51: Glittergem

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The first group from Glittergem that they run into are fully expecting them, meaning that they must not have seen whoever initially spotted them and told the hive. It’s a group of three men, all looking very concerned and confused at the lack of an adult escort.

“So the wingsong stream isn’t up again yet?” Tyk asks after everyone does all the formal greetings and soforth and she’s swarmed by concerned strangers fussing over every minor injury and wing-cooing at Ketyk.

“Not yet, but it’s stable enough that we can model its recovery,” the oldest of the men, Kemal, says. “We expect it to be partially stable within ten or twenty days and fully stable by the end of the wet season. We were beginning to wonder whether any star caravan had gotten over the river before it became impossible.”

“None did, at least not via Green Hills,” Tyk says. “Just us. There were… political complications.”

“Well, you can explain them when you’re all safe and fed,” he says firmly. “Some women will be here soon to help with your… cart?… and then we can all get in the same tunnel about what exactly is happening.”

Ketyk tries to hide from the strange men behind Tyk’s horn, which just makes them coo more at the poor child born out in the scary wilderness who needs to be made to feel safe. Tyk’s own calm seems to give him courage, but not enough to leave her horns.

“Are there any other sky people in your hive?” Smon asks, only for all three men to flick their wings in a negative gesture.

“You’re the only one who’s come this far,” Kemal says.

“Right, but what about any who landed on this side of the river? Were any picked up by other hives up here?”

“Not this far North. Some landed on this side of the river far South, down below the sleeplands, but to get here they’ll have to cross the river twice to avoid the sleeplands and move along the trade routes, or take the long way around the West coast. I think the Green Hills Hive is as far North as your eggs landed.”

Obviously false, Tyk thinks; the neima are further North than the Green Hills Hive. But Smon doesn’t correct him. Instead, she just looks North, thoughtfully. “How far are we from the Northern coast?”

“Very close. It’s a half-day’s walk from our hive for a woman. Why?”

“My hivemates in Green Hills Hive mapped this. There are definitely sky boats that would have fallen much further North.”

“Then they have drowned. I am sorry.”

Smon doesn’t correct this either. She frowns at the mountains ahead, clearly deep in thought.

Two women arrive a little while later to take over pulling the farm, but this doesn’t entirely free Smon and Tyk from their duties; they’re kept busy keeping an eye on it from the sides and doing what they can to compensate for its little idiosyncracies that they’ve had a long journey to get used to. Carts designed for the trade routes have wheels a uniform distance apart so that they fit neatly into established wheel ruts and don’t risk breaking the wheels. Smon’s farm, originally built to ride on a cart, isn’t as wide as a normal trade cart. This means that for the wheels to sit the correct distance apart, the weight of the farm sits somewhat oddly and doesn’t move like a well-stacked trade cart, no matter how tightly they tie things down. Neither Tyk nor Smon are particularly experienced cart-pullers and didn’t really notice the differences when dragging the farm through mud and on old tracks; their helpers, sent because they’re experienced with carts, are having a difficult time adjusting. The pace of the journey is slow and uncertain, and not helped by the fact that all five of their escorts are burning with curiosity and distracted by the endless questions they want to ask. Tyk answers everything accurately, seeing no reason to lie, except for taking care not to mention Sakeya and Kekeya; Smon, too, is honest, but her answers are brief and vague, partly because she’s clearly distracted by her own thoughts but mostly because she lacks the vocabulary to answer a lot of the detailed questions being asked about her people and her culture. She has to start by explaining that she’s not a star and telling the story of the journey from her Earth, and Tyk wonders what it says about their journey that the resultant freakout where their guides question the entire cosmology (they especially do not like hearing the part about their Earth being a satellite star) feels like a humdrum experience that she’s been through one too many times already. Even Smon, despite the importance of being accepted by these people and securing their help, seems distracted, staring at the rapidly approaching mountains.

The Glittergem Hive itself is like nothing that Tyk has ever seen. It’s mid afternoon as they approach, and the entrance, built into the steep side of a mountain, shines and glimmers in the sunlight from a long way away. As they get close, it becomes obvious why — the whole entrance is decorated not just by elaborate sculpture, but thickly encrusted in gems.

Hive entrances generally have some gems, of course. The Redstone River Hive has elaborate maps, more symbolic than accurate, of stars and stories dotted through its entrance hall in gems lit by nearby glowing pools to sparkle in the darkness. But the Glittergem entrance is so covered in gemstones of every size and colour that there’s barely room for sculture or carving between them, and they spill outwards to ring the entrance itself, a beacon shining in any direct light. As they approach the hive, the handful of Glittergem residents outside all respectfully stand back (Tyk supposes that they’ll be greeted by the Hiveheart in the entrance hall, have a real show made of it) and they’re steered directly inside. Smon’s eyes are on the walls the whole time, flicking from gem to gem; as they walk into the darkening tunnel, she powers up her magic light stone, provoking immediate shock and awe from everybody in the vicinity, even the escorts who already know she isn’t a god.

Tyk remembers the fascination with which Smon originally examined the walls of the Redstone River entrance, her questions about where the gems had come from. That had been before Tyk had known that Smon was a rock lorekeeper. Here, there are more gems, including kinds that Tyk has never seen, and Smon examines them with deep focus. Tyk wonders what information she is divining from them.

Two of the men in their escort rush on ahead down the tunnel, but the rest are happy to move at Smon’s pace long after Tyk thinks she would’ve gotten bored. Tyk herself is distracted managing Ketyk, who is both intimidated by the number of people and as fascinated by the walls as Smon is, and Tyk realises that this is the first time he’s really seen inside a hive, the dreary entrance co-opted by the neima notwithstanding. It’s also the first time he’s seen a gemstone that wasn’t cemented to a woman’s carapace, and Tyk, hiding her amusement, answers his questions as best she can with his limited language skills and explains that the gems are not a natural part of a woman’s body, and nor are the carvings on Sakeya or the women around them.

Despite their slow progress and the novelty of Smon, the people of Glittergem ae doing a good job of giving their tiny group space, and their escorts only have to push back a couple of excitable young girls with a lot of questions. Nevertheless, Tyk is fully aware of the weight of the stares on them. Mostly on Smon, of course, but it’s clear that she and Ketyk are a puzzle in themselves; the whole hive must be wondering why this young star is escorted only by an adolescent girl and her practically newborn truebrother. Maybe, if she’s lucky, their escort will spread the story before she has to tell it again herself.

But that’s just wishful thinking, of course. At the very least, the Hiveheart will want to hear from her and Smon directly.

As the entrance tunnel opens up into the entrance hall, it’s obvious to Tyk that the Glittergem Hive is different from Redstone River and Green Hills. While fired mortar is used to smooth and shore the walls where necessary, it’s far from the main construction material – Glittergem Hive is carved from the stone of the mountain, all flat glossy black marbled with patches of smoothed-down grey. Smon’s eyes light up at the sight; Tyk can see that the flat walls are of far more interest to her than the decorative gems, but while their escort are patient with her pace, they are leading the group to a destination, and Smon can’t get close enough to the far walls to really inspect them.

The Glittergem entrance hall is smaller than the Redstone River one, only high enough to support two levels of tunnels rather than being a massive dome. Tyk figures that it’s probably a lot harder to dig a dome out of rock than to build one, and the weight of the mountain above them probably imposes its own limitations too, just like how deep tunnels can only be so wide. To Tyk, accustomed to big dome entrance halls and having spent most of her time outside recently, it feels strangely cramped, despite still being far, far larger than the deep harvesting and farming tunnels that she’s never had a problem with.

They’re lead clear across the entrance hall through an elaborately decorated door into a strangely plain room. The heart of Glittergem has no ornamentation, beyond a large glow pool in the middle of the floor for lighting; even the stations and perches for the Hiveheart are plain. The Hiveheart themselves are waiting, eight men and eight women, and fix their eyes on Smon, Tyk and Ketyk as they enter.

Well-practised at this by now, Smon exchanges formal greetings with them in San’s voice. Tyk exchanges her own formal greetings, Ketyk tries to hide behind one of her horns, and they get to business.

Mal, an old woman with the most intricately carved shell that Tyk has ever seen, looks down at them. “My truebrother tells me that you are a traveller from another Earth,” she says.

“That is correct.”

“Tell us about that.”

So Smon does. She explains for what feels to Tyk like the hundredth time how her people used their magic to look for other Earths, then build giant star-boats to travel to the most liveable ones and build new hives, putting most of the travellers into a deep hibernation fro the journey. How, then their str boat had approached their new home, the steering and brakes had broken, so they could not land; how, in desperation, the sailors had searched for another Earth, any Earth that would support them, far enough away that they could steer towards it and slow down in time to land. How they had found this world, and started to wake up the travellers who they thought would have the best chance of building a successful hive there.

How they planned to land together, but had misjudged the landing; despite the star boat’s best efforts, they couldn’t quite slow down enough, and the colonists in the landing boats ended up scattered across the surface of the world from a boat that had no choice but to sail on to the stars, those still aboard doomed to never touch the ground again and eventually perish when the ship finally sank in the sky.

“And now,” she says, “those of us who were given this chance to live must band together to build our hive.”

“We expected to be helping you get back into the sky. From what you say, this is neither possible nor desired?”

“Correct.”

“And yet, you’ve still come here. You’re still heading for the Starspire?”

“It doesn’t have to be the Starspire specifically, but yes. This mountain range is critical. According to some of my hivemates, this is an ideal spot from which to coordinate with the other survivors. And for that, my honoured friends… for that, we need your help.”

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