Kirya and Nero

Chapter 3: Landfall and Sunset

Home again or home at last?
Am I facing forward or staring at my past?
Are my knees quaking with unwanted fear?
Is it here where revealed is the path I must take?
Strangeness above and stranger beneath
Weighing my shoulders and dulling my feet;
It creeps in my mind and seizes fast:
Am I home again or am I home at last?

-Kirya Onikija, "The Star Sisters Collection"

Kirya stood as motionless as possible. This was no small feat – she could feel the nearly overpowering quaver creeping through her fingertips. As discreetly as possible, she drew several deep breaths, filling her lungs to capacity with the strange alien air. It was warmer than she was used to, and much heavier. It was like trying to inhale cloth.

With a few measured breaths she felt her mind begin to clear of its anxieties, and the fog in her longs dissolved. She could once again focus on the moment.

The shuttlecrafts crouched warily a few meters away, the low whine of their engines nearly faded to silence. A pack of engineers mulled about as they prepared the craft to reunite with their parent ship in orbit. The rest of the passengers were lined up along the tarmac, officials in one row and civilians facing opposite them. Between the columns drifted the captain of the EaS Kayikua, accompanied by a pair of hiyumans in stark black clothing. The passengers bowed slightly as the captain passed, a ripple that moved slowly along the line.

"So nice of you to greet us in person once again, Governor," said Captain Kamia cheerfully. "I hope we're not taking too much of your valuable time."

"Au, aikiroga liyo," replied the taller yuma in a tone as stiff as his straight-legged gait. Kirya did a double-take – she hadn't expected a hiyuman to speak Naikuno, let alone speak it so clearly.

"Nothing's more important than welcoming a guest," the yuma continued. "Especially after such a long trip."

The captain blinked in agreement. "Eya, it's all in the pursuit of peace and knowledge. I'm sure it's worth it. But it does sound like a lot of technical gibberish, to be honest."

The governor laughed. "You'll be returning to the ship quickly, I assume?"

"As soon as your ambassadors are aboard, we'll dig our way back to Ringu."

The captain and her companions passed by Kirya's family. With all her muscles willed into strict control, Kirya bowed respectfully. As the captain slipped by, she gave a slight sideways nod to Kirya, who blinked nervously in response.

With the faintest trace of a smile, Captain Kamia followed the hiyumans into a large square structure. The sharp orderliness of the tarmac instantly dissolved into activity again. Crewmembers began helping uniformed yumas to load cargo and luggage into a small fleet of wheeled rectangular vehicles. Kirya waded through the plastic crates and scooped up her onzaii tree. It was a surreal feeling, holding this familiar plant while under this totally unfamiliar sky. She abruptly realized that the tree might not even survive in this atmosphere. Sure, the air was breathable for her, but is it compatible with the onzaii's chlorophyll? By bringing it here, had Kirya condemned the unsuspecting tree to death?

Her sudden worry must have shown on her face. When she approached her mother, Kirya received a reassuring smile.

"So solemn," Reja said softly. "My little naturalist frets for her green friend."

"He may not stay green for long," Kirya said.

"I'm sure it'll be fine. The onzaii breathe the air we give them, just as we breathe the air they provide. It holds a part of you, and you're a survivor. You are of the jiisei, the Wood Form, and its strength is your strength."

Kirya smiled. "Nice and poetic."

"I thought you'd like it."

"How long until we go?"

Reja sighed. "Well, you know your father. He'll start talking about his work and lose track of everything else. In fact–" She straightened up and looked around. "–it looks like the transports are ready. I think I'll go prod him a little."

Kirya nodded as her mother slipped through the crowd. Moments later, the three of the had filed into one of the Earth vehicles – a "kaar", it was called – and were on their way. While the inside was certainly large enough to fit the entire Onikija family, Kirya felt uncomfortably enclosed. The windows were small and dark, and the whole contraption vibrated as it rolled across the smooth paved roadways. It wasn't at all like the seamless glide of a shuttle – it was like speeding down a hillside in a tiny box. Kirya clamped her eyes shut and grasped the onzaii's ceramic vase, as if it was her only hope of staying firmly in her seat.

It seemed like hours passed until Kirya's nerves unwound enough to allow her eyes to open. Not that it helped much. Despite the cloudless afternoon outside, the windows were darkened so much that she could discern no more than rough shapes beyond the glass. Kirya's mother was absorbed by an unrolled computer. Her father was conducting a lively discussion with the vehicle's hiyuman pilot. Kirya tried to listen at first, but the talk of some Earth sport went straight over her head.

Instead she carefully set her onzaii tree on the carpetted floor and clamped her feet around the vase to keep it stable. With her hands cupped around her eyes, she strained to make sense of the images rushing past the tinted windows. The area around the shuttlecraft tarmac had been a vast exanse of glass and steel buildings that stretched from horizon to horizon. But now, Kirya saw no structures at all. No towering buildings, no confining yuma vehicles... no yumas at all. Just trees. Unfamiliar alien trees, to be sure, but trees nonetheless. Kirya had always pictured Earth as a completely assimilated planet – one massive urban cityscape. But here she was, surrounded infinitely by nature.

It was evening when the kaar finally passed through the steel gate of the Eraknian community. Kirya clambered awkwardly out of the vehicle and was greeted by a gentle rush of cool, crisp air. Even inside the compound, she was outnumbered and surrounded by trees. They were enormously tall and narrow with branches protruding at regular intervals parallel to the ground. She gently stroked one of the trees, marveling at the feel of its soft red bark.

Every now and then, the red and green forest was punctuated by a low cylindrical structure – something that Kirya recognized all too well. The Eraknian houses seemed to clash violently with the flora of this alien landscape. A familiar island in a foreign sea.

"What do you think?"

Kirya tuned to her father, whose expression was a mix of awe and giddy excitement.

"It will... take some getting used to," she answered.

"We're trying to leave as low a footprint as possible," said Nikyin. "Every building has a self-contained power grid and water supply, as well as waste absorption and climate control."

"We're as ghosts in this world," Kirya said mistily. "We are here, but not here."

"And we'll be and not be here for a while, too. Might as well make yourself comfortable."

He gestured to the nearest building, into which Kirya's mother had already disappeared. Kirya nodded. She retrieved her satchel and onzaii tree from the vehicle and stepped through the round doorway.

It was as if she was home again. The entrance level was softly lit by paper lanterns set into the wood-paneled walls. The light drifted lazily over the couches and tables that filled the circular room. The epicenter of the circle was occupied by a glass-enclosed rock garden, in which was perched a miniature broad-leaf zinkuyer tree.

The back arc of the room's curved wall was blank and featureless, but had the telltale sheen of smart glass. Kirya brushed two fingers along the surface and a simple user interface materialized, as if an invisible hand had sketched it into existence. Kirya found the window controls and activated them. The whole surface dissolved to transparency, revealing an endless expanse of Earth forest. The sun was setting by now, throwing bright spears of orange light into the trees and through Kirya's window until the whole room was aglow.

Kirya finally managed to tear her eyes away from the bewitching beauty of the alien sunset and made her way to a stairway at the edge of the room.

The sublevel was just as familiar as the ground floor. Directly at the base of the stairs was a dining area and kitchen with room enough for a small family. A short hallway tied the dining area to a small rotunda with sliding doors fanned out along the entire curvature of its walls. Kirya's mother was already in one of the adjoining rooms, arranging furniture and luggage.

When she met her mother's gaze, Kirya sighed dramatically.

"Just like home, isn't it?" she said.

Reja smiled. "Yes, they certainly got the details right."

"It could still use a bit more personality."

"Not too much personality, I hope," said a voice from behind her. "Don't want to turn it into – Aya! Look out!"

Kirya dodged nimbly as a large plastic container came whizzed past her head. Nikyin planted his heels into the floor, barely stopping the crate from crashing into a wall.

"Sorry, Kirayko," Nikyin said sheepishly, setting the crate down heavily. "Just a little too much forward momentum. Good reflexes, though," he added appreciatively.

"Years of practice, I suppose," Kirya said.

"Are you implying that I – ei!"

"Watch your fingers, Nikyin," said Reja without looking up.

"Now that was just bad timing!" Nikyin insisted. "Normally I have the grace of an expert swordsman!"

"A retired expert, maybe," said Kirya.

"Siiyofu oru liyo...."

Kirya grinned. "So which room is mine, oh mighty yin master?"

Nikyin slid open the remaining doors. "Well, this one's a lavatory. This is the generator room. And this... well, this is a closet. But there's still three to choose from."

"What do you think, zer-onzaii?" Kirya said to the plant in her arms.

She pretended to listen intently, as if the inanimate green stalks were sharing some gripping anecdote.

"That one, I think," she said at last, pointing to an open door on the south wall of the rotunda. "But with his accent, it's hard to tell."

Nikyin laughed as he cracked open the airtight transport container. "Well at least he has good taste! I recommend settling in a little now, maybe start moving your belongings. We'll have a quick meal in... oh, say an hour from now."

"Sounds fine to me."

"And we all might want to try retiring early tonight to force a new sleep pattern. The days are shorter here than on Ringu."

"How much shorter?"

By now, Nikyin was rummaging through the container. He resurfaced at regular intervals to hand a smaller box or bundle to his wife or to keep polite eye-contact with Kirya.

"Not much," he said. "Only an hour or two. But it's still enough to trip up your internal clock. The earlier you reset the pattern, the less stressful it will be later."

Kirya nodded. "Very sensible. Then I suppose it's time for the room to meet me."

"Fiya oru."

With an exaggerated bow, Kirya slipped sideways through the doorway.

Compared to her quarters on the ship, this room was palatial. Kirya could easily picture space for a desk, a sleep platform and a bureau, with room to spare for one of the kaars parked outside. Every surface not carpeted or wood-paneled was painted a studious red. An array of narrow skylight windows ran along the ceiling opposite the doorway, letting in the hazy twilight.

"This'll do nicely," Kirya said, positioning the onzaii to catch the most sun in daytime. When her roommate was settled, Kirya let the satchel slip unceremoniously from her shoulder. It hit the floor with a muffled thump as Kirya dropped herself onto the exposed mattress of the sleep platform. The mattress was thin and conservative, but still comfortable enough to welcome her warmly.

The exhaustion of the day seemed to catch Kirya all at once in the form of a single gaping yawn. She watched the last vestiges of orange disappear from the frosted skylights. In the dim lighting, with her eyelids weighted with fatigue, it was easy to forget that she wasn't on Ringu anymore.

She wasn't on an alien world at all – she was home again.