The Star Whorl (The Totality Cycles Book 1) (8 page)

     “So, was it your idea to
invite Polista Zyledi’Kil?” he asked as their transport worked its way to the
meeting place that they had chosen. “Or did Galici’Bel put it to you, playing
mate-match again?”

     “Seemed like the thing to
do,” Ro-Becilo’Ran moved his shoulders and clacked his elytra-pace. “She’s
obviously interested in you, but so tentative, and you’re still pre-mating shy
from what Gotra Pelani’Dun did to you – you two would have been dancing around
each other all term if someone hadn’t done something.”

     “It’s so nice to know you
have such regard for my welfare,” Kreceno’Tiv said sarcastically. “How about
letting me choose, next time?”

     “What goes, don’t you like
her?” Ro-Becilo’Ran raised his vuu-brows at him.

     “Oh, I like her, I just...”
he gestured reluctant assent. “I just don’t like being pushed into things.”

     “You’ll do fine,”
Ro-Becilo’Ran assured him, brushing his protests aside. “She’s really sweet,
from what I hear.”

     Kreceno’Tiv sighed and gave
up trying to dissuade his friend from trying to mate-match for him.

     They met up with the rest of
the group, and Polista Zyledi’Kil was there, looking around as if she were
lost. But when she saw him her face lit up like the Guhan Sun, and he felt
himself responding with a smile of his own and a warm feeling spreading through
his chest and limbs. The urge to take her into his arms was strong, but he
resisted – he was still reticent, after the traumatizing experience with Gotra
Pelani’Dun, to opening himself up completely to pre-mating. But when he came into
the sphere of her chemi-scent, he responded to it, for she directed it at him,
and his physique changed a little, and faint yellow and black markings appeared
on him.

     “Kreceno’Tiv,” she said,
moving close to him, then moving with him as they grouped together to walk to
the end of the line. “This is exciting!”

    
Is it? Not for long,
he
did not say, or project. He just smiled and invited her to walk close to him,
as close as she liked. In the crush she was soon pressed to his side, and he
courteously and gently maneuvered her in front of him, so that he could fend
off the more enthusiastic crowders. She looked up at him with utter trust and
faith, and allowed him to guide her through the throngs to the middle of their
group.

     “Ro-Becilo’Ran says you’ve
actually been in the
Bustani
once,” she said breathlessly, when they
were finally firmly ensconced in the line.

     “Once,” he answered. “My famiya
was able to obtain passage, and I took Becil along with us.”

     He regretted his words as
soon as he spoke them, for she looked up at him in awe, and he realized that it
bespoke the power and influence of his famiya to be able to get even a modest
sized group into the attraction, circumventing the line.

     “Tell me about what you saw,”
she breathed, turning to face him, and of course, in the mad press of the
crowd, that put her pressed tight to his body. His mind suddenly went blank,
and he had to struggle to recall what they had been talking about.

     “Oh ha, what we – uhm, saw
within the
Bustani,
” he said, trying to clear his head. “You know, Becil
describes it better...”

     “But I want to hear you tell
about it,” she said, placing her hands on his arms. “I like your voice, so
soft, yet – deep, like – like your eyes.”

     “Uhm...” his voice chose
that moment to squeak, and he cleared his throat. She giggled at him, but not
in a mean-spirited way.

     “That was so adorable!” she
cooed, leaning close, and any embarrassment he felt was subsumed by other
sensations. He felt a foolish smile spread across his face, and his wing-nets
hummed, to the amusement of the person unfortunate enough to be pressed at his
back.

     “What were we talking about
again?” he asked, wondering when the slowly dying light of the turn had gotten
so warm.

Whorl Twenty Four

     “You were going to tell me
about what you saw when you were in the
Bustani
before,” Polista
Zyledi’Kil said, dimpling at him.

     “Yes, the
Bustani...
”
trying to ignore the softness of her form against him, he dug back into his
memory for the experiences he had had in the attraction and made glyph-projections
of the reminiscence. “I remember... strange things from strange worlds,” he
said, looking down into her indigo eyes, so wide and limpid, as she gazed up at
him. “Beings that walked on six legs and on four, and sometimes more. Or none.
They all have different chambers, with lighting and gravity and atmosphere
reminiscent of their homeworlds.

     “From Allunil, there were
beings with fully chitinous bodies and functional wing-nets, that hummed in
harmony as they hovered...

     “From Selucia, there were
armor-plated creatures so massive that their habitat was recessed into the
ground, and they slammed their plated heads against solid walls, and made them
tremble...

     “From Gor-Wiltha, were
creatures of yellow seas, in large, tubular tanks, that swam in chorus and the
motion of their bodies made the tanks vibrate in song...”

     “From Tegnel, there were
bubble creatures that never once alighted on anything, they lived out their
lives floating between the ground and the sky...”

     He did not get through even a
fifth of what he remembered before his throat ran dry. He had actually garnered
something of an audience as he spoke about what he remembered seeing in the
Bustani
,
a pool of quiet spreading around him as more and more people stopped talking to
take in his voice and glyph-projections. He blinked and realized that he had
been talking for two and a half time-marks, as someone handed him a
glyph-conjured beverage.

     “Thank you,” he said to the
obliging individual, and then the pool of silence erupted into cheers and
compliments and not-so-subtle comments about impressing his new Geni’vhes.

     “That was amazing,” Polista
Zyledi’Kil breathed, gazing up at him with awe. “I’ve never – heard or seen
such... such vivid...” she trailed off, apparently unable to completely
articulate her feelings.

     Abashed, Kreceno’Tiv looked
around for Ro-Becilo’Ran. His friend was staring at him, apparently taken aback
by his powers of description.

     “So, a glyph-griot, too, are
you?” Ro-Becilo’Ran said, his voice sourly humored. “Did I mention that I
really can’t stand you, sometimes?”

     “You’ve mentioned it,” he
answered back, raising a sardonic vuu-brow.

     “Isn’t he amazing?” Polista
Zyledi’Kil gushed to Ropali Galici’Bel. She gestured agreement, smiling a
wickedly knowing smile up at him.

     “Oh ha, yes, Kreceno’Tiv is
quite the hidden treasure among us,” she said, flicking a vuu’erio at him.

     “Much thanks, Galici’Bel,”
he said sourly, half grimacing at her.

     “My pleasure, Kreceno’Tiv,”
she smiled brightly back.

     “Well, who’s ready to quit
this place?” Thy-Lerefo’Gol said, also giving Kreceno’Tiv a wondering look.

     There was a chorus of
agreement, and much to the consternation of the surrounding crowds, their group
began to work themselves clear of the line and the crush about them.

     “Who is the glyph-griot?” a
woman asked, her vuu’erio tennae waving at them.

     “His name is Kreceno’Tiv,”
Ro-Becilo’Ran obligingly told her, and Kreceno’Tiv would have happily rattled his
friend’s head down into his elytra-pace.

     “Well, come back soon,
glyph-griot Kreceno’Tiv,” the woman called to him. “That was some of the finest
damn descriptions I’ve heard in a while. And some of them might even have been
accurate!”

    
They were all accurate,
he thought as he smiled and gave her a small gestured acknowledgement and
gratitude, vowing never to open his mouth about the
Bustani
again.
I
couldn’t make that stuff up if I tried!

Whorl Twenty Five

     He shared a combined
transport construct with Polista Zyledi’Kil, escorting her to her domicive
before going on to his own. They had whiled away some of the dark-time at the
gregaris-park, and then she had regrettably said that she had to get home
before a certain time-mark. When he had offered to escort her, she had smiled
and gestured shy assent.

     As their transport crept through
the crush, for once he did not mind the painfully slow pace, as she sat close,
then moved closer, then let him put his arm around her. He thought about
kissing her, but held back – she seemed innocent, unknowing, as if she had
never been pre-mated before.

    
Has she been sheltered
all this time?
he wondered, as she leaned against him. She was trembling
slightly, her elytra-pace clamped tight.
If so, why have her parents allowed
her to socialize now?

     But when she leaned her head
against his shoulder and relaxed a little, he let the thought go and just
enjoyed her nearness.

     “You’re different than I
expected,” she said.

     “How’s that?” he asked,
smiling down at her.

     “I thought you would be
more...” she moved her shoulders a little, as if searching for the right word.
The glyph that hovered around the thought was clear, however.

     “Amorous?” he helped,
raising a vuu-brow. “Grabby?” She giggled nervously at that. “Where did you get
that idea?” he asked.

     She looked down, seeming
abashed. “Your pre-mating with Pelani’Dun. You were – so involved with her.”

     He tried not to stiffen,
drew an indignant breath. She seemed to know immediately that she had touched
on a sensitive subject, and was immediately contrite. “Oh, I’m so sorry! You
probably don’t want to – to talk about her.”

     “No,” he replied, trying not
to let the bitter feelings cloud the enjoyment of the dark-turn. His voice was
harder than he meant it to be.

     “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to
bring up bad memories,” she said again, hugging him. It was a sweet gesture,
and he found he was able to let the spiky feelings go. He smiled.

     “It’s all right,” he assured
her, much more gently. “I guess we were very involved with each other. Until
she decided she wanted someone else.”

     “She’s a vuu-dimmed idiot,
then,” she said vehemently. “And now she’s trying to get you back. But she
can’t have you.”

     “Oh?” he looked askance at
her.

     “Well, no,” she said,
matter-of-factly. But she did not elaborate. Instead, she changed the subject.
“What do you like to do for fun, besides stand outside the
Bustani?
”

     He made a noncommittal
gesture. “I skim the Spheres, reading discussion forums, things like that,” he
said, wondering if he should ask her to explain her comment. The transport was
finally free of the crush and was moving quickly now, descending a via-Way to
translate down to Segela Miridum.

     “Have you heard of the
Alighter Uniter?” she asked, breathlessly.

     Keeping his face impassive,
Kreceno’Tiv gestured assent. “I have.”

     “They are stirring up the
dataSpheres!” Polista Zyledi’Kil said, clacking her elytra-pace. “Whoever they
are, everyone is talking about the points the Alighter is bringing up! My
father thinks the Alighter is a trouble-maker, but I think we
should
be
asking about where the ones who have been silenced are, what happened to them!
What do you think?”

     “I think they bring up some
valid points,” he said. He did not want to say too much, lest he start sounding
like his Spheres persona. “Tell me what you think.”

     “I think there is more going
on than our leaders are telling us,” she said, seriously. “I think the autonomy
of the Solidarim, which is chosen based on Nil’Gu’ua ability rather than on
merit or popular consensus, is counter to the interests of the Totality at
large and Gu’Anin, in particular.”

     “The Gu’Anin Magistrate
Council is chosen by consensus,” he pointed out.

     “But they can be overruled
by the Solidarim, and there is no accountability,” she countered. “And I don’t
think Tertius is an adequate filter for morals, just ability. Who is to say
that because they have Sitan’Nil’Gu, sixth-level ability and above, that they
will use that ability responsibly? I think that there needs to be
accountability, oversight, and most of all, disclosure of policy-making
decisions and actions.”

     Kreceno’Tiv gestured assent
appreciatively, unsurprised. Polista Zyledi’Kil was one of the brightest of his
lecture-mates, generally having some of the highest marks on examinations and
evaluations. “You’re right. Have you posted your views to the Spheres?”

     She looked reticent. “No. My
parents don’t let me have that kind of access to the dataSphere interlinks.”

     That threw him. He had heard
of such sheltering, such introversion. But if her parents were that strict, why
the sudden willingness to let her join him at the
Bustani
?

     They neared her domicive, by
then, bringing a close to their time alone together.

     “I had such fun,” she said,
turning to him and leaning against him.

     “I did, too,” he said,
smiling. She tilted her face up to him, and he read the invitation clearly. He
cupped her heart-shaped face with his free hand, and her vuu’erio tennae
brushed the back of his hand, making him shiver. She did not protest when he
slipped both arms around her and drew her up to him. She seemed to melt against
him, in fact, her arms flowing up about his neck as he lowered his head and
brushed his lips over hers. She responded, her wing-nets humming in her
elytra-pace. He kissed her more deeply. Her lips were soft, full, and her mouth
hot and sweet as he gently tasted her. He savored her, softly tracing her form
with his hands. The intricacies of her glyph whispered to him, urging him to
know her better. But he only lightly touched it, just the barest caress, and
she shuddered under it. Then she reluctantly pulled away.