NEBADOR Book Six: Star Station by J. Z. Colby - HTML preview

Chapter 44: Unfinished Business

When the crew of the Manessa Kwi arrived back at Satamia Star Station, most of the visiting students had departed, and the simulated desert environment was in the process of being cleaned. Silmula Sorafax, the briefing team, and the six humans gathered in a conference room and listened for hours as the specialists and the crew of the Palantia Lisa shared stories from the re-settlement of the other two groups.

When the others finally wandered away, the large white cat looked at the four monkey mammals who had lived, for several Satamia days, as sapient reptiles. “Even though it feels like this project is complete, it has just entered a new phase that will stretch on for thousands of years. Non-material beings will watch over the reptiles constantly, and several times a year, a ship will visit the three planets to see how they are doing. For the rest of our lives, I, and you four, will be part of that process. As long as you are all together on the Manessa Kwi, it will probably be the ship assigned to make those visits.”

“I must admit,” Boro began with a slight smile, “I’ll be curious to see —

from a safe distance, of course — what kind of world they make for themselves.”

The large cat curled her lips and nodded. “And Mati now begins Psychic Development training.”

The pilot cringed slightly.

“Kibi can show you the way, but it is best, Kibi, to not attempt to describe the experience, as it is different for each person. Boro’s introductory class, for

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example, was disguised as juggling lessons, and Sata began the process by joining a dance troop.”

Boro’s mouth opened with surprise for a moment, then changed to a knowing smile. Sata just stared with wide, curious eyes.

“Perhaps both of you will someday choose to go through the whole program. I do not know. For now, farewell. I will see you in the station often, and occasionally on missions.” The large cat brought her mouth to each of their necks and gave them a lick. She saved Kibi for last, and made it especially wet. Then she walked out of the room.



Life on Satamia Star Station began to settle down for the crew of the Manessa Kwi, as much as life can ever settle down for members of the Transport Service who are always on call for whatever universe work might arise.

Kibi returned to her training, and a day later, Mati stepped into the simple doorway beyond the little bubbling fountain. Sata returned to her dance troop with a new light in her eyes and more passion in her movements than ever before. Boro introduced Rini and Mati to the joys of swimming and fishing in the underwater world beneath the halls and balconies of the star station.

Ilika and Kibi worked with Melorania to plan the lessons and cross-training that each crew member needed, and the types of missions that would best build their knowledge and skills. They agreed that the little ship was ready to move beyond simple cargo runs, but the head of the Transport Service didn’t yet say what she had in mind.



Two slender monkey mammals strolled, hand in hand, along the first balcony overlooking Green Hall. A chuckle would occasionally come from one or the other, even though no spoken words passed between them.

Suddenly Rini recognized the place he had been looking for. Leaves of the great station tree shielded a small bench from view, so he steered Mati toward it.

Mati knew something was up, but Rini carefully hid his intentions in a corner of his mind. She sat down and couldn’t help but smile.

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Rini didn’t sit. Instead he went to his knees in front of her and pulled a small box from his pocket. He opened it to reveal a tiny pastry, good for two bites at the most.

Mati laughed deeply as she relived the bitter-sweet memory of watching Rini accidentally marry a desert girl.

He waited until she recovered from her laughter and dried her tears. I once made a big mistake, he began, and I did my best to fix it. Back on Sonmatia Seven, you asked me to marry you, but then things got really busy.

Mati grinned. Really, really busy!

If you’re still interested, I think we can find the time now, he continued, offering her the pastry.

She took a bite, then placed the other half in Rini’s mouth. Let me think

. . . she pondered for him to hear, I have to meditate with some bears this afternoon, then I’m helping to put up decorations for the party . . . yeah, I think we can squeeze it in.

Rini chuckled, then joined Mati on the bench. Only problem is, I don’t know how they do it here.

Mati pulled a knowledge pad from her pocket and touched a key. “Who do we talk to about getting married?”

A map appeared on the screen. Blue Hall, balcony two, she silently shared.

The pair hopped up and strode toward a ramp with purpose and determination in every step they took.



The glowing purple ball of light listened to Mati and Rini describe their desire to be married. It overheard the unspoken thoughts that passed between them, and peered into their memories of childhood, slavery, test, journey, and selection. Finally, it scanned the universe records of their service on the Manessa Kwi, including the recent Great Transformation they endured together.

“I see the problem,” the being of color and light said when the two monkey mammals had said all they could think of to say. “Because of the culture into which you were born, you conceive of marriage as something that someone else does to you — a priest, whatever that is. I’m sorry, but you are about as

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married as any two creatures can be. What you really want to know, it seems to me, is how you can celebrate your marriage, and share your happiness with the citizens of Nebador. Am I not correct?”

Rini and Mati looked at each other. Several thoughts passed between them before Mati spoke. “And . . . we want to know . . . that our marriage won’t be a problem for anyone . . . and if it ever is . . . they’ll tell us and . . . you know . . . help us fix it . . .”

“You can assume all that,” the glowing purple light assured. “Your captain watches over you, as do your other teachers and trainers. Melorania and Kerloran, and others even greater, know what is in your hearts at all times.”

After a long silence, Mati and Rini both nodded. “So . . . how can we . . .

celebrate?” Rini asked.

“There’s a very creative equine who’s in charge of the party this evening.

Let’s go talk to him, shall we?”



After a long day of excitement that included the successful completion of the reptile re-settlement mission, the Satamia sun once again began to set relative to the star station’s main hall. Ilika and Kibi wandered up from the ship after checking the galley stocks. They didn’t see any of their other crew members anywhere.

Kibi looked worried, but Ilika grabbed her and pulled her toward one of the kitchens that obviously needed help carrying food out to the tables.

“They’ve earned our trust, and both relationships are deepening after their recent experiences. We can always find them with their bracelets if we really need them.”

Kibi let out a long breath. “You’re right. Mati said she’d be hanging decorations. I’m just so used to her hobbling along on a crutch . . .”

“I bet she’ll be dancing tonight!”

Kibi smiled. “I will be, too!”

They helped birds and reptiles push carts and carry trays for half an hour, then found a bench where they could snuggle close together as brilliant music announced the star station’s evening party. But for some reason, the dance floor remained closed, roped off by a blue cord. People gathered on couches, benches, and perches, or just floated on the surface of the large pool,

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hundreds of sparkling eyes wondering what surprise might be in store.

The first song ended, and an ursine drummer took up a slow, steady beat as a spotlight found a slender female monkey mammal riding on the back of a large golden equine. Horse and human approached the dance floor, and long legs easily stepped over the blue cord.

The human slid off the sleek golden fur, but instead of standing, crumpled to the ground. The audience gasped. A spider stepped forward and handed her an old, tattered crutch.

Kibi and Ilika looked at each other, both grinning.

The horse walked away, and with dramatic effort, the girl got to her feet and stood alone.

Suddenly another musician plunged furry fingers into his keyboard, just as a fanator swooped into the main hall and circled, a slender human boy riding.

Huge wings beat the air and sent leaves fluttering and decorations swinging as the giant bird brought itself and its passenger to a halt just above the dance floor, then settled with strong webbed feet right in front of the girl and her crutch.

Kibi put her arm around Ilika as they continued to watch.

The boy stepped down clumsily, clearly not used to riding, and the audience chuckled. The fanator departed, and the boy bowed to the girl, who pretended to be embarrassed and shy.

Just then a large monkey mammal, wearing crude wool clothing, stepped onto the dance floor. He grabbed the girl and started pulling her away. A musician somewhere added tense, dramatic music.

The slender boy stood alone with sad, downcast eyes.

The girl suddenly lifted her crutch and started swinging at the large man.

He cowered and backed away, and the girl ran into the boy’s waiting arms.

The audience cheered and honked with happiness, but fell silent when another human girl, dressed in a flowing green gown, danced toward them with seductive movements. She hid her face with a long green scarf as she coyly took the boy’s hand, causing him to forget, it seemed, all about the girl he had just embraced. In a trance, he joined in her sensuous dance and followed her.

The audience moaned and screeched with anger.

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The music changed to a fast and anxious rhythm as the boy shook himself out of the trance, planted his feet, and crossed his arms.

The audience cheered and the seductive girl danced away, even as the boy returned to the girl’s arms. They took hands and bowed in several directions to the many creatures around them.

When the room finally fell silent, the girl spoke. “I am Mati, a simple monkey mammal from a backward little world called Sonmatia Three. I am honored to be the pilot of the Manessa Kwi, and happy beyond words to tell all of you that I love this freckled boy, and will be his girl as long as I have life.”

The hundreds of Nebador citizens in the room roared and squawked with approval.

“I am Rini, same backward little planet.”

Chuckles rippled through the huge room.

“I was a slave, and now I am Manessa’s watch. I love this girl, and will be her boy as long as she will have me.”

The audience roared with approval, and on cue, the musicians began a slow, intimate song. The two slender youth began to dance, alone on the dance floor, together in the limelight. Their timid, clumsy movements brought smiles to many watchers, who waited silently outside the blue cord.

When the first dance ended, the pair of monkey mammals bowed, helpers quickly removed the cord, and dozens of creatures headed for the dance floor.

As thrilled as Mati was to be sharing her marriage with all the people of Satamia Star Station, her knee soon yelled at her to slow down and spend time on a cozy couch. Many creatures came by to congratulate the couple, and often they carried baskets or trays from the snack tables.

Silmula Sorafax and Toran Takil appeared about an hour later. They sat side by side on the floor in front of the couch, which placed their heads at the same level as Mati’s and Rini’s.

“You two are married, aren’t you?” Mati inquired.

“Yes,” the female cat said with glowing eyes. “And there are forms of

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marriage that go beyond mortal life, beyond what most people call marriage.”

“You two have such a bond,” Toran Takil began, “because of your mental link. We have another type that will, if we are strong and true, survive death.”

Rini and Mati sat silently, pondering what the large cats had just shared, and looking into their beautiful feline eyes. Mati looked mostly at Toran Takil, and could feel her heart beating faster and her skin becoming hot.

Boro appeared. “Sata’s in a circle dance with some reptiles. May I dance with my pilot?”

Mati quickly hopped up, glad for a reason to break the male cat’s spell.

Rini smiled, having easily seen and felt Mati’s reaction to Toran Takil. As soon as Boro and Mati were gone, he turned back to the cats. “I have a funny question.”

The cats’ ears twitched as they looked at him.

“Why do I get the feeling that . . . Kerloran and Melorania knew, all along, that the homeless reptiles needed a jungle?”

Toran Takil looked at his mate with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Of course they did,” the female cat answered. “It is not the purpose of the universe to get things done as quickly and efficiently as possible. That’s a mortal preoccupation, especially strong in monkey mammals, but we all feel it to one degree or another. The purpose of the universe is experience and personal growth. If Melorania, Kerloran, and others like them, just did everything without helpers like us, none of the citizens of Nebador would get any training. Small minds with a little knowledge and power try to keep it to themselves. Real wisdom is for sharing.”

Rini nodded thoughtfully.

Boro and Mati soon returned from the dance floor, and a moment later Sata appeared, nearly out of breath but smiling.

Toran Takil touched Silmula on the shoulder, and they bowed and slipped away.

A minute later, Ilika and Kibi wandered over, arms around each other.

Kibi looked at Mati and Rini. “You two have gotten us talking about marriage. We agree we’re not as ready as you, but we’re thinking about it.”

Boro exchanged looks of understanding with his captain, and Sata grinned at Kibi.

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Mati danced whenever the music moved her, but also listened to her new muscles and joints, and often found a couch where she could snuggle with her beloved Rini. More creatures wished them well in their marriage, and sometimes left invitations to eat or play together.

Kibi noticed the tenderness growing between Sata and Boro, and it made her even more determined to learn, along with everything else she was learning, how to be Ilika’s faithful companion and lover.

Sata was on the dance floor almost constantly, with Boro, or anyone else who would dance with her. But her mind often recalled what Silmula Sorafax had said, that her dance training was just an introduction to something greater.

Boro could feel dreams and desires inside himself coming to the surface.

As he watched Sata dance with some nimble-footed birds, he knew he was no longer too gentle for man’s work or too clumsy for woman’s work. By combining the two, he was just right.

Rini sensed he had become part of something bigger than anything he had ever imagined. Mati, the Manessa Kwi, and the homeless reptiles were all parts of it, but it stretched far out into the universe, farther than his mind could follow. He smiled, knowing he would just have to wait and see.

Ilika looked around at his solid engineer, his bright-eyed watch, his brave pilot, his young but rapidly growing navigator, and, longest of all, at his sweet steward. For perhaps the first time, he felt confident that they had all firmly planted their feet on the path to becoming citizens of Nebador.

After a few more songs, just as the crew of the Manessa Kwi was beginning to yawn and think about cozy beds in their cabins, all six mission bracelets chimed.

They looked at each other and laughed.



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Deep Learning Notes

We humans of planet Earth have no experience with projects that can “stretch on for thousands of years.” Rome can claim more than a thousand years of history from its founding to its fall (-753 to +476, not counting Byzantium), but that history was divided into three major periods (monarchy, republic, and empire). Most leaders had their own priorities, and often ignored, or completely undid, the accomplishments of previous leaders. Some of our most durable architecture survives the millennia, but rarely in a usable form; an exception is St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, with wooden trusses that have been under stress for more than a thousand years, but only because the building has received constant care and maintenance. Our most recent building spurt, during the 20th century, will probably not leave much of enduring value, as it was all built with the assumption that electricity would be cheap and plentiful. Any building over about 4 stories tall becomes uninhabitable without electricity for heating, cooling, ventilation, water pressure, and elevators.

A few of our stories survive the millennia. We still read and love Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey, written more than 2500 years ago. But much did not survive, such as the contents of the ancient library of Alexandria, Egypt.

Medieval monks labored for centuries to copy fading manuscripts, and they saved much, but much more was lost between the Roman Empire (400s) and the Renaissance (1400s). Today, as we surf the internet, dead links often outnumber good ones, and we wonder what is being lost every day.

What qualities would a society need to have to realistically consider taking on projects that would “stretch on for thousands of years”?

It is calculated that we need to store the wastes from our nuclear power plants for about 25,000 years before they will be safe. What physical and organizational structures might make this possible?

Does it seem right that Nebador REQUIRES certain training programs and

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experiences for its people, and sometimes even disguises them as something else (like Boro’s juggling lessons)? How is this different from slavery?

To some people, “marriage” is the forming of bonds and the making of commitments between two people. To others, it is a legal contract, and a ceremony in a church or temple with a priest of some kind. To most people, it is a combination of the two. Some people make the mistake of doing the legal contract and ceremony, but forget to build the personal bonds and commitments. Whether you once did in the past, or in the future hope to enter into such a relationship, what personal, legal, religious, or social elements do you think the event should have?

What differences can you see between those who “watch over” the people of Nebador (like Melorania and Kerloran), and those who “watch over” us in our society (bureaucrats, police, etc.)?

Who was the large monkey mammal wearing fuzzy material, and whom did he represent?

Who was the human girl wearing a flowing green gown, and whom did she represent? What meaning might the color green have in this situation?

The exchange of marriage vows parallels any social exchange, and sets it apart from all economic exchanges. If we both have cookies, I give one of mine to you, and you give one of yours to me, we both end up with the same economic value, and so the exchange was a waste of time economically. But socially we just established a deeper level of trust, and we might have started a friendship that will have great value to both of us in the future. In the case of marriage vows, I pledge life-long companionship and love to you, and you do the same to me. In your opinion, have we gained anything?

Advanced students: Although human religions vary widely in their concepts of

“life after death,” they have even less to tell us about “love after death.”

Assuming, for a moment, that marriage could survive death, several questions

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arise. How good would a marriage have to be to make the people in it WANT

it to continue after death? Since “bread-winning” and “house-keeping” are probably not part of spirit life, what “job” would you want to have, and what

“job” would you want your partner to have, in a spirit-life marriage? If a couple wanted their marriage to survive death, what should they do in their mortal-life marriage to prepare themselves?

Advanced students: “It is not the purpose of the universe to get things done as quickly and efficiently as possible. . . . The purpose of the universe is experience and personal growth.” Which people and institutions in your society would agree with this idea? Which would disagree? Are the two purposes completely incompatible, or is there some overlap?

Advanced students: “If Melorania, Kerloran, and others like them, just did everything without helpers like us, none of the citizens of Nebador would get any training.” This explains why deep-space response ships have a crew of six, while (using voice commands) they really only need a crew of one or two.

What do you think would motivate powerful spiritual beings like Melorania and Kerloran to share universe work, instead of just doing it all themselves?

“Small minds with a little knowledge and power try to keep it to themselves.

Real wisdom is for sharing.” Have you met anyone who fits into the first category? The second category?

Why did Toran Takil “slip away” before Kibi returned to the couch?

For each of the six crew members of the Manessa Kwi (or just your favorite), what life-lessons have they recently learned? What life-lessons do you think they need to learn next?

Assuming their mission bracelets didn’t chime during the dance party just for a simple cargo run, what kind of mission do you think they’ll get?

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Neti’s Temptation

By Karen Buchanan

This story takes place the morning after the group is trapped by high tide on the rocky coast in Book Two: Journey.

Neti couldn’t sleep. She didn’t toss and turn because she didn’t want to wake Miko, so she just looked up at the sky and counted stars. It was kind of fun because she had just learned to count not long before.

But soon she got bored with it. Something that happened the day before really bothered her. For the first time in months, maybe years, she wasn’t sure if Miko was the right boy for her.

After lying there for a long time, sometimes counting stars and sometimes just fuming, she saw a little morning light creep into the sky. She carefully slipped out from under her blankets.

“Neti?” Miko called in a groggy voice.

“Have to pee,” she whispered.

“Ok, good ni . . .”

Neti tiptoed through the camp, being careful not to wake anyone. Ilika and Kibi were snuggled close, and Buna and Toli were near each other but not touching. Boro and Sata weren’t sleeping close together yet, but Neti knew

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they would be someday. When she got near the beach, she climbed a small sand dune partly covered with wiry grass. She sat down on top and looked out over the wide beach and the calm water of the bay.

With her chin in her hands, she sat with her feelings, but no clear thoughts about anything came to her. Suddenly a sea gull landed on a nearby driftwood log and looked up at her.

“What is it about boys?” she asked the sea gull.

The sea gull cocked it head but didn’t say anything.

“I suppose you might be a boy. If you are, maybe you know the answer.

Why do we love boys, but they’re never as good as we think they should be?”

The sea gull squawked at Neti.

She felt in her cloak pocket and found a little piece of stale bread. “You’re lucky. There was a time this would have been my breakfast, and I wouldn’t have shared it with you! Here you go!” She tossed the bread toward the driftwood log.

The sea gull kept an eye on Neti as it hopped off the log and grabbed the bread. Before it got back to its log, a man came walking along the beach, so the bird spread its wing and took off.

“Hey! You didn’t answer my question!”

But the sea gull didn’t come back, so Neti gave up and looked at the man.

She knew she should go back to the camp and wake someone, just in case the man gave her any trouble, but she was still in a bad mood because of Miko, so she stayed on top of the dune.

The man wasn’t very old, maybe about Ilika’s age, and was dressed like any fisherman. He carried a bucket brimming with clams. When he got close, he stopped and looked up at Neti.

“Hello, fair maiden.”

Neti could feel her heart pounding. “Hello.”

“Are you all alone?”

“Sort

of.”

He came closer, and Neti could see that he was handsome. Her heart pounded louder.

“Would you like to help me clean these clams, then make a stew? My house is not far.”

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Neti couldn’t speak for a minute, so she coughed and tried to breathe. The young man noticed her confusion and smiled.

“Um . . . maybe . . . if you’ll answer a question for me first.”

“If it will help me win your heart, I’ll tell you anything!”

That’s what Neti was afraid of. Maybe the sea gull hadn’t been so bad. But she took a breath and decided to give it a try. “Why do girls always think boys are so wonderful and perfect, but they never are?”

The young fisherman squirmed and shrugged. “Um . . . because . . . no . . .

maybe because . . . I don’t know . . .”

Now

Neti

was

sure the sea gull had been more honest.

Suddenly the young man found his thoughts and said, “I guess girls are just made that way, and boys . . . are made like they are!”

Neti thought about his answer, then asked, “So what would you do if you were in a waterfall bowl and the tide was rising?”

“Easy. Sing fishing songs until the tide went out, or carve a piece of driftwood if I had my knife.”

“And if you came to a place where there’s hot steam hissing out of the ground?”

He backed up, frowned, and made signs to protect himself from evil.

“That’s from the Underworld, and I wouldn’t go near the place without a priest at my side!”

Neti smiled. She had just learned something, but knew she couldn’t tell the young, handsome fisherman. She almost wished the sea gull would come back.

The fisherman, with his bucket of clams, was still frowning. “Did you go near such a place? Places like that can put curses on people, you know.”

Neti laughed out loud.

“Mocking spirits and demons is dangerous!” He looked around with fear in his eyes. “Are you going to clean these clams with me, or not? If you won’t, there’s a girl up the beach about a mile who will.”

Neti was torn, just for a moment. Then she smiled and said, “I’m glad you have someone to share your clams with. I think . . . I’ll stay here.”

“Good day to you,” he said with a slight bow and headed along the beach, swinging his bucket of clams and whistling.

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Neti stayed on the sand dune for another half hour, thinking about what she had learned. The sea gull came back, and another, and they walked back and forth on the driftwood log, sometimes looking at each other, sometimes clicking their beaks together. Neti somehow knew that one of them was a boy, the other a girl, but she couldn’t tell which was which. She decided not to interrupt them with her thoughts, so she just watched.

After a few minutes, both sea gulls looked at Neti and squawked, but she didn’t have any more bread, so they flew away together.

When she finally tiptoed back to camp, Miko was still dead asleep, but Ilika was just coming out of the trees, so she went up to him, smiling.

“Guess what I just learned!” she said.



Afterthoughts

As

Book Six: Star Station is being published, Book Seven: The Local Universe has been written, Book Eight: Witness is about half-written, and Book Nine: A Cry for Help has been “assigned.” The Muse (or whatever you would like to call Her) is obviously not done with Nebador. And yet, this is a good time to pause. The essential Nebador story has been told, and most of the unanswered questions from the earlier books have been answered.

As I’m sure you know by now, this story isn’t really science fiction. That genre has done the great service of hosting (and, in a sense, protecting) those stories that attempt to explore our place in the universe. Ideally, that would be the task of religion, but it isn’t ready to take up that role yet. Perhaps it will be someday.

In the meantime, while waiting for Book Seven and beyond, the author invites all readers to dig deeper. The Deep Learning Notes are a good place to start.

But the most important “depth” can only be pursued in each of our lives, minute by minute, day by day. If the Nebador stories have anything to leave to the world, it’s a glimpse of the difference between REALITY, and the many layers of assumptions and myths that most people live by. If, while reading these stories, you have experienced even a tiny peek beyond normal “monkey mammal” thinking, then you have set your feet on the path to “Nebador” (by whatever name).

Good journey to you!

J. Z. Colby

2012

About the Authors

Born in the Mojave Desert, J. Z. Colby now lives and writes deep in a forest of the Pacific Northwest.

He has studied many subjects, formally and informally, including psychology, philosophy, education, and performing arts, but remains a generalist. His primary profession as a mental health therapist, specializing with families and young adults, gives him many stories of personal growth, and the motivation to develop his team of young critiquers and readers.

All his life, he has been drawn toward a broad understanding of human nature, especially those physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual situations in which our capacity to function seems to reach its limits. He finds fascinating those few individuals who can transcend the limits of our common human nature and the dictates of our cultures.

Karen Buchanan, 15, is a native of Quebec, Canada. She speaks both English and French fluently, is learning Spanish, and wants to learn German and Chinese someday. But she has discovered, in the last year, that there are much more important things in life, and is considering literature or art history at university.