Khe (7 page)

So much was unknown—how the community would react, what the ability might mean to my future. Was I to become a traveling freak, transported from research center to research center, performing my miracles on demand?

It wasn’t
not
being able to perform that frightened me.

“Ready?” Pradat asked.

I drew a deep breath, straightened my back and answered, “Yes.”

The machinery on the floor and tables surrounding my chair glowed red, yellow, and blue. The blips and snarls quieted to a high-pitched hum that tickled the insides of my ear holes, making them itch. Pradat handed me the first covered bowl.

Bowing my head, I swirled the cerulean liquid in gentle currents, wondering what sort of little plants or beasts lived in the water, what they wanted from their lives. No more than I wanted—a pleasant place to live, food, companionship, and to leave their mark by reproducing.

I put my full concentration to the task. Remembering the joy and glory of mating during Resonance, in my mind I told the little organisms how lucky they were to have the chance to live and reproduce. I told them that if they wanted, I would help them with their task, if I could. I told them how happy helping them made me.

When I felt I’d done all that I could, I handed the bowl back to Pradat.

“Seventeen percent above normal,” Pradat said when she finished the count. Her voice held no excitement or disappointment to help me know her expectations. She tapped the information into a thin device on her wrist. While I’d been holding the bowl, Pradat had watched the machines, noting the blips, gains, and dips of my physiological changes while I’d worked. She recorded this information as well, but said nothing about what the machines told her.

I spent most of the day in that room, endlessly repeating the same act with various organisms. As I tired out, the rates of increased dropped but never so low as normal. Finally, seeing that I was exhausted, Pradat sent me back to my dwelling.

At the door, Tav squeezed my shoulder. Her dark eyes gleamed.

“Oh, Khe,” she said. “Think of the good you can do for Lunge commune.”

Chapter Seven

Clear water washes the bones of the land.

Hard work washes the sins from our souls.

--The Song of Growing

My mouth fell open, seeing Simanca stepping carefully as she crossed the newly turned field. I slung my seed bag over my shoulder and walked toward her.

“Good day, Khe,” she said when we met, as though her being here was an everyday experience.

“Good day,” I said back. “Is something wrong?”

I glanced around. Thedra, Jit, and Stoss were watching us. Doumanas in the fields on either side were staring.

“Something is very right,” Simanca said. “I wanted to speak with you here, in the fields, the place where you will be privileged to make Lunge the most successful, highly regarded commune in the region.”

I shifted my weight from foot to foot, waiting for her to go on. I could feel my sisters’ eyes on us.

Simanca leaned in close to me. “I’ve thought this over carefully. You have a wonderful ability, Khe. You can accelerate growth. I want you to try it with the kiiku. If you can produce an extra seventeen percent, we’ll have that much more to sell.”

She didn’t say it, but I knew that if we produced that much kiiku, Lunge would easily win the annual production competition against the other fifteen communes in our region. I guessed that Simanca wouldn’t mind that.

“Seventeen percent is a lot,” I said.

Simanca’s lips crinkled in a smile. “A goal, Khe. A number to reach for.”

“What will Lunge do with the extra credits?”

“Bring in hatchlings of course. Not only those we’re allotted, but more. An extra seventeen percent in production will give us an allotment of six hatchlings, plus enough credits to buy two more.” Simanca’s emotion spots flared bright blue with excitement.

I stared in surprise. Hardly anything meant enough to Simanca to show on her skin.

“Perhaps,” she continued, “once our production has improved, you might work in the new hatchlings’ wing.”

Oh, now she wanted a whole new wing. Not just a few extra hatchlings to build up our population slowly, but many and quickly. I’d never thought of her as ambitious, but now I saw how full her dreams measured. Simanca knew I wanted to tend the hatchlings. She was trying to bribe me—and succeeding.

I ran my fingers lightly over my skull. The work with the orindle, Pradat, had tired me to the point that I’d taken to my sleep quarters and stayed the entire next day on my cot. Simanca allowed the unheard of luxury even though I couldn’t really say I was sick. I was still tired today, but didn’t want to complain again. Clasping my hands together in front of my belly, I looked down at my feet and said, “I’ll try.”

Simanca beamed. “Good. Begin now.”

***

The golden days of First Warmth passed one after another into Bounty Season, then Cooling, and Barren and to First Warmth again. Commemoration Day arrived.

Thedra stood in the doorway to our sleeping quarters, her hand on her hip.

“You going to sleep all day, Khe? The hatchlings have already emerged. You missed it.”

I groaned and sat up. “I’ll be right there.”

I’d gone to Simanca when I’d first noticed how tired I was becoming. I’d overslept the morning meal so many times that Jit started bringing me food—not only in the morning, but sometimes at night when I felt too tired to stand in line at the communiteria, or when chewing and swallowing seemed more effort than they were worth. Simanca waved off my concerns. Pulling the textbox from the holster on her hip, she’d quickly found the verse from
The Rules of a Good Life
that she wanted.

“The callused hand is soothed, the tired heart refreshed with the balm of work for the community,” she said, showing me the same words on the box. “Take joy in your fatigue, Khe. It’s a blessing from the creator.”

I’d fought down a terrible urge to laugh. Instead, I’d lowered my eyes and said, “Yes, doumana,” and walked away.

Thedra stayed standing in the doorway, her eyes wide and locked on me.

“We’re just about to honor the returning doumanas,” she said.

And after that, I knew, we’d hear the crop weighing results.

“I’ll be right there,” I snapped, and then regretted my tone. It wasn’t Thedra’s fault that I felt like there was a little beast inside my skull, banging it with a hammer.

Thedra shrugged. “We’ll see you there, then.”

I heard the front door slam as she left.

Clouds hid the sun, making the day gray and dismal as I hurried across the Commons to Community Hall. Blue drymoss was in bloom. My feet crushed their tiny white flowers as I ran.

The door to Community Hall had been left open. I slipped inside and stood at the back for a moment to catch my breath. I scanned the room, looking for my unitmates, so I could sit with them.

I’d arrived too late to join in honoring our Returning doumanas. They were already seated in the front row, a line of crimson in a lake of new-leaf green. I wished I could see their faces. Since the day that Hwanta had gone mad while being honored, I was afraid that another of my sisters would blaspheme the creator as Hwanta had. But since then, no Returning doumana had been anything but anxious to join with the great soul.

Simanca stood on the dais, dressed in a green gown. The awards box lay near her feet. Tav stood to her left; Gintok and Min stood behind her. Soothing warmth spread across my neck. My emotion spots flashed green with contentment. I loved my commune and my sisters, relished the comfort of seeing my leader and her unitmates on the riser as I’d seen them so many times before, as I would see them again every year until my own Returning had passed.

I spotted Jit craning her head toward the back of the hall. Catching her eye, I made my way down to the second row, where my unit sat.

“Twenty-four percent over last weighing,” Simanca called out, as I slid into a chair between Jit and Thedra. The room erupted into cheers. The stamping of feet made my ear holes hurt.

“What crop is she talking about?” I asked Jit, practically shouting to be heard over the clamor.

“Kiiku, of course,” Thedra, not Jit answered. “Increased by twenty-four percent. Can you believe it?” She leaned over and stroked my neck. I froze in surprise. Thedra had never touched me before that I could remember, much less favored me with a neck stroke.

“Twenty-four percent,” I whispered, amazed myself.

Jit took my hand. “You’ve done so much for Lunge commune. Maybe now you can rest awhile.”

Thedra snorted a laugh. “Maybe she can spend some time with us now, instead of sleeping away all her free time.”

“I’m sorry,” I muttered. I gave Thedra a small smile. “Believe me, I’d like to spend more evening time with you and Jit and Stoss. I’m so tired all the time, I don’t even go to see the hatchlings anymore.”

Thedra shook her head. “How can I be mad at the doumana who’ll make ours the most famous, most honored commune on the planet?” Her mouth tightened. “You do sleep solidly, my sister. You’ve even started to snore. Maybe we can spend some of our extra credits from the kiiku on a new cot for you, something more comfortable.”

I was so happy; it was easy to forgive Thedra. I didn’t fool myself, though. We were unitmates, sharing equally in the honors and extras my work had brought. She wanted to make sure that glory splashed on her as much as me.

“I am very pleased,” Simanca said when the shouts and stamps had died down, “to honor a doumana who has worked hard this season for our community.” Her eyes focused on me. “Khe, come and take your reward.”

My neck tickled. I knew my spots glowed bright green, showing the pride I felt as I walked to the riser. The moment was worth all the effort, worth the fatigue. The tickle on my neck intensified and grew warm as more spots lit up with the crimson of happiness.

I stepped up onto the riser and faced my sisters.

“It is I who am honored to have been able to give to my commune.”

Simanca reached into the box near her feet and drew out the largest award of merit I had ever seen. On the loop inside, kiiku went from seedling to full vine, with huge black gourds. On the loop, too, was my name. Not the unit’s, only mine.

Looking out over my community, the spots on my neck tingled, turning orange with a pleased embarrassment.

“Next season,” I said, making a promise I hoped I could keep, “thirty percent over last weighing.”

I saw Simanca’s mouth crinkle, her lips stretching out over her teeth.

***

Simanca turned up the pressure.

“You have a duty to the commune,” she said. Her voice was flat and insistent. Her neck showed the colors of annoyance and impatience.

We stood up to our knees in kiiku. Pale-green stems, as thick as my wrist, twisted everywhere on the ground. Spiny red leaves and heavy black gourds hemmed our legs. Jit worked near-by, but not close enough to hear. Stoss and Thedra were far across the field, harvesting the last of the Cooling Season crop.

“I have done my duty for twelve years since I first emerged as an adult,” I replied evenly. “In the six years since my ability came forward, I have done all that was asked of me, despite exhaustion.”

“You have compensation. All eighth-day work has been lifted from you to allow you to rest.”

As if that made a difference. Fatigue and frustration made me bold. And the knowledge that Simanca needed me to realize her great ambitions. Her need kept me safe from punishment.

“I ask every season,” I said, “but you still haven’t kept your promise.”

“Don’t start that again,” Simanca said. “I’ve told you why you can’t work with the hatchlings.”

“Because I’m needed in the fields. Yes, I know.”

“You barely keep up with the kiiku. If you added hatchlings to your obligations, you’d fall apart. I’m looking out for your welfare.”

“Perhaps if you cultivated fewer fields, I wouldn’t be so worn out.”

Her dark eyes narrowed to thin black slits. Spots flared on her neck. “Your job is to increase crop output, not to question my decisions. Are you unhappy that Lunge commune has prospered and grown? We have seven new fields ready for kiiku seeds. Old orchards are blooming again. Our population has doubled and twenty-two hatchlings emerged here this year. We are the most respected and honored of all communes. Do you find these to be bad things?”

I sighed and changed my tactics. “I’m just so tired. I feel used up. Please, I need a change of assignment. I need rest.”

“Yes, well, hard work exhausts us all,” Simanca said. “Your duty is to serve the commune. Not as you wish, but in the way that best benefits your community.” She took a stop toward me. “I am surprised, Khe, that your neck is not awash in the colors of shame. Your sisters have worked hard harvesting and preparing the food you eat, sewing the garments you wear, keeping your dwelling in good repair for your comfort. The creator has given you a great gift—the ability to make things grow. Are you too tired to be of service to those who have labored for you without complaint.”

I lowered my eyes and said nothing.

Simanca leaned back, rocking slightly on her back toe. “We’re nearing the end of the tenth-year competition. You know how important this harvest is for us. With your help, our production has increased again, but Grenwil commune is larger than we are, and pushing hard to win. To beat them, we must not only excel this season, but the next as well.”

She stopped rocking and leaned toward me, her face barely a breathing space from mine. Simanca dropped her voice to a near whisper. “Do you want to see your community humiliated, filled with failure? If we lose the tenth-year competition, we will drop in hatchling assignments as well. Do you wish Lunge commune to lose this honor?”

I hunched my shoulders. “No.”

“Then you must return to the fields tomorrow and continue your work without further complaints.”

“But—”

“But what?” Simanca’s voice was as hard as kiiku rind. “Khe, will you serve your commune or won’t you?”

The voice of a lifetime of training whispered in my ear.
Contribution to the community gives joy to our lives
.
To serve is to find happiness
. Words I had believed and lived by.