Book 1 — Chapter 25

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Day: Hynyengo

Date: 17

Month: Nokaokarium 

Quarturn: 1618

Location

: The city of Melchior

 

Miles walked the hall toward the stairs slowly as he was still so fresh to Nokahme, he was taking every purposeful effort to learn its particularities. A wobbly floor board. A persnickety doorknob. A window whose glass glazing was questionable. He wanted to become accustomed to it all. For in his mind, buildings like this one, that have seen better days, often required a mild application to prevent damage from occurring. And while, generally speaking, a broken window wouldn’t be an adversity, he was fully aware he was in an environment where a broken window could be deemed a financial calamity. This was something he didn’t want to impart on his new hosts or home. Most especially the new hosts aspect, as he was still in a mild shock toward how kind they had thus far been. 

 

The night prior had been the “interview” that moved directly into “here’s your food” and quickly followed by “here’s your new room.” It all unfolded so quickly. Wayra was well prepared and accommodating; even being so kind enough as to have freshly washed linens ready to borrow until he could bring in his own. It was all a surprise, although he was told by Dagda that Wayra was a unique man; gifted and kind. 
 

The surprises didn’t end, as the room itself was one he wasn’t expecting. 

 

The room size was a welcome one, as it was larger than his last. It didn’t have many permanent features, such as a closet. However, it did have a large window, and a well-equipped fire-escape box. Additionally, it featured an adult bed, a desk and chair, a wall lamp to the bed, and several used wooden crate boxes that posed as bedside tables and a makeshift chest of drawers for clothing. It was something that stirred an interesting emotion in him; nostalgia.

 

The sentiment was roused by recalling the first “closet” he could remember having; an old broken refrigerator that was repurposed to store his clothing. And while he didn’t look back at his childhood with an inordinate amount of fondness; there was a certain comfort and wellbeing to be experienced in the parallel conditions. As if the resourcefulness amongst the conditions lent to the memory of the happier moments of his formative years.

 

But with the nostalgia came the melancholy, and in that, he didn’t linger long in the memories of days past; focusing on the present.  

 

Once he had been settled, Wayra had requested some standards concerning locks for the building in the case he were to venture out. After, he was essentially left to his own devices. Guided, but not hovered over. It all led to a very easygoing night that prompted a deep and restful sleep. And now, with a silent Nokahme as a backdrop, he was hoping to learn more about his new surrounds. 

 

As he descended the stairs toward the main floor, his eyes came to the inner wall of the vestibule. Meeting the ground floor, he stopped and took a moment to study it further. It seemed to be an announcement board for all who lived and worked there, as it was covered with mostly handwritten pages that included requests, directives, and, to his amusement, objections to those. 

 

He felt his mouth grin as one operational directive was noted by a resounding “NO!” Which was then followed by an emphatic notation of “this isn’t up for debate.” A note that had further been crossed out by the person who was none too happy with said note and made their thoughts known with a vulgar drawing that was scratched over, but still perceivable. 

 

In a more formal setting, such recalcitrance would have been looked on with an immense amount of gall, and most likely would have ended said employment. It was an interesting comportment that illustrated what could have been regarded as an indifference approach to the work culture of the pub. But as his eyes continued to skim the papers and catch notes, it occurred to him the dynamic was much more nuanced. Granted, there was an attitude of flexibility; but more so, the predominant approach was mutual respect. It was something that made sense, as Wayra had already impressed upon him as a measured person who inspired esteem. A regard that he seemed to return to everyone in earnest. All of it, he presumed, created an environment where the work got done, and done well; but not without the gripes and ribbings that all were free to express.

 

He let out a breath, as the notes on the message board were another mark of reference to calm his nerves. The decision he made was point by point, proving to have been the correct one. 

 

As his attention turned toward the pub itself, he paused as it was taken by a Watzeen sitting on a stool behind the bar, with a mug in hand, slowly sipping its contents. 

 

His pause lingered as he studied for a couple of moments. Upon examining the Watzeen, his presumption was they obviously moved as a woman. And a beautiful woman she was. While he personally hadn’t had a great deal of interaction with Watzeens through his life, as they were fairly societally exclusive to their own, what engagement he had been privileged to have, was always one of awe. Not only in their consistent beauty, but too, in their bravado. It was a confidence that wasn’t remarkable because of pretense; but because of its sincere merit. He had yet to engage a Watzeen that wasn’t everything they claimed.

 

But all his thoughts suddenly dispersed as the woman before him sighed aloud and spoke.  

 

“Are you going to hover in the vestibule all morning, or are you going to come in and sit? You’re creeping me out.” 

 

Miles could not help but grin, as the vocal cadence of the woman carried with it a tease and an irritation. Neither of which seemed more sincere than the other. 

 

He looked to the ground and nodded as he moved into the pub, to the front of the bar, and took a seat down from the woman. As he adjusted himself, he offered an excuse. 

 

“My apologies. I didn’t want to interrupt your morning constitution.”

 

The woman, who was bringing her cup up to her mouth, paused before its highly faded green glaze met her lips. Her eyes looked out from their sides as she spoke with a hint of a tickle. 

 

“Constitution? You’re a learned sort. Intelligent. You’re going to be fun.” 

 

Miles felt the light chuckle move to his lips as he leaned into the bar. 

 

“Learned? I flatter myself in agreement. Fun? …. Given the proper stimuli, I exude entertainment.”

 

The woman pulled the cup from her lips and smiled tightly as she tried to keep the liquid in her mouth. A breath and a swallow, and she let out a satisfied sigh as she mused. 

 

“Bless me, dear Deo. A lot of fun.”

 

He felt the chuckle move out of him again as she continued. 

 

“I’m Akiva, by the way. What …” Akiva’s grin increased as she seemed to be carefully choosing her words, then asked. “What name will I be, calling, you by?”

 

The laugh rolled out of him more vocally as he was surprised by Akiva’s forwardness and suggestiveness. He tried to retain his own composure as he editorialized his answer. 

 

“I was not expecting the morning to start like this. I … yeah. I’m Miles. A great pleasure to meet you.” 

 

“Likewise,” Akiva nodded with a continued smirk. Though she shook her head and cautioned with a chafe. “Ah… Obviously you’re new to Melchior. Learn quickly. This place will shatter every expectation. Both good and bad. Melchior isn’t for the faint of heart. But judging by your hands and arms, you know your way around the physical.”

 

Miles glanced down at his arms, as their strength was easy to observe in the sleeveless shirt he was wearing. He shrugged and responded in a flirtatious tease of his own. 

 

“I will keep that in mind. But your observations are correct. My body is … practiced.”

 

He could not help but laugh as Akiva near spit her beverage, as she didn’t seem prepared for his response. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand and took a moment to swallow. Catching her breath, she spoke with a gratified voice as her eyes cast toward the ceiling.

 

“Oh, thank you, Deo for this gift. I promise to play with it every day.”

 

His laugh came out unrestrained, as her words were sincerely tickling him in all the best ways. As his laugh subsided, he looked to Akiva, whose expression moved from playfulness to sincere questioning. 

 

“You’re Hume, right?”

 

He kept a light smile as he responded. 

 

“Far as I know, fully Hume. Born in Galu.” 

 

Akiva nodded as she spoke. 

 

“Yeah. Lawan seems to be where most of the Humes congregate. But you sure you’re all Hume? Not a little Lost People or anything? Your eyes are lavender. Don’t see that in Humes. Only Watzeen really … and the occasional Lost People, I’ve heard.”

 

“Truthfully, didn’t come from a family deep in ties. So if there is anything other than Hume, it’s beyond my knowing. But basic physicals have always reported full Hume. My eye color has been a topic of discussion before. You’re not the first to ask,” he responded to her question. 

 

His attention was taken by another woman walking from the vestibule into the pub, followed by the little girl Naira he had met the night prior. 

 

He could not help but smile, as Naira let out a jovial, “Hello, Akiva. Hello, Miles,” as she skipped to a table and crawled into a chair. 

 

“Morning, nugget,” Akiva responded while he greeted her with a “Hello, Naira.”

 

The woman called over to Naira as she moved behind the bar. 

 

“I’ll get your morning meal in a couple minutes. You make sure you have everything ready for school.”

 

The woman turned her attention to him, and with a welcoming smile, introduced herself. 

 

“Miles, right? I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet you last night. I was … hovering, but distractions abounded. I’m Ash.” 

 

He returned the smile as he spoke. 

 

“Pleasure to meet you, Ash. And indeed you’re correct. Miles.” 

 

“Be careful with this one, Ash. He’s an Interpersonal Relations Department intervention waiting to happen,” Akiva advised with a faux stress of warning.

 

The chuckle and head shake of denial moved forward before Akiva could even finish her depiction of him. Ash also found humor in Akiva’s brief, as she laughed robustly and responded. 

 

“Thank you for the counsel, Akiva.” 

 

But as the tease of the moment faded, Ash’s smile went with it, replacing itself with a charming expression of contentment. She let out a breath of inundation as she looked around, appearing to be deciding what to do first. Turning her attention again to Naira as she asked. 

 

“Naira, deosis; what do you want to eat?”

 

He turned as Naira jumped up from the chair and quickly made her way over to the stool next to him. As she moved to climb up, he asked. 

 

“Need a little boost?”

 

Naira let out a determined noise as she pulled herself up most of the way.

 

“I got it,” Naira responded in a strained voice. 

 

But after a moment, she had indeed climbed the stool and sat next to him with a happy “got it.” 

 

He looked to Ash, who beamed at Naira, but raised her eyebrows in waiting. Naira hummed thoughtfully for a moment, then spoke decidedly. 

 

“Laktawepa-nokoeatak.”

 

“You know we don’t have that, sweetness,” Ash vocally sighed with disappointment. “What else? That you know we have in the kitchen.” 

 

He smiled as Naira let out a small grunt of frustration. She thought for several more moments and let out a defeated sigh. 

 

“I don’t know. Whatever.”

 

“Whatever it is,” Ash responded with a hint of cheer as she turned and moved into the kitchen. It was a cheer that was met with another dissatisfied grunt from Naira. 

 

He looked over to Akiva, who was smiling behind her cup again, apparently enjoying the exchange. 

 

After only a moment, Ash returned from the kitchen with a small box in hand. He turned to look at Naira, as she let out an audible gasp of excitement and bounced in her chair. Ash set the box down in front of Naira and spoke in gentle fun. 

 

“It seems the kitchen deods and deosises have smiled upon you, as look what I have found. The laktawepa-nokoeatak that you wished for.” 

 

He felt the smile come on him naturally and brightly as Naira quickly opened the box and near-squealed with joy. Though his attention was taken by Akiva, who protested. 

 

“No! Where was that? I want some!” 

 

“I got that special for Naira yesterday and hid it. Because it’s only a small piece and it’s for Naira.” Ash explained.

 

He couldn’t help but chuckle, as Akiva’s face turned into one of sincere displeasure at being told there was none for her to be had. An expression that Ash brushed off with a light shake of the head. 

 

Ash turned her attention to him as she moved to say something, but paused as she searched him momentarily. Upon seeing something amiss, she looked at Akiva as she asked. 

 

“Did you offer Miles anything to drink?” 

 

Akiva’s face moved into one of perplexity as she responded. 

 

“Why would I? He’s more than capable of helping himself.”

 

“That may be true. But most people don’t presume and invite themselves when in new surroundings,” Ash retorted. 

 

“Uh!” Akiva exclaimed. “That’s such a Lost Peoples thing.” 

 

Ash let out a breath of frustration as she turned to him with an apologetic tone. 

 

“Sorry about that, Miles. Coffee? Tea?” 

 

“No apologies necessary. And yes, thank you, coffee would be perfect,” he answered.  

 

He watched Ash move over to the hot beverage machine as she spoke over her shoulder. 

 

“Perhaps not, but apologies for Akiva’s comment. She’s our resident menace and bigot.”

 

He laughed as Akiva’s head quickly turned and looked at Ash in disbelief. She smacked her hand down on the bar as she protested. 

 

“Now don’t be telling him damn lies. I mean, the menace part is wholly accurate … but I’m not a bigot. I’m an admitted and proud culturalist.”

 

“Culturalist?” he asked. “I’m not familiar with this term.” 

 

“Well, let me be clear here. I don’t judge people by superficial characteristics. That’s lazy reasoning at best,” Akiva explained. “I prefer to judge people by practices. Cultural practices. And as you well know, cultural practices are rarely particular to only one people. A stupid ass practice can be shared by Oken and Corichal. So again, it’s not the people, it’s the practice … Ash.” 

 

He felt the full laugh come to him as Akiva leaned toward Ash, as she emphasized her name. He looked to Ash, who rolled her eyes, but glimmered a smile to Akiva’s words. As Ash placed the cup down in front of him, he nodded in thanks and asked. 

 

“Thank you, Ash. So, you’re an ethnocentrist?” 

 

“No. Ethnocentrism is too broad. Which is lazy. When I dislike, it’s going to be culturally quintessential and really suck ass,” Akiva responded. 

 

He again felt the laugh come out as Akiva continued. 

 

“Plus … Ash … He’s Hume, not Lost People. So your lies and slanders wouldn’t have applied here.” 

 

“Okay. I admittedly exaggerated your ‘ism.' But I’m not convinced fully on the merit of being a culturalist. It’s a blatant generalization. You could never know an entire group of people, unless you’re referencing that group through the means of a stereotype or caricature," Ash argued. 

 

Akiva’s nose scrunched as she clarified. 

 

“You’re still presuming I’m attaching an identity to a random group. I’m not. I’m attaching it to a practice. A practice is a willful application of an idea or belief. Willful is the key word here. See here. Let’s take my fellow Watzeens as an example. The whole, how much we like to play games. Everyone knows this. You would say those words would be a prevailing generalization or caricature. While I would say it’s actually a cultural practice that is deeply rooted in our daily lives to the point we have days in honor of games. You have to exercise some critical thinking and nuance here. Shouldn’t have to spell this to y’all if you’re willing to be intellectually honest in this, or any conversation … Deo.” 

 

Akiva paused as she took a quick sip of her drink before continuing. 

 

“Do we have to play games? No. It’s a willful practice, one of choice, that can … Deo willing … transcend us amazing Watzeens and be passed on to y’all down here. But again, I’m attacking the willful practices first. The ‘who’ the people are is irrelevant. I mean, they still suck for doing said practices … but yeah.”

 

He looked at Ash as she shook her head with a vocal breath of exasperation. His attention moved to her as she turned to him and asked. 

 

“Full Hume? I wouldn’t have guessed with your eyes.” 

 

He didn’t have a chance to respond as Naira asked with light garble as she spoke around her food.

 

“Ash. What’s the difference between you and Miles?” 

 

Ash sighed, as she obviously knew it was a very complicated answer. She took a moment as she considered and spoke.  

 

“Well honey, we don’t know the full story. Because so much information was lost during the Bottleneck. But it’s believed that Lost Peoples and Humes are from the same planet. That Lost Peoples were … well …  are Humes; though we’re different now. The story is, Humes lived on a planet many galaxies away. These people, who were known as the Couriers … they had received a call for help from the Humes. They went to the Hume planet and found them desperately needing to move, as the planet was dying. The Couriers, who were very knowledgeable about the Universe, knew where the Humes would be happy. So they took several of their biggest ships, and invited hundreds of millions of Humes on, in order to move them. The Humes brought with them everything, from seeds to animals … to books and knowledge. The Couriers chose here and Mother World to bring them to. It so happened that many of the Couriers had grown to love the Humes and decided to stay here with them. The Couriers and Humes unioned and had families. This is where Lost Peoples come from. We look a lot like Humes, but we have a lot of genetic differences. But, we don’t know for sure if the story is correct, so that’s why we’re called Lost Peoples … as our history is a bit lost.”

 

“Hundred-million doesn’t seem like a lot. Did they bring all the Humes?” Naira asked.

 

Ash raised her eyebrows and looked to the bar, hesitating in answering the question. He knew it was a topic that was sensitive to their groups. But as a feigned smile came to her face, she sighed in defeat and spoke. 

 

“Well, I know you will grace if I’m lying to you, so I will just be honest. From what we understand, based on the little physical evidence and lore that remains; they did not. It’s believed they only took a small percentage of Humes from their world. They watched Humes for a time, and were very selective about who they invited once they revealed themselves. Granted, not in a manner of age or ability, but were selective in character. Asking only those of intelligence, kindness, humility, and truth to move on. It’s a tender topic for Lost Peoples and Humes, as we owe so much to the Couriers and we appreciate them. But conversely, we wonder how the Couriers could leave people behind; it strikes many as harsh.”

 

“Because they were smart,” Akiva snorted.

 

Ash turned toward Akiva and showed a serious expression. Akiva, who seemed surprised by Ash’s demeanor, spoke with a defensive pitch. 

 

“What? I said nothing shitty! I don’t know why y’all get so worked up about that. The Couriers were smart! Let me put it to you this way; if you’re trying to save the body, you cut the cancer out. That’s what they did. They chose to bring the Humes they deemed worthy and left the Humes who created all the problems to languish in the problems they created. They made a tough choice. But it was the right choice. Just because y’all couldn’t make that choice doesn’t mean it wasn’t a good one. Y’all so damn weird with your survivor’s guilt.” 

 

Miles looked at Naira, as she seemed to fully grasp what had been explained to her, though her facial expressions moved to questioning as she asked. 

 

“What happened to the Couriers?” 

 

“I actually can field this question,” Akiva spoke as she stood and moved to stand next to Ash. She leaned on the bar and looked at Naira with a soft, sincere expression. “Do you remember, nugget, when Wayra was away, and I took you to the smoking fields?” 

 

Naira nodded her head enthusiastically as Akiva continued.

 

“Remember those really beautiful bugs that kind of looked like miniature Watzeens? If you recall, I told you then that those bugs are very specialized. Meaning they have specific conditions and requirements they need to live. That’s why we couldn’t take one home. Because those bugs needed to be around those vents, as they provided them with the perfect environment to live. If they move from the vents, after a while, they get sick and die. A lot of life is very much like that. They have very specific environments they need to live in. Some, like the bugs, can live a little while before they die. Other things, like fish, will die really fast when out of their environment. The Couriers, unfortunately, while they could live here for a while, it wasn’t the best place for them. Their bodies couldn’t adapt fully. They got very sick, and either had to leave, or they stayed and died.” 

 

“That’s really sad,” Naira spoke softly. Though her thoughts changed quickly as she asked. “Is that why everyone here kind of looks the same?” 

 

“I don’t know about looking the same,” Akiva snickered as she stood erect and shrugged. “I personally find Watzeen far more beautiful than Lost Peoples,” Akiva glanced at Ash with a grin. “But if you’re asking why there isn’t a purple ball-shaped being with enormous feet, ten arms, and purrs when it’s happy living on this planet, it’s a matter of similar environmental tolerances. I mean yeah, we see many animals and plants adapt to new and changing stuff all the time as they will have evolutionary jumps. But for every success, there are hundreds of unadaptable failures. So Nugget … there are probably hundreds of planets with cute purple ball-shaped beings, who have enormous feet, ten arms, and purr when they are happy. But they couldn’t live here successfully any more than you or I could live on their planet.”

 

“I understand that. Why I can’t live underwater, because my body isn’t made for it,” Naira spoke with confidence. 

 

“Exactly!” Akiva responded as she reached under the counter and brought out a small basket with fruits and vegetables and set them down as she gestured and continued. “Here is some stuff I was hiding myself. Can have some for morning meal.” 

 

He smiled and nodded in gratitude, as Akiva quickly turned to Ash and spoke. 

 

“See, Ash? I’m helping.” 

 

Ash chuckled as Akiva took a piece of the vegetable and moved back to her stool behind the bar. As Ash let out a happy sigh, all attention returned to Naira, as she asked. 

 

“How come Lost Peoples still look like Humes if they had families with the Couriers?” 

 

Ash let out a groan as she spoke. 

 

“Naira, honey, that’s going to be really hard to explain. And so many questions. You still have school to get ready for.” 

 

Naira’s voice came out in a light plea as she spoke. 

 

“But I have a whole two hours before school. And I really want to know. I want to be the smartest in class.” 

 

Miles brought his hand up to his face as he tried to cover the grin that was prominent on his face as Naira was simply too curious and sweet not to sate; Ash pulled a stool and sat to it as she spoke. 

 

“Okay. I will try to answer this as simply but accurately as possible. As I said, we don’t know the full story. We don’t even remember what the Couriers looked like. But when they tested Lost Peoples, they found great strands of DNA that they deemed unknowable. But what they think happened is that when Humes and Couriers had families, the Courier genetics made some of the Hume genetics super dominant; in that they are passed down generationally. These traits are more superficial, like skin tone, hair type, or the raised patterns that start at our necks and move down our spines and out over our backs that all Lost Peoples have. So while my ancestors were probably Couriers and Humes, they gave me some superficial genetic stabilities that will be passed on to my children for hundreds of generations to come. Or so scientists believe. Now when Wayra and I have a little one for you to play with, they will positively look a lot like me, but again, those attributes are fairly superficial, so it is almost certain they will have Attata Graces.”

 

“That’s right,” Akiva offered. “There are some Lost Peoples Watzeens out there who look like any other Lost Peoples, but they have Watzeen wings, can fly, and have, like any Watzeen, an intense metabolism. It’s weird. Pure Watzeens wear it so much better.” 

 

Ash waved her hand at Akiva’s observation, but kept her attention on Naira as she asked. 

 

“Do you understand?” 

 

Naira nodded with a big smile. 

 

“Are we done with the questions for now?” Ash asked in a hopeful voice. 

 

He felt a surprise come to him as Naira turned her attention to him as she asked. 

 

“So why are you still Hume? Did the Couriers not like you?” 

 

He looked at Ash as her smile widened, as she looked relieved not to have to answer another question. His attention returned to Naira, whose large eyes waited eagerly for the answer. He smiled and asked of Ash. 

 

“Do you have an old frayed dish rag back there? Something I can tear apart a little. As this is going to need a demonstration.” 

 

Ash raised her eyebrows, as she seemed intrigued by how he was going to answer the question. She leaned over and reached under the counter, grabbing an old rag and handed it to him. He played with the fibers at the end of the rag, looking for a loose one as he explained. 

 

“As Ash told you, the Couriers came across galaxies to the Hume planet on many large ships. These ships were very special in that they could travel tens of thousands of light years in a small fraction of the time. Because space is vast.” 

 

“Gigantic,” Naira observed with a nod. 

 

“You know, for a light year, it’s supposedly impossible to travel that fast. But people believe the Couriers figured something out,” he smiled to himself as he found the fiber threads he was looking for within the rag. As he held the rag up, he continued. “I want you to imagine this rag as space. Where my right finger is; that is the Hume planet. Where my left finger is; that is the Courier’s ship. To cross this immense expanse of space, it would take a very long time. But the Couriers seemed to have known something wonderful about space. That there are these things called particles, and they are connected by a sort of invisible web that makes up space … when one particle is touched, it’s connected to a particle all the way on the opposite end of space. So they were able to do this.”

 

He pulled at the fibers he had selected, causing the rag to fold up into itself. He looked at Naira as her eyes widened and her face lit up with wonder as the 15 cm rag folded down to 1 cm. Naira gasped as she bounced on her seat excitedly. 

 

“How did you do that? Do it again!” 

 

Miles chuckled as he pulled the rag back out, and showed her the fibers as he explained. 

 

“You see here, this fiber goes all the way through the entire rag from this side to this side. Just like the connecting particles. So when you pull the fiber like so, you’re expanding the single fiber, which causes the surrounding fibers to contract.” 

 

He pulled the fibers again, folding the rag as Naira exclaimed.

 

“Neat!” So the Couriers made space shorter?”

 

He nodded as he continued his explanation. 

 

“Well, in a sense, they did. Not that they suddenly squished planets together when they pulled. But they were able to manipulate the folds of dimensions by pulling the example fiber. It took an endless journey and turned it into a quick journey by comparison. But Humes don’t live as long as a lot of others, like Watzeens and Corichals. So even a shortened journey would have been a little long for Humes. So they had these tubes that Humes could sleep in and not age, so when we got to the new home, it was like no time had passed.” 

 

Naira nodded and spoke. 

 

“Oh, like brother.” 

 

He felt a confusion move over him as he was perfectly unclear what Naira was referencing, but he forwent inquiring about her comment as he continued.

 

“There were many ships that took the Humes. It’s believed that my ancestors were on a Courier ship that something bad happened to it during its journey. While we don’t know exactly, it’s thought the ship broke and fell off the fiber. The Couriers spent many solar years on the ship fixing whatever broke and trying to get back on the fiber to bring us here. They worked long and hard till they were old themselves. Finally, they were able to fix the ship and get back on the fiber, and bring us here. By the time we got here, it was many hundreds of solar years after the first Couriers had arrived with the first Humes. The Couriers supposedly put us all here, because by that time, Jeahne was already separated from Mother World. Then the Couriers, who were too tired to go back home, landed the ship on Lahea’o and lived out their last days on it. In fact, if you look through a telescope at a certain part of Lahea’o, you can see the ship. Though it’s covered with a lot of moon dust now.” 

 

He looked at Naira as her eyes showed a slight sadness to them as she spoke softly. 

 

“They were very brave.” 

 

“They were indeed,” he nodded and agreed. “That’s why many people, especially Humes, every year have a special day to honor them. Thank them for what they did to re-home us safely. Maybe this year you can help me when I honor them.” 

 

He was happy to see Naira’s face light up again as she nodded excitedly. 

 

“I want to do that!” Naira bounced in her seat as she asked. “Ash, can I do that?” 

 

He looked at Ash as she smiled broadly and nodded. 

 

“Of course you can. I will be happy to participate as well.” 

 

Naira’s smile increased even more brightly as the excitement was coming over her, but suddenly her face dropped as she spoke softly. 

 

“Uh-oh. I need to find my sweater for school. I’ll be back.” 

 

As Naira jumped off the stool, she quickly headed toward the vestibule and up the stairs. 

 

He turned his attention from Naira to Ash as he handed her back the rag. She took it and mused as she commented. 

 

“That was an impressive demonstration. I’ve heard that theory but never seen it so wonderfully explained, especially for a child to grasp, as those are complex concepts.” 

 

He took the cup Ash had brought and took a sip, as his hunger and thirst were creeping on him. He pulled the cup from him and savored the flavor as he shrugged.

 

“It was something I came up with during my education. My pleasure to share it. She’s a ball of energy and sweetness.” 

 

Ash sighed with a slight hint of weariness as she spoke. 

 

“She is precocious and … energetic is a good word to describe it.” 

 

“You’re the one who wants to be a mom,” Akiva teased Ash with a grin. 

 

Ash turned towards Akiva and protested slightly. 

 

“And I still do. Wanting to be a mom and becoming tired from being a mom aren’t mutually exclusive.”

 

He felt the question come out before he considered if it was an appropriate question. 

 

“Naira’s not your daughter?” 

 

“Not officially … yet. Wayra is Naira’s elder brother … and Wayra’s my boyfriend. So since Wayra is raising her, when he and I met, I happily fell into the role of a mother. We’ll be making it official someday,” Ash smiled with bright certainty. 

 

“I can see why you’d want to be. She’s a joy,” he commented.

 

Ash leaned back in her chair to stretch as she yawned and teased. 

 

“Don’t be too fooled by her. Naira will steal your heart, and then perfectly manipulate you into giving in to all her little wants.” 

 

“She’s so sweet, she deserves all the good things in life, so it’s of little problem,” he offered with a bright smile of his own. 

 

“So are all your conversations this intellectually engaging?” he asked with a hint of a tease. 

 

“Pffft,” Akiva sounded with disdain. “No. Most of the time we talk about the dumbest shit. The other day … fabric prisons. For like, an hour. I nearly stroked out from all the … stimulation," Akiva replied sarcastically. 

 

“I’m sorry, a fabric prison?” he asked with genuine curiosity. 

 

“That’s what Akiva calls socks,” Ash responded with a chuckle, obviously fueled by Akiva’s description. 

 

“Because they are!” Akiva protested. “They’re horrible things and I will never understand how you can wear them. Getting hot just thinking about them.” 

 

Miles felt himself laugh heartily, as Ash, who too was laughing, bounced off her seat and moved through the swing door into the kitchen. 

 

His attention was drawn back to Akiva, as she made an exclamation noise, which was subdued by the beverage in her mouth. Her eyes widened as she swallowed quickly and spoke. 

 

“I just thought of something. You’re Hume. Y’all are the ones who brought coffee with you.”

 

“So it’s said. Supposedly brought tens of thousands of seeds with us. Apparently not everything took,” he acknowledged. 

 

Akiva laughed and spoke with sarcasm. 

 

“Yeah. I mean, who could possibly know that seeds wouldn’t survive an evolutionary vacuum? Idiots,” Akiva continued to ponder. “But so happy coffee did. It’s amazing. Couple other supposed Hume foods are good too. Though can’t stand chocolate; that shit’s an abomination.” 

 

He chuckled at her deeply hateful tone, but pressed her contradiction.

 

“Wait. How can you not like chocolate, but like coffee? They are so similar with the bitter and …” 

 

Akiva interrupted with a laugh. 

 

“Hey. We just met. I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

 

His laugh came out boisterously, as Akiva’s tone and choler particularly tickled him. But his laugh tapered off, as his attention was drawn to Ash returning from the kitchen and set what looked to be her own morning meal to the bar and returned to her chair as she asked. 

 

“How did you sleep last night? Hope the accommodations weren’t too … humble for you. Sorry to say the last occupier of that room had appropriated the best furniture that’s available around the building. So, it’s unfortunately the best we have at the moment.” 

 

“Not in the least,” he shook his head with an honest tone. “I slept better than I have in days. And the room is suitable. Furnishings are rustic, yes … but fine. I know what it may imply, being a transplant from Hylatee; but I grew up in northeastern Galu. And if you know anything about the area, you know it’s Melchior lite.” 

 

He found the smile come to him with a hint of pride, as both Ash and Akiva found his words to be quite humorous and both laughed with vigor. He was truly enjoying his interactions with them. But the attention on his thoughts didn’t linger as Ash, calming her laugh, reflected. 

 

“We’re from similar cloth. I’m a product of Melchior and am intimate with furnishing lack. My mom always recollects how my first crib was a dresser drawer that remained so until I got too big for it. Then it was on to the homemade bed made from scrap pieces. But had the concern, it might have been a culture shock for you.” 

 

“Yeah, no,” he offered in a casual tone. “I got a little pampered by Hylatee, but my roots are pervasive, so I’m acclimating well. I have some furniture in storage, that once settled, I may bring in just to free up those pieces.” 

 

“I love the way you framed that,” Akiva teased. “The way you benoble yourself with the narrative of “I’ll let go of the shit pieces that y’all provided for me, for my stuff, which is clearly nicer,’ to ‘free the shit pieces up’ for the benefit of others; of course.” 

 

He felt his eyes widen with Akiva’s open derision. But as he glanced at Ash, he let the grin pull at his mouth, as he was learning quickly the best way to engage with Akiva was to be just as sardonic as she was. 

 

“And I love the way you framed that. The way you’re trying to manipulate me by shaming me, via my possessions, in hopes I would succumb to such disgrace and relinquish said possessions in an attempt to foster solidarity with the new people around me. And with you, I’m sure, being more than willing to relieve my guilt by taking the stuff off my hands. Of course.”

 

His grin widened as Akiva’s eyes narrowed to a glare at both his words and Ash’s vigorous laughter. 

 

“Ah damn!” Akiva yelled as she slammed her hand to the bar in what appeared to be defeat. “I really thought you were going to be malleable. You coming in here, looking so eager to please, thought you would be an easy mark. I’ll give you the ‘well-played’ credit. Ass.” 

 

As he joined Ash in the laughter at Akiva’s expense, his attention was redirected. Wayra entered from the foyer and approached Ash, who greeted him with a hug and a kiss. He found his laugh relaxing, as Wayra pulled back from Ash, looked around, and asked. 

 

“I trust by the laughter you’re becoming well acquainted with everyone.” 

 

He nodded to Wayra’s statement, though Ash took the opportunity to explain the situation. 

 

“Akiva was showing herself. Trying to gauge what she can get away with concerning our new recruit. He’s not having it, leading to Akiva’s tantrum, and our laughter.” 

 

“Pffttt,” Akiva scoffed loudly. “Tantrum, my ass. You wish you could invoke such from me. I don’t react; I only act.” 

 

As everyone took a moment to process Akiva’s words, they, too, shared the subsequent laughter toward them. It was a laughter that Akiva joined in with as she confessed between breaths. 

 

“Yeah … that was an extreme ‘full-of-myself’ … even for me.”

 

But as the laughs again naturally dispersed, Wayra let out a contented sigh and addressed him directly with an enthusiastic pitch. 

 

“Anywho … While I have my coffee, and you have your morning meal, let’s start getting you familiar with the rest of Nokahme.”​​​