Terra Nova: An Anthology of Contemporary Spanish Science Fiction (2 page)

But what fascinated Charni was the
pronunciation of sounds that were used to designate the different
beings and their implications.

Inert beings could be recognized and
identified generally by one word, while living ones, which were
complex in themselves, could be assigned more than one pronounced
sound, depending on which being was naming them.

For example, she had been
made to understand that the word that defined herself as a being
was “Charni.” Still, the living being closest to her (a sweet smell
with a touch of bitterness, a warm and soft texture, a melodic
sound, a slightly salty taste, and until recently a supply of food)
at times used the word “daughter.”

This usually implied
something agreeable, while she was called “Charni,” it tended to be
used to call her attention and, on occasions, to order her to do
something after reprimanding her for an error or
misbehavior.

On the other hand, another
being (strong odor with a tinge of acidity, smooth texture,
somewhat moist, slightly bitter flavor, and a low, harsh sound)
frequently appeared in the area that they inhabited, making a lot
of sounds against inert beings. Instead of using the word “Charni,”
it always used “girl.” Or when it wanted to imply rejection, “kid.”
Occasionally, though, it added “your” to the designation
“daughter,” but only when it spoke of her to the nearby being as if
Charni were not present … even though she was.

But things did not stop there, not at all.
The ramification and implications of names were complex and
connected to the references of their distinct origins.

To begin with, the nearby
being did not like Charni to call her “Kesha” the way others did
who approached them (generally with agreeable aromas and soft
sounds). Even less it liked to be called “woman” as other beings
would address her. These beings that came to visit had strong
smells and deep sounds and soon made strange, peculiar sounds and
impregnated everything with strong smells that bore an acidic
aftertaste.

No. Charni ought to call
her “mama” and, for some reason, she liked to make that sound.
Whenever she thought about or pronounced the sounds that formed
that word, she immediately associated it with protection, caresses,
breath, and teaching.

Ah … the world was so intricate. … Absolutes
did not exist, only references and groups. Complex branches of
thought whose origin developed from her own perceptions, the
perception of herself and her relationship with the world that
enveloped her, that moved, and that existed around her.

Touch defined dimensions, contours, limits,
and supplied sensorial concepts. Noises showed positions, revealed
existences, and gave names to distinct beings that tactile words
could not define. And smells and tastes finally outlined the
mixture and gave them complete consistency.

At times when she emitted noises and
vibrations at a certain level of her being, inside herself, her
contour became wet and sticky, and every time she wondered what
would happen if she were to be without one of those senses.

No, no, no. She did not want to think of how
the world would lose its consistency and become something strange,
confusing, unlimited and undefined if she could not perceive it and
define it in its totality.

Charni’s limits kept
growing at almost the same rhythm at which she continued to learn
to define the world that surrounded her. Mama, who almost never
left her side, was the one who showed her the different
pronunciation of sounds and textures to understand what existed in
her surroundings.

At one point, Mama firmly took her by the
mid-upper level of her contour and moved her through infinite
space, giving her no more contact with the world as she traveled
than that light pressure and a strange yet pleasurable sensation in
the midpoint of her being.

Then, to her confusion, she put her in
contact with the surface which until then she had only perceived
along the length of her contour, but this time only by means of her
lower collection points.

“
Come on, Charni. You can
do it,” Mama told her. “Don’t bend over. Hold yourself up with
them. Feel the surface only in that place. Come on. Be
steady.”

Charni did not understand most of these
sounds or their meanings, so it was hard to understand what Mama
was really asking of her, and even harder to do it efficiently. But
Mama did not give up or let her give up.

Almost systematically, she
held Charni, forcing her to consolidate her collection points on
the lower surface. Then she guided her to touch Mama’s own long and
straight lower contours and memorize what she had to do to make her
own, shorter and slightly curved, be the same. Then Mama moved away
and did not come back until the mid-lower contour of Charni hit the
lower surface of the world. And then … she repeated it
all.

After many, many attempts and a great deal
of effort, Charni managed to make her lower collection points obey
her. They did not lose contact at any time with the surface under
them, nor did other parts of her contour wind up touching it.

Mama gave her caresses and agreeable sounds
that almost put her in ecstacy. But the celebration did not last
long.

After a few moments, Mama made her move
along the surface, first by dragging her collection points and then
making them, one at a time, briefly lose contact with what was
below them and … move through nothingness!

It was an odyssey and took an enormous
effort to do what Mama urged her to do, and yet, for some strange
reason, she felt happy each time she did it.

She lost track of time and the number of
times she had to try until she could move by herself without the
safe touch of Mama. And when she succeeded … the world became even
bigger and wider than Charni had previously supposed. It was an
amazing discovery.

There were more contours, beings, and
textures. She perceived them with her collection points, she
smelled them, she hit them so they would make noise, she savored
everything until she had completely memorized it. Then she asked
Mama for the pronunciations of the sounds that defined the inert
entities that she did not know, so she was able to give consistency
and to put limits on the newly discovered, explored, and conquered
space.

Later, when her lower contours became
stronger and more obedient and she had memorized everything around
her, she began to move around in the world with more security. And
with each attempt, she went faster and faster. It was so exciting
…

But one time when she was calmly running
around within the limits that she knew so well, an unexpected being
put itself in her way.

Charni lost her balance and wound up on the
lower surface of the world, spread flat, unable to stop it.

Her first surprise. A tremendous one. Why
was something there when there was nothing there before? Why had
something new been added to what she already knew? Why? Then she
felt pain in various parts of her contour. Sharp, persistent pain.
And her immediate, instinctive response was to make noise, a lot of
noise, from her emitting focus.

“
No.
No, Charni, no,” Mama scolded.
“Strong
girls don’t do that.”

“
It hurts …” she managed
to pronounce, unable to control the noise for which she had been
reprimanded.

“
Yes, I know, and you will
be hurt again. But you must learn to endure it or else you’ll start
to walk through the world with fear, and that would be very
bad.”

Once again, Charni found it hard to
understand everything that Mama was saying with sounds and tactile
sensations. Still, she thought she correctly perceived the
implications and intentions. So, after with an enormous force of
will, she managed to lower the volume of the sound that her noise
emitter was making.

“
That’s better,” Mama
congratulated her. “And now, get up. These two always in front.”
She grabbed her two upper collectors and made her keep them
stretched out. “With time you’ll learn to cushion the blow and even
avoid falling.”

Charni did not understand that, either, but
once she had recovered from the scare, she was ready again to
travel the world, and it did not matter too much what Mama had
meant. Time would tell.

“
Mama. Fe-ah?” she said
before she began again. Its pronunciation and the implications she
had perceived in it intrigued her.

“
No. No fear, Charni. You
have to be brave or you won’t survive in this world with the
dignity of a Ksatrya.”

More pronunciations, more tactile sensations
that she did not recognize. Her question had really meant to ask
for an explanation about the concept, but she did not know how to
connect all the words to express her intentions correctly. But once
she was steady above the surface again, she set aside her curiosity
and ran around the world again. She wanted to discover where those
beings came from that had not been in the space she knew
before.

“Mama, what is
‘see’?”

Mama paused in the middle of the concept
that she was transmitting to Charni over part of her contour. Mama
had insisted she learn that words did not have to always be sounds.
Ideas and concepts could also be articulated by means of tactile
sensations. In fact, the words she drew over different parts of her
being had wider meanings and, in some cases, could even impart
emotions.

“
Who said this?” Mama
asked with a marked interest in her tone.

“
Chaid Khasat. He said,
‘You can’t see, girl.’”

The conversation has really been longer, but
Charni decided that repeating the sounds involved was unnecessary
and irrelevant at that moment. Still, she had made sure to use the
same tone to transmit the information as faithfully as
possible.

“
Oh … well, him,” Mama
replied with a tone whose meaning and implication Charni could not
define.

Chaid Khasat was a
peculiar being and, besides, he did not like to be called by that
name. Charni had to speak to him with the designation of “man” or
“sir” (above all “sir”). Very occasionally, if he was in the mood,
she could call him “Chaid,” but that very rarely
happened.

Mama usually called him
“sir Khasat” or, when he was not around, “damned invalid, good for
nothing.”

In spite of the implications of that second
designation, Charni truly felt a certain fascination toward him,
first because although the beings she knew had different limits,
their contours were similar to each other. And yet those of Chaid
Khasat were not.

She had begun to suspect the sounds he used
and his behavior were so different from other beings because of his
contour.

Chaid was clumsy. Very clumsy. He moved in
the world as if he did not sense its smells, his touch was
atrophied, the sounds of things did not reach him, he did not
recognize the world, or he were sensing or perceiving it for the
first time.

He also did not like it when Charni
enveloped him with her contour to strike up a conversation and
seemed nervous or agitated when she sketched words on his.

“
Go away, girl. I’m not
your stuffed toy,” were sounds he made often.

On one hand, Charni had noticed that each
time Chaid Khasat ran into an inert entity, he swore quietly and
got into a bad mood. He suffered for his clumsiness and pretended
it did not matter, yet sometimes he was infuriated the restrained
laughter of the beings who had sweet scents, soft and warm textures
and melodious sounds.

“
Women”: she remembered
the word that Mama had told her to use, above all in front of the
beings that shared the predominant characteristic of strong odors
and low sounds.

“
Men”: she scolded herself
for not having used the sound that defined them in the first place,
at least in her head.

Yes. As much as she preferred the tactile
words Mama had shown her that transmitted wider concepts, she had
to force herself to use those sounds, above all in the presence of
… men.

Mama especially insisted
on that. Men were not suitable for using the textures of words.
They had something called “pride” that not only blocked them from
that kind of learning, it made them react with violence or
rejection when a woman tried to remind them of that.

“
Hmm …” Mama emitted the
vibration of doubt before confronting the explanation. “Let’s
texture the sound ‘to see,’ all right?”

She enveloped Charni even more with her
contour to allow her to use sounds and tactile words in her
explanation.

“
As far as we women know,
men are born with an additional sense to the ones we have, a sense
that lets them obtain more information about what surrounds us and
give it even more consistency. And this same sense lets them
explore and move in the world that exists beyond our own. Without
it, survival wouldn’t be possible.”

“
A world beyond?” The idea
overwhelmed Charni. More worlds? Was that possible?

“
Yes, Charni. You’re still
not developed enough to know the true limits of ours, which is much
more defined than what you’ve perceived so far. And that’s because,
besides this world, there’s another world that can be reached from
certain spaces in ours, and it is so big, so enormous, that without
this fifth sense we would be lost in infinity and never find the
way to get back to our home.

“
This unlimited space is
filled with so much information that without the sense of sight, we
couldn’t understand it. In fact, even our own beings would reject
it. We couldn’t stand it. Imagine something like that, Charni. We
have to give thanks that men have this sense because only they can
protect us from those who inhabit this strange world.