Volanter, it seemed, disliked heavy losses more than anything. It was why they tried called an end to the fighting and requested negotiations.
Aria and Gavain stood shoulder to shoulder. They waited in the Ischyros’ gathering room, but Aria hardly recognized it.
A small, potted Dipinta tree took the central space. Its thin trunk remained short, and its branches spread at shoulder height, more like a tall bush than a tree. Other pots had been set around the space to form a makeshift garden. Ferns and flowers gave off a subtle white glow, except for the Dipinta. It shone.
A table and chairs curved loosely around the Dipinta, and the tree almost looked like a guest at the table.
Alban cleared his throat. He stood in the doorway and puffed blue and red into their new garden. “These are our guests. Gladiolus of the Rhizo.” Alban stood stiff, and his aura phased more red. “And, Genista of the Illud. She’s a child of the Rhizo, child of the Volanter if you will.”
Aria recognized Gladiolus. He was the Volanter man that chased Pan around every battlefield. He showed an aura of blue and green. He was a thoughtful man, with an open mind, but his shades showed a lack of humor.
Genista was new, and she was not Volanter. Aria squinted to see through Genista’s aura of pale green. Genista’s red hair mixed in with head tentacles, striped in dark red and a washed out pink. The rest of Genista trended grey, giving her a look similar to that of a Scaldin. Her eyes rested a bit further apart than the average Scaldin. She had a little nose and a small mouth. She had the slightly longer fingers of the Volanter. Otherwise, she possessed a humanoid figure and no lower tentacles, just legs.
Aria focused on Genista’s aura again. Pale green gave the impression of gentleness. That was all. Aria watched for something else.
“Welcome.” Gavain’s aura pulled close to his body. The sound of trepidation also lay in his voice. “I’m surprised to meet someone who is not fully Volanter.”
Genista smiled. “We’ve lived with the Volanter in peace for two hundred years. We thought it might help you to see how we’ve been doing.” The girl clasped her hands in front of her. Everything she did – the way her aura glowed, the way she moved, and the way she spoke – gave a sense of docile complacency.
Or, that might just be Aria’s interpretation. She’d long since proven her fallibility.
Gavain drew a deep breath. “We’ll certainly listen to what you have to say, but our people have done an extended living arrangement with Volanter as well. We have our own experiences.” Gavain touched his chest. “I’m Gavain Alpian, and this is Aria Alpian. She’s my spouse.”
Alban slid to the side of the doorway. He remained stiff and glanced at their guests askance.
“Let’s sit down.” Gavain gestured to the chairs and table. He turned to take his own seat. Then, he stopped and studied Gladiolus. His aura reached, with great reluctance. “Uh, will this arrangement work for you? The chairs – I mean.”
Gladiolus nodded once. “It’ll be fine. Volanter favor the floor and cushions, but I can adapt.” His tentacles flexed and pushed him forward in loops. He slithered to the table.
Aria couldn’t help but watch the looping mess of limbs. She frowned and thought of all the Scaldin that loved Volanter – literally.
A mere five hundred years in Scaldigir’s past, people clamored to secure a Volanter mate. Perhaps, to fulfill their secret fantasies. Before Aria became blind to the page and screen, she remembered an art history lesson. In the era just before and during the Volanter’s arrival, tentacles featured positively and prominently in both painting and sculpture.
Times changed. Aria could never tolerate living in such an arrangement, where her husband seemed to travel the house on a pile of snakes.
Gavain nudged her shoulder. His aura invaded hers in threads of pale pink. She looked up, and Gavain wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He guided her to her seat.
Aria sat and scooted into the table. Again, she studied their guests.
The Volanter tended not to clothe themselves completely, a remnant of culture that persisted on Scaldigir. Both groups were fond of thin, lacey fabrics, slits to the thigh and low-cut tops. Some Scaldin were worse than others, with Pan being guilty for sure. Aria saw the same lack of clothing on Genista. In fact, Genista’s aura could almost obscure her whole outfit, giving Genista the look of a woman shrouded in nothing but clouds. She wore just as little, maybe less than a full-blooded Volanter.
Aria folded her hands. She looked at the table and gave her eyes a break. “Aren’t you a warrior?” She didn’t look up, but she titled her head in Gladiolus’ direction. She could see his blue-green aura, where it pooled on the table.
“Yes. I fought in the battles over Iruedim, but I’m less of a warrior and more of a hunter. My specific role is to find powerful opponents and counter them. It means I contribute less to the overall death and destruction.”
He meant he was too busy chasing Pan. Aria saw it in threads of pink. Her nausea rose.
“And, to be fair, I never targeted Scaldin vessels. Just Iruedian. We’re not here to negotiate with Iruedians. Only the Scaldin.”
Gavain sat a little straighter. “At the moment, we have a pact of friendship with the Iruedians.”
“We’ll have to do something about that,” Gladiolus said. “Because what we offer is not open to them.”
“Alright, let’s get started. What exactly do you offer?” Gavain sat closer to their guests than Aria. He leaned closer still. His aura led and showed anxious yellow mixed with his purple confidence.
Aria watched Genista, Gladiolus, and their auras close.
Gladious sat tall. “We’ll forget this whole thing ever happened. Your involvement with the short war over Iruedim and any ships your arcanes might have destroyed. All of that will just be erased.” Gladiolus swept his hand through the air, demonstrating the promise. “You agree to reopen trade with us. We’ll start slow, and no Volanter need set foot on Scaldigir, not till later.”
Gavain drew a long breath. “If that’s the case, I don’t see why we can’t keep up a relationship with Iruedim. If they don’t want to deal with you and you them, there’s no reason why you would see each other.”
Gladiolus shook his head. His aura phased into a cold, rich blue. “We are not dealing with the Iruedians. They made their viewpoint very clear. We just want the chance to show you why you shouldn’t have dealings with them either.”
Aria glanced at the door. A couple arcanes she didn’t know waited there, as did a clump of navy personnel. Aria didn’t expect to find Alban among the group, but he remained, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His aura showed none of his emotions, just his deep blue thought, a tinge of red, and some threads of gold.
Aria checked Gavain’s aura again and saw his yellow loose the last of its friendly shade. It moved to guarded and anxious. “Why don’t we start there. You tell us why we shouldn’t deal with the Iruedians.”
Gladiolus’ aura ran with ripples of purple pride. “Gladly. The Iruedians will become parasites.”
Aria watched Gavain in profile.
His eyebrows raised, and his aura receded. “Parasites? How did you determine that?”
“They have a single planet at their disposal and a small solar system, poor in resources. They will take from you – materials for ships, possibly food as they grow their populations. They’re cut off from other systems, all except Scaldigir. They will grow to rely on you as their only ally, and they know this.” Gladiolus’ aura sent jagged tentacles out to Gavain.
The tentacles crept up onto Gavain’s arms and even stretched for Aria.
She kept her expression guarded but sat back. She didn’t want to touch any part of Gladiolus, if possible.
Gladiolus continued, “They will court you with magic and friendship. Because without you they are doomed.”
Gavain’s hands rested on the table, but he held up a single finger. “Wait a minute. They are not doomed. They can shift the exit of their wormhole and travel anywhere, faster than we can reach new systems.”
“Yes, but they can’t guarantee that they’ll find the resources they need. They might even find trouble. They will continue to find trouble. If you remain their friend, they will drag you along with them. They cannot sustain a space navy without a stable ally from the outside. That’s you – the Scaldin.” Gladiolus’s small eyes narrowed, and his small mouth twisted up in a tight smile. “Can you spare the resources to supply them? Can you risk everything along with them, every time they shift their wormhole?”
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Gavain frowned, and his aura held close to his body.
Gladiolus lost his smile. “We had the same situation with the Blath. They were fascinated by Iruedim and its wormhole. They had such grand plans. But, Iruedim doesn’t have the resources to maintain space flight. That’s an unchangeable fact.” Gladiolus leaned into the table. His aura stretched across, like a shadow.
Aria almost recoiled. It just touched her own shades of blue.
Gladiolus continued, “I was young, but I remember how my father struggled. He served as a contact to the Blath. Every time they needed something, they asked us. In the end, we offered them no more ships and no more resources. Do you know what happened?”
Gavain glanced down. “You lost contact.”
“Exactly. They disappeared. We don’t know exactly how. We assume the wormhole shifted, and they got conquered by one of Iruedim’s first colonies.” Gladiolus shrugged. “That’s what happens when you play with the wormhole. You never know what you’ll find. The Blath didn’t even experiment with the original wormhole, so the situation with Iruedim is almost worse than what we Volanter experienced.”
Aria frowned, but only on the inside. On the outside, she maintained her composure. She knew how Gladiolus felt about the situation: smug and logical. He wore drops of purple and his blue held steady. But, Gladiolus was also a bit frustrated. He showed that kind of red. And, if Aria looked very close, she could see a grey-blue. He was a bit sad.
Aria glanced over Genista’s aura. It remained steady, with its pale green base, except for a few blue ripples of sympathy. Sympathy for who? Aria couldn’t say. She guessed the Scaldin, maybe even the Iruedians. Maybe, the Blath.
Gladiolus sat back. His hands slid to the edge of the table, and he rested them there. “You’ve lost a fair number of ships and taken heavy damages. All in the name of defending Iruedim. You’re a smaller population, with a smaller planet. You worked for everything you have – your small planet, your resource rich system. Your ancestors would be disappointed to see you gamble it all away. And, I don’t mean the Anther when I refer to your ancestors. You may not approve of the Anther, but you approve of the others. You can’t deny that both the Anther and the people that joined with them would look down on this decision to ally yourselves with Iruedim.”
Gavain nodded slow.
Aria felt her eyes widen. She watched conflict churn in Gavain’s aura. He wore colors of anxiety, shades of orange, red, and yellow. He wore a sick, sympathetic blue. He agreed with Gladiolus, at least somewhat.
Alban spoke from his place at the door. “They’re a high risk, high reward ally. They can shift that wormhole and just as easily find something good.”
Gladiolus turned in his seat. “Would you like to join us?”
Alban stepped back. “No thanks.”
Gavain cleared his throat. “It’s true. The Iruedians could find something wonderful, and we know they would share it with us. They’ve already proven their loyalty and generosity. So, far, they’ve given us…” Gavain held up his hand and one finger. With each new list item, he added a new finger. “Magic and magical items. Information about how circles work. Training for our unbound individual. Offers to unbind us further. And…an offer of help against you.”
Gladiolus’ aura retreated. Deep blue took over, and all emotional colors left his person. With narrow eyes, he stared at Gavain.
“Our government might choose Iruedim based on the magical items alone.” Gavain shook his head. “We have nothing like that.”
Half true. Pan could make magical items, and someday, Pan could unbind the young arcane. Those young arcane could join the ranks of magical producers. Aria thought it would be a good career path, one you could do without ever leaving home. It certainly appealed to her, though she didn’t have the same artistic skill as Pan.
“As far as we can tell,” Gavain went on. “Their work with enchanted items far outstrips your own.”
Gladiolus inclined his head. “Well, the Blath were always at the forefront of magical research, and they abandoned our home, our sanctuary because they couldn’t tear themselves away. They died before their times.”
“They died at their times,” Gavain corrected. “Listen. Our relationship with Iruedim has a lot of potential, without any of the danger for domination.”
“We don’t want to dominate you.” Gladiolus’ aura rolled in blues and reds. His green took a background position.
Genista grabbed his arm and quieted his aura. “Maybe, I can help you understand how it works. My people are not dominated. There was a short time period about fifty years ago when we felt the same as you. We tried to break our bond to the Volanter, but that’s impossible. We are Volanter.”
Aria could see passion and belief. It showed in reds and pinks, rolled through Genista’s aura like waves, and disgusted Aria. She tried not to look at Genista’s head tentacles, which writhed and wiggled among all that red hair, igniting further disgust.
Gavain spread his hands. “As I understand it, you want us for marriage agreements and contribution to magical research. We aren’t open to either, seeing as they were one and the same when it came to the Anther.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Gladiolus said. “We weren’t aware of that line of research. The Anther invented that kind of binding, and we don’t condone it. We can and will unbind your people. Whenever you like.”
“Everything is voluntary where I come from.” Genista leaned forward. Her aura reached especially for Aria, and she spoke, especially to Aria. “No one is forced to intermarry against their will. And, plenty of the Illud stick to other Illud. But, there are also many who make the choice to marry Volanter. The magical research program is also well established and well regarded. It can only take so many members, and we have more than we have room for. So, no one would be forced into anything.”
Gavain sighed. His colors phased into a comfortable skepticism. “So you say. We had a very different experience with the Anther. It actually led Scaldigir to shy from partnerships with other groups. Our experience with the Iruedians has been different. They are our first allies – ever.” Gavain glanced at Aria. “Yes, they offer high risk but also high reward. They’ve offered to help us with all the same problems, and maybe, we would rather be in a position where we have to send them supplies. It gives us power that we could never have in a relationship with you.”
Aria felt pride, and to her surprise, it seeped into her aura. She saw the smug purple, a rare color, for her. She thought Gavain had said it well. They didn’t want a relationship where they could be bullied. Iruedim could never bully them.
Gladiolus sighed. “We don’t want to lose you.”
Aria frowned. She fidgeted in her chair and stared at Gladiolus. She almost opened her mouth to speak. Then, she exchanged a look with Gavain. He nodded and gestured for her to go ahead.
“I really wonder why you want us…and the Iruedians, before you changed your minds.” Aria glanced at the Dipinta Tree. Then, she looked back to Gladiolus. “The Iruedians tested their people, and they found that even the Girandolans had Volanter DNA. Girandola is nowhere near here or Iruedim. If you’ve touched so many different people, just go find someone more willing to join up.”
Gladiolus gave a short laugh. “I don’t know who visited Girandola, but it was likely just the Blath or what was left of them. If not them, then some small clan. You are not from a small clan.”
Aria said, “So, you want us because the Anther were important?”
Gladiolus rose from the table. “Take our proposition to your government. Discuss it among yourselves. It is precisely this. You break contact with Iruedim. In return, we will unbind your arcanes. We will allow you to participate in magical research as much or as little as you like. We will not set foot on your world, until you are comfortable with us. We will repair the damages you sustained in the war. We offer more security and just as much reward.”
“But no talking to Iruedians? Even outside our relationship with you?” Gavain asked.
Gladiolus shook his head. His colors became deep and hard to see through. “Absolutely no Iruedians. The Blath are dead to the Volanter.”
“What happened to the genetic contract?” Aria craned her neck to meet Gladiolus’ eyes, or his aura where his eyes should be. “I thought that we were all one and couldn’t be separated.”
“In your case, that’s true. Think of the Blath – the Iruedians – like cancer. They’ve gone off, so we will cut them off.” Gladiolus motioned for Genista to stand. “Genista can send you information about her people. You can see how things are supposed to work. For now, we’ll let you discuss this among yourselves. If the Iruedians set ship into your space, the negotiations end. We will attack.”
“The other option of course,” Alban called across the room. “Is that you take your happy clans, and you leave. We go our way. You go yours. There will be no doomsday scenario. No more wars, and we’ll all be somewhat satisfied with the situation. Maybe, you can visit Girandola, after all.”
Gladiolus stared at Alban. His aura pumped red. “We wouldn’t be satisfied abandoning you to space at large. The children of our species, like the Volanter, tend to have difficulty relating to the peoples not of our kind. You have no other allies, and that’s for a reason.”
Gavain’s aura again showed a churning sea of uncertainty. Aria looked away. She spotted some of those washed out colors in Alban’s aura and all the other Scaldin present. Aria looked at her own aura. She didn’t see uncertainty because she didn’t feel it. She was quite certain that the Scaldin did not play well with others – the Soffigen were exhibit one.
Era was exhibit two. They suppressed her, with an experimental implant, and tried to give her back to the other Soffigen. The Soffigen wouldn’t take her, partly because they denied the existence of their arcane project, partly because no one wanted someone like Era around.
Other Soffigen arcane popped up. Of those that survived, two were abandoned by their families. Aria remembered the newscast that described the event. Those that stayed among the Soffigen got ostracized by strangers. The Soffigen government might want Soffigen arcanes, but the people didn’t. And, the arcanes felt like they ceased to fit. In their own words and young voices, they described their inability to relate to their peers. They described it like a heavy loss, and many admitted to considering defection to the Scaldin.
At the time, Aria scoffed at the words. Though she ached to hear them, they reeked of politics and ploys to get the Soffigen to accept their arcanes, with threats of the Scaldin stealing them away. Aria thought it was all an act on the part of the government, because Scaldin arcanes did fine with non-powered Scaldin.
But, they all shared at least some Volanter. That might be the key.
Finally, wasn’t it what they told Era? That she was part Volanter and that made her part Scaldin?
Mother Tree…we’ve said the same things. We’ve got the same idea – the genetic contract.
Gavain stood. “Send us the information. We’ll review it and get back to you.” Gavain nodded his goodbye to Gladiolus and Genista.
Aria finally stood. She grabbed Gavain’s arm and used it to pull herself upright.
He looked at her. With his aura exhausted, she could see through to the same impression on his face. She peeked over his shoulder and watched as Gladiolus and Genista left. One slithered; the other walked. Gavain glanced their way too and waited. He waited a little longer.
After several moments of silence, he faced her. “Anything to add?”
“They believe everything they say and do,” Aria said. “They certainly have a lot of…conviction.”
“Even Genista?” Alban asked.
Aria nodded. “Especially Genista.”
Alban stalked deeper into the room. “Damn. I was hoping she would show the colors of a captive. This offer might tempt some of the Scaldin in power.”
“Let’s study what Genista sends first.” Gavain put his arm around Aria’s shoulder. “Maybe, it will make the Volanter look bad…or too good to be true. If that’s the case, we’ll stick with Iruedim. Now, let’s get you back to Scaldigir. Alban, can you take Aria home? She can call in whatever information she needs.”
“Sure.” Alban nodded. He gave a cursory glance to Aria. “What do you think? Want to be a Volanter? Want to supply our Iruedian friends? Which is it?”
“I don’t get to decide,” Aria said.
“No, and neither do I.” Alban beckoned both Gavain and Aria.
She began to follow. “I’m worried fear might be enough for some people to accept even a crummy offer.” Aria recalled the members of Scaldigir’s government.
Fearful yellow was not a rare color among their kind.
“They are very cautious,” Alban agreed. “Paint it as unpleasant as you can.”
Gavain showed some red determination. “I intend to.”