The Farpool (48 page)

“Judicial proceedings against law-breakers
are normally overseen by the Metah and her staff. In practice,
decisions are often left to the staff or the Metah’s chief of
state, known as the Mek’too. The council of em’kel representatives,
known as the Kel’em, offers advice and counsel on legal matters and
in the event punishment is necessary, will perform this duty.

“The most common form of
punishment is either exile or a form of officially sanctioned
silence, called
jee’ot.
In
extreme cases, execution can be decreed, either by live burial or
more commonly by flotation, where the offender is forced to the
surface. Such cases are rare.

“Om’torkel claims a line of unbroken,
uncontaminated descent from Omt’or, Daughter of Shooki….”

Chase fiddled with his echopod, trying to
turn the thing off. Finally, he managed to click, grunt, and
whistle well enough to force the echopod into silence.

“Well, that’s pretty much more than I wanted
to know,” he murmured to himself. He went looking for Kloosee.

The summons from the Mek’too came shortly
afterward. A messenger from the Metah had appeared outside the
em’kel chambers. Kloosee received the bulb and played it for
everyone, all had gathered around to hear. Chase was commanded by
the Metah to appear in her lawgiving chambers the next day.

“These chambers are inside the pyramid,”
Kloosee explained. “I’m summoned too. Longsee as well. We’ll go
together.”

Chase spent a restless night in the em’kel of
Putektu, tossing and turning in his sleep niche. He was cold,
tired, a little hungry and anxious. He wondered how Angie had
fared, going back through the Farpool. Had she made it? Was she
back on Earth? Or was she…somewhere, who knew where… else? He tried
covering the niche opening with its netting but to no avail.
Omsh’pont was always a restless city, even with the return of the
great sound, and its residents roamed and squawked at all hours.
Several females came nosing by but Chase found he wasn’t
interested. They darted off, disappointed.

Finally, a fitful sort of sleep descended on
him.

Chase was startled awake by Kloosee
himself.

“Eat now,” Kloosee told him. “We must be at
the lawgiving soon.”

Chase made himself as presentable as he
could—there were no mirrors in Omsh’pont and he knew he looked like
an iguana on steroids anyway—then he gulped down some clams and
pods while drifting around an oval bed of pinkish-white coral –the
em’kel’s main gathering spot. It was a custom of Kloosee’s em’kel
to drift quietly in orbit around this structure as members ate and
talked. Still groggy and anxious, Chase found himself bumping into
others as he drifted about. There was something like grumbling when
that happened, but Chase found he really didn’t care.

Kloosee, Longsee and Chase set out across
Omsh’pont shortly afterward. The city was as busy as ever, with
thousands of kelke roaming about. Chase had often wondered if any
work was ever done here. The Omtorish seemed a gregarious sort,
much given to strolling about, chatting, eating and copulating.

I could get used to this
sort of lifestyle
, he kept telling himself.
It’s a beach bum’s dream.
But he was
still depressed and he knew why.

He missed Angie.

A squat pyramid dominated the seabed near the
center of the city, surrounded by multiple levels of pavilions and
floating platforms, all connected in one way or another. The
pyramid itself was a squat formation, leveled off at the top into a
canopied open space that was the Metah’s public plaza. Kloosee had
told him that the pyramid was honeycombed with caves, niches,
compartments and chambers.

“The lawgiving is below the plaza,” he
remarked, as they approached the upper slopes of the pyramid. They
reached an outer perimeter of glowing coral, denoting the Metah’s
chambers, and there a squad of prodsmen checked their identities,
pulsing each of them carefully, repeatedly, to make sure.

Finally, a single prodsmen motioned for them
to follow. The trio entered the pyramid through an opening below
the coral fence and followed a confusing warren of corridors,
passages and tunnels, until they came at last to a larger cavern,
hollowed out of the pyramid interior. More glowing coral circled
the cavern in concentric bands, while glowfish drifted in knots
about the space.

The Metah, Iltereedah luk’t, floated serenely
over a small pedestal that looked like an open palm. White
tube-like plants formed the fingers, waving gently in the
prevailing currents. A gathering of officials huddled in one corner
of the oval space, murmuring to themselves. As they came into the
lawgiving chamber, Chase could sense an undercurrent of tension.
The knot of officials stirred uneasily and tails and flukes whipped
and snapped in obvious discord.

Iltereedah wasted no time in bringing the
proceedings to order. Chase listened first to the tone of her
voice…all grunts and squeaks and clicks and whistles, then to the
echopod translation. He decided the Metah was solemn and brusque
this day.

“…
have taken the
tekn’een
. My memory is fully enhanced. Nothing
will be forgotten. Nothing will be overlooked. I will consider all
sides of this case, all the details. After this, the bonding will
proceed.”

Chase turned to Kloosee, who whispered in his
ear, much to the displeasure of a nearby prodsman.

“It’s the thought-bond,” Kloosee told him.
“The Metah will merge her own mind with the witness and probe
deeply, to ascertain if what the witness says is true.”

Chase had a sinking feeling. “Who’s the
witness?”

“You are.”

Several officials—Chase later learned that
they were the Kel’em, official representatives of all of Omt’or’s
em’kels, came over to Chase and Kloosee. Gently but firmly, they
nudged Chase away, forcing him toward the Metah’s bed. Chase
drifted up before Ilteeredah and regarded her with scarcely
concealed dread.

Iltereedah spoke. “I pulse anxious
feelings,
eekoti
Chase. The
thought-bond is part of our law. My staff will give you something
to calm you—“At her words, one aide dispensed a small round bulb
into Chase’s hands. With his own hands, the aide mimicked that
Chase was to squeeze the bulb contents into his mouth.

He did so. It tasted tart, stinging his
tongue a little, but not altogether unpalatable.
Not bad
. Then his tongue went numb
and his mouth seemed frozen in position. He tried to speak but
nothing would move. Bubbles dribbled out of his mouth. Unseen hands
pushed him further forward, into the Metah’s bed. Soon, he found
himself below Iltereedah, enveloped in her massive gray bulk, like
a baby suckling. Her armfins and tail flukes pinned him in
position. Eventually, she pressed her entire bulk on top of him,
smothering him.

At first, he couldn’t breathe. It was like
those pillow fights he’d had as a child with Kenny and Jamie, the
kind where you couldn’t breathe and you were laughing so hard your
sides hurt.

Only this time he wasn’t laughing.

The Metah was an older female but she had
considerable bulk. He thought about the first time his Dad had
taken him diving to the hundred-foot level, how heavy and cold the
water was, pressing in, how he’d fumbled with his BC, his
regulator, his weights, trying to maintain depth, not go any lower.
The water was an oppressive shroud, engulfing him, squeezing him,
penetrating everything…that’s what it felt like.

Chase figured he was dreaming, woozy and out
of control. Sometimes he had dreams where he was flying over some
landscape…Scotland Beach, some strange desert he’d never been able
to identify, Jupiter, Mars or whatever sci-fi movie he’d most
recently seen. But this dream was different. In this dream, he was
swimming, speeding through the water with a strength and power he’d
never imagined.

He smelled things, blood here, tchinting
beds, mah’jeet blooms far off, the tart sting of a ripe gisu pod.
He felt the rush of water flowing against his flanks, felt the
temperature differences, the salt, the silt, the rough currents…it
was like he had a map in his head. He could sound things, see
inside of things, know when a friend was happy or sad, reading the
echoes like a book.

Chase realized he was somewhere else…he
was inside Iltereedah now, he
was
Iltereedah. Somehow, their minds, their senses, had merged…he
was experiencing Omt’or and the lawgiving as Iltereedah sensed it.
For the very first time, he knew what being Seomish truly meant. It
meant family, warmth, belonging…cocooning, knowing everybody and
everything, tasting everything. It meant joining, unity, harmony,
concord,
shoo’kel
and a
hundred other feelings he had no words for. Now he felt them and
knew them for the first time—

There seemed to be an echo…no, that
wasn’t quite it. More of a beat, like a musical cadence…pounding in
his head. The beat goes on….and on and on. Now it’s expanding,
filling his mind, he can’t get rid of it…it’s swelling, taking over
everything. The beat was a pulse. Like an old submarine movie, he
was being pinged.
Yeah, that’s it. Active
sonar. Right full rudder. Target five thousand yards…match bearings
and shoot…no, that still wasn’t it.

Chase realized somebody, some
thing
, a person, was messing around
in his mind and he was powerless to stop. Opening drawers in the
file cabinets of his memory, asking questions, examining
things…
what the hell is
this
?

Then, it stopped. As suddenly as it had come
on, it ceased. And the warmth and the joining resumed again. He
felt drowsy and light-headed. In time, he fell asleep.

The thought-bond was over.

When Chase woke up, he was back in Kloosee’s
em’kel, back in the close confines of Putektu’s cave. Shapes darted
by. Echoes sounded and reverberated off the cave walls. A face
materialized in front of his eyes.

It was Kloosee. He offered Chase some pods to
suck on. They tasted good.

Chase was still a bit groggy. “What
happened…did I do okay?”

Kloosee was presently joined by another
em’kel member…the name Kleko came to mind. Kleko was huge, older,
massive in girth. His face loomed like a continent in front of
Chase.

“The thought-bond is done. The Metah has made
a ruling.”

Chase finished his pod and asked for another
one. Kleko produced a small basket full. Chase devoured all of
them.

“What happened? What did she decide?”

Here, Kloosee was clearly anguished, pained.
“Tulcheah is guilty. The Metah determined that what you testified
was the truth. Tulcheah…and another Ponkti male not here in Omt’or
sabotaged the shield. The substance they applied caused the shield
to fail at that point.”

“So what happens now?”

Kloosee darted off and circled the cave,
bumping into several others. Chase tried pulsing his friend…it came
back echoes of confusion, concern…something like pity…Chase wasn’t
sure he was reading the echoes right.

“Tulcheah must die. She is to be banished…to
the surface. To the Notwater.”

At first, the thought didn’t register fully
with Chase. “That’s not so…” then he realized that for Seomish with
no lifesuits, Notwater was death.

“You’re upset,” Chase said simply.

Kloosee wouldn’t stop circling. He had to
move to make sense of his feelings. “I am. You pulse correctly,
Chase…you’re learning. Tulcheah is with the Kel’em now. They’re
preparing her for the ascent. It happens tomorrow, when the
currents are right.”

Now Chase was sad too. Seomish law, Seomish
justice…he’d had his first taste of it. “Didn’t she defend
herself…you know, like have a lawyer or something? To argue against
the judgment?”

Kloosee finally ceased roaming and drifted
sadly by the cave entrance. Kleko eased past him with his empty
basket and they were alone…an unusual occurrence on Seome, Chase
realized. “I’m listening to the echobulb translate…if I understand
your word ‘lawyer’ properly…we have no such thing. The Metah is the
law. She makes the law. She decides the law. She determines when
the law has been broken…and how the lawbreaker will be punished.
It’s been decided.”

“So that’s that?” Chase remembered snatches
of the thought-bond. For a very brief moment, he had been the
Metah…or at least, been joined with her. It brought a chill to him
and he shivered.

Kloosee said, “Yes…the matter is closed. Only
the banishing happens now. The Metah has called a meeting of the
Kel’em for right after Tulcheah ascends. What to do about the
wavemaker and the Umans…that will be discussed.”

Chase still felt sleepy. “I guess that
thought-bond took a lot out of me, Kloos. I need some rest.”

Kloosee nudged him back into the sleep niche.
“Stay here…I’ll see you are not disturbed. You’re coming with me to
the Kel’em tomorrow. We will roam together, about the city. Big
decisions have to be made.”

But Chase was half a sleep anyway. The world
shrank down to blurry view of the cave walls. Then there was
nothing.

The official
vish’tu
roam was a custom as old as the world.
Its origins were lost in the murky currents of the past, unclear
and shrouded by the mythical tales of the ancient cave-dwellers. It
was very much in the traditions of
Ke’shoo
and
Ke’lee
and
Shoo’kel
, and typically involved two roamers,
although custom did not dictate any set number. Entire em’kels, or
even whole kels, were known to conduct their business in
vishtu
, on roams that might last
from a few hours to a few days, and range over thousands of
beats.