"Although our knowledge of the origin of the Aui Ta is lacking, it may be surmised by what we know of their early dealings: They specialized in the trade of surplus, scavenged even, technology from the old Twenty-Sixth Nome (and the other numerous holdings and allies of House Khira)-- ships, Meh large and small, and weapons, both during and after the Family Wars. And through this function they were instrumental in the dissemination of technology, the bringing down of prices that put those things in the hands of more common people and breaking the monopoly of the large governmental agencies. However, when one takes into account the types of weapons used by House Khira, it can be easier to see why the Aui Ta ended up dealing with the kinds of goods that they later became infamous for."
Khety Pa'ath Yi, "The Aui Ta in Limelight and Hindsight", Renpit 7206 En Sa'n Pera
The noise outside of the rock walls of her families' home was lost to Temt as she sat on a window ledge with her arms wrapped around her knees, her chin in the cleft created where they touched. She'd been starring at one spot in the wall long enough for it to stay visible when she'd blink her reddened eyes or when she turned her head, shifting uncomfortably. Is this what it was supposed to feel like? she thought, sounding pathetic even in her mind's ear. A small group of children ran quickly past her window, their laughter anathema to her ears: the dim lighting outside beginning to lighten somewhat with the chemical glare of the descending ship out past the outer edge of the village. I'll bet I know where he is.
Temt straightened her back, popping it uncomfortably as her legs lowered out of the little window-ledge alcove and tentatively sat their feet upon the floor, the whole leg-foot assembly shaking somewhat. Her hand against the wall as she stood for support, Temt started walking with delicate steps toward the large bowl of water on it's stand against the far wall. Normally she'd drink beer, but it had been disagreeing with her stomach since the morning, since the last time she'd seen Ha'as:
"My Uncle is coming in today:" he'd barely been able to contain the excitement in his voice that grew as he talked, like the growing sound of thunder. "My Uncle, the pilot," he'd reemphasized, as if there was any doubt. She'd only stared blankly at him as her stomach started to knot just a bit, which in his smugness-- does he even know that he acts like such an ass?-- he interpreted as ignorance.
"My Uncle, who has a ship, who told me the last time that he was here that he'd take me with him when I was old enough to leave," Ha'as had infuriatingly explained to her, totally unnecessary.
"I'm not a fool, Ha'as." Deep breath, shudder, then: "Or perhaps I am. So what does that mean, now? You're going to leave, just like that?" The stomach pain had began acutely just then and had not left as she started to feel something wrong, but she took care to hide this from him.
He looked at her, blinking, confused: He cannot possibly be that dense, Temt thought with a feeling as if she was somehow unraveling, a falling ball of yarn. "I thought…" she began, a sour taste on the back of her tongue, while Ha'as' face seemed to progress through confusion, to acceptance, to something like humor, a bare smile coming to his mouth but not an obvious one: He's trying not to laugh at me! "Ha'as, what… I mean…."
"Um…" Ha'as bit his lower lip, looking for words and finding them. "Look, Temt, you should know what this means to me. I get to go," as he pointed vaguely upwards, her insides going the other way. Am I this stupid? "You know that this is all that I've ever wanted. I've been waiting for this-" he could hardly contain his excitement: she felt quite the opposite.
"You know what all I ever wanted was?" Temt fired back sarcastically at him, pointing a blunt, callused finger at him. "You!" she screamed, with Ha'as looking behind him with wide eyes to see if anyone heard that yell: this could still be passed off as a casual visit. But Temt was not finished. "You with your dreams! What exactly is it that you're dreaming now, eh? What's out there?"
Placatingly, Ha'as raised his hands, palms outward: "Temt- before any of this you knew what my plans for the future were." Plans? "They-" but she cut him off.
"Your plans?" she was still loud, but she didn't feel like screaming anymore. Positively nauseated, she'd let the pointed finger drop, two steps to him to grab with it onto his collar. Don't want to act like this, can't help it… "I thought that we had plans," her emphasis on 'we' strong and louder, but the rest of her tone conversational. Just in the corner of one eye, the hint of a tear approaching. Ha'as tried to step backwards and away but she had him cornered against a table and a wall just beside the doorway lintel. "What was it that made me think like that?" Draw him out, he can't really be doing this…
Ha'as raised his hands to remove her limp palm from his collar, but Temt brought her other hand up on top of his and he felt her cold palm, slightly moist as were her eyes. He started to say something, but she wasn't finished as she looked up at him. She would of swayed a little, but it was masked by leaning against Ha'as. "I never wanted to crush your dreams, Ha'as. Am I not as good as they are? I'm right here," as she clutched against him. "There on the top of that mountain-"
"Plateau…" Ha'as blurted out, neck craned back as if to avoid her as near as she was.
First little heave of real nausea, but Temt continued, "You're so smart, with your plateaus and your ships and ideas," a little bitterness there. "What's so wrong with being here, with me? I'm good enough to screw but not good enough to stay, is that it?" a real rancor from her, but still a conversational tone, a friendly visit.
Ha'as blinked several times rapidly, that characteristic gesture of his, one of the many that so endeared him to Temt, mumbling, trying to say something, anything, tripping over his own tongue with an "Um… Ak…" This is just about the last place that I really want to be right about now, Ha'as thought wordlessly, an almost panic making his eyes shift about to find a way past her.
"I'm right here," Temt pleaded unintentionally, trying to stay strong, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing, looking at nothing, about chest level for him. "You already have me, you've had me since the beginning, more than once now." A few real tears started. "Was that nothing to you there, up on top of your plateau?" she sneered that last word, making an uncomfortable eye contact, swallowing a painful swallow. Is this what it feels like when your heart breaks? "Or in your bed, or in the stream? You've something real here," don't be too forceful, don't let him go away, while he's here there's a chance…
Ha'as examined her face- the careful lines of makeup streaked by tears, the eyes unusually sunken, creases around the mouth (she's quite a good kiss, but not to think about that!)- and felt a slight tinge of something unpleasant. I made her feel like this… it was conscience, regret, and it surprised him with a real chill that traveled down his spine, the hair standing up on his forearms. "Temt… I… I don't know what to tell you…"
Ha'as had never felt this before: picked on as a child for being scrawny, sheltered by his widowed mother and older uncle, he'd devoured what few books were in the village and the stories of the elderly. When his uncle had somehow managed to convince both the Kememet and the circuit priest to let him leave and after Ha'as' years of taking care of her increasingly frail mother-- totally dependent on him-- he'd been alone in the old stone house. Shortly thereafter, puberty ended his awkward skinniness and small stature and gained him the respect of his peers. He never stopped listening, dreaming about a life not of planet bound toil (he'd even heard that his native planet was nearly a half again standard gravity, whatever that was) but a life in space. This was merely preparation, he'd convinced himself: life here was nothing to get used to. It's why he avoided the company of others despite being well-regarded by the other villagers, avoided taking a wife despite being the only nineteen-year old or older unmarried. His stone home, the fields attached to it were his responsibility, and although owned by the village (which was owned by the provincial government owned by the continental authority owned by the planetary governor owned by the Nomarchy owned by 'He of Five Names' on distant, nearly legendary Ma'at) he could relinquish his title to it and therefore his stake in the village and leave-- but only if he could show that he had no dependents or liens on the property.
Stumbling over his word choice, Ha'as told her, "If I stay with you I can never leave… It's all I've ever wanted, I've lived to go…"
And with that Temt had let go of him. Her lower lip quivering a bit, his eyes starting to mist over: "I'm so sorry, Temt, so sorry that any of this happened, sorry for you…" he reached out his hands to embrace her but she took a quick step back, lip no longer quivering but firmly set.
Coldly, level: "Don't you touch me, Ha'as." She took a step back, another, half turned away to lean against another wall so he wouldn't see her shake. "Sorry. You're sorry for what? Fucking a girl the night before you leave her forever?" Bitter bile, she tasted it but didn't care. A pained look in his face this time, but she didn't give a damn. Looking up at Ha'as, who seemed to be trying to say something, she cut him off preemptively, satisfied to see tears welling up from him as she stabbed away her own. "Get out and take your 'sorry' with you." The nausea was almost overwhelming her, but he was still just standing there.
"Didn't you hear me? I told you to fucking GET OUT!" she screamed, erupting off the wall at him and swinging the still-bandaged fist at him, very blackly satisfied to see him stumble back and fall out the door of her parent's home into the dust outside, laughter from the people out there. But that satisfaction was short-lived- the nauseating heartbreak enough to make her run to the rear door of the sturdy stone home and vomit all over a freshly tilled patio.
Now it was the afternoon: Temts' last afternoon with Ha'as and without him, a tired anniversary only slightly over forty hours old. There was a part of her, a very tired and pathetic part, that wanted to go run out to the small transit pad out past the edge of the village where the ships came in-- when they did-- and just grab that idiot and kiss him until he relinquished his childish dreams of 'leaving'. Another more sensible, yet just as tired, part told her that those dreams were no longer childish of Ha'as; in fact they were extremely close to fruition.
The greatest part, however, was a very sick and tired part, a part that demanded that she go to lay down. She drew herself a cup of the tepid water in the bowl before her, looked around for a bit of wine to make it go down easier but there was none to be had. Unsteady on her feet, the water burning it's way down her throat, Temt hobbled to her pallet on the floor and collapsed on it. She heard a rushing sound in her ears but couldn't tell if it was all in her head. She was too tired to cry herself to sleep.
Is this what it feels like to break your heart? she thought, steeling herself to face Ha'as again in the evening for better or worse, just to try one more time.
The noise pierced the fresh evening air like a needle: thin and high-pitched, sounding like the noise of palms being rubbed together and amplified a thousand times. Many villagers stood about the designated landing area as if it was a festival, but more didn't attend. Landings weren't quite common, but they generally created little excitement or spectacle.
Ha'as stood by himself, out of the main throng, feeling apprehensive. There was an excitement that he felt, of that there could be no doubt, but it was being impaired by thoughts of Temt. I never intended for this to happen, Ha'as thought as he watched the speck of light descend and begin to take on shape in the dimming light of evening. She pushed herself on me, not the other way around. I don't owe her anything, he tried to rationalize. Ha'as had tried many arguments with himself since being shoved out of Temt's families' house to rationalize what he could only see as a bad situation. None of them were working.
A sudden gust of wind blew up dust from the hills around the landing area, swirling and spattering about. As Ha'as turned his face and winced his eyes to protect them he saw Temt approaching the landing area, wearing a thick robe and a drained expression. She didn't seem to be looking for him, or anything else, and leaned tiredly against a rock, sinking down into the robe as if it was a cave. Ha'as started to stand, half-turning towards her, but stopped in half-rise: What can I say? he thought. As Ha'as watched, Imet slowly walked over to Temt, carrying a large jar of beer. Unusually, he was also wearing a thick robe. It's evening cool, but it isn't cold, Ha'as thought as he regarded the pair, with Imet standing beside Temt and wrapping his arm around her shoulders, offering her the jar of beer.
Ha'as narrowed his eyes a little more, watching Imet and Temt speak to each other. They're quite friendly, Ha'as thought, as Temt took a drink of the beer- wincing as it went down- and Imet did the same, also wincing. Suddenly Ha'as thought that he had the answer: They're both sick! I wonder exactly how that occurred. I think that more people here would be ill if there was something going around, Ha'as thought with a growing satisfaction, looking about at the crowd: indeed, everyone there seemed to be in good health, and good spirits, drinking non-watered down beer and carousing. Perhaps Temt simply didn't like the idea of marrying the village vet…
The crowd gasped, and Ha'as turned his attention skyward: two shimmering dots had de-attached themselves from the descending ship and were landing rapidly, much moreso than the presumably larger ship of my uncle's, Ha'as thought. It was only a matter of seconds before the two, in near synchronicity, suddenly spread their landing flaps and had their descent abruptly slowed, resembling great rounded triangles with holes in their apexes that opened and closed automatically as they fell to maintain a level attitude. They were an indigo and black color, with burnt edges and clean, crisp lines, and settled silently to the rough, compacted soil of the landing area. Those must be Sau'ii en Ma'at! thought Ha'as excitedly. He'd heard tales of the strange, armored guardians who had been an instrumental faction in the closing of the "Wars" that he knew little about. But he'd never actually seen one.
The landing flaps retraced with a swish- reducing the size of the ships by at least three quarters- and doors opened, discharging six armor-encased Sau'ii en Ma'at, who formed up around the landed ships as another figure, this one unarmored, stepped out of the door and looked about the landing area, as if looking for someone. Ha'as excitedly stepped forward, the sound of the descending ship above them .
The local Kememet stepped forward to engage the visitor, who was looking around at the crowded landing area. Ha'as' heart jumped as the two of them turned to face him, the visitor nodding rapidly and the Kememet shaking his head slowly. Ha'as stepped forward as the visitor also did, the two meeting roughly in the center of the landing area as the immense Pod Hauler settled to the ground outside the landing area, a creaking, shuddering mass of engine and pod that almost seemed to sag under it's own weight. As it was, the thing sank into the ground half a cubit. Ha'as could see the only hatch in the small pilots' area, where his uncle should be appearing any time now.
"You're Ha'as, then?" the visitor asked in an official voice, an otherworldly accent to it. He was holding out a clipboard to Ha'as.
"I am… I am!" Ha'as exclaimed the second time, the first one being horse and gravely. He looked up at the Pod Hauler, sitting there blocking out the setting evening sun. Ha'as strained his eyes to see his uncle, who should be coming out of the 'Hauler any time now. Torches were being lit behind him at an already blazing bonfire, the people dancing and feasting: there were so few disruptions to the humdrum daily life that any excuses to have a feast were enthusiastically taken.
"Sign here and here and here," the visitor said in his quavering, off-world accent. Ha'as didn't know how to write, but he had been instructed, like most people, how to make the few glyphs that spelt his name and he did so, looking about in curiosity for his uncle.
"Where is the pilot of this ship?" he asked the visitor as he signed, who looked back at him quizzically.
"There is no pilot." The visitor gathered his clipboard back up and handed Ha'as a metal plaque. "This owner of this ship legally disappeared last week, and you are the listed heir. Enjoy," he said in all businesslike tones as he turned and started back towards the Sau'ii en Ma'at landing craft.
"Wait," Ha'as shouted, striding forward and turning the visitor around by the shoulder. "What do you mean, 'legally disappeared'? My uncle was supposed to be here today to take me with him. What am I supposed to do with that thing?" He was practically shouting, motioning towards the huge bulky 'Hauler that at that moment made a particularly loud, groaning sound as it settled on the ground. He leaned forward, said confidentially, "I'm not sure that I can fly it by myself…"
The visitor regarded Ha'as cooly, then brought forth another clipboard. "If you don't want the ship, we can possess it. If you're not qualified to pilot it, you don't need to have it. You have flown before, haven't you?" The visitor narrowed his eyes, proffering the clipboard to Ha'as.
Ha'as took an abrupt half-step back. "No, no, of course not. I can fly, no problem…" He heard a cough behind him, oddly strident in the sounds of revelry. Half looking back, he could see that Temt had come forward from the crowd and was standing nearby. Taking all of the confidence that he could build, Ha'as: "I can fly that with no problems. I was just wondering where my uncle was, that's all."
The visitor took back the clipboard. "If the previous owner of that little ship there was your uncle, you should know that his legal disappearance is equivalent to his legal death. The meh was thoroughly searched by trained investigators. It was determined that he must have met an accidental death somehow, and that verdict was verified by his history of health issues. Congratulations." the visitor pulled away and re-boarded the landing craft. Within moments the two had begun to rise, and were soon but memories.
KFL by Allen P Gresham is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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