After tying the skiff to a docking post, he prepared himself to come across as competent and unobtrusive. They’d hired him to serve as their new educator, but really, he was here to covertly work on his projects. Just until he had a breakthrough. Then he’d pay the credits to dissolve his IA contract and go back to Teös triumphant with no further doubt about his merit status.
Two males were waiting for him when he got inside: the kyrot he’d met upon his arrival with his massive wingspan and dark fur and a surly, scaly latil’e. Both species he’d never encountered before leaving Teös.
“I have never seen a person made of stone before.” The latil’e peered at him with suspicion, tail curling up toward his spine.
“Crystal, actually. We have a silicate crystalline structure for our bodies.” Örim shifted the placement of his eyestones to try and see them both more clearly. The room was filled with bright artificial light, which was a struggle for his dark-adjusted eyes.
“Now, is that any way to greet our new educator? This is Örim ö’ Alae. Hope I’m saying it right. He’s teösian. I’m Pyo. We’ve met. And this grouchy male is S’samph. He’s our head of security.”
S’samph’s neck frill rippled. “You will be responsible for our younglings. It is an important role.”
“I’m a level two educator. I’m licensed to teach all levels of Alliance curriculum up to the first year of higher education.” Örim wasn’t sure why his qualifications were being called into question. He had already undergone an extensive IA screening. He had no criminal record. His exam scores were flawless.
“But you are a bioengineer.” The latil’e placed a hand flat on the worktable. “Why is a bioengineer from a non-consortium planet here in Laurus as an educator?”
“We were lucky to get any applicants, S’samph. I would encourage you not to scare him off.” The kyrot male’s wingtips came together over his shoulder blades. Örim was also starting to feel the weight of anxiety which made him rub absently at his wrist nodes. He didn’t have anything to hide. Not anything a security chief would care about anyway.
“I am doing my job, Pyo.”
“It’s a valid question.” Örim tried to keep his tone level. “I lost my position at the research institute on Teös, so I decided it was time to leave. I am not permitted to employ my skills as a bioengineer off planet, but my educator’s license is universally recognized. I needed a job. Laurus had a job.”
S’samph’s frill lowered. “I find this answer acceptable.”
“Don’t let him scare you off. He means well, he’s just, well he’s just latil’e.”
Örim tapped his elbow affirmatively as if he had any sense of what it meant to be a latil’e. He had never even met a latil’e until he’d gone through the IA intake. Although he was active on intelewave forums and had knowledge of their planet’s collapse, it was very different to meet another species in person.
“I will do my best to teach your younglings.”
“And that’s all we’re asking for. Keep them in line. Teach them a thing or two. You’ll fit in just fine here. We’re a friendlybunch for the most part. Now, do you have any questions for us?” Pyo rubbed his snout with the back of one of his clawed hands.
“Nothing I can think of in this moment. Can I have some time to compile a list?”
“Uh, sure, why not? Come by any time if you have questions. I’m usually here, and S’samph is around the town or sometimes in his office.”
“Do not come into my office unless it is important. That is where I work. Sometimes my mate visits, and I do not wish for her to be disturbed.”
“I see.” Örim did not see. He realized there was much more to the social dynamics of a small town with different species cohabitating than there was on a planet with only one dominant lifeform and culture. On Teös he knew how to maneuver, or he thought he did.
CHAPTER 3
Cassie
You see this door?Kestrel signed to Cassie.It’s off limits. This is where the Aviarist works, and we must never disturb him without an invitation.
“But what if I have something to say to him? What if I have a question?” Cassie asked.
Ask me instead. I’m your flock leader. That’s what I’m here for.Kestrel tugged Cassie’s small hand away from the door. She followed Kestrel back to the creche, where she’d spend another week before joining the passeri in the Aviary.
Alone in the room above the clinic for several days as the last of the rain poured down outside, Cassie formed a plan. The healer, Eleri, had offered to find someone to teach her to read Universal. It was the key to accessing the intelewaves and locating her fellow passeri.
“Hey, Cassie?” There was a quiet knock on the door to her room. It felt strange being alone in a sleeping room without the routine sounds of passeri around her. She got off the hard, thin mattress and tiptoed over to the door. Her hands trembled slightly as she went to wrap her fingers around the doorknob. It was obviously Eleri, but she had to be certain. In her experience, nothing good ever appeared from behind a closed door. Cassie took a quick glance through the view hole. As she suspected, Eleri’s familiar pale hair was visible.
“How can I help you today?” she asked with false sincerity. She really just wanted to be left alone. Even though the healer had been nothing but kind and accommodating, Cassie felt adrift and frustrated in her new environment. At least, back in the Aviary, everything had made sense.
The month and a half they had spent in the IA resettlement program had focused mostly on helping the younglings reacclimate. It made sense. There were more of them. They needed to learn what was expected when they went to live with a family. Cassie and the other adults were an afterthought. The IA was used to managing refugees from planetary crises. War, violence, poverty. They had no idea what to do with a handful of legal adults who lacked literacy skills and had spent most of their lives on hormone blockers. The younglings were resettled with families. The adults were given the illusion of choice. Only a handful of colonies would accept unskilled, uneducated bodies.
Some of them had taken to gardening and designing clothing, but Cassie had never found interest in any of those things. Despite the imaginary hobbies the Aviarist encoded into her voicelock, Cassie’s only pastime had ever been taking care of the little ones. She bandaged their scraped knees and told them stories before sleeping. And she’d loved it. Taking care of the fledglings had always filled her with a fierce sense of pride. But the IA hadn’t decided to keep them together.
