When Yazi Ro had its first child, the founder named its child for its partner, Tomas. In turn, Tomas Muñoz named his new son Ro. The two children grew together until Tomas was no longer a child. Yazi Tomas maintained a close friendship with Ro Muñoz, though, until the war started on Amadeen. No one seems to know why it started, or how. Something about land and an unjust decision made by some court. The only thing certain was that members of the other species were responsible. The Yazi-Muñoz business venture struggled along for another year, but it eventually was consumed by the widening war. The partnership ended along with the friendship when Ro Muñoz was slain by an angry mob of Drac miners and Tomas Muñoz returned to Earth.
Yazi Tomas attempted to keep a much smaller foodstuff supply business going by itself, but war respects no contracts and soon Tomas was pressed into service by the newly organized Shorda Continental Defense Force, which later changed its name to the Mavedah. Tomas’s only child, Itah, went directly into the Mavedah, as did its child, Tahl. As my parent’s nameparent was born, the quarantine was placed on Amadeen, and there the information ends, The cycle of names is there, though, and the probe fills in the missing names. I am the eleventh of my line. If I should ever conceive, my child would carry this human’s name: Tomas.
"Ro, did your parent ever tell you about this Tomas Muñoz, and about their business?"
I glance at Ty, only part of my mind on its question. "I do not remember. I was so young when Avo was killed. I may have been told, but I do not remember."
"You have an information notice aid. May I see what it is?"
I look and there is a spot on the screen blinking between white and blue. I get up from the link and go to the office’s window wall as Jeriba Ty sits before the link and gives the probe some new instructions. The window looks out upon a distant chain of mountains, the tops black with cliffs too steep to hold ice or snow. My eyes see the mountains but my mind is on Amadeen and a time when a Drac and a human could become business partners and name their children after each other. How did we move from such a place to Douglasville where that man, that human, took its captured energy knife and cut poor Lota Min into screaming pieces?
The wounds on Amadeen are so many, so deep, so ghastly, how can there be an end to it? How can we live in a world where we cannot kill humans, where there is nothing left to do but feel the pain of our many losses while staring at the shattered remains of so many futures?
"Yazi Ro, do you know a human named Michael Hill?"
My thoughts touch the passenger lounge of the Venture and the man who told me about the danger of looking at the stars alone. "I met him on the ship." I turn to face Ty. "He is a representative for Earth IMPEX."
Jeriba Ty is frowning as it looks at the screen. "It seems that Michael Hill is very interested in anyone carrying the line name of Yazi." Ty shakes a finger at the screen and says, "More specifically, he’s interested in anyone who has an interest in a Yazi line name. Hill has entered an automatic call request that his message station be notified of the names of everyone who does a probe on any of the Yazi lines."
I turn from the window and face Ty. "I don’t understand."
"What it amounts to is that this man wants to know if anyone, most likely you, did a probe on the Yazi line name."
"Is there some way to hide my inquiry?"
Ty shakes its head. "No. All of this―the line histories, the names of those who file requests―is public information. Michael Hill has already been notified that you did a probe on your line. Might he be a danger?"
I lower myself into a chair facing Ty. "Your parent said that it has done business with Michael Hill for years. Zammis said that Hill is well respected."
"Perhaps it’s just curiosity concerning a chance encounter on board a ship."
I think back and recall that face in my mind. For a human it is a handsome, pleasant face. Honest, hiding nothing. Perhaps it is just curiosity. Those who travel far from home may need things with which to occupy their time. Still, the man might be the descendant of someone in the Amadeen Front or the USE Force who thinks he has a debt to collect against Dracs of the Yazi line. He was on Draco at the same time I was. Perhaps Michael Hill has some interest in the Jetai Diea’s charge that sent me on my mission to Friendship.
"Does Hill know where I am staying? Is that information public, as well?"
"It’s not public information, Ro, but having Jeriba Zammis pick you up at the port effectively announced to the entire population of First Colony where you are staying. With your permission, I will have my parent look into the matter of Michael Hill." Ty looks up at me and smiles as it hands me a copy of my line probe. "If Uncle had you learn your line, the next thing he’ll want is for you to memorize it. Then The Talman. Before he’s finished he will have you in front of your line’s archives reciting line and book."
In my rooms I look at the copy of my line. Eleven names is all. If I had been born into the Jeriba line I would have had to memorize over two hundred histories, as well as The Talman. What a fantasy it is: Yazi Ro, filled with knowledge, reciting line and book in front of the Yazi Archives, my human Jetah standing with me as I receive the belated robes of adulthood.
My line is missing a few histories, though; the Yazi archives are smashed and in Front-controlled territory on Amadeen, while my Jetah, Uncle Willy, is safe in his cave beneath Friendship’s protective clouds. Still it is a nice fantasy. I take the paper and read from it, my tongue wrestling around the ancient, unfamiliar sounds of formal Dracon.
Before you here I stand, Ro of the line of Yazi, born of Avo, the teacher of English…
I stop as I realize the hopelessness of it all. I do not know if Avo itself stood the rites, and if so, when. There is so much missing. A great weariness fills me and I lie on the bed, close my eyes, and, just before I search my usual nightmares, I see Estone Falna as it was at the repast, strong, witty, smart, full of fun. A longing begins in me that I extinguish as soon as I know what it is, because it can never be.
…I hear a dog. The night is cold, Amadeen’s moon huge and bright in the sky. The dog is whimpering, begging for an end to its pain. Except for the dog, it is quiet, the fighting and bombing at an end for now. Inside the bombed-out structure, Avo is sitting in a shadow looking across the street, its eyes wet with tears.
"Avo?" I call from its side where I have been trying to sleep. "Avo, what is wrong? Are they coming again?"
"No, child. They are gone for now."
I reach up and touch my parent’s cheek. "Why do you cry?"
Avo nods at the ruins across the street. "Do you remember the building that once stood there?"
"No."
"You were just born, I suppose, when it was last used. The Mavedah stored supplies there until the building was destroyed completely by a Front bombing. Before that, when I was a child, it was a hospital." Avo looks down at me. "My parent once told me that very long ago, before the war, your nameparent’s nameparent had a business there where it sold food and many other things."
My parent returns its gaze to the ruin. "Yazi Tahl told me that Dracs and humans both shopped there, and that your nameparent’s nameparent even worked with a human in the business." Its head lowers until Avo’s chin rests on its chest. "I don’t know if I believe that," it says, "though I always thought of this building with a special warmth, until it was destroyed. Now it makes me sad."