IGMS Issue 13 Page 5

  I released Dor'is. I straightened a little and tried to smooth my hair, but when gray sludge plopped onto my shoulder from my fingers, I figured I still looked pretty disastrous. "Dor'is was trying to escape," I explained.

  "Escape?" asked the director.

  Dor'is pointed at me. "This human attacked me without reason."

  "You were climbing out a window!"

  "And for this I deserve to be ambushed?"

  "Please calm down," said the director, holding up his hand. "And Elt Vik'ay, I see you there in the window, please come out."

  The shape in the window shifted and emerged, becoming the young man with bushy hair I'd seen in the office. He gingerly stepped out onto the wet ground and then stared at me with round, green eyes. And he blinked. A real blink, with eyelids.

  "Now, someone explain to me what is going on." The director looked at Dar'el, but Dar'el just looked at me.

  "I . . . ah . . ." I looked back at the youth, distracted by his eyes. "Who . . .?"

  "Elt Vik'ay," said the director. "Immigration assistant."

  When I glanced back at the director, I realized by his pursed lips he was waiting on me. In fact, everyone was looking at me. "Dor'is started a fire in her cabin," I began. "She locked me and Shandra inside and set off something to explode."

  "Nonsense," said Dor'is, and spun to walk away.

  Dar'el's clutched the woman's shoulder. "Just a minute."

  Dor'is snorted. "You started that fire, Dar'el. You knew the women were in my shack. I tried to stop you, but you were crazy with affdesfals. You struck me and I was helpless to stop you. Look at his hands," she said, jutting out her chin toward the director. "Ask him how he burned himself."

  "Dar'el wouldn't hurt me," I said, my fists balling. I was considering striking her myself, but the receptionist was making his way toward us with a Reisan in a maroon uniform. We were apparently drawing a crowd.

  "One of your townspeople burned your shack with two women inside, and you decided it wasn't worth reporting?" asked the director.

  Dor'is narrowed her dark eyes. "I was here to do just that."

  "That's not all she did," I said. I stepped forward. "She set up Shandra and me to be attacked by the Arway men. I think she was trying to get us hurt because she doesn't like the exchange program."

  "What do you mean she 'set you up?'" asked Dar'el.

  I lowered my voice and leaned toward him. "Last night, in the barn. The others said she'd told them each secretly it was supposed to be their turn with us."

  "Olai shay," he said, and glared at her. Then he pushed her toward the director. "I believe there is cause for investigation," he said. "If Karla says Dor'is tried to hurt her, it is the truth."

  "Ridiculous!" Dor'is struggled to pull loose from Dar'el's grip. "She's a hormonal earth outcast. She's the one who wants to sabotage the program."

  "And yet you were the one who informed the men of Arway they were to share the two earth females, were you not?" asked the director.

  Dor'is stopped struggling. She met the director's eyes, but she seemed smaller. "I felt it was the best solution at --"

  "Despite clear guidelines. Despite knowing the consequences."

  "Oh, what is the big deal? It's not as though this is about free choice, is it?" Dor'is waved her hand toward me. "She was brought here to reproduce. Your bureaucratic guidelines and tasteful manners can't conceal that this exchange program is just cattle-driving."

  I was startled to discover Dor'is and I agreed on something. I almost said so, but she kept talking.

  "What difference does it make to you who she mates with? What difference does it make to her? It's what she's made for, isn't it?" She waved her hand at me again, and her face curled inward. "Look at her. It's disgusting."

  I was ready to slug her this time, despite the onlookers. I made a move toward her, but Dar'el put his hand on my shoulder.

  "Fine," said Dor'is. "Maybe I nudged it along a little, but what happened was inevitable. Because you won't leave well enough alone. Meddling in the affairs of my body, taking away my choices. Now you're meddling again with Earthlings." She pulled back her shoulders, and her stooped back creaked when she tried to straighten. "Hasn't it dawned on anyone that maybe we're all trying just a little too hard?"

  "Too hard?" asked the director.

  "Maybe Reisas and Earth are two civilizations whose time has come. We should fade out with dignity, not with all this scrabbling to create a whole new creature that was obviously never intended to exist."

  The young Reisan sucked in a sharp breath. "Ayantamel!" He touched his fingers to his mouth.

  Dor'is startled. "Vik'ay, esta tu ah…"

  "What did she say?" I asked Dar'el. "What's Ayantamel?"

  "Grandmother," said Dar'el.

  "Speak in English, please," said the director. "Both of you."

  "Is that what you really think of me, Grandmother?" asked the Reisan. I could see moisture in his green eyes.

  Dor'is shrank inside her robe, looking fragile and tired. "I didn't mean you, Vik'ay."

  "Yes, you did." He stalked toward Dor'is. "I think you've meant all along for me to never have children." Then he turned to face the director, his boots squishy on the gray mud. "But I want to have children. I do. I just . . . I let her talk me into . . ."

  The director put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Into what?"

  "Shut up, Vik'ay," said Dor'is.

  The young man looked toward his muddy boots. Then he turned and reached into Dor'is's robes. Dor'is batted at his hands, but he withdrew a small dosage administrator and offered it toward the director.

  The director took in a sharp breath this time. Dar'el's eyes narrowed.

  "Is this . . .?" asked the director. He squeezed a drop of pink liquid onto his fingertip and dabbed it to his tongue. Then he looked at Dor'is. "Trestakaya." He clenched his teeth. He looked at the uniformed officer and nodded toward Dor'is. "Lock her in the recovery room until she can be properly transported."

  "Nanayant Elt Dor'is, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Ragin Karla and Baren Shandra," said Dar'el, coming from behind me to grasp the old woman's arms. "And for possession of trestakaya contraband."

  "This is crazy! You can't arrest me!" Dor'is struggled, and Dar'el nearly lifted her off her feet to pass her to the uniformed officer. She continued to wrestle and yell, lapsing into Reisan. For such a wiry little shrew, she really gave the uniform trouble. Vik'ay, on the other hand, lumbered off quietly behind.

  "Please cooperate, Vik'ay, and I will see to it you are handled gently," said the director.

  "You will have to tell me everything that happened in that cabin, Karla," said Dar'el. "What was said, what was seen. Shandra, too. A full statement."

  "Statement?" I asked.

  "We will need to seal off the remains of the shack," he told the director. "The brewing system mentioned by Baren Shandra must be how Dor'is was manufacturing it."

  "So a fire could have a double purpose. To destroy whatever evidence was inside, and to remove those who had seen it."

  "All during the confusion of affdesfals, so we would not be able to recall details afterward. Nearly perfect," said Dar'el.

  "Maybe you two would be more impressed if I'd actually died."

  Dar'el looked at me, his blue eyes wide. "Karla, I did not mean --"

  "Well, what did you mean? When did you talk to Shandra? And why do you suddenly sound like a policeman?"

  "Ragin Dar'el was a police officer in Mau'ana, our capital, before he was wounded," said the director. "He volunteered for a rural resettlement eight years ago."

  He shook his head. "I came to Arway to get away from violence." Then he stepped toward the director and touched the man's elbow to guide him along the building. "We should get that evidence to safety."

  "It is fortuitous you were a witness." The director stepped across the mud without so much as dirtying the tips of his cloth shoes. He held the dosage administrator with two finger
tips, as though it contained Black Death.

  I fell in behind them, my own feet sinking so deeply into muck I strained with every step. "What evidence? What is Trestakay?"

  "Trestakaya," the director corrected. "It is a synthetic hormone that suppresses the ripening of female Reisans. The chemical has been banned for many years, ever since we realized its prolonged use had affected following generations, making them unable to reproduce."

  "You mean that's why your people are dying out with no babies to replace them?" I asked. "Because of a drug?"

  "A synthetic hormone," he said. He paused and looked over his shoulder at me. "Reisas has a complicated past, Ragin Karla. Trestakaya is an unfortunate product of that." He regarded me for a long moment, and then faced forward and continued walking toward the building's main doors. "I have no experience with this sort of illegal activity, Dar'el, I will need your advice as to proceedings."

  "There will be an investigation as to whether she was manufacturing it for personal use or whether she and her granddaughter were trafficking."

  "Granddaughter?" I asked.

  "Elt Vik'ay." The director nodded toward the doors where the rabble had disappeared inside.

  I blinked. I'd thought Vik'ay was a male.

  "Your wife will cooperate with our legalities?" asked the director, pausing again. One hand rested on the carved handle of the main door, one hand cradled the dosage administrator.

  Wife. "No one told me I was supposed to be a wife to all those men," I said, remembering again. Getting angry again.

  "Ah, yes . . . about that." The director removed his hand from the door and faced me. "A grievous misunderstanding. And we are already working to make amends. Your return passage to Earth will be at no expense to you, or to the men of Arway."

  "What about bringing more women? Ones who really want to come?" I asked.

  The director smiled thinly. "That would be an expensive prospect."

  "As costly as having an illegal trestakaya plant operating under your very nose in Arway, where the venerated Nanayant attempted to slaughter the first two women of the union program within days of their arrival?"

  His jaw clenched. He cleared his throat. "Yes, well. I'm sure something can be arranged."

  Then the main door opened, and Shandra's smiling face peeked out. "Don't forget the blessing," she said.

  "Shandra!"

  "Shall we join them in the lobby?" asked the director, sweeping his hand toward the door. I watched that hand, and the graceful way his fingers met the air. Then it dawned on me. He was a female!

  How many females had I'd come across without recognizing them? I glanced toward Dar'el. Could Reisan males tell the difference? Or did the hormones confuse them, too?

  "Isn't it exciting?" squealed Shandra, yanking me through the door and pulling me into a tight hug. Van'el stood behind her, his green hand on her shoulder. The director brushed past us, speaking quietly to Dar'el. They both continued into the lobby.

  I returned Shandra's hug. "I thought I wasn't going to be able to say goodbye."

  She released me. She looked over her shoulder at Dar'el, then back to me. "You mean you're still leaving?"

  Well, wasn't I?

  "Didn't they tell you?" asked Shandra. "They've made me interim Nanayant." She leaned in to whisper in my ear. "I really put my foot down. You would have been proud of me."

  "That's great," I said.

  "I know! And as my first official act I'm going to bless you two in front of the whole village."

  "You don't have to do that," I said. "I won't be here long enough to need it."

  "Actually," said Van'el. "We have been told the next passage to Earth is planned in three months."

  "Three months?" I blinked. "Three months?"

  "Although, I am not certain how the legal proceedings will affect this. You may be asked to stay longer."

  I must have looked faint, because Van'el braced his arm around my back. "But Dar'el has asked us to provide our home for you in the meantime. We are happy to, of course."

  "Unless you'd rather stay with Dar'el," said Shandra, smiling faintly, her brows suggestively arched.

  I looked toward the man who was my husband. He continued to speak with the director. He held open a brown envelope, and when the director carefully slid the dosage administrator inside, Dar'el folded the flap and wrapped string around the entire thing. Then he pointed toward the receptionist and other office personnel, and gave them orders I didn't understand. I watched him for a few minutes, but he never looked to find me.

  "No," I said, and wearily turned for the door. "I'll go with you."

  Shandra exchanged a look with Van'el. I could feel her disappointment, but she just nodded. "First thing we'll do is get you a bath." She took my hand and led me toward the doors. "It'll make you feel better."

  "Sounds great," I said, knowing I needed one; knowing she was right about my outsides. But I was pretty sure it wasn't going to make me feel any better on the inside.

  I knelt in Shandra's garden, my shins cradled by soft loam. The zrrt-za of green-black beetles and the whistling report of the pastel-feathered birds that hunted them had become a familiar morning opus. I'd learned this patch of ground. I'd cleared weeds and old leaves, had made room for foliage to stretch and breathe, had watched time pass in the unfolding of buds into frumpy petals.

  I counted petals now. On the daisy-like flower in front of me, only one had fallen. When they all dropped, it would be nearly time to shuttle home.

  Home. The word had lost its meaning.

  "This garden likes you better than it does me," said Shandra, crossing the yard toward me, calico fabric folded over one arm, and a parchment note in her hand. "I could never tell the difference between flowers and weeds. I think I kept pulling the wrong ones."

  I smiled. "They do look the same at first."

  She held up the parchment. "We've been summoned again. Next week."

  I looked up and shielded the sun with my hand. "Again? What for?"

  She parted the note at the fold with her thumb and read. "A bureau deciding about Dor'is's mental state."

  "What's to decide? She's crazy."

  Shandra smiled. "Well, true. But maybe it's the trestakaya. Van'el told me one of the long-term effects of the drug --"

  "Synthetic hormone," I said, waving my finger, grinning and scolding at the same time.

  "Right. Synthetic hormone. I guess it causes a kind of aggression similar to affdesfals." She stepped into the garden, walking cautiously between rows of tidy foliage.

  I didn't find that hard to believe. "But Dor'is doesn't need any help being aggressive, I'm sure of that. And I'll be happy to tell the bureau."

  "You're probably right." She paused near me, her bare toes the same color as the garden dirt. "Her family is likely to say the same thing. She and her son had a falling out when he married a human, but they weren't very close even before that."

  I pushed to my feet. "Have you heard what's going to happen to Vik'ay?"

  "Not officially, but Dar'el says they won't charge her with anything. She's cooperating. Plus . . ." She smiled. "Either Dor'is's trestakaya was a mild version of the original, or it wasn't having the same effect on Vik'ay's blended DNA. She might as well have been feeding Vik'ay cough syrup."

  I laughed. "I would have liked to see Dor'is's reaction to that news."

  "Me too."

  "So maybe human DNA really will be an answer for Riesas," I said.

  She drew in a deep breath, and the calico fabric over her arm fluttered as she pressed her hand to her belly. Her dark eyes radiated, and I could feel the warmth of her smile even beneath the midday sun. "I'd like to think I'm an answer. And that my child will be."

  I regarded her, wondering if I should be envious of her contentment. All I could feel was happiness for her. "You're going to be a great mom."

  "So are you, someday."

  I hadn't thought of myself that way before. Considering it startled me. I awkwardly stab
bed my finger toward the fabric on her arm. "What's that you have?"

  "A dress. For you." She held it up, letting the skirt of it touch the flower petals. The pink of the pattern was an exact match.

  "From Dar'el?" He'd been sending a dress a week for the last several weeks.

  "He likes taking care of you, I think," she said. She laid the dress against my hands, and I accepted it. "He misses you, Karla."

  "He's said that?"

  "He doesn't have to." She bent and touched the face of a daisy with her brown forefinger. "Just like you never say how much you miss him, but you do."

  I touched my left earlobe with my free hand. I'd wrenched out the metal clasp a while ago, but an irritated scab remained, and it stung. "I miss Mama Iris, too, but I don't exactly want to be her wife."

  She laughed, and tugged at the flower's stem. I moved to stop her, but the stem snapped. I watched her slide the daisy -- my daisy -- behind her ear. "So what do you want?"

  I held up the dress to examine it. I had five others, all similar in style, with rounded collars and delicate buttons near the neck. "I don't know," I said, even though I'd been pondering that question on my own for a long time.

  "Karla?" I recognized Dar'el's voice immediately, and lowered the dress to discover him standing in Shandra's doorway. He was wearing a blue flannel shirt, like the last time I'd seen him, and it lit the blue of his oval eyes. His hands were clasped around a small box.

  Shandra was right. I missed him.

  "Oh, I need to check on the . . ." Shandra scuffled through the garden row and toward the door. ". . . something in the kitchen." She glanced over her shoulder at me, briefly, before ducking behind Dar'el and disappearing.

  He was regarding my face. When I realized his eyes were on me, I took a step toward him. "I like this new dress you've given me."

  He smiled. "Do you? The pink pattern made me think of you."

  "Yes, it's very pretty. Thank you."

  "Your welcome."

  I returned his smile. And then I folded the dress and laid it over my arm, because I'd run out of things to say.

  His smile faded, and he stepped out of the doorway. "I came to tell you I've beenoffered a job in the city. In Mau'ana."