Rini was the first one up the ramp, wrapping his slender arms around the girl who had just been put to a test far greater than anything he had ever experienced.
Ilika, Kibi, and Boro slipped by them into the ship and saw the knife, book, and bag of gold on the table, along with six or seven empty cartons of pinkfruit juice. Next they spotted Risan Gor, wrapped in a bath towel, sitting on the floor just outside the door to the detention cell, poking a finger into the transparent static field covering the doorway, a mixture of sadness and fear on her five-year-old face.
Approaching, they could see Timod Gor trying to tear through the field with his fingers, his face twisted with anger.
Risan Gor looked up when the captain, steward, and engineer came close.
“Timod Gor . . . bad?”
Ilika searched the cell with his eyes, seeing the usual towels and blankets, but nothing with which the man could do more harm. Kibi sat down beside Risan Gor and put an arm around the girl, who started crying softly.
Sata cleaned up the mess on the table, and Boro found the rest of the mission bracelets in Timod Gor’s leather bag.
As midnight approached, Mati remained in Rini’s arms with the rest of her friends close, sometimes talking, sometimes munching nervously on the snacks Kibi put on the table, sometimes just shivering. Everyone was
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impressed with the logic she used to get Timod Gor into the detention cell, and amazed at her courage.
Eventually she started yawning, so she said good-night to her captain and friends, and crept into her cabin along with Sata.
Ilika assured him it was not necessary, but Boro insisted on spending the rest of the night in a passenger chair, with a mission bracelet on his arm.
“The oppressed are not necessarily virtuous,” Ilika quoted, searching his memory as he looked up at the tall pine trees bathed in morning light. “When I first heard that from one of my teachers, I didn’t fully understand it. Now its meaning is crystal clear to me.”
“But . . . Timod Gor wasn’t a slave or anything like that,” Sata pointed out.
“No, but we were lulled into trusting him more than we should, because we found him in a humble situation, caring for a little girl, stranded on an ice continent, both of them soon to die without our help.”
“I should have had a bracelet on,” Mati admitted, “just as if I was outside, alone.”
“Yes, and I should not have allowed a passenger to get himself alone with a crew member,” Ilika added, “bracelet or no.”
“I think he just wants to go home,” Rini said with sympathy. “He didn’t understand that we were in the process of taking him there.”
“Not so!” Mati burst out with more than a little anger. “He was looking for our share of the gold!”
Ilika let a moment of silence pass. Rini nodded acceptance of Mati’s opinion, and she smiled at him.
“In either case,” Ilika continued, “the language barrier we have with him, and which we will sometimes have with passengers in the future, doesn’t make it okay to let down our guard like we did.”
“Yeah,” Boro agreed. “Me and Kibi are going to make sure it never happens again.”
“It’s mostly my fault,” Kibi muttered with a glum look. “I’m the steward.
It’s my job to make sure my passengers don’t . . . twist the pilot’s arm and poke knives at her . . .”
Mati chuckled dryly.
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“. . . and as the steward,” Kibi continued, “it bugs me to let Risan Gor go with him. Can’t we . . . adopt her or something?”
“And Kora, Kit, Misa, and Kali too?” Ilika asked, eyebrows raised. “What about all the girls being sacrificed at that city in the tropics?”
“Okay,” Kibi said, “I’ll shut up.”
“I’ve already talked about it with the star station,” Ilika explained. “Risan Gor has a part to play in the future of this world, and even though we may not like him, Timod Gor is the best person available to raise her. And remember, all of you are starting to take on the values of Nebador and the Transport Service. How do Timod Gor’s actions compare to the ways people usually treat each other on this planet?”
They all thought back to their lives in the kingdom of their birth, and remembered the other cultures they had observed on their planetary tour.
“He . . . fits right in,” Rini admitted with a sad expression.
Ilika adjusted the static field of the detention cell so he could slide the old-fashioned map of the world through. “Where?” Ilika asked, waving his arms with palms up.
The trapped man tried to claw at the place where the map had come through, but it had already returned to full strength. Ilika sat down on the floor and waited.
Kibi joined him with a towel over her shoulder. “The others are taking one last dip in the best pool.”
Timod Gor looked at the map, then quickly jabbed at three different places.
“One,” Ilika asserted, holding up a finger.
Timod Gor folded his arms on his chest.
Ilika sighed. “Okay. We’ll take you both back to your hut by the ice shelf.
You can have your salted meat and crackers, your book and your knife, and your blankets.”
Kibi nodded her approval as they both stood up, but Timod Gor became very nervous and started speaking rapidly in his own language with a pleading tone.
“Where?” Ilika repeated.
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With a shaking hand, the man pointed to a land in the northern hemisphere, not far from the kingdom where Ilika had found his crew.
As soon as the other crew members and Risan Gor returned with laughter and wet hair, Ilika asked Sata to print a chart of the land Timod Gor had indicated. Kibi slid a lunch tray into the cell and Ilika gave him the new map.
“Where?”
Timod Gor stared in amazement at the detail of the map, but eventually saw things he recognized, and finally pointed at a village.
As they prepared for their last flight with the two passengers aboard, Kibi found Mati outside leaning on her crutch and looking at the nearest hot pool.
“Hi, Mati.”
“Hi, Kibi. I think . . . this is my favorite place in the world. The shack and corral was for a long time, but this is even better, far from any people. If I had to be stranded somewhere all alone, this would be it.”
“Even after what happened here?”
“Yeah. That happened in the ship, and Timod Gor didn’t even like it here, and never went in a pool. It’s just ours. Unlike you, Kibi, I don’t really like very many people. It feels good to have a place where no one but us can go.”
Kibi nodded and put her arm around Mati, who leaned on her in silence for a minute.
When Mati and Kibi entered through the hatch, Ilika was conferring with Sata at the navigation station and Boro was pacing in the passenger area, still wearing a bracelet.
Seeing that everyone was in and the hatch closed, Ilika took the command chair. “Flight stations and status reports.”
Mati lowered herself into her chair. “Pilot has the flight plan. Looks easy compared to . . . last night.”
Everyone
chuckled.
“Navigator is ready with local charts at our destination,” Sata assured.
“High cirrus clouds here,” Rini announced, “but lots of towering cumulus over the ocean. Weather map on channel four.”
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Boro reluctantly sat down at his station. “All engines green. Anti-mass and thrusters are warm.”
“Landing site is secure,” Kibi reported as she glanced at a series of visual displays on her console. “I have two passengers, one happy in the front row with her doll, the other curled up in blankets in the detention cell, probably nursing his wounded ego.”
Ilika turned and grinned at Kibi for a moment. “Pilot has flight command for ascent,” he said, turning back around.
Mati gave them a fare-well tour of the hot springs area. Rini provided external views and Kibi put the forward view on the big screen so Risan Gor could watch.
Less than a minute later, Mati announced their arrival at eleven thousand meters.
“Clearance check from terrain and thunder clouds,” the captain ordered, and the navigator quickly verified both.
“Ion drive, level three,” the pilot requested.
Risan Gor didn’t understand a word any of them were saying. She knew Timod Gor thought they were demons, but she believed they were angels.
They could fly, they played like children, they loved and cared for each other, and they didn’t hurt Timod Gor even when he was bad. Since they were angels, she and Timod Gor would soon be back home drinking warm milk by a cozy fire. She smiled and looked at the pretty clouds through the magic window that floated above the black-haired angel, but closed her eyes tightly when everything in the window went blurry.
Deep Learning Notes
We tend to naturally assume that anyone in an oppressive or dangerous situation is innocent, even virtuous. It is one of those “truisms,” so often true that we forget it might not be.
When Mati and Rini had a difference of opinion about Timod Gor’s motives,
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they could have gotten into an argument. Why didn’t they?
As Ilika pointed out, the language barrier contributed to letting down their guard. We naturally feel sympathy for someone who can’t communicate.
In your opinion, is it most useful to judge Timod Gor in relation to the values of his planet, the Nebador Transport Service, or some absolute standard?
Two answers are possible, one for how much to respect him in general, and one for how much freedom and trust to give him.
Do you think Ilika was bluffing when he threatened to take Timod Gor back to the rock hut on the ice continent? What would you do, in Ilika’s place, if Timod Gor refused to identify his home?
Mati expressed the point of view of introverts (about 30% of the population).
They don’t hate people. In fact, they tend to love and cherish others even more than extroverts because they focus their affections on a select few. The main difference is that introverts are drained of energy when they have to deal with large numbers of people, while extroverts are energized.
Timod Gor’s “demons” and Risan Gor’s “angels” are both conceptual boxes (“stereotypes”) into which we put people when we don’t know enough about their true natures. What other stereotypes do we use when trying to understand people?
Risan Gor thought the crew members were angels because “they could fly, they played like children, they loved and cared for each other, and they didn’t hurt Timod Gor even when he was bad.” What do you think of her reasons?
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Chapter 35: Warm Milk by a Cozy Fire
The Manessa Kwi, currently the same color as the steel-gray winter sky, circled the valley where Timod Gor’s village nestled under a blanket of snow.
The still, cold air carried the sound of a farmer calling and whistling as he herded a group of cows through a gate. Risan Gor’s face brightened as she gazed at the familiar countryside in the magic window.
Ilika stood beside Kibi at her station as Mati guided the ship slowly around the valley. “We have some parting business with our passengers. Somewhere
. . . out of sight . . . but an easy walk to the village.”
Kibi smiled as she continued to peer at her display. “How about . . . this little hill, clearing on top, easy trail down.”
“Perfect.”
Mati carefully lowered the ship among the leafless trees that covered most of the hill, letting Manessa test the frozen ground with struts before releasing the anti-mass drive. “Finished with engines.”
“Boro is in command,” Ilika announced. “You know what comes next.”
Boro nodded and opened the mission bracelet cabinet.
Ilika and Kibi laced their boots and grabbed cloaks, then stepped outside.
A thin crust of ice and snow covered the wiry grass, with occasional rocks and boulders scattered among the leafless trees.
“You’ve become close to Risan Gor, even learned a few words of her language,” Ilika said as they slowly circled the clearing.
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“And she’s learned a few words of ours,” Kibi added.
“Good. I have a very important task for you,” Ilika continued, bringing a short metal tube from his cloak pocket. “Our share of the gold is inside, and I want you to communicate to Risan Gor that it is for her, but only in the future when Timod Gor is no longer taking care of her. When you are sure she understands, select a good hiding place, under a rock or an old log. Do your best to help her memorize the place.”
“I . . . think I can do that.”
Risan Gor grinned with pride as she tied her boots and pulled on her cloak, then took the hand of the angel Kibi as they walked together down the ramp.
Boro was very well prepared for his assigned task of getting Timod Gor off the ship without further mischief. Boro wanted to put the man to sleep and carry him out, but Ilika shook his head. Boro, however, promised that the slightest threatening move by Timod Gor would have the same result. Ilika nodded.
To give Kibi the time she needed, the rest of the crew relaxed in the passenger area or started making a stew.
Nearly an hour later, Kibi and the five-year-old girl returned, both smiling and snickering in cahoots over some deep secret. Kibi and Ilika exchanged nods, and everyone sat down for a quick meal. Boro slid a tray into the detention cell for Timod Gor.
The process of releasing the prisoner began with a silent drama enacted just outside the detention cell. With Timod Gor watching, Kibi handed Risan Gor the leather shoulder bag, the knife, the book, and finally the bag of gold that was Timod Gor’s share. The girl put each item into the bag, then added her doll. She struggled for a moment to get the strap over her shoulder.
Rini came forward, kissed her on the cheek, and handed her the blankets that had been to the ice continent and back, now clean and rolled into a bundle.
Still blushing from Rini’s kiss, Risan Gor shared hugs with all the other angels as Timod Gor watched silently from his cell.
Mati disappeared into the lift and Boro gestured for everyone to go to their
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places.
Kibi led Risan Gor to the hatch, opened it, and gave her one last hug. The girl descended the ramp and waited at the bottom.
“Manessa, open the detention cell,” Ilika commanded in the language of Nebador. Then he gestured for Timod Gor to come out.
The man cautiously felt his way through the place where the static field had been, then warily glanced at Ilika at the rear of the ship, Rini and Sata in the galley, Boro near the steward’s station, and finally Kibi on the bridge, all with their left arms raised and a finger of their right hand poised.
Once he arrived at the open hatch, he saw Risan Gor waiting for him at the bottom, mixed feelings on her face, heavy bag over her shoulder. He cautiously descended and took the shoulder bag she gladly surrendered.
He turned and looked back at the strange ship run by demons who didn’t understand when he read from the Great Book. Three of them were in the opening, arms still raised.
Risan Gor said something about warm milk, so Timod Gor turned away from the demon ship, took her outstretched hand, and together they made their way to the trail that wound down the hill toward the village.
Ilika and Kibi watched from the ramp as their first passengers approached the woods. Risan Gor glanced once at the place where her gold coins were hidden, but said nothing and continued walking into the trees beside Timod Gor.
Boro let out a huge sigh.
“I hope passengers aren’t always that difficult,” Kibi said, dropping into a seat at the big table.
“Rarely,” Ilika assured them. “Our passengers will usually be members of the Nebador Services.”
“Can I come up now?” they heard a faint voice call from the lower deck.
Sata giggled and went to the lift. “It’s just us now! Hatch closed, no passengers!”
Mati appeared just as Rini put a plate of sweet biscuits on the table.
“We learned a bunch of things,” Boro shared, “so I think it was worth it.”
“You didn’t get your arm wrenched and your shoulder pricked by a big
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knife!” Mati asserted as she took the seat next to the engineer and gave him a friendly poke.
Boro frowned with guilt. “You’re right. Sorry.”
Deep Learning Notes
Why was Timod Gor’s village covered by snow when the ship had just come from a pleasantly-warm forest where they could walk around in wet underwear without getting cold?
Why did Ilika give away their share of the gold?
When hiding something of value, in the woods, for possibly several years, what things make good markers that won’t be moved by people or animals, and won’t disappear over time? (You can assume no excavations, in that culture, by machines or explosives.)
What important information was given to Timod Gor as he watched Risan Gor receive their belongings?
What sort of logic was Timod Gor using when he labeled the crew as demons because (or at least party because) they didn’t understand the words in his
“Great Book”? Has this sort of logic ever played a part in human history?
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