Section 1 of 4 - The Farm
Prologue
Life had always been very tough on Q'ono's, and none had it so bad as did the children.
Millennia of grief had grown into an unspoken custom of keeping distance between parent and progeny, less either be thrown into the emotional chasm felt all too often following catastrophe.
Though post-natal deaths were now a thing almost unheard (due to progress in medical practice), ten thousand years of expected and unexpected disasters had created in the Q'ono'ssian heart a fear of showing affection to the young.
The distance was in fact cowardice.
Part 1
"This is where Xian'na and I will live," Ne’moh said, proudly displaying the intricate straw model of his fantasy dacha.
Ne’moh handed the model to Dur'ee, who admired the model's simplicity and design.
He placed the model on the carpet of bent stems of quorn.
"Oh, look, I'm Praxis," Dur'ee said, and stamped on the model.
For the longest time, Ne’moh did nothing; his dreams were crushed.
"You kerk," shouted Ne’moh, "I'm going to kick your Ku’Layn butt."
"You and whose Klingon mother?" Dur'ee challenged him.
Ne’moh swiped at Dur'ee's head with the business end of a quorn sheaf; the sheaf landed perfectly on the side of Dur'ee's head knocking him off balance and into an area of surviving quorn at the edge of the harvested field. Ne’moh set into him and there followed much kicking, punching and shouting from both of them.
Sensing an advantage, Ne’moh went to swing his fist at Dur'ee's chin ... and missed completely as Dur'ee moved ever so slightly to the side; Ne’moh disappeared into the stalks.
Dur'ee burst out laughing and went to check if Ne’moh was okay. But then, there was a flash in the sky.
Ne’moh screamed, “##expletive deleted##,” loudly.
Dur'ee pulled his friend up, funking as he did so, as more flashes seemed to be all about him.
"You see it, too, Dur'ee? What's going on?" Ne’moh asked with a tremulous voice.
"I don't know ... Let's get out of here."
They ran towards the far end of the field - near to the seaward cliff, but the flashes still followed them. Ne’moh closed his eyes, but the flashes did not stop.
Like thunder after lightning, there was a huge rolling crack above them; they felt the sound in their molars and bones, even as it reverberated in their chests.
They looked up.
Part 2
At his office in the compound of the Airship Aviation Authority for and in the Prefecture and Province of Kus’Hima; Kryten greeted his guest, Um’Kai of the Clan K’Stow.
The compound neighboured and was part of the Airship Hub that was named after one of the Klinzhai Clan's greatest patriarchs: Kah’Less.
Great, that is, if you believed the ranting stories of the Klinzhai.
Um’Kai was not of a mind to agree with the Klinzhai, even though there were stories of Kah’Less's lineage that connected him with the K’Stow. Yet, there were two things that Klingons and K’Stow both agreed on: the land belonged to the Klingons; the K’Stow belonged to the sea.
"Morning, cousin," Um’Kai returned the greeting.
"Let's talk business, Um’Kai."
"I have read the report, Kryten. There does not seem to be anything of import."
Clicking his tongue disapprovingly, Kryten set a goblet of mung'tai on the table for Um’Kai. He then placed a dossier on the table.
"The farmers in Kuracao are hardly a reliable source. These are the actual statements of the witnesses, not the report. Two boys, 10 and 12 years of age; the younger one is K’Stow, the older is Ku’Layn. Both have some Klingon heritage. But, the younger is also Kat'Anna."
"A scribbler?!"
Kryten opened the dossier at a marked page.
"You know what these look like?"
Um’Kai gazed at the patterns. "Yes," he said.
Kryten then showed him another page. "These are what the Ku’Layn saw."
"Not as clear as the Kat'Anna's drawings, but close enough."
"It was just chance that I saw these; Cousin Ja'Layn was visiting, he was looking around at my paperwork and asked me why I had drawings of particle track diagrams."
Um’Kai flicked through the papers. "It doesn't make sense, though. I understand that they said that they saw flashes, and they disagreed on certain things. But, there's no reason for them to see actual swirls, and other kerk. Those occur at the koretic level. And, there would definitely not be any marcation; such as arrows."
"Synaesense? A Kat'Anna boy and a Ku’Layn boy."
Um’Kai raised a brow dismissively.
"Of course, someone so deep in the breeding of the K’Stow ..." Kryten began.
Um’Kai breathed in, tightening his torso muscles. "Don't you dare!"
Kryten held up his hands. "I was merely going to say that as a K’Stow you are less likely to experience synaesthesia."
Um’Kai relaxed.
"And, that you are totally in-bred!" Kryten laughed at him.
"Perhaps, you'd like to go for a swim with me in Y'mani Cenote?"
Kryten pretended to think about it. "I have plans that day."
"I didn't say what day."
"Whatever day you have in mind, I have plans. But, that IS what I had in mind. If you could go for a swim off the coast of Kuracao, where the witnesses said they saw what they saw."
Um’Kai was quiet. "The Lial Abyss," he said.
Kryten waited for Um’Kai's next question.
"Why," Um’Kai began, "don't you contact the Coast Guard?"
"High Council will not approve an exploration and as for the Klingon Council ... Well ... What you said before about me going for a swim ... We're not welcome there. Especially not welcome after that attempt to drill for hydrocarbons there."
"No one is welcome there. Not even K’Stow," Um’Kai reminded him.
Kryten breathed in deep as he stood, and unleashed his voice as if from his gut.
"I have heard songs sung of Zhark of the K’Stow.
And, this is my song:
Of his life and loves, adventures on storm tossed seas,
and of his dives to the greatest depths
and of the Amity he found in the Lial Abyss.
His fame'ed name bestow'd on all who became high chief.
But, none surpass’d what he could achieve.
They say today the Tree of that Clan cannot grow
as it did in the time of Zhark K’Stow."
Um’Kai had not heard Kryten sing in almost fifteen years, it took him by surprise:
The bass tones pleasing to his K’Stow ears. He decided not to tell him how well he sang.
"You must be desperate," Um’Kai said.
Kryten met his eyes with a fierce challenge. "Do it for her."
Um’Kai felt himself tense as if jabbed in the side, he relaxed his body.
"Well," he grunted, "we should see those kids before I get in too deep."
Part 3
Kryten felt an unwelcome slide and squish in his step; he looked down, and then cursed.
Um’Kai laughed. "Looks like you trod in some Orox kerk, my cousin."
Kryten growled mainly to himself, then said, "Thank you for pointing that out."
The quorn field had been given a controlled burn and then the stubs had been ploughed under, giving the appearance of fresh rich brown furrows. The orox-pat had been hardly noticeable in its shade, and Kryten's attention had been intensely focussed elsewhere; his focus was now even more intensely on his krokosile shoes.
At least he remembered not to try and lift his foot up to have a better look while standing on this un-even ground. He turned his attention back to the new combined report.
"Agricultural Ministry: The field had been harvested before the event; the remaining discard was fed to the livestock or used in the generator furnace. The Ministry has tracked the milk & meat from the farm, and tested the soil: No sign of unusual isotopes. The Kling Koretic Authority is having the Koretic Institute electroscope the random sample of sheaves taken from this field later that day; their report is tardy."
He sipped some water from his backtrian, and then continued.
"No reports of launchings from any of the Provinces. No major conflicts under way. Nobody's even throwing rocks. Radioscopes report no flashes. Joint Aviation Authority - that's my lot - have no report of unusual activity at any altitude: Satellites detected no tracks - above or below. No reports of debris. No physhyng in this sector – it’s prohibited - so no 'unexpected materia' reports."
Um’Kai summed up his thoughts about what was missing from the report, "Possibility of faulty monitoring devices, and as for the radiation ... The anomaly could have been short lived or energetic, hence the sample submission to the Koretic Institute."
"This time, you don't have to be hard on the Institute: the Alpha Batch had already gone through the routine testing process; there was not much left of the Beta Batch to run a new set of tests on."
"Sykes," said Um’Kai.
"What!? How dare you ..!"
"No. It's Inspector Sykes, Kuracao Constabulary; he is here."
"Oh, I see. I thought you were calling me a sykes-kopf ...
"Oh, I see. I thought you were calling me a kerk-head," Kryten apologised.
"You are a kerk-head, Kryten."
"Oh, yes, you're right; Yo zevut il kapitano di kerk... Here he comes."
Inspector Sykes trudged across the field with the balance that would be expected of a farm labourer; his boots were appropriate for the conditions underfoot. His uniform was in contrast to Kryten's all-purpose Klingon battle-dress; on Sykes’ cloth boiler-suit, there was a side-arm, a badge with the Kuracao prefectural coat-of-arms and his rank insignia.
"Good day, Klingons." His choice to use the word 'Klingon' was an insult chosen to be aimed at Um’Kai, but Kryten felt the sting equally. "What brings you here?"
He already knew what brought them there; he was marking territory.
"We're investigating the sighting from a month ago."
"Ah, the two little Klingons. Will you be encouraging them to waste their time on such delusions? This is the middle of harvest season: They have work."
"Yes, we all need to do our part," Um’Kai said to himself.
Kryten pulled rank. "I trust you're here to aid us in our enquiries, Inspector?"
Sykes felt his mind overload; anything other than deference to this request would only lead to loss of honour. He had to save face, he thought fast.
"I was just about to ask how I may be of assistance, Investigative Captain."
Um’Kai raised a brow. Even the Ku’Layn in Kryten was impressed by Sykes' side-step.
"Yes, there is something," Kryten said. "I'll contact you after the interviews."
Sykes had done well but could not control a growl. "Very well," he said.
The cousins watched Sykes’s long trudge back to his transport; when he was well out of earshot, they turned to each other and exchanged an expression that said all that they had to say.
Um’Kai looked around at the fields, the stone walls, the wild brakht hedges and the orox penned-off in a neighbouring field. "Sure is pretty."
"It sure is," Kryten agreed. "Time to meet those little Klingons."
Part 4
Kryten had always been impressed by Um’Kai's way with children; Um’Kai's obvious respect for the young probably had influenced his choice of path. Specifically, Um’Kai was a diving instructor among the K’Stow, but generally he was an advisor to various Council chambers and a roving ambassador for the K’Stow. As an ambassador, Um’Kai had met Dr Kul’inar, the Chief Medical officer for the Barber Clan's Department of Diagnostic Education.
And, then something had ruined Um’Kai's life: He met Kul’inar's daughter.
Dr Kul’inar closed his case, having finished the last of his examinations of the boys.
The room he was using was the examining room for domestic pets at the kybytz-farm; targs and such. It was clean but uninviting, cooled against Q'ono'S' prevalent ever present ambient heat to reduce the growth of bacteria. On the exam-table, the boys shivered.
A knock at the door was followed by the entrance of Kryten and Um’Kai. Dr Kul'inar greeted them in the traditional way, and then they all sat with the boys.
The boys tried hard to hide their trembling which was becoming a major task as they caught sight of Um’Kai. Um’Kai stretched an arm out to Dur'ee who grasped Um’Kai's upper-arm, and Um’Kai grasped Dur'ee’s upper-arm. Um’Kai did not do the same for Ne’moh; Ne’moh felt the snub deeply, quietly acknowledging his own lowly position by dint of age.
"It is an honour to meet you, sir," Ne’moh said.
"I'm sure it is an honour for you," Um’Kai said harshly. "Now, what is all this nonsense I have heard of spaceships? I am very busy and do not appreciate being dragged away from my important work to be afflicted by the delusions of an unformed mind."
Ne’moh felt stunned and began to stutter. "I ... I ..."
Dur'ee (figuratively) leapt to Ne’moh's defence. "We were in the field by the Lial Abyss, when the ... thing appeared."
"I see. The Kat'Anna is unsure of his story," Um’Kai gave vent to derision. "Tell me more, young Ku’Layn."
"At first we kept seeing flashing things. We thought it was in the sky. We talked about it after. But, at the time, when we closed our eyes, the flashes were still there. It was like it was INSIDE our eyes," Dur'ee found it hard to control his voice, but it was not just puberty that was causing his voice to crack.
"Talked afterwards, did you? Kat'Anna's like their stories, don't they?"
Dur'ee was incensed. "It is not a story. We saw it."
Um’Kai was not looking at Dur'ee, but he did have a look of disgust on his face. "Did I give you permission to speak, Ku’Layn?"
Dur'ee felt the knock from equal to subordinate deeply. He lost his words.
“Ah, but I must not speak so harshly of your pet physh, Ku’Layn. I forget: Only you may insult your ... friend. I can imagine the tight little bond you two have. Small and easy to punch.”
Dur'ee’s face flushed crimson with shame and embarrassment.
Um’Kai turned to Kryten and Dr Kul’inar. "It is as I thought. They are wasting our time. Just two little lost boys who miss their mothers; Crying for attention. I have seen this many times. Their innate dishonour comes to the fore, as does the weakness of their clans."
Outraged, Ne’moh overcame his stutter.
"You can't say that. How dare you. How dare you. You have insulted me, my friend, and our clans. I will have my day of satisfaction."
Um’Kai put a hand to his mouth, stifling his mocking laughter. He stood.
"Come, let's away from here."
Ne’moh's stutter now became a thing of the past, as he began to curse ...
Impressed, but not showing it, Um’Kai put an expression on his face that Ne’moh could see clearly. The slight hiss of the positive pressure air pumps - that prevented air from outside the room flowing inside the room, seemed to become deafening in the pause.
Um’Kai then said, "What a badly educated little boy!"
Which was when Dur'ee snapped and walloped Um’Kai over the ridges with a sample pan.
