Shadow World (8 page)

Elspind are a curious people. We like to learn."

No kidding,
Mark thought, remembering their day together.

"Now the CLS cultural team has been on Elseemar for seven of your years,"

Eerin was continuing. "While they live, in many ways, as simply as any Elpind, they have shown us many wonders. Images of worlds beyond our own, glimpses of machines and devices that can replace our own labor in the fields, of new philosophies and ideas. Most Elspind are eager to learn new ways, but some feel threatened. They fear new ideas will push away the old."

"What do you think?"

"Hin sits on the ruling council, the WirElspind. It is hin's duty to investigate the new possibilities and help hin's people make wise choices," Eerin said evasively.

Mark's first impulse was to press for more details, but his training cautioned him to go slow. Besides, a great wave of sleepiness suddenly washed through him.
Later,
he thought.
There will be time to learn all about each
other. That's what a pair project is all about.

"That's a heavy responsibility," he said aloud. "I know this trip is part of your investigation, and I'm honored to be involved. I hope I can help you learn what you need to discover." He leaned back on the couch, unobtrusively easing his shoes off with a sigh.

"When can hin see the rest of the school?" Eerin asked. The Elpind had asked so many questions that they'd only covered two of the domes and part of the underground facilities.

"We'll have some free time tomorrow after our first training session," Mark replied. "There are a lot of people eager to meet and talk with you, and many activities you might like to try." The last words of his speech were half swallowed by a

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massive yawn that erupted before he could stifle it.

It didn't seem possible that the Elpind's eyes could grow any rounder--but it certainly appeared as though they did.

"What was that?" Eerin asked, ignoring Mark's response and pointing at his mouth.

"Uh ... we call it a 'yawn.' " Mark gave the last word in English. "Humans yawn when they need to sleep. And I'm really beat--uh--tired. Sleep's going to feel great tonight."

"Sleep," Eerin repeated thoughtfully. "Yes, hin heard of that, but hin has not had the opportunity to study it closely." The Elpind examined Mark's reclining form with avid curiosity. "How long will Mark do this sleeping activity?"

"What?" Mark sat back up. "Are you trying to tell me you don't sleep? That Elspind don't sleep?"

"Correct." The alien considered a moment and then offered, "No, not fully correct. There are rare times in the lifecycle when Elspind require inanimate rest to store energy. At those few times, we sleep, but only then."

"As much energy as you put out during the day"--Mark was remembering the pace Eerin had set during their tour-- "I'd think you'd need to store energy every night. Don't you get tired?"

"If hin is tired, hin thinks quietly or hin eats. Food creates energy, of course, and so do hin's thoughts."

"I am eager to learn more," Mark said. It was, he'd discovered, the polite Elpind response when a speaker introduced new information. "But I would like to learn it in the morning. Humans don't learn well when they are tired.

We must sleep every night." Remembering Eerin's earlier words, he asked awkwardly, "Uh, did you really mean you would like to observe someone sleeping?"

Eerin nodded eagerly.

"Well then, I'll sleep out here. Feel free to observe." His grin got lost in another huge yawn, and in spite of feeling like a prize specimen about to stretch out on a lab slide, Mark slid back down on the couch. "What will you do all night?"

"Think and remember, of course."

"Of course," echoed Mark wearily. "Have fun. And listen, wake me if you need me."

"Hin will not need Mark," said the Elpind serenely.

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Shutting his eyes, Mark rolled onto his stomach, instinctively seeking his favorite sleeping position. He'd been so busy ever since the Tapping that he'd had no time to dwell on his problems, but now his depression returned like an unwelcome visitor. Tired as he was, the image of Sulinda formed behind his closed eyelids.

He'd spotted her in the crowd that surrounded him after the Tapping, buzzing with congratulations and curiosity. Leaving Eerin to Cara and Rob for a moment, Mark beckoned to Sulinda and the two of them went down the steps to the backstage area and found a private nook. "Congratulations," she murmured, and leaned forward to give him a quick kiss. But Mark didn't let her get away with that--instead he put his arms around her and returned her kiss like a starving man finally set before food. He felt guilty as hell for doing it, but he'd missed her so much during these last two weeks!

The young man shifted uneasily, remembering how Sulinda's eyes shone when he finally raised his head, how she nestled close to him. "It's been a long time," she whispered, and her dark eyes said, "I want you back."

It was then that Mark had told her he was dropping out of school. He watched her face change, felt her step back, out of his arms, knowing that Su now understood, as he did, that his leaving the Academy meant it was
really
over between them. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done it," he said, referring to the kiss, "but, SuSu ... I couldn't help it. I still care."

"I care about you, too," she admitted, "but under these circumstances, I don't think we'd better see each other again."

"Maybe we could talk ..." he began, but her hair rippled like an ebony wave as she shook her head no. "There's nothing for us to talk about. It's over, and you don't want to listen to me tell you what a mistake you're making--leaving StarBridge, I mean. Good-bye, Mark."

He sighed softly against the couch cushion.
She's right, it's over ... but that
doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.
He knew he'd respect her wish not to see him again. Today's slip had been too painful to risk a repetition. He could hear Eerin moving about the room.
Since I can't sleep, I ought to get up and talk to
hin again,
he thought fuzzily.
I'll just rest my eyes for another minute ... just a
few seconds, that's all ...

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* * *

Ri-El Eerin, The Part of Enduring Life known as Eerin, moved about the small room, flexing hin's long, narrow feet. Hin missed the cool softness of grass, the damp firmness of soil, the rough textures of the wide tree roots that laced the paths of hin's mountain home. Here the surfaces beneath hin's feet were all smooth and hard and cold or else blandly soft-- "carpet" was the English word, hin recalled--so that one could not know the true texture of the floor it hid.

Lieor, hin's sibling, had been envious when Eerin had left, but now Eerin knew that Lieor would have been miserable out here, away from the fields, forests, and streams hin loved so well. Lieor would have felt as rootless and dead as one of hin's sestel plants ruthlessly torn from the ground.

Eerin had learned on the long journey to StarBridge that to think too often of home was to make hinself sad; deliberately, hin switched back to the present.
Is it safe to turn and look at Mark yet?
Eerin wondered.

Hin knew that it often took humans several minutes to enter this strange state called "sleep." In spite of Mark's invitation to watch, Eerin feared it might be impolite to do so during the transition phase. Transitions on Elseemar were special times in the lifecycle and reserved for the family. It would do no harm to grant the human the same courtesy.

Finally, though, hin felt it would be permissible to begin observation. Quickly reviewing the scientific facts about sleep that hin had learned, the Elpind padded over to the couch-- quietly, for the information had listed some common deterrents to human sleep, and noise was one of them.

Eerin leaned over the prone figure, comparing Mark's respiration pattern, the movement of his eyes beneath the eyelids, and the other outward aspects of sleep with the knowledge stored in hin's memory.

After a few minutes, the Elpind nodded with satisfaction. The description had been accurate. Hin's observations confirmed that human sleep was not unlike the inanimate state that came over Elspind before the Change.

But humans did this activity every day! How could they bear to lose so much time from their lives? The waste was appalling.

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Eerin sighed quietly, retreating back to the center of the room. To see new things, learn new concepts, enrich one's time ... but so much had proved deeply unsettling. To be always enclosed, away from the sky, for example.

To meet so many different kinds of people in one place--when all on Elseemar were obviously from the same beginning seed. And to be paired with a human who must sleep away part of each precious day.

It is not hin's task to judge what is a waste of time and what is not,
Eerin thought sternly.
Each moment is a chance to observe and nothing learned
will be wasted. The WirElspind cannot know which knowledge will prove
valuable and which will not until all knowledge has been Told and sifted.

Eerin pictured the faces of hin's peers on the Council. Not since ancient times had a Council faced decisions such as awaited this one ... nor such opposition to the voice of the people as the Wospind offered. Hin must do hin's best to bring back wisdom that would help.

Eerin sank to the floor, legs folded beneath hin, and began to change hin's breathing pattern. Deeper and slower the Elpind breathed, flushing the wastes of fatigue from the cells of hin's body. Then, erecting a temporary mental barrier against sensory input, the Elpind began reviewing the day's impressions, facts, conversations, and visual memories.

In spite of the fact that hin did not wish to censor any knowledge before it was laid before the WirElspind, there were obvious duplications and irrelevancies that could be discarded. The rest would be processed and stored. Later, hin would thoughtfully sift and prepare the stored information for a
reci,
a "Telling."
Though it will take many reci to convey all that hin has
learned on this trip,
Eerin decided.
And there remains so much yet to learn!

Eerin's mental review and compilation of information took nearly three of the human measurement called hours. Finally the Elpind opened hin's eyes, only to see that Mark still slept!

Eerin sighed, then jumped up with fresh impatience. Hin's knowledge of humans said that sleep consumed an average of six to eight hours daily ...

but it had also said humans had different sleep patterns. Some required very little, others more.

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The Elpind studied hin's pair partner. Mark Kenner's size and weight, which hin had demanded to know this afternoon, put him in the average range for adult human males. Did that mean his sleep period would also be average?

There was nothing to do but wait and see.

Restlessly, the Elpind wandered into the adjoining bedroom and was overjoyed to see, in the corner, a computer link. Eerin had learned to use one on the ship. Now learning could be accomplished, even while the human slept.

Activating the machine, Eerin, with mind freshly cleared, prepared to gain new knowledge.

Mark emerged from sleep with a start, realizing that he'd just heard a high-pitched protesting
beeeep!
from the computer link. The Elpind was nowhere in sight.

When he reached the bedroom door, staggering a little, the Elpind looked up, plainly ecstatic. "Mark is awake! That is wonderful! Four human hours.

Long, but shorter than average."

Mark shook his head groggily. "Eerin, what are you doing?" The desk console was flashing urgently. The human stumbled over and hit the

"escape" control.

"Hin was modifying this setup so the computer would speak faster, but it stopped and made a noise."

"Oh." Mark blinked stupidly, still trying to come all the way awake. He rubbed his eyes hard, then checked the link's status. "Uh, this is as fast as it will deliver in oral mode, Eerin. I didn't know you could already use a computer. I was going to teach you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!" Eerin's shocked tone indicated that Mark might as well have said "next century." "There is much to learn before going home. Hin will not be postponing things for tomorrows. Hin learned to use these tools on the ship."

"Oh."
All that and learning Mizari, too? Damn, but these beings learn fast!

"What do you think of the computer?"

"Hin has discovered hin likes the computer's speech." The golden eyes shone. "Machines tell knowledge very efficiently, if not elegantly."

"What do you mean, not elegantly?"

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"Without rhythm, measure, and style, gaining knowledge is not as pleasurable for hin."

Mark stifled a yawn, intrigued despite his weariness. "Can you explain more? About the rhythm and style, I mean?" "Listen." The Elpind activated a file sitting in buffer. "Elspind. Lifecycle," said the computer in a soft, stilted voice. "Each Elpind is born neuter and remains so for the rough equivalent of ten standard years. Hin (the term denoting the neuter state) then enters the Change and emerges as either han (female) or heen (male). The adult mates for life soon after the Change and begins to reproduce the species.

Death occurs four to six years after the Change."

"Pause," said Eerin. "Does Mark hear? Without rhythm, there is no flavor. A Telling would--"

"Wait a minute," Mark broke in. "I'm confused. Eerin, which are you going to become, han or heen?" "Hin does not know."

"You don't know whether you're going to change into a male or a female?

Surely you have some idea, sometime before this Change thing, how you'll come out." "No."

"Well, which do you want to be?" Mark restrained the urge to kiddingly add

"when you grow up." If Eerin was any example, the hin were, indeed, "grown up." He'd already gathered from Eerin's conversation today that the neuters built, administered, and maintained Elpind society; the han and heen built families.

"Hin will be happy to be either. Both han and heen are valuable and needed to give life to the people. But"--the Elpind showed signs of impatience--"hin wished to show Mark the difference between the computer's speech and a Telling. Mark will hear the rhythm, the measure, the style."