The Star Whorl (The Totality Cycles Book 1) (22 page)

     “You’ve got it wrong,” he
said, shrugging, ruthlessly suppressing his reaction to the fight-challenge
chemi-scent of the other. “She found things out about my Famiya and
mother-Genus, and dropped you like offal. You can have her – if she’ll take
you.” He wished for the confrontation to be over, the desire so strong that it
was almost a glyph in itself that he could apply Nil’Gu’vua to.
Without
getting myself into trouble,
he thought, angrily.
I should not have to
be punished for Pelani’Dun’s offense!
He
did
summon Nil’Gu’vua, and
tried with all his Nil’Gu’ua ability to apply it to the idea.

     His words only seemed to
make Gotr-Hytiro’Vel even angrier, though – but anything he said would, at this
point. The other male clashed his scythes and bared his teeth. “She said you
would say that, you faithless profligate! I...!”

     Gotr-Hytiro’Vel stiffened,
then he writhed as the Gotrar-induction was forcibly, painfully removed from
his glyph from afar. He went from Gotr-Hytiro’Vel back to just being Hytiro’Vel
between one breath and the next. A Proctor stalked into the impending fray,
radiating outrage. Hytiro’Vel flopped to his knees, gasping and shaking his
head, his body trembling from the enforced regressive transformation. The
fighting protrusions began to recess back into dormancy.

     “Who is responsible for
this?!” Proctor Thynnu Gon demanded, putting her hand on Hytiro’Vel’s shoulder
and impressing a passivity glyph on him. Another glyph, holding those present
immobile, bloomed from her and spread through the crowded hall. “This – this
atrocity is forbidden! Who broke the mating-accords?!”

     Kreceno’Tiv did not move,
could not, but he knew without looking that Gotra Pelani’Dun had pressed back
into the crowd and was disappearing around the bend in the corridor. Others on
the edges and free to move were slinking away, also, and those close in enough
to be under the Proctor’s livid stare and immobility glyph dropped their gazes
and tucked their vuu’erio tennae away.

     “Kreceno’Tiv?” Proctor Gon
turned her sharp gaze to him, her Thynnu markings stark.

     Kreceno’Tiv moved his
shoulders as the immobility glyph eased enough for him to answer. “I am sorry,
Proctor, but he didn’t say who did this to him,” he answered truthfully,
gesturing to the dazed Hytiro’Vel. And in truth, Hytiro’Vel had not stated
Gotra Pelani’Dun’s name.

     “He was Gotrar-marked!
Weren’t you involved in a quarrel with a Gotra-Genus girl, recently?” the
Proctor asked suspiciously. A truth-glyph surrounded him.

     Kreceno’Tiv gestured
noncommittally. “I was. She thought I – that my interest had gone elsewhere.
She was correct.”

     “Is she why this young man
is on the verge of mate-challenging you?” the Proctor pressed, looking him up
and down, and noting that he had no Genus-induction.

     Kreceno’Tiv gestured
ignorance of his rival’s motivations. “He didn’t say. Not her name, at least.
He only said ‘she’.”

     “And you’ve no idea who set
Hytiro’Vel on you?” Gon asked one final time.

     “I couldn’t say with certainty,”
he answered. The truth-glyph tightened briefly, but there was no real
dishonesty in his words for it to hook into.

     “All right, Kreceno’Tiv, you
are obviously not going to inform on your term-mates, and you did not actively
participate in this challenge,” she said reluctantly, obviously still angry,
and frustrated at not getting an answer. “Go on to your next lecture. I would
guess that none of the rest of you will part with any useful information,
either. I will have to question all the Gotra-Genus young women in Secondus to
find the culprit, then. Be prepared to tell your parents that you will be part
of a formal inquiry into this, though, Kreceno’Tiv!”

     He gestured assent, and the
administrative glyphs let him go.

     Ro-Becilo’Ran came up to him
as he turned away and the crowd dispersed, the Proctor leading the un-induced,
dazed, and blood-covered young man to the healing chamber.

     “How did you do that?” he
demanded, grabbing Kreceno’Tiv’s shoulder. “Anyone else would have been dragged
up before the Secondus Magistrar!”

     Kreceno’Tiv shrugged,
gesturing self-effacement. He had fully expected to get into trouble. Being
dismissed without a formal reprimand had surprised him, too. He thought about
the glyph of desire-not-to-be-reprimanded, but did not credit that with his
narrowly gained clemency.
Besides, there will be an inquiry. Mother and
Father will not be pleased – I’m not even clear of my punishment for getting Okon,
the little Heretian girl, out of that abandoned building. I’m definitely not
completely clear of castigation, yet.

Whorl Sixty Nine

     Pavtala Ralili’Bax ran up to
him also, her face etched with concern.

     “Are you all right?” she
asked, looking up at him. She slid her arms around him, and her chemi-scent was
comforting again, soothing. He breathed deep of it, and smiled, held her close.
He was surprised to find that he was trembling.

     “Yes, I’m fine,” he said,
trying to be as reassuring. But he was not fine. He was angry, very, very
angry. Gotra Pelani’Dun had gone too far!

    
By the Hives, I wish I’d
never met her!
he fumed, even as he gestured acknowledgement to other
queries of his wellbeing. Added to that was the knowledge that there were
atavistic features within him that could actually be made to emerge, and the
entire situation had him in a kind of shock. Physiology had never covered that,
that battle-scythes could still be made potent! Or – did the rage and
chemi-scent induction
generate
the battle-edges to those ancient bone
features? He shuddered, trying to repress it, but Pavtala Ralili’Bax felt it.

     “I’ll take notes for us,”
she said, as they walked to their next lecture. Ro-Becilo’Ran, on his other
side, gestured assent. “You just – recover, all right?”

     He did not argue. His brain
still felt a little hazy, the need to fight jangling just below the surface of
his control. He could not, would not be able to concentrate, not as he was.
Wishing he could go home and just rest, he sat through the next few lectures,
staring off into the middle distance. He could feel glyphs of curiosity
directed at him once again, and had to consciously unclench his hands and
breathe slowly, to keep from exploding. The mid-turn break for a meal helped,
as his friends buffered him from probing questions, talking overloud in the
meal-hall, and parrying or talking right over questions thrown at him. By the
last lecture he had regained some of his equanimity, and no longer wanted to
swing a blow at anyone too near and not one of his friends.

     On the ride home in Pavtala
Ralili’Bax’s own transport, sparing him from the confines of the Secondus
transport, she kept her arms wrapped tight around him, her chemi-scent gloming
comfortingly, and he closed his eyes and relaxed against her, doing his best to
empty his mind. For he knew his trials were not over yet. There were still his
parents to face.

Whorl Seventy

     Vespa Kareni’Tiv was waiting
for him when Kreceno’Tiv got home, sitting in the formal salon. He felt his elytra-pace
tighten with stress as soon as he entered the domicive.

     “Son,” she said, as he
approached her, hiding his reluctance. “I received a communication from your
Proctors at Secondus.” She did not have to ask outright what had happened, the
question was understood.

     Vespar-Drelano’Sev’Tiv
stepped into the salon by the other entrance, not coming in behind Kreceno’Tiv,
avoiding the ostensible gesture of caging him in, for which he was grateful.
The gesture meant that they were not yet completely put out and ready to
chastise him, that they were at least giving him a chance to explain. He did
so, leaving nothing out. His parents exchanged glances when he told of Gotra
Pelani’Dun’s mentioning Vespa Kareni’Tiv’s pedigree, but otherwise they just
gazed at him steadily as he told all the events that had led up to the near-fight,
and then the confrontation itself.

     “And – you resisted
answering the challenge?” his father clarified, obviously looking him up and
down and seeing no physiological changes due to challenge-rage. “The Proctors
did not have to un-induce you?”

     “Yes, Father – I mean,
that’s right, they didn’t,” he replied, wanting to nervously preen his
vuu’erio, but refraining. “I – I realized that that was what she wanted, for me
to seek her out so that I would be able to hold my own against the
mate-challenge. But then, I would be Geni’vhes to her again, or worse,
Geni’vhal, so I resisted. I didn’t know what else to do. She kept... kept
trying to get my attention, since the beginning of the term, kept after me.
When I did not return her interest again, she set Hytiro’Vel on me.”

     Again, a glance shared. Were
they passing glyphs that he could not detect? Kreceno’Tiv waited, his
elytra-pace clacking despite himself. What punishment would he receive, this
time? Never mind that he had not instigated the situation – breaking the
mating-accords was serious, and all involved were sure to be chastised.
Will
they ban me from seeing my friends, from seeing Ralili? Will they keep me from going
to Tertius?
Those were the only things left that was of value that they
could take away.

     “Go and put your study tools
away, Kreceno’Tiv,” Vespa Kareni’Tiv said, standing. Her face and voice gave
away nothing. “We’ve been summoned before the Secondus Magistrar, and we need
to leave immediately. You will have to repeat what you told us under truth-induction
glyph.” The underlying warning was that he had better have told the truth,
because he would not be able to lie to the Magistrars. And if his story to them
did not match his explanation to his parents, the consequences would be dire.

     He gestured assent and went
up to his suite to put his things down and change. Then he went back down and
silently followed his parents to their transport, and the glyph of it formed
around them, surrounding them with the construct. They rode in silence back to Secondus,
but to the administrative complex rather than the lecture sub-Hives. There,
Gotra Pelani’Dun’s parents were already standing in the spacious waiting area,
with Gotra Pelani’Dun behind them. Hytiro’Vel and his parents were seated
across the room. The other young male’s arms and shoulders were bandaged, where
the natural weapons for mate-challenge had recessed, once more dormant. When
Kreceno’Tiv and his parents arrived, the other two groups looked up, their
expressions unreadable. Kreceno’Tiv wanted to shiver at those cold gazes. Was
there a touch of  covetousness in Gotra Pelani’Dun’s father’s eyes? He did not
look at either group directly, but stared at the middle-distance before him,
his vuu’erio tucked away.

Whorl Seventy One

     The Magistrar came out of
her office, then, her Thynnu markings stark. She gestured tense welcome to
them.

     “I am Thynnu Fel, head of
Secondus. Please, all of you, come within so that we may begin this inquiry,”
she said, indicating the entryway behind her.

     Vespa Kareni’Tiv and
Vespar-Drelano’Sev’Tiv went first, and Kreceno’Tiv followed them. Then came
Gotra Pelani’Dun and her parents. Last was Hytiro’Vel and his parents. They all
sat at a large, round table, with several seats separating them. There were other
officiates seated there, also, among whom the Magistrar sat.

     “I am Magistrar Thynnu Fel,”
the Magistrar said again, looking around the table. She did not volunteer her
given name. “This is Counselor Vespa Dem, Counselor Pavtala Suv, Justicer Thynnur
Kem’Jat, Justicer Polista Lif, and Justicer Gotrar Sor’Dar. This unfortunate
event is quite serious, and we need to get all the perspectives of the event,
and punish those who are directly responsible. Breaking the mating-accords is a
grave offense – sending a young male into battle-fever is forbidden, and you
young people need to understand the significance of your actions.”

     Kreceno’Tiv shivered. He
already
knew
that breaking the accords was a serious offense – he had
researched it before leaving Secondus that turn, and what he had found had made
him feel sick. After the dominion, and occasional cruelty of the Malkia, the
Genii had all agreed that no woman would induce a man to battle to the death to
win her favor, among other things. Contravening this agreement could result in
having the woman’s ability to permanently mate taken away.

     He had also researched the
battle-scythes, and had found out that the structural physique to make the
natural offensive weapons was already present, as he had known, but they needed
the Genus-induction and repudiation of a woman to transform them.

     “Well,” Magistrar Fel said,
her face grim, “shall we begin? Does anyone want to claim responsibility for
instigating this situation? Remember, you are all under truth-glyph in this
chamber – you may tell what you
believe
to be the truth, but any
outright lie will be apparent.”

     Kreceno’Tiv felt a subtle
touch on his elytra-pace, from his mother. He sat forward, not wanting to go
first, but the touch was undeniable.

     “Gotra Pelani’Dun and I were
Geni’vhes for a term and a half, beginning our fourth term of Secondus” he
said, focusing on the table-top. “She ended it last term to pre-mate to
Hytiro’Vel.” Another subtle touch told him to stop, and let the officials mull
his words and their implications over.

     The Magistrar and those
around her turned their attention and vuu’erio tennae to him, and seemed to
expect more. But when he said nothing further, they turned to Gotra Pelani’Dun.

     “Gotra Pelani’Dun?” Fel
prompted.