The Star View (The Totality Cycles Book 2) Read online

  The Star View

  Book Two of The Totality Cycles

  Published by Seaside Grape Publishers LLC

  Copyright ©2017 by A. Y. Emanuel

  Illustrations by A. Y. Emanuel

  Cover art by A. Y. Emanuel

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in

  any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the

  Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Books by Ako Emanuel

  The Ava’Lonan Herstories Series

  Book One: The Age of Light

  Book Two: Light Fallen

  Book Three: The Rites of Darkness

  Book Four: Darkness Risen

  Book Five: The Sign of Turning

  The Sheltered Land Tenets

  Book One: Overland

  The Lerem Must Rise Promises

  Book One: Lerem – Emergence

  Book Two: Lerem – Rise

  The Ways of Magic Series

  Book One: Magic World

  Book Two: Magic Hold

  Book Three: Magic Child

  Book Four: Magic Meld

  The Overt Wars Saga

  Book One: The Secret Defense

  Book Two: The Secret Tactics

  Book Three: The Secret Recruits

  The Korsh Herem Wars

  Book One: Woman

  Visit our website at www.seasidegrape.com

  Follow us on Twitter: @seasidegrape

  Email us at [email protected]

  View One

  Okon?! Kreceno’Tiv found himself about to shout.

  Ro-Becilo’Ran grabbed his arm, forestalling his outburst.

  “No!” he hissed, “it’s not her, don’t!”

  “What...?! But...!” Kreceno’Tiv looked again. The little Heretian girl in the display looked a lot like Okon, but there were differences. Then he looked deeper, and saw the others of her species in the display, and his elytra-pace clacked for a completely different reason.

  Well, not completely different, he thought bitingly. Using sophonts in the exhibits at the Bustani?! It offended his every sensibility. He remembered Yaliano’Wis mentioning it, and had been stunned. But to see them – it outraged him, and his wing-nets slipped in and out of his elytra-pace in agitation. This is wrong! They – they are allowing themselves to be exploited – for what? What do they or their people gain in return?

  “Leave it, for now,” Ro-Becilo’Ran said, pushing him back and away. Or trying to, for Kreceno’Tiv now outweighed him, and he only moved because Ro-Becilo’Ran was his friend.

  “Leave it for now? So when would be a good time to protest this, Becil, when it is so established that nothing will be done?” he snarled.

  “Krece, they have their own reasons for doing it,” Ro-Becilo’Ran said placatingly. “They can leave at any time. They gain something for it, right or wrong. I don’t condone it, but – well, we can’t make judgments for them.”

  “But that’s exactly what the Solidarim does, Becil, we’ve set ourselves up as wardens, and we allow this – this exploitation?! They think us deities, and they do this to amuse us, and we give them treats, like they are pets, or mfanya?!”

  Ro-Becilo’Ran sighed. “All right, Krece, make a scene, yell out your outrage, get the displays shut down. Tell all those races of the Totality that we are not what we let them think we are, collapse the whole system. And then, when one of the races that we used to administer to figures out Long-Travel and becomes marauders, we can rest assured that, you know, at least they were not exploited for our edification and delight, and kept in check by a race that had long outgrown such behavior!”

  Kreceno’Tiv glared at him. “That is not the natural conclusion, Becil, and protesting exploitation is not the path to our inevitable destruction!”

  “Well, at least wait until you have the political influence to actually make a difference!” Ro-Becilo’Ran snapped back.

  “Are you two going to bring those drinks?” Ropali Galici’Bel called, waving at them. Kreceno’Tiv followed Ro-Becilo’Ran to the dispensary, but did not help carry the refreshments, and sat fuming as the others happily partook of them.

  “Oh dear, you’ve seen the displays, haven’t you?” Vespa Karaci’Tiv said, seeing the look on his face. “Krece, I know it makes you angry, I’m angry about it, too. They get special considerations for doing it. I think it’s reprehensible, and once I’m in the Solidarim, I intend to fight it.”

  That made him feel a little better, and he gave her a thin smile. But any enjoyment he might have had in actually getting into the Bustani was spoiled.

  “I think I’ll head home,” he said, standing. None of his friends looked especially surprised, though they did look disappointed.

  “Tell me about your special lady next turn?” Ro-Becilo’Ran asked.

  Kreceno’Tiv gestured an affirmative as he strode out of the Bustani.

  View Two

  An’Siija was depressingly empty as his transport took him to the via-Way that led down to Segela Miridum. The despair was high and thin, like the last wail of a hungering babe.

  I’m worried about other-world sentient Peoples being exploited, when I can’t even save my own people? he thought with self-derision. There were still people lining the boulevards, but the despair had turned to fear, fear of the authorities who would come to round up the listless populace and take them to the second Star Whorl and an uncertain fate and future. And the City-glyph danced on his vuu with the tangled, mingled glyphs of fear and despair, and a thin, thin glyph of mounting anger. The glyph of it was sharp and many-edged in his mind, etched with jagged glass on his secondary retinas.

  I’m angry, he fumed, staring at those activity-starved faces who stared back, those who had not had the Nil’Gu’ua or the opportunity to go to Tertius. He found it interesting, in a grim way, that the despair still whispered to him, even though he knew that he was going to Tertius, and would not lead a life of purposelessness.

  I thought the despair would be less, at least for me, he thought staring out at the Mji’Hive. But his anger overlaid and overshadowed the despair. Is my anger adding to that thin glyph? He knew that it was. It was almost a comfort to know that he was a part of that glyph, that his outrage added to the miasma and malaise of An’Siija.

  If only it were a glyph that I could apply Nil’Gu’vua to, he thought, letting his eyes go from semi-compound back to primary vision. Then maybe more action than a few isolated protests would be taken. In fact, he could see the glyph of anger, and he tried to bring Nil’Gu’vua to it. The thin, malformed glyph brightened under his dark thoughts, and then faded.

  Frustrated, he let Nil’Gu’vua go and he sought for something else to think about. His mind tried to bring up Pavtala Ralili’Bax, and he hedged at first. Then he let the thoughts come.

  Where is she now? he wondered, seeing the distant stars between the double horizon. Has she found someone new? Is she – is she mated, yet? No, it’s been less than ten turns. Less than ten turns that she’s been gone. He did not want to think that he could be replaced so easily. Then he felt a stab of guilt. The lady of the Tiphi had begun to replace Pavtala Ralili’Bax – but not easily. For a moment he felt torn, then he let it go. Pavtala Ralili’Bax was gone, beyond his reach, forever. The lady of the Tiphi Genus and the Cav Famiya...

  She’s also beyond my reach. She lives on the Solidaris Orm and she wore the robes of a Counselor. I won’t get that far – Kara is going to the Solidarim, not me. I’ll be in one of the Ministries. Why would she even notice me? If I even get to visit the Orm again?

  The despair sang loudly to him, and he clenched
his jaw, but kept his elytra-pace from clacking, or his wing-nets from showing. I’ll be going to Tertius soon, he reminded himself. That will take my concentration from both of them. Yes, work is what I need, I will not become like those left in the city, or some lovelorn wastrel. I have a career to build. And I need to find out my top level of Nil’Gu’ua before I go to Tertius, and begin to train myself in exactly what those levels can do. And I will fight for those I can, for the people being herded off to the second Star Whorl, and the sapients on display at the Bustani. Love – love will have to come when it may.

  But despite these resolute thoughts, he did not open a data-Sphere link, but stared out at the spreading land-form of Segela Miridum as he passed through the via-way and made the descent to the short-travel terminus. All he could vuu was the glyph of his own anger – and a pair of rainbow-mirrored eyes that had been a breath away from meeting his.

  View Three

  “How was the Bustani?” his mother called when he entered the domicive. “Did you actually get in, this time?”

  He shoved his anger down deep. “Yes, Mother, I did,” he answered the second question, and hoped that she did not press the first. “We managed to get in.”

  “But you’re home early,” she persisted, appearing in the entrance to the salon. “And you’re angry.” Her words were a prompt.

  “I – did not like the displays as much as I did when I was younger,” he hedged.

  Vespa Kareni’Tiv tilted her head. “The sentients in the displays bother you, don’t they? They bother us, too, your father and I. That is why we have not gotten special passes to the Bustani in recent orbises.”

  But Father is on the Solidarim Council, can’t he do something?! he wanted to demand hotly. But he stayed the impulse. If his father were able to do something, he was sure that Vespar-Drelano’Sev’Tiv would be doing it. Or maybe he is doing something. Maybe there’s nothing he can do. I don’t know!

  Vespa Kareni’Tiv sighed and came to touch his shoulder.

  “Some of them requested it,” she said quietly, “as a way to barter for special favors for their people. I know you hate the deity-mythos we perpetuate among the less-advanced Nil’Gu’ua races, but for some it is the only thing they will completely respect and not contravene. We learned that lesson painfully, long ago.”

  He knew he was tense under her touch, but he said nothing. It was still wrong, all of it.

  “Just know that none of those in the displays were forced. All of them are volunteers. And we do not keep the same people for very long – there are very strict laws governing their appearance in the Bustani, laws to protect them. Look in the Spheres, you’ll see.” She let her hand drop from his shoulder and moved back toward the study. “There’s food in the prep area.”

  He found that, despite his ire, he was ravenous. So he went to the food prep area to grab the platter of food to take up to his suite.

  View Four

  He skimmed the data-Spheres, under a different alias, considered venting his rage in the interlink discussion boards. But his reappearance might stop the forward momentum of the resistance to the OSI, so he stayed silent, passively interacting with the dataSpheres. There were many who spoke out both for and against the sapient displays in the Bustani, each side fervently stating why their way of looking at the situation was the correct way.

  :Let Them Stay

  :What harm is there in having people in the displays of the Bustani? They make me laugh, with their strange and simple ways, their funny faces, their all-soft bodies! I don’t see that it denigrates them if they want to be there. How does it hurt them? It’s not like they are mfanya – they can leave and go back to their homes at any time! And watching them relieves the boredom, now that it is possible to get into the Bustani in less than half an orbis! Let them stay!

  Such ignorant bigotry made him so angry that he nearly threw his view-glyphographic into the nearest wall. But he felt better once he read the next post, which enumerated his feelings exactly.

  :How Ignorant Do You Have To Be?

  :How ignorant do you have to be not to see how wrong it is to display PEOPLE in the show-displays of the Bustani? Do any of you advocating for it understand what it means that those peoples look at us in a certain way, that they volunteer to curry favor with us? Do you enjoy the adulation so much that you forget our herstory? It is EXACTLY like being mfanya slaves! Connect to your secondary retinas, and vuu the truth-glyph of their circumstances! Or how would YOU like to be on display, beholden to a domineering people who determine the future of your world? Oh ha, wait, but we ARE. Are you one of the Solidarim numb-paces, perchance?

  He smiled fiercely at the post. Whoever had written it had captured his sentiments exactly, though the writer was playing with dangerous forces, insulting the Solidarim in that way. But it soothed his anger some, so that he was able to push it to the back of his mind and check on other developments.

  The anger and fear he had vuued in An’Siija was given voice on the Spheres, especially at the lower levels.

  :Kiss My Numb-Pace!

  :Who in the Roots gave anyone the authority to tell me to leave my home, that it is for the good of the Totality? Who in the Malkia do they think they are, forcing us to leave Gu’Anin? I’m not going anywhere, Peace-Forcers or no Peace-Forcers! They can shove those Peace-Forcers right up the World-Tree’s trunk, and kiss my numb-pace while they are about it!

  Peace-Forcers?! Kreceno’Tiv felt the chill, gritty glyph of alarm burst along all his nerves, and his eyes went fully compound for an instant. Peace-Forcers had not been seen in recent memory – surely they were not using them to force people to comply with the OSI?! But he could not find any other mention of the dreaded, ancient warrior males.

  And then he saw the post that tugged at his heart and almost made his anger boil over.

  :Tears in the Light

  :Where is the voice that spoke to us, who wiped away my tears in the dark? Where is the one who called us to action, who forced those above us to reveal their odious plan, and deshik it up as if it were for our own good, as if they had our best interests at heart? Where is our sistren voice, who spoke for me when I was silenced by fear, who questioned where I dared not, who, never having met me, cared enough for all of us to rail and rally against forces we have cowed to for too long?

  :Where is the Alighter?! Silenced, as so many others have been silenced!

  :Well, I will not be silenced! I am no longer afraid, Alighter! I shall shout in the Spheres and the real world, they will not silence me! And when I fall, a hundred thousand others will take my place, each clamoring for justice, for the return of the vanished ones! I will avenge your silencing, and my brother’s, and all the Totality will hear my voice!

  Angry and drained with unrequited emotions and the need to act, but being unable to, he shut down his interlink and flopped onto his rest-pad, glyph-sparked off the lights. There was nothing more he could do for his people in the Spheres, or on the interlinks. Only action in the real world would satisfy him now.

  View Five

  ...her eyes were soft and luminous, half-closed with half-bows, as he lifted her chin and drew her up to him...

  “Oh ha,” a cheerful voice said. “Wake, wake, muscle boy! Time for natal-turn frolic, you’re another orbis older!”

  Kreceno’Tiv started up, pulled from sleep and vaguely, disturbingly real dreams to wakefulness. Ro-Becilo’Ran’s smiling face hovered above his view-glyphographic.

  He flopped back down with a groan.

  “Not what I wanted to wake up to,” he groused, covering his eyes and tucking in his vuu’erio tennae. “Why couldn’t you have been a beautiful girl?”

  “Then we wouldn’t be best friends,” Ro-Becilo’Ran shot back. “You’d be trying to get into my elytra-pace, and I’d be doing my feminine best to stop you!”

  “Go jump off the edge of Algna Suprum, Becil,” Kreceno’Tiv growled.

  Ro-Becilo’Ran’s eyes batted, and he adopted a coy look, flutte
ring his wing-nets. “Only if you’re there to catch me, you big, strong, muscly...!”

  Kreceno’Tiv lunged at the view-glyphographic, cutting off his friend’s horrible falsetto impression of a girl’s voice. But Ro-Becilo’Ran reappeared a moment later.

  “Oh ha, you gave me access, remember?” He threw up his hands when Kreceno’Tiv started back toward the device. “All right, grump-a-lump mumph, go get some food in that depthless pit that you call a stomach, I’m going, before you pitch your view-glyphographic out the window!”

  “I’m a depthless pit?!” Kreceno’Tiv cried indignantly, “what about the time you ate that entire...!” But the image of his friend had gone away.

  Still supremely irritated, Kreceno’Tiv went through his exercise regimen, stepping up the weight resistance level, as his body had become acclimated to the current level. Then, muscles burning, he cleaned up, put a fresh deshik and kwats on, and wandered down to the food preparation area. The deshik seemed to be straining across his chest, and the kwats felt a little tight, but he ignored them both, as his stomach complained of being empty. Vespa Karaci’Tiv was there, and she looked up with a smile of greeting, but then her eyes widened.

  “Glorious natal-turn, flutter-butt... By the first Hive, you’re built like a middling World-Tree!” she exclaimed “What have you been feeding him, Mother?” she called toward the salon, “blossoms from the top of the Anin’Ma?”