Bitter

Hijau held his distraught, sobbing bondmate in his arms, rocking him, helpless to do anything.
… Zha'haabron…

Zha'haarak had been… uneasy even before the Zhane expedition had left, and it grew worse as the days passed. Hijau had put it down to his missing 'jau and Kinu: it wasn't until Zorun had wondered aloud, idly, how things were going on board the Lizard in the Night (as the Hyou-jin had, whimsically in the Saiyans' opinion, named the ship carrying the family to Zhane) and Zha'haarak had answered absently that they were all fine, the children were keeping up with their lessons, 'selaan had discovered that the pollen of one of the native Zaisan plants had hallucinogenic properties and that the Ssii'iin was simply dreading their arrival, that they realised there was more to it than simply the lack of his hostling. The gentle zn'hre had looked up from his drawing into the silence that had greeted his comments, to find everyone staring at him. He blushed, and Hijau had pulled him close.
      "How do you know that, aijin?"
      Zha'haarak blinked.
      "I… I am in *contact* with the Ssii'iin…"
      Hijau chuckled.
      "And you didn't think to tell us?"
      "I thought you knew…"
      The captain kissed his bondmate's neck.
      "Well, we do now. Can you *talk* to him?"
      "If it necessary, yes, we can *speak*. But it is very tiring. Mostly we simply *share* our day to day... feelings... experiences. It is a reassurance."
      Zorun glanced at Ti'aasaan, sitting on the sleeping platform with the drowsy 'vaasaan in his lap: the little zn'hre smiled up at him and shook his head.
      "No, I can't *contact* any of my hostlings or sirelings. Whether they are able to *touch* me I can't tell - though we could ask."
      "Might be a good idea…" Hijau mused. As the ship moved further away from Vejiitasei it took longer and longer for communication to reach them: by the time it reached Zhane the time lapse would be around fifteen days. Knowing they could contact the king urgently if they needed to was reassuring indeed. He kissed Zha'haarak's bright hair.
      "Will you tell us if anything changes? If anything important happens?"
      "Of course, zkai'da." He smiled. "I would have even if you had not asked. But nothing significant has happened so far."
      Which was all very well, thought Hijau, but what Zha'haarak thought was significant and what everyone else considered so were not necessarily the same thing… Ah well, he'd explain what he meant in more detail later. For now, he was due back at HQ…

And now it was mid-winter, a shrieking blizzard whipping the land outside the palace, and Zha'haarak was shaking in his arms. Six hours ago Zha'haabron had been hurt, somehow, the echoed pain ripping through his sibling, so intense it left him breathless, unable even to cry out, much less speak… Hijau had nearly passed out from the overspill - then minutes later it had stopped, as abruptly as it started. Zha'haarak had crumpled unconscious to the floor - and hadn't been able to *contact* the Ssii'iin since.
And it would be thirty days before any message to them could be answered.

"How is he faring?"
      Radittsu jerked awake, disorientated and aching. Ta'haarel knelt beside him, gazing at the sleeping king; the Saiyan snarled quietly, pulling Zha'haabron a little more closely to him.
      "Hurting."
      The zhaneer winced at the angry tone, then glanced at Vinas as the biotech ran his monitor over the king's body. The Feeodoreean frowned at the reading.
      "Healing has started… May I have your permission to administer pain relief?"
      Radittsu blinked - since when did Vinas ask permission? - then realised it was as much to emphasise his own importance to the mission as anything. He *touched* Zha'haabron gently, wincing at the depth of the pain licking at his bondmate's body from inside, and nodded. His zn'hre preferred the minimum of medical intervention - but on this occasion… And they needed him conscious and functioning.
      Vinas efficiently dispensed the analgesic, and Radittsu stroked his bondmate's soft hair while they waited for it to take effect. Finally the golden eyes slowly opened.
      "… thank… you…"
      Zha'haabron's voice was a rough whisper, and the Saiyan laid a finger over his lips.
      "You don't have to speak." *But we do need to know what you discovered.*
      The zhaneer bowed his head.
      "I'm sorry, Ssii'iin, that you had to suffer…"
      "I still don't see why he had to!" Radittsu growled. Ta'haarel raised his hands.
      "I believe… they have behaved so for so long they no longer know how to be… kind." He glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the delegation, who were quietly eating first-meal and watching him intently, then returned his gaze to the bondmates. "If you are interested, I have permission for you to see the city…"
      Zha'haabron took his Saiyan's hand.
      **Let them go with him, zkai'da. You and I must speak**
      Radittsu eyed the hostlings worriedly - but Le'leen, Ti'ani and 'vahn would be in the party, they'd already proved themselves against some of the zhaneer's abilities… He nodded.
      "I will stay here with the Ssii'iin."
      Ta'haarel smiled.
      "That would be wisest. I swear to you I will let no harm come to any of your family, or your guards."
      Ti'ani had said to trust him. Radittsu had confidence in the hybrid - and couldn't trust to his own strength, as had been very clearly demonstrated.
      "Very well. How long will you be?"
      "We will return for mid day meal."
      Radittsu glanced at 'nippu, who was frowning as he worked it out. He nodded.
      "That's about seven hours, oji-san."
      The Saiyan eyed the zhaneer.
      "I'll stay in *touch* with the brats…"
      "I would expect nothing less." He lowered his eyes, murmuring too quietly for anything other than Saiyan ears to hear, "I have much to do to try to make amends for your reception."

'selaan stood on the narrow balcony on top of the tower and gazed out and down, shivering in the chill wind but too full of wonder to notice. It had been… had been…
      The city was… weird. Very beautiful, but very strange. And one of the first things they'd noticed, as Ta'haarel led them out into a broad thoroughfare, was the complete lack of people. The place was silent apart from the sound of the thin wind and the occasional automatic transport - carrying goods to their destinations, Ta'haarel had told them when they asked, but changing the subject when they asked what goods and what destinations….
      The zhaneer had stared, eyes huge and lips parted, when 'leesaan had raised himself from the ground, floating straight up to view the area from above. Pirum frowned.
      "Why are you surprised? Surely you can fly?"
      Ta'haarel swallowed and lowered his voice.
      "It was a skill once known to all zhaneer, but now… only to the... elders."
      "How do you travel, then?" Kiraz had crossed his arms over his chest, smug smirk on his face and affecting not to be impressed by the sights around him. The zhaneer gestured to a small, floating lump of… something… that formed itself into a comfortable transport at Ta'haarel's command.
      "We use these."
      Pirum, Zaheen, Vinas and his aides - and Kinu, with 'jau at his side - climbed warily into the little craft; the rest took to the air, following the vessel closely enough to hear what Ta'haarel was saying.
      Which had been, 'sel realised, frowning, not all that instructive. Ta'haarel had told them the names of the strange structures - buildings, some of them - that they'd passed, but not what purpose they served. But he'd done it in such a way that it hadn't been obvious that he was prevaricating - and to be honest, the sights had been very distracting…
      Elegant. The city had an attenuated, chilly elegance to it, like the exquisite ice sculptures that the cold season winds of Vejiitasei made of water… beautiful to look at, dangerous to touch. And the omnipresent blueness made everything feel cold… The roadway wound sinuously between buildings like slender frosty fingers, past pools of some sort of silver liquid less than a fingerspan deep, over sweeping transparent spans supported by nothing they could see, the ground far, far below…
      It was awe-inspiring.
      It felt dead. Pirum hated it. She turned to Ta'haarel.
      "Where is everyone?"
      The zhaneer smiled, but averted his eyes.
      "Most of them are… occupied right now. Busy."
      "Doing what?"
      "Keeping the planet… running."
      "Can we meet some of them?"
      His expression became tense.
      "I'm sorry - that won't be possible."
      "Why not?"
      "I…" He sighed. "I don't have permission for you to do so."
      "Do you always do what you're told."
      He eyed her, golden eyes solemn.
      "I have no choice."
      "Must be boring for you."
      He blinked, then managed a small, humourless smile.
      "It would be… nice… if things were different."
      Ti'ani glanced down at the zhaneer, *aware* of an intense longing in him for… what, exactly? Escape? Freedom? Knowledge? The hybrid shook his head. He wasn't supposed to *pry*, but if he got the chance, he promised himself he was going to take a really good look inside Ta'haarel's mind…

Vinas had been torn between his duty to tend to the king, and his intense curiosity to see the city. Eventually Zha'haabron had had to insist that he go with the family: Radittsu was perfectly capable of looking after his bondmate for a few hours.
      As everyone - with the exception of the two va'ha'da left to guard the Ssii'iin - left the suite, Zha'haabron turned to his Saiyan.
      **Please may I bathe?**
      Pressing a kiss to his forehead, the Saiyan pushed himself upright and moved smoothly through to the bathing chamber, carefully lowering his zkai'da into the warm pool. Zha'haabron groaned as the water lapped at him, supporting his weight, taking the strain from his abused body: Radittsu settled himself on the pool's seat-platform, one hand under the king's head, the other laving water over his chest.
      *Do you feel up to talking?*
      **We must, regardless of how I feel…**
      *… what have you learned…?*

Radittsu supported his sleeping bondmate across his lap in the pool: Zha'haabron had *spoken* for an hour, *sharing* everything their hosts - hosts? Heh! - had unwittingly revealed. The Saiyan supposed he should be grateful that they'd underestimated the king's abilities, hadn't realised what they were *saying* about themselves, but at the moment all he felt was a deep, deep, terrifying chill.
      Zha'zhasaan's crew was only one amongst thousands they had abandoned on an alien world, to live or die according to the whim of the natives. The only difference was that in Zha'zhasaan's case, it was an accident. Usually the 'experiments' were chosen - or sometimes specifically bred - ahead of time then transported to the world: the scoutship's crashing on R'ren'nkh'ia had been accidental. The zhaneer had sent a ship to investigate what had happened, but by that time Zha'zhasaan was already a captive…
      They could have rescued him. They chose not to. They left a tiny but sophisticated and very powerful observation satellite in orbit around the world instead. It had been destroyed in a meteorite collision about a hundred years ago, but by then it no longer mattered, the whole experiment had been long abandoned. Though they were scheduled to replace the satellite, sometime when they could be bothered…
      *WHY?* Radittsu clenched his fists. *Why do they DO this?*
      Zha'haabron rubbed carefully at his eyes.
      **Originally they had a colonisation plan, and were trying to establish which hybrids would be the best suited to the various worlds under consideration. In those days the… victims… volunteered - they knew what they were doing. But over time the experiment became an end in itself. The zhaneer grew… old… their culture has stagnated…**
      *But - the Hyou-jin… All their 'gifts'…*
      The zn'hre shook his head slightly.
      **I can only assume it is all ancient technology. There has been nothing new created here in two thousand years**
      *… so where does that leave us? Leave the zn'hre?*
      Zha'haabron's eyes were bleak.
      **An experiment gone wrong... They have been waiting for us - in times past any hybrids who found their way 'home' were considered successful. But the culture has changed. Now we are here they don't know what to do with us. We are nothing but animals in their eyes - degenerate, mutant…** He smiled sadly. **As I feared, when we found the scoutship**
      Radittsu had frozen - but his zn'hre wasn't despairing, not this time. If anything, he seemed to feel pity for the zhaneer. Golden eyes gazed up sorrowfully into black.
      **They are dying, slowly, from the inside. There is little left of the strong, proud race they once were. They repeat the same actions, over and over again, not even understanding why**
      It was Radittsu's considered opinion that he might be able to feel sorry for them once the family was safely back on Vejiitasei, but certainly not now. If only he hadn't persuaded his zkai'da to come here!
      But Zha'haabron - in pain, any hopes he might have had of finding his heritage here dashed - wept for the zhaneer…
      Radittsu just wanted the family off the planet and on their way home as soon as possible.

The hostlings arrived back in thoughtful mode, eating mid day meal quietly then retiring to the sleeping platform to assimilate what they'd learned. Radittsu had hoped to speak with Ta'haarel, but the zhaneer had excused himself, saying he had business to attend to but would return later. Before he left, however, he laid a hand over what was the zhaneer equivalent of a computer, logging himself in then handing the unit - which looked like an amorphous mass of liquid ice - over to 'selaan, with a quiet plea to not attempt to access anything that wouldn't let him in immediately.
      "I will be… in trouble if you do so."
      The hostling had nodded: he liked Ta'haarel, didn't want to cause him any problems. The zhaneer had smiled his relief.
      "I thank you. And I will see you at first evening meal."

Pirum and 'leesaan jostled each other, each trying to see what was displayed on the shifting screen of the unit as 'selaan tried to accustom himself to its operation. Fortunately the thing was programmed to use Common as well as zhaneer, and after a few minutes he felt at least half-way confident he'd worked out the basic functions. He gazed round at the assembled family.
      "What do we want to try to find out first?"
      Since everyone wanted something different, this was probably a silly question… Eventually he settled on Vinas' enquiry about medical research, and stroked the semi-liquid touchpad…
      Only to have 'restricted access' appear on the visual readout. He frowned and shook his head.
      "Sorry, Vinas-sama."
      Kiraz smirked.
      "Try military. Or something like it."
      'Military' was restricted. So was 'planetary defence', 'war', 'combat', 'guard'… 'defence' brought up a hologram of what appeared to be an instruction programme for a strange kind of self-defence course…
      Beginning to feel frustrated, 'selaan gazed at Pirum. She frowned, then suggested trying something related to other worlds.
      Which finally yielded results, as a schematic of the galaxy appeared floating in the air above the platform.
      "Like the navigation jewels." Kinu was fascinated. 'jau nodded.
      "But bigger." He eyed the zn'hre. "Can you make it show us where home is?"
      'selaan tried, startled when not one but two planets brightened prominently on the hologrammatic display. Radittsu frowned, pointing.
      "That's Vejiitasei. But what's that?"
      'That' was a large world on the other side of the galaxy. 'selaan, warming to his task, requested information about the world. To his hissed dismay that information was restricted, too. Pirum wrapped her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled his neck.
      "Can't be helped, sinam."
      'selaan sighed, then regarded the Saiyan.
      "Perhaps we can ask Ta'haarel when he gets back."
      "Maybe." Radittsu wasn't at all keen to let their young host know they were interested in anything the zhaneer had to offer, not now. Ti'ani knelt beside him where he sat tending the drowsing Ssii'iin and laid a hand on his arm.
      *You can trust him, dadda. He's not like those others. He's more like us.*
      The Saiyan ruffled the hybrid's mane.
      *We'll see, bratling. We'll see.*

But Ta'haarel was annoyingly evasive at the evening meal, pleasant enough but impossible to pin down. It was extremely annoying, and Radittsu made no secret of the fact: after a while the zhaneer sighed and gazed at the Saiyan, hesitating for a moment then coming to a decision. His voice was very low, and he glanced nervously at the walls.
      "I'm sorry. I don't like not being able to tell you what you want to know, but I can't. If I did, they'd know. And my punishment would be very similar to the way the Ssii'iin was treated."
      There was a shocked silence, then the Saiyan scowled, muttering,
      "They'd do that to one of their own?"
      "Oh yes." Ta'haarel smiled grimly. "It wouldn't be the first time."
      "I… wouldn't want you to have to go through that…"
      The zhaneer bowed his head.
      "I appreciate your consideration."
      Radittsu growled.
      "So what can you tell us?"
      He sighed despondently.
      "Very little. You've met some of the council. You've met me - there aren't many of my age here."
      "The young people have gone offworld?" Pirum interrupted quietly. Ta'haarel stared at her blankly, then lowered his head.
      "No. There are simply few of us being hosted."
      Dying out physically as well as culturally? thought Radittsu, feeling some of the sadness still flooding his zkai'da. What a horrible way to go …
      "I'm sorry. You must be very lonely."
      "I have a few… associates. It could be worse." He roused himself, forcing a smile. "Would you like to see the night sky, later, after sunset? It's a lovely sight."
      There was a chorus of murmured affirmatives, and he chuckled and reached for a plate of food.
      "Good… Now, one thing I can tell you is what we eat and where it comes from. This, for example," he held up a knobbly purple fruit, "is gagackt. It comes from Granyoia, where it grows up in the mountains. It has a very interesting life-cycle…"

Zha'haabron had managed to eat a little, to Radittsu's delight, and was lying back in his bondmate's arms when Ti'ani arrived back from the family's viewing of the night sky of Zhane. The Saiyan frowned.
      "Something the matter?"
      The hybrid shook his head.
      *Nothing… I… it's just that I'm going to do something I know you're going to disapprove of, so I wanted to warn you before I did it. So you won't be angry afterwards.*
      Zha'haabron chuckled hoarsely, arm wrapping around his aching ribs: Radittsu shushed him gently. The zn'hre smiled at the hostling.
      **I see. Interesting reasoning… What is it you want to do?**
      Ti'ani took a deep breath.
      *I'm going to *scan* Ta'haarel. Tonight, when he's asleep.*
      The king frowned and tried to sit up, gasping as pain flooded through him. Radittsu held him carefully, growling at the youngster, but Ti'ani remained firm.
      *I'm sorry - but I must do this. I need to know.*
      **We don't sanction it.**
      He sighed.
      *I know. I'm not asking you to. I just - have to.*
      The Ssii'iin finally nodded.
      **You will take care. And do not go too deep. I am in no state to come and find you.**
      His shoulders slumping with relief, Ti'ani kissed the zn'hre's forehead.
      *I promise. I'll be very careful.*

It seemed to take forever for everyone to settle down, the hybrid thought, but then it always did when you were waiting… Finally most of the family were asleep - and so was Ta'haarel, curled on his side close to the edge of the platform.
Ti'ani took a deep breath and *focussed*…