The Farpool (36 page)

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Authors: Philip Bosshardt

Tags: #ocean, #scuba, #marine, #whales, #cetaceans, #whirlpool, #dolphins porpoises, #time travel wormhole underwater interstellar diving, #water spout vortex

BOOK: The Farpool
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Lektereenah seemed distracted by the
furious action of the
tuk
players. She waved her armfin and Kloosee took that for
permission to start the echopod.

There was an immediate hush in the
pavilion. The heavy blows of the
tuk
players could still be heard in the
distance, but the Metah’s court had fallen silent in order to
listen.

In the background, the shriek of the
Sound was clearly audible, though muffled, an ominous undertone to
the shouts and panic that were louder. Voices slipped in and out of
hearing, most of them hoarse, strained, worried. The anxiety and
the tension of the first hours of the Sound’s coming came through
clearly and both Kloosee and Longsee were secretly pleased when
they began to pulse those very same feelings in the servlings and
attendants around them.
Sympathetic
reaction
, Kloosee thought. Lektereenah showed no
emotion outward, but inside, she was boiling. She would never be
able to ignore something like this.

At last, the husky, hesitant voice of
Iltereedah won out. Lektereenah stilled her stomach to listen more
closely, as the Metah invoked the mercy of Shooki on the travelers
and then calmly authorized Longsee to speak for her in any
negotiations. She decreed Longsee and Kloosee both as
tekmetah
—arms of the Metah—and again
beseeched Shooki to show them safe passage. With that, Kloosee
switched the pod off and waited for the reaction.

There was a low murmur among the servlings,
quickly cut off by Lektereenah.

“The noise in the background, that is—“

“The Sound, Affectionate Metah,” Kloosee
interrupted, “the Sound of the wavemaker.”

Lektereenah ignored his boldness. “Iltereedah
speaks of an evacuation.”

Longsee spoke up. “That’s true, Metah. The
ancient city of Kok’t, in the south Ork’et sea, was evacuated to
the seamounts surrounding the valley. It was the only place sturdy
enough to withstand the waves.”

Lektereenah looked around at her court,
pulsing each one in turn. Their concern was plain enough. Her own
agitation was too violent for even Kloosee to pulse. She closed her
eyes wearily.

“I’m distressed to hear these
things.
Akloosh
is necessary,
it’s coming—we all know this—but I’d hoped it would
be…
kah
, Shooki will never
forgive me this weakness.”

Sensing victory, Longsee said, “We’ll
pay well, Metah, for fifty racks of your
tchin’ting
fiber. This is the best way to weaken
the Sound, with your fiber, woven into a great shield and placed
beneath the wavemaker. Iltereedah has explained all this.” He took
the holdpod and opened it again, this time pulling back the shell
completely, so that everyone could see the bags of pearls.
“In
potu
.”

Lektereenah’s eyes widened at the sight and
she drifted over to examine one of the bags herself. Longsee drew
the string for her and emptied the contents into her hands.
Lektereenah rolled some of the jewels between her fingers, then
held them up to the light. A prodsman nearby grabbed a skittish
glowfish and held it up by her hand.

“All we ask, Affectionate Metah, is the right
to negotiate with Ponkti weaving em’kels. As you can see, we’re
able to pay a fair price.”

Lektereenah scrutinized her visitors
carefully. “Fifty racks is a lot of fiber.”

“The shield must be large enough to
completely cover the wavemaker,” Kloosee told her. “The machine is
like a large metal island.”

Lekterenah was thoughtful. She avoided
Tulcheah’s pleading stare…
what do you want
me to do, Metah?
Lektereenah willed her insides to
calm down, unsuccessfully, Kloosee noticed. She was too vigorous
for that and he felt a sense of momentary kinship with her.
Keeping
Shoo’kel
was no
easier for her either.

“That much
tchinting
can be difficult to handle,” she said.
“Ponkti have been working it for ten thousand mah. Maybe you’d like
to hire some of our best weaving em’kels, instead of trading with
them.”

“I appreciate your generosity, Metah. With
your permission, that is one reason we made this journey.”

“Then you may go and seek them out.
I’ll dispatch someone from the court to supervise negotiations.
Prodsmen! Show our guests to the
emtoo
of Halkling. Understand me well: I give
permission for you to talk. Omtorish merchants have taken advantage
of Ponkti traders too often in the past. Final approval of any
exchange will be mine.”

“It is understood, Affectionate Metah,”
Longsee said.

“All of you are declared
tekmetah
, arms of the Metah, by
Iltereedah?”

“Yes, Metah.”

“Then act like it and show some
affection.”

Her rebuke startled them. Ponkti were nothing
if not direct. Longsee darted forward and placed a light kiss on
her flanks. Then he backed away but Lektereenah grabbed his armfin
and held on to it.

“If that is an example of Omtorish
refinement, then it’s clearly in the world’s best interest that
Omt’or be destroyed. In Ponk’et, we’re not afraid to show our
feelings.”

Longsee accepted the criticism with a
chastened pulse…and barely submerged irritation. His eyes found
Kloosee’s as he backed off.

After Kloosee had nuzzled her for a moment,
she straightened him up and pulsed him deeply.

“You’re different from the others, aren’t
you? I get an echo more refined than normal for Omtorish.”

“I’m half Orketish,” Kloosee admitted.

“And daring by nature, I would guess. Perhaps
we may talk of Omt’or and Ork’et sometime.”

“Metah, I would surely welcome the
prospect.”

Lektereenah studied Chase and Angie, hanging
in the rear of the entourage. “These two…they’re not Omtorish
either, I see. This is a costume?”

Kloosee said, “No, Metah, they’re guests.
They come from…a kel far away. Not of this world. They are related
to the Umans, Tailless people from their world. They came through
the Farpool…to help us.”

Lektereenah scooted over to Chase, circled
him completely and admitted her pulsing made her confused. “He
doesn’t pulse like Omtorish…these are coverings of some type?”

Kloosee explained the
em’took
procedure. “This was the
only way these Tailless people of the Notwater could survive on our
world. This one is Chase. That’s Angie, there. They came to help
us…help us deal with the Umans.”

“I see…what I pulse are echoes I can’t
explain. Confusion, perhaps. Anxiety…especially from that one—“ she
indicated Angie, “—a little indecision…things I don’t have words
for. These visitors…they are part of your expedition?”

“They are,” Longsee interjected. “It’s
a sort of exchange, with the
eekoti
…that’s what we call them. A cultural and
scientific exchange—“

Now Lektereenah addressed Chase
directly. “You do speak, don’t you,
eekoti
? What have you say about all
this?”

Chase didn’t know what to say. He
looked from Longsee to Kloosee to Tulcheah hovering in the
background.
Help me, guys.

“Your Majesty—“ he wasn’t sure of the
right honorific, “—we’re just guests. We just want to help out.
Kloosee and Pakma—she’s not here today—they came to Earth. That’s
our home. They asked for help. So we said we would help.” Chase
looked around at the assembled court, and the Omtorish
visitors.
How did I ever get into this?
Now, Turtle Key Surf and Board doesn’t seem so bad…boy, you wanted
to be a great explorer but this….

Lektereenah seemed satisfied for the moment.
“They seem harmless enough. If Iltereedah blessed this expedition,
then we Ponkti will treat them with respect. Their needs are the
same as yours?”

Longsee indicated that they were. “We
understand their needs. For some time now, we’ve been visiting
the
eekoti
world, conducting
this exchange. We’ve--“

Here, Lektereenah immediately interrupted.
“And such exchanges must involve more than just Omt’or. We know
about this Farpool. Ponk’et won’t be denied the use of this
resource. I have made that clear to Iltereedah…any help we give you
must be returned. We expect you to assist us in our own Farpool
expeditions when this wavemaker is neutralized.”

Longsee started to reply but thought better
of it. Lektereenah was already changing the subject again; she
flitted from one train of thought to another. Longsee found it
unnerving.

“I pulse that you’re still of appetite.
It must never be said that Lektereenah kim ignores
Ke’lee.
You have the right to demand
satisfaction of me…of any Ponkti.” She turned to the prodsmen who
had escorted them in. “See that they are fed properly. From the
Metah’s stocks.”

As they were leaving, Lektereenah gave
a stern look to Tulcheah, a look that couldn’t be ignored.
Come to me when they rest. We must
talk
. Tulcheah then disappeared with the rest of the
Omtorish. After they had left, Lektereenah turned to a nearby
servling. “What a story. I suppose the Omtorish have something in
mind they don’t want to reveal yet. Some plot, I suppose.
Kah
, they must think I pulse like a
blind woman.”

“But why would they send
travelers
tekmetah
to spy,
Metah?” asked the servling. “To be discovered would be terribly
embarrassing to any Metah. To be associated with something like
that—“

“Makes no sense,” Lektereenah finished for
her. “That’s what bothers me. My dealings with Iltereedah have been
sparse; I don’t know her as I should. That’s why Tulcheah is so
important…she’s my ears and eyes. She pulses for me…she’ll let us
know what’s really going on there.”

“Shall I let the affections resume?”

“No. Not just yet. There may be undercurrents
I don’t pulse accurately here. Bring me the echopod record of any
repeater transmission where Iltereedah’s voice appears.”

“Where shall I bring it, Metah?”

“To the tuk match. I want to visit
Loptoheen.”

Trailing an entourage of supplicants,
petitioners and admirers, Lektereenah left the pavilion and crossed
over to the canopy of the
tuk
match, which was still in progress. A path was cleared for
her and she slid into position just outside the screen.

Loptoheen tu was having a difficult
time of it. His opponent was younger and quicker but he didn’t have
Loptoheen’s strength or experience. The audience demanded not only
adroitness and agility, but also a proper adherence to the canons
of moves that were part of
tuk
. Loptoheen was a stylist as well as a
veteran; he knew what made excellence in the art. While Lektereenah
and the others looked on, he drew on all his reserves of
experience.

Tuk demanded intense concentration of its
artists. There were thousands of minutely choreographed moves in
each set, moves composed of complex patterns of thrusts and jabs,
counterpointed by feints, reversals and whip-like snaps of the
tail. The practitioner had not only to maintain position and
execute perfectly from memory all of these moves, but also to do so
in such a way as to prevent his opponent from performing his sets.
In an actual match, such efforts required speed and agility, for
only at certain designated points in the performance, between sets
and during some reversals, were preventive thrusts allowed. The
performer who reached those points first, could throw a punch or a
slash and interrupt the opponent who lagged behind. And the one who
finished first won.

Chase and Angie had prevailed on
Kloosee to let them come to the match. “I just want to see how the
locals live,” he insisted. Angie added, “It’s for my journal.”
Kloosee gave in and found that the prodsman assigned to guard them
was reluctant, but a few
potu
pearls eased his concern. Now, the three of them occupied a
crowded corner at the very back of the canopy. Their eyes widened
when the Metah herself showed up, surrounded by her
staff.

Chase was mesmerized by Loptoheen’s lightning
quick thrusts and moves. “I want to learn how to do that.”

“I don’t think the Ponkti will
let
eekoti
join in,” Kloosee
argued. “It wouldn’t be right…no
shoo’kel
.”

Chase was disappointed. “What is it
with this
shoo’kel
?
Everybody’s so concerned about appearances.”

Angie just rolled her eyes, then realized
that nobody could tell she had done it, looking like a lizard thing
the way she did. “That’s the way he is, Kloos. Always go, go, go. I
don’t know what to do with him.”

Kloosee watched Loptoheen and his
opponent advance through the formal
tuk
moves and thrusts, admiring their form.

Shoo’kel
is simply peace,
tranquility, inner calm. It’s something we all strive for…a kind of
perfection but we don’t often achieve it.”

Angie said, “Peace and inner calm…something
Chase doesn’t know a whole lot about.”

“Hey, I can be calm,” Chase retorted.

“Sure you can. Chase, they’ve got radar. Or
sonar or something. They can see right through each other. If
everybody was as messed up as you are, there’d be nothing but
confusion. It’d be like me reading your thoughts. Or you reading
mine.”

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