Barry Longyear - Enemy Papers

"It didn’t say it was going to be on that ship, Jetah. There is another ship today from Draco," offered Orin. "Perhaps it will be on that."

"Falna is coming from Earth," replied Zammis. "Why would it be on a ship from Draco?"

"The Talman Kovah is there. The Jetai Diea. Its mentor, Jeriba Shigan," pointed out the retainer. "In any event, Falna did say it wasn’t certain when it would arrive and it would make its own way out to the estate."

"Nonsense," states Zammis. "If we have to meet every ship from everywhere for eternity, there will be a familiar face here to greet Estone Falna." Zammis nods toward my garments. "Are those the warmest clothes you have."

I frown at the question. "Yes."

"Very well." Zammis turns to Orin and says in English, "Let’s get it in the air, Flash. Do we have enough time to hit Binswanger’s, bring Yazi Ro to the estate, and still have Alri Gan make it back to the port to meet the ship from Draco? Should we send another car?"

"I’m sure we have enough time, jetah."

Zammis nods. "Excellent. Tell Gan to make for Binswanger’s." Turning to me, it says, "You need something warmer."

"I am warm enough."

Orin and Zammis both laugh, and after a pause, Orin glances at Zammis. "Binswanger’s?"

Zammis nods. "Binswanger’s."

Orin bows and leads us out of the waiting area to a set of thermal doors made of glass. Outside the doors is a brilliantly illuminated tunnel, different kinds of vehicles passing by the doors. Innocent-looking clouds of ice dust hang in the air as they move by the glass. A sleek, gleaming red vehicle is parked in the tunnel, waiting, and inside the doors another retainer, Alri Gan, waits. Gan wears a hooded coat with two additional coats draped over its arm. Orin takes a coat, helps Zammis on with it, then puts on its own coat. They are thick, covered in some kind of leather with hoods and gloves attached. I think that I would suffocate from the heat in one of those, then Gan signals the doors to open.

Before I take a step, I am stunned by the cold. My breath steams and I feel the surface of my exposed skin burning. Each breath inhaled is a fiery draft from hell. The areas of my body that are covered feel as though they are being pierced with knives of ice. I can feel my skin and muscles contracting in the cold.

Gan hurries us into the vehicle, and I sit in the warmth, my eyes tightly shut, allowing the soft upholstery to cuddle me as I hug myself. I hear the doors close and the whine of the engine, then feel a gentle pressure as the vehicle accelerates and grows even warmer. I risk opening my eyes and see that Gan and Orin are seated in front and I am in the rear with Zammis seated on my right. I look through the window next to me and we are out of the tunnel flying far above the frozen, wind-punished cityscape of First Colony. There are buildings the tops of which poke through the otherwise unbroken blanket of snow and ice. A shudder rattles my body and I turn to see Jeriba Zammis examining me.

"Binswanger’s ?" it asks.

I nod in defeat. "Binswanger’s," I answer.

Alri Gan lands the craft in a tunnel at the base of a huge structure that looks like an enormous glittering ball sitting on the ice. In one last blast of cold, we leave the craft and enter the place where we are met by the owner, a thin, balding human named Abraham J. Binswanger, who escorts us and waits upon us personally.

Binswanger’s is a many-leveled wonderland of riches, each level connected to the others through a complicated web of moving walks and sliding stairs. To me it seems like the land of the Irrvedan must have seemed to Uhe and the starving ancient Mavedah, like the Promised Land must seem to the humans. Coats, hats, boots, shirts, sleeping clothes, undergarments, child clothes, baby clothes all of it new. Scents, jewels, furniture, pictures, machines for transportation, entertainment, work and business, tools, farming implements and supplies, flowers, equipment and uniforms for sports, and towers and towers of books, none of them ever having been opened.

I touch the books and ache to fill my mind with the contents of them all. Before entering Binswanger’s establishment I never saw a new book. Here I think I feel something of what the ancients must have felt when they discovered the universe.

There are copies of the English translation of The Talman . I turn a copy over and on the back is a picture of the human, Willis E. Davidge. His hair is dark turning to gray, great streaks of gray in his beard at the corners of his mouth. In the picture his mouth is open in laughter. Next to those books are maps and brochures advertising tours of the cave where, during the war, USEF fighter pilot Willis E. Davidge and Drac fighter pilot Jeriba Shigan made their home and Shigan’s child Zammis was delivered by the human. I point at the brochure and turn to Jeriba Zammis. "Is this Zammis your nameparent?"

Zammis looks at the brochure and grimaces. "It’s terrible how they’ve commercialized the area. Yes, this was my nameparent." It looks at me, eyebrows raised in resignation. "That’s why Uncle found another cave far from here, and why we moved the Jeriba estate closer to it."

"Another cave? The human still lives in a cave?"

Zammis smiles and nods as its eyes focus on treasured memory. "Yes," it answers. "The human still lives in a cave."

I look back at the leaflet and see that part of the tour includes the original gravesite of Jeriba Shigan and Shigan’s parent, Gothig. This fighter pilot, then, was the nameparent of the Ovjetah of the Talman Kovah.

"We have all of these on reader buttons, as well," offers Abraham Binswanger. I look at him, confused. Undev Orin reaches into a pocket and withdraws a small flat plastic box. Orin opens it and inside are several multicolored discs, each one the size of a fingertip, as well as a player mounted with a screen.

"You can get a reader and quite a few buttons for what a book costs," offers Jeriba Zammis’s retainer.

"I want the book," I answer.

Jeriba Zammis faces Abraham Binswanger and says, "He wants the book."

While Undev Orin arranges for the purchase of the book, Zammis, Binswanger and I move on to the department for clothes. In the end I am clad in completely new garments from the skin out and have outerwear that seems capable of withstanding a bath in liquid nitrogen. Mentally preparing to high-grade the purchases, keeping only what I absolutely need and can afford, I ask Binswanger the price of it all. He holds out his hands, smiles, and says, "It has all been taken care of."

Back in the craft, Jeriba Zammis says that it will take into midafternoon before we reach the Jeriba estate and there are business matters that need tending. In moments Zammis is talking with a business colleague, working through a computer index, and writing notes all at the same time. By overhearing conversations I manage to learn how Jeriba Zammis earned its blue stripe. Zammis is a financier, Jetah of Colony Reserve. When there is a lull in the activity, I turn to Zammis.

"My apologies for interrupting, Jetah."

It looks up from its work and faces me. "Yes?"

"Do you do any business with Earth IMPEX?"

Zammis’s eyebrows rise. "Of course. It’s the largest mineral exploration and development corporation in the quadrant. Why do you ask?"

I think of the stars, and my tears. "I met someone on the ship. A human named Michael Hill. Do you know him?"

The brows come down. "I know him very well. He represents IMPEX on Friendship. I’ve done business with IMPEX through him for ten years or more. He is very well respected among those who do interplanetary trade in First Colony. Is there a difficulty?"

"No." I return to looking through the window, remembering Hill’s comment about making plans and hearing God laugh. The vehicle streaks away from the city, far from the flashing lights of visual directional beacons. Soon the other traffic is left behind, as well. In moments we are over a steel-gray ocean, its angry waters whipped into frothy caps by an incredible storm that the craft’s computers neutralize into a calm passage. In moments I close my eyes and sleep.