The Star Whorl (The Totality Cycles Book 1) (10 page)

     It was like a dark-time
terror being slowly realized, a return to the times of mfanya-slaves, who had
no choice and no say in their own fates.

     After a while he could not
read anymore, so sickened by the sugary words that he felt close to nausea
again. He mechanically went through his exercise regimen, cleaned himself up,
and lay on his rest-pad. But sleep again abandoned him, and he heard himself
moaning involuntarily as he struggled to find repose in the dark. A simple
discussion thread was not going to fix this.

     He did not contemplate what
would
fix it.

     He moaned again.

Whorl Twenty Nine

     The crush and despair of the
Mji’Hive wrapped around him with its familiar coils, making him tuck in his
vuu’erio ‘tennae. He mused dourly about the problem of the Occupation and
Service Initiative as the transport struggled to get through the sub-Hive
crowding to take him and his term-mates to Secondus.

    
How will the city change,
when most of the citizens are gone?
he wondered, looking at the sea of
faces and waving vuu’erio tennae, most expressionless but not blank, just
waiting for something interesting to happen.
How can the Solidarim and the Gu’Anin
Magistrate Council think the Initiative was a good idea? Do they think people
will just go without a fight?
He looked around at the super-congestion within
the sub-Hive. There was no rallying cry from the populace for change, no riots
or mass demonstrations, no marauding groups pressuring those in authority for
anything. Because, with most of the people possessing some median skill of
Nil’Gu’ua, they wanted for nothing. Since the Unification, ten thousand orbises
ago, and the intermingling of the castes, the Nil’Gu’ua disparity between the
castes had evened out, so that there were no high Malkia-mothers and no lower
mfanya worker-drones – and most people had about the same level of Nil’Gu’ua.

    
Most everyone is at least
at Nil’Gu’ua levels between three and six.
Level three was required to
apply Nil’Gu’vua to a glyph to produce an object. Level five was required to
produce objects that contained remnants of the Living-Glyph, such as food
objects. So there was not an article of attire they could not produce for
themselves, once the glyph of it was known. There was no dearth of shelter,
however temporary, from the elements, for they could produce mini-hives themselves.
Most ancient mfanya industries were dead, for the mass-production of any one
product by a particular caste was no longer necessary. Food, clothing, shelter,
luxuries – all could be had by application of Nil’Gu’vua to commonplace glyphs,
so the need to strive for these necessities had died with the industries that
had supplied them. That left only entertainment, but there, too, problems
arose, for fictitious stories could hold the interest only so long, and other
diversions also paled quickly, as they were no longer an escape from the
drudgery of having to toil for survival. Even the need to kill and consume
animals was gone, and the natural world had been left to revert to its former
glory in many parts of Gu’Anin. So too, was the drive to procreate, in the
older citizens – many did not, as the population swelled. Long-mated pairs were
splitting, many older males slowly losing the Genii-induction colors that they
had had for orbises.

    
Have we met our apogee,
and are now on the decline?
he thought suddenly, blinking, his eyes
reflexively going from simple to semi-compound and back.
Is that why the
authorities are taking such drastic measures? No, there has to be something
more, something deeper, for the powers to go to this length to enforce a reform.
But what?

     “What world-shattering thing
are you contemplating, now?” Ro-Becilo’Ran asked, smiling, leaning at his ease
beside him. The deepening coloration of his Ropalir-induction made
Kreceno’Tiv’s vuu’erio tennae twitch, and he tucked them into his hair. The way
things were going, Ro-Becilo’Ran and Ropali Galici’Bel would be true-mated by
the time his friend was ready to go to Tertius.
Then he’ll formally be
Ropalir-Becilo’Ran’Bel.
The thought diverted him for a moment as he looked
meditatively at his friend. Should he say what he had been thinking about
before? How soon before everyone knew about the OSI? His father knew because
Vespar-Drelano’Sev’Tiv was so highly placed in the Solidarim, a rare occurrence
for a male.
But Father did not give me leave to discuss this. Ro-Becilo’Ran
will find out soon enough, if his famiya has not already informed him.

     He smiled and gestured
noncommittalness that he did not feel in the least. “Just wondering whether we
will actually get into
Bustani
the next dark-turn that we try,” he said,
sounding wistful. He projected that wistfulness in a glyph. “I’d like to show
Polista Zyledi’Kil some of the things I told her about, if they are still
there.”

     Ro-Becilo’Ran gazed at him,
then gestured irritation, apparently not having a glyph to express his
annoyance. “Fine, keep your secrets. Would probably bore me to sleep, anyway,”
he said, closing his eyes. His vuu’erio twitched, however, giving lie to his
disinterest.

     “No doubt,” Kreceno’Tiv
rejoined, closing his eyes, also.

Whorl Thirty

     He did not have to wait long
for news of the new Initiative to be made public. The Proctor of his first
lecture took care of that, actually announcing it before the lecture with a
bright, false smile on his face. Most of the pupils looked perplexed by the
announcement. Some were mildly curious, and a few, a very few, were slightly
outraged.

     “This new Reform, the
Occupation and Service Initiative, has had successful trials in remote parts of
Gu’Anin, and will soon be implemented in a world-spanning measure,” Proctor Gib’Zal
said, sounding falsely enthusiastic. “More details and information will be
forthcoming in the turns ahead. Well, that said, let us get on with this turn’s
lesson.”

     For once he did not listen
or take any glyph-notes, but instead tried to gauge the impact on his
lecture-mates. Most were just bemused, but then, they did not have the full
knowledge of it that he and a few others had, he presumed. Distracted, he
jumped when the chime sounded, ending the lecture.

     “What do you make of this
new thing, eh?” Ro-Becilo’Ran asked as they gathered up their things and left
the room.

     “I – I don’t know what to
think,” he lied, keeping his elytra-pace from clacking. His back was sore, in
any case, from his agitation of the turn before, so it was not hard to suppress
the gesture.

     “Doesn’t sound like much to
get excited about,” Ro-Becilo’Ran gestured nonchalantly. “Though it’s curious
that they made the Proctors announce it here, in Secondus.”

     “That
is
strange,” he
admitted, feeling his stomach tie into a knot. Had the hurried disclosure of
the OSI been in response to his rallying cry in the interlinked dataSpheres? Were
the authorities trying to precipitate
his
action, and quell even the
notion of organized resistance?

     He again felt a hot gaze on
him, but when he turned, all he saw was the flash of a Gotra figure
disappearing around a corner.

     “Hurry up, silver-wing,
we’re going to be late to our next lecture if you stand around dreaming like
that,” Ro-Becilo’Ran groused, gesturing impatiently at him. He hurried his
steps, feeling a new shiver of trepidation that he could not explain.

Whorl Thirty One

     Kreceno’Tiv waited for Polista
Zyledi’Kil outside of the lecture she had before the one that they shared. He
needed a bit of distraction from his bleak thoughts of the OSI, and the thought
of her sweet smile was like a balm to his mind.

     “Oh ha, Kreceno’Tiv,”
Polista Zyledi’Kil said, coming up to him, her face bright with the pleasure of
seeing him. He straightened from his lounging position beside the entrance, his
vuu’erio drifting toward her. Her Polista chemi-scent was sweet as nectar, like
the waves of pollen that swept down from the high-up flowers of the World-Tree,
and he felt his physique change in response, taking on the Polistar yellow and
black in faint markings. It was not enough to give the Po- addition to his
name, though. She smiled at him, and indicated that she was open to his walking
beside her into the class.

     “Would you like to go to the
Bustani
the next dark-turn before end-turns?” he asked huskily, as he
walked with her to her seat. “We probably won’t get in, but...”

     She looked up at him, her indigo
eyes deep and soft. “Actually, I would like to do something else, something
just for the two of us,” she said quietly, lifting a shoulder in a coquettish gesture.

     “All right,” he said,
feeling a thrill of excitement. “Anything in particular?”

     “Well...” she lowered her
lids. “I’ll tell you after, all right?”

     He gestured assent and went
to his seat as the Proctor came in.

     “This turn, we are going to
discuss the Tiers of the Solidarim,” Proctor Ropali Lif said, activating her
wall view-glyphographic.

     Kreceno’Tiv felt that sour place
within his gut tighten again. He had nearly managed to forget the infamy that Gotra
Pelani’Dun had raised about his famiya lineage and position within the
Solidarim.

    
But that has nothing to
do with me,
he thought, consciously keeping his vuu’erio tennae from
tucking away.
I won’t be in the Second Tier. I won’t be in the Solidarim
proper at all. The influence of Father will have no bearing on my standing,
he consoled himself. He did not let himself go near the thought that that was
why Polista Zyledi’Kil liked him.

     “There are twelve Tiers to
the Solidarim,” the Proctor said, drawing a diagram. “In the center stands the
One, the final authority of the Solidarim. The One may be either female, or
male. Currently, the One is male, Lissor-Tresevo’Tak’Ves. The rings of seats
closest to him are the First Tier. Only the strongest in Nil’Gu’ua and longest
in lineage would sit in the First Tier, but none currently occupy those seats.
The next rounds of seats are the Second Tier. Only the next highest in
Nil’Gu’ua and longest in lineage sit in the Second Tier. These are the policy
makers for the inner reaches of the Star Whorls, and include some of the
officials on the Gu’Anin Magistrate Council. The Third Tier has the policy
makers for the mid-regions of the Star Whorls. The Fourth Tier governs the
outer regions of the Star Whorls.”

     Kreceno’Tiv continued to
take notes, though he knew most of this already from his own private studies.

     The lesson seemed to go on
interminably, and he felt as if every eye and vuu’erio tennae turned to him
whenever the Second Tier Counselors were mentioned. He kept himself from
glancing around. But the knot in his gut was back, and a sour taste hovered on
the back of his tongue.

     Finally the chime sounded,
and he gathered up his belongings. Polista Zyledi’Kil was looking at him, her
eyes shining, and he struggled to recapture the untrammeled pleasure of her
attraction to him, and his to her. He approached her as she stood, and walked
out with her.

     “Are you all right?” she
asked quietly, projecting a glyph of concern. He realized that his vuu’erio
tennae were tucked away tight again, and he had unconsciously suppressed the
Po-induction of her chemi-scent.

     “I am,” he said warmly,
smiling, trying to let go of the tight feeling. He extended his vuu’erio toward
her, taking in her delicate chemi-scent. “What were you going to tell me?”

     She hesitated, as if torn
between telling him her preference, and asking something more of his well-being.
Then she made a charming gesture, half coy, half seductive. “My parents are in
another Mji’Hive, this five-turn. I thought we might – watch an old
entertainment this coming dark-turn before end-turn.”

     He smiled again, but there
was no shiver of anticipation. “I’d like that,” he said, moving a little closer
as they neared her storage-cubby. A thin, sharp streak of trepidation lurked in
the back of his mind. It sounded as if she wanted to get serious, and neither
of them had reached full maturity, for neither had had their wing-nets burst
through their elytra-paces.

     She smiled, and he walked
her to her next lecture, then rushed to his own, barely getting to his seat
before the chime sounded and the Proctor walked in.

Whorl Thirty Two

     In the dataSphere interlinks,
the Gu’Anin Magistrate Council detailed the tenets of the Occupation and
Service Initiative. It was a much gentler version than he had read, making it
seem completely voluntary, or nearly so. There were vague references to the strictures
and the uncompromising, coercive nature of it, but these were glossed over
quickly, in favor of the benefits and positive impacts that the Initiative would
have. And it was about to be instituted across the entire world of Gu’Anin, in
a five-turn. It would not reach An’Siija for many five-turns, for the Council
would start in the least populated areas first, the Off-Limb and Trunk
Mji’Hives, and then move into the major World-Tree Mji’Hives.

     Still, Kreceno’Tiv shivered.
The Occupation and Service Initiative was going to be put into full effect in
five turns?

    
It’s wrong,
he
thought, knew, felt the conviction in his still ‘paced wing-nets. On the
surface it would seem reasonable to the general populace, but it was ultimately
coercive, and forcing a population into something that they had not thought up
and fought for, for themselves, always ended in disaster, no matter how noble
or altruistic the intent.
And I see no altruism here! Separating the
populace by Nil’Gu’ua level is discrimination, purely and simply. And to send
them so very far away, without recourse – even
I’m
not ready to
permanently relocate to the second Star Whorl, even if it
is
part of the
Totality...!
he thought, openly gesturing his consternation and
disapprobation, for he did not have the glyphs to describe the disaster that
would follow the Initiative. He remembered his thought in lecture, several
five-turns before, about the very subtle implication that a return to the
system of Castes would be good for Gu’Anin. And with a shiver, he realized that
the Occupation and Service Initiative might do just that. For, according to the
glyph-document that his father had given him, the Initiative would only apply to
those of lower Nil’Gu’ua, who would not be admitted to Tertius.