Kiini Salaam - Ancient, Ancient

When Se-se had learned that Laki was promised to a mother-unit, she launched a concerted effort to save her sister. The closer Laki got to maturation, the more wound up and frenzied Se-se became. She knew that her efforts sometimes spiraled into a mania, but she was powerless to stop herself.

When the roof of the landing room finally slid open in the early evening, Se-se had been waiting in the shadows. She had watched Laki’s pod land on the launching pad. She had remained silent as Laki created a small opening at the base of the pod and wriggled out.

“Sister…” Se-se had said as soon as Laki stood up.

But Laki hadn’t heard her. She stood there gazing up at the sky through the opening in the roof.

“Sister!” Se-se had yelled.

Laki’s head had jerked to look over to where Se-se stood. When she saw her sister waiting for her, Laki crossed her arms and pinched her mouth tight. She stole a glance at her deflating pod, then turned back to Se-se.

Se-se barreled toward her. “We’ve already eaten twice. You sent no messages. You’ve missed your trainings…” It was then that Se-se had seen the belt. She stopped short. She reached for Laki’s waist.

“Where did you find this?” she finally whispered.

Laki had looked down as if she did not know there was a very heavy marriage belt wrapped around her waist, a marriage belt she had not been wearing the previous day when she left home.

“Can’t get it off,” Laki had said, shrugging.

Se-se had surprised herself by murmuring, “It outshines even mine.”

Laki had grinned and kissed Se-se’s cheek. “Don’t worry, sweet Se-se, yours is more true.”

Se-se had put her hand to her cheek as if to hold the kiss there. She felt as if her mind would explode. Laki wearing a marriage belt?! Se-se had masterminded several meticulously planned campaigns to get Laki paired up with a mate. Laki had stubbornly refused each plan. Her excuses ran the gamut from bad breath to inadequate personality to insufficient height. Nothing Se-se had said could sway her. Not even her most logical arguments proposing marriage to several of Laki’s friends. Laki was adamant that marriage should be reserved for magical connections. Anything less would not be entertained.

Se-se had followed Laki around the landing room, pestering her as Laki closed the entrance in the roof and flattened then folded her deflated pod.

“Who gave it to you? It must have come from Embankment 5, or Embankment 7 at least.”

Laki had paused. She looked down to inspect the belt as if considering its worth. Then she had shaken off Se-se’s question and stalked out of the pod landing room.

Se-se had followed, undeterred. “Sisterrrrrrr, who is he?”

Laki had walked to her room and unsealed it without answering.

“Two days to maturation,” the voice had said when Laki entered her room.

Se-se had entered behind her and sat on the floor. “Come on, what’s his name? Maybe I can find him. You met him in the rendezvous-less stretch, didn’t you?”

Laki had bent over to unbutton her boots. “It’s called the rendezvous-less zone.”

“I bet you don’t know anything about him. Did you at least get his name? You still have one more day, don’t you think you should…”

“Stop talking and help me get this thing off.”

Se-se had stood and walked over to Laki. She leaned over and started fumbling with the belt’s knot.

“Is he a friend of yours?”

Laki had sighed. Se-se’s persistence was unextinguishable. “No, I met him by accident.”

“Do you think he likes you?”

“I think he likes women. Are you getting anywhere with that?”

The knot was so tiny that Se-se had trouble holding on to it. No matter how firmly she tugged at it, it refused to come apart for her fingers.

“Did you even get his name?”

Laki had slapped Se-se’s hand. “That’s enough. I guess I’ll have to cut it off.”

Se-se had gasped. “But then it’ll be destroyed.”

“Who cares? He’s a rebel. He doesn’t care about marriage; he doesn’t care about rules. It’s just a belt to him.”

Laki had thrown off her clothing and stepped into the bathing module. She was still wearing the belt.

“Maybe it won’t come off for a reason,” Se-se had said.

But Laki hadn’t answered. The sound of water flowing had been her only reply.

As soon as Laki had stepped out of the bathing module, a tinkling sound had wafted into the room. Both Se-se and Laki had frozen. Panic flared across Laki’s face as she grabbed at her discarded cloths. She had picked up one of the cloths and hurriedly attempted to reconfigure it into a loose robe. Se-se tried to help, but she couldn’t undo the seams on Laki’s cloths. After Laki had succeeded at making the cloth flat again, she threw it over her shoulders, but it barely covered her torso.

Head-mother squeezed through the entrance of Laki’s room. Se-se and Laki kneeled. With their heads bowed, neither of them saw five other mothers enter the room after head-mother. But they had heard them. Thousands of tiny bells sewn to the mother-unit’s cloths rang out as a shimmering veil pulled them into Laki’s room. The mother-unit stood in the middle of the room, bound together by a veil that cloaked their bodies and distorted their features. Each individual woman was unidentifiable, but the force of their presence was unmistakable. The air swelled with powerful emanations of love.

No one had spoken as each of the mothers surveyed different corners of the room. Within seconds, the mother-unit could step into a room and dissect the situation that had been unfolding. The sensation of being deeply seen, disrobed of all pretenses, was so overwhelming that Laki was on the verge of swooning and Se-se began to cry.

“Stand up, children,” the mother-unit had hummed.

One mother had moved forward and embraced Se-se.

“Mothers, I am sorry for missing my training today. I know I have a lot to learn about the cloak, but….” Laki had stopped to gulp down the quivering in her voice.

“What is this around your waist?” the mother-unit had sung.

Head-mother had glided toward Laki from her position in the center of the room. The tiny bells tinkled as the other mothers moved with her in one undulating ripple.

Laki had fingered the belt without looking at it. “It is a marriage belt, but it was given to me as a gift, not as a proposition.”

“A thoughtless gift to a girl who is two days from maturation.”

Head-mother had reached out, every move an orchestra of tinkling. She palmed the belt with cloaked hands, testing its weight.

“Quite heavy, the young man is from Embankment 5?”

Se-se had perked up, thinking she might finally learn something about the mysterious giver of marriage belts. Laki was silent.

“La-Laki,” a mother had sung, “Head-mother has asked you a question.”

“Mothers, I don’t know where he lives. I only know that his name is Fogo.”

“You can’t bring a marriage belt with you into your mother-unit,” hummed another mother.

“You must return the belt,” a third mother sang, “We wouldn’t want his family coming for it.”

“You have a way to return it?” head-mother sang.

Laki had fallen silent. She remembered Fogo’s face, blank and disoriented, after their rendezvous. She’d had to remind him who she was. Why he had wanted to see her again was unclear to her, but he’d refused to take the marriage belt off her waist. He told her it was his insurance that she’d meet up with him again. Laki had no plans to renew their encounter. Marriage belt or not, she didn’t enjoy the indignity of being inconsequential, and she wouldn’t spend any time courting a repeat of the morning after.