Humans will never leave the forest, just as Harmagians will never leave the shore.
Eyas, Half a Standard Later
Every fourth day, she reviewed her lesson plans and practised her explanations, and every fifth day, she went to the spare classroom she’d reserved at the technical school, where no one but the other instructors – the other people she’d asked to do this – were waiting. Fifth day had become the most depressing day out of ten. Her usual work included.
She stepped off the transport pod, and, as she walked through the plaza, she did the necessary preparation of keeping her expectations low. Nobody will be there, she told herself. Maybe nobody ever would. Ten tendays, she’d told her assorted volunteers. If they tried this for ten tendays and nobody showed up, they’d call it quits. Well, this was the ninth tenday, and that meant she only had to sit around an empty classroom two more gruelling times before she could go back to her life and forget this whole idea. Just forget this whole thing ever—
Her interest piqued as she saw Sunny running out of the school and across the plaza toward her. He stopped a few feet in front of her, eager as a kid who’d flown his first shuttle. ‘There’s people,’ he said.
Eyas’ jaw dropped. ‘What? No. Really?’ She hurried along the way he’d come. ‘How many?’
‘Three.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Dead serious. I guess those pixel posters Amad keeps putting up at the docks worked.’
Eyas tried to get her wits about her as they entered the school and walked down the corridor. Three people! It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Finally, at last: a start.
‘Oh, no,’ she said. She came to a halt before they entered the classroom door.
‘What’s up?’
Eyas paused. ‘We’ve never had people before.’
Sunny laughed. ‘Are you scared?’
She cuffed him. ‘Of course not. I’m just . . .’ She took a breath. He squeezed her shoulder. ‘Okay. People.’
The door spun open, and sure enough, there they were: a young woman, a middle-aged man, and . . . She turned and gave Sunny a secret, surprised look. An Aeluon.
Sunny raised his eyebrows and gave a nod of yeah, I know.
The other instructors turned to look at her, each as excited as she was. Eyas took a breath, and walked up to the teacher’s station at the front of the room. The others sat in the chairs lined up alongside her, like they’d practised. ‘Hello, everybody,’ Eyas said to the attendees. ‘Thank you so much for coming to our workshop.’ She gestured at the assembled volunteers. ‘We’re the Exodan Cultural Education Collective.’ She gave a slight pause, half expecting at least one of the attendees to realise they were in the wrong place and leave. None did. She smiled. ‘Right. So.’ This was harder than she’d anticipated. At the Centre, there were Litanies and traditions, set ceremonies to follow. She’d planned this class out, sure, but that didn’t change the fact that she had made this whole thing up, and was making it up still.
She glanced over at Sunny. He winked. She steadied. ‘This is a whole-day workshop, but if you need to leave at any time, feel free. We’re hoping, at some point, to split this into individual classes – and more advanced classes as well – but we’re new, and we’re learning, too, so for now, you get all of us at once.’ She paused, the presence of an alien prompting the realisation of something she should’ve thought of ahead of time. ‘Does everyone here speak Ensk?’
The middle-aged man nodded. The Aeluon wiggled her hand. ‘Yes,’ the young woman said in some staggeringly thick fringer accent. ‘But not much well.’
Eyas shifted linguistic gears. ‘Klip remmet goigagan?’
Everyone nodded, including the Aeluon. She’d clearly spent time around Humans. Eyas turned to the row of instructors. ‘That okay with you guys?’ she asked in Ensk.
‘Mine’s not great,’ Jacira said. She was older, maybe fifty or so.
‘That’s okay,’ Eyas said. ‘Just do it in Ensk, and one of us will translate.’ She switched back to Klip. ‘This better? Okay, good. Our goal here today is to give you a good starting point for finding the resources and assistance you need to begin a life in the Fleet. We’re going to cover a huge range of topics and services, and there will be plenty that we won’t have time for. We’re not here to teach you everything, but our hope is that you’ll leave here knowing where to find the right answers. Let me introduce you to your instructors. Some of these professions won’t be things you’re familiar with. Others will be, and they’re here to highlight some of the differences between our way of doing things and the ways you might be more used to. I’ll start with myself, and we’ll go down the line. My name’s Eyas. I’m a caretaker for the dead. I conduct funeral rites and . . . well, I’ll explain the specifics of it later.’ She turned to the other volunteers. ‘Let’s focus on the living for now, yeah?’
‘Hi, I’m Ayodeji,’ the first said. ‘I’m a doctor at a neighbourhood clinic. I’ll be answering your questions about basic medical care.’
‘Hi, I’m Tohu. I’m a ferry pilot. I’m gonna explain how to get around, both inside a homesteader and in between.’
‘I’m Jacira. I’m a bug farmer, and I’ll be talking to you about food stores and water management.’
‘Hey there, I’m Sunny.’ He smiled with all the confidence in the world. ‘I’m a sex worker, and I’ll be explaining where to go if you want to get laid.’
The young woman stared. The man laughed. The Aeluon looked at him, confused as to what was funny.
The instructors continued – a mural artist, a mech tech, a trade-only merchant – until there were no more names to give. Eyas turned to the class. ‘Now, I’d like you three to introduce yourselves as well. Who are you, where are you from, and what brings you here?’
The students sat in silence for a moment, like all groups of strangers did. The man spoke first. ‘I’m Bruno,’ he said. ‘I’m a spacer. From Jupiter Station originally, but that was a long time ago. I haul cargo – foodstuff, mainly. The Fleet’s been one of my stops for six standards now, and I’m considering putting an end to all the back and forth. I like the people here, but I’m . . . I’m not quite sure yet.’ He gestured to the instructors. ‘I was hoping you could give me a better idea of what I’d be in for.’
Eyas smiled. ‘We’ll certainly try.’
‘I’m Lam,’ the Aeluon said. ‘I am sure you weren’t expecting me.’
The room chuckled. ‘Not exactly,’ Eyas said kindly.
‘I’m from Sohep Frie, and I’m a textile merchant,’ Lam said. ‘I’m not going to relocate here, but I would like to understand the Exodans I work with better. They make great effort to make me comfortable. I’d like to be able to do the same.’
Eyas hadn’t considered that other species might find value in a Exodan cultural crash course. Something to add to the workshop description, she supposed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amad, the poster maker, already making a note on her scrib. ‘That’s wonderful,’ Eyas said. ‘We’re delighted to have you here.’ She looked to the woman. ‘And what about you?’
The young woman swallowed. Eyas could tell she was shy. ‘I’m Anna,’ the woman said. ‘I don’t really . . . I guess I’m . . . I dunno. I guess I’m trying something new.’