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1 -- Nykkyo

 

Nykkyo Kyhana dreamed of a blue world. It was the same as he had dreamt for the past ten nights: The flash of a warp jump and he found himself looking down at a blue orb flecked with white and seemingly small enough to hold in the palm of his hand. He began to fall, accelerating toward the planet -- a lone, naked figure falling through the void. The sapphire sphere grew to overwhelming size as he fell, expanding to fill his field of vision...

He woke with a start, breathless and his heart racing. Beside him lay his wife Senta, her face turned from him and hidden by unruly locks of red hair. A shaft of golden morning sunlight streamed through the archway leading to the balcony.

Nyk arose, showered and dressed in a tunic and xarpa. He stepped onto the balcony of the apartment he shared with Senta, looked down 353 stories to the street and watched the orange sun bronze the city. It was 6636.031 APF, the 31st Floran day of the 6,636th Floran year after PlanetFall.

He turned from the balcony and stopped to regard a medallion hanging on the wall. It was a golden disk with a green stone set at its center and incised with three odd symbols. At the top was an upright with two crossbars. Next, clockwise, were two slashes tilted toward each other's tops. Clockwise again was another upright, bent to the lower left and crossed with a single stroke.

Nyk lifted the pendant from its hanger and cradled it in his palm. He noted a flaw where it had been bent and straightened. The disk was an artifact from the founding days of his world. He felt pride to hold it; and melancholy as he recalled how he had acquired it. It had belonged to his father.

Senta stood nude in the doorway to their bedroom. “You didn't sleep well last night,” she said. “Your tossing and turning kept me up.”

“You're right, korlyta,” he replied. “I didn't. Thoughts of my transit tomorrow kept disturbing me.” His gaze returned to the golden pendant and he traced the mysterious figures with his fingertip.

“Nykkyo Kyhana -- the keeper of the crest.”

“Why do you mock me so? I'm proud of my Kyhana blood. For two hundred generations this pendant has been passed from grandfather to father upon the birth of the first grandchild. It won't be rightfully mine until you and I have a child. What are the odds of that, Senta?” Her eyes narrowed. “Stranger things have happened, I suppose. How do you think Dad would react to learn his son finally made something of himself?”

Senta folded her arms and sighed. “I don't understand how you can consider a one-year ExoAgency tour making something of yourself. You'll still need a career after you return.”

Nyk ignored Senta's remark. He huffed moisture onto the pendant and buffed it on his tunic. “I suppose this should be in a museum. It is an object we know was crafted on Earth. By right, it belongs to all the Floran people. Maybe I'll donate it along with my translation of Koichi's journal, once I finish it.”

He replaced the object on its hook, returned to the balcony and looked out. Floran City's urban landscape stretched before him to the horizon. He saw the streets filling with groundcars and foot traffic. Tubecars sped through the transparent, tubular roadways lacing together the city's mile-high skyscrapers, and skimmers flew from rooftop to rooftop. Senta stood beside him.

“The High Legislature is in session today,” he said. “No doubt debating the wisdom of relocating the polity's capital to a colony planet. I understand the Deltans are making a case for the honor. I wish they would. It might relieve some of the traffic.”

“Will you be stationed in a city?” she asked.

“In a small city. It's smaller than Sudal. The population's about fifty thousand.”

“Come, I'll heat some breakfast.” He followed her to the apartment's kitchen and began brewing a pot of green tea. She retrieved a pair of prefab meals, warmed them and plunked the trays onto the table.

Nyk sat across from his wife and regarded her as she ate. For an instant she seemed to him a stranger. He had married her eight Floran years ago -- shortly after the shuttle crash had claimed his parents. Like most Florans', his was an arranged marriage. Veska had insisted on it.

“I'll be home early today,” Senta said, “to prepare for your farewell party.”

Nyk was dreading the party. “I'm not looking forward to it,” he replied.

“I don't know what's wrong with you -- why you're so adverse to having a little fun.”

“Tomorrow I go offworld for a year. An Agency tour of duty seemed a good idea when I applied for it. Now the notion is beginning to daunt me.”

“I wish you hadn't chosen that assignment. I rather you had signed onto a scout cruiser, instead. You might have served on the vessel that discovers our next colony planet.”

“Might-haves don't count.”

“You certainly wouldn't have gone through such arduous training and you wouldn't find yourself alone on a hostile world.”

“It's hardly that. It's different, but it's not hostile. I don't mind working alone. My Agency training is more than adequate. I'm sure I'll survive Earth.”

Nyk's gaze focused on the coin-sized tattoo on Senta's right deltoid -- the marriage crest binding her to the Kyhana line. The design was identical to the one on the pendant, and he wore her family emblem on his right upper arm. The same Kyhana insignia had adorned the shoulder of Nyk's mother.

He recalled his cultural training. On Earth -- or, at least in the corner of it where he was headed -- brides and grooms selected each other on the basis of love. He wondered if the Earth adage was correct -- if a man married a woman similar to his mother. If it were so, he mused, then what about Senta would remind him of his mother? They certainly didn't look alike. His mother had been a large-framed woman with the sandy hair and blue-grey eyes she passed on to her son -- round, soft -- attractive, in a matronly way.

Senta frequently was mistaken for a girl half her age.

He scooped a spoonful of his breakfast and wondered if it worked the other way around. Would an Earth woman choose a husband who reminded her of her father? What about himself was similar to Veska? One similarity he did recognize -- toward the end, his parents had been incapable of beginning a conversation without it degenerating into an argument.

“You know,” Senta said without looking up, “ExoAgents have died there. Some were burned alive.”

“That was hundreds of years ago. We've had no problems with Floran Agents on Earth for generations. The Agency is a critical arm of the Service. I'll be making a valuable contribution to the health and welfare of our people.”

“Think what you like.”

“The Agency is how we obtain fresh genes to keep our food and fiber crops healthy. As a geneticist you must appreciate the importance of that.” Nyk scooped another spoonful. “I wish you hadn't planned this party. I'd prefer to have a quiet evening alone with my thoughts.” He sipped his tea. “And with you, korlyta.”

“I think you'd rather have a quiet evening alone in your study. You'd probably prefer a quiet lifetime in there. Why can't you see tonight as a last chance to have some fun before you start your assignment?”

“Senta, I know tonight's event is really for your enjoyment. You're well aware I don't like these occasions and I never feel comfortable at them.”

“You're inhibited, Nyk. It must be that provincial upbringing of yours. You're in the City, now. You should regard tonight as a chance to get it out of your system. You'll be on Earth a long time. Indulging at one of these parties in no way diminishes what you and I have. I've invited some very beautiful men and women. The Arodsu twins will be here. They were flirting with you at last year's lab party, I recall. Aren't you the least bit curious about them?”

“Curious, perhaps... a little,” he said.

“Then, use this as an opportunity to satisfy your curiosity. The party is in your honor. No one would refuse you.”

“I don't like making intimate with strangers, and I hardly know them. I'll bet I'll hardly know anyone.”

“If you would've given me the names of some of your amften, I'd have invited them, too. Oh, I forgot -- you don't have any. How can you have friends to invite if you can't take the trouble to make a few?”

“Let me see the guest list, korlyta.” Senta handed him a datacel. Nyk inserted it into a vidisplay and scanned the list with a frown. “I was right. I hardly know anyone. How many of these number among your conquests?”

“Why does my social life bother you so?”

“It doesn't, Senta -- it amazes me.”

“It must, or you wouldn't keep bringing it up. We do have our understanding.”

“As you like to remind me.” He looked into her green eyes. “I'm sorry -- thoughts about the mission have put me into an odd mood.” He returned his gaze to the vidisplay. “Are any of the women on this list fertile?”

“No -- none have applied for birth licenses.”

“Good. Then we won't have to worry about any accidents. Did you invite Aahhn and his wife?”

“Yes, but they declined.”

“I'm not surprised. Aahhn's too busy now with his responsibilities at the clinic.” He continued to peruse the list. “Zander Baxa is coming?”

“So -- you will know someone. He's the only dear friend of yours I could think of.”

“I haven't seen him in years. He and I were best friends as boys in Sudal, and he's the one who first interested me in the ExoAgency. He'll bring his trophy wife. You know she's an ax'amfin.”

“I hope you won't use that word in front of her, Nyk. She'll be our guest.”

“Would you rather I called her ax'amfa?” Senta glowered. “How about ax'amorfa?” She looked daggers at him. “You know how I feel about the ax'amfinen. You can sometimes see them on news broadcasts, consorts to colonial officials looking so ... so stuffy and snooty. That whole institution's an abomination. We should abolish the genetic counselors that create them and the finishing schools that train them. I can't believe our society permits it.”

“They're such beautiful women,” she replied, “so striking, with such light blond hair and white skin.”

“I suspect she's the reason you invited Zander.”

“I've wanted to meet one.” Senta sipped her tea. “I have some curiosity of my own. Promise me you'll make her feel welcome in our home.”

“I promise, korlyta. I can't understand what Zander did to deserve one of those women. I've never heard of a mere mortal like him being assigned an ax'amfin. He's no colonial chancellor. He's a mid-level functionary -- an ExoService career man.”

“Your father earned such a reward. He could've had a finishing school companion.”

“My father did something much more sensible. He had the house in Sudal built.”

“That's not my point,” Senta replied. “It is possible for an ordinary citizen to accomplish something and be granted a boon. Finishing school companions are frequently so awarded.”

“It's not right to make a human being the reward for accomplishment.”

Senta placed her empty tray and cup into the waste reprocessor. Nyk dumped his utensils, walked to his study and sat at his desk. He picked up a metallic cylinder and turned it over in his fingers. A polymer tray held a number of similar objects. They were the data capsules containing the journal of Koichi Kyhana.

Nyk slipped a datacel into his vidisplay and contemplated the screen. Senta stood behind him. “I can't make any sense of this.”

“Those are the old Roman characters,” he replied and touched the screen. “This is the same

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