Authors: Mitch Benn
Hissed cheers and cries of
– FaZoon! FaZoon!
rang out across the square as the glowing shape descended silently.
-
Nervous?
whispered Lbbp to Terra.
-
What do you think?
Terra replied. Lbbp gave her hand a comforting squeeze.
The FaZoon vessel completed its descent and hung over the square, filling everyone’s field of vision with dazzling light. It was now too bright to look at directly. Some of the crowd shielded their eyes with their hands, others donned tinted goggles (around the outside of the square, goggle vendors had been doing a roaring trade).
-
Here we go,
said Vstj to Terra.
Stand beside me.
Casting a nervous glance back at Lbbp, Terra stepped forward and stood alongside Vstj. The FaZoon ship, bright as it was, suddenly glowed brighter still. Everyone in the square, begoggled or otherwise, had to shut their eyes for a moment. When they opened their eyes again, six new figures stood on the steps in front of the Mlml delegation.
They were tall, thin and bright. That was as much as anyone could tell. Taller than the Fnrrns, the figures glowed almost as brightly as the starship. If they had such a thing as a ‘shape’, it was impossible to make it out.
The cheers and
FaZoon!
s subsided and a hush descended.
-
Go on,
hissed Vstj.
The figures stood, motionless and luminous.
-
Now?
whispered Terra.
-
YES!
hissed Vstj.
Terra produced her slate from under her robe, gave a little cough and began to read.
-
Kaa sem lo maa FaZoon. Maa sem ko jay saya Fnrr mo FaZoon.
The figure nearest to Terra bent down as if to scrutinise her. Terra did her best not to be put off and continued.
-
Fo sem kaa mee FaZoon-shaa, ra-sa mo soom-kaa . . .
The figure’s face – or where the figure’s face would be – was now level with Terra’s own. The light it emitted made it hard for her to read, but feeling all the eyes upon her, she carried on.
-
Jaya fo maa, jaya fo soo, jaya sem ko-na-sem . . .
The figure raised its . . . hand? Arm? Finger? and reached out towards Terra’s face. Trembling now, she raced to finish the reading.
-
Mo sem ja doo kaa FaZoon-shaa! Gaa sem . . .
The finger touched Terra’s forehead.
Terra stood on the rainbow sand, gazing out over the pink sea.
Where is this?
A PLACE OF THE MIND.
I thought you didn’t do this sort of thing.
Terra stood on snowy wastes. Icy winds whipped past. It wasn’t cold.
WE ARE FAZOON.
I’m Terra.
Terra stood on a high mountain peak, looking down over forests and rivers. She wasn’t afraid.
YOU ARE NOT OF THIS WORLD.
No, I just live here. I’m from Rrth.
Terra floated in space. Before her hung a familiar blue-green planet and its solitary moon.
That’s the place.
THEY DO NOT KNOW US. THEY MUST NOT KNOW US.
Well, I’m not going to tell them.
Terra was in a place that was not a place, whiteness and silence.
THIS IS UNFORESEEN. YOU ARE UNFORESEEN.
I’m sorry . . .
Terra sat on the stone steps, her slate in her hand. It was dark.
She could hear cries and gasps of alarm from all around her. Someone grabbed her shoulders.
-
What happened? What did you do?
It was Vstj. Lbbp appeared behind him and pulled him away from Terra.
Terra began to stand up. -
They’ve gone?
Lbbp helped her up. -
One of them bent down and touched you and then they all disappeared. FaZoon, ship, everything.
Vstj was still shouting -
What did you say to them? What did you say?
Terra was confused. -
I just read out what was . . .
-
The Ymn child scared them away!
said a voice from the crowd.
-
Whose stupid idea was it to let the Ymn talk to them?
said another. Shm and the Chancellor exchanged awkward glances.
With angry murmurs and disappointed groans, the crowd began to disperse.
Terra looked tearfully up at Lbbp. -
I didn’t do anything . . . They spoke to me inside my head . . . I don’t really remember what they . . . I didn’t tell them anything I wasn’t supposed to . . . did I?
Lbbp put his arm around her. -
Come on home. It doesn’t matter. Nobody blames you.
-
Are you sure?
asked Terra. She gestured to the retreating crowd.
I think some of them do.
-
Well, nobody who matters blames you,
said Lbbp.
-
Look!
Fthfth shouted.
They did leave us a message!
The movement of the crowd had revealed strange symbols, freshly carved into the white paving stones. The FaZoon had given the Mlmlns a gift of knowledge after all.
Vstj, who had been slumped despairingly on the steps, leapt to his feet.
-
Where is it? Where? Out of the way, let me see . . .
Vstj stared at the symbols. He produced his slate from under his robe and began translating.
-
Two whole pt-ssh . . . one fnj, chopped . . . one ch-fsh leaf, one pinch vshk . . .
Vstj sat down on the steps.
-
It’s soup. They’ve given us a recipe for soup.
Lbbp smiled. -
So it hasn’t been a complete waste of an evening.
He took Terra home.
The next morning, the square was deserted. The FaZoon symbols remained carved into the stones.
Later that day, Pktk came back to the square. He diligently copied the symbols onto his slate, and carefully translated the whole inscription. He went to the fresh produce market, bought the ingredients, went home and followed the recipe to the letter.
It was really good soup.
T
he next few days passed smoothly enough, although Terra couldn’t help but feel that a cloud of suspicion still hung over her with regard to the FaZoon incident. For all of Pktk’s protestations that
no, seriously, you should try it, it’s really good soup
the general feeling was that the Fnrrns had been collectively cheated out of something, and while no one was foolish or nasty enough to suggest that it was in some way Terra’s fault while in her presence . . .
The matter of the Interface was also unresolved. Given that there didn’t appear to be a way for Terra to use the device safely, she’d been excused from Interface sessions and given the time to do extra reading. But, much as Terra had feared, she couldn’t keep up with the sheer volume of information that her classmates were absorbing. For every text or article she read, her friends would simply programme a hundred or more directly into their heads.
Lbbp would do his best to cheer her up, but Terra was consumed with worry that she’d be held back an orbit, or worse, banished back to the Pre-Ac.
Sometimes, of an evening, Lbbp would pass Terra’s room. He would peek inside and see the child peering furiously at her slate, scanning through screens and screens of information. He wondered if she could possibly take anything in at that speed. On other occasions he would pass outside her door and hear her crying quietly. The first time this happened, he hurried in to her, offering consolation and hugs, but her obvious embarrassment at having been caught in tears made him feel guilty at having added to her distress. After this incident he would stand outside the door, listening to her sobs and feeling wretched at his failure to help her.
This couldn’t go on. Lbbp resolved to demand an audience with the Preceptor. He owed them a favour.
T
erra ached all over as she floated towards home. Gshkth was not really her sort of game at all, she decided.
Fthfth’s skill and enthusiasm in the gshkth pit were a sight to behold, but while her enthusiasm was infectious, her skill wasn’t. She would wield her gfrg with strength and dexterity, and while Terra could swing a gfrg like the best of them, she always seemed to be half a blip too slow to receive Fthfth’s passing zmms. The bdkt would ricochet maddeningly off the hddgs, sometimes coming to rest among the frkts, sometimes getting stuck fast in a nshp. Fthfth would call out -
Yk yk! That was definitely a yk yk!
and try to persuade the arbiter to play a jrf-jtt, but the arbiter would blow his pff, call ANOTHER tsh-tsh and play would recommence until Terra, inevitably, would ch-gss when she was supposed to ch-grr and they’d concede another mgmk.
Terra was beginning to suspect that Fthfth wished she’d chosen another gshkth partner. She approached the main room window of the apartment, felt in her pocket for the little metal tube, squeezed it and watched the crystal slide open. She deactivated her bubble, stepped into the room and flopped onto the padded bench. Just a moment, she told herself. Just a moment to get her breath back, then she would go to her room and start reading. And reading. And reading.
The door swished open and Lbbp appeared, smiling.
-
You’re home! Excellent.
-
Is it?
-
It certainly is. Wait right there.
Lbbp disappeared again. Terra was too tired to be confused or even particularly interested.
After a few moments – or possibly longer – Lbbp reappeared. He trotted into the room, followed by another Fnrrn Terra didn’t recognise, younger than Lbbp but still much older than herself. He wore a silver garment and carried a slate. She sat up and peered at them blearily.
-
This,
said Lbbp,
is Gftg. He works for the Brain Science Directorate. I think you may be familiar with some of his work.
Gftg held up his hand and splayed his fingers. -
It’s a real honour to meet you, Terra,
he said with what seemed like . . . nervousness?
-
I-I’m sorry,
stammered Gftg.
I’ve been following your story with great interest ever since . . . since you were . . . since you . . .
-
Arrived?
ventured Terra.
-
Yes, arrived,
said Gftg.
I was so pleased when your – erm, when Lbbp
(Lbbp had asked Gftg not to refer to him as Terra’s ‘father’; he’d just remembered in time)
contacted me. I do hope I’ll be able to help you.
Terra had absolutely no idea what was going on.
-
Come into the servery,
said Lbbp, registering her confusion.
Terra followed Lbbp and Gftg through the corridor and into the small room where food was prepared.
-
Oh no,
she groaned.
There on the work surface, just next to the protein manipulator, stood an Interface.
Lbbp smiled. -
I thought you might say that,
he said,
but let Gftg explain.
Terra sat down grumpily on one of the servery’s stools, folded her arms and glowered at the Interface, her memory full of headaches and the smell of burnt hair.
-
I worked on the design of the Interface,
explained Gftg,
and between you and me, not only was it never intended for use by Ymns, it wasn’t even supposed to be used by children at all.
I know,
thought Terra, but couldn’t be bothered to explain how.
-
We’d already made some adjustments to the model we supplied to the Lyceum, but it wasn’t until we heard about your . . . incident that we realised it was going to be used by anyone . . . erm . . .
-
Differently evolved . . .?
suggested Lbbp.
-
Exactly,
smiled Gftg.
So much for the ‘manufacturer’s assurances’,
thought Terra.
Gftg went on. -
There are obviously some fundamental differences in cranial and cerebral structure between Ymns and Fnrrns,
he said,
but without access to any, erm, detailed information on Ymn anatomy we didn’t know exactly what these differences were. But Lbbp here,
he gestured towards Lbbp who smiled proudly,
granted me access to the medical scans from your regular Nosocomium check-ups.
Terra wasn’t sure whether to feel grateful or disturbed. Gftg had obviously gone to great trouble but the thought of a stranger poring over images of her brain was a little . . . creepy.
-
Anyway, I’ve been studying the scans for a while now and I’ve been able to construct this,
he indicated the Interface.
It’s your own personalised model.
Terra approached the work surface and looked at the machine. It was sleeker and newer-looking than the one in the Lyceum, with a smaller crystal dome (to fit her smaller head, she supposed).
-
Can we afford this?
she asked Lbbp. Lbbp smiled.
-
It’s taken care of. The Preceptor said it was the least he could do.
After Lbbp had pointed out at length and quite forcibly (by Lbbp’s standards) that, given the humiliation he’d brought upon Terra with the FaZoon debacle, paying for her to have her own Interface was, quite literally, the least the Preceptorate could do.
Terra bent down to look up into the glass dome.
-
Want to give it a try?
asked Lbbp.
Terra wasn’t sure.
-
Just see how it fits,
said Gftg.
Nervously, Terra inserted her head into the dome. She smiled.
-
It has spaces for my ears,
she said.
-
It has spaces for your ears,
smiled Lbbp.
-
I’m just going to run a start-up programme,
said Gftg.
It’s not going to transmit any information, it’s just going to try to sync to your brain.
Terra heard the sound of Gftg tapping instructions into the machine, then the three blips of the countdown.
She felt a warm sensation. Nothing unpleasant.
It was as if a distant voice were calling to her. Faint, indistinct. She strained to hear it.
It seemed that the voice was that of someone who knew her. Knew her, but wanted to know her better.
The voice was louder now. It called her name.
-
Terra?
Louder still.