Echoes
(or The Case of the Smashed Pondu)
Mureek whacked his head into the donbi as he descended into his house.
Abane, his mate, insisted on hanging the herb packed donbis in the doorways
to "drive out lower vibrations and open the pathway to creative
energies" ever since she had been seeing that hive-brained moron,
Healer Daq. Mureek had had an exasperating day and the last thing he
needed was this ridiculous blob smashing into his face when he arrived
home from work.
Besides, he suspected the real reason she was seeing the "healer"
was that she wanted his help in getting Mureek to fertilize her eggs
so she could lay them in his pouch. And then force him to a half year
of carrying them until he is dragging himself about like a sick old
wama. Probably she was hoping Daq would conjure up some ridiculous spell.
Mureek might be in his thirty-second year, but he'd been quite clear
with Abane from the start about his not wanting offspring. Now he recalled
the expression in her widely spaced, green eyes after he told her and
how he had misinterpreted it. It was the look females got when they
were yessing you while nodding to themselves inwardly. He would eventually
come around, her eyes were secretly saying. Now that he was older and
understood females better, he knew that look.
Well, four years had passed and he had not changed his mind. He did
not have time for offspring. Detecting took up most of what he had,
along with his intellectual energy, and what was left of either he wished
to spend with Abane. By themselves.
Abane was curled into Position Ga, practicing her Banne as, Mureek
assumed, taught to her by Healer Daq. Mureek admired his mate; she was
indeed a beauty. One and a fourth times his own size, sleek and tiny
of waist and shiny of exoskeleton. Indeed, she kept her exoplates well
polished and their variegated dark greens were the envy of their friends.
Her head was long at the back and her nose smooth with only the narrowest
of ridges, elegant under her tilted eyes. He was lucky to have her,
he knew. A stab of guilt hit him in the thorax. She had every right
to reproduce; was perfectly justified in her desire. He himself was
the idiot perhaps.
As soon as she scented his greeting, she dropped the pose and uncurled,
then gracefully stood up, waving one hand across her cheek in her characteristic
gesture. Her pale green eyes flicked to gold then back as she released
from her jaw glands five stories at once — a wild but sortable
melange of taste and scent that shot across the room to land in the
back of Mureek's throat, where his Wano receptors isolated each of the
thousands of chemicals. The results were then passed on to his brain,
which in turn interpreted the onslaught into a report of ideas, happenings
and emotion. The language of Noorians everywhere.
Abane told him, "Krone and Juno passed their examinations and
Juno has been accepted into Celmay Academy; Krone does not know yet
what she wants. Lawfene has allowed me to take on more responsibility,
which really means she wishes me to spy on her son. We will discuss
this after our repast. I want to dig out another room to use for my
Banne exercises. It doesn't feel proper to do them in here." Then,
with eyes glancing casually off into the distance, she emitted one last
little puff of scent. "Lamoon just laid eggs. Barm was overjoyed,
she told me."
Mureek ignored this and emitted his own little cloud. "Why does
Lawfene want you to spy on her son and which son?" He had a bad
feeling about this. The truth was, he had never been happy with Abane
working in the compound of Kater Lawfene, the District Administrator
of Food Distribution. He knew that politics and anyone connected with
them were tainted. As a friend from infanthood, Chan, so often said,
"Anyone who climbs to a high position in that world, does so by
stomping on heads."
His mate lowered herself to perch on a cushion, bringing her face more
in line with his. The cushion was designed to balance the rather pointy
behind of the Noor body, although many preferred to squat while relaxing.
Abane enjoyed the sophistication of the sitting position, though it
was less comfortable. "Kato Geffno is her second son. Lawfene believes
that he is part of a group that supports an opposing candidate in the
coming elections. A rather ruthless bunch."
"But it is a free world, is it not?" exhaled Mureek. "Does
her son not have the right to his opinion?" His mate tilted her
head back a little to receive his questions.
"Well, you see," said Abane, "This group that Geffno
supports has been known to 'accidentally' eliminate their opponents.
Things falling on their heads, machines suddenly going haywire and cutting
off limbs. You understand. I believe that Kater Lawfene is aware that
Geffno has kissed the back legs of several 'right' people who can elevate
him to a position of power if they take over. Besides, they know that
living in the same house as his mama-sa that he would know the details
of her working, very inside information. They could anticipate her every
move. They might even use him as their figurehead because of his already
established name."
"Ah," said Mureek, "they would have their hands up his
gadzel and be moving him about like an infant's toy. His mouth would
be emitting, but the party's scent pictures would be coming out."
"Yes, my mate, you have it." She stood up, towering above
him. Her sweet, soft, green skin between the exoskeleton plates tantalized
him. He suspected she knew this.
He reached for her, but she suddenly turned. "It is my night to
bring out the food. We are having Sucba. Not the kind with duranges
but the Clyniman recipe."
"So how are you expected to watch this Kato Geffno? Surely, you
cannot follow him everywhere. He must leave the compound off and on
all day."
"She has given me free reign," said Abane. "And my own
steamcar."
Mureek felt as if someone had whipkicked him in the thorax. His sweet
Abane involved in this pile of waste. How he hated that she had to work
for Lawfene in the first place, but a Noor female only stayed in the
home once her mate had brought eggs to term. Because of his stubbornness,
the light of his soul was endangering her very life! Of course, there
were other roads she could take, but the income and the special foods
she got her hands on were a wonderful and addictive addition to their
household. She herself would be loathe to give up such privilege.
That night, Mureek could not enjoy curling into the arms of his mate
but climbed up out of their underground home to stand in the light of
Noor's moons. Three were up; and so, it was silvery bright. They said
that there was no such thing as a seventh sense, but Mureek begged to
differ. He felt in his very lymph that something unfortunate was about
to occur. He had not come to be one of the finest detectives in the
District of Celmay for nothing.
