Wind Spindle Chapter 18

 

Kallo had seen some dark-skinned people from the Bowl before, but never so close for so long.  She marvelled at Dr Abeni's skin; the depths of purple, red and sepia shades seemed to shimmer from within, as if from a base layer of gold.  Like the richly variant and multidimensional colors in flowers, her skin glowed.

Dr Abeni smiled at her knowingly, and Kallo flushed.

"I was staring.  Staring is rude."

The doctor laughed, showing even white teeth.  "You see mostly brown skin every day, I imagine?"

"Yes." said Kallo, "Your skin is so beautiful."

"I take both your gaze and your words to be a compliment.  Thank you." 

Kallo thought for a moment, wising she had prettier words, then called for Aiko. “Aiko, can you teach me to talk like they do here?  And the manners and everything?”

“Yes,” said Aiko.  “Your language center will increase in development soon after the procedure.  It’s an ideal time to learn these things.  I can help you track your progress as you grow in your verbal and social skill, but you must interact with as many people as possible, too.  You must master listening and learn patience with others through practice, and interact with others to form relationships.”

“OK,” sighed Kallo.  “I have to try.”

Kallo lay with her cheek on AIko's fur, reciting after Aiko,. "Ways to express gratitude: 'Yes, please.  How kind you are.  I appreciate your time.  You've gone to great trouble for  me.  Wait...gone to great trouble?  That sounds bad." 

It recognizes that someone has done a lot for you.  Recognition is respect.  All beings need respect.”

 Kallo thought about it.  "Oh.  OK.  Let's go through them again," But she winced and stopped.

 "More bone growth?" asked Aiko.

 "It aches.  But maybe I should just learn to take it." 

"To tolerate it, one should say," corrected AIko, "But that is more stress on your system than necessary.  You must grow and heal efficiently.  Unnecessary stress will slow your process.  I've called the masseuse." 

The yurt was a mess of hookas, bottles and cups, with clothing and blankets tossed around. It was dark, with a deep chill. The central heat must be out.  Tassy squinted in the gloom as she stepped over two couples lying on the rug under heaps of bankets and clothes . It smelled of burnt stew, milk vodka, vomit and tobacco ashes.  

She recognized Del’s profile on a pillow of clothes.  One arm was thrown over a prone, blanketed figure.   It wouldn't be Kallo, of course, but Tassy hoped it wasn't a girl.  For some reason that would hurt more.  She found a sheepskin hassock on its side, turned it upright, and sat.

“Del?”

He stirred, groaned, and looked up at her over the edge of the blanket.

“Oh.  Hey.” He blinked at her.  His eyes had hollows under them.  He wheezed and then coughed, clearing his throat several times.

“What are you doing?”

He frowned at her.  “Trying to sleep. What’s it look like?”  

Tassy rose and took a step toward the door.

“Hey, hey, wait.  Sorry. I’m sorry, alright?  Have a sit. What’s wrong?”

Tassy’s eyes wandered over the mess.  "Do you know about Mano?”

“He shut me out.  Of everything.”

The young woman under the blanket next to Del sat up suddenly, her blue-black hair tangled over her face.  

“What time is it?” she said.

Tassy said, “You mean what sol?”

The girl laughed.  “Yeah, maybe. Hey, I love your hair.” she said to Tassy, staring at her  pigtails. “How do you get it metallic silver like that?”

“It’s a mineral process I formulated.  I do it myself.”

“Wanna do mine sometime? I'd love to show up at a gig with that.  I've never seen it before.”

 “Um.  Maybe. But right now I gotta talk to Del.”

“Oh.  Sure. I gotta get home anyway.  I'm Lorma,” she said, stroking her hair behind her ears.  She gave Tassy a friendly smile, looking directly at her with bright silver eyes.  It was impossible not to smile back.

"I'm Tassy,"

Lorma looked at Del.  “You need to clean this place up,” she said, continuing to run her fingers through her hair.  “And get a partner. You need practice.” 

Tassy blushed.  Del bristled.  

“What do you know anyway?" he shot back as Lorma rose and pulled on clothes. "You liked the vodka fine, I remember." He coughed for a time, then gave one last parting shot, "You can go jump off.”  

Lorma buttoned her sheepskin coat and picked up a Tovshuur guitar case.  "Find another player for your next party. The booze should equal the music," She grinned at Tassy one last time before leaving.

Del began wrestling into a shirt.  “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Mano is dead, Del!”   

Del was watching her.  “Yeah.”

“I mean-”

“What are you worried about?” Now Tassy noticed his eyes had a sly, hooded look. “It’s your lab.  It's in your name.  You're set.”

“That’s not what I mean!”

“It should have been me, weaving his shroud, carrying him out to the mesa." for a few moments he stared at nothing.  "I was his son.” He began worming into his pants under the blanket.

“I know he wanted it traditional.  The bots just put his body in a crevice, facing East.  No fuss. But can’t we talk about-”

“He shut me out, Tassy!" Del stumbled to his feet.  His breathing was ragged as he paced the yurt.  "I went up to the tower and there was a message for me, a last message.That I was out.  Out of everything I built, everything I worked for. It’s all gone. I can’t log in.  I’m even shut out of access to the grid. I can only get in through someone else’s account.  Can you believe that?” The rage was building, making him begin to tremble; the muscles in his jaw were jumping.  Tassy had never seen him like this.  It chilled her.

“What are you going to do?” 

“There are a lot of things I could do.” he was glaring at her.  “ A lot of things. Relying on old friends isn;t one of them. But I could do a lot of things.” The threat seeped through the room like a dark smell.  Tassy’s heart was pounding. She stood up to leave.

“Hey, hey,” he said, before launching into a coughing fit.  He cleared his throat. “Hey, Tassy, look, don’t be like that.  You still care about me. Doncha?” He grinned at her, but it wasn’t the warm, charming smile he used to give her.  It was a predator showing teeth.

Tassy walked carefully out of the yurt and looked back before she began to run for the tube station.