Chapter 11 - Part IX

Choosing their paths with the greatest carefulness, the two made their way to the edge of a clearing where they found her, propped up against a yellowing maple tree, emaciated and filthy.  Reiba, former lady of House Archne, had swapped padded corsets and silky locks of reddish mahogany for faded leather and a head full of knots and grease.  And though she tried to hide it with a wide-brimmed hat woven of flax and linen, two bees, one on each ear, stood out as if in attack formation in dark permanent blue.  The coughing had ceased, though her breathing was still hoarse and uneasy.

She dozed lightly, in a most ungraceful manner, her mouth agape and chin down.  Keubroc caught the eye of of Lord Vaughn who trailed behind him slightly, giving him a nod to alert him to her presence, then cocked his head slightly as if to ask for instructions at this point.

Lord Vaughn nodded back at him, indicating to Keubroc that the time was now.  Subdue, apprehend, and interrogate.  Take extreme caution to not kill - she will be useful alive he had said - but do not let her get away, even if that means her death.  If she survived, she might face the judgement of her peers while demonstrating the effectiveness of Imperial protection and justice.

Vaughn could not help but feel an overwhelming sense of closure.  This venture had been tiresome and he had disparaged his own oversight that let the former Lady Zaexyl slip away in the first place.  It was a failure, plain and simple, and the Silent Scholar would not look kindly on his error. Yet resolving the matter cleanly might still reward him with redemption.

Keubroc entered the clearing silently, with Vaughn at his back, crouched behind a thick oak.  Soft socks of leather had replaced his hard boots from the previous days, slowing his progression, but reducing the noise he made.  He did not expect to reach her before she woke, but he'd be as close as possible to subdue the woman.

Yet as he crept within a wagon-span of her resting place, her eyes flared open.  Reiba did not take half a second to rouse her emaciated self and jump up from her spot.  She tumbled to her left, fleeing into a thick grove of dense understory brambles.  Keubroc had no trouble following the cracks and whips of a woman crashing through brush without regard for her own skin and he followed in hot pursuit.

She did not run for long but by the time he had caught up to her, she was under the boughs of a dancing oak.  (put into notes for another descriptive opportunity: a tree known for its multiple stems leaning over the ground in an array of creative strands.)  There knelt Reiba in her sleeveless vest, a linen over jacket at her waist, and a jeweled dagger clutched tightly in her left fist pointing straight down to the leaf cluttered ground.  He put his hand to his sword.

"Do not move a single muscle more, soldier, or it will die."

"What are you talking about woman?" he asked not a half second before he noticed that the leaves and dirt rose and fell slightly, and that flesh of purplish blue could be seen in some parts. Something, or someone, was under the earth, but as to who, or why, the Second Sword was at a loss.

"What is that?"he said, not fully concealing his surprise.

"Are you an Empire man or not?" she replied, and though her words were feverish, her resolve remained strong; her eyes darting about as she mentally recorded every detail of the man who pursued her.

"So you may say."

"Then no doubt the great wisdom of the University on High can shed some light on this mystery," she spat, still not letting her eyes leave his.  With her free hand, she cleared away the dirt and debris from the face of the creature.  It appeared to be in repose and the commotion had not roused it.  It's eyes, quite human in appearance, were closed, but two great horns that originated at its temples made it clear that it was anything but human.  "you are so knowledgeable about every aspect of this world surely a this creature is at least known to you, if not owned by you.  What was it doing in our province?  What hideous new allies has your Empress wooed to her side?"

"I've never seen a creature such as this." Keubroc answered as calmly as possible.  "It means nothing to me."

"Feh!" she scrunched her face in frustration, "Yet you haven't moved.  If it isn't yours, then why concern yourself with its death at my hand?"

"I'd like to end this peacefully.  Will you return with me?"

"Rel's host take you and your tyrant Queen!" she screamed as she plunged the dagger into the chest of the creature.

At least, that was her intent.  She didn't make it very far before Vaughn, sneaking behind her, delivered a swift elbow to her back and she dropped the dagger and crumpled to the ground.  Vaughn circled her prone body and her eyes widened at the sight of his massive form.  He kicked the dagger well out of her reach before grabbing her vest at the sternum and pulling her up to meet his face.

"This world means nothing to you anymore.  Your life is over.  Whatever your plots, you will reveal them and you will die." and he threw her again to the ground.  "The method in which these things occur is entirely up to you." he later added.  He motioned over Keubroc and without missing a beat, the Second Sword was soon at his side, thrusting the woman's wrists and ankles in brass cuffs.

Blood coursing though the veins of his neck and hands, he felt alive with adrenaline.  More than one loose end would be tied this night.  Wide hands set to work removing the debris from the creature. The sun had long since left the sky, but its hue still made a stunning appearance of orange pink and red streaks in the sky.  It should be safe for it to wake.

"Tttch-chkitkit." he intoned, raising the interest of Keubroc instantly.  "Wake up. Tttch-chkitkit"

In moments the creature opened its eyes, and though it got up, it crouched down in front of the two men in submission.  It was still quite dirty, but made no indication that it was concerned with its appearance.  That is, until it caught glance of the now bound Reiba.

Vaughn quickly caught this and smirked in devious thoughts of what could be, but he put it aside.  "Keubroc."

"Yes sir." the man turned his attention to the bei'thal.

"This is a gegleth.  Are you familiar with the term?"

"No sir."

"Good.  That means we are doing our job.  This is a species we discovered a couple of generations ago.  About the tail end of the Lor Phe period - so perhaps 100 tides ago or so.  They've lived symbiotically with the Soa for longer than the Keeper's existence, should the myths be true.  Hence their name.  It's a Yibouhese bastardization of the Soan word 'geokeh'. (linguistic note, Yibouhese has no other sound following the "eh" vowel than "th" so much like how a spanish person will add an "eh" sound to an s-word in English, the Yibouhese add it in front of a "th") Tell me, what do you know of the Soan language?"

"Nothing, I am afraid." the younger man admitted.

"Then that makes two of us," Vaughn chuckled, "But so my teachers have taught me, I can pass on this tidbit to you.  A 'geokeh' is a mythical ghost that steals children from their beds at night when they are naughty."

Keubroc laughed nervously, "Is that what these creatures do then?  Kidnap misbehaving children?"

"The truth is these creatures are terribly good at getting things done without being seen.  They are expert diggers, strong, dependable and they eat little more than dirt, like a worm.  If you can pay their price, they are fiercely loyal, and ask no questions about their job.  Their only flaw is that they are a subterranean species and easily dehydrate and die in the sun.  They must dig themselves a bed to sleep in by day if they are caught outdoors." Vaughn looked over to the still crouched figure.  "Tttch-chkitkit, eat and be off.  Keubroc will follow you shortly."

The figure got up and began dusting himself off, helping himself to the clumps of dirt that fell from his segmented arms.  "What is their price?"

"Nothing less than the continuation of their species." Vaughn chuckled. "Soon enough, you'll learn more about them as you study to become bei'thal.  Civilians never see them, but for a bei'thal, the gegleth are ubiquitous.  Find your things and get that armor back on.  You'll have to do without sleep tonight.  The gegleth can only travel at night so you will have to sleep in the day with him."

"Him?"

"Yes, all gegleth are male."

"Every single one of them?  How is that possible?"

"Yes.  You will find out soon enough.  No more questions now.  I need to get him to the University on High before Coldtide celebrations.  We may be able to figure out how to make this all work afterall."

Keubroc look about him and picked up the jeweled dagger that Reiba had dropped and glanced to the east where somewhere his pack and breastplate waited to be found.  Vaughn had already turned back to his prey as he examined her bound body for anything of interest; weapons, communiques, artifacts.

Keubroc approached the man as he physically invaded Reiba's privacy, and was rewarded with facial reactions of fear and disgust.  "I still had more questions for you." he said as his plunged the jeweled dagger between the collarbone of the shirtless man.  Vaughn slumped to the ground and blood escaped his coronary artery and spurted through the wound.  His last seconds of life afforded him only the deepest look of hatred and malice to his murderer.

"It will be a lot harder to learn now." Keubroc added mournfully.

Chapter 11 - Part VIII

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"When will you understand that you cannot outrun me?" she muttered to herself, as branches and leaves whipped at her face in her haste.

No further than 30 feet away she would see the flashes of blue and purple weave in and out of clumps of dulling greens.  Every day her necklace pulsed more strongly, more rapidly, but she didn't need it now.  The sun was just beginning to peek out of the horizon.  Rest was near.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Tell me, how did a man of Sandor become a man of the Empire?" Vaughn queried his younger traveling companion.

"Isn't that one in the same?" Keubroc half-smiled.  "Is not loyalty to Sandor not dissimilar to loyalty to one's own arm, and by that same token, loyalty to Yibouh to loyalty to one's own body.  We may not choose the time and place of our birth, but we can recognize who, or what made them possible."

Vaughn peered at the City Enforcer as he stuffed his bedroll into his linen rucksack. It was the most he had heard the man speak of himself.  And while discretion was a desirable trait for a bei'thal, Vaughn wanted to know everything of a man who might become his next apprentice.  "Ah," he smiled, "So you are a second son then?"

"Yes," Keubroc chuckled in reply, "Or rather, a fourth son.  It is not a much better prospect for nobility.  Before I renounced my ties to join the City Enforcers I was of House Mecmae."

(NOTE:  I wrote this as part of Keubroc's conversation with Vaughn but the fact is he'd probably not go into this much detail without being very prodded.  Will save this as character background for future interactions - add this to comments section: My eldest brother gave his dutiful 16 tides before he returned to be groomed for lordship, same for the my second brother when he was killed in a hunting accident.  My sister stuck around for an extra four tides to hone her skills in mechanics and design before returning to Veradern to marry into House Kep'hla.)

"Paper manufacturing?"

"You understand a little Sandoran?"

"It sounds similar to the Eirdren word 'meihmai'.  It was a guess." Vaughn admitted casually.

"Then stick to your instincts, for that is precisely the trade that brought nobility and wealth to my family over the years.  Like the rest of my siblings, I was sent to the City of the Crags not long after I learned how to run.

"My siblings all eventually returned home, one way or another, but Pho-Boteth is a difficult place to draw oneself away from."

"Indeed it is." Vaughn nodded in agreement.

"It seemed a natural fit.  I've also got few skills beyond that of a sword." He added with a self-depreciating smile,  "I never did finish my 16th tide of study as I rushed off to join just after Cold-Tide celebrations naming me 25."

"Just a boy in the world." Vaughn bei'thal noted.  "To be 25 tides again and see the world in front of you as one huge adventure."

Keubroc laughed defensively, "No, not me my lord.  Young though I was, I took my duties seriously.  Too seriously for some I suspect."  All packed up, Vaughn pointed the way which the purple trail had manifested itself the previous night and the two began their trek anew.

"I have been told you are a stern man, but I'm glad to see you at least know how to laugh.  You and I, each in our different positions, don't just defend the bodies and property of the Empire.  We defend her smiles and her art.  Empire is more than just tracts of land.  It is culture and shared history.  We are guardians of that.

"I think you can do more with us, the bei'thal, than under the Wuob at the Augur." Vaughn coughed, a slight chill finally passing as the exertion of the hike began to warm him up.  "To be honest, your talents may be wasted under such a man."

"I have thought in great detail of your offer.  Indeed I've thought of little else." Keubroc replied dutifully.  "It is quite intriguing, and I am inclined to accept."

Vaughn looked back at the stout Sandoran man.  "You have reservations?"

"None my lord."

"Then when we are finished here, you will report to the University on High.  Take a few days there first to relax and enjoy all that made you love Pho-Boteth the first time.  After that, seek out Roh'ath rduap.  I will return to Eirdred with news of your transfer.  Welcome to the world of the bei'thal.  I look forward to your progress."

"Thank you."

The two continued until the sun had climbed high enough to overtake the sad pale face of the daytime Major Moon, though they did so in silence.  Though they had started out with Vaughn pointing the way, whatever magic the art of the bei had helped him accomplish had faded before their breakfasts had been fully digested and Keubroc had to be relied upon for his more traditional tracing methods.

Although Vaughn bei'thal did not miss a step and followed the younger man easily, Keubroc could sense a weariness from him that he had not had in the days prior.  His breathing was just slightly more labored.  His stride just slightly more rigid.  Keubroc did not know when the bei'thal would be back up to normal, but he was beginning to understand why the ritual he had performed could not have been performed every night.

So tired was the bei'thal that when Keubroc stopped in his tracks suddenly, he nearly crashed into the man.

Keubroc turned to Vaughn and covered his lips with his fingers, indicating a need for silence.  With the melody of woodswalking footsteps removed from their ears, suddenly the two could hear a diverse harmony of woodpecker chirps, goshawk caws and the scurries of ground dwelling rodents.  They also heard for the first time the slight hacks and coughs of an unknown in the distance.

Vaughn pointed to the nüdwuob's armor and motioned his thumb away and Keubroc easily understood the gesture.  Carefully, they both removed their plates of armor and lowered their rucksacks to the ground.  Padded leather and a solitary blade make for less noise than steel and straps.

What if you're wrong?

The prominent atheist Richard Dawkins was asked at some point in the past, "What if you are wrong?"  His answer, of course, was brilliant, but I have an answer of my own.

"What if you're wrong?" asks the student.

"What if I'm wrong?"  I reply, "What if you're wrong?  What if all this time, you have been living a life riddled with guilt regarding the natural lusts and desires of your body for no good reason?  Hating yourself without reason or rationale?  What if all this time you have been placing your sense of natural awe and wonder of the world and the universe into a man-made vessel, causing your curiosity to short circuit and placating you with simplistic explanations to truly fascinating and complex possible discoveries?

"What if they are wrong and their children die needlessly, and cruelly because they thought some figment of their imagination was telling them that a life saving blood transfusion is a sin?

"What if she is wrong and she stays with her abusive husband because she thinks a fabricated sky father would rather see her beaten to a pulp daily than face the prospect that she might find happiness in another?

"What if those parents are wrong, and they send their child into a spiral of doubt, confusion and self-loathing because they find out the child is gay?

"What if you are wrong and all this time your faith is merely a byproduct of your family, your ancestors some time back being subjugated and forced or duped to convert?  What if your made up deity is nothing more than the continued shameful exploitation of you and yours by the descendants of those who abused your ancestors in the past?

"What if you're wrong and all this time you have been praying to a god who isn't there, when you could have been communicating with those who care about you, and getting the love and support you really needed.

"What if you are wrong and all this time you have been living in a bubble of man's fabrication, unable to see the world for what it truly is, painting the rich color palate of reality with a set of 8 crayons?

"What if you are wrong, and you have put your heart and energy into something that does not exist?  What if you are wrong and you took this one life we have, the only thing we are sure of, and squandered it away by suffocating yourself in fantasy?

"What if you are wrong and your faith in an afterlife was nothing more than a tragically unmet need that you haven't been able to make peace with the facts of life and death?  What if your delusion has prevented you from ever being able to truly cope with the fact that you will never see your loved one again?

"What if you are wrong and all this time you were waiting for god to deliver happiness to you for your piety, you never stopped to realize that you hold that power within yourself?

"If you wish to discuss the potential consequences of a lack of faith, you must first examine the potential consequences of faith."



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=beYYZRN1sEs

Chapter 11 - Part VII

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was near twilight when Vaughn first heard the snaps and creaks of delicate twigs lying on the forest floor, but he was far too gone in a trance to offer the noise any attention.  Keubroc, when he reached the clearing Lord Vaughn had set up for their camp, said not a word as mild breezes made their way through the openings and joints of his light armor.  The subtle chill of late warm tide was just barely eking its way through the woods in the darkness.

Vaughn hummed quietly.  He had since removed his plate armor and underlying tunic leaving his hairy chest bare while he sat on his knees in a near trance.  Before him lay two twigs and some earth collected in a pile.  Focused in on these objects, he then removed a vial of a silvery purple, noxious liquid which he poured over the dirt.  With his bare finders, he kneaded the liquid into the dirt, forming a pasty dough of mud.  Only the slightest twitches from his furrowed brows indicated to Keubroc that the man was starting to feel uncomfortable.  Sweat began to bead at his bare forehead and his breathing became labored and heavy.

Vaughn's substantial hands then took a clump of the mud and pressed it into his sternum.  Keubroc looked in closely as he smeared it up to his collarbone, then his neck underneath his grizzled beard.  By now, his hum had turned into a desperate sounding groan and Keubroc took a subconscious step back when the man crumpled to the ground.

"My lord!" he cautiously made his way over the stones and moss to the prone man but when he saw his naked chest rising and falling he relaxed in urgency.  He fell to his knees and tried to rouse the Yibouhese lord, shaking the man's shoulders.  In a few moments, Vaughn's eye's flew open.

Coughing loudly, he muttered, "This is work better suited to a bei.  Damn them for not giving me another one."

"Lord Vaughn?" Keubroc asked.

Vaughn grunted in approval.  The City Enforcer was curious, but never lost his spirit as a soldier as to question him outright.

"Help me up." and Keubroc complied, pulling the now sweaty middle aged man to his feet.  The bei'thal blinked once and Keubroc was certain that he saw a glint of purple flash through the man's eyes.  "The tracks are hers, of that we can be sure."

"My lord?"

"You cannot see it, but I have augmented the soil to reveal who has touched it, and if that person is our prey.  I have done this by weakening the properties of the soil, forging it against the fire of my will, to melt it and shape it to my desires.  And through this, it tells me that it it was her body that passed through the woods.  There is no other sending us to alternate ends while she makes her escape.

"This is the art of the bei."

"The compromised?"

"Exactly.  Because no change anyone can impact comes without a cost.  For every action, for every product, the raw material that goes into it must be forever altered.

"Consider the iron ore that once was used to forge your sword.  It served a purpose at one point.  Perhaps not purposes of our design, but it was perfect for holding up a mountain, or marking a trail.  And though now you have gotten a new use for this iron ore, it isn't suitable for its previous tasks.  Can you slice a man with a lump of rock?  Can a sword make up the foundations of a building."

"No sir." Keubroc admitted.

"And so we lose something when we enact the compromise.  This soil will never again host tree or brush in our lifetimes.  It may even poison a field.

"Draining too, this is." he sighed in exhaustion,  "I do not think I can repeat it again for days.  A measure of purple oshieph was my stove; without it my will would do little more than warm the air around me.  But the fires of the bei'thal are never meant to burn too hotly.  We exist to reign in these raw powers.  Now, a bei would have an easier time of it, as they have already been forged to hone their focus.  The bei'thal direct them how to use it."

"A keeper of the compromised, and the compromised.  Then there are those who have been reforged, changed from one thing to another?"

"Yes.  People are the iron ore that make up the bei.  They become bei.  And for their sacrifice, they learn how to shape other people and objects to meet the needs of the Empire."

Keubroc stood impassively with this new information, questions being satisfied yet not completely.  If a person is forged into bei, do they still remain a person?  But this was not the time to ask.  "Then I suppose there is a reason why I am learning all of this?"

"Indeed Nüdwuob Keubroc.  We have been watching your progress at the Augur over the past few minor moons.  Your skills in battle and in tracking.  The way you handled the interviews with the nobles after the explosion at the Archne Estate.  You've clearly outshined even your superiors, particularly Wuob Corheab.  His incompetence likely tipped off the former Lady Archne, giving her some sense that the Augur, and maybe even the Empire was casting new scrutiny to their actions.  We might have avoided this whole mess if that man hadn't the brains of a frightened rein."

Keubroc nodded silently, his face cast in stone.

"But you can do something Keubroc.  You have the skills we need to keep peace in the land while advancing ourselves as a civilization.  We would like to train you in the art of the bei, help you learn how to manipulate and control the power that the hordes of the Keepers leak into our world."

"To leave the Augur then?" answered Keubroc curtly, as was his fashion.

"For the time being.  For training.  To have a permanent bei'thal stationed at the Augur would be immeasurably useful.  A permanent bei too; we get in trouble when we cart bei around the world.  And I think I have in my mind the perfect candidate for you.  Hopefully she is being trained as a bei even as we speak." Vaughn mused, half to the nüdwuob, half to himself.  "If you love your country, if you honor your Empress, if you want to see peace throughout the land, you will consider this offer strongly.  As I have said, the bei'thal can accomplish what swords and shields often cannot."

"You offer me much. Yet I would not be doing proper respect to the position if I did not consider my options carefully before making an answer." replied Keubroc, rubbing the black stubble of his face while trying to stifle a yawn.  The stars had already made their appearance a few hours prior.

"It is careful planning and mature forethought that we treasure among the bei'thal.  Please, sleep on it.  We can discuss this more tomorrow night.  I will need and answer before our mission is through of course, but please use me as a resource to help you make your decision.

"I will see you in the morning," Vaughn pulled aside the top layer of his bedroll, "I suspect we are near our quarry."

"Thank you Lord Vaughn," Keubroc caught himself, "Vaughn bei'thal.  You have given me much to think on."

Chapter 11 - Part VI

A thin column of sunlight peered directly through the gaps between translucent green leaves of maples and oaks.  It bounced directly off of the shiny plate of silvery steel that adorned the man Keubroc as he knelt in the warm hummus of the forest floor.

"Clearly, we do not track a lynx." his tall companion noted, looking around at broken branches and trampled brush.

"No, clearly not.  She was an Eirdred native, perhaps she'd never even seen outside the walls of the Red City before the last Minor Moon." he dipped his hand into the soil, feeling for the moisture that would have pooled in the foot print from the prior week's thunder storm.  "She went this way perhaps three or for days ago.  No longer than that.  I am sure."

"If that is so, I'm surprised she yet lives.  These forests may be tamed, but they are still forests."

"Yes, that is curious, Lord Vaughn." Agreed the man as he stood to face the Empire man.

"I'd appreciate your insight SecondSword." the bei'thal continued,  "We have zigzagged from a beeline heading due west to abrupt 120 degree angle turns to the north east, and then back again.  We've nearly avoided every village, until we made a 180 degree turn to the east right to the heart Vokdren, and since then we've gone through every village in a northwest line."

"Where exactly does this woman think she is headed?"

"Is that the correct question?"

Keubroc paused in thought.  "I see your point." he considered, "Perhaps we are giving her too little credit."

"Perhaps.  Tell me, what do you know of the alliances of former Lady Archne?  What had Augur scouts learned of over the years?"

Keubroc scrunched dull tan lips on his smoothly shaved bronze face for a second in contemplation, "She is a bit of an unknown.  From what we've gathered, she used to run some type of upscale consort service in Nogrem District for several years and that is probably how she first met the late Lord Archne.  We don't know much of her associations before that point."

"It's too bad you do not have one of us working from within the Augur." Vaughn mindlessly stroked his dark goatee struck with occasions of grey.

Keubroc pondered, "One of you?" He smiled.  "Surely Lords and Ladies of the University have better things to do than bide their time within the Augur."

"Surely they do."

"But you seem to enjoy our company enough.  So perhaps your Lordship is a bit of a misnomer.  Yet I can attest no knowledge of your calling."

"Nor would you.  We are a little secretive.  But we have ways of finding things out and using that information to prevent catastrophes such as these."

"That is an interesting concept."

"Perhaps you would be interested in learning more?"

"We have enough to do simply keeping her Wisdom's peace in the city."  With a smile, he squinted, his sandy brown eyes liquefying against the rays of the sun.  When Vaughn did not respond, he returned to the topic at hand, "It's possible that she is being helped, that there are others making tracks for her benefit.  She did not have many friends inside the city.

"Nogrem has at best an ambivalent opinion of her.  It may be her home district, but nobody of any importance knew her as anything more than entertainment.  The Tsituls have historically loathed House Archne second only to House Nogrem.  She may have had friends among the Trik. Records indicate that Horleih Trik visited the Archne estate not a minor moon ago to renegotiate bee keeping agreements on Trik farms.  Subsequent interviews indicate the old man appeared horrified and shocked at her explosive exit.  But perhaps outside the city?"

"The rural lords."

"Yes, I don't know the extent of her interactions with them.  She traveled rarely." Keubroc admitted, shaking his head.

"What ties might have the late Lord Archne had with the rural lords?" Vaughn probed further.

"Ah, that's right.  The Lot House I believe has its origin with the Archne House.  It is perhaps a 300 year old connection, but I suppose that is a connection.  Parent houses usually make a trip every other tide or so to reconnect with their daughter houses.  I don't know how well the Archne House kept up on this tradition."

"So we might be dealing with Reinfeld.  That's over a minor moon and a half away by foot.  Keubroc, head back to Vokdren to deliver a letter.  I will have Gregor head to Reinfeld to investigate Thenae Lot and his household to assess that connection.  In the meantime, I will set up camp here.  I have an idea on how to determine if these tracks are hers or if they are made to throw us off."

"As you will Lord Vaughn.  I shall return shortly." Raising his ungloved hand to his head, he touched his forehead lightly and gave the bei'thal a short nod in deference.

Journey to the Planet Earth - Europa

A trillion souls scrunched up on a blue-green dot in the sky do nothing to fill the vacuous loneliness that interstellar space offers.  The fact is though, with sincere intent, every now and again, those souls do attempt to populate the void through an exodus of cosmic osmosis.  Those who estrange friends and family for the lure of beyond make the first journey into coldness, into the wilderness of absolute stillness, are a special breed.  They leave without turning back, not out of a psychopathic lust to ignore human interdependence, but because even a molecule of regret will metastasize into a lethal cancer of the heart, dooming the very reason they have forsaken the familiar.  Those who first step outside their door, not knowing what they will find, or if they will even live to see the next second pass, are latent with flaws all their own, yet they deserve a very special chapter, perhaps written entirely in bold, in the book of the genus: homo.

But in the vastness of space, though the stars are still running away from each other even as they are birthed and die, human constellations are not so easily predictable.  The brazen spirit of exploration and revelation easily gives way to the constricting heart of homesickness, tribalized loyalties and passive interdependency.

*

The year is 2154.  The place is the colony of Khune and its small network of scientific research stations.   Over 3,000 minds make up this solitary lunar village on the Jovian moon, Europa, but for nearly half of the population, this is the only home they have ever known.  Even more are star children, having never seen the birthplace of humanity, but having been born on Mars or Luna before humans made the jump beyond the asteroid belt.  Only a select few can say their two feet once walked upon that tiny blue dot in the sky, and their voices are more than half a century old.

Perched lazily upon a bench drilled into the grey walls of the small radio room, Medhi Zheng, son of two star children, native of Khune, shifts himself slightly as he gets back to his summer reading in spite of the distraction of the ceiling.  The pink plastic upholstered bench is uncomfortable, but this is his favorite room in the entirety of the outpost Athena IV.

Like Khune proper, the vast majority of station Athena IV was under a thick sheet of ice kilometers deep but this room, small tiny hallway of a room is the closest thing to the surface before a suit or a shuttle is required.  Located next to the above-surface satellite and sun-shy solar panels, the radio room holds the communications equipment throughout Athena IV and served as the entryway to the partially below-ice garage.

A thick bubble dome made of a palladium glass compound offers the only tidally locked view of Jupiter from the near-side of the moon on the entirety of Europa.  For Medhi, though the room is small, and the two of the three exits are heavily padlocked and sealed, this room offered his only chance to be liberated from the well internalized and suppressed claustrophobia one might experience from living deep in a global sea perpetually locked in a thick case of ice.

"Medhi, azizam, tell your father the shuttle is ready to go.  Near-side lunar sunrise in an estimated 1.2 ESH.  We have to leave by then or we'll never make it to the colony before the far-side sunset." Dr. Neda Amiri gently places a thin, leather hand upon her son and smiles slightly when he looks up at her and nods.  She has been in the lab for the past several hours and strands of dark, silky hair carelessly meanders from underneath her loosely tied hijab of lilac purple.  She hadn't see the sun's rays illuminate the melding gases of reds, yellows and whites on the crest of Jupiter's horizon once during their two months stay at the outpost.  But come to think of it, she hasn't seen much of her son either.

"Yeah, I know.  I will." Medhi replies but by then Neda had already left the room and returned to the lab.  She knew he'd be a good boy and do as he was told.  No further persuasion was needed.

He puts down the tablet and it automatically shuts down, blinking the words of Gilgamesh out of existence for the time being.  Summer reading.  It was a funny term carried over from Earth.  Once, the term 'summer' meant a period of time where the climate warmed up over a geographic location.  Once, there were other terms for other times of year; Winter, Spring, Autumn, but those words could only be seen in science textbooks and novels written on Earth.

Now, a summer means only a break of school, and these two months were the last summer Medhi could expect to enjoy in his lifetime.  Childhood was in a quick sunset and Medhi was running out of time trying to determine what scientific field he would base his career on.  Would he study geology and planet science and explore deeper the internal sea of Europa?  Perhaps Engineering was his call, where he could begin working on another colony compound or a new wing on Khune.  Or perhaps the agridome needed more scientists expanding what was culinary possible on this nutrient poor ball of ice.

All options had one thing in common: Europa.  Sure, sometimes Jupiter fell into the mix of study; Dr. Amiri spent her life, after all, researching the electromagnetic discharge radiating from the gas giant.  It was her work that birthed the technical ability to capture energy from the planet rather than the sun in the darkness of the near-side of the moon.  It was how this base could function even though the sun was so very far away, and even though most of the time the gas giant named for the king of the gods cast his shadow on Athena IV.  He was sure his mother would be overjoyed if he followed in her footsteps.  What new discoveries would she expect out of her son?  But for Medhi, just like the ice that trapped and encased every colonial building, Europa, even the mere thought of the frozen moon, made him feel claustrophobic.

I need to get out of here.  It is not so much a thought of Medhi's that continues t pop up every now and again, as background radiation in the space of his existence.

"Athena IV, Athena IV, this is the Wukong II.  Preparing to return the buggy to base in 10 minutes.  Please respond.  Over."  The radio beeps and Medhi rushes over to the console.

"This is Athena IV, responding to the Wukong II.  Shuttle doors are open and we are preparing for your arrival." he started formally. "Baba, Maman says tells me we need to hurry.  I think she's worried about having enough solar energy to make it back.  Over."

"This is Wukong II.  Copy that Athena IV.  I am on my way.  I got some amazing shots over here.  Finally captured the shot of the ambient gas glow on a pre-dawn Jupiter.  Amazing colors." buzzed the reply over the radio.

"Baba, did you get any of the blue dot?  Over."

"I did Medhi.  Waxing crescent.  It seemed so close, almost like it was a child of Jupiter's rings.  It is amazing to think about it."

"To think about what dad? Over."

"That somehow that little blue dot started it all.  Ever try to imagine it?  Nine billion of us somehow squeezed onto that little ball.  Compared to the 3,000 of us on Europa, or the thirty thousand or so between Mars and Luna, it seems unfathomable.  When Nai Nai was still alive she used to tell us stories about life there.  You ever wonder how things would have been if she had stayed there?"

"Sometimes.  But you could have stayed on Mars too." Medhi retorts, the hint of accusation he intended is buried too deeply in his matter-of-fact manner that his father doesn't notice it.  Finally he adds,  "Over."

"I could have, but not Maman." his father says softly, "We all make our choices Medhi."

A long silence passes between the father and son before a final buzz from the Wukong II beeps from the radio.

"Athena IV, this is the Wukong II.  I have arrived at destination.  Please prepare the shuttle doors.  Over."

"Stand by Wukong II.  Shuttle doors opening.  Over."

The above ground garage is small; hardly complex.  Medhi had mastered basic operations for the vehicle warehouse early on in his teens and the procedure is solidly and rotely in his brain.  He can do this in his sleep.  His fingers are light on the console and he can feel a shudder as the bay doors slide against the rock hard ice separating firmament from humanity.

The garage opening let in an eerie glow of dark purple, red and yellow coming from the Jupiter enveloped sky above, and Medhi

His father, 蒸文峰, Wenfeng,

"Fuck man." Xinbo sighed.  "I don't even know what I am going to do with myself." He grabs "dong" off of the neat line of majhong tiles.  And he smiles when he turns over his tray revealing the rest of his hand.  The tiles clink slightly as he adds "dong" to the line up.  /The Big Four Winds/  Medhi sighs, but Allen and Mohammed laugh.

"Damn it man,  I didn't think you were that close." Allen swears "Clever bugger."

"What does that even mean?" Medhi asks his friend, wanting to be mad at something.

"I don't know."  Allen offers uselessly.  "It's just something mum and dad say all the time in English.  And that's about the extent of my English, Mum, Dad and Clever Bugger."

"Fucking Americans." Xinbo says and Medhi and Mohammed nod but Allen just shrugs.

"Well any way, nice one Xin!" Mohammed refocuses the conversation and slaps Xinbo on the shoulder and Allen starts cleaning up the tiles.

"I suck at this game." Medhi says, defeatist.

"Yeah, well I don't think Europa is in dire need of a Mahjong expert any time soon." Xinbo echos Medhi's frustration, in spite of his win.

"Why don't you just man up, go to your dad and start an apprenticeship?" Allen asks.

"Are you a marine biologist now?  Don't tell me you caved in.  Loser. Do we really need another Dr. Holme?"

"Eh, fuck you Mohammed." Allen says, dismissing his friend's jab, "Not everyone gets selected for Governance Service straight out of high school.  You've still got a friggen half decade to think about it, and, by that time, you'll probably have set yourself up with some cushy job in infrastructure.  I needed to do something, find some way to get work hours filled, so yeah, I'm going to start apprenticing at the end of school.  Whatever.  At least biology work hours are time and a half." 

"Yeah, it's people like you that piss me off, Allen." growls Xinbo.  "You have something.  You have a way to not starve."

"Nobody starves on Khune.  That's just some self-pitying fear mongering." Allen retorts, "You still get subsistence rations if you don't fill your work hours."

"Do you even know what it is like to live on subsistence rations because even though you are a student, your dead beat mother who can't fill her hours, fills her plate with what you earned with your school hours."

Medhi knows where this conversation is headed to.  It's not the first time Xinbo and Allen have gotten into this fight, but as the day towards their graduation draws nearer, they get more heated and raw.  Everyone knows the answers to these questions.  Xinbo hasn't seen his father in 7 years and as far as Medhi knows, the split was not friendly.  He might as well apply for an apprenticeship with the agridome.  Even with his miserable grades from high school, it still would be more likely.  

And everyone in this room knows that though Allen might harp about his old man, he might have been swearing since middle school that he'd never go into marine biology, but Allen is all talk.  Time and a half is just too tempting to pass up.  It means downtime for half of the Earth Standard Year in exchange for half an ESH of intensive work.  Half an ESH to explore life beyond survival in Khune; the opportunity to make music, to paint, to dream, to go where the imagination drives you.

"(Xinbo) Xin and Lily (Shin) didn't make it." Medhi finally manages between breaths. Somehow, now that the words have been spoken, now that the sound of his voice has reached the ears of others, the finality of the fact crashes into him.  Now it's real.  It is as if his lips, not the pressure-less, oxygen-devoid emptiness of space, ended their lives.  His heart is racing and it isn't from the exertion of the climb.

"

----

“The reason why we go forward,” she says, “Is that we can’t go back.  If we try to return to the space we occupied this morning, we’d be on the other side of the world.  Life keeps moving, plants keep growing, moons keep spinning and every second that goes by the sun is that much closer to its irreversible end.  We can talk about the old ways.  We can look at our hometowns and try to recreate that little slice of life we remember, but we’re only finding new ways to act out old walks, we’re only creating new lives inside of familiar walls.”

“Then what is this point of you being here?  If that's what you believe, you are going in the wrong direction.” Medhi condescends, cutting her off only after her last word left her lips.

“Because we aren’t returning to the land of our grandparents.  We are exploring the lands of our children.”

Medhi finds himself not looking forward to the vast amount of alone time he was likely going to have with Sanaa.

----

"Gravitational stabilizers are back online.  You should be able to demagnetize your boots now." He announces to the group.  He is trying to suppress his pride.  He's trying so hard to not let this small victory inflate his head to balloon sized proportions.  It isn't a sense of modesty that guides him.  He is still swimming in a surreal state.  Clinically, he knows their troubles are far from over.  But he also knows that he isn't feeling the true sense of danger surrounding himself and the passengers.  He can't afford to feel proud that he got them moving again because complacency is death.  And there is still a long way to go until Mars.

"Thanks (Persian).  We owe you big time.  When we get to Mars, your first round is on me."

"Right back at you Medhi."

----

Medhi says finally.  "Earth is where it all started.  Every piece of land there has already been explored.  A-Level uses the same textbook.  I've seen it.  You can't possibly think... "

"What is land?" she asks, interrupting him without mercy.

"Are you being serious?  That's a stupid question.  You know what land is."

"If it is so stupid you should be able to answer.  What is land?"

"It's the ground.  Only it's made of dirt instead of ice or the floor."

"Is that all?  So the pots and raised beds in the Agridome are land?"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it.  You are really annoying, you know that?."

Sanaa continues, "What does land feel like?  What does it smell like?  How do you know it is land?"

"Do you honestly think we'll get to Earth and I won't be able to figure out where the oceans end?  Don't worry about it!  I promise you, when I arrive, I will know what the land is."

"Exactly." she says, lowering her tone.

Now Medhi is confused.  "What?"

"When you get there, you will know what land is.  You don't know what land is now.  Sure, you know about land.  You have read the tales of Earth, the description of it.  You might even know some of the things that make up land.  But Medhi, you don't know land, and neither do I.  I'm an explorer Medhi, and so are you.  We are exploring things that are unknown to us, and making them known.  There is nothing more exotic and exciting than that!