Envoys - Chapter 3
The trip to Dau was made in a small ship that Cass instantly decided to equate with a car. Aside from a small back room, more of a closet, that held a small bed and sanitation tube, it was much like a car. Two seats, a steering wheel that looked like a cross between a regular wheel and an airplane steering system. A dashboard-like structure ran in front of both seats, but otherwise, it was all soft, upholstered walls. The view from the window in the front was nothing but blue.
She puzzled over the bright blue field while Grayson arranged both of their seat strapping to his liking. It was only after he’d pressed a few buttons and leaned back that she understood what she was looking at. They were faced down, toward the planet itself, so close that all she could see was water. She couldn’t tell if they were already on the move toward the planet, though she kept scanning the view for signs of motion.
When the sign did come, a rounded edge of something blessedly un-blue, it was peeking out at a drunken angle from the top right of the window. She immediately wished it would go away. Her stomach lurched as her mind attempted to reorient itself with the rapidly moving horizon. A sour, tinny flavour flooded into her mouth along with a rush of saliva.
Please don’t puke, please don’t puke, please don’t puke. She kept repeating it over and over again in her head, willing her insides would listen. She resolutely kept her gaze in her lap, refusing to see any more of the rapidly tilting horizon.
Grayson made an odd clucking sound in the back of his throat and reached for the part of the dash that extended in front of her. She felt a whooshing of cool, moist air and immediately felt better. She leaned forward and breathed in more deeply. Each breath eased the knot in her stomach further. In moments she was even able to look up.
Now they were skimming above the water, facing a reassuringly steady horizon. The water was close enough that she could see it was a mottled affair, alternating between clear blue patches and fields of floating green. She imagined it was a seaweed of some kind or another. And obviously something cultivated, based on the unnaturally straight lines and measured distances between patches.
They were heading toward a rearing structure of rectangular flats on poles - six, no seven of them - all terraced together. The effect was one of a staircase leading up to the sky. Or a series of sandboxes.
The closer they got, the more detail she could pick out. She realized that the distance had caused her to misjudge the size - the structure was built on a massive scale.
There were people, people and smaller structures and even a few more air cars like theirs, darting around the land in a chaotic aerial dance.
Grayson evidently knew exactly where he was going, because he chose one of the middle platforms without hesitation. He moved through the swooping traffic with ease and in less time than she thought possible, he was shutting buttons down and unclipping himself from his seat.
“My apologies for that.”
The entire flight and landing were still flashing through her mind as a series of whirling pictures. Grayson’s voice brought her sharply back to the present.
“Sorry, what? For what?”
“Drop hops from ports to planets can be a little hard to take, especially if you’re not used to them. I should have engaged the stabilizing mist earlier.” He raked his hands through his hair and his face crumpled into an expression of frustration. “It seems I spend most of my time around you apologizing. I have spent quite some time with envoys, and yet at every turn with you, I stumble. I somehow make it harder instead of easier.”
He was staring grimly at the floor. For several long, awkward moments there was silence. Cass stared at the air over his head, unsure of what to do. At length, she realized that his fine golden hair was rumpled from where he’d run his hand through it. Without thinking, she reached over and patted it into place. It was baby soft to the touch. The lock she touched had curled around her finger. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought it might be the softest hair she’d ever felt.
She was so lost in the sensation that she’d almost forgotten the hair was attached to someone. Grayson had transferred his gaze from the floor to her. He was watching her carefully, a small smile on his face. It wasn’t an expression she’d seen before. It wasn’t his usual polite smile - there was something vulnerable in it.
Without thinking too much about the impulse, she released his hair and leaned forward to place a kiss on his forehead. It was a silly gesture, but it still felt right.
“Listen,” she said, “How about you stop apologizing? After all, how would I even know if you were making a mistake if you didn’t tell me? As far as I’m concerned, this is all so equally bizarre and confusing that I can’t tell what’s normal here - nothing you’ve said or done has made it feel any more bizarre. Besides,” she paused, feeling oddly shy, “you’re kind of my only friend here. If you spend all your time being polite and apologizing for not doing something correctly, it’ll feel like you are just doing what you’re supposed to do. And then,” her breath hitched as an unexpected well of emotion rose in her, “I wouldn’t have any friends, would I?”
The truth of the statement shook her. She felt exposed and she realized she’d told him more than she intended. The replay of her voice in her mind made her flinch, raw as it was with fear and loneliness.
Grayson sighed and held out his hand. She took it before she could stop herself. His hands were dry and warm as he cupped her hand in both of his, chafing it gently. “Very well. It shall be as you say. I will stop trying to impress you with my earnest good manners, and I will swear to ensure you are never friendless. Do you agree?”
It was almost his old, formal self, as his head lowered in what looked like a seated bow. But then he snuck a sideways glance at her from underneath a long fringe of eyelashes and, to her surprise, stuck his tongue out.
She couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up, and she wouldn’t have tried. It had nothing of the
hysterical quality of her morning fit. It was a genuine reaction to a genuine gesture and it felt wonderful.
“I agree, Grayson, friend of mine. So, let’s go see this market you promised me. We walk, you talk,” she added firmly. “You promised me answers to my questions, and I want them. I want to know everything.”
They walked and Grayson talked. He started with her question from the morning, and kept going. With every step, she learned more.
It seemed that human languages, no matter where the human beings happened to live, all fit within a certain range of vocal sounds. As a result, there was a great deal of crossover in the kinds of languages that were spoken - the more contact between people, the greater the melding .As a result, the common tongue in the central galaxies something of a polyglot - a mix of terms and words made of many different languages, some of which originated on Earth.
Adding to that, the language center of her brain had been augmented; “harmonized” was how he put it, during - of course - the reset process.
Cass found the first part of the explanation oddly comforting, as though some homesickness had been eased by the knowledge that at least some Earth was left to her. The second part gave her that whisper of walking to close to an edge, but she ignored it in favour of Grayson’s words.
He told her there were ten inhabited planets and many private or smaller moons and stable orbiting planetoids. He rattled the names of the major planets off at a speed, which Cass heard and promptly forget. All were inhabited by uniform, normal, regular, every day humans. Somewhat taller as a whole, it would seem, but still humans.
“Your Earth scientists have been sniffing around the reality of this for a while, but they keep getting stuck on the idea that it’s less common than it is. They even call it rare earth, I think. Have you heard of it?” When she shook her head, he continued. “It’s the theory that the circumstances that create life are very rare, and as such, it’s entirely possible for intelligent species to develop and never see another intelligent species.
“However, “ he reached for her elbow and navigated her past a cluster of people before he continued, “the density of solar systems that can sustain us becomes greater the closer you get to the center of the galaxy, and so human life developed in relatively close distance to other pockets of human life. Our own scientists’ current theory is that this galaxy was only appropriate for the development of our kind of life, and that other galaxies may have developed other forms of life. We are able to traverse the distances of our own galaxy with difficulty - traveling to other galaxies is not possible. And if we did get there, what would greet us?” He shrugged. “Perhaps we will find out one day, but I freely confess I am in no hurry.”
He navigated around another cluster of people she hadn’t realized were there. She couldn’t pull her attention away from Grayson. She could feel her confusion lightening with each new piece of information and she wanted more.
He didn’t stop the flow, seeming to anticipate each question she’d have before she could voice it. Envoys, it seemed, were collected from all three of the outer planets: Earth, Anasazi and Atlantis. Atlantis and Antasazi were both overcrowded, more so than her own Earth. Unlike Earth, however, the inhabitants of those planets were quite aware of the existence of the central planets and the envoy system. Because of the overcrowding, visiting ships were often greeted by mobs, all clamoring to be taken into service.
Cass found this hard to believe, on many levels.
He carried on, oblivious. “It’s quite dangerous to the people who meet the ships - there are frequent deaths from people trampling each other in their desire to get closer, to be chosen. Unfortunately, we are never able to take all who come.”
“Not even the women?” Cass felt a prick of anger. “Why would you take unsuspecting and confused people from Earth when you have all those people on those planets who want to come here?”
Grayson stopped, turning her gently to face him. “We would, Cass. We would if we could. However, only those with certain genetic traits are able to make the trip from the outer planets. Anyone else we brought along would die before they ever arrived. That trait is more common on Earth than it is on the other planets, and so Earth women are most common. That said, we learned from our mistakes on Atlantis and Anasazi. Earth does not know of us, and will not know of us unless they are able to discover us with their own technology. So we bring who we can, and do what we can for the rest. The central planets have launched planetary development teams to make more habitable worlds around the twins.”
Seeing dissatisfaction with his answer on her face, he went on. “As hard as it is for us to believe on the central planets, there are unwanted girl children born all over your planet. We take those we can and bring them here, where they are celebrated and cherished. I myself was the child of such a woman.”
She felt her eyes widen and her mouth drop. “You were the child of an envoy?”
“Technically, she wasn’t an envoy when she had me. She didn’t become one until later. Still, half my heritage is the same as yours.” He seemed proud, something Cass wouldn’t have expected.
She wanted to ask more about the Earth children and his own parentage when an expression of surprise passed over his face an instant before he fell into her. He saved them both an awkward tumble through fast footwork and a steady arm that snaked around her waist. The spell of their conversation broke abruptly and she realized they were surrounded by noise and people. They had arrived at the market.
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It was a jumble of sound and movement, as far off into the distance as she could see. They were standing at the mouth of a narrow road - more of an alley, to Cass’s mind. To either side of the opening were small wooden stalls. Each stall had people behind a wall of goods, and people facing them - the conversations they were having seemed animated and good-natured. The same scenario repeated over and over again at an array of stalls, each set up beside one another to form a vast circle. The middle of the vast market was a large circular area bare of stalls, but it was far from empty. There were people reclining on benches, or just milling around in the hundreds.
It was only then that her mind acknowledged what she was seeing. It wasn’t just people milling around. It was men. A veritable sea of male bodies clad in grey or lavender suits, all cut exactly the same as Grayson’s, with the only variety being colour.
Intellectually, she’d understood that women were not going to be a common sight. But then, she hadn’t been prepared to be the only visible woman. Every face around her was masculine.
What was worse, many of them had noticed her. How could they not? She stood out like a brightly coloured peacock in a field of peahen, dressed as she was. She was not going to escape without being noticed. The men around her were falling silent, and in almost no time, she was the subject of more than a dozen intense stares.
They stared with such intensity that she took an involuntary step backward, straight back into Grayson’s embrace. “Steady on, old girl,” he whispered next to her ear, putting on an accent that almost sounded British.
It had the intended effect of distracting her. She took a deep, bracing breath and tried to ignore the feeling in the pit of her stomach. For a moment, it felt like she walked into a cage full of hungry lions with her as the only hope of lunch.
She was saved from having to look up and meet the intense scrutiny again by a tug at one of her brilliant blue sleeve. A solemn looking little boy stood at her elbow. He was a sturdy little creature in a miniaturized version of the grey jumpsuit. On his head was a neat little cap that looked like it could’ve been woven from natural fibers. His hands were folded rather formally together in front of him, and his posture was that of someone waiting to be noticed.
She couldn’t help the smile she gave him. Here was a gaze she could handle.
She was spared from wondering why he’d tugged at her sleeve. As soon as he was sure he had her attention, he spoke.
“Are you an envoy?” The question was delivered from a sweet little rosebud mouth in a high piping voice. His cerulean blue eyes held simple curiosity. She opened her mouth to answer and nothing came out. Was she an envoy?
She was forestalled in her attempt to formulate an answer by Grayson. “Cass is very new to the central systems. “ He made no effort to lower his voice. His words created an immediate stir of whispers, the words new and envoy echoing around in a hushed susurration.
From out of the whispers, the same clear voice piped up. “Can I have a hug?”
The sound around them changed from quiet whispers to sharply inhaled breath from multiple directions, followed by complete silence. The boy ignored it all and continued to look at her and only her.
She dropped into a crouch without even thinking. She could no more refuse this request than she could have refused breathing. He wanted something that she had the power to give, something as universal and simple as hug. It was the first decision she’d been able to make since she’d come here, and it was an easy one.
She smiled and nodded, hoping the gesture translated. Then she opened her arms and waited. There were more gasps, but she didn’t look up to identify the source.
With an impish smile and a surge, the boy arrived. A puff of dust and little boy scent came along with him. She could feel his chubby little arms straining to circle her neck completely as his head nuzzled in under her chin. Something in her melted.
“Farlo! Farlo, where have you gone off to, now? By my word, boy, if you’ve wandered out of the market again, I swea-.“ The speaker pushed through the now-silent crowd and fell immediately and equally silent.
The man, tall, thin and lavender-suited , couldn’t have realized how comical he looked - frozen in position, mid-step and mid-sentence. Cass saw him over the top of the boy’s head and would have laughed out loud if his expression hadn’t been one of horror. He was staring at the boy in her arms as though he’d found him playing chicken on a cliff.
He must have stopped breathing when he stopped speaking, because after several moments of silence, he exhaled in a huge rush of breath, taking in another with the same force. He reached for the boy with a lightning quick strike that was only blocked by a faster move from Grayson.
She’d given an involuntary flinch when he reached for the boy (Farlo, she assumed). Her charge, however, still hadn’t moved a muscle. He appeared entirely unfazed by the shouting or by her movement.
Grayson was attempting to engage in some kind of silent communication with the shouting man. Whatever he was trying to silently say was not coming across, for the tall man in lavender was still vainly trying to reach the lad through Grayson’s block. “I’m terribly sorry, envoy. Deeply shamed. It’s his mother, you see - Caleron, you can back this up,” the man pointed at one of the staring crowd members, who merely shook his head. Seeing no support there, he turned back to Grayson. “She died when he was just a mite, and he hasn’t spent a lot of time around other women since then. The only ones he sees are the Sisterhood, and they’re very patient with him. He doesn’t know any better, you see? He didn’t mean anything by it. Please.”
Disturbed by his pleading, she could only turn to Grayson for help. He looked steadily back at her, scanning her features in that uncanny way he had. He must have been satisfied by what he saw, for he turned smoothly back to the tall man, his polite smile firmly in place.
“The envoy has taken no offense. As I said earlier,” he cleared his throat and spoke even more loudly than before. He had to, in order to ensure that the ever-growing crowd heard him. “She is new to the central planets. However, I have been privileged to spend enough time with her to assure you that she would not easily take offense, particularly to a request like this.” With a bouncy bow, he made a sweeping gesture toward Farlo, who remained blissfully unaware of the scene he’d caused.
Grayson’s lighthearted response seemed to mollify the thin man. His facial colour, which had been starting to take on a ghastly purple hue, faded somewhat, though he still eyed her and the boy in her arms doubtfully.
She reluctantly stood up, detaching herself from the boy,, though he managed to keep hold of one of her hands. His grip was tight enough that she knew it would be difficult to take her hand away, even if she wanted to. Which she didn’t. The more she focused on him, the less she had to notice everyone else.
She looked up at Grayson. It was her turn to try and communicate silently, to plead. He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before turning back to Farlo. He bent down in front of the boy so that they could see eye to eye. “Well, young man,” he said, seriously. “My name is Grayson. I was going to introduce Milady Envoy to the wonders of Dau-prime market. But you know, it’s a very big job. She might even see things she wants to have, and I can’t possibly carry things. Do you suppose you might be able to help me with the escort duties?”
Farlo’s expression turned beatific. His already tight grip on her hand grew tighter. “Oh, good, the market is wonderful. There are so many things to see and try. Come on, Milady!” He tugged on her arm in excitement, and she allowed him to pull her through the throngs of men, who were mercifully only a blur.