here be dragons – three good words

May 16, 2015May 16, 2015

life and time

asleep in the rise
of a star
set against light
passing
in lifetimes, twinned
against systems
nebulous
as far as they are wide
daunting
we circumvent
a sun

one look
the night sky
and the past gazes
back, calmly

ancient is the dark
that holds our sun
light so holy
so necessary
to us all
as we go
gently, gently
into that good
night

so bright
stardust, twinkling
alive.

March 12, 2015March 16, 2015

I wrote this some time ago, during one of those bad moments when the realisation that I just was really truly absolutely ohmygoodness definitely not there yet was very real. Ah, but the great thing about great writers is that, never mind how they make you feel like last week’s left overs, writing-wise, they also help you know that it is possible to do better, be better, try your best. Reading their writing is, next to the great story, also this lovely gift: somewhere, somehow, someone was able to touch that thing that is divine and turn it into perfect word-gold. Terry Pratchett was one of them. Dear Sir (he was knighted), you’ll be sorely, sorely missed. You made so many people laugh and think and feel and laugh again so many times, the world has really lost a true genius today. Rest in Peace. Or as the Librarian would say:
Ook!

…

Gosh, if I could only come up with something like Überwald, Bess Pelargic, The Agatean Empire, 71-hour Achmed or the Octarine Grass Country. Or simply the Anthropomorphic Personification of the Ultimate Certainty, the Grim Reaper a.k.a. Mr. Door. Terry Pratchett is a genius, a real and true genius, though I still think Rincewind is complete and utter twerp. The Night Watch with Commander Vimes and Carrot Ironfoundersson + rag-tag band of misfits and miscreants, the Witches of Lancre + kingdoms and villages, Ms Aching and the Nac Mac Feegles, the University faculty + Librarian, and all the city Guilds + C.M.O.T. Dibbler, Mr Lipwig, Ms Dearheart and whatever new Scheme Moist von is up to, and then, of course, the Patrician with ever resourceful and loyal Drumknott, they’re all breathtakingly, mind-bendingly, side-splittingly fabulous – but Rincewind just puts me off. He really really really annoys me. The only great thing about Rincewind is The Luggage (Sapient Pearwood! Imagine! The madness! The magnificence!). Barely managed The Colour of Magic, and only because I sat through that ghastly mash-up of a movie. Afterwards I had to read it. Rincewind is that character who just makes you want to reach into the book and slap people, meaning him. Though some of the scenes with him in it are utter hilarity.

…

Oh and one more thing: Really, the Luggage. The Luggage. I dare you to come up with something as hilariously insane as the Luggage. Go on. Try it. I shall sink my reading teeth into it, promise.
j.d.

December 15, 2014May 16, 2020

the royal line

England, 1465

‘Run,’ she said. ‘Run, Lucrese, run!’ And Lucrese picked up her skirts and ran, ran into the dark that rose high into the night, the forest with its welcoming trees, ran and ran and ran, hearing the screams behind her, the shadows flickering high before her, the torches so ominous with their blue flames. The Royal Line had found them, the Auditors had come. Lucrese ran behind a wide tree trunk, stopped and turned around. Yes, they had come. Their blue torches flaming high, dragging Mother, Father, William, Thea, even young Merla, dragging them to the eastern wall. She could hear the clank of chains, she could see how the hooks were lowered. One Auditor, covered entirely in black, unrolled a scroll and was reading aloud, proclaiming the treason her family had been found guilty of, ‘fraternizing with the blood enemy’, ‘engaging with Enchanters’ and ‘soliciting Sangín’. But Lucrese knew this was all lies. All Father did was invite one of the Selda to speak of what potions were possible to heal the Curse. And the Sangín, they had lived peacefully side by side for generations. Even her great-grandmother knew of no strife between them. Yet the Auditors were here, dressed in that ominous lightswallowing black, reading out the crimes Father and Mother apparently committed. Lucrese knew she should run further into the forest, hide deeper, never be seen, but she could not leave. She had to see, to know, to understand just what was being done to her family even though she knew what would happen now, she knew, she knew, she could hear Mother’s cries and Father’s furious shouting, for he knew he had done no wrong, no wrong at all.

And so Lucrese stood and watched as her mother, her father, her brother and sisters were chained to the eastern wall of their homestead, how the first Auditor declared they were to be executed in the name of the Law for high treason against their blood and kin, for Lucrese knew the Royal Line saw itself as the Lords and Kings of all Nightwalkers. And so she stood and waited in horror, tears filling her eyes, for in greatest despair even a Nightwalker could cry. And she stood and waited and watched as the sun began to rise, the shadows falling, falling, burning so slowly, such agony, wisps of smoke rising from her parent’s heads, Mother cried, Father cursed and the children stared up in horror at the encroaching sun, screaming for their dear lives. Lucrese stood and watched and saw the Auditors take out long dark oblongs that they raised high – a tug, a blinding light, and sunlight flashed hotly off the mirrors. Lucrese ducked in time. Slowly she raised herself, careful to stay in the dark, the only place where she could see beyond the shadows into the light. And there, right there, lined up against the eastern wall of their homestead, were five heaps of ashes, smoking in the sun.

* * *

Cornwall, 2010

10 days to Winter Solstice
203^rd year

Finally, some time to write and think. It’s done now, the Whelp is in the cellars, watered and fed, thought Mr Gellers down the road’s starting to give me weird looks. We might have to change our supplier.

Anyway, now, finally, I can actually sit down and just – I wish I could shout and scream and box Gav’s ears for his unbelievable stupidity. I told him it was an idiotic thing to do, but oh no, Mr Gavin C. Destrian himself had to show them the Sangín are real. I keep on telling him: the Aveugle are silly people. They only believe what they can touch and feel, what their little eyes can see. And even then they’ll start arguing. But no, Gav had to show them. He apparently was sick and tired of this talk as if our world doesn’t exist. I told him to be patient. A hundred years ago, that Potter woman would have been put behind bars for sorcery. Not to mention what would have happened during The Dark. Small steps, I said, you need to give them time. They’ll get to it, surely. Maybe in three generations to come, but it’s not like we can’t wait. Two hundred three and everyone still thinks I’m a teen. Mum’s stopped arguing, they think we’re sisters, and as for Gav. Well, I told him. I told him, don’t do it. The Sangín around here are not safe, they like to terrify people, Aveugle especially. But oh no. And now we have an Aveugle in the house, and she’s genuinely Bitten.

She’s very shocked. Spent the first week crying – when she wasn’t trying to rip our throats out . That Containing Spell Gran found in Romania back in 17-whatever really works. Probably even a full grown Sangín couldn’t break it, not that I’d ever try it out, unless I absolutely had to. I do feel sorry for her though, young Mel. Annabelle Lowry, but everyone call’s her Mel. And she didn’t even want to go, Gavin coaxed her to – probably why he feels like a stinking heap of dragon dung right now. I told him. The Sangín here are Not. Safe. But oh no. He knew better. They had to know. And now young Mel’s in our cellar so that she won’t rip out our throats by the merest irritation.

I think that’s the hardest part, acquiring unbreakable self control in so short a time. Never getting provoked. Holding yourself together to the very end. Until even the very last chain burst and suddenly you have a full grown werewolf on your hands. I told him. I really told him. Gav’s an Apprentice, he could never have kept the Containing Spell up so long. I told him. Even Mum told him, and Mum usually lets him get away with everything. Mum’s been awfully quiet actually. She hardly speaks to him, she just brews the potion and cuts the meat so that the poor thing won’t choke. She says nothing. A lot of nothing. A whole bookshelf and library full of nothing. I think it’s driving Gav mad. If Mum’d at least shout and scream, even curse him, I think he’d be relieved, but Mum doesn’t say anything.

It’s very hard for her though, young Mel. I can only imagine how it’s like, understanding that from now on, she’s one of the Sangín. It’s why I’ve been so busy. Mum’s been making me write letters to the Elders, and when I’m not writing, I’m making introductions all round. I’ve been up and down the Five Clans just to make sure nobody starts a war over this. Mum insisted I take Gav with me, I didn’t think it was wise, you never know how Nightwalkers might react to this, but they’ve been very civil, considering. Granted, Gav doesn’t say a word. He just stands there and lets them shout at him. At least they understand it’s done now, and the Elders are going to contact the Aveugle. Young Mel’s parents have already contacted their police. Gav and all his Aveugle friends lied very well, saying Mel got lost while they ran to the jeep. They’ve sent search parties into the woods, naturally they found nothing, Mum already went back and cleaned up the blood, you can’t have the parents terrified. Sensitive as Mel is now, she’ll feel her family’s fear and she’s already nervous enough. Nerves of steel is what a Sangín needs, at least that’s what Arrag says. He still comes to see me, brings me the paste once a week. The scars will remain, but they’ve healed. At least my clothes cover the most of it, though I can’t do low necklines any more. A pity, but I guess that is a small price for being alive at all.

7 Days to Winter Solstice
203^rd year

Gran’s in France again, someone’s broken into another vault. Tynne Edvan came to ask her to join the Déblay. Why do they always do this? How can anyone be so insane? The Royal Line has died out, they cannot be resurrected, and thank all the Stars, Gods and Spirits for that. Who would want them back? They’d never tolerate the Balance and then it would be like the Old Days and Arrag could never come and give me the paste. Tuilen and Janic would not be allowed to live together, in fact, they’d probably execute Tuilen for blood treason. Not to mention everyone else. Lucius. Meredith. Gwendolynn. Cedric and the John brothers. Leonid and Katelyn. They’d basically have to go into hiding. A Sangín and an Enchanter, united? The Royals would burn their house down with all of them inside by the mere mention. Every Sangín would get the silver cup, every Nightwalker in the Five Clans would be sunlit, and we Enchanters would be on the run again, forever escaping the Auditors who saw nothing in us than slaves. I don’t know why anyone would want the Royal Line back, no one would ever be able to live in peace again. Who are these madmen?

Anyway, young Mel is doing a little better now. Arrag already came to call, he was with Braig this time so we could not talk. Mum did the formalities, and she went down with Braig to see young Mel. It was awkward, standing in the parlour alone with Arrag. It’s been twenty years now. He still will not look me in the eye. If I touch him, he flinches. He barely accepted the drink I offered. I don’t know how many times I’ve told him that I know he was provoked. I know it. Everyone knows it. And back then I would have said the vows but he would not. He does not trust himself anymore. Even if I knew to brew the potion, maybe one night he might forget to drink it, and then what? Until that night he was convinced it would work, but after… may the Gods curse me, but if ever I see Alda and Ivan again, I will load my soulmaker with all the silver bullets I can get and send them back to the dark pits they belong to. Arrag was the best of them all and they just – broke him. Just like that. The Royal Line would have been so proud of them.

Anyway. Mum said Braig was satisfied. He will send Leonid to come after Winter Solstice to help. The Lupena have already been contacted, they will take Mel into the Fold once she is used to the bloodlust and knows how to control it. None of us want another Gerem – Gods, what a disaster. Ten Aveugle dead, and the 11^th so mauled they had to be merciful and let him pass as well. At least the Elders could convince the Aveugle officials that he was killed in self defence. The first time in decades that all Sangín-Clans joined together and went on a Hunt. They must have known the fault was entirely theirs. To let a Bitten Aveugle join the Fold without any safety valves… madness.

It’ll be another full moon tomorrow by the way, Gav’s already nervous. Last time young Mel mauled two cats and a dog. Had to bury them quick and explain the neighbours there’s been a very careless car-driver about. Gav is not happy. He said, ‘She was the nice one.’ Well, all I can say is that we Enchanters can’t have enough nice Sangín around.

November 21, 2014May 16, 2020

summer islands

It was a busy day in the VEN Centre when Ji’an was called to one of the glass offices on the upper deck. This meant that one of her superiors wanted to talk to her, probably to survey her latest project files. Superiors always did their surveys ‘in the glass’, where everyone could see what was happening, and so no irregularities could take place.

Once alerted, Ji’an quickly put together a ratio of successful and improvable trade routes to the High Falls, a sample of the latest docking logs for incoming Low Don goods, and a summary of the best price listings for the Moon Base 17 and 21 Suppliers, they were short on Os again, orange juice and olive oil. For the last five months, supplies to Bases 17 and 21 always bungled the Os which made no sense, since they were on the same tradeliners that supplied Bases 18, 19 and 20. One tradeliner after all supplied five bases. From what Ji’an surmised the Provider was clipping ratios to surpass Regulation prices, which meant that somewhere out there, someone was trading orange juice and olive oil for a criminally high price. Why was another matter, Providers could be tricky, and often broke FRs to trade with the Mainland Territories or the Outer Moon Bases that were still Deregulated. Ji’an did not worry however, she was certain to find the culprit soon.

Once she had all the information, Ji’an transferred the numbers and reports to her portable, made sure her workstation looked presentable, alerted Nuca in the neighbouring workstation that she would be ‘in the glass’ for the next half hour or so, and went to the upper deck. There was always that moment of surprise when she stepped onto a sphere and sailed up to the upper deck. Unlike other offices of the VBA, the ones in the VEN Centre were newly commissioned and had the latest state of the art interiors. There were no stairs or elevators anymore, except the emergency ones. They moved between decks by the latest spheres now, fluorescent blue, holding up to three persons of health in their force field while they transported them up the decks. Ji’an always felt an invisible hand scooped her up on the second deck and dropped her gently onto the seventh where the glass offices were, a moment of exhilaration that she genuinely enjoyed. It was almost like flying with an open glider in the skyways, though after that horrible crash three years ago, open gliding was now severely fined.

The notification said 398B7. Ji’an walked quickly, she did not want to be late. If it was Tebon, then there would be no problems, he liked her. If it was Zula or Ifeli, there would be a Look, but that was all. If it was Q’esta though… better hurry. Ji’an walked swiftly to 398B7, and already saw from afar that the glass office only had one person in it, and that person was male. It could not be Q’esta then. Ji’an relaxed, made sure her appearance was according to VBA standards, ID’d herself in and entered the office. To Ji’an’s great surprise neither Tebon nor Zula were waiting. The man who stood up to greet her was none other than Haen Ule, the merchant whose dinner she attended the week before. Ji’an was instantly alert. The VBA would not want Haen Ule to reconsider, though they had in fact talked on the morning after the dinner the merchant hosted.

Haen Ule had served a lavish breakfast for his guests, and Ji’an had finally found a few minutes to talk to him about the VBA’s wishes. Haen Ule’s trade routes connecting the South Falls with the Mallar Coast were known for their safety and steady supply. The Moon Bases the VBA provided needed a guaranteed tonage on wheat, honey fruit and rice, and Haen Ule was the merchant the VBA was confident in making this possible. Haen Ule had listened to the proposal and nodded at the appropriate places. When Ji’an finally finished her explanation, the merchant smiled, ‘I see you enjoyed yourself last night.’

It was just the kind of thing a merchant would say. Merchants, as a rule, were always bent on making trade look like a whim they succumbed to, an eccentricity they entertained out of pleasure, or a game they liked dabbling in when they had the time. When talking to them one would never imagine the weight of responsibility they carried, though Ji’an understood this feigned disinterest as a means to lighten the load. If just one tradeship was lost on its way to the Moons whole bases began to starve, not to mention what happened in the City when the trade routes were ambushed again. Such emergencies were always highly unpleasant, and Ji’an knew how it was to be out of bread or milk for weeks due to failed supplies, or that one summer where all water supply broke down and they had to store rainwater again. Thus it was generally agreed that allowing the merchants their little foibles was a small compensation for the strain of keeping the trade routes safe and steady.

Ji’an had smiled that morning, complimenting the merchant on his dinner. ‘Ah, it was nothing like the old days,’ Haen Ule had sighed. ‘Many things have happened on that gallery you were so fond of that even a House Mistress would blush to tell,’ he continued, smiling slyly, making Ji’an all the more curious. She had heard of the famous, infamous, merchant festivities that used to fill the grand houses down the Avenue, but those were all things of the past. After the Second Referendum, FRs were enforced much more thoroughly, which allowed for greater order and peace, though most of the older Citizens Ji’an knew still grumbled that people had much less fun as well. Why, no one ever said, but rumour had it that merchant festivities before the Second Referendum tended to get out of hand in ways unimaginable today.

‘Well, times go on,’ Haen Ule sighed again, ‘but I’m happy you enjoyed yourself. And I wager your khae as well.’

At this Ji’an had blushed. The resident was not her khae, and to suggest so was embarrassing. It showed the merchant had detected a closeness between them that was not appropriate between a client and a day-resident, since the merchant had to have seen the blue of day-residency. And it was true, she had enjoyed herself, so far so that she did not say anything when the resident yet again bent House Rules out of shape. The fact that the merchant noticed was not a good thing, and Ji’an had felt admonished. She finally said, ‘I think it would be difficult not to enjoy one of your dinners.’ To her surprise, the merchant laughed,

‘I guess that’s true, though I say it myself. Tell your Provider I’ll draft the contracts by the end of the week. If they have secured the loyalty of a young woman who can enjoy herself as you do, Ms Taiyge, then I think I’ve made a good bargain.’

Ji’an only smiled then, relieved, and said the VBA would be glad to hear from him, steady supply from the Mallar Coast would be more than profitable for the VBA.

‘Of course, of course. And I would be glad to have you and your khae at one of my dinners again. I will be hosting another in a month’s time. Promise me you will come.’

Hane Ule’s supply routes were important to the VBA, so Ji’an had promised to come, hoping the resident wasn’t already requested for that day. It would please the VBA to hear that she had gained the confidence of Haen Ule so far that he invited her to another of his dinners. Merchants were usually not so generous with their invitations.

Now, Haen Ule was in one of the VEN Centre’s glass offices, greeting her with a smile and asking her to please take a seat, the arica would come in a moment. Ji’an took a seat on one of the couches near the windows, they overlooked the main plazas of the Main City. Everything was bright and glistening, the green from House Gardens flashing in between, Commuters shooting through the tubes, trainees assembling on the VEN Centre’s Green. All, as it looked, was at peace.

Once the first pleasantries were spoken, Ji’an asked if there was something the merchant would like clarified after his meeting with the Provider, but Haen Ule shook his head and smiled again. He asked her how she was doing, and if the gliders took her home well. Confused, Ji’an affirmed and asked if something was the matter, was there anything he needed clarified about the contracts? The arica was brought before the merchant answered. Once the caterer left Haen Ule drank from his cup and said,

‘Ms Taiyge, my request to speak to you is purely selfish.’
‘Selfish?’
‘Yes. I was in the neighbourhood, so to speak, and thought I would take the opportunity to contact you.’
‘But – why?’
‘I wanted to ask you about your khae.’

Ji’an stared at the merchant, non-plussed. She knew merchants didn’t think much of basic courtesies, but to ask someone about their permanent resident, factual as well as not, was beyond decorum. The merchant must have noticed Ji’an’s shock, for he quickly tried to appease her.

‘Please don’t be alarmed, Ms Taiyge. It’s just that I wondered if you knew where he’s from.’

Ji’an stared at the man. Why had everyone decided to be disrespectful to her these days? She still had an acute memory of what she had to endure after she left Haen Ule’s very elegant house. Granted, Regulations would put the preliminary blame on her, since she let what began in the glider run its course. Resident Lanec was after all what Enna called ‘delicious’, and seemed intrigued by her youth and her looks. Ji’an was certain he rarely had clients as young as she, and so showed his pleasure more clearly, which was always exhilarating in a resident. That was not what had caused offence. Yes, the resident had avoided her gaze all the way back to the House afterwards. He knew she could report what happened, and probably thought she would, he had once again followed a course that was more animal than controlled. There was, however, the matter of excellent gratification, and the fact that it was not uncommon to bend, even break House Rules for pleasure. And the pleasure… the pleasure had been of such satisfaction as Ji’an did not want to miss. And anyway, if she reported, she’d have to admit she’d let it run its course. In a glider. Up in the skyways. It wouldn’t be easy explaining.

Ji’an had wanted to say something to relieve the resident’s visible discomfort, but she didn’t know what to say and decided it was best to say nothing at all. By the time they reached Cartin Place she had discarded all thoughts of reporting, she still felt too well served for that, though twice in two days was not in fact all that wise. She quickly found out why.

Once they exited the glider, they took the elevator in silence to Mistress Koun’s. The elevator came to a halt, the doors slid open, and they stepped out into the foyer, but the resident didn’t follow Ji’an into the lobby. He turned and disappeared through one of the side doors without even saying good-bye, not even with a nod. From one moment to the next he simply disappeared. Ji’an just stood on the stylized crane and watched the door slide close. She at first didn’t fully believe it. After those looks of apprehension futuristic space4 and guilt, she would never have expected this open show of disrespect. It was unheard of. Ji’an had had to fight for composure. It did not help to know that half of it was her very own fault. She should have reported the first time, but she didn’t, and never showed disapproval when he bent, broke or fairly discarded House Rules afterwards. Now he obviously thought he could do as he pleased.

Luckily there was no one in the foyer, and if anyone else had seen then it was only the Monitor, which meant the resident would have to answer for his actions anyway. The thought had been a little satisfying. Ji’an then went through the usual procedures with Sila at the front desk, and signed the resident back in, Sila asking the usual questions about the dinner. Ji’an answered with as much ease as she could muster, though she would have preferred to speak to Mistress Koun immediately. She couldn’t let such insubordination pass unnoticed, yet even as she filled all the necessary boxes, she didn’t ask Sila for a minute with the Mistress. Ji’an knew she had to report, but she also wanted to wait until she knew how to explain what happened in the glider. Even so, knowing what she could do, how dare he show such open disrespect? He hadn’t looked a fool. Nor did Haen Ule, but here he was, asking impertinent questions –

‘Ms Taiyge, I’m not being rude out of enjoyment,’ the merchant said seriously. ‘My questions are legitimate. I believe you have struck a bargain without knowing what it is you have bought.’
‘What bargain, sir?’ Ji’an asked, coolly.
‘You know that there are different clans of Ciorèn on teh Mainland Territories, do you not, Ms Taiyge?’

Ji’an inclined her head. Everyone knew that.

‘They are usually light-haired in some way or other, which is probably why they are so sought after. But there are some clans that are not.’
‘Why are you telling me this, Merchant Ule?’
‘Because I think your khae belongs to a caste that is otherwise unknown to the Federation.’
‘Caste? I thought you spoke of clans – ’
‘Yes, yes, I did, but naturally each clan has a caste of underlings, warriors, ruling families and so on.’

Ji’an waited, Haen Ule drank from his arica. He seemed hesitant.

‘The thing is, there is a particular caste that lives entirely on the Summer Islands –’
‘Merchant Ule – ’
‘No, Ms Taiyge, please let me finish. You will find it worth your while. The interesting thing with this particular caste,’ he began, ‘is that they are a secluded community, sworn to single worship since childhood.’

Puzzled by the merchant’s words and irritated by his forthrightness, Ji’an got to her feet.

‘Merchant Ule, I have work to do –’
‘They are priests. Of some kind. They are sworn to their strange gods and never leave the island.’

Ji’an stopped and frowned.

‘Priests? But such things are forbidden by the Federation.’
‘Yes, but as you know, the Summer Islands do not belong to the Federation -’
‘Yes, I know. These… priests, what do they do?’
‘No one knows. They never leave the island.’
‘Merchant Ule, I am still at a loss why you are telling me this.’
‘I met one of them once, a whole group in fact – ’
‘But the Summer Islands are beyond the Protectorate – ’
‘I know and we did not go there on purpose. There was a vicious storm and one of the tradeliners had to land for repairs. The nearest coast was one of their islands. Believe me we didn’t want to land, but it was either that or drowning. We thought they would kill us and make their blood offerings to their demon gods, but they simply watched and waited until we left. I was responsible for the crew, so I had to make sure nothing dangerous took place. One of them could speak properly so we had some kind of conversation.’
‘Yes, but what –’
‘And they all, to the last, looked like your khae.’

Ji’an sat down again, trying to find the right words.

‘You mean…?’
‘I’ve heard that the bondsmen have started to search further south,’ the Merchant said, eyeing Ji’an carefully. ‘Some of the higher Houses have made certain requests, but I didn’t believe it until I saw your khae. Does your House Mistress know what she’s doing?’

The merchant looked very grave now and Ji’an still didn’t know what to say.

‘They are dangerous, Ms Taiyge,’ Haen Ule continued. ‘Some, I guess, enjoy the fruits of civilization, but most of them are not to be trusted. And to take them to a House! A whole caste trained to celibacy from the day they – ’
‘Celi-what?’ Ji’an frowned.
‘Ah, yes, you are too young. You wouldn’t know. Celibacy. They swear never to touch a woman.’

Ji’an still didn’t understand.

‘Who would do that?’
‘It’s part of their strange custom. Every youth sent to that island swears this oath. Maybe that’s why they stay on the Summer Islands, I was told they are inhabited entirely by men.’
‘And how do they continue their generations?’
‘It’s a mystery. No one knows. We were lucky to get off the island unharmed.’
‘And you think my – you think he’s one of those… celibacies?’
‘Priests. Their priests are celibate,’ the merchant said, drinking from his arica.

Ji’an went through everything she had just heard, but still couldn’t understand why the merchant was telling her this.

‘I am still at a loss as to why you are telling me this, Merchant Ule.’
‘Just so you know if something happens,’ the Merchant said seriously.
‘Happens?’
‘If your khae acts against custom or courtesy, that is. They were not raised in the Federation. A civilized life is unknown to them, even if your House Mistress clearly did some very good educationing. Still, I thought you should know. The Summer Islands are a dangerous place, and I do not think their inhabitants lose their wild ways once accustomed to the Federation. Even animals can be cunning, Ms Taiyge, and these are wild men.’

Ji’an didn’t say anything. The merchant smiled, kindly she felt, and finished his arica. He took out an index from one of his pockets and handed it to her.

‘If you ever have a need to talk, you will find me here.’

Ji’an took the index, surprised and mystified, nodding a thank you to the merchant. It was rare that merchants of any kind handed out an index so easily.

‘I’m sorry for this,’ the merchant said, ‘but I like a woman who knows her business, and you Ms Taiyge, definitely do. If you ever need help, you will find me at that signature.’

Ji’an looked up, saw the merchant’s kind smile, and finally understood what this was. She knew the merchant had recently lost his consort to a deadly fever out in the Bays. She tried to hide her blush and docked the merchant’s index in her portable. She thanked him again and excused herself, she really had a lot of work to do. Merchant Ule was all apologies, he had disrupted her day long enough. After a few more pleasantries, Ji’an left the glass office, just as one of her superiors walked in, Ifeli, asking if all was settled. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ Ji’an nodded and left for her workstation.

Sitting down at her workstation, Ji’an let her holograph screen flash to life, showing the latest com&aqs[1], yet her thoughts were elsewhere. Summer Islands. Castes. Priests. Celibacies. And finally that cold fury she couldn’t forget, that look that, now that she thought about it, had told her that one wasn’t safe. It could happen with residents, and even the Physicians didn’t understand why. The Mentalists said it had to do with an inner fault that made them think they were still in the Mainland Territories, or worse, actual Citizens, which was a pity for their state of mind. You had to be born and raised in the Federation to be a Citizen, and the Mainland Territories still refused to join the Peace. One could buy a Citizenship, that was true, but one had to prove one was worthy, and being mad and dangerous was the last thing that would lead to approval. Still, what the merchant said made Ji’an get a cup of hot arica at one of the catering stands. coffee 3

She drank her arica absentmindedly at the milk-glass stand and asked the caterer to fill another cup. Castes. Priests. Celibacies. Why would anyone swear never to touch a woman? Were there women in the Mainland Territories who swore never to touch a man? The thought was so perplexing, Ji’an couldn’t think of it in earnest. It was both ridiculous and unnerving. Who would willingly become a celibacy, man or woman? Was that part of the price they paid to their demon gods? It was so strange… but after the second cup of arica and more puzzling thoughts, Ji’an decided it was better to finish her work and return to the SSQ where she could wonder in private. If she stood here much longer one of her colleagues would start teasing her that she was being moody, and there was no need to have them smile at her in the tea rooms like that, last time was bad enough.

* * *

[1] com&aqs short for communications and acquisition suggestions: news and advertisements

November 20, 2014May 16, 2020

watercolour

Ji’an was finally home, where her cat greeted her with loving purrs. Her Screen blinked with five messages. She didn’t check them, nor did she make herself the usual cup of arica. Instead, she stretched out on her recliner, a smaller version of the one she had lain on not long before. She watched the latest screening, just to be sure. …yes, he was good. fireplace minimalist Since her acceptance to the Loge she rarely experienced something like that with a resident. They were usually calm, giving her gratification with calm persistence, stroking her body as was appropriate and kissing her when it was right, following her words precisely. She had had a few young ones who could be unnecessarily rough or uncoordinated, or spilled too soon, but after a while she knew which residents suited her tastes best, and ever since she joined Mistress Koun’s list her times at the House were always very satisfying.

They did not, however, leave her with a quiet wish to repeat what had taken place. She would have to wait until the following day however. The dinner would be long, but with such a resident, Ji’an no longer felt it would be tedious. Smiling to herself, Ji’an shut the Receiver, got up and went to the kitchen to feed her cat and prepare her dinner. Contrary to her expectations, the following day would probably be enjoyable after all.

Haen Ule was a Merchant who wanted new contracts with the VBA. Newly promoted, Ji’an was now responsible for negotiations with this particular sector of trade, and it was up to her to go to the dinner Ule was hosting, now that her colleague was detained. The dinner was in one of the grand merchant houses full of glass and white carpets, foreign flowers and water music. There were at least fifty guests all with their residents, most of them permanent, but Ji’an was relieved to see that the blue of day-residents could also be seen in the crowd.

She entered the glass parlour next to her own day-resident. He was silent, she had barely managed to find out his name when in one of the private gliders Haen Ule had sent specifically for his guests. By the puzzled look he kept on giving her, the resident didn’t seem to understand why she wanted to talk to him. It was just as well. Better a silent resident than one who talked too much.

Ji’an couldn’t help pointing out who was who while they walked through the crowd of guests though, seeing she had chosen well in matters of dress. The gold was neither too flashy nor too plain, and so perfectly adequate for someone in her position at the VEN Centre. ‘That’s the Commissioner’s second consort,’ Ji’an pointed out, ‘and that’s the Trade Warden with his second permanent resident. They say there was some strife with the first.’

Her resident didn’t comment, but it didn’t matter, Ji’an continued explaining. He had said his name was Lanec. It was probably a House name, after all most residents were not from the Federation. Ji’an was pleased that it was a simple and easy name to remember, it was always a little embarrassing when one had to ask for a resident’s name again. He smelled very good and looked very good in the deep blue robes. Ji’an wondered who had commissioned them for him. From what she had surmised so far, they were of Biyoran silk and Valgrave cotton that each cost a small fortune. Then again, with the kind of clients Mistress Koun had, it was probably natural that the residents received expensive gifts, especially if they were as satisfying as this one.

Again, Ji’an was aware of her curiosity about the resident’s other clients. How old were they, and how wealthy? Had someone already made a formal request? Did he have any preferences among the clients? She didn’t ask of course, it was just nice to wonder. The resident was very silent, but he didn’t look displeased. Rather, as if he was simply taking his time to see everything. He didn’t join the other residents standing to one side though, but stayed just a little behind her. Ji’an wondered why, this was not as formal a dinner as expected. It was up to him though. If he didn’t want to join the others so be it, he probably had his own reasons.

The resident stayed with her while they waited for all the guests to arrive, only leaving to get a drink for her when she asked him to. He himself didn’t take any of the colourful vials balanced by the servants on light trays, which was taking it too far, a vial or two was quite all right, but Mistress Koun was probably very strict. Some Houses even made their residents undergo substance tests once they returned. Ji’an didn’t think Mistress Koun was that strict, but it was a possibility. It could also be that he thought this tedious and was simply doing his duty. With all the wealthy clients Mistress Koun had, the resident was probably used to more luxurious occasions and probably thought this was beneath him. If he was bored, he didn’t show it however, which was good.

The gongs sounded for the dinner and they had to part. She didn’t see the resident for two hours, two lively hours on dining couches and a long glass table covered with many excellent dishes. There were toasts and talks and small-talk with a portly woman next to Ji’an, whose consort had business with Haen Ule. The trader himself was travelling so it was up to her to represent him at the dinner.

The dinner was lavish, the gossip even more, and finally after they left the dining couches and joined the residents in a large private room, Ji’an found time to speak to Haen Ule who quickly said, ‘Oh no business tonight, young lady, you’re here to enjoy yourself.’ Knowing merchants rarely liked to be disturbed in their celebrations, Ji’an let it be and started looking for her resident. watefall violet horizon To her surprise, he was at the farthest part of the wide room, far away from the recliners, where the first were already undressing. He was looking at a watercolour, a rare piece Haen Ule had apparently acquired in the South Plains, if the plaque next to the painting told the truth. It was a landscape of some kind or other, water and hills and a light. It was pleasant, but Ji’an had never had an eye for these things. She was surprised to see the resident looking at it with interest. It wasn’t something one expected from a resident.

‘Do you like it?’ Ji’an asked.

The resident turned sharply. It was his expression that made Ji’an step back. He looked… cold with fury, if there was such a thing. One thing was certain: it was not done. A resident was to be always polite and approachable. His expression changed immediately, but Ji’an had seen it. That icy anger was real and it was more than disturbing. She looked hastily about herself. No one else was near, which meant no one else had seen it.

‘It was just a question,’ she said, indignantly.

She had lost her composure and it annoyed her. The resident just looked at her without answering. Ji’an could see nothing in his eyes now, neither friendliness nor anger, just calm. It was common in residents, but with this one now, after those seconds of startling anger, it was unnerving. Ji’an found she had to look away. When she looked again, he was looking over her head to the spacious room full of guests occupying the recliners. He moved to join them, but Ji’an stayed his hand.

‘You didn’t answer my question.’

There was no way she was going to ignore this, she was after all a member of Mistress Koun’s House. Another look passed between them, Ji’an waiting for him to disobey. He inclined his head. Ji’an breathed out, relieved. She had heard of residents running wild if their clients couldn’t control them, and she wouldn’t have anyone whispering about her in the tea rooms.

‘It’s wrong,’ he said with that accent Ji’an could as yet not place. His voice was cool, though deeper than she expected.
‘Why is it wrong?’
‘The waterfall is on the other side.’

Perplexed, Ji’an looked at the watercolour.

‘You know where this is?’

He just nodded. Something in his face closed and Ji’an knew he would speak no more. It nettled her that he could simply choose not to talk and that she had no means to keep him from it. ceiling futuristic It felt like insubordination. Maybe she should file a complaint about what happened on the recliner. She had let him have his way without a reprimand, now he probably thought it would always be like this. And he had dared to look at her like that. Ji’an turned and walked back to the main room. He followed her closely which was a relief. She had half feared he would stay at the watercolour, which would have forced her to an argument, or worse, a raised voice, and that would have been uncommonly embarrassing. No wonder breaking House Rules was so highly fined. If you let them get away with it, they obviously thought they could do whatever they liked. Well, it wouldn’t happen again.