetsana eventually left the hut to return with a collection of clothes of different sizes. Finally, Tullia was comfortably dressed in a pale blue tank top and a short, brown skirt: all she needed for what was to her warm weather. She sat down to eat in the shade outside the hut.

Tullia’s stomach was telling her that it did not want much food. She thought that not eating it all might be the wrong thing to do, so was happy to offer to share with Tsetsana.

Recovering from her surprise, and scared of offending a Goddess, Tsetsana shyly accepted. As they ate in silence, she felt herself relaxing. The Sun Goddess seemed quite human. But for her heavily slanted and unusually coloured eyes, with her size and colour she could almost be a Himba, or an unusually large San.

They finished eating and Tsetsana took away the plate and water jug. When she returned she spoke a few words and spread her hands apart indicating the village.

Tullia thought she was being asked if she would like to look around. ‘Kabona,’ she responded, getting up from the upended tree trunk on which she had been sitting.

Hoping she was guessing correctly what Tullia wanted, Tsetsana took them around the village, not knowing what to say to a goddess who must know everything. Slowly, she realised that this Goddess did not know everything, and also was having to learn the language of the Meera.
Perhaps that’s why she has come to us, to learn about us and our ways?
She felt a shiver of excitement run through her at the realisation that she, Tsetsana, was teaching a goddess.

Tullia was becoming increasingly puzzled why everyone seemed to be holding her at a distance, and glancing strangely at Tsetsana.

Walking outside the village, Tullia found a large hole and jumped into it, looking for what she thought was the entrance to a burrow. In response to her questioning gestures, her compiler provided ‘big food’ and ‘we eat.’

The sand around the edge was very soft. She held out a hand for support as she got out, and felt a lovely, soft energy flow from Tsetsana, along with a strong feeling of amazement. That was so Tazian that Tullia dwelt on the sensation and decided the amazement was because she, so tall, was seeking help from the diminutive Meera.

Although the impressions were very weak, they were such a delightful similarity to Tullia’s normal life that she continued holding Tsetsana’s hand for the rest of their walk. The puzzle as to why she sensed pride and honouring as well as happiness added to Tullia’s desire to learn their language quickly. She had so many questions to ask.

The man that Tullia thought of as Wiseman approached as the two girls returned to Tullia’s hut.

‘Mma Tullia, my name is Xameb.’ He pointed to himself.

Tullia nodded and tried to repeat his name: ‘Click-ameb,’ feeling embarrassed as Tsetsana giggled.

Xameb gestured for them to sit, and patiently coached Tullia in what he said were called ‘click sounds’ that the San used. As he coached her in the first sound of his name, she decided it was like what she would use to say ‘gee up’ to a horse or donkey, but from both sides of the mouth at once.

Finally, Tullia pronounced the double ‘click’ sound correctly, which made the ‘ah’ sound follow on perfectly. She flashed him a big smile of joy.

Over the following days as her complier built the translations she discovered that the San had never developed a written language of their own. Experts from other counties had come and written down what they heard, using their own spelling and conventions for the ‘click’ sounds.

Yesterday, it had seemed to Xameb that Tullia was a young woman, several years older than Xashee’s sixteen, probably a human being and not the daughter of the Goddess Nananana. Now he was confused.

Part of the time she seemed like a young girl, embarrassed, even shy. Yet now that she had got the pronunciation right and he sensed her relaxing, he was aware of a powerful energy flowing from her. Yesterday, he had dismissed the shimmering all around her as merely an effect on his eyes of her brightly patterned clothes. Now, wearing simple plain colours, he accepted he was seeing her aura, stronger than he had ever seen on anyone.

Even so, there was a strong sensation of youthfulness. He had never thought of a ‘Daughter of the Goddess’ as being just that. The concept of a young Goddess had never entered his mind.

As his thoughts returned, he realised that they were waiting for him to speak. Tullia had tilted her head to one side with a look on her face as though she was reading his thoughts.
Perhaps she can, if she is indeed the Daughter of the Goddess Nananana.
He smiled and broke eye contact. It had been a little unsettling.

With gestures and a few words, he invited Tullia to accompany him to meet with several other people.

He was thinking hard as they walked together. Whilst Siskas were the friendliest of all the extra-terrestrials, he had never heard of one that was this friendly and approachable. She had even responded to his healing touch as well as any of his villagers. In fact, when he thought about it, he realised that she had responded faster than any of his own people ever had.

And now she was already conversing a little in the language of their tribe. What age to put on her? Did that even matter? She could be a hundred years old, yet young for a Goddess. He had a lot to think about.

As with all the San tribes, the Meera did not have a council of elders, or any form of leadership apart from the village headman. Ghadi had thought carefully about how they should treat such a distinguished guest and who should be involved. He had decided on a small group to include his wife Kotuma, Xameb and a few others who had specific responsibilities.

As Tullia reached the small group of men and women seated on colourful blankets, they all rose. Xameb invited Tullia to sit on a thick cushion. As they all settled down cross-legged, she smiled to herself at yet another similarity. Although not as bright as hers, they all had pink soles to their feet.

Again with gestures and words, Xameb introduced Ghadi and his wife. Tullia found herself relaxing as her initial assumption made from the shorter man’s energy field that he was the leader was confirmed.

Ghadi began to speak. A stockily built man, a full head shorter than Tullia, as well as the leader he was also the tribe’s most skilled and powerful healer. She was even more aware than at her first meeting that his presence and stature came from his innate nature and energy. That was a comfortable similarity to life on Vertazia.

Tullia started to relax as she understood the general sense of what he was saying. As well as some of his words being translated, she was reading his energy field. As that happened it seemed that she heard more of his words in Tazian. What was most reassuring was that the words matched the colours swirling through his aura.
So like at home!
She managed to choke back the tears that were threatening.

When Ghadi finished talking, Tullia went inside herself and ran through her mind the Tazian words she had heard, and recalled his energy flows. She was fairly confident she had understood that they considered her to be a very important visitor and were honoured by her arrival.
That explains the awe, but why the fear?
I will keep this very simple and hope the compiler has learnt enough!

‘Thank you, your words, welcome.’
I think that came out okay.
‘I thank you, food and water.’ She turned to Xameb. ‘How say you name.’

She stopped. She could not think of what more to say that her compiler might be able to translate. She could see that they were taken aback by her use of their language. That was not the reaction she wanted!

‘Where am I?’ burst from her lips, as she struggled to hold back her tears of frustration. She saw the stunned expressions on their faces.

After what seemed like an age, Xameb replied. ‘We are Meera tribe of San.’ He gestured all around with his arm. ‘We live in Kalahari which means “Land Of Great Thirst”.’

She nodded, deciding that she would use their word for their planet: Kalahari. It was shorter and she liked the sound as the ‘r’ was trilled. In shock, her mind numb, she assumed the whole planet was a desert, was not Earth, and had to be Haven.

How? Where is Kaigii?

Struggling to control her thoughts and not break down, and with her strong aura extending well beyond her clothes, her excited energy field made her appear to be made entirely of flames. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself and the flames lessened.

‘You want know where Tullia from?’ She saw a variety of different emotions flooding through their energy fields as they nodded. As she unwound her legs she discovered she was shaking. On hands and knees she crawled the short distance to the area of clear sand in the centre of the circle.

Using her long fingers, she drew a circle, on top of which she drew a hut and asked for the name of the village. Xameb wrote that down alongside the hut. Drawing in the soft sand was easy, but it was proving too difficult draw the two worlds in the same place. She settled for drawing the two planets separately, with lines radiating from one as she tried to explain that she came from there.

As she continued to draw, she was surprised at how easily they understood the concepts and started a discussion amongst themselves. They easily accepted that she came from another planet that wanted to be friends with the people on Kalahari. They discussed ancestors, and she explained that her people were not their ancestors. Then she remembered that the Auriganii had settled for a while on Haven, the fourth planet from the sun, and began to wonder whether these people were descendants of those Auriganii who had not moved to Vertazia.

The lifestyle of the Meera village was firmly rooted in the past. It served as a basis for research into the traditional lives of the San, for the San themselves as a way of maintaining their historic traditions, and as a tourist venue, with visitors staying in the nearby Tourist Village.

As a result, there were no physical reference points for language outside of the Meera’s very simple lifestyle. Her compiler was struggling with the different syntax of three languages and, particularly as a result of the very different concepts inherent in Aurigan, mistranslations abounded. Amongst others, the Tazian for ‘planet’ became ‘sun’ in Meera. When Tullia later discovered that the word for ‘sun’ sounded the same, she was not surprised. Many Tazian words sounded the same as each other, the accompanying thoughts providing the appropriate meaning.

As they started to talk again, she held up her hand. They fell silent as she drew some more, explaining about Kaigii, her twin. ‘He is with tall trees. And,’ she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.

The Meera nodded and smiled.

She drew them a picture of a tree which was totally unlike anything any of the villagers had ever seen before. With her compiler storing in her brain an ever increasing number of words, and their obvious interest and understanding, she tried to explain how she had arrived on Kalahari. She was amazed from their reactions that what appeared to be a simple, even primitive village community that was in the middle of nowhere and with no signs of any technology seemed to understand what she was trying to explain. She rationalised that it had to be their Aurigan legacy.

Fortunately for Tullia she was unaware of the impression she was creating. With her aura still very excited and the red, flame-like patches all over her constantly moving arms and legs, she looked as though she was on fire. Added to that were her hands. Compared to Tamina’s dancer’s hands, Tullia never considered her fingers especially long or supple, yet as she drew and gesticulated, to the Meera they appeared to be very flames themselves. And when her eyes twirled: a Sun Goddess with eyes of purple fire.

Scrabbling around on hands and knees, drawing in the sand with a look of fierce concentration on her face and her long, bright pink tongue waggling out of the comer of her mouth, smiling as she learnt more of their language, the Meera saw a happy child. A veritable Daughter of the Sun Goddess.

That was confirmation of what they had understood her to be explaining with the two circles she had drawn at the beginning, showing that she came from inside. Her mother was the sun and, as her daughter, naturally she had been born from within her mother’s body. Now she was explaining how she had travelled on a ray of sunlight. And of course she came from another reality where she existed as pure fire.

Slowly and carefully Xameb explained that the hills of Behengo she had seen on her arrival were where the Gods had rested after they had created the whole planet. And that they still lived within those hills. It was as if Gallia was speaking from within Gumma’s body.
Admittedly,
she said thought to herself,
a Gumma that was a lot slimmer!
Nevertheless, it was a comforting, Tazian quirk.

Tullia was fascinated. Her people knew how the multiverse was created through science. Thinking about their history of the journey through space looking for a new home, she nodded to herself as she guessed the ten great Tazian Heroes and Heroines, Uddîšû as they called them, had to be similar to what the Meera were calling ancestors or Gods.

Seeing Tullia nodding her understanding as though she knew the Gods; it was all so clear to Xameb. The Sun Goddess and the Sun God were the two halves of the sun: twins. Their children were twins who one day would be the two halves of the sun. And so on throughout all time.

There was silence. With a start, Tullia realised that she had closed her eyes. She looked up, feeling embarrassed.

Ghadi leant forward. There were no titles in the language of the Meera. ‘Mma’ was merely a polite form of address for a married or mature woman. He decided that was insufficient for a Goddess who he feared was about to burst into flames at any moment.

‘Great Lady, Daughter of the Sun Goddess, we are honoured by your visit. We offer help to find the Great Lord Sun God Kaigii.’

Tullia’s compiler was having serious problems linking appropriate words and concepts between the two languages. She was struggling to accept what she was hearing. Being addressed as ‘KulaKesaa’ as if she were a Venerable and referred to as the planet’s Uddîšû. An image came into her mind of an WrapperEnactment. She had been the Aurigan Ambassador, wearing an outrageously gorgeous robe and headdress, the whole outfit flickering with changing colours. In front of her the planet’s ruler was bowing low, holding out his hands and offering her a bejewelled goblet from which both would drink as a sign of friendship.

The compiler seized on the image and ‘honoured by your visit’ became ‘Honoured Ambassador.’ And the references to Qwelby were naturally translated as ‘KosiKosuu’ for a Venerable, and again as the planet’s Uddîšû.

It was all too much. Tullia lowered her head as she sort to repress her smile at being addressed as if she were over one hundred and forty-four years old. The amusement relieved her tensions, and she dwelt for a moment in the comforting memory of the WrapperEnactment.

A feeling stole though her. She was receiving from the Meera a sensation as if she was in a KiddyLiveShow, where the young audience believed her to be the Heroine, and she had to act out that role. Looking up, she saw energies of relief and expectancy. Glancing around she saw that what looked like the whole village was clustered around the huts, and just far enough away not to overhear conversation at an ordinary level.

The Meera in the circle around her were relieved. Tullia’s regal inclination of her head had told them that their leader’s words were acceptable. And they saw that her energy had calmed and she no longer looked as though she was about to bust into flames and destroy the village.

Tullia realised that she was required to reply. Her head was bursting from all the language she was learning. Her mind went blank. All she could think of was the greeting she had given the previous day, and it seemed safest to return to them the words they had used.

Taking a deep breath and full of nerves, she sought strength by imaging that Ambassadorial role, stood up, brought her palms together in front of her heart, bowed her head and lifted her head back up. As she formed the Tazian words in her mind, she swept her arms down, unaware that her imaging and movement once again made it look as though she was on fire.

Feeling very much as if she was in a LiveShow, she remembered to speak clearly. In a steady voice which surprised her, the Meera heard in a beautiful, deep, rich contralto: ‘I, Tullia, Great Kehsa Sun Goddess, Honoured Ambassador to Kalahari, thank you for your welcome and offer of help.’ It was embarrassing to describe herself as if she were an Uddîšû. Had she known the compiler was translating that as ‘Sun Goddess’, she would have corrected that, very rapidly.