Echoes of the Ancients

Echoes of the Ancients

Isabel Pelech

Distributed by Smashwords

Copyright 2017 Isabel Pelech

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Table of Contents

Part I Chapter 1

Part I Chapter 2

Part I Chapter 3

Part I Chapter 4

Part II Chapter 1

Part II Chapter 2

Part II Chapter 3

Part II Chapter 4

Part II Chapter 5

Part III Chapter 1

Part III Chapter 2

Part III Chapter 3

Part III Chapter 4

Glossary

Author’s Note

Part I

1

Just a few hours from the Ruiva system, Lutéa gathered up her courage and decided to mingle with the passengers.

She was not exactly a passenger on the starship Tenzenai's Gift, a luxury liner which carried a good five thousand passengers, several hundred staff, and probably at least a thousand robots, although none of them were Ideka Constructs and thus impossible to engage in conversation. Lutéa had been staving off boredom by poking around the ship's data library, which was mostly full of glowing prose about Tenzenai's Gift, the company that created it, and the Chehiris Group, which owned both that company and Ideka Cybernetics. She now knew, for instance, when the Gift had been built (1148 Viaz Standard). She knew that even though it had been built in the Andvori Yards—the best shipbuilders on Viaz, apparently—the Group had specifically hired a lom physicist to create the spacechanger engines, and then had them retooled by the quar design team. Since the physicist had previously worked for the Ohiti Protectorate (Lutéa could feel her brain beginning to grind a little at this point) this allowed the Group to claim that the Gift featured the latest in ohiti engineering while also sporting the nativist seal of approval.

This struck Lutéa as unusually devious for real sapients. She wondered why they bothered.

After she'd been on the Gift for more than ten days, she got restless enough to look at the brochures for her own planet, Jianevra. The library said that Jianevra was a sultry ocean planet (true, so long as sultry meant quite hot) where sapients could enjoy beautiful tropical islands (which was only true if you stretched the definition of tropical to also mean quite hot). The weather satellites insured that travelers wouldn't be bothered by the extreme storms typical of ocean planets. There were dazzling silicate reefs, viewable by bathysphere, diving excursion, or from the windows of the Ocean Wonderland Hotel. The planet sported a startling array of winged fishoids, including the galaxy's only known family of ichthyic pollinators, the needlebeakfish. And the planet featured a series of Theme Islands, based on classic literature and movies, where sapients could play at sailing with Captain Vrenir or visiting the royal court of Lir Dahanat. There was, of course, no actual danger. All their needs, any possible need, would be met by the revolutionary Ideka Constructs, which—

At this point, Lutéa flipped the console shut quite hard and then apologized to it.

It was obvious that she had to do something to keep herself from going crazy hiding in the storerooms. Going into public was a risk, yes, but so was being here. If she wanted to fulfill her goal, if she wanted to reach her destination, she had to learn boldness.

Besides, she looked exactly like a real quar. Everyone said.

She needed a proper skirt, though. Back on Jianevra, her clothes had been mostly silver string with iridescent shells on them. They were only appropriate for a costume party, and besides, she had left them on the cargo loading lift because they clicked too much. Fortunately, Tenzenai's Gift had stores, and the stores had stock in the storerooms, and if Lutéa removed a few articles of clothing from a box, it wasn't the same as stealing—stealing was taking things that belonged to real sapients, and these clothes weren't owned yet.

She selected a light blue skirt, slightly translucent, open at the sides like most quar clothing. She had to look at the catalogue to figure out exactly how she was supposed to knot the ribbons around her tail. A pair of matching sandals, with plastic blue sparkles on them, and then—feeling very adventurous—Lutéa actually changed her hairstyle, using two silvery barrettes to keep her mane from trailing over her eyes.

Then she slipped past the hulking inventory robots and out of the storeroom.

This was Staff Only territory, full of white walls and utilitarian doors. Lutéa looked curiously at each one as she passed. First there was storage, then robot storage, then robot repair, and then the staff quarters, all numbered. The data library hadn't included a map of this part of the ship, but Lutéa knew she had to move up a few decks to find the passenger section. She also knew that there were elevators at the ends of corridors—at least, there were in the passenger section, so—

Hey!

A jolt of pure, utter fear. Lutéa spun, then wondered if perhaps she should have sprinted away. There was a quar hurrying towards her, a man, dressed in a thick, multi-pocketed technician's apron. Lutéa thought, it's all over I'll never get away I'll be sent back to Jianevra I'll be hurt I'll be reprogrammed I'll be scrapped I'll never ever ever see snow—

You're not allowed down here, Miss. The quar came to a stop, slightly out of breath. Let me show you back to the public sections, all right?

Except they think I'm a passenger.

They really do! They think I'm a passenger! That would be lovely! Lutéa said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, and the quar gave her a mildly puzzled look. I mean, yes, please, do that. She strove for a disinterested tone, but didn't think she'd achieved it.

All right, the tech repeated. Follow me, Miss.

The elevator was only a little ways down the hall. The technician got in with her, perhaps to make certain she pressed the right floor number, and rode up with her in silence. Here you go, then. Deck One, Section Alabaster. Every deck below this is Staff Only, so stay up here and remember to ask for help if you get lost again. The elevator really shouldn't have let you down here without a staff code.

I'm sure it just made a mistake, Lutéa said.

Yes, but it shouldn't've. I'll have to write up a report. Any rate, Legend Cruise Lines hopes you enjoy the luxurious intersystem tour and please feel free to make use of any and all our amenities, I'm glad I could be of service to you, if you need any help locating your cabin please ask any attendant and have a nice day. The elevator doors shut.

Lutéa was in a small courtyard with a cleverly made but still artificial tree. The hall that led away from it was lined with cabins, and at the far end Lutéa could see a light green, wavery glimmer through glass doors. A swimming pool, perhaps.

Tenzenai's Gift was divided into four sections, according to the promotional literature. (They entirely failed to mention the staff section.) Alabaster Section was the lowest, and thus had slightly stronger gravity than the rest. Above that was Jade Section, which had a longer paragraph in the brochure, and then Diamond Section, and then Opal Section, which (said the brochure) had absolutely everything a sapient being could want.

More to the point, Opal Section had a ballroom with ceilings made of transparent adamant. If Lutéa wanted to get a look outside, that was the place. She would finish up there, Lutéa decided. She'd look at all the shops, and all the plazas, and the lightmusic hall and the game rooms and anything else that caught her eye, and then she'd go to the ballroom. And she would for heaven's sake stop being nervous and start enjoying herself, otherwise what was the point?

Besides, she couldn't go back down to the storeroom. The helpful tech had ruined things there—the tech and her own internal Monitor, which made sure she followed orders. As always, it had latched onto stay up here and remember to ask for help if you get lost as if they were the revealed word of the Stargods. She hoped she could find some excuse, some directive she could interpret a little broadly, some room to move—

She strolled down the hall, trying to look jaunty and carefree, to find an elevator where she wouldn't encounter him again.

§

A majority of the Gift's passengers were quar.

Not a lot of them were goldenbacks, which was the race Lutéa was modeled on. It was a distinctive pattern: gold eyebrows, gold mane, gold shoulders and hands and feet, and a golden stripe all the way down to the tip of her tail, with all the rest of her fur black. Goldenbacks were from the Great Archipelago originally. Classical literature portrayed them as exotic, beautiful, untrustworthy and possibly sail-pirates. The heroes of those series were always truegoldens or trueblacks, solid colored quar. Lutéa saw a few of those, but most of the quar on this ship were tricolors of one sort or another: gold, black, and white. That was the modern age, the era of starflight, she supposed. When travel was easy, it even affected how people looked.

Lutéa had never had to think of these things before. There were quar, who were real sapients, and various aliens, who were likewise real sapients. And then there were robots, like her, who weren't.

If she was going to avoid being scrapped, she didn't just have to look quar. She had to perform quar. And even if her performance was perfect, even if nobody doubted her personhood, she would be better off if she didn't stand out. She wondered if she should try to bleach some of her fur.

Up in Diamond Section, she began to actually enjoy watching all the people. Quite a few of them were aliens. Ohiti, of course; the Ohiti Protectorate was the nearest great political power. Like the quar, the ohiti were upright primates, possibly descended from the same distant ancestor. Most scientists seemed to agree that the Stargods had planted related animals on different planets. At times, one could even see a resemblance between a sapient and some distant animal relative from another world. Jann looked a little bit like ohiti hunting hounds, with canine faces and front paws that doubled as hands. Chocktay were obviously a sort of bird.

Ohiti looked similar to quar, if tailless, but they were bulky, strong-looking, with uniformly black fur that was nevertheless so thin a person could see the pink skin through it. Lutéa found them ugly, but perhaps that was because she also found them intimidating. Most ohiti could break her without breathing hard.

She paused by a fountain that was specially designed and lit to throw rainbows into the air and tried not to look as if she were scrutinizing her fellow passengers. There was a group of jann, long-faced and quadrupedal, with manes as thick as those of any quar. They considered it highly impolite to appear in public without their fur painted, Lutéa recalled, and the few that came to Lir Dahanat were imperious and touchy. These five were wearing almost the same colors, only small variations around the eyes and along the jawline, so they must belong to the same clan. And there was a kee-i, almost the same as an ohiti (but you never said that to an ohiti, not ever) except for the white fur and a few nuances in the face.

There went a group of ch't'tet, which looked rather like wrinkled, hairless mice, but big enough to come up to a quar's knees. Lutéa had never seen one before—they didn't come to Lir Dahanat Island—but she had heard they were deathly afraid of being alone. A vossti, with scales glittering as bright as any fish. And—sweet Stargods—a lom, a real live lom, slopping and slurping its way around the courtyard like a glob of sapient goo.

Lutéa stopped pretending to watch the fountain, but no-one was looking at her. None of the lom's substance actually came off, she noticed, but people were reluctant to follow too close to it anyway. As she watched, the lom stopped at the nearby restaurant, grew a tendril, and poked the door pad. Lutéa wondered why it didn't just squeeze underneath.

Perhaps going too flat was uncomfortable. Or perhaps it was rude. Lutéa moved on.

Nothing was happening at the lightmusic hall. The shops were of no interest to someone without money, and besides, the theft-detection systems might be confused by her artificial nature. Restaurants, likewise; Lutéa could pretend to eat, but getting rid of the food afterwards was unpleasant and always required scrubbing her mouth. She spent a diverting few minutes in a game room, trying to bounce little balls into little slots, but then an adolescent quar poked her on the shoulder and said, Let someone else have a turn, will you? so she had to go.

Just down the corridor, there was a viewing bay, and Lutéa got her first look at the Sea.

She'd spent her whole existence near a planetary ocean, of course. She wasn't entirely sure why sapients called spatial layers Seas, but there had to be a good reason. True spacers even talked about normal space as a Sea—the Sea of Night, they called it. Then there was the Sea of Shadows, the lowest and most reachable realm of hyperspace, a realm of dimness and half-seen shapes. Above that (for an esoteric definition of above) was the Sea of Clouds, then the Sea of Storms, the Sea of Fire, and the Sea of Lightning—with the Sea of Lightning being a deadly high-energy realm that only warships dared use, and that only in an emergency.

This was the Sea of Clouds. It had to be. Only they weren't anything like planetary clouds. They were a hundred different colors if you looked closely enough. Most of the clouds were dark blue, but punctuated by hotter-looking hues. Light blue, a dusting of gold here, a bit of purple or scarlet there, piled high in billows . . .

There were no stars, none that she could see. The light seemed to come from the clouds themselves.

She walked toward the window, hardly realizing she was doing so. So beautiful. Even if I never see snow, this . . . this is . . .

And then a loud, harsh voice said, "Watch where you're going, you ignorant misbreed!"

Lutéa pulled up short, with a gasp. She had stepped on the edge of someone's skirt. Someone's very nice skirt. I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking.

The speaker was quar, a woman, truegolden, with an elegant, artificial symmetry to her face that Lutéa had learned to associate with money and cruelty. I don't imagine you have much practice, the woman said. What are you even doing on this deck? Can't you watch the translation on a screen?

Thank you, ma'am. I'll—I'll be leaving now. Lutéa tried to step backwards, but her Monitor brought her up short. Watch where you're going!

She twitched and half-turned.

Just a minute. The golden woman stepped in front of her again. You're not even a passenger, are you?

It's all over shouldn't have thought I could run away can't ever get away sent back to Jianevra sent back and left