|33|
Following the others, Roun disembarked The Duke and stepped into a thin wetness about the docks. Feron and Aaron guided the cryo-containment with Dahnna inside. Stepping down each stairdisc one at a time, Laura's boots impacted the puddle veneers with the others. She had the fetus in her arms, contained in the special capsule. The third disc down, Roun posed as if to wait—and see what came from an hourglass structure with a beehive door at its center and base.
"Hanari," he whispered, "…by mithra."
The floaters from the hourglass structure circled around the receptacle for Dahnna. Roun descended and strode forward to them, earning The Duke's crew a set of gasps.
"Roun, stop—"
He spoke directly to the hanar—floating tendrils lifting thickly through invisible currents supporting the cumbersome domes above. "I am Roun Krios," the pulse of light patterned throughout the thickly tendriled bodies, "…Pardon my lack of etiquette, I know this may be construed as impolite my manner of addressing you. This drellahna and the incident of her womb have been taken far from Rakhic soil….I insist to know why."
A pulse of light passed through the circle, bouncing from one side to the other of hanari. A distant voice rang from bell of head and body, "….Crew of The Duke, what is the meaning of bringing this one to what no purpose exists for?"
"Speak to me and answer…" Roun turned his face to a movement: Laura was passing off the fetus pod, her eyes down as another hanar entwined it with strong tentacles. "No, wait—"
"These ones may collect their bounties."
"What bounties?" Snaring Roun by elbows and knees, the hanar glowed violet and lifted him off the dock.
"Let him go," Laura demanded, wrenching the fetus pod away, "….He's friend with the deceased."
"This one offends."
"Don't take it personally," coaxed Aaron, calm amid the turbulence, "…he's confused….Hurt about the loss."
The hanar's violet calmed to a pink hue, "….This one suffers loss?"
"Let him down and let him ask his questions…It will help him grieve."
Dropped loose of the tentacles, Roun landed on his back—Feron suppressed a snigger.
"Thanks," Roun brushed off the damp from his clothes, "…if I were to express the idea of how to mourn her, where would you suggest I direct my grief."
"Direct all mourning to the amphitheater—none are allowed in Sybilla."
"Sybilla Archives?"
"All dead are uplifted in the archive."
"What is the uplift?"
The hanar floated higher. "Steam from the vents of Sybilla shall consume the body, freeing the spirit to join the Great Encompassing…her memory will be preserved in the species she will feed."
"That's not much of an uplifting end."
"That is the uplift."
"I don't like it."
Laura interjected, "…Roun, you're holding us up."
"Why can't she be buried on Rakhana?"
"The one named Dahnna Kiross will attract drells and drellahnas of a nature intent to serve…Kahje will be a summons to those who follow and worship her."
"That's preposterous—" Roun shut off. He had followed her. "Damn…."
"More will come, less the age, and Kahje will start the new civilization it promises."
"The Compact only lottoes so many," Roun objected, "…if you want more drellkind to immigrate, why hold so few lottos?"
"The Rakhic must be filtered…These ones take those who are highly valued and spawned through the habitats to develop the programs necessary."
"Programs….the lottos are rigged?"
"The lotteries are designed to filter good from nondesirable products that will be assimilated with the present populations under these ones' care."
"You're doing that….why?"
"We have limited resources." Feron spoke. He shrugged. "Primacy wants the best of us…and they're resourceful—they want drells and drellahnas to give back for the cost of living here and being provided for….That's the tenet of the Compact—scratch my back, we'll scratch yours."
"But it's duplicitous!"
"These ones see no harm—"
"You're cherrypicking," Laura said, "….and there are probably families on Rakhana that need the life offered here."
"Thank you!" Roun turned from Laura—the hanari were floating away with the pods. "Wait, I'm not finished—" the tentacle smacked deadcenter his chest. He flew backwards.
"No more delay," the hanar left him thrashing in a deep puddle.
"I'll go with them," Feron told Aaron and Laura, "…you guys help him into the ship."
"Find out if the bounties for the deliveries are actually what they promised," Laura said.
"I'll handle it," Feron kissed her and left.
Hands cool in a puddle, Roun lingered in his bewilderment…"Kahje's no better than Rakhana…."
"It's not?"
"It must be drier…"
Roun smiled bitterly. "Dry, indeed."