Section 2 of 4 - The Party
Part 5
After about five minutes of pressing the compress to the back of Um’Kai's head; Dr Kul'inar was satisfied that there was no bleeding, an earlier sonic-scan had shown no subdural haematoma.
"That was quite impressive," Kul'inar commented.
"Yes, I didn't expect that he could knock me out," Um’Kai agreed.
"It is a good thing that K’Stow have such robust skulls. It was the blunt force trauma of your brain sloshing about and coming to an abrupt stop at the front of the skull that caused the loss of consciousness. No signs of long lasting concussion effects. No blurred vision or loss of focus or acuity. No signs of bleeding in the eye, or evidence of retinal damage."
Um’Kai looked at the fingers of his left hand and tested their movement. He sighed. "Enough about me, Doct ... Professor Kul'inar. What of the children?"
Kul'inar discarded the compress in the bio-basura, and then picked up his notepad.
"They're in pretty good health. I have their records from the kybytz for comparison of their condition. Nothing unusual for their ages. Although, you could argue that Ne'moh has not started puberty yet, so he may have a lesser chance of K’Stow genotype expression ..."
"Doctor ... Please."
"Yes, sorry. I have taken all the usual samples for further analysis. What I can tell from looking at surveillance pictures of them - from around the time of the incident; is that there appears to have been a dermal response to short wave electromagnetic rays: They returned with a tan."
"But, all the children are outside most of the day working in the fields at this time of year."
"I considered that. From surveillance stills, I compared them leaving from and returning to the kybytz: and I also compared the other children; Ne'moh and Dur’ee were significantly more tanned. Your follow-up question, I anticipate. They were not the latest returning back to the kybytz. But, they were still the most tanned."
"I concur with your analysis. Good conjectures, by the way."
"Thank you," Dr Kul'inar was flattered by the younger man's praise; Um’Kai was held in high esteem by many, including his enemies.
Um’Kai looked through the doctor's notes. "Still no evidence of particle exposure."
"Not that we can say without the Koretic Institute's data analysis. This is considered low priority: Just another piece of unaccounted for proto-planetary debris falling to Q'ono'S. The children do not appear to have suffered damage to their vision beyond that which is easily accounted for by other causes: the UV sterilising lamps in this room, for instance."
Um’Kai was present yet far away. Dr Kul'inar noticed this.
"You're going to dive anyway?" Kul'inar asked.
"Yes. I will take their word for it. There is too much that they said that is anomalous and yet consistent. And, the most important thing is that they do not want to be going through this; the incident had such an effect on them that they want to know what really happened to them ... We do not need two children jumping off a cliff just because no one will listen to them."
Kul'inar put a hand to Um’Kai's shoulder. "And, that willingness to risk yourself for others is what makes you great," he honoured his friend.
Overwhelmed, Um’Kai bowed his head in deference to his mentor.
Part 6
The sound of the strings of a k'tr being plucked drifted from the roundhouse, along with the hubbub of voices young and old, and the pleasant carbonised aroma of roasting meat and vegetables over a peat fire. The sea air was cooling, the air driven by the sea, the air driving the sea, coming in from the sea. The brine and carbonic vapour (churned up by wave breaking motion) hit the Lial cliffs. And, the Q'ono'S moon was full with its feeble gravity barely tugging at the Great Ocean around the Great Qontinent; the mutual attraction of Q'ono'S to her sister favouring the greater body: Disastrously so; In another five hundred million years, Q'ono'S would pull her baby sibling to her in a mutually assured final duocidal embrace.
But, that did not matter, not now, not with Praxis now approaching.
As his voice had not yet decided what it wanted to sound like, Dur'ee opted to provide the back-beat for Kryten's melody on a tambor. Kryten was picking and choosing musical episodes from many great heroic ballads, while he worked on a new opus, occasionally rapping tuning forks on the k’tr.
The kybytz was named Zharkybytz; eighty student-workers taken from many of the Qontinent's provinces. Strange to think that the Qontinent was many smaller pieces, momentarily slammed together for a brief time - two hundred million years; and about another one hundred million years would pass before they visibly drifted apart again.
The Great Qontinent: Um’Kai didn't think it was that great. His people lived on the seas, rivers and lakes; on all areas near water; they traded and lived on the canal networks. Each K’Stow's first "boat" was a reed basket. These days, some of them had much bigger boats, but usually named after that first, nurturing vessel.
Blood-wine and rom-ale flowed, the younger children were allowed watered down drinks, though now - holding to the prevailing consensus that Praxis was to remove Q'ono'S from the Universe - parents and guardians were not so strict about adding greater proportions of water to the wine.
Um’Kai sat with his pool-brother, Zee'zoo, both of them drinking mung'tai and discussing the preparations for the dive at noon the next day.
Ne'moh drew pictures of the scene, finding the venture its own reward.
"Can I help?" Dur'ee asked Kryten.
Kryten looked up from the manuscript. "If you think you can," he challenged.
"Ne'moh taught me a few things about notation scripts: Movement, Music."
"Of course," Kryten said, opting not to withdraw the challenge.
Dur'ee looked at the manuscript, but barely understood it. There were lines for a time flow, but the actual note marcations were unknown to him. He could tell there was a structure, but was unsure what they actually meant.
"This is your own notation system," Dur'ee said out aloud.
"Yes."
"It looks good, but I don't understand it. Notes are missing."
"Transcription errors," Kryten commented. “Too much information spoils a song.”
"I've reduced the information down to four basic components:
The four lines to indicate time,
the four (let's call them) notes,
the four sizes for the notes - indicating quiet to loud,
and the markers - begin, pause, sustain, stop."
Dur'ee looked again. "I see it now. It is like movement and music notation combined."
"There is a basic truth in the use of all information systems: There is a beginning, a middle and an end. Like with stories and music. A song can be given a shape that rises, reaches a peak then collapses. It can have more than one peak. Generally, in a song we like there to be two or three peaks. Most often, the middle of the song we call the middle-eight."
"The bridge," Dur'ee offered.
"Yes, the bridge. Like Um’Kai, the name his family have for him is bridge, or thereabouts."
Kryten sipped his blood-wine and Dur'ee copied him.
"But, how do we know how to start a piece?" Kryten asked Dur'ee.
"The notation. Or, because it's the first bit of song?"
"Good, but there is an even better way."
Dur'ee did not know what that way was, or at least could not conceive the answer.
"A conductor," a sweet voice whispered in Dur'ee's ear, lighting up his eyes.
"Greetings, dottorsdottir Annette Barber Kul'inari."
Annette held out her hand to Dur'ee who took it, and touched it to his brow.
"Hello, Investigator Kryten. Who is your charming friend?"
"You may speak," Kryten advised him.
"My lady, I am Dur'ee von Ku'Layn. I am honoured to meet you."
"Thank you. Pray, continue."
Even though he had seen Annette approaching, Kryten's mind had gone blank.
"A conductor?" Dur'ee offered.
"Yes, a conductor," Kryten composed himself. "The information is there until it is acted upon; it takes an external force, a deliberate agent to make something happen. And, similarly, if the system is capable of running by itself, what - besides the conductor - can make it come to a stop?"
"It runs out of energy or material, or ..." Dur'ee could feel a moment of enhanced clarity just beyond his grasp, and then he looked at Annette, and something else entirely arose in him - almost like his survival demanded he be impressive intellectually. "Or, something goes wrong inside that system. Damage: it gets damaged or it becomes damaged."
"Sehr gut. There is a third source of damage; it could have been created damaged."
Annette decided to make another contribution. "Or, it could just be different and what causes it to go wrong is that it is out of its natural environment or normal working environment. Like a physh out of water."
"Excellent. The both of you."
"Do you know where I can find, the ambassador?" Annette asked Dur'ee.
Dur'ee knew not to answer that question, it was not his place.
"He's facing seaward with Zee'zoo. Dur'ee can show you where."
"Yes, sir," Dur'ee snapped to attention. "If you will follow me, ma'am."
They departed, and Kryten continued to work on his opus.
Part 7
Zee'zoo made an excuse and departed with Dur'ee, leaving Annette with Um’Kai.
The conversation was to be a private and personal matter; that is it would be private if they could resist shouting at each other for longer than three minutes.
Zee'zoo and Dur'ee sat with Ne'moh who was making a portrait of Dr Kul'inar who had agreed to a sitting as a life-model.
"May I ask, sir? I may be young, yet I am taken by your daughter," Dur'ee said.
"Yes. It's instant, isn't it?" Dr Kul'inar commented. "It is the curse of Q'ono'ssian men. It affects even the K’Stow. And, even among my fellow Kuracao we cannot resist our women. It's why the female Ku-Layn posterior lights up our eyes, even though we hate the Ku'Layn."
They looked over at Annette and Um’Kai, they fell silent.
Ne'moh looked up from the paper to see why they had gone quiet; he followed their line of sight to the scene that was unfolding. He gasped.
"She's ripping his hair out!" Ne'moh exclaimed.
"Be still, young Kat'Anna," Zee’zoo placed a hand on Ne'moh's shoulder. "It's just preparation for the dive. Though, I can't say that Annette is not enjoying doing that."
"That is so very true," Kul'inar agreed.
"She's using torrid kalx to help remove his hair and also to treat his scalp. One day, that may be happening to you, young Ne'moh ni Kat'Anna-ze K’Stow."
Ne'moh gulped, and then smiled thinking about how it would impress his K’Stow cousins if he could do a deep dive. Something to think about.
"Are they betrothed?" Dur'ee said, surprised to find himself sound unexpectedly gruff.
Dr Kul'inar noted Dur'ee's changing voice; perhaps another test was due?
"No. He has known her since she was twelve. Honour prevented him from approaching her with anything but the most chivalrous intentions; yet, as we know, that does not stop her from making demands of him. She made him swear never to see another till she was of age.
"And, he has abided by that oath. Still abides. Despite everything."
"Everything?" asked Dur'ee, gaining control again.
Kul'inar turned to Zee’zoo. Ne'moh shouted at Kul'inar to stop moving.
Zee’zoo felt like acknowledging Kul'inar's gaze with a combination of sarcasm and sympathy. And, then he thought better of it. "There is nothing preventing Annette from courting others. The oath was only binding on Um’Kai's conduct; not on hers."
Codes of honour prevented Kul'inar from acknowledging that statement, and definitely prevented Kul'inar from making that statement. Only Zee’zoo had the right to say such a thing, without it initiating a feud. Kul'inar agreed with the statement.
The situation brought him shame.
"Yet, they obviously feel deeply for each other," Ne'moh stated.
And, to that statement they could all agree.
Part 8
His head gleaming in the torch-light, Um’Kai sang for the kybytzim and gathered.
There is a legend of our world,
of bitter, cruel and all-loving Q'ono'S.
A legend of how she came to be,
Of the smash of Qontinents and creations of seas.
From the Mytoptic Formations at the Great Qontinent's eye,
to the swirling, surrounding Great Ocean and Sky.
They say that there were many Peoples before us,
that each added to the Foundation of First City,
deep roots of rock brick, each stamped with a message:
"Don't replace me; Re-Place me;
Put me Back; And yours atop."
They say that there was an accord with an Ancient Sea-Race,
to protect us, respect us, to remain 'cross Q'ono'S face.
They say this world is their world,
that that they welcomed us here,
and together made a pact to keep intact.
"Protect our beloved Q’ono’S; of us show no fear,
and we shall protect you, and hold you all dear."
The crowd applauded and hooted, and there were many cries of "Zhark Beat, bu-ha-ha."
Um’Kai took his place with his cousin, Kryten, and pool-brother, Zee’zoo.
"There's something I need to tell you, Kryten," Um’Kai said in a low voice.
"What is it?" Kryten asked.
Um’Kai looked to Zee’zoo, Zee’zoo's eyes showed agreement.
"It's about Zhark."
"Your great grand-father."
Um’Kai was quiet, the light from the fire playing across his face.
"Zhark was not my grand-father."
"You are the scion of another line?"
"No. Zhark was not my grand-father. He is my father."
"It is on record, Ku'Layn Record, that Zhark died a hundred years ago."
"Think: Why do you trust me so much, Kryten?"
"Because, you can ..." Kryten's eyes widened. "You can keep a secret!"
"All K’Stow can keep the secrets of others. That's why we are trusted. We don't keep our secrets from each other; it could be the difference between life and death on a dive. Whatever happened to him down there granted him unnatural long life."
Kryten stared at the fire, and then opened a new bottle of ale, even though he had yet to finish the other one.
"When he came back, Zhark had a message for us, all of Q’ono’s; it was not to be delivered until the time was right. He said I would know when. I think it's now, and I trust you enough to keep this a secret or to do with it what you think is necessary."
"What is the message?"
"Word for word: 'The deal is off.' "
