My Last Post -- for now

By the time you read this, I'll probably be hopping gâ'axao stations (in suspended animation, of course) on my way to Earth, if I'm not there already. We've been having connection problems somewhere in the line, so I typed this up and asked that it be sent as soon as possible.

Anyway, I can't be long at this, so I'll just explain briefly. They're going to be suppressing my memory -- putting some false memories in. As far as anyone on Earth is concerned, I took a very long vacation around the world. And even if I do manage to regain memory, if the Xala decide not to start any serious trade relations with any nation on Earth, they've made sure there's nothing to prove they were ever there. "No verifiable evidence", they call it -- which I presume is their version of plausible denial.

Anyway, I'm sorry I couldn't do more. They tell me that they'll put a yela'kaja on to give some updates and such on whatever news there is. As for me, I'm just going to return to Earth, recuperate from all that crazy food and all the planet-hopping, and be a normal human being again -- at least until they decide to bring me back (if they do).

The Things You Can Learn from an Old Yela'kaja

Still stuck in a hospital. Such a pain this all is. I actually feel perfectly fine, but the Tzállö are keeping me in here for another day because of some test result or other. The yela'kaja apparently can't understand Tzállö medicalese nor translate it into English equivalents, so I really have no idea what the problem is.

However, when all you have to talk to is a yela'kaja who was basically ordered specifically to accompany you as a translator, you can learn things. We had a conversation recently -- not about the Tzállö or about their terrible dark planet -- but about yela'kaja, and about Xala in general.

Here's how it started: for some reason the yela'kaja here has nothing better to do than just sit here and keep me company. Now, on the other planets, my yela'kaja were always busy with something or other when I didn't specifically need them to guide me around or act as a translator. Most of the time they would have their own little screen handy and I'd see wierd characters all over it. But this one didn't, so I asked about it.

Me: Do you actually have nothing to do?

Yela'kaja: I am doing my job, looking after you and acting as a translator. That is what I was assigned to do.

Me: Yeah, but every other yela'kaja I've met always had something else to do when I didn't have a specific question or something. Come to think of it, every Xala I've met always looks extremely busy.

Yela'kaja: Well, that was on Jed and Kesata, both planets with lots of Xala everywhere.

Me: I don't understand.

Yela'kaja: Ah, of course. You're an alien -- and a new one at that ...

At that point, he informed me that, by volunteering to work on integrating worlds (his word), the worlds that were still being slowly incorporated into the Trade network, he was pretty much able to work at his own pace -- despite that he had to be moved around quite a bit due to some strange rotational scheme. "The Xala like to run things slowly on these worlds -- too much progress can mean collapse of governments, anti-Xala sentiments, and hostilities if allowed to form could mean war whether the Xala attempt to stay or simply pull out.

Anyway, on with the conversation:

Me: So, you have the lazy guy's job, right?

Yela'kaja: Right now, yes, dealing with you is the easiest job I've had as far as I can remember at the moment. Of course, what I was doing before was giving me some trouble. I was working with a race that I believe you know a little bit about, the Ŋasux [he said that as "NGHAH-sookh"]. You might know them as the Ŋãna

Me: Oh, yeah. So, they pulled you off negotiations with them to deal with me.

Yela'kaja: You might say I had to in order to keep the development of relations from dissolving

He didn't elaborate any more on that. I got the idea that I wasn't to know the details, so we went off on another set of questions regarding the difficulty of his work, and what all the yela'kaja do, when he comes out with this:

Yela'kaja are really among the shortest lived out of all Xala.

I did a double take on that, but he clarified it. Apparently its not the stresses of the job itself, but the sheer physical stress of the transformations -- especially if a given yela'kaja has to transform more than once in it's lifetime. Most Xala will live for well over 200 years, many nearly 300 -- but yela'kaja often only live to around 130, maybe 150 if they're lucky, and more like 90-110 if they're not so lucky. The only caste with a shorter lifespan?

That would be what you call "nurses" -- the roa'gogo. The stresses of laying so many eggs can shorten their lives to less than 80 of your years.

Now, granted, the baseline Xala lifespan is very long compared to us -- but it still must seem crazy to cut your life so short just so the Xala can have a little better communication with an alien race, or not:

The Xala do not wait for natural, physical death, as you and many of the cultures in the trade network do. A Xala is dead when he can no longer serve Jed Êdag and the race as a whole. I have lived for over sixty-four cycles, putting me at around 115 years old in your system -- and I'm already showing my age. This is probably my last transformation, and if I can't be made useful after you leave Lazga, I will be declared tyexala -- a dead being -- and will commit suicide. I think I'll do it right here, by poisonous fungus if I can find some -- I can't do the tyogex tyeg ko' without wings, and the tyogex caxol just won't do -- to painful and too much trouble getting someone to stick me with a poison spur.

Yes, that's all exact. I basically set up my machine to record that directly as it went into my ears and I understood it. I would post more, but this is getting very long, and the Tzállö doctors are coming in to do some more tests. I'll try to get more down on those death rites or whatever they are if I can stomach it. Of course, that's assuming the Tzállö don't kill me with all these tests.

Stuck in a Tzállö Hospital

Well, I'm feeling better, but once again the Tzállö have me quarantined and "under observation". they won't even clear me to get to the gâ'akaxaoda station. Anyway, I'm stuck here in this hospital sort of place. Of course, a Tzállö hospital is an entirely different experience from an Earth hospital. Obviously, there are no lights except for the ones that were put in my room for my benefit and my headlamp (which still has't drained its batteries! Quite impressive!) And rather than white, most of the walls are dull gray plastic, with very smooth black linoleum. Everything is very cool and smooth with a lot of metallic-looking textures, which I suspect conveys the same concept of sterility for Tzállö that stark white conveys for humans. The doctors wear very smooth clothing that almost looks like latex rather than fabric.

Anyway, I have a private room, as always, though it's smaller than hospital rooms I've seen on Earth. There's also nothing here for entertainment -- no window, no TV -- not even the Tzállö equivalents. The yela'kaja tells me that Tzállö usually entertain themselves in hospitals by reading, though obviously I couldn't read anything in their library -- It'd just be a bunch of raised squares to me. So, I'm stuck talking to the yela'kaja and surfing the Internet through this magical little device. Wish me well! I just hope I can get off this weird dark planet sometime soon.

Don't Eat the Black Sauce

Ah, I haven't been able to post for, what, a week or so? Why is that? Well, first of all, there's some sort of weird interference down in these tunnels that makes it difficult to get my Xala typing machine-thingy to work. Then, of course, you have the fact that I can't activate it around a Tzállö without drawing attention and probably at least seeing their nose and ears twitch a bit in anger (one time one of them just plain screamed at me to turn it off -- hurling some insults that the yela'kaja refused to translate).

But mainly, I've been sick for the past few days. The yela'kaja tells me that its some bug that I got in the tunnels that apparently affects humans more than it does Tzállö, but I don't know. All I know is that I've been in Tzállö hospitals for a few days recovering -- with a lot of that time spent in a Xala stasis chamber while they figured out what to do. I'm still a little woozy from all the drugs, but they tell me that I'm fine.

As for the cause, it may have been a bug, but I kind of think something I ate recently had something to do with it. I've graduated from mushrooms, moss, and insects to some of the meats -- some of which are served with this thick black sauce called kyadwö. Anyway, I didn't know when I was eating it, but afterward it was explained to me that the title ingredient, the kyadwö, is actually the Lazga equivalent of mildew. That's right, a sauce made from mildew. It actually tastes really good -- but I'm quite sure it was part of what made me sick.

Anyway, I'm going to be returning to Jed as soon as I'm good and recovered and they can make sure I don't have any diseases. The yela'kaja said that he thinks the stresses of traveling from planet to planet "contributed to the illness" (I'm still saying it's the sauce) and is going to recommend sending me back to Earth. That's fine with me, but I would like to see Kesata again before I go.

Anyway, the moral of this story: If the Xala make full contact with Earth, and you have an opportunity to go to Lazga -- don't eat the black sauce.

The Alien Symphony

We saw that concert today. The yela'kaja, who has much better hearing than I do, tells me that most of the Tzállö actually stopped clicking or at least slowed down and quieted their patterns during the piece. He told me it's the equivalent of a human closing his eyes while enjoying the music, "Maybe we should do the same. I have not heard much music before, besides the drum dances on Jed." I agreed, of course. It's not like there was much to see. We weren't in the front row by a long shot, more like a kind of balcony seat, and my light could just barely reach the orchestra. So I shut it off and closed my eyes.

Of course, as I've come to expect touring different planets with cultures that evolved completely independent of Earth, it was a very new experience. I could feel the rhythm of the music well, but the scales were really strange to me, like they just threw in a bunch of random in-between notes. But I got used to it, and the generally distinct sound of Tzállö music. I have no idea what the names of the songs are -- the signs are in Fbeki and I didn't ask the yela'kaja to translate. The biggest surprise to me is that the songs actually didn't hit many high notes, and the highest notes I heard were very clear so I'm sure there was none of the ultrasonic sound you hear. I asked my yela'kaja about this and he explained it this way:

The Tzállö don't think of all sound and hearing as equal. What you consider their sense of hearing they divide into two distinct senses: syfko -- which translates into English as echolocation or biosonar -- and ghuufly -- which translates as your concept of hearing. Since too much noise in the ultrasonic range can disrupt syfko, Tzállö universally attempt to avoid sounds in or near that range, to the point of designing their electronic and mechanical devices specifically for noise-reduction in the syfko frequencies. Naturally, then, no Tzállö culture has ever incorporated a significant amount of ultrasonic notes into their music.

Anyway, after the concert I was allowed on the stage to look at the different instruments. The general types that humans have are there: wind, string, brass, percussion. But they're all just a bit different. A few of the Tzállö musicians stayed around to show me how their instruments work. They have a couple of different instruments that look kind of like flutes or clarinets, a bunch of instruments that are apparently played like brass instruments -- which a Tzállö's big lips come in handy for -- a didgeridoo-like instrument with about three keys for different pitches (it's called a ghuubhuu), a few big drums and a couple of mallet instruments that work like xylophones and marimbas (though the arrangement of the bars isn't recognizable at all).

So, I guess this'll be the thing that'll bring me back to this planet if I get the chance to come. Kesatans have good food, Tzállö have good music. Not sure if its worth the quarantine, though.

Protected Fossils and Windowless Train Cars

Well, I've finally been cleared to ride the train. Apparently there were a lot of medical tests and such they had to do before I left the first city, but now after a few doctor visits and some navigating through the tunnels I'm sitting in a windowless subway car with a bunch of Tzállö pointing their ears at me -- I think their trying to get a better look at my little "computer". The yela'kaja was telling me they have difficulty seeing force-field screens.

The train station seems a lot like a subway station, except the platform is a lot smaller and what little graffiti I see is engraved instead of spray painted. Oh, and of course there's the fact that it's completely dark except for my own light and all the signs are engraved in Fbeki with the time and destination of various trains as they arrive are displayed with little mechanical squares that move in and out.

One of the squares on the middle display seemed kinda stuck halfway, which the yela'kaja complained about at the time. Before he went off cursing the incompetence of the Tzállö in Xala, he said something like, "I got here two days before you did and had to sgêkajec two languages. It's hard enough for me to read the signs without them malfunctioning ..." I'm really not sure what he's talking about, but I think I'll wait until he cools off.

On the way onto the platform, I saw a random force-field screen on a side wall. It was sort of a strange sight, since I hadn't seen any Xala force-fields other than on my own little writing device until that point, so I asked about it and, surprisingly, the yela'kaja immediately signaled to a guard and said something in Fbeki. The next thing I knew, the guard passed his hand over a control crystal on the big square field generator or whatever you call it and there was a fossil of some sort of ancient animal there. I'm not sure what it was exactly, or whether it was mammal or reptile or what, but it had a long tail sort of curved around, some decent claws, and it looked like it had eye sockets--which seems strange when the only creature you know of on the planet has no eye sockets and nothing to put in them. The guard didn't know much about it.

The yela'kaja explained to me later that the Tzállö have a custom of incorporation any fossils they find when digging a tunnel into the actual structure--after it's cataloged and studied a bit and moved into a better spot. He tells me that since Xala forcefields can be made transparent to Tzállö echolocation (though this one apparently wasn't transparent to light), it was a natural move to put up electrified force fields to keep too many passers-by from touching them. "It keeps the oils of Tzállö fingers from damaging the old rock. The same system is currently used for older works of art where some of the original textures have been lost for too long to repair. The newer works you saw in the gallery are specially treated to prevent such degradation, and regularly inspected and repaired when everyday damage occurs." I think someone asked about that on the last post -- there's your answer.

Anyway, the force-field went back up pretty quickly once my train came in, and now I'm sitting here, with no indication of how fast we're going with a bunch of Tzállö looking at me. It's really quiet here, too. The yela'kaja has an explanation for that, too. "The Tzállö have found many ways to reduce or block the sounds in their machinery, as certain electronic and mechanical devices can emit ultrasonic or near-ultrasonic frequencies that sometimes disrupt their echolocation systems." He went on to talk to me about how the initial startup of Xala force-fields bothers them, which I already know first hand -- nearly got me busted lip. He also said that if Earth were to enter the Trade network, then from his research he would suggest that any Tzállö visitors be kept away from active TV screens. Not sure why, but I figure it has something to do with sound.

Welcome, and Please Touch the Sculptures

We went on a little art tour today. The yela'kaja heard how I seemed to like Kesatan art, but Lazga art is entirely different. Kesatan art was all bright colors, mimicking their language -- but Lazga can't see color, or even light. Their art galleries are as dark as any other place in the tunnels, and rather than arranging their art where it would get the best light the way artists on Earth and Kesata do, I'm told that the art and the gallery itself are designed for very good acoustic properties, allowing a Tzállö to pick out individual pieces easily with minimal noise in the background.

The arrangement is actually good for me, too, since getting good echolocation acoustics also seems to involve putting stuff in big wide rooms with enough space that various sculptures and pedestals don't block each other, and with my light as good as it is, it lights up a decent portion of the room with almost none of the little exhibits in the shadows. And I don't know about up in ultrasonic, but it's very quiet in the range I can hear. I get a weird feeling sometimes when one of the Tzállö is nearby or if they "look" at me, which I'm told might be a reaction to their clicking that I can't actually hear but can still register somehow.

It's actually kind of interesting what's in the gallery. With my little lamp I see lots of sculptures and such, but also big canvasses with textures on them. You're allowed to touch just about everything in a Tzállö gallery, and they encourage me to do it. Everything has textures and different materials to it. Some of the statues use real hair or fur for a realistic feel, and some of these canvases use lots of different materials that are simply intended to be felt. I've been told that Tzállö fingers are a bit more sensitive than mine, and that I might not even be able to feel some of the subtle differences in the textures.

They have some other interesting things, too. Some places there are thousands of little pins that move to make a Tzállö face that begins giving a lecture in Fbeki about the pieces around it, and one little room where I saw five Tzállö wearing this big contraption on their noses and ears that distorts their echolocation patterns to show them virtual images (naturally, it was useless for me to try that one).

Anyway, we're going to a concert sometime on the itinerary. I figure that a race that has so much of its world defined by sound should have good music. I like the art too, but it's a lot harder to relate to the "visual" arts of a race that can't even see.

Dark, Gloomy, Boring Planet -- but at least I saw a Moon

Well, I'm still on Lazga. Hasn't been a whole lot to talk about lately. This whole place is strange to me. My own little room is well lit -- it even has little sun-lamps for me -- but everywhere else is just so dark. There's no color and no light in any of the corridors outside my little room and some of the Xala-occupied areas near the gâ'axao.

I did get to go outside recently. I'm not allowed to go out during the day -- apparently the reason the Tzállö live in caves is the surface has wild temperature swings. I wouldn't be able to tolerate the heat of the day without strong protection, but the yela'kaja was able to arrange to get me some well-insulated clothing for outdoors, though it was still a bit cold for the few minutes they had me there. Lazga has a rather large moon. Kesata had a good size moon, too, but I didn't notice it as much since I was usually out more in the daytime there. Seeing planets with moons reminds me of Earth, and also of the complete weirdness of my first few hours on Jed (I didn't even count days there, they just don't work) when I looked up in the sky to see that great massive planet, staying always in the same spot forever.

Its still kind of strange, though. On Kesata, I learned to get used to a day/night cycle again, though it was a good bit shorter than on Earth. But on Lazga, I have to program the lights in my room to get any kind of cycle. Lazga does have days, of course, and the Tzállö even follow them in their calendar, but they really aren't paying much attention to the sky. They can't really see it. Some of them can "feel" the light of their moon, but from what I've gathered from talking to them, it just seems strange to them, unless they're into astronomy. There's no air to carry the sound up there -- and even if there were, that big object I see so clearly in the sky would be much too far away for them to detect.

So, what do Tzállö do? The stay in their tunnels, going back and forth. They have a huge network of tunnels connecting different parts of this city, plus larger tunnels that carry trains to other cities. I'm going to get to ride one of those trains eventually, but they've still got my travel restricted for now. The officials here told me that there were a number of big epidemics when Lazga first got connected to the rest of the trade network, so they now quarantine all travelers who come in. Apparently the close quarters in these tunnels was a blessing and a curse during that time -- he said they were able to seal off affected areas quickly, but that close quarters and communal living made the diseases spread faster.

Anyway, I don't know about their history with disease, but I'd really like to be getting somewhere. But, well, I suppose they have good reason to keep me here -- me being a new species and all. Damn inconvenient for me, but I'll deal with it.

Communal Living and Fungus Food

So far Lazga is a bit boring, though that might be just because I have a tough time seeing in the corridors as we tour through. I think I do have to share some of things. The Tzállö seem to be rather communal. They all live in these underground tunnels and caves in big groups. I've seen some of their little barracks, there are quite a few people in there. They also have a big communal mess hall where they all go to eat. In fact, though I've been given a special room that has electric lights and some special accommodations to keep me comfortable, I'm still required to go to the public mess hall for two meals a day.

Going to the mess hall is a bit of a strange thing for me. Tzállö can't see, but some of them can detect light on their skin somehow (the yela'kaja told me something about light-sensitive cells or some such). Now, me and the yela'kaja both have very bright lights strapped to our heads--which are very good, by the way. They don't penetrate the corridors as well, but they throw light all around the mess hall, and my batteries haven't worn out yet despite the amount of use this thing gets. Anyway, since light isn't a very common down in a Tállö mess hall deep underground where you can't even get sunlight through the ventilation shaft, whenever one of them "feels" our lights, suddenly about thirty pairs of ears start shifting in our direction and some heads turn to get a better "look" at the aliens.

Then we get special attention from the cooks. The Xala have cleared a few Tzállö foods for me to eat, so when I go to get my food one of the servers pulls out this little sheet of paper with the list in Fbeki and starts running his fingers along each little entry, making suggestions as he finds up with stuff he particularly likes. Note that, while he's reading the paper on the table with his fingers, his nose and ears are firmly aimed at me -- he apparently can read and stare at the funny alien at the same time.

Most of what they serve is fungus and maybe some small animals. In fact, as I'm writing this, I'm sitting in the mess hall eating a big plate of mushrooms with some moss harvested from the tunnel entrance, along with a Xala protein bar, of course -- none of the meats are cleared, yet. Apparently Lazga has dozens of varieties of edible mushrooms. The one's I'm having are called zbugy (something like ZHBOO-gyu), and they're not so bad, for mushrooms. The food's not quite as good as on Kesata, but it's definitely not as nasty as the protein bars the Xala give me.

Out of Quarantine

They've let me out of the quarantine cell, finally. We had a guided tour of the little underground city where I'll be staying. Of course, there wasn't much for me to grab hold of, since the only light I had was from my own flashlight strapped to my head. The flashlight itself isn't even that interesting, it looks just like a regular electric light, possibly a bit more advanced as the bulb is very bright and the batteries haven't burnt out in the hours that I've had it.

One thing that I notice is the walls. After Kesata with its sculptures and brightly colored rooms this place seems dull and grim. We did see some statues of some historical figures, but most of them are not nearly as detailed as Kesatan sculptures. They do have some very good textures on a few of the statues, but they seem to be smoothed out over all, and of course none of them are painted. The more important statues are made with granite, while some others are made with some gray rock, maybe shale, and a few are made from what looks like coal.

The signs on the walls are interesting. The yela'kaja pointed them out to me. The letters are all big blocky shapes cut out of the walls. He tells me that this type of lettering is easier to read by echolocation, and he's also going to bring me a Fbeki book (the Tzállö language is called Fbeki) so I can see their other alphabet, which from what he describes is similar to what's on the walls but is felt with your fingers like Braille. I definitely won't be staying here long.

By the way, I only got one yela'kaja, in human form, as humans can apparently pronounce all the sounds in the Tzállö language. That's what they tell me, at least. From the sound of it, I have my doubts as to whether I could do it myself.

Quarantine

Sorry I was absent, I was just now allowed to have my stuff. I'm here on Lazga ("LAHZH gah") to meet a race that the yela'kaja here calls the Tzállö (which sounds something like "CHAWL yer" with a British accent). Once again, they give me the spellings, they don't let me make them up. Anyway, the Tzállö (which I'm sure would be harder to type than it is to make this gadget type) are apparently a bit neurotic about germs, so when I got here (which, according to what I'm told, took a couple days anyway, though to me it was all instantaneous) I was sent immediately to this little quarantine cell, despite assurances from the yela'kaja that all proper the proper precautions had already been taken -- which I'm quite sure of from all the vaccines and antibiotics and whatever-all drugs the Xala gave me before they took me to the gâ'axao station.

Anyway, at least they gave my cell some lights and found something I can eat. Outside my cell in the corridor is pitch black -- from the looks of it the Tzállö don't even have eyes. They find their way around through echolocation. Luckily, my hearing isn't good enough to hear their constant clicking, which I was warned about before I came, but I think I can kind of feel it -- every time one of those things comes in here I feel really uneasy. Of course, that could be just the fact that they look like tall gray-skinned people with no eyes and some serious ear lobes (thing giant raggedy elf ears). Hopefully I'll be out of this cell soon and the tour can get underway. There is no way that the whole planet is as dark and cold and gloomy as this quarantine cell.

Action Plays and Power Players

Just came back from that ballet. It was quite a bit different from the one I went to when I first got to Kesata. It started out with the Storyteller like the other one, but once we got into the play there were a lot of holographic images and lights and even fireworks (in the underwater stages, no less). I'm didn't get the story very well, the dancing was quite fast and confused and the yela'kaja couldn't keep up with the translation -- something about a group of terrorists trying to sink one of those big Kesatan deep-sea cities. Meanwhile, I was surrounded by Kesatan diplomats who seemed to be enjoying themselves a bit, though most of them were quite old. Their feelers kept twitching and their hands would slap at the walls.

The yela'kaja later explained to me that there were two major modes to Kesatan ballet, traditional mode and modern mode. Traditional was what I saw when I first got to the planet, with set pieces of all natural materials and very few big effects. Modern is what would describe the play I just came from, lots of lights and pyrotechnics and some applications of Xala technology that I hadn't yet seen, like force-fields formed into giant holograms.

Anyway, the Kesatan diplomats went for a soak after the ballet (they'd started to dry out spending the whole play in the air-breather areas with me), and then they came back and started talking to me. I'd already had the introductions before the play, but apparently they wanted to do small talk. I think there were some Kesatan reporters there with something that looked like a camera along with a little Xala device that puts writing up on a force-field screen in front of you (though I couldn't read the writing, of course. I think it was Kesatan.) They asked me a couple of stupid questions like "Do you like it here on Kesata?" (something every one of the diplomats asked me, as well.) and "Do you thing your planet will soon join the trade network?" How am I supposed to know whether my planet is going to join the trade network? I don't even know if the most powerful leader. But I guess that's how things go.

Pretty soon I'll be heading out for the next planet. The Xala call it Lasga. All I know about it is it's cool and dark and it's possible I might be incessantly annoyed by clicking sounds if my hearing goes up high enough to hear it (the Xala haven't tested that part of my anatomy completely). Anyway, my next blog is likely to be from there, if I can get a light to work.

Anyway, after the ballet was over

One Last Little Trip

They're preparing me to go to the next planet on my tour. Today we went out on the speedboat for a quick ride around the city and some nearby islands. The yela'kaja says it could be a while, as it seems they're negotiating with some of the leadership (apparently its tricky arranging a tour in this planet).

Frankly, I've grown to like Kesata quite a bit. In fact, I might ask to be brought back here before I get sent back to Earth. The other day I went to see some of those giant eels the Kesatans ride, and I actually learned to ride a little. They gave me an older one, easier to control, though I found it hard to keep it from diving. Kesatans can survive for nearly an hour underwater, sometimes more, so they don't do much to break these things' habit of going underwater for extended periods when it cruises. I was pulling the reins so hard to pull it up that its nose is sore from the harness tugging at it and the poor things gills are almost bleeding. Now the Kesatans won't let me ride it anymore, at least not until they can get one trained for "land people". I hear some of the tourists resorts have mounts that will stay above water most of the time.

Anyway, I haven't been told much about the next stop. For one, they say it'll be just a little lighter gravity (my muscles have adapted to the high Kesatan gravity, so they wanted to warn me that I may end up putting in just a bit more force than necessary once I enter the next world). The other thing they said is that it's dark there, so they're preparing a light for me (they're engineering a special one for human eyes, though I didn't know Xala eyes were any different).

Anyway, there's another ballet on the itinerary before I leave. Frankly, I'm not quite sure I want to go, but I was told that there would be some people there that wanted to meet me, the kaja ga' Erta ("alien from Earth", I'm picking up some Xala, as well as some Kesatan Sign), so I'm guessing that some diplomats want a meeting or something and that skipping isn't really an option.

Anyway, it'll be sad leaving Kesata, and I'm not sure I'm going to like the place I'm going better than here, but I guess that, being the alien here, I'll have to follow the schedule.

Still Floating in the Ocean

I've been relaxing a bit and I seem to have been neglecting this blog. I've been exploring the city here a bit. I even go swimming once in a while. A few of the buildings here reserve the big area in the center of the cylinder, what the Xala call the jôseta (DJO-sheh-tah), or the "access shaft", for a recreational area where I'm allowed to take a swim any time I please. I've also picked up enough Kesatan Sign Language to know that they are quite amused at the "alien" swimming with them. Adult Kesatans can hold their breath for over an hour, and the younger ones for even longer until they lose their gills.

It's the little ones that find it funniest. Some of them haven't even lost their gills yet, so they're more comfortable in water than on land. I've watched some of the nursery areas (I'm not allowed in there myself, but many of them are also in jôseta as well, so I can look at it from the windows). The adults seem to have a million ways to get xasedê, or little Kesatans that are just growing limbs and lungs, out of the water. The yela'kaja tells me that Kesatans do that because they believe that a young Kesatan has to be out of the water for a certain portion of the time once they can walk on land, or they won't develop right. According to him, there are dozens of horror stories of Kesatans who had difficulty walking or whose lungs are malformed and had trouble breathing because they started leaving the pool too late or didn't spend enough time on land. Wait a minute, he wants to add to that:

It is true that these stories exist. Whether they are justified is another matter. Kesatans can, indeed, have trouble walking if they do not practice enough as their limbs develop, but I have never seen any Kesatan die or develop any serious disability from this.

Unfortunately, Xala scientists can't study Kesatan development in much detail. While the Kesatans do raise their young in communal nursery pools and all responsible Kesatan adults in the community will care for them, regardless of relationship, there is a strong cultural taboo universal among Kesatans that does not allow non-Kesatans to approach these nursery pools or the protected cave-nests where the eggs are laid.

I don't know if anyone really cared to read that, but ever since I got my new machine, that yela'kaja can cut in whenever he wants, though he generally asks permission.

Also, the yela'kaja is helping me revise my tags. Hopefully this'll help people navigate around here and find the information they want. He said that there's some council on Jed trying to work up a site with more info on it, too. I don't know what that's about, but they want to set it up, though from the amount of hits this blog gets, I really don't think they're reaching many people back there on Earth, anyway.

My Little Entourage

As I guess you might expect, any time I get to walking around in a lot of the areas on this planet, I tend to get a trail of little Kesatans, lots of them barely xasedê following me like and entourage. The older ones sometimes get a bit curious, too, though most have them have seen an alien at at least once before (not a human, of course, but the Xala use the same routes whenever they take a new alien delegation to Kesata or just about any other planet in their network).

Kesata's a big contrast from what I experienced on Jed. There, the most curious of anyone were the Ŋãna, and I travelled long enough with them that they eventually just got used to me. Xala, on Kesata and on Jed, usually don't seem to care about me, unless they're yela'kaja. Even the Kesatans I met while touring Jed seemed to see me more as an annoyance than as an interesting new alien. Of course I can explain that last part, as the Kesatans that come to talk to me that have any experience with Kesatan diplomats describe them as kind of stuffy, upper-class types that live away from the other Kesatans either on islands closer to the Xala gâ'axao stations or in the central parts of some of these deep-ocean cities (like Kesatan City 32, in fact, where I'm told the central cylinder houses the offices of some regional council or something, despite the fact that, as I understand, this place only houses a few thousand people).

Anyway, to get back to what I was talking about, I've developed a bit of an entourage here, as well. All these little Kesatans, most of them really young, ask me all sorts of silly questions, via interpreter of course. One of them asked me about "villages" on Earth, and when I said that lots of humans live far away from the ocean on the interiors of the continents, he croaked and backed away, signing something that the yela'kaja told me meant "How do you not dry up?" Needless to say, I figure that whenever he visits the larger islands, that's what the adults tell him to keep him from going far from the shore, for good reason. Kesatans really can "dry up" and die if they don't have seawater.

Anyway, I do enjoy the attention, though my bodyguards often seem nervous about it. And of course, I can get away from the group if I wish, my quarters here are isolated and secured so no one can get in -- not that I think the Xala's security precautions are really needed in the first place.

Three Angry Fish-Men

Seeing all the boats come in and out of here I remember a little incident we had as we were going in to land at an island, just after my laptop exploded. Some of the waters off the Kesatan islands get pretty crowded. In fact, it can get so bad that they commissioned these force-field barriers and with little floating docks out away from the shore to keep the boats from getting too close to the reef communities on some of the larger islands.

Anyway, we were headed for one of these bigger islands as a stopping place, when another speedboat a lot like ours came blazing out of the docks and hit us from the side. Of course immediately, both boats stopped. The one that had just hit us filled with Kesatans of various age and appearance, and most of them were sort of cowering in the back while the two boat pilots stood up and started croaking and flailing at each other, signing furiously and violently with their colors flashing brightly and quickly to the point of strobing. I saw one small Kesatan in the other boat attempting (unsuccessfully) to blend into a corner (these boats aren't easy for Kesatans to use their camouflage against, but I'm pretty sure the kid was giving it his best shot).

Meanwhile, another Kesatan comes up riding one of these tame giant fish (or eels or whatever-they are), stands up, with reins still in hand, and joins in the whole thing. About this time I asked my yela'kaja about what they are saying and, if memory serves, I believe he said something like, "Oh, these fish-men do this all the time."

About that time, the other yela'kaja (the one in the form of a Kesatan) croaked for attention and said something to the pilot that I presume was along the lines of "Get us to shore before we sink," (we were starting to take on water from the crash) and we started heading in to port. Needless to say, that was a very interesting experience.

From Kesatan City 32

Recently we've come out to a settlement out in the middle of the ocean for a bit of a rest. It's called Kesatan City 32. The yela'kaja tells me that these "cities" are pretty recent. Apparently Xala technology is extending the Kesatans live and making it so more of the eggs survive, so the coasts are nearly full.

I'll let him explain that further whenever he's around to contribute, but I'm just up on top of this big settlement and remembering those big Xala cities we flew past back on Jed. It's basically the same big cylindrical housing units, except that instead of floating way up in the air on some sort of anti-gravity, these are sunk half into the water. We did a little tour of it when I got here, both above and below water, and I keep remembering that weird walk-through theater where we saw that Kesatan ballet. It's the same sort of deal with Xala technology and Kesatan art, though there seems to be more metal than coral on these settlements.

They evacuated the water from some of the lower levels (a lot of them are flooded at least halfway up most of the time, as Kesatans need to be in salt water most of the time). From down there you can see that the Kesatans use the big hollow core for something other than an access shaft. I recognized lots of different fish and squid and plants from the underwater farms we saw on some of the islands. Apparently they don't need pens as much here, either, as most of the stuff they farm never dives below the level of the bottom of these cylinders and really couldn't leave if it could. There's a good deal of coral on the inside to anchor mussels and seaweed and such.

Anyway I'm going to be on about the third level up from the water for a while, resting, so I might be able to catch up with some of the stuff I missed blogging when my computer exploded, especially know that I think I've got the hang of using this Xala Internet-access typing whatchamajigger. So, look out for some stories about Kesata.

Kesatan Life Cycle

Now that I have this thing working for me (It's still a little weird for me thinking words and seeing them pop up on the screen, but at least its not so painful anymore.) I'm going to go on to that post about the Kesatan life cycle. And to open it up, I've got my human-form yela'kaja with all his information laid out (and by that I mean he has stuff laid out in what looks like the Xala language and a couple other languages I don't recognize up on screens) and is ready to start us out, so handing it to the man:

The life cycle of a xala kesata, or "Kesatan", as Vinceon calls them, starts when the females eggs, after being laid in an underwater cave-like structure, is fertilized by a male Kesatan's sperm. The embryo develops one Kesatan month, which is about half of one of your Gregorian months, into a small creature similar to what you call tadpoles, though it seems from what I've found that they are much larger than any tadpoles on Earth or on Jed. In Yeltax we often call these gaxesê, which roughly translates as "little fish" and refers to any tadpole-like amphibious offspring.

This "tadpole" will gradually evolve into the adult. The most immediately apparent part of this process is usually the growth of limbs, which are often present within one of your months and continue to grow very rapidly throughout the growth period. Kesatans divide the stages of the metamorphosis differently, depending upon the local culture. The most common division is as follows (using Yeltax names for lack of an effective way of transliterating the Kesatan sign language):

1. gogo: egg
   
2. gaxesê: "tadpole"
   
3. xasedê: "little salamander", which begins with the first appearance of the limbs
   
4. tôkoxe: "tailless", which begins when half the tail is lost. Also by this stage, the gills have generally been totally replaced by lungs
5. xala êdag: "full adult", which is marked by the growth of two large maxillary barbels.
   

The entire process takes many of your years to complete. The first three stages are usually last a matter of weeks or months and during that time the young are under constant supervision, either by their own parents or by the community. In most Kesatan cultures, the young are cared for communally by an entire village of mostly related individuals, which we think is responsible for the sign corresponding most closely to your word mother is usually extended to all females of the previous generation in one's home village, and the same occurs for the sign corresponding to father. This, of course, is dependent on the local language and dialect.

The later two take years to complete on their own, during which time they are gradually given more freedom and more responsibility as they are more thoroughly socialized by the community. It should be noted that it is very difficult for Kesatans to learn the various sign languages on this planet until the limbs are fairly well developed and the chromatophores are fully functional. The entire process is usually complete in ten to twelve of your Gregorian years, at which time the young adult Kesatan is free to either stay in it's home village or move to some other village or even to other islands.

Kesatans will become sexually potent and produce new offspring upon reaching or sometimes before reaching adulthood, and will usually continue to be fertile for their entire lives, which is incredibly short at an average of around fifty-three of your Gregorian years.

So, that's it in a nutshell, I stopped him for now, as I didn't really want to make this post too long. I'll let him get into some more about fertility and such next time. By the way, just so you know, Xala live for two hundred to three hundred years, so the Kesatan lifespan looks a lot shorter to him than it does to us (though you have to admit that fifty years is pretty short compared to us, too). Personally, I seem to recall meeting a Kesatan here that was about sixty, but I was told that she was a rarity and is revered in her community for her incredible age.

Some Stuff about My New "Laptop"

OK, I've been working with this thing for a while now, I think I can handle it.

Just to give you some background, the new machine is completely different from the old modified laptop. I'm told it'll be easier to maintain a connection because there isn't so much jury-rigging to get things working. Once the data is converted into whatever the crystals communicate with, it doesn't need to be converted back. It's just filtered through the crystal and some unused parts of my brain and then appears on the screen. Of course, it looks kind of strange, as I just see the website itself, no programs or anything. All the commands I get with a browser work though, I just have to "think" them. At first I thought it would be really chaotic, but it really goes pretty easy.

Anyway, writing is a bit more difficult. In fact that's the bit that was giving me headaches. Here's what the technician said to me about it (yela'kaja translating):

When typing, it takes a little bit more effort. There are two ways you can do it. The first is to visualize exactly what you wish to write. This is not as easy as it might sound. The device will read letters and formatting straight from your head and attempt to convert it into something that can be transmitted. If you're not good at visualization, it might not come out looking exactly as you expected.
The other route is to simply form the words in your head as if you're about to say them. You've already figured out how to work this strange arrow control [the cursor], so other tasks related to writing shouldn't be difficult.

By the way, you'll see more of that. This new system allows me to jack in the yela'kaja at any time and let him write something himself. Neither he nor my previous two yela'kaja had much patience trying to type, so they left the laptop alone, but they seem extremely adept at this stuff. Anyway, I ended up going with a little of both systems. The only issue with either of the writing techniques the machine has to, in the words of the technician, "tap into higher systems" in the brain, especially when I'm just forming words like I'm going to say them, which apparently activates a lot of little pathways that have to be tracked through.

Anyway, that about covers my new machine. We're coming up on another stop. It's a big Kesatan settlement out in the middle of the ocean. I've been to a couple of those. I'll talk about it a bit later, but my next post I'll be doing that bit on the Kesatan life-cycle like I promised before. Right now I've got to go to some sort of reception thingy. Seeya.

New "Computer", Bad Headache

The crystal on my laptop blew (making the yela'kaja here curse, of course, that the people on Jed were incompetent enough not to send me with a spare). By the way, when a crystal blows in your face it's not fun. The thing literally melted into energy in front of my eyes and then exploded. Luckily it didn't do any serious damage, but the blast left purple dye everywhere! My face will be purple for a month, and I'll never get the clothes I was wearing clean, not to mention the fact that despite all our efforts to clean it up, the laptop is pretty well ruined. The Xala can't use their special solvents to clean it, as it would damage the laptop. Besides that, not only is the screen all purpled-out, they told me that the dye's gotten into the keyboard and may have screwed the whole thing over.

Luckily, the Xala had a new device in the works for me back on Jed. It just got in a couple hours ago. It took it a while to catch up with our island hopping on top of the amount of time it took to get it together. (It's always kinda strange when the longest "distance" in a trip takes the least amount of time, but I guarantee it took thousands of times longer to get the thing from the nearest gâ'akao here than it really took entering itself.)

Anyway, I'm still breaking this thing in, so my stuff will be spotty for a while. The control crystal needs to rearrange itself to respond to my thoughts, and I have to learn how to make it write without giving myself a great big headache. The machine's basically just a force-field screen and a control crystal. I'll give more detail later, as I feel a headache coming on right now.

Before I leave, I'll say I promise to get that thing on the Kesatan life cycle and family together soon. They've given me all the information, and the yela'kaja is going to help me write it up. Right now, I can't write much more for a while. See ya!