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1799 Planetfall Page 5
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Page 5
Tiana picked the book up and opened it. Marcos moved beside her to point out the definitions and the idea of alphabetical order. She smiled. It was hardly a new concept, but it would give her the ability to cross-reference more to fill in her vocabulary. He read some early definitions, trailing his finger across the letters; she put her finger on an unfamiliar word and asked for the meaning. When he finished explaining, she nodded and read aloud where he had left off. She kept going, stopping at unfamiliar words. He got the idea and gave the common meanings of the ones she didn't know as she went. Soon she was picking up the meanings, but continued to scan even when they weren’t clear, so she could cross-reference later.
A bell rang.
“I'll come back in an hour. The ship’s bell rings every half hour. Oh yes... a full day is twenty-four hours, so you understand our time system.”
“Thank you, Marcos,” she smiled at him. “I look forward to it.”
He bowed and hurried out.
She carried the first volume of the Diccionario to the hammocks. Two types of parasite inhabited the mattresses and she caught one of each, popping them in her mouth to analyze them then spat them out the portal. A simple synthetic compound would repel them. She mixed the compound and rubbed it on the mattresses. Though they wouldn't be inclined to bite her, she didn't want to share a cabin with parasites. She rolled herself into the top bunk.
She paged through the volume then continued with the second. When finished, she stretched for a moment and shelved the volumes. The Nueva gramática de la lengua Española was next to the Diccionario. Since she now knew what that meant, she read it and learned more about how words were to be put together and conjugated.
The final pages of the Gramática were surrendering to her attack when the sound of Marcos coming down the hall reached her. She opened the door catching him briefly frozen, knuckles poised to knock.
She mimicked the invitational bow he had given her earlier and stepped aside. He made sounds that reminded her of the sea lions on the island.
“Oh!” she said. “Laugh: to express happiness with certain movements of the face and characteristic sounds. I wondered what that noise was. Thank you for the demonstration.” She imitated his sounds. “How was that?”
“I suppose you should find a lady to imitate rather than me,” Marcos said, smiling. “Women's voices are more musical and higher-pitched in tone, probably much easier to listen to than my own.”
“I liked yours fine,” Tiana said.
Marcos stepped inside. “So You’ve gotten at least up to ‘R’. You've been moving fast.”
“I haven’t finished digesting all of it yet, but I have it in my head to refer to. What do you suggest I read next?”
“You remember everything, don't you?”
“Yes.”
“Can you forget things?”
“No, but I can bury it deep if I decide it isn't important.”
Marcos nodded, rubbing his chin. “The Gramática would–”
“Just finished it.”
“The world has never seen a teacher such as I. Soon I will have nothing to do,” Marcos said. “I confess; I astonish myself.”
Tiana tried laughing again, raising the pitch and setting it to one of her favorite musical themes.
Marcos gaped. After a moment he said, “Though that experiment was truly beautiful, even entrancing, it would be unwise to repeat in front of anyone else.”
“Your words shall be my guide,” Tiana said. “Is laughing always tied to happiness or amusement?”
“There is always some humor involved, but laughs are not always happy.” He scratched his chin. “There are many kinds, Tiana, even laughter that can come when hope is lost, a sound that would drive you mad if you listened long.”
Tiana considered for a moment. “And crying? What of that?”
“¡Dios Tiana! You will know it when you hear it. No one living here avoids that.”
He walked to the shelf, pulled out two more volumes and placed them on the table. “This is your next assignment.”
“Good,” she said. “What is it?”
“My most treasured literary possession. El ingenioso hidalgo Don Quixote de la Mancha by Miguel de Cervantes. Written two hundred years ago, it is perhaps the greatest literary achievement of our world. Maybe it will answer some of the questions you have about laughter… and tears.”
Tiana picked up the first volume.
“It will be dark when my watch is over,” said Marcos. “I will tell Abarca to bring candles at dusk for you to continue. If you wish to sleep, we will talk when you wake.”
“Thank you, Marcos.”
“It is the least I could do for someone visiting from so far. I hope your stay here is a happy one. It is sure to be difficult.”
Tiana nodded. She was certain he was right.
He reached for the door then looked back. “I had an idea. I am guessing you will need to give the captain something when it is time to wake him, correct?”
“Yes, I'll need to put something in his mouth.”
“Is it possible to set the dose to wake him later? Half a day, perhaps?”
She nodded.
“Good, that will help. I think it best we leave the captain in Puerto Soledad with the governor’s surgeon. The world will then consider him a miracle doctor and he will become even more insufferable, but that cannot be helped.” He grinned and ducked through the door.
Tiana carried both volumes to the hammock. The page turning would be finished in an hour, but it would take longer to read; she could tell by the first pages.
The candlelight flickered across the room as dusk turned to dark. She had finished turning the pages of Don Quixote long before Abarca had come with the candles. Before that, she had watched the sea behind la Niña Bonita as she worked her way through the book. Now she watched the flicker of the flame as she turned the final pages in her head.
Earlier she had practiced smiling and laughing to mirror the amusement the book sparked in her. She now found them resonating within her mind. It amazed her to learn something new in her emotional realm after so long, but during the final chapters, a strange quietness settled on her.
Though she might have read one or two works equal to Don Quixote, she couldn't say any surpassed it. Humans might live short lives with limited mental tools and science, but they could think deeply. And some, like Miguel de Cervantes, were brave enough to struggle with the hardest questions of life.
The ship’s bell rang eight times.
The truth was that everyone must decide the most important questions by faith. Questions like: can I trust the ones I love and is there a deity working towards justice and redemption?
Quixote believed in honor, chivalry and justice, when some elements of his creed proved illusions; he lost faith and died of the sorrow. Cervantes never ruled that Quixote was wrong. Though he might have been arguing that it is better to believe some ideas and hold onto them, even if we do not know.
She wondered what sort of laughter would be appropriate to the way she felt now.
She closed her eyes while the sea gently rocked the hammock and the waves hissed against the hull as they beat upwind to their destination.
After a time, she felt la Niña Bonita come about. A little later, she heard Marcos outside the door, taking off his oilcloth coat and hanging it on the hook next to the door. He tapped on the door and, after a moment, entered quietly.
Tiana stayed where she was—relaxed and comfortable—slitting one eye open beneath her eyelashes. Marcos was staring with fascination at her feet and springheels.
Chapter 4 (Port)
“Señor, si usted muestra el suyo a mi entonces yo podría mostrar la mia de usted,” she said softly.
Marcos grinned. “That is almost exactly what the neighbor’s daughter said when I was nine years old. Have you mastered the conditional case already?”
“Yes. The neighbor’s daughter you say? Was the exchange of information successful?”
>
“No, her mother called her home before she could uphold her end of the agreement. I’m afraid that my curiosity remained unsatisfied for some time.”
“Shall we satisfy our mutual curiosity then?”
“Agreed.” Marcos turned back to the door and locked it with the bolt. When he turned back around, Tiana had already finished undoing the laces of the dress and was pulling it off. She hung it across her hammock and turned back to note that Marcos was staring at her tail. He looked up when she turned.
“I never had the chance to look when we were on the island,” he said. “It would have appeared unchivalrous to the men.”
“Are you not a true cavalier?”
“The scientist in me struggles with it, I fear.”
“Well, just in case your mother calls you away soon. Perhaps it would be more efficient if you disrobed as well and we proceed together.”
Marcos nodded and unbuttoned his coat. “Of course. I apologize. My curiosity distracts me. Biology is a special interest for me.”
Tiana watched as Marcos removed his coat, a vest, a shirt then a long-sleeved wool undershirt. Beneath that was another undershirt of silk.
“Do humans consider the weather too cold?”
“The opinion would no doubt differ between a Greenlander and an Arab. I suppose it all depends on what you are accustomed to. Since I am from Southern Spain, which is hot and sunny, I would agree with the Arab. Also, we are close to the South Pole, so it is colder here, but it is spring, so much warmer than it was ninety days ago.”
“You are wearing a lot of clothes.”
Marcos laughed. He leaned against the table to steady himself and removed his boots, woolen socks and breeches then long woolen underwear and, after a moment of hesitation, silk hose reaching to his ankles. His penis was half-erect. The musk of testosterone filled her nostrils.
“You can be aroused without a female in estrus nearby?”
Marcos nodded. “Yes, our females do not have a strong estrus cycle, and men can be aroused any time. I confess I find it arousing to be unclothed with you, perhaps because you are female and I do not consider you an animal. Though you are not of my species, the differences are not great and, in truth, I find them alluring.”
“Marcos, you understand that you can tell no one about me and what you learn. Do you not?”
“Yes, I understand. I doubt anyone would believe me anyhow.”
“Good.” She stepped up to him and held out her hands, one palm up and the other palm down. He took her hands in his, mirroring the positioning, and peered at the back of her hand while she examined his.
“I am about to extend sensory filaments from under my fingernails to help me examine your skin. Don’t be alarmed,” Tiana said.
Marcos watched entranced as the hair-like filaments came out and brushed against his flesh. “Fascinating! They are like whiskers on a cat. What are they doing? It feels so odd.”
“You taste with your tongue, as do I. My 'whiskers' work that way, but they tell me things such as chemical makeup and cell structure. So, I can detect that this small area on the back of your hand here is not part of your body. Is this what your dictionary calls a ‘verruga’?”
“Yes, it is,” Marcos said
“It is a growth on your skin caused by a tiny organism.”
“A tiny organism, you say? That would confirm the germ theory of Fracastoro and the claims made by Leeuwenhoek. How exciting!”
“Is it so exciting that you would not want me to remove it? I will cause no damage to you.”
“And I can watch you do it? Certainly.”
Tiana sent her filaments into the growth, severing it from where it anchored to him. Human skin was not that different from that of other humanoids she was familiar with. She left behind a healing enzyme to rebuild the tissue scarred by the growth.
When it fell off, Marcos laughed. “It did not even hurt. ¡Tan cirugía!”
Tiana continued her exploration, moving around him to her left while running her filaments up his arm, down his side and then sweeping up and down his body. His electrodermal response increased as she went, especially when she examined the cleft of his buttocks. So, when she came around to his front again, she noted that his penis, which had relaxed when they discussed ‘whiskers’ and ‘surgery’, was now erect.
She continued sweeping up his leg and arm to his scalp, working her way through his scalp and down his face and chest. When she reached his nipples, the electrodermal response peaked even higher, and he sighed.
“Oh! That feels amazing,” he breathed.
She continued down to his naval. She paused. His penis glistened at the tip with a clear drop of seminal fluid. She looked into his face for permission. When he nodded, she touched the fluid with her filaments.
Acta Vila! There were strong nutrients here. She turned back to meet his eyes again. “Can I taste you with my mouth too? I promise not to bite.”
His eyes widened, but he nodded with a quick jerk.
She lowered herself to her knees, sliding her hands down to his hips. The heady odor of testosterone and seminal fluid flooded into her nose. She opened her lips and slipped his glans between them. The shock as the fluid crashed into her nutrient sensors was like a hot spark in her mouth. More fluid slid from his penis, and she swirled it around her mouth. Marcos gasped and his pelvis tilted, increasing the penetration as she kept suction on him.
“¡Sigue!” he gasped.
She pulled his hips toward her, sliding him in until her nose pressed into the soft skin above his pubic bone. Her tongue slid down the underside of his shaft. The flavor of his skin mixed with the trickle of seminal fluid combined in a heady cocktail.
He swayed and almost fell, as she stroked him with her mouth and throat, so she wrapped her left arm around his waist to steady him while sliding her right hand up to cup his testicles. Her filaments worked their way through the skin of his scrotum to analyze what was happening inside. They brushed a gland at the internal base of his penis, and the nerves in the area lit up, firing off rapid contractions in the surrounding muscles and the gland itself.
Marcos arched back into her supporting arm, and seminal fluid shot down her throat. His hips rocked, pulling his penis out of her throat, and semen filled her mouth, burning as the receiving cells on her tongue subsumed the nutrients. She sucked hard, moving him in and out, and the viscous fire poured into her mouth.
He swayed, and she kept gentle suction on him until the contractions stopped and she had worked out the last drop. She let him fall from her lips and slid her body up along his. When her face and his were level, she said, “Marcos, you are the best tasting person I have ever met.”
“¡Dios! Tiana, what was that? What happened? Aside from the obvious, I mean.”
“To survive on this world, I need to know where my body can fit into its bio-systems. You are an omnivore as I am. My people made a philosophical choice long ago, however, not to take life to feed, except in certain battle emergencies. Yet we could not survive on plants alone. We needed to have sustenance provided by partnering species. We live in harmonious systems with them providing benefits like healthcare, friendship, alliances and protection. I needed to discover if it would be possible to form such a relationship with humans.”
“This is not sexual for you then?”
“No, not for me, but I understand the confusion,” she said.
Marcos looked at her, his forehead wrinkled.
Processing the information.
“And what did you find?” he asked.
Tiana smiled. “I don't know about all humans, but as an individual, you are highly compatible for me. There is only one other nutrient that I need on this planet not found in your body, but I already found a source for that and collected enough to last for a good many years.”
She paused. “This level of compatibility is unusual, unheard of to be precise. It creates possibilities. Normally I would need to have several partners of different species to re
main healthy, but a partnership with someone like you would enable both of us to thrive physically. I suspect beyond anything either of us has ever experienced before.”
“Is this other source of nutrition in that bag?”
“Yes, among a few other things.”
“I can hazard a guess to what it is. In the confines of the cabin, the odor is unmistakable—ámbar gris. How much is here?”
“Can you give me something of known weight?”
“I can, but I find myself loath to leave the warmth of your embrace, partly because I would be freezing otherwise.” He laughed.
Tiana noted the variation in the tone and cataloged it under laughs—mischievous or ironical. She reached behind her, pulled a wool blanket from the top hammock and swept it around his shoulders. Marcos sighed.
“That sound signifies… resignation?”
Marcos laughed again. “It does,” he said.
“I expect I will be making it frequently during our association.” She smiled at him.
“Oh! You have a wicked wit. I will need to protect my heart around you.”
“Heart: definition three—soul, spirit.”
“Exactly,” Marcos said. He went to the sea chest and opened it, holding his blanket closed. He pulled out a pouch handed it to her. “There are sixty-eight lead pistol balls in this pouch. The pouch weighs two pounds.”
Tiana took the pouch from him. Hefted it and handed it back. “I collected one hundred and sixty-seven pounds of the substance you call ámbar gris while on the island.”
“¡Dios! How did you find so much?”
Tiana tapped her nose. “The fragrance. The substance drifts to shore there and has accumulated for a long time.”
“How much do you need to survive?”
“One pound should last about twenty years, taking into account battle conditions where I might be wounded and need more. Is it found in other places as well?”
Marcos scratched his chin. “It is found in many places, but it is rare and incredibly valuable. Though, from your success in locating it, I think it might not be so much rare as difficult for us humans to find. If there is more than you need, you are wealthy… very wealthy.” He shivered then covered his mouth as he yawned.