The V'Dan (24 page)

(
You tell her,
) Jackie agreed, snuggling into the warmth and faint musk of his chest. (
You tell ’er . . . we’re not stupid kids . . .
)

(
You’re putting
me
to sleep, with your sleepiness,
) he warned her.

(
Too bad. Comf’t’ble.
)

“I am feeling tired as well, Mother . . . Perhaps it would be better to discuss this later,
after
you’ve read their report?” she heard him add pointedly. “That way, neither of us wastes your time in reviewing redundant information.”

The Empress said something, but it was all nonsense now to Jackie’s fever-tired mind.

MAY 14, 2287 C.E.

JANVA 8, 9508 V.D.S.

Jackie eyed the three-lobed, reddish, pear-like fruit in her hand. Their combined food-and-medical crisis had started with one of these, and now she had the privilege of finally being able to taste one. Just as she brought it up to her lips, Dr. Kuna’mi came over with a tray of her own food—the kitchen was finally producing full meals for nearly everyone—and projected a thought her way.

(
Careful,
) the odd, markless woman stated, smiling at Jackie. (
That might taste good.
)

Jackie hesitated only a moment before biting into the rind, which was supposed to be edible. That, and a source of histamines. It was tangy, sweet, and slightly bitter, with a perfume reminiscent of mint and pears and a hint of lemon, but mostly pears. (
The V’Dan name for this translates as “red pear,” doesn’t it?
)

Shrugging subtly, To-mi picked up her
umma
, poking the local-style spork into her casserole dish. (
So I didn’t have
that
much of an imagination. Its full original name was
ka-rousho’p’ari
, which means three-lobed-red-skinned-pear. Calling it a
roush-p’ari
just took out two syllables.
)

The two ate in silence a few minutes until Jackie set down the uneaten core. The seedpods were long, triangular things, almost shaped like canoes, and she had been warned in her language transfer not to eat them. In the V’Dan language, they were called
v’pou-da shova
, or the
seeds of explosive expelling
.
Not in the sense of inducing vomiting, but rather, it involved the opposite end of things. By comparison, Terran pear seeds were downright harmless.

Her mind wasn’t fully on the inedible portion of the fruit, however. It was on a random thought. (
Why seven days?
)

(
Clarify?
) To-mi sent back.

(
I know why on Earth; the Moon’s quarters can be broken up into approximately seven-day spans. I know the innermost moon here has a roughly one-month cycle, but . . .
)

(
The moons are only a small portion of the reason why. It’s because of the Pleiades. They’re often called the Seven Sisters, or Seven Puppies, or Seven Little Boys . . . lots of myths, but not really for that reason, either. The disaster happened when the Pleiades were high in the sky. Everyone on Earth remembered it as a Day of the Dead, the Day of the Flood, the Day We Were Saved from Our Doom . . . and the V’Dan remember it as the Day of the D’aspra, the Day of Salvation, the Day of New Life.

(
Except the V’Dan don’t have the same viewpoint of the actual Pleiades star cluster here that we had back home, nor do they have any knowledge of the “modern” legends from the last five millennia on Earth,
) To-mi added. She nibbled on a piece of herbed bread slathered in V’Dan butter, made from cattle that had evolved on V’Dan after having been treated with a bovine-friendly version of the
jungen
virus so that they, too, could feast on the local plant life without problems. (
There are legends of the Seven Saints, however, overseers for the various sections involved in the d’aspra.
)

(
Well, we are coming up on a V’Dan weekend equivalent. In two more days, we finish packing up and head down to the embassy and suites reserved for us; in three, we settle in . . . and on day four, the equivalent of a Tuesday, we get presented to the Empress.
)

(
I heard from my colleague, who lurked outside your infirmary room, that you gave Her Eternity a bit of a shocking setback, talking to her like a peer.
)

Jackie looked over at the blue-eyed woman with features that were more Asian than Caucasian. She wasn’t about to back down from what she saw as the truth. (
 . . . And?
)

To-mi smiled at that. Her face radiated warmth, approval,
and a hint of mischief that might not have been amiss on one of the
kupua
, the heroic tricksters of Hawai’ian legends. (
I’m not shocked. I do understand the Terran mind-set these days. I am wondering how she took it, however.
)

(
I think she’s getting used to it. We had a polite conversation on how to handle the physical-proximity needs between His Highness, who will be quartered as usual in the Imperial Palace, and I, since I will be quartered with the other Terrans in the Diplomatic Palace.
)

.
 . . . And?
) To-mi prompted when Jackie said no more, her tone lighter than Jackie’s had been.

(
And it’s still undecided. She wants to control all such meetings to be physically decorous. I don’t think she gets why that isn’t going to last,
) Jackie stated.

(
Well, he
is
a delicious-looking fellow,
) To-mi allowed. That earned her a hard stare from the Ambassador. She shrugged again. (
What? I’m only over fourteen thousand years old. That is
not
the same thing as being dead. He is both handsome and a good man, and I am pansexual enough to appreciate both qualities whenever they are found together, which means I find
you
appealing as well—but I am
also
polite enough not to poach, so you may relax.
)

“Grand High Ambassador,”
someone called over the galley hall’s intercom.
“Please come to the matrix room. You have a comm call from Imperial First Lord Ksa’an.”

Sighing, she stood and started gathering the rubbish from her meal. “I’ll be glad when we can set up our own communications system in the embassy zone and use our own commlinks. I don’t blame the V’Dan for being cautious about foreign communications systems on a military station, but at least on the planet, we can set up our own network.”

The
jungen
specialist held out her hand, palm toward herself. “You go and answer your call. I’ll take care of your luncheon things when I take care of mine.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you,” Jackie told her.

To-mi smiled wryly. “I’m just glad you
can
eat V’Dan food, now. Safely, that is.”

“I’ll be even more glad when we can send home shiploads of the modified virus and start curing all those
allergies
,” Jackie stated, using the Terranglo word since there was no
equivalent in V’Dan.
Histamines
, yes.
Antihistamines
, yes. But not
allergies
or
allergic reaction
, or any variant thereof. “Too many people have suffered and even died over something your people haven’t known for nearly ten thousand years.”

“You’ll have some people wanting the marking version,” To-mi warned her. “Those who will want to admire and emulate the V’Dan. But I think you are doing the right thing, requesting and requiring a nonmarking version—and not just because I’m getting my full due respect among you markless Terrans.”

(
Understood,
) Jackie returned silently. Out loud, she merely said, “We like who we are, these days. Some days more than others . . . but still, we like who we are. Thank you for taking care of my tray, Doctor.”

“My pleasure, Ambassador.”

—

“And at that point, I swap outfits and introduce the military contingent as the local military commander-in-chief,” Jackie confirmed. “The introduction includes the performance of a
haka
, at the, ah, rather enthusiastic request of the soldiers. Out of ninety-four of us, eighty-seven voted for it, and the rest abstained—my performance at a hometown festival was broadcast on a lot of news bands in our version of the matrix. A couple of the troops and I demonstrated a sample of it to Admiral Superior Jes-na Tal’en-qua just this morning, and she thinks it will be appropriate for the Imperial Court.”

“That is good to know, but there is something in that which I do not understand,” Ksa’an stated from his side of the monitor screen. “You’re going to be there the entire time. How will you be changing clothes from your civilian garments as the Grand High Ambassador to the uniform of your role as the commander of your military contingent?”

“
Holokinesis.
I . . . one moment, meioa,” Jackie said, breaking off their discussion when she realized one of the soldiers in question had entered the room and stopped next to her. She switched languages to Terranglo, facing the dark-skinned woman.
“Yes, Corporal?”

“I’m sorry, sir,”
the corporal stated politely, if somberly.
Sir
was considered these days to be the correct term for a
superior commissioned officer, regardless of gender.
“I was instructed by Commander Graves to contact you immediately and give you this.”

She held out a datapad. Frowning, Jackie accepted it and flicked the button to turn it on. On the pad desktop, a large icon had been left prominently in the center. Tapping it, she watched it unfold into a recorded comm message. It was her brother-in-law, Maleko Bennington. He looked haggard, his hair a mess, clad in rumpled, dirty clothes.

“
Aloha
, Jackie. It’s been twelve hours since Hurricane Thomas the Ninth hit the Isles. Just . . . just over two hours ago, your
tutu
, Leilani . . . she passed away. We think it was, ah, first a heart attack brought on by the strain of trying to help everyone get to the storm shelters and get themselves organized, and then a stroke. Ah . . . they weren’t . . .”
He looked away from the screen, and the lighting in whatever concrete-lined room he was in gleamed along the edges of his eyes.
“We have medics here at the shelter, but they weren’t able to revive her. I know you can’t make it back in time for the funeral . . . so Hyacinth is going to . . . she and your brother Jacques will stand in for you, together. He’ll be flying up from Australia in a few days.

“Your mother flew in on a government craft, and is out busy assessing the damage. Hyacinth is telling her right now. I stayed at the shelter with
Tutu
Leilani and the
kamali’i
 . . . Alani is taking it hard; she was with her
tutu
when Leilani collapsed the second time. Hyacinth says half the south shore was flooded by a storm surge. The schools are going to be okay, but she hasn’t gotten near the house, yet. But we’ll be okay,”
Maleko stated, looking into the camera.
“Everyone had warning, we all shuttered our homes and got to the shelters.

“We’ll be
okay
,”
he repeated.
“I know Leilani wanted to meet the Empress, but . . . Maybe you can ask if a cupful of her ashes can be scattered on V’Dan?”
he offered, attempting a joke. It fell a little flat. He wiped at his cheek, then managed a second wavering smile.
“We’ve already had people coming up to us, swearing that if they survived in the houses, they’ll be donating some of the bits of the
na lei
given to the offworlders and left behind for souvenirs, to spread on the waves during her funeral.

“Look, you don’t worry about us, okay?”
Maleko asked the camera recording his message. “
Aside from Leilani, everyone is
fine
. You take care of yourself,
wahine makua
.
Aloha nui loa, a hui hou,” he finished.

The recording ended. Jackie didn’t remember when her left hand had left the tablet in the care of her right. It pressed now over her mouth while her eyes stung with grief.

“Ambassador, is something wrong?”

Blinking hard, she returned her gaze to the V’Dan screen. The green-striped face of Li’eth’s cousin looked jarringly odd, but the expression on the nobleman’s face was one of genuine concern. A moment later, she felt a tap on her mental walls, and the soothing touch of Li’eth’s mind reaching out to hers.

(
Something has upset you. What happened?
)

(
Grandmother Leilani is dead . . . and I’m stuck here, hundreds of light-years away. I can’t go back to pay my respects.
)

(
I’m sorry, Bright Flower,
) he soothed her, wrapping her in a mental hug.

The world around her faded into the background, leaving them mostly embracing on the beach in his memories. The beach in her memories, of seeing her grandmother lounging on that beach, running along it in laughter, hauling around a surfboard until her late seventies, celebrating many an occasion with a
lu’au
shared with friends and family and anyone who happened to be strolling along the beach in front of her house . . .

(
She was a wonderful woman. I think Mother would have liked her,
) Li’eth murmured.

Jackie struggled not to break down in tears. She knew she wasn’t on that beach in reality. She had to maintain control. She had to be dignified . . .

“I’m sorry, meioa,” she heard the corporal apologizing. “The Ambassador has just received word that her grandmother has passed away, the head of her mother’s family. Perhaps it would be better to continue in a few hours, when she has had some time to grieve?”

“Of course. I offer our condolences for the Ambassador’s loss. I will call again in four hours,” Ksa’an stated.

Dragging her attention back to the real world, Jackie opened
her eyes in time to see the corporal shutting off the monitor. “. . . Thank you.”

“I’m sorry as well, sir,” the corporal stated gently. “The comm system on the
Embassy 1
is ready and waiting for you if you want to make a call back home immediately. If not, it will remain on standby.”

“I’m . . .” She wasn’t ready for this sort of news. She needed a few minutes of privacy in which to break down . . . but a part of her knew it would be
good
for the V’Dan to see how a Terran handled her grief. “I shall go see someone, and . . . compose myself. Then I’ll go to the ship. In a little bit. Thank you for bringing this to me, Corporal,” Jackie added, offering back the pad.

“Of course, sir. I’m just sorry it had to be delivered. Will you need an escort anywhere, sir?”

Jackie sniffed. “Ahh . . . somewhere that has some tissues for my nose and eyes.”

Smiling, the younger woman dug a small, wadded stack of tissues out of her thigh pocket. “My drill instructor said a good Marine was always supposed to be prepared, sir. So did
my
grandmother, before she passed away.”