<h2>Planet 5 / Ch. 39: Waterfalls</h2>


    </a>Central Caneth


    “Well, sister?” Esme asked Isthana, whose face looked drawn with worry. “What''s happening? You''ve lost the happy bounce you had.”


    “I''m still happy about meeting Hwalf. But there''s a problem.”


    “Yes?”


    “Hwalf''s father was (mistakenly, according to Hwalf) on the edges of dum-semb, and his mother therefore refuses to speak badly of it, and is actually hardening her position. She''s so defensive of her late husband that she could be accused of turning into an advocate for it.”


    “People are complex, and sometimes not very sensible. What does Hwalf think?”


    “It''s really difficult for him, but he''s issued a formal warning to her, that if she makes another comment that might be taken as supporting dum-semb she''ll be sent for trial. She sees me as the instigator of this, ''driving a wedge between her and her son.''”


    “Oh, Isthana!” Esme grasped her sister''s hand compassionately.


    “We''re praying. It might be best if we don''t see each other much for a while. Distract me?


    "How''s the moot? Hwalf wasn''t exactly optimistic on the first day.”


    “I''m making the men work hard for their food, and am generally viewed as a destroyer of parties. But the women''s moot is going well. I present their comments to the men as my own, at the wives'' request, but if they''re happy then so am I.”


    “That was a good idea of Salay''s,” Isthana said.


    “It was, yes,” Esme agreed.


    “Are you going to tell the men at the end?”


    “That it''s been certain wives and mothers acting as the revising chamber? Yes. But I''m going to leave it vague who''s been helping. Is Hwalf outside?”


    “Yes, we were going to take a walk.”


    “Ask him to come in, can you? He still doesn''t like thinking to me.”


    Hwalf entered the pavilion where Esme and Isthana sat. “Judge Hwalf, I was considering asking you to be arbitrator of the moot, but Isthana tells me your mother is causing problems, and so that''s not a good role for you, not at all. But I''ve been considering another possible role for you as well. Seeing how effective you are at at questioning people — even without your gift — I''m going to ask you to consider the post of grand vizier of Caneth instead. I hope that''s not inconvenient for you, we — father and I — were hoping the post could be left vacant and the lower courts deal with everything, but I think that was too optimistic. We do need the post filled, and Tumbril is officially retired. He''s has been begging me to find someone to take on the role, and suggested a trustworthy judge from Central Caneth. You fit. If you decline the role, then I''m going to give you the task of finding someone who would be very trustworthy, is flexible, good at talking to people at all levels of society, follows God, hates corruption, who can teach and isn''t too proud to do unpleasant things like hobble camels or check their dung for signs of what they''ve been fed if that''s what''s necessary.”


    “You''ve heard of that, then.” Hwalf said. “The story was spread to injure, I expect.”


    “It was,” Esme agreed. “But some people don''t realise how loud a decision not to tell the whole truth is.”


    <hr>


    </a>Azunga port


    “Hello, Naneela. Welcome to the independent swamps of Azunga,” Ungana said.


    “It looks a bit rocky to me.”


    “Well, OK, this is the coast. The swamps start the other side of those trees up there.”


    “So the waterfalls are swamp-water?”


    “Yes. I don''t recommend you wash in them, they stink. They represent our half-hearted and pig-headed attempt at draining the swamp from this side. It took five thousand men five years to dig them, and almost every piece of metal in the country turned into rust-flakes in the process. When the treaty with your great-grandfather put a stop to digging them there was a national holiday. That rock is hard highness, and it gets harder the deeper you get. All that work, and it diverts maybe a fiftieth of the river, from the portion of it that''s about to leave anyway.”


    “I was taught it was supposed to give you control over the water supply to South Tunga.”


    “Yes the idea was to have forced you to dig that canal we want. That idea lasted about two months, at which point they got into the really hard rock and every barrow-full of removed rock was costing at least a pick-axe. So rather than give up my stubborn ancestor told the workers to make lots of waterfalls instead. An almost totally pointless way to cripple the economy not to mention half the working population for a generation. All it did was make sure the city up there doesn''t flood much in springtime, which used to at least wash the streets clean.”


    “Quite pretty though,” Naneela said. “It would be a shame for you to lose them.”


    Ungana looked at Naneela in horror. “Do not say that, highness. Please. I can''t vouch for your safety if you repeat that. All the time they''re flowing, the land is a mosquito-infested stick-hole. Changing the subject, can you explain to me why you need to change ships here?”


    “Kanuga is apparently worried about too many people learning how to get to their city. They trust the captain that took Tangseng there but would rather not trust anyone else. Tangseng''s not arrived yet?”


    “No.” Ungana said.


    “Oh well. Father asked me to give this set of papers to you. Other than copies of various arrest warrants that he sends for your government''s information and general entertainment, it''s highly secret and conditional on all the normal things.”


    “Such as you getting home safely?”


    “Not in such a way as that might make me an assassination target for people opposed for what''s offered, no.”


    “Who''s been arrested?”


    “I''m not sure they have been yet, travel being what it is. But the warrants are with official messengers, anyway. Oh, father told me you should feel free to forward them to your border-posts. They concern various officials in the Tungan protectorates near to your border, on the charge of falsifying official reports regarding certain pieces of alleged arable-land, that get discussed in the other documents. There''s a lot to negotiate, of course.”


    Ungana looked at Naneela for a long while. “I was going to suggest that you stay overnight at a certain reputable inn. But in the circumstances I think I ought to be inviting you and your future husband to the palace to talk to mother and my sister.”


    “Husband,” Naneela corrected, holding Kahlel closely. “Father thought it would be better if we travelled as a married couple. It also means that Kahlel cannot even technically be under the authority of the Tungan governors or feud-laws any more, which some people might have considered him to be previously.”


    “Congratulations!” Ungana said. “If this is your honeymoon, would you prefer the inn after all?”


    “I think we can probably spare international diplomacy a few hours,” Kahlel said. “As long as that doesn''t prevent the occasional kiss.”


    <hr>


    </a>Bubble Ship Training Centre, Mars


    Humph reached what had become his normal seat in the dining room and put down his tray. The girl he''d noticed in the centre''s chapel early in his first week was in the same place as she''d been every meal time since, as far away from others as she could be.


    At the moment, he saw, she was reading. Her hair kept slipping into her eyes, and she kept pushing it back absent-mindedly, as she slowly chewed on her vegetable stew as though she had all the time in the world. Previous days she hadn''t been reading, she''d just finished her meal as quickly as she could and left. But there weren''t nearly as many people here today, he noticed. Tentatively, he played with reasons those might be linked and the idea that he might just possibly put his old grief aside and go and talk to her today. He''d seen her earlier in the day talking to one of the engineers in the hanger. She was, plainly, connected somehow to the bubble research group, she didn''t seem to be spending her meals with anyone, and nor was he. Perhaps those two things could change at the same time. He decided it was time for action. He desperately wanted to talk to someone not connected to the band or a fan in any way. He picked up his tray.


    “Hello, are you just really in love with the view from here or do you just dislike crowds too?”


    “I enjoy my own company,” she replied, eyeing him suspiciously.


    “I imagine that if my little sister were in this room, she''d be sitting here, and running off when the room got crowded.”


    “So you decided you''d come and interrupt my book?” she asked.


    “I''m told impulsive risk taker is in my genetics. May I sit here?”


    “I''m sure there''s no law against either of those things. Unlike some things in my genetics, like a tendency to respond to annoyances with sharp metal.”


    “Was that a warning not to eat with my mouth open?” Humph asked.


    “I would like to finish my book uninterrupted,” she said.


    “I appoint myself your protector against unwelcome interruptions. I''m Humph.”


    “That''s not a name, its an expression of dissatisfaction with the status quo.”


    “The status quo I''m dissatisfied with is I don''t know many people here. Humphrey Tune-crafter bn Hathella Peacetalker hi Ben Farspeaker.”


    “Samantha bnt Lara Marsspeaker hi Timothy Shipbuilder. Our mothers know one another, I think.”


    “Mother''s even mentioned you, I think. You''re a pilot?”


    “Yes.”


    Pushing aside the dozen questions that sprung to his mind he said “Enjoy your book, Samantha Lara Timothy. I will try to not annoy you with more questions until you''ve finished it.”


    “You plan to just sit there and watch me read?”


    “I don''t want to annoy a descendent of Lara Knifetongue, or a pilot, so I certainly don''t want to annoy you.”


    “You''re with that band, aren''t you? Sun-Drive?”


    “Spoken like a true non-fan, wonderful. Yes, I''m in the band, I play keyboard and write music to Sheena''s words, don''t feel you need to stay with the topic unless you''re really interested in it. I never expected we''d end up semi-famous, and it''s a pain.”


    “A pain?” she asked intrigued.


    “I much preferred it when it was just a hobby and we had a life outside it. I think all of us do in different ways. Our manager doesn''t really like a lot of the songs we''ve been writing recently, with titles such as ''Worship God, don''t worship us,'' and ''Don''t expect we''ll do this forever.'' It impacts his earnings potential, or something. Making this video was our idea, as a message to the fans that we have things we like doing outside the band. He won''t like some of the things its going to have in it either, like us asking one another what we''re going to do when we grow up and get a real job. If he cuts too much from it then we''re going to have to start threatening to hire lawyers over him interfering with our creative expression or something.”


    “You''re planning to break up the band?”


    “No. But we all want it to be a thing we do, not who we are, what we think about all the time, what we talk about all the time. Etcetera. So can we talk about something else? Bubbleships for instance? Or encounters with alien people?”


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    “I''m on research flights, so I''ve not met any aliens yet, just killer octopuses and the like.”


    “Is ''killer octopuses'' a generic term, or did you really meet some?”


    “Not quite octopuses, since they had seven motion tentacles and an eighth that was a heavily armoured scary sharp weapon.”


    “Did you find out if it was for self-defence, or predatory?” Humph asked.


    “It seemed to be mainly for mating.”


    “You''re joking! Tell me more?” Humph asked, fascinated.


    “Boy killer octopus meets girl killer octopus, boy and girl get into a battle. Boy and girl cut each other''s tentacles off and eat them. Assuming boy and girl aim properly and don''t actually kill one another, and the boy ends up with at least one tentacle when girl octopus is immobile, then they mate and he defends her - to the death if necessary — until she''s laid his eggs. She''s regrown a few tentacles while the eggs were growing, but they seem to secrete some kind of hormone that stops them from moving. Once she''s laid the eggs, then he chases her off until the eggs are hatched or she tries to eat them. If she wins - that''s to stay he ends up legless — the battle then she eats him, and she becomes an even harder target, and apparently a more attractive mate, and she goes flirting.”


    “What happens if he dies defending her?”


    “Then his killer — another male, normally — chops her legs off, eats them and her eggs too.”


    “And then rapes her?”


    “I argued that you can''t call it rape. The paralysis is only of her mobility tentacles, her killer claw is still there, and when other predators come close she can easily see them off, even without the male around. And if she accidentally kills a lover during the battle then she doesn''t go flirting, she seems to enter a mourning state as if all the fun''s gone out of life. It was pretty unusual for a male be unable to defend his female, too, because they get super-charged on her tentacles. We weren''t there long enough to decide if they all paired for life, but it rather looked like it. Once the eggs are hatched then maternal instinct seems to kick in.”


    “Wow! So the mating-battle is all about testing whether he''s a fit protector, and offering tentacles to the other to increase strength for egg-laying and egg-defending?”


    “Yes.”


    “How similar are they to Earth cephalopods?”


    “Genetically not at all, physiologically, pretty close.”


    “I''d love to hear your opinion on some of the Planet Five sea creatures from the archive. There might be similarities but no one really looked at them in detail.”


    “Planet Five?”


    “Evnela''s home.” He indicated the poster-sized picture on the canteen wall. “Fifth planet found with intelligent life. I''m a descendent of the contact team.”


    “You''re not claiming that''s a real picture, are you?” Samantha asked.


    “I can''t confirm the pizza. It looks a bit fake to me. But Evnela was real enough. Baroness of Vansk on the Island of Captita, blown out to sea in a killer storm and rescued by the contact team as she was adrift in the open ocean where they were following a pod of sea monsters.”


    “Green people?”


    “Why should plants have all the chloroplasts? They have different genetics and microbiology, and ridiculously similar macroscopic biology. Compatible digestive systems, no cross-species pathogens. Food is not toxic either way. Pleasant surface conditions and scary sea monsters in the polar currents off the northern coast of the continent.”


    “If this is a wind-up then its one of the most complex I''ve heard of,” Samantha said.


    “Feel free to look it up in the institute archive. I grew up hearing about the place — there''s this sort of prayer-group keeping the memory alive that our parents are in — the band, I mean. We''d all love to visit it if it ever gets off the banned list.”


    “It''s been left to develop? How are they doing?”


    “They had spark-gaps ninety-five years ago. No other news since.”


    “Why not?”


    “According to the director,” Humph said, “someone changed the classification system, and ''quarantined'' no longer meant ''leave them alone for a bit, but keep an eye on them.''”


    “It certainly doesn''t. Not now, anyway.”


    “So, we''re hoping to convince a pilot to go pick up any data from the A.I. observation probe so we can get various parents etcetera to apply pressure and convince the director that it''s OK to say ''Hi, how''s it going? Please don''t offer us your virgin daughters.''”


    “There''s a problem with virgin daughters?”


    “There used to be a humongous problem with them. Sons too, but more rarely. See contact reports for evidence.”


    “You''re trying to intrigue me, aren''t you?”


    “Am I succeeding? And are you a Christian?”


    “Ah.” Samantha said. “I was right about what''s on the mind of strange males coming to engage me in a conversation. Once I say yes, the next question will be to ask what I would think of walking with you, wouldn''t it?”


    “And the answer would be no?” Humph asked.


    “The answer would probably depend what you would think about a knife waving in your left nostril.”


    “I''d think it was a good motive to move very very cautiously,” Humph said, “so that no one gets hurt or in trouble.”


    “Good answer. Mars is full of risk takers, you see.”


    “I''d heard. I guess it must be easy to get hurt if you''re not careful,”


    “Especially when there''s a knife in your nostril,” Samantha agreed, her hand still on her knife.


    “Samantha Lara Timothy, I apologise for taking risks and making assumptions about you. Thank you for telling me about the killer octopuses. Will you please allow me the opportunity to have other interesting discussions with you for no other reason than I love learning about odd creatures in God''s creation and I think you must do too.”


    “I''ll think about it,” Samantha said. “But you were right. I have the pain, so you''ll never find me willingly in a crowd.”


    “And you are reluctant to admit it because many men think that you therefore are desperate for a protector?”


    “Hmm. You might be right about that.”


    “And they don''t know that protection can come from any trusted thought-hearing friend or family member, not just lovers.”


    “Maybe I don''t have any trusted friends, then.”


    “It needs practice. Can I introduce you to my cousin Sheena? She learned how to protect Hathie from the pain.”


    “Your sister''s still on Earth?” Samantha asked.


    “Following in her proud big brother''s footsteps and studying Marine Biology.”


    “And is she getting better marks than you?”


    “Roughly the same, actually. She''s getting the highest marks in her year, anyway.”


    “I need to be more careful, don''t I? Giving you opportunities like that to boast?”


    “Oh, I was only joint-top, she''s doing better in that respect.”


    “Who were you joint with?”


    “A landfolk girl called Tabitha. We walked together for a long time, but it was a bit on-and-off, then she said it was off, permanently. I was sort of hoping she''d change her mind again, but then she was in an accident. She was hit by a propeller, scuba-diving. She died about a year ago, after a long time in coma.”


    “Sorry.”


    “She loved the sea, but only the Earth''s sea interested her. Whenever I talked about maybe joining the bubble programme she tried to argue me out of it.”


    “I thought you were just here for the videos?”


    “And the director thinks he talked us into joining up, too. So does our manager. The tourist trips seemed like a great opportunity to get involved without our manager trying to sue us. Please don''t let him know that we''d all been thinking of coming this way anyway. He thinks we''re going to be full-time releasing new songs and videos for at least a year after this, because that''s his plan for us. He''s not really a shark, just... a bit single minded in his pushing us towards being megastars. As Sheena says, we don''t want to be megastars, normal run of the mill main-sequence types survive a lot longer.” He grinned, “all his music industry astronomy-based metaphors really fall flat with Sheena turning them into dire consequences of us imploding or breaking up. I expect she''d love to turn your killer-octopus account into a song. Is it all published?”


    “In my PhD, at least.” Samantha said, warily. “It''s on the Research Group''s site.”


    “You''ll get full credit for inspiration.”


    “Will I want full credit?”


    “Just a guess, but I''m thinking she might turn it into a love song, ''You don''t need to cut me up to make me yours, I won''t eat you, don''t eat me, don''t be a killer octopus.'' The fans — some of them anyway — love tracking down what inspires the songs and reading up on them.”


    “Urm, OK.”


    “And of course with the credit or without if you prefer, you get some a share of the income if the song covers its costs. We don''t want to be parasites.”


    “And the B.R.G?”


    “Gets a share too. It''s all in the collaboration contract, in Mer, for precision.”


    “It occurs to me we could be speaking Mer, couldn''t we?” Samantha said.


    “Humphrey Hathella Ben is entirely fluent in Mer, English and speaks some Tungan and Windwardese, those last two being languages of Planet 5. Humph Kray, composer for the band Sun-drive, is from the Restored Kingdom, has a degree in Marine Biology and mainly speaks English. That both of them are me is a bit of a secret. As is the fact that I''m a truthsayer.”


    “You''re being very open about things that are secrets.”


    “I don''t think anyone is listening except you.”


    “And you don''t mind me knowing, not knowing if I''m a part-time gossip or something.”


    “Part time gossips don''t get to fly bubble ships.”


    “Maybe I lied about that,” Samantha said.


    “Maybe I''ll risk you lied about your knife as well, then.”


    “Would you like to find out for sure that I didn''t?” she threatened.


    “I prefer to simply trust you. If you''d prefer distance then let''s stick with English. When you feel you''re ready to trust me to get a bit closer, feel free to switch to Mer.”


    “And that''s your version of being careful, is it?” Samantha asked in English.


    “If I wasn''t prepared to take a few risks, I''d have stayed where I''ve been sitting for the past two weeks, and not found out anything about killer octopuses or the beautiful woman sitting alone here every meal. But before I leave you to finish your book, may I introduce you to Sheena?”


    “No. Because you''re going to find me contact reports that prove that girl''s a real picture, and show me your sea monsters.”


    <hr>


    </a>The tower room, Mer embassy, Mars, lunchtime.


    “Yes, Samantha?” her mother, Lara Mars-speaker, asked.


    “I''ve got a new trip planned, mother,” Samantha reported.


    “Really? I thought it wasn''t the end of the training course yet.”


    “It''s not, there''s another four weeks for it to go. But I''m going to a quick visit to a few not-recently visited places, back in three weeks. The data I''ll gather might help the director make some funding requests and things like that. And also it''ll give me some time to write up some more thoughts I''ve had on the killer octopuses. And um, think about some other developments.”


    “What does ''other developments'' mean?”


    “Humphrey Hathella Ben. I''ve been talking to him about different things in the last couple of days and he seems quite a nice person. He''s hopeful that I''ll walk with him.”


    “Which is why you''re running away from him?” her mother asked, confused.


    “Which is why I''m finding out if his dream of re-establishing contact with a particular fallow planet is likely in his lifetime. No one''s checked up on it in almost a hundred years. If it looks probable then he''s really likely to join the Bubble Research Group long term, rather than just for this sun-trip. In which case decisions get a lot easier.”


    “Who will you take as co-pilot?”


    “Bonnie wants some time to work on a paper too,” Samantha said. Bonnie had been her co-pilot when she''d worked on the octopus research.


    “And you''re not doing any research, just picking up some data?”


    “Oh, I''m sure there are some astronomy readings someone wants taken, but we always get those.”


    “And are you going to explain to Humphry why you''re going?”


    “I''m going to tell him I expect to be able to tell him yes or no when we''re back, assuming he''s still interested.”


    “You don''t think you ought to say a tentative yes now, just in case some Martian risk taker with long eyelashes comes along?”


    “I was thinking of inviting him to dinner tonight, is that OK? I''ll cook.”


    “Of course, dear. You''ll cook for everyone, or just the two of you?"


    “Everyone. Departure stew, if that''s OK?”


    “You leave tomorrow?”


    “Yes.”


    “Of course you can cook departure stew.”


    <hr>


    </a>Bubble Research Group, student lounge.


    “Sheena, have you seen Humph?” Samantha asked.


    “''Back in five minutes'', he said. That was about half an hour ago, so I guess he''s got distracted somewhere.”


    “Bother. And he''s not on the net, is he? Can you give him a message? I need to go home and start cooking.”


    “Sure. What''s the message?”


    “I''m going on a tour of the star formation region Planet Five is in. There''s a whole load of ''last-heard from five-plus decades ago'' planets there, and the director feels that''s a bad situation. Departure is tomorrow and I''d hoped to invite him to the embassy for dinner tonight.”


    Sheena took in the way that Samantha was not in her normal overalls, but was wearing a rather pretty dress. “As in dinner for two?”


    “Dinner for about twenty, hence I can''t hang around, but maybe a table for two. I wanted to pick his brains a bit and give him something to think about while I''m gone.”


    “Have you tried the library?”


    “That''s where I tried first.”


    “His room?”


    “If he''s there, he''s not answering the intercom.”


    “The thing is... if he''s forgotten he was working on stuff here then the next place I''ll see him is the dining hall, and maybe even not ''till breakfast. Would you like to declare this an emergency? If it''s an emergency then I can call his dad.”


    “I don''t think ''emergency'' is quite the right word. It''s going to be very frustrating if I don''t get to talk to him before I go.”


    “Let alone dinner?”


    “Yeah, dinner would be a bit annoying too. But don''t call his dad, I''ve got my own numbers I can call, after all, without the distance-related delay. Hmm, actually, maybe that''s where he is: he said something about not having checked in with the association yet. ''scuse me, I''ll make a call.” She tapped a number on her wrist unit. “Hi, Samantha from the BRG here. Yes, that''s right, lift-off is about nine A.M., God-willing. I don''t suppose Humph has turned up there has he? Yes, him. Excellent, can you put him on? Humph, Sheena says you''re due back in the student lounge twenty-five minutes ago, but actually you''re due at the embassy in an hour and a half and if you don''t show up then you''re going to regret it for a couple of weeks, because I''ll ask Sheena to tell you nothing while I''m gone. She''s grinning her agreement. No, I''m going to tell you that in person at the embassy. Dinner is included in the invitation, yes, and if you bring something suitable you might get to prove you can swim too. No not just with me, don''t be ridiculous, there''s about twenty mouths to feed at the embassy at the moment, and I''m cooking for all of them today. If you''re suitably behaved you might get to sit at the same table as me and escape the washing up. Thanks for offering, but there''s no need. It''s going to be what I call departure stew, which is quick to prepare, because who has loads of time to cook when they''re packing? Eighty seven minutes, yes. Oh you will, will you? OK. Bye!”


    “He''s going to set a reminder?” Sheena guessed.


    “Yes, two, apparently.”


    “Consider yourself privileged. Normally he only sets one. And there''s a pool at the embassy?”


    “Underground, from the days when going outside without a breather meant you were a few breaths from suffocating. The whole class will get an invitation to the embassy when you graduate, but I''ll try to get mum and dad to invite you while I''m gone. But you might want to talk that through: my brother''s an active fan apparently; Humph was saying that he''s trying to stay two people in people''s minds. Is it the same for you?”


    “Public Sheena isn''t the same as private me, no. Did Humph say your mums know each other?”


    “Yes. She''s visited several times, I don''t think Humph ever did. Urm, did I cause problems giving his name to mum?”


    “Given the family connection, there''s no option, really. I just hope your brother doesn''t recognise him and decide to play journalist.”


    “I''ll remind him of a sister''s absolute right to privacy, don''t worry. I''m just thinking that if you go as the band, then that''ll mean the cameras go too, won''t it? At which point the local fans would love to join in.”


    “Probably, yeah. Actually... could your brother get us the invitation? Then the band could go in awestruck-wonder, etc.”


    “I''ll pass on the idea to him, if you don''t mind?”


    “Does he know we''re here?” Sheena asked.


    “Rumours he''s asked me to confirm, I quoted privacy to him, saying if I knew that I couldn''t confirm it.”


    “OK, well tell him I''ve said he can know I''m here, I understand the embassy has a long history of being involved in the project, and wouldn''t mind an invitation for myself, three guys I know, and a camera crew who are following us around.”


    “You''re good at this! Consider it done, and me gone.”


    “Have a great evening, and a safe trip if I don''t see you tomorrow.”


    “Thanks, Sheena.”