Chapter 11 #3
There was a large stone structure at what I assumed was the center of the city, a squared-off replica of the lumpy nests around it, rising like an irregular fruit into the air, ringed with balconies and dotted with more of those windows-slash-solar panels.
It was next to a bumpy organic structure that was almost as tall but less visibly constructed.
It seemed to “fit” better, for lack of a different word.
I peered down at the green rim around the city just in time to see a massive beetle coming in for a landing, having launched itself from somewhere in the cliffs off to the side. It tucked its wings away and trundled into the city proper, its rider a tiny speck in the distance.
“They don’t use motor vehicles because they don’t need them,” I said slowly. “Do they use electricity?”
“Yes. Thanks to the cycle of the suns, night lasts only a few hours here, but while it’s happening, the city lights up like anything.
It attracts enormous moths, which the hunters will bring down before the suns rise again.
That’s about half of how they supply meat to the city. Moth is surprisingly filling.”
“That is … actually really clever,” I said. “Turning the whole city into a moth trap? Not the worst plan I’ve ever heard someone come up with.”
“They also have water purification, advanced medical technology, and everything else they need to be a stable, thriving society. It helps that the hive mind keeps them from wanting much more than the necessities: you’ll never meet a Johrlac who’s focused on accumulation of personal wealth.
It isn’t needed, since no one would imagine letting someone else go hungry or cold or uncared-for. ”
“That sounds … pretty okay, really,” said Sam carefully.
“It is, as long as you don’t mind being born into whatever position you’ll be expected to hold as an adult, with no opportunity for self-determination or upward mobility; if you’re cool with reproduction happening only when assigned, since the gestating parent will determine the base telepathic encoding of the child; and if you don’t object to the elderly being used as bait for the larger aquatic isopods,” said Alice, tone remaining calm and unwavering.
“I know we’re not supposed to judge the way other cultures decide to organize themselves, but I kind of hate these people.
They’ve never made a choice based on anything other than the benefit of the community as a whole, and that sort of very specific big-picture altruism leads to a lot of personal cruelties. ”
“And they have Sarah?”
“Maybe not here in Ka’krin, but somewhere,” said Alice. “Come on.”
She pulled on her stromopod’s antennae, guiding it down the rise and onto the side of the bowl, where its many sharp legs found easy purchase as it began to wind its way toward the city. Sam and Thomas guided their mounts to do the same, and together, the four of us made our descent.
It didn’t take us long to reach the city.
Pedestrians wandered the streets, all dressed in those brightly colored jumpsuits, otherwise identical.
It wasn’t just their faces: there were only two haircuts I could see, both long enough to be tied back, although one was shoulder-length and the other stopped at the chin.
The two haircuts didn’t seem to be connected to genders; males wore their hair long and females wore theirs short, and vice-versa.
Some of them were accompanied by dog-sized beetles, or rode in carts pulled by equally unreasonably sized insects.
I could have gone my entire life without seeing a four-foot-long cockroach trundling down the sidewalk on a leash.
There were no motorized vehicles that I could see, but there was still a distinction between sidewalk and street.
The sidewalks were narrower, and sometimes transitioned into what I would normally call boardwalks, raised on stilts and leaving the street below.
The street, in contrast, was wider and used by various carts and draft animals, which moved smoothly and fluidly.
There were no traffic lights, and yet people still took turns, waiting at corners for the opportunity to move.
It was all dauntingly polite, and very, very silent.
Compared to a car, a giant riding beetle doesn’t make any noise at all.
The draft centipedes and stromopods clicked on the ceramic tile of the street, but it was a soft sound, like the tapping of fingers on slate, nothing like the roaring of an engine.
Alice led the way, turning her mount toward the central building we’d spotted from above.
It was massive, far larger than it had looked from the rise: at least five stories as I measured building height, with multiple entrances and exits.
It was shorter than most high-rise towers, but it was also apparently made of some lumpy organic material rather than steel or concrete, which made its height all the more impressive.
There was a nearby stone building, even taller, but nowhere near as busy.
As we drew closer to the central building, it became obvious that some of the open-fronted buildings around it were a sort of hybrid between stables and parking garages; there was one right outside our destination.
Alice turned her stromopod toward the garage, stopping it in front of a man in a red-and-brown jumpsuit.
He jumped, startled, before reaching out to put his hand on the stromopod’s front claw.
“Where did you come from, big fellow?” he asked—the first speech I’d heard since we reached the city.
Like the Kairos, he sounded like he was speaking English, although his speech didn’t match the motion of his mouth.
I understood every word. I glanced around, finally finding a cluster of mind-mind flowers growing under the eaves of the roof.
He didn’t acknowledge Alice as she slid off the other side of her mount, moving to help us ease our stromopods up into position. She pressed a finger to her lips, signaling us to stay quiet as we slid down the sides of our own animals.
The garage attendant looked increasingly confused as he collected the three animals and guided them inside.
He didn’t seem afraid of their claws, and I felt an odd pang of regret as I watched them walk away.
They hadn’t been affectionate or even particularly friendly, but they’d been with us, and I was sorry to see them go.
Still silent, Alice walked back to the corner and waved us all over to join her.
She looked around, making sure that no one was in close range, then said, in a harsh whisper, “Some of these people know me. I’ve been here before.
They won’t think it’s strange if I’ve come to consult the cartographers again. ”
“Alice…” said Thomas, warningly.
“I’m not asking you to let me go inside alone.
I’m just saying it works better if I’m the one who takes off my telepathy blocker.
They’re used to me, and I’m part-Kairos.
They can’t dig deep enough to find out why I’m actually here if I just keep thinking hard about why I want them to believe I’m here. ”
Thomas took a deep breath. I could almost see the moment where he decided she was making sense and worth trusting.
I managed not to nudge Sam and point it out to him.
It wouldn’t have done any good. Thomas had been working on his “The woman I love is going to do ridiculous bullshit and I just need to put up with it” responses for longer than Sam had been alive.
“All right,” he said. “But please remember how much it would upset me to see you taken apart by hostile telepaths.”
“Yes, dear,” she said, and leaned in to kiss his cheek before she removed the anti-telepathy charm from around her neck and turned to stride toward the nearest set of doors into the massive central building.
The rest of us followed, unwilling to let her get too much distance from the party.
She walked straight up to the guard next to the door, flashing him an enthusiastic smile.
“Hi,” she said, bright and bubbly as anything.
“I’m Alice? Price? I have an appointment with the cartography department? Can you let me on in?”
He turned slowly to look at her, eyes glacial blue for a moment before they flashed firefly white. He nodded, expression never wavering. “We remember you, Alice Price. We had heard rumor that your long quest was finally ended. That the matter of Lemure had been resolved.”
“There were some developments, and they’ve left me with new leads to follow, but everyone who’s traveled through this sector knows that your maps are unrivaled, and I need help.
” Alice kept smiling, but a manic gleam was creeping into her eyes.
“I can find him if I just keep going, I know it. Are you willing to help me keep going?”
Something about the way she said that made me feel like she wasn’t speaking solely to the guard in front of her. The fact that his eyes had yet to stop glowing reinforced that impression.
“Your quest is an admirable one, Alice Price,” said the guard. “We are proud to have offered you aid in the past, and have sincerely hoped that one day, your long road would lead you to victory. If we are able to in some way facilitate that goal, we would be glad to do so. Do you remember the way?”
“I do,” said Alice. She tilted her head slightly to the side. “May I enter?”
“You may,” said the guard. The white light in his eyes flickered out, and they were once more blue and serene as he pulled a small lever next to the doors.
They slid open smoothly, and Alice stepped through, moving with the sort of casual slowness employed by a woman with no need to hurry—or who was trying to keep the door open long enough for her less-visible companions to slip through.
On the other side was a sort of makeshift airlock, with strange flowers clustered in the corners and vents at the very top of the walls.