For One Nen (7 page)

Startled, Tala stepped away from Deni.

Deni only laughed and called to the giant Het, “When you pick that up you can come help me down here. And Tala might read to us, that is, when she starts breathing again.” The girls laughed as Teltel stared at the mess on the floor.

“What-is-this?” Aiden said as he raced around the end of a planting row to the mess on the floor.

Teltel froze when he saw the tiny old man.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Teltel finally uttered.

“Ah! I must-fix it-
myself,” Aiden muttered to himself as he scooped the plant back into the pot, added the dirt, and pressed it with care.

“Be nice,” Tala reprimanded Deni softly. “He’s just, what, about sixteen or so. Just a kid.” She flicked some dirt in Deni’s direction.

Deni only smiled with her golden eyes as Deni so often did when she looked at Tala.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Deni said softly.

Teltel hurried to Deni’s side as he clumsily said, “I’m sorry about that. How can I help?”

She clapped the giant on the arm and said, “We’re digging up root vegetables today,”
Deni reached into the dirt and pulled out something round and orange.

Teltel stood in front of
the next mound but had to bend over quite a bit to place his hand on the dirt.

“Don’t be shy, kid, jump right in there,” Deni urged.

“I’ve just never touched dirt before,” he said hesitantly.

“Never touched dirt,” Deni said to Tala. “What are you guys teaching them in school these days? Dirt has been around longer than we have. It’s meant to be played with.” She took the giant’s hand in hers and thrust it into the dirt.

“Oh!” Teltel gasped. “I feel something.”

“Well pull it out, son,” Deni said with a laugh.

There in his giant hand was a giant orange potato.

“There you go, son. Got one on your first try and the biggest I’ve seen yet.” Deni was all smiles. “I
think he’s gonna work out fine helping around here.”

She put her potatoes up on a narrow shelf that hung above the mounds and ran the length of the gardens. “Just lay them up here and later we’ll come by and pick them up.”

As they made their way down the row plunging their hands into the mounds of dirt, Tala followed as she read.

1200 BE

Far below the surface of the planet REEN

Atenilek had grown tired of being cooped up and looked after. He was also concerned about his friend. He seemed to recall something that Tinnen had said.

“Master,” Tinnen had called him. “I wonder what he meant by that,” Aten
ilek mumbled to himself.

“Hnta,” A
tenilek called to his mother.

“Yes, Atenilek. Do you need s
omething?” She asked her son.

“Hnta? Has Tinnen been by to see me while I was resting?”

“Oh! That stench of a Nen? Don’t worry son. You never have to see him again. He’s been matched with Ehik. Tinnen is of the walking dead now.”

“No Hnta!” Atenilek bellowed.

“His ration has even been transferred by request of his family,” she said. Then she raised a hand to caress her son’s hair for comfort.

“No, Hnta,” Atenilek protested again. “This wasn’t his fault. I am proud, from proud people, and it was my pride and fear that tempted me. I listened to the voice of Ish calling my name. I was afraid and fearful but too proud to back down,” Atenilek confesse
d.

His mother spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “Well there’s nothing that can be done now. You rest.” She rose and left the room be
lieving the matter had ended.

Atenilek’s gills turned bright red as his breathing intensified with fear for his friend. His mother busied herself with her duties and left Atenilek alone to rest. But instead of resting, he rose from is bed and quietly l
eft his house to find Tinnen.

Only one step out the door and Atenilek heard a faint voice, “Master?”

Tinnen lifted his head from where he lay. Atenilek grabbed up his dear friend in an embrace and held him. He could see that Tinnen had grown weak from the lack of food as was the way of all Nen.

“Lie still. I'll ret
urn for you,” Atenilek said as he stood him against the rock.

Tinnen reached out a weak hand toward Atenilek's f
ace as he tried to say, “Master,” but the word stuck in his dry throat.

“I will return,” Atenilek reassured his friend. He took Tinnen's hand, gazed deep into his fading eyes, “I promise on my only hand I'll return.”

Tinnen slumped against the rock and his eyes rolled back. Atenilek lay him peacefully down. He crept quickly back inside his house and packed a pouch made from kench hide. He filled a smaller pouch with water and slid it into the bigger bag. Then he filled two horns with grain that had been cooked through by rolling it in a flattened vine with a large stone of light. He quietly left again as he threw the straps of the pouch around his neck, and with his good arm, picked up Tinnen easily and ran through the city toward the outskirts of the far-off tunnels. He knew he was betraying the Empire; the Het; even his own family by doing this. But he thought, “What would it hurt to save one Nen?”

Atenilek found a passageway and followed it slightly upward when he found a room that had a stone floor. The walls were covered with drawings and paintings
, but only as high as Atenilek’s elbow. He knew they had been made by a tribe smaller than the Het. He recognized immediately, some of the pictures. He was sure they were from the ancient tellers. He believed them to be Anthro. The paintings on the wall looked very similar to the ones that lined the walls of the sparsing ground. However these painted stories were different.

Instead of the Warrior woman, called Hrilla, killing soldiers and leading away hundreds into captivity; this story’s pictures read as though Hrilla had saved hundreds from a madman.

“This can’t be,” he said as he examined the walls. He followed the story of pictures and scattered words. He saw Hrilla’s name. He saw the story of the Hoth rebellion and the name Fbathin.

“But I always thought it was Hrilla who invaded the Empire and stole the children,” he mumbled to himself.

All the tribes had seen the history painted on the walls surrounding the sparsing ground of the ancients, who had been led away by Hrilla, to the surface of Hell. However, these historical writings were so far away from the Empire that Atenilek wondered if it was possible someone from the surface had reentered the tunnels and made these different accounts.

Emperor Kent had given the duty of history keeping to the Goweli, beautiful and nimble. They were well versed in the art of storytelling and painting, dancing and singing, even
their genetic makeup was seen as the most elegant and lovely.

“But who would change the tellings of the Goweli?” Atenilek wondered aloud. They were only allowed to show in their drawings what Emperor Kent chose for them to display.

“This must be a work of fiction,” Atenilek believed.

All of these thoughts flashed through Atenilek’s brain
, but when Tinnen stirred in his arms, he focused again on finding a suitable place for his small weak friend. A tub-like structure was a few giant steps away.

Atenilek almost stumbled when he tried to kneel down. He forgot his right arm was gone. He barely caught his balance without dropping Tinnen headfirst into the stone structure beneath him.

After steadying himself, he lay Tinnen down gently and took the pouches from around his neck and began to help him drink. Tinnen quickly became aware of his friend giving him aide and he drank heartily. Tiny Tinnen smiled as he relaxed back into the tub-shaped rock.

While Tinnen rested
, Atenilek investigated the large room. Though the paintings occupied his attention for quite a while he was also curious about a place of wild growth.

They stayed until late in the day. Atenilek
gave freely of the food and water he brought for his friend from his own rations.

When Tinnen drew a strong breath he exclaimed with a quiver in his lip, “My debt
to you grows deeper, Master.”

“You are quite well,” Atenilek said with a pleased smile. “I thought I’d lost you, my little friend. I’m glad that the Nen revive quickly when nourished.”

“What could you be thinking?” Tinnen asked with a shake of his head.

“I couldn’t let your life be star
ved from you.” Atenilek said. “I care for you.”

“
But I will leave tomorrow never-the-less. My life will undoubtedly be taken. How it is taken is of no consequence.” Tinnen spoke with courage.

“But,” Atenilek began befor
e Tinnen interrupted.

“Ehic is strong and I will not be swift,” Tinnen said plainly.

“But you can be,” Atenilek argued. “I have seen you as swift as a ray of Ot. I will feed you all day. You will see. I will help you.”

“There is no help for me, Master. I will leave you. Only that I wish I could have served you better and longer, Ma
ster,” Tinnen grew tender as he spoke of his fate.

“Why do you continually call me, Master? I am just a Het. We’re giants but we’re not gods. You don’t have to serve me,”
Atenilek said.

“Oh! But I do. I promised the Life Giver that if he spared your breath I would serve you the rest of my days.” Then Tinnen smiled good-naturedly. “But it was not a giant promise, Master. For my service to yo
u will just be one short day.”

Atenilek was not amused at his friend
’s attempt at a tiny witticism. He didn’t even smile; but rose quickly to his feet.

“Where do you go, Master?”

By this time it was early morning, the day of sparsing, and Atenilek was standing over his friend as though he were saying goodbye. Atenilek knew his cousins and parents would soon find him. A Het’s keen scent was able to find a twine beetle twenty yards away.

“I will kill for you,” Atenilek waved his nub of an arm toward his friend. “You stay here and feed as I go to the line for you.”

“No, Master,” Tinnen protested.

“I will not lose you,” Atenilek called back as he took giant steps back down the great passageway through t
he tunnels toward the Empire.

“Oh! May it never be,” but even as Tinnen jumped to his feet and raced after him he could not catch up to his giant friend. Atenilek didn’t go home but instead, went straight
to the entrance to the sparsing ground. There he met Lakis, his cousin, the entrance guard.

“Atenilek! Where have you been? You shouldn’t be here
, they’ll be coming soon and your parents searched for you all the night.”  

“I am
here to kill,” Atenilek said.

Lakis looked stunned. “You’re not making sense
Atenilek. Go home and rest.”

“I am here to kill,” Atenilek repeated. “And I take the place of Tinnen
, the Nen, small and swift. I will fill his place in line.”

“Have your senses left you, cousin? No Het has
ever killed in the sparsing. The empire needs us to secure the perimeter. That’s why others must go. It benefits the entire kingdom.”

“Kent has pushed you for so long that you are one of them now. Your thoughts are no longer your own,” Atenilek said to his cousin.

“It is you that cannot think straight. You were allowed to play with that filthy Nen for way too long. Don’t let his charms be fatal,” Lakis remarked. When the two giant Het showed no signs of backing down, Lakis coldly said, “Emperor Kent will never allow this.”

Atenilek replied. “Then I will make him,” and there he waited for the arrival of Kent
, the leader of the empire and final say on all such matters. He stood still and silent, even while Lakis carried on with his concerned urgings for Atenilek to return home and forget this plight. Even when his concerns turned to bullying, and when the bullying turned to complete begging, and even when the begging turned to silence, there Atenilek stood – strong and proud.

297 AE

Aboard the EGRESS

“Cha,” Teltel said with a pleased grunt.

They had reached the end of the row of orange potatoes and Tala stopped reading.

“Can she keep reading?” Teltel asked Deni eagerly. “I can still help.”

“Well
, how are you with planting?” Deni asked the giant teenager.

Teltel’s smile faded as he admitted, “Don’t know. Never done it.”

Deni was amused by how ardent the boy was.

“Well you can bring me that gray tub sitting over by the wall.”

Teltel retrieved it quickly but fumbled it a little with his large uncoordinated hands.

He se
t it clumsily on the table and stood, awaiting instructions.

“These are called slips. They get planted into the same mounds where we just dug out the orange potatoes.”