FSF, March-April 2010 (33 page)

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Rand Lee's previous stories of the D'/fy (or D'/fü as they're termed in this story) include “Coming of Age Day” (Dec. 2003) and “Picnic on Pentecost” (Sept. 2008). This new one, in addition to containing some of the most daring linguistic gymnastics ever attempted in our pages, introduces us to the charming character of Pink. Mr. Lee notes that this story is dedicated to Ms. Taylor Rhodes Jones, “Polymath elf-stork and adventurer."

Gather ‘round,
te'ném
, gather ‘round. Vlíbit, you are treading on your sib's tail. Now, now, Swúkilip, don't weep; there! One tail, as good as new! Áñadhu, what is that you have in your mouth? Come here; spit it out; let me see. Don't pretend you can't understand me; you speak better Brenglish than anyone here but Pwémmad. Aha! I see. You've been raiding the mineral stores again, haven't you? After class we're going to march right up to Mrizh Klévyamwel's and you're going to give it right back. Yes, I am well aware that diamonds are common but that is not the point; it's the principle of the thing. Oh, yes you are. Well of course that is your choice. But if you refuse to return the diamond you stole, you will not be permitted to experience today's story time with the rest of your
tek
. All right, then. You are forgiven. Yes, of course, Yútha. [Group snuggle ensues.]

Everyone consoled now? Vlíbit? Swúkilip? Áñadhu? Blopéllüz? Yútha? Pwémmad? Very well, let's begin. We will proceed, as we have begun, in Brenglish. Sorry? Yes, Pwémmad, there will be other languages, too, in our story. [Note to self: We may have a budding
zhüdhvu
here in Pwémmi; let Borm know.]

All right, class; everyone relax, now, into the lovely, lovely dream-bath. How lovely the dream-bath feels rising about our toes, and tails, and knees, and haunches, and tummies, and—yes, Áñadhu, that's quite right, I have no tail; but then I'm not
lílyo
, am I? After all, I am Human, not of your species, the Damánakíppith/fü. Yes, Yútha, despite this, we are all Family here, including myself; after all, different species may still be Family, may they not? No, that's all right; no need to apologize for an honest observation. Where was I? Ah, yes.

This is a story about a very young Human named Juliana “Pink” Sévigny, who lived in an experimental interspecies space community, a space station that your species called Óllowe/Dvyénnu, the New Place, and that my species called Concord Station. Where was Concord Station, Blópi? Well, it was located roughly halfway between the Human home star-system of Sol and that of Dám/Hihívo, the star ‘round which our great friend Ámash/Bórmwu, your ancestral Shiphome, circled at that time. Yes, Blópi; Humans have a name for Shiphome's star, too; two names in fact: Rigel Kent or Alpha Centauri A. It is a very beautiful star, one of three which circle one another, in fact: Dám/Hihívo, Dám/Fnikkírh, and Dám/Bnéthu. I very much hope you will see them someday very soon.

You have gathered, I expect, that our story takes place rather long ago, before Ámash/Bórmwu migrated to the Sol system, where co is now. Oh, no, Vlíbit. No, it took many years, nearly a hundred and twenty Earth-years, in fact, for your
fü
to convince my
fü
to let Shiphome move to Sol. Why did it take so long? The answer to that question is rather complicated, I'm afraid, but I suppose, put simply, it is that we Humans were afraid of you D'/fü. I know, I know; it was very very silly of us Humans, but we did not know your
fü
so well back then, and we assumed that you would kill us or eat us or make us work for you. Why did Humans fear this, Pwémmi? Because Humans tend to have a sickness called fear-of-anything-different—the Brenglish word for it is xenophobia—and in the very old days, when some of us met other Humans, we would kill them or eat them or make them work for us. So some of us could not imagine that your
fü
would not do the same to us if you got the chance.

Attributing to others feelings we have ourselves is called projection, and it is a habit that has gotten many Humans in a lot of trouble over the millennia, let me tell you.

But let us get back to Pink. Yes, Pwémmi, “pink” is the name of a color in Brenglish, red with white mixed into it. Was Pink pink? Well, as with most Humans, her skin would turn pink when she was sunburnt or excited or embarrassed, but no, that is not why she was called that. She was called that because of the color of her hair, which was very orange. What is “orange,” Yútha? Orange is red with yellow mixed into it. You're quite right, Blópi; calling someone Pink because her hair is orange makes no sense whatsoever, but that is how it is sometimes with language; words get thrown against one another until they begin to take on shades of meaning they wouldn't otherwise have. Suffice it to say that “Pink” is often a love-name for Humans with orange hair, which, to confuse matters even more, is usually called in Brenglish “red” hair. Perhaps it is because orange-haired Humans often sunburn easily; I don't know.

How young was Pink, do you ask, Swúki? Well, we'll cover that in the story, but for now let's just say that Pink was the Human equivalent of
lílyo'te
, just like all of you. That's right, just like you, although of course, Áñadhu, being Human, she had no tail.

Oh, come, come, Vlíbit, you know very well what the word “she” means; no, Pwémmi, let Vlíbit answer. That's right, Vlíbit; good for you. “She” refers to the type of Human who under normal conditions keeps cos seed inside co, in contrast to the “he” type of Human who is capable of ejecting cos seed from cos body. Why do hes eject their seed, Swúki? For fun, I suppose, and sometimes to combine their seed with the seed of a she inside the she's body, so that together the combined seeds can begin forming a new Human.

No, hes don't eject their seed all the time, Vlíbit; well, most of them don't, anyhow. No, there will be no seed-ejection in this story. In any case, class, this will all be much easier to understand when we've let the dream-bath take us there to experience it directly.

Where was I? Ah, yes.

This is the story of how Pink traveled with her Work Partner Orientation Class from Concord Station to Shiphome (an historic occasion); got lost in the Tangles (an extremely easy thing to do, as you can imagine); met her new D'/fü workpartner, who nearly decapitated her with cos tail (a very near thing indeed); and encountered the Vigilant Bird, who ate her. The End.

Everyone ready for our dream-journey? Remember, we will be experiencing Pink's story from her Human point of view, which will be a little mixed up by her adventures in the Tangles; so don't worry if you don't understand everything straightaway—we'll have lots of time afterwards to talk all about it. Ready? All right, then, class, on my count, submerge yourselves in the dream-bath completely. Here we go!
Vóh'te, hwépp'te, gdéss'te!
Submerge! Let the dream-journey begin!

"How very exciting,” says Sister Skylark, after it is all over, patting Pink's hand in a sympathetic manner. “And how very dull life will seem now that you are back home. What is your Firster partner like?"

"Big,” says Pink. “Very, very big.” They are sitting on the bridge of the fictional starship
Beatific Vision,
with all the fictional crew standing ‘round: Brother Róbberámmerdoc, the Hammerhead Man, Vision's weapons specialist, all muscle and armor plate; Sacred Sib Flénya'rényarah, communications specialist, with hisher writhing head of sensor tentacles for hair; Tubular Russia Dog, the cyborg atheist science officer (handsomely scarred, half-man, half-machine, all poet—a dreadful tale); and Sister Alexandra, the chief navigator, who is so hideous (or so blindingly, maddeningly beautiful) that, according to the rules of the Order to which the crew belongs, she can never permit herself to be seen as other than a head-to-foot-enrobed blur. There is also Meep, zizzing around somewhere. They are all the same person, really—the AI of Concord Station, the space station where Pink and her mother have been living for nearly three years—but they have been Pink's favorite VR scenario since she was a toddler and she sees no reason to change this now just because she is sixteen. “Big,” Pink adds loyally, “but really sweet. Co tries really, really hard not to knock into things and break them. And co's really polite."

Sister Alexandra says, “Doessss thissss one possessss a name?"

"Slídhadhrup,” says Pink. “Slídhadhrup/Jéjno'Lílyo/fü.” [She pronounces it SLEETHE-ah-throop-JAYJ-noe?-LEEL-yoe-fü?, with a rising tone in each syllable following a “/"; the “th” voiced like the “th” in “soothe"; and the “ü” in
fü
like the “u” in French “tu” or the “y” in Danish “Holeby” or the ü in German “hübsch.” To pronounce the “ü” in
fü
, set your mouth to say a nice long “oo,” then, while you are blowing out the air to say “oo,” and without moving your lips from the “oo” position, change the inside of your mouth to try to say “ee” instead. Or just give up and pronounce it “foo,” to the scorn of all French and German persons—Danes will be far too polite to laugh at you.]

Brother Róbberámmerdoc barks a laugh. “Slither-droop,” he says, and they all laugh, then, even Sister Skylark, though she immediately apologizes for it.

"You will not be going alone, of course,” says Pink's parent. They are sitting at the breakfast table in their shared apt in the Human Habitat Area on Concord Station's Fourth Ring. Pink's parent is Doctor Andrea Sévigny, the Station's Chief Exozoologist, which is someone who studies animals from planets other than Earth. “The entire Orientation Class will be taking the trip, chaperoned by Doctor Ziomek and Mrizh Borm."

"Placid,” says Pink.

"Please, Juliana; no slang at the breakfast table.” The Orientation Class is composed of new Human Station staff who have not yet been assigned D'/fü work-partners. Pink is by far the youngest, by a good twelve Earth-years; and she is also the most experienced with Station life, the first Human subadult (as she then was) ever to join the Station staff. In the past, Shiphome has assigned D'/fü crew to their Station counterparts. But recently Shiphome's presiding
te'ürye
—whom, as Pink knows, are Damánakíppith/fü in their seventh, final (and from the Human viewpoint, weirdest) morphological cycle—have made an unexpected announcement. They have decided to invite this latest shipment of Humans to come to Shiphome, mingle with its inhabitants under controlled conditions, and see what pairings develop. Thus the class trip, the first of its kind.

"After all,” says Doctor Sévigny, “if the United Nations ever lets the D'/fü settle on Earth, that is how relationships among the races will form naturally. And even if this trip does not affect the outcome of all that, it is significant in its own right. Shiphome has not permitted Humans such intimate access to coself since this station was completed in 2178. That was six years before you were born,
ma petite
.” She smiles fondly at her daughter and takes another piece of toast from the toast-rack.

"Will you be coming with me,
maman
?” Pink asks.

"
Non
, you are a big girl, and I have my work here to do.” Pink's heart leaps. “As we have discussed, the Shiphome population in which you will find your partner will be the
lilyo'te
; and your partner, whoever co ends up being, will be the very first
lílyo
ever permitted aboard this facility. You have studied
lilyó'te
in Orientation, one presumes."

Pink nods rapidly, and her voice assumes a professorial tone. “They're Family in their first morphological cycle. That's why we call them Firsters. They stand, on average, three meters tall; have big tails that fall off when they get older, but no manes or wings, not yet. They also have the mass of a small commuter transport and can benchpress a quarter ton.”
And they have nothing whatsoever between their legs besides sematophores,
she thinks, but does not say. As recently as a year before she chattered on artlessly about the luridly hued D'/fü scent glands, and even engaged in crotch- and neck-sniffing with the friendly D'/fü around the station. But now that she is sixteen, and having her menses (which came so late the Station physicians were very worried), she is finding it difficult to speak of such matters to anyone but Sister Skylark, and she no longer leaps into Borm's arms for nuzzle-wrestling.

It was her menses that made Pink realize how alone she was on Station. This upset her greatly, for when she first arrived with her mother, in 2195, she thought she had died and gone to Heaven. For the first time in her life she found herself surrounded by incredibly interesting and friendly people who were interested in her not because she was a clone but because she was young, and smart, and funny, and endearingly freckled, and brave, and Human; and she made friends instantly, particularly with Borm; the Station AI (in cos Sister Skylark persona); and Nandi's father, Alan “Andy” Ziomek, Crew Relations Facilitator, the oldest Human on the Station, everybody's unofficial grandpa, and the only Human on Station besides Pink to lack a workpartner.

She soon discovered that loneliness is an emotion nearly foreign to the D'/fü. Very early on, following their emergence from their Shiphome crêches, Firsters group (or are moved to group by forces at the time of our story still improperly understood by Human biologists, psychologists, and ethnologists) into
ték'te—
sextets—that is, groups of six; and, barring accident, all the individuals in a given
tek
mature together from morphological stage to morphological stage.

Changes from one stage to another can be very dramatic even by D'/fü standards. Powers come and go; organs grow and are discarded; size gradually diminishes (though mass does not). Second Cyclers (
dyéñe'te
) or Seconders are randy, winged, haloed, supercurious shapechangers mad to touch, smell, lick, probe, rub, and mess with anything and everybody that takes their fancies. With discipline, however, they can make good peacekeepers, like Chiriósso, the centaur half of the Orientation Class's Security escort. Third Cyclers (
nuplásta'te
) or Thirders are supercreative empaths integrating and expanding upon memories and skills from prior embodiments. Many of the D'/fü counselors, artists, musicians, craftspersons, and techies on Station are Thirders. So was Borm when Pink first met co.