Eighteen

I had just gotten comfortable, my mind busily chomping away at the events of the day, when Sarah declared the night to be over. With a moan I dropped out of bed and immediately remembered why I had cut that habit.

"Bother."

The floor did not reply. It was likely not a morning person either. After getting Sarah settled, I stumbled into the bathroom. It was still huge. Half of it was still empty. The woman in the mirror looked done for. I wondered how well Chiss would be able to read my looks. At least the skin under my eyes now was somewhat blue. They should appreciate that.

I was the first to breakfast, too. The table was set and as soon as I slumped down in a chair I got tea. Mumbling something that might have been language I stared into the cup. How long until I could drink konot again? Thkela kept inquiring after Sarah's eating habits and seemed more or less taken aback by the fact my daughter showed no signs of interest in 'real' food. Oh, she'd grab it and chew on it and drool all over it. But then she'd just drop it.

Right now I gave her foods that didn't fall apart when drenched and were not full of sugar. She bounced the bread-like stuff off the table top repeatedly, leaving wet spots. I had no idea how to wean a child anyway. I just hoped that eating what the adults ate would be more appealing to her one day. Even though it wasn't even appealing to me right now. The thumping was annoying and I wondered if any of the drinks I had had the night before had contained alcohol. It had not tasted like it, but then there were cocktails. And did Chiss even react to alcohol the way humans did?

I slogged my way though my first cup of tea. Then I took the refill, Sarah and a Tchena fruit to my favourite spot in the garden. I left Sarah to explore the grass though I had to keep an eye on her somewhat because she had decided it was time to move herself. Still she was not sure if she was a dachshund or a seal.

I sipped on my tea, slowly eating the yellow fruit. It was not quite the same as sitting outside and enjoying an early morning. There was no sunrise, no slanting light, no early birds. No breeze moved the low branches of teal-grey leaves. I had hoped that being sheltered under the high dome of branches I could pretend, but it had turned out I could not. I was only better at ignoring the fact that the light was always the same.

Sarah had managed to reach the fringe of branches sweeping the floor and was testing if she could topple the tree if only she pulled hard enough. I got up to crouch beside her, just in case she wanted to eat her defeated enemy. I was not sure how edible the leaves would be. Instead I gave her the stone of the Tencha and let her chew on that. Nothing was happening in spades this morning. I felt like going back to bed.

Of course that was not to be. Thorra, Thirba, and Thkela still had an axe to grind with me for my impossible behaviour. I was not surprised when Rukh came to summon me. I handed over my daughter who squealed with joy to have her personal teddy back.

Maybe I should have inquired more closely. Instead I was very surprised to find Aden wait for me. He held out his hand, presenting a small stack of cards. I curled my fingers in question.

"You better answer them," he explained. "The calls are all from persons ranking higher than you."

"Don't you say!" I pasted surprise all over me.

He dropped the cards in my hand and left. There was probably a lot of cleaning up still to do after yesterday. I browsed through the cards and realised they were actually some kind of floppy disk. Most of them were burgundy, but there was some red and a sprinkle of assorted rainbow among them. I might not be good enough to talk to in public, but leaving me demanding messages would hurt no one.

I trudged up to my study stacking the cards next to the reader. Social life, here I come. I should not have felt so dejected. Slipping the first card into the slot, I got a name, designation and expected type of reply. Mitth'ike'rembod would like an appointment for a conversation via comms. Well, I could oblige. I offered a few times to chose from because that was polite. As it turned out, I did not have to get the card to him somehow. Once I had done the replying, the card went white and dormant. Neat system, actually,

Thubal was inquiring after my well-being. I sent him a long note of thanks indicating that he might call or visit if he ever felt so inclined. Not that I thought he would. It was not done. If anybody was to go anywhere, that would be me. And I would have to make a lot of visits until anybody would stoop to see me. Those inferior moved their sorry butts. Exceptions were great receptions the like I had just experienced and visitors with no homes on the planet they stayed on. Talk about mixed signals.

It took me some time to realise that if you knew how to look, the colours of the cards already told you who they were from. I would have to practice that. Guessing would not always help me, and there were just so many minor branches of any family that I needed to be more specific than that.

At least comm calls were highly appropriate for anybody who lived off-world. The few who had been present yesterday but would leave again soon were in an advantageous position. They could indulge their curiosity as well as keep their distance. Maybe I could get some invitations from them. Now that would be something to look forward to: getting out from under the ice and seeing some real sky again.

I put my head in my hands. It hadn't been six months yet, and I already had gotten into a paddy about the lack of sky. This might be a very, very long stay. It was a bit of a disappointment to find that the red card was not from Okara. That's what you got for getting your hopes up. Instead Nuruodo'det'taram inquired after me. I sent her a polite reply with the usual trimmings.

That done, I felt ready to indulge in some self-pity. I had gotten as far as my stock of chocolate, when it was time to meet Thorra after all. I decided to leave the chocolate until after, certain I'd need it even more then.

It was quite unfair, I decided, that I could not tell if Thorra showed any signs of fatigue. Her skin was of the usual smooth blue, no darker shades under the eyes, no sagging corners of her mouth, her lor'kina tight as always. In comparison I must have looked like a heap of shit. Provided Chiss could tell signs of human fatigue. I hope that worked somehow in my favour and made sure my body language was as snappy as it got.

"I assume the requests for contact have reached you," she began.

I raised my arms a little, lowered my head a little, kept silent. Since I didn't know where this was going, I would be careful.

"How did you answer them?"

How did she know I had done that already? I didn't want to believe everybody knew what I was going to do all the time and decided on some kind of logbook for outgoing messages. "As is proper, Mitth'orr'arash," I replied. "Indicating my current inability to go anywhere because of the traditions of my people."

"Good. At least in this you display intelligence." She shook her head curtly in my direction. "You now have access to the schedule of the House. If you are to attend any of the appointments scheduled, we will let you know."

Well, that was indeed important to me. I got to know what was going on, but could do nothing but sulk if not invited. It sounded like a lovely prospect. Still I accepted in silence with a slice of gratitude.

"You appointments will be listed in your own column. Make sure they do no overlap with important appointments of the House."

Another agreement from me. Though I had no idea what that about overlapping was. Nobody would be scatterbrained enough to schedule an appointment with me at the same time as with somebody else of the House. I mean, okay, I would, but we were talking Chiss here.

"Aden will now take you to our storage. Let him mark the items you want and let him know where you want them. He will see to it." And with that I was dismissed.

No rant about pathetically breaking into tears for no reason. No berating for making a spectacle of myself. Not a word about how I didn't bring honour to the house. Or dishonour unto my cow. I was perplexed. Somehow I did not believe in the least that my little problem had gone unnoticed. How I hated those mind games.

Storage was not even off the compound. Some very sneaky bastard had thought it a waste of perfectly good space to have only dirt under the gardens. So he had tunnelled the ground like Swiss cheese. Neat corridors with white walls led into a most orderly labyrinth. I was glad I could rely on our steward to find out again or might never have been seen again.

At last he unlocked a door, threw a light switch and I was confronted with the packed up remains of the former life of my probably-husband. It was not much. Boxes, a little furniture, stacks of paintings. I would need time to look at all of it. I asked Aden if he could collect me later, because I really didn't want to detain him that long.

Left alone, I took a moment to lean against the wall and stare. So this was what afterlife looked like. I didn't like it. I knew I would have to start with the paintings. Personal as they might be for my Admiralship, I could judge them on my simple scale of pretty to urgh. I wandered along the small aisle to get a better idea of how much stuff there was. Around the last corner I took advantage of the wall again, leaning against it rather suddenly.

Hidden in the last corner, or maybe brought in first because of its size was one of those heater-pianos. Swallowing and licking my lips I approached it cautiously. There were not many good reasons to keep something like that. It was definitely not the one that guy in black had been playing at the reception, either. That had been of a dark blue-ish brown. This one was of a rather showy white. I touched one of the thick curves lightly, ran my hand down the keyboard.

I'd never be able to play that. Not that it mattered. "Mine," I murmured. Maybe Sarah would decide to go for an instrument when she was older. Maybe I'd just stare at it mournfully from time to time. Or I could track down the player from the evening before. A Kres, there was definitely only a limited number of them. Or I could just ask who he had been. The thought alone embarrassed me.

The paintings were mostly half-abstract; I was not sure if they were even all of Chiss origin. Thinking of my empty wall, I decided to bring some of them, because where else would I get any? If I waited until I created something worthwhile, I'd die with empty walls. So I picked, in human terms, a David Reed, a William Turner and a Günther Uecker for my rooms. I would have to research their true artists and names though. I was certain people would inquire.

The boxes held another surprise. There was obviously nothing much worth keeping from Thrawn apart from an extensive collection of sculptures. If he had had half of them displayed at once, the whole flat would have been drowned, each flat surface covered. I hadn't known my husband to be a hamster.

Since I had a lot of empty shelves and no idea how to fill them, I went ahead and chose about twenty sculptures. None would go onto the floor, though. Sarah was getting good at getting away and the last thing I needed was a sculpture falling on her. One or two would have made acceptable toys, but I wasn't sure if abusing art this way wouldn't be heavily frowned upon. The few personal items included the equivalent of books, all of which I would bring up to fill the shelves, maybe I'd even read them. There were what looked like decorations which I left where they were and undefinable things of definitely alien origin. I might return to those once I had a better grasp of what kind of alien things aliens in these parts created and for what alien purpose.

Aden accepted my list without questions. I told him, I'd make space in the shared parlour for the huge-instrument-thingy.

"It is called kal'yenok'tar," he corrected me.

I promised myself to untangle that mess of a name later, though I was quite certain that there word 'voice' was hidden in it. And a mightily fine voice it had. "Thank you," I said and followed him back up.

And this is the reason I didn't update here.

David Reed: .

William Turner: . /_Wor00CYm4U0/Sbte65amu5I/AAAAAAAABHo/ho1Oq7N1unc/s400/turner+

Günther Uecker: /fileadmin/uecker/ueckerdia/Guenther_