Cosmic considerations in a room of speculation. If not a garden.

The closer I looked at Maigan’s model of Andala, the more I was intrigued. I pulled it close to me, to see just how she made it. But nothing about the little globe felt the least bit artificial. I saw no seams, no paint, no ink. In fact, as I held the orb up to the distant light, I’m sure I saw the clouds take on different shadows, until, in the tiny dusk, ruddy haze spirited them away to night. It really did look just as worlds do from out in space. Not to mention that it felt as though it hadn’t any weight, and I couldn’t see what held it up.

“This, this is quite impressive.” I stammered.
“This is Andala.” Mina said to Tani, a broad smile on her face.
“Mmm!” Grinned Tani. “But my Andala is more big.”
“Tani, your globe doesn’t begin to compare to this!”

I held on tight to Maigan’s model. I couldn’t even tear my eyes from it, indeed, it felt like the most precious thing I’d ever touched.

“We are…” Mina said, hovering a finger over the world, “move your hands…”
“Right. Sorry.”
“…here!”

She tapped the very spot where we stood. But she quivered.

“What do you think this is made of?” Mina whispered to me.
“That’s the thing. I haven’t the least idea. Not a projection, at any rate. It feels like…”
“Like air?”
“Like cold air. But then you press into it.”

By now, Tani wanted to have a go, too. I noticed her hand grasp the world away from me, and only then did I realise she’d let go of my waist.

“Marie!” Mina gasped at the sight of me, free beside her in the air.
“This Andala is quite good.” Tani observed, twisting the globe around single-handed, pondering it like an apple she fancied tasting with a bite.
“Apparently this is fine.” I said, putting my hand on her shoulder. Although she’d let me go, I couldn’t move any more freely than before.
“I see her mistake!” Tani shouted, startling the lot of us.
“Mistake!” Said Maigan, now right next to us. Tani shot a surprised glance at her.
“Anaya,” she said, gesturing to the thumbnail sized patch of the globe’s surface which mapped her homeland, “is more small. Too small. You Azu is playing your none sense!” Although Tani spoke in our language, Maigan could well understand her. She pinched her fingers over the surface of the globe, letting a rather nervous Mina free while doing so.

A brief exchange of angry Anatara followed while Tani and Maigan each took the model in their hands and dismissed the other’s foolish ideas. I enjoyed watching them mirror each other’s gestures and condescending looks.

“Who won then?” I asked as they finished. Tani took a moment to come up with her answer.
“We go to Bee and we will see Anaya is more big than this!”
“It looks about right to me. Goodness, you can even see the glimmer on the Aykataliya river.”
“Everything is on purpose by Azu.” Tani grumped. “She knows.”
“Marie.” Said Maigan quietly, as she tapped me on the elbow to take me away from Tani. I felt a gentle sway as she moved me up with her, little Andala in her other hand, toward Kai where it belonged.
“Kariala?” I asked, pointing to Andala’s nearest little sister moon.
Maigan nodded, careful with Andala in her fingers as she righted the world.
“And over there is “Sankarala?”
“Mmm.” She smiled, expecting we should know as much about the neighbourhood.
“But where is Jaramala?” I said, shrugging my shoulders to emphasise the question.
Without looking up, she waved off in Kai’s direction. Sure enough, just behind its rings, I saw the smallest of Kai’s four moons, and more or less as slight as it looks in Andala’s sky.
“How on Earth did you make those rings, I wonder?”

Once she put Andala back in its right place, Maigan pulled me right beside her to see what she was getting at. She traced the line between night and day on her model, the terminator, a good while from us in bright Zuba, where she pointed next. Indeed, she’d got the alignment perfect. Close to Andala’s orb, everything out in space looked quite as it did in reality. But one thing wasn’t there. She pulled us back away from Andala, and went a sixth of the way around Kai. I could tell by how the moons changed. Then, where there was nothing in the air between us whatsoever, she pointed an emphatic finger.

“Zancra.” She said, with a provocative look on her face, like I was meant to be surprised.
“What? I don’t see anything. What’s Zancra, Tani?”
“Azutara.” Shrugged our Ana assistant, a good way below. “Not any thing sense able.”
“Look where you are, Marie.” Said Mina, down there with her. “Would you say that she could be pointing to…”
“L5?”
“Proteus!”

Right enough, she was. From where I stood, Andala looked the same enticing orb as when we first arrived, desperate for a place to save ourselves. I stared at it, reliving the memory for a moment. The blue circle that got ever bigger until we touched down. Our ship, we left behind out here right where she pointed. Out where the balance between Andala’s gravity and Kai’s would keep it safe. Maigan was quite right, of course.

“Proteus.” She said.
“Yes. Proteus.” I pointed to the same invisible dot, between our heads. “Our ship. We call it Proteus.”
“But how did she see it from this distance?” Mina called from over there, where Andala itself was but a toy.
“Wouldn’t I just love to know.” I said, looking into Maigan’s glowing eyes.

Out beyond the planets and the moons of her model, painted on the walls of the circle shaped room, blue lights glistened against the orange red of Andala’s sun. Sharp blue stars so dazzling that we even have names for them on Earth, hundreds of lightyears away. Alcyone, Maia, Electra, Caleano. The one the Ana call Sahra, the one we call Merope, glowed the brightest of them all, proud and electric far behind where I’d looked before. It really was a little universe in here, a microcosm in the most literal sense I’ve encountered.

And even so, on this scale, how far would our homeworld lie away? I shuddered at the thought of explaining such a thing. But if there was anyone who could understand, it had to be our star builder. She was still watching me once I’d thought all this. Had she to know? How could we lie to her?

Touching down, Marie meets Maigan face to face.

“We should touch down now.” Said Mina, leaning over the back of my chair. “Before our visitors try to find their way inside.”
“Good idea.” I concurred. “Do you want to do it or should I?”

If there was anyone you could truly count on, it was Mina. She was terrific at staying focused and keeping cool, even out here in a strange old world we never thought we’d find. But something unnerved her this time.

“Oh, yes. Right.” She laughed, and returned to the empty pilot’s seat. Tani joined her up front, where Maitel had been, tiny in her chair. She watched every action of Mina’s at the flight controls, up on the window, until something made her sit bolt upright.
“That’s the ground below.” I explained as Mina pulled up a visual on our nadir.
“Then why is it out there?” Tani demanded, waving her hand at the projection.
“It’s just an image. We can move it wherever we want.” I said as Mina indulged her and pushed it to her side.
“You make down go up. You move chairs above the sky. But still you can’t even fly?” She declared. “Humani!”
“You must teach me how someday.”

Mina slowly took us down, while Maigan and her coterie watched from right outside. Bee’s gentle sway seemed to both surprise amuse them, as Mina picked our spot. I worried a little, remembering what Ganaks could do to our little lander without the least ado.

“Say, where is he anyway?”
“Quiet, Marie, please. I am trying to set down precisely between the trees.”

Right enough, around the tower lay a rather picturesque garden of trees and stones and flowers. The one thing it didn’t have was a lawn.

“Let’s hope it’s not some sort of Zen thing they have going on here!” I joked, not exactly to her amusement.
“Zen?!” Shrieked Tani. “Out here?”
“Probably not the same word you’re thinking.” I shrugged. “Whatever that is.”
“Less philosophy. More shutting up!” Mina commanded.

Bee did fit. Just about. Little stones scattered as Mina squeezed us in between the leafy swirls. We touched down ever so gently, but with quite a crunch nonetheless. Bee’s feet were meant for hugging barren desert terrain, not being delicate with colour coded gravel.

“Shutting down.” Mina declared while going through procedure.
“Nicely done.” I thanked her.

The last time we stepped out of Bee, right into the heart of Ayanakert, the summer heat surprised me. Kentaken, Tani’s home and our original landing site on Andala, was so much cooler. Zuba was a lot closer to the equator than anywhere we’d been before. I quite expected a blast of tropical haze when I stepped through the door.

“What temperature is it out there?”
“Good question.” She pulled up a panel of statistics on our new location. “303 Kelvin.”
“That’s, remind me?”
“Would you like it in Celsius, Fahrenheit or Electron Volts?” She grinned as I cribbed my answer from the display myself.
“Oh, summery!” I smiled. “That’s a relief.”

The women who had watched us now settled around our ship on the ground. With the engines off, I could hear them talking. That whole other language of theirs that none of us knew.

“Tani. I want you right with me. Okay?”
“Mmm.” She nodded earnestly, with bitten lip. “Azu is all around us.”
“Yes. And you don’t upset them. Right?” I bent down to whisper. “I need your protection.”
“Yes Tani.” Added Mina. “We all do.”

How our young Ana smiled.

“So, who wants to go first?” I asked, the door already unlocked in my hands.
“You are getting the knack for it.” Said Mina. “Now is Tani’s turn.”

And so out strode Tani from our ship, head held high. The light out there was fantastic. Golden, so rich, and bronze too. Her jet black hair looked almost chestnut in the glow. I watched her from the door as she marched between what looked like olive trees. She swivelled on her heels and looked back at me, aghast. Then I heard the laughter. The august college of the Azu thought her perfectly hilarious.

“So much for that idea.” Sighed Mina. “Hold the fort.” I told her and ventured out myself.

Tani bit her tongue, I’ll give her credit, as the Azu ladies laughed around her. Even Maitel grinned, but didn’t say a word. They were all Tani’s senior, most much so, and I suppose the last being they expected to come out of so alien a vessel was an uppity Ana girl. Their cries, which neither of us could understand, masked my approach. Only when I was out in the open, did Tani point them to me.

That shut them up all right.

We stood in stunned silence for a moment. Tani gleaming, and Maitel the only one watching anybody else’s eyes. I looked at them all in turn. Boy, were they taken aback. Then I came to the lady in white. She didn’t have shock in her stare, but some other piercing thing.

“Tani. Stay still now.” I told her as the woman rushed to me, without once setting foot upon stone.
“Marie?” She welped, but did as I said.

The lady stopped right before my face, uncomfortably close. In one motion, she wrapped her left arm around behind me and put her right hand over my nose. She nudged me side to side, staring deep into my eyes.

“You must be Maigan.”
“Maigan?” She muttered in a gravelly, distracted voice. What she was really thinking about was the skin around my eyes. Our difference in appearance absolutely consumed her.
“I am Marie. Ma-Ree.” I said, while she continued pushing me around. She wasn’t rough, really, but less delicate than any other Andalan who’d grabbed my face. Of which there had been a few.
“Marie.” She mumbled, dreamily. Then, interest served, she pulled her head back to look at my whole face. “Marie?”
“Yes!” I nodded, and forced a cosy smile. She did still have a grip behind my ears.

Maitel was right by me, too. Really close, in fact. Something like a dentist’s assistant, you could say. Maigan had been so intensely in my face I didn’t even notice. They exchanged a few words, and without breaking eye contact, Maigan called to Tani.

“Tani hata stera takaytara?” Tani knows their alien language?
“Maigan hata stera Anatara?” I interrupted. Maigan knows Anatara?

Maigan curled her great eyebrows in inquisitive wonder. And tilted her own head to the other side, as she had done to mine.

“Marie stera Anatara. Maigan stera Anatara. Marie stera Maigan!” She smiled, and I knew there and then that we would get along just fine.

Their arrival in Ayanakert now complete, the crew are off to see the wizard. Told you she was coming.

I followed Mina out into the crimson dusk. For the first time since we arrived in the capital, what felt like days before, the air was cool and calm. The king’s house, Baiyana, sits down on an island in the river. It’s more or less the lowest point in Ayanakert. So nowhere can you see the clear horizon. You’re surrounded by a ring of urban mountains, instead; the audience looking in. The sky darkened as Aira set beneath the rooftops, leaving mighty Kai and its other moons to shine among the sapphire stars. Shadows fell and the people’s lights lit their windows all around us. Years had passed since we left our own world, and yet here we were in town again.

“I wonder what we will do to them.” Said Mina, almost to herself as I joined her for the sight.
“Well, there’s only four of us.” I answered, and she forced a hopeful smile.
“But look out there, Marie. Look at their little homes. The candlelight. The empty sky.” She flung her hands up to the spotless twilight above. “Listen to the silence!”

Truth be told, it wasn’t quiet. Our fellow guests chatted away nearby, and people came and went between the buildings in the distance across the water. But she had a point. Any town on Earth would have cars zipping above your head so early in the night, let alone Aria.

“What do you reckon we should do then, Mina? Given that we’re here.”
“And will be for a while.” She sighed.
“Never count out Proteus!” I assured her. “She survived. We survived. We’ll get back home.”
“Your uninformed confidence is meant to inspire me?” She smiled.
“Yes, it is!”

The captain ambled over to us, a tumbler full of water in hand. He lifted off his glasses, ocean blue, and surveyed the purple haze.

“Ain’t no damn better with ‘em on or off.”
“Kingston, just between friends, how do you rate our chances getting home?”
“Huh?” He stammered in surprise.
“I mean we’ll try anyway, of course we will. But what’s your gut feeling?”
“She been drinking?” He asked Mina with a laugh.
“I don’t think they even have alcohol here.” I replied without thinking.
“Well, seeing as we’re feeling candid. Between friends, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“I rate us about, oh, say.” He took a deep draught of water. “About a hundred percent.”
“A hundred?”
He grinned. “Give or take.”
“How so?” I demanded.
“Our engineer may be a royal pain in the ass, but he makes up for it in expertise.”
“You underestimate him.” Said Mina, a cold look on her face.
“See Chen. Even Doctor Khatami here has total confidence in our safe return.”
“You underestimate how much of a liability he is for all of us.” She told him.
“Yeah, well, y’see that’s what I mean by a hundred percent.”
“How?” I asked.
“Because there ain’t no damn way in all the circles o’ hell I’m spending the rest of my days down here with him!” He laughed. “Incentives, ladies.”

Out of instinct, we wondered there and then just where Robin was. I spotted him a good way through the mingling crowd from us, by Akanai. Naturally, the king always had people round him. But even so, I was pretty sure I saw what I just did.

“Kingston?”
“Yeah, I got him.”
“Are he and the king having a spitting contest?”
“Apparently.”

The captain left to intervene. And as he did, I noticed someone stare at him while he rushed by. Most people at the gathering had gotten at least superficially used to us by now. But this lady was perfectly startled. She wore a thick robe and cloak, as well, and looked like she’d just landed.

“Seen her before?” I asked Mina.
“No.” She said, wary to look at anyone. “She looks like Ganaks. Or his people, at least.”
“Yes, I think she’s Azu. But different, too.”

We didn’t have to wait long for our mysterious stranger to introduce herself. Ganaks intercepted her and took her to the king, who soon enough showed us.

“Akanai says she is Maitel.” Tani explained.
“My-tell?” I smiled and looked her right in her big brown eyes. She had the intense focus of most everyone we had met here, but, like Ganaks, she was no Ana.
“He says Maitel is messenger. From big teacher of Azubayeer.”
“Big teacher of Azubayeer, eh?” I grinned. “That’s the Azu city.”
“Mmm.” Tani concurred. “Azubayeer is far in Azuya. She says she take all day.”
“To reach here?”
“Azu is stupid to live where Azu live!” Tani said with satisfaction.
“Kentaken is pretty far away too, Tani.” I joked, and she pulled her triumphant grin right off her face.

Maitel was a fairly high ranked scholar in her own right. She had the freedom of Ayanakert, and knew the place quite well. But she was here on bigger business. Her superior had a message for the king. One which must be delivered in person.

“She saw what?” Kingston gasped, before Tani as much as told us.
“Dinnae be daft!” Cried Robin. “Proteus is twice as far frae here as the Earth is frae the Moon. Naebody’s makin’ out a ship at that kindae distance!”

And yet it was so. Maitel’s mentor, Tani’s so-called great teacher of Azubayeer, really had detected our ship out in its Lagrange orbit around Kai. No matter quite how impossibly faint it was for any of us to see. Maitel was sent here to warn the king about this mysterious object, in lockstep with Andala. You had to wonder what she made of us as she arrived here to find her own answer.

“Who is your great teacher, Maitel?” I asked her and Tani passed it on. The king and messenger spoke between themselves, and the fact that my crewmates translators went silent became obvious as Tani’s face, too, turned puzzled.
“Akanai speaks Azutara?” I whispered to her. She looked so cross!

Ganaks, the first Azu we had ever met, smiled a knowing smile. Akanai was all Andala’s king. Not just his own people, the Ana, but the Azu too.

“He says you go to Azubayeer.” Tani said, once she could understand again. “To see Mai… Yan.”
“Maigan.” Akanai corrected.
“Maigan?” I checked. “Yes, we really should. I’d love to know how she spotted us.”
“This the big city they’re talking about?” Asked the captain.
“I believe so.” Said Mina. “The first we detected.”
“Wherever we go, you go too.” I told Tani. “If you want to?”
“Mmm.” She sighed, in mixed concern and relief. “Azubayeer is not safe place, so you will need me. But Azu lives there, and I not speak their nonsense.”
“But Tani,” I chuckled, “learning one another’s nonsense is what we’re here for!”

Amends.

You know what they say about smell. My nose seized control of my imagination as we hurried on our way to the feast. Ganaks took us through the kitchen, which teemed with whirling staff, like they always do when food’s in final preparation. Only, this being Andala, you had to watch your head.

“What do you reckon those are?” I asked Mina, who was just as taken as I was by the untold specialities arrayed out around us.
“Is it wise to know?”

A fiery orange light lit the place, so deep a cast even perfectly ordinary foods might have looked alien to us. But it wasn’t a flame, it was the setting sun. The far end of the place opened out onto a glass covered veranda. And low to the horizon, front and centre, lay Aira: Andala’s scarlet star.

“Well, don’t know about you, but I sure been waiting for this.” Kingston stopped ahead of me, as Ganaks gave the platter bearers their orders. “So, Chen, anything we should know about etiquette?”
“Hmm?”

His big blue glasses caught my eyes. I saw myself in reflection, looking positively purple.

“You ate with ‘em already. How are they for elbows on tables, napkins, that kinda thing?”
“Nat-keens?” Wondered Tani.
“Goodness, Kingston.” I remembered fighting over dinner with Atty and Aia. “It was pretty informal!”
“No fiddly rules you can mention?”
“Not really.”
“Saying grace?” He shrugged.
“Tani, we’re eating with Akanai. What’s the ritual?”
She paused for a moment to consider. “We ask Takaraya.”

Back in Kentaken, where Tani and her family were from, life was not the same. The homes were small and their walls were thick. You really had to know your way around, as I discovered for myself. But here in the capital, and certainly the palace, glass and pointed arches showed you the way often enough. Tani flew off to her chief, who loitered rather awkwardly in the crowd beyond the kitchen. I watched her. Takaraya feigned indifference, but you could well see they were pleased to find each other; the lonely Talai of Ayanakert.

“Captain, Robin, Marie: look at this.” Mina had us gather around her while we were alone. “I have configured the pads to run basic toxicity scans.”
“Huh?” Robin wondered.
“On the food.”
“Oh, that’s smart.” I chimed. “I mean, last time I just winged it!”
“Yeah, Chen, and someday you’re gonna be, uh,” the captain grinned, “out of luck.”
“You’ve got super on these?” Robin pondered, pulling out his tablet. Mina slapped his hand.
“No showing all of them our tech!”
“So we just keep these in our pockets and they’ll, what,” asked Kingston, “sound a warning in our ears?”
“Yes, captain. And Marie’s is set to vibrate, as she lost her earpiece.”
“Thanks for warning me.”
“Good. And about this ‘basic toxicity’?”
“Obvious toxins, poisons, nonbiological compounds, active agents. The best I can do. We can’t limit just what is considered edible here. So be careful. Marie?”
“I don’t think they’re trying to poison us, Mina!”
“They need not try. The fact is they are not human. What is fine for them may be trouble for us.”
“Yep. Listen to the doc, Chen. Even if it does smell damn good.”
“Aye.” Concurred our engineer. “I’m bloody starvin’. Fingers crossed there’s something here what’s no boggin’.”
“I thought it was ‘foostie’.” I wondered.
“Naw. There’s a distinction between what’s boggin’ and what’s foostie, Miss. Chen. We’ll cross that bridge when we come tae it.”

Out in the crimson light of sunset lay the king’s other guests. Akanai was hosting more than a hundred today. Most all of them had been through this before. They were the high and mighty, Andala’s bigwigs, upper chiefs and the like I did not yet know. And I really do mean that they lay. Ana do not eat at tables, but prefer to be on their side. I couldn’t help but think of Rome. Not that there was a toga in sight.

“Ah, it’s ma favourite again!” Yelped Robin in glee before Kingston elbowed him in the ribs. Across the crowd stood the solemn man and woman again, quite naked, who I assumed were some sort of arms bearers given their staffs.
“Kataraya says Akanai has a own kind of aijin kanna.” Explained Tani as she pulled us around her chieftess. “Watch her and do what she do.”
“Aijin kanna means food ritual?”
“Mmm. Off course.” She shrugged. “But I not know what part it is.”
“There’s a first time for everything, Tani.”
“Boy, ain’t there.” Said the captain as he knelt down, nodding to Kataraya. She kept a careful eye on him, still unnerved by his mighty stature, even sitting down.

Inevitably, a circle of Andala’s nobles formed around us, to gawk at our alien appearance. Our fellow guests were just as idle as we were, waiting for the king. Tani and Takaraya preferred to pretend that they weren’t all there, behind our backs, but you could see their ears twitching when they heard some of the things those people said. Tani wanted to get up at shout back at them at one point, but Takaraya caught her by the shoulder and set her down again.

“The top dog keeps everyone waiting. Same old story.” The captain joked.
“On Andala as it is on Earth.” I agreed.
“Somethin’ like that.”
“Akanai kalikaleh!” Shouted Ganaks and his fellow laiyeen without the least bit of warning. Their calls cascaded, in order, from the far end of the sunlit space down to us. And then the crowd parted.
“Kalikaleh.” Murmured Kataraya, as she bowed her head and lifted her eyes. Tani watched her, then did precisely the same.
“Reckon we should do that?” I asked Kingston, who gave a silent no.

Standing above us now was a group of five. In the middle was the king, who had Ganaks at his right shoulder, and his son Antonaster pushed forward on his left. Flanking them were the nudes. The woman’s bellybutton right behind Robin’s twitching head.

“Akanai says Marie look at Antonaster.” Tani said, rather nervously. She knew well how I felt about him now. Takaraya’s face turned even paler than before, and she shot a real thunderbolt of a glare at me. So much for customs.

I sat upright and gazed, stony faced, into the boy’s eyes. He wasn’t at all as I expected. For the first time yet, he couldn’t bear to look straight back at me, but darted his focus from ceiling to floor. Antonaster wasn’t afraid of me, yet he squirmed in anxious disgust.

“Akanai says Antonaster has some thing to speak to you.”
“Right. Go ahead.”

But the young prince did not speak. Instead, he held out his hand. Right there in his palm was the earpiece to my translator.

“That’s mine, you know.”

Quietly, my little Anatara echo spoke between our eyes. The audience in attendance pricked their ears. And Antonaster grinned, just for one moment.

“Damnit Chen.” Groaned the captain. I’d forgotten to turn the link off.

Antonaster’s father had his hand on his boy’s arm. I didn’t see him nudge his reluctant son. But it wasn’t like the prince had a choice. My translator lifted from his hand, like a fly released from a gentle grasp. It sat there in midair, revolving a little, midway and effortlessly between us.

“Thanks.” I said and, fighting the memory of pain in my hand, I plucked it out of space.

The prince whispered something, quite beneath his breath. Akanai grumbled, almost as inaudibly. And his son, as embarassed as can be, gave me his apology.

“Kajai.” He snarled, eyes suddenly locked right on me. His father smiled, and let him go. Antonaster didn’t waste an instant. He took off like a panther.

“Jocayeen.” Shrugged the king. “Boys.”

But I only ever did meet one of them on Andala quite like him.

Yes, it’s all been Proteus, lately. Goodness, if that little ploy hasn’t grown to almost fifty chapters already, of a thousand words apiece. Not quite what I had in mind. But I shan’t repeat myself. It’s all good practice.

Instead, some inside details.

First up is quite what I meant in the latest opening:

Our welcome in Ayanakert was good and warm. Tani, our steadfast advocate then and since, caught Akanai’s agile fancy with her grandstand tales and infectious keen. The pair of them shared an instinctive curiosity, in fact, unable to leave a stone unturned once spotted. Not all Andalans, or Ana, are like this; as I’d seen for myself with Tani’s parents. So they have a name for it. Essin. Despite her rural accent and antiquated ways, the king’s household recognised Tani as Essaieen the moment she got him started. I could see it in their cringing eyes. Each spurred on the other.

This is Marie’s first mention of an idea I conjured up a while ago in Dimensions of Identity. I can’t think of a pithy introduction beyond what I wrote then and since. The concept of Essin and its identity as Essaieen is as big a deal to the Ana as good and evil is to us, or indeed possibly even gender. My intuition’s antennae are a-tingle with the possibilities, even if what I’m writing here this moment sounds too nebulous to be of much note. Let’s just say I’m working on this. And that such experiments may very well be what Proteus is for.

Then there are the statues:

“This is Anatai-kalikaleh. Akanai’s aka.” Said Tani of a statue, the first of a crescent in the hall. They were lifesized and really quite exquisitely detailed.
“His mother.” I explained. “She ruled Andala too?”
“Mm.” Said Tani, who began to name all of them. “Ankelika-kalikaleh. Anaster-kalikaleh. Kanekina-kalikaleh. And…” She paused to look back at Akanai, who waved her on. “Ayana-kalikaleh.” Said Tani, in hushed reverence at the smallest statue of the line. Little Tani almost towered over it in comparison. “They’re all women.” Observed Kingston.
“Aye, and they’ve all got the same fashion sense too.” Robin naturally dwelled on the figures lack of clothes.
“Is Akanai the first male to rule Andala?” Mina asked Tani. “The first man?”
“Mm.” She nodded. “Do not hold it up against him.”

They are of course Andala’s rulers, in reverse order back to the first. Kingston raises a good, if obvious, point. Akanai is none other than the first king of the unified tribes. Every chief before him was a queen. Not that we should hold this against him. These are modern times.

As for the statues themselves, I do have something like cult images in mind. What’s good for Sumer is often good for Andala. I’m not sure as yet quite how Akanai fits into his people’s religion, and whether his ancestors are considered godesses as such, or not. But I’m thinking about it, and so a hook left here and there is welcome enough to me.

What’s the deal with those funny numbers?

“Nai-nai-nai-nai?” Asked Akanai. Then his automated translation in our ears. “65,535?” It said, quixotically.
“Marie know number-speak yet?” Asked Tani, who I had not taught our own system.
“Bigger.” I grinned.
“Kaia!” She told him. More.
“Anka-ko-nai!?” Asked Akanai, with a raised brow. “4,294,967,295!?”
“That’s pretty damn specific.” Grumbled Kingston.
“That’s some power ae two. Near enough.” Noted Robin.

Near enough. But the base is 16. Namely hex. Nai-nai-nai-nai is the Anatara equivalent of 0xffff, or 65,535 to those of us who don’t think in bits. Take a guess at what anka-ko might then mean, given Akanai’s second stab amounts to 0xffffffff. Evidently, they have their own kind of scientific notation. Another convenient, if not too egregious, shortcut.

My notes say the actual answer to his question is 14 billion humans on Earth by 2169. And another 2 billion between Aria and Gaia, apparently, which sounds a bit high. Let’s just say Marie was right. Consistency being what matters when you are, of course, making it all up as you go along.

And finally the finale:

I showed Tani my ten digits plus three from my friend, knowing she had no idea what our numbers meant. My translator whispered its guess to me when Mina said, but I wanted to make a point.

“That many ahreni. That’s how long we took to get here from our home.”

She and Akanai looked at us, and eachother, understanding what I’d said but finding it a little hard to believe. Then Akanai muttered something and Tani laughed.

“You are old!” She giggled.
“Tell me aboot it.” Sighed Robin.
“Yes. I suppose we are.” I said. “But don’t hold it against us.”

Mina’s answer is correct. Proteus took six years, or the better part of thirteen ahreni to discover and reach Andala. But I like my tricks, and Tani’s reaction might not be to quite what Marie had in mind.

Akanai’s inquisition continues, and, inevitably, he wants to know a fair wee bit about Earth.

Our welcome in Ayanakert was good and warm. Tani, our steadfast advocate then and since, caught Akanai’s agile fancy with her grandstand tales and infectious keen. The pair of them shared an instinctive curiosity, in fact, unable to leave a stone unturned once spotted. Not all Andalans, or Ana, are like this; as I’d seen for myself with Tani’s parents. So they have a name for it. Essin. Despite her rural accent and antiquated ways, the king’s household recognised Tani as Essaieen the moment she got him started. I could see it in their cringing eyes. Each spurred on the other.

“Akanai says what number of Humani a-life. In Humaniya?” Tani asked as we walked into Akanai’s home. She spiralled around him, the very picture of amazement as she did. This was her first time in the citadel, of course.
“On Earth?” Answered the captain. “We said already. A lot of people.”
“Nai-nai-nai-nai?” Asked Akanai. Then his automated translation in our ears. “65,535?” It said, quixotically.
“Marie know number-speak yet?” Asked Tani, who I had not taught our own system.
“Bigger.” I grinned.
“Kaia!” She told him. More.
“Anka-ko-nai!?” Asked Akanai, with a raised brow. “4,294,967,295!?”
“That’s pretty damn specific.” Grumbled Kingston.
“That’s some power ae two. Near enough.” Noted Robin.
“How do you know that?” Mina asked him.
“I’m the shaman, love.”
“He’s getting closer.” I said.
“Yeah, close enough.” Replied the captain. “Next topic.”

The palace at Ayanakert, Baiyana, is not as big or grand as you might think; but the king’s house does have a lot of charm. There’s not a straight line anywhere in the building above the floor. Indeed, even those are erratic as if bickering among themselves. Everything is curved, one way or the other, or both. And yet there’s no mistaking the care put into it. I had never been anywhere that everything so clearly had its right place.

“This is Anatai-kalikaleh. Akanai’s aka.” Said Tani of a statue, the first of a crescent in the hall. They were lifesized and really quite exquisitely detailed.
“His mother.” I explained. “She ruled Andala too?”
“Mm.” Said Tani, who began to name all of them. “Ankelika-kalikaleh. Anaster-kalikaleh. Kanekina-kalikaleh. And…” She paused to look back at Akanai, who waved her on. “Ayana-kalikaleh.” Said Tani, in hushed reverence at the smallest statue of the line. Little Tani almost towered over it in comparison. “They’re all women.” Observed Kingston.
“Aye, and they’ve all got the same fashion sense too.” Robin naturally dwelled on the figures lack of clothes.
“Is Akanai the first male to rule Andala?” Mina asked Tani. “The first man?”
“Mm.” She nodded. “Do not hold it up against him.”

A row of arched windows, as airy as a colonnade, stood between us and the crowd. The captain peered out through them to our ship, beyond. Ganaks had his minions literally watching over it, as half a dozen of them were up on Bee’s roof. Kingston didn’t like this one bit, but at least the townsfolk didn’t have their countless paws all over his lander.

“You know, I thought it was gonna be bigger.” Said the captain as Akanai showed us around.
“You’ve seen this, from the pad?” I asked.
“Sure did.” Said Kingston, caught for a moment in the sight of another sculpture. This one was separate from the others, and, evidently, Akanai. “Well, some.”
“Think we’ll ever get it back from him?”
“Nope.”
“Nah.” Agreed Robin, tapping the king’s bare stone alter ego. “It’s his favourite toy. Well, one o them, I guess.”
“Robin!” Mina sighed, as he judged the statue.
“You know, I thought it was gonnae be bigger too.”

Outside, the singers sang a chant neither my translator nor I could understand. It echoed rather ominously in the hall, which Tani was by now ceiling-high in study. The song itself sounded merry and harmless, we just didn’t know exactly what was going on. In all my time on Andala, I found that their music was quite like ours. What sounds sad to a human sounds sad to Andalans too, and vice versa across most everything besides the words. Ana music is entirely choral, they have no musical instruments beyond their hands and voices, so I found their reaction in particular to our creations quite telling.

“Akanai says what time has you gone from Humaniya to Andala.” Tani shouted, she and he now a fair height above us.
“Oh, it took a while to get here.”
“Quiet, Chen.” Said the captain.
“We must be mindful of how much we tell him.” Mina agreed.
“Why? Wouldn’t it be more of a problem if our journey was a shorter one?” I wondered.
“Akanai says tell to him.” Tani called down, amidst a busy conversation between the two of them in quick-fire Anatara.
“The Pleiades are quite remote. Why not say?”
“Mina?” Kingston shrugged.
“Well, all right. Perhaps this.” And for the first time all day, Mina shot her sharp eyed grin at me.
“What’s six years, in ahreni?” I asked. “You know, the annual orbit here?”
“Twelve. Thirteen maybe.”
“Right. Can I borrow three fingers?”
“What?”

I showed Tani my ten digits plus three from my friend, knowing she had no idea what our numbers meant. My translator whispered its guess to me when Mina said, but I wanted to make a point.

“That many ahreni. That’s how long we took to get here from our home.”

She and Akanai looked at us, and eachother, understanding what I’d said but finding it a little hard to believe. Then Akanai muttered something and Tani laughed.

“You are old!” She giggled.
“Tell me aboot it.” Sighed Robin.
“Yes. I suppose we are.” I said. “But don’t hold it against us.”

Akanai thinks he sees his match among the visitors gathered in his court.

No one knew what to make of Robin’s joke. Surely no one laughed. Silence ruled a moment until the king grabbed him by the shoulders. I listened close to my translator.

“What are you?” Akanai asked, nose to nose with our engineer.
“I mind the secrets.” Said Robin, almost without hesitation. Tani passed it on.
“Henderson!” Snapped Kingston, to no avail whatever. As Akanai was now entirely intrigued.
“You are the shaman?” He said, in English echo in our ears. And Robin chuckled.
“Akanai says if Hendursang is, hard to say.” Tani paused, annoyed with herself.
“If he is a magic man?” I asked her.
“Mmm!” She thanked me, thinking I had worked this out myself. Far from it.
“Oh aye. I mean yes!” Robin smiled at Akanai.
“He’s not, Tani. He’s our engineer, the one who knows the most about tek.”
“Is this not same thing?” She wondered.
“Naw. I’m the magic man, all right. Positively shamanic! In fact all the best o us are Scots, as everybody knows.”
“Robin,” seethed the captain, “I swear I will tear you a second…”
“Mmm, kalikaleh.” Tani told her king. “He is the shaman.”

Akanai lifted his head back, his short neck adorned with a set of charms I had not seen. He looked up skyward, and heaved a sigh, then clapped his hands on Robin’s fuzzy cheeks and laughed.

“Akanai is shaman too.” Tani explained to me.
“Oh, right.”
“Yeah, well, remind him I’m the chief, would you Tani?” Said Kingston, leaning over us. “Robin’s one natural born mischief maker, and he should know that.”

But Akanai liked Robin and that was the end of it. The king saw himself in him, for a while at least. It was surely true that Robin had deep, arcane knowledge about Proteus and all our technology. He had more experience in technical minutiae than the rest of us combined, times three. To novice eyes he really was a bit of a wizard, which Tani accepted as self evident. But the king was a magic man the other way.

“We shall start a new ritual.” Akanai declared, asking Robin for his suggestions.
“Whit’s he on about?” Robin looked to me, and Akanai flew back to his courtiers.
“They’re big on rituals here. Aijin. You know, ceremonies.”
“Such as?” Robin turned to the naked woman who was watching all of this.
“Oh, don’t you worry, Robin.” The captain grabbed him and walked him back to the rest of us. “I got something in mind for you when we’re done here.”
“I do not like the sound of this at all.” Mina told me, looking pale and worried.
“Trust me, Mina, there’s nothing to worry about. He probably means a celebration.”
“Akanai start more aijin than any kalika after Ayana.” Said Tani.
“The king can invent new aijin?”
“Mmm. All chief can call new aijin.”
“Takaraya can too?” I looked for Tani’s own chief, and spotted her a good distance back, craning her neck to keep an eye on us.
“But only on way down.” Tani wiggled her fingers like rain.
“Only for those they rule over? So the chief of all chiefs can make a new aijin that everyone must follow?”
“Mm!”
“Akanai must enjoy his power.”
“Akanai is busy. This we say.” Tani rolled her eyes.

The assembled retainers didn’t look like they fancied a party. In fact, I got the feeling they tired of Akanai’s enthusiasm. The king was really off on one now that we were here and he thought he saw his equal. Assistants flew in and out of view, solemnly taking orders. There was no doubt just who was in charge.

But one lone little voice did speak against him.

I could hardly hear the words above the chattering crowd. But my translator caught it well enough, and spoke quite clear. I shan’t forget it.

“We should kill them while we have the chance.”

I spun around in fright to see. It was the boy. Akanai’s little replica, down to his black costume, styled from the king’s deep blue.

“Jaika.” He said. “Father.”

Mina gasped, and I noticed every one of us was glaring at the boy. We all heard the same thing, of course. Tani trembled, too fearful to tell.

“Why would we do that, Antonasteer?” Said Akanai to his son.
“There will be more of them. When they hear about Andala, nothing will stop them.”

The boy’s stare switched between his father and each one of us as he spoke. He wasn’t any older than Tani’s little sister Atty, indeed I’m sure he was smaller than the girl, but he thought in chilling clarity. Akanai was not at all surprised by what he said, nor was he the least bit condescending to the child. In fact in all the time I saw them, the king treated his son just like an adult. The tiniest one I would ever know.

“You see their aner. We do not need to fear them.”
“I see their tek. I hear their number. Who journeys where, father? Who discovers who?”
“We will learn. As Ana learned from Azu. We do not need to fear them.”
“But now, Akanai-eh. While we still can!”

The four of us stood in silent astonishment as our earpieces eavesdropped on the conversation. Ever since we met Tani, we had argued amongst ourselves the best way to handle the secret of our technology here on Andala. But now the tables were turned. Our Andalan hosts had their own agenda, and debate, as we listened.

“Akanai and Antonaster talk about tek and aner.” Said Tani, unaware we could hear this for ourselves.
“Antonaster?” I asked her. “Didn’t Akanai call him Antonasteer?”
“Marie not say this!” Tani yelped. “Only Akanai, his jaika, say him that way.”
“Oh, and the same applies with Akanai-eh?”
“Marie not keep say this either!” She held my cheeks in protective exasperation, as I’d seen her do with the children in her class.
“Got it, Tani. But why aren’t there rules like that in your family?”
“Talai is no Ayana.” She whispered. “Anger Talai, fear Talai. Anger Ayana, fear all Andala.”
“Right. Probably better not then. I’ll warn the rest.”

Father and son did not speak for long, and I missed their conclusion. But the fact I’m still alive to write this says enough itself.

Marie stands before Andala’s king.

“Marie, you must be calm. You must look. Look!” Tani grabbed my shoulders.
“What?”
“Look into his eyes.” She said, staring square in mine.
“Will do.”

She pulled me, very almost off my feet, towards the palace; the house they call Baiyana. She swept me through the gathered singers, who caught me with curious glances. And she placed me down before the quiet man, cross-legged on the ground. He alone did not stare at us.

“Akanai!” She whispered, turning me by the cheeks to show him.
“I know.”
“When he looks, Marie looks.”
“Right, Tani, I’ve got it.”

Eye contact is a pretty big deal among Ana. Tani’s fearless stare was the very first thing I saw of her, and I took some time to learn to match her back. Most humans don’t much like you gazing long and hard into their eyes, not for minutes at a time, and I didn’t either before I met her. But Tani’s people were different. There was no shaking off their inquisitive eyes. Indeed, they’d always wonder what the matter was if you didn’t answer their gaze with the same. Standing there, looking down on the top of the king’s head, I imagined quite how vital a sign of respect it must be to stay with his, of all eyes.

“Kalikaleh?” Tani asked him in a fearful voice.
“Kina?” He answered with a smile. The Ana word for daughter. Then he fixed his gaze on me.

The first thing I saw in Akanai was just how young he was. The way Tani and Takaraya spoke of him, I’d expected a fearsome man, a great and storied leader; yet here he was, younger than me. Physically, Akanai was somewhere in the middle of the people here I saw. He was fairly small, surely compared to his right hand Ganaks, and he was lightweight quite like Tani. But he did have the most luxurious head of hair I’d ever seen on a grown man. Thick and deep jet black, it started from a point above his eyebrows and just kept going almost like a mighty ice-cream cone. You could see his bony temples, broader and more apparent than Tani’s, but after that it was all this singular obelisk which must have been a nightmare to keep in order, so I guessed. Not that I had long to get the gist of his appearance. Good to Tani’s word, I stared back into his big black eyes, wondering where his irises were and quite when he would blink.

Tani held me like an outsized toy and explained to him who I was and what I was like in a hectic babble my earpiece couldn’t quite keep up with. She was usually so confident, and clear, but being this close to Akanai unnerved her. Not least the fact that he was staring at me instead of her. She sounded anxious, and I wanted to break from the man’s eyes, but knowing better I clutched her arm instead. Even among Ana, you are free to blink, yet I felt so strange locked here in his sight that I doubt I did.

“Ma Ree?” He said, halting Tani on the spot.
“Kadeski Marie.” I said, with a smile and some relief.
“Anatara!” He grinned. And then, without the least of effort, he was up in front of me and gave me the traditional Ana hug.
“Tani-taken hata stertara ay Ana?” Tani of Kentaken taught you to speak like us?
“Mm.” I answered. And paid my compliment. “Tani kasteer.” She is very good.

Suddenly, I felt a hand across my mouth. It was Tani’s. I fought to pull her away, but kept my eyes on Akanai, as she’d recommended. Tani apologised for my apparent faux pas, which the king himself shrugged off as nothing. His courtiers quietly complained for him.

“Tani, maybe you should translate for us?”
“Marie! Jai takaytara!” She scowled as I kept pace with Akanai’s epic stare. She didn’t want to upset him with the sound of my foreign language.
“Takaytara?” He wondered. “Ma Ree tara ay, ay…”
“Humani.” I said.
“Mm! Ma Ree tara ay ‘humanayeen’. Na stera tara.” Marie speaks as humans speak. We ought to hear this.

And so I did. I told him there were four of us, that we came from a world beyond Kai, Aira and the brightest stars. And I told him that our purpose was to learn whatever we could of Andala. I listened closely as Tani relayed my lines, and my own translator whispered the inverse in my ear. She stayed true to my story, and Akanai clearly liked it. His eyes bulged at the idea that people lived beyond Andala. He had questions, all right! He was just as curious about us as we were in him.

“Oh, I will tell you about the other human worlds. But can I introduce my friends first? And, Tani, when can I break my stare?”
“Not now!” She commanded, then duly asked Akanai if I could fetch my friends. Only when he answered yes, did Tani lastly give permission. Goodness, I must have been staring at the man for half an hour!

I walked back down to Bee, trying to shake the crick from my neck as I did. What a relief! My eyes felt dazzled by all the people watching me, in every gaze the same potential snare as the king’s.

I daren’t look back.

Who are you, Ganaks?

I thought I had this man figured out. Ganaks may be big, but he shared the same squeamish shame as I did before we all plunged into the water. He and I weren’t used to this. Unlike the dozen girls around me who had bathed together out in the lake countless times before. I reckoned I could turn this to my favour.

“Yes, you! Ganaks. Over here!” I called him to the sandy shore where I walked on out.

True enough, big bad Ganaks was far from his element. He swept along the water’s edge, just above it, and passed right by me before coming to a stop. That way he could have his back turned on the whole lot of us at once. I strode on up behind him, stepping through our piles of clothes, and grabbed his shoulder. He didn’t flinch, but he did say something to me I couldn’t hope to understand.

“Thara soriou ayai Azna, karend?”
“What? That’s not Anatara. Ganaks tara ja Anatara. Ganaks ja ay Anaya. You aren’t Ana, are you?”
“Jai.” He grinned, looking down across me. “Ma-Ree ja ay Anaya.”
“You know my name?”

Often, the signals people give on Andala aren’t quite the same as ours. But Ganaks waved Tani to come over by curling a finger, just as I might.

“Thara soriou ayai Azna, karend? Cha, na. Choryu, Naya.” He said to me, trying to keep his eyes on the ground, but not quite. This wasn’t Anatara, but his native tongue instead. It had different sounds to those I’d heard from Tani and her people, and a distinct rhythm too. When he did speak in Ana, his accent carried this, his true voice’s beat.

“Anax.” Said Tani, standing by me, still quite reverent.
“Akanai, kasteer ay na, hata kasta ay Tani ay Talai.” Said Ganaks. “Akanai turns his ear to you.”
“La! So ika? So ki?” She squealed.
“Mm. Akanai tara, Andala ai ata.” Huffed Ganaks, then looked at her and grinned that knowing grin of his. “What Akanai says, Andala does.”

Far from being in trouble, the king wanted to see us. Takaraya, the chief, was right. By taking evidence of our arrival straight to the capital, she caught the notice of Akanai himself. Ganaks, his right hand man, was here to fetch us.

Tani’s enthusiasm was infectious. Hardly anyone out here in Kentaken ever got to meet the king. Even Takaraya had only seen him once before. Tani danced around Ganaks in glee, soon joined by her sisters and all the rest of them, who struck up a song. Ganaks gritted his teeth and blushed, as not a single one of them put on any clothes. I was the first to break rank.

“Ma-Ree jai kasteer Anatara.” He said to me, as he helped me pick up my clearly non-Andalan kit. “You don’t know much Anatara.”
“Mm.” I shrugged. “I do what I can.”
“Ganaks jai kasteer Anatara!” He chuckled. The Ana could always tell we weren’t naturals at their language.

So it turned out that Ganaks was in fact a gentleman. Or as close as Andala gets, anyway. He held my clothes for me and helped me dress, all while trying to avert his eyes. His curiosity did get the better of him though when it came to my bra, as apparently neither the Talai nor the people of great Ayanakert had invented them. He held it up, inside out, wondering what it was. When I put it on, a great smirk shot across his face and he chuckled at the very thought of it.

Once I’d done up my bright white worksuit, I offered him my handshake. No one knew what I was on about every time I’d tried this so far, but Ganaks almost did it right. He grabbed my hand and, as I shook it up and down, he stared at me with curiosity large in his eyes.

“Thanks.”
“Thanks.” He echoed, flawlessly. No Ana could speak like that. Tani was sure I was forever saying “Tanks.”

The aijin aikalika now officially over, the girls and women got dressed, putting Ganaks back at ease. I noticed they had damp clothes but dry hair, quite the opposite of me with my resilient suit. Tani slapped her hand on the top of my head as we were talking, which I found quite odd, but once she was done some moments later, my drips were neatly gone. She and Ganaks were discussing Bee.

“He knows about the others?”
“Mm. Tek says to Akanai all about it.”
“Right. I wonder what the captain and the king have already talked about.”
“Anax says what ever Tek did, Akanai want to meet all you.”
“Anax?” I asked Tani, pointing at our new friend. “Why do you call him that?”
“Anax is his name.” She shrugged.
“Ganaks!” I said. Which caught his notice.
“Anax!” Snapped Tani.
“Ganaks! That’s what he calls himself. Right?” I slapped him on the back. “Deski?”
“Ganaks.” He smiled. “Periso kola Azna.” Tani fixed him an evil eye.
“Azna?” I wondered.
“Azu.” He said to me. “Tarata Ana. Azna perino Azna.”
“Tani?”
“He talk his Azu non sense speak!”
“Azu?”
“Mm. Azu.” Said the pair of them together, in their discordant accents.

Ganaks wanted to take Tani and myself out to Bee. There we would join my crewmates, and all of us would head to Ayanakert together. Tani gathered her sisters to say goodbye, which, much to my surprise, sent the mischievous duo straight to tears.

“Tani!” They cried, clinging to her legs. She tried to shake them off, with clumsy motions like she wore a pair of heavy boots. I must admit it made me laugh. And Ganaks.

Tani asked them if they wanted to come with us. If they wanted to see three more takayeen. Two of which were even bigger than me. Atty gasped at the thought. But Aia was intrigued. The two bickered for a minute, still clinging to their big sister’s thighs.

“Tell them we’ll come back here to see everyone again when we can.” I suggested. But Tani looked concerned, as if she was just as fearful of leaving her home as Atty. “Look, you can stay and I can go with Ganaks, if you like. He’s fine.”
“No Marie! I come with. You never understand Ayanakert not with me.” And she squeezed them off, grabbing each sister by the head. But in just a second they were all together in a hug, Tani crouched over them, protective to the last. I could have sworn that the whole trio cried.

I smiled at Ganaks, who looked on with me.

“Ana.” He shrugged.

Marie’s first taste of the Ana love affair with water. And an Azu, too.

Ritual rules Andala. It underlies almost everything between the Ana. The aijin aikalika is a ritual of the lake. A cleansing ritual, and quite possibly the Ana’s favourite kind. Tani’s village was on an island for many reasons. Fresh water from the Aykataliya river, a natural defence from harm, and a pleasant cool in the summer heat as well as a sunken forest shelter from the harshest winter’s cold. But above all that for the Talai was the ritual significance of the steady water itself. Symbolic meaning quite beyond what Tani could explain to me as yet.

No surprise then that, among Ana, bathing is considered a vital social event. Though it surely caught me out.

“What do you mean? Right here? Right now? Like this!”
“Mmm.” Said Tani in perfect nonchalance as she stripped naked along with the other girls. It rained clothes on me, as they cast them off above the tiny beachy islet where I stood.
“I’m not used to doing this in public.”
“Pub-nic?” Tani stammered as she realised I was staring at her. The studs and piercings she had above her collar went down further than I thought.
“Sorry, look, I really ought not be here.”
“Marie.” She held my face as she had done with cheeky Amaram. “No pain. Only aikalika. It is all good!”

True enough, I looked around and could see only friends here. Even Atty, my miniature bête noire, had a perfect look of innocence as she waited just above the water. We all must go together, clearly. I resigned myself to my bitterly self-conscious fate and undid my worksuit which Tani put aside for me.

“Right. So do I just step in or is this an airborne thing?”

Tani held me back. No one else had a damn thing on, and I would not be spared my underwear. Well, it was worth a shot.

As I made myself their equal, I couldn’t help but squirm at the all the focus on me. My goodness, they were all so thin, and all the more striking like this. I was bigger than any of them, in stature and all the more in weight. It was quite apparent that I was the largest they’d seen anyone, in any dimension, as sylphlike as they each and every were. Then there was the matter of the ornaments. Tani and the other teens had the most of them. Little jewels and tiny metal amulets attached here and there upon her. And they reached the furthest, so to speak, as she had them run down along her sides, and they pierced her nipples and pudendum, I noted as an anthropologist! The youngsters had only their ears and noses pierced, and the smaller studs were just as less in number. I wondered what they were meant to mean, and my audience wondered just as strongly in return why I hadn’t a single one of them.

“Marie!” Tani muttered softly. “Is Marie not a woman?”
“Of course I am! We just don’t do all that stuff where I’m from. I don’t, anyway.”

The bathing rite starts with the eldest woman present, and I presume it works the same way with the men. She presents a symbol to the water. Then everyone says the magic words, and they all plunge in. Despite my newborn baby level of ornamentation, the girls could all tell I was the eldest present in our party, so there was some debate whether I should kick things off.

“Take!” Tani pressed a talisman into my hands. It seemed to glow with heat. “Marie do as I do.”
“Okay.”

She lifted me up in the unsettling manner I knew I should be getting used to by now. And, just over the gently lapping water, she held out her empty hands to show me what to do.

“Ai! Aijin ai!” She shouted with a smile, and so did I.
“Aijin ai aikalika, kali aykera! Kali aykila-kalikera!” What a mouthful! Though it had a rhythm to it, and I seemed to get it right. Then she gestured that I plunge the talisman beneath the rippling surface, and I did. Then she pushed me in, and every last one of us piled into the water with a squeal.

The weirdest thing was that it was so warm. When I pushed my hands in, the water was quite cold, and if I wasn’t as caught up in the moment I might have leapt back then and there. But just a second later, when we took the plunge, the lake felt like a cosy bathtub. My scientific mind perplexed as the rest of me enjoyed the soak. Boisterous as it was, with the busy voices of my friends in the soothing water.

“Oh now this is more like it! I haven’t had a good bath since Proteus.”
“Marie sees? It is all good. It is aikalika.”
“That it is. You do this often then?”
“Off course! What anything is bad, aikalika is the cure.”
“So it’s a renewal thing?” Tani hadn’t the foggiest what I was on about, and rolled me around to wash my hair instead. “I’ll take that as a maybe.”

We could just see the village from where we were. The traditional washing spot for the women was close to the lake’s far edge, forbidden to both general use and most especially men. They had their own place, naturally enough, on the flip side of the island. I really enjoyed the hour or two we spent as total equals, bobbing in the soapy water. That was the most serene I ever saw the Talai. And I could feel precisely why.

“Marie, the thing?”
“The thing?” I asked her. Surely among the most useful and misused of English words.
“The thing.” Tani held her open palm to me.
“Oh, right, the amulet. Here.” I pulled the little trinket from my pinkie, where it fit like a tight ring.
“Important!” She smiled. “Marie can not lose this or Tani must become woman all again.” And she dived beneath the surface to hitch what was apparently her key ornament back in place.
“You wear that? There!”
“Mm.” She grinned, amused at my surprise. “One day Marie must grow up to become woman too!”

While Tani laughed, Atty sneaked behind her and sent a wave of froth forward from her hands far stronger than I thought even possible. Tani spun around to face it, foam clinging to her eyelids, and fought back with more of the same. A bit of a riot ensued, and, backing away as I was quite defenceless, it was then that I saw our uninvited guest.

A man, bigger than me, flew into sight in that way you can only expect on Andala. He immediately struck me as the odd one out. Male, obviously, but also no Ana. He was well built, tall and strong if not exactly heavy. In fact what got me on first sight of this guy was that he was more like a human than he was the women in the water.

And shy, too.

“Kadeski Ganaks, ata ay Akanai.” He said, back turned to all of us. His accent caught my ear as much as theirs.
“Lai!” The girls screamed. Ganaks had caught the lot of them by surprise.
“Anax?” Asked Tani, looking fearful. “Ata ay…”
“ay Akanai.” Repeated Ganaks, apparently quite used to a stunned response. “Mm.”
“Kasteer Anax, ata ay Akanai, ata ay Ayana-kalikaleh!” The girls all chanted, in something like a mix of reverence and a cheer. I had to figure this fellow was important.
“Kolia ‘Ta-ni?’” He asked them.

The girls looked at Tani without a word. She was in deep trouble, so it seemed. Ganaks peeked around to see what was going on.

“Tani?”
“Mm.” She said, her shoulders hunched into the water.

Ganaks chuckled quietly to himself. At the sight of these women and girls, nude as the day they were born. Each one stunned at his mere appearance, out here at their home. And then the sight of the one he had been sent for, who almost vanished back into the water. But he realised we were looking too, and he shied away.

“Tani ay Talai?” Ganaks asked, his back turned again.
“Mm.” She sighed, resigned to her fate. I got a chill down my spine.
“What’s all this about? If you’re after anyone, it’s me.” I shouted over. And, boy, did they ever all stare at yours truly.