Chapter One

TO QUESTION

IFHYU
OZOHARTH

 

Departing the 'meeting', we were encased in silence. It was unique. Offering of options and opinions I have never experienced.

 

On return to the erssavi umRain iDrhort and I entered the Injury Unit, the omTay proceeded elsewhere.

 

I viewed those who as myself had been enslaved. They appeared as breathing carcasses. Though shorn of their garments of slavery, though bathed and oiled, their flesh is mine; hideous in it's lack of fiber. Our hair sparse and thin, our bones jutting out unnaturally.

 

Some, as I, could ambulate with the assistance of poles, others without.. Some lay inert, feeders entering their bodies.

 

umRain iDrhort moved to speak with those who had been with him in the cave, no doubt to discuss the concepts the oRain had imparted.

 

I did not feel impelled to speak with those, who as I, had languished in slavery, , so regained my perch and surveyed.
A few ZeSha still wore the shackles, some stared with glazed eyes, recipient of the drugs dispensed to avert the requirement for suslugta.

 

The box which had assisted me in escaping the addiction was no longer necessary and I transferred it to another. I was no more captive to the poison. No more wearing the rings of my enslavement, no more the toy of the Kema.

 

Healing of my body was a natural process. I owned no scruple that within a few hands of teka I would be a facsimile of what I had been, ere the crash of our erssavi on Argale. Mentally, spiritually, I would never be but a hulk of complete degradation.

 

I watched imKoldi move about with purpose and as if my eyes had spoken he came to me, offering condiments which I accepted.

 

"Your leg will be healed." He said as if that was important.

 

"My leg can be amputated, Koli, I have no use for this shell."

 

"When you encounter your family--" he tried.

 

"My family? I would my family mourn the ZeSha I was not quake in nausea at the scum I have become! Give thanks there is none of your blood to see you, to hear your history, and despise you for condemning your lineage for who would wish to have a drop of your blood within them?"

 

I ought not have spoken so harshly to him for he evacuated the unit as if chased.

 

"Why do you assault Koli?" azKijitja asked from beside me.

 

I was tired, perhaps chagrined my words would be found discordant by one who had lived what I had.

 

"Kiji, why eat hope when it will not sustain?" I retort.

 

"To where did you travel?" He asked.

 

"I can not disclose or should not, for discourse was with names unspoken, yet..."

 

"Zha, if it does not impinge upon honour." he said avid.

 

"Honour? That word is alien to our mouths, Kiji."

 

His voice was a gynthe; "I do not require assault Fyu."

 

"Regret, my azi." I apologise.

 

I turned to the food provided and ate, knowing if I desired more it would be granted, yet I could not conclude the portion supplied.

 

oRain azKijitja was seated as I, his back resting against the bulkhead, and I could view his profile. The skin of his face so much darker than that of his body it seemed discordant, but I also have such demarcation, while those who resided in the mountain were paler than the humans I had viewed.

 

He met my eyes, perhaps assuming I would discourse, and I did.

 

"We will be transferred to another ship, visit the worlds of VeRash, then to Zechia, where the Kema will be deposited."

 

"Zechia." he mused.

 

"We will come before the Great Lord." I mention.

 

"Why?" He asks.

 

"That was my question to the speaker. Why? And I was informed that not only would this be chronicle, but that the Great Lord is actually present."

 

His voice crackling with surprise; "Here? The Great Lord is here within this void? Why is He not on ZerShaz administrating the Empire? Why concern himself with such as us?"

 

"You echo my dilemma." I admit.

 

In a voice of anguish; "So history will never forget our humiliation?" he defined.

 

"Zha. But this is where the speaker attempted to capture my sha; he asked me to number the days of anguish--not our anguish, but the anguish we experienced when the Embal strode upon ZerShaz ere the arrival of the Sakari."

 

"Anguish?" azKijitja puzzled, then repeated the Legend,

 

"The darkness of the Embal
      descended upon us as anguish."

 

to himsel and nodded as if forming synthesis where the matters were so unalike as to be incongruous, yet--were they?

 

What had we experienced during those early days? Though there are various rumours there is no evidence what precisely we suffered, nor for how long under the Embal yoke.

 

It could have been more etalia than countable, it could have been less than we experienced on Argale.

 

"Do you believe in the Cycle?" azKijitja asks now.

 

Many ZeSha saw existence as the circle with no beginning, no end, but a repetition of patterns.

 

"I believe in naught, Kiji." I reply.

 

My azi, Kiji, who had walked my path, who had eaten the anguish as had I, leaned his head against the wall, and gazing into the ceiling, granted a tale.

 

"My father was named uhRorif, after his grandfather. He oft recounted an incident of thrusting a spear at a chchpayn and missing. However, the beast impaled itself on the spear of the azi who stood behind him. His grandfather had recounted the same occurrence. If I believe, I know that there will be another uhRorif who will hunt and thrust and miss, and the chchpayn impale upon the spear of his azi."

 

"So the arrival of the Sakari now is part of the cycle, and she has secured us from anguish?" I quiz.

 

"Zha." He grants. "I am certain that many of our blood who suffered the anguish at the beginning of the Saga would to glory, but did not. Which is why there is an iFhyu, a azKijitja, a uhRorif, at this cycle."

 

I considered; "The speaker at the colloquium posed similar thought."

 

He paused a small season, his voice returned more controlled, his diction clearer, as if he recited the Saga; "Do we survive to die, Fyu? Bring forth no shazi, experience no triumph or joy? Have our lives not been elongated so that we can gain elevation and honour? Surely it is miraculous we are no older today than we were when our erssavi fell from the nealay. I ponder if the crystal did not preserve us so that we can perdure, for there must be significance, I can not conceive mere happenstance."

 

If it were not for the water we would have found death many etalia gone. All of us, even the youngest iTay would be dust. Why were we preserved? Why would there be a component of the crystal which maintained us until this rescue?

 

Should I dare to follow the path azKijitja has opened? Should I see the Cycle? Do I call the Argale who tormented us Embal and the advent of the Sakari then, the advent now, identical?

 

 

Chapter Two

Reciprocation

 

Jill uReglimi
oZoharth

 

I went with Stacy to the Injury Unit, and I sent for my zeduini.  When they gathered I informed of the operation to be performed upon iKhyarm. They were ever so excited to touch the matchless iKhyarm anyone would think I was flanked by a crack unit of surgical nurses instead of a set of poustie bitches.

 

iKhyarm was not only beautiful but powerful, his name 'in chronicle'. They could tell their grandchildren that they had actually touched him.

 

It annoyed that they couldn't extend a molecule of compassion to the pitiful ex-slaves which would be far more useful.  However, I would proceed.

 

Making a synthesis between human and ZerShaz medicine I would avoid anesthesia where possible.

 

I demand Stacy, a married woman, swab his back with a potent Zee chemical which deadened sensation, told iKhyarm not to move, postioned the equipment, made the incision.

 

I would manually reposition his vertebrae.

 

The ini watched in rapture as I tended the perfect ZeSha; and I almost chuckled recalling the thesis of my mentor, Connie Jarufsky, who, after how decades of intensive research, determined they were an 'egalitarian' society.

 

In no culture, no species, was one's appearance, name, attributes and exploits so predominant. ZerShaz society was the least egalitarian in existence.

 

I worked slowly, it was sensitive surgery, though not especially difficult, considering my previous operations. When complete I zipped the incision, injected iKhyarm against infection, applied a desensitizing bandage, then ordered the room evacuated.

 

I moved my stool to the top of the pod, to look into his face. He had been awake throughout, now met my eyes. I don't think he'd be surprised by my words.

 

"You've gone beyond the limits, iKhyarm." I said globally, referring to his obvious desire for Sharon.

 

"What is your demand?" He replied.

 

That's a plus; in their culture one doesn't waste words.

 

"Ki-ZerShaz stated he has a fascination to explore the regions beyond VeRash. You will request the mission."

 

"I can not envision existence beyond..."

 

"You will." I snipped.

 

"I will die."

 

"At least you will not dishonour yourself and others." I gave as cold and harsh as any ZeSha.

 

Before my words ceased to resound, I rose, strode to the portal, ordered those who waited outside to remove iKhyarm to a cabin, and that I was ready to examine one of the 'Retrieved'.

 

The less I said to iKhyarm, the better. The less time I wasted on him, the better my equilibrium.

 

I didn't really dislike him, I just found his 'personality' obnoxious. I never liked spoiled brats, especially when they were over twenty five.

 

I suppose I blamed him for not being allowed to complete my examination of Daktoy four years ago, which might have revealed the presence of g-86a in his system. If it had, Daktoy would not have suffered so many days of pain and come so close to dying.

 

Yet, I really shouldn't blame iKhyarm. He was in love with Sharon as I was in love with Daktoy.

 

There was a thump at the door. I had Stacy stand to the side, near the instruments, as a ZeSha was carried in.

 

Shockingly, he put his palms up, giving me homage. I nodded, not willing to admit this was the first one to do so.
He had been bathed, dressed in uniform. I wondered who had made the order to garb them as ZeSha. It was a great idea. The bathing and dressing removed a layer of what proved their slavery.

 

I looked over him, knowing he was aware I am the exalted Jill uReglimi.

 

The same iemn who would have thoughtless murdered me yesterday, now would lick the dirt from my toes.

 

oMignth, wearing thick rubber gloves held the power source. I explained that I would remove the shackles, then begin the skin grafts. I directed an ini how to apply the power to a point of the cuff on the ZeSha's left ankle.

 

When she and oMignth were in place, I nodded.

 

As the voltage activated the cuff, oMignth snapped the bands, the ZeSha exclaiming in anguish.

 

With the cuff gone, the horrible lesion revealed. I cleaned, disinfected, grafted, bandaged, with Stacy's assistance.
Now it was my zeduinis turn. These were the widows, their husbands had died after the explosion. They had the choice of getting off on VeRash, returning to an empty house to live a pitiful childless existence at the bottom of society, or grabbing the only chance life offered.  As zeduini, they would gain status, without me, they were nonexistent.

 

Of course, I wouldn't dismiss the impact of hearing my name in their sagas.

 

I watched and instructed, they completed the other ankle. I directed them to do both wrists, but I undertook the operation on the ZeSha's throat.

 

We let him rest a moment and deliberately I wiped his face as if their metaphysical/moral strictures did not apply to me. Being 'The Jill uReglimi' gave me the type of licence Sharon regularly took. It was more than useful to push as far as I could, exhibit power, dispense wisdom.

 

I ordered one of the ini to give the ZeSha water, he drank, gave thanks and I had him rolled out.  

 

As the second Zee was brought in, I asked oMignth about the addiction. He informed that fifty had been treated in the Zee way, which required the involvement of one hundred ZeSha as attendants.

 

The 'box' had been duplicated and currently seventy five had been or were being cured via it.

 

The remainder were being injected with surrogate drugs waiting their chance at either the compress or the box. Once the remnants of their enslavement, these cuffs, were removed, the subsequent care was nutritional, cosmetic, and for the most part secondary. Psychological evaluation essential.

 

The only psi in our 'loop' was Tony Johnson, though I found him more obnoxious than iKhyarm and Sharon.

 

I wish I knew more about the Kema, Sharon had dropped confusing hints about their nature, but until I was able to give them deep study I would only go so far as assuming they would require support in settling into their new world.

 

The Retrieved, given the duty of aiding the Kema, (along with ini and humans) should have 'something to live for.' I could not dismiss their suicidal tendencies. No matter their appearance, how well they seemed to readapt, each would be 'defective' going 'bad' at some future date.

 

Whether driven mad by nightmares, resorting to unprovoked violence, becoming catatonic, each of the 'Retrieved' needed intensive psi work.

 

imKoldi, who had gotten far more dispensation than the others could expect or get, was suffering night terrors, reverting to childish behaviour.

 

Yes, he had been, when his ship crashed on Argale, a child. But he had lived twice my years.

 

I had the impression his reversion to childhood was the only way he could deal with life; so would prolong it. In a perverse way, I believed Daktoy's introversion was also a coping mechanism.

 

Having gone through the suicidal period with Daktoy I knew each day lived a victory. If they could gain at least three years of 'new' past, seppuku might be averted.

 

I meditated on these things yet kept a secure eye on my zeduini and the Tubka who watched,

Imprint

Publisher: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Publication Date: 03-09-2022
ISBN: 978-3-7554-0934-2

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