Chapter Fourteen
Riliya and Ilika often played in Ilika's apartment several floors down from the Ornenkai family apartment. Several tendays before Riliya had suggested that the two of them look for a new park to make their regular meeting place. Before the move, they had been to nearly every park in Ariyalsynai, but there were a few they had never seen that they had once talked of visiting.
The central botanical gardens were now closer than they had ever been, which would allow them to stay longer than they had before. But since the move, Ilika seemed content to remain indoors, and the two had fallen into a habit of visiting each other without leaving the tower.
Riliya had begun to notice the change in his friend since their separation, beginning with the second day after they had arrived. Riliya brought a bouquet of flowers identical to the one that Ilika had picked for his mother nearly a year before. He had gone to great trouble finding them that morning, returning late in the afternoon. Ilika hardly glanced at them as he took them from Riliya's outstretched hand.
"What's wrong?" Riliya had asked.
"I don't want them." Ilika said, giving them back to Riliya with a decisive gesture. Riliya couldn’t hide his confusion; Ilika's hard expression softened. "Thank you of course, Riliya," he quickly added, "but I can't accept them. I want nothing near me that reminds me of death."
"But aren't they beautiful?" Riliya was looking at them.
"For now," Ilika said, shaking his head. "But tomorrow? The beauty fades too quickly. The container is a better gift, but I don't need it, either." Riliya put the flowers aside.
“I’ll take them back later then.”
“So, what does your father actually do?” Riliya wondered; it was getting late, and Vaelan Marankeil hadn’t appeared.
“Oh, he’s begun to work on improving the Federation starship computers and improving their memory storage and cognitive capabilities,” Ilika answered. “He’s also currently involved in a project to expand the computers' parallel mode and increase the range of interconnections between the electromagnetic synapses in the mechanized artificial intelligence units that coordinate some of the functions on unmanned probes.”
Riliya’s eyes widened at Ilika’s explanation.
“He may have found a better way to integrate them with their laser-optic and crystalloid computer components." Ilika said, as though he were also an authority on the matter. "Father created the project and presented it to the council before we moved." Ilika added. "He's the one who created the nano-implants that the medical centers use to regulate the brain functions of people with supposedly irreversible brain damage."
“Oh.”
They played a while, when the door abruptly sounded; Vaelan Marankeil was returning early from his lab in the Regional science building at Riloriyen. Ilika stiffened; he stopped, mid-sentence and his eyes became darting and nervous.
“You still sitting there, Ilika?” Vaelan directed at his son, in a sharp sardonic tone as he dropped his things in the entryway.
“Lazy, good-for-nothing...” Vaelan muttered under his breath as he came inside.
Ilika’s face hardened. Ornenkai knew his friend was not lazy, and was highly motivated. He felt angry inside at the insult.
“Oh, ho, there Riliya.” Vaelan said, approaching. “You’re looking awfully well.”
Riliya processed the tone and wasn’t sure if the comment had been intended to be friendly or secretly censorious.
“Thank you.” He said, simply.
“Maybe you can get my boy to start paying attention to his future. I’m sure your father has a plan for you. I’ll bet he understands the value of hard work.”
“Yes, sir,” Riliya said.
“Good.” Vaelan nodded. “You’ll be good competition for Ilika then. Competition never hurt a friendship. You pay close attention to your friend there, Ilika, if you ever want to amount to anything.” Vaelan paused. “Stop giving me that surly look, boy, or you can go live somewhere else.”
Ilika said nothing. Vaelan finally turned away to head into his private workroom on the other side of the apartment. He was going away to spend his evening, as he spent his morning, trying to perfect his grand project.
“Marankeil, sir—” Riliya tried to defend his friend, but Ilika laid a gentle hand on his arm, quieting him until Vaelan Marankeil turned away.
“I know what you want to say, Riliya, but don’t bother,” Ilika’s voice was small, sincere, and his eyes were bright and soft with feeling. “You can’t do anything for him; ambition has already eaten his soul.”
One morning several tendays later, Ilika had escaped his apartment shortly after his father left for the laboratory. His father had set him several questions to answer, but he had quickly finished them and hurried down to find Riliya. The two of them had spent the day playing games, pretending to be comet riders that had just crashed on the planet and had to build a new civilization.
"Well, Ilika, it's nice to see that you haven't been confined to your apartment," Iera said.
"Riliya, we’re going to have to meet late tomorrow if we want to see each other." Ilika whispered as Iera headed to the meal distribution area and set in a program for the evening meal in the food dispenser unit. Meanwhile, Aia watched them, moon-eyed.
"Why?" Riliya asked.
"Father’s taking me tomorrow to see the laboratory. It's time I started to learn about how the computers and mechanized units function, not just how to operate them, he says—”
“But you already work on all that.”
“He doesn’t know that.” Ilika shrugged. “It's been nearly a year since I went with him to the laboratories, and since formal training is coming up, he says it's time he picks up his lessons again with me."
Ilika stayed with them for dinner; Ornenkai never appeared, having been delayed by data recording at his center.
"Mother, have you ever heard of the ruins at Lake Firien?" Riliya asked.
"I've seen some of the analyses on the scraps and the skeletal remains of an ancient ship they found there.” Iera replied.
“You have?” Riliya repeated.
Iera nodded. “Some people think they aren't real but some elaborate hoax, but I don't think so. Anyway, why do you ask?"
"We've been playing comet riders today." Riliya answered.
"Oh," a light smile played around the corners of her mouth. "Well, I don't know about the legends, but a ship would have to be as large as the skeleton at Lake Firien if it were going to bring an entire civilization to our world. The only problem with that theory is that none of the ship itself has survived. If it were destroyed on impact, we would have more fragments of the exterior hull than have been discovered—and several million tons of scrap from the interior structure.”
“Maybe someone stripped it for parts,” Ilika suggested.
"Well, all I know is that in the event that the entire ship was blown apart, there shouldn't have been such perfect preservation of the interior skeleton.” Iera said. “Most of the chemical analysts think the skeleton was built by somebody who wanted everyone to believe the ancient legends."
"Who would want to do that?" Ilika asked.
"The council thinks one of the strange people who live at Lake Firien could have built the ruins to establish themselves as keepers of the ancients' knowledge. The representative from Firien is always objecting to the council's proposals. The council thinks they are trying to gain favor with the people and increase the power of the Firien province."
"But don't a lot of people already believe in the comet rider legend?"
"Yes, most people do." Iera nodded. "But don’t tell your father I said that. Riliya. Even some of our evolutionary and geological scientists agree that life should not have evolved as quickly on Seynorynael as it seems to have. Our star Valeria is too young. But most of them think that the story that the two waves of
comet riders, those who arrived early in civilization and their brothers that followed later, are evidence that our people must have come in many small ships, perhaps escape vessels fleeing the natural disaster of our original home world.”
“I wonder what made them leave.” Ilika said.
"I don’t know.” Iera said. “In truth I think vanity keeps a lot of people from believing that we haven’t actually advanced so quickly on our own merit. People would rather not believe that they have fallen from the greatness of some ancient ancestors, beings who were capable of traveling across space in one great ship."
"Do you think that the ruins at Firien could be the Havens of legend?" Ilika asked.
"I don't know, Ilika.” Iera laughed. “I think the Havens are only a myth people have created. But if they did exist, the ruins at Firien may hold some answers we have yet to find. But if a person really wanted to know more about the Havens, they would do better starting in the lore records in the Firien province. Some of our technicians have been there, but a lot of the ancient records haven't been translated. Those that have been translated have already contributed a lot to our understanding of the ancient comet riders. I think that is the reason a lot of scientists believe in the legends, even if they don't agree about the ruins at Lake Firien."
"How far away is Lake Firien?" Ilika asked.
"It's too far a journey for young boys to make in one day." Iera answered. "Firien lies to the northwest, beyond the weather-safe ring. If you go to the archives at the cultural center, you can find a map and all of the translated records of the comet riders."
"Let's go the day after tomorrow," Riliya suggested when Iera got up to get something to drink, drawing a distracted Ilika from his thoughts.
"Of course," Ilika said. “Iera, why does Ornenkai hate it when we talk about the comet riders?”
Iera smiled at the dark-headed boy with his wreath of feathered hair falling into his eyes; she resisted the urge to mother him and sweep his hair back.
“You’ll understand someday if you ever have children.” She said, in that peculiar mysterious manner of grown-ups who enjoyed their secrets.
"I'm never going to have children.” Riliya laughed. “Why would anyone want to have to take care of somebody else?"
Iera shrugged. “You know, your brother is going to have a child with his new wife.” She said.
Riliya’s mouth dropped open.
“Elkan?”
“He’ll be visiting in a few tendays.” She said, excited, but she said nothing about her own fears for her son. The younger Elkan Ornenkai had never realized his father’s dreams for him, and she knew there was going to be a lot of tension between them. At the same time, she was worried about Riliya.
She knew Elkan had put all his hopes on his second child, and she was afraid Riliya would one day figure that out.
"Why do you let that Marankeil boy influence you, Riliya?" Elkan Ornenkai sighed. "He’s a competitive, domineering little brat, and you’ve got better things to do with your time than to associate with him. Besides, I thought you would enjoy coming in with your mother and I to the laboratories for a change."
"He isn’t.” Riliya said quietly, aware that defiance was dangerous, but he didn’t care.
“You don’t know as much about people as I do.”
“But father, I told Ilika I'd meet him tomorrow in the archives building. We've been working on learning the ancient language together."
"What useless knowledge," Ornenkai said, drawing a look of reproach from his wife.
"Look son, isn't it about time that you begin to apply yourself to some serious studies? Now that we are living in the towers, you have the opportunity to go to the Central Scientific Academy for your education. They won't accept you without some rudimentary training, but you waste all of your time with that friend of yours. If you spent half of the energy you do memorizing lore to embellish your fantasies, you'd have mastered more by now."
Riliya bit his lip and turned away. His father didn't understand. He couldn’t abandon Ilika now. They were best friends. Riliya knew that Ilika threatened adults’ comfortable superiority because he wasn't willing to give in to anyone or anything. Though older than Riliya, Ilika was the same size, and Elkan Ornenkai had made the mistake of underestimating the boy's character. But while Elkan Ornenkai found the boy intractable and restive, the younger Ornenkai admired Ilika's intellect and strength of will.
Riliya had long since learned the futility of confrontations with his father. He was never allowed to win, even with a rational argument, but the hope that a reasonable argument might one day work kept him thinking them up. Nevertheless, the best alternative to arguing for the present was to avoid defeat and save his dignity. Riliya returned to his sleep chamber and began to pack his satchel for his trip to the archives building. His father would have to drag him out of the apartment if he expected his son to join him! Riliya decided.
In the other room, Iera Ornenkai took up the battle for her son, as though she recognized many of the same characteristics in her husband and son that the other two refused to see and wanted to make peace between them. Though Elkan often appeared to be inflexible, she knew there were chinks in his armor.
"Elkan, you know how important ancient language and lore have become to Riliya.”
“Yes, but so what?”
“You should listen to his ideas—he's as thorough in his research as you are when he talks about climate and science shaping our history."
"Maybe... “ he sighed. “I know what I should do, but that isn’t what happens. I don't mean to be so hard on him, but I know how difficult it is to succeed in Ariyalsynai, especially if I allow him to neglect his proper training. He’s just a boy. How can he know what’s good for him? And don't you see his potential when he talks about his hypotheses? I know he’s afraid to share them with me, but I‘ve heard him talking about it. Riliya’s an intelligent boy. He needs to be challenged.
"He may not have genius for mechanics,” Ornenkai amended himself, “but he can foresee problems. He’s so analytical. He just doesn't realize that his gift would be best employed in a scientific field of study. Lore is very interesting to a young boy, but it lacks creativity. History is static.”
“It’s good for the imagination.”
“Yes, but it doesn’t change, Iera, and it can’t provide the same kind of satisfaction to a curious mind as scientific endeavors."
"Elkan, Riliya’s still a child.” Iera sighed. “What harm can it be to let him dream a while longer of his comet riders? The real world you love will have him too soon, and he’ll be consigned to the fate you have chosen for him because you’d have him succeed before he’s happy."
"Iera—"
"Elkan, have you forgotten why we left for the outer sectors?"
"That was different." Elkan Ornenkai shrugged. "Your father wanted us to take up his diplomatic position, for you to succeed him on the Council—"
"Then why does Riliya have to choose our profession?"
"I'm not forcing him to, Iera, but I tell you, I see something in him. He’s got a future ahead of him. His friendship with that Marankeil boy has got him dreaming about legends, but even when he’s thinking up those ridiculous stories, he considers the effects of climate and technology rather than let his imagination run wild. He doesn't know that he could be a great scientist, if he applied his talents to it—"
"Because you value scientific study more than anything, but you can’t see that it takes the same aptitude to decipher lore and learn the language of the ancients—"
"I'd be willing to allow him a career in evolutionary science, Iera. Many evolutionists have been involved in the investigation at Lake Firien, as well as chemical analysts."
"And I suppose Riliya's stargazing might come in useful if he chooses to become a astrochemist or astrophysicist, even if he had to leave us and go to t
he observatory on Nanshe?"
"Well—yes." Ornenkai admitted. "But I would of course leave those choices up to Riliya.”
“Would you?”
“I only want the best for him. We’ve both seen life in the outer sectors.”
“So?”
“Is it wrong to want more for Riliya? I merely want to give him the opportunity to make a choice. If after he’s trained at the science academy, really put an effort into it, and he still prefers this lore nonsense to a respectable field—then... then I won’t stop him from doing what he wants."
"I have your promise, Elkan?”
“Yes.”
"All right." She sighed. "I won’t object. But if you’re going to send him away to your boyhood training center, at least wait until the cold season is over."
"Listen, Riliya,” said Ilika. “It says here that the second wave of comet riders fell by a sea far to the west."
"Lake Firien?" Riliya looked across at Ilika from his view-search screen.
"There isn't anything about it." Ilika shrugged.
"Look what I've found, Ilika." Riliya said after a moment. "Here are some pieces of writing that were found in Ariyalsynai, written in the comet rider's strange language. The records say they may have been diaries of some kind, just the simple entries of ordinary citizens, or correspondences..."
Ilika headed over to read over Riliya's shoulder. The two of them had spent several tendays in the archives building, reading legends and looking through the few records that dated back ten thousand years. The building was nearly empty, but the two boys could not access the information at home without a record of their search being imprinted on their family computer grid.
"It says 'great leader... emerged' then there are a lot of words in another syllabary that aren't translated. It goes on scattered with a few more words that were identified. 'the destiny of our people' is repeated again—it looks like our word for destiny is the same as theirs. 'led by the one... new realm...' That's it. Sorry I called you. I guess it isn't very important. None of it makes sense—there's too much missing information."
Riliya looked up at Ilika, but the older boy had a far-off expression on his face.
"My mother said we inherited our beliefs of destiny from the comet riders," Ilika finally said.
"History is destiny?" Riliya laughed, repeating the first line of a well-known legend. "What do you suppose that means, Ilika?" Riliya asked. The two often posed the question to each other as part of a ritual, and usually the same answers were given, stock phrases they had learned in early childhood about the chain of being.
"Of course," Ilika said suddenly, as though answering a question he had posed to himself.
"If only someone could translate the missing comet riders' alphabets," Riliya sighed. "The ones the computer codes couldn't break."
"We have to find more records somewhere—so that we can find the repeating patterns and try to do it ourselves." Ilika said and stood. Riliya looked up at the chronometer and silently cursed. Elkan Ornenkai would be home soon and wondering where his son had gone.
Riliya looked at his friend. He wondered if Ilika cared as much about the lore as he did.
"Ilika, let's look for the Havens." He said, but almost lost his nerve when his friend turned a glassy-eyed stare upon him. He couldn't tell if Ilika were for or against the idea.
"Well of course we will, Riliya. We'll find the Havens. Then the secrets of our ancestors will be—ours." Ilika hopped from the archives dais to the ground level, where the crystalloid computer registered Ilika's presence with a reedy "good-bye".
“Ilika, are you going to remember me when we have to separate for training?”
Ilika stopped and glared at him as though this were the most foolish question in all the world.
“Of course!” He said. “I’ll never forget you, Rilien Ornenkai.”
“My little sister has a crush on you,” Riliya said, thinking how Aia’s eyes followed Ilika whenever he came to eat dinner with them.
“Does she?” Ilika only laughed.
“So, so why is it you don’t have other friends?”
“I suppose I refuse to like people who dislike me for my temperament and then refuse to alter their opinions of me, even after I try to do everything I can think of to please them. You, Ornenkai, you weren’t like everyone else.”
“I yelled at you when I first saw you.”
“Maybe. But you were there when I most needed a friend. A person doesn’t forget that, Riliya.”
“Ilika, you should try to make other friends. Forget that bully Hilemi. And forget what your father says when you go away.”
“I wish I could, Riliya, but I can’t.” Ilika said, with a dark, hunted look in his eyes. “I remember everything they have done to me in detail, and I can’t forget it. I just can’t.”
Before Riliya returned to his apartment that evening, Ilika persuaded him to stop by his apartment to show him something secret he had been working on since Vaelan Marankeil had taken his son to the science building.
"It's a little project I've been developing on my own," Ilika said, gesturing towards a blank viewscreen hooked into a wall computer by a large mass of wires. "First you have to put that neural helmet on. Then think of a memory—picture somewhere you've been." Riliya picked up the neural helmet and imagined his favorite spot in Gelyfaeon Park. Then he turned and looked at the viewscreen. The image appeared in the holo-field.
"That's nothing." Riliya said.
"Nothing?" Ilika said angrily, his deep blue eyes glowering at Riliya as he snatched the helmet away.
"They can project images from human memory at the holo-center—" Riliya answered, then suddenly stopped. The image in the holo-field had changed without being given a stimulus. The field was suddenly filled with blue and violet flowers. "Ilika, how did that happen?" Riliya asked tentatively, and Ilika smiled, forgetting his anger when he recognized Riliya's appropriate show of awe.
"The computer took your memories and built on them on its own. Every time someone adds to its memory bank, he leaves some of his own thoughts behind. But the computer doesn't just remember your memories. It can take on your dreams up until the present point in your memory bank, and then it will act on its own, as a separate entity. If you leave it alone, it will go back to the picture it likes of the sea coast. Only now it may also like to imagine some trees or those flying creatures you like..."
"How did you do that?" Riliya asked, incredulous.
"Father leaves me alone in the labs every morning. For a while, I just looked around, but about a year ago I started to pay attention. But I've been working on all kinds of computers as long as I can remember..."
"I usually hate computers, but I have to say that it's nice to see that a machine can learn what it likes."
"Why do you hate computers?" Ilika asked.
"Well not just computers—I hate machinery. It just sits there, unable to think on its own, so it’s boring to me, unless I can use it to learn or play games. But even the games we can play with it are kind of boring after a while to me. And most of all, sitting staring at a computer isn’t anything to a mountain view when you’ve scaled a range on your own—"
"You wouldn't understand, Riliya." Ilika shook his head and turned away. Machinery never disappears. Machines don’t wither and die like the flowers you cherish.