Ladies and Gentlemen

Today marks my tenth day since meeting the Azu-nah. It sure doesn’t feel like ten days. It feels like it was another lifetime ago that I landed on Minerva. Life on Earth? What? No, that’s not me. I’m Tee, my life is eating root-bread-corn thingies and trying to cram enough alien words into my head to ask where the bathroom is.

Actually, the time has also flown by. I’ve been learning so much that it amazes me. Surely my brain can’t keep this up, can it? Sometimes I wonder if I’m going to wake up one morning to a flashing blue screen across my forehead that says “Maximum capacity reached!” and I’ll have to start deleting childhood memories and the names of all my relatives to make space.

This morning dawned clear and… well, greenish rather than blue. But it was still pretty. I still haven’t gotten used to the morning noises here. You don’t realize it, but hearing birds and crickets and things is practically in your DNA. Waking up to sounds that a cricket isn’t physically capable of making throws your brain all off balance. There’s one creature that can make more than one tone call at the same time. It sounds like a little chittery duet, and no matter how many times I hear it, my brain still shrieks “What in hell IS that?!” every time.

Kohric met me first thing, happily carrying the pouch of the tiger tree (“rikosh”) fruits I’d brought him yesterday. Around a crunching mouthful he told me we’d start learning about D’Keda’s “ways,” and then waved a hand at me to get my attention.

“Question first,” he said. His ears were laid back and he looked almost... uncomfortable. “Tee is Tee. Tee is human. Kohric not know if Tee is ikiti or damode.” His ears were flicking now. He flipped his tail around to ruffle the base of his mane. “Damode has,” he said, watching me carefully. “Ikiti has not,” and he pulled the hair of his mane down so that it was not sticking up along his neck.

Oh hell. He was just asking this now? Dude! Though, I really couldn’t blame him. The symbols for men and women on the LangTutor probably didn’t mean jack to him.

“Er.. Azu-nah Tee would not have,” I fumbled, fussing with my hair. “Tee is ..ikiti. Female” I gestured vaguely to my chest. “Er… Human ikiti have. Human damode have not.” I hope no super flat-chested women show up before I can explain this one to him better. That could get ugly.

Kohric seemed extremely pleased, and kept muttering “Ikiti, ikiti, Tee-Tee,” in a silly, sing-song voice as we went on our way. I think he was teasing me a bit, but Azu humor is still a bit beyond me.

He took me to the teaching place, the ubiquitous LangTutor in one hand. He sat down on the ground and began drawing in the sand with one claw tip. He drew a circle and pointed to it. “D’Keda,” he said, and gestured vaguely around at the clan’s territory. Simple enough. He drew lines in the circle, dividing it into thirds.

”Three ones keep balance of D’Keda.” I took that as there are three people who govern or run things, and from the drawing, their “power” was pretty equally shared.

Kohric pointed to one third, “Aket-oizo, one who guides. This one chooses for clan. Sends ones gets food, finds water. Keep D’Keda ones safe, not hungry, not thirsty, not fight.” In the section he’d been pointing to, Kohric drew a circle, with incomplete, segmented rings around it. From our previous sessions, I knew this was a symbol for the sun.



He pointed to another third. “Sa-kudayu, one who watches. Watch prey, watch food, watch water. These Sa-kudayu protect always. Keeps hunters. Must keep balance also. Hunt too much, take too much? Cannot keep balance. This one watches, keeps safe the near-world.” This third got a half circle and a smaller crescent drawn in it. Minerva’s two moons.



He pointed to the last third. “Kan, one who sees. Kan knows of... “ here he fumbled, fussed with the LangTutor, and then gave it up. “Kan sees inside,” he said finally, pointing to his chest. “Kan heals wound, stop hurt. Also this one sees... inside. Inside Azu-nah, inside tree, inside river. Kan sees and heals all hurts.” He drew a circle, with another, incomplete circle inside, and triangles around the outside.



I had not seen this symbol before, and I asked him. I pointed to the first two, saying the Azu words for “sun” and “moons.” The last, I pointed and held my palms open in question. Kohric’s lips stretched and he gape-grinned wider than I’d seen him do so yet. “Azu,” he said, and pointed first to the symbol, and then to the sky. It was daylight, so no stars were visible, but his gesture was obvious enough.

I’d first thought the Kan position was some kind of doctor-biologist. But now it made much more sense. Kohric had already told me stars were important to them. It’s in their name. “Kan” must act in some ways as a doctor, but “seeing inside” must mean he’s also a kind of shaman, or spiritual leader.

I was fascinated. “Can I meet them?”

Kohric flicked his tail in a gesture I was coming to understand expressed a vague affirmative. “Learn first more words. They have no English.” (Kohric always says it “Inguleesh.” And human is “hyooman.” The Azu-nah pronounce every part of a word. There aren’t any “silent” syllables or letters in their language, so some of Kohric’s pronunciations were hilarious.)

I tried not to be disappointed. But I didn’t blame Kohric. No reason to take the babbling barbarian near the cream of D’Keda’s crop until he’d spiffed her up a bit.

“More words now,” he said holding up the LangTutor. “Soon D’Keda leave this place. Much work. Tee must learn more, or become confused and we leaving behind.” He grinned at me.

I stuck out my tongue at him and playfully snatched the LangTutor to select the word for our next lesson.